#tornado voice: I LOVE MY BIG HUSBAND

[cak3o]

I just really like making hornet tall as fuck

[little-diable]

Cocky Tornado Wrangler – Tyler Owens (smut)

Finally watching Twisters tonight. My poor aunt who has to listen to me gush about our husband. Thank you so much for the love on my other Tyler fic, I hope y'all will love this just as much. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: There are many things (y/n) would prefer to having to share a room with the man she hates. But does she really hate him? Or will the bed they share be enough to push them closer together?

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), piv, enemies to lovers, lots of teasing

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3.8k words)

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Her voice dripped with exhaustion, eyes tired and ready to flutter shut any moment now. But fuck, she couldn’t give in just yet, had to fight yet another battle with the self proclaimed tornado wrangler who was staring down at her with his signature smirk glued to his lips.

The smirk he wore in every video of his. Videos she watched whenever they were uploaded to his channel. Not that she’d ever tell Tyler that. And god forbid he’d ever stumble upon the saved favourites she watched in moments where she needed distraction from everything but him. 

“Well, seems like your prayers were answered, pretty. An EF4 and now we get to share a room, certainly feels like we’re even closer to heaven now, doesn’t it?” Tyler’s hand found her waist to give it a soft squeeze before he gently pushed her further into the motel room. It had been an exhausting day, filled with adrenaline highs as they chased tornadoes until the late evening. Even though they had been mesmerised by the beautiful disaster, they were now forced to stay in one of the close towns, cut off from the highway heading home. 

“I can take the couch.” She had her eyes set on the rather worn out couch which had been pushed against one of the walls that were painted in a faded out pink colour. The whole room made her feel like she was back at her grandparents home, letting an almost melancholic feeling settle in the pit of her stomach. 

“You sure you don’t wanna share? The bed’s big enough, or I could take the couch.” Tyler hung up his still wet hat before placing his bag down on the bed. (Y/n) watched him take in the room, giving her a few seconds to curse him for wearing a white shirt that now clung to his muscular upper body. His back muscles were shining through the wet fabric, letting her get lost in the thoughts of how it must feel to brush her nails along his soft skin. Thoughts that shot heat straight down to her core, knowing that she’d have to take care of that cursed longing in the shower. 

“In your dreams, Owens, and we both know you won’t fit on that couch.” His raspy laugh left her grinning, unable to stop her tired face from reacting to the man (y/n) claimed she hated and yet needed to feel close at any given chance. 

“Trust me, baby, my dreams are all about sharing a bed with you and so much more.” With a wink thrown her way, Tyler plopped down on the bed. He studied her for a moment, taking in her wet frame while his tongue kissed his teeth and his muscular arms were locked behind his head. She needed to get out of here, needed to find shelter in the warm shower before her body would do something she couldn’t stop it from doing. 

“I’ll grab a quick shower.” (Y/n) didn’t wait for his reply, darting for the bathroom that was just big enough for her to let go of a deep breath. 

She hated that she had dreamt of moments like these, wondering how it may play out with Tyler by her side, having to share a bed while the world outside was ending. And all they’d have eyes for would be one another, no matter how many tornadoes called for them. 

Within seconds, (y/n) had shuffled out of her wet clothes only to step into the small shower. She couldn’t stop her soft moan from leaving her as the warm water cascaded down her back as if it were hugging her. The silence she was now offered forced her thoughts back to the longing she couldn’t shake, the need to take care of the pulsing between her thighs that grew stronger with every passing moment. 

Her fingers moved quickly, knowing that she didn’t have much time before Tyler would disturb her peace, desperate for a shower himself. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) let her fingers circle her pulsing bundle, imaging Tyler’s fingers instead of her own. 

Would he touch her with the same kind of urgency? Would he draw the same moans from her she oh so desperately wanted to give in to? No, he wouldn’t. He’d make her feel things she had never felt before, clashing through her like a tornado stronger than she had ever been fortunate enough to study. Tyler Owens was her own personal disaster and she was close to letting him rip her off her feet, close to allowing him to have his way with her without being able to protest. 

“Fuck,” the word rolled off her tongue all too quickly, knowing that she was already close to giving in to her high. (Y/n) didn’t pay the ache in her forearm any mind, didn’t worry about the way her fingers begged her to move slower, all she was focused on were her thoughts that painted a picture of Tyler and the way he’d touch her.

And with her head rolled back and her lips tightly pressed together, she came. (Y/n) let her orgasm wash through her, rubbing her pulsing bundle a few more times before her tired body found its way out of the shower.

It took her a second to realise that she hadn’t taken any clean clothes with her, drawing yet another exhausted groan from her. Carefully, she opened the door, hiding behind her towel while her eyes found Tyler’s frame. No longer was he wearing his shirt, exposing his muscular upper body to her eyes which tried to burn every inch of his naked skin into her mind. 

“Tyler,” her soft voice drew his eyes from his phone. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?”

She expected a snarky comment, anything to tease her and rile her up some more, but Tyler stayed quiet, eyes focused on the parts of her body that weren’t covered by the door or her towel. (Y/n) could have sworn that he had swallowed heavily first before rising to his feet to reach for his bag. His eyes stayed glued to her while he reached a shirt out for her to take, letting his fingers brush against hers for a moment. 

It was cheesy almost, the buzz of lighting striking her at the small contact. A touch so small and yet so significant, her mind would probably think of it for days and nights to come.

With a small “thank you” rolling off her tongue, (y/n) stepped back into the bathroom to put on the shirt, grateful that it was long enough to cover her panties. Trembling legs carried her back into the room, not daring to look at Tyler, whose eyes she felt on her frame. No words were spoken between them as he pushed past her into the bathroom, allowing (y/n) to deeply exhale the second she was left alone once again. 

……

The moments after Tyler had returned from the shower, wearing nothing but boxers that clung to his body just as tightly as his wet shirt had, had been filled with a tight atmosphere. Barely any words had been shared between them, not as she had made herself comfortable on the couch, not as he had turned off the light while stretching out on the bed.

She had turned her back to him to stop her eyes from wandering, knowing that no matter how tired she was, her mind wouldn’t let her rest. Not when he was so close to her. Not when she heard his uneven breaths that told her he was still awake. Not when she could easily move closer to feel him pressed against her. 

What was he thinking of? Was he still riled up by today’s chase? Or was he also thinking of those moments where he had passed his shirt to her? 

Even though she begged her body to stay calm, to not move back towards him, she lost the fight within seconds. Her front was turned towards him, letting her eyes rest on the parts of his body that weren’t hidden by the blanket, making her awfully aware of how close he was to her. 

This was unusual for them, quiet moments where neither spoke, where no teasing or bickering could be heard. Nothing but the breaths both let go of while he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling and she wasn't strong enough to look away from him just yet.

“I can feel you staring, pretty.” Tyler rolled his head towards her, eyes meeting (y/n)’s like lightning striking a tree, buzzing straight through it to set it ablaze. “What’s going on in that confusing mind of yours?”

“Just because you’re not smart enough to understand my thoughts it doesn’t mean my mind’s confusing.” The words had left her all too quickly, drawing a gritty laugh from Tyler. A sound she loved hearing, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. A sound that left her smiling the second her ears were fortunate enough to hear it. 

“You wound me. I’d say we’re a pretty good team when it comes to understanding your plans.” Heat spread through every part of her body, a heat she was all too used to by now but still didn’t know how to work with. She rolled her eyes at Tyler before refocusing on his handsome features, taking in every part of the face she knew like the back of her hand. 

Her breath hitched in her chest as he lifted the blanket, patting the spot next to him, “Come up here, I don’t need you complaining about back pain tomorrow.”

(Y/n)’s body moved without holding back, crawling to the spot next to him as if she had done this numerous times before. It felt awfully right to lay next to him, to feel Tyler’s arm slowly wrap around her middle to cage her against his chest. 

“Do you remember the first time we chased together?” She tried to stop her hand from moving as he spoke, she really did. But yet (y/n) miserably failed, unable to keep away from his soft skin any longer, needing to feel it beneath her wandering fingers as she traced slow patterns on the skin of his warm chest. 

“I wanted to break your nose that day, god, you were even cockier back then. Do you still think people instantly recognise you when you meet them?” He shook his head with a smirk playing on his lips, tightening his grip on (y/n) as she shuffled even closer. That day was replaying in her mind every now and then, remembering how he had misjudged her for a fangirl, expecting her to almost faint when shaking his hand. And yet she hadn’t known much about him, had never watched any of his videos before that day. Something Tyler hadn’t taken as lightly as he should have, turning into the cocky asshole she had cursed for the past months.

“I no longer care about that, only worry about impressing you, pretty.” He pressed a kiss to her hairline before he let his eyes flicker back to the ceiling. His sharp jawline was exposed to her wandering eyes, making (y/n) awfully aware of how easily she could kiss him right now. It took everything in her not to move, to hold still as her heart picked up its beat. Whatever it was that had urged her on to fight against him these past months, it was now gone, leaving her unable to fight back and in need of something more. 

“We both know that’s a lie, Owens. All you worry about is tornadoes and busty women who ask you to sign their cleavages.” Her laugh was mixed with his as he let his gaze find hers again while squeezing her side. She fought against his grip, hating that he had found her most ticklish spot that made her toss and turn against him. Tyler seemed to enjoy the sight, letting his fingers find the spot again while shifting her around to hover over (y/n). With one hand pressed to the pillow and his knees caging in her right thigh, he left her no room to move away from him. 

“Do I hear jealousy?” His eyes wandered over her face, focusing on her lips as she fought against the need to look away. “You know there’s no need to be jealous, pretty. All you gotta do is give in and stop fighting our bond.” 

A sharp reply was burning on her tongue, and yet her body managed to win the fight, letting her fingers find the back of Tyler’s neck to pull him in for a soft kiss. He instantly replied to the touch, adding more pressure to the kiss with his body shuffling closer. It felt as if they were burning, tied together like two matches setting a petrol station ablaze, ready to alight the darkening night. 

With every swipe of his tongue, with every moan rumbling through them, it set in further that this was finally happening, that they were finally crossing that last bridge. No longer was she set on fighting it, purely focused on Tyler’s touch and the need to feel him as close as humanly possible. 

“Talk to me, baby, what do you want?” Her mind was torn between the kisses they kept sharing and the feeling of him growing against her thigh, telling (y/n) that he needed and wanted this as much as she did. Her fingers combed through his hair, letting her nails scratch his skin with just enough pressure to leave him tingling in excitement. 

“Everything, I want all of you, Tyler.” Hours ago she would have cursed herself for giving in so easily, for admitting that insatiable hunger she had felt for months now. But she no longer found it in herself to care, could no longer shy away from having whatever Tyler was about to offer her. Her words drew a groan from the tall tornado wrangler who kissed his way down her throat while shifting his weight onto his knees. They held eye contact as his hands disappeared beneath the shirt of his she was wearing, finding their way straight to her chest. 

“Fuck, feels like you were made for me, every part of you.” His praises sank in like a ship hitting the ocean ground, sinking lower with every passing second, forever resting on the ground like the praises he spoke to her. Forever etched into her mind. Forever remembering the way they made her feel lightheaded and giddy. 

Urgently he pulled the shirt over her head, set on exposing her body to his hungry eyes. Tyler let go of another groan as he looked down at her, making a silent promise that he’d have to take a picture of her in that position one of these days. He dipped his head down to  suck on her nipples, making her moan for him while she spread her thighs for him. His core met hers, leaving both breathless as his clothed cock rubbed against her clothed heat – a feeling so intense, it only urged Tyler on to move further down her body. 

“Will you let me taste you, pretty?” Only a breathless “Please” left (y/n), drawing a smirk to his lips. She watched his eyes light up as he pushed her panties down her legs, looking like he was marvelling at art – art so mesmerising he couldn’t stop staring. 

“Let me make you feel good, baby.” Those were the last words Tyler spoke before his tongue brushed her folds, drawing a moan from the both of them. His arms wove their way around her thighs, keeping her pressed to him as he ate her out like a starving man, high on her taste and the sounds she made for him. 

Nothing but moans managed to leave (y/n), getting lost in the feeling of Tyler sucking on her pulsing bundle, while he pushed two fingers into her – doing just what she had imagined him doing in the shower a while ago. He instantly managed to find that spot that made her see stars as he pressed down on it with his fingers, forcing (y/n) to choke on her sounds.

“Oh god, Tyler,” he chuckled against her skin, letting the sound vibrate through every part of her. From the corner of his eyes he could see her fist the covers with her free hand, the one that wasn’t buried in his hair, telling him that she was already close. And yet Tyler knew that he’d pull away soon, wanting to feel her cum around his cock like he had imagined her doing the past months. 

Tyler had worked hard for her attention, knowing that he had fucked it up the first time they had met. She had instantly managed to push him off his high horse, bruising his ego with her sharp words he could still recite today. And yet it had only made him desperate for more, set on pulling her closer like no other woman before her. 

“I could die a happy death between your thighs, pretty, but I need to fuck you now.” The dazy look she shot him made him feel proud, knowing that she had been about to cum on his tongue. She didn’t reply, at least not with words, with nothing but a whine did she pull him towards her for another kiss. He shuffled out of his boxers, freeing his twitching cock with a few movements. 

“Let me grab a condom.” He left her side for a moment, allowing (y/n) to sort through her thoughts which were all over the place. And yet she couldn’t carry about anything but the need to feel him buried inside of her, knowing that once she knew what it feels like to have him so close, she’d never be able to let him go again. A thought that left her torn between excitement and anxiety, unsure what was awaiting them. 

“Do you still want this? We don’t have to do this if you’re unsure, (y/n).” Tyler’s whispers ripped her out of her spiralling thoughts. She shook her head at him before pulling back in, focused on his handsome face, mustering every spot she could blindly find. 

“I want this, want you.” That’s all he needed to hear before aligning himself with her heat and slowly pushing into her. With his forehead pressed against hers, both needed a moment to adjust, not expecting to feel this, unable to put the sensation into any words that would make sense to their minds. It felt like they had been made for one another, made solemnly for this moment that felt as if the world had spinning, thrown off its path. 

“Move, please, Ty’.” He instantly gave in, pulling out of her only to push in with more strength. Their bodies met with every ferocious thrust, sending bolts of electricity down her spine. She arched her back off the mattress, needing to be even closer to him while he kept burying himself inside of her. 

Blood rushed in her ears, drowning everything out but the sounds Tyler made, sounds so raspy and deep she feared it was another tornado growing in the distance, guttural sounds which left her walls fluttering around his cock. Her fingernails scratched at his shoulder, set on leaving red marks that wouldn’t fade for days, claiming him in the most primal way she could come up with at that moment. 

“God, I can’t wait to fuck you like that for the rest of my life.” The words roll off his tongue just like that. There was no way he could stop them from leaving him. And for the first time in minutes she finds herself ripped out of her state, staring up at him with wide eyes. But Tyler doesn’t say another word, all he does is study her while fucking her closer to the edge. 

“Do you mean that?” She struggled to speak, needing to ground herself before choking on her words. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as he nodded his head while watching a smile grow on her slightly swollen lips. “Good, I don’t want you to let me go again, Owens.”

He took the words as a challenge, adding even more pressure to his thrusts to throw (y/n) back into her dazed state. With his fingers circling her pulsing bundle, he knew that it was only a matter of moments before she’d cum around his cock, allowing him to take in the most beautiful sight he’d ever be fortunate enough to see. 

His name left (y/n) one last time before falling off the edge. His hips kept meeting hers, fucking her through her high while feeling his own crawling closer. She clung to him, murmuring his name like her own personal mantra as he followed her, letting go with a groan she’d forever remember.

It took both a moment to move again, for him to pull out of her and to get rid of the condom and for her to slightly shift around on the mattress, watching his every move with her weight balanced on her forearms. Tyler found his way back to her within seconds, hovering over her to press another kiss to the lips he’d never get tired of kissing. 

“Are you okay?” His whispers left (y/n) grinning, nodding against his lips while another wave of euphoria swapped through her. 

“More than.” Unspoken feelings were hanging heavily in the air, knowing that both would have to address them rather soon, but all they did was look at one another, marvelling at the person they never wanted to let go of again. “Thank you for this.”

“Nothing to thank me for, pretty. And hell, I’m not even close to being finished with you tonight.”

[lunarlando]

girl dad lando doing his babygirl's hair (she has his curls for sure hehe)!! he struggles a little but does a decent job at the end ~ maybe following a tutorial video or wifey is guiding him but creative freedom to you ❤️

so cute, thanks for the request! x

feel free to request more :)

“You’re in charge of one thing before we have to leave for brunch with your family.” 

Lando glances up from where he's laid out on the carpet tickling a wildly giggling Estelle to see you with your hands on your hips. 

You’re still one of the many shirts of his that you’ve resorted to using as pajamas since your currently seven month pregnant belly has popped, and you’re looking at him very pointedly, but he still smiles fondly at the sight of you. It’s just an unconscious thing that his face does, that it’s been doing since the day he met you. 

“Mama!” Estelle squeals, pointing at you excitedly. 

“Hi, my darling!” You wiggle your fingers at her, beaming at your little girl with enthusiasm.

“What’ve you got for me, babe?” 

“Be the best husband ever and do your daughter’s hair.” 

“Pretty sure I already am the best husband ever, but alright. Reckon her hair looks just fine the way it is, don’t you think?” He aims a sideways glance towards the toddler. Estelle’s hair is an exact replica of her father’s, tight curls that like to do whatever they want, as evident by the tornado of brown framing her chubby cheeks at the moment. Lando smacks his lips together, bobbing his head understandingly. “Yeah, okay, I’ll try my best.” 

“Thank you, love.” 

He scoops Estelle off the floor with an over-exaggerated grunt, climbing to his feet with her slung over his shoulder the way she always loves to be held by him. She shakes with peals of cute toddler giggles, patting him on the back surprisingly firm for a one year old, making him groan. “Woah, you’re getting so big and strong, Stell! C'mon, let’s go do your hair.” 

You press a grateful kiss to his cheek as he passes you, booping Estelle’s nose playfully before they make their way down the hall to the bathroom. 

Lando sets Estelle down on the bathroom counter, squinting at the items you’ve left next to the sink for him. A few combs, a small brush, a tiny water mister thing that he has no idea what to do with. 

As if you sense he’s confused, you call from the bedroom, “D’you need some help getting started?” 

“No, no. I’ve got this,” He calls back, grabbing a comb off the counter. “Dada’s got this, doesn’t he, lovebug?” 

Estelle is too preoccupied with looking at herself in the mirror to hear him, though if she did, she probably would’ve said no. He has no idea how to do her hair. Sure, he knows how to do his own hair (barely), and hers is similar to his, but it’s different. 

He pulls up the photo album he’s got on his phone of pictures of Estelle—ones he’s taken, ones you’ve sent him whilst he was away—hoping one of them will help him draw inspiration for today’s look. 

One that particularly catches his eye is a photo from the mini holiday you all took during summer break a few months ago, where Estelle’s springy curls are pulled into two bunches towards the top of her head. From what he remembers, those bunches quickly ended up smeared with applesauce, but they were adorable while they lasted. 

“Think this might be the one, how ‘bout you?” Lando turns the phone towards Estelle, showing her the photo. She aims a gummy smile at him, wiggling around happily. “Yeah, s’cute, innit? Alright, here we go.”

—

“Babe, would you c’mere for a second?” 

Lando’s voice rings out from the bathroom after twenty minutes of silence, save for the occasional giggle. You’re all done getting ready, and as much as you want to pop your head in to see what’s happening, you’ll give your husband the benefit of the doubt. You pad down the hallway as fast as your pregnancy waddle will let you, not knowing what to expect. 

“How’s it going in here, my loves?” 

Lando stands back with his hands propped on his hips, head tilted. “I think I did pretty decent, no?” 

Estelle’s got two tiny sort of space buns on her head, a little messy, but better than you were expecting, given Lando’s inexperience. She leans in your direction upon laying eyes on you, making grabby hands at you until you scoop her up. You shift her in your arms so she can see herself in the large mirror. 

“Look, baby! Who’s that over there?” You coo encouragingly, pointing at her in the mirror with a big smile. Estelle mumbles something unintelligible, patting herself on the chest happily. “That’s right, it’s you! Dada did a fantastic job with your hair, didn’t he? You look so cute!” 

Lando tosses the comb he’s holding behind his back and up over his shoulder, catching it and pretending to run it through his own curls in one smooth motion. “Call me Stell’s personal professional hairstylist.” 

He’s serious about it too, giving a straight face until you manage to come up with a response. 

“Is the racing not working out for you? Had to find another job?” You joke, chuckling lightly. He scoffs, bumping your hip with his. You reach up to give him a kiss on the cheek, then hold Estelle up too. “Give dada a kiss?” 

Estelle knows the word kiss very well. Execution, not so much, but she tries her best as she plants what has to be the world’s wettest kiss to Lando’s cheek too. A younger Lando might’ve wiped the slobber away immediately, but dad Lando has no problem with it. He’s changed a lot since his younger days, especially since becoming a first time parent. 

You’re both still navigating that journey together, but you’ll have a year and then some more experience once baby girl number two makes her arrival in t-minus two months time. But for now, you’ll cherish every moment with Estelle before your focus is split between two kids. 

“Oh, thank you for the kiss, lovebug!” Lando chirps, booping her nose gently. “Usually I’d charge top dollar for a mint hairdo like this, but I’ll take that as payment since you’re so cute. You get it from your mum, don’t ya?” 

“I dunno about that,” You hum, leaning into him. “Her dad’s pretty cute too.” 

You don’t have it in you to tell him one of Estelle’s bunches sits higher than the other, not when he’s smiling down so proudly at the two of you like you’re his world.

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter v

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 14k+

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mean relatives, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecating in some areas etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, there is one scene depicting some physical violence (tame) , finally some fluff!, and I won't spoil any more

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: OMG....ignore the fact that this is releasing a month after ch. 4. 🫠 i'm sorry. On the bright side, I'm VERY excited to share this with you AND this actually isn’t the last chapter. There’s one more after! I hope you enjoy 🥰 ALSO, this is GP!Taehyung in this chapter (....😮‍💨)

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"This can't be right," you mutter to yourself for the umpteenth time, eyes heavily fixated on your laptop screen. You've been scrolling through the latest press releases all morning, a cup of tea growing cold beside you.

Ever since Jimin’s text last week, rumors about your ex-husband stepping down from his position at JeonX practically spread like wildfire, with nearly every journalist adding their individual spin on the matter—some suggest personal issues, while others hint at possible disagreements within the company.

Despite the influx of information, however, it all remains too vague and inconclusive. An official statement from the company directly would help clear up speculations, but it’s been crickets. Their silence only makes you consider the validity of the rumors even more.

Why would they make such a critical leadership change right after their newest product launch though?

This question, among others, continuously swirl in the back of your mind and you find the entire predicament ironic. You used to be one of the first to know the ins and outs of the company, easily able to distinguish the truth. Now, you're left in the dark like everyone else, dependent on the media for answers.

Before your eyes have time to skim the next group of articles on your screen, your phone rings.

It's Taehyung.

“Hey,” you answer casually, momentarily forgetting the significance of the call.

“Morning!” His voice is gravelly yet carries a cheerful tone. He seems quite upbeat for a foggy Saturday at 8 a.m. “Are you still okay to carpool to my parents' place today? Tan and I are on our way over.”

Dammit. Of course, this isn’t just any old Saturday—it’s the day of Taehyung’s family gathering. It had slipped your mind that you asked to ride together a few days prior. Given that it would be a five-hour long commute, driving separately seemed less convenient and enjoyable. Besides, you’d miss out on having Tan on your lap, his head poking out of the passenger-side window.

“Yeah, I’m good to go,” you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel. “I’ll be ready when you get here.”

“Great! See you soon.” Taehyung hangs up, and you put your phone down with a deep breath.

To be blunt, you're still extremely nervous about the affair. Surely his family knows who you are and has seen their fair share of articles about you. So how will they react when you show up next to Taehyung at their family function? He says they’ll like you, but it's hard to accept.

Nonetheless, you know how important this family gathering is to him and how much he wants you to be there. Not only is it a family event, but it’s also a celebration of his recovery from a motorcycle accident that could’ve been much worse.

As you pour your cold cup of tea down the sink, you try to push away the unsettling mix of thoughts, focusing instead on the next task at hand— how you should dress. Prior conversations with Taehyung advise you that something polished would be ideal for the occasion, as his family appreciates a touch of elegance, yet your mind blanks on a tangible option. Surely, there’s something in the back of your closet that would do the trick. Right?

Well…you’re right-ish.

Upon searching through rows of hangers, arms growing tired, you finally find a somewhat suitable sundress. You’re hoping it won’t look too casual, but you don’t seem to have a better alternative with your closet currently overtaken by work clothes.

Wasting no further time, you quickly slip the dress over your head and observe how it fits in the mirror. Not bad, you think, before deciding on a few complimentary jewelry pieces. The saving grace of this choice of clothing is that it can easily be dolled up, which is exactly what’s needed today.

Soon, you hear the muffling of an engine and when you peek through your bedroom window, you’re unsurprised to see Taehyung’s car pull into the driveway with a very excited Tan poking his head out from the backseat. A small smile forms on your lips at the sight.

Sparing one final look in the mirror, you slide into your shoes, toss your bag over a shoulder, and head outside to meet them.

“Hey!” Per usual, you're met with a warm smile as you hop into Taehyung's car but before you can return the greeting, Tan bounds onto your lap, tail wagging eagerly. “God, I’m so sorry about him,” Taehyung reaches for his dog, but you quickly reassure him it’s alright.

“I’m happy to see you too, Tan,” you laugh, petting him affectionately. Your focus then shifts over to Taehyung, "Thanks for coming to get me."

“Of course,” he replies, smile widening as he watches Tan settle into your lap. “I’m really glad you’re coming with me," he continues, pulling away from the curb. "My parents are looking forward to meeting you.”

You nod, trying to calm your fluttering nerves. “I’m looking forward to meeting them too.” This time, when you glance his way, you take in his attire—a crisp white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and black dress pants. It’s a classic look, yet it seems oddly refreshing on him. It's not like you expected Taehyung to look bad or anything; far from it, but did he always have to look this good? A queasy feeling soon settles in the pit of your stomach...maybe you should have worn something else.

Before you're able to fully turn away from him, Taehyung speaks up. “You look really nice today,” he says softly, eyes lingering over your face and down your body before shyly refocusing on the road. “That dress is beautiful on you—it really suits you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you reply with a shy smile of your own, unexpectant of his comment. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Something about the subtle exchange of compliments stirs a bundle of nerves in both of you and even with averted eyes, neither of you finds it entirely unpleasant.

The rest of the drive is long, but luckily, soon fills with lighthearted conversation and laughter. It's become easier and easier to be around Taehyung, you think.

After more than a few bathroom breaks—mostly due to Tan’s persistent whining—you finally catch sight of Taehyung’s parent’s house.

It’s even more picturesque than you imagined, with its charming architecture and well-tended garden. In the distance, the ocean glimmers, tying the scene perfectly together.

“I meant to mention earlier, but my parents have an oceanfront view,” Taehyung says casually, pulling up to the house. “We can go down there later if you’d like. It’s private access.”

“Really?” You glance over at him with anticipation, your excitement clear. You can already taste the saltiness of the water. “If it’s really okay, I’d love that.”

“It’s more than okay,” he assures with a smile. “In fact, it’s a done deal. The best time to go is in the evening. We can even use the excuse that we need to take Tan for a little stroll if necessary. Family bonding can get a bit overwhelming without a few breaks.” He lets out a chuckle but stops when he notices your slightly demure expression.

“Hey,” he turns to you with gentle eyes. “Everything okay?”

You blink, momentarily pulled from your thoughts. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking it’s been a while since I’ve gone to any kind of family affair. They know I’m coming, right?”

Understanding your apprehension, Taehyung shifts the gear into park and places a light hand on your arm. “Absolutely, and please believe me when I say they’re more than ready and excited to meet you. They’ve asked about you so many times—I’m pretty sure I’ve lost count. I’m really happy you’re here with me too, so I hope you don’t feel like you’re intruding because I promise you’re not at all. And if at any point you need a moment to yourself, take it. I want you to feel as comfortable as possible, and I’m confident my family will want the same.”

With his hand on your arm, you find yourself wrapping yourself in the comfort of the gesture, nerves slowly easing in the process. “Thanks, Tae,” you reply, feeling a tad lighter than before.

“Are you ready?”

You nod, signaling him to remove his hand to take the key out of the ignition. As his hand leaves your arm however, you feel a subtle, unexpected shift—wishing the warmth of his touch could linger just a moment longer.

