#this ended up so big and it's still missing a lot of fics I love aaaa

[joshdonnas]

do you have any j/d fic recs? :D

Absolutely!! This fandom is really blessed with some of the best writers I've seen, so there's a lot of really good content out there to read, but I'll list some of my favorites under the cut ☺️

FAVORITE AUTHORS 💛

I thought I'd start by listing some of my authors, I’ll also be listing some of my personal favorite fics from theirs down bellow, but any of their works are totally worth the read: 

jessbakescakes | sam_writes_fics | BeneathAnOrangeSky | thotsandfeelings | littlefoolswritings | thefinestmuffins | joshatella (shuuuliet) | hanyolo | flowersinapril | spooky_spacegirl | hufflepuffhermione | mikaylawrites

FAVORITE FICS (in no particular order) 💛

running, by andyoureturntome (work in progress, rated M): "Matt Santos is running for president. Josh and Donna are just running away. Augmented canon for seasons six and seven. Ventures into AU territory from 6x18 on." (when I say this is one of my favorite fics ever you have no idea how much I mean it. it’s honestly so good, a must read in my opinion. it’s still in progress, and it’s not updated very frequently , but it’s still so so worth it (here’s to hoping we’ll get a next chapter soon!!).

the other side of the door, by sam_writes_fics (finished, rated M): "Donna wanders out of the bathroom, baffled by how late it is for the hundredth night in a row, and she drapes her coat over a chair before moving to plug in her cell phone. The blinking light catches her attention, and she flips it open. One missed call. From Josh. Perfect. Post-ep for 7x13: The Cold." (I honestly read this one every time I watch the cold)

say you’ll never let them tear us apart, by hanyolo (finished, rated M): "what would it be like in the santos era for josh and donna to get media coverage as a couple?"

love grows (where my donnatella goes), by sam_writes_fics (finished, rated T): "the first year of the santos administration in four parts"

how i love the view when i'm beside you, by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated E): "Josh and Donna on Valentine's Day; Chiefs of Staff era J/D"

cutting me open then healing me fine, by hufflepuffhermione (finished, rated T): "Josh and Donna are in the press room when it gets shot at, and the trajectory of a bullet changes the trajectory of their lives. Evidence of Things Not Seen AU."

there ain’t no need to go outside, by mikaylawrites (finished, rated E): "A lazy, rainy morning at home."

even cnn is wrong, sometimes, by BeneathAnOrangeSky (finished, rated M): "She snakes her hand between them, high instead of low, wrapping it around his bowtie. Starts to pull. And it’s this that snaps him out of it. Because Josh Lyman isn’t a press secretary and he isn’t a communications director and he isn’t Sam or Toby and he sure as hell isn’t Will, but he’s spent enough time around enough writers to appreciate the art of analogy (at the end of the night you wanna be able to pull it open like tony bennett), to recognize symmetry (donna? my tie’s falling apart), to understand that codas don’t exist merely in cello suites or stump speeches; that life makes space for sartorial bookends, too. Like bowties being tied, then untied." (utterly obsessed with the way this author writes)

gather ye rosebuds, by thefinestmuffins (finished, rated E): "A one and done smutshot, canon-divergent from 20 Hours in LA, in which Josh realizes where his rosebuds are and goes back to his hotel room to gather them."

we've been living on a fault line, by sam_writes_fics (finished, rated T): "6x02: Josh spends five days at Camp David, and every night all he thinks about is Donna."

burning slowly, my one and only, by thotsandfeelings (finished, rated T): "I can't stop thinking about you."

sacred new beginnings, by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated G): " But now, he doesn’t need her anymore – or he shouldn’t, anyway. So she’ll go back to her apartment, and he’ll go back to work, and things will go back to normal, whatever the hell that means. There’s something about that idea that makes his stomach churn."

an act of charity, by thatTWWgirl (finished, rated T): "A date with the White House Deputy Chief of Staff is put up for auction at the First Lady's fundraiser, and he's not too happy about it."

domestic days, by spooky_spacegirl (finished, rated G): "One day Josh and Donna look around and realize that, somewhere along the line, they have slipped into something that can only be described as Domesticated. One-Shot collection. Post-Canon." (so so so cute, never fails to bring a smile to my face)

this is the wonder (that's keeping the stars apart), by joshatella (shuuuliet) (work in progress, rated T): "A soulmate AU".

I want It all or nothing, no more in between, by scarmophogoghs (finished, rated E): "Want to go to Hawai'i? With me? Please?” (huuuge Hawaii fit we all cheered)

stuck with nowhere to go, by littlefoolswritings (finished, rated E): "what if it was only Josh and Donna who'd been left behind by the motorcade? just the two of them?)" (I love this one my god)

a pathological avoidance thing, by yanak324 (finished, rated M): "Josh isn’t sure what to make of the lack of surprise on the President-elect’s face when he explains why he’s taking time off. He has bigger fish to fry though." (this one is from Josh's POV, and this one is from Donna's!)

when a woman loves a man (who loves a woman), by BeneathAnOrangeSky (finished, rated M): "“You’re sensitive. It’s sweet.” She bites back a smile at the image she’s evoked. Everyone thinks they know the real Josh Lyman. Bartlet’s bulldog, political wunderkind, the man behind Washington’s curtain. But they don’t know him like this. She brushes a sweaty tangle of hair from his forehead and pretends not to notice when he leans into her touch. No, this side of him is reserved just for her. His mouth opens in surprise, voice pitching up a notch, “I am n—” “Your system,” she amends. “Your system is sensitive.”"

of the united states, by violet_storms (finished, rated G): "Fifty states, fifty sentences, fifty snapshots of Josh and Donna falling in love on the campaign trail."

on the line, by hufflepuffhermione (finished, rated G): "Josh and Donna and a pathological inability to hang up the phone."

you can run (but only so far), by swancharmings (finished, rated M): "The room is quaint, if a bit tacky, one sad sprig of holly greeting them at the door. A fine representation of how she feels this Christmas."

love is the only thing, by mikaylawrites (finished, rated T): "The Moss-Lyman girls read Little Women; Josh has a lot of feelings."

it was like autumn, looking at her, by cmbing (finished, rated T): "His eyelids flutter open, gentler than usual. Blearily, he catches the alarm clock blinking a red 7:48 a.m. If this were five years ago, he would already be on his third cup of coffee. If this were five months ago, he never would have made it to bed in the first place. But it’s now—and he wraps his arm tighter around Donna’s waist."

it's paradise as long as I'm with you, by thotsandfeelings (finished, rated E): "Hawaii."

only bought this dress so you could take it off, by hanyolo (finished, rated M): "josh has a thing for donna in red (as he should)"

nothing that i wouldn't do (to make you feel my love), by joshatella (shuuuliet) (finished, rated T): "Josh re-arranges his priorities. A Gaza hospital fix-it fic." (I'm always thinking about this one)

hell was the journey but it brought me heaven, by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated T): "On the drive, it starts to hit him. Leah was born on the anniversary of the Rosslyn shooting. What would this mean for him? Leah deserved a father who wouldn’t be absolutely miserable on his daughter’s birthday every year. Of course, he’d love to think that her birth could erase all of the negative feelings he’s ever had toward this day, that it could make all of the anxiety and trauma melt away. But if he couldn’t pull it together on the day she was born, the day she came into the world, what evidence does he have to support the idea that next year will be better? Or the year after that?"

there ain’t no need to go outside, by mikaylawrites (finished, rated E): "A lazy, rainy morning at home."

how to say I love you in subtext, by RhapsodyInProgress (finished, rated T): "If you know where to look and what to listen for, Josh and Donna have been telling each other how they feel for years. A series of vignettes on a theme."

annus primus, by hufflepuffhermione (finished, rated T): "The first year of the Santos administration, in twelve movements."

sit with you in the trenches, by swancharmings (finished, rated T): "”So you’ve got health and strength.” “And we’ll steal the rest?” “Bet your ass.” // Four ways they did exactly that."

oversight, by thefinestmuffins (finished, rated E): "War Crimes angst + hooking up" (a MUST read!!!)

can't call you a stranger (but i can't call you), by joshatella (shuuuliet) (finished, rated T): "King Corn. The elevator gets stuck."

for a long time, by onelargecoffeepls (finished, rated M): "Seven short glimpses into Donna falling in love with Josh based on "Love You For A Long Time" by Maggie Rogers."

this is how mythology is written (or: shards; scars; and whole again), by joshatella (shuuuliet) (finished, rated T): "The mosaic of Josh and Donna." (GOD this one!!!)

where the lovelight gleams, by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated E): "Donna brings Josh home for Christmas and has some thoughts about him in a holiday sweater; takes place during Transition" (OBSESSED!!!)

the way old friends do, by mikaylawrites (finished, rated T): "Donna, Toby, Charlie, and the chaotic people they love."

the first 100 days, by BimadaBomily (finished, rated T): "100 moments in Josh/Donna's relationship during the first 100 days of the Santos Administration."

like we were in paris (we were somewhere else), by BeneathAnOrangeSky (work in progress, rated M): "Josh, Donna, and the worlds they transform together // or: an ode to Paris (Taylor's Version)" (again, the way this author writes??!!?!)

find ourselves in the winter snow, by swancharmings (finished, rated E): "It’s when he leads her to dance, holding her impossibly close and swaying gently through the upbeat tempo, that she truly doesn’t know what to expect of the evening."

please linger near the door, by cmbing (finished, rated T): "They’re definitely not dating when there is a presidential dinner and they don’t think to invite dates. Instead, they assume they’ll go with each other. Him in a black tux, her in a red dress. Their arms are interlocked as they enter the ballroom, and Donna even goads Josh into dancing with her. It’s friendly, nothing more. They’re just having sex. That’s it."

with one hello, I'll never be the same, by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated T): "Josh and Donna and how 'hi' means so much more than 'hello'."

all you ever wanted from me (was sweet nothin'), by joshatella (shuuuliet) (finished, rated T): "Donna hadn’t had a nightmare about her ex since she started dating Josh, since well before she moved in with Josh after their week in Hawaii, since her life became better than it ever has been, since she became happier than she ever thought that she could be. Which is probably why she’s so shaken when the nightmare returns. Set post-series, in the Santos CoS era." (soooo sweet)

AUs 💛

i like shiny things (but i'd marry you with paper rings), by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated T): "In the aftermath of the First Lady's birthday party, Josh, Donna, and the rest of the Senior Staff deal with the fallout of Donna's realization that she's no longer a U.S. Citizen. CJ, Sam, and Toby have taken it upon themselves to get this figured out, and it’s a good thing, because Josh’s brain can only present him with one solution: Marry Donna Moss."

my days now end as they began (with thoughts of you), by flowersinapril (work in progress, rated T): "A new neighbour moves in next door to Josh and she isn't happy with how loud and chaotic he is." (can't wait for the next chapter of this one!!!)

sometimes it's like you grew up down the street, by starsontheceiling (finished, rated G): "Afterwards, he’ll say he did it without thinking and all their friends will laugh at him in disbelief, and he understands why but it’s still true."

you came like a resolution (under a starry sky), by JessBakesCakes (work in progress, rated G): "Donna, this is my brother, Josh. Josh, this is Donna. She lives across the hall"

an everlasting love, by sam_writes_fics (work in progress, rated T): "best man and maid of honor au" (has not been updated in a while but I love the idea of this pic so so much and I think about constantly)

think i missed the gun at the starting line, by ansatz (finished, rated T): "After qualifying for the Olympics in 2016, but being unable to compete due to an injury, Donna Moss is back, ready to run, and completely focused on earning a medal for Team Canada. Enter Josh Lyman, reigning Olympic champion with a heart of—you guessed it—gold. Two countries, two sports: one chance to fall in love?"

what if i told you, i feel like i know you? but we never met., by donnatellamoss (finished, rated G): "Donna Moss meets an unfamiliar face when she knocks on Sam Seaborn’s door for their English project. His name’s Josh Lyman and he’s good at bothering people."

absolutely smitten (never let you go), by JessBakesCakes (finished, rated G): "Josh feels all the air whoosh out of his lungs when he sees the teacher standing on the other side of the door. She looks at the group standing outside her door, puzzled for a moment, until her blue eyes lock with Josh’s. Her blonde hair is tucked neatly behind her ears, and pumpkin earrings dangle from her earlobes. She’s wearing a copper-colored fall sweater, adorned with leaves around the collar that match her bulletin board. Her ID badge dangles from her neck, one of those ink pens in a bright, funky color clipped to her lanyard.  “Miss Moss,” CJ says. “This is Mr. Lyman from the high school."" (always thinking about this one honestly I need more!!!)

the campaign around the corner, orphan_account (finished, rated G): "Donna Moss is working for Howard Stackhouse's presidential campaign in 1998. Josh Lyman is working for Jed Bartlet's presidential campaign in 1998. The two cannot stand each other. Little do they know the person each of them is beginning to fall in love with over email is the other." (you've got mail au!!!!!!!!!!)

everybody talks (it started with a whisper), by JessBakesCakes (work in progress, rated G): "Being the White House Press Secretary, Josh realizes, is one of the toughest jobs in the administration to begin with. But with her co-workers' propensity for going viral, CJ certainly deserves a raise. The West Wing, set 20 years later." (soooo obsessed with this one MY GOD)

darling, so it goes (some things are meant to be), by mikaylawrites (finished, rated M): "The story of rising country singers Josh Lyman and Donna Moss." (so good!!!)

ballerina, you've must have seen her, by thababes (work in progress, rated G): "It was always supposed to have been Josh and Mandy. After their successful run of Carmen, it had been expected that The Washington Ballet would stick to what worked. There was never supposed to be another audition. Company principles seemingly traveling from role to role was the usual. It had been an unusual season — schedule conflicts and last minute alternate class partners — and suddenly, everything seemed to have changed. And it had all started when he had danced with her." (I think about this one constantly)

[irndad]

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one. 

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 

[osaemu]

GETO SUGURU: ❛❛ SNOWFLAKES IN MY STOMACH WHEN WE KISSIN' ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ your boyfriend can't be home for christmas? fine then, you'll just spend it with his best friend! but be prepared, 'cause your boyfriend's gonna be mad when he gets home. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. modern!au. best friend!gojo. degradation, spanking, p –> v, you guys are loud and you get walked in on! gojo gets slutshamed.. a lot. and he's very annoying!! also there's lots of borderline crack in this fic, have fun with that! 3.6k words, not proofread.

author's note: it's been a hottt minute since i've written for geto and i lowk forgot how to write him.. anyways.

“what do you mean, you’re not coming home for christmas?” you huff, hopping on your bed and lying on your stomach. 

the man on the other end of the phone sighs exasperatedly, and you can almost see suguru massage his temples when he replies, “i have work, baby. i’m sorry, but i really can’t miss this chance to—”

it’s the night before christmas eve, and you just learned that suguru won’t be home in time to spend christmas with you—obviously, you were upset, because you’d been looking forward to spending the holidays with him. but to your dismay, holiday season’s always the busiest time of the year for businessmen like suguru.

��fine,” you groan, rolling over onto your back and staring at the ceiling. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you do so, and you mutter something about life not being fair as suguru lists all the reasons he can’t be home by christmas morning.

“i have a big meeting with some potential investors tomorrow, and there’s no way i’ll be back by the morning after,” suguru explains tiredly. you can hear the sleepiness in his voice, but the selfish part of you wants to keep him on the phone longer—it’s only seven, and you could easily spend the next couple hours convincing him to come home sooner.

“but suguru—” you try, even though you know nothing’ll convince him at this point. 

“i’m sorry, honey,” he interrupts. after a moment, suguru’s voice softens and he continues, “i just can’t make it home by christmas. we can spend the day after together, though—i think i’ll be free for the rest of the week.”

you roll off the bed, stuffing one hand in the pocket of your hoodie—suguru’s hoodie—as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a mug of hot chocolate. the other hand still holds your phone to your ear, and you swallow back the rest of the protests you have to suguru’s absence.

“anyways, i gotta go,” suguru murmurs, obviously suppressing a yawn. “love you, baby. n’ i’m sorry, but i really can’t do anything about it.” 

he hangs up before you can reply.

almost instantly, you dial satoru’s number—he’s probably the only other person you and suguru both trust enough to confide in about your problems, and like always, satoru picks up right away.

“hey, satoru?”

“heyyy, i already heard about it from suguru,” satoru replies, and there’s some suspicious squelching sounds in the background. are those grunts, too?

“uh, what are you doing?” you ask tentatively, hopping on the counter and sitting with your back pressed against the wall. the oddly wet sounds continue for a couple more seconds, and then they stop. “satoru?”

“shit, sorry, i was in the middle of something,” he replies with a breathless laugh. “yeah, i’m done now. wanna see?” your phone lights up with an invitation to facetime, and you hit the ‘x’ immediately.

“no, i don’t want to see whatever the fuck you’re doing,” you grumble, ignoring his laughter. “you’re disgusting, i’ll call you ba—”

“no, i’m free, i’m free!” satoru interrupts, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice as he continues, “suguru won’t be back for christmas, right?” 

you pause and sigh, closing your eyes for a second. “yeah, he won’t be.”

“and you want a way to get him to come back sooner, right?”

“yep. you have anything in mind?” you ask, half-hoping that satoru’ll be able to come up with some genius plan to get your boyfriend to fly back here to make it in time for christmas. but if you’re being honest, you know that there are very few things that could convince suguru to drop his supposedly important meeting and come straight home.

and somehow, satoru devises a plan that makes you certain he will.

————

the next morning, you receive a text from suguru asking you to facetime—under normal circumstances, you’d just ask him to call instead since you’re at a cafe, but not today. today, you want him to see you and your mischievous little plan, so you eagerly accept.

“hey, sweetheart,” suguru says the second the call connects. his dark hair is pulled back into its usual half-down half-up style, and he props up his phone on something to use his reflection to adjust his tie. “how are y— wait, is that satoru’s jacket?”

you smile innocently and turn the phone to show satoru, who’s sitting just across from you at the table by the window. after satoru’s taken his time to wave and blow a kiss to suguru (who rolls his eyes in response), you turn the phone back and say, “oh, i just got a little cold. it’s pretty chilly down here!”

suguru frowns, brown eyes narrowing at your cheeky expression. “very funny. why didn’t you just bring your own jacket? or one of mine?”

oh, this is the question you’ve been waiting for. you shrug off satoru’s rather comfortable jacket and show suguru the tight, long-sleeved shirt you’re wearing underneath it. the fabric hugs your skin in a way that shows off all your curves, and even better, it’s a light shade of blue that’s somewhere in between the color of satoru’s eyes and hair. 

“i did! but then it just got so cold and satoru was nice enough to offer me his jacket,” you say nonchalantly, pretending not to notice the way suguru’s jaw tightens. you flutter your eyelashes innocently and smile at suguru, thoroughly enjoying the way his eyes focus on your outfit.

“you jealous?” satoru chimes in, snatching the phone out of your hand and posing in front of it, admiring himself in the camera.

“no,” suguru mutters, but it wouldn’t take a genius to tell that he’s just lying through his teeth. satoru grins in response, making a peace sign with his hand and winking.

“good, ‘cause i’m gonna be hangin’ out with her all day long!” satoru cooes, blowing suguru another kiss before you swipe your phone back out of his hand.

“is he joking?” suguru grumbles, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. you shrug in response, not buying his cool and collected persona. you know suguru better than most, and the subtle way his shoulders tensed the second he saw you in satoru’s jacket gave it all away.

“nope,” you reply, soft lips tugging themselves into a little smile. “we might spend christmas together too, ‘cause you won’t be here. but i guess i don’t really mind anymore—satoru’s good company!”

satoru covers his mouth to hide his laughter at your comment, giving you a thumbs-up when suguru doesn’t reply. your boyfriend says something about already being late and having to go, and this time, you’re the one who hangs up.

“oh, we definitely got him,” you grin, smugly lifting your mug of hot cocoa and clinking it with satoru’s in a celebratory expression. satoru hums in agreement before he takes a sip of his cocoa, face growing pink at the sudden warmth.

“so, how long d’you think it’ll be until suguru texts you that he’s on his way?” satoru asks, leaning back in his chair and blowing on his cup to cool off the smoking-hot liquid.

“hopefully soon.”

“i’m betting on… three hours.”

three hours later, you don’t get a single text from suguru. four hours later, nothing. on the fifth hour, you finally receive a message from him, but it’s just a “how are you?”

“was that not enough?” you whine, half-looking at your phone as you walk through the mall with satoru. “how else can i convince sugu to come back by tomorrow?”

satoru shrugs, pulling the red lollipop he got from a toy shop’s cashier out of his mouth. “i mean, we tried jealousy, so how ‘bout we go the other route?”

you tilt your head curiously, waiting for satoru to elaborate. 

“y’know, why don’t ya tempt him in… other ways?” satoru wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and your face grows warm despite the chilly air around you.

“satoru…” you pause, face unreadable as you stop walking and turn to him. satoru holds his breath in anticipation, waiting for your verdict.

“that’s a really good idea.”

————

and that’s how you ended up in a clothing store, sifting through hundreds of dresses in search of one that’d be alluring enough to draw suguru back home.

“what color does he like on you?” satoru asks, seemingly oblivious to the strange looks he’s receiving from the other people in the store as he examines handfuls of dresses with interest. “red? black? white?”

you shrug, running your fingers over a form-fitting dress the color of suguru’s eyes. “i dunno, do you think he’d like this?”

satoru turns, takes one look at the dress, and instantly grabs it. “c’mon, let’s get you into a dressing room.”

the second you and satoru get there, the dressing room attendant gives you both a weird look. her eyes settle on satoru, and she asks, “weren’t you just here a week ago with another girl?”

satoru’s face goes redder than you’ve ever seen it. “uh, yeah, i was. oh, this one’s my best friend’s girlfriend, not mine—”

you shove him aside and hand the dress to the attendant, smiling bashfully. “just trying on this one, thanks.”

the attendant eyes satoru suspiciously and then nods. “okay, but he doesn’t get to go inside. last time, we got a noise complaint from the other customers.”

if you thought satoru’s face was red before, now it’s a shade redder than you knew was possible. in fact, you’re almost considering sending him to the hospital to get checked on as you close the dressing room door behind you and try the dress on.

it’s a little tight, but that’s expected given the skin-hugging fabric. after a couple minutes, you turn and admire yourself in the mirror—the dress, thankfully, fits perfectly. the fabric accentuates your features in the best way possible, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from staring in the mirror any longer.

“how do i look?” you ask, stepping out of the dressing room and doing a twirl for satoru. his jaw drops, and he nods instantly. 

“yeah, this is the one,” satoru affirms, taking out his phone. “want me to be the one to send the pics to suguru? that way we can still make him jealous!”

you give him a thumbs-up and blow a kiss at the camera, trusting satoru to take a flattering picture before you head back into the room to change out. on your way out of the store, you buy the dress at the counter—knowing suguru, he wouldn’t reply to satoru’s text, but you just knew he was dying to see you in that in person.

————

later that night, well after satoru’s gone back to his house and you’re relaxing in your own, suguru texts you again.

sugu: can we call?

you grin and roll over onto your back, nestling yourself deeper into your pillows before you dial his number. it only rings once before he picks up, and he instantly asks if satoru’s still with you.

“nah, he went home,” you say offhandedly, toying with the corner of your sheets. “did you like my dress?” you ask coyly, enjoying the way suguru pauses for a long second before replying.

“yeah, it looked good on you.”

“that’s it?”

“it really brought out your eyes.”

you bite your tongue to suppress a groan, instead opting to bury your face in a pillow instead. you had just spent the past twenty-four hours running around in circles, doing everything possible to get suguru to come back, and that’s all you get? really?

“anyways,” suguru continues, and you hear a soft rustling sound in the background—if you had to guess, he’s probably in bed right now. “how was your day, baby?”

“good,” you respond briskly, a soft scowl appearing on your face. suguru, being as observant as he is, picks up on the subtle change in your tone, but he doesn’t say anything. “satoru and i had a really good day. how was yours?”

suguru pauses before answering. “i missed you.”

“then come home, sugu,” you plead, even though you know that there’s no way he’ll be back in time. but it’s worth a try, right?

“you know i can’t,” suguru murmurs, exhaling softly. “no way can i get a flight back this late and make it back by tomorrow morning. i—”

“then get a sleigh!” you huff indignantly, unable to resist smiling when you hear suguru laugh. “please, sugu? christmas won’t be christmas without you.”

“just spend it with satoru,” suguru mutters under his breath, and that’s when you realize that your efforts haven’t entirely been in vain. he’s obviously sour that you spent the whole day with his best friend instead of him, and a small spark of hope starts to fester in your heart. 

“maybe i will,” you reply coyly, and you can hear your own smile in your voice—and you’re sure that suguru can hear it too. “anyways, i’m a little tired. good night, baby.”

“night.”

————

the next day, you host a party in your otherwise empty house—after all, it’s christmas, and it’d be rather depressing for you to spend it alone. so you invite satoru, satoru’s friends, and their friends, and so on. word gets around fast, and people show up in droves.

which is why you don’t notice when suguru himself slips in through the back door.

you’re giggling with satoru and his stoic friend kento when they both stop laughing, and you look up at them, confused. “what is it?” you ask, sipping the sweet liquid in your glass with a smile.

“suguru?” satoru asks, lips tugging themselves into a wide smile. “guess you didn’t wanna spend christmas alone, yeah?”

you turn around, half-expecting satoru to be joking. but to your surprise, your dark-haired boyfriend stands in front of you, smiling dryly. you stare at him for a solid two seconds, certain that you’re hallucinating. “sugu? but i thought—”

“thought you could mess around with my best friend?” suguru muses, arching one of his eyebrows. his suit’s a little wrinkled, and his hair’s more disheveled than normal, but somehow, he seems more alert than ever. suguru’s amber eyes go from yours to satoru’s wide blue ones, and satoru shrinks away from him with a nervous smile.

“i’m gonna go,” kento says offhandedly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. he turns and disappears into the crowd, leaving you, satoru, and suguru alone in the living room. 

“hey, bro, it was her idea!” satoru says instantly, raising his hands as if he’s a burglar in front of the police. you turn to him in disbelief, scoffing indignantly at his pitiful attempt to get out of trouble.

“no, it was your idea!” you insist, jabbing your finger at satoru. he gasps dramatically and pretends to faint, to which you roll your eyes good-naturedly. you turn back to suguru, rounding your eyes in an attempt to gain his favor. “i swear, sugu, this was all satoru’s idea!”

“you liar,” satoru grumbles, crossing his arms and huffing childishly. you turn and glare at him, and coupled with suguru’s unimpressed look, it’s enough to scare satoru off. 

and now it’s just you and suguru, alone in your mint-scented living room. christmas pop plays in the background from another room, and maybe it’s just the dim lighting but you swear you can see suguru’s face go a shade redder than before.

“hey,” you mumble, averting your eyes.

“hey,” suguru replies. he smiles, and just like that, all his features soften. “don’t you want to know how i got here so fast?” he drawls, reaching out and brushing something off your shoulder. his fingers trail down from your shoulder to your collarbone, which is all the more prominent thanks to the dress you’re wearing. incidentally, it’s the same dress you had sent suguru a picture of yesterday—maybe that’s why he can’t take his eyes off you.

“yeah, how did you get here so fast?” you ask curiously, suppressing a shiver as his fingers trace your figure down to your waist. suguru’s eyes go from your dress to your face, and he grins.

“well, i had to leave right before my meeting started and bribe some passengers with a shit-ton of money for their seats,” suguru starts, taking you by the hand and leading you to your shared room. “and believe me, it was a lot of money. and most people still said no, ‘cause they want to be with their families for the holidays.”

he makes a face as he pushes open the door, and stops in his tracks. your face grows warm as you realize that you had set up your room for him too—it’s illuminated with soft candlelight, the linen sheets are changed, and you—oh, you look perfect in suguru’s eyes. it takes a great deal of his willpower to stop himself from fucking you right there and then.

“oh, yeah, it was a lot of money,” suguru continues, smiling down at you coyly. “between the deal i just fucked up and the ridiculous amount of bribes i had to make, i think you owe me.”

suguru makes his way over to your bed and sits, spreading his legs and showing off his growing erection. you grin, following him and sitting in his lap. “did you miss me, sugu?”

“damn right i did.”

and barely a minute or two later, he’s got you face-down ass-up in the sheets, a calloused hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your increasing moans. “shh, wouldn’t want our guests to hear ya,” suguru whispers, breath hot against the side of your face.

you squirm underneath him, mind hazy from the feeling of his dick buried in you for the first time in.. how long? does it matter? “s-sugu, please fuck me,” you mumble, pretending not to notice the way he hasn’t bothered doing anything to you besides use you as his personal cockwarmer.

in the short time he’s been inside you, suguru’s barely moved—and fuck, he enjoys watching you squirm around and beg him to do more than just.. nothing.

“sugu, plea—”

he cuts you off with a slap to your ass, relishing the lewd whine that slips out of your lips in reply. “fuck, you thought y’could get me back here by fuckin’ with my best friend?” suguru cooes, shifting his hips. 

“we didn’t—”

“yeah, no shit, baby,” suguru interrupts dryly. “otherwise this’d be a lot worse for you—and for him.”

suguru’s dark eyes flit over to where the dress you bought lies, discarded somewhere in the corner of your room. he grins and uses his hand to turn your head, gesturing at the fabric. “and i bet he was the one who gave you the idea to do whatever the fuck that was,” suguru drawls, clicking his tongue. “tell me, whose idea was it to have him send me that pic? yours, or his?”

when you don’t reply, suguru sighs dramatically and grabs your hair, pulling your head up enough for him to lean down and whisper in your ear, “this’ll be a lot easier for you if you just answer—the—question,” suguru breathes, punctuating each word with another slap to your ass.

“it wasn’t m-mine!” you cry, looking up at suguru with shiny, rounded doe eyes. “i just wanted to—”

suguru cuts you off by pulling out of your drenched cunt just enough to allow him enough space to go back in, and his thrust is harsh and hits all the right places inside of you. your walls clench around him, and shit, suguru realizes that he missed fucking you like this more than anything else in the world.

“fuck, you’re so damn tight,” he hisses, shifting his hips again to allow himself more space to move. “did ya not touch yourself at all while i was gone?”

“n-no,” you stutter, swallowing another pornographic sound from escaping your lips. “i waited for you, sugu,” you gasp, feeling him hit spots you haven’t felt throb in a painfully long time. and fuck, you’re so out of practice that affer just a few thrusts, you’re mewling all over his cock and whining about how you’re close to cumming.

your vision gets speckled with spots of white as thoughts of suguru take up every corner of your mind, even as he teases you for getting so close so fast. but it’s not your fault you’re about to cum faster than you’ve ever done—you’ve tried fucking yourself with your fingers on times when suguru was out for work, but he’s spoiled you with his dick more than you can imagine.

and that’s why you cum all over his cock in what has to be a record-breaking time, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you mumble indecipherable words.

“aw, look at you,” suguru murmurs, stroking your hair as you tremble underneath him. even though it’s unbearably cold outside, it feels scorching hot in here—but maybe that’s because of both of your heaving chests in the aftermath of your orgasm.

“‘m sorry, sugu,” you mumble hazily, and suguru chuckles in response.

“it’s alright, baby,” he responds lightly. “y’know i like fucking your bratty cunt dumb every once in a while, heh.”

you two lie there, basking in each other’s presence for a little while longer before the bedroom door creaks open. and to your horror, satoru stands there, seemingly bored by the whole scene.

“can you two keep it down?” satoru groans, dragging a hand down his face. “we’re trying to have a karaoke competition, but you guys keep going agh—”

suguru hurls a pillow at satoru, cutting off his mocking moan. “you’re next, asshole,” suguru grumbles, getting off of you and covering you with the sheets.

“you’re gonna fuck me next? wow, what happened to hi, hel— oww, okay, i’m going, i’m going!”

[endearng]

Special guest

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: Olivia's birthday is coming up. She has a special guest in mind. WC: 1.7k Warnings: mentions of absent fathers (sorry); reader is borderline paranoid about letting her kid down; they are pining hard - Spencer looks at reader not so respectfully. Please, let me know if I missed anything. A/N: I try my best to not describe the reader so that everyone feels included, but I feel like I should work better on that. If you have any advice on it, I'd be very thankful to hear it! Second fic in less than 24h, ohmy. This is a second part to 'Stranger danger' Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

A few weeks had passed after the incident with the power in your building. Since then, you saw Spencer sometimes and he always greeted you politely. Olivia once told you that she liked him so much because he was a nice ghost — he told her stories about the books he read and she absolutely loved them, going to the point of asking if she could borrow them once he had finished reading.

Little did she know, she would never have to wait long.

Their interactions always made you speechless. How was your 5-year-old daughter better than you at starting conversations? You could barely look him in the eye, despite the fact that he always made sure to flash you the brightest smiles. You reciprocated, but then Olivia always had something to say: about his funny clothes, about the book she was reading for school, about your moments together — you had a scheduled commitment every Friday, to take Olivia to wherever she wanted to go. She was very observant, and, just like you, had the habit of taking mental notes of the beautiful places you saw during your walks. That's how she knew where the public library was and knew the best coffee in town — she demanded having the same beverage as you, but you told the barista secretly to make it decaf.

As you both put on your shoes in the morning to leave the apartment, you said, "Oli, your birthday is coming up. Do you want to do anything with mommy?"

"I want a birthday party."

That made you freeze in your tracks for a moment. You've been avoiding throwing birthday parties for two years now, because Olivia's day always ended with a tinge of heartbreak by the absence of her father, who had decided to leave the both of you and move overseas to, maybe, start over. It hurt you to try to comfort her with something you didn't have control of, but you did it anyway because you'd rather hurt yourself than let your baby go through that kind of disappointment alone. You didn't really know what he was up to, and honestly, you didn't want to, either. You were doing just fine without him, but she was his daughter and still a child, so you knew she still missed him.

Your hands were shaking slightly as you tied her shoelaces. "Bunny ears, remember?" You asked softly, showing her how to do it: you always did it in the mornings, but you made sure to teach her in case they undid during her day at school. She nodded at you, flashing a little toothless smile. "Okay, baby, we'll do that," you smiled, trying to ease off the tension.

"I want invitation cards. Like the ones you had!" She said, excitedly. You huffed out a laugh, endeared by the fact that she remembered all the papers you showed her with photos and other memories of your childhood.

"No problem, baby," you said, getting up, smoothing your pencil skirt and opening the door. She went to the hall to press the elevator button, "we can do it." You said, more to yourself than to her.

Two weeks passed and you had everything ready for Olivia's birthday with the help of your closests friends, Victoria and Jude. You were planning on throwing her party at your parents' house, which had a big, beautiful yard with space enough for the kids to play all they wanted. You had ordered Olivia's favorite cake, red velvet, and a lot of other treats that you knew she loved.

"You know she'll be drunk on sugar, right?" Victoria asked, laughing. She remembered the last time she took Olivia to the movies and she was electric during the way back.

"It's her birthday, once a year won't kill her. Maybe it'll kill me, but eh, what's the matter?" You joked lightly and your friends laughed.

Jude had a checklist in her hands. "Okay, let's go over this so we can go back to our yearly drinking like there's no tomorrow date. We have the place, the food, the decoration... oh, no. Where are the invitations?"

"Oh, I got it. They're in my room. I had to put it away because Oli wanted to read them over and over again."

They nodded as you left your living room, walking down the hall so you could get said invitations. You felt dread creeping up on you when you couldn't find them in the top drawer of your bedside table. "I can't find them!" You yelled loud enough for the women to hear you.

"Are you sure you placed them here?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Not sure what happened, though." You murmured, already feeling a little disappointed. "I gotta look for it now. She drew it herself and I took a lot of copies. I can't possibly tell her I lost them, she would be heartbroken." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Victoria approached you to rub your arm, trying to comfort you. "Hey, we can look for it. We still have time." Jude said, smiling reassuringly.

"I know, I just don't wanna be too late." You said, giving them a tight-lipped smile.

So, you started looking for it in every corner of your apartment. You stayed in your bedroom, while Jude and Victoria went to Olivia's. You had cleaned the apartment today, a Saturday, when your daughter somsgimdz went to your parents', so that you'd have free time to spend and catch up with your friends. It was almost sundown, daylight fading softly and the lighting in your room was becoming darker as time went by. Suddenly, you heard your bell. Weird. You weren't expecting anybody.

"I'll get that!" You let your friends know.

Opening the door, you weren't expecting your neighbor. Rephrasing: the neighbor who Olivia adored so much. Spencer. That works, too. He has a name, after all. "Hey, hi!" He greeted you with a grin, looking shy.

"Hey, you!" You greeted him back. "Is everything okay?" You asked, a little unsure.

You took in his appearance. He looked tired, that's for sure, but it didn't stop him from looking like the most gorgeous man in existence. He wore his usual attire, carrying his caramel satchel leather bag. You didn't have an immediate answer, so you gulped when you noticed that you were looking a little longer than what's socially acceptable.

"Yeah, it's fine," he chuckled, unable to hold your stare for a moment longer. He considered, for a moment, that your daughter was the element needed for him to have a little confidence to speak when you were around. Well, shit. "I — um. I think these belong to you. I found it when I opened the door to my apartment." He handed you a bunch of papers. You blushed. You busied yourself so much with admiring him that you failed to notice that he had something in his hands.

He studied you for a moment. You looked beautiful that day. Not that you didn't look beautiful all the times you've seen him, but oh, well. Like the first time you met, you were wearing a dress. It was blue and it stopped mid-thigh. He had to stop himself from gulping at the sight of your bare, plush legs. It was different from what he was used to seeing you wear on working days, during the eventual elevator meetings. The dress hugged your curves beautifully, there was no question, like it had been made just for you. Your hair was loose and it fell over your shoulders. When you first answered the door, you had a worried frown on your face, but it quickly disappeared with his words. He felt relieved to see you get rid of your distress.

"Oh, goodness! Sorry about that. I was just looking for these." You gladly took them from his hand and your fingers accidentally brushed his. His hands were warm. "Olivia must have slided them under your door gap," you laughed nervously. You could feel two pairs of eyes looking at the interaction before them. You needed to brace yourself for their questions and very much possible teasing.

"Yeah, yeah. I supposed she did that, too." He laughed, quietly.

You thought for a moment. "You know, you should go. She really likes you. Talks about your conversations all the time and says she misses you when we don't run into you at some point." You revealed. It made Spencer's heart soar in his chest.

"Really?" He couldn't help but smile, even if he couldn't believe it. Not that you were a liar, but that it meant so much to your daughter to talk to him now and then. He felt alive at that moment, felt wanted. “I don’t want to impose.”

"Yeah, I mean, no! No problem, you wouldn’t be. We’d like to have you." You said, smile adorning your face. You took a card from your hands, offering it to him. "With us, I mean. It's going to be at my parents' house, we'll have a bunch of kids running around and cake." You surely looked like an idiot.

We’d like to have you, was all that he could hear.

Did you want him there for him or just because he was kind to your daughter?

Either way, "Thanks. I'll do my best to be there." He said, utterly happy. Saying your name lowly, followed by a 'goodbye', made your heart jump in your chest. You replied with a wave and a small grin. Your cheeks were sore from all the smiling. It was inevitable.

You turned around and had barely closed the door when Jude said, a little louder than her usual tone, "So, I see you found the invitation cards. I hope you gave one for Olivia's birthday party, not for a hot date." She playfully scolded you.

With wide eyes, you banged the door closed and turned around to yell, "Jude! What???"

Little did you know, Spencer heard it all. You know, thin walls, small distance and all. He grinned to himself, face flushed a deep red.

He was definitely looking forward to seeing you. And Olivia, too, of course. It was her birthday, after all.

[verstappen-cult]

I have a request for max!

Reader is a strategist for Mercedes. Max and her, they got married in secret and have a 2 year old daughter together.

I know this is not much to work with but you do you!

(I love your fics <3)

hi bestie! i left the mercedes’ strategist plot out of this, but i hope you still like it! btw this was gonna be really short and ended up being this other thing. <333

You look out the car window and then to your daughter playing with her favorite plushie next to you. She doesn’t know that you’re about to be the topic of conversation for the next week — month even. She only knows that there are gonna be a lot of people trying to take pictures of you both, and that you’re gonna see Dad’s friends too. 

“Hey, baby.” You whisper, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face. “You’re ready to see Daddy?” She smiles at the mention of her favorite person in the whole world, forgetting all about her toy. 

“Where are we?” She asks, looking out the window. 

You lift her up onto your lap, placing a kiss on her temple. “We’re gonna watch papa just like we do from home every Sunday.”

“We have fun watching papa.” 

“Yes, so,” You take your bag and her plushie before taking a deep breath. “let’s go and have some fun, then.”

It’s no secret to anyone that you and Max have been dating for quite a few years now. You used to be more public about your relationship, but then you got pregnant and Max decided that it was best if you kept things a little more private, and you were more than happy to do it until you started to miss going to the races and seeing him more often. 

Max was a bit reluctant at first, but after some — a lot — of convincing he accepted. The two of you agreed to put some boundaries and to take things slowly. The first step was going to the Monaco Grand Prix, so, you wouldn’t have to travel and he could be home by the end of the day with his favorite girls. And, if things become too much, you can just go home. 

The moment you set foot on the paddock, you know there is no going back. You feel nervous and like your whole body is on fire, but when you look at your daughter’s smile as you hold her in your arms, you forget about everything.

“Mama, look! Papa!” She points to the giant banner to your left. And there he is, alongside a few of the other drivers. 

“Oi!” Dani calls from a few meters away. You wish he would not have done it because it draws attention you really didn’t want. 

“Uncle Dani!” 

You see the exact moment people recognize you, reporters starting to make their way to you at the same time you hurry to Dani’s side. He has a big, bright smile on his face, he’s always smiling but you think he’s genuinely happy to see you and your daughter. 

“Hi, Dani.” The Aussie wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses your cheek as a greeting. 

“Hey, angel.” Your daughter makes grabby hands at Dani and, obviously, he immediately takes her in his arms. “Did you miss uncle Dani?” She nods, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. 

“Have you seen Max?” You ask him, but he shakes his head, too busy paying attention to whatever your daughter is telling him in the ear. 

You don’t feel comfortable. It’s been so long since you’ve been in the paddock that now feels like you’re attending your first race for the very first time. You were nervous then, you are terrified now as you see reporters approaching, calling your name and asking about your daughter. It’s not that they don’t know you and Max have a daughter, you and Max have been pretty open about her but always leaving her face out of the family photos you share on social media. However, this is news to everyone. This is a headline. And you know they’re just doing their job.

“Let’s go find him, okay?”

You barely hear him, trying to politely tell the reporter by your left that you will not give any interview and to stop asking about your daughter. Daniel has to give you a little pat on the back to make you walk, sending death glares to the people surrounding you in the process. 

There are phones and video cameras following you along the paddock, and you think you should’ve accepted Max’s offer of waiting for you at the entrance. But you didn’t want to be a burden. You were pretty confident about handling things by yourself but now… not so much. 

“Hey, are you okay? You’re a little pale.” Dani’s voice is soothing. You’re glad he’s carrying your daughter because you don’t feel strong enough to do it. Someone behind you — one of the many, many people following you — pushes you, making you bump into another person by your side. “Watch out! There’s a baby here!”

Daniel is mad and doesn’t hesitate in wrapping an arm around your waist, guiding you inside the nearest place that turns out to be the McLaren hospitality. 

“I’m gonna call Max, alright?”  

“What’s happening outside? Oh, you’re here!”

“Uncle Lando!” Your daughter’s voice is what finally pulls you out of your head. 

You walk to Dani, taking her in your arms. “Did you miss Uncle Lando too?”

“Is something wrong?” Lando asks again, bopping the little girl on the nose. 

“So many people,” You breathe out, closing your eyes for a second. “I didn’t think it was going to be this way, really.”

“Well, it’s a big deal that you’re here. Both of you.” Lando looks outside, reporters and cameras ready to catch a glimpse for when you have to leave. “Do they know? The media, I mean, about…” He looks to your hand, right where your wedding ring is. 

You groan, hiding your face in your daughter’s neck, making her giggle. “No, but I’m sure it will be worse when they notice.”

There’s a huge commotion outside that draws your attention. When you look, you find Max trying to make his way through the mass of people. Seeing him makes you relax immediately, but then he’s pushing a man when this shoves a microphone in his face and you don’t feel so relaxed anymore.

“Shit, shit” Daniel is quick to open the doors and go outside, a few members of McLaren following him. “Can you hold her, please?” 

Your daughter goes willingly with Lando as you run outside. Daniel stands between the reporter and Max, his hand on your husband’s chest trying to stop him from jumping over him to get to the man. 

There’s a bigger commotion when they see you, everyone shouting your name and asking questions that you don’t pay attention to, but it’s enough to make Max forget about fighting the reporter.

Max runs to you, hands cupping your face. “Hey, baby. Are you okay? Something happened?” 

“I’m okay. Just—let’s go inside, please.” 

Max doesn’t hesitate. He grabs your hand tightly, not caring about being seen going inside McLaren hospitality, not when you and his daughter are there needing him.

“Papa!” 

Your husband’s face lights up, that pretty smile you love so much making its way onto his face. "Mijn mooie meisje.” The tension on his face goes away the moment he takes her in his arms. 

“You wanna go home?” Lando asks you, handing you a glass of water. 

“Yes, you’re going home.” Max answers for you, hugging his daughter tightly against his chest. 

“We are not. We knew this would happen, well, not at this scale but,” You shrug, taking a sip of water. “I don’t wanna go. We should’ve planned this better.” 

“Yeah, you should have.” Daniel jokes, but when no one laughs he just stands there awkwardly. “Look, she’s already here. You’re not gonna send her home, are you?”

Lando bites his lip before saying, “You won’t be able to hide forever.” 

“I know!” Max sighs, putting down his daughter on one of the sofas. “Why don’t you play while I talk with your uncles for a bit?” Unaware of everything, she just takes her plushie and waits for you to be finished. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel unsafe.”

“We’re safe here. Everyone will take care of us, I know that.” You take his hand, thumb caressing the back of it. “It was just the shock of experiencing all of this again. It reminded me of the first time I attended a race.” You say, shyly. 

“Oh, I remember that.” He has that special glint in his eyes that tells you that he remembers every little detail of that day. 

“Uh, gross.” Lando pretends to throw up, earning a playful push from Daniel.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Yes, love. Besides, how are you gonna tell her she won’t be watching papa race?” You look at your little baby, talking with her plushie and showing the toy around. “I don’t know which one of us is more excited.”

“You know it’s only a matter of time before they notice this?” Max takes your hand to his lips, kissing your wedding ring.

“I want them to know.” 

“Oh, thank God!” He exclaims, peppering kisses all over your face. “I hate not wearing my ring on race weekends.”

[seungkw1]

you're so sweet, but... — hvc

♡ pairing: bf!vernon x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: brat!reader, brattamer!vernon, sub!reader, softdom!vernon, praise kink, degradation kink, slight exhibitionism, unprotected piv sex (do not do this), fingering (f. receiving), gagging (f. receiving), lots of spit going on, body worship, spanking, manhandling, hair pulling, head pushing, nipple play, doggy, riding, dacryphilia, oral (m. receiving/f. receiving implied), cum swallowing, slight possessiveness, pet names (princess, babygirl, good girl, slut), minor fluff at the end ♡ a/n: ummmm yeah so here’s the vernon fic i’ve talked about writing for a while i kinda went feral hope u like it !! :)

Your sweet, wonderful boyfriend always treats you so well - but you secretly wish he would be a little bit meaner sometimes. One day while he’s working from home, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

“How long is the call?”

“Shouldn't be more than an hour.”

You pout at your boyfriend, tugging at his arm, trying to drag him away from work. 

“That's too longgggg,” you whine. 

“Sorry babe, duty calls.”

You cross your arms, rolling your eyes at him. “Vernon, you can't just say duty calls about a Zoom meeting.”

Vernon turns around, taking your hands in his as he steps back toward you. He leans in and gives you a big kiss on the lips. 

“Love you.”

He spins you around and sends you off with a light tap on the butt. 

“It's a good thing you're cute,” you say, looking back at him with a grin. He gives you a playful smile before shutting the door, leaving it slightly ajar. 

You last about 15 minutes. Ever since you moved in with your boyfriend, you hadn't spent much time apart from him at all - so when you went on a trip with friends, you didn't realize how much you'd miss him. You were only gone a week, but it was enough to drive you nuts - and make you stupidly horny. 

You lay upon your bed, caressing yourself lightly through your clothes, imagining Vernon was here on top of you, stripping your clothes off so he can worship your crevice of your body. He always is so good to you, speaking soft, sweet praises as he fucks you: 

“You’re taking me so well, baby.”

“You look so pretty riding me like this.”

“That’s it, cum for me darling.”

It’s incredibly hot, and you're so grateful to have such a loving partner who prioritizes your pleasure above everything. 

However…

You’ve never admitted this to him, but sometimes you wish he would be a bit meaner. 

Vernon is well aware that you have a praise kink - it pairs perfectly with his love of complimenting you. But recently you’ve started dreaming of your sweet, wonderful boyfriend calling you a dirty little slut as he throws you around, pins you down to the bed, fills your pussy up with cum and then fucks it into you all over again. And it really turns you on. 

You’ve been hesitant to share this with him - only because you don't know if it’s something he'd be into. In the year or so you've been together, he has never spoken down to you in any way - the man simply doesn't have a mean bone in his body. You worry it would upset him if you expressed this desire to him and he couldn't deliver. 

You ponder this as you lay there, fantasizing about being dominated, degraded, fucked so hard you forget your own name. You don’t even have to touch yourself to know how wet this is making you.

A very debaucherous idea suddenly comes to you. 

You think about it for a minute. You know you probably shouldn't do it, but you're feeling so depraved right now that you don't even care. 

You hop to your feet, making your way back to Vernon’s office. The door is still unlatched. Praying the hinges aren't creaky, you slowly push it open about halfway, enough to bring your whole body into view. You see him sitting at the desk’s chair, looking a bit bored but focused, his posture pin-straight and perfect as always. His eyes flicker over to you as he notices you standing there. He looks at you with concern - you never interrupt him when he’s at work unless it's something urgent. He tilts his head slightly, silently asking you if something is wrong. 

You bite your lip to hide the smirk creeping upon your face. You slowly lift your shirt, sliding it above your bra to reveal your tits. His eyes widen. He’s still on camera, so he doesn't let himself react more than than, but you can tell he’s getting flustered already. 

You pull your shirt over your head, dropping it to the floor. Your hands make their way to your jeans, unfastening them, slowly dragging the zipper down. Vernon stares at you, shaking his head as subtly as possible. 

Don't do it, his face reads. 

Doing it anyway, you start pulling your jeans off, caressing your hips seductively as you slide the pants down your legs. As you kick the jeans off, you pull your underwear up tight against your cunt, showing off the existing wet spot - making it even wetter as the thin fabric sticks to your soaked folds. Your pussy is all but on full display. 

Vernon’s ears burn bright red. He tries to ignore you, turning back to his computer. 

“Sorry, can you repeat the question?” he asks somebody on the call, his voice straining to remain unwavering. You hear a muffled voice in his headphones, repeating what they just asked. Vernon gives an abrupt nod and answers the question. 

You wait until he finishes his response. Once he’s done speaking, you see his attention start to drift back over to you. You reach behind you, releasing the hook of your bra. Your breasts fall softly out of the garment as you slide it off; you toss the bra toward Vernon, not quite far enough for it to be spotted in the webcam, but daringly close. 

The flush begins to spread to his neck. He maintains a cool facade, but you can tell he is stewing inside. You smirk, pleased with yourself for managing to make him so distraught so easily. 

He answers another question, shifting in his seat slightly to accommodate the growing erection in his pants.  

You take a step into the room. He shoots you a panicked look. You take another step, reaching over to the desk. You lean over and- 

Pewwww. 

With a sad sounding noise, the entire computer shuts off. You release the power button. Vernon stares at the black screen for a moment, in shock. He turns back to you, shock washing over his face. 

“What the fuck are you doi-”

You disappear from the doorway in an instant. Vernon runs after you. 

“Hey!!”

He chases you into the bedroom. 

“What the hell was that for??”

“I dunno,” you reply, grinning at him coyly. “Just felt like it.”

“You can't just interrupt when I’m in a meeting like that! What if it was important??”

“Was it?”

“No, but-”

“See? You’ll be fine. Just say your internet went out.”

He purses his lips shut. “That’s not the point. You could have gotten me in huge trouble.”       

“Oh no,” you say cheekily, poking him in the chest. “I guess you'll just have to put me in my place then.”

Vernon looks at you, his expression shifting from anger to disbelief. He lets out a huff. 

“So that’s what you want,” he responds incredulously. “You’re acting like a brat on purpose.”

You step forward, grinning as you get in his face. 

“Now you get it.”

“Jesus y/n, that was too risky!” he scolds.  

You clasp your hand tightly on the bulge in his pants. He lets out a sharp groan. 

“Yeah, but you like it.”

He stares at you, trying to be upset, but his eyes start to glaze over as you squeeze his cock. 

“Now,” you continue, speaking softly. You lean in and let your lips linger in front of his. “Are you gonna fuck me or not?”

He stands there, mouth slightly agape, dumbstruck by your audacity. 

“I-”

Before he can continue, you start undoing the button on his jeans. You tug on the zipper, having to put a little extra effort in due to his hard cock straining to escape from the confines of the denim.  The zipper glides down over the bulging mass; he sighs at the relieving sensation. You pull the waistband of his boxers down just enough to free his tip - he's already leaking with precum. You collect it on your index finger and bring it up to your mouth, licking your finger clean. 

“God,” Vernon groans through gritted teeth, his cock twitching against his stomach. “You’re a fucking menace.”

He reaches for your core. He pulls your hopelessly drenched panties aside, dragging the pads of his fingers over your slit. 

“Look how fucking wet you are.”

You whimper as he slips his middle finger inside you. He slides it in and out a few times before adding his ring finger. You cry out as he curls his fingertips to hit your g-spot - he always knows how to touch you in your most sensitive spots to drive you fucking crazy. 

He starts fucking your pussy, the heel of his palm pressing deliciously against your clit with each motion of his hand. After several deep pumps he pulls his hand out - it’s already soaked. 

“Open,” he commands. 

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. He shoves his fingers inside. You latch onto them, sucking your own juices off. He pushes further into your mouth, making you gag. Your eyes start to water. 

By the time he pulls out, his hand is coated with your spit. A big string of saliva sticks to his fingers; it breaks, the remainder dribbling down your chin. Vernon leans in, slipping his tongue into your mouth, dragging it around the inside of your teeth.  He reaches for your cunt again, gently circling your clit. His spit-covered fingertips glide easily over the bud, the stimulation making your pussy clench around nothing. 

“Oh my god,” you moan into his mouth. You start grinding your cunt against his fingers. “Just fuck me already.”

You whine as he pulls his hand away. Grabbing you by the hips, he pushes you over to the bed. He practically throws you onto the mattress. He pulls his jeans and boxers down in one go, yanking them off hurriedly. His shirt quickly joins the discarded clothes on the floor. Standing fully nude before you now, he slowly begins stroking his cock. With one finger he reaches beneath the crotch of your underwear, pulling the elastic back. The cool air of the room stings pleasantly against your wet cunt. He releases; you jump slightly as it snaps back against your pussy. 

“Get rid of these.”

You don't move. “Do it for me.”

He stares down at you, his eyes filled with lust.

“Fine,” he growls.

He reaches for you, running his hands up the sides of your thighs. You lift yourself up a bit so he can strip your panties off - but instead he grasps you by the hips, flipping you over onto your stomach.

He nearly rips your underwear off, not bothering to remove them, but sliding them down just enough to expose your cunt. He smacks you on the ass, hard. You let out a small cry at the stinging sensation.

“You like that?” he asks as he traces his fingernails over the tender area.

“Mhmm,” you mumble into the sheets.

He grabs you by the hair, yanking your head up.

“Speak up, princess.”

“Yes,” you whine. 

He spanks you again, even harder this time. Your skin begins to burn where his hand struck you.

“More,” you plead.

He leans over, gripping your hair in his fist still as he speaks softly into your ear.

“Oh I don’t think so,” he mutters. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. “You’ve been very bad today, I’m not just going to give you what you want so easily.”

He grabs his cock in his other hand, leading the tip to your heat. He strokes it over your entrance a few times, the combination of your juices and spit coating his cockhead. He pushes into you slightly to tease you, but you’re so wet that it slips right in. You cry out at the sensation; he lets out a long moan as he slowly pushes further, making you take his full length. He rests for a moment with your pussy wrapped around his whole cock, breathing deeply.

“God your pussy is so perfect,” he whispers into your ear. “And it’s all mine, isn’t it babygirl?”

“Y-yeah,” you whimper. “All yours.”

“Good,” he grumbles. “A good little slut all for me.”

He begins to fuck you, slowly at first, sliding in and out of you, making you feel every inch of him. Quickly though his pace increases, thrusting into you with powerful strokes, his hand unreleasing in your hair. Your legs start to quiver as his cock hits you in the perfect spot each time. You grasp onto the sheets, desperately clinging to them as your boyfriend fucks you like never before, your cries muffled into the mattress. Vernon pulls you up again, your moans filling the air as he wraps his other arm around your torso, squeezing your breasts as he holds you tight against him. He plays with your nipples, pinching them and rolling the bud around between his thumb and index finger. You already start to feel your orgasm approaching when he releases your tits, sliding his hand down your stomach and reaching for your clit.

“Fuck I’m so close,” you cry out between an unholy symphony of moans. Vernon groans as he fucks you even harder, his cock pounding into you as his fingertips flutter over your sensitive bud. Your screams escalate, so near to your climax - but before you can cum he pulls his cock out of you; he rests it against your ass, dragging your wetness all over your skin. He flips you around again to face him, throwing you onto the pillows. 

“Not yet,” he tells you as he climbs over you. He lays beside you, grabbing your arms and hoisting you on top of him. “Wanna see your pretty little face when you cum for me.”

You straddle him, sitting with your pussy resting upon his shaft. He laces his fingers through yours, holding your hands as he pulls you toward him. You begin to rock your hips back and forth, sliding your cunt up and down his length. Your clit pulsates as his hardness presses against it with each movement.

“Want you to cum like this,” he mutters, his eyelids halfway closed as your pussy strokes his cock. He grips onto your hands tightly, supporting you as you pleasure yourself upon him. You grind against him, your cunt throbbing, begging for release. A burning sensation builds in your gut; your mind starts to go blank - the only thing you can think about is Vernon, laying under you as he watches you unravel atop him, losing all composure on his cock.

“I’m gonna cum,” you wail. You relinquish all control, letting your orgasm take over. Your body trembles as every nerve in your body is set ablaze like fireworks. You scream out your boyfriend’s name as you release over him, cumming long and hard, your climax seemingly endless.

You start to come down, breathing heavily as you recover from your high. You collapse onto Vernon, laying your body on his chest as you bury your face in his neck. He lets go, sliding his hands around you, squeezing you against him in a tight embrace. He lets you catch your breath, but only for a moment. 

“Look at me,” he demands as he lifts you up to face him. Your face is undoubtedly a mess of tears, but Vernon thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“Such a good girl for me,” he says as he plays with your breasts. His cock twitches against his stomach, painfully hard, straining for release. “Should I give you my cum now, love?”

“Please,” you beg.

“Where do you want it, baby?”

You open your mouth wide and exaggeratedly stick your tongue out. 

“Fuck,” Vernon groans. “Whatever you want, babygirl.”

Quickly you climb off of him, kneeling between his legs as he sits upon the edge of the bed. You take his cock in your hand, giving him a few pumps as you take his balls in your mouth. You lick up his length, letting his tip rest against your swollen, wet lips as you look up at him with big doe eyes. He brushes your hair out of your face.

“So beautiful.”

You stick your tongue out, giving his cock kitten licks as you gaze into his eyes. You then take his length in your mouth, swallowing him to his base.

“Oh fuckkkk,” he moans.

