#has to get worse before it gets better 🥰

[onlyswan]

summary: in which for you, jungkook would commit crimes and his mother would peel oranges.

idol!jk x reader | fluff, angst | word count: 9.5k

warnings/content: oc passes out in the shower / jk does something crazy i’m literally insane about this / baby bam cameo 🥺 / stitches >:( / blood draw / mention of speeding / jealous not but rlly jealous oc is pissed owfffff at the nurse who has a crush on jk lmao / jk and his mom loves them to death tho so obv who wins / love is beautiful let’s all cry <3

> in which masterlist!

note: *sitcom sound effect of crowd cheering* I’M BACK 🥰 hope u enjoy the product of my madness during finals season hehehe. and special thanks to my cutieful proofreader rio!! you’re one of my most favorite people i’ve ever met 🥺💕 + my beloveds who came to the rescue when i had medical questions !! i didn’t expect to receive help from soooo many and i’m so freaking grateful i could cri :")

—

“i ordered it the other day. how did it arrive so early?”

jungkook walks back inside the apartment, arms occupied by a stack of boxes that arrived in the mail yesterday.

he arrives at the living room, head tilting to the side in confusion when he realizes that the netflix show he was watching on the television is no longer playing. instead, there is the news channel.

he gasps.

“baby, you’re alive!”

your swollen eyes flicker up to him.

you’re lying on the sofa with your legs lazily dangling on the edge. there’s a toothbrush in your mouth, foam of bubbles between your lips, but your arm barely exerts the energy to make it do its job.

“you were asleep from afternoon to morning. do you know that? you’ve never done that before!” he exclaims, carelessly tossing the boxes on the floor. “i was getting scared!”

you only hum to acknowledge his existence, pushing yourself up from the sofa and unknowingly dodging the hug your boyfriend wanted to greet you with.

he ends up collapsing face first on the empty space you left, hurt and offended.

the bathroom door opens and closes.

he flips over, whining. “yah, we didn’t see each other for a day. didn’t you miss me?!”

still not a single word from you. sleeping that long must not have cured your exhaustion, jungkook surmises. you tend to be glum and cranky when you’re feeling unwell, as is usually the case when you wake up as unrested as before.

he doesn’t always know how to make you feel better, but he always tries anyway.

“our new bedsheets arrived!” he announces from the other side of the bathroom door, making himself loud so that you can hear him despite the shower running. “do you want to unbox them with me?!”

he allows the seconds to pass, but with his hands on his hips, he eventually begins to tap his foot on the floor.

“baby? may i go in?”

he turns the knob, just to be prepared incase the answer is a yes, but it doesn’t turn. a sad pout forms on his face.

huh? why is it locked?

you must genuinely don’t want to be bothered today.

“guess that’s a no.” he mutters to himself before calling out to you. “okay, i’ll wait for you!”

with a crestfallen sigh, he begins to walk back to the living room.

he doesn’t go far, however.

only several steps later, a series of loud crashes is heard from the bathroom and his heart thunders in his chest with a combination of numbing shock and fear.

“____, what was that?! did you fall?!”

he aggressively pounds at the door, extremely desperate this time around. he has no plans on leaving until he knows that you’re safe and sound.

“baby! open this! are you alright…? are you hurt? you’re scaring me. please, answer!”

he pauses, catching his breath as his mind runs a thousand miles per hour.

“____!”

he strikes the door with an open palm one more time, more so to express his frustration that is only growing worse with every tick of the clock. he only ends up hurting himself in the process.

“that’s it! i’m opening the door!”

he frantically whips his head around, racking his brain for the location of the key. there are two copies of it somewhere in the apartment, but in his panicked state, he is unable to pinpoint either of their specific spots. and he can’t fucking afford to waste any more time.

“ah, fuck!” he curses, left with no other choice but to give in to the instinct of breaking down the door with the strength and durability of his body alone.

he would most definitely break his shoulder first before the door.

only after the first try, that much is clear.

and so, with madness inconsiderate of his agony, he resorts to kicking it over and over again.

the repeated loud collisions rattles poor bam from his slumber. not long after, the dog’s barking creates a booming dissonance with his grunts and kicks at the door.

when it finally swings open, the force of his own body sends him stumbling on the bathroom floor, but he doesn’t waste time in bouncing back to his feet.

the twisting of his stomach is instantaneous.

there lies your naked, unconscious figure behind the glass— surrounded by bottles of hair and body products that must have fallen when your hands were searching for something to hold on to.

his voice cracks, breathless.

“baby, no… no, no, no.”

he kneels on the floor, and despite the strong urge to carry you out of there, he tries to calm down. it’s the first rule in every emergency case; professionals reiterate in seminars and news channel segments.

keep calm. keep calm. keep calm.

he won’t be able to forgive himself if he ends up causing more harm than good.

“____, can you hear me?!”

his instinct tells him to inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury, but then his vision becomes too blurry. he curses at the hindrance and forces himself to turn off the showerhead that was left running.

he harshly wipes his face, rushing back to you.

“please, please, please. wake up.” he begs.

he has a feeling that it’s futile. you can’t hear him and he’s wasting his breath. the thing is he doesn’t know what else to do.

“baby…”

he carefully turns your head over, almost relieved because he hasn’t seen blood so far.

almost.

at last, he gets a full view of your face, and he finds blood dripping. this has always been one of his most paralyzing fears— seeing you get hurt. now that it’s become a reality, there’s a part of him that wants to believe this is some kind of twisted dream.

“how- how did this even happen…?” he cries out, his own blood running cold.

for everything that happens after, his body acts on its own. bam is a constant presence in his peripheral, but he is barely in his right mind to acknowledge the presence aside from, “bam, move. daddy might step on you.”

he carries you out of the bathroom, kicking aside the beaten up door. he has made up his mind about bringing you to the hospital, but he can’t bring you like… this.

he lays you down on the bed, all that gentleness switched off in a split second so he can sprint to the walk-in closet. he hastily grabs whatever is on top of your neatly folded stacks of shirts and pants; and then a fresh towel on the way out. the gentleness returns as he pats your face dry, the pure white stained with dark red. he flips the towel and uses the other side to wipe the rest of your body, in a race against time but mindful of treating you like fragile glass.

once that is over, he dresses you in a pair of gray sweatpants, and with some difficulty, an orange t-shirt.

any person with functioning eyes will be able to tell that the shades don’t go together.

if you were conscious, you’d definitely berate him for making you wear this outfit.

but you’re not.

jungkook effortlessly swoops you in his arms— dripping wet hair, his and yours, leaving behind a trail of raindrops from your apartment floor to the cemented parking lot.

—

your body feels like it’s floating.

are you dreaming…?

you must be dreaming.

you hear an uncoordinated symphony of voices, but you can’t comprehend a word. in pursuit of clarity, you force yourself to open your eyes.

the voices grow a little louder. faceless figures hover you; a bright light shines over your face.

your senses must be playing cruel tricks. now it feels like you’re drowning, sinking into the unknown, and your body has succumbed into numbing defeat.

you want to sleep a little more.

you must truly be exhausted. it’s okay.

you’ve fought hard until now. you’ve done enough… has anyone tried in life as much as you did?

just as your eyes flutter shut, you regain sensation of your hand; a soft squeeze and a call of your name.

—

jungkook gently strokes your hair, sighing for the nth time since you got transferred to a private room. he’s relieved that all the scans came back clean so serious head and brain injuries have been ruled out. the doctor also asked him questions and ran some other tests before concluding that electrolyte imbalance caused you to pass out; the culmination of stress and fatigue from work, as well as your strong period, most likely being the main reasons. he didn’t even know about the latter until you stained the white sheets with blood.

it was fucking frightening being in the sidelines as they rushed to check on your vitals and to administer oxygen. even now, it’s unbearable to see you with a needle in your hand and a few stitches above your eyebrow. he already anticipated you not being pleased with having to get stitches specifically either; gasping and sitting up as soon as you heard the word come from his lips post-consciousness. consequently, the dizziness hits you. the doctor wasn’t happy about that.

“this is so annoying. i don’t want a scar.” you whine as you study your face on the camera of jungkook’s phone. “did i have to fall on my prettier side?”

“what are you saying? you’re pretty from any angle.” he interjects. “be careful. the wound might open up.”

you jut out your bottom lip, looking up at him with glassy eyes. the sight instantly tugs at his heartstrings, and he pulls you in for a hug. maybe he’s a little sad that you don’t appear concerned about the fact that you passed out, but god is he relieved to finally hear your voice again.

“ah, i should call the doctor.”

but his face remains buried in your hair.

“they told me to do so.”

“you should-”

“why?!” he abruptly reacts, drawing back. “does anything hurt?”

“chill. you said that they told you to.”

“oh, that’s right.” he sheepishly smiles. he can’t help but to overreact; he hasn’t turned off the alarms in his head. “i’ll go tell the nurse to get her.”

he starts to walk towards the door, but a tug at his shirt holds him back.

you shyly look at him with a scrunch of your nose. “i’m nervous. hug me for five more seconds.”

fuck, he would move heaven and earth to protect you from everything that can cause you harm.

“why would you be nervous? i’m right here.” he scolds you lightheartedly, not hesitating to seize the chance to hug you again. “i love you.”

“i love you more.”

you pull away after five seconds, and he’d be disappointed about you being too true to your words if you didn’t kiss him on the cheek so ardently.

his heart almost jumps out of his chest when you gasp out of nowhere as if you just realized that you left the gas tank open at home. your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

“bam!”

oh, right. your child.

“my brother’s house!” he eases your mind.

you breathe out in relief, the heel of your palm pressing against the left side of your chest where your heart lives. “good… i was worried. he was probably more scared because he didn’t understand what was going on. i feel bad.”

you love bam so much; it makes him so happy. you’re so concerned about him even when you’re the one on the hospital bed. you make pretty good parents, huh?

“that’s right. he was worried about you, too. that’s why you need to recover quickly so he won’t be sad!”

—

the doctor kindly asked jungkook to give the two of you some time alone, so he’s been idly sitting at the lobby after buying a bottle of water. he’s pretty much used to visiting the hospital for routine checkups considering the nature of his job, but it always feels strange to be here for the other different purposes of the place.

is there any other building sadder than this?

if you heard him utter this question, he could easily predict what you’d say: but is there any other building with more love?

if he tries hard enough, he could listen to your voice and paint you in his mind.

you see love in every place that you step foot into.

his curious eyes continue to wander around. he spots people carrying flowers, baskets, and containers of food. there’s also a teenage boy in his high school uniform, carrying a teddy bear larger than him.

not that he wants you to stay longer, but if you have to, he writes down a mental note to bring one of your favorite plushies.

he eventually gets tired; considers scrolling on his phone again, but he decides against it when his gaze lands on a little boy sleeping soundly on his mother’s lap. suddenly, he is reminded of his childhood before he moved to seoul.

how simple life can be when you’re innocently sleeping on your mother’s lap, trusting that everything will be alright.

“ah, i miss my mom…” he utters absentmindedly. “i miss my mom so much. i should call her.”

his reminiscing is interrupted when a wheelchair rolls by infront of him. it is leisurely being pushed by an old man who wants to bring his wife outside for some fresh air.

in a parallel universe somewhere, jungkook can imagine them as you and him.

he sits up straight, looking back at the clock on the wall.

how long has it been? he wants to be by your side again.

—

“jungkook!” your face lights up as soon as your boyfriend steps into the room. “what took you so long?”

“i know. sorry, baby. i got a little distracted outside.”

“i’ve been waiting.” you pout. “why? were people bothering you?”

“not at all. don’t worry.”

you pat the empty space beside you. “here.”

“i think the bed is meant for only one person- damn, okay, okay-”

he swiftly gives in upon seeing the hurt on your face, occupying the space you reserved for him. “i love you. don’t be sad.”

you’re aching too much to wait for him to get settled. you wrap your arms around his waist like you’re a magnet attracted to steel, clinging to him for comfort.

if you’re being honest, you don’t know how you feel about being in this situation. overwhelmed? maybe a tiny bit relieved. in the past, it didn’t matter whether you were sick or not. you needed to work or else it was guaranteed that you wouldn’t survive. life is easier now. you have the luxury to use this as a reason to take a break. you have someone who takes care of you as naturally as he breathes.

“how was the doctor?”

“she’s nice… she just asked me about the things i remember before i passed out. then about my work, diet, sleeping schedule… stuff like that.”

you pull away a little, just enough so you can see each other’s face. you squint at him suspiciously. “did you have to get an expensive room?”

he chuckles. “how did you know? they didn’t tell you that, did they?”

“i literally have the perfect view of the fountain from here!” you point at the large window behind you. “i just passed out. i would’ve been fine downstairs.”

“don’t say it like that. it could’ve been so much worse.” he says with knitted eyebrows, palm cupping the back of your head and caressing softly.

he heaves a sigh.

“i was so scared that you injured your head. seriously, i thought i’d go insane if i lost you! i went past the speed limit driving you here!”

the distress he was under is apparent. you can’t help but to be racked with the guilt. you always do this, making him worry himself to death. you don’t usually do it purpose, and that only makes you feel shittier.

“you’re right. i’m sorry.”

“well, i…” he sighs. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t want this either. it’s not your fault.”

you press your lips into a thin line. “it kind of is.”

your lost eyes meet, and a connection is established like it’s a constellation sending a secret message. your heart flutters when he giggles, dimples and starry eyes and crinkled corners.

“stop it. it’s impossible to scold you when you’re so cute and self-aware.”

“then don’t scold me.” you sniffle sadly to kindle pity in him. “i’ve had enough of it from the doctor.”

your brain still works well enough to help you escape from trouble. that’s a good sign, right?

“my poor baby.” he coos, cradling your cheeks.

his hands are warm. you put yours over them; a wordless signal telling him you don’t want him to go away.

“let’s not get hurt again, please. we need to stay healthy and take good care of ourselves so this won’t happen again, alright?”

you nod in obedience. your eyes are fixed on him but you’re not certain if you’re registering what he’s telling you in your pitiful, shaken brain.

“the hospital already did me many favors. if we go back, i might have to build them another fountain as a gift.”

and knowing jungkook, with his golden heart and his black card, jokes become half-meant.

“what do they need that for?!”

he bursts out laughing, yet again, after you chide at him for his ridiculous and unnecessary expenses.

“nothing, i’m just grateful! i was really so scared but i’m relieved now thanks to them. i can’t remember the last time i felt that way.”

“you’re not scared of a lot of things.” you point out.

“that’s right.” he agrees. “only you scare me these days.”

you grimace. “am i scary?”

“you are, sometimes.” he laughs, squishing your cheeks together. “but i mean the things that could hurt you.”

as if on cue, your stomach grumbles and bellows like a monster stuck in an empty cave. your eyes grow twice its size in bewilderment, which then morphs into embarrassment.

“my stomach hurts.” you say quietly.

your nostrils flare as jungkook miserably fails to hold back his laughter. one of his hands leave your face, rubbing your tummy over the thin hospital gown.

“oh no, what are we going to do? where does it hurt? here?” he pouts. “should we go feed you now to make it go away?”

“what is wrong with you?” you slap his shoulder in annoyance. “i’m not a baby!”

“yah, be careful!” he yells, wincing as if he is the one in pain. “be gentle with the one with the iv!”

—

“you know one good thing that came out of this?” you gush out of nowhere.

you’re mixing up the ingredients of your bibimbap bowl with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks.

jungkook noisily drinks the final sips of his banana milk. afterwards, he makes a game out of shooting the box in the trash bin.

“what could that be?” he asks, doubtful.

he sits on the chair beside your bed. you greet him with a delighted grin, licking your thumb stained with gochujang.

“you proved your love. you committed a crime for me.”

he gasps to humor you, body freezing as if he’s currently processing the newly-learned information in his brain.

“oh? you’re right- i did! and you know what? i’d do it again!”

with a mouthful of rice, you shake your head in disagreement furiously. “you’re cute. but that’s the first and last.”

“but how are you sure that it’s the first?” he raises an eyebrow quizically.

silly enough, you envy him for being able to do so.

you hum in thought. “i guess you’ve stolen a few things for me, too.”

“few? you mean a loooot?”

“you’re the one who brings home food and random things.” you roll your eyes. “i never ask you to.”

“you told me you wanted the service bell!”

you feel yourself become flushed with sheepishness. he’s not lying. you’ve always found the object fascinating as a child, so you couldn’t help but to tell him to sneakily take one home after filming a competitive run bts episode.

did you have a silly phase where you and jungkook used it to summon each other just to laugh together about it?

perhaps.

“well, you’re rich. you could’ve bought me one instead.”

“but it was already there.” he reasons with a wide grin, gesturing infront of him. “i wanted to give it to my lover right away.”

his lover?

jungkook has successfully replaced your frown with an enamored smile.

“i made your heart flutter just now, didn’t i?”

a hospital stay has never felt this comfortable— not terrifying. you have stitches on your face and to add to that, this hospital gown feels super unflattering. somehow, your boyfriend’s loving gaze remains steady and you are melting.

“shut up,” you mutter, flustered, handing him the pair of chopsticks. “please eat with me. i can’t finish this on my own.”

—

“why would you let them put the needle in my dominant hand?”

you stomp your feet on the ground as jungkook squeezes some toothpaste onto a newly-bought toothbrush.

“i’m sorry! i was too stressed out so i just pointed! i think i got confused with- with left and right.”

you didn’t realize this while you were eating; that you were unconsciously holding the spoon with your non-dominant hand because the other felt uncomfortable. maybe because it was a simple task, scooping food and bringing it to your mouth. brushing your teeth, on the other hand… can be quite an arm workout.

“eeeee!”

he shows his complete set of teeth, urging you to do the same. you stare at him blankly.

“eeeee!” he repeats with heightened enthusiasm.

left with no other choice— you copy his awkward smile.

“there we go!” he praises you with an over-enthusiastic beam.

he carries on to brush your teeth, gingerly holding your chin to keep you steady as he does his job.

this is the first time jungkook is doing this for you. today is definitely not one of your finest moments. it feels a bit silly to be in this situation, and you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in this position in the first place. you can see that he’s trying his best—unnecessarily focused—and that he loves you, but you just hate giving him a hard time.

with a soft smile, he wipes the bubbles that overflowed past your lips.

“okay, spit.”

you spit out more of the bubbles on the sink. you assume that he’s finished, except he’s making another vowel sound for you to mimic the mouth shape of.

“ahhhh-”

“this is embarrassing!”