But hold up.

Since when did he affect you like this?

Dwelling on it further proves to be futile because before you can blink, the house’s front door swings wide open, revealing an older, petite woman with a kind and inviting smile. You both step out of the car immediately, Tan happily trotting around the yard confidently.

The woman pulls Taehyung into a big hug once close enough, and it’s all the evidence you need to deduce that she must be his mother.

“We were wondering where you were!” she starts. “Everyone’s here except you.” It’s a light scold, not that Taehyung minds from the giant grin spreading across his face.

“Forgive me, Mom. I guess we’re fashionably late,” he replies.

Mrs. Kim looks up and down her son with adoration, hands still gripping his arms. “Look at you,” she coos, as if proud. “My son is so handsome. I’m so happy to see you here, healthy and well.”

“Mom, this is __.”

Her eyes then shift to you, standing somewhat awkwardly beside them. If possible, her warm expression brightens even more, taking you by surprise.

“My goodness, I’m being so rude," she says, stepping toward you. "It’s wonderful to finally meet you, honey. Are you okay with hugs?”

“Sure.” You offer a sincere smile and embrace her. When you do, you feel a sense of peacefulness that you hadn’t ever before, soothing any lingering tension. You can’t help but assume that many of Taehyung’s qualities must come from her.

“I’m so pleased that my son brought you today,” she says, pulling back from the hug. She takes in your clothing as well. “You're absolutely lovely, my dear. Doesn't this color work wonderfully on her?” She glances at Taehyung, who merely nods in agreement.

“You’re the one who looks beautiful, Mrs. Kim,” you return the compliment, feeling a tad embarrassed by all the praise. “I love your earrings by the way. Are they jade?”

She nods, pleasantly. “Thank you for noticing. They’re indeed jade. My husband gifted them to me for our anniversary last year. I told him he didn’t need to get me anything, but that man is so persistent. Speaking of which, you should come inside and meet him.” She turns around at once and ushers you and Taehyung into the house. He allows you to go first.

As you follow Mrs. Kim up the steps, Tan bounds ahead excitedly. The aroma of delicious food fills the air the further you walk, and soon you’re greeted by a cozy, homey atmosphere.

Finally, you find Taehyung’s father in the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink. “Honey, Taehyung’s here and he brought __ with him.” Upon hearing your name, the man quickly dries his hands on a towel and extends a friendly hand your way, eyes twinkling.

“Hello, __! I’m glad you could come today. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. It’s gorgeous in here.”

“Well, we have our son to thank.” He directs his attention to Taehyung, reaching out and patting his son on the back with a proud smile. “He bought this house for us after all. He’s a good son.”

What?

You glance at Taehyung in surprise, intrigued to learn more about this new bit of information. However, seemingly flustered by the comment, you decide it’s better to save it for another time. His mother is quick to step in.

“Taehyung, dear, why don’t you show __ around and introduce her to everyone?” she suggests smoothly. “They’re all in the living room. We’ll gather everyone to have lunch soon.”

Taehyung nods at the suggestion and begins leading you through the house, until you reach the living room at the end of the hall. The room is even larger than you anticipated upon entering, its high ceilings finished with a delicate glass chandelier. A grand piano sits in the far corner as well where a number of children huddle together, each taking turns playing a few notes.

One by one, Taehyung starts introducing you to his relatives and despite your initial apprehension, each person you meet greets you with nothing but warmth and kindness. Not even a single person shows discomfort towards you or makes a dig into your personal life (though you’re certain they’re well aware of who you are). It’s no wonder Taehyung boasts about his family so often—they truly are a close-knit and respectable group of people.

At least, that’s what you think until Taehyung asks, “Where's Auntie and Uncle? I haven’t seen them yet.”

One of Taehyung’s cousins looks a bit hesitant before replying, “Oh, Tae, I’m sorry, but we haven’t heard anything from them so they might not be coming today. Maybe they had last-minute plans. It’s a bit of a shame, really.”

An odd silence settles over the room at this, conversations lower in volume, and a few knowing glances are exchanged among relatives. The abrupt shift seems to throw a wrench into your previous statement of closeness since, evidently, the absence of Taehyung’s aunt and uncle casts a dark shadow over the cheerful gathering.

Sensing an awkward lull, Taehyung tries to lighten the mood with a bright smile. “Well, I’m sure we’ll still have a great time. I’m just happy to see everyone here.” He gently redirects the conversation to something more upbeat, attempting to remedy the unusual tension.

Just then, a small figure bursts into the room, capturing everyone’s attention.

A little girl, no more than six or seven years old, runs straight toward Taehyung with arms outstretched. “Taetae!” she shouts, using the affectionate nickname as she latches herself around his legs.

Taehyung's face breaks into possibly the happiest grin you’ve seen in response as he kneels to lift her up effortlessly, holding her close as she giggles. “Hey, sweetheart! I missed you!” His voice is filled with affection, though there’s a hint of shock as well.

Eagerly, the little girl secures her arms around his neck. “I missed you too! Mommy and Daddy said we might not be able to come, but here we are!”

“Well, I'm so glad! Have you been a good girl for your parents?” he asks with a playful tone.

The little girl nods vigorously. “Yes! I’ve been helping Mommy with so much lately.”

“Good job!” Taehyung says, giving her a high five.

You’re unsure exactly how the two relate, but the longer you watch the interaction unfold, the more evident it becomes that Taehyung’s a natural at connecting with children. His playful demeanor and patience make it clear that he has a special way with them. It’s heartwarming to see, quite honestly.

“Taetae, who’s she?” the little girl asks suddenly, her big, curious eyes setting on you.

Taehyung smiles and gestures for you to come closer. “This is __. She’s my friend.” He looks at you and adds, “This is my little cousin Eun-ha. We’re quite close.”

“Hi, Eun-ha,” you greet with a soft smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t return your greeting, but rather leans into Taehyung’s ear and whispers something you can’t quite hear.

Taehyung chuckles softly, though it does little to conceal your curiosity. “No, Eun-ha,” he says, shaking his head. “We don’t kiss like in my movies. But yes, she's very pretty.”

Though you wish otherwise, your surprise is barely hidden as you process the revelation.

“Why not?” Eun-ha asks, puzzled. “You kiss lots of pretty people in the movies.”

Flustered, Taehyung clears his throat. “Who’s letting you watch my shows? You’re a little young for those I think.”

“She likes to watch them when she can’t see you,” a new voice interjects.

Following the voice, you see two adults entering the room– Taehyung’s aunt and uncle. Their expressions are clearly stiff and somewhat distant, a stark contrast to the warmth of the rest of the family.

“Well, I guess it’s okay then,” Taehyung responds, maintaining his usual beaming smile. “Auntie, Uncle, it’s good to see you.”

His aunt and uncle offer polite but somewhat curt greetings.

“Glad to see you’re alright, Taehyung,” his aunt says, her tone lacking warmth.

“Hello,” his uncle adds, his expression neutral. “I see you’ve brought a guest.” He nods toward you.

“Yes, this is __,” Taehyung introduces you, “She’s a friend of mine and a colleague as well.”

The pair glance at you briefly, their eyes betraying a lack of interest.

“Nice to meet you,” his aunt says, though the thickness in her tone suggests otherwise.

“Likewise,” you respond, trying to match their formality with a friendly smile.

“You know, when I heard my nephew was bringing a guest, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect,” she continues, though the implication is unclear.

“I’m sorry?” you ask, trying to grasp her meaning.

“My apologies. I work as an editor for a journalism outlet, so I’ve come across your name before,” she explains. “It’s always interesting to see people in person after reading about them. I can’t say I ever imagined having the opportunity today.”

“Oh,” you say, trying to keep your composure. “I hope the coverage has been accurate.” You know they haven’t been, aside from a couple of progressive news outlets. Based on her rigid stare, you don’t think she belongs to either of them.

“They’re accurate most of the time,” she replies, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Although, there are always…different perspectives on such matters.”

You offer a polite, tight-lipped smile in response. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, however, your hands unconsciously clench into fists at your sides, indicating your bubbling discomfort.

“Well, I’m sure those articles are just one side of the coin,” Taehyung chimes in, attempting to smooth over the conversation. “I’m of the mindset that you really don’t know a person until you spend time with them. And I can assure you, those overpriced tabloids have it all wrong.” He shoots you a reassuring look.

In the midst of it all, Taehyung’s father steps into the room, oblivious to the tension. “Alright everyone, it’s time to eat!” he announces, his voice carrying a cheerful note. “Let’s gather around now.”

Neither you nor Taehyung’s aunt speak another word to each other as you follow his father into the dining room. You take a deep breath along the way, an attempt to steady yourself.

As lunch begins, Taehyung’s father stands at the head of the table, a broad smile on his face as he raises a glass.

“We want to thank everyone for being here today to celebrate Taehyung’s recovery,” he begins, his voice filled with heartfelt sincerity. “We’re grateful for this family and for the love and support that has carried us through. To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” everyone echoes, lifting their glasses in a unified cheer.

From then on, the meal progresses smoothly, with conversation gradually returning to pleasant topics. Dishes are passed around, and laughter helps lighten the mood. Taehyung’s parents share stories of their journey together, their voices rich with wisdom and nostalgia. As you listen, you get a glimpse of the morals that have shaped their family. It’s so different from your own upbringing, and you feel honored to be a part of it today.

Yet it's still difficult to ignore the lingering heaviness in your chest from your earlier interaction with Taehyung’s aunt. Even now, her sour expression is directed your way, though she seems to withhold her remarks, perhaps due to Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s presence.

Don’t take this personally, you repeat in your head. There’s likely some underlying history or traditional views being projected onto you. This isn’t really about you…don't take it personally.

Midway through the meal, Taehyung’s mother intrigues everyone by pulling out a collection of old photographs. She begins sharing the backstories of various childhood photos of Taehyung, the corners of her eyes crinkling with joy and amusement as she recounts each memory. Taehyung, visibly flustered, tries to hide his blush as his family teases him.

“Oh, look at this one!” his mother exclaims, holding up a particularly old photo of a much younger Taehyung with a hilariously exaggerated hairstyle. “He was so determined to be a rock star!”

The room bursts into laughter, and Taehyung grins sheepishly, his cheeks rosy. “Is this really necessary? I mean __’s here…”

“Come on, Tae, it’s cute!” you say with a smile, giving his arm a playful shove. As you do, Taehyung’s aunt’s eyes widen slightly. Her gaze shifts sharply between you two, and a flicker of disapproval crosses her face. You stop your playfulness upon first notice, finding it hard to ignore.

“It’s embarrassing,” Taehyung retorts, unaware of his aunt’s reaction.

“Oh hush,” his mother replies with a warm smile. “Let a mother indulge in the memories of her children. You’re all grown up now, and with your busy schedule, I hardly see you anymore.”

“Alright, fair point,” Taehyung concedes. “Carry on.”

When the meal winds down, Taehyung’s aunt clears her throat and speaks up. “Is everyone ready for dessert? I’ve baked a homemade cake,” she announces, tone carrying a hint of forced cheerfulness. Turning to you, she adds, “Would you mind assisting me in the kitchen, __? I could use an extra hand.”

Taehyung immediately offers to help, but his aunt insists on speaking with you alone, masking it as an opportunity to get to know you better.

Once you’re in the kitchen and away from prying eyes and ears, Taehyung’s aunt’s demeanor shifts abruptly. She returns to her previous blunt and unreserved nature. “I need to be honest with you,” she begins, her voice low and steely. “I don’t think you should be here.”

Her words sting, yet a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s some merit to them.

“I know this is a family event, and I’m sorry if it seems like I’m intruding. Taehyung invited me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she dismisses, venom lacing her tone. “I mean, you shouldn’t be here with Taehyung.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to—”

“Oh please, don’t pretend I don’t have eyes, Ms. __,” she interjects sharply. The use of your formal name sends a chill down your spine. “You may be friends now, but I can see there’s more going on beneath the surface. Unlike the rest of my family, I won’t just stand by and let it happen. So, if you think you can charm your way into my nephew’s life just like you did with that ex-husband of yours, then you’re mistaken. I won’t allow you to ruin his life.”

Ruin his life? You ruined Jungkook’s life and now you are about to ruin Taehyung’s? Confused and hurt, you finally realize the root of the matter–she's convinced you’re a gold digger.

You’re stunned by the accusation, struggling to find words as she continues. “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind either. Even if the articles aren’t exactly true, you still have a past, and Taehyung deserves better—someone without all these complications. Don’t you agree? Maybe if you hadn’t been married before and were ten years younger, things might be different. But honestly? A woman your age should already have a family of her own.”

Silence falls heavily in the kitchen after her final words, the only sound being your labored breaths. Your throat goes dry and your hands clammy as some of your deepest insecurities take root, striking right at your core.

It’s true—you’re 30 years old, divorced, and without children. It’s a stark contrast to your peers.

You’d always imagined your life turning out differently, but here you are, alone and without any kind of companionship. You weren’t expecting to be reminded of it all today.

“I think you’ve made yourself clear about how you feel,” a voice speaks up, and you think it’s yours, until you realize it’s much too deep.

Taehyung’s aunt looks momentarily stunned to see her nephew standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. But she quickly regains her composure. “Taehyung, I was just—”

“Please don’t,” he interrupts, voice firm. “If I had known you were going to be this cruel towards someone I deeply care about, then I’m sorry I invited you.”

He steps closer, his gaze unwavering. “You have no right to judge someone you don’t know based on rumors and assumptions.”

His aunt’s face softens, though her disapproval remains. “I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t need you to protect me from my own choices,” Taehyung replies, his voice calmer. “I’ve made my own decisions, and __ is a part of that. If you can’t respect that, then maybe you should reconsider how you approach these situations.”

Taehyung’s aunt stands silent for a moment, her gaze shifting between Taehyung and you. She seems to weigh his words before finally nodding and turning back towards the dining room, her displeasure still evident.

Taehyung turns to you, his face etched with worry. “Are you alright?”

You hesitate, unable to give a clear response. “I… I think I need some air,” you finally say.

“Maybe it’s time we take that walk down to the beach,” he suggests gently. “What do you think? Of course, if you’d prefer to go solo, that’s completely your call too. I’ll understand either way.”

You nod, appreciating the idea. “I’d like you to come with me.”

“Let me grab Tan and we can head down,” Taehyung says with a reassuring smile.

The sound of the waves grows louder as you approach the ocean, providing a soothing backdrop to your racing thoughts. It's even more beautiful up close, you think, observing how the sun reflects off the water.

As you walk along the shore, Tan runs ahead, chasing the waves and barking playfully. The sight of him brings a small smile to your face, easing some of the heaviness in your chest.

Taehyung walks beside you, his presence peaceful, though neither of you are quick to speak.

Finally, after a few minutes pass, he breaks the silence.

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there," he says quietly. "My aunt's always had more traditional perspectives, but I didn’t know how rigid they’d gotten. Regardless of how she might've made you feel, I want you to know that you’re very important to me and I couldn't care less about what the public says. The rest of my family seems to love you too so far."

You take a deep breath, the salty air filling your lungs. “It’s not your fault, Taehyung. But thank you.” You pause, your face visibly conflicted. “To be honest, I’ve heard variations of it before from other people. I just didn’t expect her to be so… direct.”

He nods, turning to you with sincerity. “I know it was hurtful, and even though I didn’t hear everything she said, you didn’t deserve it. It's not true, either.”

You manage a small, tight-lipped smile, but it hardly matches how you feel inside. “Well,” you begin, continuing your walk, “some of it's true, I think.” Taehyung looks at you with concern, though you struggle to hold his gaze.

“Wanna sit?” he suggests lightly, gesturing to a spot on the beach with a clear view of the waves ahead. "Tan'll be fine to roam around on his own."

You nod slowly in reply, a gentle breeze caressing your face and feathering against your legs as you move.

Once you reach the area, you tuck the skirt of your dress beneath your thighs and take a seat on the soft sand. Taehyung sits down beside you.

“So,” he starts again, his eyes never leaving your face, “what’s true?"

You take a moment, watching the waves crash against the shore before forming a response. “It’s just…” Your voice falters as you search for the right words. “I’m 30 years old. The natural course for someone my age is to have a family, a couple of kids, and of course, be married. Or at the very least, have a reliable romantic partner.”

“Instead,” you take a short breath, “it feels like I’m living in a completely different reality from everyone else. Divorced from a big shot CEO, without children, and painted as some kind of spinster or gold digger for the media to exploit. Being a woman, there's really no in-between which makes it that much harder to overcome."

Upon finishing your thought, an unmistakable nervousness bubbles up within you. Had you just overshared? Were you too honest? Although unsettled, everything in you hopes that you didn't just overstep your boundaries with Taehyung, as the two of you hadn't had this deep of a conversation before. You find yourself holding your breath as he replies.

"To have all that unnecessary pressure placed on you is unfair,” he says quietly. “I can’t imagine how tough it must be to feel disregarded and reduced to so little. I'm so sorry, __. I'm sorry that we gets so fixated on image and what’s deemed proper that we often forget the real meaning behind things. I know it might be hard to believe, but there’s more to your story than what others see or say. More than even you might think, too."

As if inevitable, your vision goes misty and a tear spills down your cheek upon hearing his words, though you're quick to wipe it away. It's not that the words themselves are monumental, but rather, they confirm the closeness of your relationship. Few people have ever understood or cared to understand you, so you had stopped expecting it altogether, especially after your divorce. Yet somehow, Taehyung always surprises you, being one of the few who truly does.

Feeling a bit more comfortable, you admit, "I know it's probably an overstatement, but I can't help but feel like I'm alone in ways that are hard to escape. Some days I just don't know what to do with it all. Does that make sense?"

“Sweetheart,” Taehyung says softly, taking the hand you used to wipe your tears and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his touch sends a comforting spark through you. He’s never called you that before, and it feels unexpectedly intimate—almost domestic, if you didn’t know better.

“It makes complete sense, especially given what you've gone through and still are. You don’t ever have to feel alone anymore though,” he continues. “I’m here for you. You have Jimin and Namjoon too. And the three of us? We’ll always have your back.”

Your eyes soften as you meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with such warmth and innocence, yet he hasn’t fully grasped the weight of your words.

“I appreciate it,” you say gratefully. “It’s not all one-dimensional, though. When I say I feel alone, I mean relationally as well because, given my age and marital status, it's unlikely I'll find any real companionship. I’m just considered ‘used goods' after all.”

“Used goods? Who the hell said you're used?” Taehyung’s voice rises, not in anger but in genuine offense. Amid his reaction, his hand slips from yours.

“Our entire society?” you retort, raising your voice before lowering it again, realizing he means well. You pull your legs up to your chin and hug them. “I’m divorced, Tae. I’m no beauty queen. Just used goods, as I said.”

You both stare out into the distance, falling into a brief silence.

“Well, I for one think you’re very gorgeous,” he says softly, still gazing ahead. “So please, don’t call yourself used. You’re definitely not.”

“Tae—”

“Do you wish you were still married?” he interjects gently, eyes returning to yours, searching for the truth. He wants to add, To Jungkook? but keeps it to himself, not deeming it his business.

You take a moment to process his question before responding.

“Some days I do,” you admit. “Not just with anyone, though. I’ve already learned my lesson the hard way. Jimin tried setting me up with a few of his coworkers a while back, but I declined. They’re so far away that I doubt anything would work out. Plus, not to be harsh but who in their right mind would risk it with me anyway?”

“I mean...I would,” he replies almost immediately, insistence in his voice. There's no trace of bluff at all and for a moment, your heart feels like it's doing about a hundred somersaults in your chest. Taehyung's seriousness makes it seem like he means it in a deeper way, but it can't be—he’s merely speaking figuratively because of your closeness.

“Of course you would,” you reply, grabbing his hand again and smiling gratefully. “Because you love me, right?”

You pose the question playfully, feeling your mood lift slightly, but Taehyung’s expression turns stunned, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I do,” he finally murmurs, deep and meaningful, a soft glimmer in his eyes. “I really do.”

"Hu-" you choke on your words, still trying to process his. You never finish, though, as Taehyung suddenly moves to stand up, a newfound cheekiness taking precedence over his face.

“Come on,” he says, “on a warm day like this, we should find a way to enjoy ourselves. Dance with me.”

“What?” you ask, though to be honest, you're not surprised by his spontaneity. “Dancing is a no, Tae. You know I have zero rhythm.”

He doesn’t reply to your argument but instead draws his phone from his pocket, tapping around until light jazz music starts playing. He turns up the volume as loud as he can before placing it on the ground beside you.

“What are you doing?” you watch as he begins swaying his body from side to side, snapping his fingers when the beat feels right.

“I’m dancing by myself since you refuse to get up.”

You laugh, “I happen to like it this way. You can be my source of entertainment.” You adjust yourself so your legs are stretched out in front of you, feet crossed as you lean back on your arms.

He chuckles and continues dancing in small circles. You feel a little guilty the longer you watch. But then...

“__,” he calls your name, low and raspy. He steps over towards you and leans down until he's face to face with you. You like the way the sun glows down on his face, and the thought crosses your mind—he looks incredibly handsome. “__,” he calls your name again, and you realize you've been staring a little too long.

“Sorry,” you reply. “Sun’s making me dazed.”

He gives his usual boxy smile, and damn, why are you feeling so affected by him today? It’s not usually this much.

“Will you please dance with me? I don’t mind dancing by myself, but I prefer a partner.” He pouts and you know you’re done for.

“I’m not going to be good though,” you reply, reluctantly rising from your comfortable seated position. Taehyung pulls you into his hold the moment you’re on your feet. It's a little rougher than he meant, and your bodies accidentally collide in the process.

“Shit, my bad,” he says, taking a small step back.

“It’s fine," you assure, doing the same but not before catching a whiff of his cologne. You can't quite place the scent, but it’s nice...really, really nice.

As the music continues to play, you both sway gently to the rhythm. Taehyung’s touch is warm and steady as he guides you through each simple step. You feel a strange sense of comfort and safety in his arms, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away.

“I didn’t realize you were such a good dancer,” you start. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”

He spins you gently, and you let out a surprised laugh, the sound mingling with the soft notes of the jazz music. “I had to take ballroom dancing lessons for a role I played years ago,” he replies smoothly, “but I enjoyed it, so I kept it up.” When you come back to him, he holds you a little tighter, and the closeness feels more intimate and special than you anticipated.

“You’re doing great, by the way,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Even with barely any practice."

“All thanks to you,” you reply, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I guess it’s kinda fun.”

“See? Not so bad,” he says with a triumphant grin.

You glance towards the ocean, feeling a rush of spontaneity yourself. “The water looks so inviting. We should go in.”

He quirks a brow, taking in both of your more formal attire. “Dressed like this?” he asks.

You don’t answer. Instead, you slide out of his hold and run towards the water, laughing and splashing him once he’s close enough behind you.

“Hey! This was expensive!” he shouts, but there's no threat in his voice, only amusement.

“Well, you shouldn’t have worn it around me then!” you tease, splashing him again.

Now nearly drenched, Taehyung huffs and bends down to scoop water into his palm. “You’re gonna get it…” You back away quickly, but he follows after you. “Come here, I have a very special gift for you __,” he says mischievously, water spilling from his hand as he chases you.

You both end up playing in the water for the next ten minutes, splashing and laughing until you find yourself regaining confidence. At some point, Taehyung unexpectedly tackles you from behind, his arms wrapping so tightly around your waist that no amount of movement would free you.

You find yourselves too lost in amusement to notice your closeness until small droplets of water begin falling from above.

"Was that rain?" You stop all movement, but his grip doesn’t loosen. "Tae?" You call his name when it seems he doesn’t register your question, twisting your head over your shoulder to peer at him.

“Oh…um, sorry,” he finally stammers, a faint blush rising to his cheeks as he realizes the tight hold he has on you. His body flushes against your back.

“No, it’s okay…” you struggle to conceal a blush of your own, the warmth of his embrace a little overpowering. "So, I think we should head back. I'm pretty sure it's raining."

He nods and slowly unwraps his arms from around you. "I agree, but where's Tan?" His eyes frantically scan around the beach. "Tan!" he calls, and soon, two fluffy, slightly damp ears pop out from behind a rock.

"Aww," you exclaim, bending down to pick up the little dog when he trots over. "Look at him. We neglected the baby."

Taehyung snorts at your remark. "He'll be okay. It barely started."

You pretend to cover Tan's ears and shoot Taehyung a faux alarmed expression. "He can hear you, you know."

Taehyung chuckles and gently cups Tan’s face while he nestles in your arms, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head. “Sorry, buddy,” he says with a grin. As he looks up, he catches a prolonged gaze in your eyes and raises an eyebrow. “What? You want one too?”

“Oh, uhm, no,” you laugh, a bit nervously, shaking your head. “It’s just nice to see you so endearing.” You think back to how Taehyung had interacted so sweetly with his younger cousin, Eun-ha, earlier. It’s a side of him you're finding increasingly appealing.

Taehyung's gaze softens as he replies, “I like to take care of those I love.”

Love, you repeat quietly to yourself. It sounds so different when he says it.

You smile and, side by side, head back to the house.

The faint drizzle of rain quickly turns into a downpour, with a flash of lightning illuminating the sky and thunder rumbling in the distance. Despite the potential inconvenience, Taehyung’s parents insist that it would be better for both of you to wait until morning to drive back.

"It isn't safe," his mom advises, fluffing a pillow in the guest bedroom. "The two of you can stay here for the night. I’d offer the living room sofa too, but some of your cousins are staying over as well."

"Thanks, Mom," Taehyung replies, and when she leaves the room he casts a brief glance your way. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“What? No, you can sleep in the bed with Tan." You pause, eyes scanning the room for an alternative spot. “This chair looks pretty comfortable. I’ll grab a blanket and make do.”

"Okay no, I’m not letting you sleep on that old, dusty chair and risk waking up with a giant kink in your neck.” Taehyung places his hands on his hips, his tone firm. “Why don’t we just sleep in the bed together? For some inexplicable reason, my parents chose to put a California King in here so there should be plenty of room. I’ll even sleep on top of the covers.”

“No, it's fine. Tan needs his space."

“Sweetheart." There it is again, that same petname from earlier. Why do you not seem to hate it? "Tan is so tiny he’ll literally curl between us," he argues, though it does little to convince you.

“Tae, I told you it’s—”

“Alright, I’ll take the chair then-” Taehyung starts to move toward it, but stubbornly, you block his path. There's no way he's sleeping on a chair when you're the guest here.

“You will do no such thing!" Naturally, you place your hands on your hips. “This is your home—well, your parent's home and I won't be subjecting you to sleep on something that small. Seriously Tae, I'd fit much better on it than you would given our height differences.”

A small, frustrated sigh escapes him as he counters, “I'd really rather you be comfortable, especially in an unfamiliar environment. So can we please stop arguing about this? It’s really unnecessary. Either I take the chair or we both find a way to share the bed. You can’t tell me you and Jimin never shared a bed before, and he’s your friend too!"

“Yes, but that’s different,” you insist. “Jimin and I have been friends for years! There’s a strong trust built between us.”

“What do you mean by that? You don’t trust me?” His face mirrors that of a sad, puppy-dog.

“Tae, it’s not that at all,” you say softly, trying to sound reassuring. “I do trust you. It’s just… I guess I just meant that Jimin and I have a long history together. We’ve grown very comfortable with each other in ways you and I haven’t yet.”

Taehyung’s brows furrow in concern. “What are you really worried about, __?”

You shrug, feeling a bit flustered. “Nothing…”

Your mind immediately drifts back to the beach—how he listened, held your hand gently, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, and what it felt like to be held so close under the rain. Everything felt so genuine, warm, and openly vulnerable.

You share similar feelings with Jimin, but they have limits as you are definitely only friends… best friends, to be precise. With Taehyung, you figured it would be the same; however, after today, you're realizing more and more how unsure you are of where the limits are (or where you want them to be), and it startles you.

But it’s not this alone that fuels your apprehension tonight— there’s something else.

“You know I won’t do anything right?” Taehyung asks, his voice earnest. “I sleep with five pillows!”

You raise an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Five? What the hell, Tae? Are you a princess?”

“Yes,” Taehyung says, more nonchalantly than expected, “but stop deflecting. It sounds weird and a bit kinky, but why won’t you sleep in the bed with me?”

Should you tell him?

Your expression grows serious as you explain, “Because it can be very intimate,” you murmur softly. “Maybe I'm overthinking it all, but the last time I shared a bed with someone it...uhm...it was…”

“...with your ex-husband,” Taehyung finishes for you, his tone gentle with understanding. His eyes soften as he looks at you.

