#to this day i can't read before bed because it makes me wide awake and not sleepy at all and a bit hyperactive

[lilacchao]

Fandom people to get to know better!

tagged by @greenshi! (i was an odd choice, im still not sure what a "fandom" is beyond probably counting as part of the cpu kerfuffle one?? maybe??? is it like a kingdom?????? but anyway, i'll give it a go)

uhhh if im tagging anyone... well they'd better be someone not tagged by green, and who i expect to be able to answer any of these...... uhhh @lemmmmmmmmmmonade

Three Ships I Like: well. tricky start. i guess the trinity of silly cpu kerfuffle dantoinette ships, crimtoinette, prismtoinette, and danimint? they're funny c:

First ship ever: so, like, first romantic relationship in media i was particularly aware of? uhhh, hmm. hold on while i go for a swim in the memory soup. this feels like asking a fish their favourite sandwich, but the answer iiiis (probably) carrot and angua from the discworld city watch books? i'd've encountered them pretty early, can't think of any i'd've actually noticed sooner unless there's relationships i've forgotten in narnia or something

Last song you heard: cross your heart, from the cassette beasts soundtrack

Favourite childhood book: this may be extensive, i didn't have a specific favourite... i remember liking 'the castle of dark' and bringing it into school once as "my favourite", presumably it's this book by tanith lee, i unfortunately don't particularly remember it - i also loved most discworld books (plus nation, dark side of the sun, and the johnny books), a book called 'the mystery house' (but it doesn't seem to be any of the ones i can find), 'antigrav' by nicholas fisk, the 'the dark is rising' series by susan cooper (which iirc was excellent), various robert rankin books (love his writing style), the chronicals of prydain, dirk gently, various jasper ffordes (thursday next, shades of grey road to saffron city, last dragonslayer, big over easy, etc), various alan garners (owl service, weirdstone of brisingamen, idr them all too well beyond being very welsh, never did read red shift), anthony horowitz's 'power of five' series (never finished it, i don't think they were all out yet), darren shan's 'darren shan' and 'demonata' series (yes i typed that first one right), also read many jiggy mccue and warriorcats books, also i was terrified of carbonel for some reason (probably this one by barbara sleigh? i've asked my mum about it and she doesn't know why i found it scary, but i was too scared to get far into it at all!) and also terrified of louise lawrence's power of stars (with good reason)

Currently reading: been reading various discworld books to friends, currently reading wee free men for that c: also reading a ukelele book that ominously says "it doesn't get any easier..." on the cover, and intending to get around to reading matt parker's 'love triangle', ryan north's 'how to invent everything', hugh bowden's 'mystery cults in the ancient world', and hana videen's 'the deor hord: an old english bestiary' (those last two have been on the list for over a year now... oops!)

Currently watching: rewatching the first series of 'heroes', (re)watching (depending on episode, last time i saw it the full collection wasn't out yet) 'the goodies' with family, watching deepblueink's 'deep space discounts' much like green

Currently consuming: my midnight snacks c: which i've almost finished :c

Currently craving: more midnight snacks!!!!!!

[k2ntoss]

doing a part of the request my fave jason simp, 🦊 anon, made some time ago AND THAT I FEEL BAD FOR REPLYING UNTIL NOW

so writer's block who? i just needed a sex and the city episode to pull out this so here we fucking GO

it's been quite a while since sleeping on jason's place is a regular thing, not only sleeping but spending time there on his free time watching him cook or just sit together to read a book. it's by far the best feeling ever because even if he isn't fucking you into oblivion during the night being by his side feels just right.

despite everything being so perfect and nice there are some boundaries he isn't letting you cross yet and the reason? explained properly and understood by you, he was trying to make sure you'd be safe without anyone finding a way to get to you and hurt you wanting to hurt him with it. that meant not leaving personal stuff on his place, it was risky to let you spend so much time around but he couldn't resist it, jason loved being able to have his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he read on the couch, leaning in every now and then to kiss your cheek.

the room was still dark, it was early when you had started to wake up from your slumber to squirm under jason's arm that was holding you tight against his chest as he nuzzled his face against your back, the feeling of you wanting to escape his grip makes him drag you more into his embrace and a soft grunt leaves his throat when he finds himself unable to bury his face into your hair "where are you going, ma?" he asks, still more asleep than anything as jason still has his eyes closed.

"i need to get ready, love" the reply reaches him and even with that information jason refuses to let go of off you, his arms now wrapped around your hips as you try to get out of his bed, dragging with you the sheets for a whole second before you almost fall from the bed "jay, i really, really need to leave the bed..."

"but it's still dark, you can't leave yet... i want to sleep a little more and i want you here with me" the smile that reply steals goes missing for him, poor guy is still almost fully asleep but he clings onto you for dear life even knowing you probably have something to do during the day before he's able to hold you again "just one more hour. then you're free to go, angel"

"i need that hour to get ready, jaybird" you chuckle, shifting a little under his arm as you try to push it away from you and when you finally escape the death grip jason has on your body the lazy walk to the bathroom is filled with the guilt of leaving him all alone to get ready for something that wouldn't be as nice and warm as your lover's embrace. picking up your clothes and stuff to get ready you rethink and the final choice is clear as water, that much you don't even realize when you started to lift the comfy sheet to push jason a bit "you win... i'll stay here"

the fact that jason isn't fully awake makes his pretty smile even prettier because he scoots a little with his arms ready to hold you again and once you lay back on his bed he leans in to kiss your lips and almost as if sleepiness was contagious you found yourself kissing him back and ready to drift back into your dreams where just like in the waking, you'd stay into jason's arms. hiding your face against his neck, arms wrapped around his torso and one leg drapped over his hips it's nice and warm to feel his big hand caressing your thigh softly as his lips kiss tenderly your neck making you smile widely.

there's a sweet sense of intimacy on his touch and even if the tiredness washes over both of you, jason's hands are now holding your hips to press you against his body and between soft and tender kisses, his hands and yours start to pull off the little amount of clothes you used to sleep. his practiced hands run sweetly over your skin, undoing the clasp of your bra and taking it off while your hands pull up his shirt, fingers gently caressing his scars as he kissed a trail across your jaw.

"you're just so pretty..." jason's gruffy voice makes you shiver and under the sheets his body is pressed flush against you, his hands holding your waist as he rolls his hips against yours as if testing waters and there's nothing that would make you leave his side. not now, not ever.

"i love you so much, red..." you mutter against his chin, letting out a breathless moan when he's able to push into you, his movement is anything but hard. he takes his sweet time to settle between your inner walls, letting out a soft groan accompanied by a content smile when you wrap your arms around his neck to snuggle against him.

"love you too, ma" he whispers against your temple, he has his eyes closed as he enjoys the warmth you provide and he knows that even in the dark place his life is you're everything he will ever need. with a soft sigh he starts moving, slow strokes as he holds onto your hips while muttering sweet nothings into your ear.

the whole room is filled with the tenderness of the moment, silent gasps and soft moans as he held you as if you could break if he got too rough. your lips peppering his jaw and cheeks in soft kisses as he rolls his hips into you making your breath hitch everytime he hits that sweet spot and the chill of the morning feels like something so strange because your morning is sweet and warm while jason is by your side.

time seems to go by slower, lips swollen from the kissing to drown the soft grunts and to delay everything a little more until you feel jason's slow strokes faltering before he spills himself inside you, drawing a soft moan from your lips as your own release washed over you making your body clench around his in a delicious grip. the room is now filled with nothing besides the soft pants of your breathing, his hands caressing soothingly your waist as you nuzzled your face against his neck.

"can't you stay here today? i don't feel like letting go of my pretty princess" jason asks quietly, his voice is still a bit gruffy and he looks sleepy despite what you just did. it's impossible to leave him like this, shiny eyes and messy hair, looking happy finally because he had his little world into his arms.

[typing-catastrophe]

Charles Xavier - only one bed (headcanons)

request: "gmorning! with deadpool 3 bringing around the xmen renaissance ive found myself once again totally obsessed w james mcavoy and was wondering if i could req an only one bed charles xavier x reader piece please ! i feel like theres just so much to be done w that trope, the mutual pining, the fluster, the rushed confessions, and ive somehow never seen anymore pair it w charles yet ?? i trust your vision completely, thank you so much and have a lovely day!"

a/n: thank you so much for your request anon ^^ I am also working on a longer piece (actual oneshot, no bulletpoints), so stay tuned for that and in the mean time have this :P hope you like it

💕 fluff

oohhh the temptation

charles trying so hard not to give in and read your mind

he is just so goddamn curious as to know what you're thinking about your current situation

because he can feel you laying next to him all tensed up and it makes him nervous

you're both idiots in love with the other, have been for a while, and both to scared to make the first move

you're convinced he isn't interested in you at all, and are too scared to ruin the friendship to say anything

and he is convinced he would drive away the only friend he made asides from raven and would end up feeling much lonelier than before

he technically is confident enough but at the same time doesn't want to risk anything going wrong or making it awkward between the two of you

when it gets too much for him, he strikes up a conversation which would end up in you two laughing and finally being comfortable in each others space again

when you tell him that you're having a hard time falling asleep at new places, he would offer to tell you about his research, because it helps raven fall asleep

when you both eventually fall asleep, he unconsciously shifts over and holds you close

you stir awake from the movement next to you, already dozing off again when you feel an arm sneak over your stomach and an explosion of butterflies when charles pulls you close

(that man needs someone to cuddle at night and you can't convince me otherwise. he's a cuddler.)

now wide awake and heartbeat going faster by the second, you franticly try to think of what to do next

when you try to scoot away, you're not only met with resistance but with him pulling you back and nuzzling his nose into your neck and hair

you lay there in defeat for a few minutes, enough time for your heartbeat to settle again. then you decide to turn around in his arms

you use the opportunity to look at him his beautiful facial features, all relaxed and peaceful. you'd never allow yourself to stare at him like this, in fear of getting caught

when he started to wake up and blinking a few times, you know you should look away, but you're so captured by him that you can't bring yourself to do so

so you're laying face to face with him, only inches apart, holding your breath

"hey... can't sleep?" he asks with a soft tone and smile

you shake your head the tiniest bit and a stray lock of hair falls into your face

he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear and lets his hand linger

even without using his powers he is almost sure to know what you think in that moment

so he leans in closer and asks "may I?"

you whisper a breathless "please" and before you know it, he presses the softest kiss to your lips

you almost whine when he leans back again

"you look so beautiful, darling" and "forgive me, we should've done this a lot sooner"

you couldn't agree more

sleepy, soft kisses turn into more intense ones turn into makeout session

so much suppressed feelings resurfacing, you can't get enough of each other

when your shirt hitches up and his hand grazes your bare skin, you let out a small noise of surprise and jump a little at the sudden contact

charles moves his hand away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or do something you're not ready for, when you reach down and put his hand back, reassuring that it is okay for you

he doesn't mind at all if you don't want to go any further, he can't believe his luck of you reciprocating his feelings at all in the first place

if you do want to go further, that man will give you the best and softest, most loving time of your life

given that that would be your first time together, you would keep it simple and stick to getting to know each other and each others likes

first and foremost he would concentrate on making you feel good

[batsplat]

Wait what’s the tea on Valentino’s sleep patterns 👀👀 (fellow insomniac / recent motogp fan always looking for more representation)

oh yeah, if you're looking for representation for poor sleeping habits you've very much come to the right place. his sleep patterns are pretty remarkable you have to say. way too nocturnal for a professional athlete, reliant on naps to get through the race weekend, all power to him for somehow making that work and winning all those titles. pretty sure I've read somewhere that he's still known for doing sim races at ungodly hours these days, just how he lives his life

tbh I can't remember off the top of my head where I'd actually read about his sleeping patterns, but I've cobbled together a decent selection of quotes from the usual sources. the most interesting stuff he's said on the topic is in his autobiography - where he goes into rather a lot of detail about his preference for the night. given that it's quite a lengthy passage, I've chucked it under the cut. he frames his nocturnal inclination as not only suiting his natural body clock better, but also as a way of escaping the rest of the world - of being able to move around in peace and silence and anonymity. plus, he liked to spend his nights in the garage to... *pinches bridge of nose* have some special personal time with his bike, when it was just the two of them. take that as you will

before that, let's just start with a few more general descriptions of his sleeping patterns. from early in his career, jerez 1998 (from oxley's vr files):

The camper only holds two people, but that's okay. I don't like my dad to sleep with me, because when it gets to ten o'clock he starts saying: "Vale, Vale, got to bed!", but I can't go to sleep before one or two. We did share a motorhome in '96 and it made life very, very difficult for me.

and about brno 1999 (from oxley's vr files):

On weekends when I'm not racing, I never go to bed before six or seven on Sunday morning. If it's a party, maybe even later, but going to bed at six in the morning is quite normal for me! Even when I was 14 I used to go to bed at 4am. Quite often I'd be riding around the local minimoto tracks until after midnight! If I go to sleep at 11 or 12 I just lie there, my eyes wide open. Maybe I would be good for 24-hour racing!

and then a few years into his premier class career, valentino says the following (x):

'I have a lot of energy after 2am,' Rossi agreed. 'I like to sleep in the morning. I have some problems at the start of the day.'

we've also got a description of crew chief jb's influence in terms of making sure valentino wasn't slacking off by sleeping in (from oxley's vr files):

Burgess' talents aren't restricted to getting the best out of a 500. The Aussie has been in GPs for decades and knows how to extract the best from riders as well. He expects 100 per cent commitment both on the track and in the pits, and when he doesn't get that, he gives 'em hell. Some other crew chiefs won't do that - they're too overawed by their riders' superstardom. JB laid down the law last summer when late-sleeper Rossi turned up late for practice. Rossi suggested that in future one of the crew should be despatched to his motorhome each morning to make sure he was out of bed. No way, said Burgess, I'll be there to give you your wake-up call. Rossi's not overslept since.

and from 2001, in valentino's own words:

Q: Tell us about your sleeping habits, JB has had to wake you a few times for practice... VR: I never go to bed before 1 o'clock, and there's no limit on when I go to bed, but even when I go to sleep very late I always wake up at 8.30, though when I do wake up I always have a big confusion for the first five minutes, then after that I remember: "Oh fuck, I'm at world grand prix!" So I have a shower and then I'm okay. I never get up too close to riding time because the 500 is a dangerous bike so it's necessary to be awake when you climb aboard. Back in the afternoon after practice at four or five o'clock I'll sleep for another hour.

only semi-related but valentino's also talked about... you know, this generational shift - where the sport has become more professionalised, which is reflected in certain lifestyle changes (from barker's rossi biography):

"The next generation is always stronger. They are more professional, they put more effort in, they make a perfect life, they eat in a good way, they don't drink, they go to sleep early, they train every day from the morning to the night... I come from an era where the riders drank beer and smoked cigarettes!"

also plenty of talk of jet lag obviously... doesn't struggle with it too much headed westwards because he says he basically lives on american time anyway. the other direction is tougher, but in his youth he decided that he might as well try to continue living on italian time. so he essentially went racing at 5 in the morning (about phillip island 1998, from oxley's vr files):

I don't have a problem with jet lag, I always sleep. Last year in Indonesia I stayed on Italian time for the whole grand prix - so I was racing at five in the morning! But the difference is too great to do that in Australia.

how on earth are you racing motorcycles like that. mind you, he won that 1997 indonesia race

so yeah. king of disordered sleeping. given the nature of motogp schedules and how they do kind of require you to actually get up in the mornings, congrats to him for being remotely functional during race weekends. crazy how he even won the odd race

and here's the autobiography passage:

My day, usually, begins in the afternoon. It’s as if I exist inside my own personal time zone. I live at night, because I love the night. Now, this might make you think I do goodness-knows-what in the wee hours, or that I don’t live the life of a professional athlete. It’s true, I don’t live the life of an athlete in the traditional sense — early to bed, early to rise and all that — but this does not mean that I’m not careful about what I eat and drink or that I don’t train. In fact, I train a lot, both in the gym and on the bike. It’s just that I go to the gym in the afternoon, rather than the morning. Equally, when I’m training on the bike, down at the quarry, I always go in the afternoon, never at nine o'clock in the morning. My body has a certain type of metabolism. It is used to living according to a different body clock. That’s why, even if I’m travelling all over the world, I don’t experience jet lag and I rarely go to bed before 3 a.m. It’s much more likely that I’m just tucking into bed as people are leaving for work. As I say, I have a special relationship with the night. I like moving in it, living in it, thinking in it, relaxing in it. The night fascinates me, because it’s the period of least confusion. The world calms down, it goes quiet. And, besides, I’m Valentino Rossi. I’m wanted... I'm a fugitive. Yes, I’m always running away from my _ beloved countrymen. The Italians. I’m proud to be Italian, I'm proud of our merits and I regret our shortcomings. Italians are exceptional people. In every way. Even when they start loving you. Because that’s actually when problems can arise — if it’s you that the Italian falls in love with. Italian people are warm, empathetic, spontaneous. But they can also be excessive, oppressive and disrespectful. I don’t know who said that Italians will forgive everything except for success. Whoever it was, they were right. Because it’s absolutely true. After the 1997 season, I could tell I was becoming popular. Year after year, that popularity turned into fully fledged love. They’re in love with me now and, as a result, since the 2004 season, I’ve been a man on the run. And there’s no escape, no end in sight, because wherever I go they find me. There are simple things, the little pleasures in life, which I simply can’t engage in when I’m back in Italy. I can’t go to the bar and have a cappuccino, because I would not be able to drink it. To be fair, I can do it in Tavullia, but that's the only place. If I go more than a few kilometres in any direction from the centre of town, that's it, everything changes and I become, once again, a hunted man. I can’t walk into a store, look at something and decide what I want to buy. In fact, I can’t stop anywhere, not even at a petrol station. If I stop, I’m screwed. Somebody will recognise me (Italians are exceptionally good at recognising people), make a lot of noise, call other people and then, before I know it, I’ve been swallowed up by the crowd. If I schedule a meeting with someone, we have to meet in a secret, out-of-the-way location and, even then, we can't linger. I can't go to a restaurant if there are too many people inside. And if I do go, I can't go at a normal time, say eight o'clock. I have to go later, much later, when people are leaving. And I can't sit where I like, I have to hide away in a corner, in the shadows. As for places like cinemas or the beach, forget about it. They are just always off-limits.

Having said that, I do mix with people. I do it because I like doing it. It’s just that I wish I could do it as a normal person, because, deep down, I am a normal human being. This is part of the reason why I have to live at night. It would be that much tougher during the day, with all those people about. Plus, I don’t like the traffic, the chaos, the noise, all those people running all over the place, stressed out and out of breath. The night is different. Everything is softer, there are fewer people around and you are much more free. It’s like a parallel dimension. The world is different at night. Everything is different. That’s why I’ve assimilated the lyrics of a song by the Italian artist Jovanotti, “Gente. della notte” (“People of the night”). It has become my personal anthem. Jovanotti is one of my favourite singers and I find myself agreeing with him on most things. I love his work. What else can I say? The night is my reality. And I don’t change just because Grands Prix are scheduled during the day. My way of being and living is reflected in what I do during races. I don’t really change. Obviously, I don’t go to bed at dawn, but let’s just say that when I do, finally, go to bed, there aren’t many people around. Everything is better at night in the paddock. There is silence, the people _ have disappeared and, with them, the chaos. I can wander around freely, most of all I can enjoy the empty pit area and my bike. Yes, my bike. Because at night I often slip into the team garage. At some races I do it every single night, because I love being with my bike. My night-time activities can be traced back to the years racing in 125cc, and are directly tied to my passion for aesthetics and the stickers, which would later become my obsession. I don’t leave anything to chance'when it comes to choosing the colour or the stickers for my bike. That’s why I’ve always been central to any and all discussions when we were deciding the aesthetics of my racing bikes. I’ve done it always, with every bike, at every level, with every team. And, naturally, I still do it today. Nobody has ever been allowed to attach a single sticker to my bike, unless it was the logo of a technical sponsor. Until a few years ago I was totally inflexible about this. Now, Roby takes care of the number: he attaches it because then he needs to cover it in transparent paint. But apart - from -this, which is primarily a technical procedure anyway, I take care of everything else to do with the stickers. And this takes time and planning, which is why I started going to the garage at night. During the day it is packed with people. There are mechanics, technicians and others around. I would just get in the way, if I wanted to get near the bike just to check the stickers. As I got older and progressed from 125 to 250 and then to 500 and on to MotoGP, I maintained that passion for aesthetics and stickers, as well as the habit of dropping in on the team garage at night. I enjoy the bike during the day _ obviously, but my relationship with the bike is so special that I can spend hours with it, just looking and admiring it, making sure that everything is in order. Those are very personal moments which I find difficult to describe. The Japanese guys, both the executives but also the engineers never knew this, not the guys at Honda, not the ones at Yamaha. I don’t think they would really understand. They would probably view it as a waste of time, since I don’t actually do anything concrete. I never touch anything to do with the bike itself, beyond, obviously, the stickers. And yet I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. It’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy.

During the day everything happens so quickly, frenetically, neurotically. However, there is a sacrosanct moment when I need to step away and isolate myself. Once my commitment to the team is over, usually around 5.30 p.m., I retire to my motorhome, relax and take a nap. It usually lasts a couple hours and then I go out. There’s always something to do after dinner. Of course, the range of options depends on how many friends are around. I really start enjoying the paddock around ten o'clock at night. Before going to sleep I check on the bike again and then I go into the team motorhome, which serves as an office. Now that I’m at Yamaha, I have an office all to myself. That’s where I keep all my race gear. I do this for two reasons. My own personal motorhome is an absolute mess, nothing more fits in there and I probably couldn’t find anything amid all the junk. Plus, the office is where I change into my racing suit before going out on to the track. Thus, at night, after going to the pits to see the bike, I go to make sure that all my stuff is where it should be: gloves, suit, socks, boots . . . everything needs to be perfect, because I just don’t have time in the morning to hunt around for stuff. Thus, each morning I have to follow a very precise routine. I’m like a robot, everything is the same each day. Because the truth is that I need to be like clockwork. I just don’t have the time to think. Somebody generally comes to wake me up — usually it’s Jeremy, because he doesn’t trust my ability to wake up on my own! I then get up, wash my face (my eyes are still shut at this point) and try to stay awake as I ride the scooter from the motorhome to the pits. I then go up to the office and get dressed. There too everything is done mechanically. It takes the slightest hiccup to throw everything off, forcing me to be late to the testing.

"I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. it’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy" well -

[wonwoonlight]

when mingyu takes jungkook's advice but forgets about one (1) thing

fluff // idol!au // mingyu is dumb in love // sex implied but this drabble is nothing but fluff!!!!!

It's three in the morning when Mingyu turns on the live.

He's still high on adrenaline for some reason; the whole day has been great and not one single thing went wrong even though some schedules got him worried at first. His meals were all exactly to his liking, his exercise went like a breeze, and he got to see you.

Perhaps the last one is what makes him so high. After all, it's been a little over a month since he saw you and finally being able to see you and feel you... gosh it was the closest feeling he would describe as euphoric.

You're currently sleeping in his room, blisfully unaware that your boyfriend has turned on his live just one room away.

"Hi." He grins and waves at the camera. "If you remember I told you some time ago that I'd start listening to a certain senior... here I am."

He fixes his hoodie over his head, happy that the fans seem happy with his wardrobe: a grey sleeveless hoodie with nothing underneath.

"I look like your boyfriend?" His grins widen, his mind flying to you. "Your boyfriend must be very handsome then."

"Hmmm, why do I look happy when it's 3 in the morning? Why? Am I not allowed to be happy at this hour?" He comes closer to his screen to look at the comments. "I'm not drunk! But I might’ve had a liiiiittle bit of alcohol earlier."

The live continues on like that, and between all the crazy things he's seen Jungkook did, he's starting to see why the guy is fond of doing lives at this hour. As an idol, he's usually wide awake at ungodly hours, and even though he knew the company and Seungcheol would have his head tomorrow, he can't be bothered to care at this moment.

He's blaming it on the alcohol too. But by the time he even remotely considers something might go very wrong, he's having too much fun with his fans and he's way too drunk on the happy feeling from everything that has happened during the past 24 hours.

"It's okay. If I get scolded then I get scolded." He addresses the fans' concerns. "They probably won't reupload this so consider this a present for all of you here, okay? Let's have fun while we're at it."

"Mmmmh. Is there nothing fun? Tell me something fun." He frowns as he squints at his screen, trying to read through the comments.

"What I'm wearing underneath this?" He grins teasingly and tugs the neck of his hoodie. "What do you think?"

