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#ch: a disagreement
keydekyie · 2 years
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tfw you upset your giant monster friend and he accidentally triggers your fight or flight response
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a portion of a scene in chapter 17 of The Crossing
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sun-marie · 7 months
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What I really think media with ensemble casts, especially those in a traveling group of some kind, are missing are big, blow-out arguments between the group. Especially when there's a conflict of interests, I am such a sucker for when two or more characters disagree so strongly that they realize very little is actually holding them together as a group, and wonder if it's time to go their separate ways.
I feel like a lot of video games, specifically, just kind of assume once the traveling band is "complete", it's forced to stay together until the player expressly permits it, but I don't really find that very compelling and a lot of times it feels more like they're relying on some kind of immediately strong bond that hasn't really been earned. Which is a shame, because in my opinion one of the best ways to strengthen that bond is to have the characters disagree and argue. Maybe they realize they're only being superficially held together and so they temporarily split up, only to then realize how much they've come to care for the others in the group. Then they reunite, make-up, formulate a plan to go forward, and boom, the group bond is that much stronger. Or maybe they don't even split up, and maybe they never learn to like each other, but they decide whatever cause their working toward is more important. Something else, bigger than them, is holding them together.
It just feels like a lot of potential is going to waste to just skip straight to the intense found family bond, without earning it.
#there are exceptions of course#like I thought it was clever how bg3 did it where the group didn't necessarily intend to be traveling together this long#and then once they learned about the tadpoles and the artifact it turns out it's either stay together or die#but a disagreement between them every once and a while instead of assuming they're all insta-besties couldn't hurt#and DA2 kinda circumvents this by Hawke not really going anywhere#so if Fenris isn't having a good time with Anders he can just like stay home and vice versa#but games like Octopath Traveler 2 would really benefit from some stronger disagreements#like my first playthrough Castti's ch. 4 and Osvald's ch. 5 lined up right next to each other#and like vague ot2 spoilers#but what I would give to see them hash it out#over whether to save thousands of people Castti doesn't know potentially at the cost of saving one person Osvald cares a great deal for#or vice versa#especially with how hardened Osvald's become it would have been soooo juicy#i get that would've been difficult to implement and that's probably more the job of fanfic#but that's just an example of what I mean#idk I just think more creators shouldn't be afraid to have their characters seriously argue with each other#because not every disagreement is a dealbreaker and can in fact strengthen their bonds#and like not every game cast needs to be found family! but if you want that found family effect you have to show them arguing like a family#poe1 is a good example of a group that travel together and don't necessarily have this tight bond#they just feel like good friends (mostly)#i had other examples that I can't think of now and may add later#I feel like I was going somewhere with this but yeah it's just something I've been thinking about#let characters fight sometimes. conflict is what makes stories good#edit: FE: 3 Houses was the other example I was thinking of!#like things get pretty dire in the Blue Lions route and Dimitri has some pretty questionable moments#but with the exception of like Felix hardly anyone calls him out on it they just kind of go along with it#and lo and behold Felix is one of my favorite 3H characters and his friendship with Dimitri is extremely compelling#bc their friendship was tested and survived#marie speaks
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sunflowercider · 1 year
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Lloyd literally just gets a letter from julian and hes so fucking happy and proud of him oh my god
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sandrockian · 1 year
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You know what? I think about my Builder and how her parents love her, but they don't understand her desire to build things instead of following in their footsteps and becoming a farmer like them.
I also think about how this is partially why she never returned home with her tail between her legs after Pen's betrayal and finding out that she was pregnant with his child. Liira knew her parents would take her in and welcome the child, but the thought of raising her child in a stifling environment kept her from leaving. She wasn't going to let Pen have the last laugh or shame her parents with the truth of her child's father being a devoted servant to Duvos.
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kookslastbutton · 2 months
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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter v
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✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
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pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader
genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love
Word count: 14k+
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mean relatives, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecating in some areas etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, there is one scene depicting some physical violence (tame) , finally some fluff!, and I won't spoil any more
playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.
a/n: OMG....ignore the fact that this is releasing a month after ch. 4. 🫠 i'm sorry. On the bright side, I'm VERY excited to share this with you AND this actually isn’t the last chapter. There’s one more after! I hope you enjoy 🥰 ALSO, this is GP!Taehyung in this chapter (....😮‍💨)
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"This can't be right," you mutter to yourself for the umpteenth time, eyes heavily fixated on your laptop screen. You've been scrolling through the latest press releases all morning, a cup of tea growing cold beside you.
Ever since Jimin’s text last week, rumors about your ex-husband stepping down from his position at JeonX practically spread like wildfire, with nearly every journalist adding their individual spin on the matter—some suggest personal issues, while others hint at possible disagreements within the company.
Despite the influx of information, however, it all remains too vague and inconclusive. An official statement from the company directly would help clear up speculations, but it’s been crickets. Their silence only makes you consider the validity of the rumors even more.
Why would they make such a critical leadership change right after their newest product launch though?
This question, among others, continuously swirl in the back of your mind and you find the entire predicament ironic. You used to be one of the first to know the ins and outs of the company, easily able to distinguish the truth. Now, you're left in the dark like everyone else, dependent on the media for answers.
Before your eyes have time to skim the next group of articles on your screen, your phone rings.
It's Taehyung.
“Hey,” you answer casually, momentarily forgetting the significance of the call.
“Morning!” His voice is gravelly yet carries a cheerful tone. He seems quite upbeat for a foggy Saturday at 8 a.m. “Are you still okay to carpool to my parents' place today? Tan and I are on our way over.”
Dammit. Of course, this isn’t just any old Saturday—it’s the day of Taehyung’s family gathering. It had slipped your mind that you asked to ride together a few days prior. Given that it would be a five-hour long commute, driving separately seemed less convenient and enjoyable. Besides, you’d miss out on having Tan on your lap, his head poking out of the passenger-side window.
“Yeah, I’m good to go,” you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel. “I’ll be ready when you get here.”
“Great! See you soon.” Taehyung hangs up, and you put your phone down with a deep breath.
To be blunt, you're still extremely nervous about the affair. Surely his family knows who you are and has seen their fair share of articles about you. So how will they react when you show up next to Taehyung at their family function? He says they’ll like you, but it's hard to accept.
Nonetheless, you know how important this family gathering is to him and how much he wants you to be there. Not only is it a family event, but it’s also a celebration of his recovery from a motorcycle accident that could’ve been much worse.
As you pour your cold cup of tea down the sink, you try to push away the unsettling mix of thoughts, focusing instead on the next task at hand— how you should dress. Prior conversations with Taehyung advise you that something polished would be ideal for the occasion, as his family appreciates a touch of elegance, yet your mind blanks on a tangible option. Surely, there’s something in the back of your closet that would do the trick. Right?
Well…you’re right-ish.
Upon searching through rows of hangers, arms growing tired, you finally find a somewhat suitable sundress. You’re hoping it won’t look too casual, but you don’t seem to have a better alternative with your closet currently overtaken by work clothes.
Wasting no further time, you quickly slip the dress over your head and observe how it fits in the mirror. Not bad, you think, before deciding on a few complimentary jewelry pieces. The saving grace of this choice of clothing is that it can easily be dolled up, which is exactly what’s needed today.
Soon, you hear the muffling of an engine and when you peek through your bedroom window, you’re unsurprised to see Taehyung’s car pull into the driveway with a very excited Tan poking his head out from the backseat. A small smile forms on your lips at the sight.
Sparing one final look in the mirror, you slide into your shoes, toss your bag over a shoulder, and head outside to meet them.
“Hey!” Per usual, you're met with a warm smile as you hop into Taehyung's car but before you can return the greeting, Tan bounds onto your lap, tail wagging eagerly. “God, I’m so sorry about him,” Taehyung reaches for his dog, but you quickly reassure him it’s alright.
“I’m happy to see you too, Tan,” you laugh, petting him affectionately. Your focus then shifts over to Taehyung, "Thanks for coming to get me."
“Of course,” he replies, smile widening as he watches Tan settle into your lap. “I’m really glad you’re coming with me," he continues, pulling away from the curb. "My parents are looking forward to meeting you.”
You nod, trying to calm your fluttering nerves. “I’m looking forward to meeting them too.” This time, when you glance his way, you take in his attire—a crisp white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and black dress pants. It’s a classic look, yet it seems oddly refreshing on him. It's not like you expected Taehyung to look bad or anything; far from it, but did he always have to look this good? A queasy feeling soon settles in the pit of your stomach...maybe you should have worn something else.
Before you're able to fully turn away from him, Taehyung speaks up. “You look really nice today,” he says softly, eyes lingering over your face and down your body before shyly refocusing on the road. “That dress is beautiful on you—it really suits you.”
“Oh, thank you,” you reply with a shy smile of your own, unexpectant of his comment. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”
Something about the subtle exchange of compliments stirs a bundle of nerves in both of you and even with averted eyes, neither of you finds it entirely unpleasant.
The rest of the drive is long, but luckily, soon fills with lighthearted conversation and laughter. It's become easier and easier to be around Taehyung, you think.
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After more than a few bathroom breaks—mostly due to Tan’s persistent whining—you finally catch sight of Taehyung’s parent’s house.
It’s even more picturesque than you imagined, with its charming architecture and well-tended garden. In the distance, the ocean glimmers, tying the scene perfectly together.
“I meant to mention earlier, but my parents have an oceanfront view,” Taehyung says casually, pulling up to the house. “We can go down there later if you’d like. It’s private access.”
“Really?” You glance over at him with anticipation, your excitement clear. You can already taste the saltiness of the water. “If it’s really okay, I’d love that.”
“It’s more than okay,” he assures with a smile. “In fact, it’s a done deal. The best time to go is in the evening. We can even use the excuse that we need to take Tan for a little stroll if necessary. Family bonding can get a bit overwhelming without a few breaks.” He lets out a chuckle but stops when he notices your slightly demure expression.
“Hey,” he turns to you with gentle eyes. “Everything okay?”
You blink, momentarily pulled from your thoughts. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking it’s been a while since I’ve gone to any kind of family affair. They know I’m coming, right?”
Understanding your apprehension, Taehyung shifts the gear into park and places a light hand on your arm. “Absolutely, and please believe me when I say they’re more than ready and excited to meet you. They’ve asked about you so many times—I’m pretty sure I’ve lost count. I’m really happy you’re here with me too, so I hope you don’t feel like you’re intruding because I promise you’re not at all. And if at any point you need a moment to yourself, take it. I want you to feel as comfortable as possible, and I’m confident my family will want the same.”
With his hand on your arm, you find yourself wrapping yourself in the comfort of the gesture, nerves slowly easing in the process. “Thanks, Tae,” you reply, feeling a tad lighter than before.
“Are you ready?”
You nod, signaling him to remove his hand to take the key out of the ignition. As his hand leaves your arm however, you feel a subtle, unexpected shift—wishing the warmth of his touch could linger just a moment longer.
But hold up.
Since when did he affect you like this?
Dwelling on it further proves to be futile because before you can blink, the house’s front door swings wide open, revealing an older, petite woman with a kind and inviting smile. You both step out of the car immediately, Tan happily trotting around the yard confidently.
The woman pulls Taehyung into a big hug once close enough, and it’s all the evidence you need to deduce that she must be his mother.
“We were wondering where you were!” she starts. “Everyone’s here except you.” It’s a light scold, not that Taehyung minds from the giant grin spreading across his face.
“Forgive me, Mom. I guess we’re fashionably late,” he replies.
Mrs. Kim looks up and down her son with adoration, hands still gripping his arms. “Look at you,” she coos, as if proud. “My son is so handsome. I’m so happy to see you here, healthy and well.”
“Mom, this is __.”
Her eyes then shift to you, standing somewhat awkwardly beside them. If possible, her warm expression brightens even more, taking you by surprise.
“My goodness, I’m being so rude," she says, stepping toward you. "It’s wonderful to finally meet you, honey. Are you okay with hugs?”
“Sure.” You offer a sincere smile and embrace her. When you do, you feel a sense of peacefulness that you hadn’t ever before, soothing any lingering tension. You can’t help but assume that many of Taehyung’s qualities must come from her.
“I’m so pleased that my son brought you today,” she says, pulling back from the hug. She takes in your clothing as well. “You're absolutely lovely, my dear. Doesn't this color work wonderfully on her?” She glances at Taehyung, who merely nods in agreement.
“You’re the one who looks beautiful, Mrs. Kim,” you return the compliment, feeling a tad embarrassed by all the praise. “I love your earrings by the way. Are they jade?”
She nods, pleasantly. “Thank you for noticing. They’re indeed jade. My husband gifted them to me for our anniversary last year. I told him he didn’t need to get me anything, but that man is so persistent. Speaking of which, you should come inside and meet him.” She turns around at once and ushers you and Taehyung into the house. He allows you to go first.
As you follow Mrs. Kim up the steps, Tan bounds ahead excitedly. The aroma of delicious food fills the air the further you walk, and soon you’re greeted by a cozy, homey atmosphere.
Finally, you find Taehyung’s father in the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink. “Honey, Taehyung’s here and he brought __ with him.” Upon hearing your name, the man quickly dries his hands on a towel and extends a friendly hand your way, eyes twinkling.
“Hello, __! I’m glad you could come today. We’ve heard so much about you.”
“Likewise,” you reply, “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. It’s gorgeous in here.”
“Well, we have our son to thank.” He directs his attention to Taehyung, reaching out and patting his son on the back with a proud smile. “He bought this house for us after all. He’s a good son.”
What?
You glance at Taehyung in surprise, intrigued to learn more about this new bit of information. However, seemingly flustered by the comment, you decide it’s better to save it for another time. His mother is quick to step in.
“Taehyung, dear, why don’t you show __ around and introduce her to everyone?” she suggests smoothly. “They’re all in the living room. We’ll gather everyone to have lunch soon.”
Taehyung nods at the suggestion and begins leading you through the house, until you reach the living room at the end of the hall. The room is even larger than you anticipated upon entering, its high ceilings finished with a delicate glass chandelier. A grand piano sits in the far corner as well where a number of children huddle together, each taking turns playing a few notes.
One by one, Taehyung starts introducing you to his relatives and despite your initial apprehension, each person you meet greets you with nothing but warmth and kindness. Not even a single person shows discomfort towards you or makes a dig into your personal life (though you’re certain they’re well aware of who you are). It’s no wonder Taehyung boasts about his family so often—they truly are a close-knit and respectable group of people.
At least, that’s what you think until Taehyung asks, “Where's Auntie and Uncle? I haven’t seen them yet.”
One of Taehyung’s cousins looks a bit hesitant before replying, “Oh, Tae, I’m sorry, but we haven’t heard anything from them so they might not be coming today. Maybe they had last-minute plans. It’s a bit of a shame, really.”
An odd silence settles over the room at this, conversations lower in volume, and a few knowing glances are exchanged among relatives. The abrupt shift seems to throw a wrench into your previous statement of closeness since, evidently, the absence of Taehyung’s aunt and uncle casts a dark shadow over the cheerful gathering.
Sensing an awkward lull, Taehyung tries to lighten the mood with a bright smile. “Well, I’m sure we’ll still have a great time. I’m just happy to see everyone here.” He gently redirects the conversation to something more upbeat, attempting to remedy the unusual tension.
Just then, a small figure bursts into the room, capturing everyone’s attention.
A little girl, no more than six or seven years old, runs straight toward Taehyung with arms outstretched. “Taetae!” she shouts, using the affectionate nickname as she latches herself around his legs.
Taehyung's face breaks into possibly the happiest grin you’ve seen in response as he kneels to lift her up effortlessly, holding her close as she giggles. “Hey, sweetheart! I missed you!” His voice is filled with affection, though there’s a hint of shock as well.
Eagerly, the little girl secures her arms around his neck. “I missed you too! Mommy and Daddy said we might not be able to come, but here we are!”
“Well, I'm so glad! Have you been a good girl for your parents?” he asks with a playful tone.
The little girl nods vigorously. “Yes! I’ve been helping Mommy with so much lately.”
“Good job!” Taehyung says, giving her a high five.
You’re unsure exactly how the two relate, but the longer you watch the interaction unfold, the more evident it becomes that Taehyung’s a natural at connecting with children. His playful demeanor and patience make it clear that he has a special way with them. It’s heartwarming to see, quite honestly.
“Taetae, who’s she?” the little girl asks suddenly, her big, curious eyes setting on you.
Taehyung smiles and gestures for you to come closer. “This is __. She’s my friend.” He looks at you and adds, “This is my little cousin Eun-ha. We’re quite close.”
“Hi, Eun-ha,” you greet with a soft smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
She doesn’t return your greeting, but rather leans into Taehyung’s ear and whispers something you can’t quite hear.
Taehyung chuckles softly, though it does little to conceal your curiosity. “No, Eun-ha,” he says, shaking his head. “We don’t kiss like in my movies. But yes, she's very pretty.”
Though you wish otherwise, your surprise is barely hidden as you process the revelation.
“Why not?” Eun-ha asks, puzzled. “You kiss lots of pretty people in the movies.”
Flustered, Taehyung clears his throat. “Who’s letting you watch my shows? You’re a little young for those I think.”
“She likes to watch them when she can’t see you,” a new voice interjects.
Following the voice, you see two adults entering the room– Taehyung’s aunt and uncle. Their expressions are clearly stiff and somewhat distant, a stark contrast to the warmth of the rest of the family.
“Well, I guess it’s okay then,” Taehyung responds, maintaining his usual beaming smile. “Auntie, Uncle, it’s good to see you.”
His aunt and uncle offer polite but somewhat curt greetings.
“Glad to see you’re alright, Taehyung,” his aunt says, her tone lacking warmth.
“Hello,” his uncle adds, his expression neutral. “I see you’ve brought a guest.” He nods toward you.
“Yes, this is __,” Taehyung introduces you, “She’s a friend of mine and a colleague as well.”
The pair glance at you briefly, their eyes betraying a lack of interest.
“Nice to meet you,” his aunt says, though the thickness in her tone suggests otherwise.
“Likewise,” you respond, trying to match their formality with a friendly smile.
“You know, when I heard my nephew was bringing a guest, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect,” she continues, though the implication is unclear.
“I’m sorry?” you ask, trying to grasp her meaning.
“My apologies. I work as an editor for a journalism outlet, so I’ve come across your name before,” she explains. “It’s always interesting to see people in person after reading about them. I can’t say I ever imagined having the opportunity today.”
“Oh,” you say, trying to keep your composure. “I hope the coverage has been accurate.” You know they haven’t been, aside from a couple of progressive news outlets. Based on her rigid stare, you don’t think she belongs to either of them.
“They’re accurate most of the time,” she replies, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Although, there are always…different perspectives on such matters.”
You offer a polite, tight-lipped smile in response. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, however, your hands unconsciously clench into fists at your sides, indicating your bubbling discomfort.
“Well, I’m sure those articles are just one side of the coin,” Taehyung chimes in, attempting to smooth over the conversation. “I’m of the mindset that you really don’t know a person until you spend time with them. And I can assure you, those overpriced tabloids have it all wrong.” He shoots you a reassuring look.
In the midst of it all, Taehyung’s father steps into the room, oblivious to the tension. “Alright everyone, it’s time to eat!” he announces, his voice carrying a cheerful note. “Let’s gather around now.”
Neither you nor Taehyung’s aunt speak another word to each other as you follow his father into the dining room. You take a deep breath along the way, an attempt to steady yourself.
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As lunch begins, Taehyung’s father stands at the head of the table, a broad smile on his face as he raises a glass.
“We want to thank everyone for being here today to celebrate Taehyung’s recovery,” he begins, his voice filled with heartfelt sincerity. “We’re grateful for this family and for the love and support that has carried us through. To Taehyung!”
“To Taehyung!” everyone echoes, lifting their glasses in a unified cheer.
From then on, the meal progresses smoothly, with conversation gradually returning to pleasant topics. Dishes are passed around, and laughter helps lighten the mood. Taehyung’s parents share stories of their journey together, their voices rich with wisdom and nostalgia. As you listen, you get a glimpse of the morals that have shaped their family. It’s so different from your own upbringing, and you feel honored to be a part of it today.
Yet it's still difficult to ignore the lingering heaviness in your chest from your earlier interaction with Taehyung’s aunt. Even now, her sour expression is directed your way, though she seems to withhold her remarks, perhaps due to Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s presence.
Don’t take this personally, you repeat in your head. There’s likely some underlying history or traditional views being projected onto you. This isn’t really about you…don't take it personally.
Midway through the meal, Taehyung’s mother intrigues everyone by pulling out a collection of old photographs. She begins sharing the backstories of various childhood photos of Taehyung, the corners of her eyes crinkling with joy and amusement as she recounts each memory. Taehyung, visibly flustered, tries to hide his blush as his family teases him.
“Oh, look at this one!” his mother exclaims, holding up a particularly old photo of a much younger Taehyung with a hilariously exaggerated hairstyle. “He was so determined to be a rock star!”
The room bursts into laughter, and Taehyung grins sheepishly, his cheeks rosy. “Is this really necessary? I mean __’s here…”
“Come on, Tae, it’s cute!” you say with a smile, giving his arm a playful shove. As you do, Taehyung’s aunt’s eyes widen slightly. Her gaze shifts sharply between you two, and a flicker of disapproval crosses her face. You stop your playfulness upon first notice, finding it hard to ignore.
“It’s embarrassing,” Taehyung retorts, unaware of his aunt’s reaction.
“Oh hush,” his mother replies with a warm smile. “Let a mother indulge in the memories of her children. You’re all grown up now, and with your busy schedule, I hardly see you anymore.”
“Alright, fair point,” Taehyung concedes. “Carry on.”
When the meal winds down, Taehyung’s aunt clears her throat and speaks up. “Is everyone ready for dessert? I’ve baked a homemade cake,” she announces, tone carrying a hint of forced cheerfulness. Turning to you, she adds, “Would you mind assisting me in the kitchen, __? I could use an extra hand.”
Taehyung immediately offers to help, but his aunt insists on speaking with you alone, masking it as an opportunity to get to know you better.
Once you’re in the kitchen and away from prying eyes and ears, Taehyung’s aunt’s demeanor shifts abruptly. She returns to her previous blunt and unreserved nature. “I need to be honest with you,” she begins, her voice low and steely. “I don’t think you should be here.”
Her words sting, yet a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s some merit to them.
“I know this is a family event, and I’m sorry if it seems like I’m intruding. Taehyung invited me.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” she dismisses, venom lacing her tone. “I mean, you shouldn’t be here with Taehyung.”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to—”
“Oh please, don’t pretend I don’t have eyes, Ms. __,” she interjects sharply. The use of your formal name sends a chill down your spine. “You may be friends now, but I can see there’s more going on beneath the surface. Unlike the rest of my family, I won’t just stand by and let it happen. So, if you think you can charm your way into my nephew’s life just like you did with that ex-husband of yours, then you’re mistaken. I won’t allow you to ruin his life.”
Ruin his life? You ruined Jungkook’s life and now you are about to ruin Taehyung’s? Confused and hurt, you finally realize the root of the matter–she's convinced you’re a gold digger.
You’re stunned by the accusation, struggling to find words as she continues. “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind either. Even if the articles aren’t exactly true, you still have a past, and Taehyung deserves better—someone without all these complications. Don’t you agree? Maybe if you hadn’t been married before and were ten years younger, things might be different. But honestly? A woman your age should already have a family of her own.”
Silence falls heavily in the kitchen after her final words, the only sound being your labored breaths. Your throat goes dry and your hands clammy as some of your deepest insecurities take root, striking right at your core.
It’s true—you’re 30 years old, divorced, and without children. It’s a stark contrast to your peers.
You’d always imagined your life turning out differently, but here you are, alone and without any kind of companionship. You weren’t expecting to be reminded of it all today.
“I think you’ve made yourself clear about how you feel,” a voice speaks up, and you think it’s yours, until you realize it’s much too deep.
Taehyung’s aunt looks momentarily stunned to see her nephew standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. But she quickly regains her composure. “Taehyung, I was just—”
“Please don’t,” he interrupts, voice firm. “If I had known you were going to be this cruel towards someone I deeply care about, then I’m sorry I invited you.”
He steps closer, his gaze unwavering. “You have no right to judge someone you don’t know based on rumors and assumptions.”
His aunt’s face softens, though her disapproval remains. “I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I don’t need you to protect me from my own choices,” Taehyung replies, his voice calmer. “I’ve made my own decisions, and __ is a part of that. If you can’t respect that, then maybe you should reconsider how you approach these situations.”
Taehyung’s aunt stands silent for a moment, her gaze shifting between Taehyung and you. She seems to weigh his words before finally nodding and turning back towards the dining room, her displeasure still evident.
Taehyung turns to you, his face etched with worry. “Are you alright?”
You hesitate, unable to give a clear response. “I… I think I need some air,” you finally say.
“Maybe it’s time we take that walk down to the beach,” he suggests gently. “What do you think? Of course, if you’d prefer to go solo, that’s completely your call too. I’ll understand either way.”
You nod, appreciating the idea. “I’d like you to come with me.”
“Let me grab Tan and we can head down,” Taehyung says with a reassuring smile.
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The sound of the waves grows louder as you approach the ocean, providing a soothing backdrop to your racing thoughts. It's even more beautiful up close, you think, observing how the sun reflects off the water.
As you walk along the shore, Tan runs ahead, chasing the waves and barking playfully. The sight of him brings a small smile to your face, easing some of the heaviness in your chest.
Taehyung walks beside you, his presence peaceful, though neither of you are quick to speak.
Finally, after a few minutes pass, he breaks the silence.
“I’m really sorry about what happened back there," he says quietly. "My aunt's always had more traditional perspectives, but I didn’t know how rigid they’d gotten. Regardless of how she might've made you feel, I want you to know that you’re very important to me and I couldn't care less about what the public says. The rest of my family seems to love you too so far."
You take a deep breath, the salty air filling your lungs. “It’s not your fault, Taehyung. But thank you.” You pause, your face visibly conflicted. “To be honest, I’ve heard variations of it before from other people. I just didn’t expect her to be so… direct.”
He nods, turning to you with sincerity. “I know it was hurtful, and even though I didn’t hear everything she said, you didn’t deserve it. It's not true, either.”
You manage a small, tight-lipped smile, but it hardly matches how you feel inside. “Well,” you begin, continuing your walk, “some of it's true, I think.” Taehyung looks at you with concern, though you struggle to hold his gaze.
“Wanna sit?” he suggests lightly, gesturing to a spot on the beach with a clear view of the waves ahead. "Tan'll be fine to roam around on his own."
You nod slowly in reply, a gentle breeze caressing your face and feathering against your legs as you move.
Once you reach the area, you tuck the skirt of your dress beneath your thighs and take a seat on the soft sand. Taehyung sits down beside you.
“So,” he starts again, his eyes never leaving your face, “what’s true?"
You take a moment, watching the waves crash against the shore before forming a response. “It’s just…” Your voice falters as you search for the right words. “I’m 30 years old. The natural course for someone my age is to have a family, a couple of kids, and of course, be married. Or at the very least, have a reliable romantic partner.”
“Instead,” you take a short breath, “it feels like I’m living in a completely different reality from everyone else. Divorced from a big shot CEO, without children, and painted as some kind of spinster or gold digger for the media to exploit. Being a woman, there's really no in-between which makes it that much harder to overcome."
Upon finishing your thought, an unmistakable nervousness bubbles up within you. Had you just overshared? Were you too honest? Although unsettled, everything in you hopes that you didn't just overstep your boundaries with Taehyung, as the two of you hadn't had this deep of a conversation before. You find yourself holding your breath as he replies.
"To have all that unnecessary pressure placed on you is unfair,” he says quietly. “I can’t imagine how tough it must be to feel disregarded and reduced to so little. I'm so sorry, __. I'm sorry that we gets so fixated on image and what’s deemed proper that we often forget the real meaning behind things. I know it might be hard to believe, but there’s more to your story than what others see or say. More than even you might think, too."
As if inevitable, your vision goes misty and a tear spills down your cheek upon hearing his words, though you're quick to wipe it away. It's not that the words themselves are monumental, but rather, they confirm the closeness of your relationship. Few people have ever understood or cared to understand you, so you had stopped expecting it altogether, especially after your divorce. Yet somehow, Taehyung always surprises you, being one of the few who truly does.
Feeling a bit more comfortable, you admit, "I know it's probably an overstatement, but I can't help but feel like I'm alone in ways that are hard to escape. Some days I just don't know what to do with it all. Does that make sense?"
“Sweetheart,” Taehyung says softly, taking the hand you used to wipe your tears and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his touch sends a comforting spark through you. He’s never called you that before, and it feels unexpectedly intimate—almost domestic, if you didn’t know better.
“It makes complete sense, especially given what you've gone through and still are. You don’t ever have to feel alone anymore though,” he continues. “I’m here for you. You have Jimin and Namjoon too. And the three of us? We’ll always have your back.”
Your eyes soften as you meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with such warmth and innocence, yet he hasn’t fully grasped the weight of your words.
“I appreciate it,” you say gratefully. “It’s not all one-dimensional, though. When I say I feel alone, I mean relationally as well because, given my age and marital status, it's unlikely I'll find any real companionship. I’m just considered ‘used goods' after all.”
“Used goods? Who the hell said you're used?” Taehyung’s voice rises, not in anger but in genuine offense. Amid his reaction, his hand slips from yours.
“Our entire society?” you retort, raising your voice before lowering it again, realizing he means well. You pull your legs up to your chin and hug them. “I’m divorced, Tae. I’m no beauty queen. Just used goods, as I said.”
You both stare out into the distance, falling into a brief silence.
“Well, I for one think you’re very gorgeous,” he says softly, still gazing ahead. “So please, don’t call yourself used. You’re definitely not.”
“Tae—”
“Do you wish you were still married?” he interjects gently, eyes returning to yours, searching for the truth. He wants to add, To Jungkook? but keeps it to himself, not deeming it his business.
You take a moment to process his question before responding.
“Some days I do,” you admit. “Not just with anyone, though. I’ve already learned my lesson the hard way. Jimin tried setting me up with a few of his coworkers a while back, but I declined. They’re so far away that I doubt anything would work out. Plus, not to be harsh but who in their right mind would risk it with me anyway?”
“I mean...I would,” he replies almost immediately, insistence in his voice. There's no trace of bluff at all and for a moment, your heart feels like it's doing about a hundred somersaults in your chest. Taehyung's seriousness makes it seem like he means it in a deeper way, but it can't be—he’s merely speaking figuratively because of your closeness.
“Of course you would,” you reply, grabbing his hand again and smiling gratefully. “Because you love me, right?”
You pose the question playfully, feeling your mood lift slightly, but Taehyung’s expression turns stunned, like a deer caught in headlights.
“I do,” he finally murmurs, deep and meaningful, a soft glimmer in his eyes. “I really do.”
"Hu-" you choke on your words, still trying to process his. You never finish, though, as Taehyung suddenly moves to stand up, a newfound cheekiness taking precedence over his face.
“Come on,” he says, “on a warm day like this, we should find a way to enjoy ourselves. Dance with me.”
“What?” you ask, though to be honest, you're not surprised by his spontaneity. “Dancing is a no, Tae. You know I have zero rhythm.”
He doesn’t reply to your argument but instead draws his phone from his pocket, tapping around until light jazz music starts playing. He turns up the volume as loud as he can before placing it on the ground beside you.
“What are you doing?” you watch as he begins swaying his body from side to side, snapping his fingers when the beat feels right.
“I’m dancing by myself since you refuse to get up.”