You look up at him as you suck his cock, gagging on his length and creating a mess of spit all over him. He stares at you as if he thinks you’re the most desirable thing in the universe - and to him, you are.

“Look at you, princess,” he coos. “So pretty with my cock in your pretty little mouth.”

You speed your pace, your head bobbing up and down faster and faster. Nothing matters more to you in the world right now than bringing him pleasure. His eyelids flutter as his eyes begin to roll back, soft moans emanating from his lips as he pushes your head down, making you take all of him with each stroke of your mouth. Grotesque sounds try to escape you, to no avail; the vibrations of your hums send Vernon over the edge. He lets out a string of “ah, ah, ah”s, getting louder as he gets closer and closer, until…

“Oh my goddddd.”

His hips jerk upwards as he releases, painting the back of your throat with hot white ropes of cum. His cock throbs in your mouth as you swallow his load. The pressure upon your head lessens as the tension in his body begins to fade. Giving you a final few spurts of cum, he relaxes; he pulls you back up onto the bed, taking you in his arms as he rolls over onto his side. He holds you against him, you as his little spoon, as he peppers your cheek with kisses. He whispers into your ear, his voice low and raspy.

“I fucking love you.”

You smile. “I fucking love you too, baby.”

He takes your chin in his hand as he turns your face toward his. He gives you a long kiss. As his lips part from yours, he squishes your face playfully.

“But don’t do that again,” he says with a grin.

You giggle. “I won’t - but next time I come home from a trip you have to fuck me right away.”

Vernon presses his nose against yours, his face dead serious. “Yes ma’am.”

You kiss him again. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

He shakes his head. “Can’t work, the internet is out.”

“Oh yeah,” you grin back at him. “Bummer.”

“Besides,” he continues, shifting you onto your back and making his way down the bed, positioning himself between your legs. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you up to his face.

“I’m starving.”

[sungjinhos]

I THINK WE MARRIED IN VEGAS

✷ You and Jeonghan have always been friends, and friends go on a trip together, right? And somehow friends always end up marrying in Las Vegas right? And somehow friends become roommates as well right? That all seems very normal when Yoon Jeonghan has a weird addiction to doing the dumbest things ever just for shock value.

✷ genre: comedy (?), angst, smut (minors don't interact)

✷ word count: 28.244

✷ featuring: Yoon Ttoram, Choi Seungcheol, Lee Seokmin, Kim Mingyu as the unnamed satan-spit roommate one night stand, and Xu Minghao as the gothic impasto painter guy. 

✷ thea’s note: hey y’all this is my longest fic yet so I’m weirdly proud. I had fun writing this and trying to figure out how to build this Jeonghan and yes I did rewatched the birth of Ttoram while writing this. By the way - love you guys but the whole credit/debt/buying a house is just for plot I do not know how any of this works in America (and it is mainly set in America because I needed Vegas lol) <3 So bear with it. Also thanks to @wongyuuu for keeping me company in this nanowimo challenge, and thaks to @toruro Mika you are the best <3 thank you for reading this 

✷ Smut warnings under the read more ✷

✷ smut count: lost count of how many times Jeonghan thought he was going to cum on his pant, 1 dick sucked, teenagers level of horniness, non penetrative sex still sex, a lot of kissing, a 3 second of cumplay still a cumplay i guess. 

"Should we do it?" you hear Jeonghan ask, his face focused on something outside the car’s window. The lights of all the neon signs dance on his face and features—like a scene from a movie. He looks tired and overworked even though you are somewhat on vacation.

"Do what?" you ask, trying to understand what he meant. Maybe he was talking about a hotel spa and you missed the beginning of the sentence because you were too lost in your own thoughts? Yeah, a message would be a lifesaver right now.

"That," he says, pointing at one of the hundreds of little chapels in Las Vegas. This one has a deal sign in big and bold letters—an Elvis Presley priest, a bouquet, a professional photographer, and a bottle of champagne for half the price. Well, you never thought about off-season in Vegas, but maybe business was a little rough at this time of the year, but to be quite honest that did seem like a great deal—the shopaholic in you would fall for it if it didn’t involve marriage.

"Are you drunk already?" you ask. Even though you have known the man for years, you still can’t read Jeonghan properly.

Sometimes you think about how he is a book that is written in a different language, and you couldn’t have access to him without a dictionary on the side. Jeonghan does look like a classic—he is well put together, he is fancy, and he would be one of those books that have an embellished spine—the prettiest book on your bookshelf. But at the same time, he is one of those books that need commentaries on every page because somehow the author didn't care about giving enough context or didn't think his work would survive so many years. And one that the storylines end up being totally fucked up, so basically a Russian classical.

"No, I'm painfully sober," Jeonghan says while leaning his head on the window of the car. It almost makes you laugh when you hear the loud sound of him bumping his head, even the Uber driver who didn’t utter a word turns his head back. "It's just," he starts again, "I heard Seungcheol talking about it, and it seems nice to be married."

"What are you talking about?” you say in disbelief,  “Seungcheol is not married yet, he is having a bachelor party in Vegas. He is drinking his weight in alcohol and spending the college tuition of his firstborn in the casino. You and him know about the same thing about marriage, which equals barely anything."

“Yeah but he did talk about all the perks—Oh thank you,” he notices that the Uber finally arrived at the hotel feat casino and all the Vegas shenanigans. Jeonghan holds the car door for you, like a true gentleman—you almost scoff. “What I was trying to say is, Seungcheol did talk to me about being married, it doesn’t feel like a bad deal at all.” Again, he holds the door for you.

“So we should just get married in Vegas because Seungcheol said it is a great deal?” you ask Jeonghan like he said the stupidest thing ever, which is partially true. It was one of the stupidest things he’d ever said to you, and you’ve known the man for years—you’ve witnessed a fair  amount of his stupidity, all laced with his all-knowing smile. Every time you tried to understand what he was talking about it always left you feeling like this man was insane.

“I mean? What would you lose?” Jeonghan asked, crossing his arms after pushing the elevator buttons—one for your room, the other one so the door closes faster (he is one of those people).

“A lot?” you say almost laughing. What the fuck? It resonates in your mind, almost like the words are bumping the walls of your cranium, like the old Windows 98 screensaver logo.

“Yeah? Like what?” Jeonghan asks and the ping of the elevator makes sure both of you know that it arrived before opening the door.

“Freedom,” you say, trying to stay normal and not succumb to Jeonghan—you both hear someone saying,“Hold!” across the hall. Jeonghan just smiles and clicks the button to close the door. Maniac really, without basic education. To be fair though, it was a frat dude with another frat dude who could wait for the next elevator without dying, but still.

“Come on, you are a book editor. You love everything that has nothing to do with freedom, you love rules and everything that shackles you.” You scoff hearing Jeonghan’s words.

You want to argue, you want to kick and scream and pick a fight because is he basically calling you boring right? He is totally calling you the most boring person he’s ever met, and you are in Vegas - and still, somehow, you are the boring girl. But he is right about it—you do not leave your comfort zone, you do not do crazy very well, and you don’t even drink that much because losing control of situations makes you slightly insane. And Jeonghan is right because he is one of your closest friends, and you talked about it with him, he even knows how this is a recurrent topic in your therapy. Asshole.

“Well, still don’t give me the urge to marry you, your sales points are awful—how do you hold your job?” You ask side eyeing your friend, well, if you wanted to marry someone calling them boring is not the right way to do it.

“I do a better job when I need to sell to investors, I’m not giving my all right now since you are not paying me,” Jeonghan says, leaving the elevator and looking back at you. Well, not giving your all when you are asking someone for marriage - number two mistake.

“I’d hope so, otherwise your name would be number one in the next layoff,” you say rolling your eyes.

“Come on,” Jeonghan scoffs. “You didn’t hear Seungcheol talking about the benefits," he says, opening the door to your shared hotel door. The deal was to sleep in a weird hotel that may have bedbugs or share a room and a bed with Jeonghan in a more upscale hotel whose bathroom didn’t look like a crime scene. Not a difficult decision, to be quite honest.

“Is Seungcheol now a pro-marriage coach?” you ask, taking off your shoes and leaving your bag on the nearest chair.

“Probably, I mean, the side money would be crazy,” he says, taking off his watch and leaning against the table, again crossing his arms. “What I meant is did you ever think about the tax deduction, health insurance benefits, leave benefits? Also, Seungcheol did remind me that the bank raises the chance of getting approved credits if the spouse has a great credit history.” 

“Yet he is the one marrying because he loves his girlfriend,” you remind Jeonghan, because apparently he is forgetting one the key ingredients of marriage in contemporary societies - love, affection, and a dose of “I love you but leaving with you every time you forget the toothpaste open is making me thinking about how life in hell would look like.”

“Right,” Jeonghan scoffs, making you even more curious.

“What would you need credits for?” you ask. Jeonghan is an unmarried and childless man, who works on investments, travels twice a year, and has a car. You on the other hand work in a crumbling industry - books, who reads books? - don’t travel a lot and your car is like twelve years old.

“Marry me and I tell you,” Jeonghan answered without letting the ball drop, quick on his feet like always, you could never catch this man.

“Tell me and I will think about it,” You try to pry.

“A house.” He says earnestly.

Again - you know Jeonghan, and you know your friend is a lunatic, but you also know when he is being completely honest with you. The man did want that house, which was completely weird. Jeonghan was a city guy, he was living in a rented apartment sure, but it was a great apartment, it even had a view. He worked downtown, why would he need a house?

“A house?” You try again, trying to get more details of what the heck is making your friend go crazy out of a sudden.

“Yeah, a house.” He says shrugging like it is the most common thing ever, maybe it is a well-known scheme of marrying for taxes and credits that you don’t know, maybe you are late. Maybe you are outdated putting together marriage and love in the same sentence, maybe, the world has changed. “Will you marry me?” Jeonghan asks you in his dullest voice ever like he is tired and completely bored.

“No.” You deadpan.

“Come on, at least pretend that you are thinking about it,” Jeonghan says, lying on the bed horizontally, his face is now closer to you and his legs are too big so they hang out of the bed, like a kid almost. “It has four bedrooms so you can move and say fuck you to Laurel the accountability girl.”

Well, that makes you think about it. He should have started with that. Maybe if he just proposed a new roommate scheme you would’ve said yes in the uber.

“I don't hate her that much,” you lied through your teeth, you hated that girl. You blamed the real state crisis because the rent was crazy, sharing the apartment was a good deal on paper, and half of the rent money went to your savings account so you could live in peace - Jeonghan actually advised you on how to save and where to invest if you wanted to retire quickly, but you never really thought about buying shares and selling shares and the whole ordeal.

“Fuck you,” He laughs, “every week I have to hear you complain how she lets food go bad and how it leaves your fridge stinky enough to make you almost puke, and that only happens when she doesn't food go bad on the kitchen counter or wait, do you remember when she forgets to lock the door two times last week?”

“Well, I am sorry if I have listened to true crimes podcast enough to be actually aware of the horrors of being a woman and how serial killers are out there just waiting for you to sleep with the fucking door open,” you say like you are the most reasonable person ever.

“And you are right, what I am saying is that I would lock the door so no one can enter the house, I would be a better roommate.”  

“Sure we do not have to marry to be roommates we can look for suitable places in our price range,”

“Look at this,” Yoon Jeonghan says, fiddling with his phone, “It has four bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, the kitchen is great, it has a backyard and a solarium.”

“Fuck-”  You say, sitting on the bed, your thigh close enough to his arm that you feel the warmth of his skin, “that’s, that's crazy.” 

“I know,” he says turning on the bed and closing his hand on his stomach like he is dead, just staring at the ceiling, “The price is not bad either, one of my clients is trying to sell so he can invest in a new startup so it is not actually in the market right now but will be in a few weeks so-”

“Did you try to get the loan?”  You ask, finger still going on his phone looking at different pics of this completely perfect house. All the rooms were big, and with natural light - crazy. The Solarium looked like a thing out of this world. And you could see yourself living there, if you had enough money you could live the dream, but that house was just out of your price range. God, with that garden you could have a dog. Damn.

“I don't want to pay interest to a bank,” Jeonghan almost whines, because he knows how this whole thing works and how he would have to pay the loan and half of the loan because banks are greedy bastards.

“Can I have two bedrooms?”

“What do you need two bedrooms for?” Jeonghan asks, finally looking at you and dropping his i-am-almost-dead act.

“My room, one office,” you explain. You know the office would be the one with two larger windows facing the garden. Oh what a joy - to build a life you would never live, it was indeed one of your favorite hobbies, maybe that’s why you love books so much.

“Ok, I guess. I can make something out of the basement.” Jeonghan replies nonchalantly making you laugh.

Maybe that’s why you two were friends, you had a great time speaking nonsense to one another. You both just kept feeding into whatever fantasy you built, like reality could not touch everything. You and Jeonghan had this weird pattern of just sitting, eating and talking for hours and hours about whatever that had nothing to do with the truth. What would you do if you won the lottery? What would you do when you retire? What would you do if you woke up on a desert island? What would you do if your boss was imprisoned for embezzlement? Ok not the last one, scratch that, this one actually happened.

“I can give you 5% of the price tag, and we can share the loan if it matches my current rent price range, but we need to actually draft something with a lawyer later so we can only sell the house to ourselves, I don’t trust you enough to buy this house without a lawyer on my side.”

“Dude-” Jeonghan jerks on the bed, he sits and turns his body to face you. “Wait, do you hate Laurel that much?”

“Yoon Jeonghan, do you want a marriage to up your credit score or what? I paid my student loans in record time, the banks love me.” 

“I don’t know if you are joking or not,” He tells you. 

"Can you call room service?" You ask heading to the bathroom, while you tie your hair - like you are preparing yourself for a dire work task - maybe talk to a translator about a deadline, they are worse than writers, "I think we will need more alcohol." 

"Wait," you hear Jeonghan's voice echo through the door, "are we actually gonna do it?" 

You are joking. 

And you know Jeonghan was too. With the years of knowing him, you knew that the majority of things that left Jeonghan's mouth had a shock value purpose. Induce distress first, we talk about truth later - or never. That made you 100% sure that you would never marry that man. You knew him enough - twelve years, since high school. He knew you as well - he knew all your teenage traumas, all of your romance fiasco, and he met all of your exes. 

You would never, never, marry that man.

Right?

Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

When you open your eyes and the white ceiling greets you, you can hear yourself groaning almost involuntarily. Your head aches. You know you will regret everything that happened the night before, even though you don't know what actually happened, and what you need to hold yourself accountable for. But you know the taste of a life-changing hangover that has a side dish of regret and a cup of shame to go. But it couldn’t possibly be so bad right?

Ok, maybe moving your body was not the very first thing to do. You try to open your eyes again. Well, at least you were in your own hotel room. Jeonghan is by your side, his arm across your stomach and somehow his face is near your armpit. You try to sniffle yourself, but so far doesn't like you are actually stinky. Your deodorant was doing a great job so far, maybe it actually has a 24-hour action or something like that.

You try to lift yourself up, sitting in the bed, head in hand because everything spins. Oh God help you. Besides the headache you feel sticky and sweaty, and all gross. You can't believe you didn't shower, and if you didn't shower you didn't take your makeup off, and if you didn't take your makeup off you totally threw your 43-day steak of doing your skincare routine. Fuck. Maybe you could just delete the app, or pretend that yesterday never happened. Deal with the blank day that screams how bad you fucked up was not an option though, it would never happen.

“What the fuck did we drink?” You hear Jeonghan's hoarse voice. You take the hands off your eyes, the clarity feels like punching your cornea and brain, and Jeonghan's state is not very different from yours, his shirt is open and ruffled, his arms are shielding his eyes from the light entering the room, his hair is messy and he looks like he needed four days of sleep.

“Fuel? Petrol? Satan spit in a cup?” You answer dropping yourself on the bed again, every joint of your body aches. It is ridiculous how you feel trapped in a 90 years old body, and like that is not enough you feel nauseated beyond words. And every time you can feel and hear Jeonghan breathing it feels like it is piercing your skull, would be rude to ask your friend to stop breathing and just stay completely still? He would understand, right?

“Do you think room service can get us some painkillers?” He groans lifting himself up this time, “Or maybe a gun?”

“Can you call them? I think I will puke if I sit for more than half a minute,” you say, your hand going into your mouth as if it would actually help if the worst-case scenario happened.

“I think I can, the problem is that you need to get me the phone,” Jeonghan tells you groaning between words. His hand points to the object and there is no way in hell you are moving to get that, that would mean you getting up and turning and being alive altogether.

“I can't I told you I gonna puke,” you try to explain how serious your condition - also known as hangover - is.

“It is by your side of the bed" He groans again and yet he sounds just like a petulant child, maybe it is a gift.

“I can't I will puke on the carpet it only makes things worse,” you try again, “or worse I can puke on the bed, you included in the radio of the vomit you know it splashes.”

“Ok, stand still,” Jeonghan says, “don't kick me, I'm doing it for both of us”

And you do as you are told because being still right now is the only thing you can do - even moving your eyeballs seems too much right. So Jeonghan just dropped his body on top of yours, he is also sweaty, and he reeks of alcohol. Damn, he actually smells like gasoline. He picks up the phone and presses a few buttons. His body is still above yours, pressing into you.

“Be quick you are pressing my blade," you say after the surprise of having him against you fazes out.

“What the fuck do you need to pee or vomit? Ah yes, hello,” He says changing his voice in the middle of the sentence from something that says intimacy is a disease to his customer service voice without pausing, “hm do you guys have room service that includes painkillers?” He waits, nodding his head as he hears something before he remembers his on the telephone. “Oh okay, thank you, can you send it? Oh yeah great, yes if you can do that, yes, pancakes, toasts with poached eggs and avocado, coffee hmm” he thinks about it, looks at you, thinks about a second or two, and then adds, “Can you send us four cups of coffee? Thank you.”

Jeonghan finishes the call with a groan leaving his mouth, he places the phone on its holder. But when you think he will get himself off of you he only plops down, his body weight getting heavier. His bones poking your body, what the fuck he was doing with your elbow on your ribcage?

“Jeonghan what the fuck-" You complain, trying to kick your legs in a vain attempt to make your friend move.

“I got us painkillers and food, let me recharge for a bit stop complaining,” Jeonghan says in a dead tone of voice, almost like he is dealing with a kid throwing some type of tantrum - the only thing is that, in this occasion, the child is you and somehow you want to kick his shin, because you are the one right in this situation, and you could totally just plop down in a mall disgusting floor if Yoon Jeonghan was your father too.

“You are heavy!” You try again but somehow Jeonghan is stronger than you think and his body is still over yours like nothing is happening, maybe you are just dehydrated and fucking muscle-less, maybe the yoga wasn’t doing much when you almost killed your liver.

“I am not,” Jeonghan says, now he is the one being the moody child in the supermarket, maybe he will go off without parental supervision. Oh wait, this was Yoon Jeonghan he actually did wander away when he was out about with his parent and ended up three blocks away just because he saw an ice cream truck. Jeonghan was the easiest kid to be kidnapped, you ask yourself how he ended up being safe and sound, and in one piece.

“Just because you are skinny it doesn’t mean you aren’t heavy.” You try again pushing on Jeonghan bony shoulder, even that is pointy. “bones are heavy too, get off of me!”

“You kind of stink," Jeonghan says, his head still lodged in the space between your neck and shoulder.

“Well you asshole you are not better yourself, and you are stinky too and sticky like you showered in bear or something.”

“Maybe I did, I don’t know I can't actually think,” He groans finally trying to lift himself up, “We should shower,” he says sitting on the bed and looking down at you.

“You go first,” both of you say at the same time

You end up going first. Mainly because you needed to pee and you think that once you are up you may as well just use the opportunity to shower otherwise you would just drop dead on the floor and never get up again - you will be stinky and gross forever. Also, you think that if hell breaks loose and Jeonghan actually pukes you at least already used the shower. Back in college, he puked on the sink because it was the closest thing to the door, or whatever poor excuse he came up with, and that scene still haunts you, because somehow the sink was clogged. Ew, you think, finishing peeing and wiping yourself up. You wash your hands and say thank you for your past self because your necessaire is splayed on the counter, you pick up your face wash and head to the shower. Ok, let's deal with it. You need to wash your hair too. You open the register, letting the water hit your foot in an attempt to get just the perfect temperature.

You close and open the registers a few times - to fix the temperature, but you not gonna lie, to make up your mind too. But when you let the water hit your face - in an almost drowning attempt, you know you made the right decision, shower first was the only option. You let the water wash away for a few minutes until you are ready to really start your shower. First step - wash your face. Well, you needed to buy a new face wash this one was in its last few stages of life, you close your eyes and start to rub against your skin, normal, until you few something slightly different on your hand - almost like scratching the skin, you open your eyes and you finally notice, a band on your finger.

You turn your hand and it finally hits you.

It is a ring.

With a big rock.

In your ring finger.

A big damn rock on your ring finger.

“Yoon Jeonghan” you scream in horror.

On the other side of that door, Jeonghan just hears you scream. He actually picks himself up in record time and room towards the bathroom, oh shit did you just fall and hit your head? Did you break the glass of the fancy hotel shower? Are you dying? So without thinking much Jeonghan opens the bathroom door and he just finds you - completely naked and seemly okay, just staring at your own hand.

“What happened?” He asks trying to catch his own breath, maybe he does need to start working out man, he didn’t feel this horrible when he was hitting the gym after shifts, but also he didn’t feel that great either the whole gym rat thing was not his ordeal.

“What did we do?” You ask still in complete horror, not even thinking about how this is the first time Yoon Jeonghan, your friend is seeing you completely naked. 10/10 would not recommend this experience. Not even to Laurel, her satan spit roommate.

“What? Are you going crazy? I thought you fell and opened your skull or something,”

You just look at Jeonghan, dead in his eyes, like the reality is worse than falling in the bathroom, opening your skull and calling the paramedics naked. You just turn your hand to him - like it is enough to make him understand what a dire situation it is. And you swear to god you can almost see the little flakes of light on the bathroom floor, the rock is big enough to shine across the room.

“Did you call me to show me your ring? Couldn’t you wait until you put your clothes on?” Jeonghan asks leaning into the doorway.

“Jeonghan did we-” you say but you feel your own throat closing around itself, it can’t be right?

“Hm?” he asks without a blink of an eye.

“Oh we did, we totally did," you sighed, more to yourself than to Jeonghan.

“No, you are not that crazy,” he claimed. What is that even was supposed to mean? He was crazy enough for it but you the two goody shoes wasn’t?

“Jeonghan check your bank receipt,” you demanded, trying to connect the dots in a way, trying to find a physical proof, maybe you just bought a way too expensive ring for yourself, or maybe it was just impulse buying.

Before you can move Jeonghan almost runs towards the room, you try your best to keep up with him but you are a little behind because for the first time, you actually are aware of how naked you are. You pick up the fluffy bathroom robe - yeah the fancy hotel had its perks.

“Oh fuck” you can hear Jeonghan before you can see him, his phone it’s on his lap, his head is on his head - he is a man defeated.

“Did we?” You try to probe, but your voice sounds weird in your own ears - almost small, and the reality hits you, you are kinda scared. The reality of maybe having fucked up hits you like a trunk, you always been a nice girl, you never fucked up - at least not that bad, what would you mean if you married on a drunk whim?

“I think,” Jeonghan says, his hand on his greasy hair, fuck he needed a shower. “I think we fucked up real bad.”

You sit beside Jeonghan, you both staring at the wall ahead of you in disbelief. You are still gross, but now your damp hair is actually dropping on the bed and you can’t bring yourself to care. The fact that Jeonghan is motionless by your side without uttering a word is what freaks you out more. Jeonghan is not someone who is fazed so easily - his mouth is agape and his eyebrows furred, the ‘i-am-utterly-stressed’ Jeonghan feature is what freaks you out really.

“Ok Hannie,” you breathe softly. “That’s what we are going to do, I am going to shower, then you are going to shower, we gonna eat breakfast, then we are going to return this ring, then we are going to call Joshua, he is a lawyer, right? He probably will know what to do.”

“Joshua is a real estate lawyer,” Jeonghan mutters without blinking.

“Jeonghan focus!” You say getting out of bed, “divorce is a thing we don’t need to stay married.”

You take one of the longest showers in human history. You needed a good shower, but, the majority of the time under the shower you think about how the hell you got so drunk to marry Jeonghan. Some flashes of memory blink on the forefront of your mind every time you blink; a vegas chapel, not an Elvis but an Elton John in front of you, Jeonghan picking one of the most expensive ring in a fancy story. How the fuck fancy jewelry runs for twenty four hours?

Every flash comes with a sharp pain, the fucking headache.

When you get out of the bathroom the breakfast is already in the room. You take a bit of egg and toast just so you can shove coffee down your throat without having to deal with the stomach pain. You search the ring case and don’t find anywhere, maybe it is safe on Jeonghan’s thing, maybe he kept it safe, or you hope so. When you sit on the bed you stare down the ring, it is a beautiful ring and you are pretty sure it is something Jeonghan chose, it is beautiful, but at the same time, it is just too much.

You need to return it, no doubt about it.

You try to take the ring one and somehow it doesn’t even budge. You scoff, what a tricky little thing. So you try again, and again the thing doesn’t move. You can feel the drop in your blood pressure, what the heck? You lost track of the time when Jeonghan opened the bathroom door and you looked at him in shock, you look down at your red and bloated finger.

“This shit is stuck in my finger?” You say trying to take off one final time before just breaking your finger.

“Well, I think this is a good time to tell you,” he starts his voice all weird and over the place, “I kinda fucked up.”

“Jeonghan we are apparently married I already know we fucked everything up.”

“No, I-” Jeonghan begins, his hands now going through his washed hair, still wet and dripping on the floor, “I found a shred receipt and an invoice.”

“What the fuck?” You almost yell in pure knee-jerk reaction.

“I think it is yours now?” Jeonghan shrugs, like it is not a big deal even though you know that this ring is expensive, it must be, it has a giant rock and even though you know close to nothing about jewelry it looks expensive.

“What happened to us?” You question.

“You ask me? You don't remember anything?" Jeonghan says sincerely, and you know it is true. Jeonghan was kind of a prankster, he kinda did push people to its limit, but part of it was just doing fun things but also harmless shit. Like entering the beach at night, or hiding someone’s phone and pretending they did leave in the hotel so they can enjoy the trip without being bombarded by their special someone - read Seungcheol yesterday at lunch.

“Can we call Joshua?”

“I think we can do that later,” Jeonghan checks his watch, “I think it would be wiser just to show up to Seungcheol’s lunch and pretend that mini golf is fun, it would bring suspicious otherwise.”

“Jeonghan we married we didn’t commit a crime,” you say looking at him in disbelief.

“Do you want to deal with Seungcheol’s monologue about us getting married? I don’t think I want to deal with that with a killer hangover after a wedding walk of shame in fucking Las Vegas,” he drops. And God, that really sounds like a nightmare.

“Yeah,” you say looking at the big rock on your thing, “you are right, but we should probably still call Joshua,”

“I told you he is a real state lawyer didn’t I?” He says almost rudely to you, and you want to say that if you two are married both of you said yes it is not like you are the only one responsible for it but you try not to push his buttons.

“And what is your option Jeonghan?”

“I’m thinking about just getting drunk again so I can forget everything that is happening right now.”

What a fucking great idea.

Seungcheol is one of Jeonghan’s closest friends from college. Seungcheol just became your friend because you and Jeonghan were weirdly bound at the hip. You both shared your high school years, and when you two enrolled at the same university you only had two options, pretend you two didn’t know each other, or become conjoined twins. Jeonghan was a business major, you were enrolled in every class that had literature, poetry, or the name of a dead guy on it. But still, you and Seungcheol became great friends even though he is a finance guy. And Seungcheol was the reason you two were on a Vegas trip, the last trip of his life as an unmarried man, he had to make a sketchy deal with his fiancé in order to it to happen but still, according to him, it was worthy.

“Nice shot!” You hear Seungcheol's voice loud, bringing you back to reality. He is clapping as Seokmin - one of his other friends from work hits the ball down the hole.

Seungcheol’s voice, loud and clear, brings you back to reality.

Oh the joys of playing mini golf before lunch, you could spend days and days talking about how much you loved the idea and how every hole seems like a fucking nightmare but you are a married woman. Needless to say this whole situation wasn’t in your 2023 bingo card. You don’t pay attention when it is Jeonghan or Seungcheol’s turn, you wait until you have to put the ball in the hole, it probably takes you double the time, and then it starts again, ad infinitum. At least they are kind enough to not pressure you to perform like Tiger Woods or something.

You think about Jeonghan though. Somehow, he hasn’t changed. Jeonghan was the same Jeonghan you met in high school, of course, he matured and the years turned into baggage, but Jeonghan was still your friend who was playful enough to get married on a whim. Jeonghan was everything you weren’t in a way, somewhat playful and carefree, and still a very practical human being. Jeonghan was mischievous, but yet, not even once, he pushed you until you couldn’t take it, and that makes you think that somehow, with an unknown reason, in your drunk stupor, you wanted to marry Jeonghan, because hell can break loose, the skies can fall, but Jeonghan would never make you do something you did not want to do.

While Jeonghan and Seungcheol are busy hitting those tiny balls Seokmin stops by your side. You like Seokmin, Seokmin is kind, and you constantly think about how he is surviving the finance world, he doesn’t seem cut to it, but somehow he manages to stay alive against the monsters of capitalism, or, worse, he stays alive feed the monsters of capitalism. Ew. Seokmin’s face though seems focused on another thing, he looks in shock and happy at the same time, he probably did the whole hole in less than three shots you think.

“Oh my god,” He almost screams making you jolt in place, in all truth that was pretty much a common occurrence when your day to day involved Seokmin.

“Hm?” You question puzzled, looking at him trying to find a clue of something behind his feature when Jeonghan and Seungcheol finally join the two of you on the sideline.

“What is that?” Seokmin asks and you still without a fucking clue of what he is talking about. “Damn,” he says with his big smile across his face, making the tip of his nose get even more pronounced, “are you guys planning a surprise and I just ruined it?” His face changes in a blink of an eye.

“What surprise?” Jeonghan questions taking a drink of his gatorade like he was in the middle of an excruciating sport and not fucking mini golf after an unsafe amount of alcohol.

“That thing!” Seokmin cheered, and then it downs on you - the big ass ring on your hand, propped on the golf putter, and before you can hide it or chop your hand off the three man in your sight is eying the big damn rock that you forgot about,

“The what?” Seungcheol blurted.

“This is an engagement ring right?” Seokmin asks and you think about an ostrich, putting its head on the ground, you think you can do the same in one of the circuit's holes.

“No, it isn’t, how the hell they are engaged when they aren’t dating?” Seungcheol scoffs, acting like Seokmin is saying something that doesn't make sense, something that happened numerous times before, it could be happening again. It was happening again, at least to Seungcheol.

“We saw that one when we were looking for your fiancée present though,” Seokmin says all pouty and confused, and you think you almost try to defend his point of view as you always do, just because he is cute.

“It isn’t an engagement right?” Seungcheol asks

“It would be weird to be an engagement ring,” Jeonghan acknowledged the absurdity that envelopes the situation that you two are in, you want to try to take off the ring and just throw it across the field of mini golf, but a) it looked extra expensive, b) the three guys didn't even blink looking at your hand.

“Did you buy for aesthetic proposal?” Seokmin asks, "A girl that works with the human resources team did buy one just because she thought it was pretty."

“Of course,” Seungcheol claps, “I mean fashion was never your strong suit,” He says and it almost feels like a jab, “I almost brought that one, Jeonghan was dead set on this, saying it was the ring, but it was a bit on the expensive side”

“How expensive are we talking about?” You try to pry your body from reacting physically to the fact that Jeonghan shredded a fucking invoice and receipt, and the fact that even Seungcheol - the guy who buys twelves tumblers just because it was cute and ends up giving them away finds that expensive sets a new parameter of money waste.

“You didn’t check the price?" Seokmin asks, when you remain silent he continues, “Wow be you must be nice, balling and shit."

“How expensive are we talking about Seungcheol?” You try again, "Seokmin?" If you can’t return this damn thing at least you can try to sell it later. If you can’t find someone who can buy this you can sell for those weird and sketchy stores but you need to know how much you are actually losing on the deal, well, not you, Jeonghan but still, if you know the man he will just accept his fate and never move a muscle to deal with this ring situation.

“You really didn't check the price hun?” Seungcheol questions raising his eyebrow, like he always did when he couldn’t quite believe in you and it always made you feel angry with him. It was a tale almost, even when you were telling the truth he always raised that eyebrow questioning you, making you explain yourself.

“I brought the ring,” Jeonghan says nonchalantly like he is saying that he brought the bread on his way home. Jeonghan had this thing, a completely loath to let other people know his truest feelings. Even if he was one step away from a panic attack he would not tell you.

“Why would you do that?” Seungcheol asks again his voice is two tones higher, and you feel like he is questioning the two of you, and in his own mind he is the bad cop in the situation - Seungcheol liked that type of shit, and you think that maybe he is so into that because Jeonghan is his polar opposite, never giving Seungcheol a reaction.

“I told you I thought it was a beautiful ring man,” Jeonghan deadpans and take his fingers to move his bangs out of his eyes - making him look like a fucking prick, looking down at everyone else, and you know that just tickles something in Seungcheol. “What I am trying to say,” Jeonghan tries again, “is that the ring It is not an engagement ring because I didn’t ask her to marry me yet,” Jeonghan says walking by your side and enveloping your shoulder in an awkward hug. “I just confessed my feelings, it might be over the top a bit but you guys know I just had my eye on the ring.”

“Dude! Finally!” Seokmin says hugging Jeonghan, and you almost feel yourself choking on air.

When Jeonghan is free he whispers against your ear, his breath on your skin making you shrink, “Just bear with it.”

“What?” Seungcheol asks “Out of nowhere, you confessed your feelings? With an engagement ring?”

“Not an engagement ring Seungcheol we won't crash your wedding, relax,” Jeonghan says again, rolling his eyes.

“How much it was?” You try again dead set on finding out how much that was, apparently a new hyper-fixation.

“Babe,” Jeonghan says looking at you with a mischievous smile across his face, “it is not polite to talk about the price tag”

“What the hell I am watching right now?” Seungcheol bristled, more in anger than in frustration.

“It was long overdue really,” Seokmin gushed, in a terrible contrast to Seungcheol’s features, his voice is loud and his big smile stretches across his face, “I thought it was so fucking weird you two sharing a hotel room with the excuse of saving money, like we know Jeonghan has money,” Seokmin points to the ring, making your skin crawl.

“We are returning this,” you tell Jeonghan, your voice low while elbowing his ribs.

“Baby I told you,” Jeonghan appealed, grabbing your shoulder “We can’t do that”

“Like I personally found you guys always so weird like, I think I even asked Seungcheol if you guys were married in the past because you guys are really,” he moves his hands in a weird move in a way to mean how close you always had been, “like truly crazy and then I asked Seungcheol and he was like it is never gonna happen and I was like-"

And Seokmin goes on for about a good five minutes about how he thought the two of you were a couple, and in a way, you were so used to it that it didn't even startle you. The problem was that Seokmin truly believed Jeonghan’s lies, one thing was to think that you two were in a relationship - everyone had this basic reaction since the two were in college, even one of Jeonghan’s ex-girlfriend thought of, one of your coworkers too, Jeonghan’s door to door neighbors too, almost every single soul you two met. That alone was something you began to understand, yeah you and Jeonghan had a weird level of intimacy.

 If you mash together your college years you can sum up in - of course, we do not date, of course, you can go ahead and kiss him in this horrible pub, oh yeas I am living in his dorm at ungodly hours just because we decided to binge watch a docuseries, oh if I am wearing Jeonghan's clothes? Haha He saved my ass because I doped the coffee on my clothes - ps. The coffee didn't exist, and his girlfriend did break things up a week later, Jeonghan swore it wasn't because of you. Once one guy broke up with you because when he smelled you he could recognize Jeonghan's smell on you, Jeonghan toke as his duty to just fuck up with that guy's mind for a whole month. He told you over and over again that the guy was wrong and basically called you a cheater, so you might as well plant enough evidence to give them the mental image - Jeonghan planted underwear on said guy's returning box, a note with his own handwriting with meet me in secret at the library, and even brought you a small dog plushie to put in the box and when you asked why he said 'he will think another guy gave you a present'.

Knowing Jeonghan and the fact that he loved shocking people this whole act today didn't really shock you, in the end, you were the only that understand Jeonghan, because you would never ever fall for this weird ass act. Your default reaction to anything Jeonghan related was a fair amount of mistrust.

“What are you two doing?” Seungcheol asks again, his voice is laced with suspicion and mistrust.

“Doing what?” Jeonghan asks, his hand going to your hair and placing it behind your ear.

“Whatever you guys are doing,” Seungcheol says pointing his fingers at the both of you, and you think it is dumb to even pretend something to Seungcheol, he knows you, he knows Jeonghan he knows nothing like that would even happen and you still don't know why Jeonghan is even trying to lie to him. 

“Jeonghan-” you whine, marrying in Vegas is indeed something that brings you shame and regret but lying to your friends is even worse, how would you deal with that later?

You think you would prefer listening to Seungcheol’s monologue about how both of you are completely crazy, unreasonable, and unreliable, all of that rings true now. And it was Seungcheol, he would end up knowing somehow, even if you didn’t tell him now, you both would end up telling him. This whole scheme would fall like a house of cards somehow. You couldn't knock on Seungcheol door and say haha we were kidding, but Jeonghan could, you would make him do it.

“Seungcheol that’s actually-”

“What are we supposed to believe that after what? A decade you just woke up brought a ring and confessed your feelings?” Seungcheol asks, raising his voice enough to make you look around the damn mini golf to see if anyone is insane enough to care about this damn scene, “When you are a commitment phobe who has been on my ass for the past several months?”

“Look man, can you just drop it?” Jeonghan asks again - in the same aloof way he uses when he wants to piss you off, almost like he is flirting with the idea of being a patronizing prick. 

“Of course not, what the hell,” Seungcheol says, his tone still on the angrier side  “You didn’t even remotely tell us about this."

“Yeah well some people can actually keep secret,” Jeonghan says bitterly.

“What was that supposed to mean?” Seungcheol questions and just by the tone of his voice you know that shit is going down, you have seen countless fights between the two to know that Seungcheol was on the edge.

“It means that I can actually keep my individuality as a human being because I don’t have a crazy girlfriend who has trust issues so I need to overshare everyone’s personal life because she thinks you can cheat on her every monday to friday man,” Jeonghan quipped. He was not the one who loved to fight, Jeonghan was actually someone who would just shrug and resolve the situation later when it came back to bite his ass, but damn when he wanted to fight he was ready for it.

“Damn,” Seokmin breathed.

“What the fuck Jeonghan,” You and Seungcheol say at the same time, both in disbelief.

“It is the truth, isn't it?” Jeonghan chastised, “Dude you are traveling with friends and somehow the whole lunch was about how your girlfriend was pissed that you actually brought a ring to placate how angry she was."

“Jeonghan stop talking.” you plead, holding his arms trying to get his attention, to make him stop before things end up in a point of no return. 

“Why?” Jeonghan asks you this time, eyes focused on you and not Seungcheol.

“Because you are being a fucking asshole now,” you say “This is Seungcheol bachelor’s party the man is getting married,” you try again like Seungcheol is not in the room.

“Oh you think I don’t know about that?" He says exasperated, "We are in Vegas and this motherfucker drink one beer and told us to go to our own hotel yesterday so we needed to get drunk and-”

“Jeonghan,” you say again almost like a kid tugging Jeonghan's by his shirt sleeve.

“We are in fucking Vegas and we didn’t visit one strip club and we are playing mini golf that something off about this whole trip,” Jeonghan says loudly chuckling at his own words.

“Are you seriously right now? You are going on a tirade against your friend because he doesn’t take you to strip clubs?” It is your time to act in disbelief - strip club? Seriously?

“Maybe if we were at a strip club yesterday,” Jeonghan says eying you.

“You know what?” Seungcheol speaks up. “Fuck you, you are uninvited by the way, you go on and on about how you don’t think I should marry, well, then you don’t need to show up.”

You and Jeonghan are left side by side on the mini golf field. Standing there while the world still moving around. You want to break out in laughter, you want to just laugh at how the two of your friends seem to wake up on the wrong foot, you want to knock Jeonghan's head off his shoulder, but you end up just walking to return to the damn golf club. 

The whole way to the hotel you and Jeonghan spend in complete silence, not one uttering a single word.

And apparently - now you are the one that wants to start a fight out of nowhere. You are the one that wants to scream about how Jeonghan was being an unreasonable asshole. You try to wrap your head around his reasons, about why he would act like that and nothing that comes up in your own brain seems right.

So when you both are back in the hotel room - now with new sheets thank god, and less alcohol smell you just ask in the most nonsubtle way you can, you hold your own waist and ask like he was a teenager throwing a rude tantrum, “What was that?”

“What?” Jeonghan asks taking his time to take off his jewelry, watch the first thing, and later necklace, if he had any bracelet would be the third step of his routine.

“The whole Seungcheol marriage thing?”

“Well, you don’t have to deal with him drunk every Friday night telling you how overwhelmed and how he feels trapped since they set the wedding date,” Jeonghan says shrugging. 

“You told me he was going on and on about how great marriage is,” you say sitting on the bed, trying to understand all the things you apparently didn't know about Jeonghan and Seungcheol.

“Yeah, he has his own list of cons in his note app," Jeonghan huffs, "every time he thinks about calling it off, I think I just memorized it because he reads more than once a day”

“Fuck,” you say in a breath. In your own mind, Seungcheol not even once doubted his choice to get married, not even once seemed unsure of his decision.

“I was the one that said Vegas," Jeonghan says sitting on your side, both of you looking at the widow that faces a fucking parking lot, "I thought that he would get drunk enough to actually mess everything up because he can’t do sober, and by mess everything up I mean breaking up with his crazy girlfriend."

“Yeah, still, you didn’t need to be a fucking asshole,” you say seriously this time trying to face him.

“Well, I panicked ok?" Jeonghan finally breaks, "I wasn’t going to tell that man who is having a daily mental breakdown that we married in fucking Vegas.”

“I mean, I don't know about you but I think your friendship with Seungcheol is more important than being lectured because you married in Vegas, Hannie,” you tell him softly, patting his thigh.

“Well,” Jeonghan says, letting his hand on top of yours, “I guess I can't be gracious always,” he says with a sad smile.

“I know you are stressed out," You say calmly, "but you lashed out at Seungcheol and it wasn't great,”

“The fuck you are defending him for?” Jeonghan says standing up and pretending he is searching for something in that damn room.

“Are you serious?”

“What?" Jeonghan chuckles, "he can go on and on about how I am a commitment-phobe type of guy who is fucked up enough to not have a fiancée like him and it is all good and fun and games? But when I call out his fucking weird relationship I am the bad guy?”

“Jeonghan,” You try but before you can even finish he cuts you.

“No, don't Jeonghan me, the fuck,” he retorted, “you have the excuse of not knowing because I don't tell you, you could think I am an asshole and a horrible boyfriend because every time someone breaks up with me even though I am a great catch,” he laughs bitterly, “You can do that, Seungcheol can't do that, he doesn't have an excuse, he knows why.”

“I never ever think about you like that,” you say sincerely because it is the truth, never once have you thought about Jeonghan being afraid of commitment or being a shit asshole. You always thought about how every girlfriend of his always looked and sounded more in love with him than the other way around, but that wasn't exactly a character flaw.

“I know,” he says already sounding exhausted.

“No I don't think you do,” you say sternly, “like it never crossed my mind really, I always thought about how they were crazy for letting you go, so what you don't want to marry someone? the fuck you can still have a great life and a great relationship with someone without a ring, and I know you are capable of it," and to your own ears you sound almost bitter, how they could be so dumb? To have a chance to have Jeonghan and let him go? “You have always been there for me, you never once wavered, I have no reason to ever think of you in that light and I don't think Seungcheol is being fair, he wasn't, but he is getting married in three weeks Han.”

“Yeah and I am telling him his girlfriend has been a freak since week two when she threw a fit because she was jealous of you,” Jeonghan says shocking you, "because according to her own crazy brain, you are way too close to men so who knows what you will do when she turns her back."

“Of me?” You say pointing at yourself, “Damn, she is crazy."

“That’s what I am trying to tell him, and he isn't fuck listening I guess.”

The whole afternoon you think about Jeonghan.

You think about him when he is lying in the bed on his cellphone, and you continuously think about him when you find him napping in the same bed. You think about everything you don't know about your friend, and you think about everything he doesn’t share with you, that he chooses not to. And you know every single human has secrets, and there are things Jeonghan doesn't know about you too. But knowing that it is one thing, dealing with the emotions that come with it is another thing altogether. Why he would not tell you? Why he would tell Seungcheol?

Those questions live in your brain, rattling and making sounds every time they crash against your skull. You think about your friendship as well. Jeonghan was always there for you. He was there when you had your first heartbreak in the third year of high school, he was there when Mark broke up with you in college, and he was there every step of the way. He was there when you were sick, he was there when your favorite auntie died, he was there when you were panicking before your first job interview, he was there. You just couldn't wrap your mind around the fact that someone would call a man like that a commitment phobe or break up with him.

And what he said was true in some way, Jeonghan never broke up with anyone, he was always the one who was dumped and weirdly okay with it. Every time you talked about someone who didn't know Jeonghan you always painted him as the perfect guy, and it was true - he had a great job and his bank account was crazy even though he worked to the capital devil, he was someone who ha they shit together too, he helped his parent, he helped his friend, his house was never messy.

Every time you broke up with someone you talked about how you wanted a guy just like Jeonghan, nice and fun, but also low maintenance in a way, someone you could just comfortable be being with, without having to try too hard and do too much. And every time you met someone new, you always trusted Jeonghan's opinion, if he vetoed someone he had his reasons, like the weird guy that two months later was on the news because he emptied someone's bank account because they let their bank account info saved on the computer or something like that.

If you thought about it - really being married to Jeonghan was not even close to the worst thing that happened to you. Founding a dead rat once in the subway was worse, or that time when you found out that your roommate left the door open for weeks before you just never went to sleep before her just so you could make sure to close the door, and 95% of the time she didn't close the fucking door, that was worse than being married to Jeonghan.

“The fuck?” Jeonghan groans.

“What?”

“Apparently I messaged my account manager our marriage certificate asking if he could officialize the house-buying proposal, and apparently the bank green flaged it? The owner needs to accept the proposal of course, and it may take a while but-" Jeonghan stops halfway, almost like zooming out, staring at the wall ahead of him.

“I guess you are soon to be a house owner?” You question bringing Jeonghan back to reality.

“No, no-"

“Seriously if it is something that is helping you I don't mind, we can come back to Vegas a few weeks after the deal to annul it I looked up online it is not that hard we just need the documentation and the wedding certificate so," and it was true - you did research how to deal with the whole thing, it seemed easy, maybe that's why they actually let people marry crazy drunk, so they can pay to annul it and the city double the revenue, apparently crazy amount of drinking and casinos were not paying the bill.

“About that,” Jeonghan says, his hands tugging the sides of his hair.

“About what?” You ask.

"The wedding certificate,” he says, finally looking at you, his eyes big and still puffy because of his nap, “I think, I mean- I am pretty sure it is shredded with the receipt and invoice."

“What the fuck Jeonghan?” You shout, oh man, you are going to kill this man. The image is already on your head - jumping on that very same bed like a crazy woman and kicking him before you just kill him with your bare hands.

“I know,” he says almost in a grunt, laying down like a starfish.

“Why did you shred everything up for god's sake," you say almost stopping on the floor.

“I don't know okay?" Jeonghan says, sitting on the bed now, his cellphone forgotten, "Why did we marry? Can you answer that?”

“OOh," you huff, "We did get married, but I am soon to be a window if I don't kill in the next five minutes I swear to god”

“Wait, what changed if it is helping me?” Jeonghan says, back to his mischievous self, with a small smile across his face almost finding endearing the way that you try to threaten his life.

“You are making everything argh-” You are losing your damn mind and if you end up crazy it is Jeonghan's fault, now that he is indeed your husband has another tingle to you like a thriller movie, but you are afraid you are in your own Cameron Diaz Ashton Kutcher low budget 00's movie. Maybe you should take the whole thriller movie, it seems, weirdly, less weird. "First we cannot return this ring now I have to find someone who wants to buy it without documentation so everyone will think this shit is totally fake, I mean I would too, don't get me wrong I wouldn't trust myself either with this jewelry," you go off - almost missing the point, rambling really, before you get back to the point, "now we need to find a second copy of this certificate I swear to god we could just go to the nearest courtroom and annul the wedding I googled it." 

"I already told you you can keep the ring," Jeonghan says - voice low in contrast to your high-pitched complaints.

"Why would I keep this ring Jeonghan?" You question, it sounds weird in your own ears.

The truth is, you did love the ring, it is a beautiful ring but the truth is - you can't keep it. It shouldn't be yours to keep. It should go to someone Jeonghan wants to actually marry, even though you can't bring yourself to take it off your finger, even though you didn't even try to take it off after this morning.

And a breath almost gets locked in your throat. Why? You think, and deep down you know you have your answer but you just shove everything down when you hear Jeonghan's voice, "Well If you sell it I won't take the money."

"I can just pour it into my savings accounts," you say petulantly.

"The fuck," Jeonghan bites back.

"What? You said you didn't want it so I can keep the money," You try your best to sound even close to someone somewhat rational in this matter.

"It is a present you can't sell a present," Jeonghan though, never has a problem looking like he is saying the most rational thing ever even when it doesn't make any sense.

"I totally can," you bite back trying to hold your ground just out of pure spite. He didn't accept that cursed ring which is not even supposed to be yours why the hell he is making such a big deal of you selling or throwing it in the sea?

"You can't," Jeonghan says again, and you think back to your friendship and a lot of times it was like that - a lot of things without proper explanations.

"Why not?" So you just hold your ground - again, he will not win this one, this time he will have to explain.

"Because it is a present I picked up for you. I actually thought about it, I mean before drinking buying apparently, but I thought it would suit you" Jeonghan says, "Just don't sell, if you don't want to use it okay fine but just, just don't sell it, don't hurt a man's pride like that,"

You want to try again - to say you will sell this damn ring if you go to the store and it can't be returned, and you want to say you will throw it on the nearest river because Las Vegas is indeed very far from the sea. You want to push him until he says okay I take the damn ring and I will hold onto it and pass it through generations. But when Jeonghan speaks and he sounds so tired and so hurt you just give up and lock yourself in the bathroom pretending to take a shower before leaving this hellhole of a place.

You look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself how the hell everything happened in such a short amount of time. A marriage, a fight, a ring that makes you go crazy. Maybe you are closer to having a breakdown, maybe it is the time to face things that you are trying to keep hidden under the rug. You think that maybe it is time to just downpour everything.

But like always, you don't. You bottle everything up and pretend that everything is fine.

The last few days in Vegas have been less eventful, thanks God. Jeonghan and you go to weird restaurants and for a walk around the town, and you think about how you got married in the city of Sins.

At least it is fitting to think that pride and wrath have something to do with your own stay in this city.

You often think about Seungcheol, sending him and Seokmin a message or two, or a total of 15. Seokmin answers you, Seungcheol doesn't. And you need to hold yourself back when you type down a fuck you but don't send. You try to pry on Jeonghan's end too, but after the third time that he just doesn't answer you with words but just a cold stare you just let it go. Maybe that's why Seungcheol and Jeonghan have been friends for so long - pieces of the same cloth.

The flight back is not that tricky but at the same time when Jeonghan drops you out at your door, you are ready for a 30 minutes shower and drop dead for a whole week. When you open the door you are glad that your roommate at least remembered to close and lock the door. Character development you think, maybe she is getting better, maybe you don't need to actually move into Jeonghan's house as a safety precaution. But something doesn't seem quite right - there is a new sofa in the living room, which isn't exactly a problem, really, your sofa kinda sucked. But when you look again, you understand what is missing.

No, she didn't, she would not be that crazy. You refuse to believe that. You left all your luggage in the middle of the living room and ran to your bed, maybe she put the side table there, of course, maybe she just moved because the new sofa seems bigger. But there is nothing that resembles the side table in your room, so you try again - her room now, still nothing.

You send a message.

You try to call.

So you try the next best thing - call Jeonghan so he can calm you down. He doesn't pick up.  You sit on the floor, right beside your luggage, and you refuse to sit down on that sofa, it is pretty it seems comfortable but now is the object that you hate the most. You would prefer, I don't know, to take part in a scientific experiment that might fuck up your brain function than sit down on that thing.

The concept of time and space is a funny thing you think when you lose count of how many minutes or hours you have been staring at the door, it has been probably a long time. Until your roommate opens the door with a big guy by her side, great, all that you needed was an audience for your lash out.

"Oh," she says, big guy with his big hands on her hips and he knows he is not getting laid today, because he sees you and he gets so upright he seems like a fucking power pole, "I didn't know you would be back today."

"Laurel, darling, where is my side table?" You ask without beating around the bush.

"Oh right," she says letting her keys on the counter without fucking locking the door you have never been closer to a have a fucking stroke, you can feel your blood pressure rising, "the sofa was a bit bigger, you know I told you I was thinking about changing and this was on discount, but the table didn't really had a place in the room anymore so I put on marketplace a cute girl come up to pick in the same day, great right?"

You blink once, twice, and the words don't even come, you are so astonished that you are left speechless. Maybe you could get over the unsaid desire of getting murdered by a serial killer, and maybe you could get over the leftover food on the counter, and you could even get over the whole singing in the shower when you are fucking tone-deaf really.

But that. That was one thing you could never get over.

"Are you fucking insane? Are you fucking crazy?" You ask, the big guy taking a step back, "Or do you just have fun being the most self-centered bitch in this part of the country?"

"What the fuck?" She says, and oh god, you want to jump on her bones, you want to leave this woman bald.

"Did you ask Laurel?" You ask again, remaining sitting on the floor because if you pick yourself up you are probably no longer be a first-time offender. "Did you ever think about asking if you could sell, give or even create a fucking bonfire with the wood of my deceased auntie's side table? Did you fucking asked?"

"Oh I didn't know," she says simply. You feel the tears streaming down your face and you don't actually know if it is because of sadness or anger.

"So funny Laurel because I don't even fucking know how you function like a human being because your brain is so fucking empty of common sense really," you bristled, finally getting up and picking up your big backup, "Look I don't know how I don't care really, it is up to you, but you get my table back in perfect state, and you will pay this month rent fully because I am not living with you I would prefer Satan as my roommate really, and you may as well find another roommate because I will not move a muscle to put someone inside this apartment," You say moving past Laurel and the crazy big guy, "and by the way Laurel? I would fucking lock the door today you don't really think about how many insane people leave in this world."

You say finally get out of the apartment.

You don't really stop walking because you are afraid you will just fall on the ground, crying in the middle of the street in the fetal position, not really a pretty picture. You know Jeonghan's house is not really far, a twenty minute walk. You wish you had an epiphany when you see yourself at his door, a moment to say 'wow why am I here?'. But you know yourself enough to know why, you know Jeonghan enough to know why you are at his door.

You know Jeonghan will open the door for you, and you hope deep down that he will hunt Laurel-the-sattan-spit-roommate down.

When Jeonghan opens the door, he looks puzzled, his face shows that he is trying to understand what is happening. You are sure he was ready to say that he didn't order something and to check on his neighbor.

"What happened?" Jeonghan asks when he sees you on his door instead of a lost delivery guy.

"Laurel," you say, and before having the chance to say anything else, you already feel the pain, you don't want to cry but you end up doing that nonetheless. You even hiccup once or twice before you feel Jeonghan's arms against you, enveloping you, making you feel safe.

"What did she do?" Jeonghan tries again, one of his hands still around you, while the other cradles your head, his hand softly stroking your head.

"She sold my side table," you say, still hiccuping your way through the sentence and you feel so fucking dumb, crying in Jeonghan's arms, and you feel Jeonghan's body goes completely rigid before he holds your face in his hands and you almost flinch because you cannot face that man in this state, and second, his hands are cold.

"She sold your side table?" He asks and you just nod, it is the only thing you can do, "The side table?" He tries again just to receive the same reaction, his hands wrap around you, but this time he hugs you tighter, your head smashed against his chest and somehow you find a resemblance of comfort.

Jeonghan takes you to the kitchen, and when you feel his arms release you, you just sink to the ground, your back to the cabinets. Jeonghan hands you a cup of water, and hugs you again, his hands rubbing your back like you are some kind of a toddler, and that alone makes you sniff even more. That motion alone takes you back to your college days when you went back home to your auntie's funeral - Jeonghan drove the whole way, and the only sound inside the car was you crying. Back then you didn't know that Jeonghan lost an important exam so he could drive you back home, later when he was pilled with an ungodly amount of work and told you he needed to do an extra project so he didn't fluke his class you cried all over again - part of it because you felt guilty, part of it was because it was Jeonghan, and you could count on him for anything.

And here he was, years later taking care of you again. You never doubt he would, that alone - the certainty that Jeonghan is in your life should scare you, but it never did. Not now, and not even back in college when Seungcheol joked about every time a new girl showed up alongside Jeonghan. Somehow you knew that Jeonghan would be there if you needed him, if you ever shouted that man would run leaps. The thing was, Jeonghan never told you anything remotely close to make you believe that, he never promised you anything, but Jeonghan actions always reassured you that no matter what, he would be there if you needed him the most.

You think about it how - weirdly - you were never in that position, how you never once was that person to Jeonghan, the person that reassure Jeonghan or be someone he could lean on. There is a deep down desire that you don't quite acknowledge over the years - that you want to be someone important to Jeonghan. Someone as important as Jeonghan is to you.

When you feel you can finally breathe you get out of Jeonghan's hold to go to the bathroom, in a way searching a way to escape your own feelings and thoughts, pretending you just need to wash your face. When you return to the kitchen, Jeonghan is in the same place, sitting on the floor staring at his own hands. Now, calmer, you take the whole scene of the kitchen; the single glass of wine on the counter, the open bottle, Jeonghan's cellphone, and his notebook.

“Were you drinking?” You ask after a while, sitting on his sides and copying his positions - legs stretched and back flushed against the cabinets. The hiccups are still there but they’re less frequent now, and you can finally breathe on your own.

“Yeah I was,” Jeonghan says, stretching his legs and looking at his feet cladded with old socks.

Jeonghan thinks about the minutes before you arrived, how he was just scrolling on his phone and drinking alone because his mood was so dreadful that he didn't want to make anyone suffer in his company. The only person he would subject to a vent session was Seungcheol, so drinking alone was the only answer. The truth is plain and simple really - Jeonghan has been feeling miserable for quite some time now, mainly because even though it pays extremely well his job sucks. He works for and with shitty people, but it pays well, so that should be enough - why it isn't? But all of that seems so fucking small against the feeling of you losing the last physical thing of someone you loved, someone who was so important to you.

“Why were you drinking alone Jeonghan?” You ask, giving his thigh little taps but still looking ahead - you see yourself in the mirror, you are so swollen you can't face the man like that.

“I,” Jeonghan ponders, thinking about if it is the right time to just go on a tangent about how he works sucks, how his best friend isn't talking to him, and how he wants to go back to his high schooler self and just start everything over, even if he fucks everything over is way better than this gray area that he is stuck on. “We can talk about me another time,”

“Just," You breathe deeply, your head almost knocking against the counter door, "do it for me then,” you tell him softly, almost pleading, “tell me so I can take my mind off this shit.”

“I think,” Jeonghan says, “no, scratch that,” he laughs dryly, “I am sure that I am fucking miserable,” he looks at you waiting for your reaction, “and I’ve been miserable for a while, I just fucking hate everything,”

“Han-” you try to say, and you almost feel like you don't have tears anymore, but if you could physically cry you would.

“I am not depressed, don’t worry, I just,” he trails off, “I hate that fucking job and if I have to spend another year there I would probably kill a rich guy, I have a few investments, and I have savings, and I-”

“You should buy the house,” You blurt out, remembering Jeonghan's eyes looking at the pictures of the house.