“Yes…” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s silly, but I haven’t done it in a long time. Even Jimin and I haven’t shared a bed in years.”

“I’m sorry…” Taehyung says, his voice filled with genuine regret.

“Tae, you don’t have to be sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “It’s my own issue. I’ll just sleep on the chair, alright? It’s only one night.”

“Not happening, you’ll take the bed with Tan.”

“Seriously,” you start to protest, but he’s already moving toward the foot of the bed with determination in his eyes. He grabs the blanket from the end and rushes over to the chair with haste. You run after him, pulling at his arm, and both of you end up laughing, the tension gradually breaking.

“It's been a very long day and I'm quite tired, __. How about turning off the lights, please?” He spreads out the blanket and settles into the chair with a satisfied sigh. Then, there’s a loud creak followed by a distinct cracking sound.

“Fuck—” Taehyung swears as the chair suddenly collapses under his weight. He rises from his seat, grimacing at the broken chair. “I knew it was old, but damn, I didn’t think it was that old.”

“Shit, please tell me this wasn't a family heirloom or something.”

“Uh… I don’t think so?” Taehyung scratches his head, looking sheepish. “I’ll let my mom know in the morning. It’ll be fine, okay? No worries. But, um, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.” Taehyung then grabs a couple pillows and a blanket and starts forming a makeshift bed on the floor. While you watch him, your heart softens despite your exhaustion.

“Alright, enough,” you sigh, exasperated. “If we keep this up, we’ll just be going in circles all night. Let’s just share the bed, Tae. It’s not worth you being uncomfortable.”

Taehyung looks up, concern written over his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable either. I’m happy to—”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, doing your best not to overthink it. “You're the one who'll be driving for five hours tomorrow anyway, so let’s just get some decent rest. It's okay, really.”

After a good long pause, you both end up climbing into the bed, each taking your own side as Tan curls himself at the foot of the bed. Taehyung reaches over to turn off the light, but despite the calmness of the room, you find yourself unable to sleep right away. You’re unaware he feels similarly until he unexpectedly breaks the silence.

“Are you warm enough?” he asks quietly. “We have more blankets if you need them.”

You turn slightly toward him. “I’m okay for now, but thanks for checking.”

He gives a soft, reassuring smile. “Alright. Just let me know if you need anything. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, Tae.” You roll back onto your side and close your eyes. “You too.”

As the night deepens, the storm outside continues its relentless drumming against the windows. At some point, Taehyung jolts awake to a faint but unmistakable sound.

He blinks groggily at first, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains. Then he notices your restless movements and hears you murmuring softly in your sleep, a note of distress in your voice.

"__?" he asks quietly, still half-asleep. "Are you okay?"

When you don’t respond, he shifts closer, concerned by the unease on your face. Seeing your share of the blankets has slipped off, he gently tugs them back over you, making sure they cover you comfortably.

Amid the movement, a muddled groan escapes your lips—something between a whimper and a sigh, "Mmm… no…"

It doesn't take a genius to figure out you must be having a nightmare of some sort. “It’s just a dream,” he whispers soothingly, brushing a stray hair from your face. “You’re safe here with me.”

He gently takes your slightly trembling hand and holds it gently in his. “I’m right here, __,” he sighs softly. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here.”

Taehyung isn’t sure how much time passes before your restlessness stops, but he stays awake, hand clutching yours until it does. Eventually, assuming you’ve finally entered a more peaceful sleep, he releases your hand and rolls onto his side.

What he doesn't expect is for you to unconsciously follow him over, your body snuggling against his back. The warmth of your body against his is comforting, but he knows he can't let you stay there and risk any awkwardness in the morning. So with the utmost care, he rolls over to face you and gently adjusts your body until you're lying comfortably on your back again.

"I hope you'll be able to sleep better now," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the storm. "Goodnight."

Following the reunion, you and Taehyung part ways with mutual thank-yous and promises to see each other soon.

Time seems to vanish afterward as you find yourself increasingly buried under an endless pile of work projects. Apparently, over the weekend, a notable investor reached out to your company with hopes of setting up a meeting.

Namjoon is nearly tripping over his words when he relays the message to you.

"Can you believe it?" Your secretary stands within a foot from your desk, excitement evident in his voice. "They want to meet with us! This could be huge for our company."

You share his enthusiasm but your need to remain holistic in the matter tempers your ability to feel overly zealous. Meetings with investors always carry significant opportunities; however, there's no guarantee a deal will be struck. Truthfully, it depends on a number of factors, their level of interest outweighing them all.

Plus, every meeting requires extensive preparation—late nights where you tirelessly hunch over your computer, perfecting every detail of the pitch and this one promises to be no different.

"Did they happen to mention a time or date for further discussion?" you ask, matter-of-factly. Namjoon nods, pulling out his phone.

"Yes, they suggested next Wednesday at 10 AM.”

You weigh the proposal in your mind. “That should give us enough time to get everything in order, then,” you conclude. “Please put it in our calendar and let them know we’ll be ready to meet on that day.”

From then on, the remainder of your week unfolds exactly as you anticipate—relentless preparation, long nights, and meticulous planning until the small of your back aches for relief. One might say it's an exaggeration, but the only breaks you can afford are for primal necessities like eating, sleeping, and using the bathroom.

Even your weekend is spent within the walls of your home office, a far cry from previous weekends when you used to visit the book café or meet up with Taehyung.

Speaking of which, you haven’t really gotten to see each other since his family gathering and though it was only a week ago, the lack of his presence leaves you feeling a bit disheartened. He replied to your text yesterday, but even so, it was brief—something about a new project or talk show interview was keeping him busy as well.

By the time Wednesday arrives, your neck is so riddled with the stress of the upcoming investor meeting that you can barely focus on your proposal notes. Everything in you hopes that the investors will be impressed enough to partner with you, but thinking about it does nothing except heighten your nervousness.

In search of some kind of solace, your mind wanders to Taehyung instead. The memory of the small dance you shared with him on the beach is once again vivid, as if it happened just moments ago—the soft sand beneath your feet, the sound of the waves, and the way his gentle hands gripped around your waist.

But why does this memory, out of all the possibilities, feel so soothing?

You've been struggling to come to a plausible conclusion since the day it happened, yet deep down, you know it’s not as trivial as it seems. You miss it, your subconscious hums, you miss him.

Just then, Namjoon pokes his head into your office, signaling that the investors have arrived in the conference room. You send a curt nod in reply and gather your notes, refocusing your mind on the task at hand; everything else will have to wait.

Turns out, you might have been a bit too pessimistic about the investor meeting. They’re surprisingly pleased with your plans and proposals, nodding along to each of your points. However, their request for a day or two to reach a final decision catches you a tad off guard.

Rather than grapple with the uncertainty though, you decide to mentally prepare for whatever comes next... starting by decompressing at the bar downtown, a glass of their strongest alcohol in hand.

At first, finding a seat proves to be a challenge as you navigate through a sea of sweaty bodies. But luck, seemingly on your side, provides you with an empty chair at the far end of the bar. While you sit and order your drink, you can't help but wonder what Taehyung might be doing tonight. Should you text him to see if he’d join you, even if only for fifteen minutes?

Slipping your phone from the side pocket of your bag, you curse silently at your apparent haste. Your subconscious was right—you really have missed him, damn.

All at once, your thoughts are put to an abrupt stop when you take a quick glance around the bar, your gaze unprepared to land on two familiar silhouettes at the opposite end—Namjoon, with Taehyung next to him, drinks in hand. You don’t know how you failed to notice them before. They’re laughing, clearly enjoying each other’s company, and for a moment, your face lifts into a smile.

But that smile quickly fades when you catch sight of two women sauntering over to join them. Your initial joy is swiftly replaced by a sharp sting of jealousy and you chastise yourself for the feeling. Who are you to react this way? Taehyung can do whatever he wants—why should you care who he’s out with?

Forcing yourself to shake off the feeling, you take a sip of your drink, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the group. It’s obvious that the taller of the two women, arguably as stunning as Taehyung, is laser-focused on him, her hand brushing his arm lightly as she laughs at whatever joke he’s just told. Probably a dumb one, you think bitterly; it's obvious she's not just there for the humor and booze. It's strange to witness, as you've only known Taehyung to allow a few, select women to touch him so openly—his mother, his onscreen cast members, and you.

Okay __, stop, you scold yourself. This is a bad idea; you’re getting too involved for your own good. Hastily, you finish your drink and head out of the bar, the cool night air brushing against your skin. If Taehyung goes home with her, it’s none of your business.

You're barely a few feet outside the bar's door when you hear commotion echo from a nearby alley. Alarmed, you whip towards the noise, your eyes widening in disbelief. There, in the dim light, you see your ex-husband doubled over, clutching his stomach, while a shadowy figure stands in front of him, fist clenched.

You’re not sure where the courage comes from, but within seconds, you're springing to action, racing towards the scene with a surge of adrenaline. “Hey!” you shout as loudly as you can. The attacker glances back, frazzled, then bolts into the night, leaving Jungkook hunched against the alley wall.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask frantically, rushing to his side and helping him to his feet. He flinches away from your touch initially, his face a mix of panic and agony. “It’s me, Jungkook. It's __. Can you hear me? It’s okay, I’m here,” you reassure him the best you can, hoping to ease him.

Jungkook takes a few shaky breaths, body still weak as he struggles to hold himself up against the wall. His eyes are glazed, and he seems disoriented. “I… I didn’t expect you,” he mutters, his voice strained.

Offering him an arm, you help him steady himself. “Let’s get you out of here, okay?” He nods weakly, and as you guide him towards the parking lot and into the light, you ask, "What happened back there? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

Jungkook sighs, wincing slightly. “No, it’s... I’m fine. He was just a kid—no more than 21. Angry, probably a little drunk, and accused me of being the reason his father got fired. At first, I was confused, but then I vaguely recognized him as being one of our employee’s sons. Pretty sure it was my dad who fired his—I was probably just an easier target."

You both fall into a contemplative silence as you continue walking. Of course Jungkook's father, the chairman of the company, would be behind this, you think. Previous times spent with him had shown you how ruthless he could be when it came to the "well-being" of his company. Whoever the kid was, he probably had a right to be angry, but physically taking it out on Jungkook wasn’t justifiable by any means.

“You sure you don’t need a doctor?” you ask, glancing at him with concern.

He shakes his head dismissively, "Don't worry about me," he replies. "A couple of punches to the gut won't kill me. I think it's about time I head home though."

You nod in agreement. “Where did you park?”

He points to a spot on the far left side of the parking lot, and you nearly groan at the sight. “Did you have to bring your bike tonight?” you ask, a hint of exasperation in your voice.

Jungkook gives a weak smile, understanding the inconvenience of the situation. “Thought I’d ride it in case I needed to get somewhere fast,” he replies, his voice strained but with a touch of humor.

"Come on," you say, walking him toward your car instead. "We might not be married anymore, but there’s no way in hell I'm letting you ride your bike home in this condition. You can pick it up tomorrow."

Jungkook chuckles weakly. “Damn, and to think we were about to ride it together for old times’ sake. You used to be pretty good with my motorcycle back when you were my girlfriend, __." You roll your eyes, patience thinning. If this is another one of his sexual advances, you’re long over it.

"Yeah, well, that was before Taehyung’s accident scared me half to death," you retort. "And for the record, I was never your girlfriend. We went from work partners straight to I do." You open the passenger door and help him into the seat, giving him a gentle shove. "Now sit tight and no more motorcycle talk."

Jungkook leans back and raises an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “Well, what are we gonna talk about then? It’s a twenty-minute drive to my place.”

You slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine, giving him the go-ahead to enter his address into your car’s GPS. “Are you really whining already?”

As Jungkook taps away on the GPS, you’re suddenly reminded of a series of past car trips you shared with him. It’s almost like déjà vu.

“Seriously, __,” he starts, allowing his playful demeanor to fade. “Thank you for doing this for me. I know we… well, we aren’t exactly on the best terms.”

From the corner of your eye, you observe the way he aimlessly stares out the window, unsure whether to meet your gaze.

"We may not be in the best place, but that doesn’t mean I’d just leave you there," you sigh, gripping the steering wheel tighter. A long pause follows afterward until the question that's been gnawing at you finally slips from your lips. "How's everything with the company?"

Seemingly unfazed, as if he’d been anticipating the question, Jungkook replies, “I’m guessing you’ve heard the rumors.”

“Hard not to,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Well, it's um... it's a sabbatical. I know it's probably a shock, right? My father isn’t too thrilled about it, so he’s delayed the official announcement until we reach a final consensus. But things have been... complicated. Our newest product launched recently, and it’s doing well, but now I think I need some time for myself. To take a step back.”

Well, shit.

Even with all the rumors, you never would have guessed in a million years that the truth of the matter was an impending sabbatical. Jungkook has always been the type to work himself until his hands bleed, so this is the last reason you expected to hear.

“I’m glad to hear you’re finally letting yourself have a break, but honestly, it doesn’t sound like you at all. Feel free not to share, but what do you mean by ‘complicated’?” The way he frames it sounds almost ominous.

“You really want to know?” He finally glances at you for the first time since getting into the car, his eyes carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“Only if you want to share,” you reply cautiously.

He looks down at his hands, gathering his thoughts. “So, remember when we last saw each other a few months back? Well, I’ve been reflecting a lot on our relationship since then. I know I wasn’t fair to you, __, and I really wish I could take it all back. You never deserved any of it. I was incredibly selfish and I’m truly sorry.”

You remain silent, thrown off by how quickly everything circles back to your fragile past together. Still, you allow him to speak.

"Before we parted ways, you suggested I see a professional, and… I thought I'd finally take your advice for once. It’s strange because I’d never gone before, but…”

He pauses, searching for the right words. “I’m starting to understand a lot about myself—why I react the way I do and how I handle things. It’s been tough, but I’m trying. I guess I’m taking this sabbatical because I need to figure myself out, away from work, so I can be better and stop hurting people around me."

For the first time in a long time, as you listen to your ex-husband, you realize he's beginning to sound genuinely mature. If it's true that he's been seeing a therapist and taking a sabbatical to prioritize his well-being, then you're extremely proud of him.

Yet, a small part of you remains stubborn, wishing he had made these changes earlier—imagine where you might be now if he had.

“Thank you for being open enough to share this with me," you respond slowly, careful not to misspeak. "Though I’m still a little surprised, I have to say I’m really proud of you for seeking help. I’ve been seeing someone as well, and it took me some time to settle in too, but I suppose that’s part of the healing process—being uncomfortable to an extent. We’ve had our share of challenges with one another, but despite everything, I’ll always wish the best for you, Jungkook—including your health and mental well-being.”

As you pull into the driveway of his house, parking the car near the front door, Jungkook takes a deep breath and turns to you, visibly affected. "It means a lot that you'd say that, __," he starts hesitantly, hands fidgeting in his lap. "I know I've made a lot of mistakes, and I understand if you can't forgive me completely. But I want you to know that I am sorry. I wasn’t fair to you and I'm not proud of my behavior at all."

You nod in response, a small, tight-lipped smile forming. His remorse for the past is finally sincere, yet even now, as he looks at you with those hopeful eyes—the same ones you carried for months on end—you know he's searching for more than just your forgiveness.

But this time, you don’t think you can offer him more than that.

Because while you grew fond of him during your marriage, you've come to realize how unearned and misplaced that affection was. He broke your heart not once, but twice. And although you can never hate him, deep down, you can't ignore the lingering sting you feel when you're around him.

It's both sobering and eye-opening.

So, rather than reversing into old emotions, you simply say, "I believe you, Jungkook, and I think with time I'll be able to forgive you. If there’s ever a time when you’re in dire need of help, like tonight, I’ll do my best to be there. I’m afraid that’s as far as we can go, though."

It’s written all over his face that it’s not what he was hoping to hear, but respectfully, he doesn’t press further.

"I understand," he says, fingers reaching to for the passenger door handle. "Thank you again for being there for me tonight, and for driving me home. Please feel free to reach out if you ever need me as well. I hope for the best for you too, however and with whoever you choose."

The two of you exchange a brief look of gratitude before he finally pulls the door open and steps out of the car, making his way to his front door.

"Have a good night, and rest up," you call out to him. He smiles, gives a wave, and heads inside.

As you slowly back out of the driveway, you sigh, leaving only one person ruminating in your mind: Taehyung.

Then, inevitably, images of the stunning woman at the bar with him intrude your thoughts, stirring a deep, unsettling emotion within you.

Does it really matter that much who he's out with?

Are you really that jealous about it?

Mentally, you go back and forth as if plucking petals from a large sunflower… Yes. No. Yes. No. Until—Silence.

You can't seem to give a straight answer. It's like the closer you and Taehyung grow, the more undefinable and knotted your feelings become. Yet, the further apart you are, the more unnatural it feels...

Well, your indecisiveness doesn’t get any better by Friday because, finally, after what feels like an eternity, you and Taehyung have plans.

You’re heading out for dinner at a restaurant of his choosing tonight, as he insisted you go somewhere new. Where could it be? You have no clue, and while surprises aren’t usually your thing, his enthusiasm when you confirmed plans earlier has left you intrigued. There’s also this faint, inexplicably giddy feeling in your stomach that won’t go away, coinciding with a slight nervousness.

With such a seemingly important occasion, you find yourself in front of your bedroom mirror, twisting from side to side in what’s probably the fifth outfit you’ve tried on. But nothing seems to fit quite right. You’re feeling especially frustrated to be frank, as something that usually takes you twenty minutes is turning into a whole hour.

You end up tossing one final dress over your head—a bit more elegant for the occasion, but it’s one of the few items you own that accentuates your body down to the last detail. The dress hugs around your waist and falls just above your knees, its rich color perfectly complementing your skin tone. But isn’t it a little revealing? The neckline dips down further than you remember.

Crap—the alarm on your phone suddenly chimes, reminding you that Taehyung's arriving in ten minutes. You're running out of time.

"You’re being ridiculous. It’ll be fine,” you reassure yourself, smoothing down the skirt of the dress. “You're just friends. He won’t care.”

“Friends” stings more than you anticipated, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a deflated feeling in your chest.

Nevertheless, you give yourself one last look in the mirror, apply a quick swipe of lipstick, and head downstairs. Just as you finish slipping on your shoes and grabbing your purse from the coat rack, the doorbell rings, causing your heart to leap from your chest.

Deciding to rip it off like a band-aid, you toss open the door, and there he is—standing on your doorstep with his signature boxy grin and gently tousled raven hair. Taehyung's dressed in a tailored blazer and matching slacks over a crisp white t-shirt, and you find yourself at a complete loss for words as if you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be around him.

Maybe it’s something in the air, but he appears equally stunned, looking you up and down with wide eyes. His gaze soon softens into admiration as he takes in your entire appearance. “Wow,” he chokes, clearly impressed. “You look amazing.”

You feel a rush of warmth at his compliment and muster all your strength to keep from looking away flustered. “Thank you,” your voice wavers slightly. “You look pretty great yourself.”

Tongue in cheek, he replies with a playful smirk, “I was hoping you’d say that,” which prompts you to lightly punch him in the arm.

“Don't be arrogant.”

He chuckles, rubbing his arm with a grin. “Shall we head out?”

You nod and step outside, locking the door behind you.

The drive to the restaurant is a brief one, and you're immediately struck by the charm of its exterior when you arrive—stone walls, covered with vines of ivy and warm glowing lanterns. Inside is even more beautiful, with wooden shelves lined with old books and bottles of fine wine wrapping around the room. You're starting to understand why Taehyung was so insistent on bringing you here; the place perfectly reflects his taste and, unexpectedly, yours as well.

One of the hosts leads you to a deep mahogany table after confirming your reservation. The closer you get to it, the more you notice the crisp white linens and small tealight candles that sit on top, setting a romantic scene. If you had to describe the feeling, it would be as though you’ve been transported straight to a quaint corner of France.

"So, what do you think?” Seated across from you, Taehyung looks at you with bated breath. His fingers fidget with the edge of the table, nervously anticipating your verdict.

“Honestly? It’s so charming,” you reply, glancing around in awe. “I didn’t even realize we had a place like this around.”

At this, his demeanor relaxes, and a pleased smile spreads across his face. “It’s a bit hidden, but once I found it, it quickly became one of my favorite spots.” He pauses, then adds, “This is actually the same restaurant I wanted to take you to months ago, before my accident.”

“What? You’re serious?” you blink in shock as the realization slowly sinks in. You take another look around the restaurant—the rows of books, the bottles of wine, the elegant dining atmosphere—and suddenly, it all makes sense. How did you miss it before? “I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner,” you say softly, regretful of having turned down his offer before.

“It’s okay,” Taehyung's quick to reassure you, reaching out to lightly touch your hand. “What matters is that we’re here now. And honestly, I’m just happy to finally share it with you.” He gives you a warm smile, and immediately, you feel a small lump form in the back of your throat.

“Thank you for bringing us here tonight,” you say, “It’s wonderful, and I’m really glad we could make it up.”

“Of course,” he replies, “I thought it was a place we’d both enjoy.”

Everything about his responses seems to carry a heightened level of endearment and attentiveness, as if there’s more hidden beneath them.

Perhaps selfishly, you also sense there’s something uniquely special about this night—something you believe only exists between the two of you. So, when Taehyung retracts his hand, you feel a fleeting instinct to reach out and grasp it again, but you stop yourself short.

What are you thinking? This isn’t a date.

Needing a distraction, you grab the menu and start scanning the options.

Taehyung sees the way your gaze drifts and tilts his head, a concerned expression on his face. “Everything alright?” he asks gently.

You nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual. “I'm just getting pretty hungry with all the food I smell.”

He chuckles, "Same here," then picks up a menu of his own.

The two of you sit in silence for the next few minutes, fixated on the food and wine list. You find yourself stealing glances at him from time to time, and unbeknownst to you, he does the same.

After the waiter takes your orders, Taehyung leans forward, resting his chin on his palm. “How’s everything at work been? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Your face lights up at this. “Highs and lows," you reply, voice brightening, "but we got some exciting news today. I met with a potential investor earlier this week, and they’ve agreed to partner with the company. It’s a big win for us!”

Sharing your enthusiasm, Taehyung raises his wine glass, implicating you to follow suit. “This calls for a toast,” he says. “I know it must have meant long nights for you, but I’m so glad they recognized the value of you and your work. Seriously, __, you should be incredibly proud of this!"

You clink your glass with his, a light chuckle escaping you. There's something uniquely satisfying about sharing even the smallest things with him.

The conversation flows more comfortably from there, with Taehyung eagerly asking about the details of your new partnership. You reciprocate by asking about his current work projects, and soon, you both get lost in discussion, naturally causing your conversation to grow increasingly spontaneous. By the time your food arrives, the two of you must have easily covered fifty topics.

With the evening gradually becoming one of the most enjoyable you’ve had, the initial butterflies you felt at the start almost fade away... almost. That is, until you near the end of the meal and Taehyung looks at you with a seriousness in his eyes.

“I’m really glad we could do this tonight," he says, "We’ve both been so caught up with work lately that we haven’t had much time to spend together… I’ve missed it."

"Missed..." The simple six-letter word echoes in the back of your mind in a hushed murmur. It feels nice knowing you aren’t the only one affected by the recent distance.

“Me too,” you reply, more breathy than intended. Before you can fully process your words, you find yourself adding, “I’ve missed you a lot myself.”

A flush of embarrassment twists in your stomach the moment the words leave your mouth. You shouldn’t have said it like that—it almost sounded like… pining? God, you can’t even blame it on the alcohol at this point; you barely had one full glass of wine. Contrary to what you'd expect, Taehyung looks at you with a hint of shyness.

“You know,” he begins, briefly eyeing your dress, “you really do look great tonight. I’ve been a bit worried these past couple of weeks, seeing how much you work and how little sleep you get. But now… I'm relieved to see you looking so well.”

You blush. If only he saw you before tonight—greasy hair, bloodshot eyes, and oversized sweats on, you think. Evidently, tonight was an exception.

"I guess I've been worried about you too if I’m being honest,” you admit, shifting slightly in your seat. "The last time we saw each other was at your family reunion. It feels like it was ages ago for some odd reason."

“I know what you mean,” he says softly, gaze lingering on yours a moment longer than usual. “It’s strange going so long without seeing each other. It feels…unnatural.”

All at once, you pause, unsure if you heard right. Did Taehyung really say "unnatural"? It’s exactly how you’ve felt about the distance this entire time, but you hadn’t expected him to feel the same. Your mind struggles to process the sheer coincidence and its possible implications—was there something more to your relationship than you had realized?

While you try to make sense of it all, Taehyung’s raspy voice pulls you back to the present. “Well, uh, we should probably head out,” he suggests lightly, breaking the silence. You nod in agreement, though it does little to deter you from your thoughts.

You find yourself fidgeting with the hem of your dress the entire drive back, occasionally glancing at Taehyung in silence. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, eyes focused on the road, yet you could’ve sworn his mouth parted at one point as if he was about to say something. But then, he held back. You wonder what he might’ve wanted to say, but you’re no better—hesitant to breathe a word yourself.

Why are neither of you speaking all of a sudden? It feels tense and unfamiliar.

In what feels like a blink of an eye, you're standing at your front door again, Taehyung close beside you. The space between you feels smaller this time, with unspoken words still lingering, but it’s clear that despite having your keys in hand, neither of you are ready to part ways just yet.

“__?” He speaks first, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?” You respond, turning to face him fully.

Taehyung takes a deep breath when you do, his usual warmth replaced by a heavy, unreadable expression. “There- there's something that’s been on my mind,” he begins, voice trembling slightly. “I've been going back and forth tonight on whether or not to tell you."

“Okay, what is it?” you ask, pulse quickening.

“It’s about us..." He hesitates, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly before continuing. "Earlier tonight, when I said I've missed being able to see you, I wasn’t lying. If anything, it was likely an understatement because, no matter how busy I was, I kept thinking about you—our time at my parents' place, and how you always came to visit me when I was in the hospital."

He pauses, his fist clenching nervously.

"I’ve realized since then that maybe the reason why is because somehow…you've always been more than a friend to me,” he confesses softly.

Searching your face for a reaction, Taehyung mistakes your blank expression for discomfort. Little does he know, however, that your stillness is merely due to shock, as every nerve in your body threatens to awaken. It feels surreal, you think. Sure, you had a small inkling that tonight felt different and Taehyung was sweeter than usual, but eighty percent of you chalked it up as nothing more than overthinking or projection.

Now, you realize how short-sighted you’ve been, convincing yourself that you could only ever be friends and denying the rest when it's been quite the opposite.

“I’m sorry," he adds sheepishly. "It must be a lot to take in. I don’t want to lose you or our friendship, but with my feelings growing, I think I’ll always want more. I thought it would be better for you to know.”

You see the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks, and though he patiently waits for your response, you’re unsure where to start. It’s not that you question Taehyung’s genuineness or intentions, or that you don’t reciprocate his feelings—you haven’t shared such a deep connection with someone in a long time, if ever.

Rather, it’s the years of a mostly apathetic marriage that leave you feeling wary.

What would a relationship with Taehyung be like?

Would you truly love each other?

For how long?

What startles you most is the possibility that if you and Taehyung really do this and it doesn’t work out, you’ll be left even more devastated than before.

When you finally speak, your voice wavers slightly. “To tell you the truth, a big part of me is relieved that you told me all of this,” you admit slowly, your hands clammy. “I thought I sensed a shift between us at your parents' and again this evening. But I also thought I was reading too much into things, convinced it was just us getting closer as friends do."

"I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was wrong because I've been wanting more with you too," you continue. "It's like the further away we are, the worse I seem to feel, and I can't help but wonder what it would look like if we were more than friends. The thought scares me as much as it excites me, though…for reasons I'm sure you already know."

You're uneasy about how he'll react until, all at once, his eyes fill with warmth and his hands gently reach for yours, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the backs.

“Do you remember when we were at the beach and you asked who’d risk it for you?” Taehyung asks. You nod, recalling the exact moment. “You also asked if I loved you, and I agreed to both that day. I didn’t realize how much those words would come full circle, but I meant it then, and I mean it now. I will love you, __, in the way you've always meant to be. I'm pretty sure I'm at least halfway in love with you already, and not just because we're friends."

Wordless, you stand facing each other, your hands still held in his, eyes steady in the brisk night air. His gaze then drifts from your eyes to your lips and back again. The movement is subtle, but in that brief moment, you let your eyes fall to his lips as well.

