#I’m regretting this new hire already and it’s only been like a couple weeks

[sternbagel]

Hi. If your boss (me) has said that something’s a part of your job and is your responsibility, and the boss leaves for the day, then it is still your responsibility and you must still do what your supervisor asks you to do.

[messedupfan]

Benefits of Car Troubles (Leigh Shaw x Reader) (Oneshot)

Summary: When Leigh's car won't start, she calls Y/n to help her out.

Gender not specified for reader

No permission for translating or posting this content other places

Warnings: Smut (18+)

A/N: I thought I'd try something. Would love to hear your thoughts. This has nothing to do with Halloween but HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! As always, I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leigh’s car makes an awful noise as she tries to start it. “No, no, no!” She slams her hand against the steering wheel. She couldn’t afford for another thing to be broken right now. The air conditioning unit in the house was already out, the oven was giving them problems, and there appeared to be a bug problem that hiring an exterminator was the only solution for. Her car did not need to be added to that list. “Come on, pick up, pick up,” she mutters to herself as she waits for you to answer the phone. She also couldn’t afford to order a ride from one of the services. It was times like these she regretted taking time from working to focus on writing. 

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask, trying to sound as though you weren’t jumping up and down from finally getting a call from her. It had been a while since she last called you and the last time the two of you were around each other didn’t end too well. But nonetheless, it was good to hear from her again.  

“I hate to ask, but could you do me a really big favor?” 

You look around the shop you work at and calculate in your mind if you had time to slip away but things were a little bit busy and you weren’t so sure that you could. “Listen, Leigh, as much fun as that would be. Things are kind of hectic right now. But I could drop by in a couple of hours and–”

“That’s not what I’m calling you for,” she interrupts. “I need a ride to my new job and my car isn’t starting. I would call someone else but I need your expertise. You’re a mechanic right?” 

“Ouch! We were sleeping together for months and you have to ask that?” You tease. 

“Well, we weren’t doing a lot of talking,” she points out. “At least, you weren’t.” 

“Alright, fair enough. Yeah, I’ll be right there to check it out. I’ll even give you a discount,” you say flirtatiously. 

Leigh sighs, “Do you still think you’re in love with me?” You get quiet and realize she’s not in a playful mood at all. “We can’t go back to that. I have way too much going on right now. Please understand.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” you say and hang up the phone. You go to one of your co-workers to ask if they’ll be okay by themselves for the time being. When you’re good to leave, you drive the tow truck to Leigh’s house just in case.  Arriving at her house, your heart starts to jump a little. For the past few months, the two of you were having a sort of affair. You met in a writing class at the community college. There weren’t many students in the class and so it was easier to get to know people. 

One night, after the class had all passed an assignment for the first time that entire semester, everyone decided to go out and celebrate at a bar nearby. A few drinks in and Leigh was spilling her guts to you about her bad marriage and how she hadn’t had sex in over a year. A few more drinks later, the two of you were making out in the bathroom. Things stopped before they went too far. But a couple weeks later, she proposed the idea of the two of you helping each other out. 

In your case, you didn’t have time for a relationship and you entertained the idea of finding people to sleep around with but you didn’t like the idea of going out every night to find someone and those dating apps were just nightmares. As for Leigh, she wasn’t proud of it, but she has needs and she was tired of arguing with her husband. She would leave him, if she were financially independent to do so. But as of right now, she had to stay and pick up the pieces that had become of her life. So, the two of you would meet up at random times throughout the week and have sex. A couple of times, she wanted it to be at her house. She got a bit of a thrill knowing that she did something scandalous and had gotten away with it. 

Things were working out very well for the two of you, until you had to go and ruin it by falling in love with her. The little moments after, when she wanted to be held and listened too, made it pretty difficult not to. She would make you a meal sometimes and you would do the same for her other times. You would send her little snippets of a story you were working on, unsure if you liked it, and she would either encourage you to keep it or help you adjust it. You would do the same for her, of course. And when she got good feedback from the professor, she couldn’t wait to share it with you. It got hard to keep those boundaries solid when she kept blurring the lines. 

Eventually, you began to open up to her the way she had been doing with you and it startled her. She had been taking so much from you, it hadn’t crossed her mind that you would ever want anything in return. Then one night, she asked you about your feelings and you were honest. She walked out saying that she needed space and time to think. It hurt, but you didn’t fight her. 

“Thank you so much! You are a lifesaver!” She says as she gets in the truck with you. 

“In more ways than one, right?” You wink and she shakes her head. “It’s not a problem. I’ll take a better look at the shop and fix it up. I won’t charge you for it either.” 

This makes her frown, “You shouldn’t do that for me. Not after the way I’ve been treating you.” 

“Leigh, it’s not a problem. Really,” you promise. “I’ll work on it after hours so it’s not cutting into business time. It’s my shop, I can do as I please,” your light tone makes her smile a little. It wasn’t your shop, yet, but since you were going to inherit it someday you liked to joke around about nepotism. It warms your heart a little, knowing she did remember some details about you. “Besides, how are you supposed to get back on your feet without a little help along the way?” Leigh goes quiet and doesn’t say another word the rest of the way to her new job. She barely says a goodbye as she exits the truck. You don’t take it too personally. She said that she had a lot going on and the last thing you wanted to do was be added to the list of her problems.

You take the car back to work and have it sitting in an empty spot to work on later. Depending on what needed to be done, you had other clients that wouldn’t be so understanding if you didn’t have their cars ready on time. And you didn’t like to give people a hard time. When the rest of the workers have left for the end of the day you send Leigh a text to ask if she needed a ride home. She doesn’t respond. You spend a few hours assessing the damage to her car and find that a lot of work needed to be done and that the vehicle hasn’t been serviced in a long time. Pretty much how I found Leigh, the thought makes you laugh to yourself. 

Closing up for the night, you check your phone and find no messages from Leigh. It makes you a little sad but you remind yourself that she’s going through a lot at the moment. She doesn’t have time to have anything complicated with you right now. However, while you’re making yourself dinner, you get a phone call. 

“Sorry, I didn’t need a ride home. I had my sister pick me up,” she says first thing. “Thank you for offering, by the way. Sometimes I think you’re too good for this world.” You smile at the thought, she didn’t know you nearly as well as you did her but you weren’t going to correct her. You liked that she only knew the good side of you. “So, um, how long do you think I’m going to be without a car?” 

“I think it’ll be done by hmm, Friday,” you estimate. “When was the last time you took that thing in for maintenance?” She remains silent and it makes you laugh. “I thought as much. Well, I wish the news was better. You’re lucky it broke down in your garage and not in the middle of the road. So Friday or Sunday. I will do my best to have it done by then.” 

“Thank you, really,” she whispers and you know that she isn’t alone anymore.

“Tell your husband I said hi,” you tease. “Goodbye, Leigh.” You hang up the phone and a few seconds after, you receive a text from her telling you that you’re not funny. But it only makes you think that you’re that much funnier. 

A few days go by and you don’t hear another word from Leigh. You don’t mind, you need to focus on work and on her car. You didn’t need to be thinking about how good she tasted or how amazing it felt when she’d moan in order to let you know that you were doing something right. First rule was; if it isn’t good, don’t pretend that it is. The two of you learned so much about each other that way. It was kind of odd how she could know so much and yet so little about you. But you wanted to change that. You wanted her to know all of you. However, she didn’t want that and she was married. That complicated many, many things. 

Friday afternoon, she calls you during her lunch hour and asks for an update on her car. You tell her that it should be ready by the end of the night, but that it could possibly take another day, depending if a part you ordered for it is delivered later that day. She thanks you and before she ends the call you hear her whisper that she misses you. It makes a part of you grow excited but you choose to ignore it and get back to work. 

Fortunately for her, the part arrives on time and you’re a little saddened that this could be the last reason you have to talk with her. She would have her car and her job and her writing and her husband and there would be no place for you in her life again. You almost wanted to be a jerk and find ways to keep her car hostage a little longer just so that she’d have to see you. But you don’t. You send her a picture of the part and tell her that the car should be ready by the end of the day. She replies that she’ll have her sister drop her off and that she insists on negotiating something with you. 

Instead of fighting her on it through text messages that could possibly get her in trouble at work. You simply send a see you later message and leave it at that. Leigh is a little thrown off by the short message. She expected some playful banter, a flirtatious response, anything that wasn’t what she was given. She begins to nervously chew on her thumbnail as she considers that maybe you lost interest in her already. The thought that should have brought her comfort, only saddened her. 

Then it confused her. She knew that her marriage was practically over and that in itself had been a tough pill to swallow. But would she be ready to move on so fast when the time came to finally pull the plug? Move from a bad marriage to a possibly good relationship with you. Would the two of you be able to trust each other? Would she find her happy ending with you? Or were you just what she needed in this desperate time in her life and the two of you would be better off going your separate ways?

She didn’t know, and right now, she wasn’t sure that any of that mattered. Leigh carries on with her day and when she gets home she gets ready to see you. She tells Matt that she is going out with some friends and Jules and not to wait up for her. He was smiling at his phone the whole time, ignoring her. She asks if he heard her and he looks at her confused. When he notices her all dressed up, he doesn’t have that look in his eyes that he once did. Back when he found her attractive. He doesn’t even find her outfit suspicious. She’s certain that she could leave in nothing but lingerie and he wouldn’t care in the slightest. Leigh repeats herself to him and he tells her that he was planning on going out with his brother, Danny, anyway. She knew that he wasn’t. It wasn’t any wonder why he didn’t touch her anymore. 

Before her arrangement with you, she fully believed her husband when he told her he wasn’t in the mood because of his new medication. That was the case once upon a time. But once she started sneaking around with you and she realized how easy it was to get away with. That’s when she knew Matt wasn’t interested in her anymore. He was interested in someone else. She had her theories but she wouldn’t know for certain until she confronted him. But she wasn’t sure if she cared enough to have the exhausting argument that was bound to cause in order to find out.    

As you are putting the finishing touches to Leigh’s car, you think about the many different scenarios in what could possibly happen between you and Leigh tonight. She’ll probably want to set up a payment plan with you and you were prepared to shut her down. She would try to convince you otherwise and you would stand your ground. Then there were the more hopeful fantasies where she walks in to tell you that she left her husband and wants to be with you. Or that she loves you but she can’t leave her husband quite yet. Then your mind went too far and you imagined her walking in dressed as one of your favorite comic book characters, ready to fuck you again. 

“Looking good,” Leigh breaks you out of your head as she enters the garage of the autobody shop. 

“Thanks, but I haven’t done anything fun to your car. It’s all interior work,” you say as you shut the hood and clean off a bit of grease that had gotten on the paint with a rag. Finally done with the repairs.

Leigh snakes her way into your view, shaking her head. “I’m not talking about the car,” her sultry tone has your heart racing in anticipation. You freeze like a statue watching as she takes the rag out of your hands and drops it to the floor. “I’m talking about you,” she whispers against your lips. You gulp as she inches closer with every word. She tentatively touches your chest, sliding her hands up and around your neck. You struggle to find the ability to think with her so close.

“What are yo-mmh!” Your question is cut off by her intoxicating lips. It's been weeks since the last kiss the two of you shared. You’re quickly realizing that it’s been the longest weeks of your entire life. You place your hands firmly on her hips and pull her body flush against yours. Not being able to get close enough. There’s no way you’re letting this opportunity slip through your fingers. 

Carefully, you lift her on the hood of her car, never removing your lips from hers. Or caring that you’re probably staining her dress with the grease on your gloves. She pulls away long enough to giggle from the action, you even manage a smile before you recapture her lips, swallowing the continued laughter. Her hands roam all over; your face, hair, covered chest, neck, and even starts pulling on the collar of your work jumpsuit. 

Feeling the all too familiar dangerous heat between the two of you, you attempt to step back. Only to be held closer by her legs locked on your waist. You grin at her and unzip the jumpsuit, it’s easy to pull the sleeves off but not so easy to step out of, you almost fall over. Leigh catches you before you tumble off to the side and you shake your head, slightly embarrassed. She makes it better by grabbing your head and resuming the kiss. 

You respond with a little too much enthusiasm but she isn’t pulling away. You’re a little surprised that she’s allowed things to go this far. She has been putting everything to a halt ever since you told her how you felt. Ever since she shut things down, you couldn’t even glance in her direction in class without her rejecting you. All too soon she’s pushing you back. Reluctantly, you comply and pull away bracing yourself for her to tell you all of the reasons this has to stop. But the mischievous glint in her eyes says otherwise. “Maybe we should take this upstairs,” she hops off the hood and beckons you with the curl of her finger. You follow, like an obedient dog as she makes her way to your apartment upstairs. Tossing your work gloves on the way.  

Once you’re inside, you slam the door shut and push her up against it. Keeping her pinned to the wood, you push a strand of hair behind her ear then lightly trail your hand down her neck, over her shoulder, and slowly down her arm feeling her goosebumps dance from the contact of your skin. You hold eye contact with her as you lock the door, smiling at the satisfying click of the lock. You enjoy the way your chests move in sync as you breathe each other in. “Smooth, where’d you learn that one?” She attempts a joke, tension never faltering. 

A seductive smile, at least you hope it’s seductive, curls up on your face as both of your hands find their way behind her thighs. “Saw it in a movie,” you grunt as you lift her up, pulling her legs around your waist. You begin to pepper soft kisses along her neck. 

Leigh gasps in surprise, “Oh yeah? What movie?” 

Smiling against her skin, the only thing on your mind is her, “Can’t seem to remember.” 

Groaning in frustration, she pulls your head up from where you started to explore her collarbone and latches onto you for another rushed kiss. You weren’t sure how much time she had but something told you it wasn’t a lot. It doesn’t seem to matter much once you start to lose your mind as she keeps a hold of your head with a tight grip on your hair. You can’t say that you mind though, anything to distract from your racing thoughts. You roll your hips against hers. Her chest arches against yours as her mouth hangs, her head tilted back leaving her neck open to you with her eyes screwed shut. If you weren't in total awe of her right now you probably wouldn’t have heard her silent plea of, “Again.”

Holding her close to you, you roll your hips again and again until you can’t take it anymore and bunch up the dress she was wearing in order to get your fingers inside of her. Holding her steady with one arm and your body still close, you move your free hand around her body. You are further surprised when you find that she doesn’t have any underwear on. This was what she meant by negotiating, now you’re caught up. You bring your lips back to hers and sigh through your nose as you slip one finger inside of her. Leigh pulls away panting heavily and begins to scatter kisses along your jaw and down your neck. She makes her way back up to your ear as she whispers, “I need more of you.” 

“Yeah?” You ask as you insert another finger and kiss her shoulder. 

She bites her lip and nods, enjoying the feel of you inside of her once again. You add to her pleasure as you begin to use your thumb to rub circles on her clitorous. “Mmm, I’ve missed you,” she says as she starts to move her hips to ride your fingers. You use them the way you’ve learned how and delight in watching her face as she is being satisfied the way a woman like her deserves to be. 

When she looks like she is close, you stop what you’re doing and pull your fingers out of her. Leigh scowls at you as she tries to catch her breath but she knows you. She trusts that you wouldn’t leave her like this. A complete mess, desperate for a release. You lift your hand up and maintain eye contact with her as you lick her juices off of your fingers. Moaning as you savor the taste. She whimpers as she watches you. Then she bites her lip, anticipating your next move. 

Returning your hand to her side, you pry her legs apart from their tight grip on you so that you can kneel in front of her. She keeps her curious eyes on you as you get lower and her eyes shut the second that your tongue slips through her folds. Her hands tangle in your hair again and she rocks against your face as you enthusiastically eat her out. “Just like that, fuck,” she curses as you move your tongue in her pussy. 

You’re eager to taste her like this again. This time you enjoy as much of her as you can. Not certain that there will be another chance to have her in this way again. With her legs on your shoulders, you thrust your fingers inside of her again while your mouth gives attention to her clit. She begins to move her hips as gets closer to the edge again. You hold onto her to keep her from falling as she orgasms into your mouth. You revel in having made her cum so fast. Her whole body shakes from the impact of the orgasm. The last one she had was with you and she can’t believe that she had deprived herself of this for as long as she had. You keep your mouth on her as she rides out her high and don’t stop until she is trying to push you away. 

Carefully, you set her feet back onto the ground. She isn’t able to stand on her own so you have to help her as you rise to be face to face with her. She gives you a lazy, satiated smile. “You know, I came here to give you an orgasm, not receive one from you. After all the work that you did for me, I didn’t need another thing to thank you for.” 

You shrug as you wipe off some of her arousal from around your mouth. “Trust me, letting me do that was the best payment I’ve ever received.” You trace her lips with your finger that had been inside of her just seconds ago. Slowly, you slip them between her lips. “Clean them off,” you tell her and she does while maintaining eye contact. Tasting herself and enjoying it but not nearly as much as you had, she finds pleasure in obeying you. She licks and sucks your fingers clean and the sight is almost enough to make you reach a high of your own.  

When she’s done with your fingers, Leigh sets her hands on your chest again and pushes you further into the apartment. “My turn,” she says as you hit the armrest of the sofa. She kisses you as she works on your belt and jeans. Once they pool around your ankles, Leigh breaks the kiss and drops to her knees in front of you. She places her mouth on you and does what she had done to your fingers. She licks you, she sucks you, and she looks up to watch you as she makes you fall apart. 

You try to keep your eyes open but she knows all of the ways to make that impossible. You warn her that you’re close but she doesn’t remove her mouth from you. Instead she adds her hand to get you there so much faster. You let out a low moan as you reach your climax, nearly falling onto the rest of the sofa. She does for you what you had done for her, she licks up as much of your release as she can. 

As you come down from your high and Leigh is making her way up your body, pulling your shirt up and pressing her lips to your skin along the way, your thoughts start to return. Why is this happening right now? She is the one who said she didn’t want us. Is this her way of showing me she’s changed her mind? Does she want a relationship with me? Or is this just sex like before. “Penny for your thoughts?” Leigh continues to pepper light kisses along your exposed shoulder as she pulls your shirt further up. “Where’d you go? I feel like I lost you for a moment there.”

You sigh through your nose, trying to decide whether or not you want to ruin this moment by expressing your thoughts. You help her remove your shirt and decide that all of that could wait for another day. Right now it was about you and her making each other feel good. “Nowhere, I’m right here,” you say as you bring her lips to meet yours, tasting the mix of you and her. Then, stepping out of your shoes and pants, you walk her over to your bedroom. “How much time do you have?” You ask as you start to take her dress off. 

“All night,” she whispers as she helps you with her dress. She goes to remove her heels but stops when you shake your head.

“Perfect,” you shut the door behind you once the two of you are inside.  

In the morning, she’s still lying there beside you. It’s quite a sight to see, her tangled in your bed sheets while she was peacefully asleep. You never thought you’d get lucky enough to see it before she was out of your life for good. Making the most out of the time you still have, you kiss her shoulder. When she doesn’t stir awake, you remember what she had whispered to you once many weeks ago. 

The two of you were fantasizing with each other what kind of things that you want to do with each other but probably never could because of the situation that she was in. “I want to wake up with your tongue inside of me,” the words ring through your head as you make your way between her legs under the covers to fulfill one of her sexual desires. You start by kissing her thighs to get body to react. She moves from laying on her side to laying on her back and you wonder if she is awake. But when you lift the covers to check, her eyes are still closed. So you go back down and start kissing her body again. 

Then lightly, you dip the tip of your tongue between her folds to test her. Grazing her clit every time you move your tongue. Not completely believing that she is still asleep. But she doesn’t show otherwise. So you continue on, you get your arms around her thighs to get comfortable. You begin to trace her with your tongue. Then, pressing your tongue flat against her, you lick her in one long motion. Humming against her from her flavor. She lets out a moan and her legs move to tighten around your head. The corner of your mouth lifts up as you realize that she’s waking up. 

You bring your right hand back around while you continue to move your tongue in her. To add to her pleasure, you move your hand up her body to stimulate her breast, only to be met with her hand already playing with her nipple. You pause what you’re doing and lift the covers up to find Leigh with a tired pout because you stopped. 

“Good morning,” you greet in a husky whisper.

She hums in delight, turned on further just by your morning voice. “Good morning, indeed.” 

You move your hand down from where it was laying on top of hers and with both hands on the mattress you push yourself up her body, placing a few kisses along the way. You stop at her chest to kiss both of breasts. Making your way further up, you hover your lips over hers. She tries to kiss you but you move back, not creating much space between you and her but enough that she can’t meet her lips with yours. Leigh’s eyes move from yours to your lips as she bites her bottom lip, anticipating when or if you’ll finally kiss her. 

Lowering your right hand between you and her, you enter her slowly but without warning. Leigh gasps as she is filled by you and once you’ve buried yourself deep enough, she chases your lips again but you don’t let her catch you. She begins to pout at you again as you thrust into her, finding a rhythm. It makes you smile, teasing her this way. But she doesn’t care for it, so she moves her lips to kiss other parts of you. Only for a few seconds, you allow her to get what she wants. Then you stop her from kissing your body. She tries to kiss your mouth and you pull out of her completely and she narrows her eyes at you. “Are you trying that power play bullshit?” She asks, her body is begging for a release and you playing with her like this was only testing her patience instead of turning her on. 

Your cheeks flush a bright red. “No,” you drag out the word in a playful manner. She scowls at you, making you break into laughter as you fall beside her. “I’m sorry, I thought you might like it.” 

“Babe,” Leigh climbs on top of you and guides you back into her. “All I need is you, not some gimmick to spice things up.” You watch her in awe as she rides you. Then she locks her arms around your neck as she finally gets the kiss she had been hungry for since she woke up from the morning cunnilingus. With one hand, you work on bringing her to her climax with the other placed firmly on her hips. 

Leigh bites your lip as she ends the kiss and moves onto the existing hickies from last night. She intended to make them worse. So no one else would be tempted and although she disliked this sudden possessiveness over you, she hated the thought of you with someone else so much more. She wished that she could promise you all of her right here, right now. But she couldn’t. She was still married to… oh she couldn’t think about this right now. She was here, with you, and you were much more desirable than her thoughts. 

She lifts her body from where it was against yours and grips onto the headboard to keep her grounded. But then she started to picture a life with you. Many mornings like this one, and many nights like last night. Until kids come into the picture. Did you want kids? Maybe you had mentioned it and she ignored you because she didn’t want to know. Now she worried that she was losing her heart to someone that might hurt her the same way or worse. At least she worried for the split second she was able to have the thought. You quickly clear her mind as you bring her closer and closer to the sweet edge only you’ve managed to get her to. Before you, Leigh thought she knew what an orgasm was like. Now she wished that she had met you sooner. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Leigh cries out as she collapses on top of you. 

“So much better than coffee,” you pant out. 

Leigh laughs and places a lazy kiss on your shoulder. “Did you cum?” She asks as she slides off to the side. She adjusts her position so that she is holding you while the two of you come back to earth. 

“Yeah,” you say between breaths with a contagious grin. Leigh mirrors the expression, feeling the energy that you were. 

“I love you,” she whispers and before you can say it back she swallows your words with a deep kiss. “Don’t say it,” she says with pleading eyes when she pulls away for a second. You nod and choose to express your feelings through another kiss. 

After the two of you lay in your bed for a couple hours, in silence, holding each other, tracing lazy patterns on one another, you pull away from her completely. She sits up, pulling the blanket with her to remain covered and watches you. Worried that your thoughts might’ve caught up with you the way that her own thoughts have. You get up and grab some underwear from your dresser to slip on. Then some jeans and then a t-shirt. You sit on the edge of the bed so that you can put socks on. 

“Do you think you’ll ever be ready to leave him?” You remain facing away from her as you let the question slip out. Knowing that you wouldn’t have the courage otherwise.  

Leigh shuts her eyes, feeling like the question had stabbed her in the chest. Even though it was a fair question. She wanted to give you a simple answer. It should be a simple answer. But she couldn’t, the situation was too complicated to give you a yes or a no. There were still some good between them. Some of the reasons she married him still exist. And yet they were miserable. The love that was once there, was long gone. They didn’t even have respect for each other anymore. The only way to end each other's misery was to end the marriage. She knew it, she’s pretty certain he knew it too. What was taking them so long, she had no idea. 

Feeling as though you might slip away while she makes up her mind, Leigh crawls closer to you. Slipping her arms between yours, she lays her head on your right shoulder as she hugs you from behind. Needing to be close to you. Needing to hold you. Maybe if her arms are tight enough, you won’t be able to leave her just yet when she says all of the wrong things. “I want to,” she pauses as she considers how much she wants to open up to you. “Every day I think I will just do it. Forget my plans, just pack up my things and move back in with my mom. But she has Jules’ sobriety to deal with already. I’m not sure I want to pile my marital problems onto her. Even if I did, we can’t afford a divorce right now. Not unless we’re both able to come to an agreement without getting lawyers involved.” 

You nod as you hear her out. You wish that you could make all of her problems disappear, but she needed to know that she could do it on her own. There was nothing better than finding your independence. The strength and liberation was not something you wanted to take away from her. Another thing, you didn’t want her to feel like she had to be with you because she owed you. You wanted her to be with you because she loves you, because she wants you. 

While she talks, she continues to wrap her naked body around you. She tosses the covers to the side so she can trap you with her legs as much as she had with her arms. Listening to her, you mindlessly rub her smooth legs to comfort her as best as you can. Knowing that you won’t be able to once you put an end to whatever this is. She needed you to do it. If you didn’t then she would have the option to run to you when she felt weak. She wouldn’t ever find that fire or that strength that you knew was buried deep inside of her. You needed to stop being selfish and you needed to let her go. But the way she clinged onto you made it so difficult to want to do the right thing. 

Luckily, there is a knock on your front door and she falls away from you. Not without one more kiss, of course. “You can help yourself to any of my clothes,” you tell her as you leave the room, shutting the door behind you. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Y/n. But uh, there’s a girl down there claiming you might know where her sister is,” your coworker says. Although the shop wasn’t meant to open for another couple hours, she always showed up the earliest. The two of you usually opened up together. She was kind of your friend. It was hard to tell because she was pretty closed off. 

“Yeah, uh, tell her she’ll be down in a second,” you shut the door and sigh. 

“Who was it?” Leigh asks, stepping out in only your t-shirt. 

You fall against the front door, your breath taken away by the sight of her. “Reality,” you answer. “Listen, Leigh,” she rushes over to you to stop you from speaking. But you had to do the right thing here. “Once you walk out that door, you have to promise me,” your words fail you as she takes your hand and you lose your strength, “not to call me until you can see me again.” Those weren’t the words that you thought were going to be coming out of your mouth. You wanted to tell her that this was the last time. That she had to make up her mind. That whatever was between the two of you was over until it could be permanently defined. “I don’t want you to get into some sort of trouble. You know?” You drop your head to look at the ground, a little disappointed in yourself. 

She smiles and kisses your forehead, “Okay, I promise.” Leigh lifts your head to start something she can’t finish and you stop her by placing both of your hands over hers. 

“No, we can’t anymore. Your sister is here. Probably freaking out because you disappeared for the night,” you explain as you drop her hands.

“Right, shit, I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this.” Leigh panics quietly to herself and you try to reassure her that everything will be okay when there is another knock on your door. You shoo Leigh back to the room to get some pants and wait until your bedroom is closed before opening the door in front of you. 

This time it isn’t your co-worker. But it isn’t Jules either. It’s the man that you’ve only seen in pictures. You gulp as you try to keep your composer. “Can I help you?” You say with a voice steadier than you are. He doesn’t get a syllable out before Leigh walks out of the room with your pajama pants on this time. 

“Look, Jules this isn’t what you–” she stops when she sees him instead. All of the blood rushes out of her face and tears spring to her eyes. “Matt,” she chokes out in a harsh whisper.

Part 2

Taglist: @madamevirgo @wqndanat @thisischaismagic @artisannat @olsensnpm @evenbeingcrazy1998 @bentleywolf29 @awkwardmandalorian @agaymilflover @sayah13 @princessprudy @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @piningismymiddlename @the-writer-arcane @abimess @diaryoflife @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff

[diary-of-my-devil]

October 3rd, 2015

I was a few weeks shy of 14 and I’d had a hell of a year. My aunt’s death had been a wave of ice cold water on my system and my feelings were still frozen when I got the news that my grandpa had died. I didn’t cry when my dad came into my room to tell me the news. I just said “oh, okay” and continued on with whatever I was doing. 

I think it was a Sunday night when it happened. If it was, it was on the 20th of September. I always mix the date up, though. My reason for believing it was that day, specifically a Sunday, was because I remember going to school and telling my friends “yeah, we have Friday off of school, but I’ll be spending it at a funeral”. I was in that ICU waiting room eating Burger King onion rings hours before.

I think my mom was thinking heavily about going to a grief camp after my aunt, who you should know was not technically my aunt, but a close family friend, had died. My sisters were at the Detroit Zoo with my grandma when that had happened, my mom calling her to tell her the news and beg her to not tell them. My grandma is a bit of a loud mouth, in all honesty.

My grandpa’s death was sort of the defining factor for it, the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. After he had passed, after the funeral and the absolutely awful experience of that, she had brought up to me and my sisters that she wanted to help us, and that the zoo in my city was holding one for all ages and that she would like for us all to go.

I didn’t want to go. I really didn’t want to go. I was dealing with crippling anxiety that was not yet diagnosed, let alone treated, and insurmountable grief. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about it with a ton of strangers. I don’t know how I would’ve spent the time if I hadn’t gone, but I would’ve had more fun with that.

Mom threw out information about this grief camp for days leading up to it. How we would probably get free things (god, I’m a sucker for free shit), how they would provide food, how it would only be for a few hours. I didn’t agree to go until that morning. Ultimately, I wanted to make my mom happy.

It did make her happy, by the way.

By the way, I regret going.

It was October 3rd in the middle of Michigan. Apparently kids and parents from around the state had all come along to attend this event. It was held outside, under tents and while it was windy I think they had space heaters in the tents with us. We were split into age categories. I was allowed in the 14-17 group despite still being 13, because I was close enough. I was basically already 14, it just wasn’t official for another couple weeks, you know?

That’s when and where I met him.

There was nothing remarkable about him and his appearance. He looked like any other teenage boy in Michigan during that time. He had dirty blonde hair in what looked like a slightly grown out buzzcut, wore a hoodie and dark blue jeans with sneakers. He really wasn’t remarkable. I went to school with countless other guys that matched his style.

Apparently I was remarkable, though. To him at least.

It was weeks before I was able to cut all my hair off. I had to keep my long hair until after my aunt’s wedding, because it was long and beautiful and she had already hired someone to do our hair and had the consultation. I instead had it hidden in a bun underneath a beanie, grown out side bangs from my wannabe scene-kid haircut sticking out of the FBI hat I had gotten in DC months before.

I was wearing a leather jacket, I don’t recall what was underneath it though. For bottoms I was either wearing leggings or skinny jeans with slightly heeled boots. I don’t remember much about what I wore.

While he wasn’t remarkable, I knew something was going to happen. I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I believe you know when someone is going to have a large impact on your life from the first look. Whether or not it’s going to be good or bad was revealed in time.

We stuck by each other for a majority of the time, along with another girl in our age group. When I saw my mom later in the day she had looked relieved, that I had made some friends. We had exchanged numbers at the end of the event and all went our separate ways, I went home while they had gone to the cities they had come from.

Hours later, while I was out shopping with my grandma, I had gotten a call from a number that wasn’t saved in my phone. At the time, I didn’t have experiences that brought me dread at a mysterious phone number, so I answered. It was him.

I’m not naming him yet, simply because I don’t know if I want to. If I want to put his name out there and be at risk of legal action if someone puts the pieces together and identifies him, or use the nickname I’d used for him online when I’ve talked about these experiences.

We had small talk, most of which I can’t remember. I remember my grandma wondering who I was talking to. I recall him boldly asking me out, over the phone when we had only met just hours before. I remember telling him I didn’t know who or what I was into. That I didn’t know if I liked boys or girls or both.

He said that made me sexier. 

Like I had said previously, I was a doormat. Still kind of am, to be honest. I didn’t know how to say no anymore, considering I had already had my first experience with saying no and it being completely ignored. So, I did what any normal confused, sad teenager would do, and I said yes.

He wasn’t my first boyfriend, and not my last, but fuck he’s one of the more memorable ones for all of the wrong reasons. But we’ll get to that later. 

My first boyfriend was a friend I had since preschool. His family owned a bowling alley in a nearby town and he was a bit spoiled, if not certainly more wealthy than I was. He had a trampoline AND a pool! It was an easy relationship, despite my mental struggles during that time.

I had later found out he only asked me out because he was too nervous to ask out my friend, but we lasted about a year. I don’t regret the relationship and the times I spent at his house, with his family and our friends playing video games or fucking around on Omegle. I cringe, yes, but it’s not something I regret.

There was a boy I dated for a couple weeks not long after my breakup from my first boyfriend. A friend of mine, although not nearly as long as I had been with the first. He’s the one that didn’t know what the word “no” meant, but this is not about him. Yes, I do regret it.

So I had some experience with dating before him. Not much, not as much as many of my peers did, but this wasn’t my first time dating someone. This was different, yes, but not entirely new. While my two previous boyfriends had each lived a walking distance away, he was in a completely different town.

We were two young high schoolers who couldn’t drive, so it was going to be a semi-long distance relationship. Did I have feelings for him? No, not really, we had met and become friends just hours ago, but why not give it a shot? It couldn’t hurt, right?

Right?

So October 3rd of 2015 was when this whole shitshow of a relationship began. I regret this day more than any other. I wish I had stayed home, rotting in my bed with the lights off. I wish I was comfortable with letting him down gently. I wish I had never met him.

[lubdubsworld]

Blackberry Winters.

Part 1

Namjoon Werewolf Au !

Alpha werewolf!

Heavy angst.! Pregnancy, unrequited love, hate to love, prejudice, mental health issues.