“What?” Jeonghan says almost choking on nothing.

“You should buy the house, just give me one room and I will pay rent, we can share utilities and food, and then you can quit,” you declared like it was something people just do on a whim, like you are not even having a stroke just thinking about the process of ending your lease contract, but the sky can open you are not sharing another day in that apartment.

“Not a great deal when I have a fucking loan on my name,” Jeonghan bemused, almost laughing at your non-sense.

“Just don’t tell the bank,” you shrug.

“Well,” Jeonghan says, almost like he is trying to assess the situation, see how everything could plan out from different angles.

“Come on, tell me,” You say finally caving into your curiosity, poking Jeonghan with your elbow.

“Tell you what?” Jeonghan asks but you can feel the playful tone in his voice, almost a childlike wonder of being caught doing something he shouldn't do.

“What is the plan?” You whisper - you don't know why but this whole thing seems like a secret, like something Jeonghan doesn't want to see the light of day yet, something he has been keeping under wraps.

“What plan?”

“I know you Jeonghan," You say finally looking at him, a small smile still stretched across his face, "I have known you for quite a while, come on, don’t underestimate me,”

“What are you talking about?” Jeonghan says playing the fool but the smile is still there, making you probe a little bit more.

“I know you, you would never think about quitting without a black plan besides having a few savings and weird investments, tell me,” You almost pleaded, turning your body to him, your hands on his thighs supporting your own weight on him. And you know you need to bring out the big guns - the begging eyes, almost laughing at yourself.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan laughs at you, his head tilting back and all, like you are the most amusing creature ever.

“Come on,” you urge, using your hands on his leg to almost shake him.

“It is not a plan, it is a desire,” he begins, “I’m thinking about sitting down and doing a few design classes, it can be online but,”

“No-” You say surprised, your smile big across your face because you know where this is going.

“Maybe,” he says still leaning on the counter, eyes closed and that infuriating smile still on.

“You can totally do it,” you tell him almost jumping on your place.

“It is not a plan yet,” he explains, in a vain attempt to make you tone down your excitement, but every time he looks at you he thinks he can give you that, soothe your pain with his dreams and hopes that won't really get out of paper. At least today he can do that for you.

“I can help you,” you say, finally changing positions and sitting almost by his feet, facing him, Jeonghan's hand on your ankle.

“How can you help me?” He asks you, squeezing your ankle and you pretend you are going to kick him, but he just holds your ankle and puts it on his lap.

“We can do it,” you say completely seriously because you truly believe he can do it, achieving his teenage dream job. “You know me, I am an army general, I have discipline, and I love a good worksheet, I am an editor,"

“What you being an editor has to do with it?” Jeonghan says while he tickles your feet, making you almost jerk.

"Stop that," you say using your other to nudge him, "I did a few children's books mind you,” you say, using your free hand to pinch Jeonghan's feet in the form of a threat, “I know how to promote things, I know how to deal with due dates and with manufacturers, you just need to sit down after lunch watch your boring ass class like a college student and hand your resignation letter,”

“It is not something that will actually work and be profitable,” Jeonghan huffs.

“Jeonghan, be honest with me,” you say, this time in a more serious tone.

“Okay,” He says, hands leaving your feet and closing together on his stomach.

“Would you ever take that leap with you couldn’t live till 90 years old with the money you have on the back?” You joke, breaking him in half, his laughter resonating in the kitchen.

“No?” He jokes back.

“We are doing it,” you say like his opinion in his own laugh and plans don't actually matter that much, but Jeonghan just smiles back at you - sometimes, he thinks about how you are the only one who can actually match his insanity, the only one that goes with his plan, or come up with even weird ones.

And Jeonghan knows he is fucked, because every time he thinks he can’t love you more you show him that love grows and expands beyond borders. Lately, Jeonghan favorite song is My Love Mine All Mine, and when he looks at you, in his kitchen, face still swollen and red from crying Mitski sings in his ear - Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love, mine, all mine Nothing in the world is mine for free But my love, mine, all mine, all mine. It resonates with him, the fact that his love for you is his to carry. And this alone makes Jeonghan happy in a weird way, because he knows how much love you deserve, and he is happy that he is the one that loves you, and he loves you for free.

Even though Jeonghan knows you don’t love him like he does love you he thinks about how you are the only person that is always there for him. Everyone that he knows would make Jeonghan just let it go. Why the fuck he would build a business around children’s toys? Why would he resign and leave a great career that gives enough money and intel to just go around and draw a few rabbits and frogs on a page? Just because of joy? Jeonghan always knew that joy alone could not make you survive on this earth.

But yet you were doing just that. Telling him to drop everything and just try to be happy. Right now Jeonghan could drop on his knee and ask you to marry him if you weren’t legally married and if he wasn’t a fucking coward. Sometimes he hates himself for that, the way he holds onto something he knows it is not quite enough but it is the only thing he can have.

Jeonghan thinks about- everything really, but mostly how joyful you are in your own way. How you would buy sweet treats just for the sake of it, how you had every single first copy of the books you worked on even if they were beaten in the process and almost unreadable. He thinks about the first time you showed up on his door, a big book in hands and a smile across your face, buzzing full of pride because it was your first fucking book and your boss give you one in the very first batch - back then you were just the one that did the toughest job, reviewing everything.

Jeonghan knows he loves you, he knows for quite a while.

Jeonghan knew before the first girlfriend dumped him because he was jealous of you. When his third girlfriend asked him if he liked you he couldn’t even lie, when his fifth girlfriend broke up and for the fifth time, the reason was you he just stopped trying dates altogether.

Jeonghan doesn't remember much of the marriage itself, he remembers bits and pieces of an Elton John in a 70's costume and how the chapel was way hotter, making Jeonghan's armpits wet, not a great look for a groom. But he remembers everything before that - in a less hazed lens. He remembers telling you in the hotel bar how he loved you for quite a while now, and how you looked so shocked - telling him he should quit lying. He swore on his first dog's grave, weirdly that made you believe him. He told you how he hated Mark - your college boyfriend that literature guy who gave you poems that you still keep as presents, he remembers you saying how you would keep every post-it note if Jeonghan wrote them in the future. It was a promise, you said holding your pinkie finger out for him. He remembers buying you the ring, you outside the store because he knew you would think that the chosen ring was too much, too big, too expensive, any ring will do it you told him before letting him inside, but he couldn't do it, he could only choose the prettiest ring for the prettiest girl. 

Jeonghan remembers his vow, promising he would take care of you, that he would write love letters for the rest of his life on every special date because you hated presents. And Jeonghan remembers how you two kissed in the chapel, on the uber back to the hotel, in the hotel room - more than you should have, because now it is the only thing he can think about it and you don't fuck remember. Jeonghan thought about running, about changing cities and even country - investments were pretty much the same everywhere in the world really. But the reality was that even if he moved, his love was still his to keep, and he would do that heartedly. He was a coward, but he still had his pride, and if that was the price to pay, then, be It.

“Hey, come here,” He says, finally lifting himself off the ground.

“What?” You ask, looking at him still sitting on the floor.

“Come here,” He says again, giving his hands so you can get up.

“What? You are weird what is going on,” you say finally getting up on your feet.

“Come here,” Jeonghan says and before you approach him his arms are already by your side, enveloping you in a thigh hug. “Thank you,” he says softly, “thank you for everything really,”

“Are you drunk Yoon Jeonghan?” you ask, your own voice muffled by the tight embrace.

“No,” Jeonghan laughs, and you can feel his whole body move, “I’m serious, thank you for being there for me even when you have shit on your own to deal with,” He says, his chin on top of your head, “and thank you for not thinking I am a commitment phobic asshole.”

“You are still on that? I told you I never saw you like that stop being dumb."

“I know, I am just-” Jeonghan doesn't finish his sentence, his arms still around you, his heart beating by your ear.

“Look you are drunk, at least there is nothing much we can fuck up being drunk together after getting married in Vegas," you say and Jeonghan feels a pang, almost like when he stubs his little finger on the corner of random furniture, but he doesn't say anything, "give me a sip of your wine you asshole,” you say getting free of his embrace and holding the bottle of wine

“Come on! Don’t drink it straight from the bottle, there is a glass right there!” Jeonghan protested.

“Come on Yoon Jeonghan, I know you, I know you since you didn’t have enough cups in your first kitchen, don't play the proper guy with me,” you say like basic manners don't exist, and sitting on his counter.

“I grow up I am an adult now,” Jeonghan says, but he doesn't really move a muscle to pick another glass of wine for you, he thinks it is his biggest flaw - the fact that you can walk over him countless times and Yoon Jeonghan will just let you do whatever you want even if he pretends that it is against his will.

“Oh, totally,” You look at him, and even though the phrase itself has a bite to it your voice is honest, “Not to go back to sappy times, but you really did Hannie, you are really growing so much, and I am so proud of you,”

"Shhhh-” Jeonghan murmurs trying to shut you up and you know it is mainly because he is so fucking shy that you almost laugh.

“By the way,” You say taking another sip from the bottle. “I’m so moving in with you and I can even deal with only one room if you don’t sell any of my stuff.”

“Shut up,” Jeonghan says kissing the top of your head, “you can have the whole house, just don’t set it on fire.”

Ultimately, that actually happens.

You actually move with Jeonghan into his dream house. The house is 98% bare, without the furniture of the last owner besides the utilities. But a) it is better than living with your satan-spit roommate, b) Jeonghan has been sleeping on his own couch for over two weeks now because even though you say it is okay you can't spend that time in your own apartment he refuses to let you near Laurel.

But somehow, Jeonghan and you make a home out of the new house. You take the bookshelves on the left, all the books you edited in your lifetime on a special shelf right in your point of view. Jeonghan takes the bookshelves on the right, a lot of the books you edited and gifted him are scattered across it because he doesn’t really care about arranging his shelves in a particular order.

Every time Jeonghan sees a nice piece of furniture he sends you a picture of it, and you two chat about if it fits the room, and the colors would clash. In a weird way your collection of cups and mugs triples the size, indeed you are engrossed with buying new ones, but the thing is - you always pick two of them now. Jeonghan’s favorite is a weird bunny mug that you never actually use because it ears always make drinking anything impractical.

You two also build a weirdly oiled routine. You two eat breakfast together, Jeonghan wakes up early and when he is just arriving for his morning run you are already scrabbling eggs. When Jeonghan is ready for work you are ready for your own run. When Jeonghan arrives from work you still have one hour to go, so in the end he is the one to always cook dinner. After you two share the dishes and eat something sweet as the dessert the kitchen counter - previously used as a dinner table, now acts an officer table.

While Jeonghan looks up some designer classes, you search manufacturers. When he draws a cute rabbit girl that he named Ttoram, you try to understand how a business works, how you file taxes for it? Sometimes Jeonghan does the dirty work himself after he finishes a new version so you get your pink glittery pen and write in post-it what you think about the new product; ‘what is this material arrow-drawing pointing to a specific part of a squish toy’, ‘her head seems big are you sure she won't flop head first in someone’s bed?’, ‘are you sure? I think lamps are quite expensive.

The house gets filled with new art supplies, sometimes Jeonghan orders a bunch of them online, and sometimes you are the one that brings back a single pen or a new colored pencil that you pick up in arts stories every time you go to a meeting. The house is filled with paper and drawings, your favorite ones is always the first drafts - the ones that Jeonghan does on the non-quality paper, the ones that he does on pieces of paper, the ones that look less refined and to you are filled with children-like joy.

Another curious thing is how somehow you and Jeonghan seemed very addicted to post-it. Besides the practical use in the drawing drafts because Jeonghan was an old soul who couldn’t do his work on an Ipad like a normal human being in this day and age, you also used to communicate - ‘please buy eggs!’ you wrote and left on the kitchen door, ‘already set a reminder on my phone so i don’t forget to stop at the market!’ jeonghan replied. “Didn’t see u before I left :( don’t forget to take breaks” he wrote, somehow the post-it ended up in your office, and you glued it on the computer screen beside one green post-it with a frog with a raincoat on.

Every time the fridge was out of space for new ones you took them off one by one, with a smile on your face, and kept them in a box, safely stored. You always noticed one or two missing but you always thought the wind knocked them out and Jeonghan, that traitor, threw them in the garbage. In short, everything stayed the same with a daily dose of domestic life. The problem was - that it didn’t stay the same for very long.

And as hard as it was to admit, it was your fault.

There was no way around it.

It weirdly began every time you saw Jeonghan around the stove. The fact that Jeonghan was beautiful-handsome-pretty was not news to you. You, and every human being that laid eyes on him, always reached the point where you acknowledged how pretty Jeonghan was. In college it was a fucking nightmare, guys and girls banging on his dorm room when you two were watching a movie just because they thought Jeonghan was alone - the fact that he didn’t have a roommate because he bribed someone (one of the most Jeonghan acts that you ever witnessed, but that was beside the point - really) only added to the fact that 87% of his course thought he was down to bang anytime. The truth was that you always knew that Jeonghan was someone objectively good-looking, but there was a catch, even though Jeonghan was beautiful you didn’t really feel attracted to him and he knew that. Countless times you told him he was too pretty for his own good along with the lines that he wasn’t your type, ‘what the fuck that supposed to mean’ he answered the first time you said that, back in high school. With time it turned out to be your standard answer to every girl that was attracted to him and wanted a shot with him but somehow thought he was your boyfriend.

You know that Jeonghan is good-looking, and you know that for fucking years so why are you going a little insane every time you get in the kitchen and the man is cutting some onions? Truly it happens in the weirdest hours, out of nowhere, your brain reminds you how hot Jeonghan is - and that is even scarier because you knew that the man was handsome, but hot? That’s a new development. Once he arrived from his morning run, his hair a little damp, sweat dripping down his neck, and only with a thigh shirt because he already removed his go-to wind-breaker and you almost collapsed on the kitchen floor. That alone was mind-blowing.

The horrors begin when you just couldn’t deal with his touch without your mind going to the fucking gutter. When he touched your hips to make your move because he wanted to open a drawer, or when he dropped down on the sofa without leaving space between your bodies, his hand tapping your thigh. Out of nowhere, you are combusting because his hand feels hot against your skin, goosebumps appearing across your skin Jeonghan asks you if you are cold. And the fact that Jeonghan is touching you isn't necessarily super weird, he always did that, but somehow you feel that his touches changed and you can't quite pinpoint how besides the fact that you are reacting differently.

It doesn't really help your case that Jeonghan develops a weird habit of wrapping his arm around your neck. It happens everywhere, even in public and every time you can feel yourself grow a little hotter. You were supposed to pay attention to Minghao’s new paintings, a designer slash illustrator slash painter whom you worked with for a few book covers, and somehow in the middle of the opening of his new exposition, you can’t even think about the impasto on his oil paintings because Jeonghan hands feels heavy on your neck, his fingers touching the lateral of it almost rubbing. Every time you take a step to try to see the paintings up close Jeonghan doesn’t let you leave his hold, his body close enough to be pressed against your back, half of your back feeling hot because of his presence, half of it feeling cold because of his absence.

“Hao!” You say when you finally see the man of the hour, black hair on black coats, his hands behind his back looking around all the people that came just to appreciate his work.

“Hey,” He says opening his arms for you.

“Congratulations,” you say feeling the arms of Minghao around your back, your body though prefer to pay attention to the weight of Jeonghan’s eyes on you, “everything is mind blowing,” you say to the man - his hands still on your body, yours on his shoulder, until you hear Jeonghan clearing his throat in order to get you to notice his existence, and you almost laugh, “Hao this is Jeonghan, Jeonghan this is Minghao.”

“Great job man,” Jeonghan says in a weird tone, giving Minghao two little pats on the back and taking a step by your side, his hand on your waist.

“Thank you,” Minghao says politely, like he always does, “It is a pleasure to meet you, you are in the book industry too?” Minghao asks with his hands in his pocket,

“No,” Jeonghan almost scoffs, him? and books? God forbid, “I work with investment these type of things,”

“Oh, so you are not in the art business then,” Minghao acknowledges and you know his interest peaked even though you don't know why, maybe because you know Jeonghan so well you don't have much to unfold, while Minghao just seems weirded out by the fact that you have a Wall Street dude by your side.

“Oh Hao you always flatter me when you include me in the art business,” you say jokingly, reminiscing one of the many conversations you had with Minghao over a bottle of wine.

“I told you," a sly smile across his face, "books are a matter of passion.”

“You did,” you say somewhat reminiscing of the talk you two had back then. It was after calling him up for his second cover, after a meeting where he made you go through the book's motifs and ideas so he could have a feeling of what he should focus on.

“You should come to the after party,” Minghao says, “we could catch up,”

“Yeah I don’t think we can,” Jeonghan says while he checks his watch, he knows the question wasn't directed to him, he isn't stupid and he has two eyes, but he also is a stubborn motherfucker and now he just wants to ruin Minghao's night, and he is not about to Banksy this place up with shredded art pieces - because he is afraid his bank account can't take the lawsuit. “I have a work meeting tomorrow morning” Jeonghan reminds you, his fingers still on your waist.

“Still,” Minghao says, looking puzzled by you two, “you can stay right?”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” you say sorry “Han is driving us back so-”

“Is your phone number still the same?” Minghao asks without dropping a beat, and Jeonghan can give him that, he doesn't know Minghao but the guy just doesn't quit - he knows a stubborn guy when he sees one.

“Yeah, I didn’t change, but if you need you can e-mail me and-” You say before someone calls Minghao, it is his opening after all, a guy in the suit makes a gesture to him when the three of you look to see who was the owner of the voice.

“Sorry, I have to go, but I will call you," He says before giving you a kiss on the cheeks and walking to the guy who just called him.

Jeonghan snorts, really, what was that? He shouldn't find it so funny but it is. He takes a step back, his hands leaving you, while he looks at the painting. You know he is just pretending to analyze everything.

“What?” You ask him - missing his hand on your waist, on your neck, missing his presence around you.

“Nothing,” he says shaking his head, he is biting back a smile - laughter really, and you want to know what it is so funny, you are curious about what is going on in his head.

“It can’t be nothing come on,” you press on, your hand on his shoulder in a way to get some sort of touch from him, to regain some sort of proximity.

“Just-” Jeonghan stops, in front of another painting, his hand going back to your waist, and at the same time you think you can finally breathe again, your breath feels trapped in your throat, making you swallow on nothing, “You didn’t tell me it was an opening night to your ex-fling," he says. Eyes almost tinkling under the light and you know where this is going.

“Hao isn’t my ex fling what are you talking about?” You pretend, trying to get out of this situation because you know somehow Jeonghan will pry on, and he knows how to push your buttons enough just so you can spill everything he wants to know.

“Not fling then," Jeonghan says, hand still on your waist when he starts walking around the gallery with you by his side, until another painting that he really doesn't really care about, "an one night stand.”

“He is a friend," almost rolling your eyes at him, "I told you, I know him because of work,”

“So you are telling me you guys didn’t fuck?” And even though his words my seem harsh his tone is still light - he was truly a jerk but why are you smiling at him?

“Jeonghan, what the fuck?” You yelped, making Jeonghan's sly smile appear again.

“What?” He asks eyes still on you when you pretend to pay attention to the orange painting in front of you.

“Keep your voice low,” you mouthed, “we didn’t fuck,” you tell him again, and it was the truth, but somehow Jeonghan knew how to read between your words.

“Well,” he began, still looking at you even when he tilted his head to the side, a sly smile still on his face like he could see through you like you couldn't keep anything under wraps, and you could feel the goosebumps on the nape of your neck, your whole body tingling, “I am pretty sure it wasn’t for lacking trying on his part.”

“It would be too messy,” you finally blurt it out.

“Ah of course," Jeonghan laughs again and it almost sounds bitter to you, "so he did try, it was after or before saying the book and passion line?”

“After,” you say, your time to laugh, even though you feel the heat on your skin, a crazy addition to new feels because you are not one to actually feel shy around Jeonghan.

“And you laid him down too gently,” he acknowledges, eyes moving through the room again. You follow his gaze, seeing Minghao watching the both of you across the room, you just greet him with a smile.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask him, pressing your body on his sides until his arms are back on you.

“Well," Jeonghan breathes, his eyes still rummaging around the room, "I know you can break a guy's heart but apparently you lost your touch with that one because he is still down to fuck.”

“Jeonghan!” You gasped, “No he isn’t you are seeing things like you always do.” You tell him, Jeonghan had this weird superpower that he tuned in college - he could tell a guy was somehow interested in you from miles away, the first few times you actually made a bet on it; fifteen dollars, to pay him for a meal, to go with him to a frat party that his friend Soonyoung was hosting. After the fifth time, you just learned that was better to trust his judgment on it.

“Oh yeah, it truly takes a mind reader to see a guy ogling you across the room and telling you to show up at the after party even tho you have a guy on your arm," Jeonghan almost scoffs, then he leans down, his mouth close to your ear, "truly, his intention was indeed to talk about the impasto or the lighting or the shadow of his hard-on,”

“Jeonghan” you accuse again slapping his arm playfully, laughing at his antics “If I trusted you my ego would be in the clouds because every walking human being apparently wants to fuck me according to you.”

“Not everyone but a great part of it, sure." He deadpans.

“Sure, apparently you are the only exception who else?”

“I’m not,” Jeonghan deadpans again, just shrugging. Because it is not actually something he tried to hide over the years, it is nothing something that he is ashamed of either. And he is pretty sure it is something you already know since college so he doesn't have to lie about it. Jeonghan might be a coward, but he isn't really a liar.

“What?”

“I tried to get in your pants my whole high school years," He says, his eyes still on the painting, or everything that catches his attention, his eyes are everywhere really but on you. "I just gave up after the few first months of college”

“What the hell?” You try again. Everything feels kind of abnormal in your head. The way that Jeonghan says those words - like he is saying that you two should buy soap the next time you both go do groceries, it freaks you out. How can he be so normal about all of that?

And how could you be so clueless? Everything shifts in your brain - like the earth just changed its axes. He never told you anything closer to this, you are sure of it. You never suspected that Jeonghan liked you back then, or scratch that, that he tried to get in your pants. It seems something so unreal that you are having a hard time wrapping your mind around it - around the idea of a teenager and younger Jeonghan wanting something from you that you never really saw happening.

“What the hell what?” Jeonghan stopped dead on his track, finally looking at you, “You didn’t know that?”

“Of course not,” you say exasperated.

“Oh, I thought you were laying me down gently too,” he added, in the most neutral tone possible, making your head spin a little.

“No, I had no idea,” and it is true. You remember everyone from college who thought you and Jeonghan were a couple back then, everyone who found it weird when you two answered that you were just friends. You remember Seokmin, and you think about Seungcheol's words in Vegas and everything is hazed, a little out of focus. “Why did you give up tho?” You ask him.

“I just,” he says still looking forward and avoiding your eyes like the plague, “I mean, besides the fact that you got into he is not my type phase I would never kiss that man, the fact that I tried for four years and it didn’t happen led me to believe that never would, so...”

“I needed to make clear to every girl that was falling and tripping over you that I was not your girlfriend, they were pretty sure we were high school sweethearts back then”

“I think everyone we know somehow ends up thinking we are in a relationship,” he says, “I mean, clearly not goth impasto guy because that would be crazy, hitting on a woman with her husband on her side but”

“You need to pick up your husband's game,” you say kidding, while walking around the gallery with him, “I was indeed mistaken to be a single woman today.”

“I should have bought a bigger ring,” Jeonghan groaned, making you laugh, weirdly you still have the big ring on your finger.

“That’s not the answer,” you groaned because the man truly had this weird obsession with this ring and big rocks. You could tell him over and over again how you didn’t care about the ring or the rocks and he still found a way to make sure you were wearing the ring.

“And what is? If I try to be more territorial within the touch department we would be in jail for public indecency,” Jeonghan says low on your ear, his voice mischievously, while his hand presses on your hips, “Should we just go to jail?” Jeonghan asks, his hands trying to go lower heading towards your butt.

“Jeonghan, don’t test me,” you say seriously, your hand holding his and bringing up on your body. Why the fuck didn’t Jeonghan behave like a proper human being? Why your heart is racing against your ribcage? Why you are enjoying this whole thing?

The whole night you can feel Jeonghan’s hand on you in some way, or on your lower back, your neck, fingers on your shoulder, making his presence known somehow. And every time you think you are starting to understand what happened - what Jeonghan said, what that meant, he touches you again and everything gets a bit hazed, taking you to the start again.  Should you read into everything that he said to you? Would you be able to deal with it?

Those questions are still going around your brain in the car back home. Home, that alone was something that didn't make sense either. The air in the car is so thick that you think you can't breathe, the fact that Jeonghan's hand is splayed against your thigh doesn't help with the issue. The curiosity gets the best of you - you want to know all the unsaid things, you want to get under his skin and discover everything Jeonghan even wanted.

He doesn't move his hand, he doesn't stroke your skin, his hand is just there. Again, a reminder of some sort, and you almost laugh - silly of him to think that his presence could go unnoticed by you. Jeonghan has always been there on your mind, and lately even more. It makes your mouth go dry. The feeling is back on the pit of your stomach again. What if? You ask yourself, what would have happened if Jeonghan said those things back then? Would the present be different? Would that have washed away all the curiosity about Jeonghan?

Arriving home you go straight to the sofa and plop down in the middle seat, taking your time to take off your high heels, you don’t know why but you still buy pairs with ankle ties - the bane of your existence when it is three hours later and you have a thigh dress on, maybe that’s why you think you hate those types of event, even though you had a great time, saw a few friends and enjoyed the night with Jeonghan, you always ended up tired with a few blisters on your feet. You can hear Jeonghan’s footsteps around the house while you massage your feet and try to ease the tension.

You turn your body so you can stretch your legs on the sofa, the pain on your calves is killing you. You don’t even turn when you feel Jeonghan entering the room, his perfume and the sound of his slippers are enough to make his presence known. It was always like that? Did Jeonghan's presence always engulf you? Did it always make you unable to focus on anything else? Did it always make you question your own sanity? He sits down on the sofa, in the same direction as you, his legs around yours, his front pressed on your back and you hold yourself back because you almost whimper when you feel your body melting against his.

“You’re tense,” Jeonghan says his voice low, his hands pressing the knots on your shoulders.

“I am always tense and stressed out,” you say, and it is the truth. Jeonghan doesn’t need to know that for the last few weeks the fact that he is the number one reason. You almost rub yourself against him, feeling a little bit crazy and hot all over - oh no.

“Hm,” Jeonghan acknowledges. When his fingers close around your neck you almost jump on your seat, his thumbs traveling across the knots of your spine, and you are not strong enough to not whimper this time, “there’s a lot of things you could do to distress.”

“Like what? A guided meditation?” You joke, trying to get away with it, trying to downplay every reaction of your body.

“Fuck those apps,” he mutters under his breath, he is so close you can feel his breath against your nape.

“Yeah right there,” You say when his thumb presses down in a particular knock on your back.

“This one?” You just nod, don’t trust yourself enough to utter a word that doesn’t sound like a humiliated noise. Since when did you turn into a mess in Jeonghan’s hand? But you just accept your fate, feeling how soft your body feels against his. “Can I open this?” Jeonghan asks, his voice so low you barely hear, but he is so close to you that your ears catch his question.

And you still don’t trust yourself, so you nod again. Jeonghan drops the zipper of your dress and takes his time to gather your hair in his hands, and taking them out of his way, letting your locks rest on your shoulder. His fingertips trails the collar of your dress again, and you can feel the goosebumps across your skin and you know Jeonghan can see them as well.

You can feel the way that Jeonghan’s fingertips travel down your spine as he opens the zipper of your dress. And you close your arms around your chest, in order to maintain the dress in place because you can feel how loose the fabric feels against your body after the zip is down. But apparently, Jeonghan is not even close to satisfied because his fingers are tugging the straps of your dress down your arms.

Jeonghan’s fingertips are still on your skin, stroking your arms when you feel his lips against your shoulder. Before you can think about anything your own body reacts before you, giving space so Jeonghan can continue kissing the column of your neck. Everything feels a little surreal, a blur, you can't quite grasp-

Then, your cellphone starts to ring bringing you back to reality.

“Don’t pick up,” Jeonghan tells you, almost like a whisper against your ear, his hands still around your waist - but then your phone rings again and again and reality comes crashing again and again.

And you want to say that you are ok with almost being undressed on Jeonghan’s lap, that it is ok the way his thighs cage you, that it is ok how his hands feel hot against your body and how his lips feel against your neck. But your phone rings again and it must be important so you stretch yourself and try to find your phone inside your bag by feel. When you finally can reach the phone dies, and you can feel Jeonghan’s smile across your skin - like he just won. But before you can drop the phone you feel it ringing again, and when you pick up the big font appears on the screen ‘seungcheol is the best’. You can feel Jeonghan’s hand freeze against your body, the way he just goes rigid.

“Don’t pick up,” He says again but now something is different - his voice is not low.

“It must be something important,” you reasoned, because it is true. You have been trying to get a hold of Seungcheol since before leaving Vegas and yet the man didn't answer you once.

“Just-” Jeonghan tries, and you can feel his squeezing your shoulders again, almost in a silent plea.

“I haven’t talked to him since Vegas, it must be something important,” You say, your own hands going to his in an effort to show him that you understand what he is trying to say.

“Are you truly doing this right now?” Jeonghan asks and when you don't answer him he already knows.

You look at him but Jeonghan just gets up and off the sofa and leaves the room, in the end, you choose to just pick up your phone and answer it with a low “Hey cheol,” so low that Seungcheol asks if you were sleeping.

Seungcheol tells you he wants to meet, to talk about things. And you say yes because why not? You pick yourself up and close your dress. Before going to your room you stop at Jeonghan's door and before you lose all the courage that you have in your body you knock on the door, nothing, and you try again just to hear the sound of the shower across the room when you glue your ear against the door.

When you lie on your bed you don't really can close your eyes. You feel restless, your mind wavering, and you can't stop thinking about Jeonghan.

What would that mean?

If you took that leap would Jeonghan be there if everything fell apart? A shiver runs down your spine because it is the first that the answer would be a no. You ask yourself why now. What made Jeonghan change?

And you can't even look back anymore - you can't even think about your friendship with Jeonghan without it being tinted, his words echoing in your brain, "I just gave up". You play the whole conversation back in your head, almost like an old VHS tape - rewinding and pressing play, trying to see everything in another angle, rewinding, asking yourself what that meant, rewinding, thinking back, rewinding and pressing play - unfolding all the touches, and the times Jeonghan's hand lingered on your body.

You rewind until the sleep gets the best of you when it is already bright outside.

You wake up to the sound of your phone, Seungcheol calling you because he will run a little late, of course, you say while he just laughs because it is so clear that you were sleeping. When you run down the stairs, almost falling on it because your brain isn't functioning yet, you don't find Jeonghan anywhere. When you look at the fridge and there are no new notes, your heart breaks a little.

The coffee that Seungcheol chooses is pretty, and not very crowded, and even though Seungcheol is late is not a big deal, you use the time to go over a few manuscripts and spreadsheets with a cup of coffee on your side. Or at least you try to, but the truth is that you send Jeonghan a few messages and every time your phone pings you need to check if he is the one answering you - it isn't.

When Seungcheol arrives, you see him first, still from afar, his hair is shorter now. You almost laugh because that is definitely not a Seungcheol's choice, nor a haircut. His hair screamed his fiancée's name.

"Hey stranger," he says sitting across from you.

"Hey yourself," you greet him back, almost laughing at how awkward this whole thing is. Seungcheol and you walking around eggshells. Neither you nor Seungcheol wants to start talking about the whole elephant in the room - Yoon Jeonghan.

You ask him about the wedding preparation, it is going nice he says, he was late because he needed one last fit on his suit. His mother nagged over and over about how he shouldn't wear a navy blue suit, his future wife nagged about how it couldn't be black because the whole vibe of the afternoon wedding was different from a night wedding.

"I'm just happy that you guys worked everything out," Seungcheol says after a while, sipping on his coffee.

"Cheol," You try your heart already tugging on your inside.

"No really," he smiles at you, the way he always does - with a fondness you can't quite handle, like after all those years he still sees you like the kid you once were. Someone who didn't really have hold of her life and in a way, after all those years you feel like that again. "I did a lot of thinking," Seungcheol chuckles, "I think that I always have been envious of Jeonghan in a way," he breathes loudly, almost trying to gather up courage, "here I was, with my wedding date set up and still having doubts about how I feel and if I should go on with it." Seungcheol scratches her head almost like he is ashamed to tell you the truth, "And there is my friend, right? I think that the thing I always admired about Jeonghan was how consistent he was, you know me, in that way, we are alike right? We see shine things and we run towards them, a new project, a thing we like, don't even say anything about the golf gear I swear to god," he says abruptly making you laugh, and it was true in that sense you and Seungcheol were very much the same. "But Jeonghan is consistent, that man's mind is a fucking rock," Seungcheol says like a jab and you can understand why, "and yet he is more sure about you than I am about my fiancée really. And he has been sure for years, I still don't know what made him make a move-, he didn't talk to me prior to that, but I am truly happy that you guys figured it out, it took you long enough."

"I don't even know what to say," you breathe, looking at Seungcheol. You can't blurt out the words - physically unable to tell him. You think about what you should say, you should tell him -'we are not together', 'we didn't figure it out'. You want to tell the truth, you want to come clean, but you just can't. "But yeah, he has always been there for me" you laugh a little soulless. It is not a lie either, but it is not the whole truth, Yoon Jeonghan has always been there for you, but now all the other pieces of the puzzle are coming together. "I think the only thing that hurt him was you going on and on about his commitment issues or whatever.

"It's-" Seungcheol breathes, "it wasn't like that. I mean, sure, he can't commit to anyone who isn't you," he shrugs, "I think it was back when you were going out with that lit kid right? god" Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head like he just found a memory in his treasure box, "Jeonghan was so jealous back then," Seungcheol continues, reminiscing,  "he would get furious every time that guy would give you a letter, a poem, anything really. I don't know how you didn't catch up on how much he hated that guy's gut if he dissed the poor kid."

"I just thought-" you stop to think about it, "I don't even know what I was thinking back then, but I never once thought it was because of jealousy, he was dating like 3 girls at the same time back then," you tell, felling the bittersweet taste on your mouth.

"Well," Seungcheol takes another sip, "you know Yoon Jeonghan, when he doesn't get what he wants he tends to fuck everything up and push himself to do shit just out of spite. His high school crush and love of his life found her first boyfriend, how do you think he would handle that? What he could do about that? Try to write poems better than Mark? He tried to believe they were all shitty, trying to forget you was the last thing he could do for himself, even that didn't actually work."

And you feel like you are about to go into overdrive.

It is one of your flaws really, you were never one who would react quickly - your brain always trying to assess and digest everything before being able to take a leap. The problem was that you needed to unpack more than ten years, to go through every file of your life with Jeonghan and try to find a new meaning, trying to find a clue, in search of something you don't know yet, but that could make you understand, or realize.

You spend the whole day feeling a weird taste in your mouth.

The thing is, you can't quite pinpoint what are you feeling, you can't really name it. It somehow resembles feeling betrayed, you think, that you have a cheating boyfriend and everyone knows his secret but nobody has the courage to tell you, and when you actually find out you are the last one to know.

You take your time walking around town and even figure out the longest route to Jeonghan's house.

Even that sounded weird rolling off your tongue.

You try again - picking random memories to try to see if you can find a hiding meaning somewhere, a clue, evidence of Jeonghan's feelings. A crush you could understand, something small like an affection with an expiration date you could understand. You could understand the curiosity that grew in the past month.

But Seungcheol's words didn't point to that, Seungcheol's words were actually pointing in the opposite direction of that.

And if you were being honest with yourself, that made you afraid.

“I talked with Seungcheol,” you blurt out when Jeonghan finally arrives.

“Yeah, we are not going there,” Jeonghan says seriously, without looking at you - avoiding you at every cost. It is a tell, a clue that he doesn't want to talk about it. You don't want either, if you could you would never go there again, but you need to, because living things like they are right now, messy and all over the place aren't working.

“Jeonghan,” you groan, “we need to talk about everything that happened in Vegas, his wedding is in a few weeks."

“I think you were there when he said I wasn't invited so I am not really following right now," Jeonghan says his voice stuffy because his head is inside the fridge in search of something, maybe he is just trying to not look at you.

"He told me you are not answering his calls," You tell him, and before Jeonghan says anything he just scoffs and closes the fridge door without taking anything out. He doesn't actually move, but he doesn't look at you either, his head is hanging off his shoulders, and you know Jeonghan so well that you know that nothing will make him move. You know you are not going to win, but yet you press it on, because you are tired of things being left unsaid, of Jeonghan bottling everything out and things ending up being your fault.

"Why are you being so fucking stubborn about this?" You ask watching Jeonghan just shake his head, "he is your best friend."

“Yeah like Seungcheol’s is flawless,” he bites back.

“Jeonghan this is not the point right now-" You start before he cuts you off.

“It is never the point right?” He asks you, finally looking at you, still holding his weight on the counter, "Is never the point, is never the right time, is never them it is always me fucking it up because it is Jeonghan he is not serious, he can take it, you guys can go on and on and god forbid if someone doesn't wanna take more bullshit from you."

“Come one don’t get angry with me,” you plead.

“Of course, right, I can't even get angry," Jeonghan says before he heads to walk out of the kitchen.

"Jeonghan," You almost beg making him stop and look at you, "we really need to talk about everything."

"Talk about everything or for you to be Seungcheol's spokesperson?" He says, and when you don't answer he completes, "Then no, we are not talking”

“Of course, because that will solve everything," you say almost groaning, "he is your best friend for god's sake, he still thinks we are in a somewhat relationship, he wants to talk to you, he feels guilty for being an asshole. He is sorry." You try almost stomping your feet at every word.

"Well, good for him," Jeonghan says like words don't have enough weight to make him care.

"Come on Jeonghan I'm trying here," you whine.

"Trying to do what exactly?" He asks, "Did you ever think about what actually happened since Vegas?" He says finally looking at you, and you feel even worse. He almost laughs when you don't answer. "Okay, I did, I spent every single second thinking about it and I am really fucking tired of thinking about it. I tried to put it through a different lens, I tried to put myself in other people's shoes, I tried to be reasonable and understand everyone, look I really did, and I did a great job understanding that you forgot the whole damn thing, of course, you can forget me telling you that I am head over hills for you sure, you can forget that you were the one who kissed me back then sure, of course it happens, I mean," Jeonghan scoffs, "I understand for years what is a few more months right?"

"Jeonghan-"

"No, let me finish this because somehow it will be my fault again so let me make everything clear," he says - back again looking at every corner around the kitchen but not laying an eye on you; "Seungcheol knows, he always knew about everything, he knows how many girlfriends gave me fucking ultimatum and I always choose you. He knows how many women broke up with me because they knew I was in love with you, sure, everyone in my fucking life knew but you - I understand that too sure," he stops, breathing loudly and you feel the lump around your throat way to thigh, "and he fucking knows that if I could I would've got over this sooner, so yeah, maybe I was too fucking sensitive when my friend act like I was a fucking coward who has commitment issues and would never do anything about it sure, it's my fault great, I can be responsible for that. I can take that sure, I can take Seungcheol, what I can't take is you playing dumb after last night, that I can't take it, and to be fair I don't want to, I don't have to, and you don't have a lot of excuses this time, I guess you remember right? And I think that time I made myself pretty clear so this time you must know right?"

You have been building your life around Jeonghan's for years. In a way, Jeonghan's life and yours were beautifully intricate, to the point that you weren't quite sure where one ended and one began. You think about how would your life be without Jeonghan's presence, and how would your future look like. And that scared the shit out of you.

"And that took you how many years Jeonghan?"

"Don't do that," he says and his voice feels almost small.

"Sure, I am sorry if I'm being fucking selfish right now, but you had your own time to think about everything, right? You have had years to come to your own terms? I'm freaking out here, do you think that's easy for me? Do you think it is easy to think about the aftermath if this goes wrong Jeonghan? Sure I understand that maybe that is your tipping point great, I understand that, but you are my friend and I don't fucking know how we will go on if we fuck everything up," you laugh, "I think we already passed that apparently."

"We didn't fuck it up," Jeonghan says, "Why can't you trust me for once?"

"I do," You say, and it is the truth, you trust Jeonghan with your life, "I do, I am just scared. You took your time to figure everything out, but every time I look back now I think about everything you didn't tell me,"

"I told you everything," Jeonghan says and you can almost feel his desperation, "I was sincere about everything,"

"Now you are just telling lies," you say laughing dryly.

"Sure I didn't tell you everything, but the things I haven't told you are small in comparison."

"The fact that you like me isn't small Jeonghan," you say, and it finally downs on you, that this - his feelings are a huge thing that you can't quite hide.

"What I am trying to say is-" Jeonghan says, finally taking steps and getting closer to you, "I will not go anywhere," you hear him - even though it feels like he is whispering, "even if we fuck up, even if this doesn't work out, I will not go anywhere, if that's what you are afraid of then you have nothing to be afraid. I won't go anywhere because that would kill me more than would hurt you, and even though everyone around me thinks I am a masochist I would prefer not to die."

"I would rather not hurt you," you say and you feel like you could cry, "I am sorry if I ever did."

"You did," Jeonghan says, taking your hand, and holding it firmly like that act alone can show you how serious he is, "but nothing I couldn't take, even If you hurt me again, I can take it, I will take it." 

Even if both of you don't want to, things stay a little weird between the two of you for some time. Like both of you are back to being so conscious of each other presence that it is just weird to jump right back at it, or, actually, take a step in another direction. But things fall back into place - more because of Jeonghan’s attitude than yours. He is the one that calls you for dinner, and he is the one that hugs you when you enter the kitchen.

He is the one that is trying to make things not weird. And you love him for it, you just love him, heatedly.

And the thing is, you always loved Jeonghan, but somehow, this kind of love and appreciation feels new and it is so scary, it makes you realize how everything is so fragile. But, at the same time - it makes you curious, it makes you wonder, it makes you act first just to see Jeonghan’s reaction.

Like when Jeonghan’s is whining about something and how he wants to quit his work so bad and you just hug him - almost melting against his back, placing your chin against his should and you can see Jeonghan freeze for a few seconds before he starts to pay attention on the food again.

Or when you start to watch a movie together and Jeonghan just melts in your lap, falling asleep while your hand goes through his hair. The next day when you whine about it he sweats to God he didn't sleep, he was paying attention to the movie, if you want to he can say the whole movie plot and all.

When the first Ttoram prototype arrives you are so excited that when you both place the little bunny on the dinner table, when she flops down - face diving because her head is too big - you are so happy for him that you just hold his face and place a quick kiss on his lips. Jeonghan looking at you wide-eyed. You almost start to laugh before you mutter:

“I told you, her head is too big,” you say trying to place Ttoram upright again.

“It is her charm, her brain is so big that she is dumb,” He says his voice weirdly fond, hands on your body pulling you into him.

“Yoon Jeonghan,” You stare at him - that weird mischievous smile on his lips, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“You should be honored,” Jeonghan says, holding your face almost making you yelp because his hands are so freaking cold, “You are my muse after all.”

And you almost curse him. But the thing is Jeonghan is cute, so will let it pass.

The thing is most of the time you are giggling and kicking your feet at everything Jeonghan does - that crush is so weird because you used to be stronger than that, now you are just falling in all of his antics, and boy doesn't he love it.

He just says the weirdest things out of nowhere just so he can hear your laugh. He holds you every time he has a chance, just pulling you close to hug you. But his favorite part of this new thing is how movie night now is just the two of you starting a movie to just act like a horny teenager.

Jeonghan is always the one who initiates it in a way. Sometimes is just caressing your arm before you start kissing him and licking against his mouth. Sometimes he feels bold enough and places his hand under your hoodie. The details always change but he always ends up with a hard-on and feeling like his younger self.

And it is happening again, his cock is hard, and he can barely hear the movie that is playing on the tv because you are kissing him and he can feel himself melting against the bed, like his whole body is going limp.

It is stronger than him, really. He wants to stay calm and collected but before he knows it he is already a whimpering mess, fingers digging in on your waist, his hips moving on their own, searching for some kind of pressure.

It is such a weird feeling, feeling so boneless and yet, feeling like he is a string - being pulled thigh enough he is about to snap at any minute.

When you break the kiss Jeonghan almost whines but before he can say anything you are already kissing his jaw so he just breathes loudly - accepting everything you want to give him.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask low on Jeonghan’s ears and he almost drop dead right there, like a fucking high schooler, like a teenager who just cum on his pant and drop dead when see a woman naked. And that would be fucking humiliating. He waited for so long he can't just burst a fucking nut in his own pants.

Jeonghan wants to answer you, he wants to say yes and maybe even mutter a please and thank you but somehow his brain is not even working properly, he is beyond dumb. But his dick is hard against his pants and he cannot even think properly - his brain is working overcapacity right now to try to take everything in.

So he does the only thing he can do in the moment - he pulls you into a kiss, and it is messy but Jeonghan doesn’t really care, focusing on the way you taste against his tongue. Jeonghan feels your cold hand against his stomach and he almost jumps at the spot, but you just whimper against his mouth when he does the same thing.

Jeonghan thinks the two of you are beyond niceties - you just told him you want his dick in your mouth, so he lets his desires win, while one of his hands is holding your waist under your shirt, the other one he uses to grope your ass. He squeezes your ass and at the same time, he tries to get your body even closer. You end up with your leg over him, across his hips, Jeonghan with his last functioning neuron takes the chance to shove his hand under your shorts too.

“Han,” you say when you come up for air, hand still splayed across Jeonghan’s body. “Come on,” you try again whining.

“Hm?” Jeonghan questions, his eyes almost closed and his head bent.

“You don’t want to?” You ask, voice low, taking the time that he uses to think about an answer to trail your lips across his neck, sucking at his skin, “I really want to but if you don't that's okay?”

“Hm?” Jeonghan mumbles - for a second he has no idea what are you talking about, his mind focused on how you feel against his hands, the weight of your body against him, how every curve of your body is pressed against his, how you smell and you taste.

“Suck you off,” you say again against his neck, almost petulantly like Jeonghan isn't paying attention, and he really isn't, but you shouldn't blame a man.

“Fuck,” he says almost whimpering.

Jeonghan was never like this - in his life nor in bed. He was never a mess, not to this point. Jeonghan always pretended to be somewhat collected, holding the strings of his life tight enough he could make his own choices, but it was never like that when the topic was you. So when the feeling pools on his belly, a reaction to how your fingers feel against his throat, taking matters into your hands when you grab Jeonghan's chin and maneuver his face in an angle so you can have access to more of his skin.

Jeonghan thinks he can die like this - almost dry-humping your leg. But apparently, you have other plans, your hand tugging at his joggers. Jeonghan's only reaction is to lift his hips, trying to help. It doesn't help much, but it is enough for you to shove your hands under his underwear, making Jeonghan shiver. When your hand finally finds his dick he almost melts, the tip of your things trying to map out everything before you apply pressure on it. He moans softly before closing his eyes.

He wants to be patient and wants to take whatever you give him, but the truth is he can't quite hold back anymore. His hands left your body so he can get hold of your face, kissing you. "Want to see you," he tells you, using all his strength to take one of the straps of your pajamas down. Kissing your shoulders, trying to map your collarbones with his mouth.

When Jeonghan tries to move the strap down your arm you don't budge, shaking your head telling him no, "don't want to stop touching you," and Jeonghan almost short circuit when your hand wraps around him and give his dick a few tugs.

"I know baby," Jeonghan coos, almost delirious out of his mind, his hand holds your wrist and takes out of his cock and the way that you just whine makes him even more desperate. His whole body is limp, almost melting. Jeonghan thinks he might die if he doesn't get naked, but he is too entertained with the view of your boobs in his face.

He knows there is an easier way to do this but fuck it, he is not in his right mind. Instead of taking out your flimsy excuse of a pajama Jeonghan just shoves It down, tugging at the end of the fabric while he kisses your chest. The way that you hold his head is so delicate that makes Jeonghan feel weirdly treasured even if he is completely debauched lapping at your skin. And Jeonghan takes his time, appreciating every inch of your skin

He could spend hours like this, he thinks - almost melting against you, kissing your chest lazily. He drags his tongue across your skin until he can reach your nipple, his hands come up your body until he can grab your boob so he can angle just right before his mouth is back to your body. Jeonghan thinks he can die like that, it would be a good way to go - your fucking tits on his face, your body pressed on his, his hard-on against your thigh, everything feels dizzy. When you shove your chest on Jeonghan's face, holding his face against you, he just takes it because he is so down and so horny that taking it is the only thing he can do.

"Hannie," you call and Jeonghan really just has enough strength to look up at you, without his mouth leaving your chest, "Just let me-" you try to say without much control of your own situation.

It is not like you are in your right mind either. Jeonghan's hands feels warm on your skin, and he holds you so tight that you think about the aftermath of his grip - you should make a mental note to check for marks after this, and that alone makes you tremble. You can only think about how Jeonghan's body feels against yours, how his mouth is still on you, and you want to cry because it is just so good but not enough. You feel you might cry. Or worse, die.

You press Jeonghan down until his back is pressed down on the mattress. And God he is so pretty, it makes you almost feel delirious.

When you sit down on Jeonghan's hips he feels like he is almost dying. Everyone he ever wanted felting very pale in comparison when he lay his eyes on you - hair already a mess, lips red from kissing him, flimsy shirt pooling at your waist. Your hands sneak under his shirt, and he almost laughs, damn he must be looking so dumb right now - feeling and behaving like a fucking virgin while his crush is on his lap, taking her time with him. You lift Jeonghan's shirt, dragging your hands underneath it, almost whining and frustrated when the shirt doesn't stay around his neck. Cute - he thinks, when you pout Jeonghan realizes he said that out loud.

"Just take it off," you whine again, tugging at his shirt.

Jeonghan just nods, holding your hips for leverage until he is sitting upright, holding the back of his shirt and taking it off in record time, before Jeonghan lies down again he feels your hand on his chin, holding him so you can kiss him again. Damn, he is lucky. But before he can think another thought you are pushing him back on the bad again, his hand on your hips.

Your hands travel on his body, caressing him - making him feel so close to losing his mind it is almost ridiculous. When Jeonghan's feels your fingers graze his neck he feels almost delirious, when your hand palms his chest and your digits press against his nipples it Is his time to whine, he almost feels like it is just too much, maybe he is closer than a step away from coming in his pants.

One of your hands is splayed against Jeonghan's stomach when the other one tugs  the waistline of his pants, pulling the elastic band and letting it hit against Jeonghan's skin. You shuffle around his hips, sitting on his thighs now and Jeonghan is ready to complain when you tug on his pants again, this time actually getting the cloth to move and get it stopped by Jeonghan's hard-on.

"Baby," Jeonghan mumbles, "that's too much," he tries again, but apparently there is nothing he can say to make you stop - and in all honestly he doesn't want you to.

Jeonghan thinks he will die if he doesn’t get his dick free. Even though he doesn’t want to he takes the hand off your ass so he can take down his joggers, shoving his underwear down at the same time, his other hand still firm on your waist.

When your fingers close against Jeonghan’s shaft he almost sees stars. You give him a few experimental tugs. He feels so breathless, how is that even possible?

You almost scoff, looking at how even his dick is pretty - really, you should complain because it is so unfair. You press your finger on his slit, collecting the drop of precum, and the way that his dick twitch it makes your mouth water, but before you can even complete your thoughts Jeonghan’s hand is holding your face and bringing it down to another kiss.

If it was up to Jeonghan he would kiss you the whole night, but you had other ideas, using one hand to shove him until he is lying again when the other one is still on his dick. He is pretty sure he can feel your taste against your mouth but yet he feels parched. When you start to press kisses on his body, the only thing Jeonghan can do is take it.

Jeonghan thinks you want to wreck him. He feels you press your lips against his nipples, his hips buckling on its own, and you stroke his dick a little bit harder. Jeonghan can barely breathe, yet, without wasting a second you are doing it again - pressing your lips to his other nipple and licking it.

Before he can even wrap his mind around that you start to lick his belly and Jeonghan almost sees stars. He just feels everything, and apparently, your tongue dragging against his skin goes straight to his dick. Jeonghan doesn't know how, but he lifts himself up on his elbows, the view alone could make him cum - you still kissing him, lips on his hips, pressing Jeonghan's dick against his tummy, fingers rubbing his frenulum and he is just so sensitive that he groans before he can hold your hand making you stop.

"Too sensitive?" You ask and why the fuck do you sound so out of it when Jeonghan is being pulled and pushed around the edge?

"A little," Jeonghan answers breathlessly, his tongue dry against his mouth.

"Ok, noted," you say before doing something even worse - placing your lips on the same place before kissing the tip of his dick.

You wrap your lips around Jeonghan can't really control himself, he just pushes his hips slightly so you can take more of him, and god when you moan around him almost makes Jeonghan forget every trace of decency and good bed etiquette. But damn you just look so beautiful sucking his dick, one of your hands digging on his thigh and the other one still wrapped around his dick that it is physically impossible to not thrust his hips up.

"God," Jeonghan says and he sounds so defeated against his own ears, "fuck, you are so pretty," he tries again, looking at you and when he sees you looking up at him, eyes almost twinkling with the praise. And his mind almost snaps - oh, you felt that didn't you? The joy of discovering something every time Jeonghan's hips snapped. He gets it now. It is almost like a power trip. "So pretty, taking my cock," Jeonghan tries again and he almost can feel your moan against his dick before he can hear it.

Every word that Jeonghan mutters makes you take more of his dick into your mouth until he is hitting the back of your throat, god and how he can take that? Your lips around him, your tongue dancing around his dick, the hollowing of yours checks each time you suck him. He is delirious and out of his mind. He tries his best, he really does, but his hips have a mind of its own, and before he knows it he is thrusting up again making you gag around him.

Then your mouth leaves his dick and Jeonghan feels like he is about to collapse, everything just feels so much - the sound, the spit trail, the way your breath is irregular, fanning against his skin - and yet the intensity of feeling nothing makes him mind spin a little bit.

"Come here," Jeonghan mutters trying to catch his own breath. You crawl up his body and Jeonghan can only focus on how messy you look, lips glossy and pink, and he can see the faintest trail of spit on the corner of your lips, he presses his lips there before he drags his fingers on your lips, "I let you suck my cock, can I fuck you now?"

"Please?" You ask back and Jeonghan can feel his dick twitching.

"How do you want me?" Jeonghan says tugging at the bottom of your shorts and he almost laughs when you just shove everything down at once - and he could laugh really, at your desperation but first, he is way worse than you, second you are so pretty that he can't wrap his mind around the fact that everything he conjured up in his mind every time he thought about you when he was lazily stroking himself didn't do you justice.

"You can stay like that," you say, and before Jeonghan can mutter an answer you are already placing your knees on the sides of his hips, his hands automatically going to your waist, his mouth pressing against your collar bones.

One of your hands goes to Jeonghan's jaw, just holding slightly, while the other one wraps around Jeonghan's dick again - and he swears he would say something but his mind goes completely blank when you press your pussy on his dick. Your hips moving to make his cock disappear between your folds, making it drag against your clit, Jeonghan can feel how wet you are and god everything just feels so hot - he feels tight all over, like his muscles are contracting, even the ones he didn't know he had.

"Are you getting off like this?" Jeonghan questions and his only answer is a whine and your hips buckling against him, "Come on baby," Jeonghan tries again, hand now holding your hip, guiding your movements, "I can-" Jeonghan breathes, he doesn't want to say it but, "If you keep going like that, pussy so pretty against my cock, I will cum before I-"

"God," you groan against his shoulder, "can you really?"

"Yeah," Jeonghan almost laugh, his hand grabbing your ass. Of course, he can, he could've come already, but he is dragging this off, he is holding himself back. "Babe," Jeonghan calls you, mouth hot against your neck, "I could've come on your mouth, I'm so hard it is almost painful,"

"Can we-" You almost hiccup, "can we like that" you mumble again, "you can fuck me later," you say and Jeonghan almost sees white.

God, he could cum like that this wasn't even a question, the question was could you? The fact that you were over the edge like him was enough to drive him crazy.

Every time you drag your hips against him Jeonghan's let out a little moan, and he feels so wrecked that he just plants his lips on your neck, sucking at your skin. Jeonghan does not know if it is a reaction or is just because he is losing his mind but he can tell you are getting faster, the rhythm getting a little off, the way you breathe against him, everything just seems too much, and Jeonghan can't take it anymore.

The world stops spinning for a bit - everything just stays still.

Jeonghan is out of it until the sound of your breath brings him back. You are almost pouting. "Did you?" Jeonghan asks, himself breathless too.

"No," You whine and you feel so frustrated that Jeonghan pities you a little bit.

"It's okay," he says - because it is he will take care of it, it's not a problem.

But when Jeonghan looks down he almost cums again. It is so messy. Why there is so much cum? God, he blinks at the view - trying to take everything but mainly you, hovering on his lap.

"Han," You call and Jeonghan is brought back to reality.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he says, and it is not like he is in control anymore, his mind Is just gone, he just drops his hand - scooping his own cum and placing it own your pussy. You moan so loudly and Jeonghan can feel your desperation, pressing his digits more firmly against your clit, "Like that?" He questions and you can only nod your head, words falling. Jeonghan holds you close to him, your chest against his, your hand still going between your legs, his other hand holding your waits, "Fuck how can you be so hot," he starts going making you feel a light-headed, "I will eat you later okay?" Jeonghan says, "Don't worry, I will eat you out and I will let you fuck me, you just need to tell me what you need."

"Just," You hiccup, "Just like that."

Jeonghan listens to you, even though the position is not the best to his wrist and he could do so much better - but you just keep babbling on and on about how you are almost there, how he just needs to stay like that, how you are feeling so good that he listens to you, how could he not when you are almost coming undone against his fingers?

And then you bring Jeonghan's face up to a kiss, his mind was too focused on his fingers disappearing against your folds to catch on earlier, but you don't seem to mind when you lick against his mouth and finally cum. Jeonghan holds you against his body for a few seconds when he finally hears you groan.

"God I am so sticky," you complain and he finally laughs.

Jeonghan though, keeps his promise and he eats you out after that, and he fucks you too, and then, he just forgets he has his own room.

It is weird how much you two fit each other. And how seamlessly you two turn into boyfriend-girlfriend situations, or legally, husband-wife, but who cares about silly papers really?

Everything is normal really - Jeonghan keeps saying he need just a better Ttoram version before you two start promoting on social media. You two keep sharing dinners, and Jeonghan even makes a point about how the two of you need to go on a date. You bribe him, telling him he needs to call Cheol before the wedding - and he just shrugs and picks his phone up calling his best friend, you almost scream, it was that easy?

You two share everything, you don't know why but Jeonghan just chooses your bed to sleep in, you question him saying you want to sleep on his bed too - it just smells like you, is nice - he says before making a weird noise after face planting one of your pillows. 

It comes to the point that you get weirded out when you wake up and he is not on your bed. When you pick yourself up and finally drag your body out of the bed - something weird happens, an unknown voice resonates in your house - okay not yours, Jeonghan's but...

You find Jeonghan in the kitchen, back facing you, sipping a cup of tea with another woman. A very gentle elderly lady, her hair is almost all white, and everything about her screams grandma. She sees you before you can say anything,

"Hi dear," even her voice is gentle.

"Han?" You ask when Jeonghan stares at you, eyes fondly taking up your sleepy self.

"Hey baby, come here," He says opening his arms, "come here Iris was talking about how she was visiting her third grandson can you believe that?"

You could, sure, everything about her screamed grandma in uppercase letters, but what was happening?

"Yes," the old lady answers, "where was I?" she claps before she picks back up again, "See like I was telling you, Aroon's mom is my youngest daughter, and her pregnancy hadn't been the easiest so that's why I couldn't bring the table back," she says and you neck almost snaps, looking at Jeonghan's, he is so proud of himself that you almost scream. "So I'm sorry dear, your husband told me how much it meant to you but I was out of town so-"

God, he looks so proud and so full of himself, he couldn't be happier right now. God, you are so deeply in love with him. You could marry him all over again.