You laugh, “I happen to like it this way. You can be my source of entertainment.” You adjust yourself so your legs are stretched out in front of you, feet crossed as you lean back on your arms.
He chuckles and continues dancing in small circles. You feel a little guilty the longer you watch. But then...
“__,” he calls your name, low and raspy. He steps over towards you and leans down until he's face to face with you. You like the way the sun glows down on his face, and the thought crosses your mind—he looks incredibly handsome. “__,” he calls your name again, and you realize you've been staring a little too long.
“Sorry,” you reply. “Sun’s making me dazed.”
He gives his usual boxy smile, and damn, why are you feeling so affected by him today? It’s not usually this much.
“Will you please dance with me? I don’t mind dancing by myself, but I prefer a partner.” He pouts and you know you’re done for.
“I’m not going to be good though,” you reply, reluctantly rising from your comfortable seated position. Taehyung pulls you into his hold the moment you’re on your feet. It's a little rougher than he meant, and your bodies accidentally collide in the process.
“Shit, my bad,” he says, taking a small step back.
“It’s fine," you assure, doing the same but not before catching a whiff of his cologne. You can't quite place the scent, but it’s nice...really, really nice.
As the music continues to play, you both sway gently to the rhythm. Taehyung’s touch is warm and steady as he guides you through each simple step. You feel a strange sense of comfort and safety in his arms, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away.
“I didn’t realize you were such a good dancer,” you start. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”
He spins you gently, and you let out a surprised laugh, the sound mingling with the soft notes of the jazz music. “I had to take ballroom dancing lessons for a role I played years ago,” he replies smoothly, “but I enjoyed it, so I kept it up.” When you come back to him, he holds you a little tighter, and the closeness feels more intimate and special than you anticipated.
“You’re doing great, by the way,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Even with barely any practice."
“All thanks to you,” you reply, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I guess it’s kinda fun.”
“See? Not so bad,” he says with a triumphant grin.
You glance towards the ocean, feeling a rush of spontaneity yourself. “The water looks so inviting. We should go in.”
He quirks a brow, taking in both of your more formal attire. “Dressed like this?” he asks.
You don’t answer. Instead, you slide out of his hold and run towards the water, laughing and splashing him once he’s close enough behind you.
“Hey! This was expensive!” he shouts, but there's no threat in his voice, only amusement.
“Well, you shouldn’t have worn it around me then!” you tease, splashing him again.
Now nearly drenched, Taehyung huffs and bends down to scoop water into his palm. “You’re gonna get it…” You back away quickly, but he follows after you. “Come here, I have a very special gift for you __,” he says mischievously, water spilling from his hand as he chases you.
You both end up playing in the water for the next ten minutes, splashing and laughing until you find yourself regaining confidence. At some point, Taehyung unexpectedly tackles you from behind, his arms wrapping so tightly around your waist that no amount of movement would free you.
You find yourselves too lost in amusement to notice your closeness until small droplets of water begin falling from above.
"Was that rain?" You stop all movement, but his grip doesn’t loosen. "Tae?" You call his name when it seems he doesn’t register your question, twisting your head over your shoulder to peer at him.
“Oh…um, sorry,” he finally stammers, a faint blush rising to his cheeks as he realizes the tight hold he has on you. His body flushes against your back.
“No, it’s okay…” you struggle to conceal a blush of your own, the warmth of his embrace a little overpowering. "So, I think we should head back. I'm pretty sure it's raining."
He nods and slowly unwraps his arms from around you. "I agree, but where's Tan?" His eyes frantically scan around the beach. "Tan!" he calls, and soon, two fluffy, slightly damp ears pop out from behind a rock.
"Aww," you exclaim, bending down to pick up the little dog when he trots over. "Look at him. We neglected the baby."
Taehyung snorts at your remark. "He'll be okay. It barely started."
You pretend to cover Tan's ears and shoot Taehyung a faux alarmed expression. "He can hear you, you know."
Taehyung chuckles and gently cups Tan’s face while he nestles in your arms, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head. “Sorry, buddy,” he says with a grin. As he looks up, he catches a prolonged gaze in your eyes and raises an eyebrow. “What? You want one too?”
“Oh, uhm, no,” you laugh, a bit nervously, shaking your head. “It’s just nice to see you so endearing.” You think back to how Taehyung had interacted so sweetly with his younger cousin, Eun-ha, earlier. It’s a side of him you're finding increasingly appealing.
Taehyung's gaze softens as he replies, “I like to take care of those I love.”
Love, you repeat quietly to yourself. It sounds so different when he says it.
You smile and, side by side, head back to the house.
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The faint drizzle of rain quickly turns into a downpour, with a flash of lightning illuminating the sky and thunder rumbling in the distance. Despite the potential inconvenience, Taehyung’s parents insist that it would be better for both of you to wait until morning to drive back.
"It isn't safe," his mom advises, fluffing a pillow in the guest bedroom. "The two of you can stay here for the night. I’d offer the living room sofa too, but some of your cousins are staying over as well."
"Thanks, Mom," Taehyung replies, and when she leaves the room he casts a brief glance your way. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“What? No, you can sleep in the bed with Tan." You pause, eyes scanning the room for an alternative spot. “This chair looks pretty comfortable. I’ll grab a blanket and make do.”
"Okay no, I’m not letting you sleep on that old, dusty chair and risk waking up with a giant kink in your neck.” Taehyung places his hands on his hips, his tone firm. “Why don’t we just sleep in the bed together? For some inexplicable reason, my parents chose to put a California King in here so there should be plenty of room. I’ll even sleep on top of the covers.”
“No, it's fine. Tan needs his space."
“Sweetheart." There it is again, that same petname from earlier. Why do you not seem to hate it? "Tan is so tiny he’ll literally curl between us," he argues, though it does little to convince you.
“Tae, I told you it’s—”
“Alright, I’ll take the chair then-” Taehyung starts to move toward it, but stubbornly, you block his path. There's no way he's sleeping on a chair when you're the guest here.
“You will do no such thing!" Naturally, you place your hands on your hips. “This is your home—well, your parent's home and I won't be subjecting you to sleep on something that small. Seriously Tae, I'd fit much better on it than you would given our height differences.”
A small, frustrated sigh escapes him as he counters, “I'd really rather you be comfortable, especially in an unfamiliar environment. So can we please stop arguing about this? It’s really unnecessary. Either I take the chair or we both find a way to share the bed. You can’t tell me you and Jimin never shared a bed before, and he’s your friend too!"
“Yes, but that’s different,” you insist. “Jimin and I have been friends for years! There’s a strong trust built between us.”
“What do you mean by that? You don’t trust me?” His face mirrors that of a sad, puppy-dog.
“Tae, it’s not that at all,” you say softly, trying to sound reassuring. “I do trust you. It’s just… I guess I just meant that Jimin and I have a long history together. We’ve grown very comfortable with each other in ways you and I haven’t yet.”
Taehyung’s brows furrow in concern. “What are you really worried about, __?”
You shrug, feeling a bit flustered. “Nothing…”
Your mind immediately drifts back to the beach—how he listened, held your hand gently, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, and what it felt like to be held so close under the rain. Everything felt so genuine, warm, and openly vulnerable.
You share similar feelings with Jimin, but they have limits as you are definitely only friends… best friends, to be precise. With Taehyung, you figured it would be the same; however, after today, you're realizing more and more how unsure you are of where the limits are (or where you want them to be), and it startles you.
But it’s not this alone that fuels your apprehension tonight— there’s something else.
“You know I won’t do anything right?” Taehyung asks, his voice earnest. “I sleep with five pillows!”
You raise an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Five? What the hell, Tae? Are you a princess?”
“Yes,” Taehyung says, more nonchalantly than expected, “but stop deflecting. It sounds weird and a bit kinky, but why won’t you sleep in the bed with me?”
Should you tell him?
Your expression grows serious as you explain, “Because it can be very intimate,” you murmur softly. “Maybe I'm overthinking it all, but the last time I shared a bed with someone it...uhm...it was…”
“...with your ex-husband,” Taehyung finishes for you, his tone gentle with understanding. His eyes soften as he looks at you.
“Yes…” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s silly, but I haven’t done it in a long time. Even Jimin and I haven’t shared a bed in years.”
“I’m sorry…” Taehyung says, his voice filled with genuine regret.
“Tae, you don’t have to be sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “It’s my own issue. I’ll just sleep on the chair, alright? It’s only one night.”
“Not happening, you’ll take the bed with Tan.”
“Seriously,” you start to protest, but he’s already moving toward the foot of the bed with determination in his eyes. He grabs the blanket from the end and rushes over to the chair with haste. You run after him, pulling at his arm, and both of you end up laughing, the tension gradually breaking.
“It's been a very long day and I'm quite tired, __. How about turning off the lights, please?” He spreads out the blanket and settles into the chair with a satisfied sigh. Then, there’s a loud creak followed by a distinct cracking sound.
“Fuck—” Taehyung swears as the chair suddenly collapses under his weight. He rises from his seat, grimacing at the broken chair. “I knew it was old, but damn, I didn’t think it was that old.”
“Shit, please tell me this wasn't a family heirloom or something.”
“Uh… I don’t think so?” Taehyung scratches his head, looking sheepish. “I’ll let my mom know in the morning. It’ll be fine, okay? No worries. But, um, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.” Taehyung then grabs a couple pillows and a blanket and starts forming a makeshift bed on the floor. While you watch him, your heart softens despite your exhaustion.
“Alright, enough,” you sigh, exasperated. “If we keep this up, we’ll just be going in circles all night. Let’s just share the bed, Tae. It’s not worth you being uncomfortable.”
Taehyung looks up, concern written over his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable either. I’m happy to—”
“I’m sure,” you cut him off, doing your best not to overthink it. “You're the one who'll be driving for five hours tomorrow anyway, so let’s just get some decent rest. It's okay, really.”
After a good long pause, you both end up climbing into the bed, each taking your own side as Tan curls himself at the foot of the bed. Taehyung reaches over to turn off the light, but despite the calmness of the room, you find yourself unable to sleep right away. You’re unaware he feels similarly until he unexpectedly breaks the silence.
“Are you warm enough?” he asks quietly. “We have more blankets if you need them.”
You turn slightly toward him. “I’m okay for now, but thanks for checking.”
He gives a soft, reassuring smile. “Alright. Just let me know if you need anything. Sleep well.”
“Thanks, Tae.” You roll back onto your side and close your eyes. “You too.”
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As the night deepens, the storm outside continues its relentless drumming against the windows. At some point, Taehyung jolts awake to a faint but unmistakable sound.
He blinks groggily at first, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains. Then he notices your restless movements and hears you murmuring softly in your sleep, a note of distress in your voice.
"__?" he asks quietly, still half-asleep. "Are you okay?"
When you don’t respond, he shifts closer, concerned by the unease on your face. Seeing your share of the blankets has slipped off, he gently tugs them back over you, making sure they cover you comfortably.
Amid the movement, a muddled groan escapes your lips—something between a whimper and a sigh, "Mmm… no…"
It doesn't take a genius to figure out you must be having a nightmare of some sort. “It’s just a dream,” he whispers soothingly, brushing a stray hair from your face. “You’re safe here with me.”
He gently takes your slightly trembling hand and holds it gently in his. “I’m right here, __,” he sighs softly. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here.”
Taehyung isn’t sure how much time passes before your restlessness stops, but he stays awake, hand clutching yours until it does. Eventually, assuming you’ve finally entered a more peaceful sleep, he releases your hand and rolls onto his side.
What he doesn't expect is for you to unconsciously follow him over, your body snuggling against his back. The warmth of your body against his is comforting, but he knows he can't let you stay there and risk any awkwardness in the morning. So with the utmost care, he rolls over to face you and gently adjusts your body until you're lying comfortably on your back again.
"I hope you'll be able to sleep better now," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the storm. "Goodnight."
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Following the reunion, you and Taehyung part ways with mutual thank-yous and promises to see each other soon.
Time seems to vanish afterward as you find yourself increasingly buried under an endless pile of work projects. Apparently, over the weekend, a notable investor reached out to your company with hopes of setting up a meeting.
Namjoon is nearly tripping over his words when he relays the message to you.
"Can you believe it?" Your secretary stands within a foot from your desk, excitement evident in his voice. "They want to meet with us! This could be huge for our company."
You share his enthusiasm but your need to remain holistic in the matter tempers your ability to feel overly zealous. Meetings with investors always carry significant opportunities; however, there's no guarantee a deal will be struck. Truthfully, it depends on a number of factors, their level of interest outweighing them all.
Plus, every meeting requires extensive preparation—late nights where you tirelessly hunch over your computer, perfecting every detail of the pitch and this one promises to be no different.
"Did they happen to mention a time or date for further discussion?" you ask, matter-of-factly. Namjoon nods, pulling out his phone.
"Yes, they suggested next Wednesday at 10 AM.”
You weigh the proposal in your mind. “That should give us enough time to get everything in order, then,” you conclude. “Please put it in our calendar and let them know we’ll be ready to meet on that day.”
From then on, the remainder of your week unfolds exactly as you anticipate—relentless preparation, long nights, and meticulous planning until the small of your back aches for relief. One might say it's an exaggeration, but the only breaks you can afford are for primal necessities like eating, sleeping, and using the bathroom.
Even your weekend is spent within the walls of your home office, a far cry from previous weekends when you used to visit the book café or meet up with Taehyung.
Speaking of which, you haven’t really gotten to see each other since his family gathering and though it was only a week ago, the lack of his presence leaves you feeling a bit disheartened. He replied to your text yesterday, but even so, it was brief—something about a new project or talk show interview was keeping him busy as well.
By the time Wednesday arrives, your neck is so riddled with the stress of the upcoming investor meeting that you can barely focus on your proposal notes. Everything in you hopes that the investors will be impressed enough to partner with you, but thinking about it does nothing except heighten your nervousness.
In search of some kind of solace, your mind wanders to Taehyung instead. The memory of the small dance you shared with him on the beach is once again vivid, as if it happened just moments ago—the soft sand beneath your feet, the sound of the waves, and the way his gentle hands gripped around your waist.
But why does this memory, out of all the possibilities, feel so soothing?
You've been struggling to come to a plausible conclusion since the day it happened, yet deep down, you know it’s not as trivial as it seems. You miss it, your subconscious hums, you miss him.
Just then, Namjoon pokes his head into your office, signaling that the investors have arrived in the conference room. You send a curt nod in reply and gather your notes, refocusing your mind on the task at hand; everything else will have to wait.
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Turns out, you might have been a bit too pessimistic about the investor meeting. They’re surprisingly pleased with your plans and proposals, nodding along to each of your points. However, their request for a day or two to reach a final decision catches you a tad off guard.
Rather than grapple with the uncertainty though, you decide to mentally prepare for whatever comes next... starting by decompressing at the bar downtown, a glass of their strongest alcohol in hand.
At first, finding a seat proves to be a challenge as you navigate through a sea of sweaty bodies. But luck, seemingly on your side, provides you with an empty chair at the far end of the bar. While you sit and order your drink, you can't help but wonder what Taehyung might be doing tonight. Should you text him to see if he’d join you, even if only for fifteen minutes?
Slipping your phone from the side pocket of your bag, you curse silently at your apparent haste. Your subconscious was right—you really have missed him, damn.
All at once, your thoughts are put to an abrupt stop when you take a quick glance around the bar, your gaze unprepared to land on two familiar silhouettes at the opposite end—Namjoon, with Taehyung next to him, drinks in hand. You don’t know how you failed to notice them before. They’re laughing, clearly enjoying each other’s company, and for a moment, your face lifts into a smile.
But that smile quickly fades when you catch sight of two women sauntering over to join them. Your initial joy is swiftly replaced by a sharp sting of jealousy and you chastise yourself for the feeling. Who are you to react this way? Taehyung can do whatever he wants—why should you care who he’s out with?
Forcing yourself to shake off the feeling, you take a sip of your drink, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the group. It’s obvious that the taller of the two women, arguably as stunning as Taehyung, is laser-focused on him, her hand brushing his arm lightly as she laughs at whatever joke he’s just told. Probably a dumb one, you think bitterly; it's obvious she's not just there for the humor and booze. It's strange to witness, as you've only known Taehyung to allow a few, select women to touch him so openly—his mother, his onscreen cast members, and you.
Okay __, stop, you scold yourself. This is a bad idea; you’re getting too involved for your own good. Hastily, you finish your drink and head out of the bar, the cool night air brushing against your skin. If Taehyung goes home with her, it’s none of your business.
You're barely a few feet outside the bar's door when you hear commotion echo from a nearby alley. Alarmed, you whip towards the noise, your eyes widening in disbelief. There, in the dim light, you see your ex-husband doubled over, clutching his stomach, while a shadowy figure stands in front of him, fist clenched.
You’re not sure where the courage comes from, but within seconds, you're springing to action, racing towards the scene with a surge of adrenaline. “Hey!” you shout as loudly as you can. The attacker glances back, frazzled, then bolts into the night, leaving Jungkook hunched against the alley wall.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask frantically, rushing to his side and helping him to his feet. He flinches away from your touch initially, his face a mix of panic and agony. “It’s me, Jungkook. It's __. Can you hear me? It’s okay, I’m here,” you reassure him the best you can, hoping to ease him.
Jungkook takes a few shaky breaths, body still weak as he struggles to hold himself up against the wall. His eyes are glazed, and he seems disoriented. “I… I didn’t expect you,” he mutters, his voice strained.
Offering him an arm, you help him steady himself. “Let’s get you out of here, okay?” He nods weakly, and as you guide him towards the parking lot and into the light, you ask, "What happened back there? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"
Jungkook sighs, wincing slightly. “No, it’s... I’m fine. He was just a kid—no more than 21. Angry, probably a little drunk, and accused me of being the reason his father got fired. At first, I was confused, but then I vaguely recognized him as being one of our employee’s sons. Pretty sure it was my dad who fired his—I was probably just an easier target."
You both fall into a contemplative silence as you continue walking. Of course Jungkook's father, the chairman of the company, would be behind this, you think. Previous times spent with him had shown you how ruthless he could be when it came to the "well-being" of his company. Whoever the kid was, he probably had a right to be angry, but physically taking it out on Jungkook wasn’t justifiable by any means.
“You sure you don’t need a doctor?” you ask, glancing at him with concern.
He shakes his head dismissively, "Don't worry about me," he replies. "A couple of punches to the gut won't kill me. I think it's about time I head home though."
You nod in agreement. “Where did you park?”
He points to a spot on the far left side of the parking lot, and you nearly groan at the sight. “Did you have to bring your bike tonight?” you ask, a hint of exasperation in your voice.
Jungkook gives a weak smile, understanding the inconvenience of the situation. “Thought I’d ride it in case I needed to get somewhere fast,” he replies, his voice strained but with a touch of humor.
"Come on," you say, walking him toward your car instead. "We might not be married anymore, but there’s no way in hell I'm letting you ride your bike home in this condition. You can pick it up tomorrow."
Jungkook chuckles weakly. “Damn, and to think we were about to ride it together for old times’ sake. You used to be pretty good with my motorcycle back when you were my girlfriend, __." You roll your eyes, patience thinning. If this is another one of his sexual advances, you’re long over it.
"Yeah, well, that was before Taehyung’s accident scared me half to death," you retort. "And for the record, I was never your girlfriend. We went from work partners straight to I do." You open the passenger door and help him into the seat, giving him a gentle shove. "Now sit tight and no more motorcycle talk."
Jungkook leans back and raises an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “Well, what are we gonna talk about then? It’s a twenty-minute drive to my place.”
You slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine, giving him the go-ahead to enter his address into your car’s GPS. “Are you really whining already?”
As Jungkook taps away on the GPS, you’re suddenly reminded of a series of past car trips you shared with him. It’s almost like déjà vu.
“Seriously, __,” he starts, allowing his playful demeanor to fade. “Thank you for doing this for me. I know we… well, we aren’t exactly on the best terms.”
From the corner of your eye, you observe the way he aimlessly stares out the window, unsure whether to meet your gaze.
"We may not be in the best place, but that doesn’t mean I’d just leave you there," you sigh, gripping the steering wheel tighter. A long pause follows afterward until the question that's been gnawing at you finally slips from your lips. "How's everything with the company?"
Seemingly unfazed, as if he’d been anticipating the question, Jungkook replies, “I’m guessing you’ve heard the rumors.”
“Hard not to,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road.
He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Well, it's um... it's a sabbatical. I know it's probably a shock, right? My father isn’t too thrilled about it, so he’s delayed the official announcement until we reach a final consensus. But things have been... complicated. Our newest product launched recently, and it’s doing well, but now I think I need some time for myself. To take a step back.”
Well, shit.
Even with all the rumors, you never would have guessed in a million years that the truth of the matter was an impending sabbatical. Jungkook has always been the type to work himself until his hands bleed, so this is the last reason you expected to hear.
“I’m glad to hear you’re finally letting yourself have a break, but honestly, it doesn’t sound like you at all. Feel free not to share, but what do you mean by ‘complicated’?” The way he frames it sounds almost ominous.
“You really want to know?” He finally glances at you for the first time since getting into the car, his eyes carrying a hint of vulnerability.
“Only if you want to share,” you reply cautiously.
He looks down at his hands, gathering his thoughts. “So, remember when we last saw each other a few months back? Well, I’ve been reflecting a lot on our relationship since then. I know I wasn’t fair to you, __, and I really wish I could take it all back. You never deserved any of it. I was incredibly selfish and I’m truly sorry.”
You remain silent, thrown off by how quickly everything circles back to your fragile past together. Still, you allow him to speak.
"Before we parted ways, you suggested I see a professional, and… I thought I'd finally take your advice for once. It’s strange because I’d never gone before, but…”
He pauses, searching for the right words. “I’m starting to understand a lot about myself—why I react the way I do and how I handle things. It’s been tough, but I’m trying. I guess I’m taking this sabbatical because I need to figure myself out, away from work, so I can be better and stop hurting people around me."
For the first time in a long time, as you listen to your ex-husband, you realize he's beginning to sound genuinely mature. If it's true that he's been seeing a therapist and taking a sabbatical to prioritize his well-being, then you're extremely proud of him.
Yet, a small part of you remains stubborn, wishing he had made these changes earlier—imagine where you might be now if he had.
“Thank you for being open enough to share this with me," you respond slowly, careful not to misspeak. "Though I’m still a little surprised, I have to say I’m really proud of you for seeking help. I’ve been seeing someone as well, and it took me some time to settle in too, but I suppose that’s part of the healing process—being uncomfortable to an extent. We’ve had our share of challenges with one another, but despite everything, I’ll always wish the best for you, Jungkook—including your health and mental well-being.”
As you pull into the driveway of his house, parking the car near the front door, Jungkook takes a deep breath and turns to you, visibly affected. "It means a lot that you'd say that, __," he starts hesitantly, hands fidgeting in his lap. "I know I've made a lot of mistakes, and I understand if you can't forgive me completely. But I want you to know that I am sorry. I wasn’t fair to you and I'm not proud of my behavior at all."
You nod in response, a small, tight-lipped smile forming. His remorse for the past is finally sincere, yet even now, as he looks at you with those hopeful eyes—the same ones you carried for months on end—you know he's searching for more than just your forgiveness.
But this time, you don’t think you can offer him more than that.
Because while you grew fond of him during your marriage, you've come to realize how unearned and misplaced that affection was. He broke your heart not once, but twice. And although you can never hate him, deep down, you can't ignore the lingering sting you feel when you're around him.
It's both sobering and eye-opening.
So, rather than reversing into old emotions, you simply say, "I believe you, Jungkook, and I think with time I'll be able to forgive you. If there’s ever a time when you’re in dire need of help, like tonight, I’ll do my best to be there. I’m afraid that’s as far as we can go, though."
It’s written all over his face that it’s not what he was hoping to hear, but respectfully, he doesn’t press further.
"I understand," he says, fingers reaching to for the passenger door handle. "Thank you again for being there for me tonight, and for driving me home. Please feel free to reach out if you ever need me as well. I hope for the best for you too, however and with whoever you choose."
The two of you exchange a brief look of gratitude before he finally pulls the door open and steps out of the car, making his way to his front door.
"Have a good night, and rest up," you call out to him. He smiles, gives a wave, and heads inside.
As you slowly back out of the driveway, you sigh, leaving only one person ruminating in your mind: Taehyung.
Then, inevitably, images of the stunning woman at the bar with him intrude your thoughts, stirring a deep, unsettling emotion within you.
Does it really matter that much who he's out with?
Are you really that jealous about it?
Mentally, you go back and forth as if plucking petals from a large sunflower… Yes. No. Yes. No. Until—Silence.
You can't seem to give a straight answer. It's like the closer you and Taehyung grow, the more undefinable and knotted your feelings become. Yet, the further apart you are, the more unnatural it feels...
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Well, your indecisiveness doesn’t get any better by Friday because, finally, after what feels like an eternity, you and Taehyung have plans.
You’re heading out for dinner at a restaurant of his choosing tonight, as he insisted you go somewhere new. Where could it be? You have no clue, and while surprises aren’t usually your thing, his enthusiasm when you confirmed plans earlier has left you intrigued. There’s also this faint, inexplicably giddy feeling in your stomach that won’t go away, coinciding with a slight nervousness.
With such a seemingly important occasion, you find yourself in front of your bedroom mirror, twisting from side to side in what’s probably the fifth outfit you’ve tried on. But nothing seems to fit quite right. You’re feeling especially frustrated to be frank, as something that usually takes you twenty minutes is turning into a whole hour.
You end up tossing one final dress over your head—a bit more elegant for the occasion, but it’s one of the few items you own that accentuates your body down to the last detail. The dress hugs around your waist and falls just above your knees, its rich color perfectly complementing your skin tone. But isn’t it a little revealing? The neckline dips down further than you remember.
Crap—the alarm on your phone suddenly chimes, reminding you that Taehyung's arriving in ten minutes. You're running out of time.
"You’re being ridiculous. It’ll be fine,” you reassure yourself, smoothing down the skirt of the dress. “You're just friends. He won’t care.”
“Friends” stings more than you anticipated, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a deflated feeling in your chest.
Nevertheless, you give yourself one last look in the mirror, apply a quick swipe of lipstick, and head downstairs. Just as you finish slipping on your shoes and grabbing your purse from the coat rack, the doorbell rings, causing your heart to leap from your chest.
Deciding to rip it off like a band-aid, you toss open the door, and there he is—standing on your doorstep with his signature boxy grin and gently tousled raven hair. Taehyung's dressed in a tailored blazer and matching slacks over a crisp white t-shirt, and you find yourself at a complete loss for words as if you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be around him.
Maybe it’s something in the air, but he appears equally stunned, looking you up and down with wide eyes. His gaze soon softens into admiration as he takes in your entire appearance. “Wow,” he chokes, clearly impressed. “You look amazing.”
You feel a rush of warmth at his compliment and muster all your strength to keep from looking away flustered. “Thank you,” your voice wavers slightly. “You look pretty great yourself.”
Tongue in cheek, he replies with a playful smirk, “I was hoping you’d say that,” which prompts you to lightly punch him in the arm.
“Don't be arrogant.”
He chuckles, rubbing his arm with a grin. “Shall we head out?”
You nod and step outside, locking the door behind you.
The drive to the restaurant is a brief one, and you're immediately struck by the charm of its exterior when you arrive—stone walls, covered with vines of ivy and warm glowing lanterns. Inside is even more beautiful, with wooden shelves lined with old books and bottles of fine wine wrapping around the room. You're starting to understand why Taehyung was so insistent on bringing you here; the place perfectly reflects his taste and, unexpectedly, yours as well.
One of the hosts leads you to a deep mahogany table after confirming your reservation. The closer you get to it, the more you notice the crisp white linens and small tealight candles that sit on top, setting a romantic scene. If you had to describe the feeling, it would be as though you’ve been transported straight to a quaint corner of France.
"So, what do you think?” Seated across from you, Taehyung looks at you with bated breath. His fingers fidget with the edge of the table, nervously anticipating your verdict.
“Honestly? It’s so charming,” you reply, glancing around in awe. “I didn’t even realize we had a place like this around.”
At this, his demeanor relaxes, and a pleased smile spreads across his face. “It’s a bit hidden, but once I found it, it quickly became one of my favorite spots.” He pauses, then adds, “This is actually the same restaurant I wanted to take you to months ago, before my accident.”
“What? You’re serious?” you blink in shock as the realization slowly sinks in. You take another look around the restaurant—the rows of books, the bottles of wine, the elegant dining atmosphere—and suddenly, it all makes sense. How did you miss it before? “I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner,” you say softly, regretful of having turned down his offer before.
“It’s okay,” Taehyung's quick to reassure you, reaching out to lightly touch your hand. “What matters is that we’re here now. And honestly, I’m just happy to finally share it with you.” He gives you a warm smile, and immediately, you feel a small lump form in the back of your throat.
“Thank you for bringing us here tonight,” you say, “It’s wonderful, and I’m really glad we could make it up.”
“Of course,” he replies, “I thought it was a place we’d both enjoy.”
Everything about his responses seems to carry a heightened level of endearment and attentiveness, as if there’s more hidden beneath them.
Perhaps selfishly, you also sense there’s something uniquely special about this night—something you believe only exists between the two of you. So, when Taehyung retracts his hand, you feel a fleeting instinct to reach out and grasp it again, but you stop yourself short.
What are you thinking? This isn’t a date.
Needing a distraction, you grab the menu and start scanning the options.
Taehyung sees the way your gaze drifts and tilts his head, a concerned expression on his face. “Everything alright?” he asks gently.
You nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual. “I'm just getting pretty hungry with all the food I smell.”
He chuckles, "Same here," then picks up a menu of his own.
The two of you sit in silence for the next few minutes, fixated on the food and wine list. You find yourself stealing glances at him from time to time, and unbeknownst to you, he does the same.
After the waiter takes your orders, Taehyung leans forward, resting his chin on his palm. “How’s everything at work been? I’ve been meaning to ask.”
Your face lights up at this. “Highs and lows," you reply, voice brightening, "but we got some exciting news today. I met with a potential investor earlier this week, and they’ve agreed to partner with the company. It’s a big win for us!”
Sharing your enthusiasm, Taehyung raises his wine glass, implicating you to follow suit. “This calls for a toast,” he says. “I know it must have meant long nights for you, but I’m so glad they recognized the value of you and your work. Seriously, __, you should be incredibly proud of this!"
You clink your glass with his, a light chuckle escaping you. There's something uniquely satisfying about sharing even the smallest things with him.
The conversation flows more comfortably from there, with Taehyung eagerly asking about the details of your new partnership. You reciprocate by asking about his current work projects, and soon, you both get lost in discussion, naturally causing your conversation to grow increasingly spontaneous. By the time your food arrives, the two of you must have easily covered fifty topics.
With the evening gradually becoming one of the most enjoyable you’ve had, the initial butterflies you felt at the start almost fade away... almost. That is, until you near the end of the meal and Taehyung looks at you with a seriousness in his eyes.
“I’m really glad we could do this tonight," he says, "We’ve both been so caught up with work lately that we haven’t had much time to spend together… I’ve missed it."
"Missed..." The simple six-letter word echoes in the back of your mind in a hushed murmur. It feels nice knowing you aren’t the only one affected by the recent distance.
“Me too,” you reply, more breathy than intended. Before you can fully process your words, you find yourself adding, “I’ve missed you a lot myself.”
A flush of embarrassment twists in your stomach the moment the words leave your mouth. You shouldn’t have said it like that—it almost sounded like… pining? God, you can’t even blame it on the alcohol at this point; you barely had one full glass of wine. Contrary to what you'd expect, Taehyung looks at you with a hint of shyness.