“baby, really? this is where you draw the line?” he playfully squeezes your cheeks together. “it’s almost over! ahhhh!”

and you let him do this thing, but not without a glare that is masking the embarrassing truth: you might be enjoying this more than you care to admit.

“see? was that so bad?”

as he tenderly pats your face dry in the aftermath, he says: “i’m sorry. bear with it a little more. let me take care of you so you’ll be healthy again.” and you feel every ounce of his sincerity pierce through the barriers surrounding your soul.

“stop it…” your voice suddenly comes out broken.

you want to put all the blame on your period for the tears that are now brimming your eyes, but jungkook is your biggest weakness of all and that is an explanation enough.

“why are you crying?” he panics. “what did i say?”

“it’s your fault.”

you break down into loud sobs, incapable of even keeping your eyes open. you never understood why we close our eyes when we cry, but right now, you know that you can’t bear to witness his reaction.

“you’re so sweet.”

the towel that was wiping the water from your mouth is now drying the tears from your stained cheeks.

“am i making you sad?”

you furiously shake your head. how could he say such a thing? he is the greatest joy of your life.

“no?”

“no!”

“okay, come here then.”

he wraps his arms around your trembling figure, caging you in the solace of his entire existence. a sense of calmness washes over your system, especially as he runs his hand across your back in gentle strokes. this isn’t his goal though, it seems. you hear none of his quiet shushes beseeching you to stop breaking his heart. he hopes you let go of everything that has been weighing on you, but he has already eased all your pains by loving you.

“ugh, i probably look horrible right now.” you force a chuckle to lighten up the mood, wiping your face with the back of your free hand. “i feel gross.”

“that’s not true.” he gazes at you fondly, brushing your hair with his fingers. “it’s actually infuriating how you look so beautiful still.”

“i know. i’m nice to look at; that’s why you tolerate my attitude.” you conclude in jest.

“yeah, sometimes.” he rides on the joke.

“what…?”

“i’m joking!” he rushes to take it back with a laugh. “of course i’m joking!”

you pout. “are you really?”

“oh, come onnnn.”

he coaxes you with a kiss on the lips— a good morning kiss long overdue. you’ve been spoiled rotten with affection; he knows you need more than one. he interrupts himself several times to kiss you.

“you know i’ll love you until our hair turns white and our skin all wrinkly.”

to be brutally honest, you’re not fond of imagining that far ahead. it’s daunting. you doubt your capability to age with grace. you’re horrified by the thought of having the majority of your life behind you. nostalgia has always been more bitter than sweet. but maybe this memory could be the sweetest of all, if jungkook truly stays by your side until then. in a cottage at the countryside like he said once, or a cabin by the ocean.

you’re both so young; so arrogant when it comes to making promises that are a shot in the dark. so fucking in love.

“me too.” you half-smile, scrunching your nose— a telltale sign of your joy. “now, get out. i really need to pee.”

his face becomes drained of blood. “but you’re st-”

“i won’t lock the door this time.” you cup his cheek, looking at his eyes reassuringly. “we don’t need property damage added to the bill.”

—

“did you not hurt yourself?”

“me?”

“you broke down the door. that’s not easy to do.”

you and jungkook make the best out of a bad deal. you’re squeezed together on the bed, browsing through television channels that seem to never end.

“it was easy because you were on the other side of it.”

that is what he claims confidently, but you are not fully convinced.

“wow, why do they have more channels than we do at home?”

“you didn’t answer my question.” you pout. “did you hurt yourself?”

“i didn’t hurt myself. i’m totally okay. i promise.”

he maintains eye-contact as he speaks. given the assurance, your tight chest unrestricts. jungkook is not a good liar. it’s a trait that causes him inconvenience every now and then, but it helps you to sleep soundly at night.

“should we just watch funny animal videos on youtube?”

“i guess that’s fine.”

it doesn’t show but you feel excitement run in your veins aside from the iv fluids that feel peculiarly cold.

from under your cheek, his chest vibrates with a giggle. “okay, hold on.”

as he pulls up the application, you tangle your legs together beneath the thin blanket. you hear the rapid tap tap tap of the remote control navigating the keypad while he types on the search bar, but your attention is someplace else. you’ve found the crook of his neck to sneak into, lazily kissing every inch of his exposed skin. your lips eventually trail up to his jaw. he smells so nice. you’re addicted.

“baby, someone can enter any minute.”

“i’m not doing anything.” you mumble.

you smile against his lips when he gives you a kiss as sweet as honey anyway.

“i’m curious about another thing.”

“what’s that?”

“did you cry?”

he comes to a still. the answer to that question requires a little time and thought.

“almost…”

“why almost?”

“no time. i had to bring you here, of course.” he replies.

you huff a laugh, exhaling a twinge of melancholia. “don’t cry.”

“i won’t. i’m happy now because you’re awake and fighting with me.”

“ow-”

your cry of pain is silenced when he squeezes you in an embrace that makes it nearly impossible to breathe.

“red panda!”

a squeal assaults both of your hearing as soon as your eyes land on the wide screen infront of the bed.

“i want one so fucking bad.”

the enunciated curse makes your boyfriend crack up in amusement. “that much?!”

—

jungkook opens his eyes to a nurse lightly nudging him awake.

“i’m sorry, i had to wake you up. i need to check vitals and draw blood.”

“shit, i’m sorry.” he panics.

his brain is foggy from the nap, but he still carefully sits up on the bed, wary of the iv line connected to your hand.

“i… was tired and i fell asleep.”

“it’s no problem; don’t worry.”

she smiles at him, but he doesn’t see it.

“you look adorable sleeping.”

“ah, really?” he awkwardly responds, absentminded. “it’s embarrassing.”

he stands on your side, about to disturb your peaceful rest much as it makes his heart ache with guilt, but you’re already stirring due to the absence of his warmth.

your heavy eyelids blink at the nurse in curiosity. “oh… do you need my blood?”

“yes, but i’ll take your blood pressure and temperature first.”

“okay,” you mumble, offering your arm. “it might be higher now because i’m scared.”

she chuckles at your joke. jungkook tries to share an endeared look with her and non-verbally communicate adorable, right?

“i promise i’ll be quick. although we definitely want it to be higher than earlier’s.”

you wince as the cuff around your upper arm goes as tight as it could, and you sigh at the same time that it begins to deflate.

“good, good, good,” she chants with a mumble. “it’s back in the normal range again…”

she brings out a digital thermometer from her pocket.

“you know where this goes.”

she hands it over to you, and you awkwardly place it in your armpit, holding it in place. it’s quiet as you wait for the device to make the beeping sound, except for her pen creating friction with your chart as she takes down notes.

“how’s your stitches? do you feel any discomfort?”

“it’s fine. thank you.”

not long after, you hear the beep. you return the thermometer to her, but not before taking a peak at the numbers displayed on the tiny screen. 36.8°C. you think you’ll live.

“i’ll draw your blood now.”

the nurse’s voice is sweet and reassuring, but it doesn’t quite ease the nervousness evident on your expression. your pupils shake as you watch her disinfect the area, and then comes out the long needle.

another one, jungkook laments inside.

“____, i’m right here.”

you crane your head, whimpering out his name. “jungkook,”

“it will be just a pinch. i’m inserting the needle now, alright?”

you take a sharp inhale.

if only he could switch positions with you, he would do it in a heartbeat. unfortunately, all he can do is caress your hair and whisper that it will be over soon.

“it hurts.” your damp eyelashes flutter, face twisting in discomfort. “i don’t like it.”

really, just a pinch? obviously a lie.

“hey, baby. look at the tv.”

the autoplay was left turned on after you fell asleep together. inside the screen is a puppy rolling around a snow-covered lawn. the wagging of its tail, the wide smile, and the pupils as big as boba balls: they all scream the happiness of an innocent.

“it’s so cute… i miss bam already. can we go to a dog park again?”

“of course!”

that promise sparks your smile. you turn to your side, and jungkook also catches a glimpse of the cotton taped to where you were poked.

“all done. you can go back to resting.”

“thank you. will you need to take blood again?” you inquire at the nurse.

“hm, probably. it depends on the doctor based on the results we get from this one.”

“can’t you just do it while i’m asleep? or is that not allowed?”

“baby…” jungkook snorts, hiding his face behind the palm of his hands.

the nurse laughs at your desperate suggestion. “that is honestly not a rare request, but the thing is… you might wake up in the middle of it and injure yourself. we can’t do that.”

“that won’t be a problem!” you passionately argue your case. “i’m a deep sleeper. seriously!”

“ah, thank you so much for your hard work!”jungkook intervenes, bowing to the nurse out of respect and gratitude. “i’m sure you’re busy. i will handle this!”

“oh yes, yes- thank you. please don’t forget the medicine for after dinner.”

“i won’t!”

“if you need anything, you know where to find me again.”

“yes,” he nods, chuckling. “thank you.”

“then i should leave…? but you’ll see me again later! bye!”

the door shuts, and his attention lands on your unimpressed form: a blank stare and arms folded infront of your chest.

uh-oh.

“did she seriously wink while saying that?”

“what?” he freezes, genuinely clueless. “i don’t know. i didn’t see anything. i was looking at you.”

“i’m right here- i’m the patient. why would you need anything from her? huh? why is she so excited to see you again?” you ramble angrily.

“right?!”

he climbs on the bed, reclaiming his spot next to you.

“that was weird.”

“what if she made it hurt on purpose? that…” you frown, glancing at your arm. “that didn’t really feel like a pinch to me.”

“ey, calm down. she wouldn’t.” he makes a doubtful face, laughing off the accusation. “…i don’t think so?”

you blink, exhaling in disbelief. “are you taking her side now?”

“of course not! baby, i’m just saying… a professional won’t do that.”

“why not? she’s still human. humans do stupid things when they like someone. she obviously likes you.”

“and so what?”

he grins with a spark of mischief, leaving an inch of a distance between your lips.

“i’m obviously yours.”

but you turn your cheek and your eyes fall on your lap, a pout highlighting your downcast mood.

“it’s so annoying.”

the regret sinks in after. he should’ve stuck to the golden rule: agree with everything that you say. there’s no point in having an argument no one will win. does it matter who’s right and wrong if each other’s sadness is contagious in addition to their own? your gut has almost always been right, and he’s old enough to be conscious of not allowing a stranger to put a dent on your relationship.

“are you serious? are you uncomfortable?” he tilts his head to try and get a better look at your face. “should i request for a different nurse?”

it’s quiet for a beat and he feels inclined to fill the silence with whatever enters his mind.

“i love you.”

almost immediately, your features soften and he knows your heart is also melting. the two of you bite the inside of your cheeks to hide a smile.

“no, there’s no need for that.”

but he still can’t help but to be worried. your peace of mind is his top priority. he doesn’t want you to be more stressed out, especially by things that he has the power to solve.

“are you sure?”

“she pissed me off. i need to piss her off too.”

of course, his ever stubborn and competitive lover. he sits up properly, amused and curious.

“and how will you do that?”

“i don’t know,” you nonchalantly shrug. “i’ll come up with something.”

—

“come up with what?”

to your surprise, a voice you haven’t heard in weeks echoes from the door.

“mom…?”

you’re stunned after only hearing yourself react to jungkook’s mother’s unexpected entrance. your head whips to his direction; your eyes wordlessly interrogating him.

“i need to go to work so i called her to watch over you.” he explains.

“why would you do that?” you argue with him as quietly as possible, lips barely moving as you try to hide your face from your mother-in-law. again, not one of your finest moments. “you didn’t have to. i can take care of myself.”

“but you don’t have to because you have us.”

jungkook marks the conversation finished with a kiss pressed to your temple, leaving you dumbfounded. he jumps off the bed and for a split second, you make eye-contact with his mother before he towered over her for a quick hug.

her kind smile is embroidered in your memory; a memory that wraps your heart in a type of warmth only a mother can provide.

“mom! i’m sorry. i really, really, really need to leave now. but! i’ll try to come back early so you can go home early too.”

“aigoo, stop stressing yourself out.”

jungkook receives a slap on the back, somehow more loving can scolding.

“i can stay the night so do what you need to do. you don’t have to worry.”

“it’s not only because i’m worried!”

she sassily puts a hand over her waist. it takes everything in you not to laugh out loud.

“then what else?”

“mom! what else?” he cheekily smiles. “of course i’ll miss ____ too much.”

did your boyfriend just…? to his mother? your jaw becomes slack from the shame.

“i missed ____ too!” she contests. “go to work and give us our alone time.”

you shyly smile when she transfers her attention from her son to you.

“hello, my baby. are you hungry?”

—

“does my son feed you well?”

“he does! but it’s funny- other mothers ask the opposite. are you feeding my son well? do you make sure he’s comfortable?”

you think out loud, transfixed on how she peels oranges with ease. your hands would always be stained by the juices, (and eyes red and teary from accidental splashes) (it’s too embarrassing to even think about) but hers are still magically clean.

“is that so?”

you graciously accept the slice she feeds you. she laughs when your face lights up like a christmas tree one more time. it’s way sweeter than you anticipated. you can’t get over how delicious it is.

“mhmm!”

perhaps you relied too much on dramas when it came to your expectations of what a relationship with your in-laws would look like. you imagined yourself running around like a dog trying to prove yourself worthy of their son, yet for some reason, it looks like they adore you for simply existing. it makes you feel extremely grateful, but you don’t understand.

“mom, i have a question… i know it’s probably too late to ask this now, but…”

“what could that be?”

“are you really not against me and jungkook living together?” you swallow your fear of the possibility of an unpleasant truth. “are you not… worried… that i’m receiving too much from him?”

because you would understand the apprehension. as a parent, one’s main concern would be their child. to outside eyes, it’s easy to come to the conclusion that jungkook is being taken advantage of and he’d be better off dating someone with the same status. sometimes you wish you were that someone too.

she utters your name sadly.

“he receives happiness and love from you. those are the most valuable things you could give to a person.”

she caresses your hair like she wants to erase the anxiety poisoning your mind.

“my dear, how come you’re worried about that until now? haven’t we told you? you’re part of the family. forget about my sister! i don’t welcome her negativity in our house!”

“living together is different. it’s a big deal. it normally happens in a relationship after…” the following words feel foreign in your mouth; they come out quieter than the rest of your sentence. “getting married.”

“then tell me. why did you agree to live with him?”

because you’re selfish. because you want more time that you can have him all to yourself. because you want to be accessible— the first person he runs to when he’s seeking comfort and stability. because you want goodnight and good morning kisses. because you were afraid of the risks but you’ve grown addicted to the thrill of love.

“he said… no matter how hard i push him away, he will stay within my reach.”

you hear your own shaky breathing. that moment— it’s still burned into your memory. you’re still holding on to it. it’s a promise he is yet to break and you pray that he never, ever does.

“i don’t want to push him away. i want to be within his reach too.”

you’re two people loving each other with everything within your means. after the endless pains and the deafening noise, you like to think that’s what makes this relationship worth fighting for.

“does my opinion still matter knowing that? will you let me stop you?”

“no, i won’t. i’d make you change your mind.”

if you had a machine connected to you, she would see how your heart rate has gone off the charts. but you’re known to say whatever’s on your mind and that, much to your dismay, isn’t switched off despite sitting infront of the woman who birthed and raised the love of your life.

you sniffle, pursing your lips nervously. “but i feel like there might be a right answer to that one.”

what you didn’t expect was her to laugh until her belly hurts; placing a hand over her mouth in an effort to calm herself down and keep grace.

“mom! stop, i’m so embarrassed!”

“no, ____, don’t get me wrong!”

she is teary-eyed as she gathers herself together.

“the more time i spend with you, the more i realize why jungkook loves you so much. i’ve seen him show incredible commitment twice. do you know that? first, when he went to seoul to become a singer. second, when he told us he got an apartment because he wants to be with you… of course, as his mother, i’ll admit that he’s young when he made those decisions, but he always proves to me that he’s smart and responsible.”

the urge to cry returns and strengthens as she speaks. you feel your eyelashes become damp with unshed tears. you don’t know how to act. you fiddle with your fingers. you stare at the strings and peels of the oranges you can still taste.

“i believe we both know jungkook’s personality well. he wouldn’t have let me stop him either. i’m happy to know that you’ll fight for him too.”

“thank you…”

“tsk, tsk, tsk- what is there to cry about? jungkook will get angry at me if he discovers that i made you cry.”

she wipes away your tears; however, the unmistakable scent of oranges that has clung to her hands and the affection in her tone bring forth a waterfall.

“seeing this makes me sadder.” she laments, referring to the stitches on your face.

“me too,” you babble in the midst of quiet sobs. “it makes me sad. it’s so ugly.”

—

you can’t remember the last time you felt this alone. perhaps it’s the effect of staying in an unfamiliar building of complete strangers. without your mobile phone, may you add. you managed to persuade jungkook’s mother to leave an hour ago because you didn’t want her to sleep on the uncomfortable couch.

the lights are turned off except for the lamp beside your bed, and with the television muted, you could hear a hairpin drop.

you’re alone and you can do whatever you want.

you dragged the visitor’s chair infront of the window to admire the garden like it’s a painting in motion. you watched people converse, stroll, and drink coffee. you watched them run for shelter when the clouds became too heavy and the sky began to fall. oh, so that’s why you couldn’t see the stars.

at this moment, there’s nothing left to amuse yourself with but the trembling of the leaves and the raindrops forming temporary rings when they fall in the water fountain.

your senses crave for more. you reach over and crack open the window, just enough to allow the sound of the rain and the scent of it permeating the earth to enter your room.

“this is kind of peaceful.” you whisper, amazed by the new lightness carried by your heart.

you close your eyes and you breathe in the petrichor deeply. you want nature in your lungs as a reminder that you’re alive. you welcome the cold wind kissing your face. you can feel your hair touching your neck. you always do, but for once, you’re choosing to acknowledge it. your thumb slowly brushes across the palm of your hand, perceiving the texture of your skin, the softness, and the lines. and your feet, they’re in the clouds, the fluffy slippers jungkook’s mother bought outside because she knows they’re your favorite to wear.

you’ve loved and despised this body for a million different reasons. your mind and heart have accepted defeat countless times, but your body wakes up to every brand new day without fail. your body implores you to live. did it finally give up on you today?

“baby!”

you look behind to search for the source of the sound.

you get your answer from the kiss planted on your lips.

you only saw his face for a split second, but even if you had your eyes closed, you’d know it has to be jungkook kissing you.

you can smell him. you’ve memorized the way the shape of his lips fits with yours.

oh, the sounds of his kisses too. you like to call them the butterfly call because they make butterflies appear in your stomach.

you could trace the scar on his cheek with your finger if you want to.

god, what a privilege it is to experience life in this vessel.

a knock on the door forces you to part too early. the same nurse from earlier enters and you internally scream all the curse words in your dictionary. jungkook acknowledges her with a bow and a quick ‘hello’ before squatting down infront of you.