[BONUS SCENE ONE - THE WEDDING}

“Are we doing this for real?” You ask and the world is kinda spinning a little bit, by your side, Jeonghan holds your hand. You both stare at this little chapel, the Elton John one because you said that you would prefer to be married with don't go breaking my heart, Tiny Dancer or even Berry and the Jets as a soundtrack than any of the Elvis’s songs and of course Jeonghan listened, he listened to everything you said. What a fucker, how could you not be in love with this guy? What? Wait-

“Of course, we are doing this, we made a bet,” Jeonghan says still staring at the chapel.

“Only because we made a bet,” you say looking at him. When Jeonghan turns his head to look at you something inside you sings a bit - like a doll with something in the inside broke and jiggling inside.

“Of course darling, only because we made a bet,” Jeonghan says, holding your hand firmly, he smiles at you, and out of nowhere he is running inside the building and you follow him around because why not?

It seemed like a fucking great idea, and you both did lose the bet, even though right now you can't really think straight - how does a bet work? Can both people lose a bet at the same time? You are not totally sure but you guess Jeonghan is right, it can happen.

[BONUS SCENE TWO - BIOGRAPHY]

When Jeonghan finally opens the hotel door you almost fall in the room, but before you fall face flat on the floor Jeonghan's hands save you from breaking your nose.

“Wow, what a gentlemanly husband I have,” You say, tapping his chest.

“Sure, sure, perfect husband material right here,” Jeonghan says pointing at himself the door still open.

“You are,” you gushed, hands on his shoulders searching for some kind of balance, using these high heels shows was so wrong, but you knew at least you would be pretty in your wedding pics, and in the end, that’s all that matters - the pictures for your own autobiography that you will make for your grandchildren. You always told Jeonghan that you would make one for him too, with every single thing he gave you as a safe keep and the collection of pictures you have of him in different times of his life. You have pictures of Jeonghan with his long hair, with his short hair, the time he died it was almost white because he thought it would be so so cool and ended up hating how it fucked up his scalp. You had the material, you had the story, and you could do his biography, the funny thing now it is that his grandchildren could be yours too.

“What are you laughing at?” Jeonghan says, kneeling at your feet and taking your shoes off, wow, a life-saver.

“I just thought about grandchildren,” you squealed in a high-pitched voice that you didn’t know you had until Jeonghan’s hand found your hips.

“Grandchildren?”He asks you softly.

“The biographies,” you say and Jeonghan nods, “I was thinking about how I always pictured us together when we were gray and old in a nursing home together all that jazz, but know that I thought about it, your family will be my family so the grandchild will be the same kids, I won’t do your biography for your grandchildren I will do your biography for my grandchildren as well that changes a lot of things,”

“Like what?” He asks amused

“I don’t know if I want to tell them about the time you were sure to have gonorrhea or something like that”

“I do think we can let this story die with us,”

“wait, now that I am thinking about it like we only have one family," You say, a pouting on your lips, and Jeonghan almost melts, "that means only one visit in the nursing home because like when our family as separate entities we would have two families so two visit yours and mine now that I think about it I think we should divorce

“We are not divorcing," Jeonghan says.

“We can annul It,” you try again.

“We won't do it,” Jeonghan says, shaking his head like you are talking nonsense.

“But two visits are better than one,” You say showing him your fingers and trying to make him understand that two are indeed better than one, boys like girls even sang about this, was Jeonghan dumb?

“I won't have a family if it isn't your family,” Jeonghan says plopping down on the bed.

“Of course you can have a family,” you are sure of it Jeonghan is amazing there is nothing stopping him.

“But I don't want to,” Jeonghan whines looking at you and you get it, you finally get it.

“Damn boy you are crazy about me,” you say laughing, laying on his side.

“Now you are catching up,” Jeonghan says while his arms close around you.

“Still think two is a bigger number”

[BONUS SCENE - SHOULD WE?]

Jeonghan, your husband of three years, is eating on the kitchen counter and you can almost hear the gears in his brain turning and twisting. Sometimes, you think that maybe, Jeonghan is like a toy that he built the week prior, if you pick him up and shake him around you can hear loose parts of him rattling inside of himself.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask while opening the fridge.

“Should we go to Vegas again?” He asks taking a bit of his breakfast.

“Vegas?” you say - your head peaking and your body stretched so you can face him while the fridge door is open. 

“I was thinking we should renew our vows,” he says like he is thinking about buying lunch because he cannot bring himself to cook, “you know, I want you to actually remember our wedding.”

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iv

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 11.3k

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions (you might laugh, you might cry, and you might just wanna punch something after this chapter), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecation in some aspect, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: So, elephant in the room....how did this get past 11k when other chapters are significantly shorter? Well...I had ideas? I'm sorry!! 🫠 ANYWAY more angst in this chapter. Sorry not sorry for what you will consume here. I honestly love this chapter so much though! Okay, I won't say any more bc spoilers are cool but not in my fic! (hehe) Enjoy! 🥰

series masterlist | next >>

Numb.

It’s the only word you can rummage up to describe the sudden shift in your demeanor. You’d think one’s typical response to their ex-husband’s drunken confession would be one of confusion, anger, hurt, or the like.

But you’ve gone stone cold instead, barely able to feel the steaming hot water that kisses your skin from within the tub. The room seems to have become a bit of a haze too, your vision blurring as you grip your cell phone in your hand.

The absurdity of it all—the man who handed you divorce papers now professing his love—feels like a cruel joke. The sheer impossibility of the situation is almost laughable, yet you can't even bring yourself to do that at this point. You've exhausted all of your emotional resources.

You’re unsure how many seconds pass before his voice calls your name again.

“__? Are you still there?” His voice is a muffled echo in your mind. It sounds so far away, though you know he’s right here on the other end of the line.

"Honestly Jungkook…I don’t know what you expect me to say.”  The words come out slow, measured, and almost emotionless.

There's a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is hoarse, cracking under the weight of his confession. "I guess—I'm not sure either. But I just needed you to know. I needed to tell you everything."

“You're drunk. You realize that, right?"

“I had a few beers, yeah," he admits. "Maybe I'm a little tipsy. But it doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately. I miss you, __, a lot."

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you’re back in the past, back when those words would have meant the world to you. But now, they feel hollow, devoid of the warmth they once carried. And how can they not? You tethered yourself to your ex-husband for three years, learned his patterns, became acquainted with his needs, and danced with his indifference. In the end, the result is always the same, and this time is no different. By morning, he'll likely forget everything he's ever said to you and return to his normal habits.

You take a deep breath, your head resting on the cool porcelain tub, and close your eyes. "I can’t do this," you say quietly. "Not now."

"It's late. I understand-"

"No," you interrupt, voice firmer, "you don't understand, Jungkook. You don't understand me and you never have. I'm hanging up now."

"Please don't. I know I've hurt-"

"Stop. Do you know how patronizing that sounds to me? Please don't call this number again."

"But... I love you, __," his voice is barely a whisper. "Do you not love me anymore?"

"Goodbye, Jungkook." You end the call before another word can drop from his lips, or yours for that matter. It's time you accept that you are never more than an impulsive decision, a temporary solution, and an item on his agenda. Tonight's conversation solidifies that for you.

Despite being sleep-deprived the next morning, you refuse to let fatigue keep you from fulfilling your promise to visit Taehyung at the hospital. You've been anxious about him all night, tossing and turning without respite. The weight of your ex-husband's drunken confession added to your restlessness as well. Nevertheless, you push it out of your mind as you bound out the front door.

Upon arrival, you are greeted by an abundance of flowers, cards, and thoughtful gifts scattered around Taehyung’s hospital room. One bouquet on the windowsill catches your attention in particular—its familiar scent of lavender is instantly recognizable.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice says from behind you. You turn to see Dr. Min entering the room, Taehyung’s chart in hand. He seems more lively than last night, his expression noticeably brighter with a faint smile on his lips.

“Yes, they’re lovely,” you reply. “I’m guessing these are from Taehyung’s fans and colleagues?”

He nods. “Indeed. Lavender is a calming scent. It’s no wonder people chose it for him.” The corners of his mouth lift slightly before he continues, “My girlfriend loves it too. She says it helps her relax after a long day.”

The comment is unexpected yet sweet. You notice the suppressed grin and the warmth in his eyes easily, signaling his deep affection for her. You wonder how it must feel to love someone so purely and without restraint. Before the thought lingers, your gaze shifts involuntarily to the man on the hospital bed, still asleep. Though the bandages are gone and his breathing is stable, your concern deepens as you take in his nearly still form.

“How’s he doing?” you ask, moving closer to his bed. Your heart tightens with each step as the cuts and burns on his face become more visible.

“He’s lucky,” Dr. Min says, walking to the opposite side of the bed, his tone growing serious. “He has multiple rib fractures, a mild concussion, and a few burns, but it could have been worse. Taehyung is stable now, and we’re monitoring his progress closely.”

“How long will it take for him to heal?”

“His face burns are only second-degree, so they should heal in a couple of weeks. The concussion should also resolve with ample rest and by avoiding strenuous activity—both physical and mental.”

“Which means he won’t be able to act for a while?” you ask, reading between the lines.

“Afraid not,” Dr. Min dismisses the idea. “Hopefully, his projects can accommodate his absence.”

“What about his rib fractures? I imagine those will require the most attention.” You feel like you might be asking too many questions, knowing Dr. Min will likely need to repeat everything to Taehyung later, but you can't hold back. After all, you made a promise to yourself last night that you'd ensure he'd be alright.

“Yes," Dr. Min answers carefully, "they could take up to three months to fully heal. We recommend applying ice for 20 minutes at a time, several times a day. As long as he remains stable over the next few days, he can be discharged to continue his recovery at home." He pauses, allowing you to process the information before continuing. "It's crucial that he rests. Even if he feels bursts of energy, he needs to let his body heal. Light activities like breathing exercises and short walks are fine, but he should avoid intense exercises until we give the all-clear.”

You nod thoughtfully, absorbing Dr. Min’s detailed prognosis. Taehyung’s condition sounds serious but manageable. After such a traumatic accident, it's clear he'll need months to heal. Getting him to adhere to the doctor's orders will be challenging, given his profession and active social calendar. However, if you need to be the one to remind him, you will.

“I’ll make sure he follows your recommendations,” you assure Dr. Min, your voice tinged with concern.

“I have no doubt,” Dr. Min replies with a reassuring smile. “You know, you're the first person who’s shown up for him both last night and today. Aside from that young man who came in briefly. Namjoon, right?”

“Yeah,” you respond slowly, the revelation catching you off guard. “He works as my secretary but he's also a good friend of Taehyung's. His family really hasn’t come in yet?” You circle back to Dr. Min's first point with a sense of urgency.

You wouldn't normally be this insistent on the matter; however, past conversations with Taehyung have revealed how much he cherishes his family, often sharing stories about their reunions with warmth and enthusiasm. With such a loving family, you’re taken aback that they haven’t shown up yet. Then again, his accident was sudden, and there could be various reasons for their delay. Do they even know about his accident, for that matter?

“They called, of course, but you’re the first to actually come in,” Dr. Min clarifies, his gaze thoughtful as he responds to your concern. "You must be quite an attentive boss to show this level of care for your colleague."

There's an underlying suggestiveness laced in his tone, but you're quick to brush it off, redirecting the focus to Taehyung’s condition. “It’s the least I can do, given what he’s going through,” you say, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “He’s a valuable member of our team, and I want to make sure he gets back on his feet as soon as possible.”

Dr. Min's eyes twinkle, as if holding back further commentary. “Even from a professional standpoint, not everyone would go to such lengths for a coworker. He’s fortunate to have you.”

You feel a slight flush as his subtle implications continue. “Well, I just…care about his well-being. Besides,” you glance back at Taehyung, your expression softening more than you intend, “I know he'd do the same for me.”

For a few short breaths, Dr. Min remains silent as your attention remains fixed on your colleague. “I need to check on a few other patients so I’ll leave you two alone for now," he finally says, breaking the silence. “I'll be back to check in on him again later, but if you have any questions or need anything in the meantime, the nurse is nearby."

With a nod and a soft "thank you," you watch Dr. Min exit the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung once more. After settling into a chair beside his bed, you silently observe the steady rise and fall of his chest. The rhythmic sound of his breathing is a small comfort amidst his vulnerable state. Despite everything, you're glad he's going to be okay.

As each minute passes, nurses come and go, and the hum of activity outside the room gradually fades into a background murmur. You had only planned to stay for an hour this morning, but time seems to slip away as the clock now nears 1 p.m. You had hoped Taehyung would be awake by now, but he remains still.

After a brief sigh, the thought occurs to you that you don't have to spend so many hours here, waiting for Taehyung to wake up. It's the weekend, and there are plenty of other things you could be doing instead. Dr. Min could easily call you the moment Taehyung wakes up. But something in your conscience urges you not to leave. Just give it another hour, you think. If he isn’t awake by then, you can come back tomorrow.

Suddenly, a slight movement catches your eye. Taehyung's fingers twitch, and his eyelids flutter. You nearly missed it with how lost you were in your thoughts.

Leaning forward with nervous relief, you softly call his name. It takes him a few seconds, but slowly, his eyes blink open. He turns his head slightly, gaze eventually finding yours, and you feel momentarily transfixed. It's unlike you to respond this way, but you had forgotten how piercing and comforting his eyes could be. A genuine smile immediately spreads across his face once your eyes meet, though not as boxy as usual due to his condition. Nevertheless, it's encouraging to see him awake and responsive.

“Hi," his voice is strained but recognizable. "It's...nice to see you."

“The feeling's mutual,” you respond gently. “How are you feeling?”

He shifts slightly, wincing a bit. “Like I got hit by a truck,” he mutters. “I’m sore all over.”

“You had a close call, but you’re in good hands now. Your doctor, Dr. Min, says you'll be okay, as long as you take it easy for a while. He was here earlier this morning, but he'll check in with you again soon.”

"You..." He hesitates, surprise flickering in his eyes. "You've been here since morning? What time is it now?"

"Oh, uh, it's around 1 in the afternoon," you say, gradually realizing the weight of your words. You consider whether or not to tell him the full extent of your stay. “I got here a few hours ago. Don’t worry.”

Taehyung nods slightly, a mix of gratitude and concern evident in his expression. “Thank you for being here,” he murmurs. “I wasn't sure if I'd be alone.”

A sinking feeling settles in your chest at his words, your throat tightening. Before you can ask what he means, he continues, “I must have taken a lot of your weekend from you.” His tone is apologetic, and your heart aches. Here he is, lying on a hospital bed, in pain and vulnerable, and he’s worried about inconveniencing you.

“I'm glad to be here,” you reassure gently. “I promise, you’re not alone. A lot of people care about you.”

Taehyung glances around, taking in the gifts and flowers scattered throughout the room. “From my fans, I’m guessing?” he asks, attempting to keep his tone light.

“And your colleagues too,” you reply. “We all want to see you get better." Taehyung returns his gaze to you, a faint smile lingering on his lips. Neither of you says anything, which unsettles you.

“Did you sleep okay?” you ask, the question coming out more hurriedly than intended.

“I drifted in and out for most of the night. It’s hard to get comfortable,” he admits, "I think I could still hear a lot around me. It felt like someone was holding my hand for a few minutes too, but I’m not sure how much of it was real or just dreams, though.”

Oh shit. You weren't expecting that answer.

The possibility that Taehyung might have heard you talking to him last night shouldn't be that embarrassing, yet your mind races with thoughts of what he might have heard or understood in his semi-conscious state. Not only did you share more than you probably should have, but you also touched his hand to feel his pulse, and he felt it.

“Well, um, I'm sorry to hear you had a rough night. You should rest more,” you suggest, trying to compose yourself. "I should get going anyway and let you sleep.” You begin standing from your seat but don't get far before the gentlest of touches brush against your wrist. When you look at Taehyung, he quickly retracts his fingers, concerned he overstepped.

"Shit, I'm sorry, __. I didn't mean to grab at you like that," he says softly. "It's just...would you mind staying with me a little longer, please? I'd really appreciate the company."

You can hear the yearning in his request. It's clear that he doesn't want to be alone, and you don't blame him, especially after the accident he's endured. Settling back into the chair, you agree to stay a bit longer, perhaps another half hour, before heading home; you realize you haven't eaten lunch yet.

"So, how are you doing?" he asks. "We haven't talked in bit."

His question triggers a flood of thoughts, the most recent interaction with your ex-husband being one of them. Up until now, you've managed to push his drunken call out of your mind, preferring to focus on Taehyung instead. However, Jungkook's unexpected confession still throws you for a loop. It's not that you're riddled with the need for clarity on its validity, especially since you don't believe him anyway. How could he claim to love you when he also admits he doesn't understand his own feelings? On top of that, being drunk while doing so—it doesn't make sense.

No, the real question now is what happens next. How do you proceed? Will he try to reach out again? The way he asked if you still loved him before you ended the call weighs on your mind even now.

You know you'll need to discuss this with Melody during your next therapy session.

Before you spiral further, you decide to steer the conversation away from personal matters and opt for a safer topic.

"The company is doing well," you reply with a smile. "The new campaigns we've put out recently have been pretty successful. Although," you add, a hint of curiosity in your tone, "the team has missed your frequent drop-ins, especially Namjoon." If you're honest with yourself, you've missed them too.

"How is he? Namjoon?"

"He's okay, but he's been concerned for you," you answer carefully. "When we heard the news, we came to see you together, but he was quite affected. He promised to visit once you woke up."

"So," Taehyung takes a moment to process. "That was this morning, right?"

"No, actually, it was yesterday."

There's a brief, awkward silence as you sense Taehyung might be thinking the same thing you are—about your presence last night. Surprisingly, he doesn't bring it up. Instead, he eyes you curiously, biting down on his lip slightly.

"I meant to stop by last week," he admits. "But we were wrapping up the final scenes of my film shoots. The producers were eager to finish them. I'm just thankful we got them done. I wanted to spend a day riding my bike along a scenic route until... well, until all of this happened. I don't remember much, but I'm just grateful Tan wasn't with me."

"Tan?" you ask, curious now.

"Yeontan, my pomeranian," Taehyung explains with a soft smile. "He means the world to me. My parents take care of him when I'm busy with filming. I was actually planning to drive up and visit them this weekend. And, of course, bring Tan back home with me. They live pretty far from here, so it's better that I go up to them if I can."

Well, that answers the question about his parents not being here yet, you think to yourself.

As Taehyung speaks, you can see a flicker of fondness and relief in his eyes when he mentions his dog. It must have been months since he last saw him.

"I bet you miss him a lot," you comment softly, "Tan."

"I do," he admits with a slight smile, "but I know he's being well taken care of. Hopefully, I can see him soon. And my parents too."

"I understand that feeling," you reply, nodding thoughtfully. "Pets have a way of becoming family, don't they? I had a cat named Evie when I was growing up. She was a feisty little thing with green eyes, always getting into mischief. We got her from the streets and she was so slim, but it didn't take her long to beef up with all the treats we gave her. Whenever I was feeling down, she would curl up next to me, as if she knew. It's funny how they have that kind of intuition, isn't it?"

Taehyung listens intently, a small smile playing on his lips. You feel a slight flush of embarrassment at your tangent. It's one of the few times you've shared something personal about yourself that wasn't work-related. Feeling like you might have overshared, you decide to stop, assuming Taehyung isn't interested in knowing that much.

You chuckle inwardly at yourself.

Jungkook was your husband for three years, and he never seemed to care about such personal details.

I—" you start, intending to apologize, but Taehyung interrupts.

"Did you have any other pets?" he asks, curiosity piqued.

You chuckle softly, reminiscing. "Yeah, we had... uh, god, you don't want to know how many pets we had."

"Try me," his eyes become playful, yet there's a seriousness behind them, like he really wants to know. It's unfamiliar.

"Alright," you chuckle, "aside from Evie, there were three other cats. Calvin and Misha were the adventurous ones, always climbing trees, while Pip was the cuddly lap cat. Then there were two dogs: Toby, our sneaky Chihuahua, and Bella, a terrier who growled at everyone. Oh, and we had three rabbits too. Cute, but also feisty."

Taehyung laughs, "I sense a theme going on."

"What theme?"

"Well," he grins, "It seems like your household was filled with some strong main characters."

You chuckle at his joke. "Yeah, our house was never quiet, that's for sure. Each one had their own personality and quirks."

"You don't have any now though? Pets, I mean," Taehyung asks.

"Sadly, I don't," you reply with a hint of regret. "The company takes up a lot of my time, and I don't think it would be right to leave a pet alone for extended periods. I might consider getting another cat, but right now, focusing on running the company leaves me with little spare time. I miss having them around though."

Taehyung mulls over your word carefully. “If I ever get out of this hospital...maybe I—”

Before he has the chance to finish, the hospital room door opens, and Dr. Min enters, his expression serious yet composed. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, not expecting to see you still here and Taehyung awake. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he begins, glancing between you and his patient. “It’s good to see you up and looking a bit better."

Dr. Min approaches Taehyung's side, opposite to you. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

Taehyung's demeanor shifts instantly, his playful expression fading as he turns to answer. “Pretty sore, honestly,” he replies.

Dr. Min nods. “Let’s run a few checks to see how you’re doing.”

Sensing this is your cue to leave, you rise from your chair and reach out to touch Taehyung's hand. But you stop yourself short. Something about performing the physical action while he’s fully conscious instills a flutter of nerves within you. Instead, you gently tap his shoulder, causing him to meet your eyes. “I think I'll be going now, but it was nice talking to you,” you say softly. "Was there something you wanted to say earlier, though?"

He pauses for a moment before replying, his expression reminiscent of the time a few weeks ago when you declined his dinner invitation. You still don’t understand why he seemed somewhat disappointed; it's not like it was a date. He had made it clear he wanted to go out as colleagues. The only reason you declined was because you didn’t want him feeling pity for you, or the struggles that came with the divorce.

"It's okay, we'll have to save that conversation for another time," Taehyung's voice brings you back to the present. "Enjoy the rest of your day, __. Thanks again for staying with me."

"Of course," you reply, then turn to Dr. Min. "If you wouldn't mind letting me know when and if he can be discharged, I'd appreciate it. And Kim Namjoon too, since we're both nearby." Dr. Min nods in agreement. With that, you sling your bag over your shoulder and exit the room.

“He said what?!” Your best friend Jimin almost shouts through the video call, eyes wide with disbelief. You’ve just finished recounting your ex-husband's unexpected, drunken confession from the previous night. Jimin, who already holds a deep-seated grudge against Jungkook, looks livid.

“He had the nerve to say that to you? While he was drunk?” Jimin continues, his hands clenching into fists.

You nod, feeling a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “Yeah, I told him not to call my number again and he hasn't contacted me since.” As expected, he likely forgot all about it.

“Good,” Jimin declares with a fierce protectiveness, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You don’t need that kind of drama in your life, especially not from him. And if he even thinks about calling you again, just say the word, and I'll come down there and handle it personally.” He emphasizes 'personally' with such intensity that it makes you giggle for the first time tonight.

“Thanks, Jimin,” you say, a warm feeling spreading through you at his unwavering support. “I’m just trying to move on, focus on work, and other things.”

Jimin’s expression softens, and he nods firmly. “You're incredibly strong, __. Are you really okay though? It was a huge blow for him to make a confession like that and even though I dislike him, I know you still have some lingering feelings for him. I'm not a fool to believe you're unaffected.”

You take a deep breath, appreciating your best friend's perceptiveness. “It’s complicated. I’m trying so hard to move past everything, especially with Melody's help, and then he just…throws that at me. It’s like he’s trying to pull me back into his mess.”

Jimin’s eyes are filled with concern. “You don’t owe him anything. Remember that. He made his choices, and you have every right to move on without his baggage.”

“I know,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “It’s just…easier said than done. But I’m working on it.”

“You’re doing great,” Jimin reassures, his voice gentle. “And you have every right to focus on yourself now. Don’t let him mess with your head.”

You nod, feeling a bit lighter with the support. “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”

“I'm always here for you love,” he says, his protective demeanor softening into a warm smile. “Now, enough about that idiot. How’s everything else? Work? Taehyung? Everyone at the office is talking about his unfortunate accident, poor sucker.”

At the mention of your colleague, you feel a sudden heat rise to your cheeks. Did the heaters in your apartment just turn up or something?

“He’s slowly recovering," you answer. "I saw him this morning and we talked for a bit. He’s... he’s been through a lot.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow, “You saw him yesterday too, right? And if my memory serves, you were at the hospital with him until the afternoon. I remember I texted you to see if you were free to call earlier than planned. Something you'd like to tell me?” A teasing grin suddenly spreads across his face, and you shake your head, knowing exactly what he's insinuating. It's like talking to Dr. Min all over again.

“Seriously, Chim, no, it's not like that," you deny instantly, heart racing a little. "He's been my company endorser for a little over six months now, and he’s been nothing but kind to me. With everything he’s been through, I just want to make sure he'll be okay. I feel somewhat responsible for him. Maybe I'm crazy.”

“Responsibility, huh?” Jimin smirks, unconvinced of your denial. “Sure. Because ‘responsibility’ usually makes people blush.”

You wave off his suspicions, a nervous chuckle escaping you. “I’m not, so if you wouldn't mind ceasing your teasing, that'd be great."

“Okay, okay,” Jimin chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But if you ask me, it sounds like more than just responsibility. Taehyung seems like a sweet guy, and you care about him. And I sense he feels the same way about you. Don't think I forgot about his little dinner request weeks back.”

You chuckle, brushing off his suspicions. “Oh, come on, enough. Believing that Kim Taehyung has any kind of interest in me is like believing that Jungkook loves me. It’s unfathomable. Taehyung's a colleague, that’s all.”

“Okay, excuse me? Unfathomable?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “Someone help! My best friend is selling themselves short, again. __, you’re amazing, and anyone, including Taehyung, would be lucky to have you. That ex-husband of yours was an idiot, but just because he couldn't see what he had doesn’t mean others can’t.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but Jimin’s words hit a soft spot. “Chim, you're sweet, but I'm just saying that Taehyung is on a completely different level. I’m just me... a 30-year-old divorcee with a half-decent startup.” Those alone are enough to have any man steer clear of you.

“Stop this, __. You're much more than that, and it's pretty damn incredible,” Jimin insists, his voice firm. “You’ve been through so much, and you’re still standing. That’s not something to brush off. Taehyung sees that. Anyone with half a brain can see that.”

You sigh, feeling a mixture of gratitude and skepticism. “I appreciate it, Chim. But let’s just drop it, please?”

“Alright, I won't push it," he concedes gently, "just know I’m here whenever you need.”

“Thanks, Jimin,” you reply, feeling a warmth in your heart. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably explode from all that bottled-up stress,” he jokes, making you laugh again. “But seriously, you’re doing great. Just keep taking it one step at a time, and call me if you need anything!”

As the call ends, you’re left with a lot to think about. Jimin’s words echo in your mind, and for a brief second, you find yourself wondering if maybe your best friend is right—that perhaps you do care about your colleague more than you’re willing to admit.

Well, either way, it doesn't matter; you've got enough on your plate as it is.

Starting with the stack of papers laid out on the coffee table, work you brought home that's awaiting your attention. It's a critical deal for your startup, one that could secure much-needed funding and propel your business to the next level.

Sighing softly, you reach for your laptop and open the latest project proposal.

You start your Sunday as you always do, with a book in hand, heading to your favorite café. It’s a ritual that’s been with you since your teenage years, and today, you feel a desperate need for its familiar comfort. After wrapping up the project proposal late into the night, your brain craved a break.

Entering the quaint café, you’re greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Finding a cozy spot by the large window, you settle in for a day of reading, occasionally looking up to observe people passing by outside.

Hours slip away unnoticed in the serene atmosphere, lost in the pages of your book. Somewhere along the way, mid-sentence, your thoughts subconsciously drift to a conversation with Taehyung weeks before his accident—the day of your six-month anniversary.

You remember how he mentioned his interest in books that day, leaving you curious about what he enjoys reading. You imagine he might be into classic authors like Charles Dickens or Oscar Wilde. Then again, you might be mistaken.

Refocusing on your book, you manage to read another paragraph before thoughts of Taehyung intrude again. Did he have any company today? You quietly hope Namjoon paid him a visit. "Okay, __, calm down," you tell yourself, "Taehyung will be fine, and Namjoon definitely would have visited him now that he's awake." With a determined effort, you return to your book.

It isn't until the sun begins its descent that you decide it's time to pack up your things and head home. Passing by the hospital on your way, a sense of restlessness tugs at you once more. Should you stop and see Taehyung, even if only for a few minutes? The thought lingers, but then you recall Dr. Min's pending update on his discharge status. Maybe it's best to wait for his confirmation.

You continue driving, but the concern refuses to leave your mind. Eventually, you make a decisive turn, heading back towards the hospital. It wouldn't be as lengthy as last time—just a quick visit to check on how he's doing.

When you arrive at the hospital, you hesitate for a moment outside the entrance. It's Sunday evening, and visiting hours are likely limited. You check your phone quickly to see if Dr. Min has sent any updates, but there's nothing new.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to go in anyway.

Taehyung is awake when the nurse leads you to his room, casually flipping through a magazine. He looks up, his expression softening into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hey," you say softly, stepping inside. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. I hope it's okay."

"It's more than okay," he replies warmly, setting the magazine aside. "I'm happy to see you."

You nod, feeling relieved that he isn't disturbed by your presence.

"Though, in all honesty," he continues, "I didn't expect you back today."

"I just wanted to check on you and make sure you're okay," you admit quietly, taking a seat nearby. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm better, just a bit sore still," he says sincerely, his gaze meeting yours. "What about you? How's your Sunday been?"

"Quiet," you respond with a small smile. "Spent most of it reading at a café, and then decided to stop by here."

"Really?" His interest piqued, he asks, "Which one? Sometimes I do the same thing when I have some free time. Or, I'll read at the beach too. It's relaxing."

"Well, have you tried the one on Willow Street? I've been a regular there since I was 16."

"No... I'm not familiar with that one," he admits, "I usually go to the one on 5th."

"5th? You know, I don't recall a café on 5th, unless..." you pause, realization dawning, "oh no," you blurt out unintentionally.

"What?" Taehyung's eyes twinkle with amusement at your spontaneous reaction. "Have you been?"

You hesitate to answer, not wanting to risk offending him.

"Yes..."

"And?" Crap, you were hoping he wouldn't ask for details.

"Um... it's okay," you reply simply.

"What? Just okay?" Taehyung exclaims, feigning offense. "Their coffee and tea are decent, and they have those comfy armchairs by the window."

"I know, but there's just something about it," you reply with a playful shrug. "Maybe it's the lighting, or maybe I'm just picky."

"Fair enough," he chuckles. "Maybe I'll check out this Willow Street café sometime. You've been going there for years, so it must be good."

"Well, I highly recommend it." You can't help but feel a bit smug, though you try to keep a straight face. It's just nice to have someone take your suggestion seriously. "You'll have to tell me your review of the place if you go."

Taehyung nods thoughtfully in reply, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of admiration. You look away, pretending to straighten your jacket. Why is he staring like that? You're not used to being looked at without some sense of hostility.

Just as you begin to feel a bit awkward, the door swings open, and a nurse peeks inside.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says kindly, "but visiting hours are over for the evening."

You glance at your watch, surprised at how quickly time has flown. "Oh, okay," you reply, a touch disappointed. "I'll be heading out then, thank you."

Once the nurse leaves, you direct your focus back to Taehyung. He smiles understandingly, sitting up a bit straighter. "Thanks for stopping by," he says warmly.

"Yeah, of course," you reply, gathering your things. "Did Dr. Min mention having you discharged any time soon?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing yet. Might be here for a couple more days."

You nod, feeling sympathy for his extended stay. "Well, take care of yourself, okay? Let me know if you need anything."

"I will," Taehyung assures you with a grateful smile. He watches as you make your way to the door, but just before you can twist the metal knob, he speaks up agian. "Uhm...if you have time tomorrow, I wouldn't mind if you came in again. It was nice to...chat."

For the first time, Taehyung seems to stumble over his words. As someone who's naturally charismatic, not to mention a skilled actor, there's a hint of nervousness in his voice.

When you turn your head to glance back at him, his smile has faded, replaced by a hopeful look, hands gently clutching the blankets.

"Sure," you agree to his innocent request, somehow unable to resist. "I'll try to stop in tomorrow if I can."

His boxy smile returns instantly as he bids you one final goodnight.

As you walk out of the room, that same smile lingers in your mind—you're glad you decided to come by.

In the days that follow, you find yourself at Taehyung's hospital bed every evening after work. Initially fulfilling his wishes, you gradually realize you've grown fond of his company. Taehyung turns out to be easy to talk to, a good listener who encourages questions you wouldn't normally ask within office walls. Here you are again, immersed in yet another spontaneous conversation that neither of you minds.

"So, what's it really like?" you inquire, curiosity lacing your voice. "Being an actor? And what about kissing strangers? I've heard some co-stars end up together after playing an onscreen couple for so long."

Taehyung chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Being an actor is both exhilarating and challenging," he begins, reflecting on his experiences. "Kissing scenes... well, they're not as glamorous as they seem on screen. There are a lot of technical aspects to consider, like camera angles and timing. As for getting involved with co-stars outside of filming, I wouldn't be familiar with that. I prefer to keep those lines pretty separate."

You listen intently, fascinated by his insights into a world so different from your own. But one thing sticks out to you—how does he handle kissing scenes if he were to be in a relationship? Wouldn't that get complicated?

"I often wonder what I'd do if I had a partner," Taehyung muses suddenly, his voice thoughtful, as if sensing your unspoken question. "About the kiss scenes, I mean. I haven't actually dated for a while." Really? You think, he cant be serious...

"I'd imagine they'd be understanding since it's part of the job," you offer, trying to match his contemplative tone.

"Is that how you'd respond?" Taehyung's question catches you off guard.

"Me?" you ask, feeling slightly dumbfounded.

"Yeah, I'm just curious. Would you be okay with that?"

"Uhm... well, honestly, probably not," you admit, feeling a bit awkward. "I think I'd have a hard time wrapping my mind around it. I'd kind of feel like I was sharing my partner. I don't want to share like that."

Shut up, shut up, shut up, you mentally chastise yourself. You definitely said too much.

To your surprise, Taehyung merely gives a small smile in response. "I think I'd feel the same," he says softly.

The subject ends there, as the conversation soon shifts to his latest project instead—a romantic comedy series titled with a playful nod to a four-leaf clover.

"You know, I've never seen a four-leaf clover in my life," you admit with a slight chuckle.

Taehyung laughs softly, his eyes brightening. "Really? They're supposed to bring good luck, you know."

"Good luck, huh? I guess I've never had the pleasure," you replied with a grin.

"Well, then it's settled," he declared with a playful glint in his eyes. "I'll find one for you once I'm out of here," he promises warmly.

You smile, exchanging a silent moment before hitting him with your next question. "Do you watch your own shows or movies?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Taehyung's expression shifts subtly, his gaze momentarily distant. "Honestly, I don't," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "I guess I've always felt a bit awkward seeing myself on screen. It's strange, right?"

You reassure him with a smile. "It's not so far-fetched, but I don't think there's anything to be embarrassed about. You're talented, Taehyung. I'm sure your performances are amazing."

Taehyung nods thoughtfully but then quirks an eyebrow at you. "But have you actually seen any of my work? It's a little cheesy."

You hesitate, feeling a touch sheepish. "Honestly, no," you confess. "I've never watched any of your shows or movies. But I will!"

A flicker of déjà vu crosses Taehyung's face, his expression turning thoughtful. "That's funny," he murmurs. "I feel like I've heard those exact words before, recently."

You chuckle nervously, trying to lighten the mood. He can't be referring to that night you spoke to him while he was asleep, right? "Maybe it's just a sign that I need to catch up on all the great acting I've been missing out on," you quip, hoping to diffuse any awkwardness.

Taehyung grins, his playful demeanor returning. "Well, I'll hold you to that. You'll have to give me your honest review."

"Deal," you agree with a nod. "So, as much as I hate to cut this short, I think I'm going to have to get going now."

"I understand, it's past 6:30 pm. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," you reply warmly. "Get some rest."

By Thursday afternoon, you finally receive the long-awaited call from Dr. Min, informing you that Taehyung will be discharged the next morning. You're relieved that Taehyung is healthy enough to continue his recovery at home. Seeing him yesterday, he looked the best he's been since his accident. However, a small part of you feels annoyed that Dr. Min didn't call you—he called Namjoon instead.

It was an ordinary afternoon when your secretary's phone rang. Namjoon was crouched over at his desk, concentrating on a number of spreadsheets just moments before. You remember leaping over to him as soon as you heard the words, "he's ready for discharge tomorrow," leave his lips.

It's now Friday morning, and you're standing in front of your secretary's desk.

"So, you're off to pick up Taehyung now?" you ask, as casually as you can. You do your best to ignore the lingering irritation growing inside you.

"Yeah," your secretary finally replies, glancing up from his screen. "I'll drive over to the hospital in about half an hour."

"Okay." You nod, biting your tongue. So what if Namjoon gets to pick him up instead of you? It's fine, you should get over it.

It's just a little odd that Dr. Min chose to call Namjoon instead of you though. You know for a fact you've been much more involved with Taehyung's well-being than he has.

Of course, Taehyung and Namjoon are good friends, but your secretary has only gone to see him twice over the past week his buddy's been in the hospital. You've been there every day, so wouldn't it make sense that you be called first?

Evidently not.

Namjoon will be taking Taehyung home, and you likely won't be seeing him at all today. In fact, you're not even sure when you'll see him next. Technically, you have his address stored away in an HR file, but you're no creep. And you most certainly are not about to show up at his place unannounced.

It's not like Taehyung has texted you today either. Not even a quick update on his condition.

"Um..." Namjoon starts, shifting awkwardly in his chair. "Is there something else you wanted to say? I feel like you're kinda hovering over me now, to be quite honest."

"Oh, sorry," you respond, stepping back a bit. You didn't realize you were staring at him, wordless, for longer than normal. "Nothing else. Drive safe."

As if seeing right through you, Namjoon's expression softens. "If you want to see how Taehyung is, you can just text him. I'm sure he'll respond to you."

"No, it's okay," you quickly dismiss the suggestion. You don't want to bombard a man who's just getting out of the hospital with your texts. You'll leave him alone to rest.

Namjoon gives you a knowing look, eyeing your slightly hesitant state. "I'm serious, boss. Text him. You've been at his side this entire week, so if there's anyone who'd be more deserving of knowing what's up, it’d be you."

Deserving? That's a bit far, is it not? Yes, you've been visiting him, but it's not like you saved his life or anything. It's not that big of a deal. You just wanted to...make sure he was okay.

"I—When did you decide to call me boss again?" you switch subjects, but Namjoon remains unaffected.

"Text him," Namjoon says for the final time before reaching for his keys in his desk drawer. "I gotta get going, but I'll be back after I drop Tae off."

"Tae?" You haven't heard him called that before.

"Yeah, it's kinda a pet name. Sorry, I started calling him that once we became friends, so it slips out here and there. It's like second nature now."

"Got it," you nod, a bit disappointed. Maybe you weren't as close to Taehyung as you thought. "Make sure he gets home okay," you finish.

"I will." Namjoon gets up from his desk and heads out of the office. You turn around and return to your own office once he's out of sight.

While Namjoon is out, his phone rings incessantly. You find yourself getting up from your desk multiple times to take calls. By the afternoon, you're exhausted from the constant interruptions.

Maybe you should consider giving the poor man a raise.

Before the thought fully develops, his phone rings again. You don't even bother checking the caller ID anymore; you simply pick up the phone and answer in your sweetest voice.

"__? I thought I’d be hearing Namjoon first... hey," his voice is hesitant. "I hope I’m not interrupting anything."

"Jungkook," you reply cautiously, instantly recognizing his voice. "Why are you calling my work phone?"

"I... I didn't know how else to reach you. Can I come in or can you come into the parking lot? I have something to give you."

You pause, feeling a rush of unease. You haven’t spoken to Jungkook since last Friday when he called you out of the blue. Honestly, you hoped you wouldn’t hear from him, especially after telling him not to call again. It's strange that he keeps finding ways to show up unexpectedly.

"What is it you need to give me, Jungkook?" you ask bluntly, "I'm very busy."

There’s a brief silence on the other end before he answers, "It’s... It’s something personal. I’d rather not discuss it over the phone. Please, can you just come down for a moment?"

You weigh your options, torn between curiosity and apprehension. His unpredictability lately has left you unsure of what to expect. "Jungkook, I really don’t think—"

"Please," he interrupts, his voice sounding more urgent. "I promise it won’t take long."

Taking a deep breath, you decide to handle this with as much grace as you can muster. "Fine. I’ll be down in a minute."

You end the call and sit back, trying to steady your thoughts. His sudden request feels odd, and part of you worries about what he might say or do next. As you make your way to the parking lot, you mentally prepare yourself for another potentially difficult encounter.

When you arrive, Jungkook stands near his car, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His usual confident demeanor seems replaced by a sense of unease.

"Hey," he starts, his voice tentative, "thanks for agreeing to meet."

You give a brief nod, keeping your tone neutral. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

Jungkook shifts awkwardly, his gaze dropping momentarily before meeting yours. "I wanted to apologize," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for calling you up drunk."

You feel a flicker of irritation. This is what he wanted to give you? An apology that's seven days late? You figured he would have just forgone the apology by now.

"Why now?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, a defense mechanism you've developed. "It's been a week. I’m not sure if you realize that or not though."

"I know," he says quickly, his eyes earnest. "I wanted to come sooner, but I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me or just never hear from me again."

You scoff slightly, "Well, for the first time, you are completely right. I don't want to see you, Jungkook." You try to keep your voice steady, but the raw edges of your emotions bleed through. There’s no point sugarcoating it at this stage; he’ll just keep pushing your boundaries if you don’t become firm with him.

He winces at your words, nodding slowly. "You have every right to feel that way. I messed up, big time. I just wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry. You deserve someone who isn't as screwed up as I am. But I still mean everything I said that night. I do love you. It took me until now to realize that, apparently."

You sigh, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Love? Now? After everything? Somehow, it feels more like a burden than anything.

"Jungkook, love isn't a get-out-of-jail-free card," you say slowly, your voice somewhat shaky. "It's not something you can just throw out there to fix things. Not only did you divorce me, but you also led me to believe we could actually be something. All those weeks of you being attentive and showing up for me after I shared my feelings made me believe that you were honestly trying to make our marriage work, that you were committed. You lied to me, discarded me, and now that I'm not around, you suddenly miss me? No, I'm sorry. You broke my trust, and that's not something you can just apologize away."

You pause, feeling the weight of your words settle in the tense air between you and Jungkook.

He looks down, nodding again. "I get it. I really do. And I don't expect you to forgive me or anything. I just wanted you to know that I understand how much I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I understand if you hate me."

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions threatening to stir inside. "Jungkook," you begin carefully, meeting his eyes. "What happened between us was painful. You calling me drunk last week was also painful. I'm sorry about the challenges you had with your parents, but it's no excuse to put that on others. If you need someone to discuss personal matters with, I suggest you see a professional."

You pause, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"I don't hate you, okay? I'm not that cold-hearted. There's still part of me that I think might always hold space for you, but I can't just forget everything. I need to move on, and that means you can't keep calling me at random times. It’s not fair to either of us. I appreciate the apology, but I don't think we can go much further."

He nods solemnly, understanding your stance. "Okay," Jungkook replies softly, his voice filled with a sadness you hadn’t expected. "I understand. I'll respect your wishes and leave you alone. Take care of yourself, okay? I...I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me," he says, his eyes earnest. "And... I'm really sorry for everything."

He begins to back away toward his car, and as he does, it hits you—it’s over.

"Take care, Jungkook," you say gently. "Don't overwork yourself, alright? Stay healthy."

He looks at you, forcing a smile. "You know I can't do that. It isn't in my blood." He sings the last part, referencing a song you both used to joke about, and you let out a small chuckle despite yourself.

"God, Jeon, I thought you'd stop with that song by now." you say, shaking your head.

"Nah," he replies, shaking his head with a faint grin as he opens his car door. "I'm taking it to my grave. I'll see you later, __."

You know the last part is a lie, an empty promise to soften the blow. Still, you respond, "Yeah, see you."

With that, you part ways in the parking lot, each going your separate ways. As you walk back to your office, the weight of the finality settles in. It's all over, you think, feeling the sting of a single tear trailing down your cheek. Unbeknownst to you, a similar tear streams down Jungkook's face as he drives away, each tear falling for completely different reasons.

Two weeks pass, and Jungkook keeps his word. He hasn’t called, texted, or shown up at your work. It’s as if he’s become a stranger, someone you once knew but is now part of a distant past.

Your days begin to regain a sense of normalcy. The emotional weight of the past few months slowly starts to lift, allowing you to refocus on your work and personal well-being. The company demands your attention, and you dive into projects, meetings, and strategies with a renewed energy.

Yet, despite the return to routine, there's a persistent sense of something missing. You haven’t talked to Taehyung at all since he got discharged from the hospital. You haven’t seen him either, and the silence pulls at you more each day.

Every time you try to get information about him from Namjoon, he gives you the same response: "Just text him. Don’t overthink it; he’ll be glad to hear from you." Once, you sensed that Namjoon wanted to say more but stopped himself short, making the excuse that it wasn’t for him to say. Whatever that meant.

You’re on your way home from running errands when the thought enters your mind for the umpteenth time: should you text Taehyung?

You’re torn between respecting his privacy and wanting to check in on him. He hasn’t reached out, so maybe he’s trying to distance himself or just needs time to recover alone, now that he’s in the comfort of his own home. On the other hand, you can’t shake the feeling that checking in would be the right thing to do.

As you approach your apartment building, you pull over into a quiet parking spot, letting your car idle. Gripping your phone, you take a deep breath and finally decide to text him.

You: Hey, Taehyung. I hope you’re doing well. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling. Let me know if you need anything. We still miss you at the office!

You stare at the message for a moment before hitting send. The butterflies in your stomach flutter as you wait. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he doesn't want to hear from you?

You end up deleting the message entirely.

Forget it, you think, if he wanted to hear from you he would have texted by now, right? Just leave it alone. You said you'd support him while he was in the hospital and you did. Now he needs his space to finish healing. He'll reach out when he's ready.

Your phone buzzes the next minute, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glance at it, half hoping that Taehyung was secretly telepathic. But it isn’t from him. Instead, it’s a notification from a friend inviting you to a small get-together this coming weekend.

Smiling, you accept the invitation.

Turns out your friend's get-together was a singles mixer. Unsurprisingly, you weren't approached much, if at all. It seemed the men were either too nervous, still associating you with your ex-husband, or not quite into accomplished women. That didn't stop them from ogling you, though, as your friend insisted that you dress for the affair. You didn't choose anything flashy, but it was certainly flattering.

Leaving without a phone number didn't bother you, though. At thirty years old, most of the people were younger than you, including your friend who was a couple of years younger. Plus, you found your mind often wandering to the one man you hadn't heard from in nearly three weeks—Kim Taehyung. Should you stop overthinking and finally listen to Namjoon's suggestion? Maybe it's time to contact him.

Lost in thought on your drive home, you snap back to reality when you slam on the brakes at a sudden red light. Damn, you hadn't noticed it change so quickly. Shaking off any lingering daze, you refocus and spot a man crossing the street ahead, a little dog trotting beside him on a leash.

"Taehyung," you whisper to yourself. "What is he doing out here, especially on this slipper—shit!"

Your heart skips a beat as Taehyung stumbles on the ice, struggling to keep his balance. Concerned, you pull up to the side of the road as soon as the light turns green, parking quickly and jumping out of your car to rush over to him. He leans against a brick building, his dog, Tan, yelping at your approach. Cute little guy, but you're focus is on Taehyung.

"Damn," he mutters, trying to steady himself. His eyes widen when he catches sight of you. "__, I—" he begins.

"What are you doing, Kim Taehyung?" you scold gently. "Are you trying to hurt yourself again?"

Taehyung meets your gaze, his Gucci scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. "No," he replies earnestly. "I just needed some fresh air. It's been nearly three weeks since I was discharged, and Dr. Min said short walks with Tan are okay now. My parents were here for a while, but they left this weekend."

His explanation sinks in as you take in his appearance. Despite the chill in the air, he looks better than the last time you saw him. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the cold, and there's a determination in his eyes that wasn't there before.

"You should be more careful," you reply softly, stepping closer to him. Tan, sensing the shift in attention, continues to bark happily, tail wagging. "Are you okay? My car is right here, if you need me to take you home or anything."

Taehyung nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I know, I know. Sorry for worrying you." He gestures to Tan, who is now circling around your legs in excitement. "Tan here doesn't seem to mind the ice at all, and surprisingly, he doesn't mind you either."

You chuckle softly, crouching down to pet the little dog. "Is he usually this friendly?"

"Not at first, no," Taehyung replies, his tone lighter now. He glances down at you, his eyes softening. "I'm glad I ran into you, though. It's been...a while."

You nod, standing to your feet. "It has. I'm glad to see you're doing better."

"I am," he affirms, his gaze steady on yours. "Thanks to you, mostly. You were there for me when I needed it the most."

"Oh, come on," you say, waving off the comment. "I didn't do that much."

Taehyung's smile widens, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You did more than you realize."

You feel a slight blush creeping up your cheeks at his words, but you maintain eye contact, appreciating the warmth in his gaze. The longer you stand there, staring at each other, the uneasier you feel. Perhaps you shouldn't ask the question that's been on your mind, but it slips out before you can stop it.

"Why didn't you call?" you ask, surprising both yourself and Taehyung as he simultaneously voices the exact same question.

Taken aback by the simultaneous question, you both chuckle nervously, breaking the tension. Taehyung scratches the back of his neck, sheepish.

"I thought about it every day," he admits, his voice quiet but sincere. "But I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear from me. I already took so much of your time, and I didn't want to ask more from you. So, I asked Namjoon to pick me up from the hospital. I thought maybe it would be better for me to wait for you to reach out and focus on recovering."

You nod, understanding flooding your expression. "I felt quite similar. I thought maybe you asked Namjoon because he's your friend. I didn't want to hound you when you just got released from the hospital, so I decided to let you recover in peace. I guess in the end, I was also waiting for you to reach out with an update of some kind."

Taehyung takes a few seconds to fully absorb your words before replying. "I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes reflecting genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I was avoiding you. I would have been more than happy with you picking me up instead of Namjoon. I realize that I should have at least reached out to update you instead of going silent. I'd like to think of you as my friend too. But I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and I just didn't want to burden you." His gaze becomes downcast as he stares at the ground beneath him.

You're unsure where you find the courage, but you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, gently lifting his face so he meets your eyes. You have to stand on your tiptoes a bit, which he finds endearing.

"I’d like to consider you my friend too, and that means you shouldn't worry about burdening me anymore, Tae," you say softly, your touch lingering momentarily on his face, caught up in the moment. When you realize what you've done, you pull back slightly, flustered. "Um… sorry, I didn't mean to call you that."

"It's okay," he responds, his voice gentle. "I don't mind. You can call me Tae from now on if you'd like. Also, you're not a burden either, you never were to me."

You're speechless for a second before replying. "So, friends then?" you ask. "No more mixed signals and reaching out when we want?"

"I mean, I’d like that as long as you do too," he confirms with a warm smile, though his eyes say there's more that he's left unsaid. You don't notice, however.

"Text me whenever you have something on your mind," he continues.

"I will," you promise. “You too.”

"Definitely.” Taehyung pauses, glancing down at Tan who's decided to lay down by his feet. "So, I was going to take a walk with Tan at the park nearby. Any chance you'd like to join me?" His gaze shifts back to you, hopeful yet uncertain.

"I'd like that," you reply genuinely. "But we're taking my car over, so you don't break a hip on this ice, old man."

Taehyung's mouth gapes open as he shakes his head. "How many times do I need to tell you? I'm only two years older than you. Two!"

It's surreal.

How much you and Taehyung have started becoming friends, that is.

Almost two months have already passed, and it feels like just yesterday you were merely colleagues, you his boss.

Saturdays have become your day with Taehyung now. While part of you insists it's to prevent him from slipping on the ice again, deep down, you both know there's more to it now that he's almost fully recovered from his injuries.

Each weekend, you find yourselves exploring different parks and streets, swapping childhood stories, and sharing laughter over the dumbest things. Today, however, would be different. With rain threatening to drench the city, Taehyung suggested a change of plans—a cozy movie day indoors. Little did he know, you had a surprise in store for him.

You dash up to the front door, a bag of homemade food in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

Taehyung opens the door with a grin, holding his own umbrella. "Hey! Perfect timing," he chuckles, taking the umbrella from you and gesturing inside. "Come in. It's freezing out there today."

You step inside, shaking off the raindrops and removing your shoes. The warmth of his home envelopes you, a comforting contrast to the chilly rain outside.

"I brought something," you announce, holding up the bag. "Guess what it is?"

Taehyung looks at you curiously, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. "Hmm," he muses, pretending to ponder. "Knowing you, it's probably my favorite spicy chicken wings from that place near your office."

"Very close, Tae. Except these chicken wings were made by your favorite person in the whole world," you tease, handing him the bag with a grin.

Taehyung's eyes lit up as he takes the bag from you. "No way," he says, a mix of disbelief and excitement in his voice. "You made them yourself? You're the best, __. Seriously."

"It's the least I could do," you reply with a smile, following him into the living room where the TV flickers. "Besides, it's pouring out there. Movie day with good food seems like the perfect plan."

"Absolutely," he agrees, setting the food down on the coffee table. "I was thinking we could start with that new action flick I heard about."

"Aww, but I thought you said we could watch one of your movies instead?" you argue playfully, sinking into the couch. Tan bounds over, wagging his tail in excitement at the prospect of company. You scratch behind his ears while Taehyung sets up the movie.

"What? I don't remember saying that. Was I drunk that day?" he jokes.

"Well... maybe?" you tease back.

"I told you, __, I don't like watching my own films. It's weird, and half the time it's me kissing the female lead. You're going to need to watch those on your own time," he quips, his tone more serious than intended. The truth is, he really would rather not be there when you watch him kiss his co-stars.

"Alright, alright, getting aggressive over there," you chuckle, not seeing the faint rosy tint that's crept up on his cheeks. "We'll watch the action movie."

As the opening scenes roll, you can't help but steal glances at Taehyung. Despite the seriousness of his recent health issues, he seems more at ease today, a genuine smile gracing his face as he takes a seat beside you. It feels good to see him like this, relaxed and feeling more like himself.

Halfway through the movie, he nudges you gently. "Thanks for coming over today," he says softly, his gaze warm as it meets yours. "And for the food, of course."

"You don't have to thank me," you reply sincerely, nudging him back with a smile. "I'm happy to do it."

Unexpectedly, Taehyung reaches for the TV remote, pausing the scene playing in front of you. "Hey, __," he says, turning to face you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes as they shift from side to side.

"What is it, Tae?" You feel a slight unease, sensing tension. He's once again just staring into your eyes, wordless.

"Do you..." he starts but stops short, his voice trailing off.

"Yes?" You search his face for clues as to what he's trying to say.

"Would you want to go to a party with my family?" he finally asks, his words coming out in a rush. "My parents are hosting to celebrate my recovery, but really it's just an excuse to get the family together."

"So, a family reunion?" Your voice drops slightly, a mix of surprise and...disappointment? Why had you been expecting something different?

"I mean, yes, sort of. You don't have to if you don't want to," he adds quickly, almost anxiously. "I know it might be uncomfortable for you, but you've been here for me during so much of my recovery. It would mean a lot to have you there. My parents want to meet you too."

"Um... well, I've never been to a family function before," you admit hesitantly.

"You haven't?" Taehyung looks genuinely surprised.

You shake your head. "My family's never been one to do those types of things."

"Well, consider yourself part of my family then. Come with me, __. They'll love you."

"I-I don't know about that," you say softly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face. "How can you be so sure that they'll like me?"

"Because I do," he urges gently, "and if I like you, so will they."

You're taken aback by his words, unsure how to respond. Surely he means this in a platonic way. Despite growing closer, you and Taehyung are just friends, setting aside any previous suspicions of romantic interest. Maybe if circumstances were different—if you weren't divorced—then maybe you could entertain the idea.

For now, you'll leave that side of him alone and simply be his friend. You feel a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

"Okay," you finally say, nodding your head. "I'll come. When is it?"

"They want to do it next weekend, weather permitting. We can carpool if you'd like, or you can take your own car," he offers.

"I'll think about it," you reply, trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

"Great." Taehyung flashes a boxy grin. "Thank you, I was so nervous to ask."

"Of course," you say, offering a tight-lipped smile. Taehyung unpauses the movie, and you return your attention to the TV screen. Minutes following your phone buzzes and a text message from Jimin appears on your screen.

Chim 🐥: __! Hate to be bringing this up, but have you seen the news about Jungkook? Looks like he's preparing to step down as CEO. Did you know about this?"

What? You had no clue.

a/n: If you are mad at me, well....I'm sorry but pls blame jk instead. But I am hoping you enjoyed! 🥰 vote jjk or kth

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side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[reidmania]

I MISS YOU IM SORRY | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series masterlist!!

summary; Spencer calls after being broken up for a month.

warnings ; fem reader, hopeful/happy ending, angst, exes to lovers, mentions of arguments, breakups, miscommunication, avoidant reader, loving spencer, break up bc reader pushed him away bc of self doubt, pretty tame. i love this i think

an ; RAHH fic twoooooo ehehehe. risk is coming soon i just had to pump out the angst really quick ok bare w me!!

You said, "Forever, " in the end I fought it Please be honest, are we better for it? Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called And said, "I miss you", I caught it. You said, "Forever, " and I almost bought it I miss fightin' in your old apartment. Breakin' dishes when you're disappointed. I still love you, I promise. Nothin' happened in the way I wanted. Every corner of this house is haunted And I know you said that we're not talkin' But I miss you, I'm sorry

The call came as a shock. When you were holding onto the doors of your pantry, leaning back slightly as your eyes skimmed over the contents of it — Which was not a lot. You we’re thinking about that fact you needed to go grocery shopping.

How long could you avoid that?

It started right after you and Spencer broke up, where you refused to go because of the chance that you might see Spencer there. It was right between yours and his apartment so the chances weren’t completely low — and normally you and Spencer did the grocery shopping together.

It would normally consist of you dancing around the store picking up random things and Spencer watching you fondly as he pushed the cart. He would mutter something about what was healthiest and you would hum approvingly then grab the opposite of whatever he suggest because it ‘tasted better’ He would chuckle and press his lips to the top of your head.

You wanted to relive that so bad that the idea of being inside the shops without him seemed so wrong. It felt like doing something behind his back. Like watching an episode of the show you two were watching together without him. It just felt wrong.

So you decided you would go to a different shop, an hour drive away. Just to be safe, but who just had time for that?

Which was how your pantry had gotten near empty.

You still had the big bag of his coffee beans that he left here. The ones you weren’t a fan of buy it didn’t matter because Spencer would compromise and just buy both, or just yours. You had use all of yours and started using the ones he left here.

They left a bitter taste on your tongue and a sweet sensation down the back of your throat, they were strong and kept you awake for hours longer than your normal ones did — but weirdly enough; they felt like home.

The bag was brand-less, and you should’ve memorised what it was you were sure you knew. You just couldn’t remember.

How were you suppose to ask? Call him? Message him? Pop by his house and ask. You were sure if he got any soft of contact from you— about anything, you would be blocked in milliseconds. The feeling that thought provided made your stomach tighten more than you’d like to admit.

You almost stumbled over your own feet when you closed the pantry as your phone started to ring, you saw it light up with a contact but your mind paid little attention as you answered, not even actually looking at your phone, your attention elsewhere.

“Hello?” You muttered as you walked towards the coffee machine you and Spencer had decided to get as an anniversary present. To fuel both your coffee addictions. You shoulder held your phone against your ear as you grabbed the bag of coffee beans — Spencers coffee beans.