“You know,” he begins, briefly eyeing your dress, “you really do look great tonight. I’ve been a bit worried these past couple of weeks, seeing how much you work and how little sleep you get. But now… I'm relieved to see you looking so well.”
You blush. If only he saw you before tonight—greasy hair, bloodshot eyes, and oversized sweats on, you think. Evidently, tonight was an exception.
"I guess I've been worried about you too if I’m being honest,” you admit, shifting slightly in your seat. "The last time we saw each other was at your family reunion. It feels like it was ages ago for some odd reason."
“I know what you mean,” he says softly, gaze lingering on yours a moment longer than usual. “It’s strange going so long without seeing each other. It feels…unnatural.”
All at once, you pause, unsure if you heard right. Did Taehyung really say "unnatural"? It’s exactly how you’ve felt about the distance this entire time, but you hadn’t expected him to feel the same. Your mind struggles to process the sheer coincidence and its possible implications—was there something more to your relationship than you had realized?
While you try to make sense of it all, Taehyung’s raspy voice pulls you back to the present. “Well, uh, we should probably head out,” he suggests lightly, breaking the silence. You nod in agreement, though it does little to deter you from your thoughts.
You find yourself fidgeting with the hem of your dress the entire drive back, occasionally glancing at Taehyung in silence. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, eyes focused on the road, yet you could’ve sworn his mouth parted at one point as if he was about to say something. But then, he held back. You wonder what he might’ve wanted to say, but you’re no better—hesitant to breathe a word yourself.
Why are neither of you speaking all of a sudden? It feels tense and unfamiliar.
In what feels like a blink of an eye, you're standing at your front door again, Taehyung close beside you. The space between you feels smaller this time, with unspoken words still lingering, but it’s clear that despite having your keys in hand, neither of you are ready to part ways just yet.
“__?” He speaks first, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes?” You respond, turning to face him fully.
Taehyung takes a deep breath when you do, his usual warmth replaced by a heavy, unreadable expression. “There- there's something that’s been on my mind,” he begins, voice trembling slightly. “I've been going back and forth tonight on whether or not to tell you."
“Okay, what is it?” you ask, pulse quickening.
“It’s about us..." He hesitates, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly before continuing. "Earlier tonight, when I said I've missed being able to see you, I wasn’t lying. If anything, it was likely an understatement because, no matter how busy I was, I kept thinking about you—our time at my parents' place, and how you always came to visit me when I was in the hospital."
He pauses, his fist clenching nervously.
"I’ve realized since then that maybe the reason why is because somehow…you've always been more than a friend to me,” he confesses softly.
Searching your face for a reaction, Taehyung mistakes your blank expression for discomfort. Little does he know, however, that your stillness is merely due to shock, as every nerve in your body threatens to awaken. It feels surreal, you think. Sure, you had a small inkling that tonight felt different and Taehyung was sweeter than usual, but eighty percent of you chalked it up as nothing more than overthinking or projection.
Now, you realize how short-sighted you’ve been, convincing yourself that you could only ever be friends and denying the rest when it's been quite the opposite.
“I’m sorry," he adds sheepishly. "It must be a lot to take in. I don’t want to lose you or our friendship, but with my feelings growing, I think I’ll always want more. I thought it would be better for you to know.”
You see the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks, and though he patiently waits for your response, you’re unsure where to start. It’s not that you question Taehyung’s genuineness or intentions, or that you don’t reciprocate his feelings—you haven’t shared such a deep connection with someone in a long time, if ever.
Rather, it’s the years of a mostly apathetic marriage that leave you feeling wary.
What would a relationship with Taehyung be like?
Would you truly love each other?
For how long?
What startles you most is the possibility that if you and Taehyung really do this and it doesn’t work out, you’ll be left even more devastated than before.
When you finally speak, your voice wavers slightly. “To tell you the truth, a big part of me is relieved that you told me all of this,” you admit slowly, your hands clammy. “I thought I sensed a shift between us at your parents' and again this evening. But I also thought I was reading too much into things, convinced it was just us getting closer as friends do."
"I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was wrong because I've been wanting more with you too," you continue. "It's like the further away we are, the worse I seem to feel, and I can't help but wonder what it would look like if we were more than friends. The thought scares me as much as it excites me, though…for reasons I'm sure you already know."
You're uneasy about how he'll react until, all at once, his eyes fill with warmth and his hands gently reach for yours, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the backs.
“Do you remember when we were at the beach and you asked who’d risk it for you?” Taehyung asks. You nod, recalling the exact moment. “You also asked if I loved you, and I agreed to both that day. I didn’t realize how much those words would come full circle, but I meant it then, and I mean it now. I will love you, __, in the way you've always meant to be. I'm pretty sure I'm at least halfway in love with you already, and not just because we're friends."
Wordless, you stand facing each other, your hands still held in his, eyes steady in the brisk night air. His gaze then drifts from your eyes to your lips and back again. The movement is subtle, but in that brief moment, you let your eyes fall to his lips as well.
Taehyung’s waiting for your answer, but you can’t stop thinking of what would happen if you just…
Adrenaline takes over from there, and before you fully process it, you’re leaning in to close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his. The sudden touch catches Taehyung off guard, but he quickly responds with gentle, tender kisses. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he deepens the embrace, one hand finding its way to your face while the other rests on your back, pulling you closer.
Sooner than you realize, he begins deepening the kiss as well, eliciting small, breathy moans. At this point, you can feel the tent forming in his trousers, but he makes no move to grind into you yet. Rather, the hands that grip around you tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough that your body pushes further against his firmer chest. You suspect your back will meet the hard surface of your front door within the next three seconds, allowing your entire neighborhood a show, but before then, you're interrupted by a subtle stirring in the pit of your stomach.
"Wait, I'm sorry-" you suddenly break the kiss, a rush of nerves returning. It’s been a long time since you’ve shared such meaningful kisses with someone, and the intensity of it has you feeling overwhelmed. "I'm so sorry," you repeat.
When Taehyung sees you aren’t backing away but rather standing completely still, he settles his hands around your waist, gently drawing you further into a soft embrace. "You don't need to apologize," he assures. "I'm the one who took it further than I should've when I want this to be comfortable for both of us.”
You take a small breath, "You didn't do anything wrong, Tae, I'm just a little nervous due the newness of everything. I think I’d be best if we wait before going any further tonight….but I’m also not ready for you to leave yet. Is there any way you could maybe come in for a bit? To lounge?”
Taehyung nods, “I completely understand wanting to wait. The last thing I want to do is rush anything.” Concerned about possibly pressuring you, he adds, "Are you sure about me coming in though? It's getting late and I don't want to keep you up."
"Please," you murmur, "just for a little while, if you can.”
“Okay," he agrees, thumbs brushing lightly against your sides, "I can stay."
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a/n: ajdfhg, TYSM for reading!! Love you all 🥰
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kbwrites · 2 months
Text
Up In the Clouds Ch.4
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synopsis: you're friends arguing reaches a breaking point... for you. what will you do when you find out the real reason they've been fighting?
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⚝content: sugusato x f!reader, sfw, satosugu arguing, but they're arguing over youuuu
⚝wc: 1.4k
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Suguru and Satoru always fought. From the year you’d known the duo, that much was obvious. Petty arguments and stupid disagreements were rampant in your trio. But, at the end of the day—usually forced by you—they would make up. Today, however, there was a disquieting air around them, an unfamiliar tension that gnawed at your peace of mind.
You three were in the courtyard for lunch, a place usually filled with the sounds of your laughter. You and Suguru ate bentos while Satoru dug into a sugary donut.
But something was... different.
No annoying quips from Satoru.
No heavy sighs from Suguru.
Just complete and utter… silence.
The courtyard, bathed in the soft afternoon light, felt oddly still. The rustling of leaves and distant chatter of other students did nothing to alleviate the growing unease. You shifted in your seat, the silence pressing down on you like a weight.
“Did Yaga yell at you two or something?”
Suguru glanced up, his hazelnut-colored eyes narrowing as he finally spoke. “No… it’s not that.”
Satoru  scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically behind his dark sunglasses. “Yaga yelling would be wayy easier to deal with than Mr. Perfect.”
The raven-haired teen’s jaw clenched. “Oh, I’m Mr. Perfect now? That’s rich coming from someone who thinks they know everything,  Satoru.”
“At least I don’t try to control every little thing” Satoru shot back, his words muffled by the mouthful of donut. ”Not everything has to be done your way, Suguru.”
“Maybe if you used your head a bit more, we wouldn’t end up in half the messes we do,” Suguru retorted, his tone icy.
You sighed, feeling like a mediator between two stubborn children.
“Guys, seriously, what’s going on? This is ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous is Suguru thinking he can tell me what to do.” Satoru snapped, his voice tinged with frustration.
Finally, you’d had enough. The frustration and tension had reached a breaking point. Without saying a word, you stood up, grabbed your lunch, and turned to leave. The soft thud of your bento box as you placed it into your bag seemed to echo in the silence that followed.
Satoru’s blue eyes widened as he noticed you standing. “Wait, where are you going?”
Suguru’s head snapped towards you, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. “What—?”
But you were already walking away, your footsteps brisk and determined.
“Great, just great! Now ya made her leave because you’re too scared to tell her the truth!”
Suguru’s face flushed with anger. “Me? You’re the one who turned this into a contest and made it impossible for me to even tell her how I feel!”
Satoru shot a glare at his best friend, his voice laced with bitter irritation.
 “Well… I don’t care!”
A week. Seven long days without your best friends. They avoided each other entirely, which was pretty hard to do considering how small the school was.
The hallways almost fell deafening silent without the pair’s obnoxious laughter echoing through. According to Nanami it was “The best week of my life”.  But for you, it was a slow descent into madness. The absence of your two best guys, who were always there to bug you and share in the chaos, was unbearable.
Hell, even Yaga was starting to get worried.
Shoko wasn’t much help. Completely jaded by the routine of arguments and breakups between the second years, she shrugged off the situation with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “They’ll make up… eventually.”
You were never one to just sit back and let situations play out. So you whipped out your phone to set your plan in motion.
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(Y/N)                                          (Y/N) Hey, movie tn? My place.    Movie night 2nite? Sugu                                          Toru Sounds great. I’ll bring the movie.     Heading 2 the store!    You sigh in relief. They WERE going to make up today, whether they liked it or not. Your phone buzzes again. Sugu                                         Toru Hey… just us right?                    Me n you right (Y/N)?                        (Y/N)                          Yep! Just us!
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You prepared your dorm, fluffing out the pillows, grabbing your softest blankets. Hiding any sharp objects. The soft glow from the tv and your fairy lights set a cozy atmosphere. You only hoped that it would help soften the tension between them.
Knock Knock
Your ears perk up at the noise, you stood up, smoothing your clothes as if they could somehow help soothe the growing knot of anxiety in your stomach. As you opened the door you saw Suguru, leaned casually against the doorframe, his raven hair falling in soft waves around his face. His kind eyes tinged with nervousness.
“Hey Suguru!” Your voice warm as you greet him, stepping aside to let the taller boy in. He settled into his favorite spot, grabbing the blanket he’d left here one too many times. You settled next to him as he pulled out four DVDs showing you the selection.
“I haven’t seen any of these yet actually.” He says looking at you.
As you both discussed the movies, you heard another knock at the door. You quickly stood up, hoping Suguru wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. 
“Hmm? Shoko Coming?”
“Not… exactly.” You laugh nervously as your hand slowly reaches for the doorknob. As the door inches open you see Satoru, his white hair slightly damp from his (never-ever missed 8pm Shower). He greets you with a smile, striding into dorm. Immediate irritation flashed across his face when he made eye contact with Suguru.
Their eyes narrow at each other, then at you.
“What’s HE doing here?”
You place your hands on your hips; side-eyeing Satoru to sit down. He begrudgingly takes a seat next to the raven-haired teen, pouting.
“We are watching a movie. And you’re both staying.” Your normally soft voice, firm as you glare at the two older teens.
They both shoot each other glares before sighing. You had won… for now. You took your place, right in between them.
You tried your hardest to just watch the movie, but it was so boring. Usually Suguru picked out pretty decent movies, but this documentary was NOT a decent movie. You stole glances at your friends; if you weren’t so pissed off at them you would’ve been blushing at the prospect of being sat between two attractive guys. 
Their close proximity made your heart race. You could feel the heat radiating from their bodies, and every small movement seemed amplified in the quiet room. Your hand reached into the popcorn bucket. As the pair saw your hand go in they both reached in with you, hoping to touch you.
Both flinching as their hands brushed each other’s instead of yours. They shot each other a glare before turning their attention back to the TV. A minute passes before Satoru speaks.
“I could’ve picked a better movie with my eyes closed.” The white-haired teen mumbles, shoving popcorn into his mouth.
“Just watch the movie, Satoru.”  Suguru replied with an exasperated groan, though his eyes never left the screen.
“This shit is gonna bore me to death.”
“That isn’t such a bad idea—”
You sigh heavily, grabbing the remote to pause the movie. You stand up, looking down at the two sorcerers.
“Alright. What the hell’s going on with you two?” You demanded
They both looked away, avoiding eye contact. Satoru crossed his arms, pouting even more, while Suguru ran his hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.
You tap your foot, glaring down expectantly.
Suguru glanced at Satoru, their eyes meeting in a brief, intense exchange. Satoru’s nod was almost imperceptible, but Suguru seemed to take it as a cue. He drew a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper.
“(Y/N)...”
“We’ve been acting like this because, well..”
“We’re both...” Satoru continued.
“In love with you.” Suguru finished, his voice barely above a whisper.
You blinked, stunned by the confession. The room felt suffocating, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You stared at them, trying to process their words. Your breath hitched, struggling to keep up with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. It felt like a storm was raging within the confines of the small room, each thunderous heartbeat echoing off the walls.
“You’re… what?” you finally managed to say, your voice trembling.
Satoru stood up, his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless.  “We’re in love with you, (Y/N). Both of us.”
Suguru’s nod was slow, almost hesitant. 
 “And it’s tearing us apart.”
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taglist: @4evahevah @angelofdarkness2 @iangeeluv
@isishsoskdjsk @yunho-leeknow @starriesworlds @hiblue123158 @n3ptoonie
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mapiforpresident · 7 months
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Most Likely To
Alexia x reader
warnings: none
~~~
It was currently almost Valentine's day, so Barcelona was having all the team couples do some short interviews to post on the actual day.
Alexia was not a fan of this, but she saw that you were excited, she reluctantly agreed. She wanted to maintain her professional captain persona, but she also knew that it was important for people to see that she was also a normal person at the end of the day and that it was ok for her to be dating a woman.
~~~
"Hey, how was your interview," you asked Mapi and Ingrid as they walked out of the media room. They had their interview right before yours.
"It was really good we had to see who knew each other better and Ingrid won. I forgot her first pets name." Mapi told you. "I think you guys are doing the who is mostly likely to challange. I am excited to see if we learn anything new about big tough Ale over here that we didn't know." You laughed at this agreeing that you would make sure the fans learn how much of a softie Ale is for you.
~~~
You and Alexia then walked into the room as the media people explained how it would work and set up your mics. The interviewer then got started facing the camera, "Ok today we have special guests Alexia and Y/n. Today they will be playing the who is most likely to challange. They each have a paddle with their face on one side and the others face on the back. I will ask some questions and they have to show the face of who they think it fits better. At the end we also have a couple questions sent in by fans. Let's get started with the first question.."
"Ok we will start off very easy. The first question is who is most likely to forget their boots at home?"
You both immediately held up the side of the paddle with your face.
"I may have forgotten them before the champions league final. Luckily someone had an extra pair in my size. Ale always asks me three times if I have my boots now before we leave the house." You responded laughing towards the camera.
"She is very forgetful, she even forgot her passport before a game onetime and had to fly in the next day. I definitely made her run extra laps for that." You definitely gave Alexia a few heart attacks from all the times you forget things.
"Who is most likely to cry during a sad movie?" the interviewer queried with a grin.
You both exchanged a glance. You raised Alexia face as she reluctantly did the same. It was no secret to you or the team that Alexia had a soft spot for emotional films, often shedding a tear or two during particularly touching scenes.
As the interview progressed, the questions delved deeper into your relationship, sparking laughter and fond memories between you and Alexia.
The interviewer grinned as she posed the next question, her eyes flickering mischievously between you and Alexia. "Alright, who is most likely to hog the blankets in bed?"
You both hesitated for a moment, exchanging playful glances before simultaneously flipping the paddles to reveal the others face.
You chuckled, nudging Alexia playfully. "Come on, admit it. You're the blanket thief."
Alexia raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, please. You practically cocoon yourself in the blankets every night."
As the interview drew to a close, the final question sent in by fans brought a sense of warmth to the room. "Who is most likely to surprise the other with a romantic gesture?"
Without hesitation, you both raised your paddles, a shared smile of affection passing between you. Despite the playful teasing and occasional disagreements, there was no doubt that your love for each other ran deep, evident in the small gestures of kindness and thoughtfulness that defined your relationship.
As the cameras stopped rolling, Alexia pulled you into a tender embrace, her voice soft with sincerity. "You know, despite my initial reservations, I'm glad we did this. It's nice to show the world a different side of us, to be able to share our love openly."
You returned her embrace, kissing her cheek lightly, feeling a surge of gratitude for the woman standing before you. "I couldn't agree more, bebé."
The fans absolutely loved the video and seeing this more personal side of Alexia and seeing more into your relationship.
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belovedmusings · 11 months
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“You have to trust me.”
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18+ Explicit Smut 🚫Minors DNI🚫
You and Satoru get into an argument before he heads off to face Sukuna. You worry for his safety since the incident of his sealing is still fresh in your mind, begging him to let the others help, but he insists he has to do it alone. Hot, emotional sex follows.
Relevant tags: AFAB reader w/minimal gendered language, reader with no defined characteristics for inclusivity and realism, angst, hurt/no comfort, before Ch 236, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, missionary/mating press, intentional baby making
Recommended songs to listen to while reading: Privilege (The Weeknd), lovely (Billie Eilish), Lo Vas Olvidar (Billie Eilish, ROSALIA)
A/N: I have a follow-up to this where he survives the fight so that you can have some comfort after this hurt. I’ll link it at the end :’) for now enjoy some angst.
Expand to read:
“Satoru, please,” your voice tapers off at the end, the ache in your heart stinging with its intensity. “Please, don’t do it alone. You can have help. Yuuta—”
“This isn’t his fight,” Satoru insists, “I don’t want to involve innocent kids in this if I can help it.”
“So you’re just gonna go off and get yourself killed instead?”
His brows furrow, eyes frozen on your face. His lips part in disbelief, and after a moment of being stunned, he laughs incredulously.
“Seriously?” He asks you, “Do you really think that lowly of me? You think I’m marching off to my death right now?! You think I’m some weak little twerp or something? That’s all I am to you?!”
As he raises his voice, you start to feel guilt rising up in your chest. You hadn’t meant to say it like that. Here he is, about to fight for the sake of the world and you’re belittling him and undermining his strength. You’re telling him you expect him to lose, even if that wasn’t your intention. You’re supposed to be his support pillar—he doesn’t just let anyone in.
The anger fizzles out of you like ice water on hot coals. Instantly, you feel cold.
“No, Satoru,” you shake your head, remorse bubbling up so violently tears spring to your eyes. This is the love of your life, the man who has been nothing but sweet, patient, and kind to you. Sure, back when things were normal, he used to tease and get on your nerves, he had to work a lot and his time was stretched thin as a result, but he always made time for you. He always thought of you, brought you your favorite treats from his missions, latched onto you when he came back because he missed you.
Apparently you started sobbing at some point while you thought about all of that, because the next thing you know, he’s wrapping his newly thickened arms around you and pulling you into his sturdy chest.
“I didn’t mean to yell at you,” his voice is subdued now, full of guilt. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice. It’s just that—”
“That’s not…” you sniffle, shaking your head as you try to find the strength to get a full sentence out in the midst of your break down. “I believe in you, Satoru, I do, I didn’t mean—didn’t mean to say that…”
He hugs you tighter, rubbing up and down your arm. You continue.
“I’m just so fucking scared, Satoru, I’m scared.”
More sobs wrack your body and he can only sigh heavily, trying to hold you as close to himself as he can.
“I don’t want to do this to you,” his voice is thin, like he’s trying hard to keep it even. “I hate that I can’t give you a normal, easy life with me.”
You huff, wrapping your arms around him. “That’s not…I wouldn’t trade what we have for the world, Satoru, for the world…”
“I just hate that this is causing you so much pain,” he replies. “I’m supposed to be taking it away, not making it worse. God, I really am the worst, aren’t I?”
You shake your head in disagreement, planting a kiss on his neck to protest his statement. His breath hitches, and the next moment, he’s raising your chin up with his index finger, ducking to connect your lips. You make a small noise in the back of your throat and kiss back, arms winding around his neck to draw him closer. You feel him hug your waist, and go willingly when he backs you up.
The backs of your legs meet the edge of his bed, the one that you’ve become so familiar with it’s more comfortable than your own at the place you rarely sleep anymore, and you realize that this might be the last chance you ever get to share it with him.
Another sob escapes you before you can stop it and you grab the collar of his shirt tightly, pulling him down with you. You fall onto the mattress, Satoru catching himself so he doesn’t crush you as he kisses you passionately.
You trail your palms down his chest, down his abdomen, over the tight black shirt he has on, then back up again just to feel him. Satoru is here right now, in your hands, on top of you—you need to cherish this while it lasts.
You break the kiss as your crying worsens, unable to stop lamenting the fact that you can’t freeze time in its place right now.
“Shh,” his sugary voice hushes you, “Shh, focus on me. I want this to feel good for you, okay? We can’t have you crying your way through it, silly, then you won’t remember a thing.”
You sniffle, trying to wipe at your eyes. “I don’t want to just r-remember you…I need you to be okay.”
“I am okay,” he says, pecking your brow bone sweetly. “I’m right here. Just feel me. Nothin’ else. Don’t even think right now, thinking’s not useful.”
You huff shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his mouth go for your neck. He scrapes his teeth over your jugular to shock pleasure into your senses, successfully distracting some of the anguish right out of you.
“That’s it,” like this, his voice sounds almost like a purr, and you shiver, arms wrapping around his shoulders to grip at his back. He leaves a wet kiss where his teeth were and swipes his tongue over the spot, starting to suckle. You give him a soft noise in response, relishing in the fact that you know he’s leaving a mark on purpose. It’ll be there at least for a few days, or more if he really tries.
“Make it dark,” you breathe, “Give me as many as you can, please.”
“You don’t have to beg me,” he murmurs below your ear, sending heat pulsing downward. “I’ll give anything you want from me.”
You suck in a sharp breath. “Anything?”
At your eager question, he chuckles lowly, lifting himself up to meet your eyes. “Hmm. You have something specific in mind, don’t you?”
Your face heats up involuntarily, but the urgency of the situation has you forcing your bashfulness down. This might be the only time to ask. You had wanted to wait until the two of you were settled, maybe married if that’s what you agreed on, but now there might not be another moment. This could be it. And you know that if you don’t tell him what you want now and something happens, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.
With that thought, you take a deep breath and raise your hand to cup his face, brushing a few strands of his fringe away from his eyes.
“I want your baby, Satoru.”
You see the moment the words register in his brain. His eyes light up with something you’ve never seen before, and he smiles as if you just gave him the sweetest, most sincere compliment he’s ever heard.
“Yeah? A piece of me forever, huh?”
You nod, a grin tugging at your lips even as droplets continue to spill down your cheeks. “Yeah. Our love personified.”
He chuckles wetly and you think you see his eyes turn glossy, but he’s kissing you again before you can confirm it.
“It’s yours,” he says against your mouth. “All yours.”
You lose yourself in the long kiss that follows. All you can feel is him moving on top of you, tongue dancing with yours so intimately it would have the angels in the room blushing.
You raise your hips when he tugs at your pants, taking your underwear with them. He sits back on his haunches to slide them off your legs, eyes gentle as he gets between them and pushes his hands up underneath your shirt.
Sitting up quickly, you allow him to lift it off of you, discarding it behind himself. Now, you’re completely naked, but he’s still clothed.
“No fair,” you say, eyeing his shirt like it’s offensive, and he laughs.
“Say no more, say no more,” he replies, “Just lay down for me.”
Your stomach flutters with butterflies as you do as he tells you, looking up at him kneeling between your legs. You watch as he crosses his arms to peel his tight shirt off of his sculpted muscles, smooth, fair skin coming into view. He’d put a Greek god to shame, you think. He’s so tear-jerkingly beautiful it threatens madness in your mind.
“Like what you see?” He taunts mischievously, standing up to untie his pants and push those along with his boxers down his hips. His reddened erection springs free and you stare unabashedly at it, never having got used to the sight fully. He’s huge, both long and thick, all smooth skin except for a prominent vein on the underside. You used to joke with him early on in your relationship that it was the main reason for his cocky attitude, that you’d probably act the same way if you had a dick like that, and it always made him laugh. You love making him laugh. God, you love Satoru so much.
“Oh, you definitely like what you see now,” he snorts, climbing back onto the bed. “Gotta admit, it’s hot as hell to see you objectify me like that.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I’m nothing but a glorified sperm donor, mistress.”
You make an incredulous face. “What? I’m not—you don’t even—”
“Shh, I’m just teasin’,” he grins at you, leaning down to peck your lips. “I know you love me.”
You blow out a puff of air like a deflating balloon. “Satoru, I swear to god.”
He chuckles, shutting himself up by kissing you again. “That’s just how I show love.”
You chase his lips, hearing his words for the ‘I love you’ they truly are, threading your hands in his hair.
His big palms find your hips and he centers them for himself, lining up and grinding his stiff member against your wet core.
“Mmh,” you moan, moving with him, “Satoru…”
He sighs shakily, grabbing the crook of your knee to push it up, giving himself more room to move. His grinds become more forceful and it has you stuttering little gasps, nails digging into his back.
“Already scratchin’ me up?” He asks, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “But I haven’t even put it in yet.”
The laugh you reply with is half-assed, need distracting you, and you find his eyes. “What’s stopping you?”
“Oh? Someone’s impatient,” he chuckles, stamping a kiss to your nose. “All right, all right. Better give you what you want.”
He takes ahold of himself and lines up, breathing a heavy sigh as he sinks into you. As soon as he does, you make a noise in the back of your throat, hugging him closer to you. As he bottoms out, you can’t help but press more chaste kisses wherever you can on him—his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. You just love him. You love the feeling of his body on top of yours, the warm weight unique to him, how he fills your arms up, tangible and strong. You breathe in deeply, the sweet musk of his skin filling your senses. It’s your favorite scent in the entire world.
He pulls back and rocks forward again slowly, taking care to get you used to his size. So much has happened lately that you haven’t been able to get intimate a lot, so you have to let him ease you back into it.
As he works you open on his cock slowly, you take to caressing the smooth skin of his back, eyes closed to revel in the sound of his heavy breaths, strained with the effort to control his movements so as not to hurt you. You love how solid he is under your palms. You could touch him forever. If he survives this fight, you swear that you’ll never let go of him again. You plead mentally with any deity that may hear you to protect Satoru.
You kiss the soft underside of his chin and hold him closer, holding onto that thought. Protect him. Keep him safe. Keep him alive. I love this man so much, just please don’t take him away from me.
He chooses that moment to start picking up the pace, the dull ache it gives you enough to thankfully keep you from spiraling further. You sigh, bending your knees further to give him more room. Your legs then wrap around him, ankles crossing at the base of his spine, and he responds by going faster. The room begins to fill with the sound of your bodies meeting over and over, his length molding you to his shape with every push of his hips into yours.
On a particularly hard thrust, you gasp, tightening around him, and it causes him to groan right after you. His voice is so sweet. It was one of the things that stood out to you about him when you had first met him—the way he always seemed to have perfect control over it. He speaks with ebbs and flows to contour the meanings of his words, to give them his special nuance that perfectly colors in his personality. He’s just so animated when he speaks. If he’s annoyed, you’ll hear it. If he’s playful, you’ll hear it. If he’s happy, you’ll hear it.
Right now, as he works through stuttered breaths and hitched moans, delivered exhales of your name weaved into declarations of his bliss, you hear the pleasure you’re giving him. That control starts to slip and words start tumbling from his lips, voice thin and shaky, a tone reserved just for you.
You turn your head to lay a kiss on his lips, landing on the corner of his mouth, but he understands what you need, sweeping you into a languid, passionate make out session as he rocks in and out of you. You hear him make a sort of wet noise before he doubles down on his efforts, pushing deep inside of you and starting to roll his body.
“Satoru,” you hiss in surprise, mouth falling open as his abdomen grinds against the sensitive bud above the place he’s buried inside of, heightening the goosebumps that break out on your skin. Your head falls back and he takes the opportunity to start making as many marks on your skin as he can with his mouth. Like this, you feel yourself getting close, and that has you remembering what comes after this.
He’s going to leave, and he might not come back.
This might be the last time you ever get to have him.
“I love you,” you say, just needing to get the words out, needing him to know. “You’re so important to me—thank you for everything, Satoru.”
His breath catches in his throat and he finds your gaze, reaching up to cup your jaw in his palm.
“Thank you for everything,” He replies sincerely. “Thank you for loving me. For dealing with all my bullshit and sticking by me.”
“Always,” you shake your head, eyes filling with new tears. You sniffle, feeling that choked desperation start seizing your chest again. “Always, Satoru.”
He smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Those beautiful luminescent oceans only reflect the deep sadness the both of you feel, and to see it glaringly obvious in his gaze breaks your heart. He can’t fake his happiness this time, not even for you. He’s human too, and being here with you like this in what might be the last time threatens to undo him.
Satoru swallows thickly and concentrates on his movements to distract himself, forcing himself to focus on the noises you make as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. He wants this to last forever just like you do, but you both know he’s needed by more people than just you.
Your climax approaches and with it, your emotions swell up inside of you. You remember meeting him for the first time, you remember when he started pursuing you, how happy he was when you agreed to a date, how hard he’d tried to win you over yet how effortless he made it look. Every time you two shared a laugh, every time he was there while you cried, how he always managed to put a smile back on your face. How sweet of a man he is to his students, how proud you can tell he is whenever he talks about them, and how his eyes light up whenever he eats a treat he’s fond of. God, you just love him.
“Satoru,” you whimper, orgasm hitting you abruptly. “Oh god, I love you so much.”
He exhales forcefully as he feels it, managing a few sloppy thrusts before he’s cumming as well pushing as deep as he can go in effort to fulfill your earlier request.
As you start to come down, the fear and despair come back tenfold, overtaking you in a fit of sobs. He wraps his arms around you and buries his nose in your hair.
“I’ll win,” He whispers to you, “I will. I’ll come back and we’ll raise the little shit we just made together, okay? They’ll probably grow up like me but I hope they’re more like you, baby.”
You hiccup loudly as you cry harder, clinging to the image of a happy family with him for dear life.
“It’s gonna be okay. You have to trust me,” He insists, inhaling slowly. “I have to go now.”
You hold him tighter, squeezing your eyes shut to commit this to memory before he’s pulling away, lifting himself off of you and grabbing his clothes quickly.
He dresses in silence, your cries the only thing echoing around the room. All you can manage to do is put on one of his button-ups from the foot of his bed, wiping furiously at your eyes.
Too soon, he’s clothed again, and it’s time for him to go.
He walks over to you again and takes your chin gently in his hand, tilting it up so that your eyes connect. He smiles softly at you.
“You know that I love you, right?”
A deep ache seats into your chest. He’s said it in a million ways before but never in its original form, those simple, crater-heavy three words. You nod, sniffling as another wave of lament threatens to pull you under.
