#gotta work my way back up to my normal level of comfort and then continue trying to improve

[croc-girl-dick]

The Predator Conspiracy.

Just a vorny story explaining the predator conspiracy in my voresonas world ! Features some art too, putting everything under the cut ! Enjoy <3

CW: Oral Vore, kinda graphic digestion, bones, Hyper, gas, and a bit of disposal ! 

Hehe That's me ! Random fox for height ref their about 5"5' so as you can see. I'm Big !

Penny had of course already eaten her usual two people for breakfast on her way to work at the tube station. They were already digested, used up and left filling up a bathroom stall with what was left of them. Overflowing emencly and topped with a skull.

--

Two office workers talk in hushed tones around the water cooler, a human man and a much shorter rabbit woman about half the humans height.

"I just can't believe it, I can't believe I didn't see it sooner, its so obvious now..."

"I know, its alot to take in, but its best not to talk of it now, their are predators in the office, it could be dangerous."

The water in the cooler bubbled and rippled with the vibrations of massively heavy footsteps, as the man continued to console the rabbit. The footsteps building until the water was practically sloshing around, As Penny suddenly rounded the corner and stood just a few metres away from the pair. The giant crocodile was easily twice the man's height and her hips were almost as wide as he was tall. They both had to look almost directly up to meet her scolding gaze.

"Uhhh Mi... Miss Barnham ! We were urrm.. we were just getting back to work" stammers the human, faking a smile and gently pushing his friend the rabbit who was frozen in fear

"Aww yeah I'm sorry hun, Keith and.. Beritrice was it ?"

Then Penny bends over at the waist, putting her long crocodilian maw and thick juicy pink lips at eye level with the man.

Her enormous tits each about the size of the smaller rabbit woman bouncing down hanging in the air and dripping with sweat soaked through her thin shirt barely containing them anyway. The man couldn't help but stare.

"Yeah I heard y'all talking and, you've gotta go, hehe." Licking her lips with saliva dripping in great arks to the floor.

Before the man can react pennys jaw snaps swiftly around him, instantly engulfing him head first down to his torso, her left hand casually tucking a lose hair behind her ear, her right hand clasping onto the petrified rabbit. She elegantlty stands up suddenly straight and points her maw upwards letting the man swiftly fall into her couldren of a stomach *ulk* *UrrRrrPPpp* without closing her mouth still wide and upward she raises the rabbit and quickly drops her in, a fleeting taste of her as she plummets past pennys toung and straight down her wide open gullet *ulk*. Then penny relaxes and let's out a little contented sigh "ahhh there we are, problem solved hehehe."

Penny moves on, not at all slowed or hinderd by her new passengers last screams or melting flesh as they quickly suffocated.

She sees a few more of her colleagues, foxes, haveing a chat and saunters over. Farting long and loud as she walks as the pair get to digesting in her sloshing stomach. Barely aware of the gas escaping her ass with each step and yet receiving great pleasure from it.

Needless to say, these coworkers were aware of her noisy approach and greeted her warmly, not knowing she had just killed two people, and politely ignoring her constant flatulence and her obviously hard cock leaking pre down her leg.

"Oh the new girl Beritrice? I haven't seen her hehehehe, she must not have been comfortable here at the office hehehe"

Penny grabs her fat stomach jiggling it enjoy the two people churning and melting into one big boney slop in her stomach *UrrRrrPPpp* and as quick as that with the release of gas and splattering her colliges with siliva, she's not full anymore and feels a twang of hunger shoot from her stomach. "Oops parden me hehe, I'm just soooo hungry hehe its past my lunch !"

So cemented in their brians the idea that predators are just normal people and pose no threat at all, through a lifetime of indoctrination that they can't see the obvious shapes of bodies and bones literally right infront of them, subconsiously refusing to believe it. But that only goes so far...

They chat about work for a little while longer when penny suddenly interrupts.

*BuUrRrrPp* so loud and powerful it sends nearby papers flying. "Ooh, that was another big one hehehe !" She jokes before she realises thier stunned silence, the three foxes are all staring at pile of siliva drenched bones, complete with a freshly bleached rabbit skull, obviously Beatrice.

"Y..you ate her ??!" Stammers one of them.

Penny licked her lips greedily in response

"Mmmm and now I have to eat you three aswell !" *Mwaahh* springing forwards jaw wide in a flash siliva splattering about !

*Gu-Gulp* "oh Penny five people just for lunch you spoil yourself ! But i had to ! Hehe I'm gonna get so fat with all you guys hanging off my body hehe !" She happily swings her buldgeing stomach with the three fresher people above and the well stewed bones below *Uurrp* hehe.

"but I really shouldn't miss actual lunch that's unhealthy, Ill just grab something small from the cafetiera." *GROOWWWLL* ... okay okay ! Ill have alot hehe. She almost skips over to the lifts, but being so huge and extra heavy she barly leaves the floor and shakes the whole office.

Leving the bones and acouple of the foxes clothes in a siliva drenched mess. No prey is smart enough to put together what happened, and an office janitor will be along to tiny up in no time.

--

The blindness of prey society allows even a clutzy bimbo like Penny to maintain the conspiracy. Helped of course by anyone in any position of power being a pred too.

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || PROUD

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors, swearing and mentions of injuries, blood and death.

| form : imagine

| word count : 1574

| published : 18 november

| request : Aaaa,, I really love your Sukuna imagines! Can I request an Imagine where it’s related to ‘kind hearted’, the reader gets hurt and sukuna gets upset? Thank you so much! Keep up with the great work!! 💞🦦

| barista’s notes : let me admit this, i’m not confident with this imagine ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ i tried changing it a few times but i was really doubting myself every time and this was the result of it, so i’m so sorry if you don’t like it ʕ； •`ᴥ•´ʔ also i’m not really good with fight scenes so if there are any advices that can be given to me, thank you so much ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ i hope you love your classic cup of black coffee and come again soon!

To say that you were screwed was more than an understatement. 

Right now wasn’t the ideal situation to be in for any jujutsu sorcerer that wasn’t Gojo’s level.

At this moment and time, standing in front of you was a special grade curse.

What made the situation worse was that Kugisaki was separated from the whole group making the mission more complicated than it needed to be.

“Itadori! Fushiguro! Go find Kugisaki and find the exit to the building, I’ll keep the curse in place!” you demanded, as you knew you didn’t have much time to explain the risky plan you came up with.

“Are you crazy? It’s a special grade there is no way you could defeat it right now!” Fushiguro shouted, trying to know what was going on in your head, thinking that you were utterly crazy for what you just stated to him and his classmate.

“I don’t care! Look, it’s having fun and underestimating us meaning it will use weaker attacks on me, buying time shouldn’t be too hard, just give me a signal when you and Itadori are safe, okay?”

Looking at you with widen eyes, Fushiguro continued to look at you like you had gone completely insane before closing them to clear his mind. What you were saying had much sense in it. Compared to the remaining people in the room, you were the one that had the most potential to defeat the special grade curse if you could, even when you and him were both grade two sorcerers. 

“Okay,” Fushiguro muttered quietly - still reluctant to leave you - before turning around and grabbing Itadori to go along with your plan, leaving you completely alone to defend yourself.

Turning back around to look at your opponent, you reached to the side of your hip to grip on the halt of your katana before slowly pulling the sword out from its sheath. From what you could observe, this special grade wasn’t a normal special grade, there was no way it could be deemed one yet it was. From what was going on around you, the curse hadn’t been able to construct a complete Domain Expansion, more of an Innate Domain at best making you come to the conclusion that it must have eaten a cursed object at best to become as powerful as it is - most likely Sukuna’s finger for one example.

Lifting your sword in front of you, you aimed the pointed tip at your opponent before tilting your head to the side to see what else you could observe from your distance.

“Would cutting your head off look best or would cutting both of your arms first be more sufficient?”

Of course, the curse couldn’t reply to you leaving it to only physically answered you with an immense amount of curse energy forming within the palm of its hand, ready to throw it at you.

“Looks like your arms are the first thing I gotta get rid of,” you answered yourself, as you quickly dodging the attack, only to suddenly appear in front of your opponent, leaving yourself enough space to swing your sword down to fully slash its left arm off as you then went ahead and spun behind its body to slice off the other off before pulling yourself back to gain some distance away from the curse.

However, what you had completely forgotten was that special grade curses were able their curse energy to heal themselves, as the curse’s arms suddenly regenerated as if you didn’t cut them off seconds before.

“Damn, I should have gotten your head first ha?” you rhetorically questioned, before using your free hand to pull a long black chain out of your pocket and attaching one end to the hilt of your katana. “Let’s see how fast you can catch,” you commented, as you then threw your katana while aiming for it’s head, using your curse energy to increase the speed it was going at. However, much to your dismay the curse unexpectantly grabbed onto the metal blade, leaving you no choice but to let your curse energy slowly flow through the chain all the way up to the blade causing a large red orb form at the end, quickly exploding before the curse could even react to stop it.

Swiftly, you pulled the chain back so you could retrieve your sword only to then suddenly see the smoke clearing and a large wave of curse energy coming towards your direction.

“Shit!”

In sheer panic, you use your feet to push yourself to the right to move away from the blast before your whole vision was concealed by the rubble and dust. 

Pain. That was all you felt. Pure pain. 

Were you going to die? Wasn’t you expecting that once you told both your classmates to find Kugisaki and run? You couldn’t lie to yourself, it was too painful to think about death right now. You couldn’t think straight at all.

Once the smoked cleared, all that the special curse could see was your standing figure panting heavily with your left sleeve completely gone due to the blast as blood gushed down your left arm. You had barely managed to get yourself out of the hands of instant death and luckily nothing of your body was disintegrated, just some burns and cuts here and there - to say it was surprising to see you standing was an understatement.

“From our battle so far, you lack the form of curse technique, but you still can pack a punch, ah it hurts,”

The blood loss was getting to you. Yes, having no limbs was not the better option but you could still live with that. What humans couldn’t do was stay alive with no blood and here you were quickly losing your live source the flowed in your body. You couldn’t even cover the wound as there was nothing you could cover it with and even if you did, the wound was too large to be covered. 

You were losing the strength to stand.

You were losing your balance.

You were losing consciousness.

Suddenly, you heard a loud sound of a howl from a distance. Instantly, you knew that Fushiguro and Itadori were able to find Kugisaki and get out. It was his signal. 

However, you weren’t so lucky in that factor, from the state that you were in, there was no way in hell you were able to escape now - but you were okay with that. If the other’s were safe, that was better than not knowing if they made it out alive. Slowly, you were starting to lose the feeling in your legs, causing you to completely losing your balance.

‘Damn,’ you thought, as you felt your whole body suddenly dropping leaving you no strength left to even brace for the impact, leaving you to close your eyes and admitting defeat.

However, just as you were able to fall to the ground, you suddenly felt a pair of arms catching you before you were quickly lifted up bridal style and pulled into a warm embrace surprising you completely from the sudden comfort of what you thought was your lonely end. Who was still in the building? You thought everyone got out, so who was carrying you right now?

From your limited sight, you could slowly make out someone in a dark uniform similar to the colour you wore, meaning it had to be someone from the team. However, the extreme pressure of curse energy that was somewhat suffocating you determined otherwise - no one within the area right now had this much power, no one at all. Unless…..

“Were you the one that caused this?”

Sukuna…

All you could hear right now a shaking tone as well as the couple droplets of water that was within the Innate Domain that surrounded you.

“For a grade two sorcerer, she really blew half of your body up with that little curse technique she used on you, I’m quite proud of my little one,” Sukuna uncharacteristically complimented you, as he gently pressed a little kiss on top of your head before gently smiling at you - knowing you won’t be able to see this rare expression on his face.

“You see, I’ve grown fond of this little human in my arms right now, and for you to do this much damage to her body, really weirdly angers me,” Sukuna stated before he turned around and began to walk away. “Wait there for a quick second would you? I need to take care of this one right now,” Sukuna commented, before gently placing you down at a safe spot to which he then started to use his curse energy to quickly heal your wound once he sat you up straight. 

Brushing away some of the hairs that were in your face, Sukuna placed one last light lingering kiss on your forehead before saying, “I’m proud of you, just wait a little longer, I’ll be back,”.

What was going on?

This had to be a hallucination. There was no question about that. There was no way Sukuna could have saved you let alone kissed you in any way. This was all a hallucination. Wasn’t it?

However, you didn’t have the power to stay awake any longer, resulting you to surrender to the tiredness that was taking over you, letting the darkness invade your whole surroundings, but not before letting out a little mutter under your breath.

‘Proud ha?’

[whirlybirbs]

          (   this chapter’s gif by @august-walker​ from this beautiful set !   )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  4/?

summary: you formulate a plan, meet steve rogers, and bucky goes on a date.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 6.8k, mother of pearl

a/n: this ended up being mostly a filler with a lot of romantic growth - i had to break this chapter up from the unce unce unce clubbing that coming up, so please enjoy! 

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MOSCOW, 1975.

In all the years that James Buchanan Barnes has had a heartbeat, he’d come to know the sounds of grief well.

War taught him a lot of things — that they were all just little boys playing with guns, and that no matter how many times you thought you’d be ready for the vomit-inducing pungency of violence, you never were. In the end, you’d do anything to save yourself; you’d crawl through the thick of death and debris a million times over if only to cling to the shredded tatters of your own humanity.

You would kill someone else’s son for the sake of your own mother.

War was disease that devoured every part of you — it was gunpowder snuff and carved flesh. That sickness — inky and desperate — had sunk deep into this heart during the war, and it crescendoed to the sounds of mothers clutching dead sons. The sounds that followed death were like a hollow opera. Waning and wailing.

In the raucous wake left by warborn grief, Bucky drowned everytime.

To the Winter Soldier, the operatic quality to the sounds of grief were as insignificant as a child’s rhyme.

He did not drown. No, he waded through the waves, comfortable in the cold and unphased by the stinging cut of loss. That was not something he could comprehend. After all, there were orders and there were targets, and everything in between was absolute.

He was the disease that devoured all.

He’s holding a gun to Andrei Kuznetzov’s head in a dining room with ornate trim — with silverware as delicate as scalpels that tinker against fine china. The carpets are red, the curtains are red, there’s blood on the table cloth. The guests continue to eat. Kuznetzov’s wife is screaming, red nails dug so deep into the dining chair’s arms it’s carving out the fabric. War dogs, like him, keep her rooted in her seat, and her tears find polished boots. She’s begging and bartering but the man with Kuznetzov’s life in his hands is not listening. He is eating his veal, bloodied meat dancing between his lips. He takes a sip of wine as his medal emblazoned chest glimmers in the light of crystalline chandaliers.

The spoils of war.

His smile is stained red.

There is no deal to be made.

The Winter Soldier pulls the trigger.

NOW.

His eyes are open.

Panic is the first emotion he feels, and it seizes him up quickly in its grasp. He doesn’t know this view, he doesn’t know where he is, not again, not again, not again —

Then:

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. Did you know you snore?”

The relief that the sound of your voice brings is immediate, and just like that he remembers. He’s laying on the bed. You’re sat up across from him at that small desk in the corner. He reaches as he rubs his face to thumb the edge of the pillowcase. He exhales tightly.

He’s fine. His name is James Buchanan Barnes. He is not longer the Winter Soldier. He’s in his Brooklyn apartment. He is fine.

When’s the last fucking time he’s slept in a bed?

He sits up, scratching his neck as he does. You lean back, half rotated in the desk. Before you is a mess of papers and his laptop — and on top of the keyboard sits his notebook. It’s open to the page where all he’d been able to figure out about Innessa was scrawled in his chicken scratch.

Bucky swings his legs over the edge of the bed and immediately his back complains.

“How long was I out?” he asks, voice hoarse with sleep. He moves to part the curtains. The room blooms with warm morning light.

You offer an apologetic smile into the vanilla sunshine. “Three hours. I wanted you to get some shut eye. You were starting to look a little overwhelmed last night—”

“You click too fast,” he waves, standing and immediately rolling his neck to the side. You watch as the man, before as peaceful as a sleeping pup, now regains his usual thinning veiled level of threat. Bucky is dangerous — it shows in the way he holds himself. He cracks his neck, rolls his shoulders, and groans. He exhales again, posture sagging a bit, “I couldn’t keep up.”

You’re standing now, socks padding against the hardwood as you eye his cowlick with a budding bloom of affection. With his notebook between your index and middle finger, you offer it out. You cling to your empty coffee cup in the other.

“I didn’t peek,” you say warmly, “Pinky promise.”

His laugh is more like a hot puff of air. Bucky manages a look that feels like an emotional dethaw.

“Thank you.”

You lead the way to the kitchen, stretching your own back as you go. You’d been up all night — this is your third trip out here for yet another cup of coffee. The pot has been on for too long, though, and you know the coffee sitting there is beyond bitter. You’re moving to dump it down the sink when Bucky grumbles.

“Don’t.”

“You want it?”

“No,” he mutters, reaching for a mug, “But I don’t want to waste it.”

“Wow,” you chirp, “The Great Depression just jumped out.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, yanking open the fridge to search for something to eat, “It does that.”

“Well, grandpa,” you hand him the steaming cup and set out to make another pot, “You’re also living on Depression Era rations — might I suggest some Dolly’s? Because I’m starving and I’ve been up all night and I think that means I get to decide where we get breakfast.”

Bucky’s look is soft — but you don’t see it. You’re too busy scooping sugar into your cup, too busy nudging him aside to grab the milk. He’s rooted there in the kitchen, watching you move about. You’re comfortable. There isn’t a trace of anxiousness in you, not in this moment, and he tries to remember what it looks like.

Your eyes find his and he clears his throat.

“Earth to Sergeant Barnes?”

“Don’t start,” he groans, albeit playfully, “It’s too early.”

“Oh, what? Too early for me to grill you on why you didn’t tell me that little laptop in there was on loan from the FBI? To one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th?”

His face falls.

“Don’t worry,” you raise a hand quickly, leaning against the counter as you sip your coffee, “I figured that out before I did anything massively illegal.”

Bucky rubs his face as he takes a sip of his coffee — the bitterness is enough to slap him awake. He winces, swallows it back, and remembers the taste of instant coffee made in helmets on the line in Bastogne. He can smell snow, and the acrid sting of mortar smoke. Suddenly, he’s craving a cigarette.

That hasn’t happened in a while.

Bucky clears his throat. “Did you find anything?”

You frown slightly, lips pulled as you hide your inward disappointment — you push off from the counter and shake your head as you brush past him. Like a loyal dog, Bucky follows. Into the bedroom you go, and Bucky’s again surprised he managed to get any sleep at all in that bed. Maybe it was the comfort of having someone else there, or the genuine exhaustion that had finally choked him out after hours of trying to understand what the hell you were even doing on there.

You plop into the desk chair and snatch up a piece of paper littered with notes.

“I couldn’t do much of my usual snooping,” you explain gently as you gesture to the chromebook, “This thing might have been given to you in good faith, but they’re watching you pretty closely. So, I worked a little magic and ended up running a virtual machine. Gave me enough wiggle room to avoid the malware and keystroke trackers. Even still, I wanted to be careful, so I just did a little looking.”

“Looking?”

“I can’t dig deeper on Innessa, I know where to dig, but I can’t,” you frown, “Not on this laptop, and definitely not on my personal machines. I’ve got the GRC breathing down my neck, and the files I need to poke are very much off-limits.”

“So, what? We’re shit out of luck?”

“No, not entirely,” you stand up and motion to the paper in your hands; your tone is tight, “I know a few people who can help, but getting to them is going to be the hardest part.”

Bucky takes the paper, squinting at the writing as you settle on the edge of the bed next to him. You take a sip of your coffee and watch as his blue eyes dart across the notes; you point to the name scrawled across the top.

“There’s a club in lower Manhattan, but you’ve gotta know the right people to get in,” you mumble, scratching your cheek as a creeping sense of embarrassment bubbles up behind your words, “It’s in the basement of an old computer repair shop. It’s like a blackhat networking event, but with strippers.”

Bucky squints at the paper and reads the name. “The Glass Cannon?”

“Yeah,” you huff, crossing your arms tightly as you stand, “That’s the one.”

Bucky looks up from the paper, attention now rooted on the pacing you’ve begun to do across the room. Back and forth. You’re holding your coffee like a lifeline, gaze far away. That anxiousless way you’d been holding yourself before is gone. Now, he can see the tensing in your shoulders, in your fingers. You’re suddenly nervous.

Bucky stands. His voice is gentle.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” you snap almost immediately, “Just, y’know. Worried. I spent a lot of time there when I was younger. Did stupid shit. And now I’m about to waltz in after six years like I haven’t put that part of my life behind me.”

“We don’t have to do this,” he says immediately, moving to stand closer and halt your pacing. The invasion of your space forces you to look at him. His fingers glimmering in the morning light. You follow the line of his figure up to his eyes. The emotion there makes your heart clench. You can’t pin it down, and it’s gone in an instant.

“It’s the only way we’re going to find Innessa.”

“You don’t need to put yourself in situations like this for me,” he says, stressing the for me part in both expression and tone. The depreciation makes you wince and you’re fast to shake your head.

“That’s what friends do, Bucky,” you stand your ground, but you know there’s more to your reasoning than that, “Plus, she’s a bad guy. And I know you said I technically wasn’t the sidekick, but—”

“You’re not the sidekick—”

“I know,” you huff, nudging him gently with your arm, “But, I wanna help. Do some good.”

“You do enough good,” he mutters, “You’re a good person.”

Your words fail you at that — and your mouth parts but nothing comes out. Bucky watches with an expression as solid as rock as you blink and look away. His hand, the one of flesh and bone, finds your wrist as you tighten your grip on your mug.

The touch, though far too tender for you to handle, feels like fire.

Like a slap in the face, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky is.

You slap that thought back, trading volleys, and remain quiet.

His tone is stern. “I mean it.”

“Well,” you finally muster, tone dipping sardonically into a cruel peel of humor, “Just wait until you see me in my natural habitat. Maybe the tequila shots will make you second guess that.”

“I didn’t know we were going out drinking,” he chirps as he raises an eyebrow, “Am I going to need to get you a leash?”

“We’re gonna have to try and blend in as best we can. People are going to know me — if they try to pin me with the GRC or the feds, we aren’t going to get anything on Innessa. They probably won’t even let me in the building if they suspect something’s up, after all not everything that goes down in Glass Cannon is kosher.”

“This is already sounding like a bad idea,” Bucky mumbles as he crosses his arms, “I’m stating that for the record, by the way.”

“Well, I think standing around and working ourselves up about this is even worse of an idea,” you chirp back, moving towards the door to muscle on your shoes, “So I say we feed ourselves and don’t worry about this until Thursday night.”

“Thursday.”

You nod.

All of a sudden, Bucky’s eyes go wide.

“Today is Sunday.”

You freeze, hand on the doorframe. You shoot him a wide-eyed look at the sudden flare of panic that’s shot up through him. “Yea, Bucky, today is Sunday.”

“Shit.”

“What?” you nearly cry as he disappears into the bedroom once more. You hear his closet open, then a clatter as he grabs something like keys — you nearly run directly into his chest when he strides back into the kitchen. He’s shouldered on his usual leather jacket, and in his hands is another.

He’s got keys in his hand.

“C’mon.”

He shoves the jacket into your arms and you frown.

“What the hell?” you cry, doubling back to snag your phone and bag as Bucky moves to the door, “What is this?”

“Put it on,” he says, holding open the door for you as you follow him into the apartment hallway.

You raise a brow and stand there as he locks the door.

“Why?”

“Because,” Bucky mumbles, rubbing his face as he widens his strides to the stairwell across the hall; before you know it, you’re desperately trying to keep up as he bounces down the steps — light on his feet like the boxer he is — towards the lower level of the apartment complex, “We’re late.”

You groan, trying to shrug on the jacket that smells like Bucky as you follow — a smell you’d come to know as clean laundry and sandalwood. Must be something for his hair. He never wore cologne, that much was apparent. The jacket is big on you, especially on the shoulders. You were swimming in it, trying not to trip as he held the door open to the garage.

Suddenly, the air is cooler. Immediately you wonder how much his rent is if he had access to a ground level garage. Call it NYC instinct.

“Bucky,” you nearly whine, throwing your head back, “Where are we going?”

Before you get a reply, you run straight into his back. Bucky grunts, moving to grab both of your hands and push you to the front of him.

Sitting in the spot is a motorcycle.

It’s a jet black Harley.

Bucky is handing you the helmet on the back seat as your mouth moves in disbelief. “No way— no, I’m not getting on that thing. I’d rather sell my kidneys. Stop, stop — ow, Bucky — you haven’t even said where we’re going!”

He’s muscling the helmet onto your head and through the flash of the visor you can see a real smile, the sort born out of his never-ending amusement towards your fickle sense of humor. His fingers are nimble against your chin. He takes the time to strap it on, adjust it, and give it a gentle tug. Bucky taps the matte black helmet twice, then flicks the visor down.

“We’re going upstate.”

                                        ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

It takes two hours to get to Elmwood Senior Living.

You spent the first forty-five minutes clinging to Bucky’s waist with your eyes closed — no fault of Bucky’s, really. It was different from riding in a car by miles, and you had your own qualms with driving. You couldn’t be in the passenger’s seat anymore. Not after the accident with Jaimie, when Mom disappeared. Being out of control made you itch; and it’s not until the fifty-minute mark that you ease up on the panic and remember who the man is that’s driving the bike.

You trust Bucky. You trust him with your life.

Once it’s open road, winding up towards the Northern part of the state, it gets easier.

Bucky can feel your grip around his waist loosen just a bit — and it’s enough reassurance that he stops looking back in the mirror every fifteen seconds. It’s enough permission to open up on the throttle, and the bike roars alive. Your immediate reaction is a gobsmacked yelp, the sort that’s pulled from a jolt of shock, but then comes the laugh. 

Bucky’s own quiet chuckle rumbles against your chest. You hold on tighter, but this time with open palms against the thrum of his ribs.

Halfway through the trip, he pulls into a McDonald’s.

You drop your ass onto the parking lot’s curb as he leans against the bike and houses a burger. You laugh, eyeing him candidly as you take a large bite from your own lunch. Bucky is a mess with it — cursing quietly when he ends up getting ketchup on his jacket.

“Shit.”

“Jesus, Bucky,” you mutter, “Did you even taste that thing?”

“Barely,” he clears his throat and starts picking at his fries, “These things taste different now. First time I ever had McDonald’s was right before bootcamp.”

“How much was it? Five cents?” you snort, leaning back and dropping a fry into your mouth.

Bucky watches with a half-smirk. “Fifteen, but nice try.”

He spends the next five minutes on his hand with a wet nap, trying hard to get the grease out of the delicate plates along his palm. You watch, as you knock back the rest of your soda, as his eyes crinkle tightly in frustration. His mouth is pulled tightly into a fine line. For the second time today, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky Barnes is — and how fucking stubborn he is, too.

“Want help?”

“No,” he mutters, trying to get a spot between his thumb and index finger, “I got it.”

“I have smaller fingers,” you sing-song, gathering up his trash and your trash and crossing the parking lot to the bin; upon returning, you waggle them in his face, “Good for hard to reach places.”

Bucky absolutely hates that can feel his blush hit the tips of his ears at the comment.

He’s glad you’re too preoccupied with his hand to notice. You’re watching, like you always do, with respectful awe. To you, this part of him is a bit like a treasure — you find it beautiful and intriguing and incredible. It’s clear in the way you watch the mechanisms turn and tighten that you aren’t frightened by it.

It unsettles Bucky every time.

Finally, once he’s finished under your watchful eyes, he leans to muscle that helmet back over your head. You groan, squinting tightly.

“C’mon,” he knocks your helmet with his knuckles, “We’re almost there.”

The rest of the ride is wide open space, farm land and mountainous peaks looming far ahead. It’s warm, and the sun is hot on your back. The wind is howling around you and it sends your jacket collar flapping against your neck. Your chin rests neatly on Bucky’s shoulder, trying to get a view of the road ahead.

Elmwood Senior Living is tucked into the back of a suburb.

The two of you weave through a neighborhood or two, dancing under the shade of age old maple trees. They cast long, scattered shadows across the pavement as kids play on their lawns. A dog barks somewhere in the distance. Over the hill, church bells ring. Sunday service has ended.

Bucky rolls into the parking lot, past the large sign with swirling lettering. Suddenly, things make more sense. Suddenly, you’re struck with a sinking feeling of grief. Nostalgia. Mourning. But, happiness.

There are folks sitting outside, basking in the sun, tethered to walkers.

Bucky’s wrists crank back weathered knuckles, and slowly the bike rumbles into an open spot. Extending his legs, Bucky balances the bike with ease. You take that as your cue to swing yourself off the back clumsily, hopping a bit. Bucky leans, kicks the stand down, and with significantly more grace than you, swings his leg over.

You’re shrugging his jacket off when he speaks.

“He’s going to be different than how you imagine him.”

You exhale slowly, draping the jacket over the bike’s seat. You peel the helmet off.

“I’ve sort of pieced that together.”

You can see the slight discomfort hanging in his posture. You reach and touch Bucky’s arm.

“Come on,” you nod to the entrance, covered by a shady overhang where someone is helping a family member out of their car, “We don’t wanna be late, huh?”

His eyes soften. Bucky nods.

You walk side-by-side into the lobby of Elmwood Senior Living and it’s like time slows down. It halts in a warm, sunshine colored still — full of chatter, full of humanity, full of wisdom. The room is framed by big windows, by plants, by a man in a U.S. Navy ball cap. He’s stationed by the door, watching the comings and goings. The main desk, where a young woman watches, sits in the corner. You follow Bucky with a content little look. He notices.

He stands a little closer at the main desk. The girl, who looks like she’s incredibly out of place with her blue hair and piercings, is younger than you thought. Highschool, maybe. She offers Bucky an excited smile.

“Took you long enough,” she chirps, moving to sort through a bin to her side with key fobs.

Your brows raise. You spy calculus homework on the desk.

Bucky snorts. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He notices the same problem set you so, and purposely leans over the desk. Suddenly, you’re seeing flashes of a more boyish version of Bucky — one that reminds you of a man with siblings. Bucky taps the paper, jutting a chin to the girl as she tries to swat his attention away.

“How’d you do on that test?”

“I got a 96,” she chirps pridefully, laughing, “Thanks for the help, nerd.”

You’re watching the entire exchange with a smile, backing up a bit to toss a curious glance over your shoulder. There’s a dining room through open doors — and looks like lunch is just wrapping up. Folks are moving around, back to their rooms or upstairs where you can hear the beginnings of a seated aerobics class begin.

Bucky nudges you with his hand.

“Thanks, Sarah,” he says and waves the key she’d handed over.

The girl with the blue hair scoffs. “Say hi to grandpa for me, Bucket.”

You laugh out loud as Bucky quickly flips her off. She’s quick to do the same.

You follow him around the corner, grinning ear to ear. He spares you a sheepish look, then rolls his eyes.

“What was that?”

“She’s a good kid,” he offers, eyeing the key with the grey little fob attached, “Reminds me of my sister.”

Your face softens. “Sister?”

“Her name was Sarah, too,” he says quietly, boots landing softly on the blue carpet. He’s navigating the residential wing like he’s done it a million times. There are rooms with flowers outside, with holiday garb, with little photos and keepsakes. Each room holds a lifetime of personality — the sound of Jeopardy lulls along in the background.

You hum. Bucky sighs.

He meanders down a long hallway where a different door is — this one heavy and locked by the little keypad. Bucky raises the key fob to the device and the door buzzes.

This side of Elmwood is quieter.

Down the hall, Timmy Dorsey and Sinatra play quietly over someone’s record player.

There aren’t as many folks in the hall in this wing, but doors are open and nurses flit about. Around the corner, there’s a loud conversation going on about lunch — and you watch as Bucky weaves towards the nursing station. It’s a room overlooking the common area with windows. Inside are three women.

One of them immediately jumps when she sees Bucky.

“Oh, good! I was meaning to talk to you—”

“Everything alright?”

“About the same,” she breathes as she stands, moving to grab at a Bucky’s arm with a sense of motherliness that makes you smile, “But, meals have been a bit difficult lately.”

“No kidding,” he mutters, rubbing his chin, “He just doesn’t wanna eat?”

“He thinks Peggy is coming home,” the woman whispers with a pained smile as she begins to lead you both down the hall, “He thinks your grandmother made dinner for him.”

“Right,” Bucky nods, “Doesn’t wanna ruin his appetite.”

“Exactly.”

You take note of the conversation, muddling through your own confusion. You’re quiet, though. This isn’t really your conversation to have. Bucky seems to be relaxed more — even humming slightly to a song that plays across the hall from the room the nurse is knocking on.

“Mr. Carter?” she calls gently, “Your grandson is here to see you, and his…”

She looks expectantly at you. You bawk.

“Friend.”

“Right,” she smiles and pushes open the door.

It’s like a little slice of home.

Sofas, chairs, photos on the walls. There’s a record player in the corner, a television, a coffee table stacked with books on the second world war. There’s a dresser covered in baubles and warm light coming in from the window overlooking the street. It reminds you of your grandparents’ sitting room — everything looks so lived in, so comfortable, so alive.

And then, below the light of the window, is a hospital bed.

In it is Steve Rogers.

Not the one you know — no, this one has lived a full life. This Steve Rogers has fallen in love, owned a home, settled down. This Steve Rogers has years of wisdom settled into his face, years of well-fought fights in his joints. His blonde hair has gone shock white, but his smile is all the same.

“Bucky.”

The way Steve says his name is like the man beside you holds the world.

To Bucky, he can hear a new weakness. A new exhaustion.

“Hi, punk.”

The nurse offers a little wave to you as Bucky ventures into the room, stripping his jacket off and moving to scope out the minifridge in the small kitchenette beside the bathroom. She leaves the door open, and you smile to her softly. Bucky rummages, poking his head up.

“You want a drink, Steve?” he asks, tone almost like he’s feeling out the lucidity of the man across the room, “There’s some of that lemonade I brought last week in here.”

“Sounds good,” he says slowly, “Please.”