You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone, “Hey.” The voice. His voice. Tired and groggy as if he had just woken up but you knew him well enough to know he didn’t. You pulled your phone away from your ear as your mind clouded foggy. Your eyes danced over his contact for a moment. He was calling you — He called you. it sent familiar butterflies to your ribcage.

“Spencer?” You exhaled, despite already knowing it was him. You wondered if maybe this was some prank, if he was just calling because he needed something or maybe to call you and degrade you over every mistake you made in the ending of your relationship — you deserved that.

He had every right to hate you for how things ended, he had every right to hate you, period. You had assumed that was how he felt towards you. Hatred. You knew he loved you throughout your relationship, that wasn’t something you had to question but the idea of that still being the case after everything unfolded the way it did.. It didn’t even seem fathomable.

“Hi” He repeated. His voice was low and quiet, you didn’t know what that meant and it was driving you insane. Your feet pattered around the house suddenly feeling cold in the kitchen. Nothing but memories fogging your mind every corner you looked — that didn’t go away as you moved around the house. It was filled by him and it was consuming you whole. 

You let out a heavy breath. “Do you need something?” It didn’t come out how you wanted it to. It wasn’t harsh or anything but your voice weakened half way through your words making embarrassment creep up the back of your neck.

The other side of the phone was silent for a minute, making anxiety pool in your stomach. Your head tilted as you sat on the corner of the couch, wrapping yourself in the blanket on the couch — the one you used more often than you’d like to admit, since some night sleeping in the bed that was suppose to be shared with Spencer felt all too consuming, the way his scent lingered faintly over the sheets and his little nothings covered the window sill, his jacket still hung up in the closet.

“Spence are you okay?” The nickname fell from your lips before you could try to stop it. You heard a muffled sound on the other end of the phone making your stomach twist. Slight worry and confusion filled the wrinkles by your eyes as you squinted slightly.

“Ye- Im.. Im okay” He breathed out his voice heavy and filled with something you couldn’t place if you tried. You were sure it was an emotion you had felt since you felt a sick feeling of familiarity in your abdomen. “I just- Can we talk?” He asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed as your knees pulled to your chest. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?” You asked, in your mind there was a point to this conversation, there was something specific he needed to talk to you about or why else would he call. He wouldn’t, you thought.

“No-Not like that, i just- I just want to talk to you, about anything. Whatever you want I just—” There was a pause, his voice got quiet, almost a whisper, “I miss you.” The words that left his lips buried themselves deep inside your chest, building themselves a home there.

Your head span. He said it so quietly you were scared you might’ve missed it if he said it any quieter. But you didn’t, you caught it. A deep breath left your chest as your hand came to your forehead, your mind was so focused on the fact that, he missed you. He called because he missed you. You almost forgot to answer him. You figured if he said the comment so quietly, maybe he didn’t want a reply on it, so you continued on with the conversation as the words interfered with the rhythmic beating of your heart.

“What coffee beans to do you buy?” You settled on. You heard him chuckle on the other side of the phone before passing a comment asking ‘why? You hated them’ It made your heart flutter uncomfortablely. The two of you continued talking about coffee beans for ten minutes before he muttered about how he had to go, you knew it was probably work related. But god he sounded so sad saying it.

“Spencer?” You asked softly, your voice coming out quieter than what you expected. You heard his soft hum on the other side of the phone. You didn’t want to admit how much you missed him, how your entire being craved him every minute of everyday regardless of what you did — nothing in the world could fill the him-shaped- hole that took up the space of your gut.

“I’m sorry” You apologised and you hoped it was clear you were apologising for everything, for the arguments, for the breakup, for pushing him away for no real good reason beside your own self doubt. It was the sorry you were too proud to mutter out a month ago.

There was a moment on the other side of the phone where you were almost convinced he was going to hang up — you worried you brought up what he didn’t want to talk about.

But instead, “I miss you.” He said louder this time, as if he believed you didn’t hear it the first time. The words made your stomach clench tightly and your muscles both tighten and relax at the same time.

You sigh, you should have shut up. He had to go, you know that but the words came out honestly as “I still love you” You said. You wanted to slap yourself in the face, now you really weren’t gonna be surprised if he hung up and blocked you.

There was a heavy breath, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. “Well-“ He huffed, “If you still love me, and- I still love you..” He muttered out intentionally, hoping you caught on to what he was insinuating. Your mind however was captivated by the fact that, he still loved you.

“We should probably talk” He finished when you didn’t, “Please?” It was thrown in there both to use manners and to show how badly he wanted this. You weren’t ever gonna say no in the first place.

“We should. Do you need to go grocery shopping?” You asked, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you almost smiled. You could almost imagine his confusion.

“Um— I guess that depends —Do you?” He asked. You huffed out a small laugh, nodding your head absentmindedly as you realised he couldn’t see you. “Do you still go to-“

He cut you off, “No. No i started going to the one across town, about an hour away” He said, honestly. You head tilted slightly as you realised he started going to the one you were going to. The conversation continued as you both ignored — or forgot the fact he needed to go.

“Why?”

“So you didn’t feel uncomfortable if I was there when you were” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It made your stomach scrunch up and your chest to bruise your ribcage as the beating of your heart only increased.

“Let’s go grocery shopping, at our shop. Then um— you can come here and I can make you coffee?” You suggested slightly awkwardly, as you worried about the chance of rejection and the embarrassment you would feel.

“It’s a date.” He smiled, you could hear it in his voice.

“Okay.” You exhaled out.

[fairyhaos]

seventeen's "loser line" in a relationship

[ requested by @valenhui ]

based off of the "losers when in love"* bullet point in this headcanon! theyre literally SO fuckinfg cute oml i might write full fics for them if i have time ><

*consists of junhui, mingyu, chan.

junhui

pathetic and adorable kind of loser. pathetic really.... is genuinely the best way to describe it. he's so desperately, pathetically in love with you and literally acts like he's still hopelessly pining over you even though you've already started dating. laughs super hard at your jokes and stares at you with sparkles in his eyes and flirts with you at every given opportunity like he isn't already dating you and hasn't already won over your affections ages ago. but hey, he's dedicated, and you can't exactly complain at being showered with all of his attention.

also randomly informs you that he's in love with you at any time of day. you'll be watching a movie in the theatre and he'll tug your sleeve, leaning into your space almost shyly and being like "hey. hey. i just wanted to let you know... im kind of in love with you" before scrunching his shoulders up all shy and leaning quickly away from you again. hes always so adorable, ears turning pink even as he flirts with you into oblivion before tacking on a cute "im in love with you, by the way" at the end. every time he says it, you feel so overwhelmed because god, you're so in love with him too

mingyu

wet puppy kind of loser. i'm talking whining 24/7, pouting dramatically whenever you're not clinging to his side, and snuggling into you whenever possible. it's like dating a large, overgrown puppy that doesn't realise he's as big as he is, if that puppy suddenly found out how to talk and cook and do the laundry and looks up at you with big, shining eyes when you come home and goes "hello!! i made every single one of your favourite foods when you were gone bc i missed you so much. how was your day??" at least twice a week. (you're beginning to worry that mingyu might have some sort of separation anxiety.)

also he Does Not care if the other members tease him for being so in love with you, bc hey, yoon jeonghan's just jealous of your lurrrve anyway. but he will sulk if You tease him about it bc hey :(( you're the love of his life :((( don't be mean to him :((( gives you those big, wet, sad eyes every time you tease him until you finally laugh and give him a big kiss to placate him. tells you he loves you every single hour of the day. the members can tease him all they want, but all that matters to him is that you're aware that he Genuinely loves you to pieces.

chan

devastatingly infatuated kind of loser. he literally just. ADORES you so much in a kinda adorable, kinda incredible way because it surprises you again and again when he does something and you realise he loves you so much. and he does things, a lot, because this man is literally doing everything for you. hangs onto your every word like they hold the secrets to the universe, and remembers everything you tell him like it's his life's mission to become an expert on your likes and dislikes. has definitely zoned out whilst staring at you too many times to count.

i gotta stress how in love this man is tho, like. would 100% change his profession into loving you 24/7 if he could. no one wants to go out drinking when the two of you are together bc when chan gets drunk, he just repeats how in love with you he is over and over again like a broken record. (hoshi made the mistake of joining you two, once. he recounts the incident with a look of mild horror every single gathering the 14 of you have.) he doesn't say ily to your face a lot, but it's mostly bc he just forgets cuz he's been staring at you in an utterly lovesick way for far too long.

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[greenorangevioletgrass]

give me a minute (2/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: established former relationship, discussions of separation and divorce, discussions of moving on, luca and reader has a son, brief mention of blood and minor injury, smut 18+ (fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, size kink? idk luca's big, dirty talk, creampie) notes: it's finally here! thank you everyone for your patience, i am a slow writer by nature and life gets in the way, but i finally got around to finish it! happy reading, and do comment, reblog, and send me asks to tell me what you think <;3 ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted for my latest fics ✨

<<< read part 1 here >>>

06.13 PM

Your apartment has never felt so claustrophobic after that little moment you shared with Luca. You try to stay busy in the next hour —tidying up Alfie’s room even after he made it up, checking your email four times, even doing the laundry, for fuck’s sake— as Luca keeps to himself in the kitchen area. Whether Alfie is obliviously enjoying his screen time or purposely ignoring the weird tension between his parents, you’re not entirely sure. Right now, you’re just grateful that he’s not saying anything at the moment.

The boy simply creeps up to the kitchen counter with a shy eagerness about him. “How long ‘til dinner, Dad?”

“3 more minutes, Chef,” Luca answers, focused on the task at hand, so poker-faced that it makes his son giggle.

“I’m not a chef, you’re a chef!”

“Well, where I work, we call everyone in the kitchen ‘chef.’ Out of respect.”

Alfie climbs onto the dining bench in interest, peering up to watch his father set the dish on the plates meticulously. Luca doesn’t miss how the boy deeply inhales the delicious smell in the air.

“Smells yummy.”

“Thank you,” Luca replies, his excitement seems muted although his heart is soaring. He looks up to find Alfie staring at the plate, chin propped up on his little fist. You’ve always said that he looks just like his dad, but in that moment, Luca only sees you. Alfie has the way your mouth tugs ever so slightly into a smile, the way your eyes shine in childlike wonder. In quiet thoughtfulness.

No Michelin star, earned or retained, would ever amount to this.

“Can you go get your mum and tell her dinner’s ready, please?” He softly asks Alfie, as if not wanting to disrupt this peaceful silence. “Thank you, Chef.”

“Yes, chef.” The six-year-old salutes him and pads over to your home office, which doubles as the guest bedroom. The door is open, and he sees you reorganizing the linen closet with your back to him. He hugs you from behind, startling you.

“Oh!” You put your hand on his head, stroking him lightly. “Hey, bub.”

“Daddy told me to come get you and say dinner’s ready.”

“Gotcha. Thank you.” You half-expect him to run off like he usually does, but he lingers, his arms still wrapped around you. “What’s up, bubbie?”

“Nothing.” He buries his face against your side. “Love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, bubbie.” This makes you smile, pleasantly surprised at this seemingly random admission.

“Love Daddy too, but don’t tell him that,” he whispers as he looks up at you, putting his forefinger in front of his mouth.

“Why not?”

“Sometimes he gets sad when I say that,” he murmurs. “He doesn’t tell me, but I know it.”

Oh. His playful exterior sometimes makes you forget just how emotionally sensitive he is. And it breaks your heart that he can see through the complicated adult emotions with his childlike eyes. 

“Alfie…” you level with him and pull him closer, “Your dad loves you very very much, and I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that. He’s just sad because… he’s been away, and he misses you a lot.”

“He should come home, then.”

It’s so simple, the way Alfie puts it. His Dad comes home and reunites with him and you, and his puzzle would piece together perfectly again. And you all live happily ever after. The end.

The truth, of course, is not so simple. But maybe, just for tonight… Maybe you and Luca can sacrifice a few of your own puzzle pieces. For your baby boy.

So you get back on your feet and guide your son out of the room. “Come on, bub. Let’s see what Daddy cooked for us, hm?”

When you and Alfie turn the corner into the kitchen-living area, Luca is wiping the side of the plate neatly. He smiles at you somewhat nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, so you throw him the figurative olive branch.

“Smells amazing,” you compliment him as you and Alfie take your seats. “What are we having, Chef?”

Luca’s eyes light up and your heart stops. You stopped calling him ‘Chef’ long ago, when the moniker became synonymous with workaholism and neglect. But there’s no venom in the way you say it tonight. Call him sentimental, but it reminds him of the early summer days in the tiny apartment you first shared in Chicago.

Of blueberry pies and barely there bumps.

He has to remind himself that this whole ‘happy family’ shtick is just a charade now, it’s all for Alfie, it doesn’t mean anything for the two of us, but he can’t help but miss this.

And little does he know, so do you.

“Well, buckle up, you guys, because we are having…” He carries the plates over and serves it to you and Alfie with a flourish, “Baked sweet potato wedges with Mediterranean dip, and our pièce-de-résistance… Alfie’s Nuggies.”

It looks nothing short of beautiful, with the wedges fanned out like autumn leaves underneath a colorful burst of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, and feta cheese. The chicken nuggets are rich golden brown against the brilliant white plate. The splatters of sauce (is that Tahini?) is a hint of thoughtful chaos on the dish.

Your six-year-old let out a little noise of awe and amazement next to you, but no sound escapes you—not for the longest time.

“This is…” you look up at Luca as if he would have the word you’re looking for.

But his blue eyes just look a lot like I love you.

“Thank you,” you ultimately say, with absolutely no pretense whatsoever.

And if he does hear an ‘I love you’ hidden somewhere in there… he hopes he’s not imagining things.

*** 

08:37 PM

If you could travel just a few hours back in time and tell yourself that you would spend the whole day stuck at home in a nasty storm with your son and his father that you’re divorcing—and that you’d be okay with it, you would’ve probably scheduled yourself an MRI scan because clearly something is wrong.

But the night is winding down. Luca is tucking Alfie into bed for the first time in months. You are washing dishes in the quiet accompaniment of steady rain and running water, and everything feels just right.

“He’s out like a light,” Luca informs you quietly as he reemerges from Alfie’s bedroom and stops right by the kitchen counter. “Need a hand?”

“Nah, I’m just about done,” you casually wave him off. “You want anything to drink?”

“Uh… what do you got?”

“Scotch, gin…” you pause, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. The sink tap squeaks a little as you shut it off. “...wine.”

His heart skips. Don’t overthink it, he reminds himself. “Red or white?”

“Take your pick,” you shrug nonchalantly. 

Luca reaches up to see the bottles of wine you have in store, and you try not to pay too much attention as his shirt rides up around the waist—or the sleeve, showing off the remnants of Alfie’s crayon work over his inks… you’re just two co-parents hanging out. It’s normal, right?

“What about the Malbec?” he eventually chooses, taking out the bottle.

He’s always loved Malbec—this particular brand of Malbec you brought him when he first invited you for dinner on your third date.

Don’t overthink it, you remind yourself. “Yeah, sure.”

You pick up two wine glasses and set them down on the dining table, shuffling into the corner bench. Luca settles into the other bench, directly against the kitchen counter, pouring the wine onto both glasses.

“How many bedtime stories did Alfie manage to get out of you?” you pipe up, swirling the purplish liquid around.

“Just one…” he sips on his wine thoughtfully. “Although he made me read it three times.”

You smile, bemused. “Which one was it?”

“‘The Bear Who Did.’”

“Ah, yeah. He’s been into that one lately,” you muse. “But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you to tuck him in tonight.”

The two of you exchange a soft look. A ceasefire. A truce, at least when it comes to your son. Because you really do want Luca to have a good relationship with Alfie.

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry you had to… make do with spending the day with Alfie here.”

He shakes his head softly. “Nah, don’t be. I had a good time. It’s nice to just hang out… at home.”

At home, the words echo in your head.

With you, they echo in his, loud and unsaid.

“So, uh… how have you been?”

“Ah, you know how it is. Work is kicking my ass—my current client’s only two blocks away, but the house is a total fixer-upper, and Alfie’s… Alfie.” You don’t want to backtalk your own son, although you both know how trying he can be sometimes. “But it’s all good. My mom helps out with Alfie, and Jess insists that I go out and live a little every now and again.”

“And do you? Live a little?”

“I mean, within reason. I can’t go clubbing ‘til 4am anymore. I think I’m getting old…” you stretch your arms, feeling that soreness just from your daily activities.

Luca grins, raising his glass. “I hear you. I don’t even really go out anymore.”

“Seriously?” 

“Mm-hm.”

You make an incredulous face. It would make sense for you not to go out much, with Alfie and everything. But he was alone, abroad… “Why, though?”

He just shrugs lightly. “I’m working. Whenever I’m off, I mostly just… eat or sleep.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” You take a dubious sip. You both know how much Luca enjoys grabbing a cheeky pint. He’s British; it’s in his blood, goddammit.

“Oh come on…”

“You don’t even go out drinking or whatever? Meet people?”

His gaze flashes towards you almost playfully. “Do you?”

Your face falls, not expecting to be caught so off-guard with such an innocent question. And upon seeing that, his face falls. Shit. And with that, the air between you shifts so dramatically.

Stupidly, you still try to save the conversation. “Of course my friends and I go out—”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice darkens, his blue eyes piercing through you. 

This conversation is a long time coming. It’s a natural progression of your relationship—or the lack thereof. You separate, you get divorced, and eventually you move on. Two years is a more than acceptable time to start dating again. And still, you phrase out your next words very carefully.

“I’ve been on dates here and there…”

Luca sucks in a slow, calculated breath. “Does Alfie know?”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious so far.”

He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that it’s nothing serious, or that you’re holding out for something serious in the future.

“Look, we both know this is happening sooner or later…”

“I know,” he quickly recovers—or as much as he can recover. He just stares down the stem of his glass.  “It just… It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”

“I understand.” The wine feels like gravel down your throat, and the words coming out of your mouth feel like throwing up a boulder.

“Because I do miss you.”

Your eyes immediately dart over to his, as if you’re not sure you heard it right. “Luca…”

“I miss you everyday. I miss us. I miss everything we used to have.”

Your heart catches—no, stops altogether at his admission. “Luca, we can’t do this anymo—”

He swallows thickly, his jaw setting as he braces himself. “I’ve been thinking about it everyday—the whole time I’m away, and frankly, I’m kicking myself over not telling you this sooner.”

“That’s probably just the homesickness talking.” You turn away. This can’t be possible. This can’t be happening. What the fuck?! “It got you reminiscing about the good old days. Give it time, you’ll come around.” You try to maintain a neutral, distant, cold approach to this, although the crack in your voice betrays you.

“No. That’s not it.”

“Then what the fuck is it?”

Your words cut through the quiet apartment like a flash bang. Luca stops dead in his tracks in his shock, and honestly, so do you. Awful silence hushes over the room, and both of you are almost too afraid to break it. Neither of you even dare to move.

After what seems like forever, Luca moves first. A tear escapes his eye, and he wipes it away with his knuckle hurriedly. “Noma should’ve been a dream. And it is, in a way. I guess.” He stares blankly ahead, his life in Copenhagen replaying in his head like it’s on fast-forward, and the playback seems to just highlight how lonely he is there. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly miserable there. I get up and go to work and I just feel empty. Because what’s the point? You and Alfie are way over here, being a family while I’m… doing what?” He wants to tear his hair out, because this is everything he’s dreamed of, and yet he is living the stuff of nightmares. “It makes no fucking sense.”

It makes even less sense to you. You can’t even begin to process this tangled mess in your head. “Luca… we are almost officially divorced. You’re telling me this now? When everything is—”

“I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I should just… let you cut your losses and—”

“The best for me? How the fuck did you think giving up was the best way forward for me?” The thought of it burns your eyes with angry tears. They melt, and you don’t do a thing to stop it from running down your face. “You didn’t think to fight for us while you still could?”

Luca’s heart aches to see that. He is dying to reach out and wipe them away, but he can’t. His voice is quiet and small and almost childlike. “I tried. You were just so… sure about the divorce. You had it all figured out. And I… I thought you had no room for me anymore.”

“I had to keep it together. I had to figure it out—for Alfie’s sake. For mine.” You stare at your little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “I don’t see the point in being vulnerable with you anymore when you’re already set on leaving.”

The words have run out. The whirlwind of emotions has passed. What he feels and what he wants is now very clear.

“I shouldn’t have left.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” You wished he didn’t. Everyday for the last two years. And everyday you set yourself up for disappointment because, the truth of the matter is, he did leave. So you stop wishing. “Because I don’t know how to come back from this. I really don’t.”

Nothing that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. But it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it from the horse’s mouth. “It’s just… seeing you guys today… We were a family again. And I would do anything for us to be a family again. Please.”

You sigh heavily. “What else is there to do, Luca…?”

“We can, I don’t know, figure something out, go to couples counseling—”

You groan in frustration, Jesus Christ not this again, wanting to tear your hair out when— CRASH! You accidentally knock over your wine glass and it shatters as it hits the floor. “Shit…”

“Mommy?” Alfie calls you from inside his room, sleepy but alert.

The two of you freeze just before you can move out of your seat. Afraid the slightest of noises would rattle your son.

“Yes, bubbie?” you try to sound bright and normal. Maybe if you can convince him that everything’s fine, he won’t come running in panic. 

“What was that?”

“I just knocked over a glass, kiddo, everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

You and Luca wait a few seconds with bated breath. One, two, three… ten seconds go by, and there’s no movement in the bedroom.

The coast is clear.

You scramble down to pick up the shards of glass. The spilled wine looks like blood in the dim light of the room. It’s a painful reminder of the broken pieces of your former life, the casualties. He quickly follows suit, as if struggling to put it all back together. The irony is not lost on either of you, you’re sure of that.

“It’s fine, Luca. I got it, I—” a sharp piece of glass accidentally cuts your palm as you pick it up in hurry. “Fuck!”

“You okay?” He takes your hand as quick as lightning, wanting to inspect the wound, but you snatch it away.

“I’m fine.” You get up on your feet, teetering over to the sink, away from the crime scene, careful not to step on any piece of glass.

Yet he still follows you, walking over to where you’re standing now. “Come on. Let me just take a look.” He reaches out to your wrist, running little circles with his thumb to ease your grasp.

“It’s not a big deal…” you let him look anyway, you figure it’s easier to just let him do his thing than to argue your way out of it. 

His calluses are brittle against your palm, but he handles you with the gentlest touch. The wound is not too big or too deep, but the sight of blood marring your palm makes his heart drop. There’s no visible piece stuck to it, that’s a good sign, he thinks. He rips off some paper towel and wets it on the sink, and softly dab at the gash, cleaning the wound and wiping the blood off.

You grit your teeth, not wanting to show any sign of pain although it stings. “It’s just a little cut…” your tone bears less and less conviction, as if you have no energy left to argue with him on such a small matter.

There’s a very particular way his eyebrows arch when he’s deep in thought. The left one always sits slightly higher than the right. Blue eyes fixed on the object of his focus. A minute gesture behind the chaos in his head. “You need a Band-Aid,” he points out. 

“It’s in the—”

Luca is already opening the drawer next to the stove, taking out a packet of a Star Wars-themed Band-Aid. He still remembers where everything is, and you can’t tell whether the ache in your chest is a good or bad thing.

He puts the Band-Aid on your cut, then takes your hand close to kiss it better, like he used to do.

“Um.” You freeze in your tracks, taken aback. And it seems he’s just as equally as taken aback by his own action. He is flushed with embarrassment, and you feel your face growing hot as well.

He’s the first to break the awkward silence, quiet and tentative. “I’ll clean up the mess. You just hang tight.”

It seems so mundane, sweeping broken glass and cleaning the floor. His body registers it as a simple muscle memory—he must’ve cleaned up messes on this very spot a million times. But his heart is heavy with the burden of your history, and all the pain that comes with your separation. He might not be able to put the pieces back together, but maybe he can clean up the mess and make it nice again for you.

And all the while, you’re stuck to the kitchen counter, watching him so effortlessly reacquainted with his former home. It’s as if he never left. For a confusing moment, it feels like home again. How did you manage without this view, this presence for so long?

Luca puts away the debris in the trash, hidden away in another kitchen drawer next to you, and hovers in front of you, as if wanting to reach out and touch you… but too afraid you’ll push him away.

“Does it still hurt?”

You can’t tear your eyes off of his. The little cut on your hand is but a dull ache now, but the insides of your chest feels like it’s been mangled beyond repair. You burst into tears, sobs ripping through the seams.

His arms wrap around you, keeping your tattered pieces together. Your face is buried in his chest, surrounded by soft cotton and earthy perfume, and your first thought is you can’t remember the last time you were in his arms like this. You rake your mind through all the memories, all the times you hugged each other hello and goodbye and all the times in between, and you can’t remember the last time you stopped, why would you stop—

“My love…” Luca’s voice soothes you, so quietly murmured against your forehead with a soft kiss, yet rings so clear in your ears. He cups your face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay... I got you.”

The palm of his hand grazes your lips, and you kiss it the way he kisses your Band-Aid earlier. You have no energy left to fight whatever is going on inside you. You don’t understand the nagging urge to be away from him, when being close to him feels this good. You miss his touch and his voice and his face, and you’re so overwhelmed with longing that you close the distance between your lips and his.

Luca gasps when you kiss him—and it feels like the first breath he’s drawn in two years. Your lips are just as he remembers, just as warm and inviting and familiar, and he relishes coming home to them tonight. He didn’t think he would be so lucky ever again, but now you’re here, kissing life back into him again.

Against your better judgment, you stumble into the bedroom, careful to make as little sound as possible as you tread down the hallway. Still tangled in each other. Refusing to let go even for a second. His five o’clock shadow scratches your skin, following the trail of his lips down your neck.

You push him into bed and climb on top of him without a single thought. You need him close, closer than the past two years, closer than now, and your clothes feel like they’re in the way. Of his hands, of his mouth, of his warmth…

You tear your dress off and throw it away, and he stops in his tracks. He has every part of you memorized, every curve and every ridge, every notch of your stretch marks, every inch of your C-section scar from Alfie’s birth… and yet he’s looking at you for the first time all over again.

“Beautiful…” it escapes his mouth just like that, and you kiss him senseless in return. You worry that if you stop, the moment will pass and this whole thing turns out to be just an illusion.

Or worse, a mistake.

You tug his t-shirt over his head, trying not to linger on his broad chest too long. He gets the idea—he is dying to say something, but doesn’t—and just unclasps your bra in response. He keeps his mouth busy by kissing and licking and sucking your newly exposed breasts.

It’s not that you haven’t been touched like this in a while; it’s just that you haven’t been touched by him like this for so long.. “Luca…”

He never thought he’d hear that again. His name in a wanton sigh, uttered by the lost love of his life. He’s not one to waste his chance. “It’s okay. I got you, my love. I got you.”

Because for the first time in a long time, it’s true. He’s got you. He’s got your body underneath him, your nipple in his mouth, your sweet sex in his hand.

God.

You’re so soft, so warm, so wet against his fingers. The little stuttered moan you let out sounds absolutely heavenly. He remembers exactly the last time he was here.

Christmas Eve, two years ago. 

Things had been tense long before that, but Luca was home and able to spend some time with his wife and kid at last. You didn’t seem all that chuffed having him around—whether he was here or not brought out that “neutral look of displeasure” from you these days— but at least you didn’t pull away when he rested his head on your shoulder as the three of you watched Jurassic Park (Alfie’s all-time favorite). Didn’t roll your eyes and turn away when he kissed you and wished you happy Christmas before bed.

And he wanted so desperately for you to openly want him again.

So he tentatively deepened the kiss and reiterated his love for you in every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. Trying to convince you that he was still here. Trying to convince himself that with every orgasm he pried out of you, that you still wanted him there.

But you just… laid there and watched. Hands locked in on the sheets, not even touching him. Motionless as he went through the motions of his thrusts. Numb as he touched and kissed and fucked you the way you used to like. He was fighting a losing battle. He might as well have been making love to a ghost. 

“Luca…” Your breathless voice snaps him out of his own intrusive thoughts, more clear and alive and real than any memory of you posing no desire for him.

“I— yeah, sorry. I just…” he shakes off his own thoughts.

“Hurry up, come on…” you needily thrust yourself into his hand.

“You sure?”

No, and neither does he. But at this point, you’re much too stubborn about your decision in the divorce and much too prideful to admit that you want him back and maybe just a tad too eager to make a mistake with him.

So you nod your head yes, and with a searing kiss, he fingerfucks you the way you needed him to. 

“Oh, God… fuck…” you sigh under the undoing of his fingers. It’s like he never forgot how to work your body. His fingers play a pattern on your clit that makes you sing. And when one slides into you, crooking and curling against your silky heat…

“Luca, I— now.”

He unlatches his mouth from your nipple almost begrudgingly, as if too sweet to part with you. “Not yet, baby. We can’t…”

“What, why?”

“Because…” he nips at the smooth flesh of your chest thoughtfully. How can he explain it to you in a way that makes sense? “I want…” to take as much time with you as possible, he adds another finger inside you deliciously slow. “I need…” to feel you in every way first, he chants in his head as he kisses you through your orgasm.

Your resolve is slipping, but the craving is as ravenous as ever. You try to squirm in protest anyway. “But…”

“Please.” His lips press against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “I got you, okay?”

His blue eyes meet yours, as familiar as the sky you’ve walked under your whole life. As sure as day. And before you realize it, you find yourself nodding along.

Watching him slither further down your body. Mouth paving the way between the valleys of your breasts, up the diamond-hard tops of your nipples.

Down your torso.

Between your nether lips.

You don’t remember the last time you did this either. Memories of attempts to rekindle the romance flash before your eyes. The nights that he climbed into bed late at night after work, still smelling like chocolate or mint or whatever ingredient he was working with that day. Waking you up with the parting of your legs and hushed kisses saying, “Missed you so much, baby…”

“Right there. Yes…” you pant as he laps you up where you’re dripping, catching every drop and coaxing more at the same time.

His eyes close, and he swallows back a needy groan. “Come for me, baby.”

The words shoot right into your core, and you’re suddenly overcome with the waves of pleasure running through you, grinding your hips into his mouth shamelessly. Has he always been so greedy in the way he ate you out?

Your head is spinning with need and you hope the broken words you string up are comprehensible enough for him. “Luca, come on, I can’t—”

“No, please—” he seems to understand just fine, but still he shakes his head and buries his face deeper into you.

“Luca…”

“Wait, just let me—”

So insistent. So stubborn. So… needy. You grasp a fistful of hair on the back of his head. Both heaving, you breathe out,

“Please.” 

The word stops him in his tracks. But it’s not so much the word as it is the gravity that comes with it. Whatever the two of you are doing, whatever you’re feeling is beyond words at this point.

It’s just you and him and this need.

And as much as he wants—needs— to satisfy his hunger, there’s just no way of stopping you anymore. Truth be told, he’s not even sure why he’s been stalling you in the first place. Not when you’re so eager to tug his clothes off and touch him absolutely everywhere. To stroke him, and taste him…

“No, baby.” He stops you just before you slither down his body, settling you back on the bed and caging you underneath him.

You throw him a look, indignant. If he’s gonna hold it off some more, you swear to God—

“No, I…” he kisses you hard, hoping you’ll get that he wants you too. More than anything. And that he’ll give you what you want. Hell, he would give you anything if he could come back to this again for the rest of his life. “Just trust me, okay?”

You marvel at the sight before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With dark blond locks tousled in passion and eyes lidded from lust and longing, and it makes your heart stop because… there it is.

Love.

As much as you shut it out and as much as you avoid it, love is permanently etched to his actions. Tattooed onto the smallest of things. In the way he kisses your temple softly, and the way he caresses your skin as he aligns himself against you, and the way he holds you as he pushes in…

“Luca…” you gasp sharply.

He stops halfway into you, his eyes searching your face with compassion. “You okay?”

You’re aching and craving the stretch of him all at once, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, so you ultimately nod your head. I’m okay. 

And he knows that deep down. He feels the same. Soothed and tormented by your very presence, although he can’t help but ask, “Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t ask me to stop…

You shake your head quickly. Neither of you would ever dream of it. You would take everything—the weight and the sting of it all— and he would leave everything behind just to have this again.

Your hips colliding again in a frenzy of a rhythm you haven’t played in so long—still remembering every beat like it’s your own pulse. Your walls gripping him like you wouldn’t let him go.

He shudders a little. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that…”

“I don’t care,” you murmur into his neck with a kiss, “Come.”

“What…?” He can’t have heard that right… right?

“I want you to.”

“Jesus…” he breathes out. “I wanna make this last, baby—”

You shake your head again and wrap your legs around him almost demandingly. “I want you to come inside me and fill me the fuck up… want you dripping down my legs… please…”

“Fuck!” The images flash before his eyes faster than he can stop his hands from grabbing you by the hips, slamming himself into you. 

Nor can he stop himself from coming deep inside you.

There’s no way to describe the way he feels at that moment. The way tension peaks and snaps into release. How it brings you into your climax as well. Your lips must be swollen from the assault of your own teeth as you hold back the filthy noises coming out of you. You don’t mind the building ache in your thigh muscles, because as soon as that warmth fills you up, your body is overcome by waves of bliss.

“Fuck…” he flops back onto his side of the bed—the right side—and quickly gathers you in his chest. It’s an effortless little maneuver, making sense at last as you lay half on top of him.

Your hand finds his—more puzzle pieces coming together as he fills the spaces between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Surprised to find the gold wedding band still adorning his ring finger.

***

9:56 PM

“Was that really your first time since we… you know?” Your murmured question rings loud in the absence of the rain. The storm has finally passed, but neither of you move—neither even dare to bring it up— afraid to ruin the moment. 

“It was.”

“Not even in a casual, ‘no strings attached’ kind of situation?”

“No.” He looks almost embarrassed to admit it, but there is no hesitation in his answer.

“Wow…” your heart sinks. Is it possible to feel good and bad at the same time?

Luca pauses for a moment. You can see the conflict brewing in his head. “Did you?”

You don’t have to answer. The sheer silence you take is an answer enough.

The confirmation feels like shit, but he tries to stay neutral. His thumb stills on the back of your hand. “Can I ask how many?”

“Gosh, does that even matter?” You sigh. There’s another argument coming—you can feel it.

“No, I just… I wanna know.”

“You don’t really wanna know.”

“Is it a lot?”

“I mean…”

“How many?” 

You take in a sharp breath. There’s no way out of this now. If the truth is what he wants, then the truth is what he shall get. “Twelve.”

He tenses up next to you. The whole world stops, and you can’t help but think, it’s over. There is no way this marriage is salvageable now. “What…?”

“I know that it’s a big number, and I know you might be upset—”

“That is a big number.” He doesn’t say anything about the latter part of her sentence, but it’s obvious that he’s upset, too. “I just… why?”

“I was trying to get over you.” It’s a pathetic answer, but that’s all it is to it. “I couldn’t sleep in this bed for months. I just couldn’t. Slept on the guest bed instead,” you motion at the next room, “and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like a switch flipped inside my brain, and I needed to—”

“What?”

“I needed to… overwrite the memories of you,” you admit feebly. “On this bed. On my body.”

Knife, meet heart. He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but whatever it was, this hurts so much more. “And did it work?”

“Up to a point…” you pause, a sad smile in realization. “It’s funny. I keep getting bits and pieces of you somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

You close your eyes, your memories flashing, reminding you that every single time reminds you of Luca one way or another. “It’s… somebody’s perfume, or the timbre of their voice, or the way they hold my hand…”

“And you see me in them?” 

“Every single one.”

“Jesus…” Luca finds himself relieved and choked up at the same time. He doesn’t want you to ever get rid of your memories of him, but at the same time, it’s painful to hear that you tried anyway.

And you tried very hard.

“I’m sorry.”

He hums, and you realize… he hasn’t let go of your hand. Not once. Not even after your little confession. It makes the argument easier, knowing he’s there. It’ll be easier to part with him again after tonight, you hope, knowing you both did your best to understand. Why you needed to be apart. Why you did the things you did.

The armor has been shed, and the two of you are now naked, in every sense of the word.

Luca turns to look at you, studying your profile. He remembers the last time he was here.

He had just told you about Denmark. Stupid of him to feel excited, to tell you he’d just been offered his dream job, to ask you and Alfie to move someplace new with him, because it turned into a fight.

Worse than a fight; it was a death sentence.

You turned away and stared at the ceiling, and told him you couldn’t do this anymore.

And in some fucked up way, Luca feels as if he’d been brought back in time, and this is his one chance to make it right. So he asks you,

“Do you still love me?” 

You breathe out, heart clenching because in spite of yourself, “I do.”

“Do you want us to try again?”

“Luca…” you sigh heavily, “How would that even work? Alfie and I are here, and you have Noma–”

“No more Noma. I’m giving that up.” The answer is straightforward, and he surprises himself over how easily it rolls off of his tongue. How right.

“What? You wouldn’t…” Your face falls as you turn to him.

“I would. And I am,” he says firmly. “Look, I’ve thought about this for months now. I can’t do Noma anymore, I need to be home.” His gaze softens, and you feel the pattern running on the back of your hand again.

Slow and steady and certain.

The tear rolls off the corner of your eye and onto the pillow with the tiniest drop. “I wanted you to come home…”

“Then let me come home. Please?”

“I want to. I just…” you reach out and cup his face tentatively. “I just want to make sure that we’re not doing anything rash.”

His eyes light up. The only thing that matters is that you want him home, too. It takes him everything to let his logical part of the brain take control. “How about this, then?” Luca pauses thoughtfully. “We’ll take a minute. For me to sort out everything at Noma, find a replacement… and for us to figure out if this is really what we wanna do.

“If it starts to feel like a bad idea, maybe we should rethink it. But if it feels good… maybe we can give it another shot.

“And in the meantime, we’ll talk. We’ll FaceTime and… figure out what the hell to say to our lawyers.”

That makes you grimace. You were supposed to have another meeting with your divorce lawyers. Tomorrow is going to be awkward. But awkward beats saying goodbye to the man you’ve always loved, right? It’s a small price to pay.

“What do you say, baby?” He looks at you with all the hope that he has. “Just give me a minute to get everything sorted and then I’ll come home.”

You smile tearfully. “A minute is not enough… how about a month, hm?”

“Yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” He chuckles sheepishly. “A month. I can do that.”

“Good.” You sidle up to him and kiss him where his heart is. You’re willing to settle for having him just for the night, but you can’t wait until he comes home to you for good.

You hope he will.

[mountttmase]

I Bet You Miss Her

Note - Hey guys 🩷 just a cute little baby fic today and thank you to the anon who sent the request in, I hope it’s okay for you 😘 feedback would be appreciated 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 5K

Warnings - angst and fluff

Mason always loved a pre-season party, getting everyone together after weeks apart and excited for the season to start usually meant he was in his element but this year was different. You weren’t with him this time.

That didn’t mean he didn’t see you everywhere he looked. That when he watched one of his teammates wrap their arm around their significant other he didn’t feel a pang of emptiness because you weren’t by his side. He knew he should be there with you and he knew this was all his doing but being here hurt more than thought it might.

He felt lost. His arms limp by his sides as he couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands now they weren’t wrapped around yours. His eyes glued to the floor as he knew he’d still be looking for you even though you were miles away and as he stood with Licha and his family he was trying his best to act normal and not let his inner turmoil spill over.

‘So Mase, where’s y/n?’ Muri asked, a bright and friendly smile on her face as she wrapped her hand around Licha’s bicep and the sound of your name sent shock waves through him. He’d been expecting it for a while but he wasn’t sure if he wanted your name brought up in conversation or not. On the one hand he was desperate for someone to bring you up so he could imagine you once more and have an excuse to talk about you but he also knew the memories would just be too painful just like they always were.

‘Oh uh, she’s on a work trip. She’ll be back in a few days’ Mason lied smoothly. His lips pressed into a tight line as he fiddled with the last button on his shirt but thankfully she bought his excuse.

‘Ah amazing, she doing so well for herself. I bet you miss her though’ she pouted and her sympathy just made him feel worse somehow.

‘Yeah, yeah I really do’ Masons whispered and it was like the words hit him in his soul. Gulping back a lump that was rising up his through far too quickly for his liking before raising his glass to his lips in a final attempt to disguise his emotions.

Today had been a lot.

It was officially three months since the breakup and Mason couldn’t have felt worse if he tried.

Nothing had caused the pair of you to break up, nothing big at least. The move from London to Manchester had been tough for the pair of you and you knew he was finding it hard to settle. The constant injuries meant he spent more time with the United staff rather than his teammates that he should have been bonding with and unbeknownst to you one of them was having more of an effect on him than you knew.

What started off as bickering as you were both on edge became bigger arguments as the season wore on. Mason spending longer hours with his new friend on the physio table and at first you didn’t mind because it gave you a chance to cool off but soon enough it got to the point of no return for him.

You always figured the fighting was a phase and something to move past but the morning of a big away game, his first start since October the year before, he’d told you he couldn’t carry on and felt it was best if the pair of you ended things there so it didn’t get any worse.

You were blindsided, it never being in your head that he would end things as you knew you loved him enough to work through it but as soon as he left for the game you packed your car until it was full and made your way back home to London later that evening.

It felt like he was taking the easy way out. Not giving you a chance to fight or say anything back, just telling you he was done and running away so he didn’t have to face the consequences but if that’s what he wanted then that’s what he would get. Driving back to your best friend's house who was ready to welcome you with open arms whilst you cursed his name all night. Confused as to how you’d even got here but you were hoping that when he returned home he’d feel just as awful as you were.

The game went terribly, Mason not really ready to play the amount of time he had been given and even though he wasn’t really to blame the loss hit harder than most. Not speaking a word to anyone unless he had to on the flight home and once he was back in his car he finally let his emotions get the better of him. Slamming his head onto the steering wheel before letting the first few tears fall.

This felt like rock bottom.

Mason knew you were gone as soon as he got home. Your car was gone and your house keys left in the dish on the console table told him as much when he walked in, but he could also feel you were gone. Your presence had been sucked right out of the home you’d built together and Mason felt awful instantly. He’d known since he stepped onto the plane yesterday morning that he’d made a mistake and all he wanted after an awful 12 hours or so was for you to make him feel better like you always did.

He tried every way known to man to try and get a hold of you but nothing seemed to be working. Even contemplating sending a messenger pigeon if he thought that might have worked but after five days of nothing from you he knew you were done. He’d made his bed and now he just had to lie in it no matter how uncomfortable it was.

In the end he figured he’d just wait for you to come to your senses and reply as you must be missing him just as much as he was missing you but the call never came. Just days that turned into weeks of waiting and waiting and soon enough the inevitable questions as to your whereabouts came.

Muri wasn't the first person to ask after you and she wasn’t the first to have been lied to by Mason. Everyone who mentioned you he managed to fob off with a different excuse and at this point you’d been on more girls trips and work trips than he could shake a stick at. He was running out of excuses though and he’d told his mum you’d been ill for so long that she was threatening to come and look after you herself but Mason always had it covered.

He was surprised he’d managed to get away with it for this long without someone coming back at him, thinking word must have gotten back to you eventually but no one ever questioned him and his spiral of lies just kept getting deeper. Too embarrassed to admit he’d let go of the best thing to ever happen to him so he kept going until the excuses no longer sounded plausible.

Where were you? Oh, yeah she’s at the dentist, she’s gone back home to visit her family for a few days, she’s already got plans she can’t cancel he lied but before he knew it he was paying for his sins.

It was 11pm a few days after the pre-season party and Mason was just about to get ready for bed. Switching his tv off and taking his snacks back to the kitchen but that’s as far as he got. The sudden sound of pounding fists on his door startled him and he froze in fear for a moment before he quickly pulled up the doorbell app on his phone. It was clearly a little slow to alert him to someone being outside but was met with a sight he thought he’d never see again.

He was running to open the door in a flash, pulling it open so quickly you almost fell inside as you were still aggressively slamming your fists on it and once you’d gathered yourself Mason swore he’d never seen you so mad before.

‘Why are you telling everyone we’re still together?’ You demanded, your voice loud and hard and he felt his tummy drop as the seconds went by. A deep feeling of regret but also love for you swimming through him and he didn’t quite know what to say.

‘Wha… what are you doing here?’ He asked, trying to avoid the question a little bit he knew it was for nothing. You were beyond furious.

‘Work trip, funnily enough’ you laughed but he knew there wasn’t an ounce of humour in it. Clearly word had gotten back to you and at this moment he didn’t know if he was happy about it or not. ‘Now answer my question’

‘I- I don’t know-‘

‘‘Keep my name out of your mouth, Mason. You broke up with me, remember? You don’t get to do this’ you cut him off, ready to turn around and leave as you had nothing else to say to him but as soon as you looked away his helpless voice ran through the air.

‘Baby please-‘

‘Don’t’ you snapped, holding your finger up so he would stop talking. Your voice now cold compared to what it just was and Mason realised in that moment he’d rather have you angry at him than whatever this was. ‘Just don’t. You don’t get to call me that’

‘Don’t go, I fucked up but we can fix this’ he pleaded but you didn’t come here to talk. You came to tell him to leave you alone and you weren’t prepared for this at all.

‘No we cant-‘

‘Baby please-‘

‘No Mason! Why are you doing this to me? Have you not put me through enough?’ You shouted as you turned back to him fully, your emotions getting the better of you as you tried and failed to hold in a sob and your hands were now balled up into fists as you were so frustrated with the boy in front of you. ‘I’m trying to move on with my life but I’ve got people asking me about you all the time and bringing you up cause you’re still living in some weird fantasy land!’

‘Please baby, please don’t cry I can fix it’ he whimpered as he moved closer to you but made sure to take a step back so he didn’t get too close.

‘There’s nothing to fix! We’re done!’

‘No we’re not. Don't say that okay, you’re mine’ he sobbed as he ran his fingers through his hair erratically. ‘What do you want from me, huh? What is it cause whatever it is I’ll do it now. You want me on my knees? You want me to beg for you back cause I don’t care I’ll do it’ he told you, lowering himself onto the ground in front of you but all it did was make you sob harder. ‘I don’t care that you hate me, I don’t care that you think we’re done. I love you and I'm not giving up on us ever when I know we can work this out’ he cried. ‘Why won’t you listen to me’

‘Because you’re a coward, Mase! You broke up with me before an away game so you could run away. You didnt fight for me then and you don't get to fight for me now’

‘Please’

‘No’ you told him, hoping that could be the end of it so you turned in your heel and ran away. Knowing that he’d be delayed by a few seconds if he wanted to get up and chase you but by the time you’d got in your car and looked back he hadn’t moved from his spot. His chest now pressed to the floor as he’d slumped forward with his head hidden in the crook of his arm and you could see his back moving erratically up and down from what you presumed was him crying.

There was something in you that made you stop, something that made you want to get out of your car and run back to him. To stand him up and hold him and tell him everything was fine and you were still his but you didn’t. You couldn’t.

That didn’t mean you didn’t think of him over the next few days. Hours spent in your friend's box room as you didn’t have the heart to find your own place yet but the sound of his voice and the memory of him being so heartbroken was etched into your brain and you couldn’t seem to move on from it.

You’d never seen him so distraught before in all the time you’d known him. On his knees in front of you begging for another chance and you’d just ran away and left him sobbing on his drive after pouring his heart out to you.

You hated the way he still occupied your thoughts. Before things had gone wrong you believed he was your forever and would have done absolutely anything for him but all that had changed and right now you didn’t think you could ever fully move past this unless you sat with him and spoke to him properly. No matter how much it hurt.

Mason was absentmindedly watching whatever was on tv when his phone alerted him to someone being outside. He didn’t hear a knock or anything moving outside so he quickly opened the app to put his mind at rest when he was met with your face. Your hand rising and falling as you thought about whether or not you should press the bell but Mason wasn’t about to give you a choice and shot up from the sofa to pull the front door open

You weren't expecting him to suddenly be there, a hopeful look on his face as he tried to control his breathing and you felt your heart leap at the sight of him.

‘You’re back’ he whispered, watching you wrap your arms around yourself as you looked down at the floor and all he wanted was to wrap you up in his own arms. To kiss you and promise you he’d never hurt you again as he hated how you looked so fragile and nervous but he was taking you being as a positive sign.

‘Yeah’ you breathed, nodding lightly. ‘I was just about to knock, I um… do you think… do you think I could come in?’

‘Of course you can’ he nodded, pulling the door open wider before shutting it behind you. Watching you glance around the house you used to call a home before you stood playing with your fingers. ‘Can I get you anything? You want a drink or-‘

‘No, I think it’s best we just talk and get this over with’ you told him. walking right by him to get to the sitting room and the familiarity of the place hit you immediately. Nothing had changed, he even still had the same pictures of the pair of you in the frames by the fireplace and you felt your tummy drop at the sight of them. They felt like they were from a different life at this point and you didn’t know if you’d ever get to be like that with anyone ever again.

Mason sighed before joining you, his shoulders slumped as he thought maybe you’d come here to listen to him and let him put things right but from just that small awkward interaction he knew you were done. He was just praying to anyone and anything he could change your mind somehow.

‘I’m sorry’ he mumbled as he took a seat opposite you but you weren’t here to listen to that again.

‘I don’t want an apology Mason, you’ve said that a million times now. I want an explanation’ you told him calmly. ‘What happened?’

‘Nothing… and everything I guess’ he sighed, running his hand over his beard before scratching the back of his neck. All of his tells to let you know he was nervous. ‘Things were rough for a while, I think we both can agree on that’ he said and you nodded lightly. Things had been hard but never once had you thought about ending things with him. ‘It was just a hard year for me… and then were was Jason’

‘Jason?’ You asked, confused as to who he was talking about as the only Jason you knew was Mason's physio and he’d always been sweet to you when you’d seen him so you were confused as to why he was being bought up now.

‘Yeah, he’d been on at me for months about ending things with you’ he confessed and you felt your heart sink. ‘It's my fault, I saw him most days and we got pretty comfortable around each other so I said some things that looking back now I shouldn’t have. It was just guy talk you know? I didn’t mean anything by it at first, we were just moaning about our other halves but then he broke up with his girlfriend and he was going on about how much lighter felt now he was single and maybe I should do the same so we could be single together’

‘What?’ You breathed. Not knowing if this was a joke or not but you knew Mason and you knew he was open to everyone so it was no wonder he took advice from some he thought he could trust.

‘I know, and I know it doesn't make me sound any better. I get that. But we were arguing over stupid things and I had him in my ear constantly like I just lost it’

You didn’t know what to say. You understood a bit better now but it still didn’t make things easier.

‘But I knew it was dumb, maybe in the back of my mind that’s why I did it when I did cause you’re right. I was a coward and I wanted to run away but I knew It’s not what I wanted as soon as I got on the bloody plane to leave. I didn’t get chance to talk to you or do anything until later that night and I tried to call you but I never heard from you’

‘You didn’t even really give me a chance to fight for us. You told me what you wanted and left as quickly as you could. I didn’t exactly feel like giving you a chance to explain anything after that’ you told him quietly and he nodded knowingly. His face crumpling as he tried and failed to hold it together and you couldn’t lie and say the way he was wasn’t having an effect on you and his watery eyes were like a dagger to your heart.

‘I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve never stopped loving you’ he sobbed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eye so he could stop crying but it only made your eyes sting in return. ‘That day when I finished things, well I didn’t just hurt you. It's like I tore my own heart from my chest and I’ve never been able to numb that ache. Why do you think I lied and told everyone we were still together?’

‘Cause you’re certifiably insane’ you whispered. Your heart leaping at the way he let out a little chuckle as he wiped his eyes and when your eyes locked you felt your resolve crumble further.

‘Well yes, there’s that, but I couldn’t admit what I’d done to anyone cause I was embarrassed’ he gulped. ‘And I didn’t want to admit it to myself half the time. You’re way too good for me, I know that. Fuck everyone knows that so why would I want to tell everyone I’d thrown away the best thing to have ever happened to me. I know exactly what they’d say and how dumb I felt even just thinking it to myself so I made out you were just busy or something’ he shrugged. His confession melting your cold exterior slightly before he was scratching the back off his neck again. The cogs turning in his brain as he tried to make you believe in whatever way he could.

‘Mums been asking after you loads, I kept saying you were sick or had an appointment. She even sent me those special immunity tea bags to give you like they’re in the cupboard and everything’ he laughed and you felt your heart warm at how kind his family were. You’d missed going to visit them but didn’t want to reach out and have things be weird but now you were glad you hadn’t as clearly they were none the wiser

‘Does she know now?’ You whispered but he just shook his head awkwardly. The bridge of his nose turning a bright red out of embarrassment but your heart was hammering as you always found that to be one of his cutest tells and it was like you had to restrain yourself in your seat so you didn’t reach over to grab his face and kiss him.

‘No, she still thinks we’re together. I'd actually like to keep it that way’ he told you and even though you knew it was coming you weren’t ready to accept what he wanted to say. At least you didn’t think you were.

‘Mason-‘

‘Please’ he pleaded. His big brown eyes melting you even further and even though you promised yourself you’d be strong he was making it difficult. ‘Please, y/n. I said it the other night and I’ll say it again. I really would do anything for another chance and I’ll get down on my knees again if you want me to’ he told you and the tiny smile on your face must have given him the courage to push forward a little bit. Sliding off the sofa before getting himself settled between your thighs and resting his hands on them gingerly. You felt your heart thump as he looked up at you through his lashes and you knew you were putty in his hands at this point no matter how much you didn’t want to be.

‘I’m the biggest idiot known to mankind and I let you go when I should have held you closer. I know I can make you so happy, we were happy once were we?’

‘Yeah, we were’ you agreed quietly cause deep down you knew you really were and you knew I wouldn’t take much to get back there.

‘So we can do it again, right?’

‘I don’t know Mase’

‘Why? What’s holding you back?’ He questioned and at this point you didn’t even know. Only a few seconds away from just agreeing with anything he said as the hopeful look on his face was destroying you but you knew you had more to say.

‘Cause it hurt’ you whispered. ‘I hurt when you left me, it still hurts now’

‘It hurts because it matters’ he whispered, tucking some hair behind your ear and the gesture made you shiver. ‘And it matters because we still love each other. If you didn’t care anymore then it wouldn’t hurt’ he told you and you hated but loved the way he had you on strings. ‘Please baby, please. I can’t be without you anymore it’s killing me’ he told you, his voice wobbling as he looked down into your lap.

You couldn’t take it anymore, reaching down to cup his jaw so he’d look at you and the tears rolling down his cheeks broke your heart. You knew he was right, it hurt because you still loved him but looking at him so devastated between your legs hurt more than anything else.

All you wanted to do was make him feel better and you knew there was only one way to do it. Leaning down and pulling him up slightly so you could drop a sweat kiss to his lips and you knew he was surprised as he froze for a beat.

You both sat there for a few moments, foreheads touching with your eyes closed as it hit you what was happening but the smile on his face made you giddy so when he lent back in you let him take the lead. Kissing you gently as he gripped your thighs, almost making sure that you were actually there and he wasn’t dreaming but you were holding onto him just as tightly before pulling back to catch your breath.

‘I didn’t think I’d ever get to kiss you again’ Mason whispered but you couldn’t reply, Mason pulling you down onto the floor next to him before rolling himself half on top of you so he could kiss you again but the pair of you giggling didn’t help. ‘Is this really happening?’

‘Trust me when I say this, but I came over here with the intention of just putting things to bed and going back home’ you told him. Watching his face drop as things turned sombre. ‘But you’ve just made me realise I am home’ you told him, watching him pout slightly as he was so emotional. ‘I’ve been lost without you Masey, and yeah what you did sucked but I know you’re sorry yeah? I can see it all over your face’

‘I really am’

‘I know you are, and it’s okay. I forgive you’ you whispered and it’s like you felt his body relax under your fingertips.

‘Are you sure? I feel like I haven’t said half of what I wanted to’ he gulped, almost as if he couldn’t believe you’d forgiven him so quickly but you didn’t see the point of prolonging everything.

‘That’s okay’ you whispered. ‘You’ve said enough for me, life isn’t always about big apologies you know? I’d rather you make up for things with actions not words’

‘And I will’ he confirmed before leaning down to kiss you again. You tummy flipping at how gentle he was being with you and even before things had turned sour you couldn’t remember the last time you kissed like this. The last time he made you feel like this but you knew the feelings had never died, other stupid things had just gotten in the way.

You pulled back soon after, the pair of you just looking at each other in awe as you shared tiny kisses and soft stares before you felt his hand on your waist. You’d missed his touch and the feel of him made you wonder what else you’d missed in your months apart.

‘You won the fa cup’ you giggled, your eyes burning again as you thought back to the pictures of him looking so happy with his team mates. A nice end to a hard year he’d suffered and even though you’d been mad at him you knew how much it meant for him to win a domestic trophy and you couldn’t not be pleased for him.

‘I did yeah’ he laughed, tears springing to his eyes once more. ‘And we didn’t get to celebrate it together’

‘We’ve got time to, it’ll just be a little late that’s all’ you shrugged and he nodded down at you enthusiastically.

‘We do’ he breathed. Kissing your forehead before cradling your face so he could look at you properly. ‘And you’re going on work trips?’

‘Yeah, a week or two after I went home I got promoted’ you smiled, rolling your eyes lightly as the pair of you knew it was something you’d been working towards but in your mind it was still a little way down the line.

‘I’m so fucking proud of you’ he told you sincerely, pecking your lips quickly before looking at you again and the smile on his face melted you. ‘Looks like we’ve got a fair few things to celebrate then’

‘I think so, and you know how I like to celebrate’

‘Chocolate cake?’ He questioned, an eyebrow raised but he knew he was right. It was always your little tradition and how you celebrated the small wins.

‘Chocolate cake’ you confirmed with a smile and his bright eyes made you melt.

‘I’m gonna get you the best chocolate cake I can find, yeah. Only the best for my girl’ he smiled before his face dropped a fraction. ‘You’re still my girl aren’t you?’

‘I’m still your girl’ you told him, stroking his cheek as he looked at you softly. ‘Even though I was mad as hell I was always your girl Mase. And I always will be’

‘You and me against the world, sweetheart’

‘Of course, but I have a condition’ you told him, watching him raise his brow at you questioningly. ‘If you get upset again, please talk to me so we can work it out’

‘I will baby, I promise’ he told you sincerely and you knew he meant it. ‘I don’t ever want to be without you again, yeah? I fucking hated it’

‘Me too’ you laughed, pulling him down into a soft kiss that you couldn’t help but smile into as you felt him melt. ‘Now what’s happening with that chocolate cake’

‘Come on, we’ll get it together. Not letting you out of my sight now’ he told you, helping you up from the floor so you could make your way to the car, your heart finally home with your forever person.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed if you feel like leaving some feedback it would be much appreciated 🩷

[starillusion13]

RENT IS DUE!

Pairing: housemates!(Jaehyun,Mark,Jeno,Jaemin) x fem!reader

Genre: SMUT, Housemates, Mature

W.C: (15k) (I thought I was trying to make a series)

Warnings: PERVERT (all of them are pervert and you can’t change my mind here), dom!Mark dom!Jaemin meandom!Jeno meandom!Jaehyun sub!reader. overstimulation, nipple play, sucking, lots of kissing, manhandling, oral(m and f), spit as lube, penetration w/o protection (I suggest you not to do it) [do tell me if I have missed anything)

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated . Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

MINORS DONT INTERACT UNDER THE CUE! 🔞

Here comes the long awaited fic! Taglist in the end. Thanks to everyone for waiting. I would love to hear your responses once you finish reading it. Let’s start!

NOW I DON’T WANT TO BE A HOMELESS!

Never in a while, you thought that suddenly one day morning you would wake up to hear your house owner ringing the bell as if hell broke loose and it’s the end of the world. It would have been better honestly as the news she delivered to you after you welcomed her inside while rubbing your eyes and yawning was lot worser. She eyed you for a moment and looked around the house as if you were hiding someone and then smilingly told you that you have to leave the house in three days. ONLY THREE DAYS! Like is she fucking serious? How can you actually arrange for a place suddenly? This woman has always been a rude one but you just never minded her as she lives in a different state and comes for few days every month to her parents’ home and to take the rent from you. She always has this suspicion on you that you bring over boys but only she doesn’t know that you are not so lucky one in getting a boy for yourself, keeping aside boys. Aside from this, everything was fine but to give you the notice to leave the house in three days was very much unpredictable from her. You even tried to convince her to give you one month time or atleast for one week. But NO. she was not convinced by your pleadings but gave you strict warning to leave. And what’s the reason behind this. She has got a very big amount of deal on selling this house so she won’t be losing the chance. Understandable, everything is for money.