“I do,” you confirm, forcing it out in a strained voice. He nods to himself, leaning in and pressing his soft lips to your forehead.
You feel the moment that he uses his technique to flash himself out of the room, because his warm presence that naturally takes up a lot of space vanishes and leaves absolutely everything feeling cold and sterile.
You break down again, head falling into your hands.
Shoko had told you where everyone would be watching the fight take place. You want to be there, and you will go, but you need to be alone first.
You just hope with all of your might that you won’t be left alone with only a piece of him to succeed his legacy. You want him to be there too. You need him to be there.
You need him to be okay.
—-
A/N: i gave myself an ouchie on the heart while writing this. whoops. also wow is he gorgeous in that picture at the top?? anyways here’s the second part where he survives bc i should be gege instead so he’ll be okay :-)
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writeonwhiskey · 10 months
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the skz house: ch 3 (18+)
a/n: thank you to all who liked, commented and reblogged. glad to have you on this ride with me.
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Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Bang Chan.
[ read chapter two here ]
Chapter Three: Of Blowjobs and Birthdays
The house becomes hectic when everyone is back home. With twelve people living here, it’s a house full of extremely different personalities and, honestly, a little overwhelming. You start to wonder how stable things will remain throughout the year. Do the guys ever fight amongst themselves? Do the girls? You’re not very confrontational, so you’ll have to hold on to hope that any disagreements can be resolved quickly. 
After dinner you have a chance to interact with Jeongin in the basement. The two of you are standing next to the bar as Lee Know and Changbin challenge each other in a game of pool. Jeongin is all smiles and dimples as he talks to you about his minor in fashion design and his plan to launch a chic streetwear clothing line after graduating. You can’t think of any other way to describe him besides adorable and pure (Han will later assure you that thought wears off over time).
“If you ever need tips, I’m the one to talk to,” he tells you. 
“I may have to take you up on that because this,” you gesture to the plain jeans and shirt you’re wearing, “is where I tend to stay.”
He steps closer to you, his hands reaching for the bottom of your shirt. 
“May I?” He asks. 
You shrug and nod.
He gathers the fabric from the back and folds it upwards, then uses the excess material in front to twist into a spiral. He wraps the end around the ball that has formed and pushes the end piece through the center. He turns you around to face the mirror against the opposite wall and you nod your approval.
“It accentuates here,” he (very professionally) gestures towards your breast while standing behind you, then moves his hands lower to your waist, “and here without you having to do much.”
“Do mine next, Innie,” you hear Changbin say from the pool table.
“It works best with bigger shirts, hyung, yours are too tight,” Jeongin retorts. 
Lee Know laughs as he calls 8 ball corner pocket and sinks it in. 
The smile on Changbin’s face drops as he tosses the pool cue on the table. He heads up the stairs without saying anything to anyone, causing the three of you to burst out into laughter. 
You all end up following after him to the main floor to see what the others are up to. 
Mostly everyone has dispersed to doing their own thing and you decide to turn in for the night. If you stay down here any longer, you may be tempted to accidentally fall asleep on the couch, if it means avoiding going up to Chan’s room. You imagine that might not play out so well as you head to the second floor to shower.  
You make a stop in Hyunjin’s room on your way to grab a few things you’ll need the next couple days while staying with Chan.
Hyunjin is seated at his desk, fiddling with a camera. 
“Hey,” you say as you enter. 
“Come to say goodbye to me?” He spins in his chair to face you and pouts. 
“Please don’t make this more awkward than it already feels,” you say with a serious look on your face. 
Seeing your expression, he drops the pout. 
“You okay?” 
“It just feels conflicting, spending last night with you, now going to Chan…” you trail off as you sit down on his bed. 
“It will for the first few weeks, I’m sure,” he tells you. “I wish I could tell you how to sort through it but I really don’t know what it’s like from your perspective.”
“What’s it like from yours?” You ask. 
“These guys are my brothers…we’ve been through so much and already share everything, so this isn’t a huge stretch for us believe it or not,” he shrugs. “Everything is transparent so there’s no room for jealousy, we follow the rules of the house and it all just works out.”
“But Chan seems…”
“He’s been that way the last week for some reason. I don’t know what it is but he’ll either get over it or open up to us about it eventually. He just likes to brood. He’s moody like that.”
You nod your head, taking some consolation that maybe it isn’t you that’s the problem after all, and get up from the bed to retrieve your belongings. Hyunjin stands to hug you on your way out and tells you goodnight, placing a kiss on your forehead. You revel in his embrace while you have it.
“You should show your figure more,” he says when you step back, looking at the shirt Jeongin has revamped for you. “It looks good.”
“Thank you,” you reply with a shy smile, covering your midriff with your arm as you slowly back out of the room. You wave one final time before turning around, wanting to retain the happiness you’re feeling right now as you’re so uncertain what awaits on the next floor up. 
Seungmin, Changbin and Han, who also stay on the third floor, warned you about how warm it gets up there. So after your shower, you decide on a pair of silk pajama shorts and top for the night. When you enter Chan’s room, it feels even warmer since he’s just had a shower, too.
He has one towel tied around his hips and is using another to dry his hair when he stops to look at you. His eyes travel from you head to toes, then back up again. He sits down on his bed and watches you as you put your things away. 
“How was your first day in the house?” He asks, breaking the silence.
“Pretty good, actually.” You say turning to face him, trying to keep your gaze on his face and not his exposed chest. Even in his relaxed sitting position you can see the outlines of his abs. 
“You think you’ll be able to stick it out?”
You furrow your brow at his question. 
“Am I allowed to leave if I feel like I can’t?” You ask. 
“You didn’t read the contract?”
Your gaze falls to the floor. Fucking contracts will probably be the death of you.
“It was, like, 37 pages, Chan. I have enough to read with my class assignments,” you tell him. 
“Yes, you can leave,” he answers. “With a proper two week notice so we have time to find a replacement.”
“That disposable, huh?” You move the blankets back on your bed and sit down on it. 
“We don’t force anyone to be here,” he shrugs, leaning back on his hands. 
“Do you want me to leave?” You ask suddenly. 
“You’re already here,” he replies. “Might as well stay.”
Part of you wants to take what he says as him encouraging you to stick around, but the way he says it makes it feel like an afterthought. You also made the mistake of thinking he was being kind to you earlier today. 
“Results are in, by the way,” he announces with his phone in hand.
It takes you a moment to realize what he means—the test you took a few days ago. Your heartbeat quickens as you check your phone and find the email. It’s not the results that are making you nervous. It’s the feel of his eyes on you and what comes next. You stand from your bed and walk towards him, hand outstretched for him to see your results. He nods his approval and shows you his.
“Did you want to…” you trail off, unable to bring yourself to say the words. 
He slowly licks his lips as he looks up at you. You’re not sure if the uneasiness you’re feeling is nerves or some kind of tormented butterflies. It feels drastically different than when you were with Hyunjin, that much you’re sure of.
He takes your phone from you and tosses it behind him on the bed before holding his hand out. You tentatively place yours in his and he pulls you so you’re standing between his legs. His hands drop to the back of your knees and his fingertips begin to lightly caress their way up the back of your thighs.  
“You don’t?” He counters. 
“I—I—“ you stutter. 
His hands creep higher and higher until they’re just barely beneath the hem of the shorts. He stops his movements, grips you and pulls you even closer to him. You place your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself from falling on him.
“It has to be consensual, y/n,” he tells you. “But I do want you first.”
Your eyes lock with his and for the first time you feel like he’s being transparent. Would it ease some of the tension you feel with him if you consent tonight? Hyunjin did mention some of the members view this as a sexual thing and others emotional. Maybe Chan just prefers the physical. 
“I’ve only ever been with one other person,” you say, looking down at the floor. 
“Then you’ll learn a lot here,” he says as his hands resume caressing you. 
Your hands move up towards his neck, fingers lightly stroking at the nape. Eyes still locked on his, you nod your consent. 
“Lesson one, then,” he says, spreading his legs a little further apart. “Get on your knees.”
Your eyebrows come together once again at his words. He doesn’t budge—doesn’t smile, no inference that he’s joking in the slightest. 
You slowly kneel on the floor in front of him. 
“Open my towel,” is his next command. 
You bring your hands to his lap to pull the two ends of the towel apart and cast them aside. He’s completely exposed but shows no sign of being embarrassed or insecure. Your eyes fall down to his cock—he has no reason to, you can see that. 
He hooks a finger under your chin and lifts your head up. His thumb lightly moves across your lips from left to right then slowly drags down the middle, pulling your bottom lip with it. 
He redirects his attention to your pajama top, undoing the buttons with ease one by one. When he moves the silky fabric to the side, you let out a shaky breath as his eyes linger on your exposed breasts. He cups both of them in each hand, gliding his thumbs across your nipples until they harden.
It feels good, you can’t deny that. You have no control over your body’s response to his actions, but there’s some discrepancy between your body and the thoughts racing through your mind. He’s handsome, but are you attracted to him? Given the way he’s been treating you…what does it say about you if you are?
His hands fall from your chest, and you instantly feel cold without his touch. He reaches down for your hand and grabs it, placing it on his cock. You wrap your hand around it, feeling how warm and hard it is. He leans back on the bed, looking down at you. 
“Spit on it,” he tells you. 
You feel your pulse pick up at his words as you move your jaw and tongue to gather up moisture in your mouth. You adjust yourself over him to do as you’re told. He guides your hand once again, helping you move the saliva around and lather until his dick is slippery. 
“It’s not that fragile, you can squeeze a little harder, y/n.” His tone is soft as he looks at you with darkened eyes. 
You tighten your grip and begin moving your hand up and down slowly. He lays back flat on the bed as you continue to stroke him. You feel a little less pressure without him staring at you and focus on what’s in front of you. The hair surrounding the base is dark and curly, yet neatly groomed. His dick is almost the same color as the rest of his body, with a redder tint. You can see, up close, all the veins at work as he becomes harder in the palm of your hand. The tip is cut, pink, and dripping. You rub your thumb around it in circles, smearing the clear fluid around. 
He lets out a soft groan and sits back up on the bed.
He cups your face in his hand and strokes your cheeks. 
“Open your mouth,” he says. 
You slowly drop your jaw. His hands move to the back of your head and guide you forward. You close your eyes and try to remain calm and relaxed as you feel the tip of his dick at your lips.
He moves one of his hands to the base, and slides the tip of his dick around your lips before sliding it inside. With his other hand still behind your head, he pushes you further down. You put your hands on his thighs and start to resist when you feel you can’t take anymore in your mouth. 
He releases the pressure on the back of your head and you breathe out of your nose, adjusting to having so much of him in your mouth. It’s not your first blow job, but he’s a lot bigger than your ex and, you know, you hadn’t even kissed this man yet.
You start to stroke the base as your mouth focuses on the upper half. You move in unison, moving your hand up as your head draws back, then down as you take more of him in again. Your ex did not enjoy ‘sloppy’ blow jobs and all the saliva, but Chan seems to like it. You use the moisture that works up in your mouth to make it easier to glide along him. He groans as you start moving faster, and continues guiding your head with more force each time you descend. 
He grips his hand in your hair and you take that as a sign of encouragement to keep going. When you move your mouth to focus on just the tip as you continue stroking him with your hand, he releases your hair and falls back on the bed again. You suck only the tip, popping it out of your mouth like a lollipop and taking it inside again. 
“Fuck, y/n,” he croaks. 
Another sign of encouragement. You’ll have to take whatever words of acceptance you can get with him. 
You take your mouth off completely and use your tongue to lick upwards from the bottom to the top, gliding across the protruding vein there. When you go back to the base, his hand is on your head again, pushing you lower. Your eyes open wide as you see what he wants you to do. You straighten up to spit on his dick again and add moisture before returning back to his balls. You take one in your mouth, lightly sucking on it, then the other. 
“I knew it,” he breathes, seemingly talking to himself.
Knew what? You wonder. But you don’t stop. 
“Put your mouth back on my cock,” he says. 
You place your mouth back on him, moving up and down in synchronicity with your hand. Both of his hands go to your head, forcefully pushing you down as he bucks his hips up, groaning. 
He doesn’t warn you, so the first shot in your mouth startles you. You feel the warmth and taste the saltiness as he continues to thrust into your mouth. When his hips fall to the bed for the final time, you sit back on your legs. You’re not sure what to do next. You want to get up and run to the bathroom.
He sits back up, breathing heavily. The way he looks at you gives you some pause. He looks satisfied, relieved. He leans forward and kisses you briefly on the lips, apparently oblivious of the load you’re holding inside or something. When he leans back, your face is contorted as you gesture to your mouth. 
He shakes his head, careless of the expression you’re making. He places a finger under your jaw to keep it shut. 
“Swallow.”
You shake your head, but he doesn’t move his finger, he pushes up on your jaw harder, staring at you intently. You concede and move your heard forward slightly to make it easier to go down in one gulp. 
“Open.”
You open your mouth and show him nothing is there. 
“Good girl.” He pats your cheek before moving back on the bed towards his pillows, leaving you on your knees at the foot of the bed. “Get some sleep.”
You feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut. So much for this situation being reciprocal. 
You shakily get to your feet, pick up your phone and retreat to your bed with the buttons of your shirt still undone. There’s no other way to describe how you're feeling—used. You slip underneath the blanket and immediately turn over to face the wall. You hear Chan get up a few minutes later and go to his bathroom. 
You let out a sigh when you believe he’s out of earshot. You signed up for this, but this…was not what you had expected. You imagine how this would have played out with Hyunjin. The two of you would have probably laughed together after your raunchy behavior and he would have held you as you fell asleep. You wish you were with him right now. You squeeze your eyes shut and will yourself to fall asleep.
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You wake up the next morning once again to the sound of your alarm going off and frantically silence it. You peek over your shoulder to see Chan still sleeping in his bed. Yesterday when you were bright eyed and optimistic, you set this alarm to get up and cook for him. Even though he said he wasn’t big on eating breakfast—today is his birthday. You wanted to do something nice for him. Of course that was all prior to him blowing his load in your mouth and then sending you off to bed immediately after. You contemplate just staying in bed and not mentioning his birthday to him at all.
The way he’s treating you doesn’t just sting, it fucking hurts. If everyone in the house had the same demeanor, perhaps you could understand it better—that they all are cold. But, no, everyone else has been nothing but nice to you. 
You have to reason with yourself that you can’t take his behavior personal. You’re here to perform certain duties and you can’t force or expect him to be affectionate with you. You shouldn’t take it as an offense. Easier said than done, though. 
You push the covers off and button up your shirt—you’d fallen asleep without ever fixing it—and make your way quietly down stairs. You stop on the second floor to brush your teeth, it’s desperately needed after last night. You feel yourself start to becoming angry at the thought. Did he enjoy knowing you’d spent the night with the taste of him lingering in your mouth? Why hadn’t you spoken up and said something…anything? Perhaps it falls back on being non-confrontational, but you’re also afraid of making him angry. You push the thoughts aside once again and wash your hands and face before heading to the kitchen.
The boys told you Chan really liked spam omelets so you’ll be making that for everyone, with rice. The distraction of prepping and cooking is a nice reprieve for your mind. You can’t focus on anything other than the task at hand. Some of the others file in soon after to keep you company. Or maybe they’re just waiting to eat. 
You’re finished within an hour. You make Chan a plate—rice on one side with furikake sprinkled on top, and the spam omelet on the other. You find a serving tray in the cabinet and place the plate and a glass of watermelon punch (another one of his favorites, you had been told) on it. The other’s start making their own plates and you head back upstairs to deliver Chan his breakfast in bed. The irony in this is not lost on you. Treating him like a goddamn king after he’d made you feel like a fucking harlot. 
When you get back to the room, he’s still sleeping. 
You sit the tray down at the foot of the bed. You had kinda hoped he’d be awake by now, as you’re not sure how he reacts to being woken up. You sit behind him on the bed and lightly shake him. He wakes easily and turns to look at you over his shoulder, eyes half open. 
“Happy Birthday, Chan,” you say to him softly, forcing a smile. 
He takes a moment to adjust to being awake but promptly sits up on the bed, back against the pillows. 
“Thank you,” he replies, as his eyes fall on the tray of food. 
“I know you said you’re not big on breakfast but, I made you a spam omelet,” you say, reaching forward to grab the tray and drag it back towards him. 
He picks up the glass of juice and takes a long drink. 
“The others aren’t planning anything else today are they?” He asks warily, setting the glass back down. 
“Not that I know of…they said you’d kill them,” you shrug. 
“Good,” he nods. “You not eating?”
“There’s more downstairs…I wasn’t sure if you’d want to eat alone or not.” You can’t bring yourself to add ‘with me’ in you response. 
He brings the tray closer to him and cuts a piece of the omelet with the fork. He adds a little bit of rice too, then holds the fork out to you, one hand cupped beneath it to catch anything that falls. 
You shake your head and try to push his hand away but he resists. 
“Open,” he says. 
You find this alarming—the rate at which your mouth drops open at his behest. He puts the fork in your mouth and you close your lips around it, drawing back to take the food from it.
He smiles at you then, a real smile. For the first time that you can remember since you’ve been here. His eyes are puffy from sleep so they get even smaller with his cheeks pressed up and you see he has a deep set of dimples. Before you can stop it, you feel your eyes begin to prickle. 
You recognize the onslaught of the water works and quickly stand from the bed. You don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to know that this small act of kindness felt like so much more to you after how he’s made you feel the past couple of days.
“Please, eat. Enjoy. I’ll see you later,” you say in a rush and head for the door before he can say anything to stop you. 
You don’t know if he calls after you as you speed down the hallway, wiping the lone tear that falls from your eye.
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Later, you catch a ride to campus with Felix and Allie for your afternoon class, happy for another distraction to keep your thoughts of Chan at bay. You ride back home with Changbin and Seungmin who are adamant about having pizza for dinner. They advise you of Chan’s favorite place to order from—another birthday treat for him. They make a stop on the way home for beer and alcohol to celebrate. You’re wary of their choice but they tell you since it’s just those in the house in attendance, he won’t be upset about it. 
Back at the house, you lounge on the sofa watching TV with some of the others until Hyunjin arrives home around 3:00pm. He sits next to you and takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. You lean your head on his shoulder and place your other hand on his arm. You appreciate his consistency and how easy it is to just be yourself without second guessing anything around him.
“How was last night?” He asks quietly.
“It was fine,” you lie.
“See? You were worried for nothing." He drapes his other arm across your side, pulling you closer to him. 
You’re thankful he can’t see your face. You don’t know if the Chan you’re experiencing is different than the one he knows, or if he fully knows what you’re going through and doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal. Either way, you keep it to yourself. 
As more people start to return home, the birthday festivities begin. One case of beer is taken down to the basement to start beer pong and when Chan gets back, the alcohol bottles are cracked opened.
Everyone gathers in the kitchen to take a shot. Chan’s eyes meet yours for the first time since your awkward encounter this morning and you offer a polite smile. Hyunjin pulls you to stand between him and Chan and hands you a shot. You scrunch up your face and shake your head. 
“If I have to celebrate, everyone has to drink,” Chan says matter-of-factly. 
You grab the shot glass in one hand, and hold a can of Coke in the other. 
Lee Know loudly clears his throat before addressing the room. 
“To our fearless and humble leader,” he begins and Han snorts at his words, “We’re thankful to have spent another year with you as our chapter president. We can’t imagine anyone else in your place.”
“Speak for yourself,” Changbin pipes up, causing everyone to chuckle. 
“To another year, and many more to come.” He raises his glass in the air and everyone else follows suit before tossing back the shot. 
You grimace and groan as the burning liquid slides down your throat. 
“Good girl,” Chan says to you quietly, placing a hand on your side.
Your shirt is also tied up the way Jeongin showed you, so his fingers are able to freely roam over the exposed skin there. You tense up at the feeling—this public display. Has he gotten over whatever was bothering him? Did he really just need to release some sexual tension? Or does he just become happier when he drinks?
You don’t have to wait long to find out the answer to the latter. As the evening carries on and everyone moves down to the basement, there’s simultaneous games of beer pong and pool being played. Chan is laughing, smiling, and hugging his fraternity brothers and it’s kind of blowing your mind. 
As he stands behind Lee Know, hands wrapped around his waist and chin wresting on his shoulder as Jeongin says something that makes him laugh, you feel like you’re seeing something you shouldn’t. Who is this person? This can’t be the same guy that made you want to cry yourself to sleep yesterday.
You’re not sure if you should question it, maybe you should just be thrilled that he seems more carefree, perhaps not as weighed down by the responsibility of being the fraternity president tonight. Maybe he’ll be nicer tonight when it’s just the two of you up in his room.
You have another shot when everyone else takes one and have a mixed drink as you play beer pong with Hyunjin as your partner. The overall mood in the house is positive, everyone is having a good time. At one point you spot I.N. and his assignee, Charlotte, making out in the corner. Your eyebrows shoot up at the sight—Han was right. 
When the pizza arrives, you help Seungmin and Felix carry all the boxes down to the basement. You go through the boxes to find the one you ordered specifically for Chan and take it to him where he’s sitting at the bar. Thankfully, Seungmin and Changbin had been with you when you placed the order so you could make sure to get what he likes.
“For you, birthday boy,” you say with a smile, holding the box out to him. He takes it from your hand with a lazy smile and sits it on the bar counter. 
Chan lifts the box open, stares at the pizza inside for no more than two seconds before shutting the box and pushing it away. All traces of his previous smile completely gone. 
“Pineapple?” He forces the word out with a look of disgust, as though it pains him. 
Changbin and Seungmin burst into laughter behind you. You whip your head around and throw a glare in their direction. They played you. They planned for this moment to happen since this afternoon. As they remain doubled over in laughter you press your lips into a firm line and slowly nod your head. You will remember this.
You turn back to face Chan.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, “there’s literally every other kind of pizza you can imagine. What can I get you?”
 “Just plain pepperoni is fine,” he says with a shrug. 
You turn to retrieve him a box, but he catches your wrist to stop you, pulling you back towards him. Since he’s sitting down, you’re right at eye level with him. 
“You can’t be so gullible,” he says softly. “That’s gonna cost ya.”
He lightly taps you on the ass before jerking his head in the direction of the other pizza boxes and sending you on your way. 
He’s making pineapple on pizza sound like a cryptic deadly sin. As you plate him up some pepperoni pizza, his last words linger in your mind. You turn to look back at him, his eyes are on you from across the room. A shiver runs down your spine as your eyes meet his and he smirks. What is this innocent mistake going to cost you?
[ read chapter four here ]
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a/n: i may be having a little too much fun with this chan. like, comment & reblog to keep fueling my writing fire :)
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Afraid to Lose You (M) ~Bang Chan
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Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | bit Angsty | Established Relationship | Soulmate AU Word Count: ~9k | AO3 Synopsis: The aftermath of an argument with a supernatural being was something no one ever prepared you for, much less if that supernatural being was someone you were romantically involved with. You figured it’d happen eventually, you just weren’t aware of how much it could hurt. [This is an instalment of my WereRoomies series. You don’t particularly need to read the other instalments to understand this, but it’ll add more depth to the story if you do, so I highly recommend it~]. Warnings: chubby/curvy MC · usage of the word ‘fat’ in a neutral/positive manner · mandatory Christopher Is Intense warning, but the reader is also Intense so it’s very mutual · couple arguments · they’re in love, your honour · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) .
Author’s Note: i felt like portraying this side of our dearest pack parents. apologies in advance. special thanks to @cursed-mars-bars for reading this and sharing her thoughts with me💜
Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.
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Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments:  It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.
Smut Warnings: oral [M.Rec] · fingering [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control] · creampie.
Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.
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It was rare for you and Chris to have disagreements, but they did happen. You’d argue sometimes, over small things that usually could be resolved by taking some time to cool down and talk it out after. It was usually fine.
What happened just a few minutes ago was completely unprecedented.
You weren’t really sure how it all got out of hand so quickly. It was probably the fact that Chris had arrived home from work at midnight, starving and tired out of his mind, the fact that you decided to talk about such a sensitive topic right then and there, right as he munched on a sandwich.
‘What if you turn me? Wouldn’t that be better?’ You’d had those questions on the back of your mind for a while now, mulling on the possibility of your boyfriend turning you into a werewolf, into what he himself was. To you, it made more sense, since you were essentially leading a pack with him. You being human, in your mind, made it so there were certain things you couldn’t do, or activities you couldn’t participate in, and, sometimes, you’d admit you got a bit insecure about it.
‘Absolutely not’, you’d never heard Chris say something so firmly, so incredibly serious.
For some reason, you got defensive, Chris got defensive, and at some point everything started escalating. If you thought about it in depth, it was probably the time of day, the fact that you were both tired. 
He was so stubborn, and, in that moment, whatever he told you felt just so diminishing, something he’d never ever made you feel, something he never did. Logically, you knew Chris valued you and your opinions, but tonight, it seemed like logic wasn’t leading his train of thought, nor yours.
‘What the fuck’s gotten into you? Why’s this suddenly a problem?’ He’d asked at some point, probably louder than he had intended to, and, it just made you answer louder in return. 
It wasn’t just suddenly a problem, it had always been a problem. Or, at least, it seemed like that to you right then, when you were talking to him.
‘I don’t want you to turn!’
‘And what if I do want to?!’ You’d countered, because, ultimately, wasn’t what you wanted what mattered most?
‘Are you out of your mind?!’
Chris never ever spoke to you like that, and maybe that was why you got defensive. 
‘So if I don’t do what you want I’m out of my mind?!’
‘That’s not what I said!’
It was a seemingly endless back and forth, an endless loop of both you and him further rubbing salt in the freshly open wound. Saying things you didn’t mean, in ways that were nowhere near appropriate, until you just couldn’t take it anymore.
“That’s it. I’m fucking leaving”, you took your phone and your keys, and it was just as you were putting your shoes on that Chris caught up to you.
“Where the fuck are you going?!”
“Away!” You turned to look at him. You weren’t really sure how to read the expression on his face. Angry? Tired? Annoyed? Hurt? You honestly couldn’t reason it too much, you were too preoccupied trying not to cry. Because you’d be damned if you cried right now. “Can’t stand being near you right now”.
“But–!”
“I said I’m leaving”, you interrupted him, still speaking louder than you normally would, but no longer shouting, at least. “I need space, Christopher”.
Chris didn’t follow you after you stepped out of your flat and slammed the door closed. You knew he wouldn’t, and you honestly didn’t want him to, it would’ve probably made everything so much worse.
You knew where you wanted to go, but there was no way you could get there at this time without a car. So you made your way to Changbin’s. If they turned you down you’d try someone else, but, even in the unstable state of your mind, you knew they wouldn’t.
So, as soon as you stood in front of Changbin’s door, you knocked. It was late, you were well aware of that, but there was only one person you felt like you could go to right now, and you were sure they wouldn’t hold it against you.
When Changbin’s girlfriend opened the door, hair mussed, wearing nothing but a nightgown, you hauled yourself at her, hugging her tightly and burying your face in the crook of her neck. You couldn’t stop the tears anymore, it was too late for that.
She was a bit taken aback, but she immediately hugged you back, mumbling a quiet, and very, very sleepy ‘Hey, honey, what’s wrong? What happened?’
You couldn’t mutter a single word, you just sobbed against her shoulder as she waddled back into the flat with you in her arms, closing the door quietly behind her.
When you finally managed to pull yourself away from her shoulder, she cradled your face in her hands, wiping your tears away, but they wouldn’t stop. “Baby, what happened?”
You just shook your head, hugging her again.
“Is Chris okay?” You heard Changbin mumble from somewhere behind you, and you shook your head again, not even looking at him, getting your friend’s shoulder drenched in your tears.
Changbin sighed, but he didn’t sound annoyed. If anything, it was a worried sigh. After a few moments of silence, you heard the front door open and close.
“He’s gone”, Changbin’s girlfriend mumbled, patting your shoulder. “Babe, talk to me. Can’t help you if you don’t”.
With a deep, shaky breath, you finally pulled yourself away from her shoulder so you could look at her.
Wiping the trail of tears on your cheeks, you mumbled, “I need a favour…”
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Being in your mother’s house always made you feel safe. Which was why you always ended up here whenever you needed some time to disconnect from the outside world and think about things. 
Your mother didn’t even question why you’d appeared in her house in the middle of the night with one of your friends, she simply let you in and offered Changbin’s girlfriend a warm drink and essentially begged her to stay the night because ‘It’s really late, darling. You already drove all the way here, you should rest before you leave…’
You were honestly happy she took the offer. That night, when you finally made it to your childhood room, Changbin’s girlfriend slept with you, hugging you close in an attempt to soothe your aching heart.
On the way here, you’d told her the details of what had happened, of your argument with Chris, and she had been nothing but understanding the entire time. Even if you’d woken her up all of a sudden, she still drove you to your mother’s place when you asked her to, regardless of the time, and without any hesitation.
‘Call me if you need anything. Hm?’ was the last thing she told you the next day before she left, and you honestly couldn’t help but feel immensely grateful. Not only for her help, but for her friendship in general.
Three days had passed since then, and, as you stared up at the ceiling, way past midnight, with your eyes fixed on the spinning fan, you just couldn’t ignore the heavy feeling in your chest. 
This was the longest you’d spent without talking to Chris, and you quickly realised you absolutely hated it.
Whenever you felt like you needed to think things through and regroup your feelings you had always tried to pull yourself away from the situation, cool down, and then go back to face it head on and resolve the problem. However, what you hadn’t anticipated was how much you’d hate being away from your home, being away from Chris…
You honestly weren’t sure if it’d been worth it at all. All you’d felt these days was this all-consuming feeling of sadness, coupled with an immeasurable amount of longing. All that introspection you’d done during your stay here was quickly bringing you to the conclusion that things had blown out of proportion.
Turning to look at your bedside table, you stared at the journal you’d found this morning in the bottom drawer of your dresser. From things you’d dreamt, to things that had happened to you at school, to arguments with friends…Reading your thoughts from when you were little was a bit amusing, considering how all your problems from back then seemed so insignificant now. You enjoyed reading them regardless, though.
Taking your phone in your hand, you unlocked it and went to your messaging app. Your eyes fixed on the screen in front of you, re-reading the messages Changbin and Seungmin had sent you this morning.
> BroBin💪: i’m sure you have a very valid reason to not be here > i know it’s only been like 2 days > and i know it’s none of my business > but chris is absolutely miserable  > and i just can’t bear seeing him like that > if you asked for space i doubt he’ll reach out to you first > so i’m literally begging you to please consider talking to him
Of course Changbin was worried about Chris. He always was, and you wholeheartedly understood him, but Seungmin’s messages were the ones you’d been mulling over the most.
> Seungminnie🐶: mama > u dont have to respond and i know u prolly wont > no one has said anything > but i noticed ur not here > and christophers moping > are u not talking? > u should talk to him if thats the case > itd be really bad if you dont > i think theres something you should know…
These messages had been staring at you all day. You hadn’t really replied to Changbin, nor Seungmin–just like he’d predicted.
You’d admit you tended to isolate yourself when you needed a breather, even from friends. It was just insanely hard for you to reply to them, maybe irrationally so–not something you were proud of by any means, you were just overwhelmed.
Seungmin’s revelation had been roaming freely in your head since you read his messages… To top it all off, Chris was miserable, and you weren’t that much better, so what was the point of all this? 
Going back to your recent chats list, your finger hovered over your conversation with Chris, and you suddenly felt a knot form in your throat just at the sight of his name. That was enough for you to know it was time, you just couldn’t keep running away from this, so, with a racing heart, you clicked on his chat and quickly sent him a few messages, all before your own self-doubt made you recoil.