You feel out of place — not unwelcome, but… it’s clear that Bucky has come and gone from here a thousand times now. He knows to get the glasses out, to get a straw, to turn down the record player on his way over. Doris Day’s voice lowers to a soft croon. You watch with heavy eyes.

“I brought someone, Steve,” Bucky says, “She’s a big fan.”

“Oh?” Steve asks with a slow look to the corner where you’re standing, “That musta broke your heart.”

Bucky snorts as he moves to swing the hospital bed’s tray over Steve’s lap. He places the lemonade down, then the other glass on the nightstand. He’s quick to move the armchair closer to the nightstand, and gestures for you to come over. Bucky’s hands guide you by the shoulders as he plops you into the chair.

“She’s one of the good ones,” Bucky says, “Reminds me of you.”

“No kidding,” Steve says slowly, offering a hand that shakes, “Steve Rogers. It’s a pleasure.”

You exchange your name with a shy look, shaking that hand with reverence and gentility. “It’s an honor, Mr. Rogers.”

“Please,” he mumbles, moving to slowly take a sip of his lemonade, “Steve is fine.”

Bucky moves to take up a post on the opposite side of Steve, in the sun. “You’re losin’ weight, y’know.”

That earns him a wave of the hand.

Bucky leans back and sips his lemonade. He waggles a finger and you watch the two begin to go back and forth.

“No, no,” he swallows, “No, you don’t get t’ shrug me off—”

“M’fine, Buck,” a sigh, “Really.”

“Mhm,” he narrows his eyes, “You’re startin’ to look like the Steve I knew before the serum.”

You lean back, hiding a quiet smirk behind your hand.

“I was wondering when you were gonna show up an’ pester me,” he says with a tired look, “The only peace I get around here is when Peggy comes home.”

Your eyes jump to Bucky. He’s watching you.

“Peggy?” you ask gently, “Is that your wife?”

A proud smile washes over his face. “Still knocks me for a loop, too.”

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice is gentle, “Peggy won’t be coming around for a while. Remember?”

There’s a look that flashes across Steve’s face, then. A mixture of sadness, of confusion, of panic. It’s clouded with a furrow of his brow, hidden by a tilt of the head. He looks at Bucky, mouth pulled in a fine line.

When he finally speaks, his voice is sad.

“That’s right. I forgot.”

“S’alright,” Bucky taps his head, maintaining an air of nonchalance, “That’s why you got me.”

“And why you’ve got her, no doubt,” he turns to you with a winning smile and offers his hand again, “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

You take it, you shake it, and you introduce yourself once more. Your smile is patient and understanding. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Steve.”

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Steve smiles, tossing Bucky a look that borders on mischievous.

He sips his lemonade and clears his throat. “How is Sam?”

“You ask every time,” Bucky mutters, “And every time I have the same answer.”

“Sam?” you ask slowly.

“Wilson,” Bucky finishes, “Bird man.”

“You mean Falcon,” you correct, shooting him a stern look, “The Falcon. Are you ghosting The Falcon?”

“I don’t know what that even means, so maybe,” Bucky leans back and crosses his legs, “I’ve been busy.”

You roll your eyes. Steve saw. He smiles.

“I’m gettin’ why he keeps you around.”

Your face is smacked with a look of pure joy.

“C’mon on now,” Bucky cries, nearly indignantly, “No flirting—”

“M’ not flirting—”

“I know that look, Steve—”

Steve is laughing.

Bucky has a stern look in his eye. “You always do this—”

“I’m not doin’ a damn thing—”

“And you better keep it that way, old man,” Bucky shirks, voice splintering into a laugh in a way that you’ve never heard before, “I swear, this is how it always goes.”

“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, huh, Buck?” you ask gently, leaning your cheek into your hand.

Steve laughs loudly at that.

Bucky spares you a smile — the sort that’s drenched in good humor and sunlight. It makes your lungs flutter, and you ignore the buzz in your fingers at the sight. You hide your laugh into your cup of lemonade, resigning to be a quiet counterpart in the conversation.

The two of them go on to chat about small things, then chat about old things. From the Commandos, to HYDRA, to amends, to therapy, to Peggy, to the itch the starch of their old dress uniforms used to bring. It takes a bit, a few redirections on the way, but it’s clear by the end why Steve Rogers is in Elmwood’s memory unit.

It makes your heart ache.

And if a super soldier is bed-ridden…

The two of you say goodbye around three in the afternoon after Bucky helps Steve shave.

The walk back to the bike is quiet.

Bucky speaks first.

“He’s dying.”

You chew your lip, eyes on the pavement. You match his slow stride, bumping your elbow with his as you walk. It’s still warm, and the clouds hang high in the sky. When you look up, Bucky’s watching you. You sigh.

“I’m sorry,” you finally muster, “I am.”

“Don’t be,” he says, grabbing the jacket from the seat and holding it up, “He’s lived a long life.”

You let Bucky hold out the arm for you, and you press your hand through the sleeve. He helps the other side on, and you zip it up to your chin. When you turn around to face him, there are tears in your eyes.

They snuck up on you. You hadn’t realized it until Bucky’s face fell, until the first one fell along the weathered leather of the jacket. You blink, raising your brows as you swipe them away, and offer an apologetic look.

“I’m happy,” you say, “Y’know. He has you. But, he’s a man out of time. Even now. That makes me sad.”

Bucky’s quiet for a while. He’s leaned up against the bike as you turn and watch Elmwood from the back of the parking lot. There’s a big part of you that feels heavy with guilt — and though Steve was in good spirits when you left, you can’t help but ache to provide him with more company. It’s clear that seeing Bucky means a lot to him, and that in turn it means a lot to the man beside you.

“Come on,” Bucky says then, “Let’s go home.”

You nod, let him muscle that helmet onto your head one more time, and hold on a little tighter back to the city.

                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

You don’t see Bucky until Tuesday.

In all honesty, it feels weird to not hear from him for two days. At the very least, you expected some sort of phone call — but you remind yourself that you’ve been okay alone for a long time. There’s no need to throw all your work on being comfortable by yourself out the window for Bucky Barnes.

It’s tempting, though. God, it’s really tempting.

You hate the ache in your chest when you finally see him lumbering towards the cafe counter before your appointments. You hate this new feeling — so you shove it down and ignore the way his fingers brush yours when he hands you your latte.

He is ignoring it, too. He’s been ignoring it.

No use in thinking about it though.

“You got plans later?” you ask him in the elevator after your appointment, tilting your head, “Apparently there’s a Lord of the Rings marathon tonight on FX.”

Bucky stiffens — and immediately he can feel the hot sting of anxious regret flood his cheeks. He clears his throat, tucks his hands in his pockets, and toes the ground. You watch with a confused look. Then he speaks tightly.

“...I’ve got a date.”

You could have caught flies the way your jaw fell open.

“Oh. Oh!”

You blink, readjust your expression, and swallow down a sharp stab of rejection.

Bucky clears his throat. “It’s… I wasn’t going to but, Dr. Raynor—”

“No, no,” you wave your hands and shake your head and try to seem genuine, “No, I’m happy for you. Is this one of those Christian Minglers?”

Bucky groans. “Shut up.”

“Okay,” you say, “Okay! Just, uh, be careful. Y’know? And call if you need anything.”

The elevator doors open, and Bucky walks side by side with you through the well-lit lobby. He holds the door open for you, and you pass through with a pained look at the ground. He lingers, though, rubbing the back of his neck as you wait for him to say what’s on his mind.

“Thursday,” he says, “I’ll stop by.”

“Yea,” you say, waving your hand, “Whenever.”

But, that doesn’t end up happening.

No, Bucky Barnes shows up at your apartment doorstep at 10pm.

He’s clutching takeout and a six pack of beer and wearing a horrified expression that screams of guilt and exhaustion. No, Bucky buzzes the door to your apartment and basically croaks that he’s here — he’s asking if the marathon is still on while you buzz him up.

“Third floor,” you say into the buzzer with a smile, “Come on in, old man.”

When you open the door, you have to laugh — because his hair is a mess and there’s still a trace of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. Whereas jealousy threatens to flare, his incredibly regretful expression tamps it down. You cock a hip, eye him up and down, and jut your chin out.

“Get laid?”

Bucky rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised he didn’t break something.

He pushes past you, moving to drop the beer on the counter and place the takeout gently down by the basket of fruit.

“I’m here for the cat,” he grumbles, “Not your witty commentary, sweetheart.”

You’re moving quietly to the sink and gathering a paper towel with a smirk as Bucky looks around, admiring the decor and aliveness of your apartment. When you turn around, he’s already pried a beer from the pack and popped the top off with his vibranium palm.

He winces when you reach up to swipe the coral lipstick from the corner of his mouth.

Then Bucky settles, letting you clean off the mess.

“Mhm,” you hum, “Right. Was it at least fun?”

“She had fun,” he mutters into his first sip, “It was a lotta tongue for my first night out in nearly a century, though.”

You wince. He nods with a sardonic smile that tells you everything about how the date went down — and you’re relieved. “So, I take it you're not calling her in the morning?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “Nope. No, and I’ve decided no more dates. That was enough for me.”

You wince and pluck a beer from the pack. Wordlessly, Bucky gestures for you to hand it over. In one smooth motion, he twists the cap off with his hand.

“That bad?” you ask, eyeing him critically.

“I decided halfway through,” he says as he moves to take the takeout from its bag, “I’d rather be watching Lord of the Rings with you.”

That stops you into silence. It’s like someone’s taken your own words and gagged you with them — and you’re left floundering for breath you never even realize you lost. You know he means it. You know it because he won’t look at you, because that sort of confession isn’t easy for people like you two. So you take those words and you glue them in a lonely locket and keep them close to your heart.

Poke’s entrance saves you a mouthful of broken words — he comes in, trots up to Bucky, and hollers.

Bucky laughs.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he mutters, eyeing the cat that’s eagerly rubbing himself along Bucky’s leg.

You wipe your face, sip your beer, and move to the pantry across from the kitchen island. You come back out with a bag of salmon treats — the good ones — and offer Bucky the bag. He takes it, eyes still on the calico, and crinkles it a little.

You lean against the counter and watch Bucky kneel.

“If you keep it up long enough he might even let you hold him.”

He lights up at that.

You laugh.

You move to grab plates and forks and knives and groan when you open up the first box to see Pad Thai — you make a mental note to properly thank Bucky for this. You meager dinner of reheated pasta really hadn’t hit the spot. This will, though. You can tell from the smell alone.

By your knees, Poke chirps.

“He’s cute.”

“I never took you for a cat guy.”

Bucky snorts.

You make a plate and flick his head as you walk by. “You’re missing the start of The Two Towers.”

“I’m going to be confused, aren’t I?” he asks as he stands and begins making himself a plate. He watches as you settle onto the couch and sip your beer, “I was too busy being turned into a cyborg to read the books.”

You laugh out loud. It shocks you.

“Was that a joke? Did Bucky Barnes just make a joke?”

He’s smirking. He rounds the counter with his food and settles next to you. Poke is following him, eager to curl up next to his new friend.

“I can be funny.”

“Funny lookin’.”

He elbows you on purpose. You snort into your beer.

There’s a comfortable moment of quiet between you, and you clear your throat.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly, “No problem.”

More quiet, and he’s still watching you. Then, he asks what’s been on his mind for the last three days.

“You got a plan for Thursday?”

“I’ve got anxiety, Buck,” you exhale, swigging your beer and turning the television up, “I always have a plan.”

[yayteaberry]

*SFW* Just, Relax. (Enji Todoroki)

As far as casual fucking could go, he didn’t leave much room to desire anything he couldn’t give. He liked it in the same ways that you usually did, which was hard, fast, and full of energy. There was a lot of stress in his life and this was one of the ways he got the tension out.

But, you had stress too.

This week had really beaten you down, between several incidents at work you never wanted to think about again and less than favorable interactions with who you thought was your friend, you were exhausted.

Of course, he picked today to stop by.

You knew it from the moment you opened the door, it was impossible to not notice his presence.

Especially when he was right in front of you.

“Took you long enough.” His voice had always been something to excite you, but right now you really didn’t care.

“I’m not in the mood, you gotta go home.”, you say blandly, letting your purse slide onto the floor and shuffling past him, going to your room so you can lay face down on your bed.

The front door closes, and you think he’s left, letting out a long sigh as you continue to lay still, considering just passing out in your work clothes.

Why should you even bother, not like you’re dirty or anything.

“... Is everything okay?”

You push yourself up and turn your head, very surprised he’s still here. Though you sense it’s to get between your legs, not interested in the least. “I said you have to go home Enji, I don’t wanna mess around right now.”

“Never said I wanted to do that. You didn’t answer my question.” He folds his arms in that iconic stance he’s always doing in pictures, taking a few steps closer so he can better observe how miserable you are.

“Sure, you’re so openly concerned about me and my needs. It won’t change anything if you leave, if anything I’d appreciate it.” With that you drop back into position, waiting for him to go away. But he doesn’t, the bed dipping besides you as he sits down. You roll over onto your back and give him a pointedly ‘really?’ look.

It’s confusing that he isn’t getting the hint, he’s never been the type to force anything on you.  Well, anything you hadn’t asked for.

“If things have been rough for you… I.. Hope they improve. Sooner rather than later.” It’s stiff and entirely unnatural for the man to say something like that, but he forces it out, trying to be comforting.

You’re stunned by that, it’d be a shitty attempt at soothing if it came from anyone else, but from him that was absolutely precious. The words do revive you a bit, sitting up so you can lean against him, calmly enjoying the aura he’s made. There’d always been pressure to be someone else around him, he’d fuck you and that was all he was there to do, it made sense you’d exaggerate some aspects of your personality to suit the environment that created.

But this felt different.

Like something changed. And, it wasn’t a bad change either. This was nice, unusual, but nice.

“That’s sweet,”, you say after a moment passes, smiling when he runs a hand along your arm in a reassuring way. He could be so aggressive during sex that you’d forgotten he’s even capable of being gentle.

You get up on your knees so you can reach him, turning him so you can give him a kiss. “I do mean that, it’s very thoughtful of you.”

When he tries to follow that up with another, you back away, still smiling. “Mm-mm, I’m up for this but that’s about it, okay?”

“If that’s what you want,” he murmurs before cradling the back of your head, successfully kissing you. It’s light, but there’s a serious heat behind it. So you relinquish your hesitations and crawl over to sit in his lap, just barely able to stay level with the massive man.

“Honestly, what are you even here for now?”, you ask as you pull away, curiously sizing his intentions up. It really didn’t make much sense, even if he said what he did, this was very out of the normal for him.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m here because I want to be, because you’re here.”

That makes your heart thud a bit faster, he’s never been one to lie at any rate. You can’t think of a way to respond that’d be nearly as meaningful as you want it to be, so you just say what’s on your mind.

“I mean, not to discredit you, I just straight up told you we aren’t gonna fuck, so you get why I’d be confused as to why you wanna stick around. I’m very aware that you don’t do things out of sheer politeness if you don’t want to do them but…”, your thoughts get bunched up, unable to finish the sentence you’d started, pointedly looking through him as you figure out the best way to piece it together.

He doesn’t let you think long, tilting your chin so you meet his eyes. Doing so breaks you out of your hailstorm of thoughts. “You’re right, I don’t do things I don’t want to do. I don’t hide any of my opinions. So, knowing that, why are you still looking for an underlying motive?”, he says with his eyebrows narrowed down, almost suggesting he’s a little hurt by the question.

That has you feeling bad in a lot of ways, knowing your trust issues are yet again intervening in places it doesn’t have too. Being vulnerable is hard but if he’s doing it for you then you should for him.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I’ve been having a shit week and it’s just a reflex to take anything at its worst anymore…” You huff and let all your weight rest against him, face against his chest.

He hums in response and you can feel the vibration more than you hear it, fully melting when he runs his hand over your back, digits firmly smoothing over your sore muscles. A good few minutes pass by, the peace of his presence actually managing to undo a lot of your pent up angst.

You can hear his heartbeat rhythmically thudding away, almost hypnotized by it. There’s something about him today that has you noticing how nice and masculine he smells today, comfortable in partially smothering yourself for it.

You can’t be sure when you fell asleep, but you open your eyes and it’s pitch black, now lying down on your bed.

Disappointment has you grimacing, realizing you passed out on him and he most likely left right after. As you go to sit up so you can change into some proper sleep wear, you notice a few things.

First, he’s still here, one arm slung over your waist keeping you from actually moving. Secondly he undressed you down to your underwear, which you find sweet that he’d consider how uncomfortable sleeping in your work clothes would’ve been. Third, he’s out cold next to you, but radiating heat like a furnace, something you appreciate with your lack of clothing.

The usual set of events was that he’d leave an hour or so after finishing, likely before you’d even fully recovered, sending a nice arranged gift basket on your way the next day.

But here he was, snoozing away.

You don’t have a clue as to what inspired this behavior but that doesn’t mean you don’t embrace it fully, cuddling up close to him.

When he tightens his arm around you to pull you in close, you can’t help but smile.

[13uswntimagines]

Family’s Hard (Kristie Mewis x Reader)

Request: part 2 of the fic with Kristie that you post today! Maybe something with the r and Kristie both getting call for the national camp and we see a bit of what happen at camp with mal. pt 2. Maybe with both the reader and Kristine on the USENT roster and the fallout with Amal because of the reader being there. part 2 of the reader and mal meet up again joined by the team

Pt. One 

You had never been more unhappy while staring at a plate full of pancakes in your entire existence. You loved your typical practice meal (and your girlfriend of almost a year’s hand on your thigh while you ate it), but you weren’t enjoying the disapproving glare you were getting from across the table. She had been like this the moment you stepped off the plane, and you feared she wouldn’t stop until camp was over. 

It wasn’t like you decided to sit at this table to annoy Mal. Kristie wanted to sit with Sam, and you weren’t about to brave the dining room all by your little lonesome (plus you liked the team's Tower of Power and enjoyed watching the siblings banter).

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, pushing your chocolate chip pancakes around the plate, and keeping your eyes trained on your fork. 

“You ok?” Your girlfriend asked, her lips caressing your ear. You didn’t miss the way your older sister's nose scrunched at the looseness between you and the older midfielder. 

“Just tired. The flight from Houston was super long,” You mumbled, shrugging lightly. 

“You sure?” Kristie nudged your cheek with her nose and squeezed your thigh. You had been jittery since you left your shared apartment in Houston to head for camp and no amount of reassuring from your girlfriend seemed to be helping. 

“Psh. The flight home from France was exhausting, and then we had to get ready for good morning America. That was crazy, right Sammy?” Mal said with a wicked smile, completely cutting you off. Your mouth clicked shut and Kristie squeezed your thigh again (her jaw working overtime to prevent the scathing comment from leaving the tip of her tongue). 

Mal had been impossible since you stepped foot into the hotel the USWNT had commandeered for camp. She had swung between outright bitchy and underhanded reminders of Jill's preference of her over you all day and Kristie was getting sick of it. Your shoulders slouched a little more with every remark, every jab clouding over a little bit more of your sunshine. 

“That was pretty crazy,” Sam nodded, watching you and her sister carefully. She was trying to run as much interference as she could, but it seemed your sister wanted to make you as uncomfortable as possible. Almost like she was trying to drive you off the team. 

“Definitely not as crazy as that party right after we won. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much champagne in my entire life. Not even after we beat Texas,” Mal added, and you shivered at the memory, wilting under her glare. 

It was your freshman year (and coincidentally Mal’s senior year), and the first time the two of you had ever really played against each other. UCLA decimated your team and took over a frat house to celebrate. From what you heard, it was one of the biggest parties Texas A&M had ever seen. 

Kristie sighed, wrapping the arm that was on your leg around your back, rubbing soothing circles. You leaned into the touch, still playing with the food on your plate, trying to hold your tongue and not rise to Mal’s prodding. 

“From what I hear there was a lot of alcohol after Houston won the challenge cup,” Sam nodded, sharing a look with her sister and side-eyeing her friend. 

“That was just beer, Sammy. It wasn’t as classy because no one cares about an arbitrary chaos cup win, especially after we won the World Cup. It’s all about scale,” Mal continued, completely ignoring the glare Kristie had pointed at her, enjoying the way you were squirming in your chair. 

You shoved your plate away, giving up on eating. You didn’t want to be here. 

“I'm sure. I’m gonna go. The uniform staff wanted to see me anyway,” You mumbled, just loud enough for Kristie to hear you (or so you thought). 

Mal’s vicious smile grew. She just couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to you. You were always chasing after her, and this time she had done what you couldn’t. She wasn’t ready to give that up yet. 

“I’d tell you to switch names, but all I can suggest is to pick a number you can actually live up to,” She sneered. 

Your entire being froze and you blinked owlishly at your older sister (taking comfort in how Kristie's arm tightened around you). 13 had been your number since high school, but you knew that Alex was a vet and you weren’t stupid (or disrespectful) enough to even dream of trying to take it. You knew you would never be even close to the level of Alex Morgan. 

You had accepted that and Instead chosen a different number, one you were proud to wear. You had no control over the last name on your jersey (until Kristie and you decided you wanted to get married, if you wanted to get married, and that was still pretty far off). 

“Come on. They wanted to do a quick check-in with me too,” Kristie said, standing and dragging you with her out of the room, her eyes sending daggers towards your sister. She was done watching you collapse back into yourself. 

****

Sam stared at Mal’s Cheshire Cat grin, her mouth agape. She didn’t understand why your older sister was being like this, or how she could continue eating as though she didn’t just rip you apart. (And at this rate someone had to stop her before Kristie killed her). 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sam said, leaning forward and resting both elbows on the table. 

Mal shrugged, taking another sip of her orange juice. “What? I’m just being realistic,”

If you didn’t want to hear stories about their triumph at the World Cup, or how awesome the party was afterward, you could just find yourself a new seat (and take your girlfriend with you- you always did have to outdo her). 

“You were a little harsh babe,” Rose said softly, patting the forward's hand. 

Sam scoffed loudly, shaking her head. “She practically crumbled under that last comment,”

It was painful to watch your shy bean self withdraw back into the shell her sister worked so hard to crack. Even if you had Kristie here to support you, she wasn’t sure how long you would last without bursting into tears or getting into a screaming match with your sister. You were under enough pressure as it was. 

“She’s just overly sensitive. If she wants to play in the big leagues she’s going to have to learn to stand up for herself,” Mal rolled her eyes. 

It was a going joke in your family that Mal got the brains and beauty, while you just got the leftover emotions. Ever since you were kids, she had been the extroverted one saving you from bullies and being the “good example” that her parents wanted her to be. But this was her thing, and she didn’t want you horning in on it. (It was also a slight protective instinct too. She would rather be the one giving you shit than the media. They were ruthless and you would probably never forgive her. The road to hell was paved with good intentions after all.)

Sam sighed, taking in how Mal’s eyes tighten just a touch beneath her nonchalance. As much as she wanted to pretend she didn’t care about you, it was obvious that she did. The questions now were if she was willing to have a change of attitude and if she would even be able to repair the damage she had already done. 

“Just be careful with how far you push her, alright?” Sam said thoughtfully. 

Mal rolled her eyes again, any care she may have felt disappearing. “I know what I’m doing Sam,” 

“I really hope you do, because I remember what it was like to always be trying to live up to your older sister and how difficult that was. And Kristie knew when to cut me some slack,” Sam said, raising her eyebrow at the younger woman. 

She really hoped she could get through to her before Mal lost you, and Kristie kicked her head off. 

*****

You sighed into Kristie's lips, enjoying the way her hips pinned you to the wall and her tongue explored your mouth. You weren’t one for public displays of affection, but she had dragged you into an abandoned corner of the hotel after your sister's clear display of disdain. 

You guessed an upside to being at camp with Mal was your girlfriend's desire to cheer you up. You always responded better to physical contact (which was why Kristie used it to help you calm down all the time). 

You hummed as the hands under your shirt made their way up to cup your cheeks, her fingers tangling in the baby hairs at the back of your neck. She let the kiss continue for another minute, before pulling back, so her lips were just barely ghosting over your own and your foreheads were touching. 

You futilely tried to push off the wall and chase her lips, only for her to chuckle and pull back so you couldn’t reach, keeping you pinned with her hips. 

“Ah, no more kisses until you say it,” She mumbled, her breath fanning across your lips. 

You whined. You loved how supportive Kristie was, but you didn’t want to do this right now. You didn’t want to go through your normal reaffirmation routine. Not after the shots, Mal had taken at you. 

“But-“

Kristie chucked at the keening whine again, shaking her head (both at how adorable your pout was and because she was standing her ground). She learned a long time ago that the best way to stop your mental spiraling was for you to say how worth it you were. “No buts. To get what you want you gotta say it,” 

You huffed, I ally opening your eyes to look into Kristie’s determined blue. She raised her eyebrow at you. 

“I’m an amazing person, no matter what anyone says,” You mumbled, looking away from your girlfriend. She hummed, using her thumb to tilt your chin back up. 

“And?” She asked, a smile playing on her lips. Your pout deepened. You were set to start and Mal had made you feel bad about it. Now Kristie was trying to get you to admit that you deserved the opportunity. 

The two of you stared at each other for a long minute, and you debated in trying to get back to the kissing again, to not say the last part of your mantra. Kristie's thumb ran soothingly over your cheek as if she was reading your mind. “Come on babe,” she said softly. 

You bit your lip, finally giving in. “I shouldn’t feel guilty about opportunities I receive,”

“Good,” Kristie smiled, leaning back in to connect your lips. You smiled back into the kiss. Maybe things weren’t so bad if you got this treatment after your sister was mean to you, even if Kristie was trying to get you to finally confront her about her behavior. “And for the record, you can always say you’ll have a cooler last name later,” 

*****

This was getting out of hand. Very out of hand. You hit the ground again, your face scraping against the turf after another bad tackle. You groaned, pushing yourself up off the turf and brushing yourself off, ignoring the hand of the defender in front of you in favor of taking the hand your girlfriend offered. 

Kristie glared at the blond defender, very pissed off that she was pushing you so hard. “Fucking watch it Sonnett, another tackle like that and I’ll beat your ass myself,” Your girlfriend growled, brushing a stray piece of turf off your back. 

Emily shrugged, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. “Just trying to test the Rookie. Need to make sure she can handle a little pressure,” 

She liked you, but with the pressure, Mal was putting n you, she thought that they were all going to go hard. To show you exactly how difficult this game could be and how much you needed to work to be on their level. 

“I think Mal is doing enough of that on her own,” Kristie raised her eyebrow at the woman, still rubbing the turf off your back and cringing at the new burn. If this hadn’t been a teammate’s doing, she probably would have killed them by now. Ripped them limb from limb for touching you, but you didn’t need that. You needed her support and not her overprotectiveness. 

“She actually needs to be able to play against Canada,” Sam said, patting her back. Emily shook her head. Mal was right. She would rather be the one to go hard on you and prepare you than some random defender who didn’t care at all. 

As far as she was concerned, Mal’s plan was still in effect and you were going to have to pull some trick to get past her again. 

****

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Kristie threaded a ball through the gap between Becky and Julie, straight to you. You turned, taking advantage of the gap in the backline, dribbling across to try and get a clear shot. 

You didn’t see that gap collapsing. You didn’t see Emily and Midge racing towards you until it was too late. There was a loud crunch as you were caught between the two defenders, and tumbled to the ground. 

The reaction from the rest of the team was instant. Kristie raced over, followed closely by Sam. Both women kneeling down next to you, trying to get you to roll over. It seemed that another blue blur was already laying into the two defenders. 

“Lay the fuck off my sister,” Mal yelled, shoving Sonnett back from where her shifting form was standing over you. 

Emily held her hands up in defense, stumbling away from you. “I’m just trying to keep the intensity up, exactly like you are,” 

Mal growled audibly, stepping up to the taller defender and wrapping her fist into her shirt. “It’s different. She’s my sister and I’m the only one who gets to fuck with her. Got it,” she said her voice deadly calm. 

Emily nodded rapidly, her eyes wide as Mal straightened her shirt, patting her shoulder. Emily backed away slowly, her hands still extended, terrified that Mal (and your girlfriend) would decide to actually kill her. 

Mal nodded once the offending defenders were far enough away from you, before turning in your direction. 

You were finally on your feet, shifting awkwardly and rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Thanks,” You mumbled as she approached. 

She smiled, pulling you into a very strange hug.“You got it, kid. I love you, even if you’re not as good as me yet,”

She let you go and winked. You smiled and trotted off back to your position, warmth filling you. Sure you weren’t on the best terms, but you were sisters and the act was like a white flag. A truce. 

Kristie caught Mal’s arms as she passed. “Learn to lay off a little bit. I don’t want to have to hurt you,”

Mal nodded. You were family mad the only one who got to mess with you was her. She would kill anyone else who tried and she was glad you had gained two protectors. 

[expectingtofly]

Take a Load Off

2.5k

fluff, post-canon, human!cas, anxious dean, established dean/cas

(i saw this post by @emptymeg and couldn’t get it out of my head, so here’s a fic :)

also posted on ao3

“What’s in the box?” Dean asked, coming into the library to see Cas setting a large package on the map table with a huff. The table creaked under its weight. “Hey, name that movie.”

Cas cocked his head. “What movie?”

Dean groaned. “Seriously, dude, you’re hopeless. What’s in the box! Brad Pitt?” Cas shrugged and Dean sighed. “Forget it.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Cas said, fetching scissors from a drawer, “This box is for you. I bought you something.”

“Oh?” Dean came to the table, interest even more piqued. “What kind of something?”

Cas gave him a look. “Not what you’re thinking.” He cut through the tape securing the box. “I read that this can relieve stress and help you sleep better.”

“I already know something that can do that.” He added a wink for good measure.

“So,” Cas continued, ignoring him, “I thought you should try it. You haven’t been getting enough sleep lately and I’m worried about your anxiety levels.”

“Wait a moment,” Dean protested. “What do you mean, my ‘anxiety levels’?” Cas opened the box and he leaned over to look at the contents. Folded, silky dark grey fabric. “What is that, a blanket?”

“A weighted blanket,” Cas corrected, heaving it out of the box. “Twenty pounds.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He plucked at the fabric. “This is supposed to help?"

“It’s proven by science.” He nodded at a chair by Dean. “Go, sit.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean sat down and Cas draped the blanket over him. “Fuck.” Dean lifted his arms up under the blanket, then dropped them. “This is actually heavy.”

“Do you feel relaxed?”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“You don’t look it at all,” Cas deadpanned and Dean kicked at him. Cas pulled a brochure out of the box. “Soft cotton filled with poly pellets,” he read. “Alleviate anxiety and increase serotonin.” He studied Dean, eyes squinted. “You still look tense.”

“Sorry, Cas.” Dean shoved the blanket to the floor with a thump. “Think you got duped.”

“You’re not doing it right,” Cas grumbled, picking it up off the ground. “You have to give it a chance.”

“I just gave it a chance.” Standing, he brushed Cas’ hair off his forehead, gave him his best you love me smile. “Now, do you really wanna help me relax?”

Cas studied him for a long moment, then said, “Okay.” He carefully folded the blanket. “We’re keeping this, though. I still think it’ll work.”

Dean made a face behind his back and started to follow him out of the room, but the phone Sam had recently installed in the library for a hunter hotline started ringing. He groaned and Cas hesitated in the doorway.

“Do I have to?” Dean asked him.

“I suppose so,” Cas sighed and set the blanket down on a chair. Turns out the call was from a hunter out near Boise who needed help with a case. Of course, Sam was away visiting Eileen, so he and Cas got stuck spending the next two hours going over the case information, trying to figure out what the monster was. They finally settled on vetala, a whole pack of them, and after instructing the hunter on how to kill them, Dean hung up the phone.

“Fuck,” he swore, rubbing at his eyes. “Who knows how big the pack is. Could be a whole dozen of the freaks.”

“Well, now she knows how to kill them,” Cas said. “And there’s other hunters in the area who can help.”

“Yeah...” Dean fiddled with his pen, tapping it on the open pages of his dad’s journal.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked.

Dean realized he was frowning. “Nothing.” Flexing his shoulders, he stretched out his back, stiff from poring over books. “Just, three people are already dead. I better be right that it’s a pack of vetala.”

Reaching over, Cas rubbed his back in small circles and Dean leaned back into his hand. “We did all we could, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t so sure that was true. But, short of driving all night out to Boise, he supposed there wasn’t much else they could do. Still, he didn’t like the idea that he might’ve missed a clue, might’ve misled the hunter. He clicked his pen again and again, going over the case in his mind, worst case scenarios—

“Are you going to sleep now?” Cas asked, and Dean glanced at him.

“No.” Dropping the pen, he pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Don’t think I can now.”

“Would you say you’re feeling stressed? Anxious, perhaps?” Cas deliberately looked to his right and Dean followed his gaze to the weighted blanket folded on a chair.

“Dude, don’t even start.”

“You should use it,” Cas urged. “There’s no shame in feeling anxious, I often feel the same way too.”

“I’ve dealt with worse before, this is nothing new. Just comes with the job.”

Cas sighed. “You put too much on your shoulders.”

Dean shrugged. “Like I said, comes with the job.” If he wasn’t always on edge, he figured he was doing things wrong. Get too comfortable and bad things happened. Just the way it was.

“Still, you can admit you need a break.”

“Jeez, Cas, I’m wounded.” Dean pressed a hand to his chest. “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Cas rolled his eyes and stood. “Don’t stay up too late.” He seemed to hesitate, fighting against saying more, and Dean said,

“I’m fine, Cas, really.”

“Okay.” Cas didn’t look too convinced, but he kissed Dean goodnight and headed off to their bedroom.

Dean cleaned up the mess of books and papers on the table, turned off the lamps just to do something with his hands. Normally, this is when he’d grab a drink, try to calm his head, but he’d been trying to cut back lately—blame Cas’ concern for his liver—so instead he decided to head to the Dean Cave. Maybe a few episodes of Dr. Sexy would distract himself enough to sleep.

Leaving the room, his eyes fell on the weighted blanket again. Cas and his ridiculous ideas. If Dean hadn’t been sleeping too well lately, that was just the result of living their kind of life. Nothing to do about it. Ignore the stress or end up drowning in it, that was his motto.