It's seconds later that the comment section goes crazy, and he blinks in confusion, trying to see why people are screaming. It doesn't help that no one gives him any context until he finally catches one single comment that gets his heart beating so loud he can hear it on his ears.

Was that hickey on your collarbone???

He continues to play stupid, answers some questions that he made up in his mind while pretending to look for one in the comment sections, stays on live for another five minutes before he says he's starting to get sleepy so he needs to go.

He stares into space for a good ten minutes after he turns off the live.

He's fucked.

He's so fucked.

How the fuck is he going to explain this to the company and all of his members tomorrow? At least he's actually been considering going public with you for quite some time, have talked about it with his members and the company also, but this isn't how he imagined it would be.

Biting his lip, he's too lost in his thoughts to realize you've stepped out of your room, looking a little lost also, wondering why he's in the living room.

"Why are you not in bed?" You ask adorably, rubbing your eyes as you plop on the sofa besides him. "And why is your phone propped like that?"

His arm wraps around you and pulls you to his chest, already imagining not having to hide you away anymore after whatever hurricane that will pass tomorrow.

But.

First thing first.

"Babe." He squeezes your shoulder, already feeling sorry at your sleepy hum because he's sure you won't be sleepy after this. But whatever, imagining his future self showing you off to everyone is going to be worth it.

He grins when you look up in confusion, the dangerous grin that you know is up for trouble.

"We might have a problem. "

[anangelwhodidntfall]

Weighted Blanket: Simon Riley 

Call Of Duty Masterlist

word count: 840

description: Simon becomes your personal weighted blanket

Simon was wide awake as he usually was since he didn't sleep much, but for him to see you awake at this hour had him concerned. He walked into the kitchen planning to make some tea when he saw you curled up on the couch reading a book with your headphones in until you guys locked eyes. You watched him walk into the kitchen and heard him start making tea, so you pulled off your headphones and marked your book already knowing he was gonna question you on why you're awake. A few minutes later, he walks in and with two cups handing you one, before taking a seat on the table that was in front of the couch. 

"Thank you." You said as he handed you a cup.

"Why are you up sunshine? It's 2 in the morning, you should be sleeping." He said as he took a sip of drink. 

"I couldn't sleep. I thought maybe if I read some it would help me fall asleep but it hasn't." You said looking at him. 

"Why can't you sleep? Usually at any given point of the day, you can be found napping." He asked concerned. 

You smiled a bit knowing it was true that at any point of the day no matter what you were doing or who you were with which was mostly Simon, you could be found napping which heard you the nickname sleepy. But now you were scared to admit to Simon of all people that you couldn't sleep all because you didn't have your weighted blanket which helped you sleep. 

"Sunshine?" He asked snapping you out of your thoughts. 

"It's stupid really." You said shaking your head until you felt him place his hands on yours. 

"It's not stupid if it concerns you. Please tell me?" He asked as his brown eyes stared into yours like they would reveal something. 

"I usually sleep with a weighted blanket and I have to order a new one since the one I was used ripped." You said. 

Simon nodded he knew why people used weighted blankets but didn't question you further of why you slept with one. He also knew that more than not especially on long missions, you fell asleep on him and could sleep next to him with ease, which gave him an idea. 

"You could sleep with me, like share a bed with me unless you are uncomfortable." He said as you stared at him. 

"Si...I couldn't possibly do that." You said knowing that he wasn't a touchy person. 

"I know how hard it is Sunshine to not be able to sleep, plus I wouldn't have offered if I was uncomfortable." He said. 

"Are you Simon?" You asked him. 

"I'm sure, plus I think all those times you fall asleep on me should account for something." He said with a smile.

"Okay I'm willing to try as long as you promise to tell me if you become uncomfortable at all." You said as the two of you stood up. 

"I could never be uncomfortable with you Sunshine." He said as you two headed to your room. 

You set your stuff on your nightstand, before climbing into your bed watching as Simon climbed into his spot before gently wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to him. You two made small talk while you started to feel yourself get sleepy. 

"Get some rest love, I'm not going anywhere." He said rubbing his hand up and down your back. 

"Thank you Simon for taking care of me." You said before sleep over came you. 

"I'll always care for you Sunshine." He said with a small smile watching as your breathing evened out. 

*BONUS*

A few days later you came back from a meeting with Price and found a box sitting on your bed making you a little confused since you didn't order anything. You opened the box and saw a weighted blanket with skulls all over it which made you smile having a feeling you knew who it was from until a note fell at your feet. 

"Figured you should have one in case im not with you, but I won't say no to being your weighted blanket again. Anytime you need sleep whether you have this or not, you know where to find me." -Simon. 

You were still smiling from reading his note that you almost didn't hear him come in until he spoke.

"So did I do good? I've never bought one before and there's so many options for these things now." He said. 

You set the note and blanket on the bed before turning and wrapping your arms around him before placing a kiss on his clothed cheek. 

"It's perfect, thank you Simon." You said looking at him with a smile.

Simon was thankful he had his mask on and that you couldn't see how much your simple act had affected him. He felt his cheeks grow warm and swore he never wash his mask again after you kissed his cheek. 

[jeonbunnie]

promises

pairing: reader x namjoon

summary: marriage life with namjoon hasn’t been the same lately. he’s been cold and distant, always whispering on the phone. and you can’t help but notice…

genre: angst

content/warnings: established relationship; married!au; idol!namjoon; cheating/infidelity; implied sex; eventual smut; explicit sex

soundtrack: lemonade by beyoncé

a/n: this used to be a series but I decided to rework it into a oneshot. The plot is mostly the same, however now the reader gets to choose the big decision at the end (kind of like a choose your own adventure).

word count: 18k

Pray you catch me

♪ you can taste the dishonesty/ it's all over your breath, as you pass it off so cavalier. but even that's a test/constantly aware of it all/my lonely ear/pressed against the walls of your world. ♪

. . .

Something is wrong.

You don’t know how or when things changed, but something shifted between the two of you. There is a distance now, more tangible than the miles that separate you from him when he’s on business trips. Farther than the long-distance phone calls that became less and less frequent. Even now, as you lay in the same bed with him only a few feet away you can tell.

Something is wrong.

Because you can’t remember a time when you and Namjoon had ever been so far apart.

He would always come home late at night. Languid footsteps trailing towards the bedroom. Eyes tired and red from too many hours spent awake working on the newest album. Gravity pulled him down in a slump that could only be from the heaviness of leadership, from carrying the weight of the entire group.

And though he was exhausted, he would still find a way to come and take care of you. Even dead-tired, his warm brown eyes would light up and his lips would curl at the sight of you. He’d make his way over and pull you close, until your bodies became an entangled mess of arms and legs, chests pressed together as you curled into each other's warmth. His fingers would run soothingly through your hair and he’d ask you how your day went. The moments you spent within his arms seemed to make even the bad days good.

But it's been a long time since your husband held you close and melted away your bad days.

The clock on your nightstand reads 1:23 AM in angry red letters when his phone goes off in the middle of the night. You can hear the sheets rustle and feel whatever is left of his presence slip away as he sits up, answering on the second ring. “Hello?” Before you can even stop yourself the words are flying out of your mouth. “Who is it?”

The woman who speaks sounds nothing like you. Her voice is broken and fragile, spiked with worry and fear. He shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes because, “It’s just Yoongi.” The lie rolls off his tongue effortlessly. You are already hurting and the way he brushes you off tears right through you.

It’s not Yoongi. You know better. Your husband’s best friend loves his sleep and would never stir in the middle of the night. You want to confront him, put all your thoughts out in the open but before you can even gather the courage, he stands up, makes his way across the room and closes the door behind him, leaving you alone.

Again.

Somehow you can’t decide what’s more unsettling: the loneliness you feel when your husband leaves or the loneliness you feel when he’s around.

You are too unnerved to go back to sleep. Not that you are sleeping anyways. Now that you are truly awake to the situation before you, sleep does not come. You’ve been staying up for days, eyes wide open. But it was more than just insomnia. Your mind is awake with all the possibilities, visualizing every single scenario. You can’t close your eyes because in an instant you are there. Thinking about it all over again. You can't ignore it, nor pretend not to see it. You are not blind anymore. And so sleep does not come.

With every nerve on edge you throw back the covers and swing your legs out of bed. You can’t just lay there trapped within your own mind. You need a distraction—any distraction from the truth. Even if the only release you can find is putting your body into motion. You find yourself pacing back and forth, frazzled energy bouncing from one point to another.

Until you hear him laugh. It’s a deep and throaty noise that breaks through the walls and interrupts your racing thoughts. You find yourself tiptoeing closer to the sound, trying to be as quiet as you possibly can so you can creep up and press your ear up against the door to listen. How desperate you are, eavesdropping like this. You feel ashamed for sinking this low, but that shame does not stop you from wondering if you should get the glass from your nightstand so you can hear him better. If you could only hear what he was saying! But the words are muffled, like he’s talking underwater.

He used to talk to you all the time, share his innermost thoughts, his nightmares, his dreams. Talk to you about everything and nothing. Work and play. Past and present. But now, nothing.

Now all you got were glimpses of his world.

You used to be his world.

The realization leaves you cold and you press yourself closer to the light trickling through the cracked door. You can see him now. His back is turned towards you and he’s hunched over, phone clutched to his ear like he’s trying to keep all his secrets from spilling out of it. In that moment, you pray he will turn around so you can read his lips and decode whatever it is he’s whispering huskily into the receiver. You pray he will turn around and catch you. You wonder what he will do. Will he jump? Will he be angry?

Ironically, out of all the times you’ve prayed for God to answer you during your marriage, this is the prayer God answers because it happens. He turns around.

You expect to see the face of a cruel man. You could not have prepared yourself for what you do see. Because when he finally turns around, it’s not the face of a monster, but the face of your first love. Namjoon is smiling. Smiling. This is the moment your heart breaks. When was the last time he smiled at you like that? Pink lips pulled back, pearly whites gleaming. Dimples flashing in his cheeks. The way his eyes squint into tiny crescent moons.

When was the last time he smiled at you like that? You can’t remember. Your mind flickers through the memories filed in your head, though each image never seems to be quite right. Maybe because they are now clouded with suspicion. Was that last smile real? Or merely a mask?

The fact that you can’t be sure made you anxious. You can’t tell the difference because you didn’t know him anymore. Where was the man you loved? This person you do not recognize. His eyes are dark, lit with the desire you once thought was only reserved for you. You watch as his lips curl from a smile into a wicked grin.

Something is wrong.

You tried to fix it. The problem. You. It had you be you, didn’t it? Maybe he wanted someone more gentle. You tried to be meek, mild, and kind. Soft spoken, as you were always previously so assertive. You didn’t want to chase him off with harsh words or accusations. You wanted to be what he wanted. You thought that maybe he wanted someone sexy, so you tried to be that too. You made your eyes smokey and put on red dresses, even though you hated the color red. You wanted to be enough. You tried everything to get his attention, but it made no difference. You still ended up in this exact moment.

A sigh slips past your lips, almost a whimper. It’s the sound of loss.

This is when he sees you.

His smile disappears. Then he walks forward and closes the door in your face, shutting out the light and leaving you in darkness.

. . .

When he comes back to bed—wearing a scent that is distinctly not yours—it’s 5AM. He kisses your forehead and climbs underneath the sheets, yet the distance between you remains. Maybe you already know the answer to the questions that keep swirling in your mind. You don't want to believe that he broke his vows. But that hope does not stop the doubt you feel every time you look at his face.

Are you cheating on me?

Don’t Hurt Yourself

♪ I am the dragon breathing fire. Beautiful man I’m the lion Beautiful man I know you’re lying…. ♪

. . .

It is quiet in your house. The sun and it’s warm amber glow have long since disappeared, fading into black. The stillness is unusual. Normally you hate such things, always needing some sort of noise playing in the background like the tv or the radio while you clean up and do work, but not today. You need the silence so you can collect your thoughts and prepare yourself for what you are about to do.

You are done being passive. Sick and tired of sitting and waiting around for a man who did not so much as blink an eye at you. You are done crying. You already cried so much. All your tears have dried up and gone away. You can’t bring yourself to be sad anymore. There isn’t any room for you to hold inside two emotions. Especially when all you can feel now is anger.

You are mad as hell.

So you came home from work and sat down on the couch, waiting on him for one last time. Head held high, poised and collected. Muscles coiled and ready to pounce.

Just like clockwork, keys slide into the door and Namjoon comes in at a quarter to three, completely unaware of the situation he just stepped into. Looking up he stops, surprised to find you sitting in the living room. He can feel something is off. Sense it in your body language, see the difference in your eyes. For a minute, he wonders if you know what he’s been doing all night long...but that’s impossible right? How could you possibly know?

But you did know.

You watched nonchalantly as he flashed a casual grin your way. “Hey babe...what are you doing up so late?“ You didn’t respond right away, taking the time to examine him closely before you decide to speak.

“Where were you tonight?”

The second the words leave your mouth there’s a shift in the atmosphere. Thick silence fills the space between you, but your eyes never leave him. You see him blink, catch the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows down a gulp, note a flicker of emotion pass in his face too brief to figure out the expression. Was that fear? Was he nervous?

But then he laughs. It’s almost a scoff as his eyebrows pull together he shakes his head in what masks as confusion. “What?”

“I know you heard me Namjoon, I’m not going to ask you again.”

“What are you talking about? I was with the guys tonight, we—”

“Don’t,” you stop him, holding up a hand. ”Don’t do that. Don’t lie to my face. I am so tired of you lying to me, please for once just be honest.”

He doesn’t say a word, only sighs and runs his fingers through silver locks and as unsatisfactory as it is, you realize this action is the closest you’ll ever get to a confession. But it’s not enough. Your hands come up to rest on your face almost like prayer before you ask your next question.

“Did you sleep with her?”

“God (Y/N), are we really doing this right now?”

Anger presses up against your chest and before you know it, you’re on your feet. “Yes, Namjoon, we are really doing this right now. Because I can’t stand one more minute of this fake marriage. I’m not stupid. I see you! And I’m not going to pretend like I don’t anymore.”

“Fine. Fine! What do you want me to say, huh? What do you want?”

“I want the truth!”

He fixes his gaze, eyes locked on you. “Oh, you want the truth? Ok here’s the truth. Yes, I was with her tonight, and yes I fucked her, and it was the best goddamn fuck I’ve had in months. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?”

His words hit you like a bullet to the heart. No, you weren’t happy. You wanted his candor but not this. His tone...the way he was talking to you...You almost couldn’t believe it. How could he? The man you called your husband would never so much as raise his voice towards you. Yet here he was, spitting out cruelty. The brutality of his words mixed with his contempt was too much. Your nails dug into the couch as you tried to steady yourself, tried to push through the pain.

Your mind was swimming with information, trying to come to terms with the new knowledge but one question still lingered. You had to ask:

“Why?”

“Fuck, why? I’m on tour all the time, It’s not like you’re around?”

Are you kidding me?

Whatever pain you felt quickly turned to anger and you whipped around to face him.

“Who the fuck do you think I am Namjoon?! You didn’t marry one of your little groupies. I have a job and a life! I can’t just drop everything and follow you around the world like some love-sick puppy!”

“Yeah well, maybe if you did I wouldn’t have needed to find someone else.”

The nerve of this man!

“So you want my entire world to revolve around you? You are so selfish! As if I don’t already do everything for you. I cook, when you come home at night there’s dinner on the table. I keep this house spotless, but it’s not like you’re even here to notice--”

“I’m not here cuz I’m too busy working the job that got you this house in the first place!”

“Wow. So it’s ok for you to be away from me on your job, but if I can’t be there for you then I’m the problem?” You stared him in the face, only to be met with a glare to rival your own.

“You’re a real piece of work Namjoon.”

How is it that he could look at your relationship and see only your flaws, but never his own? You should have known better than to put all your faith in a man with a god-complex. He only ever cared about himself and his own career. All he had were excuses. You started to walk away from him when his next words stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re so perfect. It’s not like you haven’t done it.”

You cast an incredulous look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”

Just what is he trying to imply?

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Now who’s playing dumb. I’m not stupid either, I know you’re seeing him behind my back.”

This again? “How many times do I have to tell you, Jackson is just a friend.”

“You’re a fucking liar. He doesn’t look at you like ‘just a friend’, I know you slept with him.”

Now you were furious. You took several steps towards him till you were so close you could feel his heated breath on your face. “Let’s not get it twisted, I’m not the cheater—You are!” you said, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You don’t get to put this on me! You and I both know I’m not the one who’s unfaithful!”

By the end of your sentence you found yourself out of breath, panting. You were shouting the entire time. Unable to keep the fire inside; your fury, abated. You looked at your husband, finally eye to eye and sighed.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” You spoke, your voice coming out much softer than either of you had expected. “I wouldn't do anything to disrespect you like the way you disrespect me.”

Once again silence swelled within the room and all you could do was look at him and wonder how you had ended up here. The two of you never used to fight, not like this. It was never this bad. But things were different now.

“W-why did you do this to me? To us?” On your wedding day you both took vows to be united as one in this relationship. He was hurting himself just as much as he was hurting you but he was so wrapped up in his own pride that he couldn't see it.

“Are you even sorry?”

Namjoon didn't say a word.

You closed your eyes and counted to ten, trying to find some kind of peace. But by the time you finished counting your anger still hadn't subsided. You couldn't find peace because there was no peace here.

Everything in this relationship was so, so hard. You couldn't pick up the broken shards of your relationship all by yourself and he wasn't even trying to fix it.

“I can't—I can't do this anymore”

Namjoon narrowed his eyes. “Can't do what anymore?”

“This!” You yelled, throwing your arms out.

“You. Me. Us. I can’t do it anymore and I don't want to.”

And with that you spun on your heel making a direct line for the bedroom. You could hear him follow behind you, but you didn't care. Your mind was focusing on something else now.

All you cared about was getting the hell out of there. You went into the closet and pulled out an overnight bag, snatching clothes off hangers and stuffing them inside.

“What are you doing?”

You had to laugh at his question. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m leaving you.”

You didn’t stop packing. After taking out enough clothes you grabbed your bag and walked out of the closet. On your way you caught a glimpse of Namjoon with a blank expression on his face.

“Don’t tell me you're actually surprised?”

Brushing past him, you made your way to the bathroom. “I was so blindly in love with you that even when I knew—I knew what you were doing, I tried to stay. But I deserve better. I deserve so much more than you.”

After gathering the rest of your stuff you turn around to walk out the door only to find Namjoon leaning against the frame. Taking in his image made your steps falter.

He looked strong and athletic in a white muscle tee. His arms were crossed over his chest, a gesture built out of displeasure, but only served to highlight the curve of his biceps. When you finally tore your eyes away from his body and up to look at his face, you sighed. He was clenching his jaw, showing off all his angles while his lips pushed out into the perfect pout. His eyes as always were dark, intense, and fixed on you.

Well, not always fixed on you.

He was so beautiful and you hated him for it. Or rather how he made you feel. He could still make your heart skip a beat even as it was breaking.

Yes, you still loved him. But clearly his love for you didn’t run quite as deep.

“So what now? You want a divorce? You signed the prenup. You're not going to get any money out of me.” He growled, voice deep and raspy.

There he goes again, always so damn arrogant…..His words served as a reminder. This is why you had to go. You broke eye contact, concentrating on zipping up your bag. “You can keep your money. I’ve got my own, and I can take care of myself.”

You crossed in front of him, swiftly taking a pair shoes then sitting on the bed to put them on. It dawned on you that he didn’t even ask you to stay. But then again, although it hurt to make this decision, you didn’t have to blink away any tears.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

You laced up your shoes, pulling the strings tight. “I don’t know.” You snapped. “Since you seem to think all I do is sneak around behind your back, maybe I’ll go see Jackson. Or maybe I’ll go out and find me another man. All I know is, I’m never coming back to you. I can promise you that.”

You weren’t playing nice but you were honestly so done with his attitude, mistreatment, and all the pain he caused you. Confident in your decision, you got your bag and stood up, striding towards the exit.

“Hey!”

You ignored him.

“Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you!”

“Kiss my ass, Namjoon!” You sassed, walking out the door and out of his life.

Resentment

♪ I may never understand why. I’m doing the best that I can. And I tried, and I tried to forget this. But I’m much too full of resentment…

. . .

Kim Namjoon knew you would probably leave him if you found out about his affair.

You weren’t the type of woman to let yourself be walked all over, and honestly he was surprised you’d let him get away with it for so long. For months you put up with the late night calls, the sneaking around, the constant lies...And he watched the light dim in your eyes as he broke his vows. It wasn’t like he wanted to cheat on you—not at first.

But anytime he was away from you on tour he just got so lonely.

Sure he had his bandmates and his fans but when the stage lights turned off and the cheers died down none of that was enough to keep him going. Whenever he got by himself it’s like the floodgates opened up. And all the pressure, the high expectations, the push for success, the hate, all of it came washing over him.

And Namjoon felt like he was drowning in it.

As much as he wanted to tell you what ailed him, he didn’t wanna put you under any more stress. You were already constantly worrying about his welfare, filled to the brim with your own concerns. He didn’t think it fair to make you shoulder his burdens as well. But holding all his feelings inside only made things worse.

The helplessness, the anxiety...he just wanted to make it go away. Even if only for a moment. And that’s all it was. A moment of weakness.

The first time it happened he regretted it immediately. He stayed up the whole night, staring at the ceiling, consumed by his guilt. It was the biggest mistake he had ever made. He planned to go home and just come clean, tell you everything that happened. Then beg and beg for your forgiveness.

All he could do on the plane ride back home was pray to God you would somehow take him back.

But then he saw your face. The bright smile you gave him when he walked in the door and heard the joy in your voice as you greeted him. Felt your love as you curled into his embrace, nudged your head in the crook of his neck and whispered “I missed you so much”.

How could he tell you the truth then? How could he tell you what he had done, that he’d broken his promise and given himself to another? He wasn’t even on stage, yet here you were, looking at him with stars in your eyes. You were the only person who truly knew him, flaws included, and despite it all you still loved him.

He couldn’t watch the love and devotion in your eyes turn to hatred and disgust. He couldn’t cope with the reality of the situation. The fact that your heart might close to him forever, that you might leave him.

And then he’d really be alone.

No, that couldn’t happen. If you left..? At the time, he hadn’t wanted to even think about it. So instead of doing the right thing and being honest he closed himself off. If only to keep himself from breaking down. Everytime he looked at you he felt ashamed of his actions. It didn’t feel right, lying to you. Maintaining a distance was the only way he could keep his secret a secret.

The second time it happened, it wasn’t a mistake. A mistake repeated more than once is a decision. And when temptation swept by, manifesting itself in long legs and a warm body to hold at night, Namjoon couldn’t resist.

The guilt hit him just as hard, if not harder than the last time. If he had to face you in that moment without a doubt he would have spilled out all the ugly truth. But it didn’t happen that way. He was on tour for an even longer time than usual, and the separation gave him more than enough time to compose himself, to bury the guilt far enough where it would not resurface. But in doing so he had to become a different person to you. Hard. Cold to the touch.

It affected him as much as it affected you. With every shrug and look of indifference, every evasion he could feel himself slipping further and further away from the man he wanted to be, from the man that you deserved.

And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

The third time it happened, you knew. Even now he couldn’t figure out what tipped you off. He knew there wasn’t any lipstick on his cheek or lingering perfume (Namjoon was stupid for cheating, but he wasn’t that stupid). Nothing tangible to hold your suspicion but you felt it. You questioned him, asking things like ‘what’s wrong?’ and ‘did something happen tonight?’, each inquiry only put him on edge and he snapped at you, starting a fight to distract you from the truth.

That night he left home, seeking comfort in the arms of the first girl he cheated with. He crossed a line that night. He knew he shouldn’t have met with her. But she already put her number in his phone and he was too much of a coward to be left alone with his thoughts in a hotel room. But in doing so he opened up pandora's box. He lay in her bed as she stroked his ego, telling him how important he was, how much better he deserved.

And soon enough he started to believe it. That he was better than you and that you were somehow, not enough for him. His superiority somehow justified him stepping outside his marriage. He found himself faultless, thinking it was your job to keep his interest and if he wasn’t happy, it was only his right to seek out happiness elsewhere.

But now, sitting alone in this dark house, all Namjoon could see was how wrong he was. So very, very wrong.