Now, what about your need for the money? You clearly know that how costly the apartments are in this locality and that’s why it was the best option for you to select this place to stay on cheap rent but due to this sudden kick out, you have to search a new place. First, you gave up on the search in this locality and search for other houses or apartments in some outskirt regions but nothing was showing upto your satisfaction. The places are too far for you to maintain daily up-down journey from house to office and back. So, today after getting the news from the owner, you took a quick leave from the office and promised to work extra time to make up for todays. And that’s how you are stuck in your room with messy hairs, not caring about to eat anything, making a list to pack the important things first and the rest in sequence and your laptop placed on your lap with your eyes boring onto the screen in search for a quick and affordable place.

NeoVilla.

The owner has not mentioned the amount of the rent but the room look so nice, it must be expensive. Still, your fingers hovering over the click button to contact the owner. The place is quite near to your office but the locality is away from the city zone but it’s not the matter here right now. To get a place affordable enough to live and that’s near to your workplace. Biting your lips, you looked at the name and the picture of the room shown at the side and then your gaze moves to the contact side- ‘via call’ or ‘via message’. You clicked on the message option and fingers lingering over your keyboard as you are nervous how to start the conversation. Just sending a quick ‘Hi’, you waited for the other end to reply. You are literally so tensed as if you are approaching your crush in high-school. Well, still you need to be professional before approaching this owner as you don’t know their personality yet so it’s good to be on the safe side.

Nothing came back as a reply and losing the hope, you got up to freshen up and prepare your food for the day. It took almost two hours or maybe more than that to prepare everything for yourself and after finishing up when you thought to pack your things, you get to your laptop to check if you should still keep a hope or just search for something else but fortunately, YES FORTUNATELY you have ten messages from the account. But wait! Your overthinking ass is again thinking about the negative possibilities when there are more than five texts from someone. As soon as you opened the texts, you are greeted with apologies that how the person never looks up this account anymore and he was no more planning to rent the room but if the matter is urgent then they might look into the matter. He even introduced himself and gave you the contact number just in case you want to know the further details. Relief washes over you and you happily sit on the edge of the bed. Saving the contact as ‘Owner-Jaehyun’, you quickly message him about your needs and urgency. You didn’t opt for calling as you are not comfortable on call with strangers. Surprisingly, the owner replied to the message quick enough and he agrees with your demands but the only thing that is not sitting properly is the money. He claims you to pay for three months payment in advance but your bank account has a problem or simply you don’t have that much amount of money altogether. To get this matter solve in person, you tell him to meet outside but he denies quickly and asks you to come over to the house so that you will get the overview of the house and know the exact location of the place and then you can talk about the money matter. That’s how you both comes in terms with meeting him the next morning before going to your office.

…………………………….

“Hi!”

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

Blinking your eyes, you pout a little at the man standing in front of you as to why the person is acting as if he does not know you. You have already checked the message in your phone twice and the third time now and it’s still showing this house. You have already texted the owner about your arrival for a quick look to the new place so the owner should know you would come. Wait you haven’t shared any pic of yours so it might be the reason of this weird introduction.

“Are you Jung Jaehyun, the owner of this house?”

Now, the person before you, has a frown on his face and blinking down at you. The bare face with red eyes and messy hairs with a white tee worn casually is still enough to reflect his handsomeness. You literally envy when people look good in messy stuffs as you look like you have survived a war.

“I’m not him but I’m one of the owners of this place. Myself Jaemin.”

“Owners? I didn’t know there’re others. Nice to meet you though, here this is Y/N.”

Awkwardly shaking hands with each other, he offers you to enter the house. This dude is really weird and he is still trying to understand the situation. His eyes never left your form after the introduction and the way he is checking you out, anyone can call him out as a pervert but what about you. Meanwhile your eyes roaming all around the big mansion and you are in awe with the luxurious interior of this grand place with expensive items decorating every corner and the most displayed area.

Hands fidgeting by your side and biting your lips, you turn around to find him already looking at you and you feel conscious of your look. Trying to smile a bit, you fail miserably because of his gaze which is piercing on your skin, your choice for wearing a skirt and a plain top is making you to regret now. This dude needs to be changed with his approach with people like why he has to stare at you like this.

“How do you know Jaehyun?”

You blink on his sudden question but clearing your throat, you try to form some words but it seems as if you don’t know how to speak yet.

He smirks at you, “what happened? Caught in a lie?”

“Huh? No no. I…he is the owner with whom I had contacted few days back for a room to rent and he said that he has one vacant extra room in his house so for the advance payment and quick check through, I informed him about my arrival but it seems he forgot about it.”

“Renting the extra room? That even to a girl?”

You nod slowly.

Poking his tongue inside his cheeks, his eyes trail down your body and taking extra time on your exposed legs to which you shifted in your place and his eyes meet yours, straight away making an eye contact as if daring you to move again and see the consequences. A fear flashes through your eyes to which he gestures you to sit with a smile on his face.

Slow steps towards the sofa, you sit on the middle large one, no wait which do I need to sit on? The love seat one? Or the chair one? Ah. Forget about it.

Turning your head to his side, he is no more standing there but you see him walking away towards a passage way.

“Jaemin, can you call Jaehyun as I need to have a quick talk with him?”

Halting in his way, he looks back at you and nods his head but it doesn’t seem like as if he is agreeing with you but rather agreeing with something inside his mind.

“Who are you?”

Turning your head to the other side, you find a man with black tshirt and trousers staring down at you but not to so happy with your presence. His question is so cold just like his appearance but a guest is a guest. You are a stranger so why asking you like this as if he caught you stealing things in his house. His house? Who even is he?

“Myself y/n.”

“Oh, pretty one! I didn’t want your name but thanks for giving me the name to this pretty face. So, what’s my dear Y/N doing here? Who brought you here during this bright daylight instead of night?”

“I’m not here for…on call of anybody. I’m here for the rental room.”

“You mean you are going to stay here? In this house?”

You nod your head with furrowed brows.

He asks again, “Who let you even know about it? Are you sure that you are not at the wrong address? What’s the name of the owner who contacted you?”

“Jung Jaehyun. I have double checked it and it’s showing the same address where I am currently and Jaemin told me he is the other owner.”

Something clicks in his mind when his eyes go round and brows raise high as if he realized something very important. You haven’t yet noticed that you are standing on your legs while speaking to him and your hands gripping the skirt tightly, why are they so overreacting to have a girl over for the rental room? It should be you like panicking to see so many men in a single household without any trace of a female and you wonder if you have to live with them or they are just here for some reasons.

“Well, hello there y/n! My name is Jeno, I’m another owner of this household and it’s really nice to have you here.”

Shaking hands with him, you feel shy because of his stare along with a sly smirk resting in the corner of his lips. He is not letting your hands go even when you try to pull a little.

You ask him, “Another owner? How many of you are here?”

“Four.”

You turn around on hearing a new voice, a man emerges from the passage way where Jaemin went to earlier. He notices your confused expression and approaches you with a hand offering for a handshake. Jeno has already left your hand and gone to sit on a chair nearby.

“So, Jaemin told me about your arrival. Y/n, right? This is Jaehyun.”

If the previous men are angels from heaven, then this one is the angel who has been created by every angel with a little touch of every beauty. Why all of them are so handsome and hot? I should take control of my mind as what stupid things I’m just thinking about my house owners.

“Yes. I am. Nice to meet you.”

His dimples deepen with the smile and nodding his head, he gestures you to sit back and unconsciously your legs give in and you touch the soft material of the sofa. You are really feeling too weak in front of them. Is it because you are unwell or something about their aura and the stares?

He takes a seat on the love seat and checks something on his phone.

“Is this ‘fantasy love’ your username?”

“Oh yeah. I’m so sorry I haven’t yet changed the name and I just like to keep everything private so I don’t use my real name there. But I can assure you that I’m clean, I don’t have any criminal records and all. Also, I will not cause any trouble while staying here. I need somewhere to stay so urgently that I was glad when you offered me this place on the site.”

He chuckles on your ramblings and also you can hear two chuckling voices from the place where Jeno is sitting. You feel shy under their gazes, you notice how Jaehyun is staring at you as if judging your whole appearance and on the other end, Jeno is being accompanied by Jaemin, who is standing by the side with a spoon in his hand and asking the other one to taste something but their eyes are on you when they caught you watching them.

Your attention brought back to Jaehyun when he clears his throat and lips close rightly making a line, dimples visible again.

“But you have already lied on one thing.”

“What? I haven’t lied anything. You must be wrong somewhere.”

“In the online generated space for some specific basic informations, you have selected the gender as male. But all I can see is a beautiful Angel sitting in front of me.”

Your eyes go wide on hearing his words so you quickly open the site and go through the form of basic informations and then your eyes stop on one place.

Gender: Male(☑️). Female ( ). Not mention( ).

Oh. You and your clumsy ass would never learn how to take things slowly and properly to avoid mistakes but this one is really about your identity of being a liar or not. He must be thinking you as a liar. It really doesn’t matter whatever pronouns people use for you and you need to refer to others but making mistake and have to get blame as a liar is not setting right.

“What the hell….”

“So, why did you lie there?”

“Jaehyun, I didn’t lie there. It’s just that I was must be in hurry and selected wrong.”

You are looking down, feeling guilty on the realization that they must have thought on getting a male visitor today but instead you showed up and that’s why they felt weird earlier. You were ready to apologize and take your leave with the disappointment on your mistake when he spoke up.

“When are you ready to finally come over?”

“Huh?”

“It’s okay. Humans are meant to make mistakes and an angel should be forgiven as they are always so busy for looking pretty.”

You feel shy on the compliment with his seductive voice directly reaching your ears. You tug your hairs a bit and you can feel two other states on you this whole time but you opt to ignore it.

“Do I need to-“

“Gosh! Why nobody woke me up and now I’m running late for the meeting?”

A man with jet black hairs, dressed in a black suit, hands busy putting the watch on the wrist and eyes glaring all around the room. His steps fast while coming down the stairs. You didn’t know but you are again watching this man like you did with the others and when his eyes land on you, a frown appears on his face.

“So, you all are busy with a girl that even early in the morning and forgetting about the event at the office. Are you all for real?”

“Calm down Mark, I have told them to start the meeting after one hour as how you came home late last night. Don’t worry.”

He even glared at you before making his way out of the door. Jaemin shouts to have the breakfast but the other ignored the shout leaving behind a grumbling man.

“So, what were you saying?”

Oh yeah! I was saying something before this little commotion.

“In two days, I will be coming here to stay with my things and also, do I need to pay you in advance?”

“That’s fine. I will prepare the room for you. So, you have the money?”

You shake your head to which he nods.

“It’s okay, you can arrange for it in one week time and if you have any trouble, feel free to approach to any one of us.”

You smile to his welcoming gestures and sweet words. You feel satisfied on finally getting the place to stay.

“Uh I have one more question.”

“Ask away.”

“Do you all stay here as well?”

“Yes. Why?”

Oh. Okay.

“I need to stay here with you all?”

“Yeah. It’s just under the same roof but you have your personal room unless you want to stay in any one of ours.”

He laughs in the end and you laugh along with him. He doesn’t mean anything else right? No no it’s not.

You stand up and he follows you to the door and you can see Jeno trailing behind him.

“It was nice to meet you all.”

“Same here. Also don’t mind Mark, he is like that when something is not in accord, otherwise he is really sweet.”

You nod with a smile.

Jeno speaks up, “Also he is the fourth owner and the last owner you are yet to meet properly.”

With waving them and making your way towards the gate in the end of the garden, Jaehyun calls you again. Turning back, your eyes tell him to say.

“Remember, your rent is due.”

Rent is due.

The whole ride to your office, his words were dancing in your mind that you need to gather the money for three months in advance. You were sure to make him change the rent structure but the way your nervousness took over yourself that you couldn’t get yourself to ask about it. Fine, atleast you have a place to stay in two days and one week more to arrange the money and also, he offered that if you need help regarding the money then you can ask one of them, three out of four. No way, you are going to ask that grumpy one, God knows where he is showing his temper right now, you feel pity over those employees.

Arriving to the workplace, you are already late for fifteen minutes. Wow, great you have an important meeting but due to the traffic, you are going to get a good earful. Your one of the co-workers greets you at the entrance with a worried look on her face and you already know the reason.

“Y/n, just run to the meeting room. Managing Director is already getting pissed off with your absence and if you don’t hurry-“

You are literally skipping steps to reach to the elevator, “Sana, I know but can you please shut up. I know I’m already late, you don’t have to say it again.”

Without looking back at her, you quickly enter the elevator and press the buttons repeatedly as if it would fly you to the room. Tapping your feet impatiently, you glancing to your wrist watch with passing of each floor and you just hope to atleast arrive there without any more hurdles. So many things going in your life all together. Honestly, if it was any other meeting then it should not have been a problem but today the Managing Director will be attending the meeting and you have already messed up.

Reaching the floor, you sprint towards the meeting room and push open the door. Breathing heavily and sweats lining your forehead, you smooth over your skirt and bow with apologies flowing continuously from your mouth.

Everyone already has seated in their places and as soon as you saw your empty chair in the end of the row, you turn to move towards it. Wait, don’t think you are getting out of this situation so easily.

“So, you are Ms. Kang Y/N?”

You halt in your steps and turn around. Your eyes go big and shock expression visible on your face to come face to face with the person who just called you. That’s why the voice sounded so familiar. Can I just jump out of the window from this floor? Like what is he doing here? Why? Out of all the people, he is here.

Mark.

“Come here miss, I have already introduced myself to rest of them but I guess you think everything goes according to you so let me introduce myself to you in a special way.” He takes slow steps towards you, but your brain is having two reactions like one that he is looking scary with this deep tone and two that he is looking hella fine and maybe hot in this black suit.

“Myself, Mark Lee. The Managing Director of Fact Check Enterprise.” Oh. So, he is the one who was supposed to come and the meeting was scheduled later due to him and is matching how Jaehyun earlier referred about his going home late at night. He shakes your shaky hands and leans down to whisper, “Also, the fourth owner of the villa.”

Standing up straight, he goes back to the end of the table to his previous place but this time he asks an employee sitting at the front of the row to exchange the seat with yours and sends a smirk towards you. You are still standing there and understanding his motives but he just raises his eyebrows and signals you to sit in the new place. That’s the place extremely near to him. He is just trying to do everything possible to show his temper on you. You didn’t think back in your way that the poor employee will be you. How pathetic!

The meeting lasted for one and a half an hour. The result was the best and your experience was the worst. In the end of every speech, he laughed to make everyone comfortable around him and also listened to each of the member’s point of view on the project and he had that warm aura that even made those employees to state their perspectives who always hesitate. His leadership skills were on the point but everything was different when it was your turn. He had that smirk plastered permanently on his face, eyes roaming all over your body and him leaning back to his chair and palms joined before him and deeply staring at you was like something to make you feel uncomfortable. It’s not like anyone was finding the situation weird but you know him holding the grudge from the morning. Whenever your tensed self was explaining something, he has to interrupt and ask you some silly question which didn’t even relate to the topic but smiling towards others he claimed that everyone has to prepare for such questions in bigger interviews. Huh bigger interviews! he is just asking you the questions just to mess with you and piss you off because of the commotion back at their house. You are a very confident woman when it comes to your work and duties but somehow his presence is not helping you today.

Ending the meeting officially, everybody stood up and bowed to him and others. You did the same but when it’s your turn to exit, “Miss Y/n. Please stay back, I have few words to talk with you.”

Looking back to the ones left to leave the room, they send you innocent smiles and excused themselves to leave. You are hoping to leave the room along with them but to your surprise, Mark closes the door as soon as everybody left.

“So, should I call you Y/n or fantasylove?” He asks while leaning against the door, hands folded in front and smirk still visible.

“Y/n….” you try your best to avoid his piercing gaze on you but you got tensed up when you hear his footsteps nearing you.

Hands gripping your jaw, fingers brushing over the skin so lightly and eyes devouring your simple beauty. Poking his cheek with the tongue, he smiles down at you, “A shy housemate we are getting huh?”

“I’m not shy. It’s just you are crossing your boundaries.”

He chuckles and raises his eyebrows, “Boundaries of?”

“This. You are crossing the distance between an employee and you. You should not do this as it would hamper both of our image.” You try to push him but he holds you tighter and closer by the waist.

Tilting his head, he leans to your level to whisper in your ears, “What if I want to ruin my image?” his breaths fan over your ears, tickling your skin, “And also if I want to ruin you, love?”

“What?” Your shocked eyes staring at the door in the fear of anyone getting inside anytime and finding you here in this position. Without thinking anything else, you push him and take your bag from the chair and sprint towards the door. Leaving behind a man with a smug expression and satisfied self.

You didn’t care if he is going to report your behaviour of pushing him but if anyone would have seen the scene then also it might have caused a similar problem and it was better option to run away.

All the way back home, it was you overplaying the same scene from the office in your mind and having a second doubt to shift to his house, their house. You certainly don’t have another option to cancel them but also an uneasiness setting in your mind. Maybe he was just trying to be friendly with me as we are going to stay in the same place and am just overthinking about the issue? But is it? So, you block your every here and there thoughts to just stick to your plan and that’s moving to the house in two days.

………….

The next day, it’s a mess for you as you are packing up all the things and also tensing on the matter of not having enough money in your account. You should keep a proper calculation of your spendings and get hold of your balance when it’s reaching the bottom limit. You don’t know whether you can manage to pack all the things by the night and would be able to move tomorrow but still keeping aside your other routines, you focus yourself on gathering your stuffs in one place.

*DING*

Your doorbell ringing continuously and you swear if it’s again any children playing around, you might lose your temper. It’s not like you don’t love them but in this hectic situation if it’s not something important but them, you are literally going to lose your mind.

Opening the door casually, you are prepared to scold the one who ringed it but to your surprise, Jaemin is standing at your doorstep with a flower bouquet and a bright smile plastered on his face. Atleast, you should have peeked before from the peephole so atleast you wouldn’t be standing like a beggar in front of this absolute beautiful man.

“Hey, Jaemin. You didn’t inform me that you are coming and also how come you know my place?”

 He hands over the bouquet to you and you welcome him inside. While placing the gift on top of the counter, you turn back to him to see him looking around the house in curiosity.

 “If I had informed you then where was the fun of surprising you and also you are going to be our new housemate so it’s good to know about your details and I asked Jaehyun about it.”

“He knows about it?” you ask in confusion.

He nods and comes near to you, sliding his hand around your neck, “Yeah, you have told him on the call, yesterday.”

“Did I?”

He nods again and pats your head, “Don’t overthink yourself little mate. It’s easy to forget things when you have so many other responsibilities. And that’s why I’m here to help you with it.”

He looks around the living room but he can’t see anything to pack as you have already taken all your stuffs to the bedroom and kept in one place to make it easier for the packing. He turns to you and you move from his hold to give him a glass of water.

“Sorry, I can’t offer you anything more as all my snacks have been finished and I myself haven’t ate anything since the morning and it has been afternoon already so maybe I will look for a quick delivery. I will bake something for you when we would be staying um together.”

“That sounds nice. I really like it that we are going to stay together.”

Leaning on the counter you sigh, “yeah, something like that.”

A worry flashes across Jaemin’s eyes, “Hey, you look so tired. Just tell me where your stuffs are and then I can help you with and then later I will bring you some food. You need to take care of yourself.”

“It’s okay, Jaemin I don’t want you to worry for this. I can handle it, really.”

“Y/n. I insist, please. I will feel that you are not considering me as your friend and a housemate, me and my brothers wont feel nice about this. We just want you to feel comfortable with us.”

“Brothers? You guys are related?”

“Not fully. Mark and Jeno are related but me and Jaehyun has same father as them but our dad has married twice. His first wife died early and that’s Jaehyun’s mother and then he married again and that’s Mark and Jeno’s mother.”

“And you?”

“The child of the mistress down the street.” He laughs at his own explanation and you give him a smile.

Jaemin has the sweetest personality and you look forward to his company while living with them. He is so helpful and kind of a perfect friend and maybe has the best qualities of a husband. You are taking your thoughts a bit too far. Apart from his good qualities, he is a kind of…pervert. Like, he offers you to take the shower when he will be sealing the boxes and after so much of insisting, you took a quick shower and then when you saw him standing near the door, scanning your whole body but fortunately you were dressed. On asking him what he was doing there, he quickly apologized and said that he needed to use the bathroom. But something about his stare is making you feel uneasy, you can feel all the time when you two were packing that his eyes were lingering on you. You even caught him few times stealing glances of you but you ignored it.

“Thanks for the help, Jaemin and I really enjoyed the food. It’s expensive though.”

“Anything for my little mate.” He ruffles your hair and goes to the exit.

Bidding your goodbyes to each other, you are smiling to yourself after closing the door. Maybe the news of leaving the house was not as bad as you thought and also getting housemates in addition was not in your list. You are going to start a different life from tomorrow so it’s the last day of you staying in this house.

As promised last night, Jaemin is happily waiting for you by the side of the road and also brought a van with him to carry your luggage. To your surprise, Jeno is also tagging along with him and you are happy that they are so friendly with you. Both of them didn’t let you to do anything, not even was letting you to carry your purse. You were utterly surprise with this sort of treatment because never once in a lifetime, you ever thought or got this type of behaviour from someone. You are so glad that they are going to be your housemates but what about the fourth one, Mark. Well, you can ignore one person, its not like you are associating with them very closely. You are going to be friendly and all and also most of the time you are going to be working your ass off at your workplace. Atleast for this upcoming one week. Jaemin asks you if you had your breakfast and lunch but you shyly shake your head and he scolds you for it but Jeno was quick to send him off to buy you all some food and himself volunteered to take you to their place, apparently your place too from now onwards.

The ride to the place was having fun with him and listening to different songs and humming to the songs that were of your choices as he insisted you to play your playlist. It was a cute gesture. On reaching to your destination, the day flashes when you entered the same gate without the hope of staying here but today finally you are here. Your previous owner was eyeing Jeno so suspiciously when you were handing over the keys, you doubt she has doubt him as your boyfriend instead of your new house owner.

“Welcome to NeoVilla, pretty one.”

You give a smile, “Thanks for the ride, Jeno.” And when you try to open your car door, Jeno is quick in action as he opens it for you and extends his hand in front for you to hold with a sweet smile on his face. Such a gentleman!

Holding your hand, he takes you inside the villa.

OH MY GOODNESS!

This is your literal impression after getting inside the house. They have arranged for a welcome party for you, not inviting any guests but only them and you as the main spotlight of the party.

“I hope you had a safe and fun ride with Jeno.” Jaehyun walks towards you with a rose in his hand and a sly smirk resting on his face.

“Yeah, he is really such a nice person. And what’s all these for?” You say while showing around the decorations with your hand. He holds your gesturing hand and brings to his lips, planting a soft kiss.

He is such a flirt that before leaving your hand, he winks at you. You shyly laugh it off and tugs your hairs behind your ears before looking around to take your mind off the incident. They are going to be your end if they continue acting like this to you. Their gestures and words having this strong effect on you and they also make you feel like as if you are the centre of their attention. Jeno takes a hold of your hand where still the feelings of Jaehyun’s lips lingering.

Jaehyun goes over to the table and brings a drink for you, “Drinks?” You shake your head sideways and he nods while taking a good look of your outfit, “I see that you love to wear skirts a lot. And also, all these are for you. To welcome our baby to this grand villa.” He smiles in the end of his sentence, taking a small sip from his glass.

“Hey! I’m not a baby though. Me and Jaemin is of same age, we got to know about this last night. So, that means Jeno here is of my age too.”

Jeno takes you towards the table and gestures you to sit and he takes the place beside you, sitting facing you, one hand resting on top of the chair. Jaehyun moves to the other side of the table and stands on the opposite side, leaning on his one hand on the chair and other hand holding the glass. Both of their focus on you, out of shyness, you take a glass and have some water to atleast calm down your racing heart on feeling their continuous stare.

“You might be of my age but still you are the youngest of this household so you are the baby.” Jeno gives you his eye-smile with his cheerful speech.

Jaehyun laughs on hearing his brother, “Yeah that’s true and I will call you baby, my baby.”

His baby. Doesn’t it sound like a boyfriend calling his girlfriend. Hey! Stop. He is not your boyfriend and he can’t be ever. This is the second day that you are meeting him and here you are already falling for him. Huh! Well, not your fault that you are finding their actions and words towards you weird and overwhelming. Not weird actually, the reason is you have never experienced any boy to be treating you like this ever let aside two or three of them all together. You wonder for a while how you are going to stay with these flirts if they are going to treat you like this. You are not going to lie here but honestly if they were someone else then you would have tried to stand for yourself, maybe atleast have rejected the plan on moving here. You are never a vocal person and know to fight for your rights so you don’t have much more expectation but somehow you are letting them to have their ways with you. Simply, you are sttracted to them. You are ignoring their behaviours, them calling you with nicknames and treating you as if…..you are their family member. Well, you are kind of. A housemate.

Jaemin announces his arrival with a whistle and shouting ‘where is my little mate?’ Again, those names. But deep down you are loving it. You are even questioning yourself as to why you are appreciating everything regarding them. But let it aside as food is here and nothing can be prioritised more than this. You had a great lunch with three of them and then when Jaehyun excused himself for having some important works and left the house. You are left back with two sweat hearts. Their playful jokes, flirting here and there and the famous smirks plastered on their face when you are so shy on their compliments. You compared your life back in your previous house with this present and now you see how lonely you were when living all alone but as everything happens for better and now you are here laughing with these two. Everything was going usual until this certain person entered the dining area.

“I see you are having a great time with my brothers, Love.”

Oh, how you forgot that not those three are your only housemates but this menace too. You try to act normal even if the scene from last day is bugging you and Jaemin’s eyes sticked in your figure is not helping it. His eyes dancing between you and his brother and judging how you are shifting in your place. Jeno’s hands come to place on top of yours and with an assuring smile, he nods his head and turns back to his brother who has just entered.

“You are early today, Mark.” Jeno asks.

Mark’s gaze is still on you and you are well aware of it but trying your best to ignore it and focus on the food before you even if you want to run away from the current situation yet you don’t want to waste your favorite food so its better be like this.

“Yeah, Jaehyun would be there to handle the other stuffs so I guess I won’t be needed today and its good as our dear housemate is here.”

Jaemin furrows his eyebrows, “What’s with you calling her love?” You cough on hearing him. He is not going to tell them about what he did to you in your office. Right? It’s nothing much but still. Jeno hands you a tissue and Jaemin continues, “Have you guys met yet?”

Mark widely smiles and takes the seat beside Jaemin and that’s across from you, “Yeah, of course.”

“Where?” Jeno is curious too as where his brother got the chance to meet you outside the house.

“Apparently, the meeting I had yesterday which I thought wont be much useful had me otherwise. It was a lot more interesting than I had ever expected.” Mark is following your every reaction.

“You both were in the same meeting?” Jaemin asks his brother and looks at you.

“Yes and that even she was sitting beside me. She was late though. Very irresponsible employee.” Mark chuckles before adding, “but we had fun right, Y/n?”

Hearing your name from him is reminding you how close you both were yesterday and now those thoughts with these men’s piercing gaze is a lot for you.

“Ye-yes.” Even when he is having this cheerful personality still you are getting nervous in front of him. You need to get out of here. You turn towards Jeno catching him already staring at you.

“Jeno, please show my room. I would like to freshen up and unpack few things which I need for tomorrow.”

He nods and offers you to follow him towards the stairs. The feeling of two lingering stares are tingling you but knowing whose are those, you don’t look back but quickening your steps to follow the large steps of Jeno.

You were sure of getting a nice, cozy and big bedroom but never in a while you thought it to be this big, it’s such a luxurious one. Your shocked eyes are in awe with the room and the decorations are on point with the mixtures of the pastel colours with the proper blending of the colours of sheets and the curtains. The unique and elegant furnitures placed nicely at the exact places is having the exact soft vibes that you wish to come to home after each stressful day at work. They are really asking for much less money for such a lavish place. Now, the money is still a separate topic for you.

“Wow. This is so nice. Who has decorated it?” You are still in awe and touching everything so delicately as if it might break under your touch.

“Mostly Jaehyun as he has given his whole heart while preparing this room for you and me and Jaemin has helped him out with everything. Jaemin is very picky when it’s come to perfection so that’s all about.”

“I love it so much. Thanks for your time in preparing all these. It was not necessary but still I appreciate it so much.”

Even when you are happy that they have worked hard to prepare your room together, your mind still wonder where Mark was during all that time. Is he not liking that you will be staying here? Casting a glance at the man standing beside you, you sit on the edge of the bed and call his name, catching his attention and he looks up from his phone.

“What about Mark?”

He raises his brows, “What about him?”

“Does he not like me staying here? You said you all have done this then where was he?”

He fishes his phone inside and takes slow steps towards you, “well my pretty one, he is kind of busy with his meetings and overseas events so basically he is barely at home but he has some other surprises for you.”

“Other surprises?”

“I don’t know anything more other than this.” He stands in front, so close to you that you have to look up to meet his eyes. He leans down and you lean a bit back to give him space but that was not the deal. He cages you in his arms, his breaths fanning your shoulders, he whispers, “I see you are worrying about Mark when I’m right in front of you.”

Your hands move up to push him away when he takes a gentle hold of it and stare at your eyes, blinking between your eyes and lips. When you lick them, it seems more kissable and he is just trying his best to control himself. Your shocked eyes staring back at him.

“Jeno…”

“Am I not enough to worry for?” He asks you in a low throaty voice. Damn, you feel so under control with the voice that you feel like submitting yourself to him but again. It’s just you overthinking about their motives, they are just some huge flirts playing around with you and nothing is serious. You don’t know why but you just nod. Your heart racing and breath heaving due to this close proximity, you can feel him leaning down closer and anytime, he might can kiss you.

Just a few inches more, his breaths are slipping inside through your lightly parted lips and his hand holding your wrists has loosened. Your back is almost touching the sheets. You gulp but not stopping him and letting him. LETTING HIM TO KISS YOU.

Someone knocks at the door and your hands push him from over you. He stands straight and brushes his hair. He is half annoyed for getting interrupted by someone from the other side of the door who is continuously knocking and calling out your name.

“What happened, Jaemin?” Jeno asks his brother but maintaining an eye contact with you.

“What are you doing there? Let me have-“Jaemin got cut off when Jeno abruptly opens the door to which the other man who was leaning against it got stumbled.

“What the fuck man! I was about to fall.” He glares at the man who has opened the door but the latter has the same expression in return. He then turns towards you to see that you are having a flushed expression and faking a smile.

“Woah! Did I miss something? Why are you blushing? Did he-“

Jeno presses his palm over his brother’s mouth before dragging him out. It’s a little nice to see the brotherly bonding but you just got up and quickly close the door and leans to it, releasing a deep breath.

Am I that dumb?

You are letting them being so close to you. Not as a friend but more than that. Friends don’t pull you towards them and whispers and leans down to kiss you. You are just giving in to them and this is the thing that is not screaming inside you.

……….

One week. You had been given one week time to pay off the rent and you know that you are fucked up. You blamed yourself for infinite times why you have spent so much on those dresses and jewelleries which you don’t even know when you had last worn them. You are very calculative about your expenditure but you can’t help yourself in buying costly dresses and some useless stuffs for which you have to regret a lot, the way you are right now. Last month, you had a trip with your old town friends and that’s also the reason why you are having shortage of money. The rent for this month was already paid off to the previous owner so you were not worrying about that but you didn’t have in the plan to move to another place and pay your three months rent in advance. It’s a bit high in value than the previous but cheaper than the rest available on the site.

So, today in the end of the week, you have decided to have a talk with Jaehyun about the money. You are so nervous to meet him as you had promised him last time that you would pay him but now here you are now making your way to his room. You are just about to knock when you can hear a voice.

“What’s my love doing here?”

Turning around you are met with him, only in his jeans, drying his hair with the towel and oh gosh, he is shirtless. You quickly turn towards the door. You can hear his laugh and footsteps. Your hope of him going away crashes down when you feel him back-hugging you. Isn’t it too much for knowing you only just for one week?

“Mark, move.”

“Why? I like it this way.” His cold lips touching the warm skin of your neck, you are sure he just had a shower. You hold his hands around you and worryingly looking at the door. Jaehyun can open his door anytime but you don’t want him to see you like this in this state with Mark.

“We should not do this. Jaehyun might see us and- “

“He won’t be a problem here.” He plants a soft kiss and a shiver runs down your body and his nose nudges in your loose hair, inhaling your sweet scent. “But tell me, do you not like it?”

Do you? If not, then girl push him away. He is being a tease here. You don’t want him to take advantage of you being the only girl in this household. But it’s not like he is taking advantage as you are lowkey loving the way he is holding you tight in his embrace, his breath is the only air surrounding you and your brain fuzzing with the multiple thoughts. This little moment got interrupted with the opening of the door in front of both of you. You try to push him away but he holds you tighter.

“Y/n, what are you doing?” He takes in the view in front of him and clenches his jaw, brushing his hair back, he looks at Mark with raised eyebrow, “And Mark? You are here and also with her.”

“Jealous? Well, little missy was looking so tensed standing in front of your door so I thought to cheer her up and I guess we were having fun but you interrupted us.” Mark smirks in the end of his statement and rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Jaehyun…”

Mark stands straight and comes beside you and Jaehyun’s glares to his brother turns into a soft expression on hearing your sweet voice. “Yes?”

Mark leans to the wall beside the door frame but his eyes are still checking you out.

“I have something important to say.” You look between them and add “but with you alone.”

“Oh, come on dude, why can’t I be included here?”

“Mark, get the fuck out.” Jaehyun pushes him away when he tried to enter the room with you. As soon as he offered you to enter, he pushes the other one out despite his complains and shut the door.

“So, Y/n. What’s there bothering you?”

“Um, like you know today it was supposed to be me paying off the rent but I’m sorry that I couldn’t arrange for it.” You are looking down with guilt and fearing that he might say you to leave the house tomorrow but you are still hoping him to atleast consider your condition.

“Do you have any major problem?”

“no. its just I might have spent my money recklessly that now, when I’m in need I don’t have.”

He chuckles on your pout and grabs your shoulder, his dimples having an appearance, “So, how much time do you need until you can arrange for it?”

“By the end of this month. When I will get my pay-check in hand, I would definitely pay you.”

“And if you can’t?” He is staring deeply in your orbs.

“I will do anything for you. Just don’t kick me out this house.”

“Anything?”

You pause for a moment and lick your lips. His eyes read your every little reaction and shifting your hands on his wrist.

“Yes.”

...............

Living with these four men is an adventure for you. Most of the daytime, you all are out of the house, having separate lives at your own workplaces but the rest of the day is crossing paths with them often. You haven’t been friends with boys ever in your life but living with four men is a thing no one would have ever expected from you, not even you. So, it’s giving you a new experience and that’s being sexually frustrated around them. You haven’t been laid before and their playful touches, them being close to you and handling you as they want and them flirting with their seductive voices is not helping the condition. Everything is becoming too much for you, they are well aware of your irritated self when they are teasing you and leaving you high and dry but who are you to complain about this. Even if you haven’t been experienced this, it’s not like you are going to miss this once in a blue moon opportunity to slip through your hands. You are skill-fully wearing skirts higher often and you know their hawk eyes following you all around the house. You are well aware of the mischievous and not so pleasant thoughts running through your mind. Sometimes whenever you catch them looking at you, you run off but secretly you smile to yourself. They sometimes even sneak inside your bedroom at night and the reason is that they are bored and they want you to spend time with them and you happily have your time with them either watching movies or going out for long drives and walking.

You never had so comfort and peace coming back from work, either one of them will always prepare the food for you and the other would prepare the bath for you and you really appreciate it so much. You all have become close in these few days so much as if you know each other for a long time, maybe that’s the perk of having roommates. Always, one of them tries to come home early before than you so you don’t have to come to home alone. Standing at the entrance, smiling widely with some gifts. Yeah, it’s their habit of gifting you something or the other. Sometimes, it’s just a chocolate or an earring or any makeup products or dresses. You have told them several times not to spend so much but Jaehyun is always ending the conversation.

“You aren’t going to tell me what to do for my baby.”

And Mark giving you his infamous smirk. Well, previously it was the conclusion you had that Mark is the biggest pervert and flirt in this household but you were so wrong when you noticed some change in behaviour with Jeno and Jaemin. Jeno has a complicated personality, if he wants to be sweet with you, he will smile softly, giving you little hugs and asks you if you need something but if he is frustrated with something, maybe due to your endless teasing them with you walking around the house being so oblivious of their stares, he would have a tough façade like asking you why you are suddenly so late coming from your work, why you are wearing this particular dress, why you are being a bad girl. Bad girl? Now that’s a thing which you often hear from Jaemin as well, this guy is always having an expression which you can’t decipher whether it’s a smirk or a teasing smile. He would always be smiling at you but the words coming out his mouth are just in contrast with it.

Jaehyun is the eldest one so he is a bit secretive with his behaviour but you know his eyes are always on you, only you. If he ever offers you a glass of water or a cup of coffee, his fingers would brush over yours while handing over the cup to you and him maintaining the eye contact all the way until you are finishing your drink. Mark again had another meeting at your office and he specially wanted your presence in the meeting and you know the reason, just to ask you stupid questions and to show people that you know each other more than others. It’s very common these past days for him to give you rides to your office.

Surprisingly, they even brought you to an official meeting to a grand cuisine. You first thought that they were joking but it’s so clear when Mark handed you a red dress to wear.

“Well, I would not have bought it if we were joking. So sorry that I wasn’t being the part to decorate the room and your welcome party but this is my little gift to you.”

That was not the only thing as he suddenly puts a diamond teardrop necklace around your neck.

“What’s this for?” You ask him while touching the expensive item on you.

“To let others know that you are ours.”

Ours. You are hearing this term a lot from them even also today before they went out for meeting. Yes, today is the day when you are supposed to pay off the rent and you would be cleared of all the debts and the tension of owing them would be gone. But the message popped up on your phone screen was not really expected. Jeno has texted you that they wont be coming back home tonight as they are stuck at the place due to the bad weather so they would be returning the next day maybe at afternoon or evening. You have a pout on reading the texts. Even others have texted the same following him. Without caring about much of your diet, you grab some snacks and binge watched some shows whole night.

It is late afternoon when you hear the unlocking of the front door and you know that they are finally back. You got down the stairs quickly to greet them back but uh oh. Why are they looking at you like that? Oh gosh! You are only in your oversized t-shirt hanging loose on your frame and now you realised that how you fell asleep during dawn after binge watching whole night. They are still in their business suites must be tired but still managing to look the best out of all and here you are despite being home, looks more messed up than them.

“What were you doing?” Mark asks you while taking off his coat and placing it on top of the sofa.

“I-I was sleeping.”

Jaehyun asks you in worry, “Did we wake you up?”

“No no. I was just awake when I heard the door. I’m sleeping for so long since morning and I must be stinking.”

“Why? Are you sick?” Jaemin is already ready to call the doctor.

“No, I was bored last night and binged watched some shows and it went like that.”

Jeno scoffs, “Again watching those stupid dramas.”

“Hey!” You try to protest against him to which he raises his brow and smirks, but suddenly you remember an important thing and speak out loudly catching their attention, well it was already on you anyways. “I got the money for the rent. I will give it you right now.”

When you turn back, Mark speaks up, “Let us all freshen up and then we can talk about that.”

There is nothing to talk about but still you nod and go to your room as you need to do your routines as well.

After almost two hours, you got a text from Jaehyun asking you to come to his room. You took the money from on top of the night stand and skipped to his room. You knock on the door and call out his name but no response. First of all, it was weird to send you text when he is just in the other room away few steps across from yours. Again, the next thing is his text was just not even two minutes ago and now he suddenly not replying you. Did he just leave? Hearing some shuffles from inside, you push open the door. You are met with darkness and search for the switches to turn it on.

“Jaehyun, are you there?”

Silence.

“Jaehyun…”

You feel someone wraps their hand from behind and resting their face in the crook of your neck. Wet sloppy kisses and nose lightly tapping your ear. You feel hands tightening around you and teeth nibling on your skin. still STILL you are not protesting it. You know his cologne and his touch well as everyday he is the one who offers you the morning coffee.

“You smell so sweet.” He whispers in your ears, biting it lightly before kissing down the jaw. “tell me to stop.”

“I brought the money.”

Someone stands in front of you and takes the envelope from your hand. “I don’t think this is the actual amount.”

“Yes that is. that is the amount of three months.”

Pushing away the hairs to the other side, he mumbles on your shoulder, “No. That’s not. You were supposed to give it yesterday but now you are late for one whole day. So, you have to pay the interest.”

“What? But you all were not there.”

“Uh ah. It is what it is.” The person before you, speaks up and well that laugh following in the end of his statement is making it obvious that he is Mark.

Jaehyun is still mumbling sweet words to you and most commonly ‘my baby’.

“You said you are going to do anything if you can’t pay the money on time so, will you?”

“But-“ Someone turns on a dim light inside the room. Mark holds your chin to make you look up, “Will you?”

“….yes.”

Yes what? What are you agreeing for? Just run out of the room. Jaemin emerges from the bathroom and his smirks following his eyes scanning your whole body just in shorts and a loose t-shirt. He comes beside Mark to get the envelope and places it on top of a table. Jaehyun has the best view of the outside from his room and your eyes watching it when it got interrupted by when Mark pulls your face closer.

“Tell us to stop.”

You didn’t. You didn’t even dare to look away from his big round hipnotising eyes. His thumbs brushing your lips so delicately as if it’s made of glass. Mark leans down but pauses when he is just a breath away from your lips. You are aching for him to kiss but this man knows how to tease and his damn smirk on seeing you frustrated.

“Just kiss me already.”

His eyes take in the every detail of your face, admiring you up so close even when he teases you every day but not like this when you are so turned on and frustrated for him and your body aching for his lips. With a last look, he closes the distance between your lips. His kiss starts with the soft movements and slow rhythm as if he is calculating his next step but soon it turned into teeth clashing with each other, hands gripping tightly on your neck leaving marks and you can feel Jaehyun has retreated himself. Kiss is heating up and you can feel him smiling in the kiss when his other hand snakes under your tee only to find out you are not wearing anything.

“No bra?”

You are really embarrassed. You didn’t think about earlier to be in this situation when he called you in his room. You thought to just give him the money and go back to your room. Thinking, they must have been tired from last day and craving for some sleep but all you can see is them craving for something else. His hand messages one of your breasts and other one adjusting the position of your face to get a better access.

You part your lips from Mark to take a deep inhale when he flicks your nipple. You feel someone playing with your waistband and you look to your back to see Jaehyun smiling down at you.

“Tell me to stop.” When he sees you with no sign of stopping him, he chuckles, “I will then take that as a yes.”

Tell him to stop for what? You generally don’t know anything about this. You haven’t been fucked by anyone before but this new sensation is really exciting you when you are under the watch of four set of eyes. You know once you are into this then you cant escape it but when you are enjoying this too much then why to stop it all of a sudden.

Jaehyun’s hand disappear into your shorts and he chuckles darkly in your ears, “I see you are wet for me.”

“For us.” Mark adds while pumping both of your breasts, earning low moans out of you.

Jeno brings his attention towards him to your side, cupping the jaw tightly and you know, it’s turning red under his hold. His dark eyes staring down at you, “I see you are so in need of us like we are for you.”

You nod in compliance without any hesitation and that’s when he crashes his lips on you. He doesn’t want to waste time on going softly and his aggressiveness is all visible in the kiss, so out of rhythm but still you are enjoying it. Not sure how long you’ve been kissing for, only until Jeno tugs on your hair and pulls you closer to him. You are so lost in the kiss that you didn’t notice when Mark has put down your shorts along with his t-shirt and pants.

“Jeno, get the fuck off. It’s my turn to taste the sweet lips.” Jaemin complains from his place while leaning against a wall.

“Shut up.”

Parting from the kiss, you can feel the palm cupping your mound and pressing it tightly. You whimper and clutch Mark’s bare shoulder.

“Jaehyun….”

“You like it huh!” His deep voice whispering in your ears and fingers rubbing your clothed heat is earning moans out of you. As soon as Jeno turns his head, he is shoved off by Jaemin, who even pushed Mark aside to cup your face in his palms.

“I just want to fuck you so bad and show them that only I can make you scream and feel the best.” Jaemin made others growl with his statement. He is not getting fazed by it but getting lost with you, with the feel that you are finally in his hands and that all flushed up and turned on.

“Don’t be a jerk right now, Jaemin” Jeno growls.

Jaemin gives you small pecks, giving kitten licks to your lips before sucking them so hard that they appear thick jelly. Being satisfied, he starts kissing you. He is almost eating your half of the face, not caring how your hands holding his biceps tightly with every bite of his on your lips and every tight press on your heat by the other person’s hand. You are feeling a tickling sensation in your stomach when Jaehyun rips of his hand leaving you whimpering in Jaemin’s hold.

He goes to sit on the edge of the bed and calls out to Jaemin to give others chance. Others laugh when you whine in losing every contact from your body. Your heated up body aching for everything, for their touch, for them to ruin you. You are insane for them at this point.

Jaehyun signals you to sit on his lap and obediently you follow him, sitting on him and placing your hands around his neck. His hand comes up to brush your hairs and play with them and you smile at him.

“You are so beautiful and the prettiest baby.” Curling some strands around his fingers, “I just want to ruin you and see this pretty face begging me to stop until you are at the mercy of hell.”

“And what if I want to be ruined?”

His shocked eyes staring back at you. He never thought of you replying back to him like this but having you like this is making him go hard. He is in his boxers and if you look around the room, they all are except Jeno whose shirt is unbuttoned and showing the abs.

“I see you are liking it so much that your little mouth is talking back.”

Jaemin had it enough, “now when it’s your turn, you all are taking time as if we got one long week to fuck her continuously but when it’s mine, you are hurrying up as if we going to run late for 9 to 5 job and we would be fired on being late.”

Mark chuckles before patting him, “it’s okay my dear brother. You will be getting your chance and we won’t be interrupting again.”

Your mind was off to the place where the two brothers were slightly bickering when you feel Jaehyun biting your neck and trailing juicy kisses all over the throat and jaw. His hands slides inside the tee to play with your nipples, flicking them, rolling between his fingers. Your every shift on his lap is earning a groan from him as his clothed painful tip is getting brushed by your wet clothed heat. He brings his lips to yours and bite it down before hungrily kissing it. You are a mess of whimpers and moans and it’s like music to them. He is giving equal attention to both of your breasts and pumping so hard that you gasp in the kiss.

The others are getting hard with the view unfolding in front of them. There is shuffle on the bed behind Jaehyun and when you both break the kiss, you see Mark sitting against the headboard with legs wide spread in front.

“Now come here.”

Jaehyun pats your cheek before placing you on the bed beside him, you crawl to Mark and when you try to sit on his lap, he turns you around and places between his legs, facing to others.

“This is nice. They can have a great show ahead.”

He pulls your shirt up even when you hesitate but he simply held you down and rips the tee off from you. Your hands automatically comes in action to hide yourself but he pins them down behind your back.

“Don’t even dare to go against me.” He guides your hand over his length and wraps your fingers around it, he groans on feeling your soft warm hand around his thick hardened dick.

“Ah fuck! Keep going.” He moans in your ears.

Jeno got on the bed and Jaehyun still sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at you hungrily. Jeno comes in front of you and pecks you before sliding your panty down.

“You are perfect for us.”

Mark slides a finger in,Jeno bent down to lace his mouth with your exposed breast. You whimper with both of them toying with you. Marks fingers pumping in and out of you and Jeno’s tongue licking your hard nipples, pulling them between his teeth and then sucking the whole. You are already a mess just under their mouth and fingers

Jeno’s other hand grabs your other breast giving it a squeeze and you moan out his name when Mark slaps your pussy for not getting the attention. Jeno’s saliva trailing down your chest to stomach and Marks pace increases with the addition of fingers. Your body arch with the pleasure running down your veins, you hum and moan dreamily.

“Are you near?” Mark asks you planting a kiss on your cheek. You nod to him and hand squeezes his cock. He pushes your hands off from him.

“Words, love.”

“Yes yes. I want to come. Please.”

“That’s a good one. Cum for me.”

As soon as his words fall from the lips, you scream out his name for the first orgasm of the night. They all have the satisfactory smile on their faces. You come on his fingers and Mark licks the fingers before turning you around and Jeno sit up on his knees and Jaehyun pats his back.

Jaemin in the other hand watching you with hooded eyes and hand stroking his length and imagining you doing it.

Mark pats your head and smiles at you, “ride me.” You haven’t look at him up so closely before but he has the youthfulness and attractive smile. His doe eyes and flawless skin is a perfect addition to his charming face. He is kind of cute and a soft one when it comes to sex.

You grind on his thigh on hearing his words before placing yourself on the length. You hiss and cry out with the stretch but he slowly guides you and shush you with massaging your sides. Your eyes closed tightly and the pain making your whole body still.

“It’s okay love. You can do it. Just move, the pain will go away.”

You did as he told you and slowly slowly the pain is turning into pleasure. You haven’t fully got off the high from the previous orgasm but still having the feel of the building of knot in your stomach. The burning sensation of the stretch is still there but blinding by the sensation of you reaching to your climax.

“Fuck, you are so tight and feels so good. A perfect one for me.” He taps on your thigh, “eyes on me. I want to see you coming.”

Few more thrusts hitting the exact spot, your body shakes for the release and you come undone following him. You lay on top of his chest when he flips your position and kissed you.

Mark pulls out from you and Jeno shoved him aside.

“Such a pretty one, laying down all fucked up and ready for me. I want to see you crying and whimper under me.”

Your mind not registering what he is saying but your body got so sensitive when he hovers on top of you, watching you like an animal watching his prey. Your hands go up to touch his face, he quickly gets a hold of it and guides them to his abs. Your fingers tracing every bumps until it goes down to touch his hard painful dick, he holds your wrists and pins them above your head.

Inhaling your scent in the neck, he parts your legs wide enough to place himself. His other hand tracing your curves and rubbing your thighs and toying your leaking entrance with his tip. Your whimpers and whines earning smirk and chuckles from him. Your hips raising up to get in touch with his dick is amusing him. Your sobs are a great view to them. Mark is again hard seeing you like this.

“Be ready for me princess. I won’t be gentle like Mark.”

With that he enters your entrance without any warning, your loud moans filling up the entire room and them watching you falling apart under their merciless brother.

“You feel so good. Fuck! I’m getting addicted to it. I can’t even get enough of you.” He growls with his inhumane pace. He didn’t even let you to adjust before he starts moving. You can feel him much bigger than Mark and it’s already too much for you. Getting laid for the first time and having used by four of them is excess.

His tip hits your g-spot and you scream on the sensation. He smirks at your reaction and starts to whisper filthy stuffs in your ears, making you clench around him.

“Jeno please slow down.” Tears rolling down your eyes but he doesn’t have any care but still pushing himself inside of you. You can feel his tip poking your stomach.

“Please, slow down.”

Ignoring you, he is slamming into your pussy with you begging under him and clutching his hands under his entangled hold. Veins popping on his forehead is making him more hot.

“I know you want to cum. So cum for me.”

You let it loose with a scream of his name and soon he cum inside of you. The cumming of him inside of you is a different sensation and it’s turning you on more and heating up your body, fuzzing your mind. The overstimulation is making you whine and soon you both ride out your high.

He slowly pulls it out. Your hands clutching the bedsheet and pulling it, toes curling with the sensation of being overwhelmed. Your whole body is sensitive. Each touch is like an igniting tip. Jaehyun taps your cheek, “are you still here?”

You hum in response and he smiles in satisfaction.

“On hands and knees baby. I would like to see how your ass fits me in.”

“W-What?” You stammer.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Jaehyun assures you. “It’ll feel good, you just have to trust us. You can be a good girl for us tonight, right?”

“I-I don’t think I’m r-ready for this-“

“You are,” Jaehyun soothes. “Don’t worry.”

“No no please. I can’t take anymore and this…I can’t do it please.”

Your protests were deaf to their ears when Jaemin shifts you to the desired position with your ass pointing exactly in front of Jaehyun’s dick. He is using his arousal as the lube around his cock and slams inside of you. You cry out but not for long as Jaemin slammed his cock inside your mouth.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Jaehyun hisses and hold your hip still. “Your ass is taking me so well and as if it’s made for me.”

You whine around Jaemin’s cock and when he doesn’t got any reply, Jaehyun spanks your ass leaving a red mark of his handprint.

The stretch is so painful and tears continuously falling down your face at the feeling. Jaehyun is spanking you to see the vibrating muscles of your ass and the red marks urging him to thrust deeper. His has started with rhythmic thrust with Jaemin but soon became uneven.

“So good, you’re doing so good.” Jaemin praises. “Your mouth feels so warm and I want you to suck me everyday. You will do it, right?”

You didn’t reply but nod with his cock deep down your throat, choking you. Jaehyun spits on his dick and slams harder. You can feel him hitting your sweet spot.

“Can’t reply huh?”

Jaehyun chuckles, “don’t be mean Jaemin. She is stuffed with your cock inside her mouth. What do you expect?”

Jaemin grabs your hairs in a fist and pushes your face closer to him. Aggressively thrusting inside your mouth, he pulls out leaving you gasping for air.

“Open your mouth wide and close your eyes.”

You don’t have any room to protest so you did as he told you. Then you can feel hot liquid pouring inside your mouth and hitting your face, slipping to your jaw throat and chest, mixing with your sweats.

“No more…please…I can’t.”

Jaemin pats your cheek and plants a kiss on top of your head.

Jaehyun is still reaching his climax and you are about to cum.

“I’m near.”

“Hold it.”

“No no I can’t. I want to cum.”

“Either you are holding it in or you are not cumming tonight.”

Your exhausted body couldn’t protest anymore. Your cries are interrupted when Mark enters his finger inside your moth shushing you.

“It’s okay. It’s the last one and you can do it.”

Jaemin and Jeno playing with your nipples from both the sides leaving you a moaning mess. Jaehyun’s thumb rubbing your clit, igniting your climax. You are speaking gibberish and they don’t mind it. Every last muscle of your body is holding you back . You are sucking on Mark’s fingers for dear life.

“Cum for me baby.”

He couldn’t even complete his sentence that your whole body shakes under their hold. Them squeezed your nipples and Jaehyun spanked you again, Mark pushed his fingers deeper making you choke on them. You are still moaning out Jaehyun’s name around Mark’s fingers.

Jaehyun soon cum inside you and slowly rides out his high. As soon as they felt your body giving up. They stop their action and puts you in the middle of the bed, laying on your back. Your droopy eyes trying to open but Mark places his palm over them.

“Shh…close it. Jaemin is preparing a bath for us and maybe we can have round 2.”

You almost whisper it out, “no please I can’t.”

“Hey, I’m kidding. He is just preparing the bath for us to get freshen up. Me and Jeno will clean up so don’t worry and take rest.”

You turn towards Jeno, “you all came inside me. Did you have the protection?”

“Of course not. Why do we need that? When we can take care of you and our baby?”

You got shocked, “baby? I don’t want to get pregnant. We just had this with the flow. We are not married. We can’t have a baby.”

Mark brushing the hair away and pulling a cover on top of you, smiling down at you “if after this you are still not pregnant then we have to try again.”

“What?”

“You are ours and the baby is ours too. So you don’t have a say here.” Jeno proudly says.

Jaehyun comes behind Mark, “if the marriage is the only thing holding us back then we will arrange for it soon.”

“No. This is not right.” You add, “And what about my rent?”

“Your rent was paid on the day when you first stepped your foot here for the first time.” Jeno states.

“What are you saying?”

“Don’t overthink now. We can discuss this later. Have some rest. Atleast, for now you are our responsibility.” Mark cooes you to sleep. Your exhausted body couldn’t manage to protest much and fell into sleep.

.

.

.

.

Jaemin emerges from the bathroom watching how his brothers staring at your sleeping figure.

“Is she sleeping?”

“Yeah, having so many thoughts inside her little brain but anyways they are not needed to be answered.” Jeno says and smiles at his brother.

“So my plan to bribe her house owner was good. We got her for ourselves after waiting for four years and scaring every boy whoever tried to approach her.”

Mark chuckles, “I was getting annoyed with watching her from afar every day. Everyday the scene from the party flashed in front of me of the day where we saw her for the first time. And I knew I need to get her.”

Jeno nods on agreeing with his brother. He could feel How it was painful and frustrating to see you everyday but couldn’t get near you unless they came up with this nice plan and that you are in their cage. You are not going to escape it soon.

“So, my plan worked for the best. Honestly, you all were great in acting on the first day.”

Jaemin smirks, “of course, Jaehyun.”

You are in a new place, not homeless but inside a cage. Do you want to escape or stay with them?

[ please do tell me whether you liked or not? If you liked it then please give it a reblog in appreciation.]

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @jaehunnyy @hyuukah @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @jenosbigtoe @loveforred @stolasisyourparent @zgzgzh @yuri-loves-taeyong @loblyjaywa @ethelia @sexygrass @haechansbbg @technologyculturedneo @mimi14berrybear @onlyoursol-ace @i4kt @zhonglele02 @toroufriteh @jsuhsweet @hismine @minkyuncutie @pe4ch14

[foreingersgod]

I LOVE THE FICS LATELY AND ALL THE TIME !!

one of them being the cc being obsessed with her gf , now i wanna see a kate martin being obsessed with her gf !!!

Always take rests !!!!

Work Song . KM

pairing: kate martin x reader

A/N: i’m not sure if anon wanted soft, tooth rotting obsession, but i yearn for sweetie pie kate so i hope it’s ok :’)

Boys workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burnin' heat?

kate was exhausted to say the least. practices, games…everything was really weighing down on her. she had so much on her plate all the time and it often got to be too much for her to handle. there was a lot of stress on her recently, being drafted and being the new girl on the team. she bared the overwhelming feeling of having to impress everyone, prove that she could handle it. and deep down she knew she could. kate was strong and smart and resilient, but her biggest fear was letting people down. letting you down.

that’s why, during times like this, she turned to you. her biggest supporter, her number one fan, her everything. you had been with her since the beginning. you were there for every meltdown and all the late nights spent in tears when kate felt like a failure. you were there for every loss and every win, there to clean up her nasty bruises and cuts. and now you were here to guide her through this huge change in her life. she wouldn’t be able to count on her fingers the amount of times you had truly saved her in the midst of all this. kate struggled with change, hated how she felt like she needed to start over with a whole new team and a whole new life. but you were there to remind her that nothing was going to change, you would still be with her every step of the way. all she needed was you, the most important thing in her life.

you were the reason she got up in the morning. you were the reason she kept pushing even when she felt like giving up. because she knew that at the end of the day, you’d be there with her, arms holding her tight to ground her. that you’d never leave her and, for that, she wanted to make you proud.

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love, I could barely eat

she was gone for the week, in another state for an away game. but a week was 7 days too long for kate, she couldn’t stand being away from you. she remembers the night before she left, how she was packing her things unwillingly as you made sure she had everything in her bag. you were trying so hard to get her excited, it was going to be one of her first games upon her pro-ball debut and you had assumed she’d be ecstatic. but instead she was sulking (typical kate), talking about how much she was going to miss you.