Taehyung’s waiting for your answer, but you can’t stop thinking of what would happen if you just…

Adrenaline takes over from there, and before you fully process it, you’re leaning in to close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his. The sudden touch catches Taehyung off guard, but he quickly responds with gentle, tender kisses. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he deepens the embrace, one hand finding its way to your face while the other rests on your back, pulling you closer.

Sooner than you realize, he begins deepening the kiss as well, eliciting small, breathy moans. At this point, you can feel the tent forming in his trousers, but he makes no move to grind into you yet. Rather, the hands that grip around you tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough that your body pushes further against his firmer chest. You suspect your back will meet the hard surface of your front door within the next three seconds, allowing your entire neighborhood a show, but before then, you're interrupted by a subtle stirring in the pit of your stomach.

"Wait, I'm sorry-" you suddenly break the kiss, a rush of nerves returning. It’s been a long time since you’ve shared such meaningful kisses with someone, and the intensity of it has you feeling overwhelmed. "I'm so sorry," you repeat.

When Taehyung sees you aren’t backing away but rather standing completely still, he settles his hands around your waist, gently drawing you further into a soft embrace. "You don't need to apologize," he assures. "I'm the one who took it further than I should've when I want this to be comfortable for both of us.”

You take a small breath, "You didn't do anything wrong, Tae, I'm just a little nervous due the newness of everything. I think I’d be best if we wait before going any further tonight….but I’m also not ready for you to leave yet. Is there any way you could maybe come in for a bit? To lounge?”

Taehyung nods, “I completely understand wanting to wait. The last thing I want to do is rush anything.” Concerned about possibly pressuring you, he adds, "Are you sure about me coming in though? It's getting late and I don't want to keep you up."

"Please," you murmur, "just for a little while, if you can.”

“Okay," he agrees, thumbs brushing lightly against your sides, "I can stay."

a/n: ajdfhg, TYSM for reading!! Love you all 🥰

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[mingis-orangejuice]

Love and Deepspace Boys with an MC that's good with children Part.3: Rafayel

Summary: Rafayel desperately calls you to help him take care of his little nephew. Rafayel can't stand him but how difficult can one little kid be?

a/n: this one is my fave out of all the fics I've written so far. I love drama queen Rafayel. I made him as dramatic as possible, he's literally jealous of a 5-year-old kid cuz you're giving him more attention. Yep that's my man and imma stick beside him

Genres/Warnings: just pure teeth rotting fluff

Word count: 1173

Other parts: 1, 2, 4

“So what do you say will you help me pretty please?” Rafayel said from the other side of the call. He had called you to ask if you’d help him with his little nephew. He was stuck taking care of him since his cousin and her husband went off on another spontaneous trip. 

“Fine, as long as you pay double, bodyguards don’t babysit for free.” you joked

“Yeah sure double, I’ll even pay triple if you want just get here quickly!” you heard a crash in the background of the call and Rafayel screaming then he hung up.

You were only joking about wanting payment you didn't really think he would agree to it, but that crash had you concerned. Why was he so desperate for your help? How bad can one little kid be?

At Rafayel’s house, you let yourself in with the spare key. You hear your boyfriend yelling, another small voice laughing and the sound of something breaking. You follow the sound to the living room. The whole room was trashed. Mess everywhere, canvases and brushes on the floor, and paint everywhere even on the ceiling. Did a tornado pass through his living room? You see Rafayel chasing a young boy around the room as he causes more trouble “Rafayel what’s going on?”

“Oh thank goodness you’re here” He stops chasing the boy and runs up to you to greet you with a hug “He’s terrible, he’s destroyed everything in my studio I don't know what to do he just won't stop” Rafayel looked like he was almost about to cry.

“Who are you?” the boy stops in front of you “Are you Uncle Rafi’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I am” You bend down and put out your hand to shake his. “It’s nice to meet you, sweetie, what’s your name?” 

The little boy looks up at you with a big smile, completely enamoured by you “I’m Nate. Are you really Uncle Rafi’s girlfriend you’re way too pretty for him” he looks at Rafayel and sticks his tongue out.

“Hey I'll have you know that she is my girlfriend and she loves me, so there!” Rafayel sticks his tongue out at Nate too.

“Stop it you two.” you flick Rafayel’s forehead “You’re the adult in the situation you shouldn’t let him take advantage of you” you scold him as Nate laughs under his breath

“He started it, plus he doesn’t listen, he’s just a bad kid, we should bring him to an orphanage and leave him there,” he says pointing at Nate while hiding behind you.

You sigh and turn to look at Nate. “Nate, sweetie did you mess with your uncle’s art?” he nodded shyly. “That's not very nice now, is it” This time he nodded no. “you know you’re not supposed to do that right?”

“But Uncle Rafi was being so boring, I wanted to play tag but he just wanted to paint. He said he needed silence for his work so he left me in here alone.”

You turn and look at Rafayel. “Is that true?” He also just nods, looking like he was being scolded by his own mother. “Rafayel you can’t just leave him alone with nothing to do, what did you think would happen, he’d just sit there for hours doing nothing? No wonder he did all this, he was bored. You could have at least given him something to do.”

“I don’t know what kids like to do, that's why I called you. You’re so smart and would know exactly what to do to help your boyfriend in need riiight?” he attempted to flatter you so that you’d help him.

You sigh again. “Ok well, first we have to clean up this mess...” 

“I think you should make Nate clean it up himself, to make him learn his lesson” Rafayel glared at Nate.

You gave Rafayel the “mom death stare” and he quickly shut up “We are all going to help clean and then both of you are going to apologize, ok?” 

They both look at each other and then back at you. “Ok,” they both say. reluctantly

Later after the mess had been cleaned, you three sit on the couch exhausted. You hear a little tummy rumble.  You look to Nate “Oh are you hungry, maybe we should make something to eat” You head to the kitchen and Nate follows behind you holding your hand. Rafayel see this and jumps up from the couch trying to get in between you two. You push him away “Raf seriously, you’re jealous of a 5-year-old?” he looks a little embarrassed then quietly takes your other hand on the way to the kitchen. Nate looks over and sticks his tongue out at Rafayel again without you noticing. 

You guys cook up a nice simple meal for you all to enjoy but it wasn’t easy. Throughout the whole thing, they were both fighting for your attention. Rafayel was constantly giving you little kisses while you were trying to cook and Nate would keep pulling you away to get you to lift him up so he could get different ingredients or so he could sit on the counter. You found the little fight amusing so you let it go on since it was harmless.

You’re now sitting at the table to eat and the rivalry is still going on. “Come on just eat the food” it's healthy” Rafayel begs Nate “You need to eat something”

“No! it's yucky. I don’t wanna!” Nate whined and pushed his plate away from him.

“Nate sweetie, can you please eat all your food? If you do then you’ll become strong enough to be a hunter like me” You said with a smile. Nate instantly listens and shoves spoonfuls of food into his mouth. He’s finished in no time.

Rafayel looks at you in disbelief. How did you get this little brat to listen so easily? After Nate finished eating you got him ready for an afternoon nap. He gladly listened to everything you said while constantly glancing over at Rafayel to make sure he knew that he was only going to listen to you and not him. You put Nate in a bed in one of the guest rooms and waited for him to fall asleep. Right before you and Rafayel left the room Nate sleepyily said “ Uncle Rafi You should marry her I want her to be my new auntie.” 

You both look at each other and then back at him. “That’s the plan” Rafayel looks at you and winks. 

“Good,” Nate says right before he drifts off to sleep

You and Rafayel are now back on the couch, he holds your hand and looks into your eyes. “Hey thanks for today, you were a really big help I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you” 

“You don’t have to pay me, at least not with money.” You kiss him and give him a sly grin 

“Careful if you keep that up we’ll end up making another Nate” he laughed and kissed you.

[entertainmentgirl80]

You My Storm Forever (Tyler Owens X Female Reader) 🤠⛈️🩵

Warnings: Weather phobia, little PSTD, some Angst, Some FLUFF at the End.

"Hey honey, I'ma be back, going with the crew again." Tyler has his keys & his hat on.

"Okay babe, please be careful, I love you." You say to him while you clean up the kitchen.

"Love you back." He kisses you on the cheek and heads straight to the door.

So, while your husband is out chasing tornadoes with his crew as usual, you always can't help that anxiety you felt in your stomach that your husband can gets hurt in a tornado especially this time of the year in Oklahoma, however, lucky for y'all, you two live in Atlanta since three years now after you & Tyler gotten married. But it's still didn't change the fact that he still got that wild card personality in him, regardless of who he is because of what he loves to do.

*rings, rings, rings* Your phone is ringing, and you answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hey Sierra, this is Lily, I'm calling you to form you that Tyler is injured from chasing today, and he is in the hospital right now, if you okay to see him."

"Okay, thanks, Lily. I'm otw now." You hung up and grab your keys, and head out to the hospital with no hesitation.

Afterward, you got out of the car after you arrived there. Feelings are overwhelmed that you don't know that he makes it out: alive or dead.

"Hi, I'm looking for Tyler Owens, I'm his wife." You said to the lady in the front desk with lace of concern.

"Hi, Mrs. Owens, your husband has been waiting for you, and he is in room 101." She said to you with a smile.

"Okay, thank you so much."

"You're welcome." She nodded toward you.

*Knock, knock, knock*

"Come on in." Tyler watching TV while on his hospital bed.

As soon you come in, Tyler turns around, and his face changes to a frown to a big, wicked smile because you know he is happy to see his love, especially if you made his day around.

"T!!" You walk towards him

"Baby" He cooed

"What the hell you were thinking about? I'm was so worried that you gonna hurt, especially doing storm chasing an-." Tyler, stop her from talking.

"Hey, hey, hey, shhh, it's alright, look, I'm sorry, we saw a EF2, it's was coming towards me & the crew and all a sudden we got hit by something from the tornado and the truck filp over, and we got out of there quick." He explained.

You are sitting down and processing that your husband is explaining what happened. However, all you know is that you are grateful that your husband is still here and blessed to be alive.

"Don't do me like that again, T, or I will divorce your ass, please." Your voice was stern but soft.

"Aye, aye Mrs. Owens, I love you." He tips off his imaginary hat while having a cheshire cat grin on his features that you can't help but smile at him.

"I love you too, Mr. Tornado Wrangler." You rolled your eyes, but you can't help that you love him, and he gives you a kiss on the lips.

A/N: This is my second fanfiction writing of the Tornado Wrangler, so I'm hope y'all like it. And p.s. also, forgot that I wanna to give credit to the person who made the dividers is @a-reader-and-a-writer 🤠🌪💋😌

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hiii! How bout Damian Priest x fem!reader where Damian comes home from a long trip (to France or something like that) and reader and their kid are just hanging and when the kid sees Damian they yell "Papi" and that's like their first words

(I know this is a long request sorrryyyyy :D)

little traitor

being at home with a toddler wasn’t easy, especially when damian was travelling so much. he was going to take a few weeks after clash at the castle and you couldn’t wait for that moment to come but in the meantime you were left alone with your little tornado who couldn’t stay still for a minute.

ella, your daughter, was damian’s copy. she was as energetic as he was. always running around the house, screaming and playing and those months of quite and silence were already forgotten.

but you wouldn’t change anything. your life was perfect as it was.

damian was currently on his way back from backlash and you couldn’t wait to spend a few days with your husband before he had to travel again.

“you know who’s coming home?” you said while rocking your daughter “papi’s coming home very soon!” you said smiling at her “yes, he’s coming home very soon and he will stay with us for a few weeks, aren’t you happy?”

of course, she couldn’t understand all of the words but the sweet voice you used made her laugh.

not even thirty minutes later, damian walked into the house leaving all of his suitcases in the front corridor.

“papi is here!” you picked up ella and went to the front door but damian was faster and stopped you both in the leaving room.

“where are my princesses?” he said with a big smile.

coming home to a family of his own was all he ever wanted. he loved you and he was grateful for the life you had given him.

“i missed you so much…” you said while damian gently kissed your lips.

“i missed you too” he smiled at you “and i missed you too ella! in these past days you got so big! i can’t believe she’s growing so fast” damian said laughing.

you gently laid ella in his arms as she wanted to be held by her daddy.

“i missed you so much princesa” he softly smiled at her.

“pa…pa…papa”

“did she?” you both looked at her in disbelief.

“papa” she happily repeated.

damian was about to have a heart attack. he couldn’t believe her first word was papa. you couldn’t neither.

“you little traitor” you softly spoke at her, making her giggle “i’m the one who gave birth to you and not only you are damian’s copy and paste but your first word was papa instead of mama!” she couldn’t understand a single word but the funny tone you used made he laugh.

damian was still shocked.

“damian are you okay?”

“she said papa…”

“yes she did…”

“i can’t believe it” her said while a tear ran down his face. your daughter still laughing in his arms.

“she said papa and not mama, i’m trying not to be offended” you laughed while damian was still in a state of shock.

“i’m about to cry” damian said. you tried your best to contain your laugh but it was hard. you never saw damian acting like that and it was completely new to you “she said papa”

“yeah she did” you laughed.

“of course your first word was going to be papa” he started talking to ella, acting like you weren’t even in the same room as he was “you’re my best friend ella, of course you would say papa first…i’m going to spoil you rotten” he said kissing her little cheeks, making her giggle.

“okay…that’s definitely not how i imagined tonight would have been…” you laughed again.

“what did you imagine?” damian asked, wiping his tears away.

“i imagine you putting ella to sleep and then, after a hot shower, putting me to sleep…but i guess i have to work on that on my own” you teased him.

“not a chance…just let me be happy for a minute please…” he smiled.

“fine fine, enjoy your cute moment together…” you laughed.

you loved watching them together, creating a bond together. deep down you knew that with damian being away so often, ella would have cherished the moments with her daddy a little more and you were okay with that. you loved the little relationship they were creating and you couldn’t wait to see them growing up together.

[look-at-the-soul]

Endless love

(Modern) Tommy Shelby x reader

✨ I wrote this for @justrainandcoffee Alfieversary! My dearest Flor who knew fanfiction and Peaky Blinders would cross our paths! Thank you for always being so kind and generous-and talented!-, becoming mutuals here for a short time and somehow it feels as if we knew each other in person. Cheers to many, many more Alfieversaries!

Summary: Y/N is “forced” to leave her husband and baby for the weekend, so join Tommy to sort parenthood by himself for a couple of days. How will he deal with everything? Including a fussy baby.

Word count: 2.5K

A/N: we know I try to make moodboards right? 🤭

“Okay, erm so there’s milk storage enough.” Y/N mumbled, taking one more look around the bedroom. “Emma’s nappies are in the first drawer, keep her bunny close to-“

“Her face, I know.” Tommy produced a small chuckle, trying hard not to roll his eyes as he had already heard his wife’s instructions for almost a week. “Love, just leave that there, take a deep breath and have a margarita for me, we’ll be fine.”

Looking down at his six-month old he found her big beautiful eyes staring at him.

Y/N blinked nervously, this was the first trip away from Emma, it’s was a natural thing to be nervous.

“I can’t drink a margarita, remember?” She pointed at her breasts for a clearer message. Although she really wanted one.

This was actually her first real going out in a long time, somehow her life had been turned upside down full of baby trips to the doctor’s appointments, quick trips to get the groceries, restless nights of feedings. Thats why when Tommy insisted she should make the trip with Rose and the girls, she thought it would be a good idea to have a little time to herself.

But suddenly, her phone started ringing and loads of messages arrived simultaneously.

“Are you su-“

Tommy cut his wife’s words. “Yes, now go before Rose comes up to take you.”

Y/N gave Tommy a worried look, she couldn’t help it.

“Say goodbye to mama,” he waved Emma’s little hand. “Buh-bye mam!” He imitated a childish voice.

Y/N felt her heart clenching inside her chest when she kissed her daughter’s chubby cheeks.

“If you need anything just call and I’ll be back.” She rushed to say before kissing Tommy’s lips. Stepping out of their home, she blew them a kiss.

Tommy finally felt confident enough to release the air he had been holding. He was beyond nervous for not having his wife around whilst taking care of their baby, he was actually panicking to do anything wrong.

As Tommy closed the door he saw Emma’s lip quiver and a second later, she let out a big cry.

“Oh no, no darling don’t cry.” Tommy tried to soothe her. Small legs kicking with such force that made him think of a small tornado. “It’s alright, mama will be back in a couple of days…” he mumbled tried to get his daughter to settle.

His phone started buzzing in his pocket, he tried to rock Emma, but her cries became louder. Pressing the green button so fast that he didn’t look at the name on the screen.

“‘Lo?”

“Is Emma alright? I heard her crying.”

Tommy gasped. “Yes, of course, it’s the television… there’s a baby crying.” He lied.

He noticed Y/N’s hesitation so he rushed to assure her everything was fine and encouraged her to have a great time with her friends. Then, Tommy searched the channel with calm music Y/N used to rock Emma to sleep, in an attempt to settle his baby.

“How can a little thing like you cry so loud?” Tommy sighed defeated. He was one step from giving up. “I don’t know how your mama does it.”

He had tried everything, absolutely everything. And nothing seemed to work.

Was his baby sick? Hurting?

“What is it baby girl?” He wiped away the tears from her eyes, long lashes wet, chubby cheeks red from the intensity of her cries.

A sudden flashback appeared on his mind and with long strides, he walked into their bedroom hoping to find Emma’s bunny in its place. It had been a birth gift by Rose, and his daughter didn’t seem to like anything else.

“Look… here’s your bunny.” He tried tickling her cheeks. “And let’s take Mummy’s blanket alright?”

Tommy felt on the brick of desperation, was he really a useless father? One who couldn’t make his daughter stop crying?

His heart was aching.

Tommy wondered how would they survive for the entire weekend without Y/N. He started seriously doubting his parental skills in that moment.

Wrapping his baby in Y/N’s blanket seemed to bring some comfort for his baby. Groaning he covered his face with one of the thin cloths they used to go outside, it was small piece that only covered his features partially but then he heard a small giggle and a raspberry from Emma.

Startled, he removed the sheet from his face and looked down at what was making her giggle.

“You liked your silly daddy?” He asked mimicking a ridiculous voice.

He tried the trick once more.

And to his surprise, Emma giggled again, there was a bit of droll on her chin, big blue eyes sparkling just for him.

“You like Mr. Napkin?!” He asked in disbelief. “Yes you do!”

Getting up, he got a larger napkin from the kitchen and after covering his face again, but he added his glasses.

“Mr. Napkin needs help to see.” He repeated what it seemed like the best acting performance ever. “Oh! I see a beautiful happy little girl.” He turned to face his baby laying in one of his arms.

Emma laughed uncontrollably and kicked her legs happily.

“You know what? Mr. Napkin needs a smoke.” He announced, producing a cigarette from its case. But once he added it to his performance, he noticed a small pout. “Oh no, no… that’s a bad habit, don’t do it.”

Once he got his little girl to settle again, he sighed relieved when he saw the big yawn she offered.

“Mr. Napkin would like a nap too.”

But before he could close his eyes, his phone started ringing and the sound woke his daughter up.

“Shit. Alfie what do you want?”

“Just making sure you’re in one piece still… heard the Misus are having the time of their lives.” Alfie announced.

“I know you’re miserable when Rose is away, but I’m busy here mate.”

“That’s exactly why I was calling, to offer some child support.”

Tommy snorted. “Alfie the last thing I want is you taking care of my daughter.”

Alfie didn’t took that personally, he knew as a matter of fact that he had the opposite effect in Tommy’s daughter. “When will you finally admit your daughter likes me?”

“She likes pulling at you beard and your dog.”

“Look we both know you’re going to make the girls come back earlier from their trip and the least thing I need is having Rosie mad at me at your fault, so meet me and Cyril at the beach.”

“That sounds like an awful idea.”

“See ya.”

The actual plan worked like wonders, Emma was thrilled to spend time with Cyril, because being honest, he got all protective over Emma, and despite his size he acted like a cotton ball, bringing her sticks. But Tommy wasn’t going to admit that out loud.

Of course Alfie teased him endlessly for acting over protective towards the baby just because he made sure his daughter wouldn’t suffer damage from the sun. Or any kind of damage for that matter.

“What are cha gonna do when your little pumpkin starts messing around with boys and-“

Tommy gave him a death stare.

“Wha? You can’t keep her locked mate…” Alfie pointed out as the girl grabbed some sand in her small fist.

“That’s not going to happen.” Tommy answered with a clenched jaw.

Just the mere thought of it, made his insides twist.

And to Alfie, to have the chance to tease Tommy it was like the cherry on top, it was something he wasn’t going to let it pass.

By the time they went back to their apartment, Emma was sound asleep in the back seat.

After changing his baby girl into a pajama set, Tommy walked around the place to set the alarm and taking the remote, he turned off the lights.

To his surprise, he got a message from his wife.

Missing you both like crazy! xx

We missed you too, Emma was thrilled to take a little trip to the beach xx - he replied.

Almost immediately, his phone started ringing and the photo of his wife holding their baby appeared on the screen.

“I know I said I wasn’t going to disturb you, but…” her sweet voice made him smile.

“‘S alright, I was just getting ready to sleep.”

“But it’s still early.” Y/N pointed out turning around to look the hour.

“I am exhausted.” He dragged the words.

Turning the call into video, Y/N noticed the bags under his eyes. The dim light cascading over his cheekbones.

“Looks like someone’s having the time of her life.” He complimented.

“We had a massage and I ordered a virgin cocktail.”

Tommy shook his head. “No booze? What’s the fun in that?”

“Stop temping me.” Y/N pouted. “I’ll let you’ve some rest, tomorrow it’s going to be a long day.”

Tommy yawned and wished his wife a good night.

****

A babbling sound make him open his eyes asTommy tried to fix his blurred vision.

Groaning, he got up. “Morning, sunshine.” He kissed the top of her head as he pulled her against his chest and went back to bed.

Instinctively, Emma started nibbling his nipple.

“Oh sweetie, you won’t find anything there.” Tommy explained with a chuckle.

But Emma wasn’t in the mood and a round of loud cries started right away.

“I get it, the milk provider is moving right away, give me a sec.” He got up and carried his baby towards the kitchen, to prepare the bottle for her. A few minutes later, Emma was sucking happily.

“Such a drama queen eh?” He stared at her soft features. Wondering what life had in store for her. “What do you wanna do today? We can go to the park, or the pub bet your uncles would love to see you.” He proposed as his baby was focused on her milk. That way he could get some help because everyone in his family adored his daughter.

Despite his wealth, Y/N refused hiring a nanny. She was adamant to be in charge of everything related to their daughter. And being completely honest with himself, he was grateful for being able to spend quality time with his first born, Y/N deserved all the credit for that, she helped him feel comfortable by giving his daughter a warm bath and helping as much as he could, being a present father.

She had already threatened him to include a hairstyle masterclass so he could learn to do braids and pigtails.

After a quick bath for him and another one for his daughter. He felt proud of managing to put an asthetic outfit for Emma, he actually went safe with clear colors God forbid that one time he changed her into a set that didn’t match, Y/N scolded and teased him endlessly. As Tommy was looking in one of the drawers for a clean sheet so he could place his baby on the floor, he found a small box where Y/N kept a bunch of things she said that were useless but you might need some day. The thought made him chuckle, but a sharp movement opened the lid and its content fell to the floor.

That’s when he saw something that caught his attention.

A playful smile spread on his lips and he rushed to the living room to set everything.

It took him a while to carry on with his idea, but once he was finished, he stood there proudly to admire his creation, the smile on his daughter’s face told him he did a good job. Oh, the things he’d do for that little Miss Sunshine. She had him wrapped around her little finger.

Snapping a photo, he pressed a few buttons to send it to his wife.

“What is that?!” Y/N asked raising her voice, excitement was evident.

Tommy’s chest expanded proudly as he looked at his mini-me in awe. “She’s being giggling nonstop.”

“This is the best idea ever!” Y/N sounded surprised, so he was still able to be one step ahead.

“Cheapest trick to keep her busy.” Tommy added, sending the photo to the Shelby’s chat group.

“I can’t wait to go back home.” He knew being away wasn’t easy for her, specially because she was so attached to Emma.

“The day will fly by and you’ll be back before you know it.” He tried to cheer her up. His eyes darting back to his daughter, still amazed by the balloons.

“Look at you, I leave you for a couple of days and you win the award parent of the year.”

“That’s what you get for abandoning us.” He joked.

“Hey!” Tommy heard Rose’s voice in the background. “Only emergencies! Is Tommy missing an arm?” He heard some weird noise and then she spoke clearly. “I hope you’re taking good care of Emma.”

“Of course.” He wasn’t sure if he should be more scared of his wife or Rose.

“Good, then were stealing your wife for another day and we’re already planning the next trip.” She warned, and this time around, it was Y/N turn in the background saying that she didn’t want to be away from her daughter again.

“Have a fabulous day, I gotta change a stinky nappy.”

Ending the call, he decided to order some food, the last thing on his mind at the moment was to prepare something. At least he got a great deal by keeping his daughter busy with the balloons and that granted him a few minutes to stand outside in the balcony to smoke a cigarette while keeping an eye on his baby.

And the rest of his day went just like that between naps, babbling and the little sounds his daughter made. Later he’d pick a book to read to her.

****

Sunday finally arrived and after driving for a couple of hours, the girls left her by the apartment lobby first, so she made the trip to her floor quietly and since she didn’t tell Tommy what time they were coming back, she took the chance to surprise him.

He didn’t know, but she had been watching him in the baby monitor app on her phone. As a matter of fact her heart felt full last night when she realized her baby wouldn’t settle and after a couple of minutes, she saw Tommy getting up from the bed and climbing the crib -big enough to fit him-, to sleep with his baby.

She knew he was the best father their daughter could have.

And another proof was that moment while he was feeding Emma and he started singing a Romani song and ever so gently he explained their baby he came from gypsies and she too, had gypsy blood running in her veins. Y/N wanted to bottle the two of them along with those moments that made her confirm her deep love for that man.

But Y/N was the surprised one when she stepped into her apartment and found Tommy sleeping on the couch with Emma lying on his chest fast asleep, his arm wrapped around her back protectively. Her small hand closed in a tight fist over her bunny’s ear.

The image was instantly tattooed in her heart as a lifetime memory.

And she knew, her heart was full and that this was an endless love.

Master list

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, remember your feedback is always the way to a writer’s heart ♥️✨

Oh! I almost forgot.. Mr Napkin inspiration 👇🏻👇🏻

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[builtaworldwithyourlove]

Free Falling

Chapter Four

3.3k+ / (eventual) husband!joel x f!reader /minors dni

‘I felt very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel’

Summary: you take the leap to leave your stagnant relationship, and end up falling into the arms of a man who will give you the life you always dreamed of. 

Content: age gap (reader is mid-late 20s, Joel is late 30s-mid 40s), angst,smut, fluff, oc(reader’s ex-boyfriend and friends/family), mention of reader grieving loss of her dad, swearing, smoking, alcohol consumption, lovely lovely baby boy Joel, reader is a sweetheart, lil time hop, planning Joel’s birthday bash

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Summer was over and the nights were getting longer and colder. Joel was still the man of your dreams, and you were still as infatuated with eachother three months later, as you were at the start. Things were moving slowly, and he hadn’t popped the big girlfriend question yet, but you had both agreed it was just about you two.

Every Sunday you tried to do something together, whether it was a date or a trip to Target and TJ Maxx. Your work schedule was crazy and Joel was held up with a huge work project, but you didn’t mind because you got eachother back at the end of each day. It was a blessing.

Today was Tuesday and you were in the office twiddling your thumbs, planning Joel’s birthday this weekend. The girls group chat was buzzing as your friends helped you with ideas.

The idea which had been stuck in your mind was giving Joel a spare key, but was this okay if you weren’t even his girlfriend yet? You were had fallen for him, and he never fails to make you feel special.

‘Love has no timeline’ your mom always reminded you. The girls agreed there was no issue. You were just scared, but that’s okay. Joel had been there to catch you everytime.

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The day went quickly, and you headed to Target after work for a treat yourself spree. Joel texted asking if you were free tonight, which was unlike him as he never asked you, he just told you what the plans were. You were suspicious but told him to come over and you’d do dinner for you both and you could catch up on the junk TV you found yourselves hooked on.

You got home, showered and changed into a matching loungewear set and greeted Joel at the door. You were in your pink fluffy robe, and Leo was sat in the pocket.

‘Damn kitten,’ Joel rolled his eyes. ‘He’ll stretch it out then you’ll be moaning about your droopy dressing gown.’

‘Well who ruffled your feathers, asshole?’ You turned round and walked through, letting Joel make his own way in the house.

You made yourself a dirty martini, and saved the olives for Joel,  as he always stole them from you.