“i committed another crime for you today.”

“huh?”

your wide, confused eyes take a glimpse at the nurse who is doing something with the controls of your iv line.

hahaha… she knows he’s not serious, right?

“what did you do?”

his smile is so big that his eyes have turned into little crescent moons. you’d make a guess but there is an infinite amount of things jungkook could possibly be this excited about.

…apparently, one of them would be strawberry cake.

you gape at the transparent box he was hiding behind his back all along.

“did you steal somebody’s birthday cake?!”

“it’s a producer’s birthday and he received lots of cakes, so he told me i can take one home.”

“how is it stealing if he allowed you to take it?”

he tosses his backpack on the couch as he sets down the box on the table. he rummages through the bag his mother left behind, successfully bringing out a spoon. meanwhile, you get your blood pressure taken again.

as he opens the box, he sends a smirk your way.

“no. i hid the strawberry cake because there’s so many who wanted to eat it.”

“are you crazy?!”

the nurse clicks her tongue. “don’t talk and stay still, please.”

“oh,” your hand flies to your mouth on instinct. “i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry.” jungkook also apologizes.

you and your boyfriend secretly share a look, exchanging a smile that is stifled laughter inside. your lips remain zipped as the nurse restarts the process of taking your blood pressure. on the other hand, jungkook eats a spoonful of cake, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows at you. you roll your eyes and he tries harder to laugh without a sound.

seconds later, he grumbles about the room being too warm. he wipes the beads of sweat on his forehead using the back of his hand, and he does the worst thing he could possibly do at this moment. he reaches for his back, pulling his sweater over his head. naturally, his inner shirt rides up and allows wandering eyes a peak at his glorious toned abdomen.

passed out in the shower. busted your eyebrow open. front-row seat for a woman flirting and ogling at your boyfriend.

how fucking great.

“hello? i think it’s done.” you snap.

“a-ah, yes.”

you hear her swallow as she removes the cuff from your arm. she may be wearing a mask but she’s hot and red all the way to her ears. you’ve only read about it in books. you didn’t even believe this could happen in real life until now.

“i will check your temperature too.”

“go on.”

you repeat the same process from hours earlier, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you wait for the beep.

“yah, why is the window open? you’ll catch a cold.”

jungkook, yet again, steals the attention of every person in the room when he rises to his feet. his shadow casts over you as he closes the window.

“i wanted to smell the rain.”

“is the room getting too stuffy for you?”

you shrug. “i just wanted to smell the rain.”

you feel the nurse’s stare. you offer her a smile and her nameplate briefly gets caught by your vision. kang ji-woo.

“ji-woo; that’s a pretty name.” you pay her a sincere compliment. “it’s healing, don’t you think?”

“yes? uh-uhm, y-yes…” she replies, unsure and confused by the sudden small talk. “actually, it’s been linked to a reduction in stress and anxiety levels.”

“thank you! babe, did you hear that?”

“uhuh, think about my stress and anxiety levels.” he leans against the window with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you.

so now he’s flexing his arm muscles. cool, cool, cool. you know he’s not doing it on purpose and his entire existence is just naturally hot and it’s infuriating.

“i’ve been worried sick about you all day.”

his statement makes you frown for a new reason. at the same moment, the thermometer beeps.

“could you please tell him that i’m fine?”

“37.3, uhhh- that’s slightly above normal. how do you feel? does your head hurt? are you cold?”

“i feel fine though?”

“okay. please take a lot of rest and stay warm…” her gaze lingers at jungkook who is blocking the window. “keep the window closed. hopefully it won’t be higher when i check again later.”

seriously?! you could cry. you want to go home where it’s comfortable. where it’s only you and jungkook and bam.

but you bet somebody would be happy if you had to stay longer.

“i’ll look after ____.” your boyfriend sighs, pulling out a jacket from his backpack.

“you shouldn’t have kissed me. what if you get sick?”

your blatantness causes the nurse to pause in updating your chart. she awkwardly clears her throat. “yeah… that… that isn’t currently advisable.”

“i’m sorry. i’ll control myself.”

you earn a glare from jungkook, then he fakes a smile which you gladly return.

“before you go, may i request for a new blanket? sorry, i spilled something earlier.”

“sure thing! i’ll come back with that right away.”

—

“she seemed happy to leave.” jungkook remarks. “i can’t tell if you were actually being nice or being passive aggressive.”

you smile innocently, taking a bite off the strawberry you stole from the top of the cake. “i’m a fucking angel.”

damn it, why is he suddenly turned on?

were you serious about the no kiss rule?

“would you rather i be the type to pull their hair?”

he shakes his head with a laugh. “but you did slap someone once.”

“you want to see me that furious again?”

“never in my wildest dreams.”

he kisses the top of your head, producing an exaggerated ‘mmmwah!’ sound that makes you giggle happily.

“here, have some more cake.”

he offers you a spoonful of cake.

no, it’s bigger.

as a matter of fact, the piece could probably pass off as a cupcake.

you gawk at it as if you’re figuring out the logistics of putting it in your mouth. his heart does a flip when you tilt your head and do your best to take in the whole thing. however, in the middle of it, you decide that you can’t, and you end up biting it off a little more than halfway.

oh my god, he loves you. he loves you. you’re so fucking cute.

your cheeks are full as you struggle to chew. you cover your mouth with your hand but they don’t touch. you’re so elegant in your ways and sometimes he wonders how you’re still attracted to him after he acts stupid.

also, plain white nails? that’s new. you always want colors.

“your nails look pretty.”

he is so focused on you that he fails to take notice of another presence occupying the room.

“your mom did them for me.”

“i figured. she wants to do mother-daughter things with you.”

the short break of silence speaks volumes. you look at him, blinking with eyes hinting at a type of joy you’re lost on how to express.

“did you choose white?”

“no. we were watching a drama and it was the couple’s wedding.”

oh, that makes total sense.

“let me guess,” he trails off with a half-embarrassed, half-entertained smile. “she asked when we will get married?”

“why would she ask me that? how would i know?” you scoff.

his heart starts at a thousand miles per hour. fuck, are you hinting at him? are you messing with his feelings again? with you, he always needs to remind himself to be rational.

“i need more time to prove to you that i’m husband material.”

“what? stop it. i don’t care. i don’t need a ring.”

your unpredictableness pushes him to the edge of his seat.

“don’t pressure yourself. you already treat me way better than most husbands do their wives.”

the pride painted on your face is unmistakable. he feels his heart swelling in his chest. has he been doing a better job than he originally thought? after what happened today, he was terrified that he hasn’t been paying enough attention to you.

“i’m so happy with what we have.”

you offer him a delicate smile before eating the rest of the cake that was left on the spoon. he swears there’s a glowing halo above your head.

could your temperature have magically dropped in the past five minutes? would you kill him if he kissed you right now?

“is there anything else i could assist you with?”

and then he is rudely snapped out of his hopeless adoration and daydreaming.

“that’s all! thank you for your hard work!” you chirp.

he turns to the nurse with a lovesick grin.

“please come to our wedding.”

the unforeseen wedding invitation earns him a slap on the chest. he clutches the affected area, wincing in pain.

he hears you mutter. “don’t invite strangers to our wedding.”

the irritated glare he predicted to face isn’t there. rather, you’re wearing the flustered smile he only sees when he knows that he did something to make you fall for him all over again.

before ji-woo left, she tried to subtly reject the invitation by jokingly saying that she’d die to go, but most probably, she’d have to work that day. you know… being an overworked hospital employee and all. you caught her glancing at you with bitterness failed to be guised as indifference. you get it. you’d hate it if another person was in your place. frankly speaking, you could be miles pettier.

your boyfriend wipes the corner of your lips, thoughtless as he licks off the cake frosting from his thumb.

damn it, you wish she was also here for that.

“you haven’t stopped smiling.”

“you love me and you never let me forget that.”

you give an answer despite the lack of a question mark.

you just made his world stop spinning on its axis and you’re not even aware.

jungkook knows the heavenly feeling of knowing that he is loved, but he has never deeply considered the joy and relief when the person he loves believes that he loves them.

“i’m so lucky. i love you.”

you push yourself up to plant a kiss on his forehead. it’s a rarity he treasures and keeps.

“i love you too.”

he cries infront of you.

almost.

he excuses himself to the bathroom and cries in there a little.

you’re so easy to love— that’s why it makes him want to do difficult things for you. like commit more crimes?

[greensagephase]

For Better or Worse - Part 2

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: Overwhelmed, you seek a moment of solitude on your sister's wedding day at the garden, but you can't even have that thanks to your sister's now brother-in-law, Miguel. Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: use of y/n; no name for your sister still (I think we're just going to go with a nickname); some cussing; alcohol consumption; pesky aunts and a divorced man offer unsolicited opinions; some Spanish but translations are provided in text; a bit of arguing; suggestive content, so MDNI, please!; reader is fluent in Spanish; I think that's all A/N: hiiii, finally updating this after two months 🫠 But anyway, I just wanted to give a big thank you to @lauraolar14 for the amazing fanart she made from part 1!! Found here ! Thank you, Lara!! 🥰 Pls go and support her!! Masterlist | Part 1! | Spotify

You down a glass with water and place it on a tray just as a waiter offers you another drink. You politely decline before letting your gaze wander around the elegant venue your sister and Gabriel chose for the reception, thinking how it’s truly beautiful and perfect for the wedding they both envisioned.

Your eyes eventually land on the newlyweds as they dance, a smile tugging at your lips. They’ve been dancing nonstop since their first dance, which means their feet will likely be sore tomorrow. However, by tomorrow afternoon they should be in their honeymoon destination, relaxing from the last couple of days of last minute wedding shenanigans and basking in their newlywed energy.

“Aww, sweetie,” someone says, ripping your attention from your sister and now brother-in-law. It’s one of your aunts. You offer a polite smile as she approaches, your gut warning you about her intentions. “Look at you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Look at me…?” you state but it sounds more like a question.

“This must be so hard for you,” your aunt says, taking your arm and holding it, with a sad tone that matches the frown on her face.

You hold back from sighing in annoyance, recognizing where this is going. You’ve heard it twice already from two other aunts.

“Not really. I know she’s the baby of the family, but well, we all grow up, right?” you reply, forcing a smile. You hope your words will deter your aunt from explaining what she truly means, but unfortunately for you, it doesn’t.

“Aw, not that, sweetie. I mean, yes, but I was referring to how hard it must be for you as the eldest. Seeing your younger sister get married before you - it must be so hard. You should’ve been married by now, maybe with a little toddler at your side. Instead, you’ve found yourself witnessing your younger sister marry first, and who knows, maybe pregnant in a few months, but cheer up, sweetie. Don’t let this make you feel less, okay? Sometimes… Not everyone has the pleasure of marrying and experiencing motherhood, but that’s alright. I’m sure you have other… things that bring happiness to you, like… your job?” your aunt says, giving your arm what she thinks is a reassuring squeeze, but is rather an uncomfortable one. On top of that, she’s delivering another jab at you she doesn’t even know she’s making. “I’m sure that brings a lot of satisfaction to you.”

“Thank you for your kind words,” you force yourself to say with a fake smile that seems to go past your aunt. You silently pray she leaves you alone and that this is the last time you have to hear the same “comforting” and “reassuring” words for the night. You hope so, or you’ll slap someone. Mentally, of course. You’d never cause any kind of commotion publicly, much less at your sister’s wedding when you care so deeply about her and Gabriel. Besides, that’d give the people a field day and fill their minds with thoughts of you being “jealous” or “resentful” about your sister marrying before you.

Thankfully, your aunt leaves, off to offer more unsolicited advice and words of comfort, probably.

“Mierda [shit],” you sigh just as you hear a man somewhere behind you.

“Ah, Miguel! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Working all the time, huh?”

Subtly, you glance behind you at the man’s words. You didn’t even know Miguel was nearby, but now knowing he is, you wonder if he heard your aunt. You hope he didn’t as the last thing you want is Miguel to think you were looking at the newlyweds with jealously and that that was the reason your aunt felt the need to provide those “reassuring” words.

“Yes, yes. I stay busy working,” you hear Miguel reply.

“Good for you. And you’re still single?” the man asks.

“Si. No tengo pareja [Yes. I don’t have a partner],” Miguel replies, a hint of humor in his tone.

“That’s good, that’s good! No plans of marriage in sight for you. It’s better that way. You can spend your money how you want to, no children involved, no woman bothering you about grand gestures, or making you spend money. Enjoy your youth, have your fun. Maybe later on, you can settle down.”

You continue to watch the people on the dance floor, but you can’t help but scoff to yourself at the difference.

Your aunt was just pitying you about not being married and having children, but Miguel is being celebrated for the same thing by this man when he’s a few years older than you. You grab a glass from a waiter’s tray, thanking him. “I need one, or two after the crap I’m hearing,” you murmur to yourself as he walks away.

“You think so?” Miguel asks. “At my age, people think I ought to be married. Maybe with a kid or two.”

“No, no. Trust me, it’s better. That’s why I divorced.”

“I thought it was your wife who divorced you,” Miguel says gently. Despite the gentleness, Miguel’s words tear down the man’s attempt to make it seem like he had been the one to make the decision, and had you been watching Miguel, you would’ve noticed his raised brow to go along with it.

“Ah - well. Yes… But who cares? I’m divorced and free. I’m doing better than I was.” The man laughs. “I’m doing so, so, so great...” he says trailing off before chugging down some alcohol, a sign of a man who is most definitely doing great.

You roll your eyes. God bless that woman, she made the right choice divorcing the idiot behind you.

“Yeah, well…” you hear Miguel start. “I guess marriage is not for everyone. I’m not going to say it’s not for me, though. Who knows? Maybe one day a woman catches my attention.”

“You’ll be a miserable man, trust me. Don’t let any woman lure you into the marriage trap. You’re too young. Enjoy your youth. Go on dates. Have fun, if you know what I mean,” the man says, using a tone that leaves no doubt about what he’s referring to.

You decide you’ve heard enough, so you walk away, glass in hand. You glance at your sister and Gabriel from the sidelines of the dance floor, still dancing and lost in their own little and magical bubble. The sight brings a smile to your face once more before you turn, seeking a moment to yourself.

You step out of the venue, sighing deeply as you walk into a garden area where photos were taken earlier in the day. You briefly recall the photo session and how you were forced to take some photographs with the groom’s best man, who looked equally displeased to stand next to you, the maid of honor. You stood next to each other, stiff as surf boards and hands clasped in front of you with the most serious faces.

“This is the most scoffs, eye rolls, and scowls I’ve ever seen in a photo shoot. C’mon, guys! You’re the maid of honor and the best man. And -” Arturo, the cameraman, paused, walking closer. “Respective eldest siblings to the bride and groom. You should be acting like - a family. Here, let’s just move a little closer,” he said, finding it easier to move you instead of Miguel, and moving you closer to him.

You stiffened even more at that and Miguel scoffed at the way you were acting, like he had some incurable disease.

“You, too, señor [sir]. Please step closer,” Arturo gently demanded.

That earned Arturo a scoff and a glare.

“Yeah, O’Hara. Move closer and stop wasting time,” you added, innocently.

“Thank you, señorita [miss],” Arturo replied happily, believing he had at least turned your attitude around when in reality, you were simply taking the opportunity to poke fun at Miguel. It was the only way to make the photo session bearable.

With an eye roll, Miguel stepped closer until his arm brushed against yours. “Better?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Better,” Arturo confirmed. “Though…” he trailed off, frowning.

“You look like a three-day old piece of bolillo [savory bread in MX + other Latin countries],” you said all too seriously. “Stiff.”

Arturo, bless his heart, turned away and attempted to hide his shock.

With a poker face, you turned to look at Miguel and found a scowl, his eyes on you already.

“A three-day old piece of bolillo?” he repeated, annoyance dripping from his mouth. “And what are you? A fresh, sweet, soft piece of cortadillo [a kind of pan dulce; Mexican pastry], I suppose?”

You snorted at that. “I’m flattered you think of me like that. Cortadillo is so good,” you replied, smirking softly.

“Dios mio [my God], I’m just trying to do my job and those two are talking about pan dulce [Mexican pastries],” Arturo complained from somewhere, thinking he was quiet enough that he wasn’t going to be heard, but he was.

Miguel and you stared at each other as the cameraman’s words of frustration rang in your heads. You held each other’s gazes and as much as you both wanted to keep the glares and scowls, Arturo made both of you smile and then burst into quiet laughter.

In the end, Arturo got his opportunity with that moment of laughter and managed to capture the best man and maid of honor smiling in each other’s presence before you both ran off to get other duties done once the photographs were done.

You shake your head from the memory and look up at the garden lights hanging over you, giving the area a whimsical look, before you walk further away from the door and into a less well-lit area.

You sigh deeply again, something you’ve found yourself doing too much lately. The comments from your pesky aunts and the conversation you overheard have caused you some irritation, but it’s not just that. You’ve been trying to ignore a problem that’s been weighting on you all day. You’ve tried not to let it dampen your mood, today being your sister’s wedding, and you had succeeded until now. On a normal day, those conversations with your aunts and the man’s words to Miguel would’ve mattered little to you, but with the big issue in your life right now, they’ve managed to put you in a bad mood.

The big issue?

You were forced to resign from your job two days ago, leaving you unemployed.

It wasn’t anything that you did, but rather what you refused to do that led to the decision. You grimace in disgust just thinking about it all over again. You started working at the company two years ago and everything was great with you rising up the ranks quickly due to your hard work and determination, but as you rose higher and higher, you were warned.

You were told to be cautious of your boss and his wandering hands. You did your best to avoid him on your own and always kept a professional attitude to set clear boundaries. Foolishly, you thought you were safe with two years in and no impropriety on your boss’s side, but you were wrong.

Two days ago, he cornered you in his office to make his move. Of course, you made it known you weren’t interested nor willing to do anything beyond what is professional. Even when you were promised a promotion if you “played” the game, you refused - something that angered your boss. Apparently, the disgusting man believed you’d accept his advances. Despite taking it to HR, nothing was done because of the position and status your boss holds within the company. You knew then that you needed to leave the company, so you did.

You don’t regret it. You’ll never give yourself away like that to some disgusting and horrible man, even if you’re unemployed now.

However, you don’t look forward to job searching and all that it entails. Thinking about it makes you feel stressed and even some anxiety. Then, there’s also the words from your ex-boss, his promise to make it hard for you to find a job within your field.