&lt; You: i’m sorry < for the things i said < you didnt deserve that
Not even twenty seconds after you sent those, you received Chris’ reply, so you replied as well.
> Chris 🐺💕: mind if i drop by ?
&lt; You: no i dont mind
> Chris 🐺💕: be there in around an hour
&lt; You: i’ll be in the backyard with joaquin < just fyi in case you ring the bell and i dont answer < you can just text when youre here
It was a forty-five minute drive from the den to your mother’s house, and that was not accounting for any possible traffic. Just thinking that Chris was making his way to you as soon as you gave him the go-ahead made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It reminded you that, ultimately, Chris would always respect your boundaries, he’d always lookout for you, and you honestly wanted to cry just thinking about it.
So, you got out of that bed as fast as you could and ran to your bathroom to take the quickest shower you possibly could. You’d honestly barely left your bed the entire time you’d been here–something your mother did comment on, but any of her efforts to get you out of your room were futile.
That shower made you feel as if you’d been reborn. People truly underestimated how a good shower could immensely improve your mood, yourself included. So, with a fresh pair of shorts and the oversized t-shirt you kept in your childhood room’s dresser, you finally made your way to the backyard, and sat on one of the chairs to watch Joaquín chase squirrels around.
Joaquín was your mother’s dog, whose favourite pastime was chasing rodents of all kinds. She adopted him from a shelter around five years ago, so you really didn’t know which breed he was–if any. He was a big dog, with black and brown coat, short haired, and probably one of the friendliest dogs you’d ever met–although, if you thought about it in depth, wouldn’t your boyfriend and your friends be the friendliest dogs you’d ever met? You just chuckled at the thought.
As soon as the one hour mark since you received your boyfriend’s texts passed you started to feel antsy. You’d glance at your phone every couple of minutes, or fiddle with the loose threads of the table cloth in front of you.
You started to worry, too. What if something had happened while Chris was driving here? What if he had an accident and the last thing you did together before it happened was have an argument? What if–
Suddenly, Joaquín bolted out of your sight, and you heard him barking as well as the undeniable sound of your boyfriend’s gentle voice trying to calm him down. “Hey there, buddy. It’s been a while, huh? Shh, yeah, yeah. It’s just me. Yeah, I know you’re excited, but tone it down a bit. You’re gonna wake up the whole neighbourhood at this rate…”
You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face as you heard them talk to each other–as much as Chris talking to your mother’s dog and Joaquín barking at your boyfriend could be considered having a conversation. 
Just as you were about to walk back into the house, you heard a thud, and Joaquín quickly made his way to where you were, panting and wagging his tail.
Your boyfriend appeared seconds after, which immediately made Joaquín turn his attention back to him again.
“Hey”, Chris gave you a small smile, and it honestly made your heart skip a beat.
“Hey”, you watched as he instructed Joaquín to go play and give you two some space, to which the dog immediately complied. “I could’ve just met you at the front door, you know? No need to jump over the fence”.
 “Very true, but then I wouldn’t have been able to play burglar and dog with Joaquín”, Chris chuckled.
Silence enveloped you, and you simply took in the sight of your boyfriend. He was wearing one of his hoodies, a cap, and some gym shorts, the first items he probably found in the closet before coming here. Most worrying, though, was how pale his face looked.
“Have you gotten any sleep?” You couldn’t help but ask, the bags under his eyes and his overall complexion looked just like they did when he pulled an all-nighter, but somehow much worse.
Chris shrugged. “Have you?”
You hadn’t.
You’d been sleeping horribly.
Every time you tried to sleep you felt like something was missing, and anxiety made your heart feel heavy in your chest. If you did manage to fall asleep, you’d wake up a few hours after, mindlessly seeking your boyfriend’s body heat and finding none of it, which only fed that feeling of uneasiness that had clung to every fibre of your body.
“Not really, no”, you answered with honesty, because there was no point in hiding it. It was clear that you both were having a bad time, and you couldn’t help but feel incredibly guilty. “I’m sorry”.
“I’m sorry, too”, Chris replied simply, taking a step closer to where you were standing, clearly trying his best to not invade your personal space. 
It was so weird. Having Chris so physically distant to you, on purpose, was something you weren’t used to anymore, and the more he stayed rooted on the spot, the more you yearned to be enveloped in his warmth, in his scent.
So you took tentative steps towards him, all while Chris just looked at you with the saddest look in his eyes, resembling a kicked puppy. The only other time you could remember seeing this look on Chris’ face was the night you found out he and the rest of your friends were werewolves, right after you’d finished your confrontational conversation in the landing between floors, right after you told him not to follow you when you left.
“I shouldn’t have…spoken to you like that. I really am sorry”, you finally stood in front of him, but not as close as you wished you were.
“I shouldn’t have, either. I was exhausted that day, I let panic flood my brain, and I was being irrational”.
You couldn’t bear the distance anymore, so you reached for him, taking a hold of the front of his hoodie with an admittedly trembling grip. That simple gesture was all it took for Chris to finally move, to finally wrap his arms around your frame and hold you tight against his body. His sigh of relief didn’t go unnoticed, just like the way his muscles seemed to relax as soon as you were within his arms didn’t.
Relief washed over you immediately, especially when you buried your face in the crook of his neck, when you got that faint whiff of sea air that seemed to always emanate from your boyfriend.
“Pretty…” Chris cradled the back of your head, softly caressing your hair, holding you close. “You know I’d give you the world. Anything you asked me for…But this is something I won’t do, and that I beg you to not ask anyone else to do. It’s not certain you’d survive the turning process, and that’s a risk I’m just not willing to take”.
You hummed, moving your hands from his chest to instead wrap your arms around his waist so you could hold him tighter.
“I know you…can get in your head sometimes with this, but trust me, human you is just as adequate as a possible werewolf you. Why risk your life when you’re already perfect just as you are? I just…” Chris’ voice broke a little bit. It made your heart ache and a knot formed in your throat. He tightened his hold, taking a deep breath. “I can’t lose you, baby. I just can’t…Especially if it’s over something that can be avoided”.
“You won’t…” You mumbled against his neck, pressing a quick kiss on his skin. “You’re right…I was in my head. Overthinking…”
Chris hummed, and he pressed a kiss on your temple. “I’m still sorry for how I talked to you”.
“Me, too”, you rubbed your forehead on his shoulder, getting drenched in the smell of your shared home, in the smell of him. “I love you…”
Chris pulled away from you to cup your cheeks. The warmth of his palms on your face almost made your shiver, the soft drag of his thumbs over your skin had your heart beating fast in your chest, and the way he was looking at you, with his pretty eyes all glossy, as if you held his world in your hands, had tears collecting in your eyes.
“I love you. So much. You’re my everything, you know?”
You just nodded, and the second Chris’ lips were on yours you just couldn’t contain the soft whimper that came out of your throat.
Bringing your hands from where they had been wrapped around Chris’ middle, you took his cap off, held it in your hand, and buried the other in his slightly damp hair in one swift movement. Chris hummed, clearly relishing the tender caress of your fingers on his scalp. His tongue made contact with your bottom lip, and you immediately parted your lips to let him into your mouth.
With his hands on the small of your back, Chris simply held you close as he ravished your mouth, almost like he needed to kiss you to keep his heart beating, just like you did. It might’ve been three days, but those three days seemed to have lasted a lifetime, and now that you had your boyfriend’s warmth surrounding you again, you honestly couldn’t care about anything else.
Chris detached his lips from yours, only to reattach them to your cheek, pressing tender kisses on your skin. “Missed you so much, pretty…”
He said those words in a way that made it seem like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, and you wholeheartedly shared the sentiment. “Missed you, too, baby…”
“Come back home”, he mumbled against your cheekbone before pulling back. He cupped one of your cheeks in his hand, while the other remained on the small of your back. “Our bed just feels so empty and cold when you’re not there. I hate it”.
“I will”, you replied simply, leaning into his tender touch. “Tomorrow, though. It’s too late, baby, and you’ve barely had any sleep. Let’s stay here tonight?”
Chris hummed, pressing a brief kiss on your lips. “Sure. As long as I get to hug you to sleep tonight I don’t care where we stay”. 
Chris sent Minho and Changbin a quick message, letting them know he was here with you, and to not turn away any packmate that might need some alpha support tonight–you doubted there’d be any, but it was good they were prepared just in case. You honestly didn’t like that both you and Chris had to be away, but when Minho replied to Chris’ message with a simple ‘👌’ you felt immediately at ease.
“Is your mum sleeping?” Chris asked as soon as you were stepping back into the house, getting out of his shoes. 
You shook your head. “She’s not even home. She went out with her friends and had a bit too much to drink, so she’s staying with one of them”.
“So it was just gonna be you and Joaquín in this big house?” Chris turned to look at Joaquín, just as the dog made his way to the sofa. “You would’ve protected my girl if anything happened, right?”
The dog huffed, jumping on the sofa, turning a few times only to finally plop down on one of the ends, on his usual sleeping spot.
Chris just chuckled, shaking his head.
“What’d he say?” You took a hold of your boyfriend’s hand, offering a ‘Good night, Joaco baby’ to your mother’s dog after you sent her a quick text and went through the motions of switching the lights of the living room, right when you walked past him on your way to your room. 
“Essentially that he’d die for you”, Chris held your hand tighter. “And that he was happy to see you smile again”.
As Chris had explained it to you, animals didn’t really communicate with words. They gestured, their scents would change, and there was just something in their body language that made it so they could understand each other. It was funny to think that your boyfriend could hold conversations with your mother’s dog like this, especially when you knew that the only reason he was verbally talking to him, with human language, was because Chris wanted you to not feel left out, which you appreciated.
As soon as you made it to your room, you got out of your shorts to sleep only in the tee you were wearing like you usually did. After you pulled back the covers, you laid as close to the wall as possible, leaving enough room for your boyfriend. This bed was smaller than the one back home, so it’d be a tight fit, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind, just like you didn’t–if anything, tonight, you wanted zero space between you and Chris. You’d had enough of that the past three days.
Chris pulled his hoodie over his head, and he haphazardly placed it on your desk. He joined you on the bed after, immediately pulling you against his chest. 
“Sleeping in shorts? Who are you and what have you done to my boyfriend?” You couldn’t help but comment, chuckling a little as you started to caress his back.
Chris laughed, the sound a bit muffled against your hair. “I don’t know…being butt-naked at your mum’s doesn’t feel right”. 
“Mm…It’s the first time you’re sleeping here, isn’t it? Hadn’t realised”.
Chris hummed, absentmindedly playing with your hair. “First time laying on your childhood bed”.
“It’s more than a childhood bed at this point. I was sleeping here until I moved to your den”, a minute shiver shot down your spine when your boyfriend sneaked a hand under your shirt, slowly dragging it from your hip to your waist, where he settled to lightly squish the soft roll that usually formed there.
“Our den…But still”, Chris pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you scooted closer to him, relishing the drag of his hand over your bare skin. “Missed squishing you, pretty”.
You couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s why you asked me to be your girlfriend, right? To be your own personal stress ball?”
“Mm. That, and because of your child bearing hips, and this scrumptious fat ass”, he moved his hand from your waist to your bum, patting it lightly, giggling.
“What about my thighs, though?”
“God, don’t mention your thighs. I’ll pop a chub”. 
“Ah, of course”, you brought your hand behind him to squeeze his buttock. “You’re just like me, then”. 
“See? That’s why we’re perfect for each other”, there was a playful tone in his voice, but you knew that under all his jokes, laid some real feelings, some very deep feelings that you were sure matched your own. 
You pulled yourself from his chest to look him in the eyes. A soft smile settled on your lips, and you brought a hand to his face so you could lightly drag your fingertips from his forehead, down the curve of his nose, only to finally catch on his plush bottom lip. “You know…I was reading my childhood journal…I used to write my dreams in that diary. I had forgotten so many of them, honestly. Most of them were all nonsensical shit, but…there’s one that was quite interesting. Wanna hear about it?”
Chris nodded, taking a hold of your hand to press kisses on your palm.
“So, started with me in the foyer putting my shoes on before I left the house. I ended up walking for a long time, until I found myself in a forest. There were faeries flying all around, gnomes mining rocks, leprechauns protecting pots of gold… It was fascinating. It felt like I was walking for hours, until I finally made it to a stream, where I found a wolf. And it was like this wolf and I just…knew each other. It laid down on the grass and I laid down as well, propping my head on him, like it was the fluffiest pillow. Kinda like we do sometimes at home when we’re cold, you know?”
Chris just hummed in confirmation, dragging his lips from your palm to your wrist, where he also pressed a few lingering kisses.
“Knowing what I know now, I’d like to think that wolf was you…” You continued, placing a hand on his chest. He was so warm and his heart was beating so fast–faster than usual… “Like it was you meeting me in my dreams before we even knew what we’d mean to each other”. 
“That’s…literally so cute, baby”, Chris mumbled against the skin of your wrist, before he finally pulled it towards his chest, bringing it close to your other hand.
“You’re the wolf of my dreams, Christopher”. 
Chris giggled a bit, averting your gaze and biting his lip, looking incredibly adorable once a rosy flush started spreading on his cheeks. You couldn’t help but giggle with him, leaning in to press a brief, lingering kiss on his lips.
“So…Did I miss anything while I was gone?” You asked as soon as you pulled back from the kiss, and Chris sighed, bracing himself for what he was about to tell you.
Apparently, when Changbin left you and his girlfriend in his flat, he’d gone to Chris, knowing he’d be having a bad time. They fought, or, at least, Chris was trying to pick a fight. He seemed to be embarrassed about it now, but he was grateful that Changbin dropped by to check on him regardless, it did help him calm down a bit.
The rest of the pack clearly knew something was wrong, but no one brought it up to Chris, which he was kind of grateful for, but also annoyed by. ‘If they don’t talk to me, it means they’re talking to each other behind my back, which means they were probably feeding all these crazy theories in their heads, you know how the kids are…’
Nothing really out of the ordinary happened besides that. Felix and Hyunjin’s partner dropped by, and apparently also gave Chris a pep talk. ‘Let’s talk alpha to alpha, they said’, Chris chuckled, recalling how she was somehow trying to help him reason his feelings, but scolding him at the same time because he’d hurt you.
You honestly weren’t sure how long you spent talking to Chris, and you honestly didn’t care much, either. You just loved to listen to him speak, and just the mere sound of his voice and his warmth all around you was immensely soothing. It all made your eyes droop and your head sink further into your pillow.
“Baby…” Chris mumbled against your hair after a few moments of silence, and you simply hummed to let him know he had your attention. “I’d like to…feel you. If you’re fine with that”.
Your boyfriend was a big fan of physical contact, especially skin-to-skin contact, which was very convenient for you, considering you also loved to feel him against you at any given moment. So you pulled yourself away from him, pulling your t-shirt over your head and throwing it somewhere by the end of the bed to quickly snuggle back within Chris’ arms.
As soon as you tucked your head under his chin, and your skin made contact with his, Chris sighed. A sigh of relief that perfectly matched your own, followed by a sleepy murmur of ‘That’s more like it. Love you…’
With your boyfriend’s arm under your neck, curled around your shoulders while the other hugged your waist to keep you tight against him, with your legs intertwined as comfortably as you could, laying close to each other on your much too small bed, you finally let Chris’ body heat and overall presence lull you to sleep.
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The second you woke up the next morning and felt your boyfriend’s warmth against your back and his strong arm around your waist, you truly felt at ease. You had noticed it was hard for you to sleep without him there, but you hadn’t fully grasped just how much until now. 
Taking his hand in yours, you brought it close to your face so you could leisurely press kisses on his fingertips and his palm. It was crazy how much you’d missed Chris in such a short amount of time, but here you were, feeling as if it’d been weeks. It honestly puzzled you a bit, but you couldn’t think too much about it, not when the soft presses of your lips on your boyfriend��s hand seemed to have woken him up.
“Morning…” He mumbled, shuffling a bit to mould his body completely against yours.
“Morning, baby”, you mumbled back, letting go of Chris’ hand when he started to move it away from your face so he could rest it on your belly.
“What time is it?” Chris nuzzled his face on your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but chuckle and squirm a little when his hair tickled your skin with the movement.
“Dunno”, the blackout drapes over your windows made it so you truly had no idea what time it was, and you hadn’t even checked your phone since you texted your mother last night to let her know Chris was here. You honestly didn’t even know where you left it.
Chris just hummed, holding your belly a bit tighter and starting to leave kisses on the skin of your shoulder, effectively kickstarting the butterflies in your stomach, and prompting the next words to come out of your mouth.
“Is it too soon to have makeup sex?”
You heard Chris giggle behind you as soon as you asked the question, and the sound alone made you smile.
“You know if it’s up to me, it’s never too soon for any type of sex”, Chris pressed his crotch further against your ass, letting you feel just how hard he already was. “But I don’t wanna be disrespectful”.
“To whom?” You chuckled, laying your hand on top of his on your tummy.
“To you, silly”, he pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “And your mum. This is her house, after all”.
You couldn’t help but scoff at that. “So that time we came over for her bimonthly barbeque and you sat me on the bathroom counter to eat me out wasn’t disrespectful?”
“That was different!” Chris laughed, nuzzling your shoulder.
You turned in his hold so you could lay face to face next to him. “Mhm, tell me how?”
As soon as he looked at you, Chris went serious. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but he didn’t say anything. Not until he cupped your cheeks and squished them together with his palms.
“Holy shit. You’re so cute”, you felt heat pool on your cheeks as soon as the words left his mouth. He squished your cheeks further, forcing a pout to form on your lips. “How’d I get so lucky, huh?”
“Babe…” You whined, suddenly feeling bashful under his sparkly gaze.
In an instant, Chris’ lips were on you. He pressed kisses all over your face, making you giggle and squirm a bit in his hold. “God, I don’t wanna wake up without you next to me ever again. I’m so fucked”.
“Hopefully you won’t have to”, you mumbled, melting as soon as your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your lips.
“Hopefully not”, he said simply, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you flush to him.
Chris moved, taking you with him for you to lay on top of him. You shuffled a bit, straddling his hips to lay more comfortably when his lips attached to your neck, kissing and nibbling on your pulse point.
His hands roaming your back, your sides, your ass, squeezing your soft flesh anytime he could, his lips and his tongue on your neck, his unmistakable scent, everything combined had shivers running up and down your spine and butterflies flying freely in your belly. Without even thinking twice about it, you rolled your hips, making Chris groan with the pressure of your centre against his length, and he detached his mouth from your skin immediately.
“Fuck…Yeah. Yeah, we can have makeup sex. Let’s have all the sex. Every sex”, his rambling made you laugh, and you pressed a brief kiss on his forehead before you moved.
Shuffling further down his body, you attached your lips to Chris’ neck. Right now, you felt like you needed to kiss him. Anywhere and everywhere. You wanted to feel his heated skin under your lips, your hands, your body…You just wanted to feel him, so you didn’t hold back.
Slowly, leisurely, you took your time savouring Chris’ body, leaving trails of kisses from his neck, to his chest, his stomach, his tummy…All as he sighed and hummed contently, as he buried his fingers in your hair when you stopped at the waistband of his shorts, focusing on the barely perceptible freckles that littered his skin, making sure not to leave a single one unkissed.
“Can I take these off?” You mumbled, hooking your fingers under the waistband of his shorts.
Chris just hummed, taking them off himself and throwing them right where your t-shirt had landed last night. As you suspected, he wasn’t even wearing underwear.
“You drove all the way here just in your shorts?” You couldn’t help but chuckle, settling yourself between his legs, running your hands up and down his thighs.
“‘Course I did. Had no time to put on an extra item of clothing when the prettiest girl told me I could come over”, Chris grinned at you, and you grinned back, shaking your head from side to side a bit, mumbling an ‘Unbelievable…’
The grin disappeared from Chris’ face the moment you took him in your hand, teasing him with soft strokes that instead had him closing his eyes and sighing. Your boyfriend loved to have his way with you, and you loved letting him get away with it. But, sometimes, you also wanted your fun, and he was more than ready to let you indulge.
You continued your motions, not only the motions of your hand, but the previous motions of your lips, pressing kisses on any freckle on his tummy, and even on his length, simply relishing the taste of his skin. Until you just couldn’t wait any longer, until you couldn’t stop yourself from licking a long stripe from the base of his cock all the way to his head, all so you could finally take him in your mouth.
Chris swore under his breath, bringing a hand to the back of your head, not really moving you, simply caressing your hair, taking in the sight of his length going in and out of your mouth, mumbling. “You’re always pretty, but you certainly look even prettier with my cock in your mouth, baby…”
You just hummed in response, ignoring the heat you felt spread on your face. Whether that heat was caused by the dirty words constantly falling from your boyfriend’s lips, or by the way you were borderline choking on him and slurping him up, you weren’t too sure.
You spent a while just working Chris’ length, sucking him off, swallowing every bit of pre-cum that spilled from his tip, jerking the rest of his shaft you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You did it until the feeling of emptiness in your core was just too much to bear. It truly hadn’t been that long, three days wasn’t even the longest you’d ever spent without having sex with Chris, but considering the circumstances, you figured your body just missed him.
With a lewd pop, you let him fall from your mouth, all so you could climb your way back up to sit on his lap and kiss him. Burying your fingers in his hair, you pulled him as close to you as you could, just as Chris’ fingers dug on your soft sides, whimpering a bit at the feel of his tongue against yours, of his lips on your own.
“Gimme some room, pretty. Hm?” Chris mumbled against your lips, right before biting on your lower lip and tugging it, just as he brought a hand between your bodies.
So you complied, lifting your hips just a bit, enough for him to bring two fingers to your entrance. Chris wasted no time, he spread your essence all over, getting his fingers drenched before he finally stuffed those two fingers within your warmth.
A quiet whimper left your mouth as soon as he started moving his fingers, as soon as he started massaging the utmost sensitive areas within your walls, stretching you open in the process. The slow, calculated movements of his fingers were a complete contrast to the borderline desperate way he was kissing you. You were starting to feel lightheaded, breathless, and you were sure your heart was close to bursting out of your chest.
Detaching your lips from his, you attached them to his cheek, trying to catch your breath. You couldn’t help but whine when Chris removed his fingers from your core. The sight of him bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean, with his eyebrows pulled together in bliss, had you clenching around air, had you craving his warmth, too.
So you brought your hand between your bodies, taking a hold of your boyfriend’s length and lining him with your entrance right as you kissed him again.
“Love, wait…” Chris pulled away from your lips, just before you took him inside of you. “Need to stretch you more first”.
You just shook your head, leaning in to press a brief kiss on his cheekbone. “Can’t wait that long”.
“Baby…” Chris was giving you his Worried Tone, and you appreciated it, you really did, but you also needed to have him inside you now or you were sure you’d cry.
You pressed a few more kisses on his cheeks, mumbling. “I can take it…Need you. Now”.
“Fuck, you’re playing dirty…” Chris chuckled. His need to give you what you wanted and his instinct to make sure you didn’t get hurt were clearly at odds with each other here, but you knew very well what your limits were. “Fine, but go slow. Hm?”
“Mhm…” You placed a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth before you took him in your hand and lined him with your entrance again.
With a deep breath, you finally started to lower yourself on Chris’ lap, taking him in one centimetre at a time.
Funny thing, how Chris asked you to go slow, as if you had any semblance of control whatsoever, as if he wasn’t holding your hips tightly to make sure you did go slow. Sure, it was a bit more difficult than usual, but you were already so used to your boyfriend’s body it wasn’t particularly painful, just a bit of tighter fit.
As soon as you were fully sat on his cock, you sighed, almost relieved that you were finally stuffed full, just as Chris swore under his breath. You moved a hand from where it’d been resting against his chest to his cheek instead, and he closed his eyes, turning his head to place a kiss on your palm.
“So warm…” He mumbled against the skin of your palm, and he removed one of his hands from your hips to bring it to yours on his face, cradling it so he could press kisses on your wrist. The soft drag of his lips over the sensitive skin further agitated those butterflies in your belly.
Leaning into him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in the crook of his neck, just as one of his arms circled your waist and his hand found its way into your hair, cradling the back of your neck, holding you close once you finally started to move.
“You know you’re my dream girl, right?” Chris whispered in your ear, chuckling when you involuntarily clenched around him. 
Pressing soft kisses on his neck, you hummed. “I know. But I love hearing it anyway”.
“I know you do…I can feel it”, he moved his hand from where it was laying around your waist to grope one of your buttcheeks instead.
Chris let you keep the slow bounce of your hips, clearly in no rush to do anything other than fondle your soft flesh, than enjoying your body and your kisses and your overall attention. You could feel his body getting warmer, his chest heaving, and the low hums and sighs that left his lips under your movements had your mind hazing a bit. 
“I’m so…happy”, you mumbled against his skin, pressing kisses up his neck until you found his cheek, leaving a lingering kiss there. “Happy that you’re mine”.
Chris’ hand that was cradling your head finally moved, finding your other buttcheek. He held you tightly, almost tight enough to bruise, and you knew your little time of control was over. “Love to be yours…Love that you’re mine…”
Finding your lips, Chris kissed you deeply, holding you with a firm grip. He moved you up and down his cock however he pleased, with no difficulty. His tongue in your mouth, pushing against yours, felt like the tastiest dessert you’d ever had, coupled with the feel of him going in and out of you, hitting all your sweetest spots, was quickly clouding your mind, filling it with only your loving boyfriend, the delicious drag of his cock against your walls, and the feeling of his hands on your flesh.
“You know…” Chris moved away from your mouth, attaching his lips to your neck instead to suck a mark on it, making you squirm a little. “Sometimes…It feels like you were made for me…” His hold on your bum tightened, and the pace in which he was bouncing you up and down his cock increased just the tiniest bit.
“Your tight cunt, your fat ass, your soft tits, your thick thighs…” Every word that came out of his mouth had you whimpering, had you whining softly close to his ear. Threading your fingers through his hair, you held him tightly, relishing his wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest. “But not just that…”
Kissing up your neck, Chris found your earlobe, lightly sucking and licking on it. “You’re so kind, smart…so caring, and strong willed…”
Before you knew it, you were rolling, and the tiniest of squeaks left your lips once Chris flipped you both over so he was now on top of you. There were few things in this world you enjoyed more than your boyfriend’s weight on you. It always filled you with a pleasant mix of comfort and arousal. The way he moved your thighs so you could wrap your legs around his torso, to lock one ankle over the other so you could keep him there as he continued to drill into you, it all was quickly filling you with a sense of fullness quite like never before.
His mouth claimed yours, kissing you with want, all while his hips slowly  rocked back and forth to fill you with all of him time and time again. You truly felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest, like it was skipping every other beat.
With one of his arms under your neck and the other around your lower back to tilt you however he wanted, you simply let yourself enjoy the feeling of him all around you, in you, dragging your hands up and down his back, feeling each dip and curve of his muscles, relishing his warmth, his body heat.
“I’m just…” Chris murmured between kisses. “Madly in love with you…”
Your heart swelled in your chest, now full of just Chris. You could only vaguely hear the whines and quiet moans that left your mouth with each thrust, with each word coming out of your boyfriend’s kiss-bitten lips, and your nails dug on his back as he increased his pace.
“I love you…��� You simply mumbled back, holding tight onto him, swallowing the almost desperate moan that came out of his lips as soon as your words registered in his brain.
“Say it again”, Chris buried his face in the crook of your neck, bringing a hand between your bodies so he could start rubbing circles on your clit.
The slow movement of his hips was now long gone. His pace grew faster, the headboard started to thump against the wall, a sound you weren’t really used to–unlike your bed at home, this one was most certainly not werewolf-proof. It would’ve distracted you, had Chris not increased the intensity of his thrusts, drilling into you as hard as you knew he could, making you see stars and making you lose your sense of reality.
It took you a moment to comply, too lost in the feeling of it all. “I…I love you”.
“Again”, his voice was a bit strained, but you could barely register it with the unrelenting pace of his fingers on that sensitive bud between your legs, with the feel of him splitting you open time and time again.
“Love you, Chris. I’m–”
With one final moan of his name, you finally felt your release wash over you, dragging warmth all throughout your body. You bit on his shoulder to ground yourself, your nails dug on his back, and the blissed-out sounds coming out of your boyfriend’s mouth joined the ringing that had started in your ears.
“Fuck, fuck…Love you…so much…” Burying himself as deep as he could, Chris finally stilled, filling you up, pumping you full of his release, of everything he had to give.
As you came down from your high, you could vaguely feel his rumble against your chest, and even in your post orgasmic, hazy state you couldn’t help but smile, holding tightly onto him, just as he held onto you, as he pressed soft, tender kisses on your neck. Chris truly never rumbled often, but when he did, it was because he was either falling into a more animalistic state, or because he was particularly vulnerable, and as you held him, you knew the reason was the latter.
When he pulled away from your neck to finally press a loving kiss on your lips, you couldn’t help but notice the blush on his face and his ears. You simply brushed your nose against his, relishing the small giggle that left his lips when you did.
“Be right back”, Chris tried to pull himself away from your embrace, but you held him tightly in place, keeping your limbs firmly around him. Realistically, he was stronger than you, and he could pull you off of his body easily, but he didn’t, he simply regarded you with a curious–and maybe a bit confused–look.
You looked him in the eyes for a bit, until you unwrapped your arms from around his neck to instead cradle his face in your hands, softly stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “I’m so, so in love with you. Truly”.
His flush deepened, just as the widest smile spread on his lips, making his eyes disappear into crescents and his dimples pop on his cheeks. With one more kiss on his lips, you finally let go of him. Chris simply left the comfort of your bed, and he made his way to your dresser, so he could grab a random towel from one of the drawers.
He cleaned you up thoroughly, wiping the fluids leaking from your ruined core, all as he smothered your face with kisses, making your heart flutter in your chest and your cheeks heat up.
As soon as he was done he dumped the towel on the floor, tucking you and himself back under the covers, uncaring of the soiled sheets as he held you close to his body, stroking your back, your thighs, your bum…
“Sorry if I didn’t let you keep the pace for long…” Chris mumbled against your hair, sounding just as sleepy as you felt, even when it was early in the day. You figured the sleepless nights were catching up to you both.
Leaving a quick peck on his chest, you snuggled closer. “It’s okay, darling. You know I love when you manhandle me”.
“Don’t you mean wolf-handle you?” Chris giggled, mostly to himself, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Any-handle me”, you confirmed, draping your leg over his torso and pulling him further into you, pressing yourself fully to his heated skin. “Just love to feel you…”
“Mm…Me too”, he simply caressed your back, keeping you close.
You both kept silent for a while, simply basking in your love and the lingering feeling of your high.
“If we ever fight again…I’ll try my best not to run away”, you mumbled, tracing mindless shapes on his chest.
Chris took a deep breath, and you felt his chest rise and fall under your head. “I understand why you do it. If it helps you, then I won’t stop you”.
“But…it hurts you, baby”.
“I manage…” He brought a hand to your head, softly caressing your hair.
You pulled yourself away from his hold, propped yourself up on an elbow, and looked him right in the eyes. “Chris…Why didn’t you tell me you had imprinted on me?”
Chris’ whole body tensed as soon as you asked the question, and you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “How’d you–”
“Seungmin sent me some texts explaining…Please don’t be mad at him, he was just worried about you”, you added that last sentence as soon as you saw Chris’ gaze harden, and he pressed his fingers on his eye sockets, just as he let out a frustrated sigh.