(And a horrible coping method, according to Sam and Cas)

Either way, lying under twenty pounds of “cotton and poly pellets” wasn’t going to help. Though the blanket had been really soft, he’d give it that.

He forgot all about it the following day, though, when Sam found a case a few towns over, and Dean and Cas drove over to meet him there. Disturbed gravesites, people disappearing near the cemetery at night. A ghoul, by all signs. A day of morgue visits and interviewing witnesses, then another two days of sitting parked in the cemetery, waiting for the ghoul to emerge again and feed. Dean was almost happy to see the thing when it crawled out of its grave. Almost.

Killing the damn thing hadn’t been too easy. But after inadvertently destroying a few gravestones, nearly falling into an open grave, and narrowly avoiding losing a few limbs, they finally bashed the ghoul’s brains in thoroughly, and split up from the cemetery. Dean went to speak to the latest victim’s mother while Cas and Sam got rid of the remains.

Returning to the bunker first, Dean showered, blood and ghoul remains washing away down the drain. But even the warm water couldn’t ease the jitteriness sitting high in his chest. The ghoul had been strong, fast, and Dean’s heart had leapt into his throat when it got a hold of Sam. Even Cas had struggled to stop the thing, gunshots only serving to anger the son of a bitch more.

Getting out of the shower, he scrubbed himself dry with his towel, inspected a cut along his arm. Not deep enough for stitches. If Sam had avoided a concussion, they were lucky. The ghoul was dead, at least. Left a dozen ruined graves and a few torn apart teenagers in its wake, but dead.

As he changed into clean clothes, he heard the bunker door open. “All good?” he asked, entering the war room to find Sam and Cas setting down their bags.

“If you mean will the trunk always reek like ghoul, then yes,” Sam said. He grimaced as he took off his boots, muddy footprints already leaving a trail down the bunker stairs. Then he glanced at his phone and smiled, said, “Eileen’s calling.”

“Whipped,” Dean mouthed at him as Sam answered his phone, smiling at the screen and walking off down the hallway. “Well,” he told Cas, ”you look like shit.”

Cas gave him his best, I can smite you even without my grace look. “Charming.” He headed off down the hallway towards their bedroom and Dean followed. “How did Mrs. Landis take the news?”

Dean sucked in a breath. “Uh, 'bout how you'd expect, I guess. Told her a bear had gotten to her son, but it was all taken care of now. Not much else to say.”

The mother had sobbed and thanked him. He’d done a piss poor job of comforting her and left with an all-too-familiar sick feeling in his stomach; they hadn’t done enough, they could never save everyone.

“And you?” Cas asked, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at Dean as he pushed open the door to their bedroom. “Are you alright?”

Dean started to nod, say fine, but he knew Cas would see straight through the lie. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he shrugged, dropping his hands into his lap. “Just shook up. Coulda been a bad one.”

Cas nodded as he pulled off his trenchcoat, the edges bloody and muddy. “We’re all safe. You don’t have to torture yourself thinking about what could’ve happened.”

Dean shut his eyes, took a deep breath. “I know.” Easier said than done.

He heard Cas’s footsteps, then felt Cas’ fingers on his cheek and tilted his head into his palm. Breathed in and out. Cas smelled like blood and guts and sweat, not a particularly pleasant combination, but his hand was warm and his other hand was carding through his hair and, shit, that felt nice.

“Go to sleep,” Cas said quietly. “You need rest.”

Dean nodded and Cas kissed the top of his head. He left to take a shower and Dean scrubbed his hands over his face.

Fuck, this hunt had been a close one. Closer than they’d had in a long time.

Dropping his hands, his eyes settled on the weighted blanket that Cas had left folded on the chair at the desk, a silent plea for him to use it. He rolled his eyes. Anxious, his ass.

He started to pull the covers back on the bed, but the thought of lying down with the hunt running on repeat through his head was less than appealing. Cas’ trenchcoat hung bloody on the wall, and Dean clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking, adrenaline and nerves still rushing through him.

Alright, maybe a little anxious.

With a glance at the door to convince himself Cas would be in the shower for a little while longer, he grabbed the blanket, brought it to their bed.

Getting under the covers, he draped the blanket over himself and lay down, shifting to get comfortable. Once settled, he stared up at the ceiling and waited for the miracle blanket to work its wonders. How much money had Cas spent on this shit? He really had to hide the credit cards.

He shifted again, the mattress creaking, and dropped back with a huff. Not that he didn’t appreciate Cas trying to help, but a twenty-pound blanket wasn’t what he needed. What he needed was a full night of sleep and a blow job and an all-expenses-paid trip to Cancún. His nose was itchy, his knee was bruised, his back was fucked up from getting thrown against a gravestone, Sam had already found another case in Albuquerque, and, fuck, he was just so damn tired.

Shutting his eyes, he forced himself to breathe through the sensation of his chest tightening. He could feel the blanket rise and fall with every deliberate breath, and he counted like Sam had taught him years ago when he’d woken with a panic attack—breathe in for seven seconds, hold for four, let out for eight.

Don’t think about what could’ve happened. We’re all safe. Cas is safe, Sam is safe. I’m safe.

His heartbeat slowly settled. The blanket’s weight was strangely comforting, warm, trapping him under the covers. Forced to stay still, he felt his limbs slowly relax into the mattress, the tenseness in his shoulders dissipating, his back easing and hands curling loosely along the sheets.

Okay. Shit. Maybe there was something to this weighted blanket thing. His mind grew hazier as his thoughts began to wander, and he found himself drifting off to sleep when the bedroom door creaked open and startled his eyes open.

“You’re using it,” Cas whispered excitedly, standing in the doorway. “Are you relaxed?”

“Fuck off,” Dean told him. He would’ve flipped him off, but that would require lifting his hand out from under the blanket and he was too—dammit, Cas was right—relaxed to move.

“I knew it would be perfect,” Cas said, sounding too triumphant. Shutting the door softly, he got into bed next to him—well, tried to. He shoved at the blanket encroaching on his side of the bed. “Dean, move over.”

“Nope.” Dean shut his eyes again. “Reap what you have sown.”

Grumbling, Cas turned off the light and got under the covers with more rustling and movement than necessary. Finally, he settled down. The bunker hummed, the heating running, the pipes in the walls creaking as a shower turned on down the hallway. The blanket heavy on top of him, Dean began to fall asleep again.

“Are you really gonna keep that on all night?” Cas asked, disturbing the quiet.

“Yup.”

Cas huffed and Dean could only keep up the ruse for a few more seconds before lifting the edge of the blanket. “Come on, get under.”

Sliding over, Cas got underneath, and they laid side by side, pressed against each other. Their fingers brushed, and Dean crooked a finger around Cas’ thumb.

“This is nice,” Cas commented, voice quiet. “I’m glad it’s helping.”

“Mhm.” He was starting to think he should’ve bought one of these things a long time ago. He hadn’t realized how strung out he was before until now, all the tension in his body slipping away.

Cas shifted onto his side and Dean blinked open his eyes to look at him. “I guess I was right all along, wasn’t I?”

“Don’t push it.” He caught Cas’ smile in the dark and elbowed him on principle before shifting over to kiss him. Then he tugged at Cas’ arm and turned onto his side, prompting Cas to press close against his back and wrap an arm around him.

He smiled, eyes falling shut at the warm press of the blanket and Cas’ body around his. Now he was relaxed.

tag list:

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @arcticfox007  @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat @harmonyhelms @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @theangelwiththewormstache @confusedisaster @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @celestialcastiel

let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list :)

[tryingmydarndest]

Thank You (Luka Couffaine x Reader)

Summary (Part 1/probably 3): The author goes on a bit of a tangent about how Y/N goes on a bit of a tangent about Viperion. Who may just have a little, big ol' crush on them?

Tags: -not enough actual relationship -fluff -but like, a weird sprinkling of angst that I didn't plan on right at the end???

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Inspired by this fic by @seriously-sirius-black <3. Luka? OOC? Idk, probably, I don’t write fanfic. But I am actually kinda proud of how well Alya turned out. Writing this made me realize how much of a mom friend I apparently headcanon her as. I wrote this gender-and-as-everything-else-neutral as I can make it (lemme know if you see ways I can improve, tho idk how much more fanfic I'll even be writing). Also, I freakin' RAMBLE and overuse italics, but ya get what ya get and ya don't gotta fret. Ooh, important note for future parts (if i write them) - this is a kinda!au where the miraculous users keep their miraculous. also if I had a nickel for every time I get awkwardly specific about the placement of both of a character’s hands I’d have TWO nickels. Happy reading!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Part I - Paris's Cutiest Heroes

The look currently on Marinette’s face as she sputtered out a response was priceless, “Cat Noir? Cat Noir!? What makes you think I’d find Cat Noir attractive at all? And- and- HIM- the cutest superhero! Ridiculous!”

“Utterly ridiculous?”

“Nice one, Alya”

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” you gave Alya a high five on your way to your seat next to Juleka and Rose on the couch facing Marinette and Alya. A sunny Friday after school was the perfect place for Kitty Section and their entourage to hang out. Unfortunately without Ivan and Mylène, seeing as their anniversary called for a private celebration. After pushing a couple couches onto the deck of The Liberty, Alya had predictably started talking about Paris's resident hero team. Today, she chose to ask everyone who they deemed the cutest, and she made sure to jump on Marinette's... interesting response, “And girl, he has the same silky golden hair and dreamy emerald eyes as Adrien Agreste. What’s utterly ridiculous is you freaking out and dodging every time we bring up superheroes!”

The designated snack-boy, Luka, walked out precariously carrying three bowls of goodies for everyone, “Alright, I got more popcorn. Sorry, but looks like we’re out of cheese flavoring, Y/N”

“Oh... that’s fine. I honestly wasn’t expecting it since I forgot to ask,” your free hand not reaching for the bowl rubbed the back of your neck, “but thanks for remembering.”

“Oh, um yeah- Always," is it creepy to remember something so specific? Someone as nice as Y/N wouldn't be interested in some creep. Ugh. Luka took a seat with his own bowl after passing Alya and Marinette theirs. He ended up next to you on the floor, leaning against the arm of the couch, dangerously close to touching your legs.

Rose reached for the popcorn as she interjected, “You know, Alya does have a point. So Marinette, why don’t you just tell us who you think the cutest superhero is, if you don’t like us guessing?”

Somehow Marinette’s face went even paler as she spoke, “What- I mean, I don’t- I haven’t thought- Wha- what about Y/N? Why aren’t you interrogating them?”

Alya crossed her arms, “Because Y/N says the same thing about the same hero every day. Just watch. Ahem, Y/N, care to weigh in on the cuteness level of our lovely Parisian superheroes?”

You looked up from the bowl you had stolen back from Rose with wide eyes, "Hey! Okay, no, that is not fair! Besides, what is our criteria for 'cute'? I mean... Are we going just by physical characteristics? Is costume a factor? What about the animal they're representing, could our opinion of that make this whole thing unfair? And cuteness is so subjective anyway... Why are we even reducing these amazing and honorable superheroes to just their looks? I mean we could be talking about skill, or their powers or power lev-"

"-And your answer would be exactly the same. Seriously, are you done trying- and might I add, failing- to talk yourself out of this one yet? Or should I just read the article you wrote for the Ladyblog?"

"You said you deleted that!"

Luka had perked his head up at your initial fumbling response and turned to you when he spoke, "You wrote an article? That's pretty cool."

You rubbed your face to try and distract yourself from the burning embarrassment, "Umm, yeah. But it was terrible and extremely not. worth. publishing." You hoped the glare you sent the girl in question was enough to scare her into deleting it on the spot, or to at least lie about it, "So Alya kindly deleted it, right?"

Sitting up with a smug look and crossed arms severely lowered your faith that she'd keep quiet. "A good journalist archives everything. Especially something as juicy as one of her besties going on for five thousand words about how dreamy the great Viperion is," dramatically fake-fainting into Marinette's lap, Alya could barely finish before bursting out in laughter. Of course, quickly followed by the others joining in to varying degrees. Juleka and Rose happily giggled to themselves, Marinette looked more relieved that the heat was off her, and Luka seemed to be shocked, or maybe just holding back to see how you were taking this.

Horribly. Horribly embarrassed would describe how you were taking this conversation. You sat there stock-still as you hoped that none of the others could hear your heart's desperate attempts to pound its way out of your chest. That's certainly all you could hear, at least until Alya's voice brought you out of it, "Hey, it's fine," she made her way over to sit next to you as she continued, "We all have our little hero crushes. That's why I bring it up all the time, to show you that it's totally normal! I mean, we all know how I could go on about Carapace for days," Alya gestured for the others to continue, and used her other hand to try and comfort you.

"Well, I find Ladybug to be just absolutely adorable and so kind.... oh it just makes me so happy knowing she's keeping all of Paris safe," Rose added softly.

Juleka brushed a strand of hair aside as she spoke, "Rena Rouge is super mysterious, pretty rad in my opinion."

Alya was rubbing your back like the mom friend she is to try and help encourage you, "See? Super normal, so go ahead and release all this pent up Viperion energy that I know you have. Maybe it'll encourage Marinette here to finally join in the fun!" Alya stuck her tongue out at her best friend, who responded promptly by smashing her face into a pillow.

You just sighed, "I mean- it’s- it can't just-'' were you supposed to just get over it all just like that? Well, at least the embarrassment was wearing off, maybe you could just entertain her for a bit, "Well- um, you see.... HisHairJustLooksReallySoftAnd- you know what. Nope. Can't do anymore of this. Yep- that's all you're getting out of me!" This time when everyone started giggling, you were able to comfortably join them. It was a nice feeling.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A nice evening chilling out with your friends was always welcome, especially with the rising number of akumatizations making that less possible. But the night had come to a close. Alya and Marinette went home, Juleka was walking Rose back herself, and Luka and you had volunteered to clean up. Luka stopped drying the cup in his hand for a minute as he looked at you, “Um, I know it might not be my place, but I want you to know that you don’t have to be embarrassed about the whole... Viperion thing.” God, how am I supposed to take the news that MY crush has a crush on.... Sort of me? Am I supposed to count it as me at all?

“Oh, um. Yeah, thanks. I think I’m over the embarrassment now that it’s out. I don’t know, it’s just that a lot of people think it’s weird since he’s kind of a new hero,” how are you supposed to explain this to him? That you kept such a non-issue secret from him, especially without getting suspiciously defensive about it. “And then people use that to try and say that I only like him for his looks..... And that’s not it! I don’t know, it’s kind of.... A lot? To explain, that is.” This was not going well.

“Oh... Well, what is it? That you like about him, I guess.”

This was so not going well. But he was waiting for a response so... “Uh, well I guess it did kinda start..... that way.... but then I started doing research. I learned about his power and saw videos of his fights. He’s really good! Especially for being so new, which kinda goes into why his power makes me like him so much.” Shit. Rambling, I’m just talking and talking and I need to stop. But how am I supposed to change the subject now? And now Luka’s sitting down, and he seems so invested. Why does this have to happen to me?

“What do you mean by that?”

Luka’s voice kindly shuts your little thought-spiral in its tracks. What were you saying? Oh, Viperion’s powers! You can talk about this, you know this. Just keep talking, at least he seems interested in it, “Well, you know how he can go back and redo the last couple of minutes?” Luka nodded, “Well, we always see the time that worked out. Us civilians get to keep going from the one time it all went right. Just imagine all the times he failed, all the times he couldn’t get it right. It could be dozens, maybe even hundreds of times! He must get so discouraged at some point, I mean I know I would.... I guess I didn’t really think about it at first, but.... but, I doubt I could keep that determination, and I’m so glad Paris has a hero who can, and does.”

Silence. Why was it so quiet? Oh no, he thinks I’m weird. He must think-

“All of this from ‘his hair looks soft’?”

“Hey! You can’t tell me not to be embarrassed, then make fun of me! That’s against the rules!”

Luka chuckled as he said, “Against what rules, exactly?”

“The Rules Of Best Friendship, duh!”

“And who exactly said you were my best friend?”

“Well... your loss, I guess. Now you won’t get an invitation when I plan Rose and Juleka’s wedding,” you brushed off his offended glare as you took the seat next to him.

“She’s my sister.”

“She’d take my side.”

I’d take your side, too. I will always take your side. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

A/N the sequel: I am super bad at finishing things, but I really wanna keep motivated to finish this (like I have a full, probably 3 part, plan for this). If you guys want to help, shoot me a message and I'll send you a link to the google doc I'm writing this on. Feel free to leave a little comment (pls be kind, obviously) and see my writing process! Idk, would any of you guys be interested in that? Would you just get annoyed at having already read the thing before I post it?

[caramelcal]

Request:  Luke x reader? Luke tries to distract reader throughout the day (like he did to Julie) especially when she tries to talk to Nick? Which reader gets mad about and starts to ignore Luke (because she’s been trying to distract herself from her growing feels for him) and he eventually poofs into he room to talk to her about it?

Word Count: 2k

a/n: hi! sorry this took so long, instead of sitting down and working on one fic i’ve been working on five at the same time. incredibly stressful, i’ll try not to do that again lol especially considering it meant it took me ages to write them all...also someone pls give me something to name this lmao ty, and thank you for the request! 

also just in case anyone asks i will not be making a part 2 sorry ! :(

disclaimer: I do not condone the use of my work/writing without my permission. The only place this has been posted is on my (rosemoonmist) tumblr account. This has not been posted on any other platform either. If you see any plagiarism of my work please let me know! <3 People work hard on their fics, so don’t steal them ty.

Masterlist

“So y/n I was thinking,” Luke starts, popping up out of thin air beside you whilst you walk along the corridors. At his unannounced presence beside you, you jump and let out a surprised squeal, gather attention from other students.

Looking around, you notice all of their stares and a blush coats your cheeks. They couldn’t see Luke, you knew that, so they thought you jumped at nothing and your squeal definitely didn’t help. Your head ducks down in embarrassment, trying to avoid the gazes of the students as you start to hurry to your locker.

“Y/n! I’m trying to talk to you here? Hello!” Luke shouts, following your quick, embarrassed walk to your locker. He leans against the locker beside you, arms crossed over his chest, “Y/n, stop ignoring me please.”  

“You know Luke, normal people don’t sneak up on others so you definitely shouldn’t,” You mutter quietly, trying not to attract any more attention from those near you. You had already embarrassed yourself enough, you definitely didn’t need to be caught talking to yourself.

Luke watches you as you get your textbooks from your locker with soft, hazel eyes, shrugging his shoulders before he speaks again, “I don’t see what’s wrong with coming to share my ideas with you.”

“When you practically ambush me in the middle of the halls and embarrass me in front of my classmates then there’s something wrong,” You whisper harshly towards the teenage ghost, who gives you a playful smile in return.

“Don’t worry about it, I think your little scream was cute,” Luke tries to playfully comfort you, but you only end up more embarrassed. Ducking your head, you clear your throat, not meeting Luke’s eyes, “Plus, if I don’t talk to you then who is? Flynn and Julie aren’t here.”

“I have friends other than Julie and Flynn, you know,” You replied with a small smile, rolling your eyes at the boy whose eyes go slightly wider in amusement.

Leaning closer to you, he whispers, “Yeah, one of ‘ems behind you right now.”

With that he pulls back, his amused smirk going wider when he sees your eyes widen in panic. At least he’s getting some enjoyment out of this because you certainly weren’t. It was almost as if you were unfrozen, whipping around after several moments of doing nothing and just standing still to see him there.

“Heyyy y/n,” He says, trying to mask the slightly judgmental look he is giving you but you notice. At this rate, you just want the ground to swallow you whole, melt into the floor or just disappear.

“Nick! Hi,” You say, feeling your throat close up as you look at him. You try to keep your eyes on him, but they quickly stray when Luke appears behind him.

“You alright, L/N?” Nick asks, looking at you strangely with concern etched into his voice.

Waving your hand about weirdly, you nod your head wildly, trying to act natural but very much not. Luke glances at you with a judgmental glance, one that he wants you to see as you laugh, “Of course I am! Why would I not be?”

“I don’t know, you’re just acting a little strange.”

“Me? I’m always strange,” You try to wave it off, hoping that soon enough this nightmare would be over and you could go back home. This has to be the most embarrassing day to ever exist, for anyone. You would give anything just to disappear right now.

“Uh oh,” Luke’s voice sounds from behind Nick, his voice teasing as he looked at you with a smile, “has someone got a crush on Nick?”

“What! No!”

Your eyes snapped over to Luke, his smile growing wider. You know that he’s messing with you, but you couldn’t let him believe you had a crush on Nick of all people. No way. You already liked someone else, Luke, so to let Luke believe that you liked Nick was not going to happen. Your eyes hesitantly look back towards Nick, where he looks at you with a confused look.

You know that you can’t explain you were talking to a ghost, he’d think you were even crazier than you actually were. Giving him an awkward laugh you rub behind your neck, “Sorry, Flynn is across the hall and is trying to be distracting.”

“Flynn isn’t even in scho-”

“Sorry, Nick! Nice talking to you but I gotta go, bye!” Cutting Nick off quickly, you wave your hand before whirling around, walking in the opposite direction. A pair of shoes caught themselves up with you, and you knew who it was. The black and white vans were kind of a giveaway.

“I think that went well.”

“Shut up, Luke.”

. . .

Thankfully, your bad and embarrassing day didn’t get much worse. You managed to get through your first classes without Luke trying to annoy you anymore, which meant that you didn’t embarrass yourself even more and when it came to lunch you holed yourself up in the library. Being in the library meant that there was no one around to embarrass yourself in front of.

Your last class rolled around and you were trying to get your head down and do your work so that you could go home and forget that this day ever happened. It wasn’t going to get much worse than it already is considering the day was practically over, so you were just waiting for the time to pass by.

“Y/n, psst,” You hear a voice whisper from in front of you, making you look up. Maybe you spoke too soon, because there Luke is, sitting on the desk in front of yours, that was thankfully empty.

You knew that Luke just liked to talk to people other than Reggie and Alex from time-to-time and you were normally a good option but not in school. And especially not after the embarrassment that happened earlier on in the morning; that’s why you ignored him.

However, it seemed that Luke really wanted your attention and was willing to do anything to get it. Whether it be constantly talking to you, distracting you from doing your work, or humming new songs, he seemed to be doing anything to be annoying.

“What do you think about this one, n/n?”

Often, you were used to Luke just using your first name, so the sound of your endeared nickname falling off of his lips effortlessly caused your heart to flutter. Luke frowned a little, he knew you were listening, he could see you press your pencil down a little harder on your paper every time he spoke, almost as if you were trying to restrain yourself from answering him.

A smirk lit upon his lips, he knew exactly what to do. Jumping off of the table, he made his way over to your desk, taking the pencil out of your hand. Your eyes went wide but you knew you couldn’t make a big deal about it, imagine they seen you jumping after a floating pencil.

Looking up at Luke, you mouthed ‘Luke, put the pencil down’ with a glare, but Luke simply smirked at you. At this rate, you thought that Luke was just trying to get you grumpy. He brought the pencil down to your level to tease you but you caught onto it, tugging it closer to you.

Luke didn’t seem to want to let go, finally glad to get your attention but it shouldn’t have been a good thing, because he was just angering you even more.

Finally managing to yank the pencil off of Luke, you heard a voice whisper beside you, “Hey y/n, are you planning on actually doing any work, or are you gonna continue to cast spells with your pencil?”

The day definitely couldn’t get worse after that.

. . .

After that, you were determined to ignore Luke by any means necessary, even if he stole a pencil and let the class believe that the class was haunted. Thankfully enough, Luke realized that he shouldn’t push your buttons anymore and left you alone. On your walk home you practically wallowed in self-pity and embarrassment and found yourself swallowed in a hole of blankets and pillows watching a movie when you got into your bedroom.

You did not want to go back to school, and you found yourself dreading it more and more with each passing moment. After Luke realized how embarrassed you were the first time, he should've stopped, but he didn’t. Maybe he just liked to torture you and embarrass you in front of all of your peers.

It was a well-established thing that you liked Luke, not that he knew, of course, you knew he didn’t like you back like that. And after today, you struggled to believe he would ever see you as more; it was like he didn’t care about your feelings.

“Y/n, there you are,” Speak of the devil, “I need opinions on these new lyrics-”

“No, Luke. I’m busy.” You snap, eyes keeping on the screen. You hoped that he took the memo and stopped talking and left, but he didn’t, they never do.

Walking towards your bed, Luke sat beside you and grabs the remote that was tucked in between two blankets, holding it up to you, “No you aren’t, you’re only watching a movie. I’m sure you could stop it for two seconds.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You reply sassily, reaching for more popcorn that sat in the small bowl in front of you.

“What’s up with you?” Luke asks, his voice slightly annoyed as he looks at you. He seems confused like he’s completely oblivious to everything that happened today.

“What do you think is up with me?” You ask, finally turning to look at him, e/c eyes meeting the hazel ones you were so fond of.

Luke stares back at you with the same intensity, eyes looking over your blanket-covered figure before realization dawned on his face. Yet, with the realization, annoyance seemed to follow closely behind, “Is this because I embarrassed you in front of your crush?”

“I don’t have a crush on Nick!” Your voice is slightly louder than you had intended, but you don’t bother to apologize anyway.

Maybe you were both overreacting, and you were getting a little too defensive but you couldn’t help it. Luke didn’t seem to listen to you, you had already told him you didn’t like Nick, couldn’t he just listen to you for once in his life?

“Why are you shouting? I’m just asking a question,” Luke says, his voice calm. You had never expected the day where Luke would be the voice of reason between the two of you but here we are.

Eyes looking back up to meet Luke’s, a frown falls onto your face. Sighing, you feel guilt pool in your stomach, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

“It’s alright, y/n. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you in the first place. I’m really sorry,” You’re pretty sure that’s the first time you have ever heard Luke apologize to anyone, and you’re surprised at how sincere he sounded. Maybe Luke does care about your feelings more than you expected him to.

Soon enough, the calm and comfortable atmosphere you have created in the room because uncomfortable as you both sit in a silence. You don’t know what to say, or what to do but thankfully, Luke saves you from that.

“Listen, I- uh,” Luke hesitates to speak, feeling nervous when your attention is turned back to him. His gaze looks down at the bed before glancing back up, looking very fidgety under your gaze, “I’m sorry for what I did this morning. I don’t know I just seen Nick, and I thought you guys liked each other and I didn’t like it so I embarrassed you in front of him and that’s not okay.”

“You didn’t like it?” You ask with a smirk, quoting what Luke said as your smirk goes a bit wider. Noticing your words, Luke’s eyes go a little bit wider as he starts to stutter but you quickly end his stuttering, “Were you jealous, Patterson?”

It takes him a few moments to respond, your full body turning towards him when you begin to tease him. You had hoped that he was going to get embarrassed in front of you but that doesn’t seem to be the case. 

“Maybe I am, what are you gonna do about it?”

[dixonsmonroe]

Near To You

Summary: Daryl and Rick had everything, until they didn’t. But when Daryl meets Jesus, he learns that there are always second chances when it comes to love.

Pairing: Daryl x Rick, Daryl x Jesus

Word count: 4k

Author’s notes: i actually found this in my google docs other day and apparently i wrote this 2 years ago so enjoy!

Warning: mentions of smut (18+), fluff, pining, canon level violence, i will never stop loving desus

Daryl hadn’t taken kindly to Rick right away. He didn’t like him when they were still at the camp and Rick had a gun to Daryl’s head, and told him in his best ‘good-cop’ voice, “We don’t kill the living.” It was like that for a while; anytime Rick started off on his pep talks, Daryl wanted to knock him in the teeth. The longer Merle was gone, though, the pep talks became less annoying and even kind of comforting.

After they left the CDC and ended up at the farm, Daryl still kept his distance, but did whatever Rick needed him to. He actually enjoyed being around him, and working in a group as a team. He felt useful around the farm; it was work he knew how to do. He also noticed the only time he was ever annoyed at Rick anymore was when Shane was around. Shane would make some dumbass remark, Daryl would antagonize him, and Rick would keep them from fighting. Shane would leave and Rick would just look apologetically at Daryl, who would shrug it off and assure everything was fine.

Nothing had ever happened until the prison. They had been there for a while, and after Lori died, Rick had started to come back to them bit by bit. He was currently in a peaceful farming phase, which was plentiful for the group, but still a little out of character.

Rick met Daryl in the guard tower for first watch shifts after everyone went to bed.

“The place is lookin’ good,” Rick looked out over the whole prison, over the crops they had grown and the reinforcements around the walls. “We really made this place home.”

“Took a lotta work, but it was worth it.” Daryl replied, smoking his cigarette, “You got us all here.”

“Couldn’t have done it without my right hand,” he smiled. Daryl stifled a grin and looked away, trying not to let Rick see him blush.

They had been together like this a thousand times, just the two of them, hanging out. They were best friends, they were family. But sometimes Rick would laugh a certain way or he’d get all focused and solemn or he would push his hair out of his face and Daryl would freeze up. Rick was a strong leader, and a good friend. He had Daryl’s full loyalty.

“How’ve you been doing?” he asked.

“Much better. Rick nodded. “I know I lost it a little bit, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’m figuring things out.”

“You need anything, lemme know.”

Rick stared out the window in silence for a few moments. “There might be something.”

Daryl glanced at Rick, who was now looking at him, albeit a bit nervously.

“What’s that?”

Rick looked hesitant now, like he was mentally backing out of whatever he was going to say. He leaned closer to Daryl still, until their hands were touching. Daryl glanced at Rick out of the corner of his eye. He could feel Rick’s body heat so incredibly close, and it made him shiver. Rick finally took his hand and held it as they looked out across the yard. Daryl fought back a grin and gave Rick’s hand a squeeze, leaning against him.

Nothing more had happened until about two weeks later. In those two weeks there had still been plenty of secret hand holding, stolen smiles and glances, the like. But one day after an especially tolling run, Daryl had made his decision. It had been rough out there; it was him, Rick, and Maggie, the car had stalled and they almost got taken out by a hoard. Daryl watched Rick almost get bit and he felt like he was about to lose everything he cared about. He had thrown the walker off of him after stabbing it and helped Rick up. He patted Daryl’s shoulder and nodded towards the car.

The moment they knew they were completely alone back at the prison, Daryl kissed Rick. The best part was Rick kissed him back, as if this was normal, as if it was how it had always been. Rick’s hand went to Daryl’s cheek and they leaned their foreheads together.

“I—“ Daryl started but Rick cut him off with another kiss.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I wanted to do it first, but I couldn’t find the right time.”

“Me too.” Daryl replied. “Figured you almost dyin’ was as good a reason as any.”

Rick chuckled, leaning back a bit, thumb running over Daryl’s cheekbone.

That was how it was after that. They didn’t tell anyone, not Glenn, not Carol, not anybody. There were nights where they would sneak off to an abandoned cell or hallway and just take their time, take in every bit of each other.

One night was different. Rick still had Daryl pushed up against the wall, still inside of him as they came down, slowing their breathing.

“I love you,” Rick breathed out so quietly, Daryl wasn’t sure he’d heard it right. He just turned his head around his shoulder and kissed Rick sweet and soft. Rick’s eyes were a little wide, pride and ego slowly melting away.

“I love you,” Daryl said finally. Of course he did. He always had.

It was like that for a while; sneaking off to fuck after everyone went to sleep, spending guard shifts paying attention to their job, but also pausing to make out like teenagers or just talking about everything. It was bliss Daryl had never experienced in his life, and it was with his absolute best friend.

The day the prison got broken into, Daryl left with Beth and there was no sign of Rick anywhere.

He and Beth had been through some shit, Daryl had gotten drunk and acted like a total asshole, and Beth was nothing but understanding, even though he may not have deserved it. That night, they sat on the porch of the house they had found, having a heart to heart. Beth, even with her naive nature that made Daryl have hope but also made him a little bitter. He’d never had the option to be optimistic in his life, always on high alert.

“You wanna know what I was before all this?” Daryl asked softly. “I was no one. Nothin’.”

Beth looked sad for a moment, but nodded for him to keep going.

“Until I found Rick and the group.” He continued. He had never told anyone about him and Rick, never ever. But Beth was understanding, and as much as she talked or sang or whatever, he knew he could trust her. She and Maggie felt like the younger sisters he never had.

“Rick and I—“ he took a breath before he spilled all the things he had never told anyone. “We were together. We’ve always been close, always been his right hand. But at some point it was more than that.”

Beth grinned dreamily. “Do you love him?”

He nodded, a small smile on his face thinking about it. Everything was shit right now, but despite everything he’d said when he yelled at her earlier, he knew they had to find Rick and their family.

“We’ll find them again,” Beth reassured. “We’re going to.”

He had lost Beth. He was alone, until he found the Claimers. He missed Beth, he missed having someone he trusted and who kept him sane. These guys were brutal, they were guys he knew not to cross.

The night they had found the guy Joe was looking for, Daryl heard a voice and immediately knew who he was.

Daryl heard Joe threatening Rick, so he stepped out of the shadows.

“Joe!” he said, causing him to turn towards Daryl. “You gotta let these guys go. They’re good people.”

He made quick eye contact with Rick, careful not to give anything away but screaming on the inside because Rick looked both terrified and relieved to see him. Michonne looked angry, but also so fucking scared at the same time.

He argued with Joe, he really tried.

“Hey, you want blood. I get it.” Daryl put his crossbow down and held his arms out. “Take it from me, man.”

The blows started almost immediately. The other Claimers just started wailing on him as hard as they could. He was praying he didn’t crack a rib or get kicked in the face or fucking die.

Joe’s voice was barely audible to him, Daryl’s heart pounding in his ears. “First, we’re gonna beat Daryl to death, then we’re gonna have the girl. Then the boy. Then I’m gonna kill you.”

Daryl knew he had to get up, he had to fight back, he had to save them. He had seen a man drag Carl out of the car and throw him on the ground, holding him down and unbuckling his belt. Oh, fuck no.

He listened to Rick plead with Joe, pleaded with him to let his son go, just let him go.