Months. You’ve been gone for months now. At first, he barely missed you. He didn’t have to. The very next day he had to fly out to Tokyo for a concert and he went back to his regular routine. Practice. Performing. Parties. The occasional girl to keep him satisfied. He didn’t need you then. And why would he? When he had all the people surrounding him, screaming his name. Singing his praises. He had no need to miss you until he went home. And that's when reality sunk in.

He came home to more than just an empty house. As the days rolled by he came to realize just how much you took care of him. Not just as a homemaker but as a mate. You were his heart, the sun and moon, his entire world. Namjoon could have killed the man who said you don’t know what you have until it’s gone because as cliché as it was, the expression couldn’t have been more accurate and the truth stabbed him like a knife.

The loneliness he felt when without you was ten times worse than when he was with you.

Your presence had a bigger impact on him than he could have imagined. Something about your ambience was instantly calming. Even if you weren’t doing anything together, whether it be just sitting on the couch or laying in bed beside him your being there gave him peace.

He tried to fill the void, find your image in the millions of girls that threw themselves at him, the women he led to his bed deep within the night. But there was no recreating you.

Namjoon hadn’t known peace since the day you left.

If it was possible he was even more restless than before. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had a full night's sleep. It had to be retribution for all the nights he kept you awake with the creeping thoughts of his betrayal. You, the love of his life, who he took for granted.

He ruined the best thing that ever happened to him, for his own selfish desires.

All because he lied.

And now all he wanted was a chance to get you back.

He pulled out his cell phone, trying to reach you again. He couldn’t keep track of all the times he called your phone, only to be met with your voicemail.

When he watched you walk out that door…a part of him hadn’t really recognized it as real. He was too full of himself to see it happening. His ego told him you’d be back, that you wouldn’t—couldn’t—really leave him. You’d cool off for a couple of days, then come back and try to make things work because that’s the type of person that you were.

He knew you were strong. Strong enough to move past his mistakes. He just didn’t know you were strong enough to move past him entirely.

Namjoon runs a hand across his face, dials your number, and prays. He’s not necessarily sure who or what he’s praying to, but he could really use a miracle right now. Because that’s what it would take for you to actually pick up the phone.

“(Y/n) please, please pick up.”

The phone rings once, twice, three times and then—

"We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

He hangs up, angry.

He doesn’t have the right to be angry, that much he knows. Mercy and grace from the woman he scorned is far too much to ask for, but he needs you, and he’s desperate, so he’s asking anyway.

Namjoon foolishly made the mistake of thinking that you couldn't live without him. But it was he who was the one who couldn’t live without you.

So he’ll keep calling. Even if it only goes to voicemail. He’ll keep leaving message after message after message.

Whatever it takes.

…

♪ I may never understand why. I'm doing the best that I can. And I tried, and I tried to forget this. But I'm much too full of resentment...♪

…

You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing. You didn’t have to check caller ID to know who was on the other side of that line. Annoyed, you sighed and rolled over onto your side. Curling up into the couch, you choose the warmth and sweet bliss of sleep over another argument.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?”

“No.” You answered without so much as opening your eyes.

Behind you, you could hear Jackson moving around, presumably to shut off your phone (you didn’t care enough to look).

The ringing grew louder and louder and soon enough you could feel your phone vibrating against your back. “(Y/n), answer the phone.”

“No.” You repeated, throwing the cover over your head. It’s entirely too early for this. Didn’t he have something to do? Wasn’t he busy? You didn’t understand it. Now that you were separated, he suddenly had all the time in the world to call you?

You could hear Jackson sigh behind you. “I swear if I have to hear your ringtone one more time—I’m going to lose my mind. Just answer the phone!”

“If it bothers you so much, why don’t YOU answer it!”

“M-me! Me?” Jackson sputtered. “Do you want me to die? Do you know what that man would do to me if he found out you were staying with me? He would kill me.”

That much was true. Namjoon would be furious to find out you’d been staying with your male best friend, which is exactly why you went to Jackson’s place when you left him.

Was it petty? Yes. Was it worth it? Hell yes.

If his feelings and pride were hurt than good, that made two of you.

“I mean, I could probably take him. But Namjoon when he’s angry is a totally different person. Actually no, he wouldn’t just kill me. It would be murder in the First degree. I’m not answering.”

“Then put it on silent. I don’t care, I’m not talking to him.”

Suddenly, the warmth of your blanket was ripped away from you, forcing you out of your bubble of comfort. “Did you—did you just snatch my cover off? Jackson!”

“(Y/n),” He said, coming closer and taking your hands in his. “You are my best friend and you know I’m only saying this out of a place of love, but this has to stop. You have to go.”

“You’re kicking me out?”

“Look, it’s not like I don’t want you here, I love having you around you know that. It’s just—you’ve been hiding out on my couch for a couple of months now—”

“—Hiding! I’m not hiding!!!”

“And I refuse to harbour a fugitive anymore.”

“I’m not a fugitive…” you grumbled.

Jackson shot you a cross look.“Namjoon is searching high and low for you and you’re avoiding him here, in my apartment.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ok, AND?”

“And! I really don’t think staying here is doing you any good. You are not dealing with what happened. It’s not healthy. He’s calling for a reason, you need to talk to him. You can’t run away from this…”

You bit down on your lip, contemplating everything he said. He wasn’t really wrong. But you were far too exhausted to deal with Namjoon again.

You couldn’t go through another fight.

You weren’t angry. At least, not in the way you were before. The last of your anger had been exerted in a fit of rage when you returned to your home to pick up some things you left behind. This is what you told yourself. A lot of damage had been done. Broken dishes, shattered glass, photos ripped out from picture frames. Tiny vengeful acts that piled up to one huge mess. After all of it you were only partially satisfied. But that time had come and gone, you didn’t think you had any more fight in you.

You were filled with too much bitterness, too much resentment for any of that.

No matter what, you still couldn’t wrap your brain around it. How could he do this to you? You thought that having him speak the truth and actually admit to what he did would give you peace of mind but all it did was give you more questions than answers. Now just the thought of talking to him made bile rise up in your throat.

“I...I don’t even know what I would say to him.”

Jackson narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to say anything. He’s the one who fucked up, he should be doing all the talking.” His expression softened. “But...I think you should listen. If this is really over, you need closure.”

“And on that note, you’re gonna pick up the next time that phone rings or I will revoke your couch privileges!” He said, standing up with a smile on his face.

“I hate you for this.” You growled at him.

He smiled back at you, “I love you too.” He kissed your cheek, placing your cellphone in your hand, then left for his bedroom.

You looked down at the piece of metal in you hand and sighed. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t talk to him. And yet...there was still this small part of you that wanted to hear his voice. Determined to ignore that emotion you stood up from the couch, headed straight for the kitchen. Stress eating had become a terribly bad habit of yours, but you couldn’t help it. You were the type of person who ate her feelings (and honestly, food does make everything better).

You were shuffling through last night's leftovers, trying to decide if you should heat up a plate of dukbokki or humor yourself with dessert for breakfast when Jackson’s home phone went off.

You waited a bit, figuring he would pick up eventually, but he didn’t. “Jacksonnnn~”, you whined. Nothing. Whatever, you thought. I’ll just let it go to voicemail.

You turned back to the fridge, taking out a pint of ice cream when the beep of the machine sounded and a voice broke through the apartment's silence.

“Hey (Y/n),” At the sound of your name you immediately stopped everything and froze.

“It’s me, Hobi. I know you’re crashing at Jackson’s right now,” Your jaw dropped. How could he know that? You didn’t tell anyone where you were going.

You could hear him giggling on the phone. “Don’t worry I’m not gonna tell. I know you don’t wanna hear anything that I have to say but I’m still gonna say it anyway.”

“Namjoon’s a mess...We've been through a lot together—I’ve never seen him like this before. He made a mistake. A big mistake, and he knows it. But he loves you more than anything. Just hear him out okay? And not for him, but for you...I know you still love him too. Call me back, yeah? If you want, you can ditch him but don’t ditch us! We all miss you over here…..Take care of yourself.”

By the time the message ended you had teary eyes, only half a pint of ice cream left, and a decision to make. Suddenly, you didn’t have much of an appetite.

And then the phone rings. Your phone.

You let it buzz for a bit. Fully determined to ignore his call once again. But you couldn’t stop looking at the phone. Everyone’s words were circling in your head. What if your friends were right? Were you making a mistake? Would you regret this in the future?

The phone just keeps ringing. You wished it would stop so you didn’t have to think about any of this. You closed your eyes and decided to let fate make the choice for you. If he called back, you would use the last bit of fight in you to answer the phone. But if the phone call ended and he didn’t call back...then you’d really be done and let everything be.

Your ringtone died and you held your breath, waiting.

There was a long pause. Nothing.

Maybe he'll give up. Maybe he’s sick of all this too.

Expect—the phone rings again. Namjoon was still fighting for you.

So you pick up your phone, press the answer button, and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

…

♪ Loving you was easy once upon a time. But now my suspicions of you have multiplied. And it's all because you lied. ♪

…

“(Y/n)?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“I......I didn’t think you would actually pick up the phone.”

“Neither did I…”

Silence is a funny thing. It’s nothing, and everything at the same time. Somehow the emptiness is still able to fill a void. Nothing is said aloud, but a thousand words are said in the silent space between you and Namjoon. It’s probably only been a few seconds, but it feels like minutes have gone by, or maybe even hours. In those moments of suspended time you decide you don’t want to listen to anything coming from him. Not even this silence.

It’s almost as if he can hear your thoughts. “Don’t hang up!”

His voice is rushed, desperate…..and soothing. Though you’ll never admit that you miss the sound of his voice. Your intellect tells you not to listen. To block him out. Hang up the phone, and move on with your life, you don’t need anything from him...Maybe that was true. But underneath all the hurt, and the deeply buried anger, there was a part of you that wanted something from him.

What that something was you couldn’t tell, but it was enough to make you linger.

When you didn’t hang up, Namjoon spoke. “I called you. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for months now.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you answer?” His voice was strangled, raw. If you didn’t know any better you would think him to be holding back tears. But you couldn't even remember the last time you saw Namjoon cry.

“Maybe I wasn’t ready to talk. Everything isn’t always about you.”

You can hear Namjoon take in a breath on the other side of the line and you imagine him clenching the phone in a fist, the way he always does when he makes an important phone call. The silence stretches on for a beat too long and you’re two seconds away from hanging up again when he speaks. “I don’t wanna fight. I didn’t call to argue with you.”

His words are soft, yet you still find yourself on edge. “Then what do you want, Namjoon?”

“I want to see you.”

“No.” You said, shaking your head. Not gonna happen. You find yourself pacing against the kitchen floor. “I don’t want to see you.”

“Why not?”

His words are a match, igniting your fury and immediately all of the anger you worked so hard to keep suppressed comes bubbling up to the surface. “Why not? Are you serious?!”

“After everything you’ve done you really think I wanna see your sorry face again?” Tears filled your eyes—but you were frustrated—not sad. You were letting him get to you. Namjoon always made you feel too much. You knew you’d get worked up if you talked to him, it’s why you put it off for so long. You worked too hard to try and keep yourself together for him to tear you apart again.

You want this to end. “I have nothing to say to you. Goodbye, Namjoon--”

You take the phone from your ear, ready to press end call, and you would have, if you didn’t hear his faint voice through the speaker say: “If you feel anything for me at all, don't hang up!”

You can’t do it. Hang up. You won't lie to yourself. But you can’t force out a response either. Instead, you lean against the counter, letting the silence take over as you wait for Namjoon to form his next sentence. “I don’t blame you for wanting nothing to do with me. I didn’t call you to make you upset. I just want to talk about us.”

Us. What a foreign concept. You try picturing it in your mind but no matter what, you still can’t form a full image with the two of you together. You’d been apart for so long, and if you really thought about it, the separation began long before you ever left home.

“There hasn’t been an us for a long time. I tried to talk to you before—look what happened. I’m tired Namjoon. I just—I can’t keep doing the same thing over, and over again.”

“It’s not going to be the same.”

You frown. “How can you say that?”

“Because...I’m not the same. I’ve had a lot of time to think things over. I know I fucked up (Y/n), I’m so sorry.” You scoff at his poor attempt at an apology. “I’m supposed to accept that? You think you can just call me up, apologize over the phone, and everything will be okay?”

“No, of course not.” You hear him exhale sharply. “I know it’s going to take more than that. But it’s not gonna get better if we don’t talk about it. We can’t move forward if we don’t talk.”

“What makes you think I want to move forward?”

“You didn’t hang up…”

You hate that he’s right. You want to pretend like it didn’t mean anything but it did. It would be so much easier to just let it go—to let him go. Beyond all reason, you’re still hanging on to this relationship.

“Can we just talk, please. Just...just come home.”

“That’s not my home. It’s not. So much shit has happened in that place…” Your voice cracked and you couldn’t even finish your sentence.

How could you call that place home? Nothing felt right there. All it held were bad memories. Thinking of it only brought back the nights you spent alone, those times you cried yourself to sleep, and the worst fight you ever had with Namjoon. There was no peace there. You couldn't go back to that broken place. You feel a tear roll down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away. This time you knew the tears you cry come from pain, not frustration.

Dammit, I said I wouldn’t cry for him anymore!

“It is your home. It’s our home. You can come back anytime.”

“I don’t want to!”

“Okay, okay.” he said, his voice gentle. It was the same voice he used to use when he used to talk you down from your bad days. You could tell he was trying to calm you down, and it made you angry that it was kind of working. He suggested an alternative: “You don’t have to come home. Let’s just meet up somewhere.”

You don’t want that either. “Namjoon...Do you have any idea what you put me through?...W-why would I want to see you? Why would I want to hear anything you have to say?”

“I..I don’t have an answer to that. But I know you deserve an explanation.”

That made you quiet. These past months all you did was ask yourself why. Why did he do it? What reason did he have for breaking your heart? And there were so many more questions. You knew you wouldn’t get any peace of mind until they’re answered. It was what you wanted. No, needed.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll do it,” You conceded. “Where should we meet up?” You were not going ‘home’. You don’t feel comfortable there. There was a lull on the other line as Namjoon thought of a location.

“Can we meet at our place?”

. . .

You knew exactly what Namjoon meant when he said “our place”. When the two of you first started dating, it was really hard for you to be together. You work as a stylist at a fashion magazine and you met him and the other boys while working at a photoshoot. Namjoon caught your eye with his intuitive gaze and cool persona. He spoke to everyone on set with a natural esteem you found attractive. You were so surprised when you actually got the chance to speak to him and he turned out to be nothing like he appeared.

Gone was the calm, collected image you saw in front of the camera. Namjoon stuttered when he asked for your name, his cheeks bloomed into a rosy red. His nervousness charmed you, and in that moment, somehow you knew you would end up falling for him hard.

It didn’t take very much for you to give him your number. But finding a spot to go on a date with the famous rapper proved a bit more difficult. You never liked the idea of sneaking around, but you understood why. Namjoon wanted to keep things private to protect you, just in case the news of him dating didn’t go well with the public. For a long time it seemed like there was never going to be a place where Namjoon wasn’t recognized.

All the face masks and hats in the world couldn’t hide his fame. You grew tired of being swarmed in coffee shops and restaurants. You just wanted a place where you could talk, maybe hold his hand, and be at peace. Ironically, you found it when you stopped looking. It ended up not even being in a building, but instead an empty park.

Its lush greenery held quiet beauty. Not very many people knew about it, which made it perfect.

Some of the biggest conversations you ever had as a couple were spoken out here, and today was no different.

You walk up to a table nearby, tugging on the hem of your white summer dress. Fidgeting like this makes you feel stupid. You shouldn’t be nervous. If anyone should be nervous for today’s meeting it would be Namjoon. But ever since you agreed to see him, a bad feeling formed in the pit of your stomach. You didn't want to be nervous. You didn’t feel like you’d make it out of this alive if you were. You had to be steel. Strong, unbreakable. You couldn’t allow yourself to get hurt again.

It did not surprise you to see him there early. He was the type of person who liked to be punctual. Or at least he used to be. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t the same person you married. You didn’t know anything about him. Hell, after the last few months you were still trying to figure out some things about yourself.

Under the shade of the table's umbrella, Namjoon sits, bouncing his leg up and down. The only other time you’d seen him this nervous was during BTS’s first dome concert. His head faces down, staring at the ground with a look so intense he doesn’t even notice you approach him. The daze is broken once you sit down on the bench.

Namjoon jumps up, eyes wide as he looks at your face. “Y-you came?!”

It takes all your strength not to roll your eyes. Obviously...you thought.

He clears his throat, quickly sitting back down. “Thank you.”

For a while you just look at each other. You have to calm your heart as you take in his appearance. He’s just as handsome as you remembered. But something was different. He changed his hair. His silver locks were now a honeyed blonde. The warm glow of his skin had disappeared. And his once bright eyes now hold dark circles underneath them. He looked like shit, but you were still attracted to him, what logic was that?

The air tenses with silence, the way it always seems to do when you’re around him now. This is a mistake. Neither of you know where to begin. You hate it, but you know this conversation will never get anywhere if you don’t initiate it. “You said you wanted to explain. So explain.”

Namjoon looks tense. “I-i don’t even know where to start.”

That irritates you. You came all this way, and he didn’t even plan what he was going to say?

“What about the beginning?”

Namjoon sighed. He licked his lips, folded his hands, and then he did it. He told you everything. He told you about his anxiety, and the loneliness he felt. The desire to make it all fade away even for just a few moments. How he almost came clean the first time around. And the guilt that festered inside him for keeping the secret for so long.

“I wanted to tell you. But I knew I couldn’t tell you I cheated and keep you I—” Namjoon stopped. He looked away from you, biting down hard on his bottom lip before returning his gaze to yours.

“I was selfish. And I was wrong. There is no excuse for what I did. I’m so sorry, (Y/n).”

Your lips parted in shock. Going into this situation, you expected things to go a whole lot different. You expected him to try and defend himself, or at least blame you for the reason he cheated…but that wasn’t happening. Namjoon wasn’t trying to justify what he did, but instead taking full responsibility for his actions. Those words weren’t coming from the same man you walked away from. That man was filled with too much pride to even acknowledge his own actions—let alone apologize for them.

His actions surprised you. It was almost enough to make you drop your guard. Almost.

“I know you have questions. I’ll answer anything you ask me honestly, I swear.”

You paused. This is the moment you've been waiting for, and now that it was finally here you didn't know what to say. There were so many questions you wanted to ask. But you want to be sure you'll ask the right questions. And that you're prepared to hear the answers. Once you got the information you were dying to hear, you couldn't give it back. You’d have to live with it.

Finally, you spoke. “How’d you do it? How’d you keep this a secret for so long?”

“I kept a second phone hidden.”

The answer came with some relief. You knew you weren’t crazy, that there was some secret method to his deceit. The idea had come once or twice to go through his phone, but you knew Namjoon would never be that messy. “Did anyone else know?”

He nodded once, and a wave of aggravation rippled through you. “Some of the members knew.”

“Are you serious?” You laugh, but the sound felt hollow coming from your lips. “They must think I’m so stupid….”

“You know they don’t think that, they love you.”

You grimaced. Yeah, right. “Not enough to let me know the truth.”

Briefly you wondered which members knew and what kept them from coming to you, but you tried to push those thoughts away. You came here with questions for Namjoon. Nothing else mattered.

“Was it emotional?” You asked. “Did you love her?”

He shook his head vigorously. “No. No, it was just physical. They didn't mean anything to me.”

All the blood in your body went cold. “They?”

Namjoon opens his mouth. Then closed it again. “Shit.” He hoped to leave that part out of this meeting. A part of him knew it wouldn't be fair to you but would the truth really be any better?

“.....There was more than one girl?”

He ran a hand down his face then nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Yes.”

Through gritted teeth you ask, “How many?”

You wait for an answer but this time Namjoon keeps quiet. “You said you'd answer anything.”

“I know—”

“So that was a lie?”

“No.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Then why won't you tell me?”

Namjoon tensed, jaw clenching. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You narrowed your gaze on him. “Well it’s too fucking late for that don’t you think? ‘Honestly’, huh? You’re so full of shit Namjoon. Being honest means telling the whole truth. All of it!”

“How many?” You press. Part of you is afraid of the answer but you still need to know.

You wait, staring him down but Namjoon looked away. He can’t say it looking you in the eye, instead he buries his face in his hands then mutters out the word three.

“Three?” You repeat.

You lean back from him, gripping the edge of the table. It felt like the world was spinning around you. Wow. Three girls. Three different girls.

Sensing your distress Namjoon quickly added. “They're just girls. They don’t matter.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept that for an answer. “Of course they matter. You made a choice to go to them, instead of me. I have to know why. What did they have that I didn’t?”

“Everything.”

Ouch, okay. You close your eyes as the pain from that statement washes all over you. The pain you feel isn’t new, but familiar. Like reopening an old wound. But Namjoon isn’t finished. Before you can even process his words he speaks again. “They were selfish, demanding, and manipulative...the complete opposite of you.”

You feel your brows pull together. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? The fact that all the women you slept with are somehow lesser than me?”

Namjoon looks confused and hurt. “(Y/n), I don't know what you want from me. I can’t change the past, all I can say is I’m sorry.”

For so long all you wanted was for him to apologize. Really apologize. No excuses, no bullshit. But now that you finally heard it, sorry just didn’t feel like enough. Instead his words make you feel empty inside. Sorry, isn’t enough to stay. You want to leave now.

Clearing your throat, you got ready to go. “I don’t know what to say to that and I don’t have anymore question so—”

“Can I ask you a question?”

You huffed out a sigh. “Fine.”

“Why did you leave? You said you'd never leave me.”

You feel yourself flush with frustration. “And you said you'd never cheat on me. Promises mean nothing. Words, mean nothing. The only thing that matters is how you act.”

“Besides,” You said, looking away from him to the beautiful summer landscape. “You didn't try to stop me. It's like you didn't even care.”

“Of course I cared. I made a mistake—”

Standing up, you slam your hands down on the table. “It was not. A mistake! Oh my god! How can you still not get it? Cheating is a choice! You made a choice! You think I didn’t get lonely all those nights I spent by myself? You think you’re the only man who’s ever approached me???”

“Of course not—”

“No. Of course not! Because I’m a catch, Namjoon.” Not caring how loud you get, you raise your voice. “I am kind, I am smart, I am ambitious, I am beautiful. You had to be out of your fucking mind to cheat on me!” You said, pressing your index finger against your temple.

You’re crying now, hot tears streaming down your face.“Why can’t you see that? Everyone else can.”

It’s the only question that goes unanswered. Namjoon stares at you, eyes glistening, but he doesn’t say a word.

“I can’t do this,” You wiped at your wet face frantically, standing up to leave.

(Y/n), please.” Namjoon moved to stop you but you ripped out of his grasp.

“I have to go.” You say reaching for your bag, ready to walk away from him, from your marriage, and all the hurt he just laid at your feet.

Love Drought

♪ Nine times out of ten, I'm in my feelings. But ten times out of nine, I'm only human. Tell me, what did I do wrong? Feel like that question has been posed. I'm movin' on.

. . .

You haven't seen Namjoon but that doesn’t stop you from thinking about him.

You think about him almost every single day. What was he doing? How was he moving on without you? Was he moving on at all, or was he just sitting around somewhere...waiting for you to come back?

All these questions only fueled your anxiety and your determination to stay as far away as possible from Namjoon. If you didn’t see him, if you went away...Then those questions would go away too, right? You were going for the whole ‘out of sight out of mind thing’. But it wasn’t working. Because even though you said you were done—Namjoon still had pieces of you. Literally. Your things still remained untouched at the house.

You meant it when you said you didn’t want to go back home. But you needed to come get your belongings. It takes all of your strength to make the drive over without stopping to throw up, or cry. Stepping inside the place where your marriage died was the last thing you wanted to do on your day off. You put off the inevitable for months but it’s time now, you’re moving on, and you’re moving out.

So why was it so hard for you to move past the front door?

You stood there, frozen at the threshold. Heart aching at the thought of what you’re about to do. Fuck (Y/n), you cursed at yourself.You’re a grown ass woman, you can do this. Get in there. It was dead quiet in the house, as you hoped. You’re too much of a coward to call Namjoon and let him know you’re coming to take the last of your things. Couldn’t even text him. No message you typed out felt right. Anything you had to say you already told him. At this point, you both know your marriage is at its end. All you can do is pray that he won’t be there the same time you are. It’s why you chose to come in the evening. Namjoon wouldn’t be home until very late at night because of his schedule. It would give you enough time to get most of your things packed up.