You wonder. Surely he doesn’t have that much power, right?

You hope not.

You down the rest of the drink, briefly thinking about how you should probably stop drinking by now, but the unexpected change, one you’re carrying on your own because you refused to tell your family about it with the wedding coming up, is weighing heavily on you now.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the door open, follow by footsteps. You recognize it’s not a woman’s, at least you don’t think so since there’s no sounds of heels, but either way, you can’t help but feel annoyed that someone has stepped out and taken your small moment of solitude. You just wanted a moment to yourself, but it seems that whoever stepped out, decided otherwise.

“Ah, you’re here, too?”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to face Miguel O’Hara. Of course, it had to be him of all people.

Miguel stands a few feet from the door, hands inside the pockets of his perfectly tailored pants while staring at you. For some reason, your annoyance grows at the way it hugs him in what women would say the “right way,” which you’re certain many women did comment on tonight, considering you caught many staring at him like he’s a piece of candy. You’re sure many are probably having little fantasies of him now; recalling how tall he is for a Mexican man, his wide shoulders only enhanced by his suit jacket, and the way his hair frames his chiseled face so well like God himself styled it for him.

And if they shook his hand, they may be thinking about how large and warm it was, how it felt against their own.

There may even be some women imagining making their parents suegros [parents-in-laws] and planning some elaborate wedding in their heads, thinking the bride today will be like a sister to them.

“Yes,” you simply reply, turning away again and making it known you don’t wish to talk. He can stay over there, on his own little spot, and let you be over here, unbothered.

“Needed some fresh air?”

Great.

“Yes.”

Miguel snorts, decreasing the distance between you. He’s still not in your space, but he’s significantly closer now. “One-word answers. You must be having a night.”

You don’t reply. Maybe if you don’t he’ll go back inside, but with your luck recently, doubtful.

“Did the comments from your aunts get to you?” he asks suddenly when you say nothing else.

“What comments?”

“You know very well which ones. I happened to be there, you know. When the first aunt went over, the second one, and then, the third and last one.”

You scoff. “Didn’t know you were a chismoso [gossiper; masculine noun].”

Miguel snorts again. “It’s not my fault they talk so loudly and I happened to be there.”

True on the talking too loud, but you still wish he hadn’t heard, just like you wish you hadn’t heard him being celebrated for the same things you were being pitied on.

“Right, and are you here to offer words of comfort, too?” you reply in a snappy tone. “Or, are you out here to celebrate how you were recommended to stay clear from commitment by your friend?”

Miguel scoffs. You really think he’s that kind of man?

“If you heard the conversation, surely you heard what I said,” he replies defensively turning his body to face you now. “I don’t agree with that mindset.”

“You know -” you step back and pinch the bridge of your nose for a second. “I don’t care. Can you just - leave me alone?” you snap, stepping away. You don’t care about the topic anyway, it’s not the reason why you’re truly upset. Miguel O’Hara can do whatever he wants with his life and your aunts can nag and pity you, you don’t care. What you care about is the fact you lost your job the way you did and that now you’re unemployed.

“No,” Miguel says, upset. “I’m not. You seem to think you have me all figured out, don’t you? Just because we’ve never been two to get along. I’m not that kind of man.”

“I don’t care what kind of man you are. This isn’t about you.”

Miguel steps forward, his body brushing against your arm making you turn to face him, too. You glare at him.

“This isn’t about me, but I’m receiving the brunt of your anger.”

“I’m not angry about what you think I am, alright? I could care less what my aunts said, what that man said to you, though it’s unfair, but it’s not what’s on my mind. So, do me a favor and drop it. Leave me alone. You’re not the center of my world,” you reply with a scoff before turning away from him.

“What a shame,” Miguel murmurs following you. He grabs your arm and pulls you back, his hand wrapping around your flesh with enough force to keep you still without hurting you. “¿Que te pasa [what’s the matter]? Why are you so upset if it’s not that, then?”

You tug at your arm, a fruitless attempt to free yourself since Miguel doesn’t let go.

“Answer the question,” he demands, those deep brown eyes looking straight at you.

“It’s none of your business,” you answer, still glaring at Miguel.

He scoffs, holding your gaze as you look at him like he’s the most disgusting thing your eyes could ever lay upon.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” he mumbles, his grip tightening around your arm slightly, tugging you closer to him. With narrowed eyes, he holds your gaze for a few seconds before images of your lips flash in his mind from the dance lessons.

He had never been that close to you before, never held nor touched you.

Miguel had never noticed the way your eyelashes framed your eyes, the shape of your lips, nor had he ever noticed your scent, a mixture of your very own essence and perfume. It’s the kind of scent that makes a man weak in the knees and wish for a closer inhale. No, Miguel had never noticed those things about you and it was to his great annoyance that not only had he noted them, but that those details had also made him feel weird afterwards.

Miguel felt so off that he had to make up the excuse about having a call to make. In reality, all he did was step out and take some fresh air, his mind boggled with the entire situation from the comments the dance instructor made about the two of you being in love and sharing passion to his little stunt after your two left feet comment and your payback, which left an ache on his foot, to the details he had never noticed about you. His mind was boggled and yet, you were the same as always with him; annoyed by, distant from, and uninterested in him.

And for some reason, it bothered him that day.

When he went back inside, he found you on the other side of the dance studio, looking closely at the couple and offering some advice to help them, ignoring his presence. Even when the four of you met up at the parking lot once again after the dance lesson, your attitude was the same. Your sister and Gabriel asked if either of you were interesting in grabbing something to eat, but you declined so fast and stated you had other things to do before the wedding, “maid of honor duties” you called them.

He watched with a scowl as you got in your car and left, only having said bye to the couple while barely giving him a glance of acknowledgement despite the conversation you had just had about making things work for the sake of your sister and Gabriel.

Of course, Miguel declined the invitation, too. He was in no mood to be third wheeling and he did have some things to do for work, so he, too, left with thoughts of your annoying self on his mind.

He eventually placated his thoughts with work, including dealing with his team and the fact that his current assistant put in their four weeks. Thankfully, he still has some time left before his assistant leaves, which he hopes is enough time to find someone to fill in the position. Either way, his work helped him set his thoughts about you aside that day.

Now, Miguel pushes past his thoughts and focuses on you, still holding your arm.

“And what of it?” you reply to his comment about you being a brat, still glaring at him so fiercely and angrily about whatever you’re upset about, proving Miguel you can be such a brat sometimes.

For two seconds Miguel has a thought - bending you over his knee and teaching you a lesson to tame that bratty attitude of yours. Then, his brain betrays him and he imagines what you’d sound like if he did. Would you still be a little brat when his heavy palm makes contact with your rear, or would you whimper and -

“You’re so upset,” Miguel says in an almost breathless way, his mind blanking for a second. “If it’s not your aunts’ comments, then what is it? It must be something of importance, if it has you like this on your sister’s wedding day,” Miguel adds, trying to focus on the moment at hand and not on whatever the hell his brain is going on about. He decides, quickly, that he’s probably had a few too many tequila shots. That’s probably why his brain is acting up. Surely.

“As I said earlier, it’s none of your business,” you reply, once again trying to free your arm, but to no avail. The giant man has you rooted to his side.

“Bullshit,” Miguel replies. His brother married into your family and your sister into his, that makes the two of you something now, doesn’t it? You’re tied for life now, for better or worse, in this way thanks to your siblings. And, the two of you did agree to get along for their sake.

“No te metas en lo que no te importa [don’t get involved in what doesn’t bother you],” you snap. “Mind your business. We may have agreed to be civil, but that doesn’t mean we’ll be besties.”

“As if, princesita [little princess],” Miguel responds with a scoff. “I wouldn’t be able to take your little attitude for two hours, even if I was paid, much less be ‘besties’ with you.”

“We have that in common, at least. I wouldn’t spend a day with you, even for a million dollars,” you reply, even though you could really use a million dollars, especially now.

Miguel smirks, amused by your response, and pulls you closer. “Not even if I paid you two million?”

“Not even five.”

Lies, lies, lies. You wouldn’t be worrying about being unemployed if you had even just one million dollars in the bank right now.

Miguel shrugs. “Maybe it’s too little, they’re little numbers after all,” he replies with a cocky smirk, for some reason bragging about his wealth to you now, something he’s never done before to anyone, but then again, his brain is not working accordingly right now.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. You know Miguel is a CEO for a company you’ve never bothered to learn the name of, so you’re not surprised he has money, but saying five million dollars is “too little” is aggravating, and kind of shocking.

“Whatever, let go of me. Now,” you demand.

Miguel now scoffs at your demanding tone as if he couldn’t easily throw you over his shoulder and carry you off, or pin you against a wall.

“¿Qué tal si te digo que no? ¿Qué vas a hacer entonces, princesita? [What if I tell you no? What are you doing then, princess?]” Miguel replies, pulling you closer, so much closer his expensive cologne surrounds you.

You breathe it in, subtly of course. It’s rich, warm, and woody mixed in with his own scent. It’s the kind that sends a pool of warmth to your very core if allowed to inhale straight from a man’s neck with your nose pressed to his sensitive and warm flesh. You freeze for a second, the very thought almost makes you grimace, the fact that you’ve thought of such thing with Miguel of all men.

“You’re gonna slam your foot on mine again like the other day?” he asks mockingly, bringing you back to your senses.

“And mess your pretty, expensive shoes?”

Miguel snorts. “I can easily replace them.”

“So, you want me to slam my foot on yours? Is that what you’re saying?” you reply, raising an eyebrow.

Miguel grins, leaning closer, so much closer. He continues to hold your gaze, holding you still.

You scoff, your gaze unwavering.

You’re such a little brat, Miguel thinks again, his hand tightening around your arm just a tad more.

“What? Can’t make up your mind now?” you ask with a smug smile.

He scowls, pulling you so much closer. Your breath fans his face and he finds himself growing still when he feels it against lips especially. He swallows deeply while holding your gaze, your scent filling his nostrils and making him lean almost instinctively.

“You can ruin the shoes, I’ll simply buy new ones. I’ll even get you some pretty heels for your trouble. ¿Trato [Deal]?” he asks quietly, his gaze flickering to your lips for a second.

And God, maybe it really is all the drinks you’ve both had tonight because you lean closer, too.

Suddenly, it feels like two rocks rubbing against each other, a spark of fire made beneath the moonlight.

“¿Que pasa [What’s wrong]? Cat got your tongue?” Miguel whispers with a smirk.

“No. I was just thinking about the color I'd like the heels,” you reply, sarcastically.

“Ah, the color. Don't worry, you can choose whatever color you like. Whatever brand. Saint Laurent, Burberry, Gucci…”

You snort. “Didn't know you were so giving, O’Hara.”

“You don't know me” Miguel replies, tilting his head a little.

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a smirk that makes Miguel's heart skip a beat. He leans slightly closer, further decreasing the distance between your faces.

“I’m a man that likes to give - to provide,” Miguel continues, his hand tightening around your arm, his gaze flickering to your lips once more.

“Ah, interesting. You're the tree that keeps on giving, hm?”

“Such a smartass,” Miguel mumbles, eyes narrowing and meeting yours again. “One of these days that mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”

“I can't wait,” you reply defiantly.

Miguel scowls, your little defiance stirring something in him once more. He huffs, eyes moving to your lips yet again, not thinking straight. All he’s suddenly thinking about is closing the distance and shutting your mouth - with his own. He thinks about his mouth pressed against yours, about slipping his tongue in and swirling it around yours to taste you, to make you whine.

Meanwhile, you look at him, noticing his gaze on your lower face. You find yourself doing the same, your eyes landing on his full lips specifically. You silently wonder, despite yourself, what they’d feel like against yours and against your skin. The thought creates a fluttering feeling inside your chest, one that Miguel shares.

His heart races, his mind clouded with these strange thoughts. Miguel thinks about leaning in all the way and doing it, kissing you once and for all to satisfy a hunger and craving he’s suddenly overwhelmed with.

And he would've, if only the door leading to the garden hadn’t suddenly swung open before you both register voices.

You both pull away instantly, staring at each other like two deer caught in headlights. The realization hits the two of you like a ton of feathers at once, the truth echoing in your heads over and over again.

You were going to kiss.

You were going to kiss.

You were going to kiss.

The only thing that breaks Miguel and you from your shock are the sudden intimate noises, tearing your gazes from each other to see what’s the matter. It’s then that you both see a couple making out against the wall, totally unaware that Miguel and you are there due to the poor lighting.

Seeing the intimacy and hearing their noises of passion is all you need before you walk past Miguel, fleeing the garden area wordlessly to pull yourself together.

Miguel doesn’t try to stop you, not even when you brush past him. He stands there for a second or two before he, too, walks off in the opposite direction, hands clenched.

It’s not until you find yourself utterly alone once more that you stop walking. You stare at the ground, your heart racing while your mind plays the last few minutes over and over again. It makes no sense. There’s no way Miguel was about to kiss you, right? You huff in frustration and begin to pace back and forth, one hand clenched tightly around the glass you brought out with you as you try to make sense of the situation.

“Alcohol,” you say quickly to yourself, nodding. “Too much alcohol. It makes people do stupid things.” You nod once more, slowly calming yourself as you repeat this in your head.

At last, you stop pacing when you find reason for that near mistake.

Alcohol, which messes with your brain. Nothing more.

“Hey!”

Startled, you jump and let out a small gasp before turning. You find your mom, happily smiling.

“Come on! What are you doing out here all alone, mija [my daughter]?”

“Just - taking some fresh air,” you answer, walking over to her.

“Your sister and Gabrielito are about to cut the cake. They were wondering where you were,” your mom informs you, offering her arm to you.

You smile and accept your mom’s arm, embracing her comforting presence as you both head back inside the party.

“They were also looking for Miguel. You haven’t seen him, have you?” your mom asks, nearly making you trip.

“N - No, I haven’t,” you lie, clearing your throat and checking your shoe to pretend something is wrong with it to make up for you nearly tripping. “He’s probably talking with the men. They all seem like big fans of him.”

Your mom smiles, nodding. She hums softly as you both enter the venue again, the kind of hum that only moms can muster when they know something you don’t.

“I’m sure Miguelito is somewhere around here. Maybe he needed some fresh air, too,” your mom continues, patting your forearm as you fully enter the reception room now. “Let’s go get some cake.”

After eating cake and making toasts with your family and the guests, you stick near your parents’ side for the rest of the night, as a distraction to forget what almost happened earlier, until it’s time to see your sister and Gabriel off. You watch next to your parents as the newlyweds walk out of the venue, saying bye to the guests and other family members until it’s the immediate families’ turn at the end.

You hug your sister and Gabriel goodbye when it’s your turn, wishing them a great time and congratulating them yet again.

At last, the couple makes it to the car and gets settled. You smile softly as they wave goodbye one more time before the car departs. Watching the car grow smaller and smaller, the realization that your baby sister is married dawns on you. In the blink of an eye, she grew up and turned into a wonderful young woman. You briefly recall when she was a little girl, when she used to follow you everywhere because she wanted to do everything with you. And now, she’s all grown up and starting a new life with the love of her life.

A few feet away from you, Miguel does the same with a thoughtful expression on his face. He can’t believe Gabriel is now a married man, that he’s all grown up. He sighs, wondering where time went before he turns sideways, finding you staring in the direction of the car. He has no doubt you’re having similar thoughts like his, the two of you being the eldest siblings.

Sensing someone’s gaze, you turn, only to meet Miguel’s eyes. You stare at each other for a few seconds, the moment at the garden flashing through your minds like the highlights of a video with one particular part in replay: that moment when Miguel leaned forward and his gaze fell on your lips before you allowed yourself the same with his.

Your senses, both Miguel’s and yours, are overwhelmed in seconds. You easily recall each other’s scents, the warmth from your bodies, and the angry energy that slowly turned into something different due to the shoe talk before you fell into whatever that was at the end.

You blink at last and swallow deeply, pushing the memory away. You scoff at yourself, still holding Miguel’s gaze.

Damn alcohol and the things it makes you do and feel. Right?

You finally look away and walk off to meet your parents, not sparing Miguel another glance.

Miguel’s eyes follow you until you disappear from his sight. He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh, frustrated. He doesn’t even know if it’s at you or himself, or both. Or, maybe he’s just exhausted form the wedding planning and the actual wedding activities.

He doesn’t know anymore, just like he doesn’t know what he was thinking back at the garden. He turns away and scowls at himself. Okay, fine. He knew exactly what he was thinking: kissing and tasting you.

“Miguel-”

“What?” Miguel snaps, turning. He clears his throat when he finds Daniel, the man from earlier who was boasting about being divorced and advising Miguel to stay single for a while longer. He sighs and shakes his head. “Forgive me, Daniel. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s alright. You’re probably tired from the wedding. These things are always exhausting. I was just going to ask if you are interested in joining me and some of the other guys to a bar. It’s still early,” Daniel says before three other young men reach them.

Knowing the men, Miguel knows what kind of night they hope to have; one with no attachments but filled with carnal pleasure.

Miguel shakes his head. “Thank you for the invitation, but I’m too tired. And besides, I still have to wrap up some things here regarding the venue. You guys have fun.”

The other men boo him and one even dares to call him “old fashioned” since they know Miguel isn’t interested in those type of nights with strangers. They eventually walk away, leaving Miguel alone once more. He shakes his head as he sees them pull out of the parking lot before fishing for his own car keys inside his pockets.

The truth is, Miguel has no tasks related to the venue left. A cleaning crew was hired to take care of everything so neither families would have to worry about it. The food situation was handled and the gifts have been collected to be stored for now until the couple comes back from their honeymoon.

All Miguel needs to do is wish everyone a good night and head home. That’s it. Yet… His thoughts are a storm and you’re at the center of it, the culprit.

His gaze, despite himself, searches for you. He finally spots you several feet away talking with a man, one he doesn’t know personally. Miguel watches the interaction, noticing the closeness and the way you seem at ease with the individual. Hell, you’re even laughing at something the man says.

He looks away when the man places a hand on your forearm while talking, opting to gaze at the venue’s front gardens with trimmed bushes and perfectly aligned flowers.

Miguel suddenly realizes it. He’s stalling, but why? He turns to look your way again, discreetly, and the need to talk to you suddenly hits him. He needs to talk to you about what almost happened at the garden earlier. So, Miguel takes a few steps your way.

As he approaches you, he’s unsure of what he’d even say. I’m sorry for almost kissing you? Miguel cringes internally. Should he even bring it up? Talking about it makes it more real. It means acknowledging that that almost happened between you along with admitting some level of vulnerability, something neither of you have ever shared with each other.