“i can’t believe you’re about to go live out your life long dream and you’re sitting here pouting” you teased. she knew you were right, and she really was quite excited, but the thought that you wouldn’t be there killed her.

normally you would attend like you always did, but you needed to take the week to focus on finishing up school. kate admired the way you prioritized your studies, but there were times like these in which she cursed your determination. all she wanted was to see you out there, amongst the crowd, cheering her on. a big ‘20’ plastered on your shirt to show your support and a gratifying smile on your face. you were her lucky charm, she would say. but now she here, far from home and missing her girl.

it was the night before the game and kate and the team had opted for a nice dinner out. something to hype everyone up and to boost morale…well that’s what she was told. but it did little to cheer her up and get her excited. she dreaded leaving her lonely hotel room, somewhat dim and weary without you there with her. it had been a long time since she stayed in a room without you. kate had to fight her own mind to attend dinner with the girls, just wanting to stay in and facetime you instead. nevertheless, she managed to get dressed up and make an appearance.

the entire night she was miserable, as expected. she wanted to join in on the conversations, talk about what her teammates were talking about. but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for herself. she was still jet lagged, tired, nervous, and definitely missing you. she couldn’t even eat her food because she couldn’t focus on anything else but the image of you. memories of your relationship flooded her mind as she messed with the food on her plate, all she wanted was to go back home.

not able to stand it anymore, she made some excuse about being sick so she could leave. she packed up the leftovers to bring back to her hotel room and bid everyone a good night. her time would be much better spent texting or calling you than feeling sorry for herself at the table.

finally, she made it back to her room. without a second thought she was changing her clothes and crawling into bed, pulling out her phone and pulling up your contact. she had no hesitation in clicking on the ‘facetime’ button.

the phone rang several times, making her worried that you had already gone to bed for the night. but, on the 4th ring, the call went through and your face appeared on the screen. it was a gorgeous sight, she thought, seeing you there. you had taken off your makeup already, pulled your hair back, and tucked yourself into your shared bed. oh how she longed to be in that bed right now. you had instantly smiled when you saw kate’s face, making her heart ache for you.

“hi baby!” you chimed.

and that’s all she needed to hear. all of her worries, doubts, all of her anxiety was out the window now. she had just wanted an ounce of your attention all day, and at last, she could relax finally having it.

There's nothin' sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

“what did you say?” kate whispered, so shocked that she could hardly speak.

tonight was not a usual one. you had come home upset and stressed out, the past few days you’d been struggling with your mental health. it wasn’t often that you had difficult days, but when you did, kate was at your side and ready to help you in whatever way you needed. but tonight you felt inconsolable.

with kate becoming more popular in the media with her upcoming career, there had been a lot of press coverage. you actually hadn’t had an issue with it, you were thrilled for her to see that she was getting so much attention. but with the praise and positivity online also came the negative parts as well. you had seen a few articles and instagram posts concerning yours and kate’s relationship. seeing your name in bold headlines caught your attention. it was a bunch of nonsense, really, some random person online blabbering about nothing. they were clearly bothered by the fact that you and kate were very much in love, writing about how ‘kate could find someone much better’ or how she ‘should be with someone in her own league’. you tried to remind yourself of how foolish that was, kate loved you deeply and wouldn’t ever think of leaving you for someone else. but, with your history of self image issues and mental health, it was hard to believe it yourself.

“i said,” you were both sat on the couch, thighs barely touching. tears streamed down your face as you had your head turned away from kate. you had seen another one of those damned articles earlier and it seemed to be your breaking point, sending you into a fit of sorrow “i said i don’t know why you’re still with me”

the statement had caught her quite off guard. how could you possibly think such a thing? had kate done something? were you suddenly falling out of love? her heart was shattering as she sat there, desperately trying to figure out what had gotten you upset.

“baby,” her hand found its way to your cheek, gently guiding your head to turn back to her. your eyes were red and your lashes damp as you locked eyes with her “how could you say that? i love you more than anything in the world-i don’t understand”

“i just…i’ve been seeing all of those posts about us, kate” sobs racked your body and you hiccuped to try and catch your breathe “i see all the things they say about us and i can’t help but feel like you deserve more than me”

she had known about those posts for some time now, since she saw you inspecting one the other day. it broke her knowing you were indulging in all the ridiculous things people were saying about your relationship.

“hey hey hey” she wrapped an arm around you, forcing you to move closer to her “i don’t want anyone but you, got it? you have no idea how fucking in love with you i am”

a scoff fell from your lips briefly before you shook your head. you wanted to believe her, but your mind was so convinced otherwise “you’re just saying that”

“well allow me to enlighten you then?” she prodded, wiping the tears from under yours eyes. with reluctance, you nodded.

“i have never loved someone so much in my life” she began “i don’t even know where to start because there’s so much i love about you that it would take forever to say it all. i love the way you love me. how you take care of me all the time without me having to ask. how you make me breakfast in bed and how you brush my hair before we fall asleep. i love how you send me pictures of cute things you see in the store when you should really only be getting groceries. i love that you cry during movies even if it’s supposed to be happy because it shows how deeply you love things. and i love that you always think of people, even though that sometimes means you forget to take care of yourself. but i love that too, i love that i get to be the person that shows you how much love you deserve. that i get to sit here on nights like these and tell you how wonderful you are. because it’s true. honey, you are the best thing that has every happened to me and i’d be fucking crazy to let you go”

she let out a deep sigh, having lost her breath from her confession. if she had anymore air in her, she’d still be rambling on and on. the two of you stared at each other for a faint moment, her blue eyes gleaming back at you. your bottom lip quivered as another tear rolled down your cheek, although this time, it was a cry of joy.

“kate martin,” you muttered, almost speechless “i love you so so much”

she just chuckled softly and smiled at you. she guided you into a much needed hug, feeling your head tuck itself underneath her chin and your arms fall over her shoulders.

“i love you a thousand times more”

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me

it was dark outside already, signifying the late hours of the night. you weren’t sure what time it was, definitely late enough that you should be asleep. but instead you and kate were both still up.

the orangey glow from your bedside lamp illuminated your bodies, creating silhouettes on the bedroom wall. kate was laid against the bed, back against the headboard and head tilted back. you were hovering over her as you straddled her waist with legs on either side of her figure. your head dipped down to her exposed neck, lips connecting lazily to her supple skin. eager hands roamed her shoulders and down the sides of her torso. her hands did the same, anxious to touch you wherever she could.

this was another instance in which kate unfortunately had to be away from home for an extended period of time. like every other time, she thought about returning home to you every second that she was gone. she hated not being able to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were right by her side. you had also been yearning for her arrival and hated her absence just as much. so when she was on her way home, she knew she would be having her way with you that night, no matter how late it might be. it may have been well into the early hours of this morning at this point, but the need to be with each other was a far greater need than sleep.

when she stepped foot in that house, she was already dropping her bags at the door and ridding of her shoes. sock clad feet marched quietly up the stairs as she began imagining kissing you for the first time in over a week. she pushed the door to your room open ever so gently, taking in your inviting presence. you had been fighting sleep, she could tell. your eyes peeking through low eyelids, hair messy from laying against the pillows, your lips turned in a sloppy smile. what a sight for sore eyes.

she was tempted to tell you to go to sleep, to get some rest that she knew you needed. but you were already sitting up and crawling over to her side of the bed where she now stood. one of her oversized tshirts hung loosely on your body, your lacey panties emerging from the bottom. before she had the chance to do so much as greet you, your hands were gripping her shirt and tugging her into you. soft lips molded into hers as you frantically kissed her. she took it as a sign that you needed her just as much as she needed you. so she let herself indulge, slithering into bed with you. articles of clothing were discarded to floor. your shirt thrown over your shoulder, kate’s sweatpants and top banished to a pile next to the bed.

now you were here, idly making out, taking each other in as much as possible. one might think you hadn’t seen one another in years by the way you both were acting. your bare chests were pressed together, creating arousing friction. kate’s fingers dug into the soft skin of your ass where her fingernails left small indents. she was breathing heavily and groaning as you left dark purple marks along her collarbone and the tops of her breasts, a reminder of your devotion. her hands pressed deeper into you, guiding your hips in a smooth rhythm of grinding against her lap. the room felt hot from the breathy moans and content sighs.

once you decided you were done marking the skin of kate’s chest, you made your way back to her lips. both of you were too tired to do anything other than this, just needing to be close to each other. not that you needed much else, having her lips on yours was enough to keep you satisfied. it was like your lips were meant for hers. they fit so perfectly together, moved against yours in the most delicious way.

kate let out another moan as she felt your lips grace hers. the sensation sent shivers through her veins. kissing you had to be the best feeling in the world to her. sometimes she felt sorry for the rest of the world, because what a sad life it would be to not know what it would be like to kiss you. and at the same time she felt so damn lucky that it was her, and only her, that got to know what this felt like.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down…

“i hope you know that i’m absolutely head over heels for you,” she said next to you “you do know that, right?”

you hummed in response, nose scrunching as you looked at her. the amount of guests at your wedding must have been well into the one hundreds, but right here in this moment, it was just the two of you.

underneath a sky full stars was the makeshift dance floor of your wedding venue, marbled tiles beneath your feet. twinkling lights lit up the quaint garden of your backyard that you and kate both decided would be the perfect place to hold your reception. it was the middle of your first dance as a married couple and it was the most perfect moment of your life. your dress swayed behind you in the breeze, hair cascading around your face elegantly. kate looked even more beautiful than she normally did, if that was even possible. both of her hands rested on your waist and your arms looped around her neck as you danced across the floor slowly. your wedding playlist sounded in the distance and your families were watching you with teary eyes, but you and kate were only focused on each other.

“i do,” you replied “i hope you know that i’m also madly in love with you”

“i do” she had repeated like she did during her declaration of intent at the ceremony. you would never forget the look on her face when she’d said it for the first time “i’m never going to get tired of this”

“of what? our first dance?” you laughed, head falling back briefly “hate to break it to you, babe, but i think it’s gonna have to end at some point”

she laughed too, shaking her head. she pulled you in closer as her eyes wandered over the features of your face.

“no” she grinned “of looking at you”

your face was already turning a bright shade of pink, you could feel it as you smiled, but you didn’t mind one bit. you let your arms fall from around her neck as you heard the song of your dance come to an end.

your hands traveled up to take her face in your hands, something you have done often, a small action of your love. they directed her face to drop down to your level. you got onto the tips of your toes to meet her half way, kissing her passionately like your life depended on it. both of you smiled into the kiss, hearing everyone around you cheer as your dance concluded.

and, god, did it feel good to be loved like this.

…I'll crawl home to her

༶•┈┈୨���୧┈┈•༶

A/N: i feel like this started out so good, but then i kinda fucked it up at the end, but i hope you all like it !!

[familyvideostevie]

the meaning of it all

joel miller x reader

summary: Joel Miller, of all people, teaches you to ask for help. 

word count: 13.6k

warnings: jackson au, post part i, joel and ellie worked it out! joel is soft! language, violence, fluff, learning to accept help and love.

a/n: this fic is a soft joel (think part ii joel but make it two years into jackson because he and ellie resolved everything <3) and a reader who is much more me than i've written before. i hope you like it! thank you again to @strangerfreaks who held my hand through this, i owe you my life.

___

Luck. God damned old-fashioned thank-fuck-for-that luck has kept you alive since the world ended. Deep festering rage and a near-constant state of fear have helped. But every bullet you've found, every undamaged can of food, every shot that landed in the right place so you were the last one standing -- that's all luck. Or a curse, depending on the day. Depending on how you're feeling about it all.

And Jackson? That's the biggest stroke of luck you've had in twenty years. A single woman on her own with plenty of working years left and no obvious red flags was probably a no-brainer for the community to take in but you feel like you've finally made it. After two decades of violence and horror and pain, you fucking made it somewhere safe.

You spend as much time as you can making sure everyone knows how grateful you are. You don't have any special skills, not really. You can shoot well enough, cook well enough, clean well enough. Young enough when all the shit went down that you don't have a trade or any work experience, you just go wherever they need someone in town.

Keeping busy means you're bone-tired most nights. Exhausted sleep means fewer nightmares, less time to wander the halls of your very nice but much too-big-for-you-home and miss everything you've lost. But picking up shifts wherever you can also means you don't meet many people beyond hellos and exchanging names. Farming is easy and you get to work with a lot of the kids in town, daycare much the same. You're lousy with power tools but you're able to carry materials wherever they're needed. Cooking is easy when it's stew for hundreds of people and doing dishes is even fun when someone turns on the radio. You're making it work.

Patrol is...patrol. You're able, so you're on the roster. It's not that you hate it, not exactly. Going outside the walls makes you feel like you're someone else. You slip back into the mask of fear and anger, the one that kept you alive for so long. And the worst part is it's comfortable. 

You've done the training runs, the group patrols for three months. Infected still freak you out a little but you're smart enough to be more scared of people. All of the senior patrol members have cleared you for paired patrols and today is your first one.

Tommy meets you at the stables to check-in.

You don't really have any friends, though everyone is perfectly nice to you, but Tommy and Maria are probably as close as it gets.  You figure they take a shine to newcomers like you, ones who come in alone, maybe to keep an eye on them as much as anything else. But they've both got a smile and kind word for you whenever you see them, always asking if you need anything. You always tell them no, you're fine, thank you.

"You ready?" Tommy says. "I've had them pull Apollo for you." You pat yourself one more time to make sure you have everything. Pistol on your thigh, knife at your hip, pack secure on your back. Hat and gloves tucked into your jacket pocket to account for the wind on the trails.

"I think so," you tell him. You blow a raspberry at your horse and he blows back, nudging your shoulder with his nose.

"After this, pretty sure you'll have done every job there is to do in this town. Pullin' crops, plantin' crops, cookin' crops. Kids, the library, cleanin', buildin' that ramp at Lenore's last month. You've been here, what, six months? And you've done it all."

It should make you feel good that he's noticed. It does, but only a little. You still feel like you could work every day for the rest of your life and not repay what he and this town have given you. To make up for the things you've done on the road.

"I'm the best floater in Jackson," you joke instead. Smiling makes people like you. You haven't had much cause to smile in recent years so you're still getting used to the urge. Tommy scoffs. "I don't do important council stuff like you and Maria, though."

He ignores that. "Y'know, pretty sure they call that a jack-of-all-trades. A real Ren-ai-ssance woman." You try to come up with a retort, eyes wandering to the patrol assignment board. Your name is under ELK CREEK and under it is --

"Quit harassin' her."  Tommy rolls his eyes and flips off whoever comes up behind you. You turn around and see a man you know of but have never actually met.

"Joel," Tommy says. "I believe this is called havin' a conversation. You ever tried it?"

"Funny," Joel replies. He nods at you. "You my partner today?"

"Seems so." You introduce yourself, Apollo's warm breath at your back.

"Joel Miller," he says back.

You're a little intimidated, truth be told. You know him by reputation mostly. Tommy's big brother who came to town a few years ago with a little girl. They're both pretty much everywhere. Joel fixing houses and talking to kids in the street, going on patrols and always bringing back extra for whoever needs it. Ellie galloping around town with other teenagers and bringing home the biggest game. You've handed her books a few times at the library, too, seen her bright eyes and infectious energy underneath teenage angst that transcends even an apocalypse. And you've seen them together, heads down in the dining hall or pressed closed walking down the street -- heard rumors about why they came here, how they came here, too -- and one thing is clear to you: the Millers are beloved. By this town and by each other.

It's a miracle all its own in this fucked up world.

"You two ain't met yet?" Tommy says, pointing at the space between you. You snap out of your thoughts. "You've been here long enough to have met everyone by now."

"Guess not," you say with a wry smile. The younger Miller is too polite to call you out for not having a single friend in that time period, either.

"Well, here we are," Joel says. "Gonna keep us here forever, Tommy? Or can we do our job?"

Tommy claps him on the shoulder and winks at you. "Tone down the asshole for her first paired patrol, yeah?"

Joel snorts. He grabs a horse that was already tacked for him and leads it out of the stable. You follow with Apollo. The patrol coordinator hands out rifles and reminds everyone of the rules.

You hop on your horse. "You ready?" Joel asks, startling you a bit. "We'll gallop to the mouth of the river and then start patrollin'."

Something in you relaxes a bit at his clear confidence in you to handle yourself. You know you're with him for a reason -- he's one of the best. That, or maybe he just doesn't give a shit. Somehow you think it's the former.

You follow him up the hill outside the gates and through the tree line. The noise of the Outside is different than that of Jackson. Birdsong, snapping branches and dry brush under your horse, the wind rippling down the hill. You take a deep breath through your nose and feel a part of you come alive. It's funny how a world so beautiful can be so deadly.

Joel gallops a little ahead of you, strong and steady. You watch him, think about what you know. He's older than you, that much is obvious. Greying hair curling around his ears, lines on his face from more than just a stressful life. But he's strong, good at what he does. Those rumors come back to the front of your mind. How he and Ellie showed up, half-starved and bloody. How he and Tommy are the most famed patrol duo for Infected kills and otherwise. It makes you feel safe. It makes you want to learn from him. It makes you want to know more.

And he's got kind eyes. Somehow, he's got kind eyes.

"Alright," Joel calls back to you. "Route starts here." He slows his horse and you pull up beside him. He shifts in his saddle and turns his face to you. "Now, I know this is your first pair," he says. "I won't order you around or nothin' but my main piece of advice is that everyone has a different patrol style. Know how to adapt."

You dig your gloves out of your pockets and wiggle them on. Joel watches before his eyes snap back to yours. "Noted." You honestly didn't think he'd talk this much. "And let me guess. Yours is patrol in silence?" You punctuate the nervous quip with a smile.

Joel snorts. "Nah," he says. "Unless you're Max. Can't stand that fucker."

It startles a laugh out of you and any ice you'd imagined breaks for good. Max is one of the middle-aged men who probably would have been a lawyer or a politician based on the way he likes the sound of his own voice.

"Now," Joel says. "You done this route before?" His knuckles are a little red but he doesn't put on any gloves.

"Twice, I think. First log book in that old station, right?" Joel nods. "Second in the town?" He nods again.

"Color me impressed." His mouth tugs up at the corner into something you might call a smile. You try not to look too pleased with yourself. "Some of the dipshits on the roster don't even remember that much."

It feels like you've passed a test. His praise makes you feel nice. Noticed. Not something you often seek but you know yourself well enough to admit that you'd like a little more of it. Even if it's from a man you just met.

"Not that hard," you say softly. Joel looks at you for a moment longer before clicking his teeth. His horse starts to walk. You signal to Apollo to follow.

The patrol goes off without a hitch. Joel signs the log book in the station and you sign it in the tower. He lets you snipe two runners that he spots and doesn't scold you when you take three tries on the second one.

"Settlin' in okay?" he asks once you've rounded the town one last time and started back towards Jackson. "Six months, Tommy said?"

Despite his earlier words, you haven't chatted much this patrol. While you'd like to know more about him, want to get him to smile at you again, you're really just enjoying being out here with someone else, knowing that you're safe. That you've got somewhere to go back to.

"It's nice," you sigh. "I never imagined I'd find a place like this."

You really should pick up the pace to get back to town but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry.

"I know the feelin'," he murmurs. "Ellie'n me slept on the floor for a good two weeks at the start. Been two years and some nights I don't take my boots off."

"What a fucking life, huh?" That earns you a wry smile. "Having a house is...strange. All of the hinges squeak and I --"

"The hinges squeak?" You look over at him and Joel's brows are furrowed.

"Oh, I mean, it's no big deal --" You stumble over apologies. You don't want him to think you're complaining about a home his brother gave you when he sure as shit didn't have to.

Joel taps his thumb on the pommel of his saddle. "Can get that fixed, y'know."

You didn't know, actually. "Really?"

Now he looks at you like you're a little stupid. "Ain't you the one hauling shit to people's houses when they need a hand?"

He has a point and you hate it. It never occurred to you to ask for someone to come fix your hinges. They're just hinges, for fuck's sake. Other people have holes in their floorboards or leaks or need new rooms for family members. You're just...you.

Joel sighs. It feels like you've disappointed him and it swirls in your gut. "I'll take a look at it this week."

Your neck cracks audibly with how quickly you look up at him. "What? No, Joel, you don't have to --"

He says your name in a tone that you know means no arguing. "I know I don't have to. I offered."

"You don't even know me!" The words fly from your mouth before you can stop them.

He brings his horse to a full stop so quick you almost run into him.

"Look," he says. His gaze holds yours. Wow, he really can be intimidating when he wants to be. You can only imagine the things he's done, the things he's capable of. Anyone who has made it this long has blood on their hands. You've washed it from your own skin plenty of times. And yet, you feel completely safe. And you know that you'll probably do whatever he tells you. "I know how it can be."

Your gut swirls. "You don't know what I've been through," you say softly. It's not a jibe, it's just the truth. No one knows because you've told no one because it doesn't matter. You're here now.

"I've been alive for a while longer than you," he continues. "I've seen the world, just as you have. I've been out here. I was out here for a long, long time." He runs a hand through his beard, fiddles with his broken watch in what looks like reflex. "I know how hard it is to ask. To get back to something that makes any damn sense. But you can if you try."

The words linger in the chill around you. He's right, obviously. He's so fucking right that you want to be mad. You haven't asked for anything because you don't want to fracture the good thing you've got. Don't want to be too much, to be a burden they can't support, to make people think you don't deserve to be in Jackson. All things that don't make any fucking sense, not really, but you can't stop them. It's just how you're wired.

"So I'm comin' over this week to fix those hinges. Alright?"

"Alright." Something in Joel softens when you agree.

"Good," he says. "Good."

You finish the patrol in comfortable silence. All told it's been nice. To talk to someone, to feel like they give a shit about you even for just a few hours. You have no doubt Joel will be over to fix your hinges but you figure it'll fizzle out after that -- it always does. You don't know how to ask someone to stick around, anyway. But even this little bit of him will have been worth it.

Something both loosens and tightens in your chest when you get back to Jackson and through the gates. Goodbye beautiful, horrible outside world, hello safety, community, home. It's a trade-off. You and Joel hop off your horses and return your rifles. You're about to hand Apollo off to be brushed and returned to the stables when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Joel says your name and you turn around.

"Good job today," he says softly. "Not too excitin' of a patrol, but you're good out there."

You blink owlishly. "I-- thanks," you manage. "Maybe we'll get to go out again as a pair." You're showing your hand but you can't help it. You want more of whatever this was.

Joel's mouth pulls up at one corner. "Maybe."

___

Two days later you drag yourself out of the house for community breakfast. Most mornings you're out the door and at your work detail for the day before you can pop over but you don't have anything assigned today. It's a rare respite and it has you antsy. You don't remember how to be idle, aren't any good at it. Sitting in your empty house means your mind might wander to the thoughts you try very hard to keep at bay. The loneliness, the regret, the fear. The loss. It's always there and you've gotten better at dealing with it after so many years but some days you really just wish you could talk about it to someone, could just bitch and moan about how fucking awful this life can be.

But everyone is carrying their own shit and you don't need to add to it. You don't want anyone to have to carry yours, too.

Breakfast is quiet this morning. You settle at a table with your toast and your eggs and your potatoes and smile back at anyone who smiles at you but no one sits with you. If they did you don't know what you'd say.

But then the air changes. Your neck feels a little hot and you slowly look around until you see what's caused it -- Joel and Ellie are here. He's already looking at you when you meet his eyes and he smiles a little, a half-moon curve of his mouth, and nods. You wave.

Ellie waves back, which you don't expect. She says something to Joel and he frowns, rolls his eyes. She punches him in the arm and he flips her off and grabs two plates, starts to fill them. You smile down at your own food.

"Man, are the potatoes that fucking good today?"

You look up and find Ellie in front of you. You're pretty sure she's 16 or thereabouts, still growing into herself based on the way she shifts on her feet. Her right forearm has the outline of something floral. She notices you looking at it and crosses her arms, looking unimpressed. Ah, teenagers.

"Pretty okay," you tell her. "I don't know if we've met yet --"

"We kinda have," she interrupts. "I know your name and you know mine, so. And you're at the library sometimes when I check shit out."

This still does not explain why she's over here talking to you. You can see Joel in the breakfast line still, glancing over his shoulder every so often to see if she's still in the room. You try not to catch his gaze because you're a little afraid of what Ellie might read in it.

"Can I do something for you, Ellie?" you ask, not unkindly. She scrunches up her nose and then sighs.

"Joel told me not to bother you but I wanted to ask if you could look out for a book for me. At the library." Her words get faster as she reaches the end of her sentence. She takes a look at you, sees that you're not telling her to fuck off, or something, and keeps talking. Some book about the history of comics or something.

"Oh," you say. You feel a rush of affection for her and the fact that she can hold the record for headshots on a group patrol and still want to read about something she loves in her free time. "Yeah, I'll look for you. I don't have a library shift until tomorrow but I'll look and put it aside if I find it for you."

Ellie tugs on her fingers. "Don't you need to write it down or something?"

You smile at her. "No, I'll remember." You recite the title and author she just told you back to her and it seems to satisfy her. It's like a switch is flipped -- her earnest expression morphs into something you can only call mischief.

"So Joel's coming over to fix your doors, or whatever," she says. "How'd you crack him?"

"I--what?"

"You patrol with him once and he's coming over to your house," she says. "It took him like, weeks to laugh at one of my jokes. And I'm fucking funny!"

You have no idea what to say to that. Patrol with Joel was your first time talking to him and while he's a bit intimidating, sure, he never came off as anything other than...good. But you'd bet he wasn't always that way in this world. Maybe this girl in front of you had something to do with it.

And honestly, you're sure he just feels a little bad for you. He's nice enough to worry, to make sure everyone in town can do their part and you'll take what you can get even if it's temporary attention.

Part of you knows Ellie is just giving you a hard time because she's a teenager and you're kind of connected to the guy who looks after her so you're fair game, too. But she's talking to you like she wants to which is throwing you for a loop. And you're realizing it's been a long time since you actually wanted someone to like you. Well, Joel aside.

"You want to tell me one?" you ask. She looks surprised and then delighted.

"Oh, fuck yeah. Okay, let me think." You take another bite of your breakfast. "Okay, okay, I got it. What did the mermaid wear to her math class?"

You give it a few seconds before you shrug. Ellie grins. "An algae-bra."

Your laugh makes her grin bigger. "See? Fucking hilarious." She holds out her hand for a high five and you oblige. "Anyway, Joel's gonna come over tomorrow, I think. Seriously, dude, I don't know how you did it. He never used to be this nice!" She looks over her shoulder at the man in question. He's sitting down at another table. "He's getting soft."

Her voice is fond and you're pretty sure she doesn't notice. "You should go eat your breakfast, Ellie," you tell her.

She sighs like the weight of the world is on her shoulders. "Yeah, I'm fucking hungry. Let me know if you find that book!"

"I will," you call after her. You can't help but watch as she barrels back to her table with Joel and immediately makes an attempt at his bacon. He fends her off with his fork before surrendering a piece with a scowl.

He looks up and catches your eye again. You stand with your tray and nod at him, turning around before you can see his expression. Stupid, so stupid to be caught looking like that. But you can't help it -- looking at the love still alive in this shitty world and wondering what it feels like.

___

You run into Joel on your walk home from the next day's shift at the library. You spent probably far too much of it looking for the book Ellie wanted but it was worth it because you've got it tucked under your arm. It feels like a small miracle but you're not one to question it.

Maybe it's the good mood you're in, but when you see Joel from behind you call out his name. He doesn't stop walking but turns his head like he heard something. When he spots you he does stop, waiting for you to catch up.

"Hi," you say, suddenly a little less brave.

"Howdy," he replies, amused. "I'm headed your way."

"You --" He lifts a toolbox you now realize he's carrying. "Oh, right. Hinges."

"I can come by another day if it's not a good time."

Joel could knock on your door in the middle of the night and it would be a good time. "No, ah. Now's good." He motions for you to lead the way even though he clearly knew where he was going. He must have asked Tommy.

It seems like everyone waves as you two head for your street. They call out Joel's name and he knows pretty much everyone. You feel a little self-conscious being seen with him like this -- you, pretty much a nobody in town through your own doing and Joel, beloved by all.

It doesn't stop until you're almost at your door. "You're popular," you say, trying to make it sound teasing. Instead, it sounds awed.

Joel runs his free hand through his beard. "Don't remind me," he grumbles. "Can't go for a walk without a damn conversation."

You pull out your keys and unlock the front door. There are plenty of people in Jackson who don't lock their doors but you can't shake the need. "Sounds difficult."

He chuckles and you feel it zing up your spine. It's nice to make him laugh. "Yeah, yeah. S'pose it's nice." The front door opens with a creak and you look at him sheepishly. His eyebrows touch his hairline. "They all like that?"

You nod. Joel whistles. "Christ," he says. "Alright." He follows you into the house. You try not to think about what he sees. You've tried to make it your own, just a little. Posters you traded for, books you've collected. You cleaned the whole thing top to bottom when you moved in but somehow it still looks a little un-lived in. You're working on it.

"Don't let me bother you," Joel says, getting on one knee with a grunt and prying open his box. "Probably need 'bout an hour to get 'em all. I'll holler when I'm done."

That's your cue to busy yourself with something, anything, but you don't want to. You want to talk to him, to watch him do whatever he's going to do, to soak up this time with Joel before he walks out the door and you go back to being acquaintances.

"What are you going to use?" you ask. He looks up, a little surprised, before pulling out a spray bottle and a rag. He shakes it at you.

"It's some sorta homemade shit one of the younger guys cooked up," Joel says. Somehow he manages to sound self-deprecating, like he thinks he should've thought of it first. "I think it's...soap? And cleanin' stuff? Fuck, I don't know." He huffs a laugh. "I know it works, though. Back in the day we'd use shit you could buy on the shelf." He stands with a grunt. "You old enough to know that?"

That gets you to laugh. "Yeah, Joel," you say. "I'm old enough to remember the hardware store."

His gaze feels a little different than before, like he's allowing himself to look. "Hmm," is all he says. "I'll just --"

You don't know how to justify shadowing him as he oils your hinges -- there's a joke there's somewhere -- so you don't. You grab a book from the shelf and settle on your couch and try your best to read but your mind wanders.

It's pretty clear that you have a crush on Joel. You've spent one patrol with the guy but somehow he's gotten under your skin. It's inconvenient but also...nice? A crush at the end of the world. The fact that you can still feel something so sweet, so juvenile after all you've seen and all you've done is almost laughable. And it's not like it's going to go anywhere -- you're sure Joel thinks you're too young for him, too green, and he's probably tripping over admirers in town. But you can let it be something to keep your days interesting until it fades.

It was hard enough to love yourself before the world ended for reasons anyone could understand. Societal pressures, stupid comparisons, things that don't matter at all now. Who has time to think about being loved when you're constantly faced with death? Feeling desired, feeling loved, feeling looked after isn't exactly top of mind. You're not even sure you remember how. You put one foot in front of the other and that's enough.

But wouldn't it be nice to be on the receiving end of affection from a man like Joel?

"All finished." You startle and realize you haven't turned a single page of your book. If Joel notices he doesn't say. He wipes his hands on a rag and eyes you. "Pretty sure I got all the doors."

You hop up from the couch and try to find your words. "I -- that's -- you're --"

"Thank you will do just fine," he says with a smirk. He tucks the rag in his back pocket and crosses his arms, leaning against the wall.

"Let me cook for you," you blurt out instead. "In exchange." You can make a few things fairly decently and making him something is another excuse to talk to him like this, to be on the receiving end of those eyes. "I can make chili. Does Ellie like chili?"

"Don't have to do that," he says kindly. "Helpin' you ain't a business deal. S'what people do here." He stands straight and heads for your front door, picking up his toolbox on the way.

"Joel," you say, snagging his sleeve with your fingers. You pull them back quickly and grab the book you brought home, holding it out for him. "Ellie asked me to look for this. Could you give it to her?"

He looks at the book the same way he looks at his kid. It's tenderness so raw you look away. "I will," he says softly. He tucks the book under his arm like precious cargo. "Thank you for findin' it for her." He clears his throat and looks at you, smirk back in place. "Wasn't so bad, was it?" he asks. You don't follow. "Havin' someone help you," he adds.

Your face feels hot. "I'll still cook for you," you say, opening the door. He shakes his head.

"You let me know if you need anythin' else, alright?" A quick smile and he's down the steps and back into the street, strolling back to his own home.

"I will." You say it to yourself and almost mean it.

___

You patrol a few more times over the next month but never get paired up with Joel. If you were a little braver you'd ask Tommy or the kid he's training to take over the schedule to put you two together but you don't. Instead, you wave at Ellie when you see her, nod at Joel from the other side of rooms where he's always talking to someone else. You let yourself enjoy the way your heart picks up at the sight of him and the thrill you feel after he smiles at you. It's a nice change to the boring, lonely routine you had before.

The doors in your house open and close silently.

Being outside is fine. You don't like it any more or any less, it just is what it is. Life at the end of the world continues on.

Until you have a bad patrol.

It's no one's fault and no one gets bit. You and your partner, Astrid, are tailing a buck that's wandering along your route. If you can shoot it you can load it on one of your horses and ride back together on the other. Winter is on its way and any extra meat helps.

You follow protocol. You're lining the deer up through the scope while she keeps watch. Just as you prepare to pull the trigger you feel it -- the pull of your gut telling you something isn't right. That feeling has kept you alive all these years so you lower the rifle and turn to Astrid just in time to see a stalker lunge out of the brush.

Its broken and jagged nails catch your shoulders and you go down hard enough to bruise. You can't hear anything over its snarls and the blood pounding in your ears but you do your fucking best. You wedge your forearm under its chin and try like hell to keep its mouth away from you. Your other hand somehow makes it to your belt and unsheathes your hunting knife and in one swift movement, you shove it into the soft jaw of the infected. Hot blood spurts over your face and you keep your mouth closed, shoving the corpse off you.

A gunshot has you whirling around and scooping up the rifle. You've got it ready to fire but you only find Astrid standing over a stalker corpse of her own, forehead bleeding and revolver smoking.

"You clean?" you ask her, eyes on her forehead. She nods.

"Shoved me into some thorns. You?"

"Yeah. Can we go home now?"

Your hands don't shake until you get back to Jackson. They tremble when you wash the blood from your face, your hair. You wish for just a second that you had someone to hold them, someone to tell you it's alright. Someone to talk to about how shitty your day was and how scared you were and how sometimes this life is so fucking exhausting and just when you think you're safe you're reminded that no one is safe anymore.

Maybe this is the kind of thing Joel was talking about. Asking for help.

The thought fades quickly. You can deal with this. You're just out of practice. You just got comfortable.

You go to bed as early as you can bear, closing your eyes and hoping for dreamless sleep.

You could only be so lucky.

You're no stranger to nightmares. Hell, who isn't? Usually, it's the same old shit -- people you've lost, fucked up things you've done, horrors you've seen. You know how to deal with it.

But this is the first time in a while you've got new nightmare fuel. The hot, rancid breath of the stalker and the agonizing sound of its moans. Your own choked gasps as you try with all of your strength to keep its rotting teeth away from you. Unlike reality, your dreams don't allow you to grab a hold of your knife and instead, you feel it take a chunk out of your neck, hot blood splattering your face and you have to just lie there as it bites and bites and bites --

You jolt upright with a small gasp. Necessity has taught you to wake silently.

"Fuck," you say to the empty room. No way you're going back to sleep after that. You swing your legs over the side of your bed and put your head in your hands. "Breathe. Breathe."

The sky is black through your windows. You have no idea what time it is but you stand before the lingering panic can take hold and make things worse. Fresh air will get the iron smell out of your nose. You dress in the dark in more layers than necessary but you want to stop shaking.

Jackson at night is quiet but there are always a few people around, always someone else who can't sleep. The sky is clear and the moon is bright and it smells like woodsmoke and the unique earthy feel of the valley. This is your home. So long as you have this you can get through it.

Your feet take you through the streets of houses, most of the windows dark. Just another lap around town and then you'll go home, try to sleep again.

Then you hear something. The gentle strum of an acoustic guitar weaving with the night air like a dream. A song from before, a song you recognize but don't know the name of, don't know the words. You wrap your arms around yourself and follow the sound down Rancher Street. If you find whoever is playing it you'll wave and walk slowly home.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see whose house it is. Joel is on the porch, rocking slowly and head leaning back, eyes closed as he strums. How did you not know he played guitar? It only makes sense that the hands that are capable of such violence can also make something beautiful. He can ruffle Ellie's hair and pull the trigger and fix your doors and do this.

Something in your chest tightens.

Joel's eyes open and land on you immediately. You realize how it looks -- you standing in front of his house in the middle of the night, watching him. But he stops his playing and calls out your name.

"Hey, you alright?" he says. You hover between taking a step forward and a step back.

"Couldn't sleep."

He shakes his head. "Can't hear ya," he says. "C'mere."

Step forward it is. Up the stairs and onto the porch that creaks a little under your boots. There's only one chair and a small table with a lantern on it. Wind chimes dangle over the railing and you drag your hand through them on instinct like a child with a toy.

"Sorry," you say softly.

"Only got one chair," Joel says. He's got one boot resting on his knee, guitar slung across his lap. He looks tired. "I'll go get another --"

You wave him off. "No, please," you say. "I'll stand. I'm too antsy to sit, anyway." If you sit down in a chair next to Joel Miller you might never get up.

He frowns but settles back into his seat. "You alright?" he asks again.

His gaze is a little too much. You feel silly all of a sudden, not sure how you got here. A fucking nightmare? God, you're ridiculous. You cross your arms and lean back on the railing and look anywhere but him.

"Couldn't sleep." Joel hums.

"Heard that one before."

He strums some more and you relax again despite yourself. "Sounds nice. Do you play a lot?"

"Sometimes," he says. "Old habit."

"It's a nice one. Better than walking the streets in the dark." Your tone is harsher than you mean it to be and Joel frowns.

"It's safe to," he says, as though your wellbeing is his personal concern. "Bit cold, though."

"Why are you out here then?" You're frustrated with yourself and taking it out on him just a little bit. The smell of blood fills your nostrils again and you press your fingertips into your crossed arms, hard, and close your eyes. Your breath stutters in your chest.

"Nightmares," Joel says wryly. There's some shifting, the scrape of wood on wood and you open your eyes. His are fixated on your fingers and you stop squeezing. The guitar is now leaning up against the house and he's got his elbows on his knees like he's about to ask you a serious question. The lantern light makes his hair look darker, less silver, but it also makes the lines on his face look deeper. You wonder what kind of shit he's seen. What things he has nightmares about.

"Had this conversation with Ellie a million times," he huffs, rubs his hand through his beard in what you now consider a familiar gesture. "You don't need to talk if you don't want to. But can't hurt."

Is he asking you to talk about your nightmare? Does he actually want to know? Do you know how to talk about it?

"I take it you're a fountain of emotional sharing, huh?" Again, the misplaced frustration. You don't know how to turn it off.

His eyes flash but he just leans back in his chair and shrugs. "Depends on the day."

The low-level hum of your infatuation with him flares and your traitorous brain bats it down right away. You want to see all sides that he can offer you, want to make him frustrated and angry just to see if that'll make him sick of you.

You run your hand through the wind chimes again, watching your fingers move through the air. You remember what the knife felt like in your hand, the way the blood was hot as it dripped down your wrist and onto your face.

"Tough patrol," you say. "Messiest since I got here." Joel says nothing and you don't look at him. "I...it was fine. We got jumped by some stalkers and it was fine but...close. And I -- I didn't realize how badly I wanted to come back here until then. How badly I wanted to go home at the end of it. Does that make sense?"

You finally look up and Joel's knuckles are white on the arms of his chair. When he sees you looking he crosses his arms. "Sure," he says, clears his throat.

The urge to try to explain more is overwhelming. "I mean, we've all done fucked up shit. I've been up to my elbows in infected guts and still come out on top and slept like a rock the night after. And all of a sudden I can't fucking handle a stalker getting in my face. It's like I've never had to get my hands dirty before and what if it means I'm going to fuck up next time --"

"Hey," Joel says firmly. You feel a hand on your forearm and realize you've been pacing, arms flailing as you rambled. He gives it a squeeze and then releases you. "Feel like I gotta say fuck now to catch up with you."

A wet chuckle works its way out of you. Where did that come from? Are you about to cry? On the porch of the man you have a stupid, stupid crush on? This is embarrassing. And his touch. People touch you all the time, all things considered. A tap on patrol indicating silence, a hand on your arm to get your attention, to brace you as you lift something. Children in town who don't know the horrors outside the walls give affection freely. Hell, Joel touched your shoulder after your patrol. You're not touch starved but you feel like no one has touched you with tenderness and meant it in years.

"Sorry."

Joel tuts. "C'mon," he says. "I asked."

"I don't think I feel any better."

He stands and grunts as he does so. He's so much closer than before, so close you can smell what you can only describe as Joel: wood shavings and gunpowder, laundry soap and leather. It's a little dizzying. He leans on the railing next to you.

"Bet when you go back to bed you won't dream," he says. "Usually what happens."

"Here you are again," you sigh. "Helping me out. I promise I get on just fine on my own."

"I know," he says. His eyes are warm and so, so deep. "Don't have to, though."

Joel, for all his kindness and popularity in town, is a man just like any other. A person who has seen and done shit that no one should have to see and do. You know he's got his fair share of secrets, of things he won't talk about. You all do. You know he can be unflinching and maybe even cruel, dangerous and deadly. Whatever is happening here -- this openness, this desire of his to help you out -- is hard won. You think about what Ellie said and let yourself have a dangerous thought: maybe he's this way with you because he wants to be.

You sway into him just a little before catching yourself and standing up straight. "I should go try that dreamless sleep," you say softly. "And you should, too." It does not escape your notice that you haven't talked about Joel's nightmares, whatever they are. You don't think he'd be that open. A piece of you imagines a world where you ask and he answers.

"I might," he says. Neither of you move.

That small piece of you would stay here all night. That small piece of you tries for the next best thing.

"Will you let me cook for you now?" you ask. It sounds a little desperate to your own ears. "Please?"

"Persistent, ain't you?" He taps his closed fist on the railing once, twice. "Well, if it's that important to you. Chili, you said?"

"I can have it done by sundown tomorrow. I'm on greenhouses but we always finish early. You can come by and get it. I'll do enough for you and Ellie for a few days." You're rambling but finally he's going to let you do something for him. Hinges, nightmares, it's too much. Maybe you can somehow cook out this affection for him, get rid of it with your own hands if you try hard enough.

"Alright," Joel says. He puts his hand on your shoulder lightly and squeezes once. You feel it all the way down to your toes. "Now get outta this damn cold."

He doesn't offer to walk you home. You'd say no if he did. You need the time to sort out the mess in your mind. You give him the most earnest smile you can manage and he watches from his porch until you turn out of sight.

__

Joel is on your mind all day. More so than usual, which is saying a lot. The crush has turned into something...more. Something that makes you hope and that something is dangerous. It's just setting yourself up to be hurt through no fault of Joel's when it goes nowhere. Because why would he be thinking about you?

"You're smiley today," Dina says. She's a sweet girl and you're paired together on greenhouse shift today. She's always got a story to tell about plants she and her sister saw in New Mexico or some weird mushroom she found on group patrol. You love how positive she is and you try to absorb some.

"Am I?" you say lightly.

She tugs on one more cucumber, putting it in your shared basket before wiping her face. She gets dirt on her nose. It makes her look young. "Got big plans?"

Your face feels hot. "Just cooking for a...friend." It's the first time you've said that out loud. It's probably true, right? Acquaintance, at least. Joel is important to you and it's taken an alarmingly short amount of time for it to solidify. That's just how the world works these days -- you never know how much time you have so everything moves faster. You care harder despite years of proof that nothing good comes of it. You can't help it. You were made to leak love like an open wound.

"A friend," Dina teases. Teenagers. You remember that she's friends with Ellie and it's very possible she knows exactly what you're talking about but she's too kind to say anything more.

"Yep," you say, popping the p. "Do I have to start teasing you about Jesse or are you going to cut me some slack?"

"Well, hey," she laughs. "I think it's nice to be excited about something. You're so serious all the time."

"Am not," you mutter.

Something you appreciate about Dina is that despite her age she knows when to leave it. "Whatever you say," she says primly.

Once work is over and you're back home the cooking goes quick. You focus just enough considering you want this to actually be good and for Joel and Ellie to like it. It's thank you chili, it's you are important to me chili, it's I want to see you every day for the rest of my life chili.

Well. It's thank you at the very least.

And food, especially in this world, means something extra. There's enough to go around in Jackson, more than enough, but anyone taking the time to fix something with their own hands means more. You know how different a meal can taste when someone makes it with care.

And to say you care is a bit of an understatement.

The chili is simmering and you're about to start on the dishes when there's a knock on the door.

"Shit," you say. You wipe your hands on a towel and pad down the hall in socked feet. When you open it you find Joel bathed in the golden light of the sunset. His hands are tucked in his pockets, the collar of his coat turned up to protect his neck from the chill that's settled in for the season. His face softens at the sight of you but his shoulders are still tight. Is he...nervous? No, you're projecting.

Here he is on your doorstep again. If you're not careful you'll get used to him being there.

"Sorry for bein' a bit early," he says at the same time you say, "I was just thinking about you ."

The tension melts out of him and he smirks like a man with a secret. "That so?"

Your eyes are wide as you find your words. Hopefully ones that aren't embarrassing. "Come in," you say. "I'm letting the heat out."

He follows you to the kitchen. "Smells good," he says.

"It's not quite done yet but that's a good sign, I guess." You stir the pot before rolling up your sleeves and taking your spot in front of the sink. "Sorry it's a bit of a mess, I was about to start on this --"

"Now I know you ain't about to do all that yourself," Joel drawls. It's a syrupy tone you haven't heard from him, not really. Is he...flirting with you?

"I...what?"

"Scoot," Joel says. He steps beside you in front of the sink and gently bumps your hip with his. "Seriously."

"Joel--"

"Does it look like I'm kiddin'?"

He keeps his eyes on yours as he shrugs off his jacket, tosses it on this island, and rolls his shirtsleeves up to his elbow. You look away from him so you can watch.

"This is getting ridiculous," you tell him even as you hop up to sit on the counter closest to the sink so you can see his face. He turns on the tap and starts on the various things in the sink even though some of them are clearly not from cooking tonight. "You'll be sick of this chili before I can pay you back."

"I told you it ain't like that," he scolds. "So quit it."

There's no real bite to his tone but you do as he says all the same. You kick your feet out a few times and do your best not to stare but fail miserably. The fall sunlight seems to have followed him into your house, pinkish-golden beams falling across his face. You can see a triangle of chest at the top of his shirt, a few dark curls teasing the hair on him. The scar on the bridge of his nose is much harsher up close, much deeper than the countless other ones that dot his forehead, his temples. He doesn't look as tired today. Maybe he got some sleep after all.

So did you. You didn't dream.

"How was your day?" you ask. Joel's eyes flick up to yours for just a breath before he looks back down at his task. His mouth pulls up at the corner.

"Fine," he says. "Had to fix the water heater at Ellie's place."

A piece of hair falls in his face and you shove your palms under your thighs so you don't brush it back.

You tap his denim-clad thigh with your socked foot, almost like a compromise with yourself when it comes to touching him. "And that took all day?" Damn, are you the one flirting now?

Joel seems amused in a grumpy way. "Well, no," he says. The faucet is on so he speaks a little louder. "Did some house chores. Worked on a guitar. Took a nap."

The image of Joel sprawled out on a couch is clear as day. You bet he looks relaxed in his sleep, the lines on his face not as pronounced, his breathing steady and even.

"Busy day," you say softly. He's about to say more, lips parted to ask about your day, maybe, but you're not about to admit that you spent all day thinking about him so you keep talking before he can. "Does Ellie like living in the garage?"

"Think so," he says. "She spends a night in the house every so often but I think she likes havin' her own space. S'important to me to give her that."

This is uncharted territory. You desperately don't want to step in shit, to somehow make him bring his walls back up. Everyone is protective of the things they love in this world and for good reason and you're pretty sure there is nothing and no one Joel loves more than Ellie.

"She's a good kid," you offer. "Everyone in town loves her."

Joel smiles down at his hands, that soft, raw smile you've seen a few times when talking about her. It makes your chest ache. "She is," he admits. "Pain in my ass, too."

You want so badly to ask him the details. How did they meet? How did they get here? How did they become so devoted to one another? And what happened in the last twenty years to get him to right now, washing dishes in your kitchen?

But you haven't earned that stuff yet. Maybe you never will.

"Does she like Jackson?" You remember what he said about them settling in, sleeping in the living room with their shoes on. You imagine he kept watch for weeks, maybe months, before deciding it was safe.

He nods. "S'good for her to have friends. And havin' school is good for her. She's real smart." He clears his throat. "And you? D'you like it?"

"Well, I like it much better now that my hinges don't squeak."

Joel laughs. "I'll bet you do." He's almost done, everything from your chili-making washed and set aside to dry. He's doing your dishes from breakfast but shows no signs of stopping."Do you cook like this a lot?

Your brows furrow. "I-- no, actually," you admit. "It's just me, so. Not worth putting in the effort that often."

He turns off the tap and grabs a towel and starts to dry. You should offer to help but you feel frozen to the counter. If you get any closer to him you might snap. His jaw is tight.

"When Ellie and I --" he stops, takes a moment to focus on the bowl in his hands. Joel, you've noticed, doesn't tend to say things he doesn't mean, at least not to you. It's like he knows that every word counts in a life as unpredictable as this. "We had a bit of a rough patch last year and we didn't talk for a while. I was damn near eatin' canned veggies on days Tommy didn't drag me to the community meals." He sighs and sets the bowl on the counter ever so gently. Violence and tenderness go hand in hand with him. "Just didn't have it in myself to try cookin' if she wasn't there to eat it."

It's the most vulnerable thing he's said. He keeps doing this -- offering you pieces of himself that you want to hold close, that make you think maybe he wants you to know him.

"Joel--"

"I guess what I'm sayin' is it's easier to take care of yourself when you're also takin' care of people who matter to you. That make sense?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "It does."

The whole scene is so...domestic that your chest aches. Joel in your kitchen doing your dishes. He's helping you yet again but this feels different. It feels like he wants to be here, talking to you. It feels real.

He finishes his task and dries his hands on a faded towel. You hop down from the counter to check the chili. "Should be done," you say. "Do you want to try it? Make sure it's worth it?"

"Oh, it's worth it," he mutters. You work to keep your face neutral. What does that mean? "Sure."

You pull a spoon from the drawer and while it would make more sense to just hand it to him you don't. Instead, you dip it into the steaming liquid and hold it out for him, your other hand cupped underneath to catch any spill. Joel stares at your offering for a few seconds and you wonder if he can hear your heart beating.

Then Joel reaches out slowly like he's afraid you'll bolt if he goes too fast, and lightly wraps his hand around your wrist. It's the first time he's touched you skin to skin and you know immediately that it's a mistake.

You'll never stop wanting him now.

His palm is warm, callused fingertips pressing gently into your skin and he tugs, bringing the spoon -- and you -- closer to his mouth. Everything moves in slow motion for a few moments and it's like you are the only two people in the world. Your kitchen fades and it's just Joel. His lips part and he slides the spoon into his mouth at the same time as his thumb strokes the inside skin of your wrist.

It's very possible that you gasp a little.

He closes his eyes and you're torn between watching his face and his throat as he swallows. You could look at him forever, you think, and never get enough. The set of his brow, the hard line of his jaw. Lines around his eyes and mouth from years of terror and violence but also from laughter and smiles. You want to learn every inch of him if he'll let you.

"Christ," Joel says. His eyes fly open and find yours. "That's good. That's real good."

"You're just saying that," you say weakly. He hasn't let go of your wrist and his thumb strokes once again. You wonder if you realize he's doing it.

Something in his face changes, something so small that you only notice because you're watching. It feels like he has decided something and you wish you knew him well enough to say what. You dare to hope it has to do with you.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm a good liar but I ain't just sayin' that."

Sweetheart. It echoes in your ears, burrows its way into your chest and takes root.

You're so fucked.

But there's something in Joel's gaze, in the brush of his thumb across your skin, in the fact he's just done all of your dishes and talked to you like he wants to be here that gives your traitorous heart some ground to stand on.

You send him home with as many glass containers of chili as he'll take. He argues that you won't have enough for yourself and manages to convince you to keep a few. You don't tell him that what you really want is to sit next to him at a table and eat it, knees bumping under the wood and his smile making your empty house feel warm.

"Tell Ellie I say hi," you say once he's out your door and on the porch. "And let me know if she likes it."

"Will do," Joel says. You hug your arms around yourself against the chill. He frowns slightly.

You wonder if he'd touch you if his hands weren't full.

"And thank you for--"

He shakes his head. "Not acceptin' thanks," he chides. "Not from you."

You don't know what to say to that. Joel seems to realize he's rendered you speechless, not for the first time, and nods his head before heading home.

"See you around, Joel," you call after him. It sounds half like a question and half like a wish.

He turns. "Countin' on it."

___

You do see him around but not as much as you'd like. Things pick up around town before the seasons can change and send Wyoming into winter. You find yourself in the kitchen most days helping seal jars for the community food stores, hands chapped from the hot water and heart light when you think about Joel. He nods at you from across the dining hall, opens the door of the library when you're going in and he's coming out, and tells Ellie to tell you how good the chili was when you share a shift at the stables.

"Fucking amazing," she says.

You sleep fairly well, going to bed each night with a little bit of lightness in your heart that you allow because why not? There's no way out short of Joel telling you to fuck off and you don't think that'll happen. If only you could get over yourself a little more and actually do something about it.

As much as you want to keep telling yourself that this -- glances across rooms, smiles from a distance, memories of his hand on your skin -- is enough, you're not sure that it is. The force of your want is destabilizing considering the most that's happened is maybe a little bit of flirting. But maybe this is you taking his direction to ask for...no help, not exactly, but to ask for something. To ask for him.

Today you're going on patrol. You decide as you mount your horse that you're going to ask Joel if he wants to get a drink when you get back. You want to talk to him again, let him under your skin a little more. Maybe tell him some things about yourself. Sometimes he's milling around the gate or on wall duty but you don't see him as you and your partner -- a fairly new kid in his twenties -- take your rifles and head out. You're on an easy route today, just clearing out the town over the hill and the highway exits near Jackson. Shouldn't take you more than a few hours.

It goes to shit fairly quickly.

The kid -- Conner? Charlie? You can't remember -- is rambling about the infected he's killed for some reason when you realize something isn't quite right. You can't hear any birds. Apollo snorts and it sounds panicked. You motion for the kid to stop talking but he either ignores you or doesn't see.

He sure shuts up when the clicker bursts out of a house to your left. Apollo startles and rears at the moment you reach for your gun and you can't grab hold in time.

You go flying, bouncing off a rusted-out car and landing hard on the broken pavement of the street with a popping sound. There is a pain in your shoulder so intense your vision whites out. The kid is shouting, the clicker is making that awful sound, but then you hear two gunshots and nothing else.

"Holy fuck," he says, rushing over to you. "Fuck, are you okay?"

Well, for a talker, this kid a good shot.

"Get the -- horse --" You roll onto your back with a groan and he grabs Apollo and settles him.

"What happened?"

You stare up at the sky, blue turning purple. It'll be sunset soon and you very well might be fucked if this is what you think it is.

"I think my shoulder popped out," you say through gritted teeth. Your head doesn't hurt like you smacked it and your side is only a little sore. Maybe some bruised ribs. Your hands are scraped, blood beading on the heels of your palms. "Help me up."

"Holy shit." He helps you sit up and then stand, your left arm hanging limp at your side. You hiss through your teeth as it gets jostled and lean heavily on the car. "You don't look so good," he says. "Can you ride? We should only be a half hour out of town."

"I...don't think so." You're pretty sure you'll pass out from the pain and this kid doesn't look like he can handle that. You don't want to fuck up the joint any more than you have to. "You're going to have to go back and bring someone to set it for me, okay?"

"But the rules say --"

"I know what the fucking rules say," you snap. Don't let your partner out of your sight. Your shoulder is throbbing and you might cry but not until this kid is on his way back to town. "That's why you're going to go as fast as you can, alright?"

"We should at least clear a building first so you can --"

"No time," you say, looking at the sky. "If we want to be back before nightfall you need to go now. I'll handle myself."

You really should know his name. He sets his jaw in a move that reminds you of Joel which causes a pang in your chest so intense you want to rub it away. "I'll clear that garage, okay?" He points behind you and before you can stop him he runs towards it with his gun out.

Lucky for both of you it's clear. You take Apollo inside and slump against the wall, pistol in your hand. The kid closes the garage door behind him and you hear the clop of his horse as he gallops away.

"Fuck," you say into the empty room. It's dusty and full of cobwebs and not much else. Empty metal shelves, a rusted-out lawn mower, some tarps so ratted they're useless. Apollo snorts. "Not your fault, buddy."

Death has been nipping at your heels for twenty years now. You've always expected it. And you're fairly certain you won't die out here. Maybe end up spending a night on this floor, having to walk yourself back to Jackson tomorrow morning. But you can't help the fear that rises in your throat. You know how an injury like this means so much more in this world. You won't be able to work for weeks. You won't be able to patrol, to pull your weight.

You're going to need a lot of help.

You close your eyes against the stinging tears and thud your head against the wall.

The pain dulls the embarrassment you feel when you catch yourself thinking of Joel. You wish he was here. If you'd been on patrol together this wouldn't have happened. You wonder what he's going to think of this.

What you'd really like is for him to hold you and tell you it'll be alright.

A few tears slip down your nose. Apollo noses at your knee.

There are no windows so you don't know how much time has passed. You start to question if this was the right call. Maybe you could have made it back on horseback, or at the very least slung across the back of Apollo like a sack of flour, arm be damned.

Your traitorous brain is about to remind you of all the things that go bump in the night out here when you hear something. 

Someone is calling your name. Yelling it.

"Here!" you scream. Apollo whinnies. "I'm here!" You have no idea if they can hear you. You press your good shoulder into the wall behind you and try to push yourself to your feet but just as you do the garage door is hauled open and there stands --

Joel.

A sob bursts from your throat and you will yourself to pull it together. Behind him the sky is much more orange than it was when you first sat down.

Joel's eyes look you up and down once before cataloging the space and locking on some milk crates. He stacks two of them.

"Sit," he says. His voice is tight.

"Joel --"

"Sit."

You do as he says. He kneels at your feet and rummages around in his bag. His horse stands munching on some overgrown grass on the driveway. Did he come alone?

"How are you here --"

Joel cuts you off with a glare. His eyes are blazing, jaw grinding as he holds out a length of bandage.

"Hold this." He stands and his knees crack. "Kid said it's your shoulder. Anything else?"

The throb is still deep, still intense, but his arrival almost made you forget all about it. You shake your head.

"Didn't hit your head? Crack ribs? Nothin' like that?"

"No, I don't think so --"

"Need you to sit up straight," he says. There's no warmth in his tone but it's a little softer now that he's taken stock of the situation. "I ain't gonna lie to you, this is going to hurt like hell." He digs in his pocket for something and pulls out a square of leather. "Need you to bite down on this."

He squats so that you're just about face to face and holds out the leather. It feels like being in your kitchen, you holding out the spoon and fighting your desire to touch him. Except this time he won't look you in the eye. You open your mouth and he gently places it between your teeth, thumb catching the corner of your lips and trailing along the edge of your chin before he pulls away and stands up.

"I'm going to reset it on three, alright? Bite down hard on that." He finally meets your gaze and you nod and close your eyes. He puts one hand on your shoulder and the other on your wrist and you wince even though you feel incredibly safe in his hands. "Alright. One...two --"

Joel jerks your arm up and around before he hits three and you barely hear it pop back into place because, as he said, it hurts like hell. You bite down hard on the leather which also serves to muffle your scream.

Someone is talking to you."I know, baby, I know. Good job, you did a good job."

You open your eyes and wipe away a few tears with one hand and pull the leather from your teeth. Joel looks pained but his face snaps back to neutral when he sees you watching. His eyes narrow.

"Where did that come from?" He gently grabs your wrist and looks at your palm and you both find it bloody. "Got it on your face."

"Scraped my hands when I fell," you say hoarsely. He clicks his tongue.

"Give me that bandage." You don't even get a chance to hand it to him because he plucks it from your lap. "Gonna make this into a sling for this arm. Try not to move it much. Then we'll clean those hands and head home. Get you to the clinic for some meds." He gently positions your arm, which hurts a lot less than before but is still throbbing, and ties a sling so it's bent close to your chest. You can feel his breath on your neck as he does the knot.