“‘Course Seungmin told you…” He mumbled. When he finally removed his hands from his face, his eyes found yours, looking incredibly vulnerable. “Pretty, listen…”
Chris sat down on the bed, and you followed right after, crossing your legs, and listening intently to what he wanted to say. “I didn’t tell you anything about imprinting in general because I just knew that the second you found out about it you’d know I had imprinted on you. There was just no way for you not to know when it’s so painfully obvious that my feelings for you run much deeper than a regular guy’s would…It’s a lot to take in, and it’s a level of pressure I didn’t want to put on you”.
Taking your hand in his, he gave it a squeeze. “I don’t want you to…feel like you have to stay with me because of all this mystical bullshit inside of me. You should be able to put space between us if you need it, to do things you want to do even if they go against what I say…And, most importantly, you should be able to leave if you ever want to…”
You felt your heart ache with that last statement. Somehow, the thought of leaving him, of truly leaving, was unbearable even to you. Sure, people fell out of love often, it wasn’t like it couldn’t happen, but you figured most people didn’t have a supernatural connection with their partner.
“Baby…” You squeezed Chris’ hand, bringing his attention to your eyes. “These couple of days without you have felt like pure torture. I know it sounds silly, considering one, I was the one who left, and two, we’ve been physically apart for long periods of time several times before, but never after an argument. It’s manageable in normal circumstances, but if we’ve fought, or if we don’t speak, you need to know it’s painful for me, too”.
Chris’ eyes widened, like you were breaking inconceivable news to him. He cupped your cheek with his free hand, keeping you close. “What?”
“I’ve never felt anything like this…Like a piece of me had been ripped out of my body. I didn’t understand why, until I read those texts from Seungmin this morning…” You brought your hand to rest on top of his on your face, licking your lips. “Seems like that mystical bullshit is inside me, too, baby. Which, I suppose, makes sense, if your wolf is somehow connected to me…”
“Shit, pretty, I–” You could see it in his eyes, Christopher’s signature Guilty Look. The one he had whenever he was beating himself up. You truly loved him deeply, but, sometimes, you felt like you wanted to murder him for taking the blame for things that weren’t his fault.
“Nuh-uh”, you cupped his cheeks, squishing them together. “Don’t give me the ‘guilty dog’ eyes. Not with this”.
“But–”
Before he could continue, you moved. Sitting on his lap, still cradling his face in your hands, but with less pressure, you simply looked him in the eyes. “Now, you’re gonna be all like ‘ooohh, I dragged you into this’, ‘ooohh, it’s my fault’, ‘ooohh, I didn’t mean to’. Please don’t do that”.
A pout made its way onto your lips, and you saw Chris’ form relax a bit, just as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“What are you gonna do about it now? Take what’s mine away from me? No way”, you moved your hands from his cheeks to his hair, burying your fingers in the soft strands, holding him tightly. “The universe has made you for me, too, babe. I wholeheartedly believe this is a mutual thing”.
Chris looked at you for a brief moment, taking you in. His eyes jumped all over your face, and, in an instant, he was scoffing, and a bright smile spread on his lips. “God, I truly am so fucked. So sickly in love with you, baby. You shouldn’t have said that, I’m gonna be even more insufferable after this”.
“I wouldn’t have you any other way”, you mumbled, right before you pulled him in for a kiss.
Chris just hugged you tighter, and he dropped back on the bed, bringing you down with him, giggling. You just giggled in response, kissing him as many times as you could, relishing his warmth, his presence, and his love.
After a while, when your fit of giggles died down, when you were just cuddling again, holding each other close, Chris tensed under you. “Shouldn’t we take Joaquín on a walk?” His eyes widened, and he suddenly held your waist tightly. “Shit, baby, do you think your mum came back?”
You just hummed, bracing yourself on his chest to sit on his lap. “Let’s hope she didn’t. Not like I particularly care, but if she did come back already, she probably heard you railing me. There is just no way she didn’t. You almost made a hole on the wall with how much this bed was moving”.
“Oh my God…” Chris groaned, covering his face in his hands, and you smiled as you saw his ears grow red. “I can’t believe I let you seduce me!”
“Oh, please. As if you needed me to do anything for you to feel seduced”, you laughed, pulling his hands away from his face, uncovering his flushed cheeks and the pout on his lips.
You tried your best to kiss that pout off of his face, but he was still grumbling, grumpy at the thought that he’d somehow disrespected your mother’s home. Whatever that meant.
“C’mon, baby”, you said eventually, pressing one last, loud kiss on his lips. “Let’s find out if you’re working yourself up over nothing, or if death by embarrassment is a real thing”.
Chris sighed, but he followed you when you stood up from the bed to get dressed, practically holding his breath in anticipation when you finally opened the door to leave your room.
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General Masterlist Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments:  It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.
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nottyourlover · 1 year
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Broken Bonds - ch 1.
a/n: hopefully a series :)))) stay with me for the start here okay guys good things come to those who wait 🤡
summary: as azriel leaves for a long mission in vallahan, you find that clinging onto old bonds does nothing to heal them.
warnings: reader's pregnant, falling out of love, angst. dark mental health themes.
word count: 1594.
pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // epilogue?
***
The Night Court was abuzz with activity, as preparations for Azriel's departure on a long mission to Vallahan were underway. The news had come suddenly, leaving everyone scrambling to get everything in order. Azriel was to leave in two days' time, and the thought of being apart from him for so long was almost too much to bear. You had begged and pleaded with Rhys to not let Azriel go, delay the mission, shorten the mission, anything. Obviously, he did not budge on the decision, but you could imagine the strain on a High Lord that war would bring, especially since he also had Nyx now. Ultimately, you did know the importance of his mission. Mor had returned to Velaris as the Night Court Emissary to Vallahan, but she needed backup and Azriel's skillset along with his ability to fly was perfect. He had left for many dangerous missions in the past, but when you had asked Rhys about the duration of this one, you were shocked to hear him say "A year? Maybe two".
Your child would be born before your mate returned.
>>>
You and Azriel had been drifting apart for a while, the once intense passion between you now replaced by a strained silence. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when things had started to change, but you both knew that something was different. Maybe it was your last wedding anniversary, when you had fought over not seeing each other for months due to clashing hours, but that was years ago. A century was a long time to spend in a romantic relationship with just one person, let alone almost two centuries.
You had learned that you were 3 weeks pregnant, a fact that you had been keeping hidden from Azriel for fear of driving him even further away. When Madja had come to heal one of Cassian's injuries that had knocked him unconscious, she had asked to have a word with you afterwards.
"You're with child, y/n," Madja said, smiling as she pulled you into a private room.
"I'm pregnant?" you were in complete disbelief. You and Az had barely even seen each other lately because you were either asleep when he got home, or the other way around. Your immediate thought was to run to Azriel, hug him, kiss him, congratulate him. He was going to be a father. You were going to be parents!
Then you remembered. You two were barely speaking now. A few days ago, there was a disagreement over a dinner date that Azriel was almost two hours late to, and when he finally came, he seemed distracted and uninterested. You had only just started your entrées when Rhys burst into the restaurant with some urgent news, drawing Azriel away and leaving you to eat alone.
"Yes, y/n. Oh, I'm ecstatic for you!" Madja wrapped her delicate arms around your shoulders, but you were frozen. There was nothing worse than not being able to talk to the one you longed for the most.
After your experience with Madja, the only person who really noticed was Feyre, who had asked you what the matter was immediately, and yet again when you refused your favourite tarts. After you told her everything, she had immediately asked Helion to travel to Velaris and help mask your new scent so no one would find out about your pregnancy until you told them. The thought of bringing a child into a war-torn world with parents whose relationship was already on such shaky ground made you feel sick with worry.
However, despite the tension between you, Azriel was still the only person you wanted to be with. You were mates after all, and husband and wife too. You couldn't imagine a life without him, even if it seemed like that was where you were headed. Growing up in the Illyrian camps, books were scarce, but stories traveled by word of mouth. You had heard about the beauty of mating bonds, the love, the desire these couples had, but also the sorrow that sometimes broke the same bonds, the disasters, the catastrophes. They said losing your mate was like losing yourself.
So as you watched him pack his bags, you couldn't help but feel a sense of despair wash over you. The future felt uncertain, and you didn't know how things would turn out. Would you end up like one of the females in the legends you heard as a young girl, so broken by the loss of their mate that they died young and unhappy and unfulfilled?
Flashbacks of better times flooded your mind as you watched Azriel move about the room. The way his eyes would light up when he saw you, the way he would wrap his arms around you and hold you close. It all seemed so distant now. Your afternoons reading by the fire, training together, heavy breathing but content as you walked up the House of Wind's stairs together, just talking and laughing. You remembered the moments where your relationship was new, so fragile you hadn't dared to tell anyone, the two of you sneaking off for just a moment of alone time.
You remembered the day you were mated, oh, how happy and in love you both were. The world had seemed so full of possibility then, and you had both believed that your happiness would last forever. Azriel's whispered promises still echoed against your skin, the memory of where he first murmured them, when your bodies were entwined, and your hearts were beating in sync, was still strong. Back then, the mating bond between you was like a beacon, guiding you to a happier future. You both deserved a better future... Now though? It was dull.
Things had changed. Azriel was leaving for a mission that could potentially be dangerous, last for years, and you were one month pregnant with a child that you didn't know if you could raise on your own.
On the morning of his departure, you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. You fell into Azriel's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He instinctively wrapped himself around you, shielding the both of you with his wings.
"I don't want you to go," you whispered through your tears. You could hear his heart beating through his armor, comforting and steady, so familiar.
"I know, y/n. I'm sorry," he kissed your forehead and your skin tingled. "I have to though," Azriel replied softly, regretfully, his arms tightening around you. "I don't want to leave either."
You murmured inaudibly, sniffing.
"This mission is important," he continued, hands circling your back soothingly. "We need the Queen of Vallahan to sign the peace treaty as soon as possible."
"But what about us?" you asked suddenly, looking up at him. Were you selfish? Your world on the brink of war and you were worried about your love life?
"What of our relationship?"
Azriel's expression was pained as he looked down at you. "I don't know," he said honestly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Things have been difficult between us, and I don't know how to fix them."
You wanted to tell him about the baby, to beg him to stay with you and start a family.
"As many little ones as you want, love," Azriel had once replied, smiling at you lovingly. You were sitting on the kitchen counter happily, his oversized shirt falling off your shoulders. He had kissed your left shoulder, exactly on your scar, your skin tingling. He pulled the shirt back up but this had only led to the other side falling down more, causing him to smirk a little as he adjusted it, lest you accidentally show more skin than intended if someone made the unfortunate decision to walk into the kitchen that morning.
"But my dear mate, I want what you want," you had replied, smiling, reaching for his hands to kiss their scars.
As you opened your mouth, the words wouldn't come because you knew deep down that it wouldn't change anything. You were a little selfish, but not ignorant nor sabotaging. Prythian would need all the allies it could get, and you were hopeful that with Azriel's persuasion, Vallahan's queen would finally sign.
You slowly pulled away from Azriel, wiping your tears. His eyes softened to an expression almost recognisable. An expression that almost reminded you of your past. Almost.
"I love you, y/n," Azriel said after a while. You smiled sadly, reaching for his hands to kiss their scars like you used to do.
"I love you too, Azriel," you replied, the dull bond in your mind slowly reigniting. Azriel gave you a kiss, longer than all the ones you had shared in the many months of your previous rough patches, and for those few wonderful seconds you felt the spark again, almost like new. He rested his forehead against yours, whispering, "I'll be safe, I promise". The two of you stayed like that for a while before you heard Rhys calling him and the noisy flap of wings from just outside your balcony window.
With one last glance at you, Azriel turned his back with his belongings, pausing at the window when,
"Don't forget me," you called, half-smiling.
"I couldn't if I tried," Azriel replied, before soaring into the sky.
You heard his powerful wings thumping as he soared from the balcony, away from his mate and away from his future child.
As you placed your hand on your stomach, you thought to yourself that maybe things would work out, maybe there was still a chance for you and Azriel to be happy together.
It seemed that only time would tell.
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kookslastbutton · 1 year
Text
Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) I ch. VII
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✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.
Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader
AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 6,656
Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), cute date on the back of jk's car trunk, jk nervous, jk gives lots of gifts & flowers to oc, oc is obsessed with clearance chocolate, auntie oc and uncle kook take care of yoongi's twins, jk & oc become guinea pigs for yoongi's kids lmao, mention of dentist!yoongi, jk's mommy issues get mentioned, jk has personal daddy issues but he working through them, jk being good hubby to oc, just a rollercoaster of emotions ngl
Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+
A/N: Hello! thanks for being patient with me guys!! Important: the flashback for this chapter follows events of chapter V and will refer to it. And yes it's thier first date! Kind of 👀👀 that will be for you to decide. Then we have present day jk and oc being guinea pigs for Yoongi's crazy twins hehehe. Ok pls, enjoy 💞
<< ch. VI ༓ ch. VIII >> ┃series masterlist
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You know how some couples have multiple weddings that lead to disagreements over their real anniversary date? Or maybe it’ll be when the relationship was made official or what the first sign of attraction was? Yeah, that’s you and Jungkook when it comes to pinpointing exactly when your first date was.
If you ask your husband, he’ll tell you it was weeks after you were discharged from the hospital during your postgrad studies. But in your opinion, it was far before his timeframe.
You see due to a group of overly eager college freshmen, you had sprained your ankle and cracked a rib. Jungkook stayed with you the entire first two weeks of the recovery period. He'd bring study notes to you, your favorite food, hell even art supplies he bummed off Taehyung to help break up your mundane days in the hospital.
When the time finally came that you were well enough to finish the healing process at home, he suggested a dinner out would be an excellent way to celebrate.
"...do you wanna go out to dinner?" Jungkook pops the question more causal than expected.
"Are you asking me on a date…?"
His reply is barely audible but you hear it and for the first time, your professor sounds truly timid. "Uh, well…let's go with hang out like friends do."
You’re convinced that this was the first time he asked you out, thus leading to your first date. Your husband, however, thinks it was too vague to tell. He prefers to see it as more a pre-date instead.
So, was it a date?
Was it an unspoken pre-date?
The jury’s still out about this one.
4 years ago
It’s a gorgeous day with the way the sun beams on the hood of his car. A few scattered clouds, fluffy and white, float across the sky as well, offering shelter from the heat. You were discharged from the hospital only yesterday and Jungkook was already insistent on going out today, saying that a little fresh air and a change of scenery would be good for you.
“Where are we going?” You turn your head from the passenger window to look at the man inquisitively. It’s a simple question but the tension of the unknown nibbles at you from inside.
“One of my favorite spots,” Jungkook replies with his eyes set on the road. “Hope you don’t mind the drive. It’ll be another fifteen minutes.”
“It's fine. Why can’t I know where we’re going though?”
He hesitates to answer. “Do you not like surprises?”
You shrug. “Sure I do, as long as I know about them ahead of time.”
A hearty laugh follows your words and it sends one of the warmest feelings through your whole body. You didn't think you were being funny, but after being stuck in the hospital for two weeks, it's nice to feel something other than dismal. Jungkook is good at lifting your spirits at the most unexpected of times, you hum to yourself.
He looks handsome today too.
You can’t stop yourself from thinking about it as you watch a few strands of his dark hair blow over. He has his window cracked to let in a gentle breeze and though it causes him trouble here and there, he remains mostly unbothered.
The oversized white T-shirt he chose to wear is something you're still taking time to adjust to. Much more casual compared to what he wears during his lectures. But you like it with the loose-fitting pants he's paired it with.
"If it's necessary for you to know where we're going then I guess I have no choice." Jungkook looks in your direction but your gaze lingers down his torso. "__."
"Yes?" You immediately blink up at him, hoping you don’t look too flushed. Once he directs his attention back to the road you'll make sure to check yourself in the side-view mirror. Using your phone camera might look a little too obvious.
"I was saying if you need to know where we're going I'll tell you," he repeats. "But if it's possible I'd really like for it to be a secret until we get there."
"Alright," you concede. "I guess I could stand the wait this one time. This is your only freebie though. No more surprises after this."
"No more checking me out," he mutters.
"What?"
"Nothing."
.
"Can I open my eyes yet?"
"No." Jungkook opens his door and hops out of the car. "I'll be right back."
"Wait where are you going?" You know he wants whatever this is to be a surprise but you've been told to keep your eyes shut for the last five minutes. You're a little nervous to say the least, especially if he's about to disappear somewhere. "Jungkook?"
No response.
"Hello? Jungkook?" You're tempted to open your eyes when you hear the trunk of his car suddenly pop open. Several rustling noises follow as he digs around. "What are you doing back there?"
"You'll see soon. I'm almost done so just sit tight for a moment." He unzips a bag and then pushes said bag around the floorboard. The sound of something crashing on the ground perks up your ears in the moments following, earning a tiny 'shit' from Jungkook.
"Everything alright?" You're seriously getting antsy now.
When Jungkook swings your door open, a cool breeze hits your legs. "All good __. But now, I'm going to need you to trust me because I'm going to help you out of the car."
What?
"Um, I do have crutches I can use you know. You don't have to carry me anywhere like before. Dr. Kim said I should–"
"You won't need them this time. We're not going far okay?" He ducks his head inside and guides your arms around his neck. "Can you scoot forward a little?"
You do as he says until he tells you to stop. And with one arm supporting your lower back and the other firm under your legs, you're lifted out of your seat.
"Okay." The ground underneath his feet crunches as he straightens himself back up and out of the vehicle. "Now you can open your eyes."
As soon as you do your jaw drops.
"Surprise!"
Jungkook watches your stunned face as you take in all of Seoul from your perched position.
"I hope you don't mind that I didn't take us to a traditional restaurant. This is an overlook I happened to stumble on years ago when I first moved here. Not many people know about it because it's kind of off the beaten track but I get a bit adventurous sometimes."
He carries you around to the back of the car.
"Since you're still recovering I won't make us sit on the ground but I brought food that we can eat in the back of my trunk. There's a pillow there you can lean against too. And I made sure to park at an angle so we can watch the sunset."
"Wow...Jungkook I don't know what to say."
"It's cheesy isn't it?" His previously eager tone drops and you can't help but feel a pulling at your heartstrings. "I'm sorry if this isn't your thing. I probably should have asked."
"I love cheesy." You crack a small smile and Jungkook breaks out into a grin again, causing both of you have butterflies in your stomachs. "You're very thoughtful for doing this. I'm sorry about my initial reaction. I'm just shocked."
"Well, we're friends now, aren't we? You should get used to this kind of stuff from now on." He walks up to the trunk and carefully sets you down. "Here, lean back." He fluffs the pillow and then gestures for you to lay back.
Once you're comfortable, he hops in next to you and grabs the baby blue gift bag from the corner of the trunk. You don't know how you missed it before given its size and very decorative packaging.
"Before I give you this to you please know that I don't expect anything back okay?" His hands are shaky as he holds the bag on his lap. "This is just something I wanted to give you after your injury and having to be in the hospital for so long."
You nod your head in understanding but are not fully convinced. "And you're giving this to me as a friend, yes?" You take the bag from him and slowly open it.
"Mhm."
You narrow your eyes at him before reaching into the bag. You take out a very large, sturdy box. "God, Jungkook. This is so heavy. What's in here?" You tear apart the wrapping paper and open the smooth lid. "Oh my god, you didn't?!"
They're chocolates from the dessert shop you told him about last Sunday night. You had mentioned it in passing because you were craving sweets but not in the slightest did you think he'd take it to heart. The shop was at least an hour's drive away.
"Don't worry." He sees the pressure creeping on your face. "I was going that direction anyway. But I saw it on my way back and was reminded that you were craving it the other night. Uhm, there's also a coupon in there too. They included that in the purchase."
"Jungkook....you really didn't need to do any of this for me." You grab the small card laying at the bottom of the bag that reads 20% off. "Thank you so much."
"Oh, I almost forgot!" You're taken aback when he jumps off the trunk to scurry to the backseat. He returns in mere seconds with a generous bouquet of pink and purple hydrangeas. "These are for you too."
You shriek and grab them out of his hand, feeling a little giddy. Hydrangeas are your absolute favorites. "Sorry, that was really rude of me. These are so beautiful, though. Thank you. I don't know what to say."
Jungkook sits back down and pulls forward a freezer bag. "Seeing you this excited is enough. I brought us a lot of food too so, we should probably eat it before it starts going bad. This bag can only do so much preserving." He digs out box after box of yummy food from fresh strawberries to sushi. There are drinks too; banana milk and soju.
Your stomach growls as you watch him set the food between you both.
"Well, don't be shy." He hands you a plate with chopsticks. "Dig in."
.
"You look very pretty in that blouse..." He stabs his straw into his milk and takes a large sip. "The color really suits you."
"Oh, thank you." You manage the words once you swallow the strawberry you're eating. "Yours too."
Jungkook combs through his hair with his fingers. "Thanks, this t-shirt really brings out my eyes don't you think?" You laugh and shove his shoulder lightly.
"Stop, I'm being serious. I don't see you in this type of style often. It looks good."
He gives a playful shake of his head. "Where did you get that shirt anyway?" He gestures at your top again.
"At a store," you reply dumbly. "It was on sale. Gotta love a good deal right?"
"Yeah, absolutely. Never pay full price."
"That's exactly what I try telling my roommate. She only buys the best of the best but I think she could get the same thing 50% off if she waited long enough."
"You know Taehyung's the same way. Nothing but luxury from head to toe. I'm surprised he paints in a basic t-shirt and jeans some days."
You chuckle, feeling the air light and fresh. "Painting gets messy so it's better you not wear your best and brightest clothes. Sometimes I'll just wear a giant t-shirt that already has paint stains and nothing el–"
Shit.
You cringe at how quickly you can run your mouth. Jungkook doesn't need to know your painting attire evident from his sudden frozen up form.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it."
"I'm embarrassed."
"Don't be. I've heard worse." Jungkook clears his throat and looks out to the view in front of you. "This really is a beautiful spot is it not?"
Thank you for the deflection, you silently say to him.
"Yes, it's the best view I've seen in my life. I can't believe you found this place. It's like seeing everything for the first time again."
.
"__."
"Hm?"
"Is it weird that I–" He stops mid-sentence, hands rubbing his thigh. "Is it weird that I brought you here?"
"Of c–"
"No wait, wait that's not what I wanted to ask." He runs his fingers through his hair again, doing his best to keep eye contact. "What would you say if someone were to ask you out?"
You relax into a tight-lipped smile and quirk your head to a slight angle. "I'd probably say no because I'm on a date with you right now."
At this Jungkook's milk slips from his hand, spilling on his pants. You grab some napkins next to you and help him wipe the spillage off.
"We're on a date?" He stands the milk upright. "This is a date?"
"Yes, it very obviously is. I don't wear this top for just anyone you know." You close your mouth instantly and sit up straight. "You weren't meant to hear the last part."
"Wait, go back. I thought this was us hanging out. Remember? At the hospital, I said–"
"C'mon the flowers, the specialty chocolates, taking me to one of your secret hideouts. Not to mention packing all this food to share. It is most definitely a date. Do you not want it to be?"
"No! I mean of course, yes. But I would have dressed a lot better." He looks down at himself, embarrassed. "I just threw these on before I left the house."
"And what else would you have worn? I see you in dress shirts and slacks twice a week at the school, if not more."
"Oh, I guess you have a point." He lets out a sigh. "To be honest __. We don't have the most proper relationship for that kind of thing, do we? It's annoying that I keep saying it but I am still your professor until the end of this semester at least. Us dating would be kind of a breach of contract."
"So you won't call this a date because you think it's forbidden?" You cross your arms.
"Well not entirely. It's just...I'm scared. There it is. And if we plan to do any sneaking around business I need to know you...shit, this is going to sound so middle school of me...I need to know you're interested in me __."
"For fucksake Jungkook, I wouldn't have agreed to come if I wasn't interested." You move closer to his side so you're inches from his face. "You're the kindest person I've ever known and I'd like to know you more like you've been doing for me the past two weeks. You've gone out of your way so many times for me that I seriously can't keep up. And while I can't say that I'm in love with you since it's much too soon, I've become very attracted to you. It just sucks we're in a bit of an odd position with school and all. But we can make this work. I'm also in post-grad so I don't think we're doing anything that risky."
"What about Taehyung?"
"That's all you got out of what I just said?"
"Sorry, I'm just asking because you seemed into him at the art exhibit. You're both artistic after all." He fiddles with his fingers. "I'm just the guy who you got stuck with this year because you couldn't major in art."
You feel compelled to take one of his restless hands in your own, so you do–holding it loosely.
"Kim Taehyung was simply a visual interest," you say. "I never thought about anything serious with him. He's also faculty so unless he saves my life or something, I'm not really considering anything beyond a friendly report."
A moment of silence is exchanged as Jungkook lets your response sink in. And as long as your eyes aren't fooling you, you'd say he's more than pleased with it.
"So...you really wanna do this?" Jungkook asks with more anticipation than nervousness this time.
"Yes." You nod.
"Wow, okay um, well when do you want to go out?" He kicks his feet back and forth. And when he reflexively squeezes your hand you can't help but grin at his eagerness. "I'm free every weekend if that works for you."
"We should probably get to the end of this date first Dr. Jeon."
"Nooo, I like Jungkook. Can we stay with Jungkook when it's just you and me? Also, this isn't a date. We need a do-over."
You laugh, seeing a new side of him. He's more, hm, whiny than you thought–it's cute.
"Jungkook, we don't need a do-over. This can be a date if we want it to be. It's got all the elements already. Look." You lift his hand in yours. "We're already holding hands.
"Nope. When are you free?"
"How about this coming Friday after 4pm? Is that too far out?"
He shakes his head fervently. "It works perfectly for me. Let's do 4:01pm." Your baffled expression causes his own eyebrows to knit together. "What? You can't do 4:01?"
"I–yeah sure I can but I didn't expect you to suggest a time so soon."
"Well, you said you'd be free after 4pm right?"
You nod.
"Then it's a date!"
He smiles wide and you do the same.
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Present
"Kook, grab us a cart. You won't believe what's on sale!" You stuff about five gold-foiled boxes under your arm. The yellow tag next to the price says 75% off which means you are for sure buying at least ten of these.
It's times like these that your husband enjoys watching you most. You can barely reach the self where the clearance chocolate is, nevertheless, you're on your tip-toes with arms fully extended above your head to grab at every box of sweets you can.
His inner hero wants to help but he's learned early on not to get in the middle of you and your favorite snack. It's better he listens to your request to get a cart instead.
"Don't hurt yourself in the five minutes I'm gone okay honey?"
"Mhm," you mumble, not really paying attention. "Kook this chocolate has caramel and orange inside. Oh my god, look." You show him a box of chocolates with cherry filling. "These are to die for. I need like six of these."
"Here give me some of those." Jungkook takes the boxes of chocolates from your arm when he sees them slipping from your hold. "I'll put these in a cart while you keep digging. But if someone else comes along, let them have at least one this time."
He knows how much of a little hog you can get with your candy.
"Are you kidding? Finders keepers." You reach for another box, the ones in the back are always the best.
"__."
"What? I'm doing all the hard work here which means I get to keep all the chocolate."
"Fine, fine. Be sure to check the expiration date too." Jungkook turns around to stalk toward the front of the store. If he doesn't get his butt to a cart soon, his wife is going to turn into a grizzly bear.
A very cute grizzly bear.
But a grizzly bear nonetheless.
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"Did we really need thirty boxes of these?" Jungkook dumps the grocery bags on your kitchen counter. "I love you but this is insane. Who's going to eat all of this chocolate?"
"Well, I was planning on sending the twins home with some." You rummage through the bag then move to stack them in the pantry. "They'll be here in an hour so it can be a surprise from us."
"Yoongi's twins? You're going to send the two children whose father is a dentist a whopping bag of chocolate?" Jungkook hands you another box to put in the pantry. The little assembly line works well when putting groceries away.
"I'm only giving them one box okay? So Yoongi can shove it."
You hear a snickering behind you.
"Honey don't push the man who could likely yank all your teeth out of your head and end with, 'will that be all?'"
You roll your eyes. "Yoongi doesn't scare me like he scares you. But if you're so worried I will get his permission ahead of time."
Jungkook's mouth opens in response until he feels a slight vibration in his pant pocket. When he takes it out to check his initial good mood drops about ten degrees.
"Kook?" You watch as he reads whatever it is on his phone.
"Nothing." He switches off the device and places it face-down on the counter. "It's just dad."
"Something about your mom I'm presuming?"
Being Saturday, it's been a few days since Jungkook had his fallout with his mother. They were originally planning to stay in town until Friday but left Thursday morning instead due to Mrs. Jeon feeling "unwanted".
Your husband's been in close contact with his father ever since.
"Yeah," Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh. "She's journaling again apparently. It's what she does to cope with frustrations like me."
"I'm sorry Kook." You rub his arm soothingly. "Maybe she needs some time to think about everything that's happened. I know you want her to talk to you but maybe it's not all bad that she's jotting things down first."
"Yeah, maybe." He takes your hand and presses a light kiss against the back of your knuckles. "It's whatever though, Mom can have her fit. I'm not going to let her ruin one of the only free days I get with my wife."
You smile and quickly peck his soft lips–something Jungkook wishes would be longer.
"Love you," you say and return to your original task of putting groceries away.
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 "Listen to me you two gremlins," Yoongi says on a bent knee. "Eomma and I will be back by 8pm. Until then your uncle Jungkook and Aunt __ are in charge. You know the rules, no jumping around on the sofas, don't into Aunt __'s paints, stay out of Uncle Jungkook's office, and under no condition are you to get into sweets."
He flicks his eyes to you for a brief moment then sets them back on the two seven-year-old girls in front of him. They look adorable with their matching space buns.
"But Appa–"
"No Eun-ji."
"Can't I just have one? Pleaseee?" She stares up at Yoongi with large eyes, hands clasped together. His second daughter Ari quickly does the same.
"We promise we'll brush our teeth right after."
Yoongi's face remains unmoved at his twin's relentless need for chocolate. Sure, he may be the one more likely to cave to requests when it comes between him and his wife but sweets were definitely off the table. His girls just got their teeth cleaned a couple days ago too, cavity-free, and he intends to keep it that way.
"Did you even bring your toothbrushes?" He knows for a fact they did not being that they weren't staying the night.
The twins exchange looks before breaking into a goofy grin. Mrs. Min leans down next to her husband at the moment and draws her girls into a hug.
"Appa and I will bring you back something better than chocolate tonight, okay?" She kisses her daughter's cheeks and then stands up. "Be good."
"K..." The twins let out a small huff then turn to set their backpacks on the living room couch.
"Hey," Yoongi calls after them. "Where's my hug?"
You let out a snort when you see Eun-ji face her dad again, tongue sticking out. Her sister gives a similar attitude with her hands on her hips and scrunched-up face. These girls might be in elementary school now but boy, those teenage years are sure to be rocking.
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"Turn." You hear Ari from across the living room. She's standing on the sofa with her small hands holding a chunk of your husband's hair.
"Like this?"
"No the other side."
With his legs crossed on the floor, Jungkook shifts his head toward your direction with widened eyes. At this point, most of his hair has been pulled back into tight braids and finished off with yellow and pink hair clips. The only section left to do now was the underside.
"How do I look?" he asks you.
"Oh, you look breathtaking honey." You feel a soft makeup brush swipe across your cheek, courtesy of Eun-ji who's decided you needed a 'makeover'. You're not sure if that means a seven year old cramped on your style or what, but either way, you're getting bronze cheeks and glittery eyeshadow.
It's only been half an hour and the twins were already making you and your husband do their utmost bidding.
"Ari honey," you coo. "You should become a hairstylist when you grow up. You're doing such a good job with Uncle Jungkook's hair."