-------------------------------

There is a tide in the affairs of men, which , taken at the flood leads on to fortune. Opportunities had to be seized and made use of and you had to be bold and confident in order to lead your people to fortune.

Namjoon, as the head alpha of the Kim clan, knew this better than anyone else. Which was why he was here, in a meeting with alphas from the three neighbouring clans lining his boundary lines, hoping to get permission to access the seven or so aquifers that lay to the east of the packhouse.

The rains had been kind to them, the reservoirs were full but he wanted to make sure they had a backup plan just in case things went south in some way. His father had taught him that. Being prepared for the worst was second nature to him now. The land around the aquifers was rich and fertile and Jungkook had already let him plant tangerines and apples in the area for the little ones. The harvest was generally shared between the two clans and Namjoon was grateful for the easy camaraderie that the alpha of the land offered him.

The land belonged to alpha Jeon , a dear friend by all means and he knew that Jungkook would grant him permission as he always did . But still it was never a certainty. The council members had the final say and many of them held a grudge when he refused to marry Jungkook's sister last spring. That had been a no brainer for him. Junghee was beautiful but also like a sister to him, besides being incredibly intelligent. He didn't need a wife like that. And that was why he had picked, Jiah.

Sighing, Namjoon glanced back at the campsite where the women were gathered, sitting in small groups and laughing around a blazing fire while a few alphas hung about roasting meat and passing out moats of wine around . His eyes fell on his wife, timid and shy , sitting away from the rest and regret churned. He had been impulsive. She was ill suited to be his wife , and the last three months had been a bitter wake up call. Namjoon was well read, eloquent and bold. His wife was barely illiterate, with a stutter and shifty eyes that never met anyone's gaze head on.

He had chosen her because she had seemed docile and pliant and while she was definitely that, she was also ....at the risk of sounding rude and unkind, very very boring.

A simpleton. She seemed to know nothing about anything, content to disappear into the shadows, to hide and hang back and practically become one with the upholstery when he asked her to sit next to him.

It had been three months and they had barely spoken beyond a dozen words. It was awkward and stilted and just plain uncomfortable, sleeping with her. Sex was supposed to fun and passionate and filled with excitement and desire but with her , it was a chore he couldn't wait to cross off his list.

Leaning back against one of the poles holding up the makeshift tent, he watched her as she scooted away from one of the older omegas in the Jeon clan, the lady looking startled at the reaction. He shook his head in despair. He hadn't even wanted to bring her along but his mother had insisted. Something about her being young and innocent, too shy to stay behind with strangers for two whole weeks while he traveled to the Jeon's .

How was he supposed to explain that they were strangers as well ? That despite the label of mates, despite the fact that he had been the one to choose her, he felt nothing for her? Not even the idle curiosity one felt for strangers?

It was partly her demeanour, but mostly her appearance. She wasn't well groomed and it always made him frown. He had hoped that she would at least keep herself presentable, maybe hire the weavers to make her a few new tunics .

Something colorful and patterned like the ones the other omegas wore during festivities. The Kim clan had a lucrative fabric trade with the Min pack , and Yoongi and Hoseok always kept the most luxurious and vibrant silks and fabrics for him.

Jiah had shown a brief and fleeting interest in the luxurious threads, when his mother had brought her along to the tailor to get her wedding trousseau done....but the moment the young beta had asked her questions about her likes and dislikes, she had recoiled and went back into her shell. Namjoon had watched the whole scene, annoyance growing with every passing second. He wanted her to be pliant but also independent. Low maintenance . But apparently he would have to hold her hand through everything.

And that's when he'd begun to actively distance himself from his wife. He didn't have the time nor inclination to help her navigate her new life. He was busy, what with autumn coming to an end and the first chills of winter already beginning to permeate the air. The betas and alphas in the pack were already occupied with hunting enough meat to last them the winter, the women busy with curing the meat with spices and salt.....

He should have left her behind with them.

" A coin for your thoughts, Alpha Kim?"

Kim Jisoo came to stand by him, her scent of floral dust and vanilla cloyingly sweet on his senses. She had helped him with many a rut and he had always nurtured a sweet spot for the omega who was well versed in many languages. She was also one of the courtesans they had brought along for the evening entertainment. Jisoo slipped her hands through his arm and he smiled, letting her brush close to his torso.

His gaze went to his wife, who was staring at him, eyes blank and lips parted softly. She looked a little upset.

Which was understandable but still annoying. They weren't in love or anything and he wasn't cheating on her. Jisoo was a friend. He was allowed to have those. Jiah had no right to look at him with suspicion or with entitlement. He didn't owe her all her time. He wondered if she would react if he were to confront her now. As it is , he let himself stare right at her, half wishing that she would talk back to him.

But the moment their eyes met, Jiah looked away, entire body shifting as though in embarassment. He frowned , but lightly patted the soft fingers curled on his arm. He turned to Jisoo with a smile, taking in the pretty elfin features. The perfectly curled hair , threaded with gold and jeweler pins fell in soft ropes around her face, her lips tinted red and her cheeks brushed rose. She looked enchanting and unreal and he felt his blood stir in arousal, the need to feel her under him suddenly overwhelming.

He glanced back at Jiah and she looked a little green , her face ashen. His eyes narrowed when she shifted and looked around in a mild panic. Oh God, what was it now?

Irritable, he gently pulled away from the beautiful omega next to him.

" Excuse me, dear. I need to check on my wife." He said apologetically and she frowned staring at where he was looking.

"What's wrong?" Jisoo asked sharply but he ignored her, already moving to his mate.

Which was just as well, because the moment he reached her, her eyes rolled back and she toppled right into his arms.

She had fainted .

---------------------------------

" I'm sorry we had to cut this short but I hope your mate feels better soon, hyung." Jungkook's voice was laced with genuine concern and Namjoon nodded, hugging the younger alpha tight.

Junghee looked just as sympathetic, next to him.

" She'll be fine . I tried to get her to stay but she's been panicking a lot and refuses to let any of the healers here examine her. I think she'll be more comfortable with your pack healer. " She said gently.

Namjoon nodded, glancing back at Jiah who sat side-saddle on one of the smaller ponies, her eyes wide and face still ashen. He had tried to tell her it would be okay , but she had insisted on going home. The stark terror on her face had unsettled him deeply. He didn't know why she was so scared of the Jeon healer? Could it be because he was a man? Whatever the reason she hadn't let him examine her and because he couldn't ask her to just forget about the whole thing ( he was still head alpha , he still had to set an example as a caring mate. ) Namjoon had been forced to arrange for their return back home.

He had left Seokjin and Taehyung behind to carry the talks on his behalf, and Jisoo stood a few dozen feet away looking annoyed as he gave her

an apologetic smile.

The journey back to the Main village would be a couple of days and he had packed enough food for the both of them.

As he turned back to mount his stallion, he caught a glimpse of her face as she stared at him.

She looked lost , apologetic and clearly upset.

And he wondered if he would have to spend the rest of his life reading her face, trying to figure her out.

He has no interest in either.

-------------------------

The journey became incredibly tiring, especially when the skies opened up on them. Rain Lashed the ground , intent on soaking the earth and Namjoon watched her shiver, trembling as they all huddled beneath the shade of some trees, blankets wrapped tight around her thin torso. Why was she so thin? Why did she look at food like it was poisoned?

They were only a mile from home but had to stop, the deluge was far too strong for the animals to see ahead of them.

Namjoon himself sat next to an omega from the clan. He recognised her as one of the maids his mother had given to Jiah.

" Is your mistress doing well?" He asked gruffly and the omega startled, bowing twice in respect before answering.

"I...she ... She doesn't say much, alpha." The girl blushed under his gaze, looking away nervously and he frowned, glancing back at Jiah.

So it wasn't just him, then. She didn't trust anyone. He stared at her till she felt the heat of his gaze and looked up, eyes wide like a startled bird, like one of the starlings that nested in the wooden beams of his hut. She looked surprised, then terrified, eyes darting away at once and he tried not to growl in sheer frustration.

He wondered if it was because of his face.

Namjoon had no large feelings about his looks but he knew he was far from beautiful. ( A/N : A whole lie , I know but please bear with me for the story :*) it was one of the reasons he had wanted a plain looking bride. But perhaps his own chosen mate had , had dreams of marrying a very handsome man? Perhaps she had been infatuated with someone like that , from the clan?

It wasn't a far fetched idea. But still, she had been free to refuse his proposal. When he had first met the clan's watchkeeper, old man Gong in the humble hut on the outer borders of the pack land, he had made it clear that it wasn't some kind of order. She was free to refuse.

But she hadn't.

She had merely bowed and agreed and promptly appeared with a satchel full of her things and followed him back to his own home.

So why did she continue to act like she was here against her will?

It irked him no end.

As the skies cleared, they began their trek again and Namjoon pushed thoughts of her out of his mind. He had to plan for the winter, make sure there was enough food and also make sure they had enough herbs and liniments and oils in the apothecary. Mind drifting off to the countless things he was responsible for, Namjoon forgot all about his awkward mate and the reason they were going back home in the first place.

Which is why, when they reached home and he took his bath, cleaning himself up and finally settling down to some delicious food from the kitchens , his mother's words made him drop the chopsticks in shock.

" She is with child."

Namjoon stared at his mother in complete shock.

Fuck.

---------------------------------------------

Authors Note : I had this idea and just had to write it. Hope you guys enjoyed it.

[hansolmates]

the proposal (m)

banner done by the ammmahhzzing @eerieedits​

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. pairing; editor!Jungkook x assistant!reader (f) genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always w.c; 20.1k of endless banter and koo hiding his romantic side a/n; yeah, it’s almost summer. But i think we need a lil holiday magic in our lives! I rewatched the proposal this weekend and whipped this up. Why is koo so gosh darn easy to write? This is my longest fic since i wrote maze runner back in 2014!! i rec this extension to get fully immersed in 2pov! Enjoy and pls tell me if there’s any errors im too poopied to proofread it again drabbles; 01

“When I hired you, you basically signed a contract that said you’d do anything for me.” 

“Yeah, Jeon. I did. That meant like, getting you coffee or working late hours—normal work stipulations,” you can feel the hair on your scalp growing thinner, “not commit fucking fraud!” 

Your boss looks moreso frustrated than you are, but you cease to care. Jeon Jungkook has been nothing but a thorn in your side since your employment at Big Hit Publishing two years ago. Being a budding author who wanted to graduate from online sites and freelancing, you accepted the job as the editor-in-chief’s assistant in the hopes of getting your first book published. 

However, your dreams of being an editor are quickly dissipating, especially when Jungkook corners you this afternoon and announces that he may have left America during the time his work visa was still processing. He may have to give over his editor-in-chief position because there’s no way he can get a work visa processed in time. As a result of this information, he may have told his supervisors that you seduced him on a late night one year ago, and you two fell in love and have been secretly engaged ever since. 

Because y’know, your citizenship to this country is an asset to the company. 

“We didn’t have to go to Norway to PR Emma Watson’s autobio,” you huff, fingers going pale from how hard you were gripping your iPad. Jungkook is an esteemed workaholic, and you have no idea where it stems from. You remember that trip to Oslo, Jungkook insisting that you and him both go to make sure everything goes smoothly.

“You weren’t complaining when we went to that restaurant with the open bar.” he runs a hand through his coiffed hair, making the pomade untack from its style. “You got so drunk that Emma held you while you cried about global warming.” 

Wholly unamused, you frown. “Jungkook, can you please take this seriously?”

“I’m taking this seriously, you’re not the one who’s about to be deported in two weeks!” Jungkook hisses, face dangerously close to yours. Not that anyone would know what he’s saying, but you can tell from his defenses that he genuinely is nervous. 

“You wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew your Visa!” 

“I wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew my Visa!” 

At least twenty pairs of eyes are watching your confrontation, probably making their own conclusions as to what you two were fighting about again. Curse this office for having full-walled windows, you often feel like an ant in a plastic farm. Your work relationship is an anomaly to the rest of the staff. Before you started working at Big Hit, Jungkook’s assistants did not last long. Within the first week of working, you understood why. 

Jungkook whirls around his desk, glaring at the glass doors as he puts himself between the staff and you. “If you don’t marry me,” he says lowly, close enough for his hot breath to fan your face, coupled with his fresh-scented cologne. It annoys you how good he smells. “You’ll also be replaced because they want to give the my position to fuckin’ Karen of all people,” you fight the twitch of your lips. The only thing you two mutually agreed upon is the hatred of his co-editor, Karen. “All of the late nights we’ve worked together, the gallons of coffees you consumed, putting up with my shit, your dreams of becoming an author,” his eyes flicker to the way the grip in your iPad trembles, “will go down the drain and turn to shit. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.” 

Pretending to be unfazed, you bat your lashes, “So are you saying, you need me?” 

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Ah-ah, Jungkook. I’m not going to ask you to get on one knee, but you should at least tell me how much you need me.” 

You assume with great confidence that the only reason you’re kept on Jungkook’s payroll is because you’re not afraid to stand up to Jungkook’s bullshit. He looks positively disgusted at the mere thought of paying you an iota of a compliment. You’d say on average, you get half a compliment a month from Jungkook. You say half because he’ll compliment you, then downplay it with whatever flaw he can fabricate to get under your skin. 

He loosens his lavender paisley tie, annoyed. “Fine. I need you. I need you because you’re the only one who knows me well enough to be my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve had full conversations with in two years and knows all my dietary restrictions, favorite books, foods, and hobbies. By process of elimination, you are my best candidate.” 

“Romantic,” you roll your eyes, “I guess I do,” you push him away with a finger to his chest, “but I want a raise. And after we finish Sorn and Mark’s project, I want you to read my novel.” 

“Done and done.” 

“Well Jeon, I guess you’ve wifed me up with your ways of seduction.” you muse sardonically, feeling more upset for yourself than anything. 

“Fantastic,” he sighs, finally throwing his tie across the desk and plopping in his armchair. “Cancel the call with Janet, call PR about Irene Kim’s interview on Ellen, and order me a medium rare steak from J.J. Bittings with a side of brussels.” 

“Right,” you mutter under your breath as you pull up your checklist, as if you didn’t just give away your life to the Devil incarnate. 

Jungkook’s back is already facing you, focusing on his computer displaying two new manuscripts. “Oh, and on your way to J’s don’t forget to pick up your ring at Saks.”

“Bitch, you’re asking me to pick up my fake wedding ring?” 

Unbothered, he shrugs. You see the planes of his shoulders stretch beneath the blazer, because he’s deemed this conversation long over and he has work to do. “Yeah, but it’s real diamonds.” 

You’ve been seeing red for days. 

While the rock on your ring finger is indeed beautiful because Jungkook has impeccable taste, it drags you down and arouses the elephant in the room everytime you show up for work. 

You get enough stares on the daily, and you were just getting used to the looks of pity and sympathy for working under Jungkook, but now there are only snickers and playful winks as you trudge down the cubicles every morning. Everyday feels like the runway at a shitshow, and you are the headliner. 

Taehyung clapped you none-too-hard on the back when you showed up to work the next morning, congratulating you on the engagement. “Can’t believe you’re fuckin’ the big boss!” 

The rest of the staff poke their eyes out of their cubicles like Digletts, and you shush them, using your hand to make them sink down. 

Coffee is spilling down your shirt thanks to him, and you reach for tissues in his cubicle. “Can you not say it like that, please?” 

“Oh, come on. I heard from the supervisors Jungkook went on about how you seduced him late at night and took charge,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows approvingly, and you fight the urge to not throw up your coffee in his face. “How do you keep it so professional? Or do you save all that pent-up energy for after hours?” 

“You disgust me,” you grimace, stepping out of his cubicle and immediately regret wasting your five-minute break conversing with the typist.

Striding back into Jungkook’s office, he doesn’t hesitate to rattle off the next items on today’s agenda. He barely looks at you when you stride in, too focused on whatever corrections he’s slashing in red ink. 

“Did you get Taemin’s second draft?” 

“No, and I told him that if he can’t get me the draft by tonight he won’t get a publishing deadline and the number of copies published will be decreased by a third.” 

“And Taehyung’s author agreed to our stipulations?” 

“Of course, she’d be dead not to.”  you mutter, “she’s a nineteen year old Influencer, what would she know?” 

“Exactly, that’s why we milk it out as long as we can.” Jungkook throws the first draft in a large, intimidating pile, mixing in with all the others like a needle in a haystack. “Which is why it’s important we snag dinner with her this weekend, we can really—”

“What, this weekend?” your sense of equilibrium cracks, and you walk forward to put his hands on his desk. “I took this coming week off for Christmas. I’ve planned this for months.” 

“I know.”

“I can’t just cancel my flight! I saved up for that!”

“And?” Jungkook brushes off your fury like a piece of lint, “I’m Korean. Christmas is a fake holiday for me.” 

“You can’t just tell me I can’t go home to my family, it’s the fucking holidays!” 

“Why not, I’ve done it before. Remember on Valentine’s day when I told you the only date you have is a date with Kwon Boa’s publicist? Or on Secretaries Day when I argued that you don’t feel appreciated by society anyway and therefore why bother taking one extra day off? Or during Easter when your family screamed in my office on speakerphone that you should quit—”

“Okay,” no need to be reminded of how much you’ve wasted your life for this man, “but this is different. I’ve already bought plane tickets and this holiday is special. It’s a whole family reunion in the Poconos and we’ve reserved over five houses to fit all of us! I can’t just ditch!” 

“But I need you!” he replied just as hotly, in a tone that reminded you so many times of how tethered you are by this man. Two years have gone by, and the only thing that kept those strings together is the constant ache in getting your first novel published. “With all the marriage stuff and stupid extentions we had to make on these writers there’s no way we can get everything done before winter ends!” 

“You’ve done it before, why can’t you just ask Taehyung to assist—”

“Trouble in paradise?” 

A chill travels up your spine, and you and Jungkook exchange panicked eye contact. A tiny, pretty blonde lady struts in the room like it's hers, plopping a fruit basket atop Jungkook’s manuscripts. 

“If by paradise you mean our relationship, then no.” Jungkook’s the first to recover, meeting you at your side and stretching an arm around your waist. “I’d say work-wise things are getting a little rough, but nothing we can’t handle. We’re a team, after all.” 

“I just wanted to stop by as I was in the neighborhood,” the woman says, making herself comfortable in a leather seat reserved for guests. “Congratulations again on your engagement.” 

You tack on a smile, squeezing Jungkook’s arm a little too hard, but it’s enough to make the lady in front of you smile back. “What brings you here, Taeyeon?” 

Kim Taeyeon is Jungkook’s immigration liaison, AKA the person responsible for making sure you’re not breaking the law. She’s a pretty thing, with eyes sharp but a smile that’s soft and deceiving. 

“It’s just a shame you two have to rush a civil wedding,” Taeyeon sighs, looking at the window overlooking the city. 

“Ah, it takes some of the planning stress off my back, really.” you force a laugh, tugging Jungkook to sit on the couch opposite her. “At least one thing is done. The thought of planning a whole wedding with over two-hundred people is so stressful.” 

You weren’t really going to have a white wedding with Jungkook (however you may have entertained the thought, which is reflected in your Google search history) but you had to keep up the ruse that you were. A civil wedding in two weeks, then a quickie divorce a year later. 

“I know! My wedding was a real mess let me tell you, straight out of a movie!” Taeyeon is certainly the type of person to make you feel at ease, so at ease that it’s simple for you to melt your front. “But besides the point, are you two doing anything special for the holidays?” 

“Ah, well I bought a flight to meet my family in the Poconos,” you start, trying not to succumb to your nervous habit of wringing your fingers. You grab Jungkook’s hand as a reprieve. 

“And you’re not going?” Taeyeon’s gaze snaps, yes snaps, to Jungkook. 

You try to step in, realizing your flaw. “We’ve just been so swamped with work, all the immigration stuff and with these book delays Jungkook suggested he stay behind—” 

“But we’ve decided to prioritize our personal life and enjoy Christmas with our family,” Jungkook swoops in, threading his fingers between yours. He flashes Taeyeon a smile, and from the way his face lights up and his nose crinkles, you could’ve mistaken it to be genuine. “I’ve never experienced a big family Christmas, y’know. I’ve missed snowboarding too, I used to do it a lot in highschool.” 

“Oh, that’s just so sweet!” Taeyeon cooes, clasping her hands together. “Do send some pictures when you come back!” 

“Of course,” Jungkook stands up and attempts to leave Taeyeon out. You follow in tow, She obliges easily, mentioning something about just wanting to check in and she also has work to do. 

“Also,” Taeyeon’s head flickers to the people sitting outside Jungkook’s office. “You should manage those workers out there,” she looks at you, sympathetic. “Apparently, they didn’t peg you as the type of person to sleep their way to the top. And that’s just what I heard from walking down the hall once!” she laughs, tinkling brighter than a windchime, but you just tighten the grip on Jungkook’s palm. “Such a childish assumption. Things can be much more complicated.” 

She tips a “happy holidays” off her shoulder, and you both are smiling like the loving couple you are. As soon as the elevator doors close and Taeyeon is really gone, Jungkook moves to let go of your hand, but you hold him in your grasp. 

“She’s onto us,” you snap, tugging him closer to you so your co-workers wouldn’t read your lips. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” he bites back. He looks offendingly at the fruit basket adorning his desk. 

“What if we get caught, Jungkook?” you start to spiral, feeling your deepest fears crawl to the forefront of your brain. You’ve done extensive Google research on commiting fraud, and if you do get caught, Jungkook will never be able to come back to this country and you’ll have a fine of up to $250,000. Your boss doesn’t pay you nearly enough to get by with that kind of debt. “We’ll ruin this company, and our lives, and any hope of being published or credible.” 

“Hey, relax,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, the tone oddly comforting. He pulls you into his arms, and you barely have a chance to recover when he squeezes you extra tight around your waist. Jungkook only ever hugs you when doing PR, and even then it’s an awkward half-hug. Hell, he never hugged you on your birthday. “This is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna book my flight to the Poconos, bring some manuscripts so we can work remotely, and no one will ever know.” 

You sigh into his arms, nodding tiredly. It feels nice to be hugged like this. His arms are strong and warm, and you feel small and protected. It’s been a while since you’ve felt like that. Maybe Jungkook did have a heart under all that muscle. 

“I’m putting up a good show, aren’t I?” he says, and you feel your heart drop just a little. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

From your view facing the cubicles, you see at least half the employees comically bugged with  heart eyes at you, enamored by your fake relationship. 

“Do not stretch your long-ass legs on this plane, Jeon,” you nudge your smaller leg away from your section of leg room, “Jesus, we’re flying economy!” 

It scares you how little you fought against Jungkook joining you for the winter holiday. It is the logical decision after all, Taeyeon is on your trail about your sudden engagement and you both needed to keep up the ruse. That includes going on family vacations. Also, the fact that Jungkook works through Christmas because he doesn’t celebrate it does make you feel a little bad. You can’t remember the last time the man took a vacation. 

The man in question barely moves at your weak attempt, and stretches his leg even further across your seat. “Sorry, babe,” he says, fishing around his seat for the included blanket. 

“It’s fine, Kookie.” You reply sweetly, and decide to kick off your shoes to drape a leg over Jungkook’s thighs, “you’re like a portable footrest!” 

He looks absolutely insulted at your objectification, but smartly decides to choose his battles and lets you keep your position. Tucking himself in with a scratchy blanket he waves you off, “Whatever, just wake me up when we arrive.” 

“What, no.” you pull up your iPad, shoving the note entry in his face. “I know everything about you, and yet you know nothing about me. I made this easy on you and just wrote everything down. You just have to read it.” 

“Seriously? I’ve known you for over two years, I’m sure I know enough about you.” 

“Really, then how do I like my coffee?” 

“Uh… hot?” 

You give him a look and he knows. With a sigh he grabs the iPad from your hands. Within seconds he’s giving you another dirty look, as if he’s skimming a conspiracy novel. 

“You know all this random shit about me?” Jungkook asks, scrolling down as to what feels like your life story. 

“Yes, because unlike you, I listen when you talk.” 

“Fine. What’s my favorite type of weather?” 

“A warm and sunny day, which correlates to your favorite kind of date which is walking along the beach at sunset. Cliché much?” 

“Okay, rude. Who’s my favorite artist?” 

“You like a little bit of everything, but since seventh grade you’ve been pining for IU. In the office, you like to sing along to Lauv and Hozier.” 

“Favorite movie?” 

“The Marvel Series. But you really like 5 Centimeters Per Second, you like the romance.” 

“And how do you know my favorite anime movie is 5 Centimeters Per Second? I’m pretty sure I’ve never told you that.” 

“Jeon, when we were promoting Momo Hirai’s self-help book at Anime Expo you were gone for two and a half hours at 1:50 sharp.” your boss’ Adam’s apple bobs and he swallows thickly at your admonition. “And low and behold, you gave yourself thirty minutes’ time to line up early because when I checked the schedule Makoto Shinkai had a panel on ‘The Otaku’s Perspective on Romantic—”

“Alright alright, I get it.” Jungkook slumps in his seat, as comfy as it can get with your legs draped around him and a seat at the far end of the plane. You know he’s trying to hide a blush, and you feel proud for making him a little flustered. “You’re lucky I’m a fast reader.” 

The plane ride goes relatively fast, with Jungkook asking quick questions about your family and other random things. It’s like playing a game of 20 Questions, instead it’s the final boss battle with 200 questions and if he doesn’t get them all right, the penalty is deportation. 

When you land, you’re both stiff and glazed over. Once you exit the terminal, Jungkook ditches you for the bathroom and says he’ll meet you at the luggage pickup. You give yourself a few moments, gearing yourself up for the long week ahead of you. At the luggage pickup, you see a tall man watch the revolving conveyor belt with interest. Either that, or he’s zoning out. 

“Joonie!” you cry, nearly dropping your phone upon seeing your big brother. He’s dressed comfortably in a grey sweat ensemble, as if he rolled out of bed and came straight to the airport. 

A bright grin takes over his face, and he doesn’t hesitate to smush your body against his. Under his tall frame you sway, your toes barely swiping the ground. “You’re alive!” he cheers, pulling back and holding your shoulders to get a real look at you. “I can see you’ve gained a little weight, eyes are a little dark, but I’m glad the Devil let you go. I still can’t forgive him for making you skip out on Jin’s wedding.” 

You don’t appreciate the way that Namjoon picks and prods at your exhaustion, but you know he means well. While he does not know your boss by face and name, he had enough artilerary from the billions of phone calls to learn about the Devil and the havoc he’s wreaked upon your life.

When you don’t respond he gets the cue that you do not want to talk about work this week, and he smacks his lips together. “But nothing a little R&R can’t fix! The ski resort nearby has a really nice outdoor jacuzzi and we could set an appointment for facials if you’d like. Or we could do absolutely nothing and turn into baked potatoes and watch movies until our eyes burn up.” 

“Both would be great,” you smile softly, catching two familiar suitcases make their rounds on your flight’s conveyor belt. You grab your pink luggage with one hand, and Jungkook’s black chrome one with your other. 

“So, where’s the new beau?” Namjoon rocks back and forth on his heels, hoping to get a glimpse of the mystery boy you mentioned you’d be bringing as of two days ago. 

“He really had to go to the bathroom,” you squint your eyes to make out the newcomers exiting the dropoff area. “Oh, there he is. Kook!” 

Like a goddamn model, he struts in your field of vision like nobody’s business. Unlike you who stayed in your apartment all day before leaving, Jungkook decided to spend a few hours at Big Hit in the morning to tie up most of the loose ends before your trip. He’s talking to what you assume to be is a client, noting the way his brow furrows as he clutches his phone with a tight hold. He’s changed out of his tie and leather oxfords, but he’s dressed crisply in a dark button up and blazer ensemble, still wholly overdressed for a family reunion. 

Namjoon starts behind you, “He looks...” 

“Handsome?” you goad, elbowing him, “Charismatic? Undeniable presence?” 

“Hard.” 

You don’t know what to make of that adjective, and you subtly shrink further in your jacket as you mull over the implications of his word choice. 

Jungkook steps up to the two of you, ending his call. His eyes float between you and your brother, and he manages to put two and two together. “Hey man,” Jungkook gives a practiced smile, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, I’ve heard lots of things about you.” 

“Good things, I hope.” Namjoon chuckles, returning the handshake. “I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, though. Can’t wait to get to know you this week.” 

“Looking forward to it,” Jungkook takes his luggage and Namjoon grabs yours, leading you two out to his minivan. While Namjoon is preoccupied with getting the car started, Jungkook looks at you as if he’s already regretting making the trip down. “This girl has two braincells to her name. I just got off the phone with Sorn’s publicist.” 

“What trouble can an influencer do?” you reply in disbelief. 

“Exactly, influencing is the trouble,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she did some mukbang and now she’s in the hospital for food poisoning.” 

“Ah, don’t get too worked up,” you help him lug your suitcases in the trunk. You spot Namjoon subtly eyeing you two from the rear mirror. Pressing a thumb between his brows, you make work to melt away the 11-shaped stress lines on his forehead. “Let’s just send her a Lush gift basket and she’ll be fine.” 

You ignore the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you longer than needed, running over to your seat at shotgun. 

The inside of his car smells like bergamot and lemon, and the sweet, vulnerable side of you wants to cry over how much you’ve missed your brother’s scent. It’s been way too long. 

Once you’re all safely in the car and driving Namjoon says, “So, are you going to hide the engagement ring or give the family a collective heart attack?” 

You tense, hands automatically floating to the teardrop diamond weighing heavily on your ring finger. The story that you two contrived about your relationship isn’t too complicated, but complex enough that it seems convincing. Instead of being your boss, Jungkook is your Literary Agent who gives you referrals to new and upcoming authors. You working closely together and bonding over the stresses of the publishing world, have kept a secret relationship under wraps for over a year to avoid any unprofessionalism or favoritism. 

“I was thinking about that the whole ride, actually,” you twirl the metal back and forth, watching it gleam in the light. “Mom and dad know, but I don’t wanna lie to the rest of my family. They’ll freak out because it’s the first time they’re meeting Kook and we’re already engaged. It’s just a location thing, y’know. You guys don’t live in the city so we’ve never had a chance to really talk it out.” 

Namjoon snorts, “Or, because your boss never gives you a break.” 

If Jungkook finds any offense, he doesn’t show it. Putting what should be a comforting hand on your shoulder, he says from the back seat, “I already told you babe, do what makes you comfortable. But I don’t want to lie to your parents early on, you don’t wanna make the situation any more complicated.” 

In other words, you better tell them about our engagement because Taeyeon could be hiding in the bushes waiting to catch us. 

“Smart man,” Namjoon says shortly, but you can’t tell whether it’s a compliment or not. 

“Yeah,” you exhale, turning to smile stiffly at Jungkook, “no use hiding the inevitable, right?” 

The next couple hours are overwhelming. There’s a party right when you walk in your winter villa, your parents throwing you a reunion party (not for your family, but for you specifically because you’ve been MIA since Big Hit) with the house filled to the brim with family members. Within seconds your favorite cousin checks out the rock on your finger and screams that you’re engaged. 

Everyone must be so high off the fact that you’ve made it to a family event that they’re elated you have a life outside of work. Jungkook is treated like a prince, charming the hell out of all your aunties and baby cousins. 

“Oh, pumpkin!” your auntie squeals, linking arms with you while you’re trying to eat your dinner, “I just hugged your fiancé, and he has abs! Lucky you!” 

“Auntie,” you hiss playfully, “you hugged him that tight?” 

“He’s part of the family, isn’t he?” 

“Right,” you force a smile, downing your glass of champagne. The bubbles burn your throat pleasantly. 

“Babe, can you come here for a second?” Jungkook manages to swim his way through the throng in the living room, holding out a hand for you, “your mom said that our room is ready, care to lead the way?” 

His smile, as pretty as you can care to admit, renders your aunt speechless, and she lets him whisk you away to a long hallway that leads to a set of bedrooms. Jungkook lets go of your hand as soon as you're alone, letting his palm run along the pictures that decorate your hallway. 

He stops at a picture of you and Namjoon as kids, faces tanned and lips cherry red from your twin popsicles melting on your hands. “Wow,” Jungkook pretends to be alarmed, “I didn’t know you used to be cute, what happened?” 

“Shut up,” you smack his hand away, walking ahead of him. 

“I thought you guys reserved a bunch of houses, why does the furniture look worn and there’s pictures of you everywhere?” 

“Our extended family has reserved houses, but this is actually my family’s vacation home. I used to go here every winter and summer break,” you reach a bedroom in the corner of the hall, smiling at your wooden name tag hanging on the front, “this is my old room.” 

It certainly doesn’t have that youthful charm it once had, but there are still bits of your childhood scattering the room. There’s ticket stubs and photobooth strips tacked to a corkboard near your desk. Books that you would reread cover to cover are organized proudly on your shelf, worn for wear. 

Jungkook groans in relief, plopping his body down on your freshly made bed. “Your family’s really clingy.” he sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

You turn to give him a snappy answer, but it dies in your throat when you see what he’s laying on. The familiar family quilt sinks under Jungkook’s weight, mocking you. You shriek, throwing your arms over to lug his body to the other side of the bed. Bundling up the quilt in your arms, you glare at a very appalled Jungkook. 

“The hell is wrong with you, woman!” he cries, not loud enough to escape the room, but enough to have your body vibrate in annoyance. 

“Jeon, they put the fucking baby blanket in my room,” you mutter more to yourself than him, folding it under your arms. 

The blanket is comfy in your grasp and you’re sure it’s clean, but the fact that you weren’t actually married and in love made its appearance a whole lot worse. 

“So?” his eyes are wide in confusion, “my mom still has my baby blanket too, I’m not gonna shoot anyone because of it.” 

“It’s not my baby blanket,” you admonish, “it’s the baby maker blanket. A weird family tradition when someone gets engaged.”

“Which means?” 

“They’re expecting us to fuck and have children.” 

The thought of procreating and starting a family with you must’ve caused all the champagne to return to his throat, and he looks a little pale. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” he lies back down on your mattress, and you leave him be so you can chuck the blanket back in your parents’ room. 