A gunshot rang through the air. The men stopped beating Daryl, and he got up to fight. It was rough, and he saw Rick stagger against the noise, and when Rick seemed almost incapable of fighting any longer, he looked Joe in the eye.

“What are you gonna do now?” Joe taunted, before Rick bit down on his neck and tore out his jugular.

Daryl couldn’t believe what he just saw, Rick unhinged and willing to do anything to protect his own.

They killed the other men, left them in the road and rested until morning.

Rick was sitting on the ground, back against the car, still covered in blood. Daryl poured a little water on a rag and handed it to him.

“We should save that to drink.” Rick said.

“You can’t see yourself, he can.” Daryl nodded toward Carl in the car. Daryl sat down next to him while he cleaned his face. “I didn’t know what they were.” he said sadly.

“How’d you end up with them?”

Daryl looked down at his lap. “I was with Beth. We got out together. I was with her for a while.”

There was a pause of silence until Rick asked if she was dead. Daryl shook his head and said she was just gone. He told him how he ended up with the Claimers, how they were looking for some guy, how he’d almost left them, but didn’t.

“That’s when I saw it was you three, right when you saw me.” His voice was sad and low. “I didn’t know what they could do.”

“It’s not on you, Daryl.” Rick took his hand. “You bein’ back here with us now, that’s everything.”

This was the first bit of physical contact they’d had since the prison. Daryl finally felt warm, even with how much he hurt after being beaten half to death, Rick’s hand on his was everything he needed right now.

“I love you,” Rick said quietly. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

Daryl nodded, and gave his hand a squeeze. Rick said it, but Daryl could tell he was still shaken up.

“Hey, what you did last night; Anybody would’ve done that.” he said reassuringly.

“No, not that.” Rick replied. Now he looked like he was trying to hold himself together. Rick had gotten violent before, but it was always to protect someone. His family was in danger and he saved them. “It ain’t all of it, but that’s me.”

Daryl knew how sad he looked, but he couldn’t help it. “You’re a good man. You protect your own,” Daryl lowered his voice a bit. “You’re the person I fell in love with, no matter what you do.”

Rick leaned into him until his head was resting on Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl kissed the top of his head and squeezed his hand.

They made it through Terminus. They made it through Grady hospital. They had most of the group back.

They lost Beth.

Daryl barely spoke the entire time they walked towards Washington. His family was there for him, and gave him enough space at the same time. Now that they had more people, Rick was busy leading all of them. Daryl knew it wasn’t his fault, but they began to drift apart. Things were rough, until they found Alexandria. Rick became constable, and had been making friends --and enemies-- all over. Most people respected him, but Daryl felt so out of place.

Rick had spent two nights at Daryl’s house, making sure to not draw attention to themselves. They had sex that night, but it was different. Rick was there with him, of course, but it almost felt sad. Like it was the last time they would be like this. They fit together so well before, but after all this time apart and everything they went through, they were different people.

The next night, they didn’t even fuck. They physically slept together, but that was it. Daryl had been wanting to have this conversation for a while, but he obviously didn’t want to do it after sex.

“Are you good?” Daryl asked as they lay next to each other.

Rick had his elbow on the pillow and rested his face in his hand as he turned towards Daryl. “I’m good. Are you?”

Daryl shrugged. “Feels like things are different. With us.”

Rick nodded solemnly. “I’ve had a lot goin’ on. I’m sorry I haven’t made time for us.”

Daryl shook his head. “Don’t feel bad. You’re doing so much good for everyone.” Daryl sat up then, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I know you’ve been eyeing Jessie. I noticed it almost the moment we got here.”

Rick sat up and put his hand on his shoulder. “I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. Nothing has ever happened with her.”

“I know,” Daryl said sadly. “But I get it. I ain’t the last person on earth.”

“Daryl, I know there’s still people out there, but I made the choice to be with you, you’re not just some guy.” Rick said firmly, but Daryl heard his voice falter. “You’re not just some option.”

“I love you,” Daryl said quietly. “I’ve always loved you and I always will. But I don’t want to hold you back. I’ll always be here for you when you need me, I’ll always do anything for you.”

Rick’s voice cracked. “But?”

Daryl finally looked at him and took in the heartbreak on his face. “But I need to let you go. I want you to be happy, and I’m not what makes you happy anymore.”

Rick looked like the wind had been knocked out of him, but after a moment Daryl could tell he was done denying the truth.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I never wanted to make you feel like you weren’t important. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Daryl took Rick into his arms and kissed the top of his head. “At least stay tonight?”

“Of course,” Rick said. “Anything for you.”

It took a few weeks before Daryl’s heart stopped feeling like it was going to fall into his stomach every time he saw Rick. He knew Rick had kissed Jessie, and he knew that it never turned into anything more. He stayed on the edges of Rick’s life, trying to keep a little bit of distance so he didn’t die from pining after his lost love.

When they did end up going on a run together, it felt like old times. Not like nothing romantic had ever happened, but that comfort he felt whenever he was with Rick. He missed his best friend, and he was starting to be okay with that being all they were.

That’s when they met Jesus. Daryl was annoyed with him immediately, but he fought back this nagging feeling of attraction. He didn’t trust the guy, and he certainly didn’t want him around his home. But little by little, Jesus started to grow on him. Before Daryl knew it, they were working together a lot more, and they worked together well. He hadn’t felt this way ever; his feelings for Rick were completely different. Jesus was not only charismatic and caring, but he was out and proud. Daryl had had one sexual relationship with a man who was openly gay, before everything went to shit, but it was still before Daryl had come out. He pushed his feelings to the back of his mind, not wanting to think about what another heartbreak would do to him at this point.

The Hilltop was bustling with activity. Everyone was doing some sort of work; laundry or farming or building something. Daryl was making new arrows on the Barrington House porch, and Rick was beside him lacing his boots and waiting for Maggie to come by. She and Rick had some sort of business to discuss between the two communities.

“First nice day we’ve had in a while,” Rick said, pushing his curls out of his face. “You goin’ hunting before the party tonight?”

“Yeah, gonna try and bring back something big.” Daryl nodded. “I don’t know what you mean, though. ‘S fuckin’ hot.”

Rick laughed. “Maybe if you didn’t wear a leather vest everywhere.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and went back to his arrows. He eventually felt Rick nudge him, and when he looked up he saw Jesus and Maggie down the street walking towards them.

“Y’know, I think he likes you.” Rick said.

Daryl looked at him and scoffed. Rick was trying to wingman for him now, great.

Daryl looked back in Jesus’ direction. He did actually have a little bit of a crush on the guy; he was a good goddamn fighter, but still a gentle, caring person. He certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes, either.

“Hey,” Jesus greeted them as they walked onto the sidewalk.

“Rick, you ready?” Maggie asked.

Rick stood up and patted Daryl on the shoulder. “Ready. Hey, Jesus, you busy today?”

Jesus shrugged. “No, not really. Do you need something?”

“Yeah,” Rick said, the smile undeniable in his voice. Daryl knew exactly what was about to happen, fuck. “Daryl’s goin’ huntin’ today. Trying to have enough food for the party tonight and then some, couldn’t hurt to have an extra pair of hands.”

Jesus smiled. “Yeah, absolutely.”

Rick nodded and walked off the porch and off with Maggie.

“Bye, Daryl!” Maggie threw Daryl a smirk over her shoulder. This was a goddamn conspiracy, Daryl knew it.

“So, when were you planning on heading out?” Jesus asked.

Daryl cleared his throat and pushed his hair out of his face. “Probably twenty minutes? Gotta finish these arrows and then I’m ready.”

“Cool, I’ll grab my stuff and meet you back here?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, that works.”

Jesus walked toward his trailer and Daryl watched after him the whole way. Jesus definitely liked him as a friend at least, they had started staying closer to each other during missions, often opting to work together. They made a good team, and Rick definitely noticed, putting them together on jobs a lot more recently.

It had been a good hunt, Daryl and Jesus hauled back a deer and a few squirrels. When they were done there was about an hour before the party started. They started walking toward Barrington House so Daryl could get changed and Jesus and Maggie could catch up on the day.

“Y’know, I’m kind of excited for tonight.” Jesus said optimistically. “I never used to be the party type, but this feels more...I don’t know, comfortable, I guess.”

Daryl nodded. “Parties are different when they’re with family.”

“I don’t know, you seem like a total party animal.” Jesus nudged him and Daryl smirked back at him.

They walked into the house and said hi to Rick in the foyer.

Jesus started heading up the stairs and turned to Daryl. “I’ll find you at the party later.”

“See you then.” Daryl said back, and watched Jesus disappear into Maggie’s office.

“Hey, you’re gonna get drool on the floor if you don’t stop now,” Rick teased. Daryl snapped out of it and turned toward him.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Daryl huffed.

“Yeah, you do.” Rick smiled. “I know that look on you, Daryl. Remember?”

He shook his head and laughed under his breath. “Shut up, Grimes.”

The party was really, really nice. Everyone was gathered around a bonfire and there were tables of food setup all around. It was homey, and full of community. Daryl leaned against a tree and looked out over the crowd.

“Hey,” Jesus walked up to him then. He looked nice with his hair down as opposed to the bun he put it in when they were hunting. Even with the bun he looked good, which annoyed Daryl to no end. You couldn’t look that good all the time, it wasn’t fair.

“Hi,” Daryl replied. “How’s it goin’?”

“Pretty good, it was nice to shower after today. It really is too hot for that trenchcoat.” Jesus shook his head.

Daryl shrugged. “Could just get a vest.”

Jesus smiled. “Maybe. Yours does look pretty nice.”

“I bet it’d look nice on you,” Daryl smirked. “Too bad we’ll never know.”

“Harsh,” Jesus nudged him.

They joined the party once more, until the kids started to go to bed. The adults stuck around for a while, and everyone was still drinking and eating and having fun. After drinking a good amount of whiskey, Daryl and Jesus had a slight buzz going on. They were laughing together, maybe even flirting a bit, which Daryl didn’t normally know how to do, but with Jesus it was just easy.

Jesus turned to him at one point, and it was like everyone else fell away. He saw Jesus look at his lips, then look away quickly.

“Wanna go drink some more at my place?” he asked. Daryl would’ve been nervous, but the liquid courage helped with that. He was pretty sure he knew what this meant, why Jesus wanted to be alone with him.

“Yeah, I do.”

Back at the trailer, Jesus got two cups and poured some more whiskey for them. He handed Daryl a glass and took a sip of his own. They sat on the couch, Jesus sitting against the arm so he could face Daryl.

“That was pretty fun,” Jesus said. “Felt...normal.”

“Whatever that means,” Daryl sipped his drink. “But yeah, it was nice.”

“I’m glad you’re around more,” Jesus said after a few moments. “It’s really nice getting to see you.”

Daryl blushed and drank a good amount of his whiskey and put it on the table.

“I like bein’ around.” Daryl’s voice was low and gravelly, the alcohol relaxing him. “I like bein’ around you.”

Jesus was the one to blush now, but he seemed a little more confident. They were sitting closer together now, one of them could easily lean in to close the space. Jesus did, after a second of contemplating, and his lips were as soft as Daryl had imagined. Daryl pushed back a bit more, deepening the kiss, and one of his hands instinctively went to Jesus’ hip. Jesus put his hand on the back of Daryl’s neck, holding him there. Jesus pulled away first, putting his forehead against Daryl’s as they breathed each other in.

“Thank god,” Jesus laughed under his breath. “I wasn’t sure if that was going to go well.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes at Jesus. What was that supposed to mean? Did he expect the kiss to be bad?

“No! I mean—“ he put his hand on Daryl’s cheek and looked sincerely into his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if you liked me back. I didn’t know if you’d want me to kiss you or if it was going to freak you out.”

Daryl couldn’t fight the small grin on his face. “I’m glad you did. I didn’t know if you wanted it.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page now.” Jesus smiled, and for the first time in a long time, Daryl felt like something was going right.

[wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl]

Dad’s Best Friend

Summary: Your Dad’s Best Friend, Lee Bodecker, is a close family friend who helps and protects you at all costs. But all he is is a family friend, right?

Warnings: Mentions of a Peeping Tom, Smut, Daddy Kink, choking, perverted comments, maybe slight dub-con?

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing on tumblr, so I hope you enjoy! This story is also on my ao3, but I saw how much love Lee was getting on tumblr, so I decided to make a blog for fan fictions. Please be gentle with criticism, this is my first time writing smut. However, don’t be afraid to voice your opinion! This is a modern day AU. Lee is soft in this one, there are no dark elements. If you squint maybe it’s dub-con, but I don’t see it that way. However, I added it to the warnings just in case. If there are any more warnings I need to add just let me know and I happily will. This is a learning experience for me! If this receives enough love, I left it open for it to make it a mini-series, or maybe do more drabbles about it. I hope you enjoy!

________________________________________

(Not my gif)

You moved to Knockemstiff when you were 6 years old. Your mother, a local politician, got hired in the little town of Ohio 15 years ago. She began working as a town council member, eventually working her way up to being the mayor.

Being the mayor’s daughter had some perks. You always got complimentary food at the local diners. The business owners wanted to get in good with your mother, for whatever reason. You weren’t sure what your mother had to offer that could help them, but food is food and free pancakes are free pancakes. You never really understood politics yourself. You understood federal level and a little bit of state, but local politics (although some claim it to be the most important) bored the shit out of you.

You even knew the town police. You grew close to Deputy Howser. He was a little older than you, but you got along well and frequented drinking together on the weekends with some of your other friends. Your father, however, got close with the Sheriff. Your father was a stay-at-home dad, your mother bringing in all the money you could ever need. They both didn’t mind, and it was easier growing up to have at least one parent at home. Although Sheriff Bodecker didn’t think being a stay-at-home dad exuded masculinity, he was still your fathers’ friend, nonetheless. They bonded over shitty beer, sports, and candy.

The Sheriff, although you didn’t hang out with him, was another authority figure in your life that you always had to worry about. You couldn’t go out with friends. You knew this because of one mishap you had with your friends. Everyone was home from college, meaning there would be a huge party. You and your friend, Jenny, we’re only 20 at the time. You went, got extremely drunk, and the cops were called.

Of course, you had to be laying on the couch, shirt off, when Sheriff Bodecker arrived. He picked you up by your waist, bring your limp frame against his sturdy body.

“Do I need to tell your father about this darlin’?”

You whined against his chest

“Nooooo, don’t tell my daaaddddyyy”

His cock swelled at the word.

Daddy

He didn’t understand why and just tried to push it deep down.

“Well, doll, I think I can keep this secret for you. Just this once though. If I see you in this state again before you turn 21, I’m going to have to take you in. I can’t show favorites in this town.”

You looked up and smiled at him groggily

“But aren’t I your favorite, Sheriff?”

This wasn’t the only instance in when you ran into the trouble with the Sheriff. You also had a habit of smoking, and more frequently, eating illegal substances.

“Hey darlin’, you’re looking a little tired today,” he said entering your kitchen, “do you need to take a nap or somethin’?”

You reacted slow.

You looked up to him with half-open eyes.

“.....what?”

He knew. He knew from the moment you looked at you.

He just smiled. He wouldn’t snitch as long you were safe. You were in your house, and he and your father were there to protect you if anything happened.

“Go take a nap sweetheart. I’ll go get you when the takeout gets here.”

You smiled and nodded. Before going upstairs, you leaned in to give him a hug.

You whispered, “Thanks Lee.”

______________________________________

Deputy Howser walked into your place of work, a retail store.

You spotted him from the back, where you were steaming shirts to put out on the rack.

“Hey!” you shouted at him from across the store.

“Hey!” He stated walking towards you, “You gonna be home tonight?”

“I suppose I should be, why?”

“Well, I might advise against it” he said worried.

“And why is that?”

“Well... as you know it’s poker night, and all the guys from the station are gonna be coming over to your house to play.”

“Yes, I do know this, and what about it?”

“Well, I just, I know how some of the guys down at the station can get when they start drinking, and I’m not so sure I would want you in that environment.”

“I have to ask again, why is that?”

“It’s just... it’s just that you’re a young woman, a beautiful one at that, and they might make certain comments that would make you feel uncomfortable.”

You scoffed. “I think I’ll be fine David. I can hold my own yknow.”

“I know, I know. I just, I don’t wanna see you get hurt or see you uncomfortable.”

“I promise, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you when I get off work, okay?”

“Okay.” He said with slight hesitation. “See ya then.”

______________________________________

You walked through your front door, yelling to your father that you were home.

“Dad! I’m home! Sorry, I got out a little bit late tonight.”

“Hey sweetheart, I’m in the dining room with the guys. Come say hi.”

You began to walk back to the dining room to say hello.

You immediately regretted it.

“Hey baby, come here often?” One of them joked.

“You wanna come sit down sweetheart? You look like you’ve had a long day. I gotta spot waiting for ya” another stated, patting his lap.

You awkwardly smiled and waved at them. Your father, David, and Lee all had angry expressions plastered on their face. They didn’t say anything as to not upset the men. They needed almost every single one for a successful poker night. It was just easier to not start anything.

“It’s nice seeing you all” you said through gritted teeth, not meaning a single word.

“I’m gonna go upstairs now, and if you gentleman would stick to the downstairs bathroom that would be great.”

You needed to take a shower, but you weren’t going to announce that to a room full of drunken men, who were obviously having too much fun as it was.

You turned on your heel and scurried up the steps. You ran into the bathroom immediately, locking the door behind you.

God, I hate poker nights.

You stared at yourself in the mirror before stepping into the shower. You didn’t even understand why they were hitting on you so much. In your eyes, at least, there wasn’t much to look at, or even desire. You were insecure but tried not to show it. There were good days, and bad days. Today just happened to be a bad day.

You poked and prodded your every insecurity, hoping that this would remedy the issues and make them disappear.

It wasn’t successful.

You finally decided to get undressed and get in the shower. Your turned both nozzles on, waiting for the water to get warm. Once it was a comfortable temperature you stepped in the shower, letting your mind wander.

You never knew why, but your mind always wanted to think about the sheriff. His muscular figure, with his big belly to give him some cushion so he was soft enough to lay on. His cute nose. And his uniform. He looked so stern and yet soft at the same time. Ready to kick someone’s ass but also ready to protect you when he needed to.

You were pulled from your thoughts as you heard a slight chuckle coming from the doorway. You pulled back the curtain to reveal the door was cracked. No one was there, but you could’ve sworn you shut and locked it upon entering just moments ago. You were leery but decided to let it go. You continued to wash your body and your hair. You heard the chuckle again. You didn’t hesitate this time, pulling back the curtain as fast as you could, but still covering your body.

You made direct eye contact with another man from the office. You couldn’t think of his name in that exact moment, being too mortified to even let your thoughts process what was going on.

You screamed. You screamed as loud as you could prompting Officer Dowd to begin sprinting down the stairs. Fortunately, your father and Lee were up in a flash hearing you scream. He was caught.

Lee shoved Officer Dowd against the wall as you wrapped yourself in a towel and made it halfway down the steps.

“Looks like we got a peepin’ Tom. You like looking at girls in the shower huh? You like it when you get to stare at them with their clothes off?”

He didn’t let Officer Dowd answer the question. Lee gave him a swift punch to the face before another breath escaped his body.

Officer Dowd landed on the ground with a thud. Lee got on the ground and spoke to him lightly.

“Now let that be a warnin’. If I catch you anywhere near Y/N again, I’ll put you in the damn ICU. And that is a promise you bet I’m keeping. I know we’re playin’ poker, but I ain’t bluffin’.”

Lee stood up abruptly and say your father holding you as you sobbed into his chest.

He hated to see you cry.

Lee remembered the first time he ever saw you extremely distraught. Some local high school boys were making fun of how you looked. He knew that sort of stuff normally didn’t bother you, but he could tell what they said was more than a few insults.

You came through the door absolutely sobbing. Lee happened to be over at the time, concerned something worse may have happened to you. You explained some stupid high school boys were just harassing you and you shouldn’t be as upset as you were. He held you for two hours that day trying to get you to calm down. He had never felt a pit in his stomach like that before in his life.

He loathed that people made you feel this way.

Your father finally spoke “I think it’s safe to say poker night is over. If you have any issues, I’m sure Bodecker would love to speak to you right now.”

______________________________________

As the men cleared out, Deputy Howser and Lee stayed to make sure you were okay.

They waited until your father calmed you down.

Deputy Howser came in first. He totally wanted to say “I told you so” but he didn’t. Thank god. You think you might have punched him if he did. Instead, he just told you how his wife would bake you your favorite cookies tomorrow and he would bring them over after work. You thanked him, finally leaving. To be honest, you just wanted to be alone.

That was, until you saw Lee come into your room to check on you. You didn’t even know he was still here. You knew he cares about you, but not to this extent. Deputy Howser was your best friend, and obviously your dad cares, but Lee was only a family friend. You saw him all the time, but this was different.

“Hey darlin’, how ya feelin’?”

You smirked “How would you feel if you caught a grown man trying to spy on you while you were taking a shower?”

He smiled back “Fair ‘nough”

He closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed next to you.

It was silent for a moment. You appreciated it, but it was still awkward. You decided to be bold.

“How come you stuck around to check on me?”

Lee was taken aback by this question. He just punched a man for you, why would he not stay to check snd make sure you were doing okay?

“Sweetheart, I just socked the man who was tryin’ to do you harm. Why wouldn’t I stick around to make sure you were okay?”

You thought for a moment.

“I just didn’t think you cared about me that much.”

Again, Lee was shocked. How could you be saying this?

“Y/N, if I didn’t care about ya, your dad would’ve known about all your shenanigans a long time ago. Course I care about ya. You mean a lot to me.”

Your stomach started to turn. Not in a queasy way, but more nervous. You didn’t know why.

“Lee?”

“Yes darlin’?”

“Would you, would you mind if you gave me a hug before you left? I just, I need to be held right now.”

He sat there and thought for a moment. About what, you don’t know, but he finally nodded and opened his arms. You took it upon yourself to sit in his lap while he wrapped his arms around you.

You could hear his heartbeat and breathing. It was soothing. You needed that after the day you had.

Something in the air felt off though. You weren’t sure what, but you knew it felt different.

You looked to Lee for a response but all he had to offer was a soft smile. Your faces were dangerously close to one another. He caressed your hair, lovingly while you continued to stare into each other’s eyes.

You decided to be bold.

You leaned in quickly for a kiss.

At first, Lee resisted, confused as to what was going on, but eventually gave into your soft lips.

You held them there for a moment, enjoying the touch. You began to deepen the kiss as time went on, sucking on his lower lip while he sucked on your upper lip. You stayed that way for what felt like an eternity. Lee began to dip his tongue into your mouth. You accepted it and continued like this for even longer. The passion in the way he was kissing and holding you was unreal. Unlike your ex-boyfriend Lance, he seemed to care that you were enjoying it too.

You finally pulled apart and made eye contact.

He smirked.

“This isn’t what I thought was gonna happen when you said you needed to be held.”

You smiled back

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

You went in for another kiss, but Lee quickly spun you around and pinned you to the bed.

“I know ya got a mouth on ya doll, but I call the shots. Talk like that again and I’ll have to spank your ass.”

“Yes, Sheriff.” You said coyly.

“Although I love you calling me Sheriff, you’ll address me as daddy.”

Your pussy throbbed at the sound of calling him that.

“Yes, daddy.”

He smiled.

“How bout we get these clothes off?”

You nodded eagerly. He ripped off your clothes in a flash, with no time to waste. He had already been in your room for an uncomfortable amount of time. Your father might come in at any moment.

“Can I touch this pretty pussy, babydoll?” He stated, hovering over your mound.

You nodded again, almost breathless at the thought of him touching you.

He slowly entered you with two fingers. A soft moan escaped your lips, grabbing onto his other arm that was propping him up.

“Fuck, you’re so tight darlin’, can’t wait to put my cock in you.”

He pumped in and out of you at a slow pace. He didn’t know how much experience you had, trying to be as gentle as possible.”

“Daddy go faster.”

“Daddy go faster, what?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Daddy go faster, please.”

He grabbed the sides of your throat lightly to assert dominance. You assume it was because you rolled your eyes. Damn your attitude sometimes.

“Now, we don’t roll our eyes at our daddy, do we?”

“No, I promise I won’t do it again daddy. Please go faster.”

He obliged and starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. A louder moan escaped your lips again, this time Lee shot his hand up to cover your mouth.

“Shhh, we have to be quiet darlin’. Wouldn’t want your old man to find out what we were doin’. I don’t see it endin’ well for either of us.”

You nodded as you rode his fingers. Your walls fluttered around his fingers. You felt the right coil in your stomach, preparing yourself for an orgasm.

Just as you felt the wave of pleasure coming, Lee pulled his fingers out of you.

You looked up in confusion, only to see Lee with his pants pulled down and holding his cock.

Wow.

He was huge.

He began stroking it.

“You ready sweetheart?” He whispered into your ear softly.

You nodded again, just wanting to get back to the wave of pleasure you were about to experience.

“I don’t usually get to it this fast but considerin’ the circumstances I don’t wanna get caught.”

He began to press his head into you. He could feel you squeeze around him, driving him absolutely insane.

“Goddamn darlin’, I ain’t gonna last long if you’re this tight.”

You smiled, glad to make him feel good.

He leaned down to kiss you as he slowly started to pump in and out of you.

You moaned against his lips, unable to keep yourself from being quiet. His lips thankfully muffled your moans. He continued to pump in and out “fuck baby, tell me how bad you want it.”

You whispered against him “I want it so bad daddy, please go faster. Fuck me as hard as you can.”

Lee couldn’t control himself. He picked up his pace and began pounding into you, careful not to make too much noise with the bed frame.

“Oh fuck, daddy, oh god don’t stop.”

“You like this baby? Huh? You like how your daddy pounds your pussy?”

You nodded, almost completely incoherent and responded with a soft “yes daddy, god yes.”

The coil in your stomach came back, making you arch your back, also allowing Lee to fuck you deeper.

Lee began speaking again “Who’s pussy does this belong to?”

“It belongs to you daddy!”

“Keep sayin’ it, keep telling’ me who owns this pussy”

“You daddy, oh god it belongs to you!”

The wave of pleasure began to wash over you as you climaxed.

“That’s it baby, cum all over my cock, fuck yeah just like that” Lee whispered back.

Lee could tell you were about to moan, so he covered your mouth just in time for you to cum. Only seconds later did Lee let out a similar moan, muffled by his head being buried in your hair. He pulled out of you abruptly and began stroking his cock. He came all over your stomach and tits, making a mess of your body. He quickly got up and put his clothes on, also grabbing tissues to wipe off your body.

You laid on the bed, left breathless of what transpired.

Lee laid down next to you, only for a little bit. He didn’t want to fuck you and leave. He was better than that. Well, at least he thought he was. Other women might not agree.

You slid over to lay on his chest, still completely undressed.

You laid like this for a little while before looking to Lee.

“Lee?”

“What sweetheart?”

“Can we add this to the list of ‘shenanigans’ you won’t be telling my father?”

[queenxxxsupreme]

Daisies (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

A/N: Honestly couldn’t tell you where this came from..... The italics is just Arthur reciting the poem. Here is where to go if you’d like to add yourself to my taglist. Here is my Red Dead Redemption Masterlist.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: fluff, absolute fluff, some kissing in a field but nothing NSFW

Summary: In a field of daisies, Arthur reads poetry to you. 

The evening sun was warm as it filtered through the green tree leaves. A warm summer breeze came from the lake, moving through the patch of daisies you sat in like a tender whisper. 

Down by the edge of the water, you could spot a buck with his head dipped down to drink from the lake. The beautiful animal was obvious to you and to Arthur, who was reading from one of your poetry books. 

You were sitting up and leaning back on one hand while Arthur was laying between your legs, his head resting comfortably on your thigh. 

“You sure I’m speakin’ English?” He looked up at you as he turned the page.

“It’s just poetry, darling.” You smiled, brushing your fingers along his cheek. “Keep going. The next one is my favorite.” 

Arthur adjusted his hold on the book, fixing how he had it propped up on his abdomen, and let out a small breath. 

“How Do I Love Thee, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.”

Your fingertips traced an invisible like from his temple down to his jaw. You enjoyed the way the muscles in his cheek and jaw moved as he spoke. 

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach when feeling out of sight.”

His jaw was stubbly and graying, a telltale sign he’d need to shave soon. He liked to stay clean shaven, especially in the heat of Lemoyne. 

“Doll, I don’t know what any of this means.” He sighed in frustration, 

“Just keep going.” You encouraged, letting your hand travel from his face down to his chest. Your nimble fingers slipped beneath his shirt. You were thankful he had left the top few buttons undone. The coarse, dark hair that littered his chest was a stark contrast to your soft skin. 

“For the ends of Being….” You started and trailed off, knowing exactly where he was without needing to look at the book. 

“For the ends of Being and ideal Grace, I love thee to the level of everyday’s most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.”

Your eyes lifted to watch the buck move away from the lake and disappear over the hill. 

As you traced shapes against Arthur’s chest, you felt a ridge, a raise in his skin. It was a scar just above his sternum. 

“I love thee freely, as men strive for Right. I love thee purely as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life. And if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.”

As he finished the poem, you looked down at him, a little smile pulling at your lips. 

“I think it’s a very lovely piece. Don’t you agree?” 

Arthur put the book aside and turned over on to his stomach. He pushed himself up on to his knees, bringing his face level with yours. 

“I think you’re a very lovely piece.” He pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Arthur.” You giggled against him, trying to steady yourself with all of your support on one hand behind your. Your other hand was on his chest, weakly pushing against him. You weren’t really trying to push him away, but he was about to knock you over. 

“Damn it, woman.” He grunted, not bothering to pull away so he could talk properly. His words came out muffled against your lips. “Forget how stubborn you are.” He reached around you and grabbed your arm that you were leaning against, effectively knocking you back. 

You squealed as you fell backwards onto the daisies. 

Arthur followed you, not so elegantly landing on top of you. His lips found yours almost immediately, drawing another giggle from you as he kissed you. He carefully positioned one elbow by your ear to hold himself up so he wouldn’t completely crush you beneath his weight. His other hand started innocently at your hip, but then he trailed down to your knee and drew your leg up along his side. 

“Why can’t people just say it normal?” His mouth left yours, trailing featherlike kisses along your jaw. You shivered and goosebumps broke out along your skin.

“Say-Say what normal?” 

“That you love someone.” His touch found the scar in your hairline left by one of the times you were ambushed by the O’Driscolls. “Make it easier than some silly poem.”

You opened your eyes as you felt his lips pull away from you. He lifted his head just a little, cornflower blue eyes peering down at you. 

“People have all sorts of different ways of sayin’ they love someone.” You reached up to trace Arthur’s lips. “You don’t gotta say the words.”

“But it seems easy enough.” He muttered, trying his best to not move his lips as you traced them with your index. 

“It was hard for you to say it.” You reminded him. Your hand trailed around to the back of his neck. “When I…. When I said it first, you said you felt the same…. But you couldn’t say them. It was like the words were molasses stuck in your chest. That’s how you described it, at least.”

A little furrow formed in his brow as he moved, sitting beside you instead of laying on top of you. He combed his fingers through his blond hair. His eyes flickered around, surveying his immediate surroundings. 

There were ducks gathered by the lake, quacking and waddling as they moved about. 

“I just…. I don’t know.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Can’t tell you why I couldn’t, pumpkin.”

“It’s okay, Arthur.” You sat up and reached over to put your hand on his knee. “I understand. Sometimes we aren’t ready at the same time someone else is. Don’t mean there’s anything wrong with us.”

He pulled a daisy from the ground and examined it. His lips pressed together in a firm line as he thought about whatever was clouding his mind. Then he looked up at you and tucked the flower behind your ear. 

“I knew I loved you long before I told you.” He admitted, hands falling back to his lap. You smiled, feeling your chest swell at his tender words. 

“Was there a certain thing that let you know?” You sat up on your knees and moved to lay your head in his lap. You wanted to be close to him again, to touch him, to have his hands on you in some way. 

The second your head found his lap, he brushed his hand over your hair, careful not to mess up the braid you had worked so hard on earlier in the day. 

“I don’t know.” He tilted his head to the side a little as he looked down at you. “Seein’ ya kick Micah’s ass just before Blackwater was pretty mesmerizin’.” 

You took one of his hands, placing it over your heart. Your eyes fluttered shut and you silently wondered if he could feel your heart racing. 

“I think it was a lot of little things.” Arthur continued, taking the opportunity to admire your features. The little lines left behind near your eyes from years of smiling in your youth. The little scars left here and there from your less than safe life since meeting the outlaw. The barely noticeable smile on your lips. “It was just…. I don’t know, pumpkin. It was you.” 

Your eyes opened and you found his gaze. 

“You sound like you could make a beautiful poetry book someday.” You reached up to cup his cheek. 

He turned his head to kiss your palm.

“Maybe…. for you.” He whispered against your skin. 

His eyes caught sight of the sun disappearing over the horizon, signaling the day was nearly over. “We should head back to camp before they send someone out here.”

“Oh, and we wouldn’t want that.” You sighed as you sat up, your tone teasing. “What would happen if the boys found ole Arthur Morgan readin’ poetry to a girl in a field of daisies?”

Arthur groaned at the thought, shaking his head as he picked up his hat from the ground and put it on his head. He picked up the poetry book and tucked it under one arm, then held his other arm out for you. 

“Don’t make me think about that.” 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Morgan.” You tucked one hand into the crook of his elbow. “I’d never let it slip that you were a gentleman. It’d look bad on your sparkling criminal record.” 

“That’s mighty kind of you, Ms.Y/L/N.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead as he guided you back towards camp.

Taglist: @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn

[paintedsolariums]

whose child is this? - levihan crackfic

Levi heads to his room to grab a document from his desk, but all thoughts of bureaucracy and paperwork fly out of the window as he finds a baby sitting and blabbering to itself on his bed. The baby looks up at him in the doorway and exclaims “papa!” upon seeing him.

He frowns. Very few of the survey corps have children, and so he’s familiar with how those look like. This brunette child is not one of them, “whose brat are you?” he asks, as if it is capable of answering him.