Bawling your hands into fists you gripped your door key tightly, slid it in the keyhole, and unlocked the door. You take two steps inside, close the door behind you, and it feels as though you’ve stepped through time. It’s like nothing’s changed. You don’t quite know what you were expecting. You didn’t have any expectations coming over, but now looking at the space before you, you decided this isn’t it.

The house isn’t spotless, but it’s tidy, neat. In stark contrast from the last time you were here, and the fit you threw. Somehow you expected the house to look exactly in that state: broken. But nothing’s really changed. Soon your feet take on movement of their own, walking you towards the bedroom. Being back in that room is strange. It's almost as if you never left him at all. The sunset pools through the window, drowning the bed in light that looks like honey. The space has the essence of your home. The only difference you feel now is the emptiness. You spent many nights home without Namjoon but it never felt like this.

This time you’re really all by yourself. You don’t live in the same house anymore, but you're not completely alone living off your bestfriends couch. It’s been years since you’ve remembered what it feels like to be without a partner. You wondered...This emptiness...Is this what it would feel like to live without Namjoon?

You swallow down a sob, trying not to drown in your loneliness and turn and walk into the closet. Remember why you're here. Get your things, you just have to make it through these next few minutes. You reminded yourself that the hard part, the confrontation (and the leaving) was already over. All you have to do now is pack.

Strange enough your heart still aches, though not in the way it did before. This is not the ache of betrayal. You truly believed that pain would never subside but it did. Not by time but by choice. You had to choose to let go of the anger and the hurt, choose to free yourself from resentment. No. This ache was something else entirely. But you couldn’t put a name to it.

You step inside your closet, eyes studying your hung up clothes and the suitcases hidden underneath them. Not wanting to spend any more time than needed here, you got on your knees and started pulling out suitcases, folding up clothes, and putting them away. It all went much quicker than you’d expected (you got most of your clothes out during the beginning of your separation). You were picking off hangers at the end of the closet when you came across a garment bag. The garment bag.

Right away you knew you shouldn’t. Only a masochist would unzip the garment bag to their wedding dress when they’re currently living apart from their husband. And yet, you still did it. Tentatively your fingers reached out to grab hold of the bag. You pulled it into your lap and slowly undid the zipper. Then you saw your wedding dress, and you melted. As your eyes traced over the lace detail the memories of that day flickered through your mind.

It wasn’t at all what you expected. When you were younger, you always dreamed of a big wedding, everything you've ever heard about in fairytales. You wanted it to happen early in the morning, in a beautiful church with stained glass windows, surrounded by all your friends and family. You expected there would be flowers everywhere, and something else, something special. The romantic in you hoped for doves or maybe butterflies. And your dress? Only the most regal ball gown would do as you walked down the aisle to the man of your dreams.

Of course, fantasies rarely become reality. The issue of privacy is important when marrying a celebrity. At the time, just getting married seemed impossible, let alone doing it big. With the group's growing fame and Namjoon’s busy schedule, how could you find the time to get married? Or find a venue where fans or media couldn’t find you? You’d have to plan every second, every detail. Nothing could be left up to chance. Both of you were so in love but also, so very stressed with the situation before you until Namjoon made a second proposal.

“Why don’t we just elope?” he asked.

It was late at night. You lay in the comfort of his arms, head resting on his chest and mere seconds away from blissful sleep, so it took you a full minute to process that sentence. You lifted your head to look into his eyes. “What?”

Namjoon smiled down at you, thumb rubbing slow circles against your back. “Let’s just do it. Get married, I mean. Who says we have to wait or plan? I love you. I wanna marry you now.”

You sat up in bed, propped yourself up on your arm, and searched his face. “Are you serious?”

You watched amused as he narrowed his sharp eyes at you in a mock glare. “Why would I joke about this? Of course I’m serious! Let’s do it.”

You looked at him hard for a minute, but when Namjoon didn’t flinch you knew he was for real. Then of course the panic kicked in. “Baby, what? Let’s do it? It’s not like we can just walk into a church and say ‘I do’ !”

“Technically, we can.”

You shook your head, “No. What about all the plans we’ve made? I already booked the venue, and our caterer—”

Namjoon rolled over onto his side, facing you. “So we’ll cancel. The date’s still months away, that's more than enough time to give notice that we’ve changed our minds.”

You laughed,, but your shaky breath came out like a scoff. “Do you know how hard it was for me to get those reservations?! That cathedral is wedding heaven! It is stained glass perfection. The wait time is usually up to a year. A YEAR. And our cake, it’s being made by Giovanni Bianchi—world renowned pastry chef—Giovanni Bianchi. It’s a seven-tiered baked dream. And you want me to cancel?”

To your disbelief Namjoon simply shrugged. “Do we really need all that?”

He reached out, taking your hands in his. He looked down, stroking them with his thumbs in an effort to soothe you. “Grand cathedral or not, as long as we’re together, I’m already in heaven. Our wedding will be perfect no matter where we are because we have each other. And the cake? Well, why would I need a dream cake, when I can have my dream girl?” He said, winking at you.

Your heart swelled at sweet words. As much as you wanted to roll your eyes you couldn’t help but smile. God, he was so cheesy. But isn’t that why you loved him? Still...you felt anxious. He might have melted your heart, but you weren’t fully convinced.

“Yeah okay, very smooth. What about our families? They’ve been looking forward to this so much. Our mothers will murder us!” You made a face, suddenly remembering your wedding party. “Oh the boys…..Jin will be so disappointed if he doesn’t get to be your best man” (you distinctly recalled him rejoicing at the news knowing he’d be “the most handsome” best man ever).

Namjoon brought your fingers to his lips and kissed the tips in between explanations. “It’s not about them”. Kiss. “Jin will get over it”. Kiss. “Our families will forgive us”. Kiss. “We’re not getting married for anyone else but us, we can do it however we want.”

You nodded your head in agreement, though you were still unsure. You knew all these things. Of course your marriage would be just for the two of you. You had no interest in simply performing the act for others approval. You loved Namjoon, you loved your relationship together, and you wanted to do what felt right for the both of you. Still, you couldn’t help but worry about the public’s opinion.

“What about your fans?” you asked. “What if pictures get out?” The whole point of all this planning was for privacy. The world knew BTS was dating, many fans suspected they had secret girlfriends, but a wife? How would they react to that? You didn’t want to hurt anyone, least of all Namjoon and his image. You know how hard he and the rest of Bangtan worked to be respected in the music industry. What would happen if the world found out their leader was dating a nobody like you?

Namjoon looked you straight in the eyes, and spoke in a calm voice. “I don’t care. I’m not ashamed of loving you. Let the whole world see that I’m marrying the kindest, loveliest, soul I’ve ever known. I don’t care what they think, or what they say. I just want you. All I want is to be your husband, and for you to be my wife. Nothing else matters.”

You felt another wave of love pass over your heart. His sincerity stunned you. You glanced at him with glistening eyes. “Namjoon…Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He grinned at you, letting go of your hand to reach up and cup your cheek. “Are you done yet?” He teased. “Despite all your protests, I haven’t heard you say no…?”

You took a second to think through your conversation. Namjoon was right. You never said no, because as crazy as it was, you agreed with your fiancé wholeheartedly. You wanted this, you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, and you wanted to get married as quickly as possible. With a new resolve you shifted in the bed straddling him, then wrapped your arms around his neck. “Okay,” you said.

Namjoon raised both eyebrows up. “Okay!? Just like that? Anything else I need to assure you of? We have our marriage license. I have a tux. You already have your dress. I know you’re concerned but we have everything we need.”

You nodded. This time you were sure. “Let’s do it.”

Namjoon hesitated, then his face broke into a smile that was so bright it gave life to one of your own. In that moment you realized what you thought to be nerves earlier was really just excitement. You brought your hand to his shoulders, squeezing tight. “We’re getting married,” you whispered, voice full of awe.

“We’re getting married!” Namjoon echoed.

Before you knew it, you were walking down the aisle. You let him plan it all. You got married at night, in a small church, without stained glass windows. There was no big guest list, but neither of you could stand the thought of going through the ceremony completely by yourselves, so you allowed for your immediate family to be there (that included Yoongi, Hoseok, Jin, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk). Flowers did not adorn every pew, but the space was illuminated by soft and warm candlelight. No butterflies or doves. It wasn’t like what you imagined in your head. Life rarely coincides with those kinds of plans. But Namjoon was right. Because you had each other, it was perfect.

In the end, the only part of your wedding that lived up to the fairytale was your dress. It was everything you wanted in a gown. All white with a sweetheart neckline, crystal embroidery and layers upon layers of tulle. The dress felt a bit heavy, but you can still remember the look on his face when he lifted your veil. In one glance, he made all that weight disappear. You felt lighter than air. “You look like an angel.” He whispered, voice sweet and low, so only you could hear. In that moment all you could feel was love.

So how did you end up here? Clutching your wedding dress on the closet floor, desperately wiping away tears. God, what a mess you are. You pushed out a breath and started shoving the white, fluffy fabric back into the garment dress. It was a mistake taking this out. You couldn’t get it back in again. Your fingers slip as you try to grip the zipper, and you can’t tell if it’s because of your sweaty palms or your wet tears, but it won’t budge. Why won’t it zip? You pull up hard, snagging the dress in its teeth.

Shit. Frustration flushes through you as you snatch the zipper back down only to hear the distinct sound of fabric tearing in the process.

You shut your eyes tight, shoulders slumping with defeat. When you opened your eyes again all you could see was the rip in the dress, threads straining and unraveling all at once. It looked as torn up as you feel inside. Part of you is falling apart at the idea of leaving Namjoon, pressured to leave all of this pain behind and let go of the relationship. Call it mind over matter. It didn’t make sense to stay with a man you had broken your heart and your trust. All logic told you to divorce him and never look back. You know this. And yet? There is a part of you aching to repair what’s been broken, pull out the sorrow from this home, and heal all the hurt.

You were so busy wrapped in your thoughts that you hadn’t heard the door unlock, or footsteps tread into the bedroom. From the corner of your eye you saw a glimpse of blond hair, wide brown shoulders. It was Namjoon. You couldn’t help the startled gasp that fell from your lips.

“(Y/n)”, he breathed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Namjoon kept his distance. He didn’t look at you and didn’t cross the threshold of the closet door, generously leaving space between you. Instead, his eyes were glued to the floor. “I saw your car out front, but I didn’t think it’d actually be you here.” He reached up a hand, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just...confused.” Namjoon glanced up at you from underneath his eyelashes then slowly, his smokey eyes rose to meet yours. “Why are you here?”

“. . .” You faltered. Once Namjoon laid his eyes on you, you softened, even after all this time he had that effect on you. You were still consumed in thoughts about your marriage...feeling that again, you didn’t know what to think. You almost preferred it when you felt anger or pain at the sight of him. Instead you felt something else. You looked down at your lap, fingering the dress. Was it longing? You started again, making eye contact. “I came back to get the rest of my things.”

A look passed across Namjoon’s face but before you could identify it, it was gone. Namjoon nodded, looking away from your face. His gaze shifted to your hands. “Is...is that—”

“—My wedding dress? Yes.” You tried to think of an excuse, some reason for you having it out but nothing came to mind. You shrugged, settling for the truth. “I just wanted to look at it I guess.” Both of you ignored your tear stained face.

Namjoon bit his lip, the silence stretching between you until he said, “I’ll leave you to it,” and abruptly walked away. Finally alone you breathed out a sigh.

You felt a tinge of disappointment. And you were angry with yourself for it. You don’t know what you were hoping for, or what you wanted to get out of that conversation. What’d you expect? Did you really think after everything that he’d lower himself one last time and beg for you to come back? Again? The man you married you would have, but the man who cheated on you? No, he had too much pride. This wasn’t a romance movie where the couple fights and breaks up but somehow everything magically fixes itself and they get back together. It was really over.

The finality of it all stunned you. You sat there, numbing yourself to the pain for a minute. Then you striantened out your wedding dress, and zipped up the garment bag. This time it went up without a hitch. You were just getting up off your knees when Namjoon whipped back into the room, surprising you.

“I know you could care less about anything I have to say right now,” he began, raising a cautious hand. “You probably hate me, and I understand that. I hate myself for what I’ve done to you.” He looked up in thought then pressed his hands into his eyes. When his hands fell away you braced yourself for what came next. “I’m asking you for a second chance. I’m asking you for a second chance because I love you more than anything. You are the love of my life, and I’m sorry I forgot that. I know you don’t owe me anything, least of all your forgiveness.”

He stopped, voice thickening as he gulped down tears. “But I’m asking for it.”

“I couldn’t live with myself knowing I didn’t do everything to get you back.”

Tears filled your eyes. “Are you saying that, because you love me? Or are you saying that because you want me back?”

His gaze never wavered. “Both. I want you back, because I love you. Knowing you and loving you has been the biggest blessing in my life. I don’t regret it. I'd do it all over again, just to have you in my life. Even if it meant losing you. ”

All at once it hit you. That feeling, the one you struggled to identify when you held your wedding dress in your arms. It wasn’t longing. It was love. You were still in love with Namjoon.

And so you did the unthinkable. You kissed him.

Sandcastles

♪ We built sandcastles that washed away. I made you cry when I walked away, oh. And although I promised that I couldn't stay, baby. Every promise doesn't work out that way.

. . .

It only takes seconds for you to cross the space between and press your lips to his. For a moment, Namjoon doesn’t move—doesn’t even breathe. Then his arms wrapped around you, brought you flush against him and you melted in his embrace as he kissed you, his lips softer than ever. Deep down, you know you shouldn’t. It would be too painful to become wrapped up in Namjon again only to tear yourself away from him. But your body has a will of its own. When his tongue swept across your bottom lip, you parted for him like the red sea and every emotion you’d ever felt for him came flooding back.

Every kiss you’ve ever had, every whisper of “I love you,” all of it ignited in your mind the second Namjoon kissed you back in a moment so intense you felt your body tremble at his touch. His lips moved gently over yours while his hands came up to cup your cheeks, and before you know it, you find yourself in the middle of the most sensual kiss you’ve had in your life. Namjoon kissed you like he was hungry, tongue rolling into your mouth. You couldn’t help but moan, arching into his embrace.

It was shameful how your body responded back to him. You could feel your heart rate increase, the heat rushing to your cheeks. You couldn’t remember the last time you wanted him like this. Your thoughts traveled back to the words that sparked your desire: “I want you back, because I love you. Knowing you and loving you has been the biggest blessing in my life. I don’t regret it. I'd do it all over again, even if it meant losing you.”

All this time you’d been fighting against your love for Namjoon, convinced any feelings he had for you were long gone. But everything he said proved otherwise.

It was confusing to you. You spent so much time thinking that Namjoon didn’t want you anymore, you’d even come to accept it but now? You didn’t know what to think. Your mind was screaming for you to pull away, stop before it went any further. That everything you were doing right now was wrong. Except, it didn’t feel wrong. It almost felt...good. Right.

The truth is you feel exactly the same. Despite everything you’d been through, you still loved Namjoon. He was the love of your life and you wished with everything in you that you could turn back the clock and start over. If what he said was true—if there was even a possibility of Namjoon still loving you, you needed to feel that.

Namjoon’s touch made you desperate. You found your hands tracing the planes of his body, running down his muscular arms before coming back up as you linked your arms around his neck. He kissed you deeper, groaning low in his throat, and the sound was enough to drive you wild. Even this close, you couldn’t get enough of him. All you could feel was the compulsive need for more. More of his touch. More of his kisses. More, more, more.

You could feel Namjoon’s body backing you up to the bed. Your knees hit the mattress and you allowed yourself to fall back against the soft sheets. But Namjoon didn’t fall with you. You opened your eyes, instantly giving way to panic. His pause alarmed you. Your anxiety reared its ugly head, speaking cruelty into your mind. How could you be so foolish? What were you thinking, kissing Namjoon? He didn’t actually want you. He was leading you on, playing with your feelings. That’s why he stopped.

You pulled yourself up, leaning your weight back on your elbows to look into his eyes. You expected to see cold rejection on his handsome face, but what you saw in his gaze wasn’t at all what you imagined. Instead, when you looked into his eyes, all you could see was raw, unfiltered desire. And strangely enough, uncertainty.

Namjoon had a million thoughts racing through his mind, all of them questions.

How did he end up here, with you spread across his bed when only minutes before you seemed worlds apart? The situation didn’t feel real, more like a fantasy, like he dreamed you up. But if this dream was real—if this dream was really coming true—should he let it?

Of course he wanted you. If you kissed him like this a couple of months ago, Namjoon wouldn’t hesitate to take you; he’d have his way with you until you screamed his name. But tonight, the last thing Namjoon wanted. He’d spent months craving your touch; the feel of your lips against his, how the heat of your body felt flush against his. He caused you enough pain acting on his lust. He didn’t want to hurt you further by taking advantage of the situation.

Both of you got caught in an emotional whirlwind but this kiss was a mistake, wasn’t it? He looked down at you, waiting for you to push him away but you didn’t make a move. Instead, you stared at him, desire burning in your eyes. God, that look alone was enough to arouse him. Still, he didn’t make any move to kiss you.

You took a moment to look at Namjoon, really look at him. Trying to uncover the emotion swirling behind his dark eyes. The longer you stared, the more you felt like your heart was going to burst from your chest. You could see his uncertainty but the feeling wasn’t mutual.

Was it insane to sleep with your soon to be ex-husband? Yes. Did it make you want it any less?

Not even in the slightest.

I must be losing my mind. You couldn’t explain it yourself, but kissing Namjoon opened up something in you. Feelings you didn’t know you still had swept all over you. Heat washed over your body. You could feel your skin flush, passion stirring in your blood.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice taut with apprehension.

Your body was practically screaming yes. But Namjoon’s hesitation made you pause.

Reading the confusion in your eyes, he quickly backtracked. “I’m not saying I don’t want to—believe me I do—I just don’t want you to do something tonight that you’ll regret in the morning.”

Your mind wasn’t there. That moment seemed so far off from the ever-present now and the rapid beating of your heart and the warmth of Namjoon’s body. You knew you had to make a choice. Yes or no. There was a small voice in the back of your head cautioning you against this. But tonight you were following your heart. Consequences be damned.

You looked up at him and nodded. “I want this.”

Namjoon leaned forward to kiss you, and you shivered at the feel of his lips against yours. This time, there was no hesitation. You couldn’t remember the last time Namjoon kissed you like this. Slowly, tenderly, like this kiss mattered. Like you mattered. Any inhibition you had melted away as you leaned into his touch. You felt yourself lower back down onto the bed. Namjoon’s hands passed over your body, slimming down your waist, before coming to rest on your thighs. You let them linger there, savoring the feeling of his hands on your body.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. You were so into the kiss, the feel of him you didn’t notice his hands pry off your clothes until you were left in only your underwear.

He stopped then, pulled away from your lips to look at you. Then the only thing you could feel on your body were his eyes drinking you in. The eye contact alone had you squeezing your thighs together. You watched the heat build in his dark gaze until his eyes lingered just a little too long, until your skin tingled all over from the intensity.

Then he was all over you, leaving open-mouthed kisses down your throat. Hands cupping your breasts. The feel of him against your thigh. It was an assault to your senses, but instead of overwhelming you, it only made you crave him even more. You arched your back as Namjoon kissed your collarbone, slowly making his way down the valley of your breasts. You moaned at the sensation of his tongue moving down your body, closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Namjoon,” You breathed, body humming with pleasure. He looked up from between your thighs, dark eyes connecting with yours for a split second. You watched as he hooked his fingers into your underwear and dragged them down your legs. Then he gave his complete attention to your body, licking a long strip straight down your center that had you moaning his name again.

Namjoon gripped your thighs firmly in his hands, pulling you closer towards him. He wanted you to know that this meant more to him than just sex, that he loved you, and that he was more than willing to show you just how much. He takes his time tasting you. Each lick languid and loving. He didn’t want to tease you, all he wanted to do was to please you. To touch you and erase the pain he caused--even if only for a second. Namjoon swirled his tongue across your clit. Once, twice, a third time, drawing sweet moans and gasps from your lips.

You couldn’t keep yourself quiet. It’d been so long since anyone touched you. Throughout everything, you still remained faithful to Namjoon. And even if you’d been with another, no one could ever make you feel like this. Have your toes curling, back arching. It was almost embarrassing how easily you melted under his touch. Some part of you still wondered how you could give in so easy. Shouldn’t you be feeling some resistance? All you felt was longing.

You found yourself rocking your hips against him, and crying out as his tongue delved deeper.

You wanted to bring your hands up to your face to muffle the sounds but before you could, Namjoon stopped you.

“Don’t,” he said. He took hold of your hands and threading his fingers through yours. All the while his tongue was still swirling against you, making lewd sounds that had you feeling hot.

You could feel your body heating up, the rise and fall of your chest coming faster and faster. When you felt him slide tongue inside you, pressing up against your sweet spot—it was enough to push you over the edge. You came, squeezing Namjoon’s hands tight.

Namjoon lapped up your juices, enjoying the taste of your slick on his tongue. Even then he didn’t stop, coaxing a second orgasm out of you with soft licks against your center.

“Joon,” you whimpered, body humming with oversensitivity. “Too much.”

Only then did he pull away, moving to place a tender kiss on the inside of your thigh. He sat up, and you rose on your elbows ready and willing to return the favor, but Namjoon gently pushed you back down on the bed, shaking his head.

“I just wanna be inside you right now,” he rasped.

God, you wanted that too. They way Namjoon ate you out had your body begging for more. You weren't going to argue with him.

Namjoon sat up and placed a hand around your neck, guiding you back to his lips. It started out slow. Soft, sweet kisses against your lips. It wasn’t until he slipped his tongue inside your mouth that he found himself suddenly desperate for you. Even more surprising was your reaction to him. You kissed him back with just as much fever, completely captivated.

The kiss seemed to go on forever. When you finally pulled away, you looked at each other, panting, the air thickening between you two. Namjoon’s dark eyes stared down at you with an intensity that pierced your soul. You knew he felt it too. This energy...There was still love between you. But you’d already made your decision. You wanted this moment, this passion but you couldn’t trust him with your heart and be sure he wouldn’t break it. I can’t fall for him again. I can’t. You wanted him badly but wanting him, and trusting him were two different things.

“Namjoon,” you started. Then stopped, trying to find the right words to explain. “This isn’t—I can’t—”

“—Stay? I know.” Namjoon knew what he was getting into the second you kissed him. He knew this was goodbye, and that it would hurt like hell come morning. He didn’t care. If only he could change the past, he’d take it all back.

But he couldn’t. The damage was already done. This was the last time he’d ever hold you in his arms again. If he could have you, even for this short time, he’d take what he could get. He wasn’t going to fuck it up trying to make this into something it wasn’t. He loved you too much to be selfish at this moment. If this were the last time, he would make it well worth your while.

“I just need tonight.”

Namjoon pulled you tighter against him, molding you against his body. Before making any sudden movement, he pulled back a little to look in your eyes, to make sure this was still what you wanted.

You cupped his cheek and kissed his lips, reassuring him. Then he aligned his cock against your entrance and pushed inside you with one smooth move. You tensed, freezing in his arms. The feeling of your walls clenched around him made staying still absolute torture. But Namjoon wouldn’t dare move.

You close your eyes and breathe out a shaky breath, familiarizing yourself with the burn of the stretch. He’s so thick it takes a minute for your body to adjust to the size. Though the sensation of Namjoon nuzzling into your neck helps turn the pain into pleasure. You hooked your leg around his waist nudging him forward.

The small act made both of you moan in unison. “Namjoon...please,” you breathed.

He moved, starting out with a pace that had your insides feeling molten. His hands gripped at your hips as he pulled out almost all the way, then slowly slid himself deep inside you. You were so wet, so tight he couldn’t help but groan. The feel of you taking all of him, giving him this pleasure and the look in your eyes...Namjoon was sure he’d never love another the same way.

This wasn’t just sex. Namjoon knew the difference now. What it really meant to be intimate with a partner. To share his body with someone not for a distraction or stroke his ego but for love. To draw closer with one another. This was it for him. You, it was always you. There would never be another. He started to rock into you, deep and slow, desperate to make you feel that.

You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the sensation. Needing more, you raised your hips to meet his thrusts and Namjoon took the hint, snapping his hips to meet yours faster. You cried out as he filled you again and again and again. Right now, you don't have to worry about future decisions. You didn’t have to think about all the conflicting feelings you had for this man.