He suddenly finds himself standing next to you and the man, his large strides making the walk a short one. The man stops talking and looks over at him, a look of confusion at Miguel’s sudden appearance. On the other hand, to Miguel’s annoyance, you give him a look of nonchalance.

“Excuse me,” Miguel starts, acknowledging the man. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but I need a word with Ms. Y/N.”

The man nods, looking somewhat disappointed. “I see. I’ll give you two a moment,” the man says despite you beginning to protest.

You watch the man, a son of one of your dad’s friends from work, walk away. Slowly, you turn to face Miguel, keeping a neutral expression. “Yes?”

“We need to talk about what happened,” Miguel says quietly, meeting your gaze.

“What happened?” you reply, raising an eyebrow.

Miguel scoffs, his eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t give me that attitude.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“At the garden,” Miguel continues through gritted teeth in disbelief at your nonchalance.

You hum, tilting your head. “Nothing happened,” you respond.

“Are you kiddi-” Miguel starts but stops, his frustration mounting. He lowers his voice. “Don’t play stupid with me, princesita [little princess]. We both know you’re far from it.”

“You know what I know?” you ask quietly. “There’s nothing to discuss. Don’t make a storm in a glass of water, okay?” With that, you walk around him.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done talking,” Miguel replies, following you.

“As far as I’m concern, we have nothing to talk about. So, I’ll see you around, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, ending the conversation as you head to your car.

“Dammit,” Miguel murmurs, still following you.

You quickly unlock your car and get inside, slamming the door close. You start the car even when you see Miguel standing next to it, trying to talk to you. Sighing, you consider rolling your window down for a few seconds to let him talk, but at the same time you don’t wish to hear him out. A part of you knows that talking about what nearly happened will make it feel important when it’s not. Or, at least you’ve made yourself believe it’s not.

You shift the car’s gear, ready to drive off, but at the last second, you roll your window down. Facing forward and with your foot on the brake, you speak. “We’ve both had drinks. Alcohol makes people do things that they wouldn’t do when they’re fully sober, even with a little bit in their system. There’s nothing to discuss nor explain. Nothing happened and that’s what matters. I’m certainly not making a big deal out of it, nor have I been offended by what nearly happened, so if that’s what you’re trying to do - apologize - save it. Have a good night,” you state firmly before driving off, leaving a frustrated Miguel in the parking lot.

Through your rear view mirror, you look at him one more time. You find him watching you drive off, his arms at his sides in a stance that lets you detect his frustration clearly. At last, you look away, certain you’ve handled the situation accordingly.

A/N: Hiii, I'm sorry for how long it took me to update, but life got crazy in August due to a family member's death and then sickness. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed part 2! When I wrote part 1, I wasn't planning on this being a multiple parts fic, but with writing part 2, I guess I am now.

I'm unsure of how long this will be. Tbh, I'm hoping for it to be short 😭🙏🏼 Like, 10 chapters or so? Maybe less. I need to sit down and plan accordingly! As you can probably guess, this will transition into a CEO!Miguel x Assistant!female reader who are also now connected because of your sister and Gabriel, so I'm just letting you guys know the forced proximity will increase! 🙂‍↕️

Thank you for reading, and I hope you're having a great day/night!!

Alondra❤️

p.s. I have attached my side Spotify account in case you guys are interested in keeping up with the music I listened to while writing this chapter.

for the people that asked me to notify them for part 2: @vera4luv @safixiovi

[fastandcarlos]

Wholesome Weekends : ̗̀➛ Alex Albon

summary: a rare weekend away brings some quality time for alex and y/n to make a few more memories

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant and 90,486 others

ynusername: making the most of the next few days with you, can’t wait to have you to myself for the whole weekend ❤️

8,391 comments

alex_albon: can’t wait to spend every day waking up next to you

username1: my heart can’t take how cute these two are

username2: do we get to see alex’s pov of photo 1??

logansargeant: can’t wait to hear all about your trip ☺️

landonorris: can you stop making all us single people feel even more lonely please

ynusername: @/landonorris maybe one day you’ll find your own alex albon too 😂

username3: can’t wait for the spam to start

username4: have you ever seen a guy more in love 🤔

carmenmmundt: promise to compare trip notes in miami next week?

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt yessssss! hope you and george have the best time 🩷

username5: we want to hear all about the trip too!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 483,300 others

alex_albon: adventuring with my girl…could life get any better? ✈️

48,102 comments

landonorris: you could be adventuring with me instead 🤷🏻

alex_albon: @/landonorris my question was if life could get better, not worse 😂

username6: lando forever getting rinsed as the single friend lmao

username7: if you’re ever looking for a third wheel…I’m here 👋🏻

ynusername: i definitely don’t think my life could get any better my love 🥰

alex_albon: @/ynusername ❤️❤️❤️❤️

oscarpiastri: don’t forget to visit that cafe I suggested!

username8: oh to fly anywhere in the world with alex albon 🫠

username9: y/n forever getting those perfect boyfriend angles of alex

danielricciardo: these photos are almost alex.jpg worthy bro

alex_albon: @/danielricciardo inspired by the best 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 738,595 others

alex_albon: first things first, a quick pit stop to visit our babies 🥺🩷

78,499 comments

maxverstappen1: now this is my kinda content!!

username10: alex + cats = the perfect photo

username11: I want to be held just like how alex holds his babies

oscarpiastri: you look happier to see the cats then they do you 😂

alex_albon: @/oscarpiastri they were just posing for the camera 📸

username12: I love how they still prioritise the cats and shower them with so much love

ynusername: I didn’t want to move with all their cuddles 😭

username13: can you adopt me like you adopt all your fur babies??

estebanocon: how have you never introduced me to these cuties before 😣

username14: okay but who has cuter cats…max or alex?

alex_albon: @/username14 🙋🏽🙋🏽🙋🏽

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, carmenmmundt and 103,853 others

ynusername: I’d let you take me anywhere as long as I’m with you ☺️

22,939 comments

landonorris: eurgh enough with the soppy posts now

ynusername: @/landonorris you’ve got a whole weekend of this to enjoy my friend ☺️

username15: the holding hands, I repeat, the holding hands

alex_albon: the feeling is mutual babe 💕

username16: idek which of those photos has the better view

logansargeant: two hands on the wheel at all times, did you learn nothing from your driving instructor??

alex_albon: @/logansargeant you saw nothing, my hands are on 10 and 2 always 😂

username17: not logan scolding alex like he’s the perfect driver

username18: ultimate passenger princess mode activated

charles_leclerc: how come you’ve never offered to drive me around like this?

alex_albon: @/charles_leclerc I’ll hold your hand whenever you want sweet cheeks

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and 628,940 others

alex_albon: exploring with my favourite is an exhausting job but I wouldn’t have it any other way 🥰

63,493 comments

username19: pls lord let me have a boyfriend as sweet as alex

danielricciardo: you’re giving us high performing athletes a bad name sitting down on the job 😂

alex_albon: @/danielricciardo ever been a walk with y/n before?? she’s like a machine 😅

username20: I never want this weekend of photos to end

username21: y/n are you willing to loan alex out to a single gal pls?

pierregasly: damn make sure you get those leg muscles flexing brother

logansargeant: don’t let the boss see you sat down and relaxing 😉

alex_albon: @/logansargeant this is harder work than anything we do I swear

username22: they’re just everything

username23: these photos are making my heart so happy

ynusername: hurry up and catch up with me loser rather than posting on instagram 🏃🏻‍♀️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 93,504 others

ynusername: to anyone from williams looking at our weekend, I promise I’m still working him hard 💪🏻

9,408 comments

username24: you’re not convincing anyone y/n 😂

username25: poor alex never truly gets a day off

landonorris: what exercises were you doing? a lot of staring I imagine

ynusername: @/landonorris mind your damn business 🤫

username26: who knew gym alex was so attractive 😅

username27: if you ever need a workout buddy alex, I’ll sign up for free

alex_albon: best workout partner ever 🤩

maxverstappen1: true dedication to the job there buddy

carmenmmundt: george had me in the gym this morning too 😅 the perks of dating an f1 driver

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt usually I’d complain…but the sights I got to see this morning were pretty cool 🫠

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by logansargeant, carlossainz55 and 548,605 others

alex_albon: like any good weekend plenty of food has been demolished ❤️

47,963 comments

ynusername: as handsome as you are…that food was something else ☺️

alex_albon: @/ynusername agreed!! thanks @/oscarpiastri for the recommendation

oscarpiastri: @/alex_albon I knew you guys would love it

username28: now that’s the smile of a guy who knows his food

username29: how is everyone sleeping how cute y/n looks in that photo

lance_stroll: wherever this is dude you need to tell me!

charles_leclerc: you gonna make weight in miami after consuming that?? 😂

alex_albon: @/charles_leclerc honestly its touch and go

username30: I love how much of a foodie alex is…a guy after my own heart

yukitsunoda0511: I still need to cook for you guys! I’ll show you a proper meal

alex_albon: @/yukitsunoda0511 that’s an offer that I could never say no to 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, danielricciardo and 78,390 others

ynusername: sun, sea and 🤫, the perfect end to the perfect weekend ☺️💕

29,503 comments

danielricciardo: now that’s my kinda caption 😂

username31: y/n wtf I thought you were better than this

landonorris: I really hope you’re not implying what I think you’re implying

username32: farewell to y/n’s pg era

yukitsunoda0511: someone might have to fill me in here 😣

username33: @/yukitsunoda0511 no don’t let anyone take your adorable innocence from you

alex_albon: thank you for the most incredible weekend bub 💕

alex_albon: ps thank you for making my back look insane in all these photos 🔥

ynusername: @/alex_albon I did nothing…you can thank my handsome model 🥰

username34: how can two people be so beautiful

iamrebeccad: my girl you are looking insane 🔥

logansargeant: nice to see all that time in the gym paying off 😂

username35: @/logansargeant doesn’t sound like they’re just working out in the gym either

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux and 179,493 others

ynusername: and it all got too much for little alex albon 💤

37,592 comments

georgerussell63: hahahahahah y/n you’re the best!!

oscarpiastri: and the award for best caption goes to…

username36: not y/n exposing herself for watching f1 memes 😂

landonorris: why you gotta do me dirty like this 💔

ynusername: @/landonorris stop being a walking meme then loser

alex_albon: thank you for making sure you capture all my flattering angles 😂🩷

ynusername: @/alex_albon 🫡🫡🫡

logansargeant: idk which I prefer the photos or the caption

username37: this is hands down my fave photo from the weekend

username38: y/n and alex forever making lando feel single is the best

danielricciardo: y/n stop! you’re coming across funnier than me 🥺

ynusername: @/danielricciardo I could never steal your crown king 👑

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

hi saffy…can i request again? something fluff for a change. (you’ve drowned me with all the super hot hot hot smuts and now im swimming with—ahem..nevermind that) 😅

you know the tiktok trend of s/o leaving and their partner saying ‘i love you’ but the other is not saying back (or vice versa)? like they’re all pouty and demanding to have the other say it back or asking if they did something wrong..one vid even has teasingly repeats ‘i love you’ over and over again until their s/o gives in laughing.

how about the COD men (tf141, lv, konig) saying ‘i love you’ but never getting any in response as a prank?

only if you’re keen for it. please and thank you. 🥰

Yesss!!! I'm happy to do this one🙂❤️ (promise I'm still workin on your other one😉)

141 + LV & König x Reader, Where You Don't Say I Love You Back

Warnings: swearing, MILD smut reference, fluff

Simon Ghost Riley-

“Alright, love, I’m headed out. I shouldn’t be gone too long.” Simon said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

“Have a good time with Johnny!” You gave your husband a warm smile, before looking back to the book you were reading. 

Simon paused for a moment and stared at you. His eyes narrowed at you, as you attempted to pay him no mind. You feigned ignorance as you turned to address him. 

“Everything okay, babe?”

He said nothing in reply, only continued to stare at you, crossing his arms.

"Simon?" You swallowed thickly. He was doing his best to intimidate you, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't working.

He didn't take his eyes away from yours, as his brow furrowed slightly, giving you a menacing stare.

The two of you stood like that for the better part of two minutes, before you relented on your little prank. “Okay okay! Enough of that staring, it's creepy. I love you too Simon.”

“Damn fucking right you do.” He gave a satisfied smirk, before leaving.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

“So just milk, right?” Johnny had asked, as he unbuckled his seat belt. The two of you were in the supermarket parking lot. Johnny had offered to go in quickly, as you only needed one thing.

“Yep, thanks babe!” You smiled, before looking back to your phone.

“Alright. Be right back. I love you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek before opening the car door.

He was halfway out the door, when he realized you weren’t planning on saying it back. “I love you.”

You looked up from your phone, the same smile still plastered on your face. “I know, thanks again!”

Johnny's face held a look of astonishment, as he moved to tickle at your sides. You squirmed in your seat, a fit of giggles erupting from your lips. “I SAID, I LOVE YOU, DAMNIT!”

You squealed as he continued his attack on your sides, before gasping out “I love you too Johnny!”

“There we go, lass. Was that so hard?” He had a mischievous smirk lining his lips. He pulled away his arms and crossed them against his chest arrogantly. 

“Screw you Johnny.” You chuckled, throwing an empty water bottle you found on the floor at him. 

“You love me though, you just said it yourself.” He quipped before stepping out of the car fully. “Next time you pull that shite with me, you’ll be in for worse than tickles."

König-

You’d seen the various tik toks, of lovers not telling their partners they loved them back, and were curious to see how your boyfriend König would react.

"Hey, Kö. I'll be back in just a bit, going out for a drink with Kate." You pressed a kiss to your husband's cheek. 

König tore his eyes away from the computer screen, and gave you a small smile. "Have a good time, Maus, I love you." 

"Thanks babe!" You bit your lip slightly, trying to prevent yourself from ruining the prank.

You turned after giving him a half smile and made your way to the bar. 

König sat in silence for a moment after you left, reflecting. Had he done something wrong? Why didn't you say it back?

He started to feel terrible and tried to think of what he could've done to upset you. Nothing came to mind immediately, but König knew he had to do something to make it up to you, whatever he'd done. 

He set out your silky pajamas on the bed, and got out the makings for a bubble bath, as he awaited your text alerting him you were on your way home. 

Later that night, as you walked through your front door, you were immediately hit with an aroma of lavender. You recognized it right away as the bubble bath you loved so much. "Kö? Baby, I'm home."

You made your way up to the bathroom, to find your boyfriend hunched over the tub, checking the temperature of the water. "Schat! You're home!" 

You lifted your brows in question as you took in the scene before you. "What's this?"

"Oh.. I wanted to make it up to you for making you upset. Water is ready for you." He gestured to the bubble filled tub, not fully meeting your eyes. 

"Wait.. upset with you? Why would I be upset with you?"

"Well…earlier.. you didn't say it back. So I thought I'd done something.. wrong." He looked down to his feet. 

You couldn't help the small chuckle that emitted. "König, no! No, no, that was some stupidly horribly prank, I wasn't mad at you. Gosh, now I feel terrible! I love you so much, baby." 

You dropped your purse and moved to wrap your arms around his waist. König let out a deep breath as he chuckled. "I love you too, Maus. Now get in this bath. I believe I'm the one who's owed a massage now."

John Price-

You and Price were cuddled on the couch together, his fingers tracing your sides softly. 

"I love you, Y/N." He said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You turned to him and gave a warm smile before turning back to your TV show. 

Price blinked a few times, realizing you weren't planning on saying it back. He gave your side a playful pinch, causing you to let out a shriek. "I said, I love you. Nothing to say in return?" 

"Oh! How silly of me. Thank you sweetheart." You turned to your husband and batted your eyelashes at him sweetly.

Price looked exasperated at your words, his mouth dropping open slightly. "Oh hell no." 

He grabbed your waist, and threw you over his shoulder, making his way up the stairs to your bedroom. 

"Wait wait! I'm sorry, I love you too!" You called out, trying to squirm from his grasp. 

"Too late for that, sweetheart. Now get on all fours on the bed like a good girl." Price said as he threw you onto the bed. The slap that came down on your ass cheek told you that you'd be in for quite the night. 

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

"I miss you, babe." Kyle's voice came through your cell phone. "I'll be home soon enough though."

"Unless it's yesterday, it's not soon enough." You chuckled, picking at some chipped paint in your kitchen table. "I miss you too."

"Well I gotta get going, I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you so much Y/N."

Your cheeks started to heat up at the sincerity of his words. "Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Night Ky."

You hung up the call and let out a giggle. You'd seen the tik toks dozens of times where people didn't say I love you back and were curious to see what Kyle's reaction would be. 

Sure enough, seconds after you'd hung up. Kyle's name appeared on your phone. He was calling back. 

"Hey, are you all good?" You asked as you answered the call.  

"No, I'm not all good." Kyle huffed in mock annoyance. "Forgetting something?"

"Oh? Is it our anniversary? I could've sworn that it was next month."

Kyle let out an amused chuckle. "Seriously, babe. I love you."

Unable to continue on with your little prank you relented. "I love you too Kyle, always."

"Good girl, now we can hang up properly."

Alejandro-

"Thank you so much for putting all this together, mi amor. The guys are grateful too." Alejandro pressed a kiss to your hand as he gathered the freshly made food from the counter. "I love you."

You were currently hosting a few members of Los Vaqueros at your home to watch a soccer game, and had just cooked up a few entrees to satiate their hungry bellies. 

"Of course, let me clean up and I'll come out in a moment." You turned back to the dishes in the sink, before hearing the dishes being set on the counter behind you.

"What, you not love me too?" Alejandro asked, coming up behind you, pulling you into him. He nipped your ear playfully, causing you to giggle. 

You squirmed in his firm grip as he continued to talk, mocking your voice. "Oh Alejandro. I love you too, you're the best husband in the whole world."

You erupted in a fit of laughter as he began squeezing at your sides. " I. Love. You. Too." You wheezed out. 

"Now was that so hard?" He teased, pressing a kiss to your jaw. 

He took your hand leading you into the family room, and stopped abruptly when all the men in the room started chanting out, "We love you too, Alejandro!"

Rodolfo-

"Okay babe, I'm headed out to the store, I'll be back in an hour or so." You called out to your husband, who came to walk you to the door.

"Alright, let me know when you're on your way back, and I'll get dinner started. Drive safe, I love you." He gave you a chaste kiss as you opened the front door.

"Thanks love, see you in a bit!" You smiled before walking out to your car. 

Rodolfo moved to the door before realizing you hadn't said you loved him back. He quickly grabbed his sandals and ran out to your car.