Did a governor or someone from the inner walls visit? It’s probably someone’s child that wandered off. He sighs, closes the door, and goes to ask the guards stationed at the headquarter doors about any recent visitors. The answer is “no sir, only the supply carts have come today,” he nods in thanks and deliberates on what to do.

On his way back to his room, Levi passes by Hange’s lab. He can hear them sorting through their books, probably looking for some obscure fact to back up a working theory. He knows that Hange is friendly and on talking terms with all of the staff, so they may recognize the tiny intruder.

(continued after the cut)

He knocks –to announce his presence– and enters the room. He finds Hange scanning a book with one hand and jotting down notes every other second with the other, all the while muttering to themselves. For a split second there’s something comforting about the sight; about seeing them be at some level of peace doing something they love. But he pushes the thought away into the forbidden corner in his mind where all similarly sentimental thoughts go.

“Hey four-eyes,”

Hange looks up, “hm? oh hey Levi! i didn’t hear you coming in”

“I’m not surprised. Anyways, did one of the supply staff have a brat recently?”

They look thoughtful, “..no i don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

It’s an expected question; he’s never expressed an interest in the detailed lives of the staff, but given his current predicament, he’s sort of forced to know more.

Levi also realizes that there’s no way to explain the situation in a way that will make sense, but then again, Hange has never needed things to make sense to take them seriously.

“There’s a... baby in my room, and i don’t know whose it is,” he looks away and doesn’t mention that said baby thought he was it’s father.

“What?!”

“I don’t know! Why do you think i’m asking you?”

He must look visibly flustered because Hange laughs and puts down their book, “alright, maybe if i see this mysterious baby i’ll recognize it,” they get up and –presumably– head to his room. He spares a glance at the lab before he follows; it’ll need a dusting soon.

Once he catches up to them, they ask, “what does it look like?”

“Brown hair and grey eyes, you’ll see for yourself,”

“Grey eyes huh? I don’t think I know of anyone who has a grey-eyed baby,”

Levi wearily hopes that Hange unlocks that memory once they see it; this whole situation is starting to take a lot longer than he’d like it to.

They reach his room and find the baby looking around in wonder at its surroundings. It’s quiet. He remembers that this is unusual for babies but doesn’t know what to do with that piece of information.

Hange giggles as they approach the tiny creature on the bed, “who are you, you little cutie?”

The baby raises its arms and says “mama!”

Hange complies with the request and lets it wrap its small arms around their neck and rest it’s head on their shoulder.

“I’m not your mother though,” a small pause as they notice something on the baby, “aww you have a book with you?”

It does? Levi hadn’t seen if it had something in its hands, but going off of the small yellow cardboard square it’s holding, it apparently does. He plucks the item from its hands, and reads the title out loud, “The Bumblebee and The Tulip”. The script on the cover is legible but strange.

Hange smiles, “it’s been ages since i’ve seen a children’s book, I’ve only ever found them in Sina,” they glance back at the baby, “so you’re a rich kid, huh?”

“Doesn’t look like one though. No fancy hair clips or jacket. Not even expensive shoes,”

They hum thoughtfully, “true. What a strange little specimen,” they take a look at the baby’s clothes, “speaking of strange, these clothes are weird too. Simpler yet somehow more complicated than usual,”

Well. This isn’t going great, “I don’t think there’s anything “usual” left in this situation,”

The baby, which has been sitting contentedly in Hange’s arms this entire time, now reaches towards him and says, “papa,”

He narrows his eyes at it, “why does it think we’re it’s parents? And can it only say those two words?”

Hange laughs a little, “I don’t know, but babies can only say so much. Do you know how to hold one?”

The answer must be on his face because they just continue, “you basically have them sit on your arm, and you support their neck or back with a hand as well, here try it,” and they offer the baby to him.

“I think i’ll drop it if I try to carry it,”

“You won’t, this one’s quite light so you’ll be able to handle it,”

Levi shoots them an unimpressed look but hold out his arms anyway. Hange hands the small thing over to him and arranges his arms so that they look like how Hange’s did. He’s still a little worried that he’ll accidentally hurt the child even as it just sits there and stares at him with strangely familiar grey eyes.

Hange tilts their head to the side and smiles, “you look kind of adorable together,”

He glares at them with no real heat, “no we don’t”

“It’s true! You know what? Actually..” but they trail off.

That’s weird. Hange never keeps an observation to themselves, “what is it?”

They look kind of sheepish, “okay, well, it’s ridiculous, but the baby does look a little like both of us,”

“What,”

“I know it’s impossible, but it has your eyes and it’s nose looks like what mine did when i was that age,”

Levi looks back at the baby and a weird feeling blooms in his chest. Hange’s observation explains why the eyes were familiar; he’s seen them everyday in the mirror. He also notes that even the baby’s hair is of a very similar shade to Hange’s, but that doesn’t mean anything; brown hair is very common.

“Right, well. This brat might look like us but that doesn’t mean shit. It’s not our child and we don’t know whose it actually is,”

Hange sighs, “I’m sure we’ll find it’s parents once we ask around, but it is confusing. You said you just found it on your bed?”

“Yeah,”

“No disturbance around it? Any footprints or signs that the window was open or anything?”

“I wasn’t really focusing on that when I found it,” but he does take stock of his room now and notes that nothing seems out of place; as if the child simply manifested into existence.

Just as they’re contemplating on who to ask, they hear voices. But not from the hallway.

The sound of two voices in conversation came from the wall to the left, the one that has no door or window and just connects to more stone. Yet it sounds like someone is coming from there as if through a hallway.

Levi and Hange glance at each other, “Levi do you have a secret corridor attached to your room?”

“No. why would I-“ but he stops short as the voices become clearer.

Because if this entire thing wasn’t weird as fuck already, it’s their voices that are coming closer, and he starts to be able to pick out the conversation:

“Four-eyes i swear to god if our child is in the universe of the cannibal-murder-giants,” that’s his voice. What the fuck. To make matters worse, the baby he’s holding turns towards the voice with excitement.

Someone, no, Hange laughs. That’s their laugh, but Hange is standing right next to him staring wide-eyed at the wall.

“There’s nothing to worry about! the drop range I set for here is limited to only the building where our parallels work at, so Kora should be safe. what I’m really hoping for is to find her alon-“

Two people materialize as they step out of the wall, and freeze upon seeing them.

Two people, may he add, that look and sound exactly like them.

A very thick silence suffocates the air, and it’s only broken when the baby squirms in his hold, reaches out towards the other two and says “mama! papa!”

The other Hange awkwardly waves at the child while the other Levi simply says “shit,”

Other-Hange tries to smile, “uh hi. can we have our child back, please?”

“your child?” the real Hange chokes out.

“Yes, she accidentally wandered here while we weren’t paying attention,” other-Hange replies as if answering a normal inquiry about the weather.

This other-Hange approaches him with their arms out to receive the child and he instinctively steps back. The other-Levi laughs, “we’re not gonna bite,”

His own hold on the baby isn’t going to last while she’s trying to jump into her mother’s arms, so he tentatively hands her and her book over lest he drops both.

He notes that other-Hange wears a wedding ring, and when he glances over to his apparent twin, he’s wearing a matching one too. Great.

“You just caused a huge mess, you know that Kora?” the other-Hange tells the baby with a fond smile.

Kora simply laughs in response.

Levi’s fairly sure that his brain short-circuited, because he asks “who are you?”

“Damn I didn’t think I would be this stupid” other-Levi says.

other-Hange laughs a little, “hey be nice! you weren’t the brightest bulb when you learned of this either,”

“Yeah whatever, we gotta head back anyway before we break this universe,”

“Right. Well, it was interesting meeting you two. Try to convince yourselves that this was some weird fever or lucid dream, things will go smoother that way,”

And with that, both Others turn back to phase through the stone wall they came from. Kora waves at them both as she disappears without a trace, just like how she appeared in the first place.

It might have been minutes or hours that Levi and Hange just stood there gaping at the wall, but eventually he says “what the fuck?”

“I have so many questions. I’m going to be thinking about this for the rest of my life,” Hange says as they sink down to sit on the floor.

Levi joins them and thinks that maybe one of the new recruits snuck something into the tea.

–––––––––––––

thanks for reading! 

this fic can also be found on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31065770

please don’t repost or upload on another site :)

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Weasley support system

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Summary: Y/N takes the position of a subtitute teacher at Hogwarts; her and George’s eldest son comes out as gay Word count: 1465

warnings: pretty emotional, but I wouldn’t say sad? supportive parents and siblings

a/n: This is based on the concept from my last post. I didn’t spend too much time working on it so I hope you like it?  I couldn’t decide on a title so this one might be rubbish. It was a good palate cleanser while writing the next chapter of little steps as it’s long and my mind started going in loops. Which is why if you have any request, send it my way. I know I haven’t shown much yet, but I’m open peeps

Feedback encouraged!

14th May 2020

Dear Y/N,

            The reason I am writing to you is to make a request.

            I have recently received news of our current Defence Against the Dark Arts professor’s plan to retire. I’m afraid this has come as a bit of a shock to me and I won’t be able to find a suitable and competent successor in time before September. I don’t suppose you would be willing to take that position long-term, however, I’d like to offer you the position of a substitute teacher for one year, time in which I’m sure to find somebody good enough.

            I am giving you time to think the decision through, but I hope to see you at the start of September.

 Minerva McGonagall Headmistress Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

  You finished reading the letter and placed it on the table next to your coffee mug and the breakfast leftovers. George took your hand and you looked up at him, both of your facial expressions in a mix of excitement and uncertainty. “What do you think?” He asked after a bit of silence, softly caressing your hand with his thumb. “It’s an interesting opportunity..” “It is..” you trailed off “I would see the kids more” he nodded.

You got a bit happier at the thought, and your mind once more went to how soon they’d finally be back home for the summer. You got used to being apart from them, last September even your youngest left for Hogwarts, meaning you and George were left alone at home. You got used to it, but you still missed your babies, who were not babies anymore.

Your eldest, Lucas - now finishing his fifth year, was an introvert with a heart of gold. The twin girls – Ruby and Vivian – although different from each other, both took after their dad – but to your luck with less interest in mischief. The youngest – Jacob, had a natural talent for driving his sisters insane.

You knew being apart from George for months after nearly twenty years of being married would not be easy, but you decided to go through with it, hoping this interesting experience would prove worth it.

Riding on the Hogwarts Express brought a familiar sense of excitement, but you weren’t a student anymore. It was strange, passing the compartments and seeing your children and their many cousins chatting with their friends just as you have all those years ago.

As a professor, you were determined to make your students comfortable and interested in what they were learning. They often asked questions about your work and sometimes about Weasleys’ Wizards’ Wheezes (as a Mrs Weasley it was inevitable) which served as a treat.

 “Luke, could you stay behind, please?” you called after your son one day, right after a N.E.W.T. level class with 6th years. He gave his friends a look and walked up to you. “Could you pass me your textbook for a second? I think there were some changes between editions and I’d like to check it with the one I have before my next group…” You said as he reluctantly took the book back out of his bag and put it in front of you.

You flipped through a few chapters and started skimming through one you needed to check. You saw some doodles around the text, along with a few signatures from the same person – Dylan. You did not give it much thought – you knew Dylan, he was Luke’s friend and visited your house a few times in their first years.

You also didn’t notice Luke’s change in expression when you reached that page. His whole body tensed up and breath hitched. He didn’t listen to you ramble about the change in the description of non-verbal spells, he wiped his sweaty palms in his trousers and studied your face, waiting for something.

“You should invite him over around Christmas, baby. It’s been a while.” You said closing both of the books. “Who?” “Dylan” “Why?” asked with a shaky voice, starting to feel slightly sick. “Well, you mention him so often. He’s still your best friend, isn’t he?” you looked up to see your son in a state you’ve never witnessed before and you didn’t understand why. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his eyes started to shine. “He’s not really my friend, mum.” you waited for him to continue, “I like him.” his voice barely audible, yet you still didn’t understand what was going on. You brought your hand up to caress his arm as his lip began to tremble, “I know, baby, it’s-“ “No, mum, you don’t get it!” He bit his lip holding back his tears. “I- I like him…”

You pulled him into a hug and cursed yourself for taking so long to catch up. You embraced the boy as tight as you could. “I’m sorry,” he said between weeps. “No, baby! You have nothing to be sorry about” You brought his face to your shoulder and caressed his head. He took his height after his dad and was already taller than you, but right now felt so small in your arms as you wanted to protect him from the world. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner” “It’s my fault you didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell me.” You said, now crying with him. You stayed like that for a bit, kissing the side of his head from time to time. “I’m not sure you could’ve done any better, mum. You’re pretty great,” he laughed softly. “I try.” You chuckled. “Could you.. could you not tell dad?” he said pulling away. It slightly worried you. Was he afraid of coming out to George? You didn’t know how he’d react, but it couldn’t be bad. He loves his children, no matter what. “I- I just want to tell him properly, face to face. I’ll do it during Christmas break.” “Ok, baby,” you said, relieved, pulling him down to place one last kiss to his cheek, to which he rolled his eyes. Back to normal, that means.

It wasn’t easy hiding it from George when you saw him next weekend, but you managed. Luke soon came out to his siblings (Jacob replied with ‘so?’ and the twins claim they knew).

Before you knew it, George was picking you all up from Kings Cross and you were heading home for Christmas.

The next day, you spent the early afternoon at the Burrow to Molly’s delight. Back home, you planned to decorate the house and most importantly – the Christmas tree, after dinner which you were now preparing in the kitchen. It was open to the lounge room, where you could hear George mumble mostly to himself while reading a magazine. You had missed that.

Lucas walked down the stairs inconspicuously and walked up behind the couch. “Can I talk to you, dad?” he asked and you tried to stick to your cooking and let them have their moment, but it was hard not to listen in. “Sure, champ, what is it?” George looked up from behind the paper for just a second, and Luke sat down. “I- I gotta tell you something.”

George put the paper down, confused by the sudden seriousness. “..You’re not making me a granddad yet, are you?” he tried to lighten the mood, but when Luke only looked at his feet, George straightened up completely with raised eyebrows. “No, I’m not,” George’s face relaxed a bit, before his son continued, “that’s unlikely.” he paused for a bit and took a deep breath. “I’m gay, dad”.

There was silence for what felt like hours when in reality it lasted just a few seconds.

George’s face showed pure shock. His back fell against the couch. “Dad?..” Tears started to well up in Luke’s eyes and you wanted to run up to him when you heard the shakiness in his voice. But then George looked up at him.

The warm, reassuring smile you saw on his face reminded you again why you love that man so much. He opened his arms and your son entered his embrace. “I love you, son. And I’m proud of you.” “I love you too, dad.”

That evening, decorating the house with your family made you happier than ever before. You watched the kids bicker about the placement of the ornaments when an arm snaked around your waist. “The rascals will always find something to fight over, won’t they?” he said with a smile and kissed your cheek. You looked up and placed your hand on the side of his face and whispered “I love you” “I love you back,” he said and kissed you softly. When he pulled away, you saw that familiar smirk and he turned to the kids.

“So, any boy you’re gonna introduce to us soon?”

[highstwildflower]

Less is more darling

Warnings: Mature, Smut

The heat had been unbearable in LA for the last few days. The outside felt like a sauna and being inside felt like a crime. Moaning you moved through the house looking for Ashton. When you found him he was busy with his phone, while talking to the person on the other end a smile spread on his beautiful features. You tried to ignore how beautiful he looked, distracting yourself you drank a large glass of water. Few minutes later Ashtons happy laughs filled your house "Guess what y/n. We are going to a pool party at Sierra and Luke's! Go get ready baby!" His voice was thick with excitement as you gulped down the water. Ashton lifted a brow at you, he had expected you to be bouncing off the walls or at least to match his own excitement. Before he had a chance to say anything you gave him a quick kiss before making your way to your closet.

Arriving at the party you clutched Ashtons hand in your own. Before you made it inside he was pulled away from you, as always. Normally you wouldn't mind, but lately you had needed him whenever you were in social situations. You hadn't voiced it to him or anyone for that matter, but your anxiety had hid new levels and it was affecting you in numerous ways. Only a few moments late you found yourself talking to the girls. Sierra was a close friend of yours and the next best security blanket, when Ashton was busy. The other girls who were speaking with you and Sierra was beautiful, absolutely goddesses. It was like that in LA, looks meant everything and sometimes that was the most hurtful thing to think about. You couldn't help your eyes from wandering down to the chests of the girls around you. You had always been on the lean side, and your boobs were nearly invisible, most of the time you didn't mind but right now you felt like crawling into a hole and hide forever. The feeling of being less of a woman, even less of a human began to creep into your body. Trying your best to shake the feeling you searched for Ashton, but your heart dropped when you saw him deeply engaged in conversation with a beautiful busty woman. You trusted Ashton, he was surrounded by beautiful humans all the time and life would be very tough if you did not trust him. But right now you couldn't help the burning pit at the bottom of your stomach, tears began to pool at your inner corners. Quickly you excused yourself and found a corner to lick your wounds in. You tried to calm yourself as your breath was uneven but it felt hopeless, the people behind you were having the time of their life while you silently were falling apart, even Ashton were unaware of your current state of mind.

But across the pool Ashton had noticed how you were covering yourself with you sundress even though everybody else were left in their bathing suites only. He also noticed how his beautiful bubbly girl was standing quite unfocused on the conversation she was a part of. As she turned her back to the rest of the party and her body only allowed shallow breaths Ashton was fast to leave the conversation he himself was engaged in. Crossing the distance with big steps he wrapped his arms around you from behind, relief filled your body as you turned in his grasp. Burring you face in his neck you allowed the sobs to escape your body, the loud music drowned the sounds at the moment was only shared between you and Ashton. Ashton stood silently just rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down, when you finally felt yourself calming down you took a step back "Can we please go home?" your voice was small and almost pathetic but Ashton understood the panic in your voice "'course darling" his large thumb dried your tears away before he pulled you into his side.

As soon as you arrived at home you hurried inside desperate to cover your flat chest. Ashton knew you, and he respected that you weren't  as communicative a person as he himself was. However, he was a bit frustrated when hours had rolled by and you stilled hadn't offered an explanation for the sudden breakdown. "Baby" his voice rang through the house, and though you had been hiding in the sunroom you knew you had to offer him something "yeah I'm in here Ash" you voice were tired as you prepared yourself for the confrontation. His large frame entered the room and as if he was dealing with a wild beast he slowly approached you before he spoke calmly "Are you ready to tell me what that was all about?" he nudged your knee with his own as he took a seat next to you. Playing with the pages of your book you looked up at him "not really" it was clearly written across his face that he wasn't satisfied with you answer. Before he had a change to say anything you spoke again "I know I owe you an explanation, but I can't give you one right now, I'm just not ready. Please don't push me with this one." You were never really one to set boundaries so while Ashton was incredible proud of you he was also frustrated. Tucking lightly at his hair, he slowly turned to look at you a gentle smile spread across his lips before he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your forehead. He stood up and left you alone again.

Hours passed, those turned into days and still you and Ashton wasn't really talking, neither of you were mad at the other but you both got lost in your heads. Ashton went around thinking about you falling apart in his arms before you sheltered yourself from him, he felt like a terrible partner who had missed the cues. You, on the other hand, went around with a crippling self-esteem, you wanted to open up to him but you couldn't. It would just bring more attention to the fact that you were less of a woman, that he deserved someone who had a larger breast area. Along those days the temperature had risen and you had struggled with finding clothes to wear, everything showcased you flat chest. Loos closing were your only friend.

"Honey, I'm home" his voice brought you from your thoughts, wearing his loos sweater you walked to the center of the house where he just had announced his return. "Hi ashy" he smiled as his nickname left your lips, it felt like an eternity ago since you last greeted him like this. His arms open up for you to snuggle against him and you happily agreed. His lips found yours and for the first time in days you felt as if you might had a change to make it through this. "Whats going on in that pretty head of yours?" his question was intrusive and you took a small step away not ready to open up yet. "Y/n, baby please" he was desperate, knowing you brought this pain on to him brought tears to your eyes "No no, don't cry. I promise what ever it is we will figure it out. Together, you remember?" his arms were still around you as he played with the hem of your baggy shirt "Why are you wearing this baggy clothes lately love?" his voice was more careful this time but you still winched as he rubbed salt in your open wound. Getting the memo he grabbed your hand before dragging you behind him "what are you doing?" he didn't answer you as he continued to move towards your bedroom. He turned towards the big mirror in the corner of the room, without hurting you he sternly brought you in front of him so that you were facing the mirror. You avoided looking at yourself as you made eye contact with Ashton. "Look at yourself darling" his voice was soft yet decisive. You took a quick glance before meeting his eyes again. He gripped the hem of your sweater and brought the fabric over your head. Quickly you clasped your hands across your chest, protecting your nude form from both his and your stare. His large hands rubbed your arms as he gently worked your arms down to your side again "Look at how beautiful you are baby" his chest was warm against you back, offering a small comfort as you began to fall apart in front of him. "You can't say that. Im more flat that a skinny teenage boy"you spitted at him, your words made him furrow his brows as he let out a sigh "Thats not true baby, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes upon" his ran his large hands from you shoulder across your collarbone "You are so dainty" he smiled as his hands continued exploring your skin, "Your breast sits as two perfect cherries, so perfect" his hand came down to massage your breasts. "I love how firm your boobs feels in my hands" he gave them a squeeze, a smile still tucking at his lips and it was beginning to rub off on you "I love how you look so damn elegant in anything you wear" "I love how you can ditch the bra, so I can look at your nipples all day" As the words left his mouth he tugged at your nipples, your head rolled back onto his shoulder as a soft moan left your lips.

Ashton kept your firmly against his chest as he told you how amazing your smaller boobs were to him. You felt him hardening against your back and you felt yourself grow wetter with each words that left his lips "Darling, do me a favor and get rid of your pants and underwear?" he gave you a questioning look in the mirror, checking if you were still okay with the situation. You undressed yourself as he did the same. His hard cock was released from its confine space and you couldn't help but moan at the sight, his eyes meet yours as you made your way towards him. Just as you reached for his cock his stopped your hand "It is all about you today baby" you mind was clouded and before you noticed he had you back in front of his chest as you faced the mirror. "look at yourself while please you baby"  his voice was warm and husky against your spine, sending a shudder through your body. You fixed your eyes upon your own body, following his hands as they followed every curve of your body. He finally reached your slit and his fingers lazily played with your lips, you whined as he once again pulled a finger through your wet folders without caressing your clit. "Patiences baby" he chuckled into your ear. You began to grind onto Ashtons hand, as you grew more and more desperate for a relief "no, no, no baby, you gotta wait" the mischievousness was obvious in his voice as he enjoyed teasing you while being able to watch your whole body in the mirror. After teasing you for multiple minutes Ashton decided that he had had enough of teasing you "pleas baby" you wimped and just like that he burrowed one of his long fingers inside of you "fuck Ash" your moan was loud but your whine was even louder when he stopped moving his finger "Keep your eyes open baby, I want you to watch yourself or else I'm gonna stop" you struggled to keep your eyes open but you wanted him to continue. He added another finger as he pumped viciously inside of you, his lips worked on your neck and in-between kisses he whispered sweet nothings about how hot he found you. "Please Ashy, I want your cock" that was enough for Ashton to rip his fingers from you slit, he spread your juices on his cock as he pumped it a few times. Position himself behind you he pushed into you, the air was filled with both of your moans and skin slapping against each other. "such as good girl, taking my cock while looking so beautiful"  he words made you clench around him and moan out loud, without you noticing you had been playing with your left boob for a long period of time. Ashton felt proud as he saw you enjoying your body "Fuck y/n, you looks to good playing with you tits as I'm fucking you in front of a mirror" you gasped as he snapped his hips into yours "I I'm gonna cum fuuck. " He helped you chasing you high by brining a thump to your ball of nerves and just like that you felt firework blossom at the pit of your stomach, he kept you against his chest at his chased his own high. "Fuck y/n" he moaned into your ear as he came into you. Ashton kept your close for a moment as you both came down, he slowly dragged out and pulled you into the bathroom with him. He turned on the shower and turned to you, his large hand caught your cheek and he caressed while looking into your eyes "I love you so muck baby, you are really so so beautiful " you smiled at him "I love you baby, thank you" a sweet kiss was shared between the two of you. The shower was filled with sweet touched and a comfortable silence.

The next night as you laid in bed Ashton looked at you for a second "what?" you laughed at him as he moved to hold you closer "I was just thinking... I love you, and I think your body is amazing. I would never want you to change, I prefer you just the way you are. But if the size of you chest is such a big problem for you, you could change it? please don't hear this as me wanting you to change love" You smiled knowingly at him "Its ok ash. I thought about it but you made me realize that I should embrace myself as I am" He smiled bigly at you "Is that so love?" He moved to hoover over you "You know, words are just words till you bring the to life" you laughed at him "one direction really?" he laughed back at you before attacking your side with his long fingers, tickling you until you were gasping for air. The room was filled with loud laughed from the both of you, Ashton kissed your lips before drawing back slightly "and another time love, I will always be here to lift you up, so please involve me?" You nodded be pulling him back in, feeling grateful for the loving goofball who was trapping your body against the mattress.

[taelme]

Enemies-to-lovers!Bang Chan

request: Hey! Can i request and enemies to lovers slow burn with bang chan where they dont like each other but theres undeniable chemistry

genre: enemies-to-lovers!au, workplace/office!au, (fluff, slow burn, lots of denial of feelings lol) 

pairing/s: Chan / Reader (ft Seungmin and some ocs!) 

word count: 21k rip I got pretty carried away 

tw: not any prominent ones that I can think of, kind of hints of the whole misogyny in the workplace kind of thing 

a/n: I got super carried away writing this I hope you guys like it haha im currently working on the other requests so do look forward to those!! ill try to put them out as soon as I can~~ all this staying at home is really giving me time to write... ( I HAD TO use this gif I just HAD TO) but yes this was a little hard to find reasons why y/n wld hate chan bc im for the chan is an angel agenda but I ended up having so much fun ok BYE 

“Hey, you free to get lunch later?” You’d bumped into your friend who worked in the company’s legal department, Seungmin, on a Thursday morning while you were in the pantry preparing coffee and tidbits for your boss. 

You nodded, “uh-huh,” mixing the coffee absently, “what are you doing here?” 

Seungmin shrugged, leaning against the counter as he munched on a cookie, “felt like taking a walk. Things have been pretty busy in the legal department lately.” 

“Why?” 

Seungmin gave you a cheeky smile, shrugging, “can’t say, but you’ll find out soon enough.” 

You rolled your eyes, gritting your teeth with feigned menace towards him (his smile stayed unwavering, even sticking his tongue out at you to mock you).

“Who’s that for?” Seungmin gestured to the coffee mugs on the tray. 

“Mr Bang’s supposed to be meeting his nephew or something, he made it seem really important but all he told me was that it’s for his nephew,” you shrugged, glancing down at your two cups of coffee, realisation hitting you. 

“Shit, that just reminded me. He said his nephew doesn’t drink coffee. Do you want this?” You shot Seungmin a pleading look, holding up your now unneeded cup of coffee. 

Seungmin scoffed, taking the mug from you wordlessly, “how exciting your job is, huh,” he deadpanned, sipping the coffee, “wanna reconsider joining the legal department now?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m perfectly satisfied with my job now, thank you very much.” 

You’d prepared a pot of tea, careful not to spill the water onto the counter as you did so, transferring the pot onto your tray, “and plus, considering the amount of money I get paid for the amount of work I do, I’m more than happy.” 

Seungmin scoffed, “should’ve known it was because of the money.” 

“Alright, I’ve gotta go, see you later,” you said, picking up your tray as Seungmin waved his hand with cookie crumbs on his fingers, the clicking of your heels growing softer as you walked further away. 

Reaching the door of your boss’ office, you’d been able to faintly make out 2 silhouettes through the window from where you stood, composing yourself to make a good impression as you knocked on the door. Hearing your boss grunt, you’d pushed the door open with your shoulder, your gaze focused on the coffee table as you greeted your boss.

Setting the pot of tea on the table, you’d cast a glance at the recipient, your eyes widening when you’d spotted the boy with dyed hair sitting on the plush leather sofa facing your boss, dressed in a clean white button-down and tie, an equally well-ironed pair of pants, his posture relaxed with his legs spread casually. 

His gaze was on you, as if analysing your movements, making you direct your gaze back to your task at hand, setting the saucer with the cup of coffee onto the coffee table, placing the small biscuits your boss liked in the middle of the two. 

Holding the tray close to your chest, you cast a glance at your boss, about to bow in greeting and head back out when his voice had stopped you. 

“Y/N, please, stay here. I’d like to discuss something with you and my nephew.” 

Your eyebrows raised, lips pressed tightly together as you nodded, “oh…cool, alright.” 

“Please, take a seat,” Mr Bang gestured to the space on the sofa next to his nephew, making you seat yourself awkwardly on the other side of the sofa, your body pressing against the armrest as if trying to create as much distance as you could between him and you. 

“So, Chan, this is my secretary, Y/N,” Mr Bang gestured to you, “Y/N, this is my nephew, uh… Chris,” he spoke, the name sounding fairly familiar to you. Chris Bang? You sounded the name over in your head, not being able to connect the dots as to why it was so familiar at this point of time. 

“So, sweetheart, because I’ve been planning on resigning for a while now, I thought I should let you know that I’m planning on handing my position over to Chris.” 

Maybe this was what Seungmin was so busy with. 

You nodded slowly, trying to understand the implications this decision meant for you, “will my contract be terminated, then?” 

Chris glanced at you, as if searching your expression. He found you fairly younger than he’d expected, since his uncle had mentioned earlier that you’d already been working for him for quite some time, going onto 2 years already.

Of course, he didn’t want to underestimate you, but knowing the directors’ reputations regarding secretaries, he wasn’t sure if he could put a label on your abilities without seeing them for himself, first. And to him, he wasn’t quite understanding of why his uncle was so insistent that he needed a secretary, his past experiences with secretaries all being quite unimpressive. 

“That… is unfortunately up to Chris, but ideally your contract will resume as per normal.” 

You glanced back at the boy, who looked at you with an unreadable expression, something about his stare successfully unnerving you, the way he looked at you almost with a certain level of contempt. 

“We’ll be having a company dinner tonight to welcome Chris to the team, it would do the both of you well to get acquainted with each other before the board meeting for ceo elections.” 

You nodded slowly, still clutching the tray close to your chest as you wondered how old he was, the whole ordeal seeming as though it were something out of a movie: a young apathetic heir getting authority over a large corporation at such a young age. Was he even qualified for this position? The rest of the directors were nowhere near his age, well, appearance wise. 

As if having read your mind, your boss spoke, “I’m sure you two will get along just fine, considering you two are so close in age.” 

Your eyes narrowed, something in you not feeling comfortable with this arrangement. Dismissing the thought quickly, you shrugged, figuring it would be a change of scenery from being around the old directors all the time. 

You watched as Chris shrugged.

“We’ll see.” 

=== 

“Who?” Seungmin dabbed at his lips with his towel, picking up his glass of water to take a sip, making you frown, still trying to do your research on Chris Bang as far as your browser app would take you. 

“Chris Bang. He’s gonna take over the company from President Bang.” 

Your words seemed to have elicited a giggle from Seungmin, “doesn’t that make them both ‘President Bang’?”

Seungmin ignored your eye roll, continuing, “this was what I was referring to just now, you know. I thought you would’ve known who he was by now,” he told you, making you set your phone down on the table, open on his LinkedIn page that frankly wasn’t giving you much other than stating how very qualified he was for the job. 

“You know, Bang Chan? Ring a bell? That guy that’s been switching departments for God-knows-how-long since last year. The one that got all of us donuts one time,” Seungmin gave you a ‘duh’ look, considerably unamused. 

“Oh,” only then were you realising just who that was. You knew exactly who he was. You’d heard many rumours from the other secretaries on how he was impossibly good at anything he’d set his mind to, his work ethic and standard incomparable to anyone else in the company they’d ever seen. 

Which was why all that switching departments start to make sense to you, since it could’ve been his way of making sure he learnt the ins-and-outs of every department by the time he took over. If that wasn’t just more evidence that he was definitely a crazy workaholic.

At the time, you’d made a passing comment on how you hoped you would never have to be his subordinate, after having heard stories on how intimidating he was whenever it came to work (especially work that was improperly done). Little did you know that your comment would come back to bite you in the ass so soon. 

“Yeah, ‘oh,” Seungmin mimicked you, taking another bite out of his burger, “why d’you seem so…,” Seungmin made a pained groaning sound as he gestured to you for lack of a better word, “about it, anyway? Shouldn’t you be happy? He’s super nice!” 

You scrunched your nose up, locking your phone in your dismay, not wanting to see his face on his stupid profile mocking you with all his stupid qualifications anyway.

“I don’t know, just kind of feels a little sudden. And I hate the feeling of not knowing if I’m gonna be fired since it’s not up to Mr Bang anymore.” 

“Which one?” Seungmin joked, making you scoff, finding it just a little funny. Only a little. 

Seungmin continued, “you’re just mad because him taking over means you actually have to do work.” 

You shot him a glare, your silence being an acknowledgement that he wasn’t entirely wrong. 

“And because I love Mr Bang! He was such a nice old man that checked in on me and gave me life advice. I’m not gonna get any life advice from someone that’s basically my age.” 

Seungmin huffed in amusement, bringing his hand up to cup his mouth as if to divulge a secret, dropping his voice to a strained whisper, “transfer to the legal department.” 

You sighed, “no, I still love my pay.” 

“Then stop sulking! Chris is the nicest guy I’ve met, you’ll be fine. Just show up to the company dinner tonight and fluff him up a bit,” Seungmin shrugged, “it’ll be smooth sailing from then on.” 

=== 

You figured you should’ve tried to do a lot better to fluff Chris up during the company dinner, instead of just going over to grill the meat for the directors, under the instruction of President Bang. 

The action itself didn’t sit right with Chris, who didn’t understand why it was so imperative to the directors that you be the one to grill the meat until he realised just why they were keeping you there. 