Not that you could think about that anyways. Your senses were all wrapped up in how good Namjoon was making you feel. His pace was brutal just how you liked it, but his touch was nothing but kind. His hands trailed up to the small of your back keeping you close. Namjoon cupped your face as he kissed you; he only pulled away to rest his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes. You’d slept with Namjoon before, but something about this time was different. If you didn’t know any better—you’d think he was making love to you. He was so strong, yet so loving. You wished he could be this way with you always.

You wanted to stay here, savor this moment. But Namjoon was grinding his hips against yours in a way that had you breathless. You were so close. “Namjoon, I—”

“Come for me,” he said.

Growling, he thrust harder against you and reached down between your bodies to rub your clit, driving you towards your orgasm. Your pleasure built inside you, sweeping over your body like a wave until it crashed and washed over you, sending tremors down your body.

Feeling you come apart in his arms, Namjoon slowed his thrusts. You clenched around him till pleasure flooded his senses and he came too, burying his face in your neck and moaning out your name.

The only sound heard throughout the room was panting as the two of you came down from your highs. Namjoon brushed your hair away from your face and ran his thumb across your cheek.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice full of concern. He rolled off you and onto his side so as not to crush you but remained close, his skin flush against yours.

“Mhmm…” you hummed. You stared at the ceiling as your heart rate slowed back down. You were expecting to feel something. Regret...maybe relief?

You don’t know what you were hoping for. Maybe subconsciously you thought sleeping with Namjoon would help you come to some kind of resolution. A grand epiphany that would tell you what to do with your situation. But really you didn’t feel any different than you did before.

“What are you thinking about?”

You shake your head as if to shake all those thoughts out of your head. “Nothing.”

Namjoon didn’t press you, but the silent tension in the air gave you the impression that he wanted to ask for more.

You’ve never felt so divided. The ego in you wanted to walk away from it all. Say goodbye and cut your losses, no matter the cost. You made peace with leaving because you were so sure that Namjoon didn’t want you. You knew you couldn’t be with a man who had no love for you. But now, knowing that there was still love here. That he still cared, that you still cared. It changed things. You wanted it to work. But you weren’t sure if you could love him the same; there was always the issue of trust. How could you ever trust him again?

“I’m sorry,” said Namjoon. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

You turned to face him then, lying on your side. “It was what it wanted and now…” You trailed off, lost to your thoughts again. You had to think about it. Dig deep and really question what it was you were searching for.

“Now what? What do you need?” His expression was torn but honest.

So you asked for what you really wanted out of him. You asked for the truth.

“I need you to tell me everything.”

. . .

And he does. That night, as you bathe together, he finally tells you the truth. The whole truth.

When the sweat on your skin dried and became sticky, Namjoon ran a bath. You both got inside the clawfoot tub and sat on opposite sides, bodies intermingling as you faced each other. It was thick with quiet as the bath filled up with heated water.

At first, Namjoon hesitated. You could tell he wanted to spare your feelings. So he gave you the truths in little bits. Pieces of information you could swallow, like the names of his past lovers, and when each act happened. Then slowly, bigger chunks that had you holding your breath as you processed the facts of his betrayal. He told you about it all. About the weakness, the desperation, and the loneliness he felt on tour. The need to be touched and seen–really seen–by someone. Even if that someone wasn’t you. How one bad decision turned into two, turned into three. And the guilt. The guilt that accompanied the deception that rose and rose like high flames, eating him up inside.

By the time Namjoon’s done speaking, the water’s gone lukewarm, and your fingers were pruned, yet neither of you gets out of the bath. You let Namjoon bring you to close, till your back's up against his chest. He lathers his hands, and you let his calloused palms wash the pain away. Till the only thing you feel is his light touch. You repeat this action to him, stroking his skin with absolute ease. Then, and only then do you step out of the water. Namjoon drapes a fluffy white towel over your shoulder and wraps it around you.

He looks you in the eyes, and tells you that you're the only woman he’s ever loved. The only woman he would ever love. And you believe him.

. . .

That night, you lay down beside him exhausted. Not the kind of exhaustion that comes from lack of sleep or a long day at work. Not the weariness that leads to nights of deep slumber–no–this is the weariness that puts stress on your heart. The kind that leaves you feeling drained. Empty. Beside you, Namjoon sleeps, but you’re wide awake.

Every nerve in your body is begging for rest. But it’s your heart keeping you up tonight.

Heart over mind, mind over matter. You're split in both directions. Wanting to stay, and wanting to go. You told yourself that you were leaving. Walking away from it all.

But something felt wrong.

Everything was already moving in one way, but your heart was starting to face another. You still hadn’t made up your mind.

You lay in bed with your eyes closed and remembered the first time you left. Before you knew the truth, before you knew anything really, except for the fact that you didn’t want to live in a lie. You packed your bag and drove to Jackson’s, but you couldn’t make it through the night without breaking down and calling your mom. You spilled your heart to her, and she heard you, even through all the tears. You called to get everything off your chest, but you were also searching for answers. You were desperate for her to give you some kind of sign of what you were supposed to do or an out, but she didn’t.

“Do you remember when you were little, and you used to make sandcastles at the beach?” she asked. “You used to love playing in the sand. Barely even went in the water. You spent all day just creating something, building your own world.”

It caught you off guard. You were so shocked that for the first time in hours you stopped crying.

The memory was hazy in your mind, but you could still picture those summer days filled with warm golden sun, and the salty sea air.

“Some days as the sun set, the tide would come in and wash away everything you worked on. And you’d cry. Cry your little heart out. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to pick you up, and hold you in my arms, comfort you. But you were at that age where you needed to start learning how to comfort yourself. So I let you cry. And after you’d got out all your tears, sometimes you’d start over. Dig your hands into the sand and start building all over again. Make something new. And sometimes you’d give up, walk away and come sit by me.”

“Yeah mom I remember...but, what does that have to do with anything?”

“You built your marriage with Namjoon on a foundation of love, faith, and trust. That’s your sandcastle. And now that trust has been washed away you don’t know what to do, and you're crying out for me. Baby, I love you, but you’re gonna have to make this decision for yourself. I can’t make it for you. Whatever you decide, I will be right behind you, supporting you. If you want to stay and find a way to be together I will be here. If you want to divorce him I’ll be here for that, too. But you have to decide.”

You let her words sink in. You knew she was right. But you were so frustrated, so overwhelmed you burst into tears again. “How am I supposed to decide? It’s so hard to know what choice is right.”

“I don’t–I don’t want to make a mistake…” You said through sobs.

“(Y/n), the only thing worse than staying or going, is you holding your breath and being indecisive. You have to make a choice. Decide.”

You couldn't think of how to act on your mother’s advice back then, but in the present, you understood. You squinted in the dark and looked at the time. The clock on your nightstand reads 5:22 AM in bold red letters. You hadn’t even realized you’d been up all night with your thoughts.

You looked over at the man causing you this great affliction. Pale moonlight streamed through the window illuminated his heart-shaped face. You once thought of him to be a monster, but he wasn’t. He was just human. And for once, you finally sorted your feelings about him. You weren’t in limbo anymore.

You knew your decision:

Leave him | Choose him

[annymation]

The Kingdom of Wishes- A “Wish” Rewrite

Chapter 2- Asha's Big Day

Please read Chapter 1 before this one.

Asha wakes up with the first rays of sunshine coming out of the window hitting her eyes, she blinks a few times as things start coming into focus.

The room she’s in is not the same we saw her in the opening with Sabino, it’s a rustic bedroom with a more detailed built to it, with wood carvings that resemble animals on the walls and furniture, including on a bed next to Asha’s with the name “Dahlia” carved on it.

Also there’s way less of Asha’s drawing hanging on the walls, just a few of her favorite ones. One in particular it’s a drawing of her and Dahlia together, although, Asha’s face doesn’t look exactly how she really is in real life, she still needs more practice with self portraits.

Asha stretches her arms and yawns, waking up a little someone on a little bed next to hers.

And from the tiny bedsheets comes out a baby goat that quickly jumps to her lap excitedly bleating and licking her cheeks.

“Heheheh good morning to you too, Valentino” she says as she hugs him.

"Did you sleep well?" she asks as if the goat could answer, and sure enough, he does

"Maaaa! Maaa!" the baby goat bleats shaking his head positively

"That's good, I slept well too... Although, I had the weirdest dream"

"Maa?" not to brag but I'm writing peak dialogue here the goat raises one eyebrow

"I can't remember much but... I think I saw a boy made of light, and he was trying to tell me something, I couldn't understand what it was… but I feel like he was asking me to not give away something, something important… Weird huh?" She asks her baby goat, who's too busy munching her blanket to pay attention, since ya know, baby's short attention span.

"Yeah, I guess it's just as weird as the fact I ask for advice from a goat hihih" She giggles to herself as she takes the blanket off his mouth, Valentino hops out of the bed jumping around and falling over like:

(Baby goats are so cute, like, how did Disney manage to make a baby goat NOT cute?)

Asha looks at her pet fondly and chuckles a little with his little jumps. But then her smile lessens a bit and she looks out her window, from there she can see the castle, imposing and radiant in the distance.

"Today really is the day, huh?..." She says softly, with a hint of both anxiousness but also hopefulness in her voice

Asha hears something approaching her door, the distinct sound of footsteps, as in, MANY footsteps, and a few whispers like "shhh she might still be sleeping" "be careful with that cake, will ya? It took me all night " "ouch! Simon, that's my foot!" "SHHHH"

Asha smiles, knowing full well who's coming, she waits eagerly for the door to open.

The door opens revealing her friends, all together trying to fit through the door, with Dahlia on the front, and she says:

"Is she awa- OH SHE IS! SHES AWAKE OKAY LETS GO- Happy birthday to-"

They all sing happy birthday as they get in, some more gracefully than others since Gabo just tripped over Valentino and fell on the floor, he's clearly very angry about that.

Hal rushes over to Asha holding a purple birthday cake with one candle, she's smiling widely and singing louder and more beautifully than everyone else. (She did have the best singing voice of the 7, in my opinion)

Meanwhile Dario is struggling to balance a tower of 7 presents, all of different colors and sizes, he manages to catch some with his feet before they fell on the floor, he’s pretty much performing a balancing act.

Simon stops in the middle of the song to give a big yawn.

Safi sneezes because of the smoke from the candle.

Bazeema is singing veeeeery quietly and clapping her hands softly.

Asha is overjoyed by the surprise "Awww guys! Thank you so much! Dahlia, this cake looks amazing!" She says looking at a beautifully decorated cake

If you wanna picture it lets say it’s just like the unbirthday cake from Alice in Wonderland, but purple.

"You're welcome!" Dahlia replied, very proud of herself "I guess when your little sis is an assistant at the royal kitchen you get some perks, am I right? hihi" Obviously they're not actually sisters but since Asha has been living with Dahlia and her parents they treat each other as if they were.

"We are soooo happy for you Asha!" Hal exclaims "You'll finally get a wish! this is so exciting!" She starts jumping up and down with the cake, Gabo quickly takes it off of her hands, annoyed by her recklessness.

Bazeema shyly and quietly remarks "yes, you deserve it more than anyone Asha, after all the kindness you spread to others" she has a big smile on her lips.

Asha puts her hand behind her neck smiling awkwardly "I mean, it's not really that big a deal, I think I'll just wish for something small"

Gabo, who is placing the cake on the table next to Asha's bed, turns his head abruptly after hearing that "Uuuh haha, excuse me? After 18 years of waiting you just gonna ask for something small? Are you crazy? A wish can change your life for the better, ya know? I ,for example, am gonna wish for a bunch of diamonds and gold" he claims smugly

Simon doesn't seem like he's fully paying attention, but even then he realizes Gabo had an oversight "… Wait, but now that you told us, it won't come true, remember? that's one of the king's rule-"

"THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME SIMON! THAT TOOOTALY DIDN'T JUST RUIN MY DAY" Gabo screams, frustrated by his slip up, because yeah, you CAN'T wish for something that other people know you want, it has to be a secret.

Safi is itching his nose as he claims "I think we all know what Asha is gonna wish for tho"

he glances at Asha's sketchbook that is laying next to her bed

Asha gives him a smug smile "Ooh-ho you think I'll wish to become a better artist? Hehehe nope!"

Dahlia of all people looks the most shocked "What?! Really? Aww that was my bet too, all I see you doing is drawing on that sketchbook everyday"

"And you often complain that you don't feel like they're good enough" Simon adds

"Heheh well yeah, I just don't feel they're quite the same level as my mom's drawings, that's all"

Hal raises her eyebrow as she smiles "Now that's just silly, I've seen you draw Asha, your drawings are AMAAAAZING! Just look!"

Hal grabs Asha's sketch book and starts showing to the others

"H-heey wait! those aren't finished!" Asha stutters, concerned they might see some of her rough and less than perfect drawings

(side note, never look at an artists sketchbook without permission, that's like reading someone's diary)

Asha grabs the notebook back, but sees all her friends staring at her expectedly (except Gabo cause he's still frustrated he'll have to think about a whole new wish) , so she breathes in and shows them.

She goes through the pages showing animals, landscapes, rooms, people, and if this was in the movie maybe some pages could have concept arts, both from wish and from previous Disney movies, as a subtle homage to the artists.

All of them sit next to Asha on the bed as she turns the pages, they're amazed.

"Wooow you've improved so much, Asha" Bazeema says, while giving some excited little claps

"You call that unfinished? then they'll look even better when you're done" Safi commented.

"They look really pretty" Dario communicates using sign language.

"See? I told ya'll" Hal says victorious.

Gabo and Simon look slightly unimpressed. Dahlia has already seen most of those so she has no comments, Asha knows how much she loves her drawings, she even glued some of them on their room.

"Thank you, that means a lot actually... " Asha says while staring at one particular drawing of her grandfather and her on a tree branch, looking up at the stars.

"… Most people say I'm just wasting my time but I really feel like I'm getting better everyday… Although." she flips the pages to show a drawing she made of herself, but the face doesn't fully resembles Asha's (could be a concept art) "I still can't figure out how to draw myself properly."

Gabo seems to try holding his tongue but he let's out anyway "I mean… to be frank, it kinda is waste of time when you think about it"

"Gabo!" Dahlia scolded him

"Hey I'm just saying, why take so much time practicing to be as great of an artist as your mom when you can just wish TODAY to be the best artist ever?" Gabo says frankly.

Asha doesn't really mind Gabo's previous comment, she's used to it, so she just shrugs and explains "Well for one, like Simon said, a wish that other people know about cannot be granted"

"Ugh don't remind me" Gabo facepalms, still angry by his own mistake.

"And second" Asha continues "I just feel more satisfied like this, working hard to improve everyday, even if I don't think my art is perfect just yet, I feel proud of myself every time I improve, and that drives me to keep trying to get better and better."

Simon chuckles at that "Hehe you're an amazing person Asha, but that's one thing I'll never understand, all of that sounds so hard, sometimes it's easier, and smarter, to just...*yaaaawn* take the easy route, ya know?..." As he rambles, Simon starts laying down on Asha's bed without noticing and almost immediately falls asleep.

That doesn't phase the group at all, they're used to it.

Asha closes her sketchbook and starts getting ready for the day "Well not for me, and another thing, if I wished to become a better artist I would forget that wish and my passion about drawing for a little while, and I REALLY don't want that, no, I'm gonna wish for something else." She says while taking off her braids scarf (Like this one, she wears it to sleep)

Hal claps her hands, smiling ear to ear "You go Asha! make a wish that counts! Now... BOYS! OUT! Shoo shoo! Get out of here, this is a girls only zone" She says pushing Dario, Gabo and Safi out the door

(Yes Hal, please get them OUT, I can't keep writing dialogue for 8 different people!)

"You too sleepy head, wait with the others downstairs" Dahlia shakes Simon a couple of times to wake him up.

"Uh what- why?" Simon wakes up confused

"Cause' we gotta get the birthday princess ready for her big day" Hal says, while sitting Asha in front of a mirror.

"Princess? Haha what?" Asha asks, holding her laughter

"Why, yes. You're a princess for today! Whatever you say goes, now, let's get your birthday hair done!" Hal says excited, while Asha grabs from a drawer some silver beads to decorate her braids.

"I can help you pick up a dress" Bazeema says quietly

"Heheh you all are too much" Asha says with a smile

(I just realized while writing this that Valentino kinda just vanished, didn't he?... Okay let's say he went downstairs after Gabo tripped on him, there, crisis averted)

Dahlia walks holding something behind her back and coughs a little as if to clear her throat, but really it's just to get their attention "If you think this is too much, wait till you see EVERYTHING else we've planned for today"

Asha gives Dahlia a knowing look with a smile "You made a list, didn't you?"

"You bet!" Dahlia reveals a long list that hits the floor with a step by step plan of all the activities they'll do the whole day.

"First! We gonna eat my cake for breakfast, yay! Then! We'll visit the royal garden, Bazeema has spent months preparing a small garden of Purple Hyacinths just for you"

Asha gasps "Those are my favorite flowers!"

"hihihi I know" Bazeema says giggling bashfully

Dahlia continues "Of course, Safi won't go with us to that because of-"

"AAA AAAAACHOOOOO!"

They hear from downstairs.

"... That, so to make it up to him, the next event is at his house where we gonna play our instruments the whooole morning"

"But I don't play any instruments" Asha says, her hair fully ready while she takes a dress Bazeema picked up for her.

"No problem, you can just dance and sing." Dahlia says "And then after that we have lunch and finally when it's sunset we go to the wish ceremony! So, what do you think?"

"That all sound's amazing" Asha says coming from behind a room divider (ya know those wood curtain like things that people use to dress up behind them?) now dressed in a purple dress, with a few star details embroidered on the base.

"Great!" Dahlia says "Because that's just the first part of the list, we got a filled day ahead-"

"You do indeed" Dahlia is interrupted by a new voice coming from behind the door "Good morning girls, may I come in?"

"Oh! Sure thing mom" Dahlia says opening the door

We see a woman that looks a lot like Dahlia but, of course, older, and wearing a dress that is composed only of muted shades of blue from top to bottom.

"Morning ms. Hayashi" Asha waves to her cheerfully.

"Good morning Asha, happy birthday" the woman says with a smile then redirects her attention to her daughter "Dahlia, I need your help, the King and Queen's wedding anniversary is in 2 days and the queen didn't like the cake recipe I came up with, I need to test a new recipe as soon as possible, so go to the market and buy me these ingredients." she hands Dahlia a grocery list.

"Wh- but mom I told you I'd be dizzy- I-I mean busy today” Dahlia replaces words when she’s nervous the same way Doc did constantly in Snow White “it's Asha's birthday, and this list is huge, it'll take me too long and mess up our whole schedule"

"I can help you" Asha chimed in

"whAT- OH NO YOU WON'T YOUNG LADY!" Dahlia exclaims pointing a finger at her

Hal and Bazeema are just in the background watching now

"Young lady? I'm officially older than you, remember? hehehe" Asha jokes

"Don't get funny with me you little ray of sunshine! You're turning 18 today, I won't have you spend your birthday in a carpet- I MEAN market!"

"Umm we can help too" Bazeema says meekly.

"Yeah, and the boys too, so we can get it done faster" Hal adds

"Huh? but-but our plan though" Dahlia points to the list

"Anywhere I spend with you guys it's special, then, after we're done buying what your mom needs, we can go to the royal garden, and then to Safi's house" Asha reassures her friend

".... *sigh* fiiiiiine, we'll help you, mom" Dahlia bemoaned, very frustrated with the change in plans.

"Thank you girls, please be back before sunset" She starts walking down the hallway

Then, Dahlia remembers something

"oh OH WAIT- Bazeema, grab a book that is under my bed please!" she asks her friend, since it's more difficult for her to bend down with her crutch and overall her mobility disabilities.

"Um alright" Bazeema grabs an old book that is almost falling apart, it has "family recipes" on the cover "This one?"

"That's the one. mom! mom!!" Dahlia walks up to her mom and shows her the book "Look what I found under the food cabinet last week~"

Her mom looks surprised "Huh... I haven't seen this in years"

"You said you wanted to test a new recipe, weeeell this book has a lot of cool recipes I've never heard about before! And I'm sure King Magnifico and Queen Amable would think so too!" She opens the book, it has hand written recipes in both English, Spanish and Japanese "By the way, how come you never told me about this?"

Asha and the other two look at them talking and Asha notices how Dahlia's mom looks... Indifferent to this book that is apparently a family relic, with recipes from her native culture, surely she'd at least feel nostalgic by it, would't she?

"That's nice sweetie, but that's not the type of food your majesties would like, I only make meals for them, remember?" she says in a very detached way, almost robotic.

Dahlia looks disappointed "Oh... Okay... Then maybe you can teach me later?" Dahlia asks, hopeful.

"... I don't think I'll have the time dear, I have way too much work already at the castle, besides, there's nothing interesting in that book anyway" she explains, clearly not caring at all.

Her mother leaves, Dahlia hugs the book tightly.

... Well that was weird wasn't it? I'm sure it's not foreshadowing anything...

Anywaaaay that's enough of a scene on Asha's bedroom, let's move this along.

We cut to the gang splitting up at the plaza, each one going to a different sales stall.

It's our first look in the actual kingdom, and it is... Exactly like it was in the actual Wish movie, only notable difference is that the sculptures and paintings on the walls and floors are no longer only of king Magnifico, there are images of the king AND queen all over the place.

And most people are dressed head to toe with muted shades of blue, white and yellow. Younger people like kids, teenagers and Asha and her friends stand out because they dress up with more varied and bright colors... Except for Simon, whose clothes are more of a muted bluish green and white... I'm sure that doesn't mean anything tho.

Asha and Dahlia are picking some fruits together, and Asha notices how Dahlia looks upset and deep in her thoughts.

"I'm sorry your mom is too busy, if you want we can try making those recipes together later" Asha says trying to comfort her best friend

"Huh what?" She snaps out of her train of thoughts "Oh that? pffft That was fine, I'm used to it, she and my dad... Always prioritize working for the king" she looks clearly frustrated.

Asha places a hand on her shoulder, concerned.

Dahlia glances at her friend and takes some deep breaths

"But yeah... I'd like to try making them with you, that'd be nice" She smiles at her friend and holds her hand "But hey enough about me, this is YOUR day! So, excited to have your wish granted? humm? hmm?" Dahlia is back to her bubbly self, trying to lighten the mood

"Honestly? I'm excited because after today I won't have the expectation of MAKING a wish at all" Asha says sounding almost relieved just thinking about it.

Dahlia looks confused "Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't you feel it? Like everyone expects you to have this--like-- GREAT goal you want to reach more than anything, that something you can't wait to wish for King Magnifico, and if you don't have it everyone thinks you have no ambition? Well, I don't have that something, I just want a simple life." Asha explains like this is something she has been holding inside for a while.

"... Sis, you lost me" Dahlia chuckles a little "You can wish for anything, doesn't have to be grand at all, and that won't CHANGE your life, if anything it'll just make it better." she says trying to reassure her friend even though she doesn't understand her struggle

Asha is smiling but there's a hint of sadness in her eyes, knowing her best friend doesn't understand how she feels, so she tries changing the subject "Yeah... It sure didn't make Simon happy, did it?"

"What do you mean?" Dahlia asks while buying some apples

"The droopy eyes, the constant yawning, the fact we gotta cary a pillow for him everywhere we go because he might literally collapse from exhaustion out of nowhere" Asha lists it like it's obvious (because it kinda is)

"Ah he explained that to us before, remember? Since the day he turned 18 his dad has been more strict with their training, so he can be the next captain of the royal guard. Sometimes Simon just doesn't get enough sleep"

"I know… I guess that makes sense, kinda" Asha looks down, thinking about how Simon reminds her a lot of her grandfather... But Simon is literally 21, he should NOT be acting and feeling like a man that died when he was 100, that's not right, regardless of how terrible his dad is.

"Okay I gotta ask" Dahlia interrupts her thoughts "Do you even know what you'll be wishing for, because I somehow got a feeling you don't know yet" her best friend looks at her suspiciously.

"Oh ya know, just something simple. Something that won't change my life at all-"

That comment caught the attention of a nearby juggling performer who was entertaining some children near the market, he stops what he's doing and rushes over towards the two girls while doing some cartwheels.

"After all the only one who can change my life is m-"

"MAGNIFICO GRANTS NO "SIMPLE WISH", CHILD" the jester exclaims interrupting Asha as he points his finger to her face.

"Oh- Hello there" Asha looks surprised but she can kinda already tell where this is going

Because now, it's song time!

This is a concept lyric still, with no specific instrumentals nor established rhythm yet, just inspired by "Keep your friends close" From Epic: The Musical. But in the future the song may have it's own instrumentals, with the help of @annamations03

But for now, just read these lyrics like a poem and try to imagine the vibes.