And then he's back crouching in front of you.

Joel Miller on his knees for you so many times in one day makes you a little dizzy. Or maybe that's the adrenaline.

"Are you angry with me?" you ask softly as he wipes clean your palms and cheek with firm touches. The muscle in his jaw twitches again and his hands freeze for a split second.

"No," he says. "I ain't mad at you. I just can't believe the fuckin' kid left you here."

"I told him to."

"Can't believe that either. You know better."

"It's fine, Joel," you say. "It doesn't matter. I would have just walked back in the morning if no one came --"

He pulls his hands away and tosses the rag to the floor. "Damnit, it does matter," he curses. "'Course it fuckin' matters. Cut that shit out."

Now you're confused. It sure seems like he's angry with you. "Joel, I don't understand --"

His hands cradle your face and the protest dies in your throat. "You matter to me," he says thickly. His eyes are wide but his stare is steady. "Ain't it fuckin' obvious?" Anger and desperation are dripping from his words. "It matters."

For one long second you think he's going to kiss you. Now that might kill you.

You wrap one hand around his wrist and lean into his palm. A thousand thoughts swirl in your head but you focus on one. Joel is here which means you're safe. Joel is here which means he's going to take care of you. Joel is here. Joel is here. Joel is here.

"Oh," you breathe. You turn your face in his palm and press your lips to the center of it. His breath hitches and it feels like something big between you shifts, slots into place. "Okay," you say against his skin.

He pulls his hands away and stands. He works his jaw a few times before shouldering his pack and holding out his hand. "Let's go home," he says.

You stand with his help. "I think you'll need to help me get on my horse."

"Not a fuckin' chance," he growls but you can still see tenderness in his eyes. "Can't hold on well enough with one arm. We're ridin' together."

This Joel is one you haven't seen. But this is what you wanted, right? You want to see every part of him. Something molten and heavy sits in your stomach at how tense he is, how his hands remain gentle despite his harsh words. How he just told you that you matter to him. Maybe this is all a dream.

He helps you on his horse and then gets on behind you, tying Apollo's reigns to his so you won't lose him. He wraps one arm right around your stomach, mindful of your arm.

"Ain't gonna be comfortable," he says in your ear. "But it'll be over quick."

You lean back into him. Hell, it's all on the table now. If your arm is going to hurt you might as well enjoy your time pressed against him.

"Oh, I don't know," you say. "This isn't so bad." He snorts and snaps the reigns.

He talks low and steady in your ears as you gallop, his palm firm on your abdomen to keep you as still as possible though it's a hopeless venture. Your shoulder aches, sends sharp tendrils of pain through your entire arm with every stride.

He tells you that he was on the wall when your partner came back alone. That he knew something was wrong with you as soon as the kid came into view. He'd seen the patrol assignments and knew you were paired together. Kid didn't know what flag to use to signal his approach because you're not supposed to leave behind your partner.

Joel tells you how he hopped down from the wall and asked the kid where exactly he left you. Demanded to know how hurt you were, if you'd been bit. He was on a horse before anyone else could get their shit together, told them to get Tommy and have the clinic ready for you. Started hollering your name as soon as he got to the street, rifle ready for any infected to show up.

"Damn miracle when you yelled back," he says just as Jackson comes into view. You're sweating and dizzy from the pain, practically all of your weight slumped back into his chest. "Almost there, sweetheart. Doin' real good."

The rest of it is a blur. Joel takes you to the clinic where he becomes increasingly agitated that he set your shoulder wrong until one of the staff says he did it just fine. They give you a real sling and one painkiller to take if you hurt really bad, despite some harsh words from Joel in an attempt to get you more.

"Don't move it above your head for two weeks. Keep the sling on for that time, too. Ice it today, start moving it back and forth a few times in a few days. You got someone to help you for a bit?"

Before you can open her mouth Joel answer for you.

"Yes." The nurse hides her amusement well. She lets you go. Joel keeps his hand on your back as he walks you to your house.

You stop him when you get to your front door. "Joel --"

"If you're about to argue with me, so help me God, I'll --"

"I was going to ask if you need to go check on Ellie." You pull out your keys and after a second hold them out for him. Maybe letting Joel help you is helping him, too. You can handle that. You think.

"Told Tommy to when I left. I'll go home once we get you settled."

We.

"Okay," you say softly. He unlocks the door and motions for you to go in. You sit gingerly on the couch and Joel brings you a glass of water.

And then he paces. He looks at the books on your shelf without seeing them and rubs his thumb against his first two fingers over and over. And all of a sudden he won't look at you.

"Joel, sit down or something," you grumble. "You're making me nervous."

He stops. "Fine." His tone has a bit of bite to it that makes you close your eyes. There's an armchair in the room but he sits next to you instead. He presses his knee to yours, almost in apology.

The adrenaline has faded by now and all you feel is the ache of your shoulder and ribs and rawness of your palms and heart. The shoulder hurts like hell but in a way all of this hurts deeper, harder than that. In the way you know love, or the beginning of it, can hurt.

You sniffle.

Truth is you're overwhelmed. By what happened, by Joel coming to get you and saying all that shit. By him touching you, by him being here, by your own heart beating so quickly at his nearness. Even though you dared hope he felt something close to your affection for him it's a shock to realize he cares about you because you're you, not just because he's a good man. You've always wanted love that came from a place of purpose, which feels selfish on the best of days. You should just accept whatever kindness comes your way in this cruel world.

But, fuck, you've always wanted to feel chosen. Like you matter.

And you do. Right here, you do. From his own lips he's said you do.

You don't even realize you're crying until Joel curses softly and one wide, warm palm is on your face again.

"What's wrong? You hurtin'?" His thumb swipes at your tears. "Talk to me."

"I'm fine." You press your face into his shoulder and he holds you, hand soft on the back of your head. "I'm just -- I'm just really glad you're here, Joel."

"Course I'm here," he says into your hair. "C'mere."

There's nowhere for you to go considering you're already pressed against him. But his arms come around you fully, mindful of your shoulder, and your fingers fist in his shirt.

You should be embarrassed. On the scale of fucked up shit that's happened to you, today is remarkably low. But you let yourself have this. You breathe him in and let him hold you.

"I was going to ask you to get a drink tonight," you mumble. His chest vibrates with laughter.

"That so?" he says. His hand rubs up and down your spine. "Reckon I'd say yes."

You pull back just enough to see his face. This close you can see how his eyes have a bit of gold in them. "Really?" Even with proof of his affection right in front of you it's a little hard to believe.

"Am I readin' this wrong?" he asks. "It's okay if I am--"

"No," you say quickly. "No, you're not."

"Thought so." His lips pull up at the corner just a bit. "But, still. You've had a real rough day, and --"

"Joel," you breathe. You free your good arm from your embrace and put your hand on his jaw. He's touched you plenty today and you want to give it a try yourself. His face is warm, his beard gently rubbing against your skin. His eyes flutter close for a breath before he opens them wide and leans into your hand just a little.

"Alright," he says softly. Then he says your name, just once, ever so tenderly. It sounds like a prayer.

Joel Miller kisses you in the middle of your living room. Despite the affection you've been nursing for him over the last little while you never allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to kiss him.

It's like this: the first press of his lips is soft like he thinks you'll pull away. When you don't he takes your lower lip between his and presses a little harder. Your hand slides into his hair and he palms your hip with one of his and cups your face with the other. His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open for him, let him lick into your mouth. You sigh into it and tug on his hair just a little. Joel makes a sound deep in his throat and then pulls away.

You're both breathing heavier than before, both smiling. Joel presses his lips to your forehead, your temple. He holds you against him and you breathe against the skin of his neck.

"Will you let me take care of you?" he says into your hair.

"For my sake or yours?"

You think he'll laugh but he just breathes. "Both," he says. "Hell, you know what's goin' on here. I showed my hand. Been showin' it." He pulls away so you can see the honesty in his face. "I told you in as many damn words as I know how."

He did. He did and you make yourself believe it. Love in this life is worth holding on with both hands. Whatever this is, whatever this is going to become, you want it. You want to let this man continue to teach you to ask for help. You want to learn from him, maybe teach him a few things of your own.

You want to love him. You think you could sooner rather than later.

You trace the line of his brow, run your fingertip over the scar on the bridge of his nose.

"Can you kiss me again?" you ask.

"What a fuckin' question," he says. "C'mere."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[berberriescorner]

pregnant sexs w rio

I had to sit and think of which direction I wanted to take this in. Whew, chileee! Way too many scenarios are playing in my mind. This man😩😍!

I'm going to keep it a stack with y'all. This turned into a whole-ass fic.

Sit back, buckle up, and prep yourself for the trip my imagination's about to take you on♥️. Love, comments, and reblogs are appreciated, lovelies💞.

A/N: Sexual frustration and prolonged foreplay ahead. If that's not your vibe. You may want to skip out on this one. A couple of twists and flips here and there. I hope you lovelies enjoy what I did with this♥️. Just a heads up, I really got into this one, so it's going to be pretty lengthy. Worked on it for a while. Even made a damn mood board...I couldn't resist.

One More Note: A polite, gentle reminder that I don't usually take requests. If you float something in my ask that I just can't resist. I will give in here and there. In other words, if you don't get a response, please don't take it personally.

If you missed any other ask about dad!rio or hubby!rio, they're all listed on my Masterlist under Rio Asks/Headcanons (in order). Enjoy my lovelies! Feel free to love, comment, and share🥰.

Song Inspo💜:

"Let's Go Little Kitty-Kat"

Livid. Irritable. Restless. Each one of these words perfectly describes your current mood. The kids had begged to spend their spring break with Rio’s grandmother. Marcus was spending his time off with her, and his siblings loved to follow big brother’s every move. You weren’t surprised that they wanted to be wherever he was. It didn’t hurt that their great-grandmother spoiled them rotten and gave them whatever their hearts desired. Even your sweet baby boy left his momma in the dust. That wasn’t the reason for your foul mood (though being in this big, empty house didn’t help).

You were angrily resting on the couch, a permanent pout etched on your face. You huffed loudly as your husband’s voice sounded on the other end of the phone call.

“So, you’re not going to say anything?”

 Silence.

“Mama,” he sighed. 

You were willing to bet any amount of money that Rio’s hand was running down his face right now. Were you overreacting? Possibly. Maybe even being a bit unreasonable? Probably so. Did you give a damn? Not at all. Blame it on the hormones.

“Let me make sure I’ve got this right. You’re pissed off–again? That’s two days in a row, mama. I’ve still yet to figure out the reason behind yesterday's bad attitude. Normally, I don’t let that shit slide, but I understand you’re emo-.”

“Call me emotional one more time, Rio.”

“And you’re going to do what, darlin’,” he questioned, voice laced with a hint of warning. Rio chuckled sarcastically, “I got a lot going on right now. Call me back when you’re ready to talk like an adult. Ready to get back on your grown woman shit.”

“Whatever, Christopher. You called me. Nobody wanted to talk to your dusty ass anyway. Get off my line,” with that, you both hung up on one another, more irritated than before the call.

You knew your behavior was coming off as petty, but too much pent-up frustration kept you from acting like a rational human being. You rolled your eyes so hard they nearly got stuck as you recalled yesterday's events.

You lay awake in bed, your body vibrating with lust. The day had dragged by slowly as your need for Rio grew more and more. You changed positions so many times your head scarf came undone.

“If I can just manage to wait up at least another hour. Maybe Rio will get here soon enough to put my ass to bed.”

Nope. The tiny human growing in your womb pulled you into a deep slumber. 

By the time Rio reached the threshold of your master bedroom. You were snuggled deep into the covers with pillows surrounding you. His shoulders lowered with a hint of disappointment. Rio knew you wanted him home, even if you hadn't said the words aloud. He could sense the attitude and frustration in your voice when he called to tell you not to wait up. Rio had tried his hardest to get home hours ago, but with every attempt at leaving came more matters that required his attention. He lowered himself to your sleeping form. Adjusting your scarf so it wouldn’t slip off, Rio softly pecked your nose and cheek. After a quick shower, he carefully climbed into his side of the bed, gently pulling two of the many pillows from behind your back. It took some effort, but he managed to cuddle up to you and delicately pull you into him. You stirred for a few moments but quickly fell back into a deep sleep. Your husband watched, smirking at the light snores you released.

“Night, Mama. Love you,” he whispered, kissing your neck.

The following morning, you woke up. Still horny as hell. You rolled over to find his side of the bed empty. He had been there. Rio’s side of the bed looked slept in. Your head turned in the direction of your en suite. Not a peep sounded. He wasn’t in there.

Maybe he’s downstairs. I should fix him something before he heads out. Perhaps he could eat me for breakfast. These freaking pregnancy hormones are out of control. Every waking moment, I feel like swallowing this man whole. When I’m not hungry, I’m horny. When I’m not fiending for my husband, I want to eat everything in sight. Fucking Rio. The dick just doesn’t miss. He shoots the club up every.single.time.

You smiled at your small bump, rubbing soft circles at the sides. Honestly, you didn’t mind being pregnant for the fifth time, but for your sanity (and the kids), this would be your last. If Rio wanted more babies, he had better find a damn good surrogate. Mama’s tired.

Does this man not realize he’ll have to pay for three, possibly four, weddings? Who am I kidding? In his mind, Rio probably believes he’ll be able to chase off any and every potential love interest. He’s in for a rude awakening. My dad didn’t like his ass at first. I have a (legally) pistol-toting father as well. That didn’t stop shit. Now look at us: marriage and a gang of children.

Pregnancy turned you into an impatient woman. When you wanted something, there was no convincing you different. 

In your thoughts, the bedroom door crept open. Rio’s head peeked inside. He noticed you sitting on the side of the bed and stepped into the room. He swaggered over to you, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. His voice was low, and restlessness lingered in his tone.

“Morning, Mama. You sleep alright,” he asked as his fingers took hold of your chin, tilting your head back for a kiss. His rough, calloused fingers danced along your jawline, trailing low enough to graze the outside of your breast. He smiled as you gasped against his lips.

The kiss started sweet, turning into hunger in mere seconds. You tried tugging your husband down onto the bed. Rio pulled back, pecking your lips a few times, before standing upright, hand slowly stroking the inner part of your thigh. With just a few inches, he would've been dangerously close to where you wanted him most. 

“I had to come to kiss my beautiful wife before heading out. I need to slide, mama. I’ve got a lot on my plate today. It's going to be hectic, and shit might get active. I ordered you some breakfast. It’ll be here soon. I’ll probably get in late tonight. Don’t wait up for me. Make sure you and my baby get some rest. Love you,” he said, kissing you again.

“Love you too, Papa,” you exhaled.

You watched him leave and groaned with irritation. 

It would be two nights in a row that he’d be coming in late at night. That typically wouldn’t be an issue. You had grown used to it throughout the years. The only time it became a problem was when you were in your current state: knocked up, horny, and hormonal. It was just something that switched in your brain during these times. You wanted all Rio’s attention. The need to have him buried deep inside you was high, and you couldn’t quite get your fill of him.

Several attempts to distract yourself throughout the day had failed miserably. No matter what you did, your thoughts always redirected themselves back to Rio and sex. You made one last effort to ignore the constant need to devour your husband. Turning Apple Music on shuffle, you opened a magazine and thumbed through it. Unfortunately, the universe wasn't on your side. Every song was more explicit than the previous one. A frustrated sigh fell from your lips as you shut the music off.

Enough is enough. Hubby won’t come to me, but rest assured I can go to him.

You padded to your bedroom closet, looking for a sexy little number. Slipping on a pair of Steve Madden heels, you snatched up your car keys. You set forth on a journey to Rio. Bringing him lunch would be your excuse for showing up unannounced. That reason, however, wasn't enough to prevent the lecture you received from an overprotective husband, Rio. As if that wasn’t enough, you also caught shit from your meddlesome bodyguard/homie, Mick. He escorted you into the warehouse when you arrived.

“Boss lady, you know you’re not supposed to be here,” he instigated.

“Mick, hush. I can bring my husband some lunch. Chill on me.”

“Alright, but you already know. The boss won’t be happy you're out, running around for him.”

“I went to get him some takeout. I didn’t even get out of the car. It was a curbside pickup.”

You were about to continue the debate when Rio’s voice sounded behind you.

“Mama.”

How could one little word send your body into a frenzy? You could sense both curiosity and a little anger in his tone. Mick stood there smirking at you. He knew what was about to go down. It was one thing for you to be out and about with no security detail. That was enough to put you in hot water. The fact that you were pregnant pushed his disappointment to another level.

“Mick, that thing we were about to take care of? Start without me. I need a few moments with my wife.”

He nodded in agreement, giving you a ‘good luck’ smirk on his way out. You turned your attention to Rio after the door closed. His jaw ticked as he shook his head in disbelief.

“What did I tell you about leaving the house with no security detail? You’re supposed to be at home relaxing. What are you even doing out and about? I specifically told you I’d be busy today. You know that’s code for business dealings. Your ass shouldn’t be anywhere near this warehouse right now.”

“I just wanted to bring you lunch, Papa. I needed to see that handsome face,” you replied in your best baby voice.

“Nah, that little voice and smile ain’t cutting it right now. Why are you so damn hardheaded?”

Now you were starting to get a little pissed. It was understandable that Rio was always concerned for your safety, but what choice did you have? Several, you had several. It just couldn’t wait. Yes, you were slightly irritated by his reaction, but the ache in your core grew even more being in his presence. The scent of his cologne wafted through the air. With just one sniff, you could feel your nipples harden.

These hormones are so out of control. I need this man to wreck my shit. The sooner, the better.

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to plead your case.

“But baby-”

“Listen. I’m too busy to have this argument with you right now.”

Rio closed the distance between you and placed his hands on either side of your face. He angrily sighed and pecked your lips.

“I appreciate the gesture, Mama, but please listen to me next time.”

You bit your lip, looking at him apologetically. Snaking your arms around his body, you allowed him to engulf you in a hug. Wrapped tightly in his embrace, Rio caught you off guard, giving you a hard swat on the bottom. His voice was low and gravelly as he growled, “You're trouble, Mama.”

You moaned, pushing your backside deeper into his palms. Eyes drifted shut as you stood on your tiptoes and puckered your lips for a kiss. Rio’s hands caressed the soft, plush globes as his breath fanned your lips. He denied your request for a kiss. Instead, his lips ghosted your neck, and his mouth traveled to your ear. Nipping at your lobe, he rasped, “Sorry, mama. We don’t have time for that. I have to go handle business.”

He pulled away, smirking at the frown that quickly shifted to a pout.

“We can’t spend just a few more minutes together?”

“Don’t do that, ma. You know this is important. Since you’re already out and ignoring my demands, why don’t you spend some time with your best friend? Here, take my card. Lunch is on me.”

This man is so preoccupied with business. He doesn’t even see that I came here to give him a piece of pussy. For some reason, that irritates the hell out of me. Usually, he can read my body like a book. I see where his priorities are at the moment. Business must trump his pregnant wife’s needs. I gave this man four and a half babies, and this is the thanks I get? Let me take my pregnant, horny, irritated tail home. His ass is sleeping on the couch tonight, and I don’t give one fuck that I’m being irrational.

“Nah, I’m good,” you waved your hand dismissively.

Sensing attitude, Rio tilted his head back, giving you a look of incredulity.

“Look, I ain't got time for the dramatics right now. I told you I would be busy. Go home, mama. We can discuss this in the privacy of our home.”

Cocking your head to the side, you gave him an irritated glare. A rush of pregnancy hormones came hurtling towards you. Snatching your handbag and keys from his desk, you stormed out of the room. Rio knew he struck a nerve and possibly hurt your feelings. Stepping into the hall, he called after you. Ignoring him, you stomped out of the building. With an exasperated sigh, your husband ran his hands over his face. Taking a deep breath did little to soothe the irritation that started festering inside him. It also didn’t help that the idiots working the warehouse floor were ogling your behind as you angrily switched out of the building.

“Y’all got a death wish or something? Fuck you looking at,” Rio barked towards the group of men.

“I suggest you get back to work before I unload the clip in this bitch,” he boomed, walking back into his office to cool down before heading to the meeting.

“She’s almost to her car. Hurry up! Follow her. Keep a watchful eye over her. She’s in her feelings. Make sure my wife and child make it home safe,” he ordered one of his men.

Her ass is out here walking around in those tight-ass jeans. We’re about to have a heated exchange when I get home. Out here showing out. She’s over here pressing on my last nerve and still making me want to put her on her back at the same damn time. Thick-ass. Feisty-ass. Sexy-ass. Spoiled-ass. Hormonal-ass woman.

Rio’s detail only served to anger you more. Pulling into your driveway, you flung the car door open, grabbed your stuff, and turned toward the henchman.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter. Either wait out here or take your ass back to the warehouse.”

Not waiting for a response, you went into your home. Setting the alarm, you settled in for a quiet, lonesome evening. You had hoped a nice relaxing shower, comfy PJs, and stuffing your face would put you in a better mood. It could have worked, but your husband kept blowing up your phone.

Annoyed by the fourth call, you answered icily, “What can I do for you, dear?”

Rio could hear the sarcasm in your voice. “This what we on tonight?”

“Why, whatever do you mean, husband?”

“Cut the shit, mama. Why are you ignoring my calls?”

“You were oh so busy. I’d imagine that ignoring you would give you more time to concentrate on business, sweetie.”

“You petty as fuck. Stop being mean, mama.”

His mini flirtations went ignored.

This man hasn’t seen petty yet. Watch me work, Daddy.

“What can I do for you, Christopher?”

“Oh, are we using government names now? Bet. Why are you being stubborn?”

Silence.

“So, you’re not going to say anything?”

 Silence.

 “Mama,” he sighed. 

“Let me make sure I’ve got this right. You’re pissed off–again? That’s two days in a row, mama. I’ve still yet to figure out the reason behind yesterday's bad attitude. Normally, I don’t let that shit slide, but I understand you’re emo-.”

“Call me emotional one more time, Rio.”

“And you’re going to do what, darlin’,” he questioned, voice laced with a hint of warning. Rio chuckled sarcastically, “I got a lot going on right now. Call me back when you’re ready to talk like an adult. Ready to get back on your grown woman shit.”

“Whatever, Christopher. You called me. Nobody wanted to talk to your dusty ass anyway. Get off my line,” with that, you both hung up on one another, more irritated than before the call.

Hours later, you came down from your mood swing. Guilt slowly started to seep into you. Not one to give in and apologize first, you decided it was the right thing to do. Unlocking your phone, you sent a request for FaceTime. It rang twice before being denied.

He’s probably busy. I’ll try again in an hour or so.

The next time you tried his cell, you called. It rang several times before going to voicemail. Waiting another hour, you tried again. Ringing once, it went to voicemail.

Now, wait a fuckin’ minute. One ring means he hit the “f you button.” See, now a bitch is starting to get mad again. Woosah. Fight them mood swings, girl. Fight them!

Just as you had calmed your nerves, a text came through.

Husbaeee (Papa)🥰😈👅💦: You and the baby good?

Wifey (Mama)🌎💍: Yes, we’re fine. Why haven’t you called me back? Are you okay?

Husbaeee (Papa)🥰😈👅💦: I’m busy, remember? You didn’t feel like talking earlier? Why are you so chatty all of a sudden?

His petty ass.

Wifey (Mama)🌎💍: Stop making it hard to tell you sorry, Papa. Chill on me.

Husbaeee (Papa)🥰😈👅💦: Keep your sorry, ma. I’m cool on that. See you when I get home.

Oh, okay! It’s just, ma, now? Bet.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Rio smiled to himself. He purposefully pissed you off again. Part of him did it out of payback, but his main objective was getting you frustrated. If it had done the trick. You would be ripping his clothes off and begging to be fucked once he made it home.

Not one to tell a man where he can and cannot go in his own home. You decided against telling Rio to sleep on the couch. However, the need to be petty was vibrating heavily in your bones. You fought sleep as long as you could, hoping to wait up for him long enough to ignore him for a bit. The baby again had other plans and lulled you into a deep sleep.

Rio braced himself for whatever you had planned to throw his way. He smirked to himself, releasing a low chuckle before exiting the car. Dragging his tired body into the house, your husband entered the code into the security system. Resetting it, he headed in the direction of the bar. He filled a tumbler with two fingers of bourbon. Tossing it back, Rio let the warm liquid flow through his chest. He rinsed the glass, set it in the dishwasher, and headed upstairs. 

Her moody ass is probably sleeping.

Attempting not to wake you, he quietly padded up the stairs. Rio unbuttoned the first couple of buttons on his shirt as he walked toward your shared bedroom. He nearly made it there but stopped in his tracks. The look on his face turned stone cold, and he slowly turned his head to peer into the guest bedroom.

What the fuck is this shit?

There you were, the door cracked, and lights dimmed just enough for him to see you tucked in tight, slumbering peacefully. Your plan to ignore him may have fallen through, but you still managed to be petty even in your sleep.

You jolted awake, feeling arms slip under your frame and pull you up from the mattress. Moments went by as you willed your eyes to wake fully. Your sight focused on Rio’s angered expression, and you pushed at his chest.

“What the hell are you doing? Put me down, Christopher!”

He ignored you. Rio’s jaw ticking as he took long strides exiting the guest room. He carried you into your bedroom, laid you in bed, tucking you in. You started to explain that you were a grown-ass woman and could sleep anywhere you damn well pleased. The look in his eyes forced you to think better of it.

“I don’t give a fuck how angry you are! Your ass will sleep in this bed regardless. Go to bed mad if you want to. Your stubborn ass is going to do it lying next to me. No room for debate, mama. You mad at me? You don’t want to be near me right now? That’s all good, but you sleep in our bed. Roll to the edge of the bed. That's all the space you're getting.”

Rio snatched his shirt over his head and threw it into the clothes hamper. You did your best to bite back any more snarky responses as you watched Rio stalk to the bathroom. The door flew shut, and you mumbled, “Dramatic much.”

The bathroom door swung open. Standing in the doorway, eyes set on you, Rio commanded, “Can you stop talking? Please give me a moment of peace, ma. All that talking’s gon’ land your ass in a world of trouble. Save yourself, mama. Be quiet.”

You cut your eyes at him, sliding down into bed. You lay on the side facing away from him. The corners of your mouth pulled into a mischievous grin. Waiting for the shower to start, you attempted to remove yourself from the bed and head toward the exit. Rio's voice bounced off the bathroom walls, halting your movement.

“Get back in bed, mama.”

You kissed your teeth, “Ain’t nobody left. Shut up, Rio.”

“You heard what I said. Stop playing with me.”

Pouncing back on the bed, you snarled towards the bathroom door.

“Fix your face, ma. You’re trying my patience tonight.”

Can he see through the damn walls or something?

“Nobody worried about you, Christopher.”

“Yeah, okay. Your stubborn ass got back in that bed. Didn’t you?”

Rio wanted to wash the events of the day away. He wanted a few quiet minutes to destress, but being a little hellcat, you wouldn’t give him that. You had a response for everything. He loved you combative and keyed up, but tonight, you were laying it on thick and wouldn’t let up. Rio was slightly irritated that his plan to piss you off again was starting to backfire. Taking a few calming breaths, he readied himself to regain control of the situation.  

The water cut off, and he walked into the room, towel hanging dangerously low around his waist. There were beads of water sliding down his naked torso. Being irritated by him wasn’t enough to stop your eyes from tracing him from head to toe. Squeezing your thighs together, you bit your lip, fighting the urge to jump on him. Rio felt your eyes on him and smirked in your direction. He laid a fresh pair of underwear on the foot of the bed. Standing upright, his eyes connected with yours as Rio pulled the towel from his waist. His eyes stayed on you as he took the time to dry the rest of his body. Your vision latched onto his manhood as you watched it swing from side to side. The tip of your tongue danced across your lips, and Rio rasped, “You hungry, mama?” The knowing smirk on his face aggravated you. Not thinking it through, you mumbled, “Like you give a fuck.”

A low and bitter chuckle fell from Rio’s lips. That was your last chance. His bottom lip pulled between his teeth. His eyes darkened and held yours as he slipped into his underwear. Tossing the towel into the hamper, he crept toward you. The silence that filled the air added to the moment's intensity.

Rio’s fingers glided along the column of your neck. His digits cupped your chin, giving it a light squeeze as a warning. His face crowded your own. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking. Finally, you had pissed him off enough to get the reaction you craved. Wetness pulled between your thighs in anticipation.

“This all could’ve been avoided, mama.”

Rio’s thumb traced your bottom lip as he backed away. You watched in confusion as he stepped into a pair of sweatpants and grabbed his phone. Stepping toward the door, you asked, “Where are you going?”

“Thought you didn't want to be near me, darlin’? I think you need some time alone. Just go to bed. I'm not tired.”

“I’ve been alone for two days! You’re such an asshole.”

His hand gripped the doorknob as he rolled his neck and shoulders. He was fighting the urge to pounce. With his back to you, Rio finished, “Next time you want to be fucked. Just say that, ma.”

You growled in annoyance, chucking a pillow against his back as he walked out of the room.

“Your ass is lucky you're carrying my baby. It's the only thing keeping me from snatching your little ass up. Crazy ass woman,” he called out from the hallway.

You punched your pillows and got back in bed. Too upset to sleep, a slew of emotions rained down on you. First, there were tears of frustration. Then anger, followed by another round of guilt.

Why do I keep putting this man through hell? All over some dick. That’s what it comes down to. However, if he would’ve cracked my damn back, this shit could’ve been avoided. You're so damn busy you can’t slide inside me and bust a quick nut? 

You smiled, rolled your eyes, and finished your thoughts.

Damn, I’m a brat. Let me drag grumpy pants back to bed. I thought, “wE sLeEp BeSiDe EaCh OtHeR No MaTtEr WhAt,” Head ass.

Rio was sitting on the edge of the living room sofa, arms draped over his lap. The longer he sat there thinking over the day and your attitude. The more he had to fight the urge to do the things he truly wanted. Rio fisted the top of his pants as wicked thoughts of you crying out for him cycled through. His hands trembled, filled with the need to possess and punish you. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back to calm his hunger. That plan fell through as your scent flowed into the room. He groaned, opening his eyes and settling his gaze on you.

“You could’ve slept in the guest room. Why are you being extra? I thought we didn’t sleep in separate rooms anyway?”

“I’m not about to keep going back and forth with you. Just go back to bed, Mama,” he responded with tiredness in his voice.”

That pulled at your heartstrings.

Be nice, bitch.

You swallowed your pride and made the first move toward reconciliation.

“Come back to bed, Rio. I’m sorry for being unreasonable, papa.”

Still standing in the entryway of the spacious living room, you waited for a response. The room was painfully quiet as you two watched one another. Rio’s gaze trailed your body. It was just something about you in his T-shirts that always drove him crazy. He kept his expression blank, making it hard for you to get a read on him. The silence continued for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was different. It wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t happy either.

It was dominant, possessive even. 

“Come here.”

Oh, shit. Not that voice. Anything but that.

There were two types of dominant Rio. One, you had been working his nerves for. The other? Not so much. You stayed frozen in place.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Your legs carried you over to him. Stepping between him and the coffee table, you waited for further instruction.

“Look, I know I’ve been working your nerves-.”

“Mm-Mm. Quiet. Talking seems to be your downfall, Mama.”

Rio’s hands reached up and grasped your hips.

“Sit,” he instructed, pulling you into a seated position on the coffee table.

His elbows rested on the top of his knees, hands folded underneath his chin.

“You’ve been doing your best to get my attention. Now that you have it. You seem a bit worried, Mama. It’s what you wanted. Right?”

Silence.

“Good girl. You finally learned how to listen and not talk. It’s a little shocking, honestly. You’ve had so much to say for the past two days. Now, when it seems you’re about to get the response you want, and then some. You don’t have shit to say.”

You could feel the heat radiating off of him. Fucked. That’s what you were. There were times when you would overdo it, pushing him too far. Tonight was going to be one of those nights. Pulling in a shaky breath, you continued to listen. Being pregnant, you didn’t know how he would play it. That alone sent a shiver down your body.

See, this is what my emotional, spoiled ass gets. It’s too late to turn back now. Dear sweet Kitty Kat, I wish you the best of luck, girl.

“What’s wrong, darlin’? You seem a bit nervous.”

More silence.

Rio leaned towards you, placing his hands on your plush thighs. He was so close your noses were an inch apart. He tilted his head, angling it to nip your bottom lip. Pulling back, his hand massaged your left cheek. It circled your skin as he leaned back in.

“My hands itching to wrap around your throat, Mama. You know I can’t act like this and do things like that when you’re carrying my child. I don’t take risks with my seed, and you know that. Playing with your oxygen supply is the same as messing with theirs. So why the fuck do you keep trying me,” he groaned.

“Baby, I’m-“

“Shhh.” He laid a gentle kiss on your lips. “You've been talking all day. Right now is a time for listening, darlin’.”

He leisurely rose from the couch, towering over you.

“Let’s put your mouth to better use. Yeah?”

Your breath hitched as his fingers threaded through your hair. Tugging it, he tilted your head back, pecking your lips again. Rio’s eyes held yours as his free hand dipped inside his sweatpants and briefs. Releasing and stroking his member, he hovered over you.

“You wanted some attention. Right, mama? You need dick? Open that pretty little mouth for me.”

Rio jerked your head forward. Hand still wrapped tightly around his thick length, he tapped it on your lips. Your mouth watered and instantly fell open.

“Now you want to be a good girl,” he groaned, swiping the head of his cock on the tip of your tongue.

You started to wrap your mouth around him, but he backed away. A whimper fell from your mouth. Rio held your chin, “I’ll tell you when you can eat it up, Mama,” he whispered, gently tapping your face with his girth.

“You so fucking fine. Wet juicy ass lips got my shit throbbing,” Rio moaned, bending down to kiss you again. Eyes blazing, you used your mouth to capture his thumb. You suckled it, giving him doe eyes. It was as if your beautiful orbs were pleading for him to give in. Your body was so wound up it screamed for some sort of relief. You so desperately wanted to taste him. Thoughts of him spilling his seed into your mouth had you salivating. Rio’s lips parted as his tongue did that snake motion you loved. He slid his thumb from your lips, moving it out of reach.

“Can’t even ruin you in the manner you deserve. I want to shove my dick in that pretty little mouth and fuck your throat until you choke. Damn, I want to leave you gasping for air, voice hoarse. You know I love the way you swallow the dick.”

 An appreciative whimper sounded from your lips. Rio’s eyes danced with excitement. He took joy at the needy and desperate look on your face. The rise and fall of your chest quickened as sinful sounds came from your sweet lips. 

“Look at you moaning and whimpering. That’s my nasty bitch. Does the thought of me shoving myself down that pretty little throat turn you on, mama? It makes you wet. Doesn’t it?”

You shivered and released a stuttered breath, “Daddy, please.” He smiled wickedly, “Damn, I love it when you beg, darlin’.”

“Christopher, please. I’m about to go crazy. I don't think I've ever wanted to swallow you down this bad. Please, Papa. I need you.”

A chuckle fell from his lips. Rio swallowed hard, and you could see the pulse dancing on the side of his neck. His eyes grew darker as he leaned close enough, and you felt his breath brush against your lips.

“You are so cute, mama. Beg as much as you want. The question is: Do you think you deserve it,” he whispered, peppering your lips with light kisses. The corners of his lips lifted, forming a smile as you panted the word yes. “Mm, no. I don't think so, darlin’. You've been stomping around, throwing tantrums, twisting and turning, rolling that neck for days now.”

Your impatience and temper got the best of you.

“If you're so tired of my damn attitude. Put me out of my misery already. You're the one being stingy with the dick! You can't find a few moments to love on your wife?”

There was that sinister smile once more. Rio’s hand went to wrap around your throat, but halfway he stopped. Closing it into a fist tightly, he forced it down to his side. He smirked, slowly opening his mouth to speak, “You’re letting these hormones rattle you, mama. They got you impatient as fuck and coming out of pocket.”

Tucking himself back into his sweats, Rio reclaimed his spot on the sofa. Leaning back into the cushions, he watched your face twist up in frustration.

“Fuck this. I’m going back upstairs. Sleep wherever you want. I don’t care.”

“Sit. Down,” Rio roared.

You froze, back still facing him.

“I’m getting tired of saying things twice,” Rio hissed. “Sit your ass down.”

You swung around and stomped to the coffee table to reclaim your seat.

“Not there. Come here.”

Standing in front of him, you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You beckoned? Dear sweet husband.”

Though Rio wore a thin smile, you could tell he didn’t find shit amusing. Glancing at his lap, he whispered, “Sit.”

You kissed your teeth, plopping into his lap. He pressed up against you, hands gripping your waist. “You enjoy making me tick. Don’t you darlin’?”

Not waiting for you to answer, one hand abandoned your waist. It slid into your hair, tugging at the strands. The action caused you to release something Rio couldn’t decipher. What had started as a gasp shifted to a whimper and ended as a moan. The sound caused his erection to twitch underneath you as he bit back a groan.

“Why are you giving Daddy a hard time? Thought you loved me, Mama,” he teased.

Your lips parted, but he tugged more, signaling you to remain silent.

“Don’t deny it, love. I’m over here fighting everything in me right now. I know how you want it. You ain’t in no condition for that, baby girl.”

“How do I want it, Papa,” you whispered breathlessly.

Rio’s hand trailed to the column of your neck. He gave it a light, gentle squeeze. Pulling your ear to his lips, he groaned, “You want that rough shit. Need me to choke you. Talk my shit and say all the nasty things you like. Pin you down, fuck you until you cry. That’s what you want, yeah,” he questioned, nipping at your earlobe.

A smirk danced across his face at the sound of your whimpering.

“Can’t you just do it as gently as possible? Please, you begged, grinding into his lap.

His growl bounced off the living room walls. It was a signal, a warning, but you couldn’t help yourself. Circling your hips, you pressed further into his erection. Rio hissed, “Behave. You really gotta chill, Mama.”

You stood long enough to turn and straddle his thigh. His hands cradled your small bump. Pecking his lips, you watched as Rio’s eyes fluttered closed. The two of you slipped into a sensual kiss. Your hips rolled as you started to grind your moist panties against his thigh.

“Papa, please. I’m begging you. I need you. I’ll take it any way you’d like.”

He sucked in a shallow breath, grasping your chin.

“I know you will. You don’t have a choice, mama.”

Cocky motha-.

“Keep grinding that slick little pussy against me, baby,” he rasped, grabbing up the globes of your behind. “Now I know you can do better than that. Grind harder,” he finished with a smack to each cheek. Mouths collided as your fingers traced patterns along the nape of his neck. Your tongues wrestled for dominance. His palms dug into your supple flesh, guiding you along the slick spot that started to form on his thigh.

“Damn, mama. Just the sound of my voice makes that little pussy weep, yeah?”

He watched you with pride, your eyes shut tight, breathing ragged. Rio moved his hands to your breast, giving them a light squeeze. He moaned as his teeth sunk into your bottom lip.

“Go a little faster. Pull yourself toward the edge, darlin’.”

Your body rocked faster against his drenched thigh as his hand crept until it found its way underneath your shirt, pulling at the hardened nipples.

“Christopher.”

“Hmm, baby? Talk to me, mama. What do you need from Daddy?”

The words got stuck in your throat, and you edged closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Your head tilted back, and the mewl you released made all Rio’s blood rush to his thick member. He peppered kisses along the soft skin of your neck, cooing, “You close, baby girl? Hmm? Come on now, tell me how you feel, darlin’. Let me hear that pretty voice.”

“So damn close. Add a little pressure, Daddy. Press into me, please.”

Rio chuckled, lifting his thigh just enough to give you the desired pressure.

“That better, sweetheart?”

“Fuck,” you whispered. Ye-I’ma come. Please-.”

You started to tremble, signaling an explosive orgasm. Rio’s fingers gripped your waist, halting all movement. A high-pitched whine echoed throughout the room as you tried to power through his grasp and thrust your hips. His hold on you was too strong to fight. The teasing chuckle he gave frustrated you.

“Why would you do that? Don’t play with me like that, Rio,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you thought this was about to be easy? No, love. See where all the nagging and expectations got you. Playing with my patience had you believing I would let you have your way. Fuck that. You better work for that shit, mama. You know how I operate, and I ain’t feeling too generous right now.” He pinched your nipple, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

Shoving his shoulder, he fell back against the couch, pinning you with a mischievous glint.

“Ain’t shit funny, Rio. You’re pissing me off,” you snapped, pacing the hardwood floor.

“That makes two of us,” he countered, shrugging his shoulders.

“What happened to a happy wife, a happy life? I’m carrying your child. Where is the love?”

“So damn dramatic. You just knew you’d get your way, huh?”

You stopped, turning to face him. Your arms crossed your ample chest. Frustration ran deep in your mind. The two of you matched glare for glare.

Rio’s eyes darkened as he stood, walking toward you. He kissed you long and hard, backing you toward the living room wall. Your body shivered as you made contact with the chilled surface. He broke the kiss and rasped, “Should’ve used these past few minutes to make a convincing argument,” he tsked. “I don't even know if you deserve to come at this point, darlin’.”

Rio dropped to his knees, and you watched his head disappear underneath the fabric of your shirt. Heat pulsed throughout your core as you felt Rio pull fabric aside. Thousands of tiny sparks flooded your body as you felt his wet, warm tongue trail from the bottom of your dripping sex to the top. His middle and pointer fingers spread you open while the tip of his tongue danced around your bundle of nerves. You released a shuttered breath, head tilting back as your eyes fluttered closed. Without having to look up, Rio paused his licking and growled, “Keep you’re fucking eyes on me. Take off this damn shirt, and watch me eat this pussy up, mama.” 

Say less. I got you, Zaddy.

His eyes burned with passion at the sight of your breast. “You don’t need these either,” he rasped, tearing the panties from your body. Without another word, his head dipped back between your thighs. He teased you with nips and licks until you squirmed, begging for more. The pace had started achingly slow. His breath fanned your lower lips, “Look at you wiggling and shit. Are you aching for me, mama?” Rio inhaled your scent, “Damn, I’m about to eat this shit up.”

“Less talking. More licking, Papa,” you mewled, trying to thrust your heat back into his face. Rio leaned away.

“See, that’s your problem. You need to learn patience, mama. We don’t need to rush. Let me take my time and enjoy all this fine dining.”

“Truthfully, you get off on torturing me, don’t you?”

Instead of using his words, Rio answered with action. Still holding your lips apart, three fingers from the opposite hand pressed into your clit, rubbing wide circles slowly.

In a husky tone, he taunted, “Come on, sweetheart, I know you can get wetter than this.” Your sarcastic rebuttal halted as he continued, “Let me help you with that, ma.”

His words fully registered as you felt his saliva collide with your silky flesh. His mouth covered your lips again, alternating between slow, languid strokes and rapid, hungry licks. From the movement of his tongue to the way he gripped your thighs. Feeling everything at once was hurdling toward a powerful orgasm. His fingers rejoined the party, using them to fumble with your clit as he thrust his tongue into you.

“N-no, baby. Not ye-it’s too soon. S-slow down, fuck!”

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, trying to pull his fingers away. Rio swatted it as he hoisted you higher, locking his arms around your thighs.

“I thought you wanted to come though, Mama,” he teased. “Let me switch it up for you, yeah?”

His tongue replaced those same fingers, licking and sucking your sweet little nub like a man who hadn’t eaten in days.

“Oh! You fucking demon. Daddy, no,” you mewled, body starting to jerk. The sensation sent tingles throughout as your fist pounded against the wall. The digits of the other hand dug into his scalp. You felt him smile against your flesh, moaning and growling. Slipping three fingers inside, he flexed them, deliciously tapping your g-spot. The pace of his digits quickened as his lips wrapped around your abused clit, and he sucked as hard as he could. Your body writhed. The feeling was so intense you considered climbing the wall.

This bitch would go harder. I need to learn how to shut up.

Rio tsked again, “There’s nowhere for you to run, Mama. Daddy got you locked in,” he taunted, fingers speeding up a little more. “Thought this is what you wanted, hm? You've been crying for this all day. Is it too much for you, baby?” Rio’s fingers slipped out of you, and the palm of his hand delivered smacks over your lips. “Yeah! There we go! That’s that wet shit, mama.” Rio dove back in, the sounds of his mouth on your body growing more lewd by the second. All you could do was tremble and whimper. Rio groaned, his mouth devouring you. His words tickled your slick heat, “ You gon’ come for me? Hmm? My mouth got you leaking all over the place.” Your legs started to shake as his tongue lashed at your skin. 

“Answer me, ma,” he demanded, harsh yet sexy.

“Yes, fuck. I’m so close, shit!”

“Beg me to let you come.”

“Please, Papa! Let me come all over that sinfully delicious tongue.”

“I know you’re close. Look at that pretty little pussy squeezing around my fingers,” Rio teased, adding a fourth finger. “Look at these thick thighs shaking,” he taunted. Your husband took a moment to nip at your inner thighs. “Soft as fuck. Tastes so damn good.” His lips licked and sucked at the soft skin as he massaged your g-spot.

“Hold on a bit longer for me.”

His eyes glistened, and you knew Rio was about to make you suffer. There was something in his expression that just reeked of revenge. Minutes ticked by, and you were proven right: every torturous lick of his tongue was his getback. Every time his lips captured your bundle of nerves, it felt like he was trying to suck the soul out of you. He had brought you to the edge for the third time, only to slow down. Tears threatened to spill as you begged and pleaded. At this point, you were no longer begging him to come on his talented tongue. You just wanted him to wrap your legs around his waist and pound you into an earth-shattering orgasm. Twice, you had tried pulling his head away, pressing him to fuck you. Both times, Rio denied you and went right back to eating. His greedy mouth slurped at your juices, “Mm-mm, mama. Daddy’s still hungry.”

His tongue grazed your clit, causing your body to shiver with force. You cried out, “Rio, please! You have to let me come. I can’t do this anymore.” Tears trailed down your cheeks, tugging at his heart a bit. He kissed your nub once more before he pulled up from between your legs. Using the pads of his thumbs, he wiped at the remnants of your tears. Pecking your lips, his hands cradled your face. “I’m sorry, mama. Shh, I know, baby. I know. Breathe for me, catch your breath.”

How could your emotions be all over the place? Yet, every ounce of you still ached for him. Though you were irritated and pissed at the way he edged you. The need to be fucked and orgasm was still the top priority. You could curse him out later. Truthfully, you had done it to yourself. You knew pushing him too far was what brought you here. Patience and understanding had been an option that would have left you well rewarded. Instead, you had opted to try to force his hand.

I’m pregnant, horny, and a bit illogical at the moment. I want what the fuck I want, and I want it now.

Rio’s eyes locked with yours, his orbs still dark but sympathetic at the same time. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he swept hair that blocked your vision. Taking a deep breath, he leaned in, lips brushing against yours.

“I’ma stop fucking with you, mama,” he whispered, stealing a kiss.

Rio shushed your whimpering as his hands trailed back down your body and between your thighs. His fingers brushed your slit, collecting moisture along the way. His fingers slid lower until they reached the destination they were in search of. Two fingers penetrated you as his free hand tweaked your nipple. You sucked in a sharp breath as his digits tapped against that special place in warp speed.

“R-rio. Oh, God,” you mewled. “No, please. I want you inside. I need you inside me, baby. Why won’t you just-.”

His head fell into the crook of your neck as you pleaded. An anguished growl echoed against your throat.

“I can’t right now, mama. I just can’t,” he responded helplessly as his fingers kept slamming into you. “Give it to me, mama. I know you can’t hold it anymore. Come for me, baby girl,” he moaned against your skin.

“But why? Oh! Fuck! Y-yes. God, yes,” you cried, falling over the edge.

“Fuck, mama. My arm’s soaked,” he groaned, breath shallow, as he trailed kisses down your neck. He waited for you to respond, but the only sound he heard was sniffling. Rio pulled back with a quickness, hands cradling your face once more. He kissed you, “What’s wrong, mama? Why are you crying?”

“Are you not attracted to me anymore?”

“Mama. Don’t start. Why wouldn’t I be attracted to you? That’s a wild ass question. Please don’t take this wrong, but these hormones got you all messed up. You know better than to ask me such a ludicrous question.” 

Your eyes started to water again, and Rio threw his head back, running his hand down his face. Releasing a long sigh, “Don’t start again, mama. You’re all over the place today. One minute, you’re cursing me out, trying to push me away. The next minute, you’re on me. I damn sure can’t keep up with the mood swings today. Now I’m getting pissed all over again because you're questioning my love for you.”

“It’s a simple question, Rio. Something must be wrong since you won’t fuck your wife. It can’t be that bizarre of a question. Just admit it. I’m gaining weight (not to mention I was already plushie before), so you’re not interested.”

“What number mood swing is this?”

“Fuck you, Rio.”

“You’d like that? A fuck. Wouldn’t you?”

“Such a dickish response!”

You stormed away, ignoring his demands not to walk away from him. Upon entering your bedroom, you slammed the door. Climbing under the covers, you snuggled down until you found a comfortable spot. He didn’t immediately follow you upstairs. Sinking back into the couch, he tried to calm his temper. 

Rio’s mood/urge was why Y/N hadn’t gotten what she wanted in the first place. He was right back to being as pissed as he was earlier. It was all the more reason to stay where he was until he could calm himself. During the first round of this sexually charged argument, it had taken every fiber in him not to fuck you relentlessly. No matter how bad you both wanted it. He wasn’t comfortable with manhandling you at a time like this.

He tilted his head back against the cushions and chuckled to himself. Looking back over the day, you had been a pain in the ass. However, Rio loved that you were adamant about getting what you desired.

The fact that she thinks there’s a way for me to be gentle and rough in that sort of head space is laughable. I love this crazy ass woman.

He replayed the last of your conversation. Guilt crept in as he remembered how your lip trembled as you fought back tears of frustration and neediness while leaving the room. Thinking the situation over, Rio started to hold himself accountable. He knew what to expect at times like this. If he was being honest, having another baby was mainly his idea. That thought alone had him shaking his head and smirking.

This woman is going to drive me insane. She can’t be serious thinking I’m not attracted to her right now because she’s pregnant. If anything, that makes my dick harder. These kinks, man. Her ass knows I love her any size. Mama knows I love it when she’s stupid thick. Damn, I want to bend her ass over something. Just wait until baby girl or boy gets here. I’m going to remember every single mood swing and attitude. Like that man Miguel once said, that pussy gon’ be mine. Let me check on her mean ass. Remember to remain calm, Rio.

He flipped off all the lights downstairs and made sure everything was locked up tight. It was pitch black in the master suite. Rio entered quietly, not wanting to wake you. The faint sounds of sniffles came from under the covers on your side of the bed. Your husband’s head hung low at the sounds, shaking it side to side in disbelief. Sadness ached deep in his chest. It had never been his intention to make you feel unwanted. He certainly didn’t mean for you to feel unattractive. You had pushed him to that place of uncertainty. Rio didn’t trust himself enough to remain gentle. His anger had been raging off and on for the past two days. It was time for him to set the record straight and make things right.

Self-control, my boy. Self-control. I may not be able to choke her. Let that mouth get to firing off again. I’ma spank this woman. Lord, help me.

He approached your side of the bed, attempting to lower the comforter, but it wouldn’t budge. You grumbled, “Don’t, Christopher. Just get in bed. Let’s get some rest. We can discuss this in the morning.” The fabric of the blankets muffled your voice a bit, but Rio could hear how you fought back tears.

Rio gently rubbed what he believed to be your hip. “Don’t hide from me,” he rasped.

“I’m not. Goodnight, Papa.”

He lowered his head, rubbing soothing circles against your back. He stood there a few moments, trying to find a way to make things better. A thought entered his mind. His head leaned to the side as he gave a quick head nod. Heading to his side of the bed, Rio checked his notifications one last time, setting the ringer to silent. He grabbed an item from the nightstand, setting it to the side. Rio got into bed, sliding closer. The feeling of his chest pressing against your back as he joined you under the covers.

“You still mad at me, Mama,” he questioned, leaving butterfly kisses against your skin. “You gon’ forgive me, hm?”

“Shut up, Rio,” you responded with a giggle and sniffle.

“You know you’re crazy for thinking that bullshit, right? I love you, mama. Don’t you know that you’re my favorite person in this world? I love you for life, woman,” he explained. “I’ll always be attracted to you, no matter what. You’re my heart and world, baby girl.” Rio nibbled at your neck. “Those better be happy sniffles, he teased.

“They are, trust me. Thank you for the reassurance, Papa,” you responded, voice still shaky.

His fingers caressed your thighs, drawing small patterns on your flesh, lips peppering kisses against a bare shoulder back to the soft spot below your ear.

“Papa, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m still wet from earlier,” you whispered, lower lips tingling again.

Rio shushed you as his tongue swept across the column of your neck. “You looked so damn good in those jeans with the heels. You just had to get me hard while I was working. Didn’t you? How am I supposed to focus with images of fucking you against my desk floating through my head?”

“I just wanted to see you, baby.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

His hand slid between soft thighs, swiping at the moisture pooling between your folds.

“Always wet. Forever ready for me. Shit. Give me those lips, ma.”

Both of you tried to take control of the kiss until his fingers pulled away. You huffed, “Not this shit again-Oh! Shit,” you moaned. Not only had he placed his hand back where it was, but you felt a lovely buzzing sensation against your clit. “Yes,” you whispered.

“Been waiting for the right time to break this out. You’ve been rambling on about that damn toy, so I bought you a rose, Mama. How’s that feel?” Unable to speak, you answered with a sweet sigh. Rio’s lips connected to your temple. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughed, increasing the speed.

Between his lips and the toy, you hadn’t noticed Rio tugging down his sweatpants. The kiss broke as you mewled. He bit his lip, watching you gasp at the feel of the rose pressed against your nub while his aching erection slid back and forth against your folds. The leaking tip dipped in and out of your spasming channel. The covers kicked down to the foot of the bed as Rio’s hungry gaze drank in the writhing of your bodies. His breathing quickened, listening to your faint moans.

“I think we’re both a bit calmer now. Don’t you agree, Mama,” he questioned, sucking in a breath at the wetness pulling around his tip.

If you had heard him, Rio didn’t wait for a response. He reclaimed your mouth, sinking his thick, veiny rod inside you.

“Got Damn,” you both moaned in unison.

“That’s a good girl. Take it all, Mama. So fucking tight. Grip that shit.”

Burying your head in your pillow, you trembled, moaning repetitively. Rio’s hands sunk into the plushness of your waist. His finger sunk deeper, pressing your behind into his lap. Pumping you slowly, you felt his hips do that circular motion. 

“Faster, Daddy. Please go faster.”

“Whatever you say, love,” he answered, pulling your hair and snapping his hips harder. “The settings go higher, baby.” Shifting the rose to its highest voltage, he growled at the screams that bounced around the room.

“T-too much. Fuck!”

“No, ma. You got this. Take that shit. Don’t you want me to make that pussy feel good, yeah? Yes, baby. Oh, shit. Take it, baby. Just let me pound that pretty little flower.”

Every thrust sent you higher. Your fingers dug into Rio’s hand as you thrashed about the bed.

“You keep fucking me like this. I’m not going to last much longer,” you whined.

“You got that. Go on and wet that shit up, mama. Fall apart. Come for, Daddy. I’ll put you back together and break you apart again. Don’t bury your face in the pillow. Let me hear you come loud and clear. Come for me right fucking now,” he demanded, giving your ass a hard smack.”

“Fu-Chris! Baby,” you screamed, body tensing, shaking violently. Kisses danced along your temple. Whimpers continued to fall from your lips, the aftershocks sending waves throughout your body. Rio attempted to center and bring you back down from the high.

“You’re good, mama. I got you. Good job,” he praised. 

You couldn’t imagine a better way to end a long day. At least that's what you thought until Rio decided to take it one step further.

“I’m not finished with you yet, baby girl,” he whispered.

Rio slid out of you, laying on his back, while he waited for you to turn toward him. Your face hovered over his. Staring lovingly into his eyes, you spoke softly.

“Tell me what you need, Papa,” you questioned, stroking his jaw.

He reached for your leg, bringing it over his to straddle him. Hands traveled the length of your body, stopping to cup your breast. Through body language alone, the communication was clear. Giving him a gentle nod, lip tucking between your teeth. Rio felt your digits wrap around his length, rising just enough. You slowly slipped his throbbing length into the slick cavern. The two of you moaned in unison.

Rio sat up, wrapping his arms around your waist. You rode him slow and steady. Biting your lip, he encouraged you, “Mm, that's it, mama. You feel so good.” He wrapped his lips around your nipple, tongue circling it hungrily. Giving it a playful bite pulled a meal from your lungs. Releasing the taut bud, Rio whimpered, “Keep squeezing me. Just like that. Fuck.”

He tugged one of your hands from his shoulder, placing the digits around the column of his throat. He smirked as your eyes widened.

“I can’t choke you, so why don’t we switch shit up? You be me for a change, mama. Be rough with Daddy, yeah?”

A tremble coursed through you at the thought of it.

“It’s your body, mama. You’re in control. Ride me as hard as you can stand it.” He pecked your lips, cooing, “Are you going to ride your daddy nice and hard, hm? This is your dick. Take it, mama,” he insisted, giving your bottom another slap.

Pushing at his chest, you laid him back against the mattress. Your hand tightened around his throat as your hips circled, taking him as deep as possible. Your head fell back as your speed increased.

“Oh,” you cried. “Daddy!”

“Look at me,” he gasped.

Your face floated above his, and you started to bounce erratically. Rio’s face twisted up as he grunted your name. The hold on his throat tightened, causing him to bite his lip harder. You felt his hands spank and grip your cheeks. The two of you entered a lip lock as the headboard banged against the wall. Coming up for air, you felt him twitch inside you.

“Fuck, Mama. I’m about to nut. Is that what you want, baby? Do you want to be filled up? Yeah, I know you do, darlin’. F-fuck! Come with me, mama! Right now!”

You both plummeted over the edge, calling out each other’s name. Trying to keep balance, your hands rested against Rio’s chest. He sat up, pulling you into an embrace. Leaving kisses all over your face, you giggled breathlessly. His arm reached around your waist, guiding you to lie down comfortably.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. Stay right here. I got you, mama.”

Rio disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm towel. With the aftercare complete, he quickly got himself together. Making his way to the kitchen, Rio returned with a glass of ice water for you.

“Drink up. You need to replenish, ma.”

“Thank you, Papa. What about you, though?”

“Drank it downstairs, " he responded, cuddling up to you.

“So we’re switching roles now? Is that what we are doing,” you teased.

Rio’s laugh bellowed throughout the room. “Listen, ma. You’re little thirsty ass needed that rough shit. I figured since I’m not doing that right now. You can get your fix if I relinquish a little bit of that power. Temporarily, of course.” He gave your shoulder a playful bite. “You should know I’m keeping tabs for the remainder of this pregnancy.”

“Tabs? What tabs?”

“I’m keeping a mental log of every time you act up. The moment the doctor clears you. That thick ass will be stinging, and you won’t be able to walk straight for a few weeks. Maybe a month,” he shrugged, nonchalance written on his handsome face. His eyes reduced to slits, “Breath play’s about to be a beast for you, mama. Hate it for you.”

“No, you don’t, liar.”

“You said it. Not me,” Rio shrugged.

He felt your fist collide with his arm.

“Aye, chill out now. You know what, let me put this shit in my notes. What is this? That makes at least eight offenses. For the day alone.”

“Whatever. Goodnight, crybaby.”

“Says the woman that’s been crying all night.”

“Don’t piss me off again, Rio. Go to sleep. Keep in mind that you won’t be leaving for work on time. I can tell that I’ll be just as needy in the morning. Have my dick ready.”

“Just admit that you only want me for my body,” he teased.

You kissed your teeth and mugged his forehead.

“Aye! Chill. Where my kisses at?”

Rio pulled your leg over his waist, cradling your bump, and kissed you goodnight.

What did y'all think about that roller coaster? Hope you enjoyed it. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, lovelies 💕!

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