You were just about to pull away, when your husband came running up to the driver's side window. He knocked on it, letting you know to roll it down. 

"Yes? Forget to add something to the list?" You turned to him, your brows furrowed.

"No, but you forgot something." He waited expectantly for you to reply, but you sat confused. 

"I love you, Y/N." He repeated, putting emphasis on his words. 

You let out a giggle, a smile breaking on your face. "I love you too, sappy bastard. Now move or I'll run over your toes."

You gave him a peck before pulling away. Rodolfo shook his head, laughing to himself. He got himself one spicy partner.

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

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞

Pairing: childhood bff!Chan x fem!reader (non-idol au) Word count: 3.4k Genre: Fluff 🥰💖, Smut 🔥❤️ (angst if you squint) Warning: Weddings... (lord help me), pro best friend chan, mentions of familial favoritism, semi rough sex? , soft dom!chan, sweet name calling(babygirl, princess), slightly jealous chan, comfort, lord someone teach me how to make better warnings, i think thats all? (someone needs to teach me to proof read.)

A/N: THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU <3 I'm working on improving the formating of my works so >.> bare with me if some of the stuff doesnt translate over well on different devices, especially the text message part >.>

When you were young, you often got compared to your sister, your sister who loved pink and poodles and tutu skirts. She was younger than you by a year and yet, she always out did you, always was a step ahead, always beating you in everything. Yeah, you loved her, but the pain of comparison drove a wedge between you two.

You were 5 when you met Chan. He was very silly, always playing games and smiling, you happened to attend the same school and after he stood up for you against an older boy at the park you two were inseparable.

Chan, who sang for you. Chan, who shared his food with you. Chan, who taught you how to dance. Chan, who teased you for acting like a nerd. Chan, who was your best friend.

Chan was sitting on the couch in your apartment, watching a cringey romantic comedy with you when your phone rang. You gave it a glance and cringed, your grandmother's name appeared on the screen with a image of the woman with an almost plastic smile.

"You should probably answer." Chan said, "Would make it worse if you didn't."

You gave your best friend a side eye. "Nah really?"

He laughed lightly as you answered the phone.

"Hi, honey, you are joining us this year for the whole family get-together aren't you?" The old woman's voice came through the speaker to your ear.

"Of course Grandma-" You started.

"That's what you said last year, and you didn't come."

You made a face, the reason you hadn't gone was because you were sick. "Things happen Grandma."

"And the year before that?"

You pursed your lips, glancing at Chan. You weren't avoiding your family really you were just... avoiding the conflict that ensued when you were with your family. And by conflict you meant the constant onslaught of questions and disappointed looks you got whenever your family asked about anything you were doing with your life.

"And anyway, it's been so long since we've heard from you, we want to see how you've been, keep the family together, bring new people in along the way." Your grandma sounded so happy.

"What do you mean?" You were confused by the "bring new people".

"Oh dear. Did your sister not tell you?" Your grandma sighed, "She has a surprise for us this year."

You sighed. Your little sister always was one better than you, or two, or ten...

"Y/n?" Your grandma's voice brought you out of your daze and Chan leaned forward looking at your face.

"I'll be there this year grandma, I promise."

"Alright. Bye bye honey."

"Bye..." You said in a small voice hanging up.

Chan smiled slightly at you. "So?"

"Help."

His eyes widened slightly before darting around. "You know I really would if I could read minds but it's awfully sad I cant."

You rolled your eyes at the man. "My family dislikes everything I do."

"And?" Chan leaned back, raising a brow.

"They don't dislike you."

"What are you trying to do here?"

You clasped your hands and gave your best friend the most innocent pure pleading gaze. "Come with me, so they won't hate on me."

Chan made a face. "No-"

"I'll pay for the wifi in your apartment for the next two- four months." You grabbed your friend's big hands in yours, "Please!"

"Just because they don't hate me doesn't mean they won't hate on you." Chan said exasperated.

"BUT they'll find someone to compare to you so I won't have to be put down by this." You give him a pleading look.

"Y/n. I've done a lot of dum shit before this is my limit."

"Channie!" You begged. "Come on! I'll pay your netflix subscription too!"

Chan groaned. "Fine! You're making me feel guilty."

"AH! You're the best Chan." You smiled hugging you friend.

He rolled his eyes and patted your hair. "You're lucky netflix is expensive."

So there you were dinner, with your family, your grandmother quick to jump and compliment Chan and compare your father and uncles to him when they were his age. Everyone complimenting your sister and asking her what the big news was. Your dad looked about ready to leave when your younger sister stood. tapping her spoon against her glass gently.

You looked at her, she smiled at you, a smile you couldn't read.

"I have a big announcement to make." She looked at her boyfriend. "Well.. we have a big announcement to make."

"What is it dear?" Your mother asked.

"We're getting married!" Your little sister jumped and smiled. Everyone started clapping.

The initial excitement and congratulations ended, leaving a gently chattering at the table.

Cue your grandmother.

"Y/n dear, what about you?"

Silence.

Everyone looked at you.

Your sister sighed slightly. "Granny, you can't pester her. Give her time, she might get married before 40."

A soft laugh rippled over the table, you stared at your little sister. She smiled innocently, your fist clenched under the table. So what if she was younger and prettier and more successful. You made a move to excuse yourself but Chan grabbed your fist under the table, you relaxed your grip and his fingers slipped between yours and squeezed gently. Your heart skipped a beat and you looked up at your best friend, smiling.

Her Majesty the Queen 01:53 She was obviously out to get you.

Butt Hunter 01:53 I agree

🐶 01:54 Go to the wedding in white.

Baby Chick 01:54 💀

. Me 01:54 I'm NOT going to my sister's wedding in white!

Beanie boy 01:54 He's giving real solutions here.

Squirrel 01:55 Just don't go?

Bread. 01:55 All you do is avoid conflict.

Squirrel 01:55 NO I DONT

Noodle Spirit Survivor. 01:56 shut up. it's 2 in the fucking morning.

. Me 01:56 Sorry Chan, we'll shut up now.

Beanie boy 01:56 Erm actually it's 1:56 AM

🐶 01:56 It's called silent old man.

Bread. 01:56 LMFAO

Baby Chick 01:56 LOL

Butt Hunter 01:56 I don't think his phone box has a silent button.

Squirrel 01:57 😭

Her Majesty the Queen 01:57 💀

You put your phone down and picked up the invitation to your sister's wedding, 4 months... all you had was 4 months to get someone to go to the wedding with. You sighed, going to the app store and downloaded for the nth time, tinder. Cringing.

You had four months to at least meet some expectations, get a nice guy for maybe a month or two, ask him to be your plus one to your sister's wedding then what? You shrugged to yourself and shoved your phone under your pillow before going to sleep.

Chan realized he was screwed, he watched you get ready for another date.

"Honestly." You sighed sitting down to put on your makeup. "I might just go with a random guy. Or maybe I could take Hyunjin or Jisung."

He pursed his lips. Was he even an option for you? What made this guy from tinder so important you had to doll yourself up to go see him. Chan bit his lip, you were his best friend, he could fix the problem, he could be your plus one, he could ask. but he didn't. He was too scared to.

He remembered his conversation with Changbin and Minho a few days earlier. Maybe he was being too much of a pussy. He'd known you for ages, he knew how you liked your coffee and the music that calmed you down, he knew what part in silly romance movies made you cry, he knew when you were uncomfortable and when you were too angry to speak.

"If you keep beating around the bush with how you feel you might never get a chance."

Changbin's words rang in his ears and he bit his lip.

"Y/n what if-" He started.

The doorbell rang as you finished applying your lip stick. "Oh, I gotta go Channie." You stood and hugged him. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck." Chan gave you a small smile and the moment you were out the door he was cursing himself for not stopping you. "Damnit."

Chan wished he hadn't wished you luck. You and Seokmin, your date, apparently hit it off. For the next two and a half weeks Chan felt like a third wheel in his own friendship with you, if you weren't on the phone with Seokmin, you were texting him, and if you weren't texting him, you were talking about him.

It really came to a head when Hyunjin invited the entirety of the group chat to go out for karaoke and you were busy with Seokmin the day off.

It hand't really been his intention to show up at your place angry, just the thought of you not just ghosting him but the whole friend group. He knocked a few times. no response.

Chan knocked again. he still got no response. Sure the key in the dirt of the potted plant hanging under the sign of your apartment number was for emergencies only, but this was an emergency. (to him anyway.)

Chan opened the door and entered your apartment, expecting to hear lewd sounds or... what else was he really expecting. But as he approached your door his heart ached. It wasn't a sound he heard often from you but it was one he could recognize any day. Chan pushed the door open slowly. You sat on your bed, hugging a pillow, eyes red and puffy, tears streaking your face, you didn't notice him until he closed the door gently behind himself.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

You quickly wiped your tears. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

Chan sighed. "Come here." He sat on the bed and opened his arms.

You leaned into him muttering, "Seokmin is a dumass."

"What happened?" Chan asked, rubbing your shoulder gently.

"He blocked me." You sniffed. "Out of the fucking blue."

Chan hummed softly. "His loss."

You looked up at your friend, "You're so dum."

"Nuh uh, I think I'm pretty smart princess." Chan smiled gently.

"I don't think so." You laughed softly.

He looked down at you. "'M smart enough to stay your friend."

You nod slightly, "I stayed attached to you at the hip is more like it."

"Didn't have a problem with it."

"Chan." You rubbed your friend's arm.

"Hm?"

"Go with me."

"Where?" he asked dumbly.

You sat up and flicked his forehead. "You know where."

"I don't get anything out of it." He rubbed his forehead.

"I'll uh..."

"Worry about it later." He huffed and stood, smoothing your hair. "Should we get (comfort food)?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask." You punched him softly and led the way out of your room.

The day of the wedding you were wearing a long pastel blue dress, and Chan a matching suit, it wasn't the first time you'd matched with your best friend, but this felt more special. Your grandmother and parents gave you side ways glances during the wedding procession, and once the reception had started so did your grandma's vulture like flocking.

"Y/N i really thought you would've come with someone other than Chan, maybe your sister was right you just need time." the old woman sighed.

You sucked in a breathe but Chan grabbed your hand under the table, his words making you freeze, "Is there a problem with me attending as her boyfriend?"

You turned to Chan and he squeezed your hand as if urging you to play along.

Your grandmother looked at you stunned. "What? Since when?"

"The dinner really opened my eyes, maybe guys don't approacher because I'm around, I do look like her boyfriend don't I?" He glanced at you, "Why not give it a shot?"

Your family must have heard your grandmother's cry because your mother and father came over a few moments later and you watched as Chan worked his charm, a mask on his face the entirety of the time.

Your sister looked between you and Chan, blinking quite a bit. As your parents congratulated you on not being single for the first time, you felt like you out did your sister, you looked at Chan, he smiled gently at you and your heart jumped.

After a lot of drinks and cake you decided it was time to head home.(Chan had to drag you out.)

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, you were too buzzed to speak and Chan was focused on driving.

Chan smiled softly, glancing at you. "Wasn't so bad was it?"

You took a moment before you spoke. "Did you mean what you said?"

Chan's brows furrowed, "About what?"

"Did you actually think of me like that after the dinner?" You looked at him.

Chan sucked a breath, squeezing the wheel. "Would you believe me if I said yes."

"I don't have a reason not to."

Chan pulled off the highway onto the smaller road that lead through the city and to your apartment.

"Well?" You asked.

Chan bit his lip and nodded. "I meant what I said."

You remained quiet until he pulled into your apartment complex. And even after he got you into your apartment. You stood there, looking at... Chan. Chan who knew you better than you knew yourself, Chan who always calmed you down, Chan who got angry for you, Chan who bought you food when you were sad and held you until you grew tired of it(you never did you never could), Chan your...

"You meant it?" You were completely sober now, picking up the conversation as if you hadn't been silent for the past half hour.

Chan nodded.

"Is that all there is to it?"

"No." he breathed, stepping closer to you.

"Tell me. What else?" You asked quietly.

"How do I even begin?" He laughed slightly. "I'm sorry-"

"Why are you apologizing?" You looked at him confused.

"For not telling you how I felt from the get go." he smiled, "If there's anything that makes me sleep at night it's you, if there's any place I feel safe it's with you. You make me more happy than I can describe with words alone, there isn't another person I'd be with in any life." He reached and caressed your cheek. "I wanted to fight myself when I let you go out with Seokmin. I want you, I need you, I..." He paused, scanning your face for a signal, any sign to keep going.

"You're going to shut up now when you're at the climax of your speech?" You laughed slightly.

He smiled and rolled his eyes, "I love you. I always have."

"You're really an idiot." You kissed him gently.

Chan blinked in shock. "I-"

You smiled, proud of yourself. "Now-"

Chan grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours again, you stared for a moment before relaxing into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue fighting yours before he pushed into your mouth to taste you, biting your lip gently.

"Wanted to do that for so long." He breathed against your lips, pulling away slowly.

You grabbed his collar. "If you don't finish what you started I will."

Chan's eyes widened and a smirk grew on his face. He kissed you again and his hand moved to the back of your dress. "May I, princess?"

"You may." You giggled as he removed the dress and your made quick work of his buttons before he shrugged off the jacket and shirt, picking you up and carrying you to the bed.

You squeaked as he threw you onto the bed and got on top you. "Nervous?" he asked laughing lightly.

"No... Of course not." You said looking away.

He smiled and turned your head to face him kissing you passionately before he moved to suck a dark mark just next to your jaw. "So pretty, just for me."

You gasped softly and nodded. "Just for you Channie." Chan continued his assault on your neck before removing your bra and smiling at your chest, he kissed your lips gently. "This is my favorite part of you," He moved to kiss your chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth and biting gently, relishing in the cry that escaped your lips, "But this is second best."

You blushed, "Stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" Chan chuckled against your right breast, pinching the left.

"You-"

"Huh?" He kissed down your belly and bit hard beside your belly button.

"Ow-" You gasped and grabbed his hair.

"Gotta make sure they know you're taken if you wear a crop top." he murmured and moved lower kissing your thigh and pulling your legs apart. "This is mine hm? I think I waited for it long enough." He kissed your thigh before pulling your pantie off. He tossed it haphazardly over his shoulder. He took amount to admire you and you shifted slightly.

"Channie. You're staring." You muttered.

"That a problem princess?"

"Pervert." You rolled your eyes as Chan tugged you to the edge fo the bed.

He rubbed your clit with his thumb applying just enough pressure to make you moan, he smiled. "That feel good?"

You nodded, panting.

"Use your words." He said rubbing your clit a bit faster.

You moaned and tried to move away but his hand came to hold you down. "No, no."

You blushed, "Meanie."

He smirked kissing your belly before slipping a finger into you. You moan as your wall clenched around his digit, he moved it in and out slowly, thumb still working at your clit.

You gasped and bit your lip as he pushed another finger into you. He paused looking at you.

"What?" You tried to move for friction but he held you down.

"I want to hear you."

You blushed furiously, eyes wide.

Chan laughed lightly and started fingering you again, his middle and ring finger curling to find your g-spot.

You let out a loud cry and Chan smiled, he moved to kiss you, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, he started grinding his palm into your clit as his fingers moved deeper. You moaned into the kiss and squealed, legs kicking slightly. Chan slid a third finger into you and you squirmed.

"It's too much!" You whined.

"I think you can take it." He said kissing your neck, "Just a little bit more, princess, wanna feel you cum on my hand."

You moaned louder as he pinched your nipple, sucking on the other one. You gasped as he started grinding his tented crotch against your thigh.

"Are you going to cum for me?" he cooed into your ear. "Cum for me, please, princess."

You moaned loudly as you came hard on Chan's hand.

He hummed and lifted his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean before leaning to kiss you. "You taste good babygirl." He stood to remove his pants letting them fall to the floor.

You moaned at the lewdness of the action as Chan moved between your legs, tapping his cock against your clit.

"I'm gonna make you feel good, make you mine." He said, his voice thick with lust.

You bit your lip and nodded. "Please. "

Chan smiled kissing you gently as he pushed into you.

A throaty moan erupted from your throat and Chan groaned. "Sound so pretty," He pulled out slowly and pushed in deeply, you cried out at the slight burn. "I'm sorry baby," He kissed your cheeks gently. "Can I move now?"

You nod and before you could ground yourself Chan was pistoning into you, fucking you as if he wouldn't get to again. You held onto him tightly, clawing at his broad shoulders. He moaned and squeezed your hips tightly. "You're so tight princess."

He moaned softly against your neck, kissing and biting, leaving marks that would surely become hickeys by morning, as he rutted into you over and over. You moaned louder, panting into the heated kisses he granted you. The bed creaked and slammed against the wall with the force of it all, the sound of sin slapping against skin filling your bedroom, you were positive the neighbors could hear but it wasn't like you had room to care.

Chan's hand slipped between your bodies and he began rubbing your clit. "C'mon baby. Cum for me again."

Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he began thrusting into you harder, hitting your g-spot.

"Cum for me princess." He said through grit teeth.

Another thrust sent you toppling over the edge and you came hard, vision going white as you let out a broken cry. Chan followed quickly, his thick length throbbing inside you as you milked him for everything he had. He kept thrusting his gaze distant and glassy.

You whimpered and trembled as he overstimulated you slightly. After a few more thrusts he finally slowed down and relaxed on top of you.

"Let me take you out on a date..." He muttered against your shoulder.

"I'd like that." You said running your fingers through his curly hair.

What da cringe ending 😭 I really want to thank everyone for 100 followers LOVE YALL <3 requests will reopen soon, I'm still busy with school but I hoped you liked this it took really long to make.

[stormblessed95]

Watching Are You Sure?! EP 2

A reminder of how I do these reaction posts as I watch things. I just write my reactions and thoughts down literally as a happen. Think more of a bullet point format. I'll include links when I can to videos, thanks to the people who twt who upload clips. And at the end, I'll do a better wrap up of all my opinions. I hope everyone enjoyed the show so far!!

July 15th now! Day 2 here we come! Over an hour of Jikookery!!

Starts off with JK on his motorcycle and Jimin riding witht the crew and admiring how cute JK is, while they are on the phone the entire time. Adorable. "He likes being cool." Lmao

I love how the staff indulge them too, like with Jimins "prank" of spraying washer fluid at JK 😂

Jimin lagging super far behind everyone in the hike at first saying it's because he thinks is nice to go slow now that he is older.... But also honey, are you sure (lol) that's not just your upset tummy talking? 😅😂

JK asking Jimin for a cover of Seven. I know they were mostly joking.... But um, Jimin.... Where is our cover?!?! Please!!