You’re barely out the door when a young man is waiting out in the hallway for you, poised to knock. “Hey, baby girl.” they throw you an easy lopsided grin, opening their arms to you. 

In your haste, you slam your bedroom door a little too loudly. “Yoongi!” You let yourself sink into his waiting arms, reveling in the familiar embrace you missed so much. Yoongi is Namjoon’s best friend and work buddy, not to mention the man you’ve had a crush on since you were able to walk. While you can safely say at this moment there is nothing serious going on, a small part of you always wishes there could be. 

His voice husks in your ear, “Why are we hugging in between the baby blanket?” 

“Oh!” you brush past him, opening the door to your parents’ room and flinging the offending item as far into their room as possible. “Sorry, Jungkook and I were a little freaked out when we saw it. We’re definitely not thinking about children right now.” 

“Jungkook,” he hums, and your smile falters just a tad when you see the way Yoongi tips his head down in thought, “It was quite the news. Congrats though.” 

You want to say what you’re supposed to say, that yes, you should be happy. But the selfish part of you does not want this exchange between you and Yoongi to be happening. When you get your quickie divorce in a year, the small, hopeful part of you hopes you and Yoongi could be something. 

Before you have a chance to fabricate a response, strong hands encircle your waist, and you feel Jungkook’s chin digging into your shoulder. 

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook’s voice rumbles, “we really appreciate it.” 

Yoongi gives a nod, muttering something about catching up later before he walks back to the party. 

It’s then that Jungkook’s weight feels impossibly heavy on your shoulders. “You know, you’ve been doing a really shitty job of being my wife-to-be ever since we landed,” Jungkook whispers, feather soft lips dusting across the shell of your ear. It’s an act so intimate you can imagine your family passing down the hallway could be mistaking you two for speaking unthinkable acts. A toddler cousin spots you two and giggles, babbling something to your uncle about how you’re hugging. “You did so well when we were with Taeyeon and Big Hit.” 

“It’s not the same when I’m lying to my family,” you turn to face him, equally simmering. “These are people that actually love and care for me, unlike you.” 

“At least I care about what’s most important,” he grits back, “our jobs, our futures. Is that not enough for you to keep it in your pants?” 

“Excuse me? You don’t even know him!” 

“I don’t have to know him because I’m holding you right now and you’re practically sweating through your cardigan.” he grimaces, digging his chin further into your collarbone, literally trying to get under your skin. “Your face looks like a cherry tomato.” 

You turn your head to bite back, your noses touching. The staring contest seems to last for days. Unlike Jungkook who doesn't know how to register basic human emotion, you still have hopes for a life after this. Before you have a chance to answer, your favorite cousin enters the hallway, oblivious to your concerns. Jimin’s red all over, passing you two flutes of blush champagne. “Hurry up, we’re making speeches!” 

Champagne is overflowing like Niagara, and you and Jungkook are the reason for it as you’re thrusted into the living room. Your weird uncle is in the middle of a long-winded speech about his fishing business and how dreams are made from ‘bait and a dream’. You make eye contact with him, and he gestures wildly to you and Jungkook. 

The crowd proceeds to go wild, echoes of speech! Speech! Reverberating throughout your living room. You and Jungkook share uneasy smiles, unsure of where to go with this show. 

Deciding it’s your family by blood, you start first. “Honestly, when I moved to New York I wasn’t expecting to feel so lonely,” you clutch your flute with both hands, swirling your drink absentmindedly. You then turn to Jungkook, giving him a tender smile which he returns back just as fondly. “Until I met Jungkook. I’m really happy that I get to share this week with the people I love the most, so let's drink to family!” 

Jungkook lifts his glass, “Thank you for the warm welcome, I can’t wait to spend time with all of you. This is my first Christmas with a large, loving family. Cheers to that!” 

The room erupts in cheers, allowing themselves to clink glasses and chase down their respective drinks. Even the little ones crowding the kiddie table in the back are enjoying their apple juice while making silly faces at the new couple. 

Jungkook weaves his arm between yours, and you get the signal to do a couples’ drink. He eyes you with mischief, as if to say we did it. After you two take your drink, Jimin’s the first to drunkenly yell, “Ohmygod just kiss already!” 

“Kiss kiss kiss!” 

“This is going on my story so make it good!” 

“Kiss him before I do!” 

“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing your forehead on Jungkook’s chest. Your family really is something else. 

As if the chants can’t get any louder, it’s hard to focus on anything but Jungkook’s presence. Jungkook lifts your chin up, murmuring, “Let’s give the people what they want.” and he presses his lips to yours. 

It’s awkward at first. Why wouldn’t it be, you’re making out with your boss, in front of your family, pretending to be engaged. But Jungkook doesn’t let up, parting your lips slightly to deepen the kiss. As much as you want to make up how terrible and disgusting kissing Jungkook is, it really isn’t. His lips are soft and he tastes like the peach champagne, and his grip on your waist is strong and warm. 

He leaves you breathless when you pull away, a smirk on his lips for a brief moment before he turns shyly to your family who are probably foaming at the mouth now. 

Maybe it’s the champagne coursing through your veins, but why does it suddenly feel so hot in the middle of winter? 

The first day back starts off wholly uneventful, with Jungkook working on some manuscripts and you preparing dinner with Jimin. Most of your family is on the resort hitting the slopes, so you’re quite thankful for the reprieve since the party was so overwhelming. The blonde is all smiles as he bumps the oven closed with his leg, letting your lasagna bake to perfection. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Jimin rests his head on your shoulder, “it’s definitely not the same when we’re adults. Frankly, it sucks balls.” 

“Big balls,” you agree, gnawing on a leftover baguette from last night. 

“Speaking of big balls,” Jimin wiggles his brows as you attempt to move farther from him.

“Please don’t say it.” 

“C’mon! Just tell me if the sex is good!” 

“No!” you cry, flicking your crumbs at him. 

“I will open this oven,” his hands are already on the handle, “and your dish will undercook.” 

“Don’t you dare!” he opens the oven a tad, and you slam your hand down. “Fine! The sex is fantastic, happy?” 

“Ewh, no!” The storm door swings open, revealing Namjoon, Yoongi, and Lisa, Namjoon’s lady friend. “I didn’t need to hear that, thanks.” 

Your face looks absolutely pained as you watch the two older men walk in. They were the last people you’d ever want to share about your sex life too, even if it is fake. You can only bear to look properly at Lisa as they kick off their boots and shake the snow off their heads. Lisa pokes her tongue in her cheek, looking at you with a wild look in her eyes. “I’ve heard so much about your current drama. Can’t wait to hear the 411 from you, though.” 

Yoongi looks unfazed, then again you never really know what’s going on in his head. “You guys wanna go to a movie tonight?” Yoongi asks, grabbing a slice of the baguette and dipping it in a dish of olive oil. “I think the one that’s showing is based on a book your company published.”

“Is it ‘Rotten Love’?” 

“That’s the one.” 

Pushing yourself off the counter, you nod eagerly. “I’ll go tell Jungkook to get ready. We can eat dinner real quick and then go right after,” you grab a bottle of water from the fridge, “Joonie, set up the table please.” 

Jungkook doesn’t notice you walk in, and you can hear the faint sound of Muse blasting from his Airpods. He’s on your floor, doing pushups while reading a transcript under him. This time he’s using your iPad, every few seconds taking a thumb to scroll down. Sweating through his shirt, you can see the beads running along his silver reading glasses. It’s completely contradictory, your muscle bunny of a boss getting in his reps while psychoanalyzing a potential novel, but somehow it works with him. 

“Maniac,” you mutter, bending down to place the cool water bottle on his cheek. He stops abruptly, like you’ve pressed the pause button on his seemingly robotic arms. Seriously, you can’t fathom how he manages to do both. You swipe the iPad under his body in place of a white towel, which he accepts gratefully. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to snap him out of it, sometimes you’d catch him at the company gym nearing 10PM, reading on the treadmill. 

“What time is it?” he asks, fluting the water bottle down his throat. 

Ignoring the way his neck glistens in sweat, you say, “It’s almost seven. C’mon, we’re gonna eat dinner and watch a movie. You’ve cooped yourself up in this room all day, time to interact with the world.” 

“What movie?” 

“The book we published in 2018, ‘Rotten Love’? They made it into a movie,” and you can’t help the wry grin that takes over your face when you say your next words, “guess who directed it.” 

He sighs, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. The normally styled strands fall limply at his forehead. “I don’t remember, I shifted over that project to PR. Any director’s fine, but please please please don’t let it be—”

“Jung Hoseok!”

“Son of a bitch, we gotta go.” And it’s the first time in a while you see a genuine smile graze his features, one not laced with you and your marriage. It’s an old pastime for you both to get picky over Jung’s work. “I swear, he better not put his scenes all over the place like last time, I got whiplash.” 

After a quick dinner you all pile into Namjoon’s minivan, making your way to the theatre. The drive is fast, and before you know it you’re waiting in line to get inside. It seems that the PR between the film studio and Big Hit did a good job assisting, because there’s a sizable line despite being half an hour early. 

“So honey,” Lisa leans into you, squishing you further into Jungkook’s shoulder. “Did you like, help out with the publishing of this novel? To be honest I don’t even know what your job is,” Lisa admits with a shrug, “you’re not a glorified coffee girl, are you?” 

“No,” her mixed enthusiasm never fails to stump you, “Ah, but I really didn’t do much in the production of ‘Rotten Love’,” you reply easily, relaxing into Jungkook as he moves to drape an arm around your shoulder. “I just told my boss to sign some documents n’stuff. It’s really nothing—”

“Babe, are you kidding? You ran the whole freakin’ project!” and you’re in shock, because for the first time in the history of ever, Jeon Jungkook is paying you a real compliment. “It was her first assignment when she got hired as the big boss’ assistant. A lot of people in the office doubted her,” he squeezes your shoulder, “but not for one second did I doubt her, you could see how hard she worked to make it perfect. I heard the boss was really impressed, too.” 

You remember that period of time. Jungkook made you dive headfirst into the publishing for ‘Rotten Love’, letting you sink or swim in his decision for keeping you employed. After a full month of meetings, negotiations, and debating whether you should have caffeine IV’ed in your body to save time on eating, you got Jungkook’s evaluation. You remember the stoicism in Jungkook’s frame as he surmised your work, throwing you a flippant “it’s decent” before sending you off to do more work. 

Relief flooded your system after those two simple words, because that meant you had a chance and you could keep your job. But this? If what he’s saying is true, you’re on Cloud 9. 

“Awh, thanks Kook.” you squeeze his arm, letting your fingers trail down to lace your fingers with his. 

Lisa’s face is all scrunched, and she doesn’t hesitate to stretch over you to smush Jungkook’s cheek between her two fingers. Her blue nails dig into his soft skin. “I like him, honey. Keep him, he’s so cute.” 

She leaves you alone after that, skipping over to bother Namjoon about buying an extra bucket of popcorn. 

“At first I was nervous having you near my family for a week,” you say brightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand, “but I kinda like seeing you try so hard to not rip other people’s heads off.” 

He puffs out his cheeks in an attempt to soothe the stinging. “Could be worse, I could be engaged to Karen.” 

With that you laugh, loud enough to turn heads and have Jimin and Lisa send you adoring looks. Jungkook sends you a nervous smile, the one that he’d always send you during team meetings when he was unsure of how to respond to something. Instead of giving him a smart answer, you get on your tiptoes to pat his reddened cheek. “But she’s right, you are kinda cute when you wanna be.” 

Instead of replying, he squeezes your hand tighter to lead you inside. 

Everything is smooth sailing after that. You, Jimin and Yoongi are saving the seats while Jungkook, Lisa and Namjoon are getting the refreshments. Jimin is prattling on about a new job interview and you’re listening attentively, while Yoongi shoots off advice every time Jimin says he’s nervous. 

Yoongi looks past Jimin to give you that gummy smile that always made your chest ache. “Chim, remember when she applied to work at Jamba Juice?” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin giggles, clutching your arm. “When you had to do a trial run in front of the manager? You forgot to put the lid on the blender and you sprayed the staff with green juice?” 

“The stains took forever to get out,” you pouted. “And I didn’t appreciate the snaps you saved of me. I got nervous because you were recording me!” 

“Am I hearing some juicy details about your childhood?” Jungkook appears, passing a huge tub of buttery popcorn to Yoongi. 

“Emphasis on juice,” Yoongi says tartly, popping a handful of kernels in his mouth. 

“Yes, do you wanna see a picture of your fiancé covered in green juice? She wore a low-cut shirt that day so it got deep, man.” Jimin says, using his hands to gesture obscenely to his own chest. 

You’re mortified, and you push down Jimin’s phone and cover whatever receipts he has on you. “Jimin, I’d like to stay engaged, if you don’t mind?” 

Your not-so-favorite cousin cackles in response, telling Jungkook that they’ll talk later. 

“Here,” Jungkook cooly hands you a King-Sized KitKat. 

“Awh,” you marvel, immediately opening the wrapper, “you actually read my notes and found out what my favorite candy was?” 

He scoffs, dark bangs blowing up. “Who doesn’t like KitKats?” but you’re giving him the look, and he sighs, “C’mon babe, just gimmie a break.” 

“Ha-ha,” but you break off a piece anyway, lifting it to Jungkook’s lips. It’s then that the theatre starts to dim, and the telltale signs of the movie begin. “Ready to rip Jung Hoseok to shreds?” 

“Always.” 

Barely fifteen minutes pass and Jungkook is spreading his legs. You’re about to kick him before he leans in to whisper, “They made Renee too dull,” he sighs in disappointment, as if he sincerely had high hopes they’d bring the novel to justice. “I mean, I get it, in the novel she’s supposed to be a plain Jane. But she isn’t grey.” 

“Right?” you lean into Jungkook, throwing your legs over his thighs like you’re back at the airport. This isn’t out of intimacy, you think to yourself, you just need to be close enough to Jungkook so you don’t disturb the other patrons with your talking. “She’s either a bad actress or they messed up her character. I really got upset when I read this part, but it’s kinda bland on the screen.” 

As much as you love Jimin, you know he’s not going to get your over-criticality over the media. Yoongi and Namjoon are on the other end of the row, but they wouldn’t be too pleased having you gab over the movie because you’re too much of an aficionado. Jungkook is the only one who can tête-à-tête, or in this case, Kit-a-Kat with you. 

You sigh into his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent. “Let’s pray Jung didn’t completely butcher the chapter where Kenzo reflects on his penniless journey.” 

“I’ll leave the theatre right then and there if that happens, care to join me?” 

“Already out the door, bossman.” 

Jungkook looks away from the screen briefly, reaching forward to take an obnoxiously big bite of the KitKat in your hand. You stifle a giggle, and before you can soak up his cheeky grin he’s already looking back at the movie. 

You wonder what Jungkook is like outside of work, if he has that side to him. A little part of you wishes that this playfulness he’s exuding is real. Not to your fake marriage, but a playfulness he can execute to a person that he really likes. Two days out of the office and you’re starting to see that Jungkook has the capabilities to enjoy life, however simple it may be. 

The movie is finished in a blur, and you and Jungkook are still bickering over the intricacies of the film compared to the novel. The night air is cold and burns your cheeks, reminding you exactly how late you’ve been out.

“Well, I thought the romance was so boring!” Lisa blurted, wanting an in. Her lime green ski jacket glares in your vision, and you move away from her immediately. “No one cheated on each other, there was no drama, or evil best friend!” 

“Whoa there,” and you see the little fire in Jungkook’s eyes, one you’ve learned early on to stay away from when you spent hours in his office debating over manuscripts and plotlines. He stares down at Lisa, really stares down. “You think every romance needs some sort of internalized conflict for it to be good? Why can’t they just grow and learn from the external conflict together? It’s literally useless for them to break up over and over just—”

And that’s your cue to walk ahead of them, because while you did agree with Jungkook, you’ve heard this debate one too many times. Ever the closet-romantic at heart. You hope Lisa doesn’t lose her patience and punch him out. 

“Hey,” you feel a hand pat your hair, and you look up at Yoongi. He looks absolutely fluffy in his long puffy jacket, and he matches your steps with his. “Do I look ugly tonight, or something? I feel like we barely exchanged two sentences with each other.” 

“What, never!” you chastise, “you always look good, Yoongi. And we have the whole week to catch up, remember?”

“Really, then why don’t we go out in two days to pick out a tree for your house? Joon and I are planning on going.” 

“I would love to go pick a tree!” you exclaim, “the last time we got a tree together was when your brother had to lift.” 

“Great,” and he pats your head again, but this time his hand lingers to finger the ringlets of your hair. “It’ll be just like old times, baby girl. I’ll pick you up at 9.” 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jungkook’s argument ended minutes ago and he’s mulling over a new type of internal conflict. 

“Owie, ow, ow—fuck you! Ow!” 

“Well if you just hold still,” Jungkook grimaces, taking his turns with both hands to simultaneously wipe the injury with a cloth and then pressing the affected area with an ice bag. 

“Buh ih hurths!” your voice is muffled by the cloth, stained red with freshly bloomed blood. 

The ski lodge started off great. You enjoyed a fabulous beligan waffle breakfast courtesy of Jimin’s parents, and then made the trek to the slopes. You’ve been here dozens of times, so you didn’t feel an inclination to gravitate to any of the fancy schmancy sports. You were fine playing shuffleboard inside, but your inner youth complained that it’s the holidays and you should be getting out more.

Jimin and Jungkook (who claimed he hasn't snowboarded since he was 16 yet he’s doing tricks like a goddamn Olympian) were shredding on the slopes while Namjoon and Lisa were skiing on a smaller hill. You and Yoongi watched safely from the lift, riding it like a kiddie attraction. You must’ve taken the lift at least ten times, complaining about how you’re both too lazy to function and you could really use a hot chocolate and a fireplace. 

After the fifteenth time on the lift, legs numb, you stumble over with heavy boots to where Lisa and Namjoon were waiting for Jimin and Jungkook. They wanted to walk around more and see if they could try a more difficult slope. 

While you were waiting, you had to admit that Jungkook did kind of cool all decked out in his gear. A competitive, playful smile was easily reflected in his gaze despite his helmet and goggles. 

That slight admiration is knocked right off your feet when Jungkook speeds by way too close for comfort and you’re in his path. Jimin had already slowed next to your friends and family, looking at you in anticipated horror.

It’s far too late, and despite the fact that Jungkook manages to pull your body to his while you wipe out, your face crashes into his helmet and you taste metal. 

Mildly disoriented from the impact, Jungkook’s muffled string of curses nurse you back to a decent consciousness as he tries to carry you to the lodge.

“Holy shit, I got that on camera!” Jimin cries, gesturing to the Go-Pro nestled in his helmet. 

So now you’re in pain and it’s all Jungkook’s fault. Your bottom lip is split, and the burn on your face won’t go away. 

You watch as Jungkook dotes on you, his bangs pushed up everywhere due to his grey goggles haphazardly being propped upon his forehead. His pink tongue sticks out as he concentrates on not getting blood on your sweater. It’s just you and him that are stuck around in the lodge after you got pummeled, standing by the fire while everyone else continues on with the fun. 

“Why were you over there anyway, in the middle of the slope?” he scolds. 

“It was the slow down zone, Jeon. You were the only one not slowing down, you speed demon.” 

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, pressing a little too hard with the ice and you wince. He lets up and presses the cloth to your lips to soak up the moisture.

“Did you say something?” 

“I said, I’m sorry.” 

You sigh dramatically, “I wish I had a camera to save that shitty excuse of an apology.” 

“Speaking of cameras,” he shucks his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Jimin uploaded the video.” 

That man, you don’t know where he has the means to quickly upload and edit things, but if it’s for the ‘Gram, it’s worth it to Jimin. You open Instagram and immediately click on @chimmyboi’s story, immediately wincing as the first few seconds reveal the brunt of the impact. He should really put a disclaimer before uploading content. 

The tumble between you and Jungkook doesn’t look so bad, but it’s when you get up does it look gnarly. Your chin is dribbling in red liquid, and Jungkook’s throwing off his helmet and goggles in a panic. 

He makes a half-assed snowball where you’re lying on the ground, pressing it against your mouth. With his other hand he pulls you into a sitting position, not caring that you’re staining his clothes as he hauls you on his body. 

“Ohmygod,” you splutter, trying not to move your lips, “I look like I got decked with a hockey puck.” 

“It wasn’t that bad, don’t be a baby.” Jungkook sees the piecing glare you give him, and he sighs. “Okay, it looked pretty bad. I was a little worried back there, but now the bleeding pretty much stopped and holy shit—stop smiling! You’re making it open up further!” 

“You were worried?” 

“Shut up.” 

The ice bag is watery and not doing much anymore, but Jungkook still insists to cool your face down. You lift a hand to his cold ones, attempting to take the bag and cloth from his grasp. 

“You should go board with Jimin and the rest of them. I can take care of this.” 

“It’s fine,” he reasons, reaching for the ice bag but you hold on tighter. 

“C’mon, I know the only thing you were looking forward to this entire trip was going snowboarding. I’m a big girl, I can be alone for an hour or two.” 

Jungkook locks his jaw, gnawing at his cheek as he mulls on his decision. “Wouldn’t I look like a bad partner if I leave you?”

“Nah, this has happened before. Almost always someone gets injured on the trip. Last time something like this happened I was eight and I got five stitches on my leg. This is nothing. You’re fine.” 

“But still.” 

“Fine, you wanna make it up to me?” 

You scan the room for any ideas, and it settles on a trio of girls huddled by the register of the built-in café. They’re pretty snow bunnies, decked out in sweater dresses and fur lined boots. They remind you a little of The Powerpuff Girls, all in pastels and attached to the hip. Their gaze has taken hostage in Jungkook’s frame, blatantly ignoring the fact that majority of his attention is directed towards you. You wonder why you haven’t noticed them sooner, because now the staring is getting borderline discomforting. 

Slipping off his goggles with your free hand, you gesture subtly to the girls. “They think you’re hot. Go flirt with them a little and get me a free drink, I’m sure they’ll pay for you.” 

He doesn’t understand the correlation, “Why would I do that?” 

You shrug, separating the strands of hair that stick to his forehead. “Lisa and Namjoon do it all the time when they go clubbing. They compete and pretend they’re single for like two hours, and then they keep a tally of how many people offer to buy them a drink.” 

“That is completely different, but I’m open to trying it when we get back to the city.” he acknowledged briefly, getting up from his crouching position. “I got a better idea.” 

Puzzled, you watch him saunter over to the register. Like bees to the honey, the girls follow Jungkook with their eyes, watching him exaggeratedly mull over the menu. 

He spares the slightest of head inclinations to the drooling trio, “Hello ladies.” The smile is not flirtatious, but kind. 

You suppress a giggle, burying your chin in your scarf as you watch the whole interaction. You don’t even know why you asked Jungkook if he would flirt with those girls, as he kept most of his dates private over the years. You picture a college-aged Jungkook getting his daily breakfast on his way to class, ignoring the way his presence attracts heads. 

The barista hands Jungkook a tray filled with a plastic cup of ice, and a cup filled with something hot, and a chocolate croissant. He grabs a straw from a tray, stabbing it in the hot drink’s lid. 

“Excuse me,” one of the girls coquettishly puts her hands behind her back, puffing her chest out as she leans over Jungkook’s order. “The regular croissants actually taste better in my opinion.” 

“Well my wife’s had a hard day, so I think she deserves something sweet.” 

He doesn’t even turn around as he makes a beeline to where you’re seated on a loveseat, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table. 

“Your better idea was making them jealous?” you ask, unsure of his intentions. 

He shrugs, “College-Jungkook always wanted to show off his girlfriend like that, so indulge me for a second, alright?”

Rolling your eyes you reply, “My life is about indulging you. Don’t forget the trips I’ve made to the grocery store when your personal fridge was out of banana—”

“I thought I said we don’t speak of those hard times,” he cuts you off, “ever.”  

You stop him from filling up your ice bag with the ice he brought. “C’mon Jeon, you’re burning daylight out there. I got this. You’ve stalled enough, go have fun in the snow with Jimin, you adrenaline junkie.” 

He scrunches his nose, but relents when you throw him his jacket and goggles. Before he pulls on his gloves, he cups your face with both hands to pull you in a kiss. His hands are cold from the ice, gluing you in place in fear of him kissing you too hard. But it’s barely that, a brushing of lips so tender as he takes extra care with your open lip. 

“Is this also a self-indulgent request?” you pucker, “who knew there was a hormonal teenager under that editor-in-chief’s body.” 

His eyes flicker to the audience in the back, and you don’t need to look behind you to note that they’re glaring daggers in your head. It’s like you’re straight out of a rom-com. 

“You’re leaving me to the bunnies,” you say teasingly. 

“Then hurry up and get better so you can join us,” he taunts, “or else you can’t help me bury Jimin in the snow.” 

It’s a tempting offer that makes you down your drink so you can enjoy the rest of your day. 

Light seeps through your windows, rays kissing your eyelashes and willing them to open. You groan, hand splaying out to wake up Jungkook. When you find his space empty and cool, you sit up and search for your fake-fiancé. 

He’s on the floor, smack in the middle of his morning workout. Your iPad is under his body, and somehow he’s managed to find a setting where the document scrolls for him automatically. He’s not wearing his Airpods, so you rasp, “Jeon, you’re crazy. I get the morning workout, but you don’t have to look over any more transcripts. I think you’ve read enough for this week.” 

“It helps me ignore the burn,” he says shortly, and you see the ripples of his back flex with every push-up. “And I wouldn’t have to do so much reading if my assistant would just do her job.” 

“I already told you, I’m not working during my vacation.” you throw off the sheets, padding to your closet. “I’m going to pick the tree today. You should go to the mall with my mom and Jimin to pick out some new ornaments.” 

“What?” he gets up, and you ignore the perfect view of tight muscles decorating his abs. Exactly how long was he awake for to have sweat clinging to his shirt? You’re going to short-circuit and it’s barely 8:30. “But I wanna go help pick out the tree.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Joon and Yoongi got it.” 

“Yoongi, really? You think he can carry a tree?” 

“This isn’t a pissing contest, Jeon.” you settle on a burgundy Patagonia jacket and grey leggings. “Besides, Yoongi and I are just friends.”

“You sure about that, baby girl?” 

You whip around to poke at his chest, and you ignore how smug he looks. “Do not test me, Jeon. Like you said, I’m with you every step of the way in this marriage. I’m not going to jeopardize that over some childhood crush.” 

“Wow, your life is really turning into a Wattpad entry,” he admonishes, “fake-fiancé still pining over his older brother’s best friend, really high-qual stuff.” 

“I’m serious.” you grit, “I took a week off so I can get away from you and that was ruined, so I would like a little bit of space today.” 

And that gets Jungkook to back away. His face deflates a little, and you feel a little guilty for making him upset, but you stab that thought down and convince yourself that he deserves it. It’s not like he cares about you, he just wants to show off to the boys.

“Fine,” he turns around to put on a fresh shirt, and you almost notice the pout marrying his face. “You could’ve just told me you wanted space. I’m getting kind of tired of you too, you know.” 

He flops on the bed and you huff in reply, quickly throwing on your attire inside your closet while he watches a YouTube video. You check your phone, and at 8:59 a knock is at your door. Jungkook doesn’t bother to get up to answer, and you open the door to see a sleepy Yoongi with a paper cup in his hand. 

“An English breakfast with two sugars and a dash of milk, baby girl.” 

You mask your wince at the pet name. It hadn’t bothered you when you were young, but its starting to feel coddling now that Jungkook is making you hyper-aware of the attention. “Perfect,” you faux-beam, the hot beverage warm your fingers. 

“I’ll just warm up the car and—”

“Babeeeeee,”  the deepest, sexiest voice echoes from your bed and out in the hallway. He sounds absolutely tempting, and needy. You freeze at the way your boss can so easily pretend he’s exhausted and wanting you, “come back to bedddddd. I’m not done with you yet.” 

Yoongi’s ears are red, “Aaand, I’ll let you finish whatever business you have.” 

The older man bolts out of there, and you snap your head back to look at an innocent Jungkook. He tilts his head at your bout of anger. 

“You know, I have half a mind to fling this tea down your shirt.” 

“What?” he looks at you like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “He can’t be the only one who can call you baby.” 

Honestly, you didn’t mean to lash out on Jungkook like that. You did need to put up a face as you were each other's significant others, but it doesn’t mean you have to be together all the time. To top it all off you’ve been feeling weird as of late, and you can only attribute these terrible feelings to a certain brunet who’s been sleeping in your bed. 

But you pin these feelings for another time, because you need to enjoy what little quality time you have with your brother. 

“Hey, whaddya think of this one?” It's just you and Namjoon picking the tree, and Yoongi’s sitting in the cabin keeping warm. He said to call him once you’ve decided, since it is your house. 

“Hm, it’s fine.” you shrug, inhaling the pine. “Maybe a little too tall.” 

Namjoon nods, and you follow him to the next row of greenery. He’s been pensive this whole time, and you have a feeling he’s hiding something. Surrounded by pine and the fresh winter air he says, “Hey, I just wanna say sorry.” 

“Why, did you like that tree over there? I don’t mind it, we can go back!” 

“What, no? I’m sorry for being weird around Jungkook.” 

“Huh?” sure, you noticed the weird language and terseness he gave Jungkook initially, but you chalked it out as big brother issues. 

You two continue to walk around the forest aimlessly, not really tree hunting. 

“I was just upset that the engagement was so sudden,” Namjoon starts, and you feel the guilt start to set camp in your stomach. “And I don’t know, at first he just didn’t seem like your type? I always thought you wanted to date someone gentle, someone you could hold and depend on. He looked so serious, and maybe a little immature.”

“He is a little immature,” you agree softly, digging your boots in the snow, “but I don’t love him any less because of it. We’re growing together.” Shit, why was that so easy for you to say? 

“Figured,” and Namjoon stops to place a hand on your shoulder, “I see the way he looks at you, and you can’t fake love like that.” 

Namjoon’s admonition is so convincing that you almost convince yourself that it is something. 

Something is bothering Jungkook, and he doesn’t know why. 

It’s not the billions of charges he made on his credit card for new ornaments, because it simultaneously inflated his ego and impressed your mom. 

It’s not the way Jimin hangs onto his every word and doesn’t let up, because it is refreshing to have your cousin find a genuine interest in him. 

Jungkook, Jimin and your mom have been taking laps around the mall for the past hour. They’ve floated around here and there, picking out whatever catches their eye for the tree. 

Jimin’s in the middle of explaining the Jamba Juice story when a glimmering window display catches his eye. 

“Hun, have you not bought her a present yet?” your mom says over his shoulder. 

“No,” he exhales, embarrassed that he just admitted he didn’t think of getting you anything in front of your mom. “She doesn’t ask for anything, really.” Besides her book published, a raise, and a potential promotion as editor, but they didn’t need to know that much. 

“Good thing you’re with the right people!” Jimin cheers, ushering him into the jewelry store. 

Funny enough, he knows exactly what to get you. Once he points it out, Jimin and your mom “ooh” and “aah” respectively, agreeing that what he chose was perfect. If you had asked Jungkook a week ago what kind of jewlery you like, he’d give you a dumb look and say “something shiny.” But that’s what’s bothering him. He just walked right into the store, saw what was right, and everything just clicked. 

Jungkook pins that thought for later, because once their shopping is done they’re back at your villa, arranging the ornaments and detangling the lights that have been holed up in the closet for eleven months. 

Jimin and he are sitting on the living room floor, stabbing thread through popcorn. He really only saw this craft in the movies, and the small part of him is amazed that you and your family go through the hard work to make your holidays so warm. 

Your mom appears from her bedroom, clutching something in her hand. She sits in front of Jungkook, a huge smile on her face. 

“Before you say anything,” and it strikes him how similar you are to your mother. There’s that tone he always receives before he gets new news, or the way you’re eager to share something that will make him happy. “I don’t want you to think this is a luxurious gift or anything. But I realized that you don’t have a wedding band so I went through my old cases and found this.” 

She opens her palm slowly, revealing a simple black band. 

Jungkook’s lips part to form words, but his vocal cords betray him. At first glance, this ring could’ve been mistaken for one of Jimin’s plentiful rings adorning his fingers. Upon closer inspection however, Jungkook notes that this band is thinner and more worn. The metal looks strong and old, the slight scratches and faded color revealing that it was a well-loved piece of jewelry. 

Your mom is offering Jungkook a wedding band. 

“If you don’t like it, that’s okay!” your mom says quickly, nerves radiating because of Jungkook’s silence. “It was my grandfather’s. Don’t feel as if you have to accept it. It’s not a wedding band persay, but I think it matches and it looks about your size and we didn’t get you a Christmas gift so—”

“It’s perfect.” Jungkook tells her firmly, sending him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, I guess we kind of rushed the engagement so I didn’t think of getting a band of my own.” 

Your mother is grateful, dropping the ring in Jungkook’s awaiting palm. “I think my daughter should be the one who puts it on you, don’t you think?” 

“Right,” he echoes, and he just stares at the ring in his hand, feeling weird in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone put this much thought in getting him something this significant. He can’t accept this ring, but he can’t refuse it either. “I could never find something with this much value from a little shop in New York, so thank you.” 

“Oh, and while we’re on the topic of New York,” Jimin puts down his completed popcorn wreath, “y/n said she already put in her off days for Easter, so you should too. It’ll be at my place this year, and I live by an indoor skydiving zone. She mentioned you’re an adrenaline junkie.” 

“She also mentioned that your birthday’s in September.” your mom pops in, “We were thinking we could take Friday off and stop by for the weekend. I’ve always wanted to see Hamilton!” 

Jungkook knows they’re trying to cheer him up. They’re trying to make him feel part of the family, feel wanted. But he can’t remember the last time he’s felt wanted unless it’s for a book deal or a business exchange. It’s been so long since he’s felt this warm, and he didn’t realize how much he yearned for it until he proposed to you.