His own uncle was oblivious of course, simply obliging at any chance he got to show off how capable you were (even if it was just grilling meat), however Chris was quick to notice the way they stared at you as you reached between them to grill the meat, your face feeling hot with the steam from the grill. 

“Y/N is very hardworking, graduated at the top of her class in college,” Mr Bang mentioned pointedly, making Chris’ eyebrows raise in surprise. 

“Really? What did you study?” He spoke, knowing very well you were listening, the other directors not paying any attention to learning your background as they prompted you to pour them a drink. You didn’t miss the way his words were accented, remembering hearing from Seungmin that he’d spent a large chunk of his life in Australia. 

Tipping the bottle, you’d answered (albeit a little preoccupied). 

“Law,” you sat back on your heels, “minored in journalism.” 

Chris frowned, not being able to understand why you would’ve chosen to work here as his uncle’s secretary of all things if you had pretty good prospects on your own. 

“How’d you end up working for my uncle, then?” He voiced, your attention diverted when you’d been prompted by a director to take a shot of your own, clinking your glass obnoxiously and leaving you with no choice, an embarrassed flush on your face. 

Taking the shot, you winced at the burn of the drink, glancing back at Chris, who was still looking at you curiously, wondering how you’d felt under the attention of the directors.  

“Did it as a temp job at first,” you told him, “but I guess I realised halfway that I don’t mind it so much, and it paid me pretty well.” 

Chris hummed, you ‘don’t mind’ this? 

One of the directors let out a grunt of distaste, “you shouldn’t worry about that, doll. The job of a secretary is to look pretty, the pride of the company is in its secretaries,” he said, clearly having already had one-too-many drinks, his words leaving an awful aftertaste on your tongue, his hand going over to grasp your shoulder, his hand going down to your arm and squeezing. 

“I always told her she’d do well as a housewife. That way she wouldn’t have to work and just mooch off her husband.” 

You mustered a smile, setting the bottle of drink down and bowing to them, Chris having lost his appetite at the way you’d just let their comments slide. 

“Maybe she prefers mooching off of the directors, instead,” Chris murmured, his sharp tongue getting the better of him, catching your attention as you were walking past him, making you stop in your tracks.  

Chris’ uncle tut his tongue, nudging the boy harshly, making him raise his hands in surrender. 

“What? Just speaking off of observation.” 

You turned around, a surge of confidence arising in you (from where? You weren’t sure, maybe it was the fact that in your eyes he was still what was standing in between you and your possible severance pay), “excuse me?” 

“I’m sorry, was there any untruth in what I said?” Chris turned, his gaze almost challenging you to speak out against the directors, not knowing that it was only serving to spur you on to speak out against him instead. 

 You scoffed, Chris standing up and awaiting your answer, a voice in you screaming at you not to be intimidated by him, especially with the way his head tilted down ever so slightly, his eyebrows raising expectantly. 

“Didn’t know they would just let any rude petty kid run any company these days,” you narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms and straightening your posture. 

Seungmin, who was watching from his table with the legal team, grimaced, deeming Chris’ expression to be anything but friendly at the moment. 

“I don’t know, maybe it’s just a little unbelievable to me that I’m supposed to be answering to someone who just got the company handed to him,” your words were coming out faster than you could help it. I mean, you were probably going to get fired anyway, right? Might as well go down with a fight. 

“You don’t know anything about me,” Chris muttered, his voice firm, annoyance laced in his tone. Your words seemed to have triggered a spark in him, annoyed that you were doubting his abilities, blatantly disrespecting him even after knowing he could be your superior. 

Mr Bang had tapped Chris’ calf harshly, “enough, don’t keep y/n from eating.” 

Ignoring his words, Chris had stepped forward, staring you down as the tension had only thickened between the both of you. 

“But then, what would you know, right? What was that again? Right. What are you here for other than to look pretty, hmm?” He tilted his head at you, flashing you a smile that was practically dripping with sarcasm. 

You practically seethed with anger, your fists clenching as you unfolded your arms, your finger coming up to point at him, “you know what? I’d rather eat beansprouts for the rest of my life than work for you.” You scoffed. 

Chris' amused lilt to his smile was only serving to annoy you even more, making you storm over to your table with the other secretaries, all of them casting you looks of concern or shock that you would have confronted him like that. Picking up your jacket, you’d scoffed, casting him one last look before you left, not expecting to see him again afterwards. 

Well, that was the part you were very very wrong about. 

That night, you’d called your boyfriend over to submit him to a seemingly never-ending rant about Chris, getting a text from Seungmin halfway. 

“I mean, isn’t it good, then? That you can find another job?” Your boyfriend tried to reason, pressing a kiss to your neck as you straddled him where he was sitting leaning against your headboard. 

“That’s not the point,” you insisted, pausing to read the text that Seungmin had sent, oblivious to his urgent kisses trailing up to your jaw. 

seungmin (personal)  2:12am -consider yourself lucky. Spoke to Chan just now, make sure you show up to work tomorrow.- 

“The point is that, he’s arrogant. What? Telling me that I’m only here to look pretty?—“ 

“In his defence, you insulted him first.” 

You glared at your boyfriend, “Yeah, fine. But he provoked me first. And I don’t know, something about him just pisses me off,” you tried to reason, your boyfriend’s kisses beginning to distract you from your anger. 

“You know what, maybe you should just give him a shot. Maybe he’s not as bad as he seems?” 

And so you did as Seungmin had instructed, doing what you would’ve always done, grabbing your boss’ morning coffee before going to the office, ‘leisurely’ making your way upstairs as you tried to avoid any possible suit-clad blond-haired man. 

Upon reaching your desk, you’d set your things under your desk, opening your scheduler and doing a quick run through of Mr Bang’s schedule for the day, grabbing the coffee and knocking on the glass doors before entering. 

“Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see.” You nodded, walking over to place his coffee onto his table.

“You have the board meeting in half an hour, sir,” you informed him.  

“Right, thank you. Would you be a dear and be there to serve the refreshments?” 

You nodded, “yeah, sure.” 

“If all goes as planned, Chan- I mean, Chris, will be taking over from next week onwards. So this week will be the last week i’m here.” 

You frowned, “it’s a shame you’re retiring, you know,” your disappointment was evident in your tone.  

Mr Bang simply waved you off, “it’s about time, I’m sure little Chris will do a good job.” 

You’d kept your mouth shut, nodding as he stood up with his coffee cup in hand, looking at you with a smile, “shall we head down a little earlier, then?” 

You nodded, opening the door for him to exit and following him silently to the venue of the board meeting. You were surprised, to say the least, when you’d reached only to find Chris there already, currently in an animated conversation with one of the directors, smiling like you’d never seen before, dimples showing on his cheeks. 

Excusing yourself quickly, you’d gone to the pantry to prepare the drinks, your time here having made you familiar with the respective directors drink preferences. Carrying your tray carefully, you’d pushed the door open with your hip, seeing all the directors seated already, all seeming fairly comfortable around Chris, only serving to make the feeling of dread build in the pit of your stomach. 

Making your way around the table, you’d distributed the drinks to the directors personally, refusing to make eye contact with Chris as you gave him his stupid cup of tea. 

Once the meeting had started, you’d dismissed yourself outside the room, a part of you trying to listen in on the board meeting but not being able to hear much through the thick panelled glass. You were surprised when barely half an hour had passed and you’d heard applause in the room, peeping through the window to see Mr Bang give you a signal that you could come in. 

Pushing the door open carefully, you saw the directors practically lining up to congratulate Chris, leaving promptly after looking all-too satisfied with the outcome of the meeting. 

Mr Bang was speaking to Chris as the rest of the directors were leaving, “well, I guess this means my work here is as good as done. I’m sure your parents will be thrilled to hear the news,” he pat Chris on the back. 

You were about to head out with Mr Bang, eager to avoid Chris when you’d heard him speak, “Y/N, I’d like to speak with you for a moment. Is that alright?” He cast a look at his uncle, who waved him off. 

“Of course, she’s not my secretary anymore, remember?” You cast Mr Bang a look of distress, seeing him chuckle before giving you a thumbs up, exiting the room happily.  

You winced, turning around so you were facing Chris, seeing him walk over to where you were, holding out a thick bound stack of papers for you to take. 

“What’s this?” 

"A contract. You can pass it to me by the end of the day once you've made your decision. I trust that you're familiar with reading contracts?" he asked as you stared at the papers, flipping and scanning through the print, realising that his terms were considerably more demanding than his uncle. 

"You'll be able to find an additional attachment where I list what I would expect in a secretary. Feel free to consult me if you're unclear about any of them, though I don't think you would need to." 

Your eyes lingered on the section of the contract, stating that you would be on a year of probation, but that the contract could be terminated whenever he felt appropriate. 

"Whenever you deem appropriate?" you scoffed, looking up at him in disbelief. 

He smiled, "very pretty wording, don't you think?" 

"That's all I wanted to say. Remember, I'll expect your response by the end of the day." 

You stared blankly as he shrugged his jacket off, draping it on one arm. 

"Go ahead, what are you waiting for? You can go for your lunch break now," he urged, before his features pulled into a look of realisation, "oh, forgot. That is, unless you would rather eat...what was that again? Beansprouts?" 

Your mouth opened, making as if to retort before you shut your mouth quickly, your eyes widening as he walked over to you, his gaze intense and serious, a contrast to the demeanour he wore while chatting up the director previously. 

"I can handle myself, you know," you attempted to defend yourself, watching as Chris had shrugged. 

"You have one whole year to prove that to me." 

In that one year of working for Chris, you'd learnt a lot of things. Not only about your position as a secretary, but about Chris, ( not to mention, just exactly how spiteful he could be ).  

1. Sleep was a luxury. 

In your first week as his secretary, Chris had surprised you with the sheer rate of progress he was aiming, and moving at. It was as if all the rumours you'd heard before about his work ethic were a gross understatement of his tenacity. 

You'd been having trouble adjusting to his deadlines, especially since he had entrusted more tasks to you. From surprise presentations, to drafting up proposals and reports, not to mention submitting research to him. To you, it felt as if you were doing half the job for him. 

In short, you had never missed Mr Bang more than you did then. 

Of course, Seungmin being your voice of reason, would shut your rants down, claiming it was ‘about time you do your job’, but of course, you loved to complain. Especially since it was someone you didn't have very fond feelings for that was assigning you the work. You grew increasingly irritated in the time you were adjusting to your sleep schedule, which Chris, and your boyfriend had definitely noticed. 

Because of your changes in brain activity levels, you assumed (google could only diagnose so much), whenever sleep came to you, you welcomed it with open arms.  Since waking up had become even more of a chore to run over to the coffee shop and squeeze yourself between the crowd of working adults and panda-eyed college students to get his very specific breakfast order. 

You'd gone home from a birthday party of your boyfriend and your mutual friend, things having gotten a little...out of hand at your boyfriend's apartment since it'd been so long since you'd been able to spend time together, not with you always falling asleep during video calls or refusing them altogether for the sake of getting your work done. You'd missed him, and something about being apart made you miss his touch. 

Jolting awake, (as if your body had been able to tell that your sleep was too smooth), you'd instantly sensed that something was wrong when you saw the light streaming in from behind the curtains, knowing for a fact that you usually woke up when it was still a little dark out. 

Turning around, you'd fumbled for your phone on the bedside table, letting out a loud gasp when you saw the time. You were already a whole half-hour late. 

"Shit!" 

Your boyfriend startled, letting out a groan, his arm still lazily draped over your stomach. 

"Did my alarm ring?" you asked, shoving his hand off of you and groaning, slipping out of bed quickly as you put on your clothes from the day before, not having any more time to go back to your apartment and get a fresh change of clothes. 

"I don't know, I didn't hear anything," you heard your boyfriend mumble from where he lay. 

Cursing, you'd ran over to his bathroom, washing your face quickly, a gasp leaving your mouth as you inspected the angry marks on your neck through the mirror. 

"I hate you so much," you tugged up the collar of your turtleneck, successfully hiding the marks when you’d let your hair down. 

Grabbing your things, you'd sprinted downstairs, hailing the first cab you could see and heading to your office. 

Was he going to fire me? You were still on probation, so there was no reason he couldn't, right? 

You'd fixed your hair anxiously as you jogged into the lobby, your shoes clacking noisily against the floor as you ran into the lift, even debating on whether taking the stairs would have been a better idea as the lift went up at an achingly slow pace. 

Finally reaching your floor, you’d made your way to the meeting room, tossing your bags outside the door and entering with your laptop, notebook and pen, keeping your head down and avoiding Chris’ gaze as he was presenting to the room. 

Taking your seat at the only empty seat left, (unfortunately, closer to the front of the room), you’d let out a small sigh. Expecting to hear Chris comment on your tardiness or whatnot, you opened your laptop, picking up on the minutes where you could. 

Keeping your head down, you’d felt your colleague from the marketing team lean over to you as Chris had given everyone some time to analyse what he was showing on the screen, his lack of a comment making you even more anxious. 

“Your hair’s a mess,” she whispered, making you wince, your hand going up to comb your hair into a ponytail in your attempt to look neater, hearing your colleague gasp. 

“Dude! Put your hair back down, your neck,” she whispered, your eyes immediately darting to Chris’ direction, seeing that he was in fact staring at your jaw and neck as well, turning away quickly, the reddening of his ears giving him away.

Your hands let go of your hair as though you were burned, hearing your colleague snicker beside you, “I see someone had fun last night. Was that why you were late, too?” 

You shushed her as Chris cleared his throat, embarrassment flooding your senses as you continued to take minutes, hoping that he wouldn’t be as mad at you if you showed that you were trying your best. Fat chance, but hey, you could dream. 

Chris had started to assign things that he’d wanted the different departments to focus on for the project at hand, flashing a slide of deadlines that you watched people scramble to confirm with their existing information. You were secretly hoping someone would hold him back with a question so that he was too busy to confront you. 

Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case today. The meeting ended promptly, Chris leaving you in relative silence as you packed up your things, your colleagues giving you a look of sympathy as you followed him silently out of the room back to your desk. 

“In my office, please,” he murmured. 

You fiddled with your fingers, already anticipating for him to fire you. 

“Can you explain to me what happened this morning?” 

Your eyes widened, not daring to meet his gaze as it flickered between anything in the room other than him, “I uh..I didn’t um…I didn’t hear my alarm ring and nobody woke me up so I overslept.” 

Chris’ stare was unwavering, leaning against his desk and folding his arms, “so is it not your responsibility to make sure you show up to work on time?” 

“No, yeah of course it is—“ 

“Then I would like to see you be accountable for your mistakes,” he continued, “I’m not saying you can’t make mistakes, everybody makes mistakes. But if your mistake is what puts an entire room of people at an inconvenience, I would prefer if you were a little more apologetic about it.” 

You’d let a short period of silence fall between the both of you, “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your gaze fixed firmly on his shoelace, “am I fired?” 

Chris let out a small sigh, shaking his head. “No, but, you know, if you ever let anything like this happen again, I won’t hesitate to fire you,” his voice was stern, annoyed almost. 

“And Y/N, if this,” you looked up at him watching him gesture to his neck with his hand before gesturing back to you, making you cower, tugging your collar further up your neck, “is what’s the issue here. I’d suggest you start prioritising.” 

“Sorry. It won’t happen again, I swear,” you rushed to speak, bowing quickly before exiting the room as fast as you could, wanting to tear your hair out in both annoyance and embarrassment. 

You’d jumped when you heard the sound of your desk speaker, Chris’ voice sounding through the phone, “Is there a problem, Y/N?” 

Your eyes widened, rushing over to your desk phone, shaking your head as you pressed the button to reply, “no, no! Not at all. There was just a… a bug here.” 

Chris huffed, bringing his hand up to hide his amusement, watching you scramble to regain your composure. 

2. Chris was a workaholic 

It was seeing (and experiencing) all the late nights in the office and the erratic pattern of his emails on weekends that drew you to this conclusion. His routine of sleeping late and then proceeding to get up at ungodly hours to either get work done or give up on the idea of a smooth sleep, since you were aware that he tended to have trouble sleeping. Not to mention the way it seemed to you as if the top priority in his life was his work, wanting to do his best to get the company to where he wanted it to be. 

After a few months of working for him, it was very clear to you that your job entailed not only taking care of his work, but taking care of him. 

You were going over to the legal team's office to collect the binders Chan had left to them, seemingly needing one of them now, thankful to have spotted Seungmin along the way as he was leaving his desk. 

Shooting you a look of sympathy, he'd peeked his head out to glance at your area, noticing everyone else in your team had gone home already. 

"Working late again?" 

You were sure you looked horrible, with bags under your eyes and your complexion looking dull from lack of sleep, but well, you had to earn a living, right? 

You shot him a pointed look, "you know the rules, can't go home until the boss goes home," you heaved a pained sigh. 

"You know, I'm starting to wonder if he even has a social life," you thought out loud, earning an amused grunt from Seungmin. 

"I could say the same about you." You ignored his comment. 

"What d'you need?" he asked, though you were already making your way to his superior's desk, grabbing the file and leaving a post-it to say it was with Chris. 

"Nothing, just this." You let out a small grunt at the weight of the binder, your wrists aching from all the filing you'd done that morning and afternoon (you never did notice until now how inefficient Chris' uncle's document organization system was). 

"All the best," he gave you a thumbs up, earning a pitiful pout from you before you'd headed back to Chris' office. 

Knocking on his door, you'd heard him murmur for you to come in, pushing the heavy doors open with your shoulder as you shoved your way through the doors,  placing the binder onto the coffee table where he'd had his documents and laptop laid out haphazardly. 

Chan's hair was a mess, likely from running his hands through it as he worked, his tie discarded and the top few buttons of his shirt undone, looking at you with tired eyes. 

He was about to ask you for some water, but you'd seemed to have read his mind, walking over to the table near his desk and pouring him a glass of warm water from the flask. 

"I'm almost done with the filing, but I'll be outside so you can let me know if you need anything." 

You'd felt your pocket buzz with a notification, momentarily taking your attention away from Chris. 

Chris glanced at the files before looking back at you in thought, stopping you before you could exit the room, "actually, can you help me to write a report on this, I'll need this by tomorrow afternoon." 

Knowing Chris' deadlines, that meant he would've needed it by tomorrow morning, which left you no choice other than to start working on it now. 

Chris picked up a small file with a post-it note stuck onto the file, handing it to you. 

"The points are all there. I would've done it myself but by the looks of it this is gonna take a while more than I expected," he sighed, his hands on his hips as he stared at the pile of papers in front of him in disdain. 

Chris never would've admitted that he'd started preparing the post-it notes for you in case he wasn't able to complete his work in time, since he usually opted to write from his head, but he knew you worked better with structure. He'd only realised after starting to do it that it helped him draft the write-ups more concisely, so of course, the reason was always 'for his own convenience', never creating opportunities for you to think he actually tried accommodating to you. 

"This current arrangement is very un-environmentally friendly," you mumbled, staring at the papers as well. 

"I'll go get this done now," you gave him a nod, exiting his office as you pulled your phone from your pocket, the text from your boyfriend practically glaring at you, asking if you were able to meet that night. 

10:47pm - sorry, working late :( gotta work on a report due tomorrow morning - 

Biting back your disappointment at having to bail on your boyfriend again, you'd nodded resolutely, pulling up your delivery app to order food for Chris before you started on the report lest he start to get irritable because he was hungry. 

And lastly, the point you couldn't quite seem to wrap your head around, was that 

3. He was very nice, just...not so much to you. 

After the oversleeping incident from before, it was safe to say you'd never let a similar mistake repeat itself. You were constantly making sure you were alert and responsive to anything Chris could possibly throw to you (and he knew this too). 

The only downside Chris saw to this, was that it seemed as though your attitude towards the directors hadn't changed. Still swallowing their disgusting comments and serving them with a smile, even if they were looking everywhere but your face. It irked Chris. And it irked him even more that the only one you seemed to serve without a smile, was him. 

Unbeknownst to him, you'd shared the same sentiments. 

"Do you ever look at someone and wonder what is going on in their head?" you spoke. 

Seungmin snorted, "wait, are you talking about the meme or..." your lack of a response made Seungmin follow your gaze (or glare) to where Chris was seated at the other end of the table, giggling and smiling as he spoke with the other secretaries. 

"Ah," Seungmin nodded, understanding now why your spoon hadn't moved an inch from your bowl, your grip around it almost death-like. 

"What are you so mad about? He's not doing anything?" 

You shot Seungmin a pointed look, your voice lowering to a murmur, "can't you see it? With them he's all rainbows and unicorn shit but with me it's like just smiling would kill him." 

You heard the secretaries letting out giggles and impressed sounds at something Chris had just said, the sound itself enough to make you annoyed. 

Seungmin's eyebrows furrowed, looking at you in scepticism, "you know the secretaries are only being nice because they're interns, right? I heard from one of them that they're actually really scared of him." 

Seungmin brought his chopsticks to his mouth, taking a piece of food from your bowl that he knew you weren't going to eat anyway, "especially after they saw how he spoke to you during the meeting the other day,"

You scoffed, "good to know that I was the warning." 

Your phone buzzed, signalling a text from your boyfriend. Strangely enough, it'd been a while since you'd texted him, since you were busy with work and he was busy with school. 

Ignoring it initially, too distracted by Chris, it wasn't long before you saw his caller ID show up on the screen, getting Seungmin's attention. 

"I think you should answer that," he gestured, making you glance around the table in your hesitance, not knowing if it would be rude to just exit halfway. 

Picking up the phone-call, you'd turned your head, lowering your volume to a murmur, "hello?" 

"Hey, can we talk? I really need to tell you something." 

You winced, "is it urgent? I'm at a team dinner right now." 

Your boyfriend sighed, scoffing, "it really is always work with you, huh." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

You glanced at the table, standing up to excuse yourself. Chris's expression read confusion, eavesdropping on a secretary asking what happened, Seungmin replying that it was your boyfriend calling. 

You'd made your way outside the restaurant, Chris glancing in your direction and spotting you walk past the restaurant's windows, a part of him shaking off whatever curiosity that lingered in him as he focused on his conversation. After all, you did tell him you could handle yourself, right? 

Where you were, you'd moved to a quieter spot outside the restaurant, "okay, I can talk now. What's up?" 

You kicked at the ground absently as you awaited his reply. 

"Look, are you free to meet tonight? There's something I need to tell you." 

"Uh..." you glanced into the restaurant, making eye contact with Chris before looking away, "I've got to work later, though. I need to get some research done for this review that i'm behind on, I don't wanna meet you if i'm just gonna end up on my computer while you're there, you know?" 

Your boyfriend nodded, "you know, that's kind of what i wanted to talk to you about." 

"Oh," a feeling of dread was building in your stomach, recognising your boyfriend's tone to be the one he used whenever he was talking about something serious. 

The first time you heard it was when you witnessed him on a work phone-call, the second being how he spoke to your parents the first time they'd met, but this time, you had a feeling you knew what was coming. 

"Let's break up." 

You fell silent, not knowing how to respond to his words. 

"Is it, um.... is it because of my work?" You asked, a part of you not being able to come to terms with the fact that it could have been your fault, "because you know I can't do anything about that." 

Your boyfriend sighed, "I know. I'm just talking about how you've been so emotionally invested in your work you don't even have the energy to maintain this relationship." 

You frowned, "what, what do you want me to do, quit my job? Will that be better for you?" 

"Look, i've been seeing someone," he began. Your heart sank. 

"And i'd be lying if I said that wasn't part of the reason. But... it was only when I started seeing her that I realised... things between us just weren't the same as before." 

Your heart felt heavy, a part of you knowing that he was making it a lot easier to be mad at him by confessing what he did, but another part of you couldn't help but prompt him further. 

"When did it start?" 

"That doesn't matter-" 

You sighed, taking your lower lip between your teeth, "it's fine, I just wanna know." 

"Fine, it was about a month in from you working for your new boss." 

You nodded slowly, still trying to process his words. You weren't quite sure what came over you when you saw Chris exiting the restaurant, turning to face your direction and spotting you in the alley. But it was as if you were so mad at yourself, mad at him, mad at your boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend now), that you'd ended the call, shoving your phone into the pocket of your blazer before heading over to where Chris was. 

"You guys aren't going home?" you heard one of the secretaries ask as you and Chris had approached his car, his driver already sitting in the car and waiting. 

Chris shook his head with a smile, "nope, we're heading back to the office." 

You mustered a smile as you bid them goodbye, you guessed this was probably the best time to bury yourself in your work as a poor coping mechanism after a breakup, as far as movie breakups went.  

The car-ride was silent, despite the pinging of your phone, making you switch it to silent mode halfway, earning a curious look from Chris, though he didn't make to ask you about it. 

Upon reaching the office, the both of you had gone back into your clockwork routine, as you sat in his office working on your computer and scribbling down on your notebook the important details you wanted him to check. Chris found that your background in law and journalism made it a lot easier whenever it came to reading and condensing information, which had only allowed him to trust you more when it came to getting tasks like that done, saving him precious time he could spend working on other things. 

The buzzing of your phone was growing more frequent, though it was as if you were oblivious to it now as you typed away at your computer. 

"Right, can you help to postpone tomorrow afternoon's meeting, and help me to make a reservation at the steak place, 2 people." 

You hadn't made to move, pulling your phone out but having gotten distracted at the multitude of missed calls and texts just because your boyfriend wanted to 'make sure you were okay'. Please. 

"Hello? Can you hear me?" you heard Chris call, snapping you out of your daze as his gaze searched your expression, trying to read your emotions. 

"Sorry, can you repeat that? I didn't hear you." 

Chris sighed, his annoyance at your phone that had lit up with a call again getting the better of him, "you know I don't ask you to stay later just for you to waste my time, you know." 

Your gaze hardened. There it was, the side of Chris that you had the 'privilege' of being at the brunt of, nowhere near the smiley giggly Chris you witnessed at the restaurant just now. 

"I said I was sorry. What do you want me to do?" 

Chris huffed, his gaze darting to your phone as he spoke, "reservation for 2 people tomorrow afternoon, the steak place my mom likes. Postpone tomorrow afternoon's appointment with Director Lee." He told you slowly, his tone as if speaking to a young child, which only served to piss you off even more. 

"Who's calling you?" he asked. 

You shook your head in dismissal, "my...uh..." you weren't sure how to respond, watching dumbly as he made his way to where you were, lifting your phone to read the contact before letting out a huff. 

"Okay, well you can tell your boyfriend that if you're gonna be this distracted at work, you can kiss your night goodbye." 

You inhaled deeply, absolutely upset but knowing there wasn't much you could do about it. You loved your job, even though you hated to admit it. Ever since Chris came in, you were getting a lot more work experience and exposure, especially with how he would make it mandatory for you to attend certain language courses that would help him whenever you accompanied him on networking events or business galas. 

And in that moment, you couldn't help but think back to what he'd said the first time he'd scolded you when he'd told you to figure out your priorities. Maybe your boyfriend called you at the right time, maybe you just weren't ready to focus on things other than your career at this point of time. 

Turning your phone off, you'd made sure Chris saw that it was off, raising your hands up in surrender, "done. I'll book your stupid reservation now." You stalked out before Chris could chime in with a 'watch your tone'. 

=== 

You'd been working for Chris for what was coming to 2 years now. The company had been reaping the results of their hard work for a while now, and you were thankful that even though you weren't as busy as before, you still managed to keep your job. Other than the fact that Chris’ hair was now back to dark brown, not much else had changed. 

Although, one tiny change you were starting to wish for was that Chris would at least try to make things a little more bearable for you. 

You were currently at a meeting with the directors where Chris was presenting the overview of the company's performance in the past month. You would have to say you were pretty satisfied with the work you'd both done on that, working a lot more efficiently now compared to when you'd first started out. 

Your silent admiration of the presentation was interrupted when one of the directors summoned you over to ask for a cup of coffee.

Doing as you were told ( much to Chris' dismay ), you'd gone and come back in record time with his hot cup of coffee, bending down and making your way to where the director sat, not wanting to prevent any of them from seeing what Chris was presenting. 

While he was presenting, it didn't take Chris very long to realise why the director had kept asking you for things, your position from where you were squatting next to him making it all-too-easy for him to ogle at you without you noticing. 

For some reason, this seemed to have gotten on Chris' nerves, especially because that director's secretary was simply minding her own business at the back of the room. 

Did Chris think what you were wearing that day was nice? He'd say he didn't but of course he did. But unlike the director, he preferred not to be so blatant about it, especially because you were always so rude towards him. 

You'd tensed momentarily when the director had grabbed your arm, about to get up when you heard Chris' voice get louder. 

"Y/N, I'd appreciate if you would stop distracting the directors and go back to your seat." 

(Later on, Seungmin would be struggling to hold back his laughter in the printing room when Chan told him to tell you to button up your blouse a little more. 

“Why can’t you just tell her yourself?” 

Chan scoffed, “knowing her, she’s just gonna think I was looking at her… chest or something.” 

Seungmin narrowed his eyes at Chan teasingly, “well, were you?” 

Chan waved him off with a groan, “just tell her, okay? The directors are having a field day with her looking like that.”)

You'd almost scoffed at the way the director had immediately let go of you, and you straightened up quickly, heading back to sit with the other secretaries. 

"That was harsh," you heard one of the secretaries murmur to you, making you shrug. 

"Whatever, not like I expected more from him anyway." 

(You did, you totally did. You'd kill for him to be less grating with his words). 

After the meeting, you'd felt a phone ring in your bag, pulling it out to see that Chris' mom was calling, obviously not having been able to reach him. Making your way to where he was, you'd interrupted his packing of his things. 

"Your mom is calling you," you'd told him out of habit, holding his phone out for him to take, jumping slightly when you'd heard one of the directors let out a dismayed grunt. 

"Is that any way to talk to your boss?" 

Your eyes widened, Chris seeming to be enjoying the situation play out before him as you regained your composure, looking back at Chris with a sickly sweet smile on your face. In front of the directors, you couldn't act up like how you usually did when it was just the both of you, so you had no choice but to be all smiles

"President Bang, your mother is calling you," you told him, and if you were annoyed, you didn't show it, having years of practice from dealing with the directors. 

"uh-huh," Chris smirked, taking the phone from your hands and answering it as he gestured for you to help him gather his papers. 

"No, mom. I’ve told you already, i’m really fine with how things are now. I'm not going on another one." 

Not that you cared, but you had to admit you were kind of curious as to what he was so insistently refusing.

"Yes, okay, bye," he hung up, handing the phone back to you. 

You'd tried your best to suppress your curiosity, seeing as he was about to be late for his next meeting with one of his friends if he hadn't hurried. 

Fixing your blouse, you'd carried your laptop in your arm as you walked with him back to his office, with you going into the lift first, Chris having chosen the wrong time to step in as a girl you recognised as one of the interns had done so too, the number of people squeezing into the lift causing her to jerk her arm, her coffee landing unceremoniously on Chris’ tie and shirt. 

Chris let out a hiss at the temperature of the liquid, eliciting a long string of apologies from the girl. You knew that if it was you that had spilled the coffee, he would be going on and on about carelessness now, but the intern obviously wasn’t you, and so you watched in envy as Chris had given her a smile, dismissing her apologies quickly. 

“It’s fine, really. I just hope you still have some coffee left to drink,” he laughed. 

Not only was he not upset, but he was joking with her too? 

You scoffed, rolling your shoulders back as you’d watched the numbers on the elevator rise till it reached your floor, the girl looking scared for her life when you’d cast her a look, bowing to you apologetically. 

“Where did you keep the spare change of clothes?” Chris asked as he’d begun loosening his tie. 

You hadn’t responded as he let you walk before him into his office, making your way over to one of the cupboards at the side of the room and opening it, pulling out a hanger with a nicely ironed set of work clothes. 

“You can go and get changed, I’ll wait here,” you murmured, Chris walking over to where you were and giving you his stained tie. 

God, you hoped his dry-cleaning run wouldn’t make you late for your lunch appointment. 

Looking at his tie, you brought it up closer to your face to inspect the material, it was a well-made tie, you had to say. Not too skinny, the material feeling almost luxurious in your hold, tempting you to put it on in your boredom. 

Hanging it round your neck, you mustered your best ‘Chris accent’.

“You should be accountable for your mistakes! Don’t you know how many people you’re inconveniencing? Now I have a tie that reeks of coffee, look,” you held up the tie with a gasp, “and my secretary’s gonna be late for her lunch meeting!” You pointed accusatorially at the small black penholder that sat on his desk. 

“Yeah! Do you know how much you’re inconveniencing me? I don’t ask you to show up to work to waste my time—“ 

You’d stopped in your tracks when you heard Chris clearing his throat, grimacing as you tried to regain your composure, taking off the tie as quickly as you could, holding it tightly in your palm as you turned to face him. 

“Having fun?” 

“No,” you shot back quickly, not even wanting to ask how long he’d been standing there. 

Walking over to you, he’d handed you his stained shirt, his expression like that of a parent that had caught their kid doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. 

“You know, sometimes I wish you’d talk back to the directors like how you talk back to me.” 

Your eyes widened, confused at his sudden comment, but not having the time to respond as Chris continued. 

“Get these dry-cleaned over lunch. The stain’ll be harder to get out the longer you wait.” 

You huffed, already walking away from him, “well, when you say it like that I’d might as well go do it now.” 

You'd been keeping yourself busy with replying emails when you heard the elevator ding, the sound of footsteps getting louder before you saw a considerably young, suit-clad man walking towards your desk. 

"I'm here to see Chris? I'm Director Kang," he told you, though you didn't need him to introduce himself, knowing very well who he was. 

"He's in there," you held a finger up to signal him to wait as you picked up your desk telephone, pressing a button to page Chris. 

"Director Kang's here to see you." 

"Okay, send him in."

Chris closed the work he was doing on his desktop, making his way over to the leather couches as he saw his friend enter the room. 

"Yo, when were you planning on telling me about your hot secretary?" 

Chris' eyebrows raised, "didn't think that was something worth mentioning."

"Well, why not?" his friend frowned, his features pulling into one of shock, "wait, don't tell me... you guys are dating?" 

Chris rolled his eyes, "no, we're not. And please, for both our sakes, don't try anything funny with her." 