Jimin showing off his beautiful smooth legs 😂😂

Jimin being bit by mosquitoes constantly and JK deciding to take a turn into vampirism and vore 😂🤣 as well as calling Jimins thighs the best entree? 😏🫣 Lol OKAY

You just gave me butterflies holding onto my back like that?? Lmfao has he said that EVERYTIME he drags Jimin around holding onto the back of his shirt?? 🤣😂🥰😍 Butterflies like love, JK?

Turns out, he said making my heart flutter. I think that makes it worse. And the informal/formal flirty tones. Yup. Definitely worse 😅😍🫣😂 and it absolutely usually has romantic connotations. Both in English and in Korean

Someone get Jimin a dang bottle of bug spray!! The heck!

The way they both felt so free and peaceful on the ocean that they fell asleep for a nap together. Jimin sleeping for much longer since he wasn't feeling good though too. Also brief mention for the way JKs hands kept straying over to rub on Jimins smooth legs and kept getting cut in the video lol

JK telling Jimin he looked so pretty when he first got to NY and now our poor baby is so tired and sick

JK preforming Seven for Jimin. Lol let's NOT talk about how he sings the "I kiss your waist and ease your mind" line while staring into Jimins eyes. Or how he turns back to look at Jimin while singing "you wrap around me and you give me life" before playfully swatting him too. Just for Jimin to end things there by playfully wrestling back 😂

Jikooks Titanic 😂😂🥰🥰😍😍

JK exploring and touching all over Jimin's body looking for mosquito bites.... Lmfao ALRIGHT. "You are obviously looking for bite marks" why is this so flirty? Why are they doing this with all their staff right in front of them STARING AT THEM with the cameras too 😂🤣😂 I guess at some point you get so used to it, you start tuning them out. And Jikook are, for the most part, 10+ years used to it. And all that play wrestling comes to an end when Jimin's upset stomach and toilet issues come back to remind him that they exist 🤣🤣 (see first picture at the top of post lmfao)

Thinking of things to name the show and among the many suggestions JK makes, "come out" is one. That would've been an interesting title lol

JK sharing a whole bag of food with the staff on the other boat. He is such a sweetie

Jiminie somehow ending up with JKs hat between cuts while eating

The way they spent almost all day on this boat man. And we got a montage of them just smiling at each other through the day 🥺🥺🥺

JK looking up their song stats and the way they both got so excited for how well their songs were doing on the charts 🥰🥰🥰 I'm so proud of them both!

And I love hearing JK talk about his goals with Golden. Same with Jimin about Face/Muse. I'm so so proud of them, it's unbelievable

The way everyone shops so different is why some people won't grocery shop with others 🤣🤣 the cuts between Jimin sighing frustratingly "Jungkook ah" and JK going "cheese cheese" had me CACKLING lmfao 😂😂 and it's all really because of what JK wanted to cook FOR Jimin for dinner 🥺

The parking lot dance break was adorable 😂🤣 their giggles are my favorite thing

The way that Jimin keeps taking cute little pictures of JK at their destinations. That's his baby

They rented a house with 4 entire bedrooms. Lmfao for what reason?! Jikook technically got separate rooms here.

Why do they take such MASSIVE bites when they eat? Lmfao is this engrained behavior from spending their formative years living with 6 other teenage/young adult boys? 🤣😂

"I'm just honored to have your food" JIMIN 😭😭😭

JK being very insistent about hearing Who. Lmao not Like Crazy or any of his songs that are out. But his new song. It's giving how sulky he was when he didn't hear Face songs first. Making sure he wouldn't get left out again! I loved this though! I really genuinely love listening to them talk music and singing techniques though. Loling though at the way JK told Jimin he should growl more in his vocals. Think his YouTube algorithm showed him any fan made comps about said Jimin vocal growls that always caused ARMY to lose their minds 🤣🤣

"should I sleep next to Jungkook tonight? Will he hit me again?" 🤣🤣🤣🤣 And JK already being in the room lol

Toothbrushing acrobatics. You know, the norm lmao followed by the huge cut too lmao what happened

The way they filmed JK tossing and turning in his bed for a bit and then absolutely zero filming in Jimins room after bedtime.... And in the morning, JK had to turn the camera outside Jimins room back on.... I'm not saying that JK didn't spend the entire night in his own bed and instead slept in Jimins... But I'm not, not saying that either 😂

(we are now in July 16th!)

JK joking about leaving Jimin behind since he is sleeping in so much, just to immediately go climb into bed with him. This is the most domestic type of morning waking up intimacy and cuddles. Because TF Jikook. Lol all that. And it was clearly a lot because of the amount of cuts in that short period of footage.... Where they were laying next to each other just sharing space, cuddling, being a little silly. And then randomly going like "oh we need to remember to get a sponge today." Lol domestic 101.

No because really, let's talk about that cuddle? TF Jungkook. First we got him coming up to crawl into Jimins bed where he like palms his bare thigh, straightens his leg out so he can rest against his bare (shaved/waxed) thigh. And he makes that growling/groaning sound he ALWAYS does when presented with a sexy Jimin or often when he touches Jimin's bare skin. Like CMON dude.

Followed by Jimin then being silly and pretending to go elbow JKs nose. Lol and JK clearly went to retaliate by simply wrapping him up in a hug to start spooning, but Jimin ready to defend himself so he kept blocking JK with his arm. Lmfao only to be quickly overpowered. Spanked, ass caressed, and then JK snuggles into him and basically disappears behind Jimins back he is snuggling so hard. And then spanked again when JK got up 😂 so much ass appreciation in this clip

Not to mention apparently it's being suspected that JKs mic was already in Jimins room and he just picked it up and pretended to unhook it from his shirt before climbing into Jimins bed... Who knows

Round 2 of Jikook walking around the house this time with Jimin hanging off the back of JKs shirt. This is really just the natural state for them huh. Lol

Riding to Walmart on the motorcycle together is the cutest and most amazing thing. JK reminding Jimin to be careful because the motorcycle is really hot underneath. 🥰

When JK accidentally steps on Jimins heel walking into the store... The way that Jimin pinches his neck in retaliation was crazzzyyy lol

Them meeting the ARMY in the store to buy the pizza is the cutest freaking thing. The whole interaction. And when JK goes in his sponge adventure, she got a hug and autograph from Jimin 🥺🥺🥰🥰 and how complimentary and excited they were about meeting her too!

Jimin being like those damn dongsaengs after losing JK in the store for the second time 😂😂😂

JKs water curse has to be one of the funniest unexpected recurring themes of these episodes lol "I don't think there has been a day where I didn't get wet." Lol poor Kookie

Jimin with his sleeve rolled up and that backwards hat transported me STRAIGHT back to 2014 😳😂

Rainy day fight pt 2 with the umbrella in a parking lot, followed by JK step it up dance in the rain edition 😂🤣

JK ordering for the table again 💜

Someone count the amount of times that Jimin fondly watched JK and said that he looks cute or cool, because it's been a lot lol

Jimin waiting patiently while his TikToker boyfriend bestie takes crazy cinematic videos of their food before ending on a close up of Jimins face 🤣😂 Beautiful honestly lol

They ended their trip with comments about being so happy and having such a good time. 🥰💜

And JK saying they should do at LEAST 12 seasons and travel together until they are like 50 😂🤣😂

Wrap up thoughts:

I am both not surprised by anything and yet also fully taken aback by their little morning routine in bed there that one day 😂 I've pretty much said all I can say on that though above.

Jikook both clearly have the exact same sense of humor, sarcastic and dry at times, stupid giggly at others. Again, nothing new information wise but something I'll always enjoy seeing. Boy do they bicker in the cutest freaking ways lol

That hyung/dongsaeng relationship, yeah that doesn't fucking exist for them at all. Lol yeah sure, they use the words.... Sometimes. But that is not their dynamic. Again, we been knew. But the constant consistency from them is always nice. Lol

There is zero filter and zero boundaries and yes, we knew that too. And while yes we technically should have known that all of BTS, having lived on top of each other for so many years, have absolutely seen each other at their absolute lowest. It's another thing to witness the zero filter about toileting troubles 😂 and how zero issue it was too. No embarrassment, no judgement, just taking care of him and jokes and having fun anyway.

Jikook are the definition of matching each other's freak. 100% lmfao

They LOVE taking care of each other. The cooking, the babying, the constant wanting to do something for the other, the musical praise and discussions.

I liked this episode even better than the first! This is my new favorite show, thanks Jikook!!

[in-loving-memory-of]

Takashi Morinozuka x fem reader -> crush/early dating stage head-canons (sfw)

honestly, i fuckn hate hcs, but i’m gonna put them out there anyway, since mine are simply better cuz i said so

- Takashi isn’t the type of guy to just go up to a girl and ask her out because he thinks she’s cute or anything, so you would 100% have to start off as friends before he made a move (and even then, you’d probably be waiting a while)

- Probably would not initiate a conversation with you on his own (shocking)

- I could see Honey noticing Takashi’s special interest in a girl and deciding to talk to her, and maybe even invite her to the club

- If he did this with Takashi present, he’d be super nervous but secretly grateful that his cousin set him up, cuz lord knows it wouldn’t have happened otherwise

- Once Honey had Takashi’s crush engaged in a conversation, he’d start trying to, not so subtly, gauge whether or not she’s a good fit for Takashi

- If Honey doesn’t like you, then you don’t get to be with Takashi, period.

- If anyone asks at any point during your friendship if Takashi has feelings for you, he’ll either outright deny it or just stay silent, even though it’d be super obvious to anyone who knows him to any capacity

- He would be more engaged in conversations with you than anyone else, MAYBE aside from Honey

- He’d help with anything he thought you may be struggling with (you don’t even have to ask)

- Need help finding something? He’s got you. Pickle jar too hard to open? No problem. Can’t reach something on a high shelf? Well, thank god a certain giant has nothing better to do (he was just admiring you anyway)

- Once the club catches on, any possible privacy the two of you had is gone. Especially if they can tell the feelings are reciprocated

- Tamaki, the twins, and Honey would all try to get the both of you into situations where you’d be alone together, or they’d talk about how cute you would be together, or how cute your kids would be, etc.

- Even before a relationship begins, Takashi will think it’s disloyal or unfaithful to interact flirt with any other girls, so he would be extra quiet during club hours (unless you’re there 🥰)

- Speaking of relationships, when Takashi does finally ask you out, expect it to be a simple question, such as: “Would you like to get coffee with me tomorrow?” or something similar. He’d probably do so when you two are completely alone (mostly so the other club members don’t try to trail you on your date)

- If the date went well, and he felt like you were interested afterwards, that’s when he’d ask you to be his girlfriend.

- The poor guy’s heart would be pounding out of his chest and he’d be blushing like crazy, which would only get worse when if you said yes

- Once you’re official, any reservations he previously had regarding closeness are gone. He wants to hold your hand and just be near you all the time

- He’s not into the PDA shit, though. It’s not like he’d pull you into a make out sesh in public, but he does like to be near you at all times

- Honey absolutely loves that Takashi found someone he truly cares for, especially since he thinks you’re fun to be around, so he and Takashi can still be close as ever

- The other members (mainly Tamaki) are ecstatic about the relationship as well

- Seeing their normally stoic friend all head over heals for you is just too sweet

- Once you start dating, it isn’t long before he wants you over to meet his parents and vice versa

- He doesn’t even see it as a huge step or anything. I mean, of course he wants his family to meet his darling partner

———————————————————————

Alright, I’m gonna call this a part one, and basically just write others to be more tailored to a reader with specific personality traits, cuz writing so vaguely is driving me insane.

(I have no writing experience, but I promise I’ll try harder next time, so hopefully they’ll get better after this 😭)

If there’s anything specific you want to see, feel free to request headcanons or fics for Takashi (or any of the other characters for that matter), as that’ll make it way easier to write something worthwhile lmao

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 8: Demeter, Goddess Of The Harvest]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 6.2k

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Is it a story worth telling? I think so. It’s better than nothing. It’s better than watching raindrops slither down the cracked concrete walls until the prison guards come back to bloody us again.

Today I’m sending John McCain taps in the shape of the tale of Io. John has a hard time tapping back—they’re doing something to his shoulders, they’re destroying him—but he likes to listen. He’s getting it a lot worse than I am; perhaps even the North Vietnamese fear Aemond’s retribution if I die here. They should be afraid of him. He thinks he owns everything he touches, and he’ll snap bones to keep it.

So anyway, Io was a king’s daughter, a mortal who Zeus saw and wanted and took when her father kicked her out to avoid the god’s wrath. That’s easily half of Greek mythology, right? Zeus appears, irrevocably fucks up someone’s life, vanishes in a plume of clouds and thunder. He leaves human rubble behind him: ribs, nerves, disembodied hearts that leak blood from torn ventricles, minds broken in two. Zeus impregnated Io and then turned her into a cow to hide her from his wife Hera, ever-watchful, ever-vengeful, an aspiring mass murderess. When this disguise failed, Hera condemned Io to wander ceaselessly through the wilderness, tormented by the constant stinging of a gadfly. Eventually, Zeus returns Io to human form and she pops out a few bastard kids, as if Zeus needs any more of those. Then he ditches her and she marries some Egyptian dude. There are other details that I’ve forgotten. I don’t think John McCain will know the difference.

I’m sure you’re wondering how I acquired all this fabled trivia. I don’t seem like the type to lie around under trees reading folklore from religions that died thousands of years ago. You’re right, I’m not. But Aemond is. He would tell the stories, and Helaena would embroider scenes on quilts for us to burrow under in the winter, and I would dramatically act out the best parts (mostly murders), and Aegon would scribble comics in jagged black pen strokes. He has all these notebooks down in the basement filled with his new versions of ancient myths: Poseidon as a horny dolphin, Aphrodite as Marilyn Monroe.

Wait, I remember what I skipped. While Io was roaming across the globe, she bumped into Prometheus—chained to a rock for giving humans the gift of fire—and he cheered her up somehow. I guess meeting a guy who gets his liver continuously chewed out by a giant eagle would make me more appreciative of my circumstances too.

I have a lot of time to myself here in solitary confinement. My social circle is microscopic. I tap to John through the wall, I have dinner dates with Tessarion the rat. And I think about my family. They’re fucked up, but I miss them. I miss going to Monmouth Park with Fosco to bet on horse races, I miss getting hammered with Aegon while he sings Johnny Cash or Beatles songs. I miss my mother and Helaena and Criston. I even miss Aemond’s wife, though I only met her a few times before I deployed. She’s sharp, she’s hilarious. She’s mean as hell to Aegon, and sometimes he deserves it.

At first I wondered why Aemond hasn’t gotten me out yet, but I understand now. It sounds a lot better to have a brother being tortured as a prisoner of war than one who received a Get Out Of Jail Free card. It’s the kind of thing Aemond would consider. He understands which stories are worth telling.

I feel kind of bad for her. Aemond’s wife, I mean.

I don’t think she knows about Alys.

~~~~~~~~~~

On a chilly mid-September morning cloaked in fog, Mimi is laid to rest in the Targaryen family mausoleum at Saint George Greek Orthodox Cemetery in Asbury Park, New Jersey. Most of the golden plaques already have names chiseled into them: Viserys and Alicent, Fosco and Helaena. Aegon will one day be interred beside his wife. You have a spot reserved next to Aemond. All of you have already lived and died and been entombed; all of this was predestined by the stars eons before you had blood or bones.

Ari’s vault—an unnaturally tiny drawer, less than half the size of anyone else’s—is located just above yours. You can’t stop staring at it. You can’t hear anything the bearded priest in his black robes is chanting. Then Cosmo squeezes your hand and you look down at him. Mimi’s other children are somber but seem to be coping well enough—they are used to being raised by consensus, they would probably be more affected if one of the nannies died—but Cosmo always wants to be near you. He gazes up with those vast, wet, murky blue eyes, so much like Aegon’s, and you offer him a sad, reassuring smile. Cosmo smiles back. And you think: Life goes on.

Alicent is sniffling noisily; it echoes off the walls of the mausoleum. Criston—a man with no plaque assigned to him—is trying to console her. Aegon is watching you from across the cold granite chamber, grim and red-eyed in his black suit, the first time you can remember seeing him in one since your wedding. He wears no small gold hoops, only a row of stitches in his right ear. He wants to say something, to do something, but he can’t. Aemond is beside you, a hand heavy on your waist but muttering something to Otto. Back in Omaha, Otto had spent a few hours alone with the medical examiner, and when the death certificate was issued it revealed that Mimi died of a heart defect, a perfectly blameless sort of misfortune, an innate impending disaster. And so that’s what the newspapers printed, and any gossip to the contrary is confined to salacious rumors, untrustworthy and unproven.

When the ceremony is over, journalists are waiting to scavenge for photos and quotes under the guise of expressing their sympathies. It’s a shameless display, though they at least have the decency to wait by the cemetery gates. Aemond and Otto go to meet them. Alicent, Criston, Helaena, and Fosco, protective of the children, keep them far away from the feeding frenzy, hungry-eyed reporters like sharks without fins. Ludwika is reapplying her lipstick. Aegon is smoking a Lucky Strike and talking to his oldest son, Orion, a stilted exchange that holds the promise of turning warm with time.

You sit on a stone bench and Cosmo curls up beside you, rests his head in your lap, dozes off as you thread your fingers through his wavy blonde hair. In the mist there are shadows of gravestones and trees that turn skeletal as they shed their leaves.

“He is okay?” Fosco says as he ambles over, meaning Cosmo. He has his hands in the pockets of his slim black trousers that stop at his ankles. His suit is velvet, his eyeglasses speckled with drizzle from the slate-grey sky.

“He’s alright. He’s resting. Are you okay?”

“Oh,” Fosco sighs mournfully. “I keep thinking someone is missing. We came into this family together, Mimi and I. We got married six months apart. I have never had to do this without her. And I know she had her problems, but she was different when she was younger. She always liked a party, that’s why she and Aegon got along so well at first. But she was so loud and so funny, always telling these long stories, and everyone in the room would be grinning as they waited for the good part. Viserys loved her. Otto loved her. And then she had all those children one after the other, and that was hard, and Aegon self-destructed when he was the mayor of Trenton, and that was worse, and she was supposed to fix him and she couldn’t, the harder she tried the farther he ran from her. She started drinking her Gimlets before dinner, and then after lunch, and by the time you showed up it was never ending. But that wasn’t who she really was. She was like a moon that got smaller and smaller until the only thing left was a sliver.”

This family breaks people. This family kills people. “We’ll make ossi dei morti for Mimi tonight. I’ll help you, and we can teach the kids.”

Fosco smiles, swipes a tear from beneath his glasses, squeezes your shoulder with one wiry hand. “I am very glad you are still here.”

“I’m not trying to race you to that mausoleum.”

Fosco laughs. And then he says as he spies Aegon approaching: “Um…I will go avoid the paparazzi somewhere else.”

“You don’t have to leave, Fosco.”

“It is no trouble. And I suspect you enjoy your very rare privacy.” Fosco gives you a knowing glace and then heads back to where Helaena, Alicent, and Criston are lingering with the rest of the children. Now Ludwika is fluffing her blonde curls with her French tips, a smoldering Camel cigarette tucked between two fingers.

Aegon comes to you through the mist, plops onto the bench, and looks fondly down at Cosmo—now fast asleep, his face smooth and peaceful—before he speaks. “I can’t grasp that she’s really gone. We barely spoke for years, but she was always there, you know? Christ, she deserved better than this. She could have been happy somewhere else.”

“Your children need you.” It’s not the first time you’ve said it, but it’s the first time he believes you. He nods, staring out into the fog. “They have to get away from this whole circus for a while. And you have to learn how to be a real parent.”

“I’ll have time to work on it. I’m staying here. I’ve already been informed.”

You are alarmed. “What? By who?”

“Aemond and Otto.” Aegon says. “When the rest of you fly west, my kids and I will be at Asteria.”

“They’re getting you off the campaign trail,” you realize.

“They’re putting me on house arrest.”

Not seeing Aegon, not being near him? How long can I stand that? “I’m sure you’re relieved. You hate the grandstanding and the media.”

He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I won’t be alone. I have Fosco and Ludwika.”

“I’ll talk to them.”

“About what?”

“About the fact that they need to look out for you.”

“Aegon, I’ve been doing the political wife thing for over two years.”

“But it’s different now.”

He’s right, it is.

“You’ll call, won’t you?” he asks. “You’ll let me know how the trip is going, you’ll tell me if anything bad happens? Because I can always get on a plane and meet you wherever you are. Otto might pay someone to murder me, but I’d risk it.”

“Of course I’ll call.”

“Hey.” Gently, he turns your face so you can’t hide from him. “Will you be okay without me?”

I have to be. I don’t have a choice. Instead you reply: “I’ll miss the weed.”

The tension breaks and Aegon smiles, and then he pats your cheek twice with his open palm. “Behave yourself.” He waves Ludwika over, interrupting her meditative chain smoking.

“What, what?” Ludwika says. “Are we leaving soon? Yes, it is so sad what happened to Mimi, but us standing around in the rain won’t resurrect her. And I look terrible in black.”

“I can’t be there for the last leg of the campaign.” Aegon points to you. “I need you to pay attention and check in with her at least a few times a day.”

“This is a common request. I should get a degree in it so I can charge people.”

Aegon furrows his brow at her. “What are you talking about?”

Ludwika smirks as she puffs on her Camel. “You are not the first person to ask me to keep an eye on her.” She nods subtly towards Aemond, then sashays off to give a quote to the journalists.