He tutted and shook his head. ‘I’m sorry baby, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.’

‘Tell me. A problem shared is a problem halved’ you leaned over the counter and rested your chin in your hands.

‘Let’s talk after dinner. I’m starving.’ Joel kissed you and patted your hip as he got up and grabbed the dinner plates. 

You sat at the table in the chairs opposite eachother. Your leg was tucked up under you, with the other resting on Joel’s leg. He squeezed your foot while you unpacked your day. With every word you spoke, his bad mood started to alleviate and the tension dissipated.

‘You go sit down baby, I’ll do the kitchen then I’ll be in’ Joel stood up and kissed your forehead.  You wrapped your arms round his neck and pulled him in for a proper kiss.

‘I love you’ Joel whispered. 

You looked up at him speechless.

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Already, you were half asleep on the sofa, and Joel slotted underneath you so your head was laying on his lap, and he was lounging backwards with his legs up on the coffee table. 

You turned onto your back, and your eyes locked. His back almost locked trying to reach down to kiss you, but he did it. He’d do anything to kiss you.

‘I love you too, you know?’ Your cheeks heated up and your voice cracked. Shit, this was happening and it felt terrifying.

‘Be my girlfriend, please? I want you to be mine for the rest of our time on Earth. Girlfriend just doesn’t cover it.’

You welled up, and Joel’s eyes shimmered with a mix of fear, hope and adoration.

‘Now why would you do that when you know I’m due on.’ You were now a sobbing wreck, trying to find the words to tell Joel yes.

‘I had to fit it in before my birthday, couldn’t risk not getting that extra birthday present from you.’ Joel dug his fingers into your ribs, unable to be serious for more than five seconds.

‘You and me for as long as we live. I’d love to be your girlfriend and everything else that comes with it.’ He tenderly ran the side of his thumb down your temple and behind your ear, before holding your cheek in his palm. You nudged into it and sat up to kiss him.

‘Thank you for showing me how life should be’ you whispered.

‘Thank you for being my reason for living.’ Joel held you tightly. So tightly you thought you might break, or even worse, so tightly you thought you’d snap back into reality. But this  was real. Joel was the one for you.

‘Will you stay at mine tonight?’ Joel asked.

‘Can you not stay here? I’m working from here tomorrow, would make things easier’ you batted your eyelashes and Joel sighed.

He got up and went to leave to go home and get his stuff. ‘Don’t expect me to bring you back a sweet treat’ he shouted halfway out the door.

You sighed contentedly and sprawled out on the sofa, scrolling through to find a film to watch.

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He got back to you  no longer than half an hour later, of course with some chocolate for you, and before you knew it, you were both snoring on the sofa, intertwined and sweating under the covers of a fleece throw.

Joel insisted on watching Scarface, and you insisted his little friend did not need to be greeted, no matter how many times he repeated the quote. You couldn’t deny his impression was spot on. Why was this man so damn good at everything?

It was only half eight in the evening, and Leo woke you up crying for his dinner. Neither of you were morning people so it took a good thirty seconds of staring at eachother confused before realising what planet you were on. Your limbs dragged behind you as you uncoiled yourself and got Leo fed and settled for bed.

The temperature had started to drop at night, but the best thing about fall was having an ice cold bedroom after leaving the windows open all day. You crept up the stairs, in case Joel had fallen asleep in typical fashion. Instead you were met by Joel in your bed, propped up and topless, reading through one of your self love books. 

His glasses sat on the tip of his nose, and his hair fell scruffily across his forehead. The snap of your body lotion bottle shook him from his daze, and he grinned his charming schoolboy grin at you, and tapped the empty space next to him.

With your knees practically buckling beneath you, you awkwardly walked/skipped/jogged to join Joel in bed. Facing eachother on your sides, you ran a finger down his face and traced his jawline, towards the middle of his chin and catching his bottom lip. His mouth parted and his breath hitched as you kissed him. The world fell silent, the moon watched from above and Joel held you tight. 

He rolled onto his back and you rested your head on his chest, ready for the sweetest sleep of your life so far.

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Work didn’t officially start until 9am, so you set your alarm for 8am, for a well deserved mid week lay in.

You were pleasantly surprised to find Joel still in bed next to you.

‘You can thank my little friend’ Joel smirked, ‘You have me to deal with all day.’

‘That means a day of absolutely no work getting done’ you kissed his cheek, and went to roll out of bed. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him. 

‘I don’t want you to leave, it feels cold without you.’

‘You better join me in the shower then’ you whispered, before dragging him out of bed with you for the best way you knew to start his day.

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With an extra spring in his step, Joel hopped up the stairs to check how your day was going.

‘It’s 9:20am baby, what could have gone wrong in 20 minutes?’ You swivelled around on your chair, fluffy pink pen in hand. 

Fortunately, a couple of spare rooms in your house meant you got a seperate closet space and office space, although you anticipated something having to give with Joel spending more time at yours. Joel traced his fingers across polaroids hung like bunting across your wall, smiling to himself seeing you in wild places with your friends. He laughed at your versatility which ranged from a polaroid of you laid in the back of a cab with bottle of wine in hand and a feeble attempt at a peace sign and pout, to you in a gorgeous floor length dress with a champagne glass and your best friends either side.

He pulled up one of your decorative stools, which you assured him were not to bear human weight, and span you round in the chair, stopping you in front of him with a kiss on the tip of your nose.

‘What could’ve gone wrong in 20 minutes?’ He sits back, straddling the stool, and makes a pensive face before pacing around your office again.

You rolled your eyes, the same ones that you just couldn’t take off him.

‘Bath and body works announce the discontinuation of your favourite vanilla something candle’ he points at you.

‘Don’t even tempt fate with that’ you retort, ‘now Mr Miller, are you going to change my life, or are you going to get out my office and let me finish some work?’

‘Baby, your life changed the minute we met’ Joel stood by your window, silhouette skewed by the bright sunlight coming in behind him. He turned to face you and smiled.

‘Want me to do your fall lights on the summerhouse? Get it ready for Saturday. What do you say? Finish work, fall decoration shopping then a lazy night?’

‘You know me better than I know my self’ you stood up on tiptoes, wrapping your arms round his neck, and rubbing his ears between your thumb and pointer finger whilst rubbing your nose against his.

‘Well stop being lazy, and I’ll see you at 12pm for lunch’ Joel pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and stepped backwards out of your office, closing the door softly behind you.

You smiled and found yourself counting down the seconds before you could see Joel again.

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The sound of Kings of Leon showed you the way and found Joel sat in the summer house with Leo, waving a rainbow coloured toy in circles.

‘Lunchtime, Mr Miller,’ you cooed.

He parted his legs, and you perched on his thigh, balancing a tray of food in your hand as you kissed him tenderly. He supported your back as you got up to sit next to him for lunch. 

‘Much work left to do baby?’ 

‘No, pretty quiet day. Just waiting for the transitional stuff to come through for the new job’ 

‘New job? Do tell?’ He scooped Leo up in his arms and they both leaned in.

You giggled and told him all about the promotion, and your new team you were managing and the opportunities this would give you.

‘I’m so proud of you baby’ You had never heard a tone so soft from a man so tough, as he shook his head almost in disbelief.

‘I’m doing it for us,’ you whispered back, as Joel held your chin in the palm of his hand.

‘Well, your taste in fairy lights is exceptional’ He flicked the switch and stood with his hands on his hips, above his worn out belt.

‘I love them, baby! I look forward to getting the pumpkins out later.’

‘I have to say I’m looking forward to seeing them too’ Joel quipped, grabbing a handful of your hips and ass.

‘Yeah I’m definitely going to have to put out after everything you’ve done’ you joked with him, pretending to admit defeat. 

‘I’ll see you at 5pm’ he shouted, as you began to walk down the garden back to the office. You blew a kiss at him, resisting the urge to sprint to him and never let him go.

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The most spoilt kitten in the world slept on your lap all afternoon, whilst Joel kept your water bottle topped up and snack bowl filled in between his work calls.

5pm graced you with her presence, so you grabbed your coat and errand running purse, slipped into your Uggs and coated yourself in Amber Romance.

‘Got to go Tommy, see you this weekend bud. 8pm, her place. Don’t forget my presents’ Joel slipped his phone in his back pocket, and winked at you. His version of ‘How you doin’?’. 

‘You think you’re soooo slick’ you squinted sarcastically, whirling your key chain around your finger.

‘And you think you’re sooooo cool’ Joel put on his impression of your phone voice, and reminded you who was boss.

‘Okay I deserved that. Only letting you off because you’re the most handsome boyfriend ever.’

‘Agreed. Right, pumpkin spice time baby.’ Joel held open the front door, then strided to open your driver’s door whilst you locked up.

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Fall shopping was completed, and you were looking forward to getting home and stuffing your face with Joel’s casserole and lazing on the sofa for the evening.

‘I don’t know, I just guess pinecones and mushrooms are for September, pumpkins are for October and then it’s seeing how far you can go before putting the Christmas tree up in November’ you justified the 250 dollar spending spree. 

‘You are an enigma’ Joel was intrigued, and he figured he had a lot to learn about life with a girl in her 20s. 

Joel held your thigh the whole journey home, whilst your Fall Feelings playlist soothed your brains after a so far busy week.

‘I don’t know where and I don’t know when. But I know we’ll be lovers again. I’ll see you someday before the end, I don’t know where and I don’t know when. But oh darling my heart’s on fire’

You smiled softly to the lyrics of what was now Joel’s favourite song in the world, his thumb rubbing your hand and you holding his hand like it was your last chance.

‘I didn’t know I could feel something so deeply.  I’ve loved things, but I’ve never been in love until now’ Joel looked out the window, watching the fields roll by,

You raised his hand in yours to kiss it. 

Comfortable silence fell throughout the car, and you were sure you floated from the car to the house. Elated, loved and secure.

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The pair of you had finished decorating the house, and finally sat to have dinner. The air was filled with the scent of incense and cinnamon and vanilla candles, and the house had never felt more like a home.

‘Do you think Tommy can keep you busy Saturday until 8pm?’ You asked.

‘As long as you don’t throw me out silly early to put a few balloons up, then maybe we can come to an agreement’ he grabbed your knee under the table.

‘That’s one less gift you’re getting’ you flicked your hair off your shoulder.

Joel laughed and stroked your hand across the table. ‘I’m looking forward to it baby, just let me know what I can do to help.’

‘It’s your birthday silly, you let me do the running around. Any special requests?’

‘It is all down to you, princess. As long as you and the girls keep away from the tequila and it doesn’t turn into karaoke night.’ he ran his hand over his mouth and across his stubble. 

‘Boring, just for that I’m buying double tequila’ you walked past with the dinner plated in hand and flicked your heel up to playfully tap him.

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The rest of the week flew by, Joel was busy with a few projects and you were in the office for the last couple of days.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning, there was a chill in the air but the sun shone through, and the red and orange leaves glistened from the morning dew.

The decision was hard, but you forced yourself out of bed at 7am, unwillingly peeling away from Joel to get yourself ready.

You hopped in the shower, washed your hair and rinsed off the way too dark tan guide colour. 

The errand running outfit was your favourite baby pink tracksuit, the zip up hoodie oversized for an off the shoulder style and your hair pin-curled up with military precision.

Joel woke up and stumbled into your office to find you slumped over your desk, vigorously writing your to do lists, shopping lists and list of lists that need creating. 

‘You look like a prawn sitting like that.’ He leaned against the door frame, one elbow supporting him, and the other hand on his hip. 

Your throat went dry at the sight of him. Shaggy hair, V-Lines that would be unachievable even if sculpted by Michelangelo himself and a morning voice drizzled in honey. 

‘And you look good enough to eat, but you don’t hear me making a fuss.’ You turned to face him, and reclined back in your chair.

He started walking towards you, and you sat up, straightening your back and locking eyes with him. Joel took a deep breath, as you held his hips in your hands and kissed across the skin above the waistband of his shorts, and you gently scratched your red nails down his tense core. 

‘Come here baby’ you whispered, pulling his shorts down to his knees. He stepped closer to you, and began to wince as you dragged your tongue across the underside of his cock. Moans echoed throughout the room as you took Joel deeper and deeper to the back of your throat, occasionally whimpering when he thrusted too deep. All he could manage was the words ‘babe’ and ‘so good’ as he melted.  

You knew his weaknesses and all the tricks to make him feel as much pleasure as possible. His bare thighs were painted with goosebumps, as you slowed down the pace and kissed down his hips before devouring him again. He grunted and held your throat delicately as he climaxed. There was an obscene glimmer in your eyes as you stared at him whilst he ran his thumb from the corner of your mouth to the middle of your bottom lip and you sucked his thumb in one slow motion.

‘Where have you been all my life?’ He pulled his shorts up and fell to his knees in front of you. 

‘Missing you, baby’ you pulled his head in to your chest and kissed the top of his head, taking in the scent of shampoo in his curls.

He laid against you for a while, trying to regain his strength. ‘FUCK, Tommy will be here any minute’ he bolted back into your bedroom to get his stuff before jumping in the shower.

Following him into the bathroom, you admired him for a while whist brushing your teeth again, and gave him a kiss through the shower curtain. 

‘I love you baby, will leave you both some coffee in the pot, I’m going to get Jess. I’ll see you tonight.’

You bounded down the stairs, grabbed an energy drink and bottle of water and headed to prepare for Joel’s party.

3 New Messages- 

Jessie🕺🏻

Ready when you are angel muffin, drive safe. 

Mumma🥹🩷

Heading to Costco’s, send me a list of what u need xx

Rufus👨‍🌾

got ur dried flower arrangement bring it later, see u tonight sweet girl, we love u

You smiled to your phone, feeling grateful. The best of friends by your side, a gorgeous boyfriend and the most caring family ever. Life was beautiful.

Tucking Leo in bed, you kissed his little furry forehead, slid into your Uggs and headed off  to spend way too much money. 

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@iamsherlocked-1998

@sugakookieswithmilk

@galway-girlatwork

[ladylooch]

Since we're in the holidays and one day before Christmas. How would Christmas be around the aus ? Especially miles and kailey.

-👢

A/N: I had an idea for Kailey and Miles this morning! So I am going to focus on them for this, which I know you will not mind at all about 😁

Warnings: a smidge of sexual groping, grief, loss of a loved one

Miles and I wake up with our backs together on Christmas morning. Nothing is wrong, but my snuggle time in bed has moved away from my husband and instead to my pregnancy pillow. Miles wants to punt that thing into the Rocky Mountains, never to be seen again. But me being comfortable is more important to him. So important that he stopped being big spoon when I complained about him being a furnace at 2am this morning. So he rolled over and settled with pressing his back to mine.

I open my eyes to the soft kicks of the baby in my belly. I groan, rubbing a hand over the area to try and soothe him to stop. I was really hoping to sleep in later than 7:00am this morning. Miles Wood’s baby has other ideas. I cup the underside of my belly, then work my way slowly to drop onto my back. Miles stirs a bit as I roll to my other hip. I press my belly into his back, then reach around to run my finger nails up his bare abdomen. His large hand comes over mine while a heavy sigh moves his skin beneath our hands. 

“He up?” Miles asks me. I press a kiss to the deep ravine of his spine.

“Yeah.”

“Buddy, you’re killing me.” Miles groans, reaching around for my belly. He gives it a gentle jiggle. It tickles and makes me laugh, which in turn makes the baby kick harder.

Miles rolls over to face me. I kick my pregnancy pillow out of the way, opting to use his big leg to keep my knees from rubbing together. The pressure in my pelvis releases enough that I can lay comfortably while we cuddle. I can tell Miles loves this, getting to actually feel my body against his instead of having something in between us.

“Merry Christmas, Kails.” Miles murmurs. When his deep voice begins again, the baby’s kicks get more forceful. Miles leans down to kiss the top of my bump. “Merry Christmas Olympic gymnast!” Miles chuckles, feeling the vibrations of our son’s little feet on his mouth.

“He is moving like crazy right now. He loves the sound of your voice.” I tangle my fingers in Miles’ curls. He rests his face there for a few more moments, before sitting up to lay back, looking at me with those dreamy eyes. 

“How are you feeling today?”

“Huge.” I shake my head. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make breakfast for your parents like I promised.”

“That’s okay. I can do it.” He leans down, kissing her lips. “You just sit on the couch and relax.”

“With your baby in me? I’ve given up on that.” I brush my fingers over his swollen cheek from his scrap two nights ago in the second period. “Our little tornado of chaos. Get ready, daddy.”

“ ‘M so ready.” He insists, which is good because 20 weeks ago he was most definitely not. A lot has changed since then. “You too uncomfortable to bring these out to play?” He asks, cupping my right breast.

“Yes.” I immediately say. He pouts disappointedly. “I’m not sure my body can handle sex much longer in this pregnancy.” Miles and I had tried to get busy the other night but he’s a big boy. We found out that big boys and loosening ligaments in the pelvis, plus a softening cervix, do not make for any sort of sexual fun. Plus, last week, we found out I have a 99 percent-er inside of me. My doctor keeps chuckling every appointment they measure my tummy. It’s unnerving. This is what I get for having sex with a giant ass man.

“Are you worried about your appointment from last week still?”

“Yes.” I mumble, pouting. He kisses my forehead softly.

“You’ll be okay, baby.” He assures me. “I’ll be right there with you.”

“Do you think Santa came?” I ask him later, after snuggling for another hour. We both are begrudgingly ready to head out to the main area and join his parents.

“Actually yes I do!” He chuckles, opening our bedroom door. He ushers me out first. When I get out of the hallway, I gasp in surprise. Our entire apartment has been decorated with all of our Christmas decorations. Until seemingly last night, they were sitting, collecting dust in our storage unit in the building. I had been trying to decorate for weeks, but being sore and in pain and exhausted from pregnancy made it difficult to make much progress.

Randy and Cheryl are behind the island, grinning, clearly the culprits of this Christmas explosion.

“Merry Christmas!” They holler together. 

“Oh my god. I love you two so much.” I whine, tears building in my eyes as I walk to hug them both. “Thank you. This is incredible. So beautiful.” 

“Honey, it’s your stuff.” Cheryl teases. “You have excellent taste.” 

“Most of this is my mom’s.” I murmur sadly. Christmas is difficult for me because my mom passed around this time when I was in college. I always have to make room for my grief with my celebration of the holidays. This year, with being pregnant, knowing my mom will never meet our kid, it’s been a difficult season. Cheryl hugs me after I wipe my tears away. 

“We love you.” She reminds me. It’s not the same, but I did hit the Mother-In-Law jackpot. I know Cheryl will love our son proudly, which does make some of my mom being gone sting less. Miles rubs at my upper back, then drops a kiss on my lips. 

“How did you guys get all those ornaments on the tree?” Miles asks as he starts to grab the kitchen essentials for breakfast.

“Oh it was hard. We almost had to play ornament roulette.” Randy says seriously. “Which was gonna send your mom into cardiac arrest.”

“Oh stop it.” Cherry slaps Randy’s stomach. “I love our tradition of giving all the kids an ornament each year. Speaking of…” She trails off, hustling over to the coffee table. “I did only have to get one for you two this year.” She hands over the white box to me. I open it up to reveal two avocados. One of them, with long eyelashes has a brown pit in the middle with Baby Wood written in white letters across it. Below the avocados is a banner that says “We’re expecting!” I chuckle, showing Miles who does his signature giggle. 

“This is so cute! We are putting it front and center.” I walk over to the tree, nuzzling it next to an ornament from when the Wood family went to Glacier National Park when Miles was 8. I look at the pit, running my hands over my belly. “This might be as big as my belly right now.”

“You never finished telling us about your appointment last week.” Cheryl reminds me. Miles begins to pull ingredients for breakfast out of the fridge. He is going to make Belgian waffles with all the fixings.

“Oh! Right because someone started punching people.” I tease Miles who give a hardy har har over his shoulder at me. “Um, it was okay. Baby boy is big.” I widen my eyes, gesturing down to my stomach. “And they are already discussing the potential of me being induced or having a c-section. I guess Miles and my body proportions don’t line up well.” 

“Miles was a big boy. Saved the worst delivery for last.” Cheryl chuckles. “I remember the Canadian doctors telling me good luck crossing the border to have him in Buffalo because of how huge I was. They worried the thunder of Niagara Falls would make all hell break loose. They didn’t know much back in the day though.”

“I just hope Miles is in town.” I say honestly. If the baby comes early, Miles will be on a road trip. If he comes on his due date, Miles will be in the middle of a 6 game homestead. Praise be to the hockey Gods, amen.

“Yeah. It’s hard.” Cheryl agrees. She knows. She did it with all their children while Randy played in the NHL. Luckily, he made it to each birth.

“Kails will be fine. She is a rockstar. I’ll probably just be in the way.”

“No.” I whine, walking over to the stove and throwing myself into his big body. “Need you.” He drops the whisk he was using for the waffle batter and wraps his arms around me. 

“You got me, baby. I’m right here.” He murmurs against the top of my head. “Couldn’t live without you.”

In 13 weeks, Miles will be repeating those same words in a much more serious context.

More Miles and Kailey is coming soon here.

[tomtepixiedust]

I think Reigen needs a senpai, like a work senpai. And I think it should be Mrs Suzuki (couldn't find the name so in my mind she's Hoko Suzuki - name from her voice actor. Going by that her maiden name would be Hoko Kawashi - that's when he met senpai).

She's a gentle soul who had a depressive episode after the divorce and then having her kid taken by ex-husband with no official visiting times approved (not that that stopped her and her son from visiting each other of course).

Now that things are looking up she's able to focus on raising her kid, finally getting to gently reprimand (ehm trash ehm) her ex and getting back to work.

In short, a peaceful everyday life full of -

"What do you mean there's worker shortage and the deadline's next week?" Her face froze into a smile, her voice cool as ice.

And now she's got to drag back her precious kohai who's very good at work (also bullshitting needed to pull off a very charming presentation for a big client) to help them out.

"Huh, external consultant? I mean, I feel honoured you thought of me but as you see I run a very successful business so we're pretty much busy."

(Normally he'd have added a colourful splash of boasting to it but after that tornado week with Mob's outburst and the following confession, he thought about working on his sincerity - a little. You know, making tiny steps.) Then again, he was really tired from the amount of work and reconstruction (basically coordinating cause man for being powerful psychics they had some issues coordinating their work when it came down to basic work like reconstructing the buildings). Anyway.

"Wonderful!" She clasped her hands. "The more work experience the better, glad to see you finally working your dream job. As you see we have the Motor Electronics as our client and a presentation for them next week hence we need extra help to make the deadline."

"Aaah them." His face soured as his voice dropped. "Well good luck, really pushed you with this deadline but I got my own appointments and trainees to oversee."

"We pay."

"I know."

Thank god he got a stable inflow of appointments so he could decline otherwise he'd be stuck working hell hours to make this insane deadline. For all his love for money ain't no way he'd go back to that work. (A more uncertain part of him felt like it'd be a bit like failure to go back, especially after making it in his own niche thing.)

"Great! I'll email you the schedule for the project, I know you're good at scheduling and you've got help at your business. Glad to see you onboard again, Arataka-kun."

Gentle as a summer breeze yet cold as the ice in a freezer, she spoke to him, eyes zeroing in on his entire being.

Somehow her voice left no room for further arguments.

Cue in: montage of hell week by him being dragged around various places displaying his many talents as a not a normal anymore but an incredibly capable manager while cursing inside cause he wanted to leave that life long time ago to accepting shit situation cause Senpai said so. The uno reverse situation: reigen as the greatest psychic (ehm talented scammer ehm) failing to gain fame and money (but also not really failing - he a Schrödingers psychic cat) but by grinding hard to get the shitty project done starts failing upwards in that one aspect he really wasn't interested due to I-wanna-get-shit-done-and-get-out attitude meeting adults his age and older acknowledging his elaborate skillset.

Bonus:

Ritsu trying to sleep while Reigens grinding hard and getting acknowledged for his real skill: I feel a disturbance in the reality

Bonus 2:

Suzuki gives him a makeover for him to crossdress as a lady like god intended (for non work related reasons)

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Once 'Pon A Dreamses

(Set in @idiotwithanipad 's Gore AU, artwork credited to her. Tw: sudden infant death, kidnapping)

There be times when a mother doth have to go to extreme lengths for her little'en.

March 1606

"Come on now, Mary! I's can see the head." The midwife encourages, kneeling on the unswept floorboards of her neighbour's cottage; "Just a couple more big pushes and they be here."

"Arrrgh!" Mary Guppy gripped the posts of her bed, straining to stay on her feet.

Why couldn't her mother have lived for but one more year to be here with her for this? She not have many friends among the womenfolk of the village, save Lydia, who was almost as ostracised as she. At least Lydia was also the most skilled in helping deliver babies. But Mary would still trade her in a heartbeat for her mother's brief return.

Her constitution nearly fails her, cervix and womb burning with agony, as she forced herself to push once more.

"I can't do more, I can'ts." She whimpered.

"Yous gonna haveta, Mary, it needs at least one more big push and I don't wanna have ta-."

Lydia was cut off by the door slamming open.

"Mary! I hurried as fast as I could!"

The new voice made Mary sob with relief, though she held on tight to the posts rather than turn to look upon him.

"Ey, it not be proper for a man to be here when she still in her labours!" Lydia rebuked.

"Hush, woman! The Lord himself couldn't keep me out my own house at the birth of my firstborn!"

Mary felt her husband's hand clasp over hers as he rushed to her side.

"If thee be finish blasphemin', make yourself useful and lend strength to your wife so she can push this baby out!" Ordered Lydia.

"John...." Mary mewled, reaching for him.

The older man with bright, joyful eyes let his wife use him along with the bed to stay upright as her knees buckled.

"I's here, love. I's here. Come on now. Almost finished."

"No, no, this be wrong, Is can feels it. T'is the curse, John, the curse I brought 'pon us when we did nots break the cake at the wedding! The spirits hath come to take their vengeance!"

"Nonsense, dear wife! Thou art most faithful to the Lord in the whole of the village. He be with you, as I am. Now push, Mary, you can do this!"

Though she still wished for her mother to return from Heaven for this one perilous moment in time, her good husband's belief and encouragement was almost just as good.

A few quick, short breaths, then she did it. Her fingers squeezed hard around John and the bed frame and she pushed down, down, down...

She heard a squelch, a splatter of liquid...

And then a laugh.

"It be out! I got her!" Lydia cried in relief and triumph, "You has a daughter."

Mary nearly collapsed, her knees giving way before John caught her. A quick slice as Lydia cut the chord, then John all but scooped Mary up to guide her onto the bed to lay her down.

The room seemed to be spinning around her in a tornado of brown and orange from the hearth in their one room shack.

"Where she be? Where's my baby?" She asked in a daze.

John beamed, squeezing her hand.

"Lydia just be cleaning her up, love. You did it. T'is all over." He dabbed the sweat from her forehead with his cuff.

"B-but is she okay? She be whole and not deformed or cursed?"

Lydia mopped the newborn's delicate head, causing her to let out an irritated squall; "She be perfectly healthy, five fingers and toes on each, can't spot a single Devil's mark 'pon her flesh - 'sides a normal mole on her hip."

"See? She's fine, Mary. Peace." John's hand squeezed her shoulder.

"I...I thought I heard laughter. When she come out..." Mary blinked, giggling herself.

He chuckled; "Did sound like that a little, didn't it? Weren't just thy ears deceiving ye."

Finally, after what felt like far too long but couldn't have been more than a minute, Lydia brought the baby back to her mother.

"Put her on your chest, Mary, that it. Baby needs to hear Mum's heartbeat to teach her own to thump right." Instructed the midwife.

Yes, yes, whatever she needed to do. Mary reached out and brought the newborn to her chest, John helping to pull down her shift so no cloth came between mother and baby. He then shuffled in close, his arm behind her shoulders to prop her up a little, both parents gazing down in stricken wonder at their firstborn child.

Mary wept as the love inside her chest became near unbearable to contain. She had loved many in life, her mother, her animals, her herb garden, her dearest John, her God Above - but not even the final one could compare to her love for this little girl in her arms. Damn her to Hell for that if needs be.

The baby wasn't laughing, exactly, but she wasn't crying either. She gurgled contently as she nestled against her mother's warm, sweat soaked skin, fresh eyes flickering up to meet Mary's.

"Oh. Hello, Little'en. Hello." She smiled, speechless. "I'ms thy mummy. Yes...That I be."

"Welcome to our home, sweet girl. It not be much but I's gonna make it cosy as any castle for you and your mum." John cooed, stroking her cheek with his finger; "Oh, Mary. She be as beautiful as thou."