The director was about to respond, interrupted by your knocking on the door, the door opening slightly so you could enter. 

"Can I get you anything? Like a drink? Coffee? Tea?" you asked. 

The director simply looked at you curiously, sitting with his ankle resting on his other knee, "only if you'd care to join me." 

Chris glared at his friend, shutting him up quickly before he could say anything more, "coffee for him, I don't want a drink."

You nodded, exiting quickly.

"What did you come to tell me about?" 

"Must I have a reason to come and visit my beloved friend?" 

Chris rolled his eyes, "my time is precious." 

This made the director scoff, "is that your excuse now? Anyway, I came to ask if you were going for Brian's wedding next weekend." 

"Oh, yeah, right. He asked me about it last night and I said I would go, you?" 

Director Kang rolled his eyes, "can't, I've got a business trip that weekend." 

Chris hummed in acknowledgement, "that reminds me. I should get a gift for them soon. Who'd he say he was marrying again?" 

"This girl he met at work, she's nice. But, you know, not my type." 

As if that wasn't enough, Director Kang continued, "anyway, are you bringing a date?" 

He was interrupted once again by the sound of your knocking, the door opening as you made your way over to them, bending to place the cup of coffee down onto the table, making Director Kang gesture to you with his head, mouthing 'you should bring her'. 

Waving him off, Chris was eager to get Director Kang’s attention away from you, almost as if wanting to protect you from getting swayed by him, knowing the outcome was never too bright. 

"Y/N, you can go for an early lunch break today." 

Your eyebrows raised, the prospect seeming almost too good to be true. Since when was he so nice? 

"Huh? But I still have some stuff to hand the legal team..." you sounded unsure, though you did consider this to be luck since you were supposed to meet one of your friends from college for lunch today. 

Chris gave you a stern look, waving you off, making you raise your hands in surrender. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll go.” 

On your way out, you’d texted your friend that you were gonna be able to meet earlier, pleasantly surprised when she’d told you she was already in the area and that she was able to head over now. 

You’d managed to drop off Chris’ clothes for dry-cleaning before heading to the restaurant, spotting your friend already seated at your table. 

“Hey! Wow, you look great!” She told you, giving you a hug in greeting. 

“Feel a lot better compared to last year,” you joked, making her frown. 

“Your boss still giving you trouble?” 

Shrugging, you’d taken a seat, “nothing out of the ordinary. Seems like it’s part of his daily routine to annoy me.” 

She laughed, “I ordered our food already, if you don’t mind.” 

Shaking your head, you waved in dismissal, “no, yeah, I don’t mind. Thanks. Anyway, you look pretty good yourself, how’ve you been?” 

You didn’t miss the way she’d leaned closer to you, tucking her hair behind her ear in a pointed gesture, drawing your attention to the large gemstone on her ring. 

Your eyes widened, “no way.” 

She nodded, “I wanted to tell you sooner but you were so busy! I was glad enough I managed to squeeze in this lunch with you,” she told you, making you pout. 

“When’s the wedding?” You asked. 

“Next week. We’re going to have it in this beautiful church out of town, really really nice place,” she told you, “really romantic, too,” she added as an afterthought. 

You let out a deep sigh, “I hope you’re not going where I think you’re going with this.” 

She gave you a scandalised look, pausing as the waiter had come to deliver your food, “first of all, Brian has a lot of good-looking friends!” 

You gave her a look, prompting her to continue, “well, not that I’ve seen all of them but he tells me that a lot of them are single! And you know who else is single…” she pointed her finger towards you with an overly excited glint to her grin. 

“We’ve been through this a million times, Eujin. I’ve tried but it’s really hard to find a guy that’s willing to cope with… you know, my kind of schedule,” you gave her a tired (wistful) sigh, “and with my schedule, I doubt I have the time, not to mention the energy to date.” 

Eujin’s lips twisted into a frown, “but it’s been so long! Don’t you want to get back in the dating scene?” 

You scoffed, cutting into your food harshly before taking a bite. 

“Of course I do. But the last time I went on a date the guy basically shat on me for being a workaholic,” you huffed, “I mean, my boss’ working hours means my working hours, shouldn’t they just shit on him instead? Why is it my fault that he’s basically destroyed what I have left of a social life.” 

Eujin shot you a look of sympathy, “I’d say I pitied you, but it’s not like you can’t get a job anywhere else, you know?” 

You’d kept your mouth shut at that, “I know… it just… I can’t just leave when I’ve already gotten so used to how things work here.” 

Of course that was one reason, but you would never admit that there was a nagging inside of you that didn't trust Chris to look after himself if you weren't here, remembering how he'd overworked himself during a crucial period after he took over the company, and you'd found him passed out on his desk when you showed up to work that day. 

You'd sort of made a silent promise that as much as you didn't like him, you still cared for him in a way. In the way a secretary would care for her boss, totally. 

You decided to change the topic, not wishing to talk about your hopeless love life at the moment. 

“What’s the program gonna be like?” 

Eujin’s eyes lit up, setting her cutlery down as she clasped her hands together, “Okay, so. The plan is for it to be a sort of weekend-long thing,” she told you, holding her finger up. 

“Firstly, on Thursday night we’ll have a little girls night type thing, and then Friday is the rehearsal dinner, Saturday will kind of be a little rest day and then Sunday is the actual wedding,” she said, now holding up four fingers to you. 

Your head was spinning at the (rather enticing) thought of taking basically 4 days off of work, before the dread settled in that you had to ask Chris for permission to take those days off. 

“I hope my boss will let me take time off…” you murmured, already rehearsing in your head possible ways on how you could tell him. 

Eujin gave you a resolute look, “you can do it! If he says no just let me know, I’ll go over to your fancy office and fight whoever he is myself.” 

=== 

“How many days?” 

Chris had asked at your desk as he prepared to leave to meet his mom for lunch since she’d happened to be in the business district. 

You fiddled with your pen anxiously, “uh..4 days? Technically 3 and a half. But 2 of those are weekends I just need you to make sure you just don’t bother me on that weekend it’s a really important weekend.” 

Chris narrowed his eyes at you, unsure why you were so insistent on him leaving that weekend alone, nodding slowly. 

Whatever, he figured, she’s just lucky I’m busy that weekend too. 

“Okay.” 

“I swear I’ll—wait, you’re okay with it?” 

Chris shrugged, straightening his tie, “yeah. I’ve got something on that weekend too.” 

You let out a surprised hum, “oh… cool. Thanks…Mr Bang,” you added as a force of habit, not wanting to risk getting scolded for ‘insubordination’ again just because you didn’t call him by his honorific. 

Chris huffed, leaving before you could see his ears reddening. 

Over lunch, Chris’ mom had been inspecting him carefully as he ate, as if the answer to her worries lay in every piece of sushi he ate. 

“Is there something you’re not telling me? Are you… gay?” She asked, continuing, “because if you are you know you can just tell me, instead of constantly upsetting the girls I try to set you up with.” 

Chris gave her a unamused look, “mom, I’ve told you a thousand times. I would really love to date, but it’s hard to find someone with a similar work ethic as myself, that can keep up with my… lifestyle and who really understands my needs, you know?” 

This made Chris’ mom perk up, “that’s it! Why don’t you just date your secretary!” 

Chris almost choked on his sushi, fumbling to grab his glass of water to calm himself down and compose himself. 

“What,” he spoke between coughs, “gave you that idea?” 

His mom looked at him in disbelief, “whatever you just said, you were basically describing her, no? And plus, we’ve heard a lot of wonderful things about her from your uncle.”

Chris couldn’t help but entertain the possibility in his head. It was true, you did work at a very efficient pace with him, not to mention how spending almost everyday in such close contact with him made you understand his own needs and wants even better than he did on occasions. Chris shook his head, that wasn’t possible, right? You looked as though you’d absolutely hated him half the time, he’d be expecting too much from you if he’d expected you to fall for him. 

Chris shook his head, dismissing the thought from both him and his mom’s minds quickly, “no, mom. I’m fine with how things are between us right now.” 

Chris had let you leave the office earlier on Thursday, (much to your surprise) allowing you to have ample time to pack your bags and get a cab to the destination, Eujin having taken the liberty and helped you book your hotel beforehand. 

Upon reaching, you’d texted Eujin saying you’d reached. 

eujin 6:54pm -yay!! Lets just chill in one of our rooms, we can discuss it in the chatgroup!!- 

Trust her to be excitable even about the smallest things. 

You saw an incoming text from Seungmin. 

seungmin (personal)  6:54pm -what where r u I went over to find u but both u and Chris weren’t here- 

6:55pm -im at a friends wedding, took the weekend off-

seungmin (personal)  6:55pm -wow finally using your employee perks nvm then have fun- 

You’d checked in, marvelling at the cozy yet elegant look of the hotel as you made your way through the lobby, letting the lift take you up to your hotel room floor. 

Changing into more comfortable clothes, you’d seen the group chat saying to gather in Eujin’s room, with mentions of ordering pizza. Considering this was your first weekend away from work in a very, long while, you were determined to make the most of it, heading over to Eujin’s room. 

You hadn’t expected to be welcomed as warmly as you were, hearing comments of ‘we were so happy you could make it!’ Or ‘thank God you could take time off!’, sharing the same sentiments as them as you’d let Eujin pull you onto the bed, the softness of the sheets and pillows instantly making a content sigh leave you. 

“I ordered room service,” Eujin sing-songed, gesturing to the Champagne bottles and whatnot on the tray next to the bed. 

“I’ll have one,” you raised your hand, earning a laugh from one of your friends. 

“Tired from work?”  

You let out a loud groan, nodding. This made Eujin nod gravely, “I swear, if I ever see your boss in real life, I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.” 

You scoffed, “you don’t even know what he looks like.” You’d gratefully accepted the glass of champagne that was handed to you. "and plus, he's not that bad, other than the fact that he finds joy in pissing me off. He just works too hard in my opinion." 

You’d spent your time enjoying the once chance you could relax to your heart’s content without feeling dread at having to wake up early the following day, enjoying yourself as you leant against the headboard of the bed, listening to stories about how they’ve been and how all of them were either planning on getting engaged soon, were in long-term relationships or already married. 

“You guys make me wanna get married too,” you pouted, earning bouts of laughter from them. 

“You’d have to actually date to do that, you know,” they told you pointedly, making you sigh. 

“You’re basically married to your job, already,” your friend chimed in, making you laugh. 

“Seems like that, doesn’t it? I was super shocked he’d let me have the weekend off, usually he’d be swarming me with emails about now.” 

“I’m excited to see Brian’s friends tomorrow, maybe there’ll be someone that catches your eye,” Eujin told you, making you shrug. 

“Just out of curiosity, though, what are you looking for in a guy? You know, we could help you keep an eye out too.” 

You hummed, shrugging. 

“I’ve never really thought of a specific…criteria I guess. I guess I’d just like someone that’s kind, looks out for me, doesn't underestimate me...sort of has the same lifestyle as me? Since it’s honestly been really hard to find someone that doesn’t hate my schedule.” 

You'd almost scoffed at the way your brain had refused to picture anyone else other than Chris while you thought about it, figuring it was probably because he was the only guy you were in constant contact with. 

Eujin looked at you resolutely, “we’ll do our best,” she held up a fist in an action to cheer you on. 

You shrugged, You figured maybe going into this with an open mind would do you some good. 

You changed the topic, directing the focus back to Eujin, “whatever, let’s just have fun, it’s your big day soon, let’s just celebrate!”

===

At the rehearsal dinner, you had yet to arrive, since you’d spent a little longer getting ready, choosing to use your opportunity to dress up a little more, not having the luxury to do so during your usual work days. 

You had texted Eujin that you were on the way with some of the other bridesmaids, her attention directed elsewhere when her fiancé had called her over. 

“Hey, wanted you to meet some of my friends from law school.” 

While being introduced, Eujin couldn’t help but wonder if they were single, remembering your mentioned criteria from the night before. 

“Oh, so are you guys all working in the law sector now?” 

Her husband shook his head, “All of them, except Chan here. He’s the ceo of Bang Mobile Media company.” 

Eujin’s eyes widened, glancing at the brown-haired boy cautiously, as if sizing him up. Y/N worked in a mobile company too, right? If she was remembering this correctly. Was it mobile or broadcasting? 

“Oh, wow. That’s impressive.” 

Eujin had let them introduce themselves more, not being able to help but think that Chan was nice, friendly, and rich on top of that? 

“I don’t get it, how are you single? You’re basically the whole package!” She wondered out loud, making Chan flush, giggling as he shook his head. 

Her husband seemed to have begged to differ, “Chan is incorrigible when it comes to his love life.” 

Eujin raised her eyebrows in surprise, not having expected someone so good-looking to have such a fate, “really? Is there a reason behind that?” 

“He’d never dated much, even back when he was in Australia. He was always super dedicated to his work,” this had served to make Eujin even more positive about this guy’s prospects as a suitor for you. 

“Oh my god, you’re exactly like one of my friends, I should totally introduce her to you when she comes later.” 

“Hey, cut him some slack,” one of his friends had spoken up, “Chan can’t cheat on his job.” 

Eujin felt her phone vibrate signalling a notification, pulling it out to see that you’d arrived already, excusing herself and practically running over to the entrance of the venue. “Chan, you stay put, I have just the perfect girl to introduce you to!” 

“Y/N! You have to come quick, I think I found the perfect guy for you.” 

Your eyes widened, clutching onto the chain of your bag as you followed her into the room. 

“He’s really nice, and friendly, and he’s good-looking! Really cute dimples! And on top of that he’s loaded. I’m so excited for you to meet him.” 

Letting her drag you along, you’d distracted yourself with the atmosphere of the area, wondering just how much it would cost to book a venue like this, tugging down your dress that was hiking up from practically running after Eujin. 

“Hey, I have someone I’d like you to meet. Chan, this is Y/N,” Eujin chirped, the names causing the both of your heads to shoot up, locking eyes with each other as a feeling of doom built in the pit of your stomach. 

Your eyes widened in panic, glancing down at your attire, back to him, who was dressed in a flowy black shirt that you were sure cost more than your one week’s pay, the top few buttons of his shirt undone to reveal a simple silver necklace, and fitted black pants, your gaze landing on the small silver rings on his ears, almost feeling as though you were looking at a different person. 

Chris thought so too, seeming to have the same panic as you as he tried not to let his gaze linger too long on your dress, nodding his head at you in greeting, “nice to uh…meet you.” 

His ears had felt hot as you nodded back at him, almost startling when Eujin had cheered, leaning over to whisper to you, “I’ll make sure you guys get to sit next to each other.” 

You were about to protest when she’d left, leaving you standing at the bar with Chris. 

“So, Y/N, how do you know the bride to be?” 

You gulped, wanting to slap yourself for how your gaze had kept returning to Chris, unable to shake the feeling of needing to be in work-mode now with his presence before you. 

“Oh, uh, we were friends since college,” you answered simply. 

“Cool, did you guys have the same major?” Chris had to stop himself from glaring at his friend, a strange feeling inside of him as he recognised the look on his friend’s face and his posture to be that which he used whenever he was interested in a girl. 

You shook your head, “uh, not quite. I majored in law but she majored in journalism.” You tried to respond as calmly as you could, not being able to shake Chris’ gaze off of you, feeling as though at any moment he was going to call you out for something you weren’t even aware of.

You saw the guy practically light up at the mention of law. 

“Woah, that’s really coincidental. All of us met in law school,” he gestured to the group of them, making you laugh nervously. 

“Where are you guys um… dates?” You asked, immediately regretting the question when you saw the way Chris was practically glaring at you. 

You didn’t understand why he was glaring at you, wasn’t it a valid question? 

“We didn’t bring dates, unfortunately. Did you?” 

You shook your head, making Chris snort. “Does it look like she brought a date? She literally came in alone.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure where his spitefulness was coming from, especially when his friend was just trying to make conversation with you. 

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Yeah, pity. Maybe I’d have time to date if I wasn’t always so busy running around doing shit for my boss,” you cast a pointed glance at him, bringing a hand up to nonchalantly run it through your hair. 

Chris smirked, two could play at this game.

“Same here, I’d probably have the time to date too if my secretary wasn’t always causing trouble.” 

“Your secretary?” His friend spoke up, “I heard from someone she was pretty cute, and nice too.” 

You’d almost wanted to agree, realising that if you did it would put you in a pretty compromising position, simply acting surprised. 

“If I had a secretary like that, I’d just date her,” one of his friends had spoken up, making your eyes widen, wracking your brain for possible responses. 

“Who knows, are you a workaholic?” You asked pointedly, earning amused grunts and laughs from his friends, “ah… it’d be too bad if I was your secretary, then. I absolutely can’t stand dating workaholics.” 

Chris narrowed his eyes at you, the both of you knowing you were just as bad at him, replying calmly, “oh, you can’t stand dating workaholics? Me neither.” 

You were thankful that Eujin had given you a small break when she'd invited everyone to take their seats so dinner could be served, wincing when you'd ended up sitting next to Chris out of habit, momentarily forgetting that you weren't attending a networking session. 

You'd hoped and prayed that you wouldn't slip up more than you already did. As much as you'd wanted to spite him, he was still your boss, and you knew he'd give you an earful for even the slightest hint of disrespect ( which you were sure you'd surpassed already ). 

Focusing on the gorgeous food they'd served you, you saw the waiter pick up the bottle of wine, pouring it for you. 

Having been oblivious, the waiter was about to pour a glass for Chris as well, making your secretary-instincts kick in, your arm darting across Chris to stop the waiter in time. 

"No, Mr Bang, you shouldn't drink that." 

Chris would have looked fairly amused if he wasn't stressed out by your proximity, with you practically leaning over him to speak to the waiter. 

You'd cursed internally, wincing at the way Chan's friend had looked at you, tilting his head in confusion. 

"Mr Bang? And how do you know his alcohol preference?" 

Chris let out a nervous giggle as you straightened up, "uh...well um like...you know it's a really funny story actually... we're um..." 

Not being able to bear his awkward fumbling any longer, you'd butt in, "We work in the same company. Yeah." 

You were lucky his friend had bought it, simply nodding in understanding, "no wonder, you guys were being so weird just now." 

Chris scoffed, "what weird?" 

You turned around in your chair, pretending to pick up your bag, "stop, you're making it worse," you murmured so he could hear you, making him bring his glass of water to his lips. 

One of your girl friends had spoken up, halfway through the meal, "wait, i just realised. If you guys work in the same office, then you must know her boss right? That dude is crazy. We all thought it was a miracle that she could take time off for the wedding," 

You glared at your friend, trying to subtly shake your head in your attempt to stop her, but she was oblivious, "she doesn't like it when we badmouth him but it's true! Ever since she started working for him it's like her social life just disappeared. Her boss is always her first priority." 

You'd never related more to how people said they wished the ground would swallow you whole. Looking down at your food, you'd tried to remain nonchalant about it, but Chris who was next to you was looking at your friend with wide eyes. 

"Oh, really? What else does she say about him?" 

You laughed nervously, waving your hands in dismissal, "nothing that concerns you."

Chris turned to you, dropping his volume to a murmur, "is that so? because i'm hearing all this and i'm getting the feeling it definitely concerns me." 

You let out a huff of anxious laughter, bringing your glass to your lips, consuming your drink in sips because your boss was sitting next to you, but secretly wishing you could down it all in one go. 

Soon enough, all your anxious sipping had made you reach an empty glass, the waiter coming over to refill it for you, earning an eyebrow raise from Chris. 

"Leave me alone," you huffed. 

Chris simply laughed, "what? I didn't say anything." 

You'd tried to pay attention to the proceedings of the wedding rehearsal, and after dessert was served people had started to mingle around more, the drinks having started to kick in as you'd felt a lot more relaxed. 

It was safe to say Eujin was as well, going around to talk to the guests and thank them for coming out of town for the celebrations. 

Soon enough, you were almost done with your fourth glass, oblivious to the way Chris was looking at you, impressed yet concerned. Feeling skinny arms drape over your shoulders, you turned your head to see none other than Eujin, cooing at you affectionately. 

"Tell your boss a huge thank you for letting you have this weekend. I couldn't even get to see you on my birthday or for the engagement party, but i'm so so glad you're here now." 

You couldn't help but glance at Chris, knowing that you'd missed both of those events because you were helping him with something. The first being when he'd almost overworked himself enough to warrant a visit to the hospital since he hadn't been sleeping or eating well (after that, you swore you'd make sure this man was getting his three meals if you could help it), and the second time being when you had to accompany him to a keynote session out of town. 

You were starting to think maybe there was a little more to unpack behind your reasons why you stayed working for Chris Bang. Your only consolation at this point of time being that the rehearsal dinner was ending soon, meaning that you could finally escape the suffocating tension you were feeling. 

"Wanna hitch a ride back together? I drove here." 

You'd almost declined, feeling as if you didn't have a right to be in his car if it wasn't work-related. Chris had seemed to sense your hesitation, simply not waiting for a reply and walking off, hoping his smile wasn't too obvious when he'd heard you jogging to meet his pace. 

He'd surprised you even more when he'd opened the passenger door for you, shutting it gently after you'd gotten in. 

You'd given in to the comfort of his car almost immediately, more-so when Chris had gone to take something from the boot of his car, getting into the driver's seat and draping the soft blanket over your lap. 

"The drive back's pretty long, might wanna make yourself comfortable." 

And you were comfortable, very comfortable. Chris had started to play some music from his playlist, something about his behaviour almost making you forget that he was the same boss that had worked you to the bone for over a year. 

"I'm sorry," you suddenly spoke, once you were in the city, "about what my friends said," you weren't sure where all your courage was coming from, maybe it was the many glasses of wine, but whatever it was, it was putting Chris in an awfully reflective mood. 

"And what I said," you added as an afterthought. 

Chris took his lower lip between his teeth, shaking his head, “nah, don’t worry about it.”

Obviously, that seemed too good to be true, and you’d looked over at his expression in your attempt to figure out if he was being sincere. He was definitely gonna fire you. 

“I’m not gonna fire you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m just kind of…like, you know, wondering,” he began, “the uh… engagement party and the birthday party that you um… you know, that you missed. Were they both because of me?” 

You pursed your lips, nodding, “but it wasn’t your fault, you know. The first one was when you’d passed out… you know, at the office, remember?” 

He nodded, prompting you to continue, “the next one was a keynote session that I had to follow you to.” 

Chris gulped, his throat feeling dry all of a sudden. This whole time he wouldn’t have guessed you’d been giving up these things for him from how willing you’d seemed to work. Was this considered neglecting the needs of my employee? Probably. But whatever it was, Chris knew that he was being harsh on you more for his own sake than yours, but he was only starting to realise now that that might not have been such a good tactic.

Chris was already pulling into the hotel, stopping at the valet services as you’d slung your bag over your shoulder, Chris coming out to open your door for you, making you grimace, feeling as though you should've been the one to open it for him. 

Walking into the hotel lobby, you'd glanced at your phone, seeing as Eujin had texted you tomorrow's plans, "did you get the schedule for tomorrow? I can forward it to you-" 

Chris let a giggle escape him, nodding, "you know they would've sent it to me too, right?" 

Your lips parted in realisation, nodding as you went over to press the lift button before he could even reach over to do so, "right, forgot." 

You were sure it was something about your intoxicated state that was making you instinctively go into work mode, whatever relaxation you thought you would be getting on this weekend now seeming all too far from reach. 

"Uh... I can check what time the hotel serves breakfast and arrange for something to be sent to your room if you want-" 

"Y/N," his tone was enough to make you straighten up, goosebumps rising on your skin for some reason. 

Chris was looking at you in amusement, one hand shoved into his pocket, "you're not working, remember? This is your rest weekend." 

Your eyebrows knit in a frown, chewing on your lip as you averted your gaze, "I know but it's just... like I didn't expect to see you here and now that you are I can't help but feel like I'm at work or something," you'd turned to wonder what was taking the elevator so long, watching as the numbers had gone lower and lower, completely skipping your floor and heading to the carpark. 

"You know what? How about this," he began, pausing momentarily when you heard the elevator ding, stepping inside the empty elevator and pushing your floor button, your heart almost stopping when he hadn't made to press any button. 

"You're on the 14th floor too?" He nodded. 

"Anyway, as I was saying. To make things easier for you, let's just pretend we don't know each other, that i'm not your boss, you're not my secretary. We're just... two people that met at a wedding? You don't have to do anything for me as long as we're here, hmm?" he offered, seeming to sense your hesitance 

"Look, I'll go first," he stretched his hand out as if to ask for a handshake, "hello, nice to meet you, i'm Chan." 

"Chan?" 

He nodded, "my friends call me Chan. People only call me Chris at work." 

You'd brought your hand up slowly, grasping his in yours, the cold metal of his rings against your skin more obvious when he'd given your hand a small squeeze. 

"Nice to meet you, Chan. I'm Y/N?" you tried, looking at him for approval and earning a nod from him, trying your best to ignore the way he was smiling. 

"Yes, that's your name," he laughed. 

Letting go of his hand, you were thankful the elevator had reached your floor without any interruptions, realising just how lucky you were to have not bumped into him earlier on as he'd continued walking with you to your room, gesturing to the door opposite your room with wide eyes. 

"My room's here." 

You made to take out your hotel room key, hearing him clear his throat, and you'd turned around rapidly to face him, strangely eager to know what he was about to say. 

"Say, Y/N, I'd love to, you know, get to know you more. What do you think about getting brunch with me tomorrow?” 

You opened and closed your mouth for lack of a response. This was inappropriate, right? But then again, you weren’t working this weekend. And technically, in this situation, Chan wasn’t your boss. So, there was nothing to lose. 

You nodded, “Yeah. That sounds…nice.” 

=== 

“Sounds kind of suspicious if you asked me,” you heard Seungmin’s voice over the speaker, making you sigh. You were already ready, lounging on your bed as if to mentally prepare yourself for a stupid lunch. 

“Right? I don’t know what he’s trying to get out of this.” 

Seungmin knew. But it’s not as if he was going to tell you, no, that was Chan’s job not his. Frankly, he’d had enough of listening to the both of you whine about your apparent personal vendetta against each other. He watched his fair share of movies, Seungmin knew how these things worked. 

“Maybe it’ll give you a chance to actually talk to each other like normal human beings instead of just bickering all the time for no reason.” 

“I have a reason, I’ll have you know.” 

Seungmin scoffed, “really? Enlighten me, then.”

You’d fumbled for a reason, stuttering in your failure to find something that validated your annoyance towards Chan. 

“I don’t know, his dimples are stupid.” 

Seungmin wanted to laugh, “so you’re telling me, you just can’t stand him because of his stupid dimples?” 

Your attention was diverted when you’d felt your phone vibrate, signalling an incoming text from Chan. 

boss  11:20am -meet u outside your hotel room in 10?- 

“Shit, he wants to meet me in 10 minutes.” 

Seungmin shrugged, “10 minutes is more than enough time for you to come up with a less shitty reason why you don’t like him. Or for you to realise that you don’t actually hate him.” 

You scoffed, burying your face into your sheets as you thought of a reason. 

“Okay, I’ve got it. I just don’t like how he treats everyone so nicely and then treats me like I’m some incompetent kid.” 

“You know for a fact he doesn’t think you’re incompetent. He literally trusts you more than he does the other staff.” 

You scoffed, “yeah, whatever. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s so condescending about it, he thinks of me i’m some kid that doesn’t know anything.” 

Seungmin snorted, remembering the incident where Chan had asked him to tell you to button up your blouse after the directors behaviour during a meeting. 

“Oh, he definitely doesn’t see you as a kid,” Seungmin cackled, earning an eye roll from you.

Glancing at the time, you saw how it was almost 11:30, “okay, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” 

Ending the call, you’d slung your small bag around your shoulder, giving one last glance at your appearance in the mirror in the bathroom before leaving your hotel room, startling when you’d spotted Chan there. 

Dressed in a black pullover and jeans, Chan smiled at you, bringing a hand up to touch his ear, “morning,” he greeted. 

“Good morning,” you huffed nervously.

He’d already begun walking, making you follow beside him, “did you get a good sleep?” 

His eyebrows raised at your question, nodding at you. His hair was curlier than usual, not styled up like you usually saw. “you?” 

You nodded, following him in silence as you’d gone down the list, realising he’d pressed the ground floor instead of where they were serving food on the 3rd floor. 

“You pressed the wrong floor,” you began, not expecting to see the pleading smile on his face.

“Actually, I was thinking of bringing you to this place nearby, I’ve been there before and it’s pretty good.” 

Your first thought was to wonder if it was expensive, knowing that this time you didn’t have the company card to fall back on. 

“Is it expensive?” You asked, seeing him shrug. 

“Not really.” 

Only when you’d reached the area did you realise how much of an understatement Chan made. The restaurant was a small cozy-looking place that served food that you’d only heard of up till now, located along a line of boutiques selling unusual trinkets and handmade items. 

Upon reaching, you and Chan had been led up upstairs to an outdoor seating area of the restaurant, the view of the scenery accompanied with the breeze instantly putting you in a relaxed mood. 

“Do you like it?” He asked, almost sounding nervous. 

Nodding reassuringly, you’d wanted to run away when you saw the way he’d walked over to where you were, pulling your chair out for you to sit on, making you flush. Never in your life would you have thought your boss would be pulling out your chair for you.

“You know, you don’t have to do that,” you told him, using the menu to hide your face from view, pulling it down slightly to watch how he’d rest his forearm on the table, scanning through the menu with a smirk on his face, his (stupid) dimples appearing on his cheeks. 

“I wanted to. You’d never let me do it for you on any other occasion.” 

You had to admit that there was some truth to what you were saying, choosing to change the subject by telling him you’d decided on what you wanted to eat, choosing something that was still within your budget for the weekend. 

Beckoning the waiter over, Chan pushed his sleeves up to his elbows as he ordered for the both of you, the waiter asking what drinks you would want, a teasing smile on Chan’s face when you’d insisted on water.

“What?” You scoffed, earning a shake of the head from him. 

“Nothing.” 

You’d leant back in your seat, about to tie your hair up into a ponytail, hearing the buzzing of your phone, reading the caller id to see that it was your mom trying to video call you. 

Sitting up quickly, you were about to excuse yourself when Chan had reached over, swiping to answer the call as he lifted the phone, pointing it towards you, his other hand beckoning for you to continue. 

“Hey, mom,” you spoke through gritted teeth, your rubber band between your teeth as you worked quickly to bunch your hair into a ponytail, Chan wanting to slap himself with how his ears had started to feel hot. 

“Hey, honey. Where are you? I called the office but they said you were on leave?” 

You secured your hair, taking the phone from Chan with a grateful murmur of ‘thanks’, making your mother’s eyes narrow, “who are you with?” 

“I’m attending Eujin’s wedding this weekend. I’m just uh…with a friend.” 

Chan looked away to clear his throat, catching your mom’s attention, “guy? I thought you told me you weren’t dating anyone.” 

This had caught Chan’s attention, having remembered Seungmin telling him that you’d broken up with your boyfriend. 

“No, yeah, mom it’s just a friend. Can I call you later?” 

Your mom’s eyebrows lifted, looking at you with a cheeky smile on her face, “oh, oh. Yes, of course you can. Have fun, baby.” 

You hung up quickly, shoving your phone back into your bag, looking up at Chan in question as to why he looked so surprised. 

“Your mom doesn’t know you have a boyfriend?” He asked, as if wanting that confirmation for himself, not feeling comfortable with pursuing his feelings if you were still in a relationship. 

You shook your head, “no uh…I broke up with my boyfriend a long time ago.” 

Chan’s lips pursed, nodding, “oh… sorry.” 

You shook your head, not being able to help a breathy laugh from leaving you, “don’t be. He was…it was for the best.” 

“D’you mind if I ask why? You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to, I’m just kind of…curious.” 

You shrugged, not feeling as inclined to hide the information, since it was in the past now. 

“Nah he just… our schedules always clashed and I was always too tired by the end of the day to go out to find him and I guess it like, you know, sort of reached a point where I started prioritising my work and it didn’t work out.” 

Chan nodded slowly, the waiter coming over to serve you your food, “go ahead, you can start eating first.” 

You shook your head, insisting on waiting for his food to arrive before starting. “But I’m honestly fine now, it’s been more than a year since we broke up.” 

Chan huffed in amusement, “is that why you said you can’t stand dating workaholics?” 

Your giggles bubbled out of you, “honestly, I only said that to spite you. I’d much rather date someone that understands my schedule and reaches a compromise with me instead of just always expecting me to drop everything at their beck and call.” 

Chan nodded, “I get that. Yeah, work is important and all but… I feel like if you really loved someone you’d find any moment you could to be with them. Well, for me at least.” 

You laughed, “kind of hard, when we spend almost every waking moment with each other.” 

You’d looked up from your food when Chan hadn’t responded, the waiter finally coming over to serve his food, though his expression remained, looking at you as though he’d wanted to say something. 

“yeah,” he huffed eventually, starting to eat his food. 

You’d shocked yourself with how comfortable you were in his presence with the knowledge that you weren’t working. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To have Chris treat you nicely like how he did the other employees. Only now you were realising how easy it was to catch feelings for him just from this one change. 

Maybe you were kind of thankful he made it easier for you to hate him previously. 

It was true that you understood him better than most, and that he understood you as well, knowing what got on your nerves and what didn’t, how you worked and how you responded to things. Albeit there were a few things he still didn’t understand, you couldn’t deny that Chan was well-liked in the office for a reason, and you were beginning to experience that reason for yourself. 

Chris had been mulling over what his mother had told him about you, wondering if you were feeling the same tension that he was even as you talked about pointless things that made you wonder why you hadn’t talked about them sooner. 

Not that it was a bad kind of tension (or maybe it was), but it was akin to the feeling of knowing that you would both have to confront a realisation soon. 

“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asked as you were heading back to the car, earning a shrug from you. 

“My friends wanted to have some kind of girls night thing, you?” 

He sighed, nodding, “same, the guys and I are going out for drinks.” 

You shot him a look, “drinks?” 

He laughed, shaking his head, “I can hold my alcohol, I just choose not to drink.” 