"I know," she sasses. "I'm good at this stuff Auntie. Everyone says that I am the queen of doing hair."
You and Jungkook giggle from the small child's gumption. It's good she's confident, you mouth to your husband.
He nods back. "Eun-ji's doing a great job too. You should see the glitter she's chosen for you."
"Not yet Uncle Jungkook," Eun-ji pipes up. "She can't look yet. It's a surprise!"
"Ah okay." He throws you playful eyes, eyebrows bouncing up and down suggestively. "A surprise huh?"
You flutter your eyes closed when you see Eun-ji dab her palette and reach forward to paint the eyeshadow over your lids. "Yup." she nods her head. "I'm giving Auntie the best color ever."
"Wow I can't wait to see honey," you say. "This wouldn't happen to be your favorite color would it?"
The tease in your tone makes Eun-ji grin. Of course, you can't see it but Jungkook can and it causes him to break out into a boisterous chuckle.
"You're so cute Eun-ji," he says, clapping his hands together.
"What about me?" It's Ari's sassiness making a comeback as she pushes the final yellow clip into Jungkook's hair.
"You're cute too Ari." You reassure the child and open your lids once Eun-ji gives you the okay. Not a second following that you're thrusted forward a hand-held mirror.
"What do you think?"
You glance at yourself in the reflection, blush blue eyeshadow that covers up to your eyebrows and bronze blush. You have ruby red lipstick on as well, Eun-ji's personal favorite.
"I love it, sweetheart. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome." She gathers all the makeup containers and tools she can fit in her hands before making her way to your husband. "You're turn Jungkook."
"Okay, but can I pick what color this time?" Your husband smiles at the child with mirthful eyes.
"No." She sets the make-up in front of him and pops open a bright, Barbie pink lipstick.
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"Anti-ti-ti-ti fragile, fragile!"
You watch from the kitchen as the twins jump around in the living room. After your makeover, the girls felt like a karaoke session was in order. They convinced Jungkook to join them so there he is with a microphone in his hand, belting the lyric of 'Antifragile' by LE SSERAFIM.
"Come on __!" Ari calls to you, breath heavy from all the rambunctious dancing. "Sing with us!"
You laugh and whisk the bowl of flour and sugar in front of you. "No you guys keep going. I'm a little busy at the moment."
"Doing what?" She runs up to the kitchen island where you stand, trying to peek inside the bowl.
"I'm making cookies."
"Really?" She rushes to the other side of the island to pull out the stool from underneath. Once she settles herself in the chair she looks at you with eagerness. "Can we eat them?"
"Hmm..." You pretend to think. "Didn't your dad tell you no?"
"Yeah, but you always give us sweets. Even if he says we can't have them."
The child has a point.
"How about this, if you help me make these you can eat them. But you can't tell your dad okay?" Ari nods. "Good, you can stir this for me while I crack some eggs."
"Just what are you doing?" You jump when Jungkook walks up behind you. "You wouldn't be giving these sweet girls something their parents told them they could have, would you?"
"Dad will be really mad if he finds out," Eun-ji joins in on the scolding. She turns down the music from the tv and folds her arms.
"Well I–"
"If you're going behind Yoongi hyung's back you're going to need some help, honey." Jungkook slides one of the kitchen draws open and reaches to take out a small plastic bag. He throws out two brand new kid-size toothbrushes, orange and blue. "Had a feeling we'd need these tonight after seeing you stock up on all that chocolate today."
"Now girls..." He turns to look at Ari and Eun-ji who seem to be busy mixing the bowl of flour and sugar together. "Hey girls."
They lift their heads.
"Make sure to brush twice before your dad gets back. This stays our little secret, understand?"
"Okay," they say in unison.
"Thank you Kook." You lean your head against your husband's firm chest, resting for a moment. This whole situation is kind of funny if you think about it. But you really hope you don't get beef from Yoongi later.
"Anything for you," Jungkook quips and kisses your head gently.
"Ew..." You hear Ari say.
"No it's not," Eun-ji bites back. "It's romantic, like the movies."
Ari scrunches her face at her sister. "No it's not."
"Yes it is."
"Nope."
You and Jungkook wait for the two of them to simmer down but they keep going at it. Yes, no, yes, no...back and forth until one of them scoops up a handful of the flour in the bowl and tosses it at the other.
"Uh okay, no more! No more." You and Jungkook lunge forward to sweep the bowl out of their reach.
"How about you let Auntie and Uncle finish making the cookies and you two go back to karaoke?" Jungkook successfully persuades the twins and they run back into the living room in search of the next biggest hit to jam to.
You lock eyes with Jungkook now, wordless.
"Hm?" He hums at you.
"Mm." You shrug your shoulders and move towards the fridge but not before you're flicked with some of the flour yourself–your husband's hand powdery from the mixture. "Kook!"
You wipe your face, and light laughs fall from both your lips.
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"Okay girls, get brushing!" Jungkook guides the twins to the bathroom. "Your parents are going to be home in fifteen minutes and that means these teeth need to smell like nothing my fresh mint." He squeezes the toothpaste on each girl's brush.
"Bursh, brush, brush," he chants and you shake your head as you wash the cookie sheet in the kitchen sink.
The twins have eaten about three cookies each and with chocolate stains all over their faces, they're going to need more than a 2-minute teeth brushing.
"Honey, I'm cracking the windows open and lighting my candles." Jungkook rushes around the house in search of his vanilla bean scents.
"I don't think that's going to take away the smell in such a short time. We should probably just take the beating Kook," you holler back.
"Oh, we're definitely getting dragged out tonight." He yanks the candle jars open and lights them. "The smell of freshly baked cookies is still too strong to hide but I'm hoping these candles will act as a distraction."
You hit your husband with the kitchen towel, the snap of it making him throw you a startled look. "Shit–do you not see the lighter in my hand?"
You roll your eyes. "Relax drama queen, you didn't have it ignited yet. Anyway, the candles aren't necessary if we're opening all the windows."
"It'll help though."
"Not really."
"Well, I think they will."
Jungkook goes back to lighting his candles and once he has the twentieth one lit, he's thoroughly pleased with himself.
As soon as the twins finish cleaning themselves up, they help scatters them throughout the house, leaving them in as many corners with surfaces as possible.
"Okay, that's it! That's the last one." Jungkook high-fives the twins and you toss the last dish in the drying rack.
"Good job team." You laugh and join them in the living room.
Eun-ji plops herself on the sofa with her backpack in her lap. "I had a lot of fun tonight."
Ari joins her on the couch with her own backpack in hand. "Me too." She pauses and then says something that you and Jungkook were very much underprepared for.
"You would make good mom and dads."
"You think so?" Jungkook shocks you by responding first.
Ari nods. "If you had kids, we could all play together. And we can have all the cookies we want because we'll be best friends. And best friends share everything!"
"So you want Auntie and I to have kids so you can keep hiding cookies from your dad?" Jungkook lunges forward to tickle the child mercilessly. "You little cookie monster!"
Ari rolls around on the couch, giggling repeatedly. You can't help but feel the thumping of your heart as you watch the scene unfold. And for the slightest moment, you imagine what it would be like with your own child.
All those thoughts are put to an abrupt end however when the doorbell rings.
Jungkook flies to the door to let Yoongi and his wife in. He flashes you a little smile before opening it, ensuring you that whatever happens he's got your back.
"Were you guys baking in here?" Are Yoongi's first words as he and the Mrs step inside the entryway of your house.
"Um, no? No, I don't think so." Jungkook feigns ignorance. "It must be coming from our neighbor's house."
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With the twins home with their parents, you and Jungkook curl up together in your bed. You nuzzle your head in his inner shoulder and his arm holds around your waist.
"Those girls are a lot," Jungkook says. "But you know, I have to agree with them this time–it was kinda fun."
"Yeah?" You aimlessly trace circles on his chest.
"Still crazy, but yeah. I felt like I had a lot of good energy inside me tonight. And you know something else?" He looks down at you.
"What?"
"We'd make pretty damn good parents."
You bolt up from your reclined position the second the words drop.
"You can't keep doing this to me Jungkook," you say, your hands gripping the soft comforter. This isn't the first time he's teased you with having a baby and every time he does, you don't know what to take it as.
Is it a joke, is he serious, or just talking?
"You know how I feel and–"
"Hey." Your husband leans up to stroke your back with warm hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry honey. I don't mean to confuse you. I really am thinking about it you know? With everything that's been going on with my parents lately, I know I've been hard to pin down but I really am serious when I say we'd make good parents. Or when I say we might have a possible baby to make one day."
"Might. Could make. Maybe." You stare straight at your husband. "I know you're warming up the idea but you're still talking in such vague terms. I'm not at all trying to rush us to decide on a baby or not. But I just don't want to get a false sense of hope...that you'll say yes."
"Come here." He draws you into an embrace and kisses your cheeks, both of them. "I'm sorry for being an idiot. I admit the first few times I was more loose with what I was saying than I should have been. But I swear I, it was never my intention to be leaving you guessing. I'm so sorry."
"I just want to know what you really think Kook. So I can be sure where you're at through this whole thing. The last few days have thrown a wrench at us with all the stuff your mom's been doing. But I'd still like to be in the loop of things."
"Yes, of course. I'm going to tell you everything right now okay?" Jungkook takes a breath. "I want to give you a baby so bad and I think I'm 70 percent there. But I'm also 60% not there because I'm terribly scared that once it happens, once we have a baby...that I'll revert back to my original mindset of not wanting one."
"Kook–"
"Hold on a second."
You close your mouth and allow him to continue.
"I've already started seeing and feeling being around kids differently than before. So much so that I think we could be happy if we started a family together because I'm so happy when I'm with you. And if there's anyone I could do that with, it'd be you and only you. So yes, I want us to have a baby, as many as you want, but I want to be 100% there first."
"Okay, that's fair. I'm not going to lie that I don't feel a little out of body from what you just said. Just to clarify, you're saying yes to how many babies?" You shine your eyes at him. "You said you want to give me as many babies as I want right? How many would that be?"
"My limit is yet to be determined." He grins at you. "It seems I might need to repeat some things if all you got out of what I just said is that I'll give you as many babies as you want."
"No, actually." You grip his hand. "I heard what you said and thank you. I feel a lot better knowing your thought process through this whole thing. We both need to be 100 % in before deciding on this next step in our lives. And about you being worried that you'll revert back to not wanting children. I'm no expert but I don't think that'll be true given your recent exposure with kids has made you feel better than worse. You said it yourself–you had a lot of good energy inside you tonight."
"True. You make an excellent point there. I think I still need some more time though. I was even thinking that maybe I'll....talk to Hoseok about this."
"I'm glad to hear that Kook. Hoseok is an amazing man and I know talking to him about all this will be nothing but beneficial for you."
"Thank you for being patient with me." Jungkook pulls you both down on the mattress, closing his eyes when his head hits the pillow.
"Same to you." You snuggle back into his chest. "I really hope we can have a family together."
"Me too," you hear him mumble before you close your own eyes.
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A/N: Yup I told you this would be a long one. Ty for sticking with me! Also, what do you think? Was it a first date or not? LMK your thoughts 🥰
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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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deceptive-daydreams · 8 months
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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |
Smoke Signals
Chapter Thirteen - Yours
W/C: 5K
Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader
"To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it."
Sweet Nothing - T.S.
A/N: so i think this fic will probably come to and end soon, not really sure but ITS SO BITTER SWEET
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“Aliens aren’t real!”  A young boy, maybe eight years old shouts at Eddie, swiping the little action figure Eddie had placed on top of his toy fire truck, sending flying a few feet away.
“And you know that how?”  Eddie argues, arms crossed over his chest.  His dark gray knit sweater sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, a telltale sign of how heated the argument had become.  He sits on the floor, criss cross while a little girl sits behind him on the couch, her tiny fingers combing through his chocolate curls.
Sometime in between you offering to help dish up dessert and freshening up in the bathroom, Eddie seemed to have made a few new friends, quite the opposite of what you were expecting out of tonight.
“Clippy!”  The little girl demands, holding her hand out.  
Eddie’s eyes widened as if to recall he had a certain task that he’d abandoned, snatching up a tiny sparkly blue butterfly clip from the fibers of the carpet and holding it out in the palm of his hand.  Within seconds, the left side of his bangs are clipped away from his face.
“Cause they’re not!”  The boy shakes his head.
“Why?”  Eddie prods.
You can’t fight your grin, big bad Eddie decked out in tattoos fully engaged in a disagreement with an eight year old had you internally squealing.  You’d never been met with such a sight, such contrast as Eddie’s large hand held out yet another clip, a pink one this time.
“Cause.”
“Why.” 
“Just cause.”
“That’s not a reason!  Give me my guy back!”  Eddie attempts to reach for the little figurine across the carpet only for the little girl to protest, a whine stopping him from moving any further.  “Sorry, sorry.”  He surrenders, falling back into his original position.
“You messed it up!”  She begins to wail.
It’s evident you need to take the initiative, poor Eddie’s face contorting in horror as he squeezes his eyes shut.  Without another second wasted, you plop down next to her on the couch just above Eddie, greeting her gently.
“Hi, is this the salon?  I was told you do the best hair in town.”  You smile.  “May I make an appointment?”
Her big eyes take you in, scanning you up and down before realizing you’d only wanted to play.  A half done braid in one of Eddie’s strands of hair sits at the back of his head, one that seemed to fall apart in Eddie’s attempt to collect the little alien.  The girl, nodding shyly, starts to point toward the predicament she’s in.  
“Oh no!”  You sigh, placing your hands in your lap as if nothing could be done to aid in correcting the braid.
“Fix it, fix it.”  Eddie mutters under his breath, his hand covering his mouth to muffle his voice.
“Can I?”  You ask the girl, gesturing to her little toy hairbrush.
With a petite nod, she allows you to take the brush from her little hands as you begin to work it through the loose hairs that had come out of the braid.  
“You can be a firefighter.”  The little boy insists as he hands Eddie a new toy, an obvious scoff coming from the man.
“What’s your name?”  You ask the girl, ignoring him.
“Grace.”
“Grace?  That’s a pretty name.”  You begin to pinch the strands back together, braiding them.
Eddie’s thankful that his thoughts don’t project on the wall because in all honesty, he wants to throw himself out the window.  Not once had he ever desired having a kid.  Was this baby fever?  
In an instant those thoughts escaped his mind when you secured the little braid and began scraping your nails at the back of his head, combing through his tangled curls.  His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his skull, he could practically purr and was tempted to just curl up in your lap.  With a full belly and head scratches, he figures he can die happy.
“Are you sleeping?”  You snort, leaning forward only to catch a glimpse of his blissed out face.
”No.”
”Yes!”  The little boy chimes in.  
“Was not!”  Eddie argues, straightening himself up.  
The boy raises a brow at you, Grace happily twisting strands of Eddie’s hair together.  This felt like home.  This felt like the warm apple pie nestled in your stomach embodied as an emotion, gooeyness seeping from your raised cheeks and crinkled eyes.
Stolen glances at the dinner table just shy of a half an hour ago and brief touches of fingertips as you passed various dishes had warmth radiating throughout your body.  Home was starting to feel more like a person than a place.  Home had started to feel a lot like a person for a while now if only you had been more attentive to the fact sooner.  
Tiny smiles from a tough metal head only encouraged you to rest a delicate hand on his knee whenever possible throughout dinner.  Among all the chatter and friendly bickering, a silent conversation had been happening, an audience oblivious to the behind the scenes of the main attraction: a turkey big enough to nearly splinter the table.  A calloused thumb had grazed over the top of your hand, the touch enough to heat your cheeks and pull the corners of your mouth into a permanent grin.
His dimples took residence on his face the entire time, a shyness to him whenever you took the leap to intertwine your fingers together underneath the table.  A closeness only the two of you were aware of.  A gesture not too big, but not at all taken for granted as he returned an affectionate squeeze.
And when all was said and done, dinner had been devoured, dessert enjoyed, tiny gestures continued to bombard his and your heart the same.  Like an unspoken love war, who could offer the best token of their affections? 
Once Eddie was in the clear with Grace, you’d been able to steer him off to the kitchen, now completely void of busy bodies and full of empty plates and dirty dishes.  Your intent was to drop off your wine glass, and Eddie to discard his beer bottle.  Laughter rang throughout the house, something about a few of the adults playing drunk Twister.  It was lost on you, a large hand splayed out on your waist and pulling you toward Eddie’s warm body obliterating any other thoughts you had.
A buzzed haze lingered in both your stares, heavy eyes taking each other in.  The kitchen was dim, lights shut off for the time being as everyone ignored the ginormous mess awaiting them, only the light leaking in from the living room illuminating a fraction of the room.
”Hi.”  A whispered greeting, softly, for your ears only.
“Hi.”  You whisper back, a gentle finger tucking a rogue curl behind his ear, hot to the touch whether it be from the nerves or the alcohol you weren’t sure though you had a suspicion that it was both.
Your cold hand rests against his stubbly cheek, his eyes fluttering shut at the touch.  Your other hand trails up to rest flat against his chest, body heat radiating from him.  Anyone could walk in and spot you two at any second.  But neither seems to care.  
“You’re beautiful.”  He gulps, not enough beer in the world could aid him in having the confidence to tell you though he went for it anyway, humiliation could be confronted later.
He thanks whatever higher power is looking out for him that your eyes grow larger and twinkle in a way he’d now spend forever attempting to replicate.  A bashful smile parts your lips, your gaze shying away from him momentarily. 
His shy girl.
Several glasses of wine couldn't even hide the sheepish aura taking control of you.  Fragile fingers toyed with the neckline of his sweater, fidgeting with the chain around his neck.  A distraction from the flustering words.
”Yeah?”  You ask, small and sincere.
So small and sincere, he wonders how often you’d been made aware of your beauty.  So small and sincere, it’s like you almost didn’t believe him.  If that were the case, he’d kick the stupid butterflies in his stomach to the curb, suck it up, and tell you every chance he got.  
“Yeah.”  He tells you with a nod, waddling the both of you back and forth to the music drifting in from the living room record player, Can’t Help Falling in Love, Elvis.  “You’re beautiful.”  He repeats, his forehead now resting against yours.
He doesn’t know if his advances are correct.  Doesn’t have the experience of another woman’s touch to provide him the checks and balances.  But he figures that if he was wrong in his movements and words, you would’ve given him the hint by now.  
“And you’re handsome.”  Your lips hover just barely over his, nose nudging into his cheek endearingly, a sultry tone to your hushed voice that nearly makes him melt.
He had never been called handsome before, not in the tender way you were uttering it to him.  Sure, girls had attempted to lure him in for some free weed, never genuine and only for their own personal gain.  You never asked anything of him other than earlier when you’d asked him to stay.  Just to stay.  That was it.  And he couldn’t fathom it.
”Yeah?”  He mimics you from earlier, a genuine question falling from his mouth against your top lip.
Your answer doesn’t come in the form of words but in the seal of a kiss, a promise against plush, slightly chapped skin.  A statement.  A devotion.  
I am yours, I hope you’ll be mine.
Noses smash together as your lips mold to his, his hands coming up to cup your face with anxious hands.  Similarly, yours reach up to rest against his cheeks, one hand working on its own accord to tuck itself into his hair, thumb brushing over his ear to fidget with the little silver hoop dangling from his ear lobe.  Rather than ignore the shiver it sends up his spine, he embraces it, stroking his thumbs along the highest points of your cheeks.  His rounded nose nuzzles into yours, lips parting from each other slightly, the tiniest strand of saliva hanging from either end.  Suddenly, you feel the pad of his thumb brush against your bottom lip, tugging it ever so gently with crinkly eyes and a toothy grin.  His answer.  His own devotion to you.
I have been yours all along.
“You’re biting me.”  You laugh, a bit too obnoxiously for your own liking.  
Eddie’s canine grazes your top lip, teeth clashing against yours.  His determination was endearing though you were hoping to keep your lips intact and your tooth unchipped.  A breathy laugh against your cheek sends shivers through your body, his voice dripping in honey, more so than you’d previously heard.  A side of him that not another soul had been granted access.
“Sorry.”  
Endless giggles–yes, giggles-fall from his lips against your skin, his forehead bumping against your temple, hands fiddling with the hem of your sweater.  You start to wonder how anyone could see him as anything but gentle.  Anything but sweet.  
The truck was cold enough that you saw your breath in the air, a warning that you should head inside though you couldn’t find it in you to part from him.  Invite him in, you found that little voice in your head saying.  But you didn’t want to push.  Despite the front he could put on he was delicate, you could see it in his eyes.  Chocolatey pools of vulnerability that had previously been stone cold but slowly melted for you.
“Slower.”  A whispered instruction, your hand cradling his jaw as you hover your lips just above his.  “Softer.”  You playfully nip at his bottom lip, plump and kissable.  
He offers a hesitant kiss, lips gently brushing over yours before pulling away.  
“Like that?”  It’s barely a whisper.  A kind of anxious fear falling out of his brain and into the air, a thought he didn’t mean to put so much emotion behind.
“More.”  Your lips meet his again, encouraging him.  “Like you need it.”
A large hand rests at your waist, nearly pulling you into his lap though the steering wheel prevents him from doing so.  Instead he dives into you, nose smashing into yours, eyelashes fluttering against your skin as eager lips work themselves against you.
“Mhm.”  You mumble, nodding, motivating him.  “Just like that.”  You gasp, unable to get another syllable in before his tongue interrupts you.
Teaching Eddie the basics of how to make out wasn’t something you had envisioned when fantasizing about him previously.  But it was so much better than anything your mind could’ve conjured up.  It was endearing, the way he was so hesitant, so unsure, as if you weren’t ready to pounce into his lap hours ago.  As if you hadn’t been glancing his way all evening, flirtation twinkling in your eyes and necessity for his touch obvious in the way that you would graze him any chance you could.
“Like that?”  He repeats, excitement leaking in his question whether he knew it or not.
He was a quick learner, leveling up from awkward and uncertain to velvety smooth and confident in his movements.  The more you egged him on, the more greedy he became, holding your face in his hands, tongue exploring against yours, lips finding a rhythm as they smeared your lipgloss.  He was covered in it, some lingering on the tip of his nose and when you attempted to wipe it off he was kissing you again.
“Just like that.”  You practically whine into his mouth.
Weeks passed by, a quiet romance blossoming with each and every interaction.  Within those weeks, there were stolen kisses at the bar on smoke breaks and in passing.  You didn’t mind the tobacco on Eddie’s breath though you still encouraged him to quit.  It more so bothered you that he was increasing his chances of his health deteriorating.
“So everyone can blame you when I get grumpy if I quit?”  Eddie grinned, dimples deep in his cheeks.
”You’re already grumpy.  Even after your smoke breaks.”  You giggle.
The Bourbon was doing well enough, the evening rush not quite arriving yet as the remaining beams of sunlight set behind the horizon at a premature five o’ clock.  Happy Hour had officially started though the blanket of snow coating the town fended off some regulars as they opted for the comfort of their own homes, almost like hibernating animals.
”Is that so?”  Eddie chuckles.
The tiny hallway just outside the office was secluded from any view from the rest of the bar.  Especially the corner he was backing you into.  Slowly, as if you were prey, he stalked toward you, caging you in with his arms.  You couldn’t help but admire the lean muscle as it tensed against the wall next to you.
”Mhm.”  You hum.  “So if you think about it, you’ll be grumpy either way so you might as well—“
You weren’t prepared for his lips to smash against yours so suddenly, his tongue grazing your bottom lip before pulling away.  A smile hid behind his eyes, his teeth sinking into his lip as he tilted your chin with his index finger.  
God, was he fucked.
“You really want me to quit?”  He asks, drowning in your eyes.
He’d do it for you. Only for you.  Anyone else could ask him and he’d tell them to fuck off then and there.  But you had him wrapped around your finger.  Where he once didn’t care about anyone else’s opinion, he cared about yours, he deeply cared about yours.
”Well I-I just-I think—“
”Tell me.  Tell me you want me to quit.”  Eddie demands, encouraging you to stand your ground, be firm with him.
”Well, only if you want to.”  You say quietly, your gaze nearly forcing him to his knees.
”My shy girl.” He whispers, tracing his knuckles against your cheekbone.
You made it so easy to go soft.  So easy to submit to.  Yes, he was the more dominant one by definition but he kneeled to you in every instance.  It took him a while to realize it but it was so obvious now.  Eddie was coming to find that when he fell, he fell hard.  Faceplanted.  
“Yours?”  You question.  Nothing had been established yet though you both had a pretty good idea where the other stood.  
“If you want.”  He uses your words against you, smirking.
You’d pin the mental polaroids you’d been taking of his dopey face on that ever growing wall in your brain forever.  Frame them, even.  Put them on display like a museum.  They were precious, untouchable.  No one could taint them, not on your account.
”Yeah.”  You nod, a breathy sigh escaping your lungs.  Solace washes over you, like your heart had just realized it had found a long lost piece of itself.  And it whispers:  Oh.  There you are.    “Yeah.”
And immediately your lips are on his again, a craving for nicotine kisses that drove you crazy.  Then, a muttered promise against you had your head spinning.
”’M gonna quit.  Just be patient with me.”  
“Always.”
One of the new hires, Rex, had interrupted, shouting from around the corner that there was a “Code Vomit” near the bar.  It didn’t spoil the lovesickness that poured from your mouth into his, only forced you into desperation as you chased his lips.  Eddie’s eyes rolled, the scent of your perfume much more preferable to the puke out on the floor.
Later you talked him down, insisting that the new hires didn’t need to “earn” their status though Eddie thoroughly disagreed.  You suppose he had a bias, being pulled away from you mid-makeout surely increasing his grumpy mood.
“They’re fine, they can deal with a little puke.”  His hands dramatically gesture toward the office door, shutting you both in and shielding you from wandering eyes.  
“Just because you put me through trials and tribulations doesn’t mean we need to continue the tradition with them.”  
“Oh–I did not–”  Eddie scoffs.
“You did.”  You grace him with a smirk.  
“Bambi.” 
“Eddie.”  You sing his name.
For a silent moment, he stares.  His stares had become increasingly softer, his rough edges fading away anytime you were in his presence.  And you knew he surrendered before even saying another word.
“Forgive me?”  A hopeful question as he steps forward, looping a finger in one of your belt loops, tugging you toward his chest.
“Hm.”  You hum in thought, eyes fixing themselves on the ceiling rather than his large, intriguing eyes.
“Hm?”  He hums back, an inquiry.
“I dunno.”  
You were playing games, the kind of games he was unfamiliar with.  A territory he’d only recently stepped into, a flirtatious bantering that had his heart fluttering, aching because it had never been used to this kind of attention.  The muscle had never been exercised, never prepared for this kind of thing.  
“Tables are filling up, need another set of hands!”  Jett bangs a fist on the door, not lingering for any longer than he has to as he continues managing the sudden rush.
“Yeah, yeah.”  Eddie calls back.  
“How can I make it up to you?”  He tilts his head, his tone quieter in contrast.
Rather than supply him with an answer, a delicate hand cups his jaw, a slow yet passionate kiss pressed to his lips as he gladly reciprocates.  His hold tightens on your waist, pulling you even closer if possible.  
“You’re forgiven.”  You whisper, twirling one of his curls with your finger.  
You leave him in his office, pretending to ignore the rock hard bulge in his jeans.  It’s not until around ten minutes later that he shuffles awkwardly into the bar and you’re sure you’re the only one who catches the little kick he does as he finishes adjusting himself.  
The phone call comes unexpectedly.  Wayne only calls on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.  8:00 AM.  Three times a week, a well polished routine.  It was Thursday night.  9:00 PM.
Eddie had stared at the phone, hearts taking the shape of his pupils at the prospect of it being you on the other end.  Another routine he’d been carefully trying to curate, every other night risking his integrity just to hear your voice.  Stupid, he knows.  With you just a few yards away in your own home, he may as well just show up on your porch but this…this was comfortable.  He didn’t have to fear not touching you enough or overstepping.  It was only your soft tone, his hushed responses, and the evening out of breaths between two half asleep souls.  You hadn’t chanced calling him first, not yet.  There was a mutual understanding that this was all unscathed territory, your knowledge of Eddie’s past confirming that moving too fast would only scare him off like a spooked horse.  
He was grateful for your everlasting patience though he didn’t know how to navigate telling you that you could call him any time, night or day, and he would gladly pick up.  He wouldn’t mind your voice lulling him to sleep, and welcomed the idea of his ears perking up, his body reacting to your voice like he just had a shot of espresso should you call him first thing in the morning.  Yes, he wanted to take it slow, wanted to respect the boundaries around his heart he’d spent so long putting up.  But he also didn’t have the patience you yielded and often found himself wanting to take a hammer to any walls he still had up.
Wayne’s usually gruff voice surrendered to a more calming tone, one that Eddie hadn’t really ever heard or cared to remember hearing since Mama had passed.  No, he hadn’t heard this frequency of gentle words since that one night, he was six and his only worry should’ve been his spelling test the following morning.  Unfortunately his worries far exceeded that of a first grade spelling list he had practiced with Wayne and Mama all week.  
His uncle's breathing wavered, a nervousness about him that had Eddie paralyzed with his palm beginning to sweat against the plastic of the phone.  He could nearly picture the way the older man’s calloused hand would rub over his scruff, his head shaking as he searched for words.  Eddie couldn’t anticipate what kind of news was about to break.  Was Wayne sick?  How long did he have?  How was he going to get him to agree to move out with him so he could take care of him?  Was Wayne even allowed to move in with him, did Eddie’s government contracts allow for that?  He hadn’t bothered to search that far into it initially seeing as his uncle was stubborn and thought it best to let Eddie take the reins on his life after everything went down.  Let him do what he always said he wanted to do, get out of Shit-Hole-Small-Town-Hawkins.  He had Grandpa Roy anyhow, waiting on the other end of everything to support Eddie, he didn’t need Wayne anymore.  
Eddie told himself as such, too, so he could get out of his old man’s hair, let him live his life without supporting some kid he never asked for.  He knew he loved him unconditionally but he owed him that much.
Thousands upon millions of thoughts engulfed Eddie’s brain, everything that could go wrong, that other shoe was about to drop, it had to be, Christmas was just around the corner and it wouldn’t be a true Munson holiday without something going wrong.  It’s why he didn’t celebrate anymore.
“Kid, I gotta tell you somethin’,”  Wayne warned his nephew.  “It’s about your dad.”
Eddie blurted out every possible scenario the second he was mentioned.  Every plausible reason.  It had been years, maybe over six?  He hadn’t spoken to or heard from his dad in around six years although there was no telling if he had tried through the means of Wayne and his uncle had never relayed his messages.  For good reason.
“He got caught up again and needs a place to crash.”
“He needs money.”
“A getaway driver.”
“An accomplice he can screw over when it all goes to shit.”
”Just say it, he needs his fuckin’ son to help him out of some shit and he’s got no one else to turn to.  That’s it isn’t it?”
Venom lingered on Eddie’s tongue, he wondered why the man didn’t just call him himself, though Eddie would hang up at the first trace of his voice.  At least then though, his dad would’ve been man enough to seek him out on his own this time.  At least then, it would’ve shown he tried to track Eddie down; put in some effort.  Eddie didn’t want that…did he?  He hated that man with every ounce of his existence but something about appeasing him always remained deep in his gut.  Like a virus.  
The little boy in him couldn’t let go.
Couldn’t let go of the what ifs.  
The daydreams of what could have been.  They poisoned his mind, every now and then reducing him to a ghost of himself.  Eddie wasn’t proud of it, who would be?  Idolizing a man that never existed?  Dad was never one to teach him to play ball or take him on fishing trips, no, he was the man that taught him to hijack cars and talk his way out of trouble.  The kind of trouble that lands you in a cell for a night or two.  The kind of trouble that got him caught in the crossfire of two local gangs and when he turned to his pops for help, he was nowhere to be found.  He was twelve.