“Hey man,” Jimin puts an arm around his trembling shoulders, “are you alright?” 

“Fine,” he’s crying, and doing a shit job at hiding the tears. “It’s alright, I just,” he can’t even find the strength to get up and walk away from this. Is it pathetic that he’s breaking down in the comfort of your cousin and mom, starved for affection? “I just, I miss my family. It’s just the four of us, but they’re all the way in Korea and it’s been awhile since I’ve really celebrated anything with them. They visit sometimes but it’s not the same, y’know? And work is so stressful but I’m not in a position to say that. And your family is just so, so nice and it makes me miss them even more. You’re all so lucky to support each other like this.” 

Jimin and your mom sandwich him like an Oreo. It’s almost funny, how two smaller humans are comforting this big human and not the other way around. “Poor baby, it’s your family too.” 

Pathetic. It’s pathetic how much he wishes to have a family like yours, but he can’t have that. 

“Can we please not tell y/n about this?” Jungkook wishes, leaning his head on your mom’s. “She’s going through a lot right now with work and stuff, I’d rather just talk to her about this after the holidays, if that’s okay.” 

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” your mom runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes automatically flutter closed, “just remember, your feelings matter too, okay?” 

You and Jungkook slip into bed at the same time, murmuring half-hearted “how was your days” and brief descriptions of your outings. It’s a little awkward considering the morning’s events, but not unbearable. 

“The tree smells really nice,” Jungkook tries, looking up from his phone. 

“Yeah, makes the whole room smell like Christmas.” 

“Yeah.”

“Did you have a good time shopping, find anything good?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice.” 

[11:29] Jimin: hey, you know my room’s right next to yours right? 

[11:29] Jimin: we share a goddamn wall and im NOT hearing shit

[11:29] Jimin: are you putting that baby blanket to good use ;)

[11:30] You: YOU”REE DISGUSTING are we even family!!!!  Can i disown a first cousin?? 

[11:30] Jimin: i’m just sayin.. U said it was fantastic

You throw your phone away, letting it slide off to the mattress and onto the baby blanket. Yes, the baby blanket is unfortunately here to stay. Over the course of three days, the quilt is like a ball in a tennis match between you and your mother. You’ve given up and just kept it on the floor. 

“I have a question,” you say aloud, motioning to your bed partner. 

“Shoot.” 

“Was it true when you said I was the only girl you knew well enough to be your wife?”

“Of course, that’s why we’re here.” 

“I’m just wondering, because I really thought you could pick any girl in the office to be yours.” you stuff your hands under the covers, playing with your ring. “I mean, you’re kinda-sorta handsome. You could’ve picked someone just as pretty and they would have studied your whole life story for you.” 

Jungkook's phone falls in his lap, and he looks at you like you’ve lost a couple brain cells. “Normally, I would eat up the fact that you admitted I was attractive. But do you realize you’re just as beautiful, if not more?” 

What? 

“I know it’s unprofessional, but how professional can we get when we’re married, but you’re the whole package, y/n.” and he says it with such fervor, you can’t formulate a response. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. No one else can take my shit and throw it right back in my face, or debate with me for hours on end about a novel’s direction. Only you can do that.” 

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “thanks, you’re right. I’m just clouded, and stressed. And Jimin’s being an ass and it’s really bothering me.” 

His chocolate eyes flicker in the darkness of your bedroom, making note of your phone on the floor. “What’d he say?” 

“It’s stupid, he said that he thinks it’s weird he hasn’t heard us bang all week,” you force a laugh, “it’s my fault though, he wouldn’t get off my back so I gave up and told him the sex was fantastic.” 

“Are you worried he’s unconvinced?” 

“A little, maybe? I don’t know.” you’re wrinkling your bedsheets now, turning the cotton into putty as your sweaty palms wring at the edge. 

“I don’t mind giving him a show.” Jungkook blurts, and you instinctively pull the covers closer to your chest, even though you’re fully clothed. 

“What, like fake moan into the wall?” 

“There are things you can do over the clothes,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling the sheet of his bedside down slightly. “And you just said you’re stressed. I’d be a bad fiancé to not let you relieve some of that tension.” 

Jungkook opens his arms and gestures for you to get on his lap. Your body is hot all over, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re horrified or aroused. Maybe a little of both. 

“Are you kidding—you’re my boss!” 

“And we’re consenting adults!” he narrows his eyes at you, “don’t say you’ve never thought about it before.”

And the sick, twisted part of you has, a lot. There’s something about a man in a tailored suit and owning up to its power that’s really attractive. Not to mention all those times they’d be traveling for work, stumbling for a quick McDonald's bite at 12AM and he’d be dressed casually in tight black jeans and combat boots. The energy really kept you on your toes. 

“Wow, I really hate late-night talks. All the secrets come out, don’t they?” 

“If it makes you feel better, your ass looks great in pencil skirts,” you turn to him with flared eyes, “what? I’m just trying to let you know I mayhaps find you attractive.” 

“Mayhaps you should stop talking before I regret this.” 

His eyebrows lift and disappear from his bangs, the hair freshly dried and fluffy from his late night shower. He then pats his lap with a little blasé as if to say “hop on”, and you ignore the way how good the seat looks, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide his unmentionables. 

Trying to fight alongside your last drop of dignity, you take your time. 

“C’mon y/n, don’t make it weird.” 

“It’s been weird, Jeon! Jimin’s next door!” you hiss, backing away slightly, “Give me some time, I can’t just hump my boss!” 

“You’re not humping your boss.” Jungkook has the audacity to grin, the expression looking absolutely sinful in the moonlight. “Think of it as your lover wanting to make you feel good.” 

The bridge between love and hatred is a fine, fine line stemmed by passion. 

Careful, you lift your blankets up and slip out of them, moving to sit up. It’s ridiculous, tiptoeing around your bed to avoid any sudden creaks in the aged wood of your mahogany headboard. 

“We’re out to prove to your family we fuck on the reg,” Jungkook snips, “you can make noise.” 

Within seconds, he’s hauling you on his lap. You squeak in surprise, feeling the thin material of his boxers seep through your thin silk shorts. You wriggle around, monitoring Jungkook’s expression. He does not allude too much, but you take note of the way Jungkook secures you with his hands between the swells of your thighs. 

“I’m not a rollercoaster, stop adjusting like you’re gonna buckle up.” 

Jungkook’s dry humor lightens the mood considerably, and you can’t help but smile timidly at his attempt to make you feel at ease. He lets you take your time, and you never imagined someone so demanding in the office can be so… kind in bed. 

You dip forward to kiss his lips once, twice. He looks needy, but lets you set the pace. You appreciate that. You’re salivating at his willingness to make you feel good, and you whimper as he nibbles on a sensitive spot on your neck. 

You need more. Sensing your urgency when you jerk his chin up, he muffles your sounds with a harsh kiss, taking care to moan deeply into your mouth. The heat is luxurious on this winter night, burgundy kisses exchanged between the sheets like secrets. His tongue slips between your teeth, tasting every inch of you and exploring you like the deepest texts. 

He pulls away slightly, and you’re drowning in his gaze. “Am I still just kinda-sorta handsome now?” he nips at your neck, sucking on a spot between your jaw. 

“N-no,” and you pull him up by the chin, taking in his messy hair and glazed eyes, “you’re fucking sexy,” and you tug your mouth to his once more. 

You don’t even realize that you’re rolling your hips until Jungkook breaks the kiss in favor of grabbing your hips, making sure your core is nestled perfectly between his hardening length. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to get wet, and the silk glides easily between your thighs like butter.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he encourages, one hand reaching up to cup your breast, “use me, make  yourself feel good.” 

“Please, don’t call me that,” you whine against his mouth, trying to keep the mood in, “Babe is fine, but baby girl makes me feel like a little kid and I’m not a little kid.”

“You damn right,” and he lifts his hips to meet yours in a sharp thrust, and you gasp hotly into his mouth. It’s too late to muffle your moans, not when you’re drenched with two pathetic pieces of fabric stopping the both of you. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent, strong, amazing woman.” 

With every compliment, he does all the work, thrusting with each adjective like he’s blessing poetry into your body. 

“J-Jungkook,” the name is muffled against his shoulder, too fuzzed in ecstasy to be embarrassed by the drool coating his tank top. His hair tickles your shoulder as he nips at your clothed breasts, swirling around your nipple. “I-I, m’gonna come,” 

“You’re almost there huh?” and he slips a hand between you two to find that sweet spot, swirling designs between your shorts. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

And you’re shaking, collapsing into his embrace as he rides out your high. He cradles one hand in your hair as you rub furiously against his other, chasing your pleasure like a starved animal. 

“K-Kook,” you murmur into his neck, finding the strength to roll your hips one more time to check. “You’re still hard, do you want me to help?”

“No.” he’s forthright, and as tired as you are, you force yourself to pick your head up. Sweat lines his brow and his face is flushed, but he’s already helping you off and handing you a tissue from the nightstand. 

“What?” you’re hurt, and don’t want to admit why. 

“Don’t feel like you need to,” he grunts into your forehead, dipping a chaste kiss right in the center. “Just let me do something nice to you for once.” 

As much as you want to, you don’t complain as he tucks you in. You don’t complain when you see a wet stain on his Kirby boxer briefs. You don’t answer back when he checks his phone one more time and pulls you in to press a kiss to your cheek. It’s 12:31. 

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs into your skin, and turns over so his back faces you. 

Christmas is a loud and eager affair. The entirety of your family piles into your house while still in pajamas, aunts and uncles from other villas running in with their children with their newly opened toys and gadgets. There’s a buffet style breakfast piled on the kitchen island, and you’re all eating in the living room while watching holiday movies. 

Jungkook melds right in, unsurprisingly. He has your baby cousin Dante in his lap, teaching him how to use the controls of his new Nintendo Switch. 

Despite only meeting Jungkook a few days ago, you notice that some of your family have taken the liberty of giving him small presents. You spot a simple silver chain around his wrist, courtesy of Jimin, and a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around his neck, courtesy of your aunt’s impeccable knitting club. 

“He fits right in, doesn’t he?” 

Yoongi hands you your usual cup of tea, and you accept it gratefully. You’re sitting right next to the tree, and you notice that some of the ornaments are miniature books. You absentmindedly run your fingers over the carved wood, especially on the ones that are your favorite titles. 

“Yeah,” you hate to admit, so you whisper it into your mug. But Yoongi can hear, he always does. “I didn’t think it would be this easy.” 

“Easy to love him, or easy to fit into this family?” 

You splutter into your mug, and Yoongi does the right thing by patting your back. It feels a little bit like he’s burping a baby, but otherwise, it soothes your lungs. 

“I am happy for you, you know.” he says, knocking knees with you. “It might not seem like it now, but I truly am.” 

Deciding not to dwell on his subversive confession, you thank him for the tea and excuse yourself. Dante seems like he’s got the hang of MarioKart, so you tug Jungkook by the hand and lead him back into your bedroom. 

“I got you a present, but I didn’t feel like making a scene about it,” you pull out a pink gift bag, tufts of white tissue paper sticking out. “Also, it’s kinda cheap and it was a last minute thing, so don’t have any high expectations.” 

“Gee, you’re really making me feel deserving of this gift,” but he takes his time in unraveling the bag anyway. 

He pulls out a shiny onyx black mug, rolling it between his hands. On one side it’s engraved in gold cursive “World’s Best Boss” but on the other side it’s engraved, “World’s Best Husband”. 

“Subtle,” he grins, pulling you into a hug. He gets that it’s a gag gift, but because it’s from you, it's a lot more meaningful. You could’ve easily delved into his bank accounts and see what he buys for himself, but you decided to take the more personal route. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your hair. And to really throw you off he says, “For my gift, I’ve decided to publish your novel.” 

You shove him away as if you’ve been stung, and you barely have the voice to ask, “Are you serious, you’ve read my novel? I didn’t even send you the first draft!” 

“We share the same Google Drive, it was easy to find. If you had noticed, it’s the only thing I’ve been reading this week,” he shrugs as if it’s nothing, but he’s in actuality giving you your lifelong dream. “You deserve it, really. I’m sorry if you felt like it wasn’t ready to be read. But it was wonderful, you’re a real wordsmith.” 

“I’m not upset,” you can’t be, not when he smells so good and he’s trying to hug you all over again. “How many copies?”

“10,000.”

“20,000.”

“15,000, and I’ll even give you permission to dedicate your novel to me.” he raises his brows irreverently. 

You scoff at his arrogance, but you don’t admit to confessing that along with professors and your family, you would be dedicating it to him. “Well my gift feels like absolute shit,” you deadpan, “can I have a do-over tomorrow? We can go to the mall or something.”

“You’ve done enough for me,” he disagrees, breaking away from you to place the mug on your desk. “Agreeing to my farfetched proposal, letting me into your home. I think that’s an amazing gift.” 

“You’ve been way too nice,” you look at him wearily, noting the rosiness in his cheeks. 

“You say that like it’s not possible!” 

“Who knows? Maybe the Christmas spirit has performed a miracle, who am I to judge?” and you can’t get enough of the man, running into his heart one more time. Pressing your ear to his chest you sing, “Well, in the Poconos they say, that Jeon Jungkook’s heart grew three sizes that day.” 

It may have not grown three sizes, but if the living room wasn’t so loud, maybe you could’ve heard his heart beating three times as fast. 

The calm after the storm is your favorite part of Christmas. Most of your extended family has left to mull in their own homes, leaving your family to laze around until it’s just you and Jungkook that are awake. 

Jim Carrey’s version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas is playing on Netflix, arguably the only superior rendition of the children's book. The tree is still glowing by the fireplace, soft white lights trickling in the darkened room. 

Earlier in the night, you and Jungkook had cuddled up in the middle of the couch under a blanket, and were too lazy to move even when the entirety of your family vacated. Either of you could’ve easily shoved each other off and went to bed, but here you are, making offhand comments over hot cocoa. Each second that passes by, you’re more aware of how well you two sink between the fabric like you’re meant to do this. The domesticity terrifies you, but you don’t dare to point it out. 

“How does his face do that?” Jungkook turns to you, contorting his face into funny expressions. It’s a poor attempt at the green creature on the screen, but it makes your mouth twitch and you fight the urge to giggle. “It’s like he’s made of rubber.” 

“He has a sense of humor, unlike some people.” 

“Very funny,” he says, turning away to take a sip of his cooca. 

Sinking further into the couch, you unconsciously latch onto him more, savoring his body heat. “Can I confess something?”  

“What’s up?” 

“A week ago, I loathed you. I used to have recurring dreams about you getting run over by a Wonderbread truck. And I was driving the truck.” 

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.” 

“No really, if I had the opportunity to watch you get hit by a cab, I would’ve paid for it.” 

“If it were possible for me to file for divorce at this very second, now would be time. You are a walking red flag.” 

“Okay, but!” you shush him with a finger to your lips, and he goes cross-eyed at the touch. “After seeing your stellar performance this week and an impeccable display of human emotion. I think after all of this, we could be friends.” 

“Fwends?” he says through your finger, mouth smushed. “Why whuh we?” 

Instead of lifting your finger right away, you swipe at his cherry lips, getting rid of the marshmallow sticking to the corners. 

“Because we get along.” you say simply.

“Because we’re supposed to be getting married.” 

“No! We’ve always gotten along! We’ve just been too up our asses to notice!” you sit up, appalled. “Here’s my theory, a change of setting has suddenly spurred on your character development—”

“—y’know I really don’t appreciate your use of literary jargon, it’s really pretentious—”

“—because without your external conflict, you have a chance to let loose and enjoy your life for once!” 

Jungkook frowns, adjusting his frame so he slightly hovers you. He’s pretty like this, dressed in fluffy black pajamas and his face soft. His eyes absorb the Christmas fairy lights, and you notice for the first time in two years that there are no longer purple bags under his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice so small you wonder if he’s worried to crush the moment. “Friends are hard.” 

You shake your head vehemently, “Friends are easy, keeping them is the hard part.”

He doesn’t know why he’s being so weird about this. You’ve worked for him for over two years, you know him as well as you know your skincare routine, down to the last detail. 

“Jeon, don’t think too hard about this,” you try to get him to lighten up, the intense look in his eyes throwing you in for a loop. It makes the little hamster wheel in your head spin rapidly, and you wonder if you’re really crossing a line. “Jimin said you had a really good time yesterday, I was almost jealous I couldn’t come shopping with you.” 

He cracks a smile at that, “Yeah, Jimin and I shared a moment,” and he leans down to the shell of your ear, “and he said he really enjoyed our moment last night.” 

“Oh my god!” you grab a nearby throw pillow, chucking the rough fabric in his face. 

He breaks into a laugh, but not the wine and dine chuckles that he’d have between terse negotiations for work. It’s a full out giggle, like he’s proud to have riled you up enough to break your resolve. Who knew your angry face could be so cute? 

“I guess if we’ve crossed a line, might as well make it all the way to the end,” Jungkook says easily, running a hand through his chocolate tresses. 

You and Jungkook are leaving the day after tomorrow. Most of your stuff is packed and ready to go, and you’re currently spending the rest of your night at a sit-down dinner with your immediate family plus Jimin. 

It’s peaceful, you muse. Jungkook even offered to help cook. Back at Big Hit not once did he ever bring leftovers from home, always insisting you order something for him during work. Kimchi fried rice is a simple dish, but Jungkook had taken great care in making sure it was cooked properly and adjusted to your family’s tastes. 

Your parents are glowing and enjoying their time with the whole family, a rarity that grows more valuable with age. The meal soothes you like a balm, reminding you of old conversations that had you spew milk out of your nose or Namjoon accidentally spilling beans on your lap. 

“Oh, you should also clear your schedule for the first week of September,” Jimin says absentmindedly, shoving another mouthful of fried rice. “Besides Easter, Jungkook says we can celebrate his birthday and visit for the weekend.” 

“Seriously,” Namjoon balks, sitting up straight as he regards you in disbelief. “You’re sure your Devil of a boss will enjoy you out of his chains for two vacations, god forbid you take the holidays off again.” 

The grip on your fork tightens, but you steel yourself. Honestly, you were wondering why it took Namjoon this long to let it all out. He was always vehemently against your job, as he was the person who got the brunt of your vents when you were stressed. Probably for the sake of Christmas he let it go, but now that it’s over, the topic’s fair game. 

“Oh, c’mon Joonie,” your mother frowns, “not at the table.” 

“He isn’t that bad, Joon.” you reason, completely ignoring Jungkook as you stare straight at your brother. “He means well—”

“Means well?” Namjoon barks a laugh, as if it’s the most laudable thing. “Sis, you cried everyday for a straight month after you were hired.” he places his hands on the table, regarding you carefully, “I had to personally call your doctor in New York to get you sleeping pills, and not to mention that two weeks ago, you were crying again because you were worried he forgot your vacation and would make you work! Don’t tell me he ‘means well’ when I’ve been busy picking up the pieces!” 

At this point, you’re livid. Jungkook’s right here, and while you can’t go ahead and out the fact that he is your boss, you can still have his back. 

They don’t know that you’ve picked the pieces back up, reinforced yourself to create a better version of the person you once were. 

“He does mean well,” you cry, matching your brother’s red tone to a T. “He’s just stressed and genuinely cares about the company. I choose to work long hours because he takes his time in making sure the work we publish is worthwhile, and I support that. He’s hard on me because he knows I have potential. He’s going to make sure I succeed.” 

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “You’re seriously defending your shitty boss?” 

Jimin puts a hand over Namjoon’s in an attempt to placate him, but he shoves it away.

“Honestly,” Namjoon spits venom, “how can you possibly stand to be around someone who makes your life so miserable?” 

Your meal has gone cold, and your fists clutch desperately at your jeans. The breath is robbed from your lungs, and you can’t look at anyone for fear of them regarding you with guilt. You know since the day you got hired that your family wasn’t exactly enthused at your boss’ level of expectation and work output. But they don’t know the industry, and they don’t even really know Jungkook past the surface level. . 

But you know in their eyes, they’re right. Their daughter left their comfy home to pursue her lifelong dream, only for it to be broken in a matter of weeks. It’s natural to feel protective, and while you’re resilient and were able to get it together as of late, it wasn’t enough for them to understand. As someone who loves you, it’s obvious they’d want to blame your boss, blame Jungkook for your suffering. 

You imagine your father would ask Namjoon to step outside, or your parents would make Jimin pull you and Jungkook out. Neither of those things happen.

A warm, large hand is placed on top of yours. You look towards Jungkook, face unreadable as he squeezes your thigh. 

“Namjoon’s right.” Jungkook utters, pressing his lips together. “You deserve to be treated with respect. The boss has never appreciated the hard work you do, at least not out loud. You’re too good for him.”

“Jungkook,” you gape, putting your other hand over his. 

He pulls away at your touch, glancing at the clock. “This dinner was wonderful,” he says gently, looking apologetic to your parents. “Excuse me, but I promised to call my parents at this time.” 

The excuse is completely half-assed, but no one says anything as he leaves, walking out the door without a coat. The table is terse, with your parents attempting to coax out dessert while Jimin clears the dinner table. You refuse to look at Namjoon, who has no idea why you’re so upset. You wait five minutes before you mumble about getting Jungkook a jacket. 

However, when you open the door he isn’t sitting on the porch. He’s all the way up the street, too far for you to be heard with a yell, and walking farther into town. The black hoodie falls to your side, disappointed. 

Jungkook does in fact, call his parents. Your mother suggested it when she gave him the ring, thinking it would ease his homesickness if he made a better effort to communicate his feelings. 

And so he spends over an hour huddled in a cafe, talking about nothing and everything with his mom and dad. He tells them about the little novelties he’s experienced this week, like making popcorn strings and picking out themed Christmas ornaments. He tells him how he promises to book a flight back to Korea as soon as his work visa goes through. While he doesn’t mention the proposal, he mentions you. He prattles on and on about how strong and beautiful you are, and how you’ve crept up on him and made him realize how awful of a person he was. 

His mom prattles excitedly through the line, saying that women make you realize how much better you can be for them, but she doesn’t know the half of it. 

Jungkook sat there in your dining room, Namjoon boldly telling you off about how miserable he’s made you. 

And yet still, you defended him in ways he never imagined. Your relationship has always been mutual, and prickly at best. You balanced each other out, but he knows he doesn’t deserve you. When he first hired you, he rendered you indispensable like all the other assistants that couldn’t handle it. You’d break eventually. 

And you did break. But you picked up the pieces and put yourself back together, and you didn’t resent him for it. He hated that. How can you trust someone who’s hurt you so much? 

He can’t let you go through with this marriage. You’re wrong. You don’t need him to be successful. 

[11:09] You: mom unlocked the door for you. Jimin and i went out for drinks so idk when ill be back

[11:09] You: please don’t be mad at me

Silly girl, why would he ever be mad at you? 

His plan is simple, Sneak into your villa, grab his luggage, and try to book the earliest flight back to New York. Then, he can come clean to Taeyeon and spend the year in Korea while they work out his visa issues. He’ll quietly pack his things and clear out the office before Monday.  Hopefully by the time he makes it to Busan, he can forgive himself. He’s going to regret missing your expression when you get to hold the first physical copy of your novel. 

This plan proves difficult when he sees Namjoon waiting outside for him, sitting on his luggage and reading a book. His long legs are splayed across the porch, and he doesn’t spare Jungkook a glance.

“Knew something was off,” the older man doesn’t look up from his novel, “found the mug on her desk, bossman.” 

Muttering a curse under his breath Jungkook opens his arms, “Are you gonna beat me up now?” 

“What? No, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Jungkook scoffs, and watches Namjoon roll his luggage to the back of the van. “And out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll save you the Lyft fare and drive you to the airport.” 

Is he that predictable? He flinches at the sudden jet of the ignition, and he takes heavy, snow-laden steps to the passenger seat. Once buckled in, Namjoon tosses the book in his lap. “Some light reading for the drive.” 

If Namjoon wasn’t the driver, he wouldn’t hesitate to chuck the book at his big, intelligent head. Instead, he glowers, clutching the book tightly. It’s only when they round the corner to a house brightly decorated with lights, does he see what novel Namjoon’s plucked. 

A Mutually-Assured Attachment. Jungkook tosses the book back and forth between his palms, noting the soft cover is so worn it could melt apart in his lap. It feels tended and loved from years of use. 

It’s Jungkook’s first novel, and you had a copy. One of the first editions, if he remembers the cover art correctly. Granted, he thought you had some of his books purely because of your job, but not one from your childhood. Frankly he thought this should have never been published, but he was nineteen and that in itself was a large feat. 

He carefully peels the pages, and takes out his phone to shine the flashlight mode. At the very front, blood red ink is scratched next to the title: “this is THE most pretentious title i’ve read in my life! Don’t disappoint me jeon!!” 

Your handwriting’s all over the place. He sees graphite, gel, and glitter pens mark the margins, as if you’ve come back each time to write something new. The annotations vary, from “this part sucks” to “shit, that’s good i should do that”. You draw little pictures of the objects he’s contrived, from the little brass locket one character cherishes to the facial expressions you imagine they hold. 

And at the very end, your handwriting sits neat and bold on the inside cover: I can do better than him. 

Jungkook chuckles to himself, turning off the light. You’re always right. 

Namjoon senses the younger one is done, and he clears his throat. “I really really don’t understand what she sees in you.” 

“I don’t understand either,” Jungkook agrees easily, his finger tracing your handwriting. He muses that you were always out to get him, even if you didn’t know it. 

Namjoon masks his surprise by clearing his throat. “But I’d rather seek to understand than live the rest of my life having my sister resent me. I don’t really know what you two are going through, but if she trusts you with her life, I’ll try. Emphasis on try.” 

“I don’t deserve your trust.” 

“You damn right you don’t,” succumbing to his impulses Namjoon makes a sharp turn, and Jungkook holds his stomach together before it flies out the window.  

You come home to find your room cold and barren. All of Jungkook’s things are gone, except your Christmas mug. 

You at least thought Jungkook would spare you a goodbye before he ditched you. You hoped you’d at least consider each other friends who provide explanations after all of this. 

Lifting the mug off the desk, you hear a little clink in the glass, the chime unfamiliar. Hurriedly, you pour out its contents. A heavy, tungsten black ring lands in your palm. You clench the metal between your fingers, hugging it to your chest. 

Mind made up, you dash out to the hallway, nearly bumping into your cousin. At the same time you and Jimin blurt, “We need to go to the airport.” 

Apparently Namjoon warned Jimin that something fishy’s going on. Namjoon didn’t know what, but he had the inkling that Jungkook was hiding something. Once Jimin received the text to meet them at the airport, he flung you in his sedan and floored it. Flushed with adrenaline, Jimin is speeding with a fervor you’ve never experienced. 

“Can you please, take the edge off and tell me what the hell is going on?” 

Just like how Jungkook didn’t want Big Hit to go down the drain, you didn’t want this week to be in vain. You can’t wait a year for Jungkook to come back, and you didn’t want to publish your first novel without him by your side. 

“Long version or short version?” 

“The in-the-middle version. I don’t think I have the brain capacity to absorb all your drama right now but I really need some answers.” 

“O-kay. Basically, Jungkook isn’t a Literary Agent. He’s my god-awful boss. Or was awful, I don’t know. Jungkook left the country before his work visa was fully processed. That’s a breach, so he needs to live in Korea for a year to come back. But he can’t run Big Hit remotely, so he proposed to marry me to attain citizenship.”

Your head whips to the dashboard and you cry out, barely stopping the impact with your hands.  

“Sorry, sorry!” Jimin’s eyes are focused on the red light, absolutely terrified. “Bitch, you’re committing fraud with your boss! You could go to jail, that’s like, the hottest love story ever!” 

“But he’s going back to Korea because now he suddenly realized he can forge basic human connection.” you mutter, “so no, we’re not going to jail because he’s decided to do the right thing.” 

“So what you’re saying is, Jungkook has achieved self-actualization and decided to peacefully move to Korea and sacrifice the company for you.” Jimin is carving his free hand in the air, gesturing wildly. “Don’t you see! He really likes you.”

“Yeah, so now we need to go to the airport and tell his dumbass this isn’t the time to be selfless.” 

Once you find a spot you’re rushing out of the car, weaving between carts and people to find the correct terminal. This airport is much smaller than JFK, so it’s easy for you to navigate and get past the TSA. It also helps that Jin’s wife is an attendant. 

“He chose the 1:45 flight in Terminal 31A,” Mijoo chirps from her tablet, leading you in the right direction. She’s dressed impeccably, the odds and ends of this airport glued together by her impeccable organization. She points to the clock, which glares a digital 1:18AM. “You have time.” 

“Thank you Mijoo,” you exhale gratefully, “and I’m so so sorry I skipped your wedding!” 

“This is the 300th time you’ve said it,” Mijoo rolls her eyes, pushing you and Jimin forward, “But I’ll make sure not to miss your wedding.” 

You’re sweating from your down jacket, and you can’t believe it’s really all come down to this. The one person you’ve spent the last two years of your life doting on, and you didn’t want to stop. You wanted him not just for the publication of your novel, but because you needed him. 

Jungkook’s sitting in the waiting area of Terminal 31A, looking wholly inconspicuous as he reads a book and has his hood propped up. 

Fists balled, you stride forward only to have Jimin tug you back. “What?” 

Jimin pulls off your thick coat, making haste to wipe the sweat off your brow with his sleeves and flatten your messy hair. “What?” he tilts his head to the side, “you need to look good before the big confrontation. I’m recording this for archival purposes. Do you have any lip balm by any chance? You look chapped.” 

You slap his hands away, but those grubby fingers just come back with a vengeance. “My life is just a big show to you, isn’t it?”

“Living vicariously all day, every day.” 

While Jimin parts your bangs, the intercom cuts through the air. 

“The 1:45 flight to John F. Kennedy International airport will now commence boarding. Please line up according to the ticket class.” 

Jimin smiles at you, squeezing your shoulders and gestures for you to go. To your horror, Jungkook is first in line. Panic bubbles to your throat.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you cry, voice echoing throughout the terminal. “If you so much breathe in the direction of that plane I will call Mark Lee right this second and tell him the book series is off!” 

Like a deer in the headlights, Jungkook heeds to your voice immediately. In his stupor you jog forward to snatch his wrist and pull him out of line. You don’t let go until you’re away from the long line, and Jungkook tugs his wrist away. 

“Don’t you dare call him,” Jungkook looks serious, as if you didn’t drive all the way to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. “I will never forgive you if you terminate Mark Lee’s contract.” 

“And I won’t forgive you if you get on that plane.” 

Pain flashes in his eyes, and he shakes his head. “I need to. I can’t let us—let you go through with this. You and your family deserve better.” 

“What? Jungkook, I agreed to this just as much as you did.” 

“No, you didn’t.” he’s adamant, and steps back with every step you take forward. “As your boss I threatened you, held it over your head like an ultimatum. I’ve hurt you,” his voice cracks, looking at you desperately, “why would you want to be stuck with me when I’ve made your life miserable?” 

“If I really wanted to leave, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” You reason, “Do you really want to leave the company behind? To fucking Karen?” 

“Of course I don’t!” Jungkook exclaims, “but it isn’t worth hurting you, hurting your family and everyone that loves you.” 

“And what about you? You’ll be hurt when you leave,” and you step forward, so close that your chests are touching. You take hold of his hands, clutching them between your small ones. “Don’t go, stay with me in New York. We’ll both work hard and try to not run each other to the ground. Let’s be better together.” 

You’re practically begging, biting your lip raw and hoping Jungkook understands how good this change is for the both of you. 

Jungkook is conflicted, looking back and forth between the airline boarding for JFK and your watery eyes. He hates seeing you like this. He can’t imagine you, the strongest woman he’s ever met, crying because of him. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind and he tries to smash it to the edge of his memory. But as always, you’re right. 

He replaces your grip with his own, and gets down on one knee. 

Jungkook says your name like it's the sweetest of songs. You’ve never seen him so terrified. “y/n, I didn’t do it right the first time, so let me try again. Please, marry me. Marry me because I want to date you. I want to take you out and give you what you deserve, what we deserve. I want to do better for myself, do better for you. I’ve realized you’re the only person that makes me feel like I’m simultaneously on fire and on thin ice,” he pulls out a velvet box from his pocket, revealing a thin band with interlocking black and clear diamond studs. It’s a pretty little thing, with a groove in the center so it stacks perfectly with your engagement ring. “This was supposed to be your Christmas present, but I chickened out at the last second,” he says sheepishly, tucking his head in. “But if you let me put this ring on your finger, I promise to be your home away from home.”  

With a sob you fall to your knees, throwing yourself onto Jungkook. A small “oof” escapes his lips, and he struggles to hold your waist so you both don’t topple over. “Yes, yes, yes!” you cry, pulling away to cup his face with both hands, pulling him into a sweet kiss. 

Jungkook’s smile takes up his entire face, and he eagerly pecks your lips one more time before ripping the ring from its holder and stacking it on top of your engagement ring. The teardrop diamond is nestled perfectly between the thinner band’s V. “Pretty,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Wait,” you pull out the black ring that you found in your room, holding it to his face. “I’m assuming this is yours?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, “your mother said it was your great grandfather’s. It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s the thought that counts.” 

“It matches,” you hum, placing his simpler band in his ring finger. Once it’s on, you take a deep breath. “Shit, we’re really doing this?” 

Jungkook pulls you to stand, wiping the happy tears from your cheek. “We are, we’re a team, remember? We’ve crossed the line and we gotta finish it.” 

And he picks you up, the workouts definitely paying off as he spins you around like you’re the leads in La-La Land, drunk off the happy chemicals firing in your brain. Jimin whoops and hollers, along with all the other patrons in the vicinity of the airport terminal. 

Your real-fiancé puts you down, the both of you now hyperconscious of the stares people give you. Other people have filmed the proposal as well, completely smitten by your confessions. 