I Made A Wish

Lyrics in bold white are sang by background characters

(Jester) Child, are you not in the know? How can one not dream to have anything they wish for? Why, you’d end up hopeless and alone! But! if you’re in need of assistance Perhaps a jester with no persistence Can show just how wondrous is this kingdom we call home!

Ha ha ha I made a wish! Yes, I was as young as you! Then your majesty made me into something new Back then I was shy— You? I know, right? But now I bring joy to all of those around!  See, it’s that simple, no need to think so much! Just look within and a wish can be found And our dear king will bring in his magic touch! Yes yes, I know how this works I’ve been living here since birth But the thing is that I don’t see any perks… Sounds like you lack self-worth What? Ha ha ha I made a wish! And my light shone brighter! Whatever you want is what you’ll get! Show some gratitude, kid, don’t you wanna be wiser? Just forget with no regret! Ummm 'Cause why would ya take the hardest route? When dreams coming true here is more than allowed So make a wish too, for your life to turn around! Whatever you want is what you’ll get! (Whatever you want is what you’ll get) (Asha Talking)  Thank you for the advice, but… I still think I can make my dreams come true on my own, I'll just  give him a simple wish because it's tradition. (Jester, still singing) *sigh*  Alrighty then, but don't forget That's something you might regret. (Dahlia Talking) Okaaaay now that THATS over,  let's go meet up with the others … Hey, this is the day for you to make YOUR wish. Doesn't matter what anyone else says that wish should be like, okay? … *Breathes in* *breathes out* Okay! Let's go!

(Asha and her friends are on their way to Safi's house to play instruments together, Asha looks around listening to background characters singing as they walk)

(Random Citizens)  I made a wish, and the king made it all better! Whatever you want is what you'll get (Whatever you want is what you'll get) Here in Rosas we got no worries, no pressure Just forget with no regret (Just forget with no regret) 'Cause in a world so cruel and unjust We can trust our dreams won't get crushed, so I made a wish, and I don't regret it! Just forget with no regret (Just forget with no regret)

(They get to Safi's house and start playing instruments together, Asha dances but internally she's very conflicted, and we get a glimpse of what's going on inside her head as she sings to herself while still listening to her friend's voices faintly. She recollects about her grandfather, and how he never remembered what his wish was.)

(Asha) It's my day, so they say  Make a wish that you won't regret Well, I know it may not go this way Cause' when you made a wish, all you got was to forget (7 teens) Today 's your day! Will the same happen to me once I wish away? To celebrate you! And what even is this wish I wanna pursue? Now it's your time Time step up those stairs and do what's expected Now it's your time You all are the only ones who I truly feel connected Now it's your time Can't I just stay here Please, let me stay here Now it's your time (????) Now it's your time

(Asha looks confused, a voice she doesn't recognize echoed in her head. But she has no time to question it, because Gabo just realized... The sun is setting.)

(Gabo) It's time… GUYS! It's time! It's wish ceremony time! (Everyone) LET' S GO! (7 Teens): We gotta go, we gotta go, we gotta go (Asha): I know, I know, I know, I know

(Citizens sing the main chorus as they run to the castle, we cut to the wish ceremony, and we see Asha and her friends getting there, just in time for the king's entrance, with a huge puff of green smoke covering the stage, and lighting effects to dazzle the public, we hear the voice of the king of Rosas echo like a thunder, as he jumps out of the smoke.)

HELLOOOOOO ROSAS!

HA HA HA Come on! Come all! It's that time again! Don't be shy now! All you'll do is gain! Just fall in line now! Here's where dreams start! Cause' if I'm your ring master then you are all my stars!

(The king dances around the stage, full of energy as he hypes up the already excited crowd. Meanwhile, queen Amable walks in gracefully and begins to sing melodically as if she's singing a lullaby. Asha is already in the line to give her wish, she's the last in line.)

Ooooh This, my flowers, is our reason for living To see all your wanting be turned into wishing So just come now ,my darlings, and welcome to Rosas Where your yearning comes true, no what-ifs and no wonders

NOW'S TIME FOR THE MAIN EVENT!

(People in line) We forget with no regret All he got was to forget What we want is what you'll get I'll finally get my wish I'll make a simple wish With just a magic swish

Oh I can't wait for it! Oh I can't wait to end this! Oh I can't wait to grant it!- ...

This last part is like the end of "We Don't Talk About Bruno" where characters sing all at the same time, and we see Asha slowly approaching the king and queen more and more as the line keeps getting smaller and smaller the more people give away their wishes, Asha's turn is approaching, and then...

She's right in front of Magnifico, he stands his hand to get her wish, she takes a deep breath and... she thinks on her wish.

...

Nothing happens.

...

The song ends abruptly.

...

Asha opens her eyes expecting to see a wish bubble.

...

All she sees is Magnifico's hand.

...

The whole crowd goes quiet. Magnifico and Amable exchange a quick confused glance to one another.

"... Is anything wrong, little one?" The king asks, staring at her expectingly but still with a very calm smile.

Asha get's nervous, she can feel everyone's eyes on her.

"I- I'm sorry your highness, I might not be focusing on it hard enough... Is it supposed to be hard?" She looks up to them both looking for some guidance.

The queen notices the girl's anxiety and gives her a soothing caress on her shoulder "Do not fret my flower, it's different for everyone, you can take aaall the time you need" She says in a motherly tone.

That does help Asha calm down a little bit, but she still can't manifest her wish no matter how hard she tries.

"Hmmm" Magnifico ponders for a moment "Say, how about you just whisper what you wish for to me?"

"... But isn't that against the rules?" Asha asks

The king can't help but chuckle at that "Well, I'll know what your wish is either way so of course the "Keep your wish a secret" rule doesn't apply to me. Come now, I promise I won't judge." He speaks in a soothing tone and a welcoming smile.

Asha hesitates for a moment, but she steps closer to the king, who's now leaning down to be on the same level as her so she can whisper in his ear.

She whispers something and...

Magnifico's face contorts from a gentle smile to a dumbfounded frown with his eyebrows raised all the way up.

The queen is staring at them puzzled, what could she wish for that threw him out of the loop so quickly?

As they slowwwwly distance themselves, the king and Asha are now staring at each other, the king still leaning down to her eye level... He whispers to her:

"... Why on earth would you wish for high grass to grow on your backyard?" the king questions like she's insane.

Asha whispers back

"... Because my pet goat likes to eat high grass... A lot... Your majesty" she adds that last part like she almost forgot to address him formally.

The king stares at her for a few seconds, that to Asha felt like it were minutes.

His smile returns to his face though, so that's good right?

But the smile turns into quiet snickering, as if the king is trying really hard to hold in a huge uncontrollable laughter, but he has to hold it in, can't lose his composure like that in front of his subjects.

Asha did have a wish in that moment, she wished the floor would eat her up so she could escape this embarassment.

Everyone in the crowd, and the queen as well, looks shocked at the king's reaction.

Magnifico takes some deep breaths and calms down.

"Oh my... hahah that's a good one, thank you, I needed a laugh today... oof okay okay I'm good, *cough* now come on, what's your actual wish?" He asks her again cheerfully

"... It wasn't a joke my king, I just have a simple wish, really." she explains with her voice sounding meek

The king realizes his mistake...

"Wait... Has no one ever told you?" The king asks her, raising one eyebrow.

"Told me what?"

"Well eh- now how can I put this... I believe you might misunderstand what I actually DO, my dear" The king starts explaining

"... Misunderstood what?" Asha is very concerned with what the answer may be

The king starts walking around Asha, circling her while he explains, similar to a teacher lecturing a child "You see... People who come here don't wish for simple mundane things, although yes, I have gotten a few who, like you, thought they could just wish to "Dance on beat" or "Have hair that touch down on their feet"... Which was very odd may I add- But the point is that my magic is not made to grant those wishes."

Asha can already feel her heart sink, she's starting to understand where the king is going with this, but she holds some hope it's not what she think's it is

"So umm..." Asha shyly asks "What kind of wishes DO you grant?"

The king looks at her with a big radiant smile as he answers her qauestion

"The ones that matter, of course! The wish that comes from deeeep inside that big heart of yours, your main goal in life! To put it simply, my child, what you must give me is the wish that makes you... well... YOU!" The king claims passionately, his demeanor full of enthusiasm like he's describing the most beautiful thing in the world.

That's it... That's exactly what Asha was afraid he'd say.

She CAN'T give him this wish because she doesn't know WHAT THAT WISH IS!

And even if she did know for sure... She doesn't want to hand it to him... That wish... whatever it is, it's HERS.

Her father used to write about how important it is to chase after what you wish for, how is she gonna chase after something Magnifico is just gonna hand to her, where's the fun in that?

Also, is this common knowledge?? How come no one ever told her she had to give to the king the most essential part of herself???People are just okay with that???? Do all those 18 year olds that came before her already have that figured out?????

(Technically the Jester did tell her, but she didn't think he was for real, the lesson is, take clowns seriously)

"Hey! Are you listening? Helloooo?" Asha is snapped out of her own thoughts by the king literally snapping his fingers in front of her face.

"I- I'm sorry I dozed off for a second... What were you saying, your majesty?"

"We were saying that a wish is what makes you who YOU are." The queen says patiently "Which begs the question, my dear...

Who are you?"

Chapter 3

Final Thoughts

"Asha's Big Day" indeed, this took me the whole day to write lmao

Okay so let me just say, the reason I focused a on Dahlia's mom for bit was because I wanted to introduce how Magnifico's magic is affecting the people of Rosas, besides just Simon who is affected because his wish hasn't been granted yet, unlike him Dahlia's mom DID get her wish granted...

You might know where I'm going with this if you read my blog explaining how I'd rewrite the villains, but if you're new, hi, welcome to the madness, you don't have to read how'd rewrite them if you'd rather be surprised by the twist.

Oh, and you surely don't have to worry about what's the symbolism behind a purple hyacinths, Asha's favorite flower, there sure is no meaning to that.

hehe

Also I legit laughed to myself for several minutes thinking about how I builded up Asha's wish the whoooooole chapter

AND IT TURNS OUT ALL SHE WANTED TO WISH FOR WAS GRASS

FREAKIN

GRASS

She must be protected at all cost.

Alrighty, hope you’ve enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, see you guys on the next chapter!

Thank you for reading!

[ilovetheriddler]

lars + reader = there was only one bed trope

Yes!!! Oh my gosh. I wasn't really sure whether you wanted this to be more fluff or smut, so i just went kind of in the middle of the two! I hope that you enjoy it!

Close Contact.

(Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire) Lars Pinfield x F!Reader.

Word Count: 957.

Contents: Fluff, nervousness, love confessions, kissing, very suggestive content, but no actual smut.

You were quite excited, You and Lars had been sent to the next town over to investigate some intense ghost activities and hopefully take care of the problems they had been causing. This would mark both of the two of your guys' first trip out of town for Ghostbuster related work.

The day was extremely overwhelming. All in all, the two of you ended up capturing around 13 different ghosts. that was definitely pushing the amount that you could with the traps you had on hand. It was already getting really late, and with how tired you both were, you weren't exactly sure you should be driving home. The best option was to simply rent a room to stay in for the night at the nearest motel.

However, the moment you walked into the room, you stopped dead in your tracks. There was only one bed... Oh. This couldn't be... you couldn't share a bed with Lars! Mainly because you secretly harbored romantic feelings for him that you didn't think he'd return. Lars stopped briefly as well as he made his way into the room, glancing at the bed for a moment before ultimately setting his bag down.

"Well, this will be a bit of a tight squeeze, won't it?"

"Um... y-yeah.... It seems so..."

"I'm going to go ahead and take my shower then, unless you wanted to go first?"

"I'll probably just wait and take one in the morning..."

Lars excused himself to the bathroom to take his shower, and while he did that, you internally spiral over this ridiculous one bed issue. "This is absurd! I can't sleep next to lars! I can't handle being close to his warm... and soft body... it'll put me into an early grave!!" Needless to say, you were worried.

You were jolted out of your thoughts by the sight of Lars walking out of the bathroom a few minutes later, His hair still a bit damp, wearing a loose long-sleeve shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms. He sat down on his side of the bed and stretched some before turning to look at you slightly concerned.

"Are you alright? You look quite flushed, you don't have a fever, do you?"

"Um... N-no! I mean, I'm fine and I don't have a fever... it's just... really hot! That's it, it's really hot outside!"

".......It's winter."

".....A-and?! What's your point?"

Lars let out a slightly frustrated sigh before he decided that it would be best to drop it. But he was going to keep a check on you during the night just to make sure you weren't sick.

As the night went on, you both laid wide awake, your heart practically beating out of your chest from nerves. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. He then leaned in closer next to your ear, his voice low and curious in tone.

"I've been meaning to ask you something...."

"H-huh? Um... What is it?"

"....Do you have romantic feelings for me?"

You nearly felt your heart stop at his question. How could he know?! You thought that you had done a fairly decent job at hiding your feelings, yet here he was, reading you like an open book!

"I... um... well...."

He chuckled slightly at your flustered state, raising his hand and resting it on your cheek, caressing it.

"God, you're just so adorable when you're all flustered like this...."

"...Y...yes... I might have um... feelings for you..."

He was silent for a moment, and then you were taken off gaurd when he suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. It was sweet and gentle at first, but it slowly started to heat up more, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, exploring the area with a level of need that's a bit overwhelming. A muffled moan slipped from your lips as his hands started moving down your body.

You buried your fingers into his soft, fluffy hair, relishing in the pleased sound that he let out in response. He finally pulled away slightly, allowing you both to regain some air into your lungs before his lips made their way down to your neck. Kissing and sucking lightly before biting down hard enough to leave a clear mark.

"A-ah! L-lars! I...I um..."

"Hmm?"

He gently pushed you to lie back on the bed, getting on top of you, his eyes appearing half lidded as he regarded you underneath him. He ran his hand along your side before carefully slipping it under your shirt before suddenly stopping. He moved off of you and sat up, adjusting his glasses and running his hand through his hair. He let out a sigh before he spoke.

"Listen, Darling, I love you as well, I do... but I don't exactly want the first time we have sex to be in a rundown motel... you know?"

"I understand what you mean... there's not really any rush for us to um... you know, be like that right this moment, I mean, I literally just confessed my feelings! We might be trying to go a bit too fast...."

"Yeah, I'm sorry if I might have come on a bit too strong... it's just that I've felt this way about you for quite some time now, and I was just so overwhelmed when you actually told me that you love me... that I may have gone a bit overboard...."

"Hehe... it's alright, I can't really complain about your affection, after all... I've wanted to have it for a fairly long time...."

He laid back down next to you and pulled you into his arms so you could rest your head against his chest.

"Well, that's good to know... Goodnight, my love..."

[buckgasms]

Kinktober: Beauty and the Beast - part two

I did a thing! It's going to need another part because oh lord this is a complex beast I've created for myself.

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think!

The next day Bucky came to find you in one of the many parlours, dusting with some vigour, your eyes puffy but you still looked beautiful.

"Ahem... I uh... Would... Would you come with me?" He seemed unsure but his voice still felt like a command, so you paused your work and followed him.

You walked quietly along the corridor behind him until he came to a stop outside a room you had never been in before.

"Before we go in, I wanted to apologise for what I said yesterday. My behaviour, it was... Beastly. Anyway, I hope this will make up for my behaviour..."

He pushes open the door and you gasp, as an enormous library is revealed to you. It's a little dusty, but you can't help but squeal as you see walls upon walls of books, of every genre you could dream of.

You turned to look at him, a smile spreading wide across your face.

"It's yours, I never get around to reading anyway, I feel you'll make better use of it than me..."

He smiles and you pull him into a hug before you realise what you are doing. You pull away, as you both awkwardly chuckle.

"Anyway, I'll leave you to enjoy..."

He left and you felt a little warmer, releasing the breath you didn't realise you'd been holding.

🥀

As time went on, you spent less time apart. As the house became more liveable, Bucky ventured into more places, just to spend time around you.

He was a prolific writer, and the sound of his scribbling became the soundtrack to your cleaning. Unbeknownst to you, he would steal glances at you as you flitted about the room, occasionally commenting on things out of place, or tutting when you found a stubborn stain. He couldn't take his eyes off of you when your hair fell from your bun and framed your face, the setting sun streaming through the windows, giving you a golden aura.

After dinner, now spent more calmly together, you would take a book from your library and join him in the parlour. He told himself that as the winter months drew in, it made sense to light a fire and share a room together. He told himself that it was normal to feel this way...

You interrupted his thoughts by coming to take a seat curled up next to him, an old book in your hand.

"Bucky look, it's a first edition!"

You forgot yourself a little bit as you squashed up closer to him and handed him the book, his fingers brushing against yours as he turned the pages of the book.

"Um... It's really beautiful isn't it?"

"Hmm yes it is."

But he wasn't looking at the book.

🥀

One night you were drifting off to sleep when you heard a long, loud, scream. You froze in your bed, terrified for a moment, when another followed, strangled and deep.

But you realised, this wasn't a threatening noise, but of fear. Against your better judgement, you moved out of bed, grabbing your robe and dashing down the hallways.

Outside Bucky's room you waited a moment, holding your breath, debating whether to move until another cry came from the other side of the door.

Pushing gently, you called out his name. The light of the moon filled the room, spotlighting the bed, where he lay, tangled up in sheets, sweat covering his brow and chest.

You called his name again, a little louder as you got nearer. He quietened a little but still held fast to sleep. Eventually you perched on the edge of his bed and gently gripped his arm, shaking gently.

"Bucky please wake up? It's me..."

Suddenly he lashed out, yelling as his eyes shot open. You managed to jump away as he adjusted to being awake.

"Who's there? What do you want...!"

"Bucky it's me... It's me. You were having a nightmare..."

His eyes scanned around the room until he saw you, standing nervously at the end of his bed.

"Beauty? I was... Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you..." You could see the pain in his face at the thought of upsetting you, so you stepped bravely back to the bed and settled down near him, your hand dangerously close to his.

"It's ok. I was just worried about you. You sounded in pain..."

He cleared his throat and adjusted his blankets that had gotten very twisted in his panic.

"Just some leftovers from the war" he says, tapping his head with a metal finger. You smile and take his other hand in yours.

"Let me help you..." You stand up and pull the blankets away from him, straightening them and pulling out all the twists. You blushed when you realised he was only wearing underpants in bed, but luckily he didn't spot you in the moonlight.

You draped the sheets over him and watched him settle before he reached out and took your hand.

"Thank you..."

🥀

A new routine settled in for you both. These nightly visits, a few times a week, where you would come to his room, soothe his fears and resettle him before he could go back to sleep.

More and more though, he would share his nightmares, and tell you about the stories of war, that changed him so much.

He spoke of trenches and mud. Friends who were there one day and gone the next. The trauma of losing his arm.

You were devastated when he told you about his return to the village. His neighbours and friends began to ignore him. His scars and arm an unwelcome reminder of the war they all wanted to forget. Or of the families they had lost.

That he could almost bare. But they still wanted him to fund everything. They wanted the Barnes Foundation, now lead by Bucky, to support the town. They just refused to speak to him, to look him in the eye or give him the time of day.

So he started to refuse them. To shut them out and ignore them too. He didn't care if the whole town fell apart, it wasn't his fault, it was theirs.

It was horrible to see his bitterness, when you felt in your heart that Bucky wasn't like that really. He was hurting and in pain. But he was still good at heart, surely.

One night you were talking so late, that you ended up falling asleep in his bed, curled up again beside him.

You opened you eyes to find the sun had risen and you saw him sleeping peacefully next to you. You felt you should leave before he woke, but you watched him for a moment.

He was very handsome, but his face was hidden by a messy, unkempt beard, knotted and tangled. His lips were a deep red, and although he was a natural frowner, there was a slight curve to them when he spoke to you.

His cheeks had very little freckles that you could only see this close. His skin, even under all the messy hair, looked soft and quite.... Kissable.

You decided to get out of bed before you did anything ridiculous. This man was holding you captive essentially... You should not be thinking about kissing him.

🥀

"Bucky... I have an idea...."

You shuffled into his office and he actually gave a full smile when he saw you come in.

"Oh? What's this idea then Beauty?"

You twiddled with your fingers and nibbled on your lips, until he chuckled and stood from his desk and walked over to you, holding your arms and squeezing.

"Tell me..."

You pressed your hands on his chest gently and smiled.

"Well, I was wondering... Maybe you would start feeling a little better if you looked a little more like your old self?"

He cocked a bushy eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Are you saying this isn't a good look for a reclusive man having a nervous breakdown?"

You giggled and pulled at the lapels of his housecoat. "It's perfect for that, but I think maybe you could just try a different look?"

He chuckles and looks at you with a discerning eye. "What would you suggest then Beauty?"

You curled a matted lock around your finger and suggested raised your eyebrows. "I think a nice haircut and a beard trim would be an excellent start."

"You don't have to go mad, just enough to feel a bit more like this guy...."

You tilt your head to a picture of Bucky with his parents, standing proud between them. Hair slicked back and beard short and tidy, dazzling in a suit and bowtie.

"Hmm. Haven't seen that guy for a long time..." He looked a little unsure but you place your hands on his shoulders and squeeze.

"I'd love to meet him one day James..."

🥀

He called for you. Your name echoing through the corridors a little while after dinner. You glided through the halls until you found him standing in the bathroom, a razor on the side and a slightly wild look in his eyes.

"I don't know.... I don't know what, or if I can do this..."

"Oh James... You don't have to...." You said, coming in and standing next to him, watching him in the mirror, talking his arm and wrapping your arms around his.

"No I want to. I should... It's just... A lot..."

"Can I help you? I could do it for you?"

He scoffed a little, "You can shave a beard?" You giggle and poke his ribs, "I have given my father a ton of haircuts and shaves in my time. It'll be easy."

He huffs, leaning against the counter and you a little.

"Ok...but will you stop if it gets too much..."

You lean your head against his shoulder and look at him. "For either of us. Yes, I promise..."

🥀

You send him away and run a bath, nice warm water and whatever nice scents you could find in the bathroom, hoping some bubbles will cover the lower half of him while you work.

Finally you call him back and he comes in sheepishly, and you, with faux confidence, encourage him into the tub, looking away as he clambers in.

Suddenly you wonder if this is absolutely insane, but when you turn around you see him looking vulnerable and uncomfortable and all you want to do is help him.

"Ok just relax and I'll take care of everything alright?"

He settles down a little and you use a jug to rinse his hair. You work slowly but surely, getting rid of all the knots and tangles before you slowly start snipping at the dead locks.

You encourage him to talk, my just little things but you know he's happy if he's talking. Occasionally you add more warm water and bubbles to avoid a chilly man moaning at you.

Finally his hair is cut and his beard is clean, ready for a trim. You move round, sitting on the edge of the tub and pop your finger under his chin, tilting his head towards you.

"You ready?"

He grins and nods, closing his eyes as you start trimming and clipping until his sharp jawline reappears. It doesn't take long before you have revealed a very new looking Bucky.

"There, see what you think..."

He opens his eyes and glances in the mirror which he can see from where he sits in the tub. He blinks a few times, shocked to see himself in a way he hasn't for a good long time.

"Jesus..."

He runs a hand over his face before smoothing his hair back. He glances at you, sitting nervously on the side as you await his judgement.

"I do look like me again... Wow Beauty... I can't believe it..."

You toss the clippers to one side and chuckle as he admires himself in the mirror. "Alright handsome, don't get stuck in there admiring yourself too long ok?"

What you didn't expect was for him to grab you hand and pull you, in an innocent attempt to say thank you. What he didn't expect was for you to fall backwards as his pull was a little harder than he planned.

So you ended up crashing off the side of the bath into the lukewarm water, flat out on top of naked Bucky.

"Oh my god!" You cry out and do your best to get out, but the water and a roaring Bucky doesn't help.

"Beauty I'm sorry..." He pants between laughter as you groan and yelp as you struggle, until he decides the only way to calm you down is to do what he was hoping to do anyway.

He grips your face gently and pulls you towards him, pressing a kiss to your lips. You stop moving and gasp, gripping the edge of the bath as you stare at him.

"Oh..."

He smiles. And you smile.

And you lean in and kiss him again.

[randomfoggytiger]

Collector's Edition: Unseasoned Agents-- Early Love and Miraculous Do-Overs

(Dedicated to @doctor-caparty~)

Season 1 Mulder and Scully meet, fall in love, partner, marry, or parent in a variety of different ways, be it close enough to fudge canon or far enough to redo it.