"Ye disappointed she not a boy?"

"Tush to boys. She as precious as the silver in the Lord's manor." He commented, "A boy might some day be my pride, but this here little daughter be my joy forevermore."

"Hmm. Don't hear a lot of that from fathers." Lydia said, "Now bear with. Still gots the afterbirth to come."

-

Awoken by the breeze on his face, John reminded himself to fix that window covering this afternoon. Early morning sunlight streamed through the wide open gap and onto their bed, causing his wife's face to appear even more radiant as she lay with a smile on her face.

He stretched his arms up, taking a moment to realise how long it had been since he woke only to the sound of the birdsong outside.

"Do I be dreamin' or did she sleep through the night entire?" He asked, softly, just in case his wife was still asleep.

Mary hummed, stirring; "Believe she dids. 'Bout time too, cheeky madam." Both chuckled fondly.

Their little girl, who they agreed would remain nameless until her first birthday so as not to tempt the fates, was nothing short of demanding for attention. She wasn't an unhappy or fussy baby by any means. But she was constantly wanting to be held or spoken to or simply acknowledged if anyone was within two metres of her. A cuddle or a song or a quick taste of her nylkies was usually enough to settle her.

All of this her parents were happy to indulge. Better a needy, clingy child than a sickly or sullen one - or worse, none at all. If they were aware of how the rest of the village muttered and gossip about how the Guppys spoiled their baby despite being one of the poorer families among them, John and Mary paid them no mind.

John kissed his wife's hair and then got himself up to get ready for work. Often the babe had already awoken Mary for his wife to prepare him some breakfast but today he'll make do with an apple on the way to the fields.

Tucking his hat over his head, he passed by the surprisingly quiet crib.

"You givin' your mummy a lie in, are ye? Good girl." John gazed down lovingly at the child, who didn't even wriggle at the sound of his voice as she usually did; "....Ey. Not even gonna wake to say bye to your Da 'fore he leaves? Hmm?"

Nothing.

Blood rushed to his ears and even the sound of the birds fell away to silence.

"Sweet girl?"

He pressed his fingers to her little chest.

"Oh no...No, no...."

"John? What's wrong?"

He scooped the baby up, her little body all too cold and floppy, before bringing her to her mother.

Please, have his wife tell him he's got it wrong, that he's being a silly arse. That the babe just be in a very deep sleep. That the blue around her lips be just a trick of the light.

The horror that dawned on his wife's face as she held the baby in her hands was like a metal spike nailed through his chest.

"Help! Someone please help! Where be the doctor?!" Mary wailed, stumbling out the cottage, barefoot and in her nightclothes, the baby clutched to her chest.

Though there were few who were close to the Guppys, those who were up and awake still rushed to their neighbours aid.

"She not breathing! I helds her to me but her heart don't beat to mine and her chest-." Mary was hysterical as she showed the villagers the tiny bo....Baby. Not body. Not yet.

"There be a physician staying at his Lordship's manor, I'll go fetch him." One man nodded at John before mounting his horse.

"God be with you. T'is okay, wife, help will come." Mary barely heard her husband's attempts to console her, the upbeat confidence in his voice clearly struggling.

They'd both been alive long enough and seen too many parents go through this to know hope was paper thin. Mary could already feel her heart shattering like glass. No. Please. Not hers. Not her baby girl, please.

Other womenfolk were rubbing her back and offering their condolences already, some of them having endured the agony she was about to face, their empathy overriding any harsh judgement they had towards the strange woman who often spoke to her plants and animals.

"T'will be too late by the time he arrives." Came a familiar voice nearby. Mary looked up to see Lydia stood by her doorway. "Bring the babe to me. I might be able to save her, if it not too late."

"Go away, ye hag! Now not be the time for your deceptions, leave poor Mary be!" One of the wives hissed.

Lydia's reputation as a respected midwife and medicine woman had gone down rapidly in the past month since paranoia about witchcraft and devilry in the country had increased, mostly thanks to the King himself. Even Mary and John had felt pressured to distance themselves from her, despite always thinking kindly after she'd safely brought their precious daughter into the world.

Mary met the older woman's eyes. They spoke with a promise that the seemingly inevitable grief she was about to suffer could be avoided.

Before anyone could stop her, she began shuffling quickly towards Lydia's cottage.

John didn't try to dissuade his wife and followed her in, throwing a comment to the whispering crowd that he would protect her from any temptation of sinful practices.

Mary handed the baby to Lydia who laid her on a table, unwrapping the swaddling cloths to get a proper look at her. John held his wife tight as they waited with baited breaths as Lydia's fingers felt the child over, then pressed her ear to the chest, opened her mouth and tried to pass tiny gasps of air through. She tried to rouse the babe with a drop of honey on her lips and waving mint beneath her nose, as well as dipping her in cold water.

Finally, Lydia stood up straight.

"I'm sorry. This child will not wake. I fear she's been gone for many hours."

Mary wanted to scream but no sound came.

It couldn't be happening. Please, Lord...

Lydia turned to them; "But do not grieve. For t'is not your babe to mourn."

John frowned; "What ye be saying, woman?!"

"I brought your daughter into the world, good sir. I 'member every babe I do catch and clean. This not be your child."

Mary shook her head; "W-what? No, I....I know my own little'en, I do!"

"M'sure you do, Mary, but panic can make our eyes deceive us. Look. Truly now, look upon her." Lydia beckoned the trembling woman close; "Look at her nose. And the hair." She had to pull back the bonnet her daughter had slept in to keep warm; "If that don't convince thee, find me the mole which was on her hip."

Mary's hands checked the baby over. As her fingers smoothed over the doll-like form, she noticed the subtle differences in shape and weight from the baby she'd put to bed only eight hours earlier. The tiny whisp of dark hair atop the brow was much lighter. And, clear as day, the mole was missing.

But how on Earth could...?

"What wicked deceipt be this?! Where be my little'en?! Where is she?!" Mary all but screamed.

"Try to be calm and think. Who had a child this age to put in place of thy own?" Asked Lydia.

There was only one possible suspect.

Grace Jones was a mere girl of fifteen who had fallen pregnant supposedly after eloping with a boy from another village, only to be abandoned by him shortly after. Her baby girl had been born a month after Mary's and Mary had even taken the young mother under her wing a little as the two raised their children, Mary even hoping they'd grow up as friends.

When John pounds his fist upon the girl's parents' door, he doesn't wait for a response before kicking it in, spurred on by the sound of a baby crying within the cottage.

Mary sees the young mother sat holding the baby close, tears streaming down her face. Her apologies fall on deaf ears as Mary rushes forward and all but snatches the child from weaker arms.

She doesn't even have to check for the mole. One look at the baby's red, distraught, crinkled face is enough. She knows her own child, despite having come so close to being tricked.

"Oh, it's you. It's you, my little'en. John, look, it be our babe, she doth live! Praise be!"

John touched the baby's head, tears in his eyes as he gazed upon his daughter.

"Oh, forgive me, sweet girl, forgive your da, he don't deserve ye for not seeing the truth." He kissed the little one's brow and wrapped his arms around both his wife and child.

The village officials as well as her own parents were already rounding on Grace, who was sobbing to herself, looking as though she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. How could anyone do something so heinous? To not only steal another babe but also make a family believe their own child to be dead?!

Her father was dragging the girl up by her arm and shoving her against the wall, beckoning his wife for a rod to lash her with. Possibly to spare her from worse punishment if he dealt with her himself.

"What didst ye do, stupid girl?! Did ye think by failing to care for thy own babe, it could just be easily replaced with another?!" He growled at her.

One of the officials had a darker suspicion; "Mayhaps the child was jealous the Guppy babe was healthier and brighter, so she smothered her own before the theft?"

"No, no, t'is lies!" Grace cried out, "I 'woke to find my Katherine blue and I panicked...I was gonna go find the doctor but knew it was too late...then I heard the Guppy babe gurgle and saw the window was open...I'm sorry, Mary, I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking, I thought the fae had swapped your child with mine-"

"Oh hush, wench, no one wants thy fantasies. Thou will be flogged for this and spend a week in the stocks. And if the law sees fit, ye may even be sent to the gallows."

"NO!"

It was Mary who had shouted the word. All eyes turned to her, still clutching her baby for dear life.

"Gracey has lost her own babe. Her grief be punishment enough. I felt myself die the moment I thought my little'en had..." her lip trembled as she looked at the baby again, as if to make sure she was still with her; "...Punish her lightly. Have her make her penance towards God. But she already has our forgiveness. Don't she, John?"

Looking over her shoulder, she could see that her husband was far less understanding as he glared at the teenager. But he tried his best to soften when Mary nudged him.

She was just a little'en herself. A terrified, grieving little'en. There but, for grace of God, go they.

John is given leave off work for the day to stay home, the whole family shaken by the traumatic events of the morning.

He holds Mary as the two sit by the fireplace, unable to take their eyes off the daughter they thought they would have to bury by the day's end.

"I wants to name her now, John. When Lydia said there was nought to be done, my first thought was how awful t'was to not have a name to write on her cross. No matter how small she be." Mary confided.

"No arguing from me. What does thou have in mind?" It was still a way off until her first birthday, they hadn't really discussed it. She was simply The Baby, or Sweet Girl, or Little'en.

Mary took a moment, tickling her child under the chin until she let out the tiniest peel of laughter.

"Silver. Silver Guppy."

"Ey? You sure?"

"Don't yous like it?"

"No, I do, s'just...Expected you to want something traditional and Christian. Somethin' ordinary." John shrugged.

"She be anythin' but ordinary. She did return to us from the great beyond." Mary dared to jest about the awful events; "You did say when she was born that she be as precious as his lordship's silver."

"Aye. That I did." Her husband chuckled, eyes sparkling with agreement as he watched his daughter fall asleep in her mum's arms, as if unaware she had almost been lost to them forever.

-

"Grrr! Look how strong you are! You nearly took Da's finger off! Then what shalls I hold my tools with?" John teased his two and a half year old as she grabbed his hand to try to stop him tickling her. "You'd has to come to the help me plough the field and get your pretty dress all dirtied!"

Silver giggled as she lay on the fox pelt rug, the softest surface in their one room cottage, before raising her arms, twirling her fists.

"Daddy, up! Up!"

"Daddy has to go to work, sweet girl. Or are you ready to come with me? Hmm?" He lifted her into his arms, all the same, "Yeah, I'd say your plenty grown up to help your da now, probably work harder than most of the lazy bums I has to spend the day with. Much nicer to look at too, gorgeous!"

"Don't even jest 'bout that, you ain't having her sit on your cart till she be at least five!" Mary chided. "She be barely out of her swaddlin' clothes."

"Hmm, and I know that were hard enough for you, wife." He said before winking at Silver, who giggled despite not getting the joke. She was just always giggling and smiling for her parents.

Her mother tutted and took a pause from skinning the rabbit for their stew.

"And what ye means by that, John Guppy?"

"You know what I mean! If it were up to thee, she'd stay in swaddling clothes and sleeping in her crib till Judgement Day." He said, lighthearted; "Can't keep her a baby forever, Mary. Especially not when you has another comin' soon."

Mary huffed and patted her swollen belly.

"Well if this one be a boy, ye can take him out to plough as early as ye wish. But leave my darling girl to me." She said with a touch of defiance, even to her own husband.

When it came to her daughter, there was no middle ground. She may have forgiven Grace for her trick and understood the Lord had tested her faith, but that didn't mean she was going to be less vigalent in keeping Silver safe, even if she lived to her forties. She would always be her baby.

John held his tongue and just nuzzled his little girl's, whispering; "Don't you worry, sweet girl, I'll be here to convince Mummy to loosen the reigns the bigger you get."

"I heard that!"

Dipping her hands in water to wash off the rabbit blood, she retrieved Silver from her husband and practically nudged him towards the door to leave for work.

John kissed his wife's cheek and then his own fingers before pressing them to Silver's nose.

"See you beautiful ladies later." He promised with another wink.

The child giggled and reached for her father to stay as he turned around.

Mary bounced Silver to cheer up before that pout could turn into a cry.

"Your da dunno what he speak of, I'll have no trouble wrangling you and your brother. 'Course yous has to help Mummy look after two boys in the house but that's ok. Wes a team, ain't we, darling girl? Ain't we?"

Silver squealed as her mother raised her dress to blow a raspberry on her belly.

"Yes, yes, Mummy!" She wasn't sure what she was agreeing to but helpless to resist Mummy's tickling.

The seemingly indestructible peace and happiness of their little home would last for one more hour. Silver sat on the table with one of her rag-dolls her mother had made, swinging her little feet while Mary prepared dinner. She sang along with her mother as she stirred the pot, and then when it came time to sweep the floors, Silver toddled around, squealing with laughter, as her mother threatened to sweep her up along with the dust, chasing the little one around the cottage.

Just as Mary had grabbed the child and was rolling with her on the floor, raining kisses on her cheeks, there came a knock at the door.

It was one of John's fellow farmhands. There had been an accident.

-

She hears the snap, followed by the crowd jeering. Her chest tightens as she does her best to stay smiling.

Johnny looks towards the window; "What's that?"

"Market day. Boring stuff. Let's keep playing." She'll need to remember to ask the Lord for forgiveness for lying later tonight.

As she makes her doll clash with her little brother's, making pretend of two soldiers entwined in battle, she tries not to imagine Aunt Lydia swinging at the end of the rope. Mummy said she shouldn't ever refer to her as Aunt Lydia aloud, only in the silence her heart. Oh how awful it must be for Mummy to have to watch. Silver had wanted to go too, but Mummy had wanted her here to watch over Johnny, or so she said.

She's given up trying to make sense of what Aunt Lydia did to warrant the gallows, not to mention the debasement done to her before hand. Silver had nearly got lashed herself for offering her water in the stocks, though Lydia had spared her by proudly proclaiming she'd bewitched the child to quench her thirst- which was a lie. Had that been her sin? Was it enough to be given the noose?

The door opens and Johnny toddles to clutch at his mother's dress. Silver follows, seeing that her mum looked in need of a hug.

"How be my darlins? You behavin'? No one came a knockin'?" She asks as if she'd just popped out to buy some flour.

Silver's attempts to ask about the hanging was met with sugar coated dismissal.

"T'was a painless end and she be in Heaven now, little'en, same as Daddy. Let that be the end of it. How 'bouts I bake us some buns, hmm?" Her offer distracted little John instantly.

Her mother conceded in at least letting Silver help her to bake rather than playing with her three year old brother.

"Did yous deliver those herbs to the big house for me, love?" Mary asked her as they sat down to eat later.

"Yes, Mummy."

"Good girl. Did yous see the 'eadless Lord's ghost again?"

Silver managed a giggle; "Noo. But I did hear a growl in the walls. Sounded like the strange beast of legend."

"Oooh, maybe. Better not wander too far alone or he gobbles you up!" Mary made a pouncing motion to amuse her children.

Silver laughed along with her brother, before trying to be serious again.

"I did see the Lady of the house. She spoke to me."

"Did she now? Now we are telling tall tales." Mary chided, lightly.

"T'is true, Mummy. I knew it was her 'cause o' how colorful her dress was. We crossed paths and I kept my head down to head home but she told me to stop. She asked what I'd brought and I told her about the herbs, said my mum had grown them in her own garden. Her Ladyship told me to send you her thanks for making the dinner more....uh....bearble?"

Her mother blushed and chuckled; "Oh. Well still not sure I believes you but that was kind of her to say."

"And then she said I looked like a hard little worker. I told her I was. Then she offered me a job."

The smile fell from Mary's face.

"She dids what?"

"Offers me a job." Silver repeated, faltering a little. She'd been expecting her mum to be happy, but she looked furious. "Said she'd lost some of the staff to plague recently and was in need of hardworking young hands. She said I'd be allowed to stay in the house if it was easier, and I'd be paid well for hard work."

"And what dids you say back?"

"I...I thanked her for the offer but said I'd have to discuss it with you first. Coz you be a widow and needs help with my little brother."

Her mother deflated a little.

"Good. Clever girl, that be the right thing to say. Hopefully she forget it by tomorrow, highborn memories of common folk never last long. And if you do happen to pass her again, just tell her your mother can't afford to part with ye."

Silver blinked; "You mean I can't go?"

"'Course not, little'en! I need you here! Anyway, what she think she be doing, offering a scullery job to a child of six!"

"She didn't say it would be the scullery."

Mary scoffed; "They not be wanting a young peasant child upstairs cleaning the rooms, love. They stick you in that kitchen and there won't be no getting out. No. No, I won't let it happens. I has too much work on to leave Johnny alone."

"I was younger than Johnny when you left me alone to care for him."

Mary met her daughter's eyes and Silver dipped her head.

"Sorry, Mummy, I didn't mean-."

"This ain't the life I wanted for you but we gets by, don't we? I try my best. If I coulds I'd have you living in a palace wearing fancy dresses I would, but working in the manor won't have you any closer-."

"I don't care about pretty dresses, Mummy. I's just worried about you."

"...Me?"

"Yous work so hard. On the field and making all these medicines for peoples and then looking after me and Johnny. You barely eats much yourself. It ain't fair. You do so much for us...and the town, but they still gossip cruelly. I just wanted to help, t'is all."

Mary stared at her daughter, six going on twenty. Barely two heads taller than her brother who was amusing himself, ignorant of all their woes. That's how she was supposed to be. Her protected little girl, innocent and happy, not worrying about helping to support her own mother.

A tear leaked from her eye as she patted her knee and opened her arms; "Come 'ere, little'en."

Silver climbed onto her mum's lap. It was rare that she got the opportunity to do this, with Johnny taking up most of her mother's attention when she came home. Now Mummy squeezed her tight, rocking her like she was small again. Smaller, even.

"You don't need to be fretting over me, darling girl. Your daddy was smart enough to save up enough shillings to get us through the worst of it. Soon Johnny will be old enough to help bring us in more. And if things get difficult then I'm sure they'll always be wanting servant girls in that big house a few years from now...But you just stay a child, my Silver, just a little bits longer. Stay with me. Okay?"

Silver nodded; "Okay, Mummy."

Mary pulled back and smiled, rubbing her nose against hers; "Wes a team, ain't we? Ain't we?"

Another tickle attack to her sides.

"Yes, Mummy!"

-

The witchfinders come. Same as before.

They knock on the door in the middle of the night. The mob have assembled and before Mary has a chance to protest, she's dragged out to the streets.

Except this time they don't get their hands on boy. Silver carries her brother as they escape out the window and into the woods. Her mother had ordered her to run to safety before they bashed their way in.

She finds a church. She orders Johnny to stay as she knocks on the door for the priests to find the abandoned child, promising to return.

Another lie, not that she knows it at the time.

But her and Mummy are a team. She's not leaving her to face the same fate as Aunt Lydia. Or worse.

-

It's all a trick. A clever switch.

Just like the one that the poor mad Jones woman tried to do with her when she was a baby.

The crowd cheer as they watch the flames rise and consume the two bodies tied to the pyre. One large, one small. The devil takes many forms, even children, it seems.

The real Mary and Silver watch from the trees as the copies of themselves, conjured through smoke and mist and mixed with drops of their own blood, scream in agony until only their crumbling black husks remain.

Silver grips her mum's hand tight.

"Will Johnny be okay?" She asks, hating that she had to break her promise to him.

Mary tugs her close; "The world be much kinder to menfolk. And he'll have more hope of thriving across the water to the New World than here. I'll think of him every day, my bouncing boy. But I know the Lord, or whatever spirits are up there, will be with him."

She turned and scooped Silver up, smiling at her adoringly.

"Now t'is just you and Mummy, little'en. Forever and ever, I'm all yours."

Silver wondered if she should feel guilty for being a little glad of that. Was that selfish? Oh who cared what sins the dead committed.

"What will we do, Mummy?"

"Whatever we want. I be the new Witch of the Woods. I can make all my little girl's dreams come true now. You wilst want for nothing. Castle, dresses, cakes a plenty. I'll wave my hand and make it so."

Raising her hand up, sparkling embers danced from her fingertips and formed into glowing faerie lights that attached themselves to the trees, lighting up the forest.

She doesn't know where Mummy got these powers from, if they were always within her or passed on by Aunt Lydia. She didn't care. Her mummy was magic.

But all the gifts and excitement of such a life could wait. For now, all she wanted was holding her in a loving embrace.

Silver wrapped her arms tight around Mummy's neck. They were safe and together.

Nothing else mattered.

-

A mother has to go to extreme lengths for her little'en.

Just take my daughter. She were stolen from me as a babe. Snatched from her cradle in the night and replaced with some other poor dead child. And me and her father had been blind to the truth. There had been no kind Aunt Lydia to reveal to us what should have been clear as day.

It took me four hundred years to find her again. Somehow she'd remained frozen in youth, both in body and mind. Fate had taken her eyesight too. But that didn't matter. None of it did. She had recognised me in her heart before I did her. She embraced me. She called me Mummy.

The veil that had been placed over my eyes was finally lifted. My little girl had survived and she had found her way home.

But blindness is not my Silver's only affliction. Those snakes that took her had twisted her mind in knots. Sometimes, the years of lies and captivity became too much for her fragile mind to cope and she forgets the truth. She forgets that she be mine. Forgets who her real Mummy is. It can became distressing, borderline explosive, as the confused child attempts to flee from me and my dear ally as if we mean her harm.

Do I punish her for these tantrums? Do I confine her with chains to keep her with me against her will?

No. Never. Instead, I use my dark gifts to sooth her poor little mind. She be tortured by a similar madness that pains my ally is all. I just need a little more care and subtlety with the little'en.

T'is why I make myself suffer by laying down on my burned and crisp side beside her as she sleeps. T'is why I hold her close and hum her lullaby as my smoke wafts into her ears and fills her brain with different memories to replace those of her false life. Well, not quite replace, but smooth over.

Memories of a life stolen from both of us. The life we could've...should've had. Still as close as to reality before the end. A life where my Silver got to grow up in her own home, where she got to have a couple more years with her doting father, where she got to meet her brother. A life where we gots to escape and be together. Happily evers after.

Perhaps it was as much for me as Silver if I be honest. Looking at her now, I still see the six year old child the fictional version of myself I did carry with me into the woods to make our new home. Where we gots spend all these centuries together, not apart, where my heart wasn't reduced to a lump of coal in my withered chest and my little girl wasn't growing up feeling unloved and unwanted.

The little'en stirs and then curls into me when she recognises my scent, her body relaxed as can be in her condition. Comfy in the long bones that be my arms.

"Mummy....I just had the strangest dream." She tells me, eyes still closed with that beautiful smile on her face.

I kiss her nose and stroke the pink fringe of hair from her brow; "Oh yeahs? Go on then, darling girl. Tell Mummy all abouts it."

[sleepless-strawberry]

[WP] You're an ex-supervillain on probation. When the state let you out of the supermax-prison, they appointed your nemesis, the hero(ine), as your parole officer. This isn't going to be easy for either of you…

“See I was never all that big on the whole supervillain shtick.

“The way I saw it was either I start working at a whorehouse, sell my organs or well… minor criminal activity. 

“Okay, okay, I know that sounds bad but times were tough and I didn’t have much going for me in terms of well… education in general. 

I’d like to think that I never put anyone in life threatening danger but I know what I did was wrong and I can only hope you forgive me… because at the end of the day… I did it for you… Jane, my sweet little girl and as it turns out, superheroine.” I look across the empty white room that has a large one-sided mirror, a desk, to which I’m cuffed, a pair of metal folding chairs and on the other side is one of the top superheroes of Burlesk Bay and well yeah… my 18 year old daughter… who I abandoned pretty much right after birth. 

The superheroine known as Forcefield Girl was wearing a dark blue skin-tight suit with a white shield depicted on her chest. She donned a simple cape of the same dark blue colour and something that resembled a more sleek version of a SWAT helmet that covered her head, ears and eyes. 

Despite that, I could clearly see the death glare from behind her visor. 

“Not buying it.”

“Tch.”

“Dame Dove, you’re a notorious villainess with a… reputation to say the least. And even if you are my biological mother, I know nothing of your civilian identity, Diana D. Dove… if that even is your real name.”

“C’mon sweetie don’t be this way!”

“Ms. Dove, we just met yesterday for the first time in over 18 years.” 

“Because I had a change of heart and decided to switch the side of good after seeing what a brave heroine you’ve become!”

“You broke into my house, intoxicated, and then tried to seduce your ex-husband, my father, before I promptly arrested you in my civilian clothes.”

“It was a touching reunion wasn’t it.” I say as I use one of my fingers to wipe away the non-existent tears. 

Forcefield Girl lets out a long siiiiggghhh. “If we could come back to the topic of why we shouldn’t imprison you in max-security for your over two decades worth of bio-terrorism?” Snapping back at the false accusation I shout “Hey! Since when was what a woman does in her free time considered bio-terrorism?!” “Ever since a woman’s free time included flocking the city streets with hundreds of thousands of pigeons.” I could hear as her voice started becoming more stern, losing her patience at my tomfoolery. 

“... that wasn’t me.” Hopefully I can still deny my connection to my supervillain identi-

My thoughts are interrupted by a recording of my own voice coming from the speaker in the room “What the fuck do you mean you’re arresting me?! Don’t you know who I am! I’m Dame Dove! Real name, Diana D. Dove! The greatest supervillain the world has ever seen! And also you mother, I think! I love white bread and my address is 2-” 

The recording cut there. 

Well I’m officially fucked! Note to self: never break into my exs’ house again using a tornado of pigeons and reveal sensitive information after drinking too much. 

Forcefield Girl tried to massage her temples but failed due to her helmet still being on. Coughing awkwardly to hide her embarrassment she kept going “Let’s cut to the chase Ms. Dove. We don’t usually do this with the villains we’ve captured but the Council has decided to put you on probation in the Hero Team I’m currently responsible for, Temperance if you were to agree to some of our… conditions.” She pushes a stack of documents over to me as she speaks. 

“Yeesh, so business-like for my alleged daughter!” I say not expecting a reply as I start to read through the terms. 

Blah blah blah. You are forbidden to harass people with animals of the Columbidae bird family. Blah blah blah blah blah. No terrorism. Blah blah blah blah blah. No breeding invasive species. Yada yada yada. Ah! There it is! You are not allowed to disclose to the general public that 50% of the pigeon population in the United States of America are surveillance drones!

I fucking knew that blackmailing the government with that nifty piece of info would pay off! Fuck yeah! Let’s go, me!

I started signing the documents with new-founded zeal as there is a gross lack of pigeons, traumatised ex-husbands and abandoned daughters who are secretly superheroines in max-security prison. There was simply no way on Earth, heaven or hell that I was going to miss out on all that fun!

I sign the documents with a doodle of a pigeon, or at least something vaguely resembling it since artistic talent is something that I’m quite short of. 

“Well, Jane, looks like we’ll be working together going forwards, feel free to call me mommy!” I grin trying not to let the hilarity of it all show on my face. 

“Mhm… can’t wait…” her voice was empty as she replied but I could almost see her rolling her eyes back behind her visor. 

God, this is going to be soooo fun! For me at least!

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iv

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 11.3k

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions (you might laugh, you might cry, and you might just wanna punch something after this chapter), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecation in some aspect, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: So, elephant in the room....how did this get past 11k when other chapters are significantly shorter? Well...I had ideas? I'm sorry!! 🫠 ANYWAY more angst in this chapter. Sorry not sorry for what you will consume here. I honestly love this chapter so much though! Okay, I won't say any more bc spoilers are cool but not in my fic! (hehe) Enjoy! 🥰

series masterlist | next >>

Numb.

It’s the only word you can rummage up to describe the sudden shift in your demeanor. You’d think one’s typical response to their ex-husband’s drunken confession would be one of confusion, anger, hurt, or the like.

But you’ve gone stone cold instead, barely able to feel the steaming hot water that kisses your skin from within the tub. The room seems to have become a bit of a haze too, your vision blurring as you grip your cell phone in your hand.

The absurdity of it all—the man who handed you divorce papers now professing his love—feels like a cruel joke. The sheer impossibility of the situation is almost laughable, yet you can't even bring yourself to do that at this point. You've exhausted all of your emotional resources.

You’re unsure how many seconds pass before his voice calls your name again.

“__? Are you still there?” His voice is a muffled echo in your mind. It sounds so far away, though you know he’s right here on the other end of the line.

"Honestly Jungkook…I don’t know what you expect me to say.”  The words come out slow, measured, and almost emotionless.

There's a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is hoarse, cracking under the weight of his confession. "I guess—I'm not sure either. But I just needed you to know. I needed to tell you everything."

“You're drunk. You realize that, right?"