“Jungkook,” you giggle into his shoulder, “you were right. Our story is straight out of a Wattpad entry.” 

“Down to the super cheesy in-public airport proposal?” he chimes, pressing his forehead to yours. “Couldn’t have asked for a better love story.” 

“I can’t wait to fall in love with you,” you whisper, quiet enough for his ears only, “for real, this time.” 

“Not that it’s a challenge,” he teases softly, “but I’m already halfway there.” 

some months later.

“Like the new office, boss lady?” your new assistant (yes, you have an assistant!) asks kindly, his bubbly presence uplifting you immediately. He leads you to the window box, filled with tiny plants. “I figured you like succulents, because you have no time to water them and they’re prickly like you.” 

“Very funny, Seungkwan.” you chide good-naturedly, picking up a succulent with a yellow flower in the middle. “But thank you, your interior design skills are outmatched. I can’t wait to work with you.” 

“Me too, your social commentary you published on the literary industry? And you managed to lace it all up in an inconspicuous fantasy novel?” Seungkwan boasts, “I applied for this position right then and there.” 

“Thanks Seungkwan, why don’t you take your lunch and we’ll meet back at one to discuss our plans for next week.” 

“Sounds good, do you want me to pick you up something?” 

“I’m good, I’m meeting with the bossman.” 

Seungkwan gives you that look, his lips jutting out in a suggestive manner that almost makes you burst into giggles. Your assistant decides not to bother you until after you’ve eaten, and bids you goodbye. 

Just when you get a moment of peace, a handsome face pokes his way inside. “Hello editor,” Jungkook knocks on your door for the sake of attention, but you’re already dragging him into the office and shutting the door tight. “Like your new office?” 

“Love it,” you moan, gesturing to Seungkwan’s light filtering curtains. They’re not dark, rather a tasteful sea green, but they’re opaque enough to stop wandering eyes from peeking into your space. Your personal space was a qualm that immediately needed to be mended after your experience in Jungkook’s office. “A lot more private than your office.” 

“A little part of me hates how much you deserve this promotion,” he sits on your desk, and doesn’t hesitate to pull you between his legs, letting you lean into his chest, “but I do love the added privacy.” 

You fiddle with the buttons of his navy collar, his strong thighs trap you between him, “Why, miss me already?” 

He shrugs, “Taehyung doesn’t look as good as you do in a pencil skirt.” 

You laugh, brushing the strands of hair that fall from his coiff. “No one looks as good as I do in a pencil skirt.” A firm grip confirms that, two strong hands cupping your backside. “Mr. Jeon!” you gasp playfully, pushing him away slightly to pinch his cheeky grin. “Can we save this for later? I’m hungry, but we can always continue this for dessert.” 

He groans in your neck, “Love the sound of that, Mrs. Jeon.” 

bonus.

“FUUUCCCKKKKKK YEEAAHHHHH!” Park Jimin’s voice bounces off the walls of Taeyeon’s office, his face taking up the entire screen of his desktop as the camera shifts harshly between him and you and Jungkook at the airport. “My cousin’s not going to jail! WOO!” 

Taeyeon pauses the YouTube video at a particularly unflattering screencap: Jimin’s nostrils are flaring wildly and he looks fairly high mid-scream. 

A low whistle escapes Jungkook’s lips, “Wow. That video’s viral,” he looks to you appreciatively, “if Jimin kicks off his YouTube career, you think we can milk a memoir outta him?” 

“Potentially,” you reply nonchalantly, playing with your rings. 

“So,” Taeyeon’s voice is icy, slashing between your casual conversation, “you’re getting married, for real this time?” 

“Yep,” Jungkook pops. 

“Alright,” and from her desk she pulls out an ungodly stack of documents, one that mirrors your own back at the office. “Jungkook, you’ll stay with me. y/n, you’ll go to Vernon’s office and he’ll give you the same spiel. We’ll interview you privately with the same questions. A hair out of place and you’re in trouble. You sure you want to go through with this?” 

You and Jungkook exchange looks, betting your own company that you got this in the bag. 

“Hit us with your best shot.” 

[islesnucks]

THE NANNY - ELIAS PETTERSSON X READER

inspired by this fragment of what bo said in a interview about letting the team babysit Gunnar

ps: i don’t know if they nicknamed him Gunnsey, just saw Jake call him that once 

ps2: this is not proofread so just a warning

Word count: 3.4 k (a bit longer than what i usually do)

Warnings: kidnap is mention a couple times jokingly bc petey at first thinks Y/N’s kidnapping the kid, even though it’s meant 100% as a joke i know it could be triggering so just letting you know, however just in case keep in mind it’s never used seriously

Summary: Elias doesn’t know Bo and Holly hired a nanny so the first time he sees you with the baby he freaks out a little, eventually apologizes and there's fluff (i suck at summaries)

Masterlist

Add yourself to the taglist!

Elias was coming out of the dressing room when he saw you rushing down the hall with a little kid in your arms that he knew for sure wasn’t yours, because it was in fact his captain's son. So he did what seemed like the reasonable thing to do: look for Bo or Holly to tell them. Luckily Bo was near the door finishing his interview with a couple reporters.

“Hey Bo?” he approached him as soon as the reporters left.

“What Petey?” He could see the alarmed look on the boy’s face.

“I think I saw a girl running away with your kid.” he told Bo, who was about to lose it when he saw you walking down the hall in their direction with his son in your arms. He let out a relieving sigh, making Elias confused. If it was his child he definitely would be calling 911 by now.

“Is that the girl you were talking about?” Bo asked, pointing at you. The hall had become more crowded since the rest of his teammates started coming out, but he could see you as you stretched your neck and looked around for someone. Elias nodded, getting more confused by the second.

“That’s our nanny dumbass.” he informed him, hitting him in the back of the head for making him needlessly worry.

“A Nanny?” 

“Yes a nanny Elias. She looks after our kid, takes care of him. Don’t they have those in Sweden?” He knew what a nanny was and Bo’s sarcastic remark only made him feel more stupid. Of course you were the nanny, it was pretty obvious, now that he looked at you he could see you were carrying the bag Holly normally brought everywhere with Gunnar’s stuff.

“They do I just-” he started to defend himself but instantly shut up when he saw you appear next to him.

“Hey look it’s your daddy!” you said to little Gunnar in your arms as the baby stretched his arms toward his father making grabby hands. Bo smiled at his son and took him in his arms, but you could tell there was a bit of concern on his face.

”Is everything, okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just that Petey here though you were kidnapping Gunnar and almost gave me a heart attack.” Bo explained. Elias looked down embarrassed as his cheeks turned red. You on the other hand were too busy panicking to even notice the blushing mess standing next to you.

The Horvats had hired you mainly to help Holly around the house since she was getting back to her work and especially when Bo had to go on roadtrips. They also wanted Gunnar to get familiar with you, that’s why you were there tonight. This was your first time with them out of the house, if you did something wrong they wouldn’t trust you so they would probably fire you and you really needed the job.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry! I forgot my phone back on our seats and Holly had gone to the bathroom and you were still in there and I couldn’t leave him alone-”

“Y/N don’t worry. It’s fine.” he interrupted you with a sweet tone that made you ease the anxiety that started building up at the thought of losing your job before it even really started.

“I’m so sorry I should have told you before disappearing with Gunnsey.”

“Really don’t worry Y/N.” he kept reassuring you, but you couldn't shake off that bad feeling.

“What happened?” Holly asked after joining you and seeing your expression.

“Nothing, just a little misunderstanding Everything’s okay Y/N, really don’t worry.” Bo answered before you could and gave you a sweet smile that helped you calm your nerves. He would obviously tell Holly when they were back home, but it wasn’t a big deal and he didn’t want to make you feel like they were coming down on you.

Elias was starting to feel a bit out of place there so he excused himself, said goodbye and left to find his friends, but not before giving you one final look. Now that he didn’t think you were trying to kidnap his teammate's kid he found you really pretty and felt even worse for what he made you go through. You were smiling and chatting with Bo and Holly about the game, but he could see you were still a bit nervous. 

He made his way towards Jake, Quinn and Brock, who were already looking at him suggestively after seeing the whole interaction, completely obvious to the fact their friend had actually screwed up big time.

“Who’s that?” Brock was the first to ask, wiggling his eyebrows.

“She’s Bo and Holly’s new nanny.”

“I didn’t know they hired a nanny.” Quinn was the one talking now.

“Yeah, me neither and I kind of thought she was kidnapping Gunnsey-” he started to explain but instantly regretted it when he saw the looks on his friend’s faces. He was never going to hear the end of this.

“No you didn’t!” Brock cut him off and everyone started laughing, everyone except Elias who just shook his head trying once again to hide his embarrassment.

“Way to make a first impression Petey. She must hate you.” Jake said putting his arm around Elias. 

“Fuck off.” he replied pushing his arm off and walking away towards the parking lot as he heard their laughs behind him. He was not in the mood to endure the teasing from his friends.

On the drive to his apartment he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He knew Bo and Holly weren’t going to fire you, they were nice reasonable people who understood it was all a misunderstanding; a misunderstanding caused by him. Yet he couldn’t shake off the feeling he should have said something or at least apologize. So he promised himself that was the exact thing he was gonna do when he saw you again.

-

The next time Elias saw you was a couple weeks later. Bo and Holly were hosting a barbecue for the whole team and had asked you to come over and help look after Gunnar while they prepared everything.

Elias walked into the house with one thing in mind: apologizing to you. However as he made his way through the house towards the backyard he couldn’t find you anywhere. He took a sit next to a sit with the rest of his teammates and tried to make casual conversation but his mind was stuck on you.

Bo noticed the way Elias was barely talking and constantly looking around for someone and it didn’t take him long to realize that someone was you. Elias had asked him about you a couple times at practice and games after what had happened the other night, but he still didn’t know if he was just being polite and wanted to apologize or there was something more going on.

“She’s inside playing with Gunnar in his room.” Bo leaned in to tell him so the rest wouldn’t hear, then he simply turned around and continued working on the grill. Elias was a bit confused at first, he didn’t understand how Bo could even know what he was even thinking about. However he quickly stood up mumbling some excuse about going to the bathroom and headed towards the house.

He found you sitting on a little couch with Gunnar in your lap reading a book. You were too focused on explaining the drawings on the pages to the kid to notice his presence. Elias stayed a couple seconds by the door in silence, not wanting to intrude in the sweet moment you were having. He couldn’t help but smile as he heard the sweet high pitch voice you used when talking to the little kid, how you’d smile and make a funny face at Gunnar, how he would laugh at you which only made both your smiles grow wider. If the other day he had thought you were pretty, today he was convinced you were beautiful.

Eventually you finished the book and Elias thought it was time to make his presence known before you notice he had been there the whole time and thought he was creeping on you or something. He was sure you already had a bad impression of him, no need to make it worse. He gently knocked on the door and your face shot up at him.

“Hey.” he said shyly walking into the room.

“Hi.” you replied as you got up with Gunnar still in your arms. The kid wrapped his arms around you and rested his face in your chest, it was clear he would fall asleep any moment from now.

“Can we talk?” Elias asked, not sure how to begin the conversation and a little afraid you’d blow him off.

“S-sure.” you replied a bit confused as to what he wanted to talk about. “But in a low voice, he’s really close to falling asleep.”

“Oh yeah sure.” he immediately lowered his tone to almost a whisper which you found cute. A small giggle escaped your lips.

“I’m Elias by the way.” he said, extending his hand but quickly putting it away and blushing when he realized you wouldn’t be able to shake it since you were holding the kid.

“Y/N. You’re Bo’s teammate, right? The one who thought I was kidnapping Gunnsey.” you added a smirk and arched brows, making his cheeks turn even redder. You were joking about it, that’s a good sign Elias though. Maybe you didn’t hate him.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk about. I’m so sorry.” he finally said, letting out a deep sigh. He had been beating himself up about it since that night some weeks ago and finally being able to apologize was like taking a huge weight off of his shoulders. You could tell.

“Don’t worry, it was just a misunderstanding. I mean if I saw a stranger basically running down a hall with one of my friend’s kids I’d think the worst too. You did nothing wrong Elias.” you reassured him. Yes at the moment you nearly had a heart attack and felt a bit of resentment towards that guy who thought you could even do something like that, but after all you didn’t lose your job and you could tell Elias genuinely regret everything that had happened.

“Still I shouldn’t have thought you were kidnaping a child, you don’t look like you’d do that.”

“Glad to know I look like a decent human being.”

“You do! I mean not that I thought you didn’t. I-I think you look really pretty- really decent!” Elias started rambling trying to correct himself but felt he was only making everything worse. However you found the blushing mess of a man in front of you actually really cute.

“Thanks Elias, you look really decent too.” you told him with a sweet smile that helped calm his nerves down. He beamed down and at you and held your gaze. The room went silent but it wasn’t awkward at all. At one point you could have swore his blue eyes had hypnotized you.

“Oh you put him to sleep.” Holly said, appearing suddenly next to you. Only then you noticed at some point in your conversation with Elias Gunnar had fallen asleep in your arms. You then proceeded to walk up to the little bed and tried to lay the sleeping kid as gently as possible to not wake him up.

“You should head to the yard with us, grab something to eat.”

“Are you sure? What if he wakes up and-”

“Don’t be silly, that’s why we have the baby monitor. Come on, Elias can present you to the rest of the team.” she said hooking her arms with yours and basically dragging you out of the room too quickly to notice Elias blushed cheeks and for him to notice yours.

Just like Holly said Elias introduced you to the rest of the team before moving an empty chair so you could sit next to him. You didn’t miss the way his friends looked at you two and smirked, but decided not to make a deal out of it, just boys being boys.

The rest of the afternoon was spent eating, talking and laughing; mostly with Elias. At first you were part of the group conversation, but eventually your bodies started slowly turning to the point you were basically facing each other and having a conversation of your own.

He told you about him, how long he had been teammates with Bo, his love for hockey, how he felt moving to the states; he even showed off a little telling you about his rookie year and how he won the Calder trophy. 

And you told him about yourself, what you were studying, how you started babysitting and a friend connected you with the Horvats. He listened to everything you said, no matter how boring and mundane it seemed to you. You weren’t traveling the country living your dream like him, but to him every single fact you told him about yourself was impressive. You genuinely felt heard which wasn’t something common, especially dealing with guys.

Gunnar stayed asleep for most of the time. Only once he woke up and when he did Holly insisted she would take care of it, that she missed her baby boy. But you knew she was just doing it so you could stay with Elias, and you internally thanked her for it.

You completely lost track of time and by the time you checked your phone's couldn't believe it was already almost evening.

“I should get going.” you announced getting up and the rest of the group booed.

“Come on it’s not even 6pm.” Jake said.

“I know, but I have an exam tomorrow and I should go over everything one last time.”

“Do you have a ride?” Holly asked.

“No but I’ll just take an uber-”

“Petey can drive you.” Jake proposed without even looking at his friend who was debating on whether to kill him or thank him.

“But he’s the designated driv-” Quinn started to say but shut up when Brock nudged him on the ribs with his elbow. It was embarrassingly obvious his friends were setting him up, but if it meant getting more times with you Elias didn’t mind. He’d deal with them later.

You looked at Elias who by now had stood up with you and was reaching for his keys on his pocket. “You really don’t have to.”

“Oh I was already thinking about leaving, don’t worry.” he reassured you but you were pretty sure the idea never crossed his mind till you have decided to leave.

Your apartment wasn’t far from the house so in a couple of minutes Elias was parking his car in front of the door of your building. Throughout the night a feeling started slowly growing inside of you. You could tell he was a genuinely nice guy, he apologized and spent the rest of the day getting to know you, genuinely interested in everything you told him. It was clear a connection was starting to form between the two of you and neither wanted it to stop.

“Thank you for the ride. You really didn’t have to.” you said once again, eyes stuck on the windshield.

“It’s the least I could do after the whole misunderstanding the other day.” he replied and the car fell into a comfortable silence. You knew it was time to say goodbye, but part of you wished you didn’t have to. Elias was thinking the exact same. He knew what he wanted, he wanted to see you again, but he couldn’t find the words and a part of him doubted if you were just being friendly and it was all in his head.

“Are you going to our next home game next friday?”

“Maybe, I don’t know if Holly and Bo will ask me to go with Gunssey.”

“I mean you could go by yourself …” he started to say and made a pause to look at you, gathering the courage he needed before adding: “to see me.”

“Would you like me to go see you?” you asked, finally turning your head to look at him.

“Yeah I’d really like that.” he replied without missing a beat. The smile that appeared in your face the moment you heard his words made every last bit of doubt disappear inside Elias.

He started to lean into you, heart beating fast on his chest, holding your gaze. You raised your hand gently cupping his cheek and bringing him even closer. His eyes went from yours to your lips and back to your eyes. You were so close you were basically breathing each other's breath. But when your lips were about to touch he stopped and whispered: “You still haven’t answered.”

“I’d love to-” you let out between giggles. He didn’t even let you finish and was already connecting his lips to yours, unable to hold himself back any longer.

His lips were soft against yours, but determinate, setting the rhythm. It was a shy kiss, your first one of many to come. At some point you took off your seat belts to be more comfortable, only prolonging the moment. You’d stop to catch your breath with your foreheads touching, but the second your eyes connected again, go back to kissing, like you couldn’t get enough.

“I should go in, people are gonna start wondering why there’s been a sports car parked in the front door for the last couple minutes.” you joked, definitely pulling away from him but not daring to look at him because you knew if you did you were never getting out of the car. He leaned back on his seat, still in disbelief of everything that had happened. You looked at him one last time before you were about to get out of the car, and decided one last kiss wouldn’t hurt nobody.

He was surprised at first when he felt your hand sneak to the back of his neck, but smiled again into the kiss once he felt your lips connect to his. It took every bit of self control you had to pull away again and get off the car before.

“Friday then?” you said peeking your head through the open window of the car.

He nodded before adding: “And then we could go out? Have some dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.” You didn’t even try to hide the smile on your face.

“See you on friday then.”

“Goodbye Petey.” you said and he chuckled at how you had already started using the nickname his teammates had put him. He loved how it sounded coming from you.

“Goodbye Y/N.”

You turned around and started making your way to the building and Elias waited till you were in to drive away. You entered your apartment and let yourself fall on the couch, a loud chuckle scaping your lips just thinking about everything that had happened today. That bubbling feeling sill strong inside you, unable to take your mind off of the cute hockey player who couldn’t tell a nanny from a kidnapper.

-

i’ll tag those who asked for it and those who showed some interest on the fic (if i tagged and you didn’t just ignore this sorry)

taglist: @sorryjustafangirl​ @iwantahockeyhimbo​ @itshakiba​ @simpgirl-lat​ @mellany1997​ @stlbluesbrat​

also if you wanna be tagged whenever i post about petey or whenever i post a piece let me know!!

[rhenuvee]

The Cute Guy (Fred Weasley x reader)

Request: Could you do a cute after the war Fred Weasley imagine where the reader is applying to work at the Weasleys’ wizard wheezes. And slowly Fred falls in love with her.

*I realized I’m an idiot for not doing this sooner so tell me if you’d like to be tagged in my future fics. I write for 3 fandoms so please specify which one!*

Announcement: In case you did not see what I put in the request guidelines, school is starting September 14th for me. You can still send in requests, but I will be a lot slower with requests. 

—————————————

Fred remembered the day he hired you to work for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. It was a couple of weeks after he and George decided to reopen the shop. He saw how invested you seemed in the products and how your happy-go-lucky personality would bring a pleasant type of energy to customers. That would’ve been his genuine answer.

But now with his head in a daydream as you talked with a customer, he wasn’t sure that was the only thing that made him hire you. He saw how your bright smile lit up the room and how contagious your laugh was. He saw how pretty you looked even in just a uniform you wore to work everyday.

The shop was doing pretty well today, no complaints or accidents. However Fred could feel something not right at the corner of his eye. 

He turned to see his twin in a very exaggerated manner, resting his chin in his hands propped up on his elbows. Fred deadpanned knowing George was trying to copy him, obviously in a very dramatic way.

“Stop doing that you prat, you’re scaring the people.” said Fred pushing George. He scoffed in return of his twin’s pathetic insult.

“Me? Look at yourself.” said George pointing at Fred. The older twin grumbled, he was seriously conflicted. Each day he hid it, it seemed like his feelings for you grew more. 

“Why don’t you just ask them out?” asked George coolly as if it was the easiest thing in the whole world. Fred rubbed his temple in frustration.

“Yeah, and why don’t I step on a nail while I’m at it?”

“Good idea, tell me when you do so I can take a photograph.” Fred was about to get mad at his twin’s ignorance, but laughed dryly at his response with him instead.

“Look mate, if you don’t make your move, someone else will. You’re going to be all miserable and gloomy that your bird was taken. And I won’t be in the mood to deal with you.” explained George. Fred was annoyed at his brother for making fun of him, but also because he was right. Merlin, what was he going to do.

Meanwhile, you were at the front of the shop fixing up the love potions display and Ginny had just walked in. You became friends with her after being introduced when you were hired.

“Hey (y/n)!” her cheerful voice rang in the store. 

“Oh hi Ginny.” you said smiling and looking up from the stand.

“Want to grab lunch with me at that restaurant nearby?” she said grabbing your hand already leading you out of the shop. You partially stayed glued in place.

“Um, maybe I should ask Fred and George before going...” you said in their direction. It was kind of weird saying their names from your mouth. For the first week you called them Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley, but then you realized how old that must’ve made them feel after they told you about it. They were your bosses, you thought you had to address them formally!

“Who cares about them- she can go right?” asked Ginny quickly turning to her older twin brothers. Both turned their heads in sync and suddenly you felt warm knowing their gaze was on you.

“Of course love, we told you last time already.” said Fred almost out of impulse. You were busy blushing at the term of endearment to notice Ginny and George smirking and looking at Fred. 

“Okay, let’s go then.” said Ginny smiling. You waved to the twins before heading out to lunch with Ginny. George did nothing but grin and click his tongue. Fred’s expression was nothing but confusion, however George knew what he was implying about the nickname he called you. 

—————————————

“So tell me, what’s new in your life?” asked Ginny then taking a bite out of her sandwich. 

“I’m a very boring person Ginny, you know that.” you said sighing and sipping your drink. It seemed like a spark was lit in Ginny as you could feel like she jumped in her seat a little. 

“What about that cute guy you always talk about?” she teased. You facepalmed. Ever since that one time you went out with her and drank a little too much firewhiskey, you blurted out a bunch of randomness, and the cute guy was one of them. You have now learned to try and handle your liquor better.

“Oh god... you’re not still on about that are you?” you asked half serious and half pretending to be nonchalant so she could move on. 

“I am.” she replied bluntly. You rolled your eyes.

She wasn’t entirely wrong. Unfortunately, the cute guy was none other than one of your bosses- Fred Weasley. Thank Merlin you didn’t say his name directly that night. But even so, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. 

You applied to work at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes because you genuinely loved their shop and admired how they brought smiles to people’s faces, even in dark times. And you knew the owners were the Weasley twins- but you did not know that getting a closer look at Fred would cause your knees to become jelly, or your eyes to look anywhere but his chocolate brown ones. And thus, it lead to him secretly being called ‘the cute guy’ by none other than your drunk self.

You snuck a look back at the shop which you could see from the restaurant window and sighed. Would a relationship with your boss be weird? Of course it would! I mean, you were the same age, yes- but why would he go for an employee? With looks as good as his and his charming personality he probably had lots of girls lining up for him.

“Oh my god...” said Ginny, which snapped you back from staring too long at the shop. 

“Do you like my brother?” she asked almost frantically. Uh oh, she was onto you. You had to think of a a witty response to divert her from this conversation.

“You have... a lot of brothers Ginny.” you said trying to sound as normal as possible. 

“I’m talking about Fred!” she said. She was close to stuttering out the phrase since she was so excited. You flushed red knowing she was right.

“Se he’s the cute guy! Oh this is great!” she clapped cheerfully.

“Don’t put words into my mouth.” you said turning your head away from her. In this moment you felt regret for the firewhiskey in the first place.

“Oh don’t be like that (y/n), besides he fancies you.” she said with a sly smirk. 

“My own boss? Fancies me? You really learned from their pranking don’t you?” you asked putting emphasis. Fred fancying you was something you only thought about. She rolled her eyes again.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the way he looks at you.” she said. You did not. Thinking that Fred looked at you like you were special would’ve been a dream come true. You kept your mouth shut this time, you wanted to hear more.

“Ever since he’s hired you, he’s been giving you goo goo eyes, like in that one muggle movie where those ladies fangirl over that arrogant villain guy.” she explains. You were confused, and you needed to get out of this talk.

“Goo goo- fangirl- arrogant vill- ah just, you know what? You’re wrong, and you know it.” you said shaking your head. Ginny just shrugged.

“Well next time go see for yourself.” she said.

—————————————

You didn’t bother to follow Ginny’s instruction, however you couldn’t help to make ‘goo goo’ eyes yourself. He looked really good in a suit- he wore a different one everyday, and he looked good regardless of how flashy the colour of it was. 

Time flew by and you were exhausted, just one more hour and the shop will close and you can go home to your nice and comfy bed. Just a moment after a customer left, Fred came out of his office and went to the entrance door and locked it. You were puzzled, we were closing early?

“(Y/n).” he said looking at you and walking to where you were. You didn’t know what to think he was going to say, were you in trouble? You weren’t sure. George wasn’t with him.

“We’re gonna close early just tonight.” he said. God, seeing him really up close was making it hard for you to not check him out. His hair, messy as always, but somehow managed to look good. His eyes were dark and warm, a contrast to his freckles which highlighted his face. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why?” you said softly. 

“Well you see, George and I, we...” he paused mid sentence. Little did you know they had a plan. George told Fred for both of them to have dinner with you so that he could get some type of courage to sort of deal with his feelings. George did not mind being a third wheel, not that he think you’d notice anyway. And you were a good employee so the reason was not completely a lie.

“We wanted- we thought...” he managed to get out. This was not like him at all. It was like he was rushing to say something but couldn’t. 

“Merlin- (y/n) would you like to have dinner with me?” he said. Fred decided to just get it out. You were shocked, your eyes widened, and a slight pink tinted your cheeks. 

“You know what, just forget-”

“I’d love to.” you said fighting a grin appearing on your face. Fred on the other hand did not hold back and had a huge smile. 

“Then could I...” he trailed off. You were backed up against a shelf as his hand went to your waist. He was hesitant because at this point you both knew what was about to happen. The look in your eyes and the little nod you gave was enough for him to crash his lips onto you.

It took a little while for your mind to process what was happening- you and Fred were kissing. You let your eyes flutter shut and you kiss him back, Your hands move up to his shoulders. Even with his suit you could feel his toned muscles underneath. 

“Evening.” said a smooth voice from behind. You both pulled away with faces flushed and breathing fast and looked behind Fred. You saw George leaning on the table on his elbows... except he was being very dramatic about it purposely sticking his hips way out to the side.

You both were speechless, I mean what were you supposed to say when your boss’s twin just caught you kissing Fred? After a minute of silence-

“Well, guess I’m not invited to dinner anymore.” said George sighing. 

“No wait George, you can come too.” you replied quickly. George whistled and shook his head.

“Always too kind for your own good (y/n), no wonder my less attractive twin fancies you.” teases George. You and Fred both blush in embarrassment. 

“You guys go ahead, I’m not willing to be a third wheel, I think I’ll throw up before we even start eating.” 

“But-”

“I’ll throw up!” George repeated, and then saluted and headed back into his office. Your eyesight lingered in George’s direction for a bit before turning back to Fred, your hands still on his shoulders.

“You fancy me...?” you said asking for confirmation. 

“Yeah I do, quite hard not to if you ask me, walking around the shop looking like you do.” he said smirking. Oh, he was complimenting you. You covered your wide smile with your hand.

“And you..?” he asked back.

“Oh- yeah I do, I think I have since that day I had too much firewhiskey and called you the cute guy-” you instantly shut your mouth now knowing what spilled out. The look in Fred’s eyes were getting more mischievous. The was no way he wasn’t about to get cocky at what you just said,

“The cute guy?” he teased rubbing his large hand up and down your sides and bring you slightly closer. You covered your face in embarrassment.

“I think the word you’re looking for is handsome, love.” he said with a grin. Oh god, he would never let you hear the end of this.

“Oh stop embarrassing me will you?” you said shooing him away. 

“To be fair, I think you’re pretty cute yourself...” he said tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. It was almost like he was about to lean in again.

“-but you’re going to have to tell me more about that cute guy, darling.” he said leading you out to door to dinner. You shook your head at him, he was a troublemaker for sure. What did you get yourself into?

[ysljoon]

Books, Boba, Bosom Buddies|Kim Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the new hire at the library you work at. After the first clumsy run in you had with him your feelings for him develop over the months and you two painfully pine for each other.

Clumsiness is a trait that can usually be very hard to be considered an endearing trait, but somehow Kim Namjoon can change that. He doesn’t have a careful bone in his large, muscular body (he has such a nice body, how can we ignore that?). You got a first hand experience of his clumsiness on the first day when he was hired at the library. Somehow he decided to fill the circulation cart with more books than it can handle by placing books on top of the already properly placed books. As you turned the corner, both of you guys were unexpecting to each other’s presence. Namjoon was able to not only lose control of the cart to narrowly avoid hitting you, but also managed to dump the books all at your feet. 

After getting over the initial scare of being almost run over by the cart, annoyance came over you. You started to collect all the books that were scattered on the floor and you tried your best not to let your scowl show. You knew he was new, but how can somebody be this reckless with shelving books. Working at a library should be peaceful and Kim Namjoon is uprooting any semblance of peace that should be there. He stooped down and started to help you organize the books while profusely spewing out apologies. You looked up at him and your frown softened when you saw his dimpled cheeks and honeyed skin. Your annoyance disappeared because how can anybody hold any form of negative emotion to someone that looks this alluring? He was eye candy on thick long legs that caught your eye when he squatted down. Once you were done ogling him you got around to accepting his apology.

“It’s okay, just try to not hit any of our patrons because they will not be nearly as helpful or as nice as I was in this situation.” You gave him a cheeky grin and made your way to the audio section to find a DVD that a customer placed an order for pickup. Little did you know that the effect Namjoon had on you was the same case for Namjoon. The smile you gave him left him flustered in his spot, almost in a daze. He knew he was going to think of your smile for the rest of his shift and he didn’t need any distractions if he wanted to keep his job. 

//////

A couple months later you and Namjoon have become bosom buddies. You could call him for anything and he could do the same. You guys had created a friendship that blossomed into mutual pining that neither of you were aware of. The not so subtle flirting (it was painfully obvious to your coworkers, but of course the both of you were undeniably blind to each other’s advances) had ramped up as the weeks went on, but you still questioned if it could go any further. Jin, your other coworker at the library, was just as tired as you were from the blind romaticisizing. He always pushed you to ask Namjoon out, but you always disagreed by saying things like Namjoon was never interested in you and just thought of you as his best friend and nothing else. Jin always showed you evidence on how that wasn’t the case, but you were too in denial that someone as attractive as Kim Namjoon would want to be more than just friends.

As your shift came to a close and you were done doing your last walk around to make sure everything was in order, Namjoon was there waiting for you at the front with flushed cheeks. He was rocking back and forth on the sides of your feet and you wanted to just pinch his cheeks at how cute he looked at this very moment. You turned off the lights and walked out with Namjoon by your side. The library closes at 7 pm, but Namjoon still insists on walking you to your car even though there is still enough sun out to not pose any threat to your safety. The chilvarous action makes your heart flutter regardless. Tonight he seemed to linger around a little longer before saying goodbye. You gave him a hug and as you stepped off the curb he gently grabbed your shoulder. You turned to face him and he was avoiding eye contact while anxiously scratching the back of his neck.

“Y/N, there's a new boba shop that opened on the corner by my house. Would you like to go?” You now understood why he was acting so nervous and your heart was doing somersaults in your chest while Namjoon’s was probably beating like a hummingbird’s wings. 

“Like a date?” The words tumbled out of your mouth and you felt like an idiot. Of course this wasn’t a date, he just is your best and that’s all you’ll ever be to him.”

“Y-yeah it can be a date. Or not if you don’t want it to be!” Oh. You weren’t expecting that at all. You gave him a coy nod and opened the passenger side door for him to get in. The car ride was filled with tension that you’ve never experienced before. This is what you’ve been longing for and now that the time was here you didn’t know how to react. Namjoon put the directions into the GPS on his phone and you made your way to the boba shop. The drive couldn’t have been longer than 5 minutes, but it felt agonizingly slow from the awkward atmosphere.

Once you got to the store, Namjoon held the door open for you and the cashier gave the both of you a warm greeting. You decided on getting taro milk tea and Namjoon decided to get a hibiscus lemonade with fruity flavored popping boba. As you waited for your drink you made small chat with each other and started to make yourself more comfortable with each other. It’s crazy that you guys go from being best friends that could tell each other anything to acting like awkward high school freshmen that have no idea how to deal with feelings.

You and Namjoon enjoyed your drinks outside to bask in the warm summer air while watching the last of the sunset. Namjoon was going on about his love for nature and it made you feel so endeared that someone could feel so passionate about the beauty of earth. You couldn’t help yourself and cut him off mid sentence with a kiss. The boldness surprised not only him but you too. You pulled away and instantly regretted your decision when you saw his wide eyes.

“Namjoon, I’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me. If it’s weird we can totally forget this even happened and move on-” Namjoon gave you a warm smile and pecked your cheek with a gentle kiss. “I literally spent nights thinking about you kissing me. That was everything I dreamed of and more Y/N. I want us to be more and I’ve always wanted to be more.” Hearing his confession made you grin and you felt all your emotions come to the forefront, including your insecurities.