He was twelve and was beaten to a pulp in an alley near downtown.  Left to choke on his own blood.  Dad was long gone and the only one he could count on was himself and even then, he feared he would black out before being able to crawl to the nearest payphone.
Wayne picked him up that night, red in the face because of his brother and blue in the eyes for the broken boy in his passenger seat.  if he could die and give Eddie a life worth living a thousand times over he would.  The kid never stood a chance in his brother’s hands and he’d done everything he could to get Eddie out of that godforsaken house that was full of dust bunnies and beer cans but Eddie was hard-headed and always vouched for his deadbeat father.  It’s all he knew.  It’s what he thought love was.
But after that night, Eddie didn’t fight back.  Didn’t refuse going back to the trailer park, his heart still stuck in that stupid house his dad rarely came back to.  Didn’t protest.  He wanted to, god he wanted to but his ribs were so damn bruised that words were impossible to create.
He still craved affection from his father, even when he left him for dead.  Still wanted his approval.  Wanted to ask if he was good enough.  If he had even been the slightest bit proud.  Those conversations never happened.
Wayne cleared his throat in preparation for his next words.  Words that he wasn’t even quite sure how to piece together.  
“Ed, he-“. Wayne stuttered.  “Your dad, he was-he had a run in with the cops.”
Eddie wasn’t sure what his uncle was trying to get at, dad always had run-ins with the cops.  It happened more often than not.  Maybe this time he wasn’t so lucky, maybe this time he got himself thrown in jail for good.  
“Figures.  What does he want, bail money?”  Eddie spat.
Rage clouded his vision, how much audacity did his dad have?  Did he really think Eddie would bail him out after the last incident?  Perhaps the last incident had been a tad more tame than others, Eddie made it out in one piece, conscious and not too badly bruised.  What made it different though: pieces of Mama had been destroyed, burnt to a crisp.  And that in of itself severed the remaining tie.  Burned the entire bridge.
“He’s gone.”
Eddie let the words bounce around in his brain briefly.  Gone?
”What, so, he fled the country?”  He asks.
Wayne sighs, keeping Eddie on edge, making him wonder what was so damn different this time that had the old man delaying his words.  His uncle was not one to sugar coat things.
”He was shot, Ed.”  Wayne says quietly, almost with regret.  Regret for the small boy he knows still resides within Eddie.
Eddie’s breathing comes to a halt, stalls in his lungs.  It couldn’t be.  The devil himself couldn’t be dead, he had to be immortal, always lingering somewhere awaiting Eddie’s everlasting loyalty.  Why did he feel sad?  Why did the tears well up in his eyes for a man who never shed a tear for him?
”He’s—he’s—dead?”  Eddie whispers the word, the reality of everything sinking in far too quickly.
Time freezes and he is a boy, sharing a frozen dinner with the man who promised and promised and never delivered.  He is just a boy and he is looking at that man with stars in his innocent eyes, devoting every hope and dream to the life they would one day have, the life pops told him stories of.  He was just a boy.
”Look, son—“
”I have to—I’m sorry.”  Eddie sniffles before dropping the phone back down, burying his reddening face into his shaking hands.
He surrenders his body, sliding down toward the crumby kitchen floor and bringing his knees toward his chest in an effort to disappear.  His cheeks wet and body trembling with sobs, he can't help but ask himself, why?  
Why do I care so much?
Why am I sad?
Why does grief feel so wrong?
~end~
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writersdrug · 1 year
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Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 2)
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Summary: You and Ghost argue every single day. Things aren't getting better. You're over it and wish Ghost would stop. But he makes a point to fight with you every time you're in his line of sight. Even when you try let it go, he doesn't. And you've had enough.
Chapter warnings: Cursing, VERY small mentions of consensual torture (like for one sentence).
Notes: Two chapters in one day? Maybe?? Don't expect it too often, but I'll finish this one I promise!!
Two months had passed, and the days dragged on mercilessly. The swelling in Ghost’s eye had disappeared after the first week. The depression had passed after the first month, now replaced with anger and hatred. Ghost and I had gone from awkward silence, to irritated glances, to going to extreme lengths to avoid each other, and finally, to having full blown arguments. At first, in a semi-private setting, then later, in whatever place we were in when the fight would start. Our teammates were growing concerned and annoyed with the constant tension. Multiple people had suggested we try to be civil and talk things out, and others said we needed to go to therapy. All of them, of course, never let on that they knew this was about something more than a work-related disagreement. They understood exactly why Ghost and I had been fighting.
Ghost and I, on the other hand, believed that we had done a good job at keeping our “situation” a secret.
Morning had come all too soon; I had managed to crawl into bed after another late night of anger and despair; my mind was busy reliving the moments of the argument Ghost and I had, right outside of my dorm. We had shouted like there wasn’t another soul on base, throwing insults and jabs like they were daggers – and they certainly felt like it. Ghost would typically use the “You should have known better” argument, and I took the “If you had a problem, why didn’t you say anything?” route. He called me insane. I called him a hypocrite. The same jumble of expletives until I would finally slam the door in his face and go to bed, a sobbing mess.
I had skimmed the surface of sleep until my alarm buzzed at 5 AM. I let it drone on for a while, staring out my window, watching the sun just barely breaking the surface. It was going to be a dark morning, and a cold day. Luckily, the day’s agenda for the 141 agents was mostly finishing paperwork from the last mission. I went through the motions of showering, getting dressed, putting my hair back… before I knew it, I was standing in front of my door, empty coffee cup in one hand, files and paperwork in the other, ready to start the day, At least, I looked ready. In reality, I felt like I was being held together with paperclips and thread, about to collapse at any second.
I made my way to the mess hall, claiming a seat with some of the female sergeants before heading to the line. My stomach didn’t like the look of the food, so I instead went to grab a cup of coffee. I wasn’t one for coffee, however, I needed it as a replacement for tea. Since Ghost and I had first fought, I refused to drink any sort of tea – I said it was to help me get over him, but I knew I was just being childish.
Haphazardly, I noticed that there were only two tea bags left by the brewing station. For a second, I thought I should just bite the bullet and make tea, since this would probably be all that was left until the following month. Then, a very petty idea came to mind. I casually glanced around the hall – no sign of Ghost. I raised my eyebrows, suspicious at the coincidence of it all. God, this timing is too perfect. I turned back and finished pouring cream in my coffee. Simultaneously, I snagged the teabags and shoved them in my thigh pocket, then walked back to the table like it had never happened.
When people commend me on my stealth, I can’t help but think of how I used it for dumb shit like this.
I sat down next to two of my closest friends, Skyline and Beth (not all of us chose to stick with a callsign, and Beth was one of those people). I sipped my coffee innocently.
“You’ve got a long day today.” Beth said, weighing my paperwork in her hands. “If you’d let the others get a chance at shanking the enemy, you wouldn’t have so much to report.” She plopped the paper back down with a thud.
“I already got started on it last night.” I muttered. My eyes kept flicking back to the entrance of the mess hall, waiting for Ghost. “Besides, keeps me busy.”
Beth looked at me and huffed. She followed my line of sight to the doors, then looked back at me, disappointed. “Really?”
I shrugged. “What?” I said, innocently taking another sip.
“I told you she’d do something.” Skyline piped in, unbothered as she slowly stirred her coffee. “What is it now, huh? D’you take off his door knob?”
I glanced between the two of them with an offended look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Why didn’t I ever think of that before?!
“You have got to let this go.” Beth said exasperated. “This is the most unprofessional I’ve seen you since I met you.”
That one stung. I looked at Beth, narrowing my eyes. “Are you serious- “
“It’s been over two months now. Yes, I’m serious.” Beth rubbed the bridge of her nose, and Skyline hummed in agreement. Beth continued: “You’re both acting so fucking childish. I’m surprised you even managed to get him to stoop to your level here. But it’s not just a problem for the both of you now, everyone has to deal with your shit.”
“I think your bun’s just pulled too tight.” I replied dryly. I was too busy watching Ghost walk in and place his things on the table next to Soap.
“For fuck’s sake, Bonnie – “ Beth stood up and gathered her tray. “We’re just trying to look out for you. Get your shit together.” She stormed off to find a different table, far away from me.
I watched her walk away, suddenly feeling ashamed. She was right, I was being a child. I was stooping lower than I though I ever could.
Skyline clicked her tongue. “You really should get over him.” She piped up. “It’s holding you back, you’re not focused, you look tired and worn out all the time.” She stood and picked up her tray, heading away to follow Beth. “We just don’t want to see you lose everything over some petty mistake.”
Mistake. I was tired of that word. I watched her walk away, anger bubbling in my mind. I looked back at Ghost, who was now standing by the coffee station, glancing around for the last tea bags. I sighed. Let’s get this over with.
I got up and walked over to him, fishing the tea bags from my pocket. I slapped them down on the counter in front of Ghost. “Figured you need these more than I do.”
Ghost stared at the bags for a long second, then looked sharply at me. His gaze was always intense behind the mask (right now, just the balaclava), but now more than ever, they were filled with hatred.
I shrugged. “I decided on coffee.” I answered his unspoken question.
I left Ghost at the brew station, exiting the mess hall and making quick strides towards my room. I knew the look on his face meant trouble, and I didn’t want to deal with his bullshit. For the first time in a while, I wanted the arguing and face-offs to be over. Beth’s words struck a chord with me, making me realize how much time I was wasting fighting with Ghost. Deep down, I wanted it to end, so I could go back to being the best stealth expert on the team. I had become so distracted and irritable over the past several months, and it was finally crashing down on me.
If I had felt hungry before going to the mess hall, it had faded since then. I just wanted to finish my paperwork in my dorm, go back to sleep, maybe stand in the shower and think… maybe even apologize to Beth and Skyline, telling them they were right – which would be hard. It took a lot for me to admit I was wrong, even to myself. Especially to myself.
I was angry again. I was tired of being angry. I was tired of getting frustrated, getting into fights, and crying after. I was tired of being tired. It was a workout of it’s own. But there I was, fuming again as I stormed away down the halls, muttering curses to myself.
Cutting my thoughts short, I heard Ghost’s angry voice behind me. “The fuck was that all about?” he yelled.
My eyes rolled so hard they nearly got stuck.
“Are you really going to do this over a couple of teabags??” I said, calling the fight before it had even started. “I don’t want to argue with you, Ghost. I decided not to piss you off today, that’s why I gave them back.”
“No, I’ve had enough of you and you’re selfish fucking attitude.” Ghost trailed behind me, fuming. His steps were heavier than mine and his stride slower, yet he easily kept up with my pace. “Every day it’s something new with you; some stupid fucking reason for you to piss me off, and then you go acting all innocent like nothing happened. I’m fucking tired of it.”
“Then go the fuck to bed and leave me alone.” I retorted. This was what I couldn’t understand. Why does he keep following me every day just to get mad? If he think’s I’m trying to annoy him why doesn’t he just ignore me? Why does he have to yell at me every damn day?
“Oh, real mature, real fucking mature, Bonnie. You haven’t changed one bit, you’re still a bloody prick!”
“And you’re still crawling back for more, huh?!”
“Fuck you!”
“Fuck you!! This is fucking petty, Ghost!!”
“You think I’m being petty?!” he shouted, defensively, following me around a corner. “Fuckin’ take a look at yourself, acting like a child. Can’t be a fucking adult here, you’re just going t’ walk away like nothing happened, huh? You gonna fucking run every time I try and talk to you? You know, that’s real fucking weak of you!!”
Weak. My mind snapped before I knew what was happening.
I grabbed my knife from my belt and spun a full one-eighty, flinging it as hard as I could in Ghost’s direction. It missed his face by a couple of inches before it collided with the cement wall behind him and clattered to the floor. As the clang echoed throughout the hallway, I caught Ghost holding his breath, a shocked look in his eyes. He knew how good my aim was – he had seen it countless times in combat. I never miss my mark. But this time, he wasn’t sure what I had meant to hit.
“Fuck OFF.” I emphasized the words I yelled though the glare I shot him, before finally turning away. The walls on either side of me seemed to close in, and the end of the hall stretched farther and farther away with each step I took. I knew Ghost was still frozen behind me, trying to figure out if I had meant to shank him or if I had intentionally missed him – frankly, I was just as uncertain as he was.
Finally reaching my door, I barreled through it and slammed it behind me. My head was throbbing from the emotions swimming through it. I didn’t want to cry again, I was so goddamn tired of crying. Yet the stinging threat of tears lingered in my eyes all the same. I stood there, fuming, my shoulders heaving from the breaths I sucked in, trying to wash away the red behind my eyelids. It wasn’t enough.
I ripped my shirt over my head and threw it to the ground. I kicked off my shoes, yanked down my pants, and ripped off my underwear as I stumbled to my bathroom. My head was dizzy as I frantically pulled myself into the shower, cranking it on and to the highest setting. Initially, the water hit my skin like shards of ice, making my muscles tense and shake. Slowly, it turned into a cooling rain, then a comforting shower, before it finally burned.
It felt so good. Maybe not good, but it was distracting. The water felt like a million cigarettes being put out against my skin. I remembered how Simon used to do that, once or twice, placing claims on my skin that no one else would see but us. I told him I never wanted them to fade, but they did anyways. I braced my hands against the wall in front of me and hunched my back. My muscles fought against my brain, shaking with the urge to jump back from the water, as my mind forced them to stay locked under it. My scalp screamed under the heat as small, hot streams trickled down my face. It burned. All of it burned, and it felt so good. So numbing.
Eventually, the water cooled off a bit. The base’s water heater was unable to keep up with what I needed. As the searing pain eased off, the emotions came flooding back – now, as despair and confusion. The void in my chest came back, angry and empty as ever. I had nothing to fill it with. I tried folding in on myself, crumpling to the floor, hoping to fill the gap with my own self. But it didn’t work. Nothing ever worked.
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doc-pickles · 8 months
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sent to save me | sidney crosby (ch. 9)
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series masterlist
summary: Sid comes to Annie’s rescue
warnings: mentions vomiting, hospitalization
notes: enjoy!
xoxo
nina
It’s barely 7:30 AM when Sid’s phone starts ringing. He ignores it the first time but when it chimes again he groans as he picks it up.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Sid?”
At the sound of Vivie’s voice on the other line Sid is sitting up and wiping at his eyes. He pulls his phone away and checks that it’s Annie’s number she’s calling from.
“Vivie, why do you have your moms phone? Is everything okay?”
There’s a beat of silence before Vivie answers, “I got up for school but mommy is sick and she said I can’t go to school because she can’t drive me. But it’s Lily's birthday today and she’s bringing cupcakes and I can’t miss that.”
“Okay, I’m on my way Viv. How’s… Is your mom okay?”
“She’s throwing up and her forehead is hot. I checked her tebature just like she does when I’m sick,” Vivie pauses. “Is mommy going to be okay?”
“Of course Vivie,” Sid rushes out. “She’s gonna be fine. I’ll be there in 10 minutes okay?”
“Okay Mr. Sid.”
Sid hangs up and pulls on the first thing he can find before racing downstairs. He’s worried for Vivie and how scared she sounded, but he’s also worried about how sick Annie must be if she can’t even drive Vivie to school.
He hadn’t heard from Annie in three days, not since their fight. Sid had wanted to call her multiple times, to tell her that they could talk things out, but her anger and hurt flashed into his mind every time and he figured it would be best to let her come to him.
By the time he pulls into Annie’s driveway Sid knows he’s broken a few speed limits but he can’t bring himself to care as he bounds up to the front door. He finds it unlocked and Vivie is perched on the couch by the door with her backpack on. Her socks are mismatched and her curls are wild but she seems pretty put together.
“Hey Viv,” Sid kneels down in front of the little girl and cups one of her cheeks. “You okay?”
Vivie nods but Sid can see the tears welling in her eyes. She throws her arms around his neck and he pulls her in close as she cries. The sad little noises break Sidney’s heart as he holds his daughter tight.
“It’s okay, I got you,” Sid whispers the words as he runs a hand through Vivie’s curls. “I got you, don’t worry.”
“Mommy was sick and I was really scared,” Vivie sobs. “I just want her to be okay.”
“Mommy is going to be fine, I promise,” Sid reassures Vivie before pulling back and ruffling her curls. “Can I go check on your mommy before I take you to school?”
With a nod of agreement from Vivie, Sid stands and walks down the hall. It’s eerily silent but he
keeps on as he heads toward Annie’s room. When he pushes open the door she’s not in bed so he continues into the en suite, his heart lurching as he steps in.
“Annie? Hey Anns,” Sid rushes to kneel next to Annie who’s laying on the floor, face pale and unmoving. “Shit… Annie you gotta wake up.”
Annie groans in protest as Sid brushes back her hair, nuzzling her cheek into his hand. He takes it as a good sign that she’s at least somewhat coherent.
“Hey baby, I need you to open your eyes. Can you look at me?” Annie groans again but finally looks up at Sid, his heart rate slowing incrementally as she blinks up at him. “There’s my sweet girl. How are you feeling?”
“Why’re you here,” Annie buries her face in his lap and Sid’s hand instinctively comes up to stroke through her hair. “You’re mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you, we just had a disagreement,” Sid sighs as he looks down at Annie. “I would never leave you stranded when you’re like this.”
“Mmm… Viv… where’s Vivie?”
“She’s fine, I’m more worried about you,” Sid whispers. “How long have you been sick?”
Annie pauses before speaking up again, her voice rough as she looks up at Sid from his lap, “Mmm yesterday? Started after I dropped Vivie off at school. Anna brought her home and I was able to cook dinner but once she went to bed it started up again. I’ve been here since then.”
Sid sighs heavily as Annie closes her eyes again, resting against his thigh. He pulls his phone out and dials Anna, asking if she would come pick up Vivie before school.
With Vivie sorted Sid stands and picks up Annie, depositing her into her bed before going to find Vivie.
“Vivie, Anna and Nikita are going to come and pick you up and I’m going to stay here and take care of your mama,” Sid crouches in front of Vivie and takes her hand. “Is that okay?”
Vivie pouts but nods and throws herself at Sid for another hug. In the few weeks since her birthday Vivie, Sid, and Annie had been spending a lot of time together. He and Vivie had grown closer, especially because of their love of being on the ice. He doesn’t hesitate to hold her close until Anna texts him that she’s outside.
“C’mon Viv,” when Vivie makes no move to get out of his arms Sidney carries her outside. “Look Niki saved you a seat right next to him.”
“Okay… Thank you for taking care of mommy,” Vivie leans up and presses a kiss to Sid’s cheek before pulling back and buckling in.
“Everything okay?” Anna asks after he’s shut the door. “How’s Annie?”
“Not good, but I got her. I might need you to pick Vivie up too,” Sid rubs the back of his neck as he looks at Anna with a sad smile. “I appreciate you coming to get her.”
“Of course, keep me updated.”
Sid shuffles back inside and goes to Annie’s room, finding her sleeping. Sidney comes to sit next to her, his hand floating up to brush away her wayward curls. Annie makes a sound of approval, but doesn’t move.
“I got you, Anns. I’m right here,” Sid whispers, his voice shaky. “I’m not going anywhere.”
+
Annie manages to sleep for almost two hours while Sid cleans the house. He’s just finishing wiping the dining room table when he hears the sound of her retching.
“Hey, it’s okay baby,” Sid rubs Annie’s shoulders, speaking in a quiet voice. “I got you, I’m right here.”
With a stuttering breath Annie settles her head on her hands, a groan leaving her lips, “Sid…”
“I’m here,” Sid supplies quickly. “What do you need?”
“Just you,” Annie groans, head swaying to the side as she attempts to sit up. “Fuck…”
She’s barely sitting up for a few seconds before Annie collapses into Sid’s arms, limp arms falling to her sides.
“Shit Anns, wake up please,” Sid pleads to no avail. “Come on, Annie please.”
Without another option Sid quickly gathers Annie up in his arms and heads out to his car.
“I got you, Annie,” Sid whispers as he holds her close. “I got you.”
+
When Annie awakes it’s not in her bedroom where she fell asleep. The air is cold and smells funny and the bed is uncomfortable. She goes to wipe the sleep from her eyes but feels something tugging at her arm.
“Don’t move too much, you’re okay. Everything’s fine, baby.”
That piques Annie’s interest, her head turning so she can see Sidney in the chair next to her bed. Her hand is firmly grasped in his and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.
“I… What happened?”
“You scared the shit out of me is what happened,” Sid leans up and cups her cheek tenderly, locking eyes with her. “You were sick and then you passed out and I couldn’t get you to come back around.”
“How did you know I was sick?”
Sid smirks, that same smile she’s seen on Vivie a million times, “Viv called me. And I’m glad she did, Anns.”
“But we had a fight,” Annie stutters. “I… Why’d you come still?”
“Annie,” Sid sighs. “I would come no matter what. And yeah we did have a fight but I told you I’d be there for you and I meant it.”
Shutting her eyes again, Annie leans into the warmth of Sidney’s hand pressed to her cheek. She’ll unpack his words later, for now her mind is stuck on Vivie and how she must’ve been so scared. She feels awful for putting her through that. Her face must give her away because Sid is comforting her in seconds.
“Hey none of that. Vivie is fine, okay? I just talked to her and she’s having a great time with Nikita,” Sid whispers as his thumb gently strokes her cheek. Annie relaxes at his words and looks back to him with teary eyes. “No tears, everything is okay.”
A knock on the door interrupts them, both heads turning to see the doctor come in, “Glad to see you’re awake Ms. Wright, you were really out of it.”
Annie blushes but lets the doctor continue, “Do you want to speak in private or…?”
Looking to Sid for only a second, Annie shakes her head and turns back to the doctor, “He’s fine, he can stay.”
“Well you were severely dehydrated, which is probably why you passed out. But we’ve given you a lot of fluids and an anti nausea medication that should help. I want you to continue on the medication for the next few months so this doesn’t become a common occurrence, especially since you’ll need to keep your fluid and food intake up to keep gaining weight.”
“Gaining weight?” Annie laughs nervously, Sid's hand squeezing hers. “Why would I need to gain weight?”
“Well you’ll already be gaining weight from the baby but we want you to be able to keep yourself and them healthy.”
Annie is frozen as she stares at the doctor, eyes wide and heart palpitating as she takes in her words. The doctor must notice and take pity on her, checking her chart quickly, “You do know you’re pregnant right? About 12 weeks, but we can do an ultrasound to confirm if you’d like.”
Pregnant.
The overwhelming urge to vomit overtakes Annie and before she can move Sid has a basin in front of her. Her chest burns as nothing but water comes up, gasping breaths leaving her as she tries to calm down.
“Breathe Annie, you’re okay,” Sid calmly reassures her, a steadying hand on her back. “Deep breaths.”
She can barely make out the doctor saying she would be back in a little bit as she brings her hands up to her face and presses her palms into her eyes.
A baby. God Annie doesn’t know if she can handle another pregnancy alone, not to mention raising two kids by herself. A small cry leaves her throat before a hand settles on her arm.
“Anns,” Sidney whispers and its gentle enough to coax Annie to bring her hands away from her face. “Hey, it’s okay.
“No it’s not! I can’t raise two kids by myself,” Annie sniffles and wipes at her face. “I can’t do this!”
There’s a long and slow pause before Sid speaks up, “Even though it’s not my baby I’ll still be here for you Annie.”
Annie pauses, looking over at Sidney with a puzzled expression, “What?”
“I was serious when I said I wanted to be there for you and Vivie,” Sid stares up at her with teary eyes and grabs her hand again. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
“Sidney,” Annie whispers as they meet eyes. “The baby’s yours. There’s no one else.”
Wide hazel eyes stare back at her and Annie could almost laugh if she wasn’t on the verge of crying, “I- but… You said you were going to have to do everything by yourself. I thought…”
“Because I always do, it's always just been me. Anyways, it’s fine,” Annie brushes Sid off. “You’re going to take the job with the Penguins. I can handle this.”
“If you think I’m going to miss another one of my kids lives you’re wrong,” Sid leans up and presses his forehead against hers. “I’m not leaving you, I’m going to be right by your side for everything. You and Vivie and this baby… You’re all I need, all I want. Fuck hockey, fuck the job offer. I’m not losing you again.”
A choked sob leaves Annie as Sidney pulls her into his chest. His warmth is comforting and for the first time in a long time she feels herself relax, clinging to Sid tightly.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I was so mean to you. I didn’t mean any of it,” she cries as she presses her face to Sid’s chest, all of her unspoken worries spilling out. “I know you won't leave us. I’m sorry, please don’t leave.”
“I’m not leaving, I swear,” Sid whispers as he holds her. “I’m not going anywhere Annie.”
+
“Mommy!”
Vivie’s excited squeal sounds through the house as soon as Annie and Sid step through the front door of Annie’s house. Sid steps in front of Annie to catch Vivie as she barrels towards her mom.
“Your mommy is very excited to see you Viv but she’s also really fragile right now, so we have to be gentle,” Sid meets Vivie’s eyes and gives her a serious look which she returns with a nod. He gives her a quick hug before setting her down and letting her give Annie a hug.
“I missed you so much my baby,” Annie’s voice cracks as she holds Vivienne close. “Have you been good for Anna and Geno?”
Vivie nods but doesn’t say anything as she clings to Annie. Sid gives Annie a smile before wandering into the kitchen, giving the mother and daughter some space.
“Sid, everything okay?” Geno asks as he pulls Sid in for a hug. “How’s Annie?”
“Good, doing a lot better,” Sid rubs the back of his neck as he glances back toward the entrance where Vivie and Annie still are. “Just some really bad morning sickness.”
Geno’s brows shoot up as he looks at Sid who’s blushing under his gaze, “Yours?”
A nod is all Geno needs to be pulling Sid back into a hug, congratulating him on their new addition. Sid says hello to Nikita but both he and Geno are out the door after a few minutes.
When he returns to the living room, Annie and Vivie are curled up on the couch together with a movie playing. Annie catches his eye and motions for Sid to join them.
“Mr. Sid we’re watching mommy’s favorite movie,” Vivie exclaims, doing her best not to jostle Annie as she points to the screen where The Sound of Music has started. “It’s a super long movie so you better get comfy.”
With a chuckle Sid takes the spot next to Annie who immediately snuggles closer to him. With Annie curled up in his lap and Vivie next to her he feels at peace. His hand gently drifts toward Annie’s stomach, fingers brushing over where their baby rests. The motion has her moving closer to him, her hand pressing into his chest.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Annie whispers.
“No where else I would rather be.”
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afyrian · 6 months
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ch. one - deep blue memories masterlist
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    "today, we're separating into your usual groups and you'll take turns examining each of the specimens. your goal is to figure out what's ailing them and how you would solve the issue. there will be multiple answers for some of them, so don't be worried if there's disagreement within your groups," your professor stands in front of you, a thick notebook settling into your arm, small marks forming on your skin. 
  you've done this more than once before, but with it being your final year in the program, there's even more pressure to perform. you peak over at the turtle habitat, the beautiful colors on its shell catching your eye. the professor then steps off to the side, "group one, you're with the dolphin. group two, you're checking out the sea turtle. group three with the octopus and group four with the squids."
  the number two always seemed to be your good luck number, because the sea turtle was ultimately what you wanted. you find your way through the group to your closest comrade, atsumu miya. knowing him through high school would have never made you think that he'd go into marine biology. his love for volleyball seemed as though it would last through college, but now he stands beside you, watching a turtle. 
  his enthusiasm, however, carried over and now it's all he can talk about. truthfully, you enjoy watching him smile as you compare homework answers. "so, initial thoughts?" you stare down at the turtle, watching as it turns around in the small enclosure. 
  brown and beige colors intertwine along the turtle's shell. the length appears a little over a meter long, the length and appearance of the shell leading you to believe it's a green sea turtle. "well, green sea turtle for starters-"
  "yes... what else?"
  "if you would so kindly let me finish, i was going to say, it looks like there's something on its fin," atsumu raises an eyebrow, leaning against the railing of the enclosure. 
  a couple of your other teammates mutter in agreement, one of them mentioning how it looks tumorous. your eyes narrow as you stare down the spot, fingers just barely dipping into the water. the cool temperature grasping at your fingers remind you of a simpler time. baby sea turtles struggling to make their way through the sand. 
  seagulls picking at them as they form lines in the sand, your fingers grappling at them to help them to the water. 'honey, you have to let them take the journey on their own. you can guide them, but you can't just drop them in the water,' your mom kneels beside you, lowering her sunglasses to meet your eyes.
  she grabs a hold of your hand, leading you to swat away any birds that come close, waiting until they're just barely in the water. her hands moving yours into the cool ocean water, draping the baby turtles with a little freshness-
  "you okay? you've been staring off into the distance as i monologued on how i would solve this mystery," he turns his body towards yours, watching as your fingers wade through the water, eyes focused on the growth.
  you look back him, eyes flickering back to the turtle in front of you. there was always something interesting about the ocean, something that intrigued you about life within the water. "yeah, just cycling my mind through the different things that cause growths on green sea turtles. there's always fibropap... what is the full name of it?"
  "oh what is that, fibropapilla?" atsumu narrows his eyes, pursing his lips as the gears turn.
  "fibropapillomatosis... it's a tumor-causing disease," a voice pipes up, one that sounds unfamiliar to you.
  everyone in your class has been going through the program for years together, making it hard to not know a member. especially when you look up and find that there's something truly unforgettable about the nearby individual. his dull blue eyes appears similar to that of the ocean as you venture deeper in the water. 
  he stands a couple of feet behind you, his clothes matching that of an employee. "it can be found in all green sea turtle species. while there aren't currently treatments available for it, we can try to remove it in the hopes that it'll help," the mysterious man takes a step towards the tub, arms wrapped around a clipboard. 
  despite his apparent knowledge of the turtles, it's clear that he doesn't want to get close to the water, for unknown reasons. "right, you're totally right. we'd have to test and see, but yeah. uh, are you a new transfer student?" you furrow your eyebrows, clean hand scratching at your jaw line.
  "no, just visiting," his gaze meets yours, and the longer you stare into his eyes, the longer you want to drown in them. 
  "well, thanks for the help, visitor," atsumu comments, hands resting on his hips, biceps just barely flexing as he stares down the mystery guest.
  you look back at your closest confidant, eyebrows raised. while atsumu can be a little hostile around new people, you couldn't help but feel a little annoyed at how he immediately chooses passive aggressiveness. he looks back at you and shrugs, eyes flickering between you and the visitor.  
  the visitor swallows, clearly a little bit more nervous at atsumu's actions. before you can read the little name tag that is written on his lanyard, he's turning around, moving to the next group. he walks around a bit awkwardly. it seems as though he has a limp or something that affects his walking abilities. 
  you turn back to atsumu, pursing your lips. "i get you have that intuition thing going for you, but you just met the guy. come on," you lightly slap his upper arm, shoulders dropping.
  "something just seems off about the guy, that's all."
  "just be a bit nicer, especially if he is going to be here for a bit. for all we know he could be finding people for an internship or a job once we graduate. don't ruin your chances if that's the case," you push your finger into the upper part of his chest, bringing your hand back to cross your arms over your chest.
  atsumu raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. "alright, just don't let his good looks blind you from your studies..."
  "oh you're ridiculous," you look back at where he stood; however, he seemingly disappeared from the other group. 
  for a second, a part of you longs to know where he's run off to. however, you quickly turn back to your own group and remember what you were doing in the first place. fibropapillomatosis... such an interesting term.
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a/n: ahhh i hope people like this first one! taglist: @zombriesworld
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