Your eyes widened, “and I’m only finding this out now because? Do you remember when I had to drink your drinks for you during the first networking session because you lied to me and told me you couldn’t drink that!”

Chan flushed, “I wasn’t lying, technically. I really couldn’t drink that, I don’t like white wine.” 

You shot him a harmless glare, this time, letting him open the door for you as you got into the passenger’s seat. 

“Don’t drink too much tonight, yeah?” He gave you an amused huff as he started the engine of the car. 

“You too,” you held your pinky out for him to make a promise. 

Chan nodded, linking his pinky with yours as he leaned closer to you, “deal.” 

=== 

You’d heard the sound of beeping at your door that night, wondering what all the ruckus was all about, getting out of bed, taking your hotel room key and pausing the show you were watching on your phone, making your way over to your door carefully. 

“Why isn’t the card working?” You heard a tell-tale Australian accent muffled through the door, looking through the peephole to see a head of messy brown hair, looking as though Chan was leaning against the door. 

Opening the door slowly, you’d acted quickly to grab Chan by the shoulders to steady him before he could stumble forward, the confused boy holding up his hotel key and looking at you in confusion. 

“This isn’t my room?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, turning him around as you’d ushered him a few steps forward to his hotel room door, “this,” you pointed at the door, “is your room, Chan.” 

He giggled, “you called me ‘Chan’.” 

Taking his hand, you scanned his hotel key, bringing him into his room, finding it awfully neat (unlike yours), smoothly guiding him to his bed and letting him flop onto it. 

Letting out a sigh, you couldn’t help but to feel rather endeared, seeing him open his eyes slowly to look at you, tilting his head. 

“Sorry, I promised I wouldn’t drink so much.” 

You shook your head, reaching over him to grab at his blanket, your movements ceasing abruptly when you’d felt his hand on your back as you hovered over him, his hand moving from your back to your head, patting it gently. 

Pulling the blanket up harshly in your panic to cover him, straightening up as quickly as you could. 

“Shut up, go to sleep. Goodnight,” you said, hurriedly exiting the hotel room and going back to your room, closing the door behind you and trying to calm your rapid heartbeat. 

The next time you’d seen him was at the hotel lobby, where you’d agreed to meet him so you could head to the wedding venue together. Chan had come down wearing a nice suit, something you were more used to seeing him in, his hair styled up in a familiar manner. 

Greeting each other, you’d both decided to pretend the night before hadn’t occurred. With you being one of the bridesmaids and Chan being one of the groomsmen, you were separated almost immediately upon reaching the venue, with him having to help his friend while you helped Eujin. 

“A little birdie told me you came together with Chan,” she sing-songed. 

You scoffed, “aren’t brides usually supposed to be freaking out by now?” 

“Don’t change the topic! So, did you guys hang out yesterday?” 

You shrugged, “yeah, I guess we did.” 

She narrowed her eyes at you, “so? Is there a verdict?” 

You went behind her to take her bouquet, handing it to her as you waved her off in dismissal. 

“Too early to tell,” you lied. 

“Stop avoiding the question! Or else I’ll just have to ask Chan myself,” she huffed sulkily, making your eyes widen. 

“No, don’t do that! Okay, fine. It’s good. He’s nice.” 

Even Eujin’s makeup artist was giving you a knowing look now, making you cower under their gaze. 

“Shut up, focus on your wedding, please.” 

You wished you could’ve done some focusing for yourself, with Chan’s friends nudging him when you’d gone to the back of the church to line up with the groomsmen, all of them seeming to have conspired to let you walk with Chan. 

“Why do you look more nervous than the bride?” He teased, holding his arm out for you to take, making you roll your eyes, bringing your hand up to grasp his arm. 

“You’re delusional.” 

Okay, maybe he wasn’t. You wished you could’ve taken your advice, having been distracted throughout almost the entire ceremony, your gaze constantly flickering over to Chan, and you were sure he’d noticed too, with the way he would smirk and avert his gaze to the floor in his attempt to stop himself from laughing. 

Shouldn’t he be the one that was nervous? He was the one that had shown up drunk at your hotel room. 

After the ceremony had ended and you were all done taking photos with the bride and groom, Chan had offered you a ride to the reception venue, and you’d accepted, not knowing that you would’ve had to squeeze in a car full of his friends too. 

Sitting at the passenger’s seat (thankfully), you’d prayed for the ride to be shorter as his friends had started to question you and Chan. 

“Is there something going on with you two?” 

“None of your business,” Chan sing-songed, only serving to spur his friends on even more, your eyes widening when you’d heard one of his friends murmur.

“Wait, but didn’t he say he had a thing for his secretary?” 

Your hand went up to cover your mouth as discreetly as you could, clutching the bag of your wedding gift for Eujin and her husband and looking out of the window in your attempt to keep your composure. 

Chan had seemed to share your sentiments, his eyes widening as he panicked behind the steering wheel, his mind racing with things he could possibly do to prevent you from hearing what his friends were so freely spouting.

“Oh, did he? Then there can’t be anything going on with her, right?” 

Chan had reached over to turn the volume of the music up, much to your fortune, not knowing if you would’ve been able to handle hearing them talk more about Chan’s love life. 

Eujin wasn’t kidding when she said that she’d make you and Chan sit next to each other, and you’d ended up at a table with Chan nearer to the front, with a few of your friends and their partners. Watching Eujin and her husband enter the hall, you’d been filled with excitement at how happy she had looked, clapping and cheering for them along with the rest of the guests. 

Once they were seated, Eujin and her husband had begun to make their own speeches, thanking the respective groups of people for coming, and you didn’t miss her pointed mention of how she hoped the guests would use this time to get to know each other as well. 

The way Eujin had done things was that dinner was served so that the guests could listen to the speeches and enjoy their meals at the same time, which you didn’t mind since you were absolutely starving. 

You didn’t miss the way Chan had been subtly looking out for you during the dinner, like how he would casually ask if you needed anything whenever he would get up to go to the bar, or how he’d brushed your hair behind your ear so it wouldn’t get into your food (not without a tut of his tongue), earning many surprised looks from your friends which he was oblivious to. 

You figured he was really making use of the ‘let’s pretend we don’t know each other’ thing as an excuse to be nice to you, not that you were complaining.  

You glanced at your phone, skimming over the texts that one of the intern secretaries had sent you to ask you for help, making your friend curious. 

“Is that your boss?” 

You shook your head, “nah it’s just one of the interns asking me for help with something,” you shrugged, setting your utensils down as you swiped into your email app, ready to clarify the problem for her, making Chan furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. 

Reaching over, he’d taken your phone from you, locking it and dropping it back into your bag, ignoring your look of confusion. 

“Hey, I was just gonna email her!” 

“They’re not supposed to be asking you to do things for them while you’re on leave. No working, this is your rest weekend.” 

You’d shut your mouth at that, deciding that it wouldn’t do you any well to go against him, wanting to pull your phone out to just read the emails but dropping your phone back when you saw the look he gave you daring you to continue. 

Your friend had seemed to be fairly amused by your exchange, shooting a look at Chan, “wow, now I’m really glad you’re here. You’re the only one so far that’s managed to stop her from checking on her work when she’s supposed to be resting.” 

You scoffed. Yeah, because the source of your work was sitting right next to you in a stupid suit. 

“Good to know,” he gave you a knowing smile, making you direct your attention back the waiters, seeing that they were serving desserts now. 

“Your friends make me sound like i’m a hard-ass,” he leaned closer to you to murmur, making you smile, nodding. 

“Well, they’re not entirely wrong,” you drawled, making Chan scoff, though not being able to help the laugh from leaving him. 

He nodded slowly, his expression looking fairly amused, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

You wondered just for a moment if he was only being nice to you for the sake of his own conscience (though Seungmin would beg to differ). And by the late afternoon, you were already starting to feel drowsy from the afternoon weather, the skies darkening as though it were about to rain. Chan had figured it would be good to start heading back. 

After you’d bid goodbye to Eujin, who seemed more than eager for you to leave together with Chan, Chan had offered to drive a few of his friends back to the hotel together with you, and thankfully this time they hadn’t mentioned anything about his love life. 

“Tired?” Chan huffed with a smile, glancing at you momentarily before fixing his gaze back on the road. 

“Yeah,” you murmured, yawning. 

“You should get some sleep when you get back to the hotel.” 

You nodded, “you too.” 

Chan nodded patronisingly, earning a huff from you, too tired to bicker with him. something in him stirring at how he could’ve been acting like this with you a lot earlier if he wasn’t always masking his concern with rude phrasing. 

His mom sure was gonna be excited the next time he updates her. 

=== 

You hadn’t gotten as much of a rejuvenating sleep as you would’ve liked, reality having kicked in that you were back to work tomorrow, the feeling lingering unsettlingly in your chest as you tried to make the most of the rest of your night. Somehow, you’d found your way to the lounge in the hotel, though that didn’t help much in lessening your dread for tomorrow seeing as the only other people here were people working on their laptops.

You figured it was not so much of dreading work than dreading Chan’s change in personality once he went back to being your boss. 

Letting your head rest on the stiff cushion of the chair you were sitting on, you’d fiddled with your phone, texting Seungmin about what had happened today. 

You’d almost startled in your seat when you saw someone take a seat next to you, turning to see Chan, his tie long gone as his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his hair already falling out of place as he simply looked at you. 

Raising your eyebrows in a silent question as to ask why he was here, he scoffed, looking away from you but failing to hide the reddening of his ears, “shut up, I just didn’t feel like sitting with a stranger.” 

You huffed in amusement, “did you take a nap?” 

Chan shook his head, “nah, just finished a conference call.” 

Your eyes widened, “wait, why didn’t you tell me? I was doing nothing this whole time—“ 

Chan shook his head in dismissal, “you were tired. I told you, this is your rest time, I’m not allowed to touch it.” 

You frowned, your mind racing with thoughts on how tomorrow could possibly go, looking at the carpet with a hint of a pout on your face, “yeah, and then tomorrow, everything goes back to normal.” 

Chan inhaled deeply, leaning back in his seat as he turned his head to look at you, his hands clasped and resting on his lap. 

“It doesn’t have to, you know… like…” he shrugged, “if you don’t want it to.” 

Your lips parted, unsure how to respond to the implications of his words, unsure how to even process his words. 

“It’d be… unprofessional for me to continue to act like… this towards my boss.” 

Chan raised an eyebrow at you, shrugging, looking at you with an unreadable expression. 

“I think I’m way past being professional already when it comes to you.” 

You’d sworn the air had felt thicker, something about the way the night mood had felt, or how the music in the lounge had succeeded in relaxing you, but something inside of you was telling you to just do it, to lean forward and kiss him. And probably promptly resign the next day out of embarrassment. 

You stood up quickly, “oh, I think my cab’s here, I have to go,” you lied blatantly, Chan not making any move to stop you, simply lifting a hand to wave you off with a tired smile on his face. 

“Go, go. See you at work tomorrow.” 

===

“Can’t we ask Y/N to ask him?” The secretaries and interns were currently huddled in the pantry, having gathered to discuss how great it would be to have a field day soon.

“But Y/N’s equally as scary as him!” One of the interns spoke up, making the secretaries hum thoughtfully. 

You’d stepped into the pantry, walking through the secretaries to retrieve a juice packet for Chan. 

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, one of the secretaries turning to you with a resolute look on her face. 

“Y/N, do you think you could um… like, you know, ask President Bang if we could arrange for a team outing soon? Like a field day or something, just as a break for the staff. We haven’t had one in so long!” 

You tilted your head at them in amusement, “why don’t you guys just ask him? He’s in his office now, I can go tell him you guys wan—“ 

“No, no! It’s different, you’re the only one that can convince him. We tried last month but he’d just told us he’d think about it.” 

You shrugged, nodding, “alright, sure. I’ll go and ask him.” 

Making your way back to his office, you’d tried to ignore your nerves as you knocked on the door, opening it to reveal Chan who was on the phone, holding up a finger to you to signal you to wait. 

Walking over to him, you’d placed the juice packet on his desk in front of him, earning a smile and a grateful nod from him, before he’d switched back to a serious expression. 

“No, yes, of course. We would want nothing more than to ensure a… mutually beneficial agreement between our companies.” 

You didn’t have to ask to know who he was talking to. Chan had been trying to negotiate a deal with one of the shareholders, since they had been trying to propose to get Chan to merge with another prominent electronics company in the industry. 

You knew Chan was more than annoyed, but he had no choice but to be civil with the president of the company since they did have many shares in the company from the time his uncle was in charge. 

“Yes, we can discuss this more in person over lunch, how does that sound? Yep. Alright, bye.” Chan sighed, setting the phone down and leaning his palms on the table, supporting himself with a pained look on his face, looking up at you with a pout. 

“I really don’t like him.” 

Chan sighed, “same here.” 

“Anyway, I’m glad you came here, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“What?” You asked, watching as he’d fiddled with the papers on his desk. 

“Uh… I won’t ask you to handle things outside of work for me anymore.” 

Your eyes widened, “is this because of what my friends said? Because I’m honestly fine it doesn’t matter,” you shook your head, seeing him scrunch his nose. 

“It may not matter to you but I’m personally not fine with it,” he pressed his lips together. “Really, I mean it. Whatever I ask you to help me with from here on is only gonna be work-related.” 

You nodded. Was he trying to distance himself from me? Was it because of the trip? 

Your lips pulled into a frown, nodding more to yourself than to him, “okay…uh anyway I wanted to ask you um… the secretaries were wondering if we could have like a field day or something soon? Like just as a small break for the staff?” 

Chan shot you a look, knowing they’d asked you to ask him. 

“Do you want that?” He asked, earning a nod from you. 

“Yeah, I guess. It’d be fun to just have a day for staff bonding and all…” 

Chan shrugged, “alright, tell them to go ahead and arrange it.” 

Your eyes widened, finding the exchange to have went a lot more smoother than expected. 

“Will you be needing me for anything else?” 

He looked at you as if in thought, taking his lower lip between his teeth and letting it go, shaking his head, “other than to help me book an appointment with President Kim, nothing else.” 

You nodded slowly, exiting the room. 

By only asking you for work-related things, you’d expected your work-load to decrease, but it seemed as though you were currently having the most uneventful day you’d ever had. Other than drafting proposals for the President of the electronics company, there wasn’t much on your plate. 

You’d figured you would’ve been a lot busier tending to Chan’s requests but the boy had barely come out of his office, the only times he did being to head to the washroom, barely casting a glance in your direction when he walked past you. 

As if that wasn’t strange enough, he’d even let you have a longer lunch break, much to Seungmin’s amusement. 

“Doesn’t being in the legal team sound a lot more enticing now? At least you’d be doing something there.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I still have quite a bit of research to do, so no thank you.” 

“Admit it, you’re only staying because you can’t bear to leave Chan.” 

You’d almost choked on your drink, patting your chest to regain your composure, “where the hell did you get that idea from?” 

Seungmin scoffed, “you act like you didn’t call me a thousand times during the trip to tell me about things he did.” 

You’d fallen silent at that, averting your gaze. 

“Whatever,” you scoffed. 

“Isn’t it misconduct, though? If I were to date him.” 

Seungmin shook his head with an amused snort leaving him, “what are we in, the stone ages? Go wild, literally nobody cares. They’ll probably be happy if you manage to get him to be less of a hard-ass,” Seungmin told you, glancing into his cup to see how much drink he had left, “god knows when was the last time he got laid.” 

You flushed, shoving Seungmin, “how can you say that?” 

“What? It’s true!” 

You gave him a dismayed glare, standing up with a sigh as you straightened out your skirt, glancing at the time on your phone. 

“I should probably be heading back now, I’ve got work to do,” you gave Seungmin a pointed look, pulling him up from the bench. 

“I don’t wanna go back to work,” Seungmin let out a loud strangled sound of protest, his shoes stomping on the wooden panelled floor of the rooftop. 

You giggled, a teasing smile on your face, “weren’t you the one saying the legal team was what again? Enticing?” 

Seungmin pouted, pressing the elevator button, abruptly flailing his limbs in a mini outburst before straightening up and composing himself. 

“Fine, I’m fine. Enjoy your stupid office romance with Chan.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

Chan had a consultation with the legal team later that afternoon regarding the issue with the shareholder, and you’d been all-too-distracted during the meeting as you thought about what your possible ‘action-plan’ regarding your situation with Chan was. 

Taking down notes during the meeting, you’d let your train of thought wander, almost doodling onto your notebook, with one hand supporting your head on the table before you heard the legal advisor from the shareholder’s side speak up, a guttural groan leaving him. 

Looking up with an annoyed furrow of your eyebrows, you heard him lean back in his chair, “what does a man need to do to get a drink around here?” 

“You,” the man pointed a finger at you, “go and make yourself useful, sweetheart. Get me a cup of coffee.” 

Chan’s eyebrows knit into a frown, looking at the legal consultant with clear disdain on his face, looking at you to gauge your reaction. Already expecting you to do what you always did, get up with a smile and come back with the man’s coffee, Chan figured he was too annoyed by it to let you do just that. 

About to speak up to the man, you'd shocked Chan when you narrowed your eyes at him, giving him a sweet smile, "sorry, that's not my job here. Since you're not contributing much to the discussion, why don't you make your legs useful and head right over there and get yourself some water." 

You huffed, staring him down as he glared at you, directing his gaze to Chan. "Are you just gonna let her talk to me like that? I'd fire such a rude brat if I were you. Who's your supervisor, I'm gonna make sure he hears of this." 

Chan did his best to conceal his smile, simply turning his chair ever so slightly to give you a small smile, "that would be me, and I heard it loud and clear. Now, shall we continue with the meeting?" 

=== 

You’d been spending hours at your desk, distractedly doing research as you’d kept trying to peep into Chan’s office to figure out what he was doing, to no avail. (Chan had put the blinds down halfway through the day since he couldn’t stop staring outside at your desk either). 

You were technically done with your work, and Chan did mention that you were free to go home once you were done. On any other occasion this would have been considered a miracle, and you wouldn’t have hesitated to go home. But now, there was a nagging feeling in your heart that you couldn’t just leave him here, especially with how stressed out he was because of the business with the shareholder. You didn’t trust him not to spend the whole night here. 

Glancing at the time, you saw that it was already past 10, deciding that you would give him some time to make an appearance before you left, just to make sure he was alive and breathing inside his office. 

Distracting yourself with replying emails, even playing more than a few rounds of a word-search game on your phone, you figured he would’ve come out by now, but there was still not a sound coming from inside the room. 

Once the clock had almost struck 11, you figured you’d might as well go in and check on him for yourself. Going over to the pantry to make a hot drink, you’d walked back to his office, your grip tight on the saucer in your anxiousness. 

Inhaling deeply and breathing out with a resolute nod, you knocked on the door of his office, waiting a while only to be met with silence. 

Pushing open the door slightly, you’d tried again. 

“Mr Bang, is it okay if I come in?”

Upon receiving no response yet again, you’d pushed open the door fully, your eyes widening in realisation when you saw him seated at his desk, fast asleep on the chair. 

Walking over to the leather sofa as quietly as you could, you’d picked up the blanket from the sofa, making your way over to where he was, setting the hot drink onto his desk and making to drape the blanket over him. 

Only when you were adjusting the blanket did he stir awake, making your fight-or-flight instincts kick in, strangely embarrassed if he were to catch you doing such a gesture for him. 

Blinking slowly, his eyebrows furrowed before his gaze had landed on you. 

“I thought you’d gone home already?” He pouted, making you fumble to find an excuse why you’d stayed behind. 

“Sorry, Mr Bang, I was—”

He gave you a lazy smile, shaking his head, “none of that ‘Mr Bang’, nonsense. How come you haven’t left yet?” 

You pressed your lips together firmly, pulling your hands away from the blanket as you tried to straighten up, sighing softly. 

“I couldn’t leave… for some reason. I kind of wanted to make sure you were okay, since I barely saw you the whole day.” 

Chan’s satisfied smile had grew, nodding at you as if prompting you to continue. 

“but I’ll go soon. I guess,” you blurted, “unless like you know, you need me for something, then I’m fine with staying.” You stopped yourself, nodding before you could embarrass yourself any further. 

You couldn’t help but let your breath hitch when he’d reached out to grab your hand. 

“Thank you, for checking up on me,” he murmured, his close proximity making your gaze dart to his lips, averting your gaze quickly. 

“Did you not come out of your office on purpose?” You narrowed your eyes at him, hating the way your heart was doing flips at the way he grinned, his dimples showing cutely. 

You were about to pull back out of your own internal panic, but Chan’s grip on your hand was firm. 

“I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t ask you for anything that wasn’t work related from now on. But It’s killing me, because you were sitting outside the whole day and I couldn’t do anything about it…” he paused, tilting his head as he searched your expression. 

“You can refuse, but I just need you to do one little thing for me,” he murmured,  pulling you forward so you’d ended up seated on his lap, your arms going out to grasp his shoulders to steady yourself. 

“What do you need me to do?” You asked, your voice a mere murmur with how the tension was absolutely suffocating you, wanting nothing more than to just close the gap between the both of you. 

Chan’s hand went up to your chin, running his thumb over your lower lip as they unconsciously parted, “close your eyes.” 

Chan couldn’t help but smirk at the way you’d done so obediently, his hand going to where your neck met your jaw, leaning closer to press his lips against yours. 

Almost as if it was second nature, he’d let his other hand grasp your hip, his thumb rubbing the area soothingly. Tilting his head to kiss you deeper, you’d practically sighed into the kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck loosely as you felt him smile into the kiss. 

“I’m glad it’s you,” he murmured against your lips, his tongue swiping against your lower lip making you let out a surprised hum, not being able to help your smile as well. 

“We should stop,” you pulled away, breathless. 

“Why?” 

You shook your head, “I could kiss you for hours. It’s already so close to midnight.” 

Chan glanced at the clock apathetically, looking at you and shrugging, his hand running up and down your side. 

“So be it, then,” he said, pulling you back to meet his lips. 

===

“Is it just me, or has President Bang been a lot less moody these days,” Seungmin heard one of his colleagues in the legal team asking her desk-mate, making her colleague nod gravely. 

The mention of President Bang had him glancing towards his office, spotting your desk empty and figuring you were inside his office. 

“Definitely. At first I thought it was just me, but he’s been a lot less harsh to Y/N as well,” she agreed. 

“Don’t you think so, Seungmin?” 

And almost as if on cue, you’d exited his office, pulling your hair out of your ponytail to readjust it, looking around as if scanning the area to see if anyone had seen you. 

Locking eyes with Seungmin, you shot him a wink, straightening out your blouse as you’d gone back to sit down at your desk. 

Seungmin scoffed, not being able to help the smile on his face as he rolled his eyes, “yeah, I think I know why.” 

[walviemort]

Fairy Godfather, part 3

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He’s been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: Another update! Thank you to @sancocnutclub​ for her continued encouragement...which will be very apparent in part 4 ;)

rated T / 2.4k words / part 1 / part 2 / AO3

Though he had just passed the first trimester mark in this oversized pregnancy, Killian was pleased to find he was not lacking in the energy department. Granted, his first pregnancy had been similar—he’d had the most energy during the second trimester, despite the increasing size of his belly.

But his belly was a fraction of the size back then. Now, at 13 weeks, it was much closer to the size he’d been at 35 weeks with Hope. But he had yet to slow down—as evidenced by his and Emma’s morning activities; he was even on top.

There was no denying his present form was bulky, but he’d been too fatigued at this size with Hope to do much but sleep and eat. That was not a problem now, and both he and Emma were reaping the benefits. Reaching orgasm while she was caressing his bump? It was impossible to describe how amazing that felt.

However, he’d hardly finished when Hope began to cry out from her nursery. As much as he was still feeling good, moving did take a bit more effort than it had. This bump also weighed as much as his last one, and was only going to get heavier; at least it hadn’t dropped yet. But it meant that Emma was still quicker to her feet than he was, and sprang up to retrieve their 13 month old before she tried to climb out of her crib on her own.

Hope finally figured out walking a month or so ago—just in time for her first birthday—and he was well aware of the comical sight he’d made at her party, chasing after her with his protruding stomach. But at least he still could, even if he got winded more quickly than he’d like. 

Tink had been snickering at him during one such moment. “Hey,” he chastised and patted the bump. “Your kid is in here, so I’d watch the mocking when it comes to running after mine.”

“That’s fair,” she’d conceded. “Just let me know when you need help, though—I’ll gladly go after the little hellion.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

They hadn’t needed her help yet, but it was only a matter of time—especially by the sound of tiny but insistent footsteps that were getting faster every day as they ran down the hallway. 

“Dada!” her little voice called out as she charged into the room and threw herself against his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“How’s my little cygnet today?” he enthusiastically replied as he bent down to pick her up. He had to open his legs to make room for the bump, but it was still an achievable feat, and Hope giggled as she flew into the air and the curled in as he carefully tucked her into his side. 

After a brief cuddle, she squirmed for him to set her down on the mattress, and gave his bump a gentle pat. “Hi babies,” she said (or tried to; some of those sounds were still being worked on). She’d noticed the bump a few weeks ago, once it had really started popping out. They couldn’t tell if she actually understood what was going on—and were glad she was young enough to not have to explain it—but she was at least careful and affectionate. 

He just hoped that continued as she grew steadier on her feet—and he grew larger and less so. 

Hope tucked herself back into Killian’s side and Emma sat down on the other. “This is a pretty perfect morning,” she sighed as she laid her head in his bare shoulder. “Do I really have to go into work?”

“I’m of the same opinion—but wasn’t Tiger Lily coming for training today?” She was the fairy who’d offered to take over his deputy duties once he no longer could—and he had a hunch she'd be an acceptable long-term hire. 

“Yeah,” she complained. “Just wish it could wait another day.”

“Or,” he suggested, “we get through today and then we can spend tomorrow in a similar manner.”

“I like the way you think,” she replied, then pulled him in for a kiss. 

He set Hope down on the bed, where she proceeded to tackle the pillows, and went about the process of getting dressed. His sleep pants still fit, although they were reaching the point where they were almost too snug on his hips, which had definitely widened more than last time. 

Thankfully, his maternity jeans were as stretchy as ever, and he hadn’t yet exceeded their capacity; the elastic panel hugged his belly comfortably as he slipped them on. 

Emma had bought him a collection of soft, short-sleeved t-shirts a size larger than he typically wore, and one of those slipped on easily, but the bump still stood prominently under navy cotton. Hopefully, they made these in several larger sizes. 

They stopped at Granny’s before heading to their respective workplaces for the day, and Killian consumed a larger stack of pancakes than he’d like to admit; good thing Belle took his measurements yesterday. At least there was also a generous side of fresh fruit. 

When he and Hope arrived at the library, he was only semi-surprised to see Blue there; she seemed to be showing up once a month or so to check in, but today had another goal. 

“Would you be okay with getting an ultrasound?” she asked. 

That was shocking. “Sure,” he said, “but will it be okay for them?” he countered, rubbing his belly. Inside, they seemed to be fluttering nervously. 

“If it’s fine for a human baby, it should be for them. It’s just—I see all these thorough notes and comparisons, and I’m curious what that would reveal.”

“Whale says he has an opening,” Belle added, phone in hand. “Shall we?”

They did, and headed out en masse to make the short walk to the hospital. At least, it should have been short, but Hope insisted on walking on her own and Killian’s pace wasn’t as fast as it normally was. 

Whale met them in the waiting room when they arrived, though, an eager look on his face. “Wondered if I'd see you this time around,” he greeted. “I’ve gotta say—I’m pretty curious about this.”

“Aren’t we all,” Killian answered dryly, bracing his hook against his lower back. 

“Come on; let’s take a peek in there,” Whale beckoned, and led them to an exam room. 

Killian passed Hope off to Blue and began the process of climbing up on the exam table; again—he was doing fine on the energy front, but a large bump was a large bump, and it not only was an obstacle to his mobility, but he was carrying around some weight he hadn’t been 13 weeks ago (and in more places than just the bump).

But he managed to get up there and lifted up his shirt without prompting; he knew the drill. During his seemingly arduous climb, Whale had been looking over Belle’s notes from both pregnancies. “Damn,” he commented. “I think your notes are more detailed than my charts.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Killian called out; Whale just chuckled and moved to ready the ultrasound machine while Belle rolled her eyes and readied her pen. 

Killian had forgotten how cold the gel was, but he got over it quickly as Whale began to move the probe over his (thankfully stretch mark-free) stomach. 

“Well I’ve never seen that before,” Whale said after a bit, and everyone focused on the screen. 

“I thought those were only in black and white?” Belle asked. 

“They are,” Whale confirmed. 

And yet, as the tiny images of multiple babies appeared on the screen, each one was showing up in a different color—the color of the orbs they started as. Tink’s green stood out front and center, but as Whale moved the probe over the dome that was Killian’s abdomen, all the other colors showed up, except—

“Where’s mine?” Blue asked, understandably worried. 

“Hmm,” Whale hummed, investigating. “One, two,” he started counting, finding 8 that were easily visible. “But it looks like…” He pressed harder on Killian’s belly, to the point of discomfort, but he didn’t complain—not when Blue looked so worried. 

“Yeah, there’s definitely one hiding in there,” Whale said. “I just can’t zero in. There’s some color bleeding through, though…”

And in between a pink-hued and navy-hued fetus, a bit of bright blue was visible. Blue sighed in relief. “Yeah, she’s just being stubborn,” Whale assured her. “You can probably blame it on Hook.”

“Hey!” he protested, but Belle’s snicker suggested she agreed.

“Anyways—from a development standpoint, yeah, I’d put you right at 13 weeks, although probably half the size. Were it a normal pregnancy, I’d guess you’d only go to 30 weeks or so, for safety—but I’m guessing that won’t be the case here?”

“No,” Blue said. “He’ll go all the way to full term.”

Whale whistled. “Thank goodness they’re small then.”

Several copies of the sonogram were printed off—as mysteriously colorful as they were on screen—with Killian taking one, another going in Belle’s notebook, and the rest going with Blue. There was some discussion of doing another ultrasound at the second trimester, but it was ultimately deemed unnecessary.

Whale bid them adieu but they lingered in the room, if only because it took Killian a bit to clean off the gel (he hated the way it got caught in the bit of hair on his stomach). Belle was wrangling the kids, but Blue was staring at the pictures, almost in awe. 

“You were worried, weren’t you?” Killian asked softly. “That she wasn’t there.”

“Yes,” Blue admitted. “It’s rare, but sometimes, they don’t all take. And I’ve just—I’ve waited so long for this.”

“I understand.” It had taken him and Emma quite some time to conceive Hope, and obviously they required assistance. 

“I guess I’ll just have to be patient,” she sighed. 

“Aye,” he agreed. “But—” He placed his hand on the top of his bump and furrowed his brow in concentration. “I’m almost positive she’s kicking my bladder at the moment.”

It drew the polite chuckle he was going for, but also meant he needed to excuse himself. Blue also took that moment to take her leave, but not without an emphatic thank-you.

He had to admit, as he shuffled off to the bathroom—he’d definitely been resentful of this arrangement to an extent. But seeing Blue’s genuine emotions there at the prospect of parenthood made that feeling dissipate. 

He was sure he’d have a mountain of complaints by the end of this, but being able to grant so many others the joys he’d found as a parent—that would be worth it. 

------------------------------------------------------

At 16 weeks, he hit the same measurements he had when he was at full term with Hope (literally those of the day before he’d gone into labor). But the bump still sat high on his frame. “I wonder if whatever magic is preventing stretch marks is also holding it aloft,” he quipped as he traced the curve of his belly. 

“It’s entirely possible,” Belle concurred. “Look at the difference.” In addition to measured data, she also had photographic documentation of his various milestones in both pregnancies; comparing the picture she’d just taken on her phone to the one from right before Hope entered the world, it was plain to see the similarities in how much they extended in front of him, but the difference in where it sat on his body. 

“We’ll see how long it lasts, though.”

In answer to his theory, he got another few weeks before things began to sit lower, though his stomach continued it’s outward expansion—a couple centimeters every week. But by his 17th week, he finally started feeling the pull of gravity and had to dig out the belly band he’d relied on the last month or so with Hope. 

But he soon noticed another issue. While he remembered what it was like to not be able to see his feet, and had gotten used to the obstacle about his midsection, he wasn’t prepared for it to stick out even more. 

Case in point: one morning during his 18th week, when he was attempting to surprise Emma with breakfast (usually she rose first, but a flurry of activity in his belly had woken him early). However, he was a bit farther from the stove than he was used to, as well as the cabinets, and he kept knocking into the chairs around the table; Hope was watching him from her own high chair in amusement, far more interested in his slapstick endeavor than her cereal. 

“What’s going on?” Emma’s sleepy voice asked after he cursed at nearly burning his belly on the oven. 

“Nothing,” he huffed, rubbing the spot on his bump that was just a bit too warm. “Just a failed attempt at treating my amazing wife.”

She glanced around, then smiled. “You were trying to make me breakfast but then your belly got in the way?”

“Aye,” he sighed. 

She walked over to him and pulled him into a hug—from the side, since she already couldn’t get close enough from the front—and turned his face towards her to kiss him. “You’re too sweet,” she said, tucking herself into his side. “And you treated me plenty last night,” she added in a low voice; he swallowed at the memory of their shared moment—probably one of the last times he’d be able to make love on top for a while, unless they got creative with the logistics, but dammit, he did it, and it was amazing. 

“I can finish this up; take a seat, okay?”

“I should be able to do this, though,” he complained. 

“And you will—in 5 months or so. But I told you I’d support you with this, so let me.”

He sighed again, but complied, and ignored the creak of his chair as he sat down (angled away from the table—he was also up a size in shirts, but his jeans were holding on…for now). “How did the gods see fit to bless this poor bastard with such an amazing woman?” he asked, watching the blush rise on her cheeks. 

“The same way they did for this lost girl,” she countered, then put a (heaping) plate in front of him. 

“I love you so much, Swan—thank you.”

She placed another kiss on his lips. “I love you too—always.”

Even if this wasn’t an ideal situation, he knew that he was blessed to have Emma at his side; he wouldn’t be able to get through this without her. 

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