“I’m glad Namjoon, I want us to be more too, but before we go there. I just want you to know that I haven’t dated anyone since my freshman year of college so I’m probably a little rusty in the romance department.” You tried to brush off your embarrassment with a chuckle, but it didn’t make you feel any better. Namjoon took your hands in his for comfort and scooted closer to you where your knees were touching. “Y/N my first kiss was in my sophomore year and college and that was the last bit of romance I’ve ever experienced. We can teach and learn from each other since that’s what love is all about.” Namjoon wrapped you up in his long arms and everything felt right and you were content that the pining between you two was finally done. The days you spent daydreaming about him has become reality.

Notes: It is 2 am and I wanted to write this grossly self indulgent drabble. This is unedted and I’m so tired so please excuse any typos or grammatical errors I was inspired by me getting boba for three days straight. As always I appreciate any likes and reblogs. If you would like to support me further you donate to my Kofi

[santigarcia]

Watermelon 🍉

Human Touch Part Three

a nathan bateman x f!reader series

Part One | Part Two

word count: 1.7k

rating: M/E for sexual themes, smut (pls only read if youre 18+)

summary: Nathan offers to teach you to box, but he ends up showing you something else instead...

a/n: sorry im late getting this one out! make sure you read part one and part two!! thank you again to @punkpascal and @sergeantkane! let me know what yall think!

Nathan took you back to your cousin’s after a few more days spent tangled in the sheets. He fucked you a couple times at your cousin’s place just for good measure. It was a bittersweet goodbye, you had to go back home. But there was a promise you’d come back, stay longer with him.

You dated virtually for a few months. It worked out because he was up all hours working and could text you. He’s surprisingly good at multitasking. The sexting and the phone sex were nice, but you both missed each other’s touch. Something about him made you ache to be back in his arms.

He surprised you with plane tickets one day, and you flew out to him. You spent a week this time. But the goodbye was even harder.

An intimacy had grown. Your lives begin to merge.

But there was an air about him that was different. He was happier than he’d ever remember being, but also scared out of his mind. There were hours that would go by when you wouldn’t see him. He’d be working, but mostly he was trying to collect his thoughts. You were such a damn distraction. Every moment spent with you felt like the air in his lungs would leave him, he’d never be able to breathe again with you taking the air from him. His heart thuds in his chest and he swears he’s having a heart attack. But it’s just you, it’s you.

He still can’t believe you’re real.

One afternoon you walked in on him pleasuring himself. Fully naked, flat on his back on his bed. Big hand pumping his dick. Moans echoing in the room. He didn’t see you or notice you until his end. He came with a loud groan and he moaned your name.

When he sat up, he saw you, there was a moment of panic in his eyes, but then it turned to a smirk.

“Enjoy the show?”

“Why didn’t you….come get me?” you flush. He looked away from your gaze, a heat rises in his face and the tips of his ears turn pink.

“I still can’t believe you’re real.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“How long have you been so alone?” your heart hurts and you go over to him and kiss the top of his head.

These are the things that plague him. He’s been so alone for so long; he’s trying to adjust to life with you in his home. The heat in his bed. Someone else showering. Your clothes in the closet. Your shampoo in the shower. Little traces of you.

He’s also not used to having to talk to anyone. He’ll spend hours or days even deep in his work. Barely remembering to eat.

You ate alone one evening, so you wandered into his lab to check on him. When you asked him why he wasn’t with you he snapped at you like a scared wounded animal.

“We don’t have to spend every second together,” he’d said. But as soon as he said it, he was full of regret. He never wanted to see that upset look in your eyes again.

“Well, I only see you if we have sex!” Which wasn’t true, but it’s what it felt like. You’re only here for a week, you wanted to make the most of it.

You walked out of his lab leaving him alone. You saw the look on his face, and he looked defeated. Hurt. Angry. At himself, not at you.

Later you went back into apologize, only to find him asleep at his desk. His face smushed against the keyboard. Several lines of letters were being typed by his cheek on the screen.

“Nathan,” you whisper and gently touch his shoulder. He bolts upright and groans a silent “fuck” when he sees all the letters typed out.

“You need to rest, come with me right now,” you tell him. He doesn’t disagree and he follows you to his bed. You lay down first, on you back with pillows propped behind you. “Come here,” you beckon. And with a happy sigh he lays down, resting his head on your stomach just under your breasts. He breathes deeply as you scratch his back and softly rub his fuzzy head.

“I’m sorry,” you say first. “I’m a little nervous about this.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies. “I’m nervous as shit. I’m not used to having another person around. Especially not someone so-“ his throat tightens. How can he tell you that he loves you already? “What if I’m not good enough for you? I don’t want to hurt you. But- I’ve been trying to think of ways to ask you.”

“Ask me what?” you stroke his beard gently.

“Move out here with me,” he’d whispered into your skin.

“I’d love to,” you whispered back. “And we’ll figure this out. But you are good enough. My only,” you smile and kiss him softly.

He paid for everything. He hired movers to get your things. He paid for any expenses and every ticket. Your parents were a little surprised you were dropping everything to stay with someone they’d never even met, but they’d also never seen you happier in your life.

Nathan enjoyed helping you unpack. He analyzed everything you owned. And he liked making a space for all your things. He rifled through your record collection with keen interest, and all your underwear.

It felt so domestic being with him, and you knew it was the right decision. You’d been worried about being homesick, but that feeling never came. He was your home. You had everything you needed and could possibly want.

You kept in contact with all your friends, you’d video chat with them. There were things you missed, but you settled into life with Nathan with ease.

The newest part for you was sharing space with someone. He’d not done that in some time either. He’s not used to someone curling up against him in the middle of the night. He runs hot, but he can’t push you away. He’ll just turn down the AC.

This morning, the bed is empty. Which isn’t uncommon. He keeps weird hours. You pull on his Henley and some warm pajama pants and wander through the house looking for him.

You find him outside on the deck, he’s practicing his boxing this morning. His fists collide with the punching bag and you can hear him grunt with effort. Unashamedly you watch his tight ass bounce as he hops around on the balls of his feet.

You make your presence known by opening the sliding door to the deck. He sees you with a smile, but he keeps going. He might be showing off just a little for you, but you don’t mind. The newness of the relationship has him doing things of the sort.

“Are you going to teach me how to box?” you ask sitting on one of the deck chairs nearby.

“Well get over here and I’ll teach you,” he grins, his shoulders heave as he breathes deeply.

He holds your hands in his, showing you how to make a fist. His touch is warm, his eyes flicker with desire. He’s sweaty and his kisses are salty.

“Hold your hands like this-“ he tells you. He stands behind you and guides your arms on how to throw a proper punch without hurting yourself. He slots himself behind you, and you can feel him through his thin gym shorts.

“Nathan.”

“Hmm?” he hums in your ear and kisses your cheek.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought I was showing you how to box? What did you think I was doing?” He hums again and ruts his hips against your ass.

“It’s this shirt isn’t it?” you lean back against his chest and wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses your neck and his beard brushes along your skin.

“Yeah, you look so fuckin’ good in my shirt. Hold still,” he tells you and slips his hand down your pants. He wraps his other arm around you to keep you still while he rubs tight circles on your clit. “You know, kitten, I haven’t eaten you out yet. Would you let me?”

“Outside?” you moan while his fingers move. He chuckles in your ear.

“No one’s out here. Please baby, let me taste you.”

“You really want to?”

His fingers move faster, and you buck against his hand. You’re so close, chasing it when he pulls his hand away. He brings his fingers up to his lips and groans in your ear.

“You taste so good, I want more.”

“Please- let me finish. Use your mouth.”

“Attagirl,” he winks and squeezes your ass. “If you’re not ready though, say so. It’s not like I haven’t seen you.” He smirks.

“Where do you want me?”

He points to one of the tables. You sit down on it and lay back. He kneels in front of you and pulls your pants and panties down your legs. He spreads your thighs and puts them over his shoulders while he dives in.

His eyes close in pleasure while his tongue laps at your folds and sensitive bundle of nerves. He sucks and kisses and grazes his teeth. His beard scrapes your thighs, and you scream out in the open air.

“That’s it baby,” he moans against your heat. “Fuck, you have the best tasting pussy.”

“Nathan!” you whine his name, and he goes in harder. Sucking and eating you alive.

“You’re sweeter than the watermelon we had the other night,” he purrs into your heat. He doesn’t stop until you’re coming all over his tongue. Your sweet essence he could drown in. You’re real. Warm, wet, and real. He burns with need after tasting you. He’d keep going if he weren’t so hard in his shorts.

He pushes his shorts down and leans over you, kissing you deeply.

“Can I?” he asks, there’s a pleading tone in his voice. You practically beg him to push inside, you wrap your legs around him and pull him towards you. He sinks in with a sigh. The table scrapes on the deck as he thrusts into you.

“So much for teaching me boxing,” you gasp out a moan when he spills inside of you.

“Next time,” he chuckles, falling on top of you. “I’ve had my workout for the day.”

xx

tagging: @pascal-isaac, @wasicskosgirl, @velvetmel0n, @huliabitch, @shadow-assassin-blix, @writefightandflightclub, @aellynera, @softboywriting, @veuliee2, @spider-starry, @mylifeliterally, @millllenniawrites, @ntlmundy, @foxilayde, @writingletterstothefire, @mandoplease, @anetteaneta, @feelmyroarrrr, @artsymaddie, @shakespeareanwannabe, @poedameronsbeard, @deanfanatic, @magicsuperheroes, @phoenixhalliwell, @that-one-weird-one, @mariesackler​

[ffangirlingsince2001]

Nothing Alike: II

Description: Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with taking out a fellow Witcher who has decided to settle down in a town. She has no intention of leaving and Geralt is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: (future as well as present) violence, angst, smut, fluff, language

A/N: Is that a backstory and angst I smell??

Masterlist

Geralt was enjoying the spring afternoon when she started yelling at him…or at least she tried.

“Ah you’re awake,” he replied to her gagged screams. She was squirming behind him, probably trying to get out of the well placed knots he had tied to ensure she wouldn’t get away when she did finally wake up. He noticed Roach getting restless, annoyed both with the extra passenger and her lack of manners, so Geralt gave her a little shove, sending her toppling to the ground. She hit the ground with a thud and flipped over to glare at him.

If she hadn’t been mad before, she definitely was now. In the fall her gag had come lose and now he was being subject to ever single word she had to say. So much for enjoying the afternoon.

“I should fucking kill you, you fucking coward. Where do you get off kidnapping me?” she howled, struggling against the binds. When she failed, dangerous eyes flashed at him and she snarled. “Let me go now, and I promise I won’t kill you.”

“You’re not really in the position for bargaining.”

“Yet.”

“Say I let you go, what then?”

“I’ll join a convent and repent and pray to God every day,” she began before bursting into laughter and laying in the grass. “I thought I could say it, but even your horse knew that was horse shit, I’m going to go back to where I came from and make some money.”

“Then I can’t let you go.”

“What’s it to you anyways?”

“People already don’t trust Witchers, it’s not going to get any better if word gets around that one is robbing a town of its money.”

“I won it fair and square, no robbery required.”

“Of course, fair and square, with nothing but a genetic mutation on your side.” She sent him another glare, trying to subtly slide the ropes from her legs. “If you try running, I’ll catch you.”

“Oh please, last time you got lucky.”

“No, you underestimated me.”

“Well when you look like that I’m not exactly wowed,” she sneered.

“You talk big game for being the one tied.”

“You think this is the first time I’ve been tied up, c’mon being the only female Witcher who isn’t dying through the trials is sure to make me some enemies. Don’t worry, I took care of them.”

“The only female Witcher?”

“Oh, you haven’t been keeping up with your old school I see. We’re kind of a new idea, most of us die off, actually all of us died off, except me, I lived out of spite. And now I’m being harassed by another Witcher who thinks he’s got some holy purpose, well it turns out you don’t. Go, do whatever you want, stop killing monsters and make a good life for yourself, but before you do all that untie me.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” she growled, struggling with the knots a little more frantically now.

“They hired me to get rid of you, if I let you go you’ll just go back, and then they’ve wrongfully paid me, plus they think you’re dead.”

“They think I’m what?” she yelled.

“Dead, I told them you were.”

“Then why aren’t I?”

“Do you want to be?”

“Anything is better than being babysat by some holier-than-thou, thousand-year-old, Witcher who wouldn’t know how to have fun if it sprouted out of his big toe.” Geralt closed his eyes and took a deep breath, considering if he should have killed her in that alley. “Why do you want me around anyway?” His anger fizzled away for a moment at that question. It sounded just as biting as the rest, but something else had slithered into her tone, a sliver of self-deprecation perhaps? And it made him think, why did he take her, why when she was nothing but agony in his side did he bother bringing her with him.

“Because I want to know you,” he said and she snorted. She was laughing at him without a care in the world.

“Why on earth would you want to know me.”

“Consider it a study, you’re the first witcher I’ve met who didn’t go right to work, who didn’t take the weight of the world upon yourself and work yourself into nothing but blood and rust mixing with the dirt.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“Maybe not to you, but all I heard was, a witcher who knows how to enjoy life.” He snarled and she laughed. “If you’re going to study me you should probably untie me.”

“How about you answer some of my questions and then I untie you.” She considered it for a moment, weighing the pros and cons before she brightened with a grin.

“I’m an open book.” He climbed off his horse and ungracefully pulled her over to a boulder, perching her on top of it. He tied Roach to a tree and took a seat on his own stump.

“How long have you been out of the academy?”

“A couple weeks.”

“How old are you?”

“Geralt, you’re never supposed to ask a woman her age,” she teased, ignoring the annoyed look he sent her. “22, in real time.”

“Young to be a Witcher.”

“Like I said, I’m special,” she sneered.

“What do you mean by special.”

“Fuck if I know, that’s just what they told me.”

“Do you have a guess.”

“A few.”

“Are you going to share?”

“Are you going to make me?”

“No.”

“Then I think I would like to keep it to myself.” He nodded sharply before continuing.

“How long were you in that town.”

“The moment they let me go.”

“Did you try to leave before then.”

“Yes.”

“Where did you go?”

“How do you know I succeeded?”

“The scars above your collar.”  Subconsciously, she raised her shoulders, shifting her collar to cover the pink scars.

“They’re not from escaping, they did other things for escaping, but I tried to go home. I thought I could go back to living with my mother after she sold me out. Guess I was wrong, she sold me out again and got another purse of gold for her trouble. Then they locked me in a box, told me what being caged really felt like.”

“What are the scars from?”

“Various other incidents.”

“So, you were a regular problem then?”

“Of course.”

“Anything in particular stand out?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean any crimes that were really heinous.”

“I killed an instructor once, it was an accident but it still happened.” Geralt didn’t continue for a moment, reading the look of regret on her face. She smiled at him, almost exhausted, praying that he wouldn’t ask her to discuss it further.

“What about the boys at school, did they torment you?”

“All the time, I got used to it.”

“How bad did it get?”

“One time they cornered me late at night, held a knife to my throat and dragged me to the window. They wanted me to admit I was a whore, that I was sleeping with our instructors. I wouldn’t say it though, they threatened me for what seemed like hours, pushing me just a little too far before yanking me back inside, letting my feet slip against the windowsill. They wanted me to beg and scream for help.”

“Did you say it?”

“No.”

“And what happened?”

“They dropped me. I thought I was as good as dead, but I refused to scream, even on the way down. I hit a snow drift and walked away unscathed. They thought I would leave that night so I am pleased to say they were shocked to see me walk in the next day ready to fight.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“If I had told someone they would know exactly who shoved him down the stairs two nights later. His nose is still busted, well was.”

“Was?”

“He was one of the lucky fellows who tried to get rid of me before you came along. He’s the only one it was a pleasure to kill.”

“How many did you kill?”

“Five.” Geralt clenched his fists, she had killed five witchers, more than any monster or mage could claim and he was allowing her to live. Why was he letting her live? “Any other questions?”

“How did you feel when you killed them?”

“Terrible. I buried them, gave each of them a proper burial, except my tormentor of course. I tried to get them to leave me alone, to leave but they just wouldn’t go away. I begged them yknow, pleaded while they tried to kill me. I just wanted to be free but they saw nothing but my blood on their silver bladed sword. Until you came along of course.” He stayed silent, watching her shifting in her bindings.

“Why don’t you want to be a witcher?”

“It was an accident I became one, a curse from God. I should have died, they were willing to let me die. I’m not going to come close to death because of them ever again, not the school, the King, or God himself can make me.”

“What about me.” She glanced at him and grinned but said nothing. He reached over and sliced her bindings with the knife she had stabbed him with the day prior. “Don’t run off, we’re heading towards the moors tomorrow.”

 She was gone the next morning.

Taglist: @stuckupstucky​ @aurora-sweet​ @holyhumorliteraturelight​ @dreams-of-sunlight-and-starfire​

[morganaspendragonss]

someday, i’ll breathe again

prompted by @mimierose, idea by @theworld-is-out-there. thanks guys, so sorry it took me so long to write! i hope you both like it!

A shout from above grabs their attention, followed by the pounding of feet coming down the stairs towards them. TK’s able to shove Mateo out of the way, but the guy forcefully collides with him as he goes past, his momentum knocking TK off balance and sending him tumbling down the stairs to the landing below.

He lands hard, stars exploding in his vision, the pain in his head masking the sharp sting in his arm.

ao3 | 2.1k | warning for references to needles and past addiction - this is not a relapse fic

The ambulance arrives at the scene just behind the truck, and TK grins when he climbs out, spotting Carlos already deep in conversation with his dad. Nancy hits him as she walks past, any initial reservations she’d had about him joining their team long since forgotten.

“Head out of the bedroom, Strand,” she says, rolling her eyes at his show of offence. 

“I’ll have you know my head wasn’t even close to the bedroom,” he protests, following her to the back of the ambulance. It’s not even a lie; he’d actually just been thinking about how much he was looking forward to their movie night later. They haven’t spent much time together properly in a while, shifts rarely lining up, both of them too tired to do much more than sleep when they do.

Becoming a paramedic has meant that some of the danger has gone out of TK’s job, but the workload has increased more than he realised it would. Medical get far more calls than fire in a day, and much as TK loves it, he can’t deny the bone-deep exhaustion at the end of most shifts.

He wouldn’t trade it, though, not for the world.

Nancy sends him a withering look, but she doesn’t get a chance to respond before Tommy’s striding back over to them, having consulted with his dad.

“What are we looking at, Cap?” he asks.

“PD needs some help clearing the building,” she responds. “It’s due to be demolished in a couple of weeks, but there have been some reports of squatters, gangs, local kids, hanging around. They want to make sure everyone’s out, and they want medical on standby just in case. Ordinarily, we’d wait out here, as you know, but Captain Strand and I have agreed that it would be more efficient and useful to have you inside. There might be people in there who don’t have the time to wait to be carried out.”

TK grimaces, hearing Tommy’s implications loud and clear. Her gaze flicks over to him, but she doesn’t comment, and TK tries to pull himself together as she continues laying out the plan.

“We’ll be going in in teams of three - two firefighters, one paramedic. TK, you’re with Judd and Mateo; Nancy, you’re with Marjan and Paul. Captain Strand and I will be waiting out here - keep us updated.”

“Yes, Cap.”

He and Nancy nod, turning to gather supplies into their medical bags. They work silently and efficiently; TK had been surprised by how easy it was to fall into a natural rhythm with his new team, but it feels normal now, like he’s been doing it forever.

Tommy takes his arm before they join the others, pulling him to one side. “You good to do this, Strand?” she asks, voice firm but caring. TK appreciates the thought - he’d told her about his history during his interview in case she wanted to think twice about hiring him - but he knows that he can do this.

He nods, adjusting the strap on his bag. “Yes. I’m good, Cap.”

She smiles. “Good. Now, go, and both of you be safe.”

TK jogs over to the others, arriving just in time to hear Nancy bemoaning him and his distinct lack of driving skill to Marjan.

“That’s so rude, Gillian,” he protests. “I’ll have you know I used to navigate New York traffic and never once got in an accident.”

“And yet you can’t take the ambulance more than five yards without threatening to crash it.”

“I’m surprised he can get it that far,” Judd puts in, which TK thinks is wholly unnecessary. It’s not his fault that the firetruck is totally unmaneuverable, or that the ambulance is only barely better. 

He opens his mouth to tell Judd this, but his dad chooses this moment to call them to attention, so he’s forced to settle for a glare directed at the back of Judd’s head.

“You’ll take alternating floors,” Owen tells them. “Judd, Mateo, TK - start on the ground, work your way up through the even numbered levels. Paul, Marjan, Nancy - the same, starting on one and doing the odd floors. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Cap.”

“Good.” Owen looks round at them all, eyes seeming to linger on TK for the briefest second longer. “The structure seems stable, but stay alert. We don’t know what you’re gonna find in there, and I’d like to avoid any injuries. Police will be around for back up if you need them. Good luck.”

They spring into action, heading towards the building as a unit, and TK has to admit that he’s missed this. Doing rescues with the team, adrenaline pumping through his veins, never quite sure what’s going to happen from one moment to the next. 

He sticks to the back of their little group, letting Judd and Mateo go ahead of him as they sweep the ground floor. There’s no-one there so they move onto the next level, TK’s nose wrinkling as the smell gets worse the higher up they go. They work without speaking, for the most part, though judging by the numerous backward glances Mateo keeps sending him, TK suspects that it won’t last.

Sure enough, as they’re moving from the fourth floor to the sixth - their last but one target - Mateo falls into step with him.

“It’s been weird since you became a paramedic.”

Ahead of them, Judd groans. “Here we go again.”

“What?” Mateo protests. “It has.”

TK looks between them, curious. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just weird that you’re not on call with us anymore,” he says, shrugging.

“I am literally on call with you right now, Mateo.”

“Yeah, but not with us,” Mateo sighs. “And it’s not like you’re at every call, and you don’t do rescues, and you ride in the ambulance now. I know that this is what you want to do, and that’s really cool, seriously, but it’s just -”

“Weird,” TK finishes, laughing a little. He nudges Mateo with his shoulder. “I get it. It’s been weird for me, too.”

“Really?” He seems surprised, looking over at TK with wide eyes. TK sends him a wry smile.

“Really,” he says. “But -”

A shout from above grabs their attention, followed by the pounding of feet coming down the stairs towards them. The guy - a squatter, more than likely - freezes when he catches sight of them, but only briefly, before continuing to barrel down to them. TK’s able to shove Mateo out of the way, but the guy forcefully collides with him as he goes past, his momentum knocking TK off balance and sending him tumbling down the stairs to the landing below.

He groans, vision swimming as he attempts to push himself upright. His bag is lying a couple of feet away, contents spilling everywhere, and the thought crosses his mind that Captain Vega’s going to be pissed if he loses anything. He tries to get to his feet to collect it all, but the pounding in his head quickly informs him that’s not happening any time soon. 

Judd and Mateo’s faces appear in front of him, their mouths moving but no words coming out. Or… That’s not right. TK focuses as best he can, trying to blink some of the haziness from his mind.

Eventually, their voices reach him, as though underwater. “You with us, brother?” Judd asks, worry evident in his tone.

TK nods, then instantly regrets it as another wave of dizziness washes over him. Hands grasp his shoulders, pulling him up to rest against the wall, and it’s then that he notices a sharp sting in his right arm. He must have cut it on something, which isn’t ideal, given how dirty everything is here.

“Alright,” Judd says, his voice clearer this time. “I’m gonna need you to focus up for me, okay? You’re the paramedic here; you’ve gotta tell us what to do.”

TK huffs a small laugh, closing his eyes and taking a moment to clear the fuzz in his brain. “Definitely have a concussion,” he mutters. “Must have hit my head on the way down.”

He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, but he can feel Judd’s eye roll. “Yeah, no shit. It don’t look too bad, though; you’ve got a bit of a scrape on your cheek, but it seems fine. Hurt anywhere else?”

TK hums, doing a mental check. His entire body aches in some capacity, and he’s probably going to be bruised as hell tomorrow, but his cut is the only other injury he can detect. “Arm,” he says. “Think I cut it on something. Glass, maybe?”

Judd pushes his sleeve up, then sucks in a sharp breath. “Aw, shit, kid,” he murmurs, and TK gets the distinct impression he wasn’t meant to hear that. “Probie, let the captains know? Then go join the others; tell them they’ll have to finish the rest of the building themselves.”

TK frowns, forcing his eyes open. Mateo’s moved too far away for him to hear whatever he’s radioing in, so he turns to Judd instead, panic flaring at the pained look in his eyes. “What? What’s going on?”

Judd hesitates. “That wasn’t, um. That wasn’t glass you landed on, kid.” He shifts, carefully picking something up from the floor, pursing his lips before holding it up for TK to see.

A needle.

All the air feels like it’s sucked out of the room, a band tightening around his chest as his eyes blow wide, fixating on the object in front of him. His heart is racing and his thoughts are scrambled in a way that has nothing to do with the concussion because he just landed on a needle, oh god.

And TK had never been one for any of that stuff, not like some of his friends at the time were, but sober is sober, and he can’t lose that, he can’t, he won’t -

“You haven’t, okay? Just breathe, brother, that’s it. Breathe.”

Judd’s words reach him from far away. TK wants to comply, but his body doesn’t feel like his own, and his shaking fingers scrabble frantically at his uniform collar, the choking sensation only getting worse. A distant noise lets him know that Judd is still talking, and TK tries to latch onto that, leaning into the solid and grounding presence at his side.

Slowly, the panic starts to subside. He still feels on edge, weak and shaky, but he can breathe again, which counts for something.

“Sorry,” he gasps out when he’s able.

Judd’s mouth twists into a grimace. “None of that, now. You okay?”

TK nods, though he doubts it’s very convincing. “I will be,” he amends. “Give me a minute.”

At that moment, Judd’s radio crackles to life. “Ryder, what’s your status?” his dad’s voice says, very carefully professional.

Judd looks over to him. “Think you can stand?”

At TK’s nod, he grasps his radio. “Me and TK are on our way out, Cap,” he reports. “Be with you in a few.”

“Copy that.”

TK groans, taking a shaking breath before planting his hands on the floor, attempting to heave himself upright. He makes it to a half-crouch before his balance gives out, and it’s only Judd’s reflexes that save him from face planting the ground again.

“Jesus, TK,” Judd sighs. “Let me help you.”

His tone leaves no room for argument - not that TK could put up much of a fight at the moment if he tried. He leans his weight on Judd, letting him do most of the work to get them down the stairs and out of the building.

“Sorry for freaking out on you,” he murmurs. “I just…”

“I know, kid,” Judd says softly. “You’re alright, though.”

TK doesn’t say anything, not entirely convinced that Judd is right, but comforted by the sentiment anyway. It’s not until they’re nearing the ground floor that he realises something else, and it’s almost enough to make him want to turn back.

“This is going to be so embarrassing.”

Judd frowns. “What?”

He points between his head and his arm with his good hand. “I’m going to have to go to hospital to get these checked out.” He sighs. “A paramedic needing a ride in his own ambulance. I’m never going to live this down.”

Judd laughs, long and loud, and it’s enough to make a smile tug at TK’s own lips. “You’re something else, kid,” he says, gently ruffling TK’s hair.

TK grumbles and bats him away, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s never been more thankful for Judd, truth be told, and he knows he can trust him to understand. And as they head outside, TK starts to believe that maybe Judd was right after all. 

They’ll be alright, in the end.

[eagles-translated]

Answering Eagles questions before the season 3 finale (Part 2/2)

I've received a bunch of questions since 3x08 and 3x09 dropped, so I compiled all the questions into two posts. I had to split them up because Tumblr only allows 10 images per post. Anyway, keep reading to see my answers and enjoy! 👇

There might be some kind of collaboration between Amie and Ludde like last season—we have only heard snippets of Ludde's song submission to the music school and it wouldn't surprise me if we saw Amie perform the song in its entirety in the last episode. I touched on this a little in part 1 of answering these questions.

It seems like Amie singing at the end of the season has become kind of a recurring theme. She performed “Follow” in 1x08 and “Second Sight” in 2x10 (on the radio, but my point still stands). I wouldn’t be surprised if they followed this trend by having Amie perform a new song in the season 3 finale.

I'm not sure if she'll recommend Ludde to the record label, though. I honestly still feel like Amie's whole storyline with sending in a rather basic demo written by two teenagers with little to no experience and then getting praised on it with comments such as "it's going to be a real summer hit" felt so unrealistic to me. Maybe they only said that so Amie would accept their offer or something, but that's still very strange because she would have still said yes without a doubt.

I can understand that they thought Amie was marketable as a person and there was this bonus with her having gone viral before on Felicia's Instagram, but that demo did not seem good enough for me to be immediately released as a single and then have them decide on the spot that Amie would be given a contract.

I mean, come on. It never felt earned because we never really saw Amie struggling with her songwriting journey to achieve this dream. Sending in one demo to one record label and having them immediately want to make a whole album with you just doesn't happen in real life unless the song is extremely good or you have a very unique voice. Amie is really talented but there are hundreds of people just like her, if not thousands. I was never convinced by her getting signed so quickly in season 2.

I understand that they wanted to establish her as a successful artist, but that felt so rushed. I was so sure that the record label would screw her over and steal the song rights to record it with another artist who was already established, and that we'd have to see Amie work even harder to achieve her dreams. But we didn't get that at all. Where was the struggle?

Anyway, I'm getting a little off-topic here. To be honest I have a lot of problems with the writing sometimes, even if I still love the show and its characters. Of course I wanted to see Amie achieve success (and I was happy when she did), but the journey there was so bizarrely easy.

She didn't start to seriously work on making her music career become a reality until season 2. Amie had dabbled in music prior to that, like when she auditioned for the school band and did that performance of Follow, but she didn't truly start to work towards it until season 2 when she decided to have her work sent to professionals in the business. And then, just five episodes later, she gets contacted by the record label in Stockholm.

To put this into context—season 2 took place somewhere around March, and episode 5 around three weeks into April. So when Ludde first started helping Amie it took less than two months for her to get signed. You could argue that the song was just that good or that Amie is just that talented, but it never felt like a realistic storyline to me.

So, back to your question! I need to stop getting so sidetracked while answering these haha. I don't think it would be realistic for the record label to hire a teenager with no professional songwriting experience, likely a very small portfolio of his own work in both size and variety, having a criminal record, and on top of that being infamous in the press for abusing his ex-girlfriend. If Amie offered the ultimatum to her label that she'll only return with Ludde, who has an incredibly bad reputation right now, it feels like she would be running the risk of losing the contract entirely.

There's only so much her label can put up with. We've seen Amie ignore their calls with no intention of reassuring them that she's coming back soon. Honestly, with the way things are looking right now it makes the most sense for the contract to be dropped. By Amie or by the label, I don't know.

The episode description for the season finale says that Ludde will get some sort of justice and it could be about his music (or something related to whatever Andreas is doing).

I believe Amie will be doing a live performance of Ludde's song at a New Year's Eve party in episode 10 but I doubt that Ludde will be picked up as a producer. If he actually does I would find that to be a very unrealistic plot point, to be completely honest with you.

This is an issue I had with 3x08 and 3x09 as well. I had a hard time actually enjoying the moment between Felicia, Klara, and Amie knowing that her family was getting increasingly worried for her and even thought for a short moment that Felicia was lying dead at the bottom of the ocean. All that could've been avoided.

To add, it didn't make a lot of sense to me that when Klara finally decided to call someone she called Amie instead of Elias. An ex-friend of Felicia's instead of her brother who could've helped a lot more. What was Amie supposed to do when she showed up at the hotel, exactly?

I know there was the thing with Klara only knowing Amie's number off the top of her head, but there is no reason why she couldn't have gone down to the reception while Felicia was sleeping and asked to use a computer just to get a quick message to Elias. Like, "hey, Felicia attempted something bad but she's safe with me, we're at this hotel in this room but she didn't want me to call anybody, I don't know what to do". That would've been so much better than keeping quiet about the situation for nearly 24 hours.

I know that Klara probably has trauma from leaving her dad at the hospital after his suicide attempt and that she probably didn't want to go against Felicia's wishes. I understand the first part 100%. But Felicia was in a very bad place emotionally and was thinking that her whole family hated her when that wasn't the case. I feel like in a situation like that you kind of have to be the bad guy just to ensure the family that Felicia was safe. Even if everything turned out alright in the end, it could've gone so much worse if Felicia had wanted to be kept hidden for longer.

The ending of 3x08 was super tough to watch and I can't imagine the feeling of thinking your only daughter/sister drowned herself after you just yelled at her and showed no support. Klara couldn't have known any of this, but I feel like she should've at least contacted Elias if she wasn't taking Felicia to a hospital.

Elias calling Amie would've been an easy solution to this whole debacle but we would've lost the drama. It's still somewhat of a plot hole though, like you said.

Thank you for reading that whole post @detectivejulesohara!

The clip you're referring to was posted on Yandeh Sallah's Instagram account, so not in a trailer for this season.

I think that was either just fanservice or it will appear in season 4 since it was posted in May of this year, and I believe the filming of season 3 had already wrapped by then.

It might indicate that Elias and Amie will be a couple by season 4 (this actually seems very likely regardless if this is actually part of a scene or not).

I think Elias is getting increasingly frustrated with hockey and the fact that he doesn't really have any other ambitions to strive for. He was raised with nothing but hockey surrounding him and it's in his blood. Elias got drafted to the US at around the same age as Mats, but Elias left after a year because he just wasn't progressing.

That must feel like a huge step back, and on top of that Mats was probably thriving in his successful career around the age that Elias is now. It's a tough difference in success to have weighing on your shoulders when you're in a team that's second to last in the rankings.

There's even the accusation in the press that Mats paid for Elias to advance in the rankings, and I'm sure that's going to affect his career negatively.

I think Elias overworking himself could also be the result of him feeling like he has to prove that returning to Eagles—a small club that is probably having their worst season ever—was in fact the right choice and not the death of his elite hockey career. That choice was very questionable from the very start and his agent advised against it. Even Mats found it strange. Elias said that he didn't really have a choice most likely because of the clause in his contract, but then he also claims to Mats that things just turned out that way.

Ludde: You don’t regret coming back [to Eagles]? Elias: I didn’t really have a choice.