Season 1 Canon Divergence

@swinging-stars-from-satellites/bravest_person_in_Wonderland's

never learned to read your mind (Tumblr) and Part 2

She'd said he's the only one she trusts; he wants to trust her, but he can't make sense of her.

"I'm here for you, Mulder, not aliens or conspiracies," she says quietly, her voice steely. "I wouldn't put myself on the line for anyone but you."

He whips around and stares at her in shock. They aren't even partners, and she insists that's how it should be. But he sometimes wonders where they would be if she'd stuck around.

Scully leaves after the events of Deep Throat, drifting back after her father's death before eventually becoming Mulder's go-to pathologist and ride-or-die contact.

Sukie Tawdry's The Way Things Are (1) and The Way Things Are (2)

"You missed a spot," Mulder said, pointing to a smudge of tomato sauce on the back of a dish.

"Thanks." She dunked the dinner plate back into the soapy water. This was truly bizarre--washing up after dinner like an old married couple. If she didn't dwell on the details of an unwilling father, unwed pregnancy and unpleasant abduction, she and Mulder could be almost normal.

Post Miracle Man Scully and Mulder fall into bed together-- against her (and his) better judgment-- after a stressful case; and can't escape the consequences of one inebriated night: namely, an ensuing, accidental pregnancy, Mulder's enemies creating havoc and indecision, and an undeniable romance hurtling at full speed.

@agentwhalesong/sadandangstyagent’s (Ao3) In Vino Veritas

“You don’t fully trust me yet,” she lets out in a low voice.

He seems caught by surprise by her words because he immediately looks back at her.

“Of course I do.”

"Prove it, then," she dares, although smiling a little.

“Just tell me how.”

S1 Mulder and Scully celebrate her birthday after another monster case; and uncover a few things about each other during a light-hearted game of 'Two Truths'.

herewebloodygo's making this off(ish)icial

Mulder was excited.

         Too excited. It was starting to worry Scully, that expression of his: the slightly too-wide grin, teetering on the verge of goofy, tongue tucked in the corner of his cheek. She didn’t let her eyes trace that smile further. Not when it meant dealing with Fox Mulder’s dimples. That, she’d learned the hard way, was a post-ten o’clock job. In a pinch, post-caffeine at the very least.

S1 Mulder surprises Scully with an office nameplate; and she surprises him by acting on her feelings.

IStanYouStan5676's Hungry

“Anything I want?” He responds immediately with an adorable smile.

“Within reason,” she teases and she sees a hint of surprise and embarrassment flash across his face.

“Lasagna.”

She cocks her head slightly.

“That was fast.”

“It was my favorite comfort food when I was a kid.” He shrugs.

S1 Scully surprises Mulder with two facts: that she can cook, and that she is inviting him to prove it.

SailorStarDust1 's Hear The Rain Fall

After a moment passed, she spoke in a muffled daze, “I don't know why I did that.” He startled at her being awake, but she turned slightly so he could notice her smile. “But...I like you, too.”

Long car rides, late nights, and a tired post Beyond the Sea Scully lead to broken down barriers, late night confessions, and more.

Season 1 AUs

Jessica Zyvarek Taylor's Waitress

"Are you still open?" He looked as if he was having the worst day of his life. And he was cute. Even if he had a girlfriend.

Pre-S1 parttime waitress Scully briefly meets Mulder while he is still in the clutches of one Phoebe Green.

@frangipanidownunder/Frangipanidownunder's A Different Kind of Pilot

“Excuse me,” the woman snaps. Scully stops. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” she says and looks beyond the glare of the agent, one Diana Fowley, according to her name badge, to see Fox Mulder skulking away, jacket over his shoulder, head down.

Pre-S1 Scully is investigating a virus strain uncovered by the X-Files team, disliking Diana and connecting with a discouraged Mulder.

Donna/donnah’s (Gossamer, mulderscreek) Short Encounters (Ao3)

They had spotted him and as always gave him as much space as possible, which meant nearly crushing the little redhead. He saw that and reached for her, moving in her direction. Might as well use his pariah status to protect her. She realized what he had done, even if she didn't understand it, and thanked him with her eyes. He nodded slightly, and a little stiffly. The elevator was unnaturally quiet, but it often was when he took it.

Pre-S1 Mulder and pathologist Scully meet after her detailed work helped break a case.

@thatgirlxf/Thatgirlxf's A Rebound Date (Tumblr)

Scully was just thinking that maybe it’s time for them to have talk and reevaluate their relationship. She is hoping Jack will show up soon as she didn’t have much time left of her lunch hour for she was due back at Quantico for an autopsy at one.

Pre-S1 Scully meets Mulder properly sometime after accidentally spilling coffee on him.

Trixie's (whispersofx, alt. whispersofx) Quissi

Containing a chuckle at the image, Mulder pulled his lower lip between his teeth, debating how much to tell her. “I’m just doing a little investigating independent of the Bureau,” he hedged, going for a half-truth....

Are we soul mates, or two people who just happen to have an above-average working relationship?

“And of me?” she countered, and he could =see= the raised eyebrow.

“Scully, you wound me. It’s not like that at all. If I didn’t want you to know about it, would I be talking to you right now?”

“Yes,” she answered, without missing a beat.

S1? Mulder and Scully work through the trauma caused by her ex-husband Jack Willis (along with her infertility and the responsibility and adoption of Willis's affair child.)

CaptainLyssa's To FBI or Not To FBI

“You own this place,” Scully stated, safe in the sudden knowledge.

Turning his back on the blond behind the bar, he requested, “Shh, don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret,” before suddenly asking, “did you drive here, Dr Scully?”

“It’s just Scully, Fox,” she tested his Christian name. It sounded…wrong somehow. In her mind Dana couldn’t get passed calling him Mulder.

“It’s just Mulder, Scully,” he returned....

Pre-S1 Scully, too short to qualify for the FBI, became an overworked ER doctor... and meets Mulder while they're both commiserating over their jobs. From a first meet at his establishment, they fall into an incredibly fast relationship that gets caught up with Melissa's sixth sense, Mulder's hospitalization, Diana's suspicious return, and Scully's unexpected pregnancy (that may or may not have to do with Mulder's mytharc genes.)

Erin M. Blair's (Ao3)

Key to My Heart

The day arrived when Mulder and Scully came to a final truth. They decided to exchange keys to their respective apartments.

S1 Mulder and Scully swap apartment keys... and more.

Trilogy 01 - The Meeting, Trilogy 02 - The Engagement, Trilogy 03 - The Announcement, Where's Mommy?, How's Katherine?, Tell Me A Story, Positively Yours, and Discovery Of A New Hope

"My brother is visiting, and he wants to meet you," Samantha replied. "Tonight."

"Really?"

"Right now, he works in the FBI but it's been slow lately," Samantha replied.

"Where at?"

"My mother's," Samantha answered.

Although Pre-S1 Scully and Mulder meet through Samantha, she is still assigned. and they still spend the next six years or so juggling an impending marriage, a growing family, a Duane Barry abduction and return, a Fight the Future adventure, and more.

Newfound Love

Samantha looked at her brother and threw herself at him in a trembling hug. "I lost her, Fox. I lost Dana." She paused. "First, I've lost you for most of my life and now I lost her. They are trying to..."0

S2 Samantha and Scully work on the files find Mulder-- who'd been abducted as a boy-- right under their noses. Or, more accurately, Mulder found them.

@mulders-boyish-enthousiasm's (Ao3)

Fox Next Door and Pool time

‘Okay… Mulder. Call me Scully, then,’ she replied tit for tat. ‘What did you say you needed?’   

‘Oh! Right,’ he tousled his hair with his fingers and put his hands in his pockets. ‘Could I borrow some butter please?’ Mulder with a slight hesitation.

She blinked twice and let him in.

Pre-S1 Mulder is Scully's new neighbor, charming his way into her heart by borrowing her butter and scaring her late at night.

JenAndrews's Skyland Mountain (AU)

They lay there in silence for some time. Scully closed her eyes, waiting patiently for her baby to let her know he or she was alright. Mulder stared up at the sky, watching the leaves of the trees sway above him. There were more clouds now then there had been this morning, but the sky was still blue. The sunlight danced through the branches and across his face. The sound of Scully’s breathing, the wind and the birds allowed him to drift away from his body and his pain. The only anchor stopping him from flying away was Scully’s fingers wrapped around him.

S2 Mulder, adrift and hopeless, turns to drugs as a self-destructive coping mechanism...but accidentally runs a very pregnant Scully off the road during his suicide attempt.

@wexleresque/hellsteeth's lost time (Tumblr)

Her hair is redder, vividly so against the chalky pallor of her face, the angles of which are sharper than they had been just yesterday. There are lines where there hadn’t been. Not many, but enough to draw her attention. She looks older.

Turning to Mulder, she sees her own shock and confusion reflected in his expression. Whatever she was going to say dies on her lips as she looks at him more closely.

It’s definitely Mulder, there is no denying it. She’s known him for only a handful of days, but the glint in his eye is unquestionably him. But gone is the springy lock of hair that has been flopping against his forehead for two days and the lankiness she’s come to associate with him invading her space to intimidate her.

Requiem Mulder and Scully return from Bellefleur with amnesia, consequently losing memories of the last seven years. While relearning their professional history from Skinner and her mother-- and, most importantly, the files-- the truth of their personal relationship (and her pregnancy) begins to become undeniable.

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls's

AU where on a drunken night after a stressful case in season 1, M and S end up having sex and Scully gets pregnant.

He rubs a hand over his face, overwhelmed. "I just... I never expected this. I was always afraid that... if I ever had a kid... it'd just be something else they could use against me." Scully does stand now, so calm it almost scares her. She says, "You don't have to be involved, Mulder. I mean that genuinely. We don't work together anymore, this isn't your life..." She can't say she wouldn't miss him, ridiculously so, but she also can't say that she WOULD miss him out loud. "You can walk away," she adds. "I promise I won't hold it against you." He shakes his head so immediately it surprises her, if only because of the shocked, uncertain look on his face. "Or you can stay involved." She extends her hand, takes his and squeezes it. "Think about it, okay?" she offers. "Take some time."

Post Lazarus Mulder and Scully fall into an unspecified relationship... which Little Green Men Mulder and Scully have to confront when she finds out she's pregnant.

in another world - Chapter 22

it happens in vegas, of course, and it happens because of langly and melissa. mulder’s on a trip with the gunmen, following up on some tip they’d gotten, and melissa and dana are on a vacation together. it’s directly following mulder’s breakup with diana, and he’s been moping around the hotel room the entire time; dana is in the midst of stressing over a big test for medical school, and has refused to leave the hotel room so that she can study to the point of driving melissa crazy.

Mulder and Scully meet, marry, and annul in Vegas before they're partnered.

Half-Light Universe

2016

It’s not a question at this point of how many times this has happened, but a question of “is this the time that will do it”. Mulder could try and romanticize it, but there’s nothing there to romanticize. He holds Scully as she bleeds out. And then he’s shot in the back.

Revival Mulder and Scully are shot, snapped out of their hellish universe, being handed a second chance to get their lives right. The mytharc unfolds more reasonably, with the truth coming to light and Samantha making her way home-- hope, healing, and second chances for all.

Five Moments Mulder and Scully Shared (And One They Didn't) (Tumblr)

“Who needs a bed? I think the couch serves our needs perfectly fine.”

“Mulder, I'm not having this argument again. Two full grown adults cannot sleep on a couch every night.”

“Hmph.” He crosses his arms stubbornly. “I say we wait for a water bed to mysteriously appear again.”

“Mulder…”

half-light Mulder and Scully sharing moments in their new life.

miraculous (Tumblr)

When it's over, she knows. More sure than she was before. She hears the earsplitting cry, and she just knows. The doctor holds him up and it's him. Her son.

half-light Mulder and Scully are reunited with their son in a better life, a better world.

luminosity (Tumblr)

She tucks William in, reads two books and kisses him goodnight, leaves the door cracked just like always. She finds Mulder in the kitchen, strangling a Walgreens bag in his hand. “I got it,” he says abruptly, shoving it at Scully.

“Thank you.” She takes the bag and sets it on the counter. “It's okay, Mulder, really,” she says soothingly, putting a hand on his jaw.

“Are you sure?” He's apprehensive, practically bouncing.

“I'm not, but we'll know in a few minutes.” She motions to the bag on the counter. “And besides that, this feels different than when I was sick. It feels the same as it was with William.”

half-light Mulder and Scully are excited for another little miracle.

@defnotmeyo’s (Ao3) Unnamed

She can laugh at him but these punks? One more concentrated burst of laughter and hiding their faces behind their hands and she is going to put them over the bar.

Mulder and Scully overhear two people laughing over his theories... two people who turn out to be the married version of themselves.

HumphreyWrites/sure-fine-skullz/spookysadsophie/s-humphrey/sophie-writes-things/sophiewrites/SophieRobbins’s (Alt. Tumblr) Losing Nine Minutes

“We lost nine minutes, Scully!”

Scully?

She furrowed a brow in confusion and looked down at herself. She was no longer pregnant, in a strange car, and on a strange stretch of highway.

What on earth was happening?

The last thing she remembered was going to sleep with her husband and Emily sandwiched between them because she had a night terror. Fox looked confused, as she studied herself in the car mirror.

Mulder and Scully experience alternate universe versions of each other, briefly; then take their relationship to the next level when reunited (aided by the fact he got her pregnant.)

Neoxphile's (Ao3, mulderscreek) and FelineFemme's Family G-Man, The - Season 01

Instead of answering him right away, the woman reached into her coat and pulled out an envelope. Just an ordinary green one that Christmas cards came in. She thrust it into his hand.

"Here. If you really think you can help them by changing those things about their pasts, open this card when you get home, and read it. As soon as you do you'll get the chance to help them."

Mulder time travels to Season 1, working towards a happier life for Scully: a stable relationship, a family, and no abductions-- though, of course, not without new hiccups or dangers occurring along the way. (The rest of the series can be found located on both authors' pages.)

cgb's Unfamiliar (Jump to the Left Remix)

My name is Fox Mulder, I am thirty-six years old, my sister's name is Samantha, my mother's name is Teena and my father's name is Bill. I live at 2790 Vine Street, Chilmarc, Massattuchetts...

Something isn't right. There's something he's supposed to remember.

He starts again. Fox Mulder starts again:

My name is Fox Mulder, I am thirty-six years old, my sister's name is Samantha, my mother's name is Teena and my father's name is Bill...

His father's name is Bill. That was it. They told him his father wasn't his father.

Mulder is a hybrid on the run; and Scully is an innocent target the Consortium exploits for his destruction.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[thatonequeerk1d]

Sooo I really want to participate in Radioapple week but I hate my art so we're writing thank you @hazbean-hotel-imagines for the idea of doing this format

I would like to mention all the things I'm going to write to are all in the same universe but are not necessarily in chronological order

My AU:

When Lucifer gets stuck on earth he needs to find a way to to get back to at least hell and away from Alastor. After making a deal with this serial killer (Lucifer doesn't know Alastor is a serial killer btw) he's now bound to him. Lucifer needs to get out but... What if he doesn't always want to?

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5 (coming soon)

Day 6 (coming soon)

Day 7 (coming soon)

Radioapple week day 1 Late night/Early morning and day 2 Enemies/Pinning

Late night pinning 📻🍎

Word count:

487

Trigger warnings:

Depression, Blood, swearing

- Third person narrative -

"Urgh stupid insomnia why can't I just sleep one night" Lucifer mumbled while making himself tea.

He continued to mutter and mumble complaining about his insomnia. While this was an everyday occurrence and something Lucifer was used to it by now but it still frustrated him. Alastor walked into the house rubbing his shirt against his glasses cleaning off blood

"Fuck that guy could really fight. Now I'm all messy!" Alastor thought.

He looked ahead in the hallway lights glowing from the kitchen. He hadn't left it on. right? Alastor approached the light to his absolute pure shock he found Lucifer mumbling to himself while making tea.

"Lucifer?" He said standing in the doorway.

"Huh?" Lucifer turned his head eyes locking with Alastor's. "Al what are you doing up?"

"Uh I think the better question is why are you awake?" Alastor said avoiding the question and staying in the dark in order to not be seen covered in blood

"insomnia" Lucifer said look at his mug with an upset expression.

"Again?" Alastor asked leaning against the door frame still in the dark though as he looked down at the shorter man in his duck pyjamas.

"Yeah" Lucifer replied filling his cup.

"You know for the king of hell you sure are weak" Alastor couldn't help but make a bitchy comment even if it made Lucifer hate him seeing him get all angry was like a drug.

"Oh fuck off Alastor you know I don't have full power on earth!" As Lucifer shouted he walked closer to Alastor. "And you don't even get the right to judge me asshole you're just a human! Also it's not like I chose to have insomnia! Like it's just part of depression and now I have to suffer with your arrogant ass! All because I made that stupid deal!"

Alastor's arms wrapped around Lucifer pulling him into a comforting hug. Lucifer's eyes went wide as his face was gently pressed against Alastor's chest.

"A- Al" he stuttered.

"Shh Luci relax I was just teasing" Alastor reassured him.

After a whole minute of the hug and utter silence Alastor's arms slowly slid off Lucifer.

"I'm going to bed make sure to get some rest Lucifer" Alastor said before turning around and walking off.

Lucifer was stiff not knowing what to do next. He turned around and put his attention back to his Tea. Lucifer grabbed his cup but on doing so noticed a red substance on his hand he looked down and it was on his clothes too. He lifted his hand and a wretched vial smell of blood hit his nose. How had he gotten covered in blood? That doesn't just happen out of nowhere. Unless, Lucifer looked back down at his hand held in front of his now stained red pajamas.

"Alastor..." He said quietly.

Lucifer looked back over to where Alastor was standing. "What's happened to you?"

[ghostfanwriter]

To make you feel better 🧽💖

A smutty fic where Joel is sick, and you do your best to help him feel better.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem! Reader.

Setting: Jackson.

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What I listened to while writing this:

💖Kali Uchis - Angel

🧽Kali Uchis - Telepatía (fucking vibes these two)

💖Sabrina Carpenter - Nonsense (because this song is partially about being cockdumb and you can't convince me otherwise. It doesn't pass the vibe check for this, but I listened to it anyway)

🧽Lana del Rey - Ultraviolence (I don't know exactly why, but Ultraviolence just makes me dizzy thinking about Joel. Listen to it watching the interrogation or hospital scenes and tell me I'm fucking wrong.)

Author's note: do yourself a favor and listen to Angel and Telepatía when reading this. Damn they fit the vibe. I had this story cooking on my brain for a long time now, and finally managed to get it out. It's dirty, but it's passionate and I hope you like it 💖. Also, I mention how they met here, and I have this idea where Frank and Bill had a daughter, maybe she arrived with Frank, and reader is her, but I don't know. I have another idea that fits right there and may write it eventually. Let me know what you think ✨

Word count: I think it's around 2.5k.

Warnings: Smut; 18+ only please; p in v, oral sex (male receiving), mention of Joel being sick, no physical description of reader, a bit of fluff there too.

Tell me if I missed something, please ✨

Good reading 🧽💖

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You leave Ellie on her doorstep and hurry to the house you share with Joel. Your cheeks are burning from the cold and you can barely feel your fingers, even inside Joel's thick gloves that he insisted you would wear outside.

You enter your house, remove a layer of clothes and rush to the guest bedroom. It took a lot - a lot - of persistance to convince him to stay downstairs. He was weak and you didn't want him going up and down the stairs everytime he needed to eat during the three days you went away.

You find him asleep, and if you're being honest, your heart sinks seeing him just laying there. Joel was getting old and, although you knew he would probably die before you, avoiding the thought was one of your main focuses right now.

Sitting at the edge of the bed slowly not to wake him up, you just admire him for a second. The wrinkles forming around his eyes, the little pout on his lips, his brows missing their deep frown. Seeing him in such a vulnerable position felt like a privilege, one that only you and Ellie had. He was soft and open with the two of you, unlike with everyone else, that sees him as a grumpy and even dangerous old man.

Dangerous, you couldn't lie. He is.

But you've seen his wrath. And you know it is only directed towards the people who threatened the ones important to him. You met him when he and Tess started going to your parents house, and with time your relationship develop to what it is today. You've never seen him offer any danger to anyone close to him.

You stroked your hands up his chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt, and noticing that he's still a little hot. He hums on his sleep and you try to wake him up. "Joel", you call in a tender whisper. He hums again and wakes up when your hand touches his cheek.

"Hi baby, how are you feeling?" His eyes take a second to focus and process it's you. He is awake on a snap, eyes wide looking at you. A tired and soft smile on his face and a hand on your thigh.

"You ok?" His stare is a bit confusing. You're not sure he is totally there with you, so you keep staring at him.

"Yeah, better now. Missed you." He finally says, like he's out of a spell. "I missed you too." You lean down to kiss him, and he lets you. Your soft and cold lips making him groan and shiver at the same time. His hand pressed harder on your thigh.

"You're still hot, aren't you? Did you shower today?" Caressing your thigh, he takes a while to respond. "Haven't since you left." You stayed out for three days, and Joel kind of got used to not showering often, so you always reminded him to shower at least once a day.

"So gross." You say with a laugh, and he gives you the best, strongest laugh he can. "I'm going to take one, why don't you come with me?" You say leaning down to kiss him again. Running your hands through his hair, you say "Wash this hair, huh? Come with me."

You help him up and you go to the bathroom. You help him undress first. He's a lot better than when you left, but he still struggles to bend and remove his shirt and pants.

"C'mon, you go first." You mention him the shower. "I thought we were showering together." You smile. "We are. But you can't stay out in the cold, so go while I undress."

He goes under the hot water, groaning at how good it feels. You quickly remove your neverending layers of clothes. Getting behind him, felling his body warmer with the added heat of the water.

You rest your cheek on his back for a second, hugging him from behind and just enjoying his presence for a moment. His hands come over yours, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You eventually start showering. He washes your hair, tenderness and love on his touch, massaging and caressing your head as he feels you relax under his touch. Fingers moving slowly and intently, like he was making sure you were really with him, and not outside, by yourself, without him to make sure you were okay.

You washed him, carefully soaping every inch of skin you saw, taking in every muscle and scar he has on his body, leaving an eventual kiss and squeeze along the way. He was with his back turned to you when you were finishing with his hair, and you lowered your hands to finish washing his front. When you reached his stomach, you felt the muscles there contract, and you soon saw why.

He had a hard, pulsing erection formed. It was fully there and God, you missed him.

He had been sick for almost a week and insisted you would keep a bit of a distance not to get sick. You missed his touch, his weight on top of you, his smell invading your nose, his sweat mixing with yours, his sounds, his tastes. You missed him fully, in a way that blurred your mind for a second.

You were brought back to reality when he groaned loudly, your hand firmly stroking him, up and down, slow and savoured movements. Like if going any harder or faster could break him. "Is this okay?" You ask, stopping to wait for his response.

A hand met your lower back, and his head rested lazily back on your shoulder. You got back to your motion, eventually going harder or faster, but keeping an overall steady and passionate rhythm.

Burying your face on his back, you were enjoying this as much as he was. "You always talk about how I'm always ready for you." You say in a whisper. He hums. You didn't lie. Joel was big on his praising game. Always telling how good you were doing and how good you felt.

"But you've never let me down neither." You said with a particularly tight movement of your hands around his tip and then his length.

Then you could swear, even if you felt like your ears were lying to you, that you heard him moan. A different, almost rare sound from him.

He always grunted and groaned, sounds you were deliciously familiar with, that you took as incentive to take him in deeper, or to cum around him again, or to work your tongue around his head one more time.

But a moan was different. It was him being vulnerable and showing his appreciation for what you were doing. His, other times, vocal lips, only spilling honesty right now.

The shower was slippery and Joel too weak to do anything in there. So you stopped your hands, running them up his stomach and kissing his back.

"Let's go to bed, don't want to end all the water, do we?" You said, turning him and receiving openly the kiss he leans down to press on your lips.

You dry his hair and his body, telling him to go to bed. You pat yourself dry and follow him, watching him while he looks at you, appreciating every curve and line your body had.

You lie over him, straddling his hips, his cock warm under your clit. Leaning down to kiss him, you slowly roll your hips, his hands coming to your ass, giving you a strong and deep squeeze.

"Wanna make you feel good, you've been feeling bad for a long time now." You whisper on his good ear when going down to kiss his neck. He hums in response and you start trailing kisses down his chest, then his stomach, and finally, around his cock.