“I had a few beers, yeah," he admits. "Maybe I'm a little tipsy. But it doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately. I miss you, __, a lot."

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you’re back in the past, back when those words would have meant the world to you. But now, they feel hollow, devoid of the warmth they once carried. And how can they not? You tethered yourself to your ex-husband for three years, learned his patterns, became acquainted with his needs, and danced with his indifference. In the end, the result is always the same, and this time is no different. By morning, he'll likely forget everything he's ever said to you and return to his normal habits.

You take a deep breath, your head resting on the cool porcelain tub, and close your eyes. "I can’t do this," you say quietly. "Not now."

"It's late. I understand-"

"No," you interrupt, voice firmer, "you don't understand, Jungkook. You don't understand me and you never have. I'm hanging up now."

"Please don't. I know I've hurt-"

"Stop. Do you know how patronizing that sounds to me? Please don't call this number again."

"But... I love you, __," his voice is barely a whisper. "Do you not love me anymore?"

"Goodbye, Jungkook." You end the call before another word can drop from his lips, or yours for that matter. It's time you accept that you are never more than an impulsive decision, a temporary solution, and an item on his agenda. Tonight's conversation solidifies that for you.

Despite being sleep-deprived the next morning, you refuse to let fatigue keep you from fulfilling your promise to visit Taehyung at the hospital. You've been anxious about him all night, tossing and turning without respite. The weight of your ex-husband's drunken confession added to your restlessness as well. Nevertheless, you push it out of your mind as you bound out the front door.

Upon arrival, you are greeted by an abundance of flowers, cards, and thoughtful gifts scattered around Taehyung’s hospital room. One bouquet on the windowsill catches your attention in particular—its familiar scent of lavender is instantly recognizable.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice says from behind you. You turn to see Dr. Min entering the room, Taehyung’s chart in hand. He seems more lively than last night, his expression noticeably brighter with a faint smile on his lips.

“Yes, they’re lovely,” you reply. “I’m guessing these are from Taehyung’s fans and colleagues?”

He nods. “Indeed. Lavender is a calming scent. It’s no wonder people chose it for him.” The corners of his mouth lift slightly before he continues, “My girlfriend loves it too. She says it helps her relax after a long day.”

The comment is unexpected yet sweet. You notice the suppressed grin and the warmth in his eyes easily, signaling his deep affection for her. You wonder how it must feel to love someone so purely and without restraint. Before the thought lingers, your gaze shifts involuntarily to the man on the hospital bed, still asleep. Though the bandages are gone and his breathing is stable, your concern deepens as you take in his nearly still form.

“How’s he doing?” you ask, moving closer to his bed. Your heart tightens with each step as the cuts and burns on his face become more visible.

“He’s lucky,” Dr. Min says, walking to the opposite side of the bed, his tone growing serious. “He has multiple rib fractures, a mild concussion, and a few burns, but it could have been worse. Taehyung is stable now, and we’re monitoring his progress closely.”

“How long will it take for him to heal?”

“His face burns are only second-degree, so they should heal in a couple of weeks. The concussion should also resolve with ample rest and by avoiding strenuous activity—both physical and mental.”

“Which means he won’t be able to act for a while?” you ask, reading between the lines.

“Afraid not,” Dr. Min dismisses the idea. “Hopefully, his projects can accommodate his absence.”

“What about his rib fractures? I imagine those will require the most attention.” You feel like you might be asking too many questions, knowing Dr. Min will likely need to repeat everything to Taehyung later, but you can't hold back. After all, you made a promise to yourself last night that you'd ensure he'd be alright.

“Yes," Dr. Min answers carefully, "they could take up to three months to fully heal. We recommend applying ice for 20 minutes at a time, several times a day. As long as he remains stable over the next few days, he can be discharged to continue his recovery at home." He pauses, allowing you to process the information before continuing. "It's crucial that he rests. Even if he feels bursts of energy, he needs to let his body heal. Light activities like breathing exercises and short walks are fine, but he should avoid intense exercises until we give the all-clear.”

You nod thoughtfully, absorbing Dr. Min’s detailed prognosis. Taehyung’s condition sounds serious but manageable. After such a traumatic accident, it's clear he'll need months to heal. Getting him to adhere to the doctor's orders will be challenging, given his profession and active social calendar. However, if you need to be the one to remind him, you will.

“I’ll make sure he follows your recommendations,” you assure Dr. Min, your voice tinged with concern.

“I have no doubt,” Dr. Min replies with a reassuring smile. “You know, you're the first person who’s shown up for him both last night and today. Aside from that young man who came in briefly. Namjoon, right?”

“Yeah,” you respond slowly, the revelation catching you off guard. “He works as my secretary but he's also a good friend of Taehyung's. His family really hasn’t come in yet?” You circle back to Dr. Min's first point with a sense of urgency.

You wouldn't normally be this insistent on the matter; however, past conversations with Taehyung have revealed how much he cherishes his family, often sharing stories about their reunions with warmth and enthusiasm. With such a loving family, you’re taken aback that they haven’t shown up yet. Then again, his accident was sudden, and there could be various reasons for their delay. Do they even know about his accident, for that matter?

“They called, of course, but you’re the first to actually come in,” Dr. Min clarifies, his gaze thoughtful as he responds to your concern. "You must be quite an attentive boss to show this level of care for your colleague."

There's an underlying suggestiveness laced in his tone, but you're quick to brush it off, redirecting the focus to Taehyung’s condition. “It’s the least I can do, given what he’s going through,” you say, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “He’s a valuable member of our team, and I want to make sure he gets back on his feet as soon as possible.”

Dr. Min's eyes twinkle, as if holding back further commentary. “Even from a professional standpoint, not everyone would go to such lengths for a coworker. He’s fortunate to have you.”

You feel a slight flush as his subtle implications continue. “Well, I just…care about his well-being. Besides,” you glance back at Taehyung, your expression softening more than you intend, “I know he'd do the same for me.”

For a few short breaths, Dr. Min remains silent as your attention remains fixed on your colleague. “I need to check on a few other patients so I’ll leave you two alone for now," he finally says, breaking the silence. “I'll be back to check in on him again later, but if you have any questions or need anything in the meantime, the nurse is nearby."

With a nod and a soft "thank you," you watch Dr. Min exit the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung once more. After settling into a chair beside his bed, you silently observe the steady rise and fall of his chest. The rhythmic sound of his breathing is a small comfort amidst his vulnerable state. Despite everything, you're glad he's going to be okay.

As each minute passes, nurses come and go, and the hum of activity outside the room gradually fades into a background murmur. You had only planned to stay for an hour this morning, but time seems to slip away as the clock now nears 1 p.m. You had hoped Taehyung would be awake by now, but he remains still.

After a brief sigh, the thought occurs to you that you don't have to spend so many hours here, waiting for Taehyung to wake up. It's the weekend, and there are plenty of other things you could be doing instead. Dr. Min could easily call you the moment Taehyung wakes up. But something in your conscience urges you not to leave. Just give it another hour, you think. If he isn’t awake by then, you can come back tomorrow.

Suddenly, a slight movement catches your eye. Taehyung's fingers twitch, and his eyelids flutter. You nearly missed it with how lost you were in your thoughts.

Leaning forward with nervous relief, you softly call his name. It takes him a few seconds, but slowly, his eyes blink open. He turns his head slightly, gaze eventually finding yours, and you feel momentarily transfixed. It's unlike you to respond this way, but you had forgotten how piercing and comforting his eyes could be. A genuine smile immediately spreads across his face once your eyes meet, though not as boxy as usual due to his condition. Nevertheless, it's encouraging to see him awake and responsive.

“Hi," his voice is strained but recognizable. "It's...nice to see you."

“The feeling's mutual,” you respond gently. “How are you feeling?”

He shifts slightly, wincing a bit. “Like I got hit by a truck,” he mutters. “I’m sore all over.”

“You had a close call, but you’re in good hands now. Your doctor, Dr. Min, says you'll be okay, as long as you take it easy for a while. He was here earlier this morning, but he'll check in with you again soon.”

"You..." He hesitates, surprise flickering in his eyes. "You've been here since morning? What time is it now?"

"Oh, uh, it's around 1 in the afternoon," you say, gradually realizing the weight of your words. You consider whether or not to tell him the full extent of your stay. “I got here a few hours ago. Don’t worry.”

Taehyung nods slightly, a mix of gratitude and concern evident in his expression. “Thank you for being here,” he murmurs. “I wasn't sure if I'd be alone.”

A sinking feeling settles in your chest at his words, your throat tightening. Before you can ask what he means, he continues, “I must have taken a lot of your weekend from you.” His tone is apologetic, and your heart aches. Here he is, lying on a hospital bed, in pain and vulnerable, and he’s worried about inconveniencing you.

“I'm glad to be here,” you reassure gently. “I promise, you’re not alone. A lot of people care about you.”

Taehyung glances around, taking in the gifts and flowers scattered throughout the room. “From my fans, I’m guessing?” he asks, attempting to keep his tone light.

“And your colleagues too,” you reply. “We all want to see you get better." Taehyung returns his gaze to you, a faint smile lingering on his lips. Neither of you says anything, which unsettles you.

“Did you sleep okay?” you ask, the question coming out more hurriedly than intended.

“I drifted in and out for most of the night. It’s hard to get comfortable,” he admits, "I think I could still hear a lot around me. It felt like someone was holding my hand for a few minutes too, but I’m not sure how much of it was real or just dreams, though.”

Oh shit. You weren't expecting that answer.

The possibility that Taehyung might have heard you talking to him last night shouldn't be that embarrassing, yet your mind races with thoughts of what he might have heard or understood in his semi-conscious state. Not only did you share more than you probably should have, but you also touched his hand to feel his pulse, and he felt it.

“Well, um, I'm sorry to hear you had a rough night. You should rest more,” you suggest, trying to compose yourself. "I should get going anyway and let you sleep.” You begin standing from your seat but don't get far before the gentlest of touches brush against your wrist. When you look at Taehyung, he quickly retracts his fingers, concerned he overstepped.

"Shit, I'm sorry, __. I didn't mean to grab at you like that," he says softly. "It's just...would you mind staying with me a little longer, please? I'd really appreciate the company."

You can hear the yearning in his request. It's clear that he doesn't want to be alone, and you don't blame him, especially after the accident he's endured. Settling back into the chair, you agree to stay a bit longer, perhaps another half hour, before heading home; you realize you haven't eaten lunch yet.

"So, how are you doing?" he asks. "We haven't talked in bit."

His question triggers a flood of thoughts, the most recent interaction with your ex-husband being one of them. Up until now, you've managed to push his drunken call out of your mind, preferring to focus on Taehyung instead. However, Jungkook's unexpected confession still throws you for a loop. It's not that you're riddled with the need for clarity on its validity, especially since you don't believe him anyway. How could he claim to love you when he also admits he doesn't understand his own feelings? On top of that, being drunk while doing so—it doesn't make sense.

No, the real question now is what happens next. How do you proceed? Will he try to reach out again? The way he asked if you still loved him before you ended the call weighs on your mind even now.

You know you'll need to discuss this with Melody during your next therapy session.

Before you spiral further, you decide to steer the conversation away from personal matters and opt for a safer topic.

"The company is doing well," you reply with a smile. "The new campaigns we've put out recently have been pretty successful. Although," you add, a hint of curiosity in your tone, "the team has missed your frequent drop-ins, especially Namjoon." If you're honest with yourself, you've missed them too.

"How is he? Namjoon?"

"He's okay, but he's been concerned for you," you answer carefully. "When we heard the news, we came to see you together, but he was quite affected. He promised to visit once you woke up."

"So," Taehyung takes a moment to process. "That was this morning, right?"

"No, actually, it was yesterday."

There's a brief, awkward silence as you sense Taehyung might be thinking the same thing you are—about your presence last night. Surprisingly, he doesn't bring it up. Instead, he eyes you curiously, biting down on his lip slightly.

"I meant to stop by last week," he admits. "But we were wrapping up the final scenes of my film shoots. The producers were eager to finish them. I'm just thankful we got them done. I wanted to spend a day riding my bike along a scenic route until... well, until all of this happened. I don't remember much, but I'm just grateful Tan wasn't with me."

"Tan?" you ask, curious now.

"Yeontan, my pomeranian," Taehyung explains with a soft smile. "He means the world to me. My parents take care of him when I'm busy with filming. I was actually planning to drive up and visit them this weekend. And, of course, bring Tan back home with me. They live pretty far from here, so it's better that I go up to them if I can."

Well, that answers the question about his parents not being here yet, you think to yourself.

As Taehyung speaks, you can see a flicker of fondness and relief in his eyes when he mentions his dog. It must have been months since he last saw him.

"I bet you miss him a lot," you comment softly, "Tan."

"I do," he admits with a slight smile, "but I know he's being well taken care of. Hopefully, I can see him soon. And my parents too."

"I understand that feeling," you reply, nodding thoughtfully. "Pets have a way of becoming family, don't they? I had a cat named Evie when I was growing up. She was a feisty little thing with green eyes, always getting into mischief. We got her from the streets and she was so slim, but it didn't take her long to beef up with all the treats we gave her. Whenever I was feeling down, she would curl up next to me, as if she knew. It's funny how they have that kind of intuition, isn't it?"

Taehyung listens intently, a small smile playing on his lips. You feel a slight flush of embarrassment at your tangent. It's one of the few times you've shared something personal about yourself that wasn't work-related. Feeling like you might have overshared, you decide to stop, assuming Taehyung isn't interested in knowing that much.

You chuckle inwardly at yourself.

Jungkook was your husband for three years, and he never seemed to care about such personal details.

I—" you start, intending to apologize, but Taehyung interrupts.

"Did you have any other pets?" he asks, curiosity piqued.

You chuckle softly, reminiscing. "Yeah, we had... uh, god, you don't want to know how many pets we had."

"Try me," his eyes become playful, yet there's a seriousness behind them, like he really wants to know. It's unfamiliar.

"Alright," you chuckle, "aside from Evie, there were three other cats. Calvin and Misha were the adventurous ones, always climbing trees, while Pip was the cuddly lap cat. Then there were two dogs: Toby, our sneaky Chihuahua, and Bella, a terrier who growled at everyone. Oh, and we had three rabbits too. Cute, but also feisty."

Taehyung laughs, "I sense a theme going on."

"What theme?"

"Well," he grins, "It seems like your household was filled with some strong main characters."

You chuckle at his joke. "Yeah, our house was never quiet, that's for sure. Each one had their own personality and quirks."

"You don't have any now though? Pets, I mean," Taehyung asks.

"Sadly, I don't," you reply with a hint of regret. "The company takes up a lot of my time, and I don't think it would be right to leave a pet alone for extended periods. I might consider getting another cat, but right now, focusing on running the company leaves me with little spare time. I miss having them around though."

Taehyung mulls over your word carefully. “If I ever get out of this hospital...maybe I—”

Before he has the chance to finish, the hospital room door opens, and Dr. Min enters, his expression serious yet composed. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, not expecting to see you still here and Taehyung awake. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he begins, glancing between you and his patient. “It’s good to see you up and looking a bit better."

Dr. Min approaches Taehyung's side, opposite to you. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

Taehyung's demeanor shifts instantly, his playful expression fading as he turns to answer. “Pretty sore, honestly,” he replies.

Dr. Min nods. “Let’s run a few checks to see how you’re doing.”

Sensing this is your cue to leave, you rise from your chair and reach out to touch Taehyung's hand. But you stop yourself short. Something about performing the physical action while he’s fully conscious instills a flutter of nerves within you. Instead, you gently tap his shoulder, causing him to meet your eyes. “I think I'll be going now, but it was nice talking to you,” you say softly. "Was there something you wanted to say earlier, though?"

He pauses for a moment before replying, his expression reminiscent of the time a few weeks ago when you declined his dinner invitation. You still don’t understand why he seemed somewhat disappointed; it's not like it was a date. He had made it clear he wanted to go out as colleagues. The only reason you declined was because you didn’t want him feeling pity for you, or the struggles that came with the divorce.

"It's okay, we'll have to save that conversation for another time," Taehyung's voice brings you back to the present. "Enjoy the rest of your day, __. Thanks again for staying with me."

"Of course," you reply, then turn to Dr. Min. "If you wouldn't mind letting me know when and if he can be discharged, I'd appreciate it. And Kim Namjoon too, since we're both nearby." Dr. Min nods in agreement. With that, you sling your bag over your shoulder and exit the room.

“He said what?!” Your best friend Jimin almost shouts through the video call, eyes wide with disbelief. You’ve just finished recounting your ex-husband's unexpected, drunken confession from the previous night. Jimin, who already holds a deep-seated grudge against Jungkook, looks livid.

“He had the nerve to say that to you? While he was drunk?” Jimin continues, his hands clenching into fists.

You nod, feeling a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “Yeah, I told him not to call my number again and he hasn't contacted me since.” As expected, he likely forgot all about it.

“Good,” Jimin declares with a fierce protectiveness, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You don’t need that kind of drama in your life, especially not from him. And if he even thinks about calling you again, just say the word, and I'll come down there and handle it personally.” He emphasizes 'personally' with such intensity that it makes you giggle for the first time tonight.

“Thanks, Jimin,” you say, a warm feeling spreading through you at his unwavering support. “I’m just trying to move on, focus on work, and other things.”

Jimin’s expression softens, and he nods firmly. “You're incredibly strong, __. Are you really okay though? It was a huge blow for him to make a confession like that and even though I dislike him, I know you still have some lingering feelings for him. I'm not a fool to believe you're unaffected.”

You take a deep breath, appreciating your best friend's perceptiveness. “It’s complicated. I’m trying so hard to move past everything, especially with Melody's help, and then he just…throws that at me. It’s like he’s trying to pull me back into his mess.”

Jimin’s eyes are filled with concern. “You don’t owe him anything. Remember that. He made his choices, and you have every right to move on without his baggage.”

“I know,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “It’s just…easier said than done. But I’m working on it.”

“You’re doing great,” Jimin reassures, his voice gentle. “And you have every right to focus on yourself now. Don’t let him mess with your head.”

You nod, feeling a bit lighter with the support. “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”

“I'm always here for you love,” he says, his protective demeanor softening into a warm smile. “Now, enough about that idiot. How’s everything else? Work? Taehyung? Everyone at the office is talking about his unfortunate accident, poor sucker.”

At the mention of your colleague, you feel a sudden heat rise to your cheeks. Did the heaters in your apartment just turn up or something?

“He’s slowly recovering," you answer. "I saw him this morning and we talked for a bit. He’s... he’s been through a lot.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow, “You saw him yesterday too, right? And if my memory serves, you were at the hospital with him until the afternoon. I remember I texted you to see if you were free to call earlier than planned. Something you'd like to tell me?” A teasing grin suddenly spreads across his face, and you shake your head, knowing exactly what he's insinuating. It's like talking to Dr. Min all over again.

“Seriously, Chim, no, it's not like that," you deny instantly, heart racing a little. "He's been my company endorser for a little over six months now, and he’s been nothing but kind to me. With everything he’s been through, I just want to make sure he'll be okay. I feel somewhat responsible for him. Maybe I'm crazy.”

“Responsibility, huh?” Jimin smirks, unconvinced of your denial. “Sure. Because ‘responsibility’ usually makes people blush.”

You wave off his suspicions, a nervous chuckle escaping you. “I’m not, so if you wouldn't mind ceasing your teasing, that'd be great."

“Okay, okay,” Jimin chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But if you ask me, it sounds like more than just responsibility. Taehyung seems like a sweet guy, and you care about him. And I sense he feels the same way about you. Don't think I forgot about his little dinner request weeks back.”

You chuckle, brushing off his suspicions. “Oh, come on, enough. Believing that Kim Taehyung has any kind of interest in me is like believing that Jungkook loves me. It’s unfathomable. Taehyung's a colleague, that’s all.”

“Okay, excuse me? Unfathomable?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “Someone help! My best friend is selling themselves short, again. __, you’re amazing, and anyone, including Taehyung, would be lucky to have you. That ex-husband of yours was an idiot, but just because he couldn't see what he had doesn’t mean others can’t.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but Jimin’s words hit a soft spot. “Chim, you're sweet, but I'm just saying that Taehyung is on a completely different level. I’m just me... a 30-year-old divorcee with a half-decent startup.” Those alone are enough to have any man steer clear of you.

“Stop this, __. You're much more than that, and it's pretty damn incredible,” Jimin insists, his voice firm. “You’ve been through so much, and you’re still standing. That’s not something to brush off. Taehyung sees that. Anyone with half a brain can see that.”

You sigh, feeling a mixture of gratitude and skepticism. “I appreciate it, Chim. But let’s just drop it, please?”

“Alright, I won't push it," he concedes gently, "just know I’m here whenever you need.”

“Thanks, Jimin,” you reply, feeling a warmth in your heart. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably explode from all that bottled-up stress,” he jokes, making you laugh again. “But seriously, you’re doing great. Just keep taking it one step at a time, and call me if you need anything!”

As the call ends, you’re left with a lot to think about. Jimin’s words echo in your mind, and for a brief second, you find yourself wondering if maybe your best friend is right—that perhaps you do care about your colleague more than you’re willing to admit.

Well, either way, it doesn't matter; you've got enough on your plate as it is.

Starting with the stack of papers laid out on the coffee table, work you brought home that's awaiting your attention. It's a critical deal for your startup, one that could secure much-needed funding and propel your business to the next level.

Sighing softly, you reach for your laptop and open the latest project proposal.

You start your Sunday as you always do, with a book in hand, heading to your favorite café. It’s a ritual that’s been with you since your teenage years, and today, you feel a desperate need for its familiar comfort. After wrapping up the project proposal late into the night, your brain craved a break.

Entering the quaint café, you’re greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Finding a cozy spot by the large window, you settle in for a day of reading, occasionally looking up to observe people passing by outside.

Hours slip away unnoticed in the serene atmosphere, lost in the pages of your book. Somewhere along the way, mid-sentence, your thoughts subconsciously drift to a conversation with Taehyung weeks before his accident—the day of your six-month anniversary.

You remember how he mentioned his interest in books that day, leaving you curious about what he enjoys reading. You imagine he might be into classic authors like Charles Dickens or Oscar Wilde. Then again, you might be mistaken.

Refocusing on your book, you manage to read another paragraph before thoughts of Taehyung intrude again. Did he have any company today? You quietly hope Namjoon paid him a visit. "Okay, __, calm down," you tell yourself, "Taehyung will be fine, and Namjoon definitely would have visited him now that he's awake." With a determined effort, you return to your book.

It isn't until the sun begins its descent that you decide it's time to pack up your things and head home. Passing by the hospital on your way, a sense of restlessness tugs at you once more. Should you stop and see Taehyung, even if only for a few minutes? The thought lingers, but then you recall Dr. Min's pending update on his discharge status. Maybe it's best to wait for his confirmation.

You continue driving, but the concern refuses to leave your mind. Eventually, you make a decisive turn, heading back towards the hospital. It wouldn't be as lengthy as last time—just a quick visit to check on how he's doing.

When you arrive at the hospital, you hesitate for a moment outside the entrance. It's Sunday evening, and visiting hours are likely limited. You check your phone quickly to see if Dr. Min has sent any updates, but there's nothing new.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to go in anyway.

Taehyung is awake when the nurse leads you to his room, casually flipping through a magazine. He looks up, his expression softening into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hey," you say softly, stepping inside. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. I hope it's okay."

"It's more than okay," he replies warmly, setting the magazine aside. "I'm happy to see you."

You nod, feeling relieved that he isn't disturbed by your presence.

"Though, in all honesty," he continues, "I didn't expect you back today."

"I just wanted to check on you and make sure you're okay," you admit quietly, taking a seat nearby. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm better, just a bit sore still," he says sincerely, his gaze meeting yours. "What about you? How's your Sunday been?"

"Quiet," you respond with a small smile. "Spent most of it reading at a café, and then decided to stop by here."

"Really?" His interest piqued, he asks, "Which one? Sometimes I do the same thing when I have some free time. Or, I'll read at the beach too. It's relaxing."

"Well, have you tried the one on Willow Street? I've been a regular there since I was 16."

"No... I'm not familiar with that one," he admits, "I usually go to the one on 5th."

"5th? You know, I don't recall a café on 5th, unless..." you pause, realization dawning, "oh no," you blurt out unintentionally.

"What?" Taehyung's eyes twinkle with amusement at your spontaneous reaction. "Have you been?"

You hesitate to answer, not wanting to risk offending him.

"Yes..."

"And?" Crap, you were hoping he wouldn't ask for details.

"Um... it's okay," you reply simply.

"What? Just okay?" Taehyung exclaims, feigning offense. "Their coffee and tea are decent, and they have those comfy armchairs by the window."

"I know, but there's just something about it," you reply with a playful shrug. "Maybe it's the lighting, or maybe I'm just picky."

"Fair enough," he chuckles. "Maybe I'll check out this Willow Street café sometime. You've been going there for years, so it must be good."

"Well, I highly recommend it." You can't help but feel a bit smug, though you try to keep a straight face. It's just nice to have someone take your suggestion seriously. "You'll have to tell me your review of the place if you go."

Taehyung nods thoughtfully in reply, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of admiration. You look away, pretending to straighten your jacket. Why is he staring like that? You're not used to being looked at without some sense of hostility.

Just as you begin to feel a bit awkward, the door swings open, and a nurse peeks inside.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says kindly, "but visiting hours are over for the evening."

You glance at your watch, surprised at how quickly time has flown. "Oh, okay," you reply, a touch disappointed. "I'll be heading out then, thank you."

Once the nurse leaves, you direct your focus back to Taehyung. He smiles understandingly, sitting up a bit straighter. "Thanks for stopping by," he says warmly.

"Yeah, of course," you reply, gathering your things. "Did Dr. Min mention having you discharged any time soon?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing yet. Might be here for a couple more days."

You nod, feeling sympathy for his extended stay. "Well, take care of yourself, okay? Let me know if you need anything."

"I will," Taehyung assures you with a grateful smile. He watches as you make your way to the door, but just before you can twist the metal knob, he speaks up agian. "Uhm...if you have time tomorrow, I wouldn't mind if you came in again. It was nice to...chat."

For the first time, Taehyung seems to stumble over his words. As someone who's naturally charismatic, not to mention a skilled actor, there's a hint of nervousness in his voice.

When you turn your head to glance back at him, his smile has faded, replaced by a hopeful look, hands gently clutching the blankets.

"Sure," you agree to his innocent request, somehow unable to resist. "I'll try to stop in tomorrow if I can."

His boxy smile returns instantly as he bids you one final goodnight.

As you walk out of the room, that same smile lingers in your mind—you're glad you decided to come by.

In the days that follow, you find yourself at Taehyung's hospital bed every evening after work. Initially fulfilling his wishes, you gradually realize you've grown fond of his company. Taehyung turns out to be easy to talk to, a good listener who encourages questions you wouldn't normally ask within office walls. Here you are again, immersed in yet another spontaneous conversation that neither of you minds.

"So, what's it really like?" you inquire, curiosity lacing your voice. "Being an actor? And what about kissing strangers? I've heard some co-stars end up together after playing an onscreen couple for so long."

Taehyung chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Being an actor is both exhilarating and challenging," he begins, reflecting on his experiences. "Kissing scenes... well, they're not as glamorous as they seem on screen. There are a lot of technical aspects to consider, like camera angles and timing. As for getting involved with co-stars outside of filming, I wouldn't be familiar with that. I prefer to keep those lines pretty separate."

You listen intently, fascinated by his insights into a world so different from your own. But one thing sticks out to you—how does he handle kissing scenes if he were to be in a relationship? Wouldn't that get complicated?

"I often wonder what I'd do if I had a partner," Taehyung muses suddenly, his voice thoughtful, as if sensing your unspoken question. "About the kiss scenes, I mean. I haven't actually dated for a while." Really? You think, he cant be serious...

"I'd imagine they'd be understanding since it's part of the job," you offer, trying to match his contemplative tone.

"Is that how you'd respond?" Taehyung's question catches you off guard.

"Me?" you ask, feeling slightly dumbfounded.

"Yeah, I'm just curious. Would you be okay with that?"

"Uhm... well, honestly, probably not," you admit, feeling a bit awkward. "I think I'd have a hard time wrapping my mind around it. I'd kind of feel like I was sharing my partner. I don't want to share like that."

Shut up, shut up, shut up, you mentally chastise yourself. You definitely said too much.

To your surprise, Taehyung merely gives a small smile in response. "I think I'd feel the same," he says softly.

The subject ends there, as the conversation soon shifts to his latest project instead—a romantic comedy series titled with a playful nod to a four-leaf clover.