The idea that he didn't have a choice in the matter doesn't seem accurate. His agent told him there were other alternatives like Jokerit (a professional ice hockey team based in Helsinki, Finland) and that they could find something better than Eagles. Elias seemed kind of defeated already and the decision to return to Eagles didn't feel thought-through at all. It's almost like he just didn't care.

Agent: [...] Jokerit has called and I’ve had a great conversation with them, so they’re on. Elias: You know what? Let’s skip all the trouble. Let’s go with Eagles, it’ll be great. Agent: What? Elias: I’m so tired of moving all the time anyway, plus I’ll be close to my family. Agent: Wait, I thought that you— Eagles has big economical problems, and… Sorry, but their season started awfully. We can get a better team. You understand, right? Elias: Yeah, but we can’t get a team that needs me as much. Plus— If they say they want to see development, I’ll give them that. Agent: Wait— They’re under the line. We’re talking about qualifying down directly. You can’t in earnest believe you’ll change that on your own. Elias: It’s perfect. I’ll only go up, as you like to say.

It also seems like he's maybe realizing that hockey isn't everything and that there are other things he might want to explore and pursue in his life. I think Elias is feeling kind of stuck right now. He's been training his whole life for one purpose which is a professional career in hockey, and maybe he feels like Mats wouldn't allow him to quit. That option doesn't exist to him.

Like you said, Mats had that comment where he labeled Ludde a "quitter" and Elias stressed the fact that there shouldn't be anything wrong with losing interest and deciding to pursue something else.

Mats: Can you imagine that he’s just quitting? I mean, I’m completely— He really didn’t strike me as a quitter. So fucking close. [...] Elias: [...] Ludde, he’s… He’s not a quitter, he’s just didn’t want it anymore. That should be fair.

However, quitting is seen as failure to Mats. Mats dropped everything when he got drafted. He left his relationship with Petra seemingly without a second thought, because hockey comes before everything for Mats. Felicia even mentioned back in season 1 how her father was just a voice in a telephone for most of her childhood. He barely had any presence in her life because he was busy with hockey.

When Klara tells Elias that he's always putting hockey first, he gets angry but he doesn't outright deny it. In fact, he kind of changes the subject to shift attention away from Klara's claim.

Klara: This— You haven’t changed at all. You’re always putting yourself first. Elias: Excuse me? Klara: Yes, it’s either you or hockey. Elias: Stop! What the— Klara: I can’t take this. Elias: Are you leaving now? I wasn’t the only one you dumped. You’ve been acting like shit to Felicia. Yeah, and Amie and Ludde too, for that matter. You haven’t thought about that? So don’t come here and say I’m the egoist.

This is kind of an interesting thought—that maybe Elias subconsciously knew that was Klara is saying is true to some degree and that he has been putting hockey first. He decided to get on the train to the draft combine in Seattle instead of staying with Klara, and a year later he realizes that things didn't turn out the way that he'd planned and he returns to Eagles.

Maybe Elias is trying so hard to be someone who he just isn't, and it's affecting so many aspects of his life negatively. He lost Klara, he had to repeat almost his whole last year in high school because of moving to the US, and now he seems to be stuck in Oskarshamn. He's previously expressed to Amie that this isn't necessarily where he wanted to end up.

Elias: [...] Hey, is it just me or is there something about this town that… It sort of feels like no matter how much you try to get away, it… It pulls you back somehow.

It's kind of strange that he doesn't want to be in Oskarshamn, and yet he was the one who chose to return. Maybe he somehow feels like he has some purpose there because it keeps pulling him back. He just doesn't know what that purpose is.

Elias tried coming back to Eagles to turn things around for them, and they did win a game against the Capitals but that victory was later tarnished by the fight that broke out between the two teams (and to add to this, the loss of Ludde who used to be one of the star players and Klara as a sponsor). That kind of overshadowed their whole victory. Elias was very determined to do something to help and it very much feels like he needs Eagles to succeed—he needs to sort of "redeem" himself.

Elias: [...] Can I do anything? Can I go talk to— I could go talk to the sponsor. Mats: Let’s deal with it later. I’ll solve this. You have to go to school now. Elias: But we can finish talking— Mats: You can— No. Try to think of something else. Alright?

I think that Elias's desperation for Eagles to do well could absolutely lead to him eventually deciding to be a coach. He doesn't really seem to want the life that Mats had after seeing how success turned out for him—a broken family that he barely cares about because hockey occupies his mind more than caring for his children or repairing the relationship with Leila.

I think Elias being a hockey coach could suit him, but I would also love to see him exploring things outside of hockey—maybe even his interests outside of sport entirely.

I kind of agree with you on this. Klara has apologized to Felicia and been forgiven, but we've never seen her properly apologize to Amie for filming that video of her and posting it on social media. Amie and Ludde were in the wrong, yes, but that video being posted was humiliating for both of them. They had to deal with the ramifications of that for months after with the whole school judging them in silence.

To be fair, the video was posted a long time ago in the show's time frame (nearly two years ago if I'm right?) and they all kind of moved on from it. To add to this, maybe she felt it would've been kind of awkward to apologize with Felicia in the room.

Felicia was so hurt by that video being posted and I think it would feel very weird for her that Klara would apologize for posting the video when it's the sole reason Felicia found out what had been done to her. Without that video, she would've probably gone a few more months without being told what happened at the Halloween party.

I'm waiting for a Klara and Amie reconciliation in this season finale. I feel like this is something that should be discussed between just the two of them, and maybe they'll sneak in some blessing from Klara with the whole budding Elias and Amie relationship? I'd be happy with just a reconciliation, though, but I'm unsure if we'll get one. I have a feeling they'll start the season finale with a time jump and I don't know if Klara is even going to be in Oskarshamn by that time.

If we don't see them reconnecting in the season finale I will be pretty disappointed, to be honest.

Thank you! I really appreciate you too @lunawedlers (your gifsets are absolutely magical)!

This question was sent in a while ago but as season 3 had just started airing I was very excited to see the development of Elias and Amie, mostly because the director had been hinting on Twitter that something would happen between them this season. I've been really interested in them ever since 1x03 and so far the wait has been worth it.

I think all episodes have great visuals, but if I had to pick one I would probably say 3x06. All those shots of Elias and Amie on the walk through the park, the drone shots, and then the view from that bench spot were so gorgeous visually. That answer is more of a scene rather than a whole episode haha, but I think they really made the beauty of Oskarshamn stand out in those shots.

I think Amie will have some sort of performance in the final episode of a new song and that Elias will be watching her! After reading the episode description for the final episode and seeing that there will probably be some New Year's Eve party going on, I have a feeling that Amie will be performing. She's always had a performance of a new song in every season finale and this one should be no exception.

They tricked us a little in the season 3 trailer with us thinking that Elias would be at one of Amie's concerts in Stockholm, but now I'm sure that this scene fits in at the New Year's Eve party.

I think we should keep our expectations low for a kiss between Elias and Amie. They just started developing their relationship, and I like the slow pace they're going in. They're not rushing anything. I also have this feeling that their development has deliberately been so slow because they're sort of "saving the best for last".

Elias and Amie are fan favorites and their relationship has been very talked-about from the beginning. I can see the writers maybe having decided to push their relationship more towards the end of the show, which is why we haven't really gotten any Elias and Amie content until now. That's frustrating if you're impatient and I've seen some people thinking that maybe Elias and Amie won't happen at all, but I don't think we need to worry at all. The fact that Elias and Amie's development has been so slow should indicate that they're much more likely to be endgame.

A kiss in episode 10 could definitely happen, but I don't know. Maybe they'll drag it out further. As I've said before, if they don't get one in season 3 they will absolutely be getting one in season 4. I've noticed that it's always best to keep your expectations low when it comes to this couple.

The episode description for the season finale said this about Elias, which some have interpreted to be about Amie.

New Year’s Eve is here. [...] But is Elias brave enough to say what everyone else already knows?

This could mean anything, really. I'm actually leaning more towards this being about an individual thing rather than Amie being involved. It could be about Elias admitting that he's been overworking himself and not eating properly, or coming clean about the fact that maybe he doesn't want a career in hockey. This is something that everyone else already knows, so I think it might be about hockey.

Felicia has observed the overworking, Mats has told him to stop with it, and Ludde might've had some inkling about it while he was still on the team. Even Amie has probably also noticed that he's been spending a lot of time at the gym lately.

I could absolutely be wrong about this though.

Thank you for the question @lunawedlers!

This is a hard one because season 3 has had so many strong episodes already, and usually my favorite episode ends up being the season finale because it's basically the culmination of the whole season. I really loved 2x10 for this very reason since the ending montage was so well done.

If I had to pick between 3x01 - 3x09 though I would probably have to say it's a tie between 3x04 — Date night and 3x05 — Wounds! These two episodes showcased what Eagles should be all about so well, which is relationships plus the struggles you go through as a teenager in a small town, and then of course hockey. The hockey game episodes are really good, even if I don't think 3x05 topped 2x05 (the game where Ludde got tackled and knocked out).

I loved the contrast in Date night of the budding relationship between Elias and Amie and then that fight between Felicia and Ludde on the cliff. That whole scene between Felicia and Ludde on the cliff was actually really beautiful, especially when the sun had gone down.

It was interesting to see how this sweet gesture from Felicia turned into a fight between the two of them. I thought that was very realistic, because no matter how big of a gesture Felicia made to apologize there were still underlying problems that they needed to talk about.

I also loved the "non-date" between Elias and Amie in this episode. It was cute to see them goofing off before the movie started and then talking about it on the way home. I liked how Elias could connect to her on how they had both returned to Oskarshamn.

The recent episodes that dropped last week (3x08 and 3x09) were very strong and discussed some important subject matters, but I had a few problems with them that I discussed in a question above. They were dark, but not necessarily bad because they needed to happen.

However, I have to say that I prefer Eagles when it's about hockey and teenage relationships. 3x04 and 3x05 made me kind of nostalgic for season 1 and I liked the vibe they both had.

I agree, but I think we could maybe get a combination of both! Relationships can have all these romantic and sweet traits like you described, but also be more passionate and show public displays of affection.

I think Elias and Amie fit the more laid-back and sweet characteristics, but we have yet to really see what Amie is like in a relationship. We've seen her with a crush on Ludde and we got a glimpse of that thing she had with Robin (which was apparently a relationship but I did not pick up on that at all), but we don't really know what Amie is like in a relationship. Maybe she's never really had a "real" one, either.

Nevertheless, I'm excited to see what's in store for Elias and Amie. I'm very positive that they will eventually become a couple in season 4.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Snowdrifts ch.7 (spicyhoney)

Summary:   Uncle Red is always up for babysitting, but is pitting Red against baby Snow the wisest choice?

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Rescued Child, Babybones, First Time Parenthood, Idiots to Lovers

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

No matter what the boss thought, Red couldn't actually read anybody's mind. Not that he minded keeping up the illusion, nah, that was pretty fucking useful and back in Underfell, his bro wasn't the only person mostly convinced that Red was able to look right into the dirtiest corners of their mind and see what dust bunnies were lying around.

It was a perk he was gonna miss, at least for a little while. Shouldn’t be hard to get reestablished around these parts, hell, prolly a lot easier. His bro might be having some regrets about abandoning the old place, but Red was more’n happy to set up as a cuckoo in their shiny new nest. The rubes in this ‘verse were ripe for a little mystery and already the gossip was flying about the kid, where she was from and who played incubator. Smart money was on his bro as mama; word around town was that Stretch’s slutty ways took a downward trend a few months back and everyone was real damn interested in seeing who the local bird went cold turkey for.

Red gave ‘em a week before the locals started showing up with casseroles and curiosity. Never underestimate boredom and a hearty rumor mill when making plans. Red never did and he would bet good money he’d have the folks in this Snowdin watching him with awe and suspicion in no time.

Well, more than they already were.

Except Muffet but that didn't surprise him none. Multiverse theory could go hang, he figured she was gonna be a sharp slice of cheddar no matter what world she was from. ‘Least if this one was gonna suck you dry it only meant your wallet. Gal had an eye for talent, he’d give her that, hired him on right away, and Red was looking forward to a long, mutually benefitting relationship.

Anyway, mind reading, eh, not so much. What Red had was a carefully cultivated skill in knowing when people were carrying around a steaming load of bullshit. He'd been learning that knack since he was in short pants even if his pants only got wider over the years, not longer, and right now, there was a week-old baby bones trying to convince him her little soul was gonna break if she didn’t have her daddy close by to lug her around.

Kid was putting on a hell of a show. Lying on her back in a pile of blankets on the living room floor that was also Red’s part-time bedroom, feet kicking up a storm and her little hands clenched in fists that she waved like a prizefighter. Fat tears were rolling down her chunker cheekbones as she howled, awful loud for someone without a set of lungs. Kid was pissed, sure, but pissed ain’t hurt and Red might’ve been kinda impressed by her tenacity if it weren’t for the simple fact that his bro needed some rest. Here they were in marshmallow world with two extra bods helping foot the bill and his bro was still exhausting himself trying to do everything. Difference was, here Red had Stretch running interference and between the two of them, they’d shake the ants out of his brother’s pants.

‘Course, Stretch had a different way of doing it and there was a thought Red wasn’t gonna examine too close. His baby bro’s pants and Stretch could do whatever they wanted out of his line of sight.

Only problem was, the two of them were only upstairs. Kid was getting pretty loud and Red scooped her up into his lap, giving her a gentle bounce. “gonna have to do better than that, snowmonster,” Red told her. “i survived my bro and he’s an expert pain in the ass.”

The wails paused as his voice caught the baby’s attention. Snow goggled at him her mouth still open, and after a moment the cries began again, this time with an uncertain waver.

“nope, try again.” He propped his chin in his hand. "you got my bro fooled, but i ain't the gullible type. might try a little sweettalking, sweetheart.”

A short, shrill cry only got her a chuckle. "sorry, honey, it ain't gonna work on me."

The tears dried up pretty damn fast without someone to break down the dam. Kid hadn’t quite given up yet, Underfell tenacity must be built-in from creation. She gurgled out a pleading cry, her tiny hands reaching for Red’s face. He let her pat his cheekbones, wincing at a particularly firm little slap.

He took the offending hand and gave it a loud kiss, earning a smile for his troubles. "nah, your daddy bears are tired, kiddo, they need a nap. you got 'em both dancing like popcorn on a hot plate, not bad for your first trick."

Hm, daddy? Paps hadn't been too clear on that yet, and fuck them all anyway for renaming his little brother Edge, keerist, might as well name him Gloomy Ass Kissy Pants. Already took himself too fucking serious as it was.

Eh, that probably wasn’t gonna change, Red didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that; he’d been that way since he was about the size of this one, and someday he was gonna show Stretch the pics that were saved on his phone of his lil bro back when he was little. Might have to wait until they were more settled in for that, though.

He’d give it a week.

Red looked down at the baby in his arms, her wide, pale eye lights gazing back up at him. Always watching, this one, learning, figuring things out. When she learned how to crawl, she was gonna be an ever-fucking nightmare for his bro, exactly how Paps had been ever since the very instant he got mobile. Kid hadn’t stopped since.

Red couldn’t wait. Payback really was a bitch and this bitch was gonna slap it right on his little brother’s ass.

“tell you what,” Red told her, “let’s get you a snack, kiddo, and see what other toys the mutts brought over for you, how about that?”

Kid was clearly disgruntled, but she accepted the bottle when Red handed it over, suckling noisily. Red dug into the bag that was still in the corner. Blocks were well and good, but he’d bet there was something in all this junk that made some real noise.

~~*~~

Despite his brother's innuendo when he’d shooed the two of them upstairs for a nap before another night of baby-watching began, there was nothing sexual going on in the bedroom and for that, Edge was guiltily grateful. He would admit to being exhausted, his first day as a caretaker left him as weary as if he’d spent a day running the traplines, and if Stretch had given any indication at all that he was interested in sex, Edge would have been torn over his response.

The answer was a difficult one. On one hand, Stretch had been utterly appalled even a hint of the idea that Edge might pay some of the debt he owed the Swap brothers in that fashion, but on the other, Edge did feel some sense of obligation to Stretch that made him reluctant to beg off. Best not to say that aloud, it wasn't a difficult guess that the very notion would upset Stretch a great deal.

There was also the fact that they'd been sleeping together for some months now, anything at this point would have a diminished value.

Not that it mattered in this situation. Stretch didn’t give any indication that he was hoping for anything past a solid eight hours of putting the mattress to its more traditional use and barring that, at least a couple hours of decent rest.

Still, Edge couldn’t help teasing, “Are you sure you want to use our time to sleep? My brother seemed to think we could make other use of it.”

There was a tiny sprinkle of bright freckles across Stretch’s nasal nodule and Edge could privately admit that the way they scrunched together when his face twisted was rather adorable.

"baby, you know i'm always up for it," Stretch grimaced. "but i don't think i can get it up right now. unless you want to drive…?"

Tempting as the idea of being inside Stretch was, whatever desire the image managed to rouse was closer to a wet firecracker than a spark. "To be honest, I think I'd rather nap," Edge confessed. If he even could, through the closed door he could hear Snow’s wails and it was only his brother’s firm edict that they were not to come back downstairs for at least two hours that was keeping him in this room at all. The penalty for disobeying a direct order from Red was not usually a subtle revenge and Edge didn’t care to see what sort of creativity his brother might come up with in new surroundings.

"nap it is then." Stretch scrambled into the bed, sprawling across the mattress. He turned back to Edge, both arms spread wide, "since we ain’t taking off, you may as well come on in for a landing!"

Edge rolled his eye lights but crawled in with him. Stretch squawked as Edge firmly rolled him over on his side and snugged up behind him. He murmured against the smooth, sensitive bone at the base of Stretch’s skull. "I believe it's my turn to be the big spoon."

The way Stretch shifted against him nearly made him rethink his urge for sleep. Stretch laughed, a touch unsteadily, "sweetheart, you can handle my silverware anytime you like. after a nap."

After a nap, yes. The crying from downstairs had petered out and Edge pulled the blankets over them both and settled in. Napping was still unfamiliar to him and he didn't sleep so much as drift, resting in the fog of exhaustion. That alone was an unaccustomed pleasure and there was no telling how long he drifted before he resurfaced to unexpected movement.

The faint shudder of Stretch in his arms didn't wake him so much as nudge him from that fog and the loss left him disoriented and surly. Edge pushed up on an elbow, frowning down at the other skeleton and his irritation faded as he caught his breath at what he saw.

Stretch was crying. He was curled up on the mattress, still sleeping while tears seeped from his closed sockets and left wet trails down his cheekbones. His breath was clotted with the quiet sobs racking him and without the pressure of Edge’s arm holding him down, he curled up tighter into a fetal ball, his long legs drawn up against his skinny ribcage as he wept at whatever his dreams were showing him.

No amount of rest was worth this kind of pain and Edge gave him a gentle shake, saying softly, "Stretch? Stretch, wake up."

He did not anticipate Stretch lurching up and scrambling away from him, his joints lit with magic and his eye lights flaring wildly as he flung both hands out as if to ward him away, brilliant orange engulfing his fingertips like candle flames.

Edge kept still, waiting for the dregs of sleep to clear away. Long experience with his brother’s occasional bad turns at night had taught him that while his HP could easily survive an attack, the guilt that followed was always so much worse.

Sure enough, recognition slowly filled Stretch’s gaze, followed almost immediately by horror. Stretch sank back against the wall with a heartfelt groan, the flames of his magic extinguishing as he buried his face into his hands. "fuck, i am so sorry."

"If I don't need to thank you for all you’ve done, then you don't owe me any apologies for this. Come here?" Edge held his arms open in gentle offering and after a moment, Stretch did, crawling back into his arms. His bones were chilled, clacking against Edge's as he shivered, and Edge tucked the blankets back around them both.

"There we are," Edge said, as softly as he would have to Snow. He set his chin on the top of Stretch’s skull, careful not to let it dig in painfully. "Was it a bad dream?"

"more like a memory." Stretch shifted against him, his cheekbone pressed to Edge's sternum. He did not look up as he asked softly. "do you remember anything about the lab?"

"Only from recently,” Edge admitted, “not as a child. My brother doesn't talk about it much, but I do know I wasn't there for more than a couple days before he fled with me in tow."

"yeah." Stretch said nothing else, no commiseration, and Edge did not ask it of him. He didn't need to press for an unneeded explanation, not when the answer was so obvious. Memory dredged up by those numbers on one of Snow's fragile ribs, engraved too deeply to easily heal. He only held Stretch close, petting from the back of his skull down his cervical vertebra with gentle fingertips as those bone-deep shudders slowly eased.

Petting shifted to a careful massage, rubbing at the delicate cartilage between the spinal joints until all the tension wound through Stretch faded, leaving him as boneless against Edge as a skeleton could manage. He sighed, his warm breath gusting humidly over Edge’s collarbone, and his long limbs wound around Edge in a bony sort of cage, loosely holding on.

Edge was drowsing himself, his stroking gone idle, when Stretch spoke again in a low, barely audible mumble that Edge nevertheless heard very clearly, snapping awake as his soul began to pound in his ribcage. Couched on an exhale, three words that were so complex in their very simplicity.

“hnnnn,” Stretch sighed out, “i love you.”

There in the darkness, Edge lay with wide sockets staring up at the ceiling as every thought of sleep fled to the corners of his mind, leaving it utterly empty. Obviously, such a declaration required a response, and yet his thoughts were a panicked blank, his hands still on Stretch and surely he was already regretting saying such a thing, surely he was rethinking his choice as Edge only lay here like a useless fool, unable to reply.

“Stretch,” Edge choked out, faltering, and before he could manage to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth came an unexpected reply. A faint snore that rumbled through them both as Stretch snuggled in closer, his sockets closed in sleep.

Edge almost sagged in relief, letting out a slow, shaky breath. But he knew the reprieve was a brief one. That declaration would come again, he should have already been expecting it, and he would need a ready reply.

He wasn’t fool enough not to know what reply Stretch wanted. He just wasn’t sure it was one he was able to give and what consequences would come if he couldn’t? Their place here was so precarious despite what the Swap brothers said, they couldn’t be expected to stay here if there was resentment between them. Snow needed a safe home, free of arguments and snide verbal attacks and Edge meant to see she had one. No matter what it cost him.

tbc

[bbrandy2002]

Fools Rush In

Part 4

Series: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x OC (Riley)

Previous chapters can be found here.

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine, the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. As a drunken night, he finds himself with way more than he bargained for.

MC did not exist in Liam’s social season. OC Riley Brooks lives in Las Vegas.

A/N: No wacky drabble for this one. Went a wee bit over and couldn’t cut. Oh well...there’s always next time. This is an 18+ series.

A/N: The lyrics to the song Maxwell sings comes from a Tik Tok video that was shared with me and the idea to include it in this is not my own hahahaha I will post the link to the video in comments to give the maker proper credit and just in case anyone wants to actually watch it. I thought it was funny..

Thanks @burnsoslow for beta reading and all of my lovely pre-readers.

Warning: Mention of STD’s

Permanent Tags: @emceesynonymroll @romanticatheart-posts @burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @drakesensworld @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @pedudley @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @desireepow-1986 @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @blueaster-blog1 @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @twinkleallnight @annekebbphotography @txemrn

@princessleac1 @cordonia-continued @sanchita012 @shz256 @cordonia-gothqueen @narrytheworld @graceful-leah @mom2000aggie @queenwalton @tinkie1973 @muchkoolermk @captain-kingliamsqueen @gabesmommie1130 @cordonianprincess @cinnamonspongecake

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.

____________

All Riley wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower, snuggle up in a blanket on the couch with a Lifetime movie, and carry on with the rest of her life. 

She'd had this crazy but exciting night out with a fantastic guy. They had a little too much to drink and woke up the next morning to find they were married to each other.  

And she wasn't just married to anyone. No, it had to be the King of a small European country she'd never heard of before. 

That's not something that just happened to everyone. 

Depending on how one viewed her circumstances she was either the luckiest or unluckiest woman in all of Vegas. 

If she were a betting person, she'd place money on the latter.

Riley stood at the penthouse door, engaged in a stare down with the blonde-haired obstacle blocking the exit. 

In front of her was a woman wearing a black and white fur coat, a strand of pearls that hung loosely around her neck, and an impudent scowl. 

If evil were a lady, Riley surmised she was looking at her.

Madeleine's green eyes bore agitation and scorn as she studied the petite figure she recognized from the dozens of photos that bombarded her text messages. 

"You must be the bimbo who thinks she will steal my crown and title."

"Excuse me?" Riley's eyes narrowed, not knowing who she was speaking to, but could already tell she didn’t care to know.

Leo stepped up protectively behind Riley and growled at the countess. "Go away, Madeleine! How many times do we have to tell you the dalmatians aren't for sale?"

"You wish I were here for dalmatians," Madeleine sneered. "Now, out of my way, heathens." 

She pushed her way past the two and stalked inside while Mara shuffled behind. She removed her cashmere gloves and took notice of her fiance with his back pressed against the bar top, one legs crossed over the other, and sipping casually on his scotch.

Liam tipped the glass to his lips as if he didn't have a care in the world and swallowed. "Can I offer you a glass of wine, dear? Or a cronut? Perhaps a ride to the middle of the desert to be left for dead?"

"That's quite alright," Madeleine quipped as she ripped the glass out of Liam's hand and slammed it down on the bar. "But maybe you'd like to first explain why I have been inundated with one message after the next telling me you were married to this ..." She motioned her hand toward Riley with derision. "This ... bitch?"

Liam paused as if he were thinking about it, then shook his head. "No. Not really." She's not a bitch ... she's amazing. He wondered why he couldn't say that out loud.

Stunned, Riley looked up at Leo in disbelief. "Did she really just call me a bitch? She doesn't even know me."

Leo nodded with a compassionate smile on his face, then pulled her further inside and shut the door. 

He wasn't about to let her go now.

Liam grabbed his drink, pushed himself off the bar, and strolled to the center of the room. He could feel Madeleine's icy glare following his every movement. The King hoped his flippant attitude was enough to penetrate deep into her frozen exterior and piss her off even more. "I thought you were in New York, Mads. 8 million people in that city for you to torment, and you still make time to hop on your broomstick and find me. I have to say … I'm touched."

Madeleine shot him a dirty look. "Do you have any idea what I've been through because of what you did last night?"

He shrugged. "Nope, and I don't care."

"Well, you're going to care when I tell you everything that happened." She disregarded the audible groan and eye roll from him as she began her diatribe of offenses. "I had just settled in for the night when I get a message from that simpleton, Penelope, telling me what you did. I tried to call you, but apparently, you and the rest of your entourage of losers blocked my number. So I had this incompetent boob of a guard you hired for me book the first flight out here.

“When I got to JFK, I was detained and strip-searched because someone falsely alerted authorities claiming I was a Colombian drug lord, only in the U.S. to sell cocaine and hypodermic needles to children --"

Leo snorted. 

Liam curled his lips into a devilish grin, knowing exactly who did it. He glanced subtly to Mara, who winked back at him.

"Are you even listening to me, Liam? As if that nightmare wasn't horrid enough, I find out Mara booked coach class … COACH! Coach is so beneath someone like me. There were babies and old people and sodas. But the worst was when we finally arrived here; they strip-searched me again. I had to get my own baggage and ride in one of those god-awful smelly shuttle vans to this hotel. And do you know why I had to do all of that? Because you're a complete moron, Liam. The people of Cordonia are laughing at you; you know that, right? I always knew you would be a total embarrassment and fuck up, but this is beyond anything I imagined."

A downcast expression was plastered on Liam's face as he stared down at the drink in his shaky hand. Those words stung -- “a total embarrassment and fuck up.” In his mind, he felt she was right. He had let down even his own expectation of himself and the reputation of the monarchy.

There was nothing to do but stand there and stew in silence.

But Riley wouldn’t.

She shrugged Leo's hand from her shoulder and spun Madeleine around by the arm to face her. "Is this what you do? You go around insulting everyone and being a first-class bitch? I will have you know, Liam is not any of those things. He's the kindest, sweetest man I've ever met. And it's no wonder he looked so miserable last night at the club. I couldn't understand why at first, but now ... now it all makes sense. Did you ever stop to think that maybe if you weren't such a fucking cunt, he wouldn't have been drinking so much and been so willing to accept the company of another woman?"

Liam felt his heart twinge. Riley had every right to be upset with him, and he felt guilty for putting her in this situation. But there she was, defending him. God, she was hot.

Madeleine guffawed. "How cute. You've got your little whore taking up for you now."

"That's enough!" Liam's eyes landed sharply on her. Before he could stop himself, the next few words sprang from his lips as naturally as his breath. "You will not speak to my wife -- your Queen -- like that again, or so help me I will charge you where you stand for treason against the Crown. Do I make myself clear?"

Riley's eyes rounded, unsure of what to say or do at that moment.

Leo loudly cheered and pumped his fist in the air. 

Liam stood his ground as he glowered back at his slack-jawed, now ex-fiancee.

Madeleine couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You can't be serious? We are getting married in two weeks. I'm going to be the Queen!" Her tone was one of anger and desperation.

He laughed wryly in her face. "Not anymore." 

He looked past a stunned Madeleine to the heedless guard smirking behind her. "Mara, please see to it that the countess returns to the airport and doesn't disturb us again."

She agreed and led a vociferously-protesting Madeleine toward the doorway.

"You'll regret this, Liam. You'll both pay for this travesty!" 

"Use the taser on her, Mara!" Leo bounced with excitement as he followed them and opened the door. He handed the guard a $100 bill as she walked by and whispered, "Make sure they strip search her again. A bonus if they need double gloves and lube."

"You got it, boss."

Leo slammed the door and clapped. "Ding-dong, the witch is gone! So. Do you need help packing, sis? We still have a couple of hours before we go back to Cordonia. That should be enough time to gather some things."

Riley stammered, looking between the two men, completely dumbfounded by what just took place.

Liam noticed. He knew what he said to Madeleine about her being his wife and Queen was most likely awkward for her. 

They didn't know each other; it was a fact, he continued to remind himself.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. "Uh, Riley ... I just want you to know ... I only said that stuff because of Madeleine ..."

"Oh, yes. Of course. I knew that." She chuckled nervously and waved her hand. "But what about your engagement?"

"Yeah, Liam. You gotta have a queen." Leo clapped the back of one hand against the palm of the other and exclaimed, "Dem's da rules."

Liam shook his head and carried his empty glass to the open kitchen. "I know that, Leo. But I will not ask Riley to give up her life here just to help me clean up my mess. She deserves better than that."

Riley crossed her arms on the counter that looked into the kitchen, watching Liam get a bottled water from the fridge. "What happens if you don't have a Queen?"

Liam twisted the cap and gave a half-shrug. "I don't have a choice. I'll have to marry Madeleine." The words stung his lips.

"But she's so pissed at you right now."

He chuckled. "That won't stop her. She wants the crown, and that's it."

Riley could see the sadness in his eyes, the same sadness she saw last night in the club where they first met. "You'll be miserable with her, though," she muttered wistfully.

He nodded, regret written on his face. "Yeah."

Riley stood silent; she weighed the pros and cons of such a massive uprooting.  Her life had been slightly stalled and bland for the last few years. Las Vegas was her getaway to a new life from New York, where she left behind both regrets and failed relationships. And yet ... this new place wasn't everything she told herself it would be.

She looked at Liam and felt her heart break. She understood him more than he realized. 

But ... to be a Queen?

Riley inhaled deeply and prepared to speak up when Liam's phone rang.

He placed the cap on his water, sat it on the counter, and lifted his phone from the pocket of his shorts. "It's Maxwell," he called out.

Leo rushed to him. "Put it on speaker, Li!"

"Maxwell, I have you on speaker. Leo and Riley are with me. How's Drake?"

"He's in the pharmacy, and I'm standing outside getting air. It's going to take a while to amass all the medication and creams he needs."

The brothers looked at each other with wide eyes. Riley covered her mouth to prevent the chuckle that threatened to escape. "I think I'll give you guys some privacy. I'll just be in the bathroom."

Liam nodded and turned his attention back to the call. "Is it really that bad, Max? I mean, I think we know what he has."

"Dudes, I don't think you can even begin to guess half the shit Drake's got."

"You gotta tell us what the Drakester has, Max."

"I'm not really supposed to say." 

They could hear the hesitation in his voice. It was almost like he wanted to tell them, but needed a little more coaxing.

"Maxwell," Liam spoke. "If Drake doesn't want us to know, then you should probably keep it to yourself ... for now."

"I did kind of write a song about everything he was diagnosed with for a TikTok video. Drake only said not to tell anyone. He never said I couldn't sing about it."

Leo nodded his head. "Agreed. Sing that song, Beaumont."

They could hear Maxwell shuffle further away from what sounded like a crowded street. 

"Okay, the coast is clear," Maxwell said as he took a deep breath. The boys hugged their ears against Liam's cell phone. 

"Drake just left the clinic, and I'm afraid its bad news. 

So now I'm singing this song about it hoping it gets views. 

Don't know how he's still alive. 

Or how he survived. 

The doctor said he's got five ... nasty STIs. 

He's got some in his balls … got some in his ass.

And what's worse is his curly pubes are crawling with crabs. 

He's got herpes! From a booty call! 

He's got syphilis …now his dick is raw.

He's got chlamydia … And it's so sore.

And he doesn't even know where he got genital warts." 

Liam pressed two fingers into both sides of his temples while he stared blankly at his phone. "Un - believable."

Leo swiped the tears from his eyes and made no attempts to hide the giant smile curling his lips or his overwhelming giddiness. "I've never been more proud of the Drakester than I am at this moment. He actually beat me out on this one. Gotta say ... I don't mind losing to him this time."

“Liam. Leo. I gotta go; Drake’s on his way out. See ya back at the hotel.”

Leo went to the refrigerator to search for a snack, pulling out a leftover pizza. “Ya know, we should probably warn the maid she may need to get a haz-mat team before cleaning Drake’s room.”