You kiss his base, balls, head and the very tip with open and wet lips. Every inch of him receiving the love you want to give him.

You suck his balls first, softly and slowly. His hand comes to your hair, not pushing or applying any pressure. Just resting there and caressing you the same way he did when washing your hair.

You then lick a zigzag up his length, untill you reach the tip, that you roll your tongue around, slurping on his precum and enjoying the soft and warm felling of his skin when you put it inside your mouth.

You slowly take him inside, letting your droll wet the next inch before sucking him in. "Gonna fucking kill me, angel." He breathes low and you half chuckle, taking the hint and going a bit faster.

Your hand is cupping and rolling carefully his balls, when his breath starts to get quicker. You suck him a bit harder one last time, sucking in your cheeks to feel him fully inside your mouth.

Then you let go. With a wet and loud sound, your lips are open, a thick streak of saliva and precum keeping your lips and his tip connected. You swallow it and go back to straddling him, once again kissing your way back up.

His hands come to your face and he kisses you deeply, passionately. It's a slow and savoured kiss. The kind to make you wish to stop time and just live in for a bit. His warmth and smell sending you deeper into him, he's all that exists right now, and you couldn't imagine a better plane of existence.

You align yourself with his cock, rubbing his tip up and down your folds, circling him around your clit and just putting his head in first. Slowly, you move your hips up and down, just the tip going in and out of you.

His hands come down to your thighs and you break the kiss, holding yourself up to look into his eyes when you fully sink on him. His eyes falter for a second, his lips part and the fucking moan is there again. Blessing your ears and making you mimick his sound. A stretched, nasty and honest sound leaving your own lips.

The kind of moan that has you worried everything with ears could hear.

When you were together you felt like you just wanted to fuse with him. You always hugged him super tight, almost as if trying to merge your bodies and become just one.

Sex was the closest you would ever get to it, and you just loved feeling him inside of you. Just how fucking closer could you be with someone then literally having them inside you?

All these thoughts making you float inside your brain. His warmth, smells, tastes and sounds are everything that you know, and you're more than willing to just swim around the man underneath you.

Your hips instinctively start circling on him. His grip on your hips tightening and helping you move. You start going up and down, watching him while he looks at your body. His eyes deep and tired, but his usual passion and desire making room for themselves on them.

His lips dry and parted, an obscene invitation for you to lean down and lick them, which you're prompt to accept. Keeping your hips movements, circling while going up and down, a clockwork to help him feel every single inch of you, you just let yourself go and fully enjoy the moment.

You kissed again, his name leaving your lips just as much as yours left his. In whispers, whimpers, laughs when you moved just right, and groans that made you see stars.

You went back up, needing him faster and rougher, you support yourself on his chest and just let pleasure guide your movements.

Up and down, circling around. Forward and backwards, rubbing your clit on his cute belly while doing so.

You started to go faster, rougher, jumping higher and trying to ignore the pain on your boobs while you did so.

You tried to hold them with an arm, but Joel didn't like the blocking of his vision, so his hands left your hips and, removing your arm from your boobs, he held them, giving them enough support so they wouldn't hurt, but keeping them fully in sight for him.

You started to feel your orgasm forming and put your left hand besides his head, using your other hand to circle your clit fast and tight. Joel groaned and pulled you high enough that he could take your nipples on his lips.

He sucked hard and...

Oh God.

He just fucking kicked you off the highest cliff possible.

You screamed his name in a way that would absolutely earn you some looks when you step outside your house.

Your body shivered, shook, and moved uncontrollably. His name the only word you could remember, and you felt your pussy literally gushing around his cock.

You lied on top of him for a second. Trying your best to breath again. You were straight up just cockwarming for a bit, while you tried to organize your brain again.

"So fucking pretty, baby. Feel so good around me, squeezing me so well." His words making you clench purposefully around him, wich you kept doing, just pulsing and doing your best to make him feel good while you can't move. "My good... (a clench) Fucking girl."

Oh, to be praised by Joel Miller.

You couldn't help yourself. You needed him with you. And you would do anything to show him how much you wanted it, how much you deserved him with you.

You wanted to make sure he was always happy, always aware that you made him feel better than anyone else.

The fog on your brain started to fade and you slowly returned your movements. At first still laying on top of him, just moving your ass to bring back some friction, and eventually properly moving up and down.

"Circle again baby, like you were doing before. Felt so good." You did as you were told, drawing large and heavy circles with your hips, never letting an inch of him escape from you.

"Fuck, baby, so fucking good for me." His eyes were watching you, the frown back between his eyebrows, but this time motivated only by pleasure. His parted lips letting moans, grunts and deep breaths escape, only moving to repeat your name time after time.

It was all too much for you. You fell down again, taken by the man under you. Only him on your mind, his smile, his hair, his big hands, the sound of his voice.

Your orgasm wasn't just due to the stimulation from this moment. It was because of him.

For him.

It was like your way to pay homage to him, to show him just how much you loved and appreciated him. He was making you cum, not only his cock.

Your jaw was clenched together and your eyes doing their best to keep staring at his. When you were finally over, he couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm gonna cum, peach. Can't fucking hold it anymore."

You searched for strength on your muscles and got up. Kissing him and quickly reaching for his cock. You grab him and just go right back to it. Taking him as deep as you can, swallowing around his cock to make your throat clench around him, earning a grunt and a hair pull from him.

"Fuck, shit." He's doing his best to last and savour this feeling. His hands squeezing both your hair and the sheets, the veins on his neck about to break his skin and jump out of his body.

"Can't, baby. Gonna f-fucking cum." His warning allowing you to remove a bit of him from your mouth. You suck his head and pump his length, moaning when you feel him twitch inside your mouth.

Joel screams your name and lifts his upper body when he cums inside your mouth. Filling you up more than usually, and oh... You love it, tightening your lips around him to not let any drop escape from you.

"Greedy fucking girl." He says when you remove your full mouth from him, squeezing your lips not to let anything drip. You drink him with the most beautiful facial expression Joel has ever fucking seen, and smile when he laughs lazily at your face.

You look down, noticing there's still some on his cock. You take it back into your mouth and Joel hisses, caressing your hair, once again mimicking the movement from your shower.

Rolling your tongue around his softening tip one last time, you moan and circle it around your lips. Then you lick them and go back up, looking for his lips.

He pulls you down, kissing you in a way he hopes you understand as appreciation.

There you are, laying on top of him, sweating even though you're going through the worst part of winter.

Just you, Joel and your love for each other.

"I love you." You say when breaking the kiss.

"I love you too, more than I could ever explain." His honesty breaks your heart.

You feel the familiar feeling on your guts, the desire to melt into him, to never have to leave this bed again, to never have to experience a second without him.

You lie by his side and rest your head on his shoulder. "Gonna have to take another shower." You say, half laughing, half serious.

"Is it gonna end like the last one? Cause if it is I'm fucking running to the bathroom." He laughs, and you know he means it.

"Gonna be an endless loop, till the end of time." You say and he looks down at you.

"Eternity sounds beautiful by your side." Fuck him, you're so fucking in love.

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Can you tell I'm dying over this man? No? Cool.

Nothing to see here.

Feedback, reblogs and cuddles are highly appreciated 👑

Bye besties, see you next time 💖

[totally-not-here-for-the-smut]

Hi, it's me again! I hope I'm not being annoying, but can I have headcanon for M6 with a MC who accidentally took aphrodisiac? Thanks!

Not annoying at all! Happy to be your smut dealer lol

Before we start, a disclaimer: I imagined this scenarios in a situation of uncinditional trust and consent. I've often read of "funny" fantasy situations with potions & love magic involved where one character ends up being intimate with another just because they unknowingly took (or were given!!!) something to have them behaving in that way. To me, this is the fantasy equivalent of rape. Having someone consent to sex or being involved in a continuative relationship while under the effect of *anything* it is not ok. So, I really want to specify that this HCs are consensual, and happen in an established, explicit relationship in which consent is unconditional (of course, such a situation is possible only in a fantasy setting. No irl relationship has unconditional and total consent).

Aphrodisiac Headcanons

♤•••♧

Tw: light bdsm, embarassment, rough

There are a few things to keep in mind while working at a magic shop. First thing is, there are no such things like "substitutions". When cooking, you can switch eggs with seed jelly and flour, or butter with milk, and expect a decent result. With magic, you can't. You know this, but sometimes mistakes do happen. Switching sage with white sage it's so easy in a dark evening... and breathing in the vapors that rise from the cauldron can create unexpected events.

Portia is delighted by your attentions, today. She can't wrap her head around why you're so eager to see her, though. You knew she was working, but couldn't stay away from her... after all, the palace is so big that's easy to "get lost" in it, and the thunderstorm is dark and noisy... Who will be able to hear her moaning?

She's on her knees now, her head firmly pressed against your groin by your greedy hands. It wasn't hard to get her there: you brought her to the brim of an orgasm as she had her hands buisy doing laundry, and then threatened her to leave her that way if she didn't follow your indications. Luckily, she didn't see through your bluff, and literally fell at your feet... but in reality, you could have never truly resist to make her come.

Lucio doesn't seem to realize what happened. Of course you can't wait to be with him! You end up spending the day in bed, going so many rounds that eventually the bedsheets are soaked in sweat... and something more.

When Lucio is finally drained and exhausted -for the first time you bettered him!- he starts wandering how the hell your all up and ready for more. He tries to go one more round, but he's done, and almost passes out on top of you. You look at him sleeping, wondering if you could hack his magical gauntlet somehow to ho ahead, but eventually you decide to let him sleep. Who knows, maybe Nadia is still awake...

It takes a few seconds for Asra to understand what's happened. He stops you halfway, he takes a look at your mistake and he knows right away that him alone would end up destroyed before you'll be satisfied. The solution it's clear and simple. Orgy.

-work in progress! Tumbr app is giving me some problems lately ^^" I'll add the other m6 in a bit

One thing Asra doesn't lack is a wide list of friends who will gladly have a ride. The desert house is the perfect place, so isolated and silent... well, until it's filled up with moans. As you're engaged in various filling activities, you cast a glance at him, and see him sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by men and women both, almost like an ancient dionysian demigod in a bacchanal.

At first, Muriel doesn't understand why you're like this, today. When you manage to stop blabbering and staring at his bare chest, you explain to him what happened. He's not exactly embarrassed, but he doesn't want to be with you if he has reasons to think you only want him because of some external factor. So, you ask him, you beg him and you pray him and cry, because you need him to fuck you, but there's no way to convince him.

Eventually, he agrees to lie down next to you, on his bed. You spend the night trebling close to his body, wishing to have more than his body heat that radiates from the tight hug he's holding you in. By the morning, you're exhausted and your tights are so, so wet. The effect is wearing out.

Only then, Muriel agrees to take you, slowly, as you struggle to stay awake just as your body struggles to stretch around his girth. He has a sweet smile, now that he knows you want him nonetheless... but is there a glimpse of fun in his eyes?

[pabsgavi]

﹗ ˖ ་ 🪩 besfriend : pablo gavi

Pablo Gavi x fem Reader ! ♡

❝ Love you like a brother. Treat you like a friend. Respect you like a lover ❞

the gif is not mine!! credits to his owner

warning: english is not my language so sorry for the grammatical errors

You turned to the next page of the book on meditation you were reading, in your defense, it had been the most fun you found in your mother's office, after she and your father left for a business dinner, leaving you in the care from your grandmother —who despite being very funny— after nine o'clock she was simply a snoring bag on the furniture.

It was ten o'clock at night, on a Saturday, and while most of your friends were enjoying the night out, you were in your living room, with a cup of tea and a meditation book in your hands, with your Grandma next to you, and the TV in the background, playing one of her favorite novels.

After a while, you finished your reading, so you took your phone and went up the stairs, although before you made sure to cover your grandmother with one of the blankets on the furniture, and turn off the television with the novel. You quickly went up to your room, debating how necessary it was to shower—which you had done earlier—because it was too cold.

A few minutes later, already feeling the heat of the pajamas on your body, you took one last look at your phone, before going to bed, feeling how your whole body relaxed when it came into contact with the soft mattress, covering yourself with the blankets that were They found themselves on top of it, falling into a deep sleep just a few seconds later.

You were having the best of dreams, everything was perfect, the temperature of the room, the blankets, the mattress, you just felt in the clouds, until the sound of your cell phone began to rumble all over the place, at first you decided to ignore it , surely it was one of your friends trying to take you to the party, but when after a few minutes the phone did not stop ringing, you groaned as you went out from under the covers to answer the call, without even opening your eyes , still sleepy.

"Hello?" you whispered, still with half of your face glued to your pillow.

The noises of what seemed to be a party appeared immediately, you rolled your eyes, you were about to end that call, thinking that it was one of your friends making fun of how pathetic you were to stay home on a Saturday and follow the rules of your Parents, it wasn't until you heard his voice that you woke up.

"Pablo? Are you okay?"you asked, starting to worry when you didn't receive an answer from the boy you called your best friend."I swear, if this is a damn joke, Pablo, I'm going to kill you with my own hands."

You heard some laughter and some kind of struggle from the other side. "Gavi!" "Idiot, give me the phone! Y/n?"

"Carla?" Now you were wide awake, putting on your slippers. "What the hell is going on? It is assumed that Pablo couldn't leave the house, he can't even drink alcohol, in two days it's the game."

"I know, I know! The boys thought it would be a good idea to take him out of the house so he could relax a bit, but he drank too much and now he's lying in the middle of Luis's garden"

"What!?" You took the car keys quickly, putting on a coat before running down the stairs quickly. "Stay with him, okay? I'll be there in less than ten minutes."

Just as you said, in less than ten minutes you were getting out of the car to Luis's garden, where most of your friends were, some more drunk than others, along with Pablo and Carla, who was crouched next to him. boy on the grass

"They are crazy? If Pablo's parents find out about this, they'll kill them, hell."With rage and Carla's help, you took the boy to take him to your car."We'll talk about this later, take care, idiots, goodbye, Carla."You said goodbye to the girl with two kisses on the cheek and once you finished accommodating Pablo in the back seat, you got into yours.

"Hello, y / n, honey!" The boy got up from the place smiling at him, and then kissed your cheek.

"If you weren't drunk I'd punch you in the face, I swear," he laughed, scooting awkwardly to the passenger seat. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with you?"

"We could kiss-" You gave him a dirty look. "Take me home," he corrected, giving you an innocent look.

"You're crazy? How are you going to explain to your parents that you are falling down drunk? You know you can't drink alcohol until after the game, Pablo."

“It was just a…bottle."

"Pablo!"

"Yeah, ya, have they told you that you look cute when you're angry?" He ask caressing your cheek, making you roll your eyes.

"I'll take you home, luckily my parents aren't here, but you better behave and be quiet, my grandmother can't know that you're drunk, understood?"

"Clear than crystal, precious," he whispered, winking at you, and then leaning back on the seat.

Once you parked the car, you smiled watching Pablo sleep peacefully next to you. Before helping him get out, you wrote to his sister to inform her that he was with you and everything was fine.

"Pablo, darling, Pablo." You moved him slightly from one side to the other, once he opened his eyes, you took his hand, helping him lean against you.

On the way to the door he almost fell to the ground about four times, but you were able to make it to the living room with no problem, once you got to the stairs, you knew you two were in trouble.

"Pablo, shit, be careful!" you whispered, seeing him get too close to the edge of the stairs, staggering, he laughed.

You quickly approached him, covering his mouth, indicating that he should remain silent, and then you took him to the guest room, where a few seconds later you looked for comfortable clothes that he had left the last time he stayed at your house.

"Oh my God," he whispered, before launching himself onto the bed.

You rolled your eyes at him, taking his ankles, to remove his shoes and socks, a few seconds later he sat on the edge of the bed and raised his arms, making you laugh.

"You're an idiot, Pablo," you whispered, still between laughs, to remove his shirt and put on the sky blue sweatshirt that was next to him.

"Turn around, and you better not look, y/n."

"I don't promise anything," you teased, turning around so he could change his pants.

Feeling again like the old days when you were kids and you slept over at each other's house, but you were so scared you needed to change in the same room.

"Ready."Once Pablo finished you turned around, smiling when you saw him already lying on the bed covered by the blankets.

"Rest, silly." You approached, to leave a kiss on his cheek.

"See you tomorrow, honey." You smiled at the nickname, although it was nothing new.

You walked up to your room smiling, feeling particularly different with Pablo's presence, knowing that there was something strangely changing in the way you saw the boy.

You tried to push those thoughts out once you reached your room, pulling the covers back over you, grabbing your phone, laughing at the recent text from aurora, Pablo's older sister.

"I hope they only sleep, I don't want nephews yet"

Now you couldn't stop thinking about the way everyone around you two had always wanted you two together, since you were kids, Aurora always said that you were going to end up together, that's not counting the endless attempts of yours parents to match you up, even your friends. They wanted to see you together, even more so after Pablo's previous girlfriend broke up with him, according to her because she knew he loved her, but he would never do it the way he loved you.

Well, maybe it was time to sleep, but now you couldn't stop thinking of the two of you in a way other than just friends, and the idea didn't sound bad at all.

What the hell were you thinking?

The sound of the door made you come out of your thoughts, you smiled watching Pablo with his pillow in his hand and his puppy face, he gave you a shy smile and it was enough.

“Come here, Pablo!” He laughed, before throwing himself on your bed, he stood next to you.

He pass his arms around your waist, while you rest your head on his chest, smiling when you feel the accelerated beat of his heart.

“I love you, y/n,” he whisper, making you feel butterflies in your stomach.

"I love yo too, Pablo.—you answered, feeling how he left a kiss on your head, to then relax his body completely, and it was the last thing you said before falling sound asleep in his arms.

[shmaptainwrites]

Late Nights [Richard Castle]

Pairings: Richard Castle x fem!Reader

Characters: Richard Castle, Alexis Castle (brief)

Summary: Reader and Rick spend a few late nights together over the course of their relationship

Warnings: none this bitch is pure fluff

Note: I said I was gonna do it didn't I, well anyways here's another fic no one is gonna read because Mimi can't stop simping for random-ass middle-aged white men

Rick Castle wasn’t unfamiliar with late nights. Whether it was a book launch party or just late nights in the office finishing his next book. And almost each time he couldn’t wait to come back and sink into his bed. 

It shouldn’t, of course, be mistaken that Rick didn’t enjoy a good night on the town coming up with all sorts of crazy ideas, maybe even getting arrested once or twice, but some days it just felt better to go home and go to bed. 

Today was one of those days, a long launch party with people following him every which way, asking questions he couldn't give answers to, after the first hour it became exhausting. 

So when the last people finally left the venue and his publisher informed him it would be an acceptable time to leave, he climbed into the first cab he could find and gave his home address, sinking back into the seat and waiting to arrive at his destination. 

When he unlocked the door to the apartment, noticing all the lights were off and a quiet hush had fallen over his home, he made extra care to not wake those sleeping. 

His poor little Alexis, sick in bed with a cold. It tore him apart to leave her, but there were certain obligations he couldn’t get out of. 

He took off his coat and hung it over the couch before making his way upstairs and into his own room. He didn’t turn on the lights, only taking a seat at the edge of the bed to pull off his socks and run a hand through his hair before letting out a yawn.

“You got back late.” 

Rick turned around and the figure he assumed was sleeping had actually been wide awake, curled against her pillow. 

“I know, I tried to leave earlier at least three times,” he chuckled. “She went down okay?” 

“Easy peasy, you know how much she loves me,” you said. “Gave her some cough syrup and read her a story and she was out like a light.”

“And you?” he finished unbuttoning his shirt and tossed it on the ground before leaning in to give you a kiss. 

“Exhausted. I tried to clean the kitchen after I put Alexis to sleep, but there were like ten thousand other things to do,” you told him. “Plus, it didn’t help that I missed you.” 

That made him smile, his hand going to find your own, interlocking your fingers together. 

“I missed you too, parties aren’t much fun if your favourite person to get in trouble with isn’t there.” 

“And your daughter is at home sick.” 

“That too,” he agreed.

“You’re probably tired too, finished getting changed then get in here,” you patted the empty spot next to you. “We’ll need all the sleep we can get, especially if Lex comes in here in the middle of the night.”

“You read my mind,” he kissed you once more, this time lingering a little longer, like he was savouring the small moment he had with you in the dark quiet room. 

He finished getting changed into something more comfortable before sliding in under the covers next to you and playfully pulling you into his side only to give you more kisses. 

“Rick, stop, that tickles!” you squealed quietly. 

“That’s kind of the point, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your neck as his head snakes around your waist. 

“Rick!” you whined and he respected your wishes, but not before turning your face towards him, the tip of his nose grazing your own. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

You kissed his nose and snuggled into his side before whispering, 

“I love you too.” 

—

Ten Years Later

“Hey, what are you still doing awake?” Rick quickly closed the door behind him before checking the time again on his watch. “It’s almost 4.” 

“I was worried about you,” you came up to him, scanning up and down for any sign of injury. “You didn’t respond to any of my messages or pick up any of my calls.”

“I’m okay, I promise,” he assured you, holding your wrists in his hands. “My phone died, and I didn’t have a charger with me, I’m sorry I should have called to say I was going to be back late.” 

“Yes, you should have,” you agreed with him. “Don’t scare me like that again, Rick.” 

“You know I can't promise you that, it would just be a lie,” he tried to tease you to lighten up the mood before bringing you in for a tight hug. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, really.” 

“I know you are,” you sighed. “It’s just hard knowing you’re out there chasing all these people with Detective Beckett, I just get worried.” 

“I’ll check in more, I can promise that. I didn’t realize you were such a worry wart.” 

“Neither did I until you started trailing behind the detectives at the 12th like a puppy,” you teased right back. 

“At least I know you’ll never murder me for my money, otherwise why would you be so scared.” 

“Maybe it’s just to draw away any suspicions,” you poked his chest. “And I’m not the only one who worries for you, Alexis waited up with me until about two hours ago.” 

“She went to bed?” 

You pointed your head over to the couch where Alexis was fast asleep, a blanket draped over her. 

“Your mother on the other hand,” you pressed your lips together in a thin line and stared at the ground. 

“No, that one I’m used to,” Rick nodded. “How the hell did you think I ended up the way I am?” 

You chuckled a little before pressing a kiss to his cheek and encouraging Rick to take Alexis up to her bed so she wouldn’t wake up with a sore back. 

When he came to join you in your room, you were sitting in front of the small vanity you had set up, taking off your jewelry and placing the various pieces in their separate containers. 

Rick came and stood behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders before bending down to press a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Why do I feel like you have an idea up your sleeve?” you asked, looking up at him. 

“Maybe because I do,” he hummed. “Grab a light sweater and come with me.” 

Despite your exhaustion, you listened to him and took his hand in yours while he led you out of the apartment and to the elevator, clicking the button that would take you all the way to the top floor. 

“Rick, what are you doing?” you sighed, still standing in the elevator as he walked out of it. 

“Only an hour until sunrise,” he tilted his head and gave you a look. “Come on.” 

You tried your best to keep the annoyed look on your face, but you couldn’t help but smile. Rick had always been romantic. 

You sat on one of the concrete blocks overlooking the rest of downtown, slipped on your sweater and leaned into your husband.

“You ever get tired of me Rick?” you asked. 

“Tired? Of the woman who staged the house like a crime scene to help me with my writer’s block? The one who recently got arrested for public indecency? The one who continues to surprise me every single day and be one of the…” he counted on his fingers. “Four things in my life that keep it interesting? I could never.” 

“What are the other three?” you looked up at him. “Alexis is one I’m guessing.” 

“Yes it would come down to Alexis, my mother, and the criminals of New York City,” he confirmed. 

“How domestic of you Rick Castle,” you laughed and pulled your sweater closer to yourself. 

“And I hope you don’t get tired of me,” Rick added. 

“Nah, a dork like you’s always got a little something to spice up life,” you patted his thigh. “Plus I love you too much so either way it doesn’t matter.” 

Rick squeezed your arm and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“Somehow, after a long day, no matter what it is or where I am,” he started. “I can always look forward to coming back home to you.” 

“Even if it is at 4 A.M.” you chuckled. 

“Especially at 4 A.M.” 

Rick tilted your chin up so he could look at you. You smiled softly at him, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world, a one of a kind sunrise over downtown New York and all he could do was watch the orange glow in your eyes. 

“Honey, you’re missing the sunrise,” you said quietly, really not minding the attention. 

“I think I’ve got a better view right here,” he dipped down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, resting his forehead against yours once your lips had parted. 

And in that moment you both knew you would never mind the late nights so long as you always found your way back to each other.

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