"You know, I've never seen a four-leaf clover in my life," you admit with a slight chuckle.

Taehyung laughs softly, his eyes brightening. "Really? They're supposed to bring good luck, you know."

"Good luck, huh? I guess I've never had the pleasure," you replied with a grin.

"Well, then it's settled," he declared with a playful glint in his eyes. "I'll find one for you once I'm out of here," he promises warmly.

You smile, exchanging a silent moment before hitting him with your next question. "Do you watch your own shows or movies?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Taehyung's expression shifts subtly, his gaze momentarily distant. "Honestly, I don't," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "I guess I've always felt a bit awkward seeing myself on screen. It's strange, right?"

You reassure him with a smile. "It's not so far-fetched, but I don't think there's anything to be embarrassed about. You're talented, Taehyung. I'm sure your performances are amazing."

Taehyung nods thoughtfully but then quirks an eyebrow at you. "But have you actually seen any of my work? It's a little cheesy."

You hesitate, feeling a touch sheepish. "Honestly, no," you confess. "I've never watched any of your shows or movies. But I will!"

A flicker of déjà vu crosses Taehyung's face, his expression turning thoughtful. "That's funny," he murmurs. "I feel like I've heard those exact words before, recently."

You chuckle nervously, trying to lighten the mood. He can't be referring to that night you spoke to him while he was asleep, right? "Maybe it's just a sign that I need to catch up on all the great acting I've been missing out on," you quip, hoping to diffuse any awkwardness.

Taehyung grins, his playful demeanor returning. "Well, I'll hold you to that. You'll have to give me your honest review."

"Deal," you agree with a nod. "So, as much as I hate to cut this short, I think I'm going to have to get going now."

"I understand, it's past 6:30 pm. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," you reply warmly. "Get some rest."

By Thursday afternoon, you finally receive the long-awaited call from Dr. Min, informing you that Taehyung will be discharged the next morning. You're relieved that Taehyung is healthy enough to continue his recovery at home. Seeing him yesterday, he looked the best he's been since his accident. However, a small part of you feels annoyed that Dr. Min didn't call you—he called Namjoon instead.

It was an ordinary afternoon when your secretary's phone rang. Namjoon was crouched over at his desk, concentrating on a number of spreadsheets just moments before. You remember leaping over to him as soon as you heard the words, "he's ready for discharge tomorrow," leave his lips.

It's now Friday morning, and you're standing in front of your secretary's desk.

"So, you're off to pick up Taehyung now?" you ask, as casually as you can. You do your best to ignore the lingering irritation growing inside you.

"Yeah," your secretary finally replies, glancing up from his screen. "I'll drive over to the hospital in about half an hour."

"Okay." You nod, biting your tongue. So what if Namjoon gets to pick him up instead of you? It's fine, you should get over it.

It's just a little odd that Dr. Min chose to call Namjoon instead of you though. You know for a fact you've been much more involved with Taehyung's well-being than he has.

Of course, Taehyung and Namjoon are good friends, but your secretary has only gone to see him twice over the past week his buddy's been in the hospital. You've been there every day, so wouldn't it make sense that you be called first?

Evidently not.

Namjoon will be taking Taehyung home, and you likely won't be seeing him at all today. In fact, you're not even sure when you'll see him next. Technically, you have his address stored away in an HR file, but you're no creep. And you most certainly are not about to show up at his place unannounced.

It's not like Taehyung has texted you today either. Not even a quick update on his condition.

"Um..." Namjoon starts, shifting awkwardly in his chair. "Is there something else you wanted to say? I feel like you're kinda hovering over me now, to be quite honest."

"Oh, sorry," you respond, stepping back a bit. You didn't realize you were staring at him, wordless, for longer than normal. "Nothing else. Drive safe."

As if seeing right through you, Namjoon's expression softens. "If you want to see how Taehyung is, you can just text him. I'm sure he'll respond to you."

"No, it's okay," you quickly dismiss the suggestion. You don't want to bombard a man who's just getting out of the hospital with your texts. You'll leave him alone to rest.

Namjoon gives you a knowing look, eyeing your slightly hesitant state. "I'm serious, boss. Text him. You've been at his side this entire week, so if there's anyone who'd be more deserving of knowing what's up, it’d be you."

Deserving? That's a bit far, is it not? Yes, you've been visiting him, but it's not like you saved his life or anything. It's not that big of a deal. You just wanted to...make sure he was okay.

"I—When did you decide to call me boss again?" you switch subjects, but Namjoon remains unaffected.

"Text him," Namjoon says for the final time before reaching for his keys in his desk drawer. "I gotta get going, but I'll be back after I drop Tae off."

"Tae?" You haven't heard him called that before.

"Yeah, it's kinda a pet name. Sorry, I started calling him that once we became friends, so it slips out here and there. It's like second nature now."

"Got it," you nod, a bit disappointed. Maybe you weren't as close to Taehyung as you thought. "Make sure he gets home okay," you finish.

"I will." Namjoon gets up from his desk and heads out of the office. You turn around and return to your own office once he's out of sight.

While Namjoon is out, his phone rings incessantly. You find yourself getting up from your desk multiple times to take calls. By the afternoon, you're exhausted from the constant interruptions.

Maybe you should consider giving the poor man a raise.

Before the thought fully develops, his phone rings again. You don't even bother checking the caller ID anymore; you simply pick up the phone and answer in your sweetest voice.

"__? I thought I’d be hearing Namjoon first... hey," his voice is hesitant. "I hope I’m not interrupting anything."

"Jungkook," you reply cautiously, instantly recognizing his voice. "Why are you calling my work phone?"

"I... I didn't know how else to reach you. Can I come in or can you come into the parking lot? I have something to give you."

You pause, feeling a rush of unease. You haven’t spoken to Jungkook since last Friday when he called you out of the blue. Honestly, you hoped you wouldn’t hear from him, especially after telling him not to call again. It's strange that he keeps finding ways to show up unexpectedly.

"What is it you need to give me, Jungkook?" you ask bluntly, "I'm very busy."

There’s a brief silence on the other end before he answers, "It’s... It’s something personal. I’d rather not discuss it over the phone. Please, can you just come down for a moment?"

You weigh your options, torn between curiosity and apprehension. His unpredictability lately has left you unsure of what to expect. "Jungkook, I really don’t think—"

"Please," he interrupts, his voice sounding more urgent. "I promise it won’t take long."

Taking a deep breath, you decide to handle this with as much grace as you can muster. "Fine. I’ll be down in a minute."

You end the call and sit back, trying to steady your thoughts. His sudden request feels odd, and part of you worries about what he might say or do next. As you make your way to the parking lot, you mentally prepare yourself for another potentially difficult encounter.

When you arrive, Jungkook stands near his car, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His usual confident demeanor seems replaced by a sense of unease.

"Hey," he starts, his voice tentative, "thanks for agreeing to meet."

You give a brief nod, keeping your tone neutral. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

Jungkook shifts awkwardly, his gaze dropping momentarily before meeting yours. "I wanted to apologize," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for calling you up drunk."

You feel a flicker of irritation. This is what he wanted to give you? An apology that's seven days late? You figured he would have just forgone the apology by now.

"Why now?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, a defense mechanism you've developed. "It's been a week. I’m not sure if you realize that or not though."

"I know," he says quickly, his eyes earnest. "I wanted to come sooner, but I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me or just never hear from me again."

You scoff slightly, "Well, for the first time, you are completely right. I don't want to see you, Jungkook." You try to keep your voice steady, but the raw edges of your emotions bleed through. There’s no point sugarcoating it at this stage; he’ll just keep pushing your boundaries if you don’t become firm with him.

He winces at your words, nodding slowly. "You have every right to feel that way. I messed up, big time. I just wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry. You deserve someone who isn't as screwed up as I am. But I still mean everything I said that night. I do love you. It took me until now to realize that, apparently."

You sigh, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Love? Now? After everything? Somehow, it feels more like a burden than anything.

"Jungkook, love isn't a get-out-of-jail-free card," you say slowly, your voice somewhat shaky. "It's not something you can just throw out there to fix things. Not only did you divorce me, but you also led me to believe we could actually be something. All those weeks of you being attentive and showing up for me after I shared my feelings made me believe that you were honestly trying to make our marriage work, that you were committed. You lied to me, discarded me, and now that I'm not around, you suddenly miss me? No, I'm sorry. You broke my trust, and that's not something you can just apologize away."

You pause, feeling the weight of your words settle in the tense air between you and Jungkook.

He looks down, nodding again. "I get it. I really do. And I don't expect you to forgive me or anything. I just wanted you to know that I understand how much I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I understand if you hate me."

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions threatening to stir inside. "Jungkook," you begin carefully, meeting his eyes. "What happened between us was painful. You calling me drunk last week was also painful. I'm sorry about the challenges you had with your parents, but it's no excuse to put that on others. If you need someone to discuss personal matters with, I suggest you see a professional."

You pause, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"I don't hate you, okay? I'm not that cold-hearted. There's still part of me that I think might always hold space for you, but I can't just forget everything. I need to move on, and that means you can't keep calling me at random times. It’s not fair to either of us. I appreciate the apology, but I don't think we can go much further."

He nods solemnly, understanding your stance. "Okay," Jungkook replies softly, his voice filled with a sadness you hadn’t expected. "I understand. I'll respect your wishes and leave you alone. Take care of yourself, okay? I...I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me," he says, his eyes earnest. "And... I'm really sorry for everything."

He begins to back away toward his car, and as he does, it hits you—it’s over.

"Take care, Jungkook," you say gently. "Don't overwork yourself, alright? Stay healthy."

He looks at you, forcing a smile. "You know I can't do that. It isn't in my blood." He sings the last part, referencing a song you both used to joke about, and you let out a small chuckle despite yourself.

"God, Jeon, I thought you'd stop with that song by now." you say, shaking your head.

"Nah," he replies, shaking his head with a faint grin as he opens his car door. "I'm taking it to my grave. I'll see you later, __."

You know the last part is a lie, an empty promise to soften the blow. Still, you respond, "Yeah, see you."

With that, you part ways in the parking lot, each going your separate ways. As you walk back to your office, the weight of the finality settles in. It's all over, you think, feeling the sting of a single tear trailing down your cheek. Unbeknownst to you, a similar tear streams down Jungkook's face as he drives away, each tear falling for completely different reasons.

Two weeks pass, and Jungkook keeps his word. He hasn’t called, texted, or shown up at your work. It’s as if he’s become a stranger, someone you once knew but is now part of a distant past.

Your days begin to regain a sense of normalcy. The emotional weight of the past few months slowly starts to lift, allowing you to refocus on your work and personal well-being. The company demands your attention, and you dive into projects, meetings, and strategies with a renewed energy.

Yet, despite the return to routine, there's a persistent sense of something missing. You haven’t talked to Taehyung at all since he got discharged from the hospital. You haven’t seen him either, and the silence pulls at you more each day.

Every time you try to get information about him from Namjoon, he gives you the same response: "Just text him. Don’t overthink it; he’ll be glad to hear from you." Once, you sensed that Namjoon wanted to say more but stopped himself short, making the excuse that it wasn’t for him to say. Whatever that meant.

You’re on your way home from running errands when the thought enters your mind for the umpteenth time: should you text Taehyung?

You’re torn between respecting his privacy and wanting to check in on him. He hasn’t reached out, so maybe he’s trying to distance himself or just needs time to recover alone, now that he’s in the comfort of his own home. On the other hand, you can’t shake the feeling that checking in would be the right thing to do.

As you approach your apartment building, you pull over into a quiet parking spot, letting your car idle. Gripping your phone, you take a deep breath and finally decide to text him.

You: Hey, Taehyung. I hope you’re doing well. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling. Let me know if you need anything. We still miss you at the office!

You stare at the message for a moment before hitting send. The butterflies in your stomach flutter as you wait. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he doesn't want to hear from you?

You end up deleting the message entirely.

Forget it, you think, if he wanted to hear from you he would have texted by now, right? Just leave it alone. You said you'd support him while he was in the hospital and you did. Now he needs his space to finish healing. He'll reach out when he's ready.

Your phone buzzes the next minute, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glance at it, half hoping that Taehyung was secretly telepathic. But it isn’t from him. Instead, it’s a notification from a friend inviting you to a small get-together this coming weekend.

Smiling, you accept the invitation.

Turns out your friend's get-together was a singles mixer. Unsurprisingly, you weren't approached much, if at all. It seemed the men were either too nervous, still associating you with your ex-husband, or not quite into accomplished women. That didn't stop them from ogling you, though, as your friend insisted that you dress for the affair. You didn't choose anything flashy, but it was certainly flattering.

Leaving without a phone number didn't bother you, though. At thirty years old, most of the people were younger than you, including your friend who was a couple of years younger. Plus, you found your mind often wandering to the one man you hadn't heard from in nearly three weeks—Kim Taehyung. Should you stop overthinking and finally listen to Namjoon's suggestion? Maybe it's time to contact him.

Lost in thought on your drive home, you snap back to reality when you slam on the brakes at a sudden red light. Damn, you hadn't noticed it change so quickly. Shaking off any lingering daze, you refocus and spot a man crossing the street ahead, a little dog trotting beside him on a leash.

"Taehyung," you whisper to yourself. "What is he doing out here, especially on this slipper—shit!"

Your heart skips a beat as Taehyung stumbles on the ice, struggling to keep his balance. Concerned, you pull up to the side of the road as soon as the light turns green, parking quickly and jumping out of your car to rush over to him. He leans against a brick building, his dog, Tan, yelping at your approach. Cute little guy, but you're focus is on Taehyung.

"Damn," he mutters, trying to steady himself. His eyes widen when he catches sight of you. "__, I—" he begins.

"What are you doing, Kim Taehyung?" you scold gently. "Are you trying to hurt yourself again?"

Taehyung meets your gaze, his Gucci scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. "No," he replies earnestly. "I just needed some fresh air. It's been nearly three weeks since I was discharged, and Dr. Min said short walks with Tan are okay now. My parents were here for a while, but they left this weekend."

His explanation sinks in as you take in his appearance. Despite the chill in the air, he looks better than the last time you saw him. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the cold, and there's a determination in his eyes that wasn't there before.

"You should be more careful," you reply softly, stepping closer to him. Tan, sensing the shift in attention, continues to bark happily, tail wagging. "Are you okay? My car is right here, if you need me to take you home or anything."

Taehyung nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I know, I know. Sorry for worrying you." He gestures to Tan, who is now circling around your legs in excitement. "Tan here doesn't seem to mind the ice at all, and surprisingly, he doesn't mind you either."

You chuckle softly, crouching down to pet the little dog. "Is he usually this friendly?"

"Not at first, no," Taehyung replies, his tone lighter now. He glances down at you, his eyes softening. "I'm glad I ran into you, though. It's been...a while."

You nod, standing to your feet. "It has. I'm glad to see you're doing better."

"I am," he affirms, his gaze steady on yours. "Thanks to you, mostly. You were there for me when I needed it the most."

"Oh, come on," you say, waving off the comment. "I didn't do that much."

Taehyung's smile widens, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You did more than you realize."

You feel a slight blush creeping up your cheeks at his words, but you maintain eye contact, appreciating the warmth in his gaze. The longer you stand there, staring at each other, the uneasier you feel. Perhaps you shouldn't ask the question that's been on your mind, but it slips out before you can stop it.

"Why didn't you call?" you ask, surprising both yourself and Taehyung as he simultaneously voices the exact same question.

Taken aback by the simultaneous question, you both chuckle nervously, breaking the tension. Taehyung scratches the back of his neck, sheepish.

"I thought about it every day," he admits, his voice quiet but sincere. "But I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear from me. I already took so much of your time, and I didn't want to ask more from you. So, I asked Namjoon to pick me up from the hospital. I thought maybe it would be better for me to wait for you to reach out and focus on recovering."

You nod, understanding flooding your expression. "I felt quite similar. I thought maybe you asked Namjoon because he's your friend. I didn't want to hound you when you just got released from the hospital, so I decided to let you recover in peace. I guess in the end, I was also waiting for you to reach out with an update of some kind."

Taehyung takes a few seconds to fully absorb your words before replying. "I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes reflecting genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I was avoiding you. I would have been more than happy with you picking me up instead of Namjoon. I realize that I should have at least reached out to update you instead of going silent. I'd like to think of you as my friend too. But I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and I just didn't want to burden you." His gaze becomes downcast as he stares at the ground beneath him.

You're unsure where you find the courage, but you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, gently lifting his face so he meets your eyes. You have to stand on your tiptoes a bit, which he finds endearing.

"I’d like to consider you my friend too, and that means you shouldn't worry about burdening me anymore, Tae," you say softly, your touch lingering momentarily on his face, caught up in the moment. When you realize what you've done, you pull back slightly, flustered. "Um… sorry, I didn't mean to call you that."

"It's okay," he responds, his voice gentle. "I don't mind. You can call me Tae from now on if you'd like. Also, you're not a burden either, you never were to me."

You're speechless for a second before replying. "So, friends then?" you ask. "No more mixed signals and reaching out when we want?"

"I mean, I’d like that as long as you do too," he confirms with a warm smile, though his eyes say there's more that he's left unsaid. You don't notice, however.

"Text me whenever you have something on your mind," he continues.

"I will," you promise. “You too.”

"Definitely.” Taehyung pauses, glancing down at Tan who's decided to lay down by his feet. "So, I was going to take a walk with Tan at the park nearby. Any chance you'd like to join me?" His gaze shifts back to you, hopeful yet uncertain.

"I'd like that," you reply genuinely. "But we're taking my car over, so you don't break a hip on this ice, old man."

Taehyung's mouth gapes open as he shakes his head. "How many times do I need to tell you? I'm only two years older than you. Two!"

It's surreal.

How much you and Taehyung have started becoming friends, that is.

Almost two months have already passed, and it feels like just yesterday you were merely colleagues, you his boss.

Saturdays have become your day with Taehyung now. While part of you insists it's to prevent him from slipping on the ice again, deep down, you both know there's more to it now that he's almost fully recovered from his injuries.

Each weekend, you find yourselves exploring different parks and streets, swapping childhood stories, and sharing laughter over the dumbest things. Today, however, would be different. With rain threatening to drench the city, Taehyung suggested a change of plans—a cozy movie day indoors. Little did he know, you had a surprise in store for him.

You dash up to the front door, a bag of homemade food in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

Taehyung opens the door with a grin, holding his own umbrella. "Hey! Perfect timing," he chuckles, taking the umbrella from you and gesturing inside. "Come in. It's freezing out there today."

You step inside, shaking off the raindrops and removing your shoes. The warmth of his home envelopes you, a comforting contrast to the chilly rain outside.

"I brought something," you announce, holding up the bag. "Guess what it is?"

Taehyung looks at you curiously, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. "Hmm," he muses, pretending to ponder. "Knowing you, it's probably my favorite spicy chicken wings from that place near your office."

"Very close, Tae. Except these chicken wings were made by your favorite person in the whole world," you tease, handing him the bag with a grin.

Taehyung's eyes lit up as he takes the bag from you. "No way," he says, a mix of disbelief and excitement in his voice. "You made them yourself? You're the best, __. Seriously."

"It's the least I could do," you reply with a smile, following him into the living room where the TV flickers. "Besides, it's pouring out there. Movie day with good food seems like the perfect plan."

"Absolutely," he agrees, setting the food down on the coffee table. "I was thinking we could start with that new action flick I heard about."

"Aww, but I thought you said we could watch one of your movies instead?" you argue playfully, sinking into the couch. Tan bounds over, wagging his tail in excitement at the prospect of company. You scratch behind his ears while Taehyung sets up the movie.

"What? I don't remember saying that. Was I drunk that day?" he jokes.

"Well... maybe?" you tease back.

"I told you, __, I don't like watching my own films. It's weird, and half the time it's me kissing the female lead. You're going to need to watch those on your own time," he quips, his tone more serious than intended. The truth is, he really would rather not be there when you watch him kiss his co-stars.

"Alright, alright, getting aggressive over there," you chuckle, not seeing the faint rosy tint that's crept up on his cheeks. "We'll watch the action movie."

As the opening scenes roll, you can't help but steal glances at Taehyung. Despite the seriousness of his recent health issues, he seems more at ease today, a genuine smile gracing his face as he takes a seat beside you. It feels good to see him like this, relaxed and feeling more like himself.

Halfway through the movie, he nudges you gently. "Thanks for coming over today," he says softly, his gaze warm as it meets yours. "And for the food, of course."

"You don't have to thank me," you reply sincerely, nudging him back with a smile. "I'm happy to do it."

Unexpectedly, Taehyung reaches for the TV remote, pausing the scene playing in front of you. "Hey, __," he says, turning to face you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes as they shift from side to side.

"What is it, Tae?" You feel a slight unease, sensing tension. He's once again just staring into your eyes, wordless.

"Do you..." he starts but stops short, his voice trailing off.

"Yes?" You search his face for clues as to what he's trying to say.

"Would you want to go to a party with my family?" he finally asks, his words coming out in a rush. "My parents are hosting to celebrate my recovery, but really it's just an excuse to get the family together."

"So, a family reunion?" Your voice drops slightly, a mix of surprise and...disappointment? Why had you been expecting something different?

"I mean, yes, sort of. You don't have to if you don't want to," he adds quickly, almost anxiously. "I know it might be uncomfortable for you, but you've been here for me during so much of my recovery. It would mean a lot to have you there. My parents want to meet you too."

"Um... well, I've never been to a family function before," you admit hesitantly.

"You haven't?" Taehyung looks genuinely surprised.

You shake your head. "My family's never been one to do those types of things."

"Well, consider yourself part of my family then. Come with me, __. They'll love you."

"I-I don't know about that," you say softly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face. "How can you be so sure that they'll like me?"

"Because I do," he urges gently, "and if I like you, so will they."

You're taken aback by his words, unsure how to respond. Surely he means this in a platonic way. Despite growing closer, you and Taehyung are just friends, setting aside any previous suspicions of romantic interest. Maybe if circumstances were different—if you weren't divorced—then maybe you could entertain the idea.

For now, you'll leave that side of him alone and simply be his friend. You feel a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

"Okay," you finally say, nodding your head. "I'll come. When is it?"

"They want to do it next weekend, weather permitting. We can carpool if you'd like, or you can take your own car," he offers.

"I'll think about it," you reply, trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

"Great." Taehyung flashes a boxy grin. "Thank you, I was so nervous to ask."

"Of course," you say, offering a tight-lipped smile. Taehyung unpauses the movie, and you return your attention to the TV screen. Minutes following your phone buzzes and a text message from Jimin appears on your screen.

Chim 🐥: __! Hate to be bringing this up, but have you seen the news about Jungkook? Looks like he's preparing to step down as CEO. Did you know about this?"

What? You had no clue.

a/n: If you are mad at me, well....I'm sorry but pls blame jk instead. But I am hoping you enjoyed! 🥰 vote jjk or kth

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side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[luvhaos]

lost | lty

pairing: lee taeyong x gn! reader genre: married! au, fluff word count: 408 summary: it seems your husband has misplaced something

You’re a little confused when you come home to find the door unlocked. You could have sworn that you locked in when you went to work in the morning, a fact that has your blood pumping hurriedly. You’re steeling yourself the worst — the aftermath of a break in or, more terrifying, one in progress. You grip your phone tightly, ready to dial 911 at any moment as you push the door open.

Your apartment looks like a tornado swept through. Everything is out of place, shoved to the side or moved off a shelf. And in the middle of the chaos is your husband, Taeyong, peering under the coffee table on his hands and knees. His head whips towards you so quickly that it bangs against the table and he yelps. You drop your work bag and kick your shoes off quickly, rushing over to him. “Baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a bump,” he says and his voice is quieter than usual. He looks up at you with his big, soft eyes and you see bits of sorrow and anguish in them. “How was your day?”

“It was fine but, baby, honestly I’m more concerned about you right now.” You glance around the living room and Taeyong takes the hint that you want some sort of explanation.

His shoulders slump and he’s frowning deeply, forehead creasing as silence falls between you. You tense; whatever it is Taeyong is so bothered by, it’s clear that it’s tormented him for a while. You can practically see the gears turning in his head and he finally lets out a long, sad sigh and says, “I lost my wedding ring.”

You relax and ask gently, “That’s it?”

His frown only deepens. “What do you mean, “that’s it”? It’s my wedding ring.”

“We can always buy a new one, love.”

He rests his forehead against your shoulder and you hear the absolute despair in his tone. “But it won’t be the same. That was the ring you put on my finger on the most special day of my life.”

Your heart aches and fills all at once and you press your lips to the crown of his head. “Why did you take it off anyway?”

“Cooking,” he replies. “I don’t know how I misplaced it so badly. One minute it was on the counter, the next it was gone.”

“It can’t have gone far then. Come on, I’ll help you look.”

[tomtenadia]

Milestones

Anonymous asked:

Aelin and Rowan are woken up by their toddler girl all excited telling how she "peed like a boy, like daddy"

@rowaelinprompts

I saw this and I started laughing so hard so I had to write something. It’s very short and I hope fun too.

757 words of hopefully decent rowaelin domestic fluff with their daughter.

----

MILESTONES

Rowan and Aelin had soon learned the true beauty of at least seven hours of sleep. Their daughter Maya was four and she was finally adapting to sleep throughout the night. Maya had always been a restless kids and they had spent a lot of sleepless nights. Now she was becoming a big girl and her visits to the big people bed had diminished. Her parents did not mind to have her in their bed, problem was, Maya never came alone. Depending on the night, she might take between one and three soft toy, making the bed crowded. Rowan did not mind. It had taken them so long to get their daughter that he would accept anything. She was his world together with his wife. Sleep was secondary. When the crowding got bad, he had started to pull Maya on his chest and his daughter loved to fall asleep on her father while his arms cradled her and Aelin tucked at his side. On occasion, Aelin would wrap her arm too, if she was awake enough to notice the position. That night though Maya had stayed in her bed and Rowan held his wife in his arms. He had briefly woken up and when he saw the time on his phone he cursed, pulled Aelin closer to him and tried hard to fall back in Morpheus’ arms. 

He almost managed the feat when he heard sounds coming from the bathroom. Maya had been potty trained for a very long time and knew that his daughter might get up and use the loo on her own. Nonetheless he kept his ears for any sounds that she might need help.

What he was not expecting was the sound of the pitter patter of her naked feet on the floor and the bedroom door to flung open.

“Dada, mama!” She ran and clumsily tried to climb on the bed and Rowan pulled her up.

In that instant Aelin groaned and woke up and sat beside her husband “What is it?”

“Why is the little tornado in bed with us?”

“Mama I peed like a boy. Like daddy.”

A huge toothless grin spread on her face and her green eyes shone in the faint light of the room.

“What do you mean you peed like daddy?”

“Up.”she lifted her arms in the air for emphasis. 

Rowan looked at Aelin and then both started to move. He grabbed his daughter and only then he noticed a faint smell of urine on her pyjama. 

Aelin was already in the bathroom and was laughing when he reached her.

Maya’s green potty lay beside the big toilet and around it a big puddle of pee.

Maya giggled “peed like dada. I am a big boy.”

Aelin was laughing hard. Maya had seen her cousin Aidan learning to pee like a boy once they were at Lys’ place. She had asked all of the uncomfortable question and Aelin had tried to explain her daughter about the different plumbing between girls and boys. She had then explained that her dad did it that way too.

“Yes you did, my love,” Aelin lifted her daughter in her arms “and you made a mess.” She then turned to her husband “next thing you might want to teach her to lower the toilet seat when she is done.”

Aelin went to her room and grabbed some clean clothes for the little girl while Rowan was cleaning up the mess “she just needs to get better at target practice,” he added with almost pride in his voice.

“Rowan, you boys have an appendix that should help stay on target and still miss…”

Her husband laughed hard while he stashed the mop away “Hey at least I remember to lower the seat.”

Aelin kissed him while she was changing Maya “Yes, you are a trained male. Took me a while…” then she smacked a kiss on Maya’s cheek “didn’t we Maya? We trained dada.”

“I peed up!” She exclaimed happily and they both realised that for their daughter had been a fun little adventure.

“That you did, you are a grown up girl and maybe we can start use the big potty? Like mum and dad?”

The little girl smiled happily, feeling important all of a sudden.

Rowan took her in his arms “Come, tomorrow you can tell grampa that you peed like him.”

They walked back to their room and carried Maya with them, placing the girl in-between. She was asleep very quickly and in the darkness of the night Rowan and Aelin kept giggling.

“Our little weirdo…”

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