Riley rounded the corner. “I hope everything is okay with your friend.”

Liam smiled. “That’s very kind of you say. He’ll be fine … I think.”

She fidgeted with her bracelet and glanced over at Leo placing a slice of cold pizza on top of another slice and taking a large bite. “Leo, I hate to ask while you’re eating … again. But would you mind if I spoke to your brother for a moment? Privately.”

Leo chewed quickly while shaking his head. He swallowed hard. “Sure. I needed to use the shitter, anyway. Pinquee Kittee’s casserole isn’t sitting too well in the Leo tummy.” He grabbed the pizza box and headed for the bathroom.

Liam looked curiously at Riley, not able to read her expression or have any clue what she would want to talk about. “You needed to speak with me?”

She nodded. “Yeah. About our marriage ...”

[amethystroselilith]

Intertwined Fates (Chilumi/Zhonglumi) - Chapter 4

Free from uni for now... Hopefully I can write more! Thank you for waiting patiently!

Can be read in ao3 here

SUMMARY:  As Ajax looks forward to their future, someone from the past awakens...

“You know, just because I said I wanted more kids, doesn’t mean we have to do it like every night… or whenever we’re alone…” Lumine gave out a slight moan in the end when she felt her lover suck that sensitive mark on her neck, “Ajax, it’s too early in the morning and I need to walk today.” she whined, gasping when he bit her softly.

“Sorry, you look too delicious.” Ajax grinned, letting go of her so she could roll on her back to look at him with a pout.

“Same excuses.” Lumine playfully rolled her eyes, “Anyway… do you think she’s ready for school?”

Lumine felt Ajax tensed, letting out a sigh when she saw his shoulder trembling, “Oh my god, Ajax, please…”

“My baby girl is growing too fast.” his voice cracked.

Ever since Lumine reminded Ajax about Qiqi starting school a week ago, the man had been a bit emotional. Coddling the child ever since and keep asking if she’s ready, and it’s totally fine if she doesn't want to and he can just hire a private tutor for her. Lumine had to hit him at the back of the head saying that it’s important for their child to learn how to socialise.

“Lumi, our baby will be surrounded by boys! I can’t handle the thought of giving my princess away, Lumi, I can’t!”

“Ajax, she’s 5.”

“I can’t, Lumi!”

Lumine isn’t gonna lie, she’s also worried about how Qiqi would fare being with other kids considering she hadn’t interacted with kids her age.

But this should be it, right? The right time for Qiqi to meet and interact with other children.

The blonde also has that anxiety within her, what if someone’s mean to her child? Crush Qiqi’s dreams of having playmates?

Qiqi isn’t sure what she’s getting into, but as her parents explained what school was, there was excitement in her eyes as they talked about the various learning activities it has.

Besides, the pre-school was only a couple blocks away from their bakery, Lumine should be able to be by her side when needed.

“Lumi, what if our Qiqi falls in love? And that punk beaks her heart? She would be safer here, I already have the best tutor in mind.” Ajax tries to convince her.

“Ajax, for the last time, no one’s falling in love with anyone.” Lumine groaned, “And if it’ll make you feel better, the class has more girls than boys.”

“...What if she likes girls?”

“Then we love her just as much, but for fuck sake, Ajax, they’re kids. Worry when she’s in high school or college.” Lumine rolled her eyes, only to regret it when Ajax gave her a horrified look.

“I don’t want my baby to grow up.” he cried.

“Ajax, we can’t stop the cycle of life…” Lumine sighed, it’s too early to deal with this.

“So that’s why we should make more babies.” Ajax grinned, only to be hit by a pillow on the face.

“Oh my god, I’m going to check on Qiqi before dealing with any more of your bullshit this early morning,” Lumine said with a chuckle.

“Baaabe, homeschooling isn’t so bad!” Ajax called out for her only to receive an eye roll.

He pouted and decided to get ready himself, Qiqi’s going to school, he doesn’t need to work from home anymore. So it’s back to the office with him, back to dealing with his insufferable co-workers, especially the midget.

With that thought, he got up from the bed with an annoyed groan.

~~~

“Bye, bye, Papa. Love you.” Qiqi said, kissing his cheek before getting out of the car and grabbing her mother’s waiting hand.

“Bye, sweetie, have fun at school, okay? And if someone hurts you, tell Papa so I can take care of it, okay? Papa loves you.” Ajax smiled, earning a scoff from Lumine.

“Don’t teach our child violence this early.” she tsked before leaning in the car window, “Good luck at work and don’t kill anyone. I love you,” she said before pecking his lips goodbye.

“Hm, I’ll try not to make Mona a widow.” he grinned, “Bye, see you tonight. I love you too.” Ajax said, waiting and watching his girls to make sure they’ll be fine before driving off to his office.

Despite still being anxious for his daughter’s first day of school, he can’t help but fall in love with their new routine already. Him making their breakfast while Lumine prepares Qiqi for school, him dropping them off at the bakery, Lumine walking Qiqi the few minutes walk to her preschool. They all do their day until Qiqi’s done with preschool by 12 noon, Lumine picking her up and staying at the bakery until it’s time for Ajax to pick them up and go back home.

He can’t wait until more of his future kids join their routine.

Ajax is never trading this life for anything.

~~~

“Thank you, and have fun with your new kite!” the brunette smiled softly as he handed the kite to the child.

“Thank you, Mister! Thank you, Dad!” the little girl grinned, jumping excitedly as she hugged the toy to her chest, “Let’s go to the park! I wanna see the fairy fly!” she pulled her father out of the store.

The father just gave the employee a smile and wave before he’s led out by his daughter.

“Isn’t it nice seeing their little smiles? So bright and hopeful.” the old owner chuckled as she rearranged the toys on display.

“It is a great feeling.” he smiled.

He wondered how the father feels seeing his child happy, it must be a wonderful feeling .

Does he have a child of his own?

As he wrecked his mind for anything, he came up with nothing.

Looking at the golden band on his finger, he wonders yet again about the blonde woman who seemed etched in his mind.

“Ah, Zhongli, don’t you worry. My grandson is good with computers, I’m sure we’ll find her soon.” Granny Shan encouraged as she saw the look on his face again.

Zhongli forced out a smile, “Thank you, Granny Shan.”

It’s been a week since he awakened.

A week since it was explained that he ended up in a coma after being in a plane accident. Granny Shan had been his saviour, had taken him under her care, even transported his comatose body in this region when she moved to build another toy store. When asked why Granny Shan just gave a sad smile and talks about how he reminded her of her son whom she lost from an accident as well

Zhongli thinks she’s lucky to find an empty lot close to a preschool. He could imagine kids dragging their parents here when they’re let out.

Still, a week had gone by and still no memories coming back. All he knows is his name thanks to the ID he had on him, unfortunately, most of the information had been scratched off, or made unreadable thanks to being submerged in a puddle for too long before he was found, and the fact that he’s married because he has a ring on him. He could only assume the beautiful blonde woman is his wife, why else would he keep dreaming of coming back to her?

The lack of information on himself forced him to stay with Granny Shan. Choosing to help her after he recovered enough to do so while at the same time, doing all he can to remember.

While Granny Shan would contact her grandson and would receive a list of profiles, but none of them had been her.

Zhongli doesn’t blame him though, all he could offer him was her physical appearance, which is so hard to track down without any name to refer to. Not to mention her grandson isn’t even a part of a government organisation that would be able to get a hold of registered citizens, he was an IT, but the fact that he helps a stranger like Zhongli makes him a hero in Zhongli’s eyes.

And he wishes no further to burden them with his problems, but unfortunately, he can’t do anything but help around the toy store.

Though as much as he would like to come home, 5 years is a pretty long time.

How is she now?

Where is she now?

What is she doing now?

Upon finding out that he had been in a coma for five years, Zhongli vomited. It was a lot to take in and the fact that he can’t remember anything is very overwhelming and frustrating.

He was depressed for days, recovering and getting back on his feet just last night and asking Granny Shan if he could help because the blonde woman was encouraging him, asking him to come back to her.

She would sing sweetly for him, yet he can’t remember the lyrics as soon as he woke up.

Waking up without her had been torture for Zhongli so far, the need to be with her is growing stronger by the day, and he doesn’t know just how long he can wait until he breaks and go crazy chasing after a woman he doesn’t even know still exist.

His eyes widened at the thought, quickly shaking it off as he felt his heart race anxiously and his stomach churning badly.

Of course, she exists, why else would she keep asking him to come home?

His head began to ache, and it seemed it shows since Granny Shan is walking to him with a worried face, “Maybe it’s time for a break, yeah? Do you have a headache?”

Zhongli shook his head, “I’m fine don’t worry,” he smiled, “I should be fine if I drink-”

“I’ll make you some tea.”

“Please, I don’t want to bother-”

“Sonny, it’s fine, making tea should be easy for an old lady like me rather than having to man the cashier, don’t you think so? It’s almost noon, meaning kids might be filling the store soon.” Granny Shan explained with a smile, “Now just wait there, okay?”

Zhongli nodded in defeat, “Alright.”

Granny Shan then left to go to the back, where it functions as their home. It’s a decent size with 2 bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom.

The man busies himself with rechecking the toys displayed, making sure they’re properly placed that children can see them. He sweeps for a few, just waiting for the time to pass by. He may have started working today, but he could hear the commotion before when it reaches noon as the store is filled with customers. It made him feel bad thinking about leaving the old lady alone, but there was nothing he could do about it but work his best.

It soon struck 12 and as expected, the small preschool across the street had released their students. Zhongli straightened up, preparing to greet customers as he already saw some kids dragging their parents in their shop. He watched as some kids threw tantrums when their parents denied them, some making their way excitedly to his shop, there were already two little girls looking at the display. The blonde one with elven ears pointed at a little plushie resembled some kind of a rabbit inside a red bag, her red eyes sparkling as she talks to the other girl. Zhongli can’t help but smile at her friend’s reaction, her magenta eyes wide with fascination as she listens to her talk.

They then met eyes, Zhongli smiling brightly with a small wave, making the girl return the gesture with a wide smile.

He also waved at the little blonde girl who is now tugging at the older blonde guy they were with.

“Albedo-oniichan, let’s get it, please! Pleaaaseee!” he can hear her behind the window, “Klee has been very good! Klee didn’t get sent to the corner by Ms Jean! Please, please, please!”

The man Zhongli assumed as Albedo smiled softly, “Well since you didn’t cause trouble, let’s go.”

Klee squealed in excitement, and seemed like was about to invite her friend, but it looks like the purple-haired girl was looking at someone who Zhongli couldn’t see.

Zhongli assumed it was her parents or guardian picking her up since she waved goodbye to her friend. He was a bit taken back when she turned to him and waved goodbye to him as well, but he returned the gesture with a smile.

For some reason, he felt some sort of happiness for the little girl.

He didn’t get to think much of it since customers had started pouring inside.

~~~

Zhongli once again smiled at the little purple-haired girl when she passed by the shop again. It had been 4 days so far and they had always been waving at each other when they passed by.

“Does that girl not have a guardian with her? I don’t think I’ve seen her with an adult.” Zhongli hummed as he cleans the shelves.

“Hm? The purple-haired one? Ah, her mother works at the bakery a couple of blocks away, it’s a few minutes walk, 2 or 3 at most. She only needs to step out of the bakery and watch from there, so she’s completely safe.” Granny Shan explained, “They have great pastries, by the way, I brought one home earlier, seems like a new product of theirs, feel free to eat them, they’re in the fridge.”

“Ah, it’s nice that their workplace is close to her school.” Zhongli hummed, a sudden craving for pastries appeared, and a specific sort of flavour too.

Zhongli ignored the craving, not wanting to leave the old woman alone with cleaning.

“Quite an adorable family too, I met her husband as well, a protective father he is.” she chuckled.

Zhongli can’t help but wonder, if he has a child, what kind of father was he?

He hopes they’re doing well if he does have. What a shame it was that he suddenly disappeared from their lives.

A longing feeling blossomed in his chest again, oh how he would love to meet the blonde goddess in his dreams, how elated he will be to find out if she bore his child.

“Say, Granny Shan, weren’t you saying about giving me a salary?”

“Hm? Did you change your mind about not getting them?” Granny Shan hummed.

“No, but shall I use that to buy that big finch plushie?” Zhongli asked, remembering how the little girl’s eyes would look at the bird-shaped stuffed toy longingly.

Granny Shan smiled, knowing exactly what he’s thinking, “Of course.” she chuckled, “Have you grown attached to the little girl already? It hasn’t been long nor did you two ever talk. It’s a shame I forgot her name, my memory isn’t the best.”

Zhongli smiled embarrassingly, “I just feel a bit bad, she’s been eyeing the toy ever since. Though, I’m a bit worried what her parents would think.”

The old lady waved him off, “Don’t worry about that, just put on our card so they know it’s from here, they know me there and that I own this place.”

Zhongli's smile brightened, “Thank you!”

He can’t wait to make a kid’s day bright.

~~~

The very next day, Zhongli waited for the little girl to pass again, he doesn’t know why but he felt so excited.

Just like on routine, she passed by again, and instead of waving, Zhongli gestured for her to wait. She listened, having been familiar with the old lady who owned the store, that’s why her mother didn’t have to wait for her outside. Granny Shan had been the one watching over her since Zhongli had been doing most of the work inside the store.

She gasped when Zhongli showed her the toy she’d been eyeing her. She immediately hugged it when handed to her, Zhongli can’t help but be in awe at the appreciative gesture.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she jumped, hugging the plushie half her size.

Granny Shan can’t help but smile at the interaction, oh how she wishes Zhongli would be able to find his home with his family.

“It’s no problem, little one. I hope you take good care of them.” Zhongli smiled.

“Qiqi will name him Mr Finch.” the girl said.

Qiqi

There was a sudden pain in Zhongli’s head, not wanting to scare the little girl, he hid the pain.

“Well, I’m glad Mr Finch is in capable hands.” he smiled through the pain.

“Qiqi can’t wait until Mama and Papa meet him! Thank you, Mr!” Qiqi said once again before she had to make her way to her mother’s bakery.

As soon as Qiqi is far enough, Zhongli releases a groan as he rubs his temples.

“Something wrong?” Granny Shan asked with worry as she followed Zhongli inside.

“It’s probably just the heat or something.” Zhongli reassured, “It should be fine after taking a break.”

Granny Shan nodded, “Well, the day should be slow now, go on and take a break. You can even walk outside? The fresh air should be good for you.” she smiled.

Zhongli nodded at the suggestion before going back to his room.

As he lay down on his bed, he can’t help but think about what had happened.

Qiqi

The name tugged something in his chest, but he just can’t understand what it is.

He took a deep breath to ease his headache, maybe he should go for a walk after a nap.

[puckyeahobx]

just a little bit is all im asking for

a/n: sorry y’all but this account is a rafe cameron woobification zone. go cry about it. (NOT MY GIF)

word count: 4.6k

summary: miss y/n and rafe are fwb and of course it’s complicated bc why wouldn’t it be?

warnings: none!! pure fluff

You weren’t really sure how you had ended up in Rafe Cameron’s bed almost nightly for the past month, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that your older brother was hired to take care of the Cameron property and you had nothing better to do than help him out. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you were a Pogue through and through and he needed to rebel against his Kook life in one way or another. Or maybe, just maybe, it was some weird twist of fate. 

Whatever was going on between you and Rafe hadn’t started romantic, or even sexual. It was an honest to God work relationship. But then, without warning, he started getting close to your brother which meant that he was then closer to you too, even if that just meant in proximity. From this new up close and personal perspective you got to know him in a way you never thought possible given the ways of the island. 

For one thing, it became increasingly harder to ignore how blue his eyes were. Or how the muscles of his broad shoulders would move beneath his tan skin. His laugh was the hardest to ignore because of how surprising it was. When he was with Ward or Sarah it was like he was a ghost: the laughter always died in his chest before bubbling out of him the way you now knew it could. As he got closer to you you began to see everything that he was in a whole new light. His bones, his skin, his muscles, they all looked brand new and rearranged when he was the Rafe you knew on the boat. 

You also got closer to the parts of him that weren’t physical. It wasn’t as if the three of you were having intense heart to hearts or anything, but he was definitely an open, alive version of Rafe Cameron. Through the jokes he cracked with your brother, the way he talked about his family and his so called friends (or, in Ward’s case, didn’t talk about his family and friends), or just the way he carried himself on the open ocean and away from Kook life, his priorities and true colors really started to show. He was just a guy who hated everything he had been taught to stand for and hated himself for standing for it for so long. He was no anti-establishment anarchist by any means, but he knew that there was something very wrong with the way that he had been raised and resented what it had done to him. It was no secret that he had struggled with substance abuse in the past, he talked about it a lot more than you expected, but now that that was in his past he was able to clearly see what had caused him to go down that road, he stayed away from it as much as possible. 

So maybe it wasn’t because of fate or rebellion or your constant presence on his property. Maybe it was just because you were the only thing available at the time that didn’t remind him of the pieces of himself that made him hate the person he saw in the mirror.

++++++++++++++

It was another long day on the boat. You guys didn’t really do anything to be honest, but Ward didn’t seem to care. He barely noticed that your brother was on the payroll or that the boat was gone almost every day, but as long as he didn’t realize and suddenly have a problem with either of those facts, it was going to be smooth sailing. Your brother was doing something in the hull of the boat with some generator (you never listened when he told you these things) and you were on the main deck tanning and reading. Well, trying to read. Rafe was with your brother and you were pretending like it didn’t annoy you that he wasn’t paying attention to you. Whatever you guys were was not technically public knowledge, but was it too much to ask that he paid more attention to you than some generator at the bottom of a boat? 

You were in the middle of plotting his untimely demise when you heard footsteps coming up to the deck which meant you quickly had to become very interested in your book. He didn’t say anything as he approached you, moving to sit too far away on your right. Since you were still pretending that you weren’t annoyed, you continued reading as if nothing was wrong. Because nothing was wrong, right? How were you going to be mad at the boy whose bed you happened to end up in every night for not hanging out with you while the sun was still up? Besides, he was your brother’s friend, not yours. 

“Good book?” He asked after several moments of awkward silence where his eyes stuck to your exposed skin and you reread the same sentence over and over again.

You gave him a slight nod, “The best.”

You saw him nod to himself and look away from you out of the corner of your eye. He looked like he was thinking about something. Hesitating in a very familiar way. “You weren’t there when I woke up this morning.”

The breath rising in your lungs died immediately as you heard the words fall off his tongue. It was clear that he was trying not to sound hurt, but the breathy nature of the barely-there whisper was a dead giveaway. 

You didn’t know what to say, because it was true. You weren’t there when he woke up that morning. But this wasn’t out of the ordinary for you guys, really. Sometimes you fell asleep after you hooked up, only for both of you to wake up a few hours later and sneak you out through the window. Other times you both stumbled through an awkward exchange, only for you to be gone almost as soon as it had started. But you never left without saying goodbye. But given the nature of your arrangement, you thought that was purely coincidental. It didn’t seem like something that would bother a friends with benefits, so when it was 6:00 am and his arm was still draped across your stomach (holding on for dear life) you thought it would just be best for the both of you if you didn’t see his eyes flutter open in the first seconds of awake-ness, or the way his muscles looked under his skin when he undoubtedly stretched his huge body out across his sheets. That seemed like a line that you both had already silently agreed didn’t need to be crossed, so to hear his voice waver, even slightly, as he questioned your whereabouts startled you to say the least.

“Yeah, uh...I wasn’t feeling good this morning,” Without looking at him you paused, trying to think on your feet, “The sunrise woke me up and I realized my stomach felt weird,” Another pause, “I’m sorry.”

He looked at you now, his arms resting on his folded up knees, “You could have woken me up...I could have gotten you some medicine or something....”

You knew he was trying to be sweet but you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”

Halting your giggles, you reached out to set a hand on his arm reassuringly, “I know you are, there’s just something about the Rafe Cameron treating the girl he’s fucking’s minor stomach ailment. Seems a little off brand.”

He scoffed and looked down again, not laughing nearly as much as you had hoped he would. “Who exactly is this ‘Rafe Cameron’ you know so well then? You think I’m just some asshole?”

His voice was ice cold which was never a good sign. This wasn’t a side of him that you ever were on the receiving end of, but based on your experiences as an observer, things were about to spiral out of control real quick. 

“Rafe, you know I was just kidding-”

“Well I just don’t think it’s funny to think that one of my best friends thinks I’m such a useless asshole, that’s all.”

And then, before you could respond, he was up and back on the lower deck with a huff. He was stomping, of course. He’s a stomper.

You watched until you couldn’t see any of that hair you loved anymore and then immediately threw your head and groaned. Feeling immeasurably stupid, you rubbed your hands on your face in frustration. You were already lying, why did you have to say all that? Of course he would have helped you. You knew what it meant to him that he was becoming a better person than he used to be. He wore his reputation like a scarlet letter and here you were, throwing it in his face for the sake of selling a lie. And for what? To avoid admitting that you had to sneak out before you did something you regretted? Like telling him how much the way he wrapped his arms around you instinctively in his sleep made you want to break down into sobs? Or maybe that despite the unorthodox situation you had gotten yourselves in, you had never felt safer or more taken care of in your life. How embarrassing to have to hurt him with a lie over something so trivial as the way you couldn’t help but adore him all day, every day, with every breath you took.

Not to mention that you really were best friends, just like he said. You were best friends long before whatever was going on started, well, going on, and hopefully you would be best friends after. 

After. 

It was in this moment that you realized you weren’t realized that you weren’t ready for an after. This, this thing you had was something that you weren’t ready to have to get over. The rules were fuzzy and there weren’t any titles, but those moments with him where it was just him were the only things that had any residency in your heart and in your mind for the last month. Whatever this was to him, you were going to be it and you were going to be the best at it. As long as it kept him within arms reach. 

But first, you had to make it up to him.

++++++++++++++

The two of you had set up a sort of system over the last couple of weeks. After a long day on the boat or in town or whatever it was for the day, you would head your separate ways and wait until your brother had disappeared to his room to give the all clear. At that point, you would wait for Rafe to give the all clear on his end (the Ward and Sarah of it all sometimes getting in the way until the wee hours of the night), when you would finally sneak out your window and head over on your bike to avoid the noise of a car engine. You secretly didn’t think that your brother would even care that much, but sneaking around was just too much fun to pass up.

However, tonight you didn’t waste time on all of that. You waited for your brother to go to bed or do whatever it is he does after hours but mostly because you didn’t want to answer any questions because, to be honest, you didn’t have any answers. But once you knew that he wouldn’t be a problem, you hopped on your bike and made a beeline for the Cameron estate. 

His bedroom was on the second floor, but at this point you were very well acquainted with the makeshift ladder he had built years ago when he realized that his locked bedroom door was never going to be enough distance between himself and Ward. You got halfway up the side of the house when you heard the yelling and the crashing. If his icy tone on the boat wasn’t a good sign, this sign was practically screaming “Enter at Your Own Risk”.

Finally reaching the top, you banged on his window just as you caught sight of him about to throw a very expensive looking lamp. His room was a complete mess of shattered glass. Your heart broke at the realization that he had to have been at this for hours.

When he heard your knocking he stopped dead in his tracks and turned. At first glance, his whole body softened at the sight of you, but then it was as if he had remembered what had happened all of a sudden and he rebuilt the stone wall behind his eyes immediately. Nonetheless, he stalked over towards you and opened the window.

“What do you want?” He huffed at you through the window.

“Can I come in?”

He turned around and stepped back, making room for you to get your body in. He usually helped with this part. “I’m not in the mood to have sex with you.”

His remark hurt more than it should have and it probably had to do with the distance between the two of you and the lamp still threatening to be thrown from the hands that you knew wanted desperately to be gentle. “Can’t a friend come over to check on a friend with no sexual ulterior motive?”

Gently, he set the lamp down at its right place on the side of his bed before turning back around to you and crossing his arms over his chest, “I don’t know, Y/N? Can she?”

You started to walk towards him, wanting to be closer to him for this conversation, but the sound of glass and ceramic crunching under your tennis shoes startled you. “Rafe….What did you do?”

“You act surprised. I thought this was exactly what you would come to expect from the Rafe Cameron?” The words seemed like it was a joke but his tone and the grimace on his face were anything but. His face was screwed up in such a way that it was impossible to tell which emotion was winning at the moment: hurt or anger. 

“Rafe…” You speak so soft and slow so you don’t spook him, carefully walking across this mess you both made, “I shouldn’t have said that. I know how good of a man you are. That guy that I heard about...he doesn’t live here anymore.”

He was clearly trying to struggle to not look at you, especially as you got closer. “Clearly,” He points to the shards all over the floor, “He does.”

Finally reaching him, you grab his arm and hold it tightly before gently resting a hand on his cheek, willing him to look at you. “You got rid of him once, we can get rid of him again. I-I should have never implied that you wouldn’t take care of me. I know you would-”

“I always have. Always. I always will,” His hand had come up to hold the one on your face as he whispered to you. The wall behind his eyes being torn down brick by brick. 

“I know, I know,” You weren’t sure when your resolve decided to break and when your brain gave your voice permission to break, but here you were: standing under his gaze about to fall to a million pieces. 

He noticed almost immediately and scooped you up in his arms, like he wasn’t the broken one standing in the evidence of his frustration. “Hey, hey, don’t cry. It’s ok. I just, I lost it for a second. I’m ok now...”

The way that he was so ready to console you in this moment is what broke you, to be honest. Trying to scrounge up whatever dignity you had left, you begged your voice to stop quivering as you sat down on the bed behind you, your head in your hands. “No, no it’s uh, it’s not this.”

He sat down beside you, looking at you nervously. Like you could fall apart before him at any moment, “What is it then?”

“Why did it matter to you that I left without saying goodbye?” You didn’t know what you were saying until you heard the words spilling out of your mouth almost on top of each other. And if the look on his face was any indication, he was just as surprised as you were. 

Running a hand through his hair he sighed and looked back down to the floor again, “Um, I’m not really sure, just curious I guess.”

Your heart sank. Of course. He was probably just trying to make conversation on the boat, you were the one that made more of it than it was. Like always. “Yeah, uh, for sure. That makes sense.”

The silence that followed was much too long and much too awkward to be between you and Rafe, your best friend. 

Then he finally spoke. “Is that ok? That I was wondering?”

You turn to him and you find a face so completely lost and worried it took you by surprise and made your heart twist in on itself, “What?” It was more a breath than a word.

“I um, I just didn’t know if it was ok for me to be asking about your whereabouts, I guess. I’m not really sure how these kinds of things work…”

You tried to swallow as your mouth went completely dry under the weight of his nervous gaze, “‘These kinds of things’?”

He cleared his throat before continuing. The energy in the room had gone from hostile, to remorseful, to anxious in a matter of minutes. “Yeah, uh, you know. Hooking up with your best friend. There’s no rule book….I don’t want to scare you off.”

Your cheeks warmed up despite yourself. It was nice to still hear him call you that after everything. “Well, even if there was, neither of us are very good at following those anyway,” you joked, trying to test the waters. He luckily returned an inward chuckle as he looked back down at his hands. Getting your sea legs, your voice dropped down to a confident whisper, “And yes, you can wonder about my whereabouts. You can wonder about anything you want. There’s no part of me that isn’t already open for you to take.”

His breath caught in his throat as he looked back at you one last time, “Then why did you leave?”

This wasn’t the response you were expecting, but it was the one that you needed. It was your chance to finally be honest. You could stick with your story and keep dancing in this limbo with him, one that will surely end up killing you both, or take the fucking leap and tell him the space where his shoulders turns into his neck is the single most beautiful stretch of land you had ever laid your eyes on. You were never one to be particularly brave but here, on his bed - the one place safe from the broken glass and hearts - you felt bold enough to hand him what you had hoped he would have taken on his own months ago.

“I just, I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep for so long, and the idea of waking up next to you in the daytime felt really… intimate. I was just afraid of you seeing me in that light, I think.” You tried to keep the confident whisper act up the whole time and were proud when you only faltered once or twice.

Rafe scoffed jokingly as he grabbed one of your hands again, “I’ve already seen you naked and screaming, you think a little daylight is gonna freak me out?”

The warmth in your cheeks started to spread all over as you broke eye contact out of embarrassment, a nervous laugh rising in your throat, “Well, that’s not exactly what I meant. But I guess you were right…it was stupid.”

“No I don’t think it was stupid...I think I get it.” His voice was a lot more serious in comparison to the playful taunting from seconds before. 

“Yeah?” This surprised you, because you weren’t even sure you got it. Not completely, anyway. 

Scooting closer to you, your hands still intertwined and resting on your thigh, he sighed as he looked down at them, “Yeah, I think so. I’m pretty scared anytime you look at me. I can only imagine how it’d feel first thing in the morning when I’m just getting used to being a person again...It’s very primal and vulnerable, I guess. When the sun is rising.”

Rafe really didn’t get enough credit for how smart he was. Because yes, besides the parts about his eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks as the sun peaked around his curtains, that was exactly it. It is very hard to keep your guard up when you’re barely remembering the parts you’re supposed to be hiding. But you didn’t say that. Your confidence was running thin at the realization that he could read your mind, so you said, “Yeah, something like that” and you both fell into a silence again. 

It took a full five minutes before he spoke again. “Are you going to leave without saying goodbye tonight?” 

“What makes you think you’re spending the night?” You joked, bumping his shoulder with your own.

“I, um, I just assumed...Sorry.” 

Another joke of yours had managed not to land, so instead of talking, you moved. Sighing and leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, you took off your shoes and socks and shimmied out of your pants, leaving you just in your t-shirt and underwear. You climbed under the blankets on your side of the bed and held your arms out for him to come lay with you. “I was only teasing. Of course I’m spending the night.”

The first smile of the night broke the tiniest bit across his face as he stood up and walked over to the light switch, the reminder of what had happened crunching beneath his shoes before coming back over to you and stripping down to an identical outfit. Normally after sex you would lay your head against his chest and listen to his body try to get back to normal beneath your touch, but tonight he laid his head on yours and you ran your fingers through his hair slowly so as not to spook him.

“Y/N?” He whispered just when you were about to doze off.

“Rafe?”

He paused as if thinking about what he really needed to say, “Are you... are you happy? Like this, here, with me?”

The question knocked the wind out of you. Because, of course you were. But it almost sounded like he wanted you to say no. “Rafe, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t happy. You’re one of my best friends-”

“But are you happy like this? Pretending.”

“Are you pretending?” It was your turn to hope he would say no.

He moved off your chest and looked at you with the little light peering in from the moon outside, “A little.”

“About what?” You tried to sound neutrally curious, like you weren’t about to cry. You couldn’t take a rejection from him right now. Not now, not ever. 

“Y/N…” His attempts at telepathy were not working and his whispered plea was just making you more nervous.

“About what, Rafe? Just tell me. I can take it.” 

Another too long pause and then finally: “Are you happy...are you happy pretending like we’re not both holding back? Because, to be honest, I’m not sure I am.”

An anvil might as well have fallen directly on top of your breathing canal. You had absolutely no idea how to respond to the fact that you weren’t making him happy. The one person whose happiness consumed you, and you failed. 

“Um...well...I can just, I can just go,” you tried to get up and find your shoes just to feel yourself be pulled back to the bed. 

“No...Y/n...That’s not what I meant! I um, I like spending time with you. I like hooking up with you. That stuff does make me happy. Like, really happy.”

You honestly thought he was stroking out or teasing you for fun at this point, he was making absolutely no sense. “Ok? Rafe you’re not making any sense.”

He sighed, “I like those things and so much more but...Y/N….I’m tired of pretending like I don’t...Like I don’t-”

“Rafe, please-”

“Like I don’t love you.” 

Your head was instantly dizzy with the sound of those words off his tongue. You tried to respond but were cut off by his nervous rambling. 

“Not like. Love. I love you, Y/N. And this, the sex and the secrets, it’s great. It’s hot! But um, I’m kind of losing it here. I just hope every time that it means more to you than it seems like so this morning when you were gone, after I finally thought I had made some progress, it really sucked. I just want this to be something tangible so bad to prove that the guy everyone besides you knew really doesn’t live here anymore so I just kind of lost it because you clearly don’t feel the same way and I was just not prepared to be the only one pretending.”

At a loss, you just stared at him with your jaw hung loose and your eyes misty with the threat of sobs clawing at the back of your throat. 

“Please tell me I’m not the only one pretending,” It appeared as though he had already beat you to the tears as he weakly whispered his plea to you across the darkness, across the fear, across the insecurity. “Please.”

There were no words that seemed fit to tell Rafe Cameron that you loved him so much it seemed like you had used up all of the love in the world, draining the Earth of its natural supply, so you just kissed him. This kiss didn’t have a destination like your previous ones did and it wasn’t full of secrets like the other ones were. It was just a kiss in its purest form: a declaration of love and the promise of more. It was sweet and tinged with the salt water from both sets of pathetic, lovesick eyes. It was perfect. 

He pulled away with his hands still on your waist, both of you laying on your sides trying to memorize the other’s face in the moonlight. “You never answered my question.” He knew you had, just then in that kiss, but he had always been greedy.

“You were never the only one pretending. I think I have been pretending much longer than you could even know.”

“Impossible, because I’ve been pretending since the moment I saw you.”

“You’re a liar, Rafe Cameron.”

“And you’re beautiful, Y/F/N Y/L/N. Now say it back.”

“Say what back?” You quipped, deciding he needed to be teased back.

“That you’re crazy about me and completely in love with me.”

You laughed at his ridiculousness, “Is that what you said? Wow I remembered the last 10 minutes very differently than you.”

“Yes, it is, now say it,” He softened after a pause, “Please?”

You pulled him closer by the back of his neck and smiled against his lips, “I love you. Not like. Love.”

He hummed contently before pulling you in for another kiss, “It sounds so much better when you say it.”

You giggle as his lips collide with yours, “But it tastes so sweet when you do.”