~~~~~~~~~~

In San Diego, Aemond meets with residents of a new public housing complex to hear their concerns about neighborhood jobs and infrastructure. In San Jose, he visits labor activist Caesar Chavez—being treated for debilitating back pain at O’Connor Hospital—and expresses support for the ongoing boycott of all grapes produced in the state. In Sacramento, he attends a Jimi Hendrix concert and receives a standing ovation from the audience; the next day he joins high school students protesting for a more inclusive curriculum. In Oregon, he makes a speech at Portland State University acknowledging the tremendous cost of the Vietnam War—in money, in time, in blood—and pledges to begin dismantling U.S. involvement as soon as he is sworn into office in January. Aemond talks about hope and despair, the bleak reality and the American Dream, and he is so overwhelmed by the crowd that he doesn’t even notice when someone takes his cufflinks as souvenirs. His lack of concern for his own safety exasperates Criston, but Aemond can’t be convinced to increase his security or his distance. If he expects the disaffected masses to carry him to the White House, he has to be real to them.

“What if another Wallace supporter tries to shoot you?” Criston demands. “What if a Nixon stooge stabs you or a crowd tramples you?”

“No one can kill me,” Aemond says, grinning wryly. “I’m not supposed to die yet. I’m supposed to be the president. It is God’s will.” And how can anybody disagree when that appears to be so true?

The earth dies as you drive north, summer withering into autumn. That familiar brisk cuttingness reappears in the air. You shake thousands of hands, smile for countless photographs. Mothers and wives of dead soldiers sob into your shoulder as you embrace them; teenage girls ask how they can get a good man like Aemond. Only one thing is missing from his glorious pilgrimage: something he wants desperately, something he cannot have (though he’ll never know why), you conceiving his child in time to announce it before Election Day. Each morning you sneak a pill and every night you bite the bullet. As often as you can, you duck into Dairy Queens to order lemon-lime Mr. Mistys.

George Wallace is in the South, galvanizing segregationists and accepting the endorsement of the Ku Klux Klan. Richard Nixon is working his way across the Midwest. He has chosen a politically moderate Greek as a running mate, Spiro Agnew; this does not strike you as a coincidence. He even shares a name with Aegon’s second son.

Nixon promises “peace with honor” in Vietnam, which means no immediate end to the draft. He makes speeches about “states’ rights” and “law and order,” ambiguous euphemisms designed to attract Wallace’s white supremacists without alienating too many suburban moderates. He commiserates with those lamenting the proliferation of sex, drugs, and divorce. He says he will return the nation to a more moral time. You wonder what he means. You can’t think of any such refuge in the bloodletting, spine-crushing history of mankind.

A kindergarten teacher tells you in Olympia, Washington, her eyes alight with reverence usually reserved for heroes, saints, gods: “People are voting for Aemond, but they’re voting for you too.”

And you find yourself thinking as a thousand miles roll by beyond the glass of limousine windows: How many people will I condemn if I don’t help Aemond win? How many lives is mine worth?

~~~~~~~~~~

The Hotel Sorrento in Seattle insists on giving you and Aemond the honeymoon suite: a retreat from the breakneck campaign, a romantic oasis for the future president and first lady…according to half the country, anyway. You are in the impractically large pink bathtub, surrounded by snowy dunes of bubbles. The wall to your right is a mirror, foggy around the edges; just a few yards to your left is the king-sized bed. In the top drawer of your nightstand is the card Aegon gave you in July. You aren’t sure where Aemond is, and you don’t especially care. You are relieved to be alone.

There’s a passion-red phone built into the rim of the tub, conveniently located for sudden room service revelations, champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries, steak and lobster. You have a different idea. It’s 7:15 p.m. here, so after 10 on the East Coast. On the steam-slick keypad, you dial the number for the main house at Asteria.

Eudoxia picks up and demands gruffly: “Geiá sou? Ti?”

“Hi, Doxie. Is Aegon around?”

“Where else would he be? Making himself useful somehow? Killing communists, driving a rocket to the moon? No. He is a burden as always.”

“Please be nice to him. His wife just died.”

“And so he cannot put his empty cups in the sink?” Without waiting for a reply, she sets the handset down on the kitchen counter with a clunk. There is distant, muffled shouting in Greek; she seems to back and forth with somebody. Then Eudoxia returns. “Antio sas,” she says, and hangs up just as a phone elsewhere in the house is lifted from its cradle.

Aegon answers with something halfway between a groan and a yawn. “Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hey!” You can hear it riding the wire like electricity: a rustling as he sits up, a fresh clarity in his skull. His voice is deep, hushed, still husky with sleep. “What’s up, little Io? Any interesting happenings to report from your neighborhood of the solar system?”

“I just left a riveting tea party. Apple cinnamon scones and smoked salmon sandwiches. We talked about what kind of couches I should get for the White House and I wanted to kill myself. Are the kids okay?”

He’s smiling; you can tell. “They’re alright. I could have used you this afternoon. I was trying to help Spiro with his math homework. Trying, not succeeding.”

“Well he’s in middle school and thus beyond your skill.”

“How’s Jupiter?”

You know who he means. “I don’t want to talk about Aemond.”

“Okay.” Aegon says, curious. “So what should we talk about?”

A few seconds tick by, silent and perilous. “Where are you right now?”

“In my lair. Like a beast.”

“Alone?”

A transitory pause. “At the moment.”

“On the shag carpet or your futon?”

Now he’s very intrigued. “Futon. Why?”

“I just want a visual.” Beneath the water, your free hand is resting on the velvety inside of your thigh.

“Where are you?” Aegon asks.

“You wouldn’t believe it.”

“Maybe I want a visual too.”

You chuckle, peeking over at yourself in the mirror. Your skin is dewy with steam; stray wisps of hair stick to your face. “I’m in a gigantic pink bathtub. It’s ridiculous, it’s shaped like a heart and everything. They have a phone installed right here in case I find myself in desperate need of filet mignon.”

“Oh.” And then he hesitates, like he’s afraid to say the wrong thing. “Big enough for two?”

“More like five. You should get a tub like this for your basement, it would delight the campaign staffers.”

“My basement’s been pretty empty recently.”

Softly, vulnerably, glass offered for him to shatter: “You aren’t seeing other girls?”

“Nah, babe. I want something they can’t give me.”

You picture him, messy hair falling over his forehead, drowsy eyes that gleam with clandestine wisdom. You can smell the smoke and rum that bleeds from his skin. “I wish you were here.”

“In Seattle?”

“No. Right here.”

Aegon exhales shakily, swallows, takes a few seconds to collect himself. “How’s the water?”

“Extremely hot and full of bubbles.”

“So I wouldn’t be able to see you.”

“No,” you say, baiting him.

“But I could touch you.”

“You already have.”

“Not enough,” he murmurs. “Nowhere close to enough.”

“Do you remember what I felt like?”

“Oh God,” he whispers, and you envision him closing his eyes, rubbing his face with the open palm of his left hand. “Yeah. Of course I do. I can’t get it out of my head. But I’ve been trying not to…you know…it felt wrong to think about you that way unless you were cool with it. Like I was betraying your trust or taking advantage of you or something.”

“No, I want you to think about me.”

You can hear Aegon moving around on the green futon, repositioning himself, yanking down a zipper. When he speaks again, his breathing is quick and jagged. “Where’s your other hand, huh?”

“Under the water,” you reply coyly.

“You bitch,” he says, laughing. “I miss you so fucking much. The house isn’t right without you in it. You belong here, you belong where I am.”

Beneath the veil of bubbles and steam, there is no scar on your belly, no infidelity, no campaign, no distance of almost 3,000 miles separating you and Aegon. Your fingers slip between your legs, finding slickness the water can’t wash away. It’s a familiar sensation, though you haven’t felt it in a while: rising steadily until you hit a plateau like a jet reaching cruising altitude. From here, it will either glide along smoothly until it dies out, or eventually turn sharp and painful. “Tell me about you,” you pant.

He can hear it in your voice, a needful surrender that sets him on fire. He can’t believe this is happening; he never wants it to end. “I mean, I’m…I’m insanely hard.”

“Stroke yourself, imagine it’s me. I wish it could be me.”

“Oh fuck,” Aegon whimpers. “Okay, okay…I want you. I want you with my fingers, I want you with my tongue, I want you to beg for it, and then…”

Impossibly, incomparably, your own pleasure is climbing faster than you can reconcile yourself to it, no longer a hunger but a violent aching, a crushing gravity you can’t fight against, a ship being dragged to the floor of the ocean. What’s happening? When will it end? You moan into the phone, amazed yet petrified. You can’t get enough air; it feels like drowning, like dying.

“I need to see you,” Aegon says. He’s close to the climax that you know men experience, he has to be; he’s gasping. “I need to be with you, let me give you what you want.”

“I want you to finish inside me.”

“Io…babe…oh my God, you’re gonna kill me…”

There are sounds out in the front room of the suite: a lock clicking, footsteps, keys and a wallet tossed onto the kitchenette counter. You’re so consumed you almost don’t notice. Aemond is back. Aemond is back!! And every ion of your ascending euphoria evaporates. “Gotta go, bye.”

“Wait—!”

You hang up just as Aemond is opening the bedroom door. He walks in—immaculately tailored dark blue suit, polished black leather shoes trampling soft pink carpet—and turns to you. He has already taken his glass eye out and put on his eyepatch. Vaguely, fleetingly, you wonder where he’s been. His gaze darts to the red phone, your fingerprints in the condensation. “Who were you talking to?”

“My parents.”

If Aemond doubts this, he doesn’t show it. He crosses the room, sits on the edge of the bathtub, peers down at you with an omniscient metallic glint in his eye. He’s always been less a man than a force of nature. “I know this year has been hell.”

You envision Persephone being stolen by Hades, Orpheus searching for his dead wife Eurydice, Charon ferrying souls across the River Styx. “You haven’t made it easier.”

There’s a flash of something in his scarred face, blazing and instantaneous like lightning, and then it fades. He reaches out to touch your hair, swept up and neatly bound with clips and pins. “We can’t forget everything we’ve accomplished together,” Aemond says. “I still need you. You’re my Aphrodite.”

He’s going to tell you to get out of the tub, to lie down on the bed, to open yourself so he can fill you. You distract him, forestalling the inevitable. Each morning Prometheus dreads the return of the eagle that pecks out his liver; as every summer ends Demeter mourns the loss of Persephone. “Any luck with Nixon?”

Aemond sighs, furious, brooding. “He still won’t agree to a debate. Wallace is onboard, he’s rabid for it, he’d show up if we held it in the fucking asteroid belt, any opportunity to spew his idiocy. But not Nixon.”

“Because he knows standing on the same stage as you can only hurt him. People thought he looked bad in 1960, can you imagine now? Television has gotten so much clearer. They’ll be able to count his sweat drops from their living room couches.”

“So how do I get him to do it?”

You look up at Aemond. It’s not a hypothetical question; he’s really asking for advice.

“I have to debate Nixon,” Aemond insists. “It’s close in the polls, which means it will be even closer on Election Day. I’ll underperform whatever is projected, my coalition is less likely to show up when it counts. College kids, hippies, transients. That’s just a fact. But the old people vote. The suburban housewives vote. Nixon’s resting on his political experience and accusations that I’m a communist, an agent of chaos. But I could slaughter him in an hour on ABC.”

You think of the mutilated Vietnam veterans waving their signs and screaming at LBJ from the other side of the wrought-iron gates of the White House. “Challenge him in public. Say that the American people deserve to see the candidates debate, and do it where everyone can hear you.”

“What if Nixon still refuses?”

“Then you call him a coward. You say he must have something to hide. You ask how he’s supposed to square up with the Russians and the Chinese if he can’t even face you.”

Aemond grins admiringly. “You’re vicious.” And he lifts your hand from the rim of the tub so he can kiss your knuckles. Once you licked up drops of his approval like Tantalus, cursed with eternal thirst. Now it is poison that turns your veins black.

“If there’s a debate, everyone should go,” you say, seized by sudden inspiration. “We should have a united front, including Aegon. It can be his return to the public eye. A month will have passed since the funeral, the timing is right. He can pose for a few photos with the kids to show the nation that they’re doing well and distract from any lingering rumors about Mimi.”

Aemond isn’t grinning anymore. He’s studying you with his cold blue gaze; no, he’s trying to intimidate you, to overpower you. “Otto and I will decide what to do with him.”

“He’s a Targaryen. He should be with the rest of us.”

Aemond stands and motions for you to follow, a snap of his wrist like a man calling a dog. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

Panic, tension, an iron sinking in your belly. The water is only lukewarm now, but you don’t want to leave it. “I’m not done yet.”

“Yes you are.”

There’s nothing else to say. Legally, a wife’s flesh is one with her husband’s. You slip as you step out of the bathtub, and Aemond grabs your forearm. Not like he’s helping you; like you’re something he owns.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two knocks, swift and forceful. “Hey, it’s me. You ready? Everyone else is downstairs in the lobby waiting for the limos.”

You hurry to open the door, almost twisting your ankle as you stumble in your heels. They’re an inch higher than what you’re used to. Aemond chose them, and your dress too, and your sapphire teardrop earrings, and the silver chains around your wrist and throat, and your future and your past, and your life itself. It’s mid-October, and the night of what will almost certainly be the sole presidential debate of 1968. Aemond’s retinue is staying at the Hotel Saint Louis. It’s harvest time, the fields beyond the city being reaped of their soybeans, wheat, corn, cotton, and rice, the beef cattle culled in mechanical underworlds. Aegon’s flight must have just landed.

As soon as he sees you his eyes drop, wide and bewitched, ensnared everywhere except your face. You say: “Can you help me zip this, please?”

He blinks a few times, then shakes it off. “Sorry, what?”

“The zipper’s stuck. I need you to get it.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He steps into the suite and stands behind you. The gown is a vivid blue like the Greek flag, gorgeous and shimmering but a size too small. It wasn’t tight a week ago, but now it is, and you aren’t pregnant just always gaining and losing weight in new places, first the baby and then the pill, and it wouldn’t bother you if Aemond didn’t seem so confounded by it. Aegon says as he tugs at the zipper: “I don’t think it’s gonna fit, babe.”

“It has to fit.”

“Even if I miraculously get this closed, you won’t be able to breathe.”

“Do whatever you have to. Just…just…” You push every last molecule of air out of your lungs, suck in your belly, and you hear the triumphant squeal of the zipper. “Yes!” Oh, but Aegon was right: you really can’t breathe. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“You’re not gonna last the whole debate in that. You’ll be sweating more than Nixon.”

“I’m fine.”

“Io…”

“I’m fine. Come on.” You snatch your matching purse off the coffee table by the couch, check your makeup one last time, and hobble in your heels as you walk with Aegon out into the hallway.

At the Kiel Auditorium a few blocks away, the Targaryen children—Aegon’s five and Helaena’s three—are presented for photographs before being escorted back to the hotel by the nannies. And even in the few weeks that have passed since you last saw Aegon’s kids, there have been extraordinary changes. They talk to their father, and he talks back, and he ruffles their hair and rests his hands on their shoulders and asks them about what they’re learning from their private tutors. Cosmo tackles you before he leaves—a powerful bear hug, though he can only reach your legs—and he says he hopes you’re coming home to Asteria soon.

“Me too, kiddo,” Aegon tells him, and then smiles at you; but above his gleam of teeth his cloudy blue eyes, like the Atlantic in a storm, are gloomy and troubled.

As the audience takes their seats and the journalists are poised to capture the best images and quotes of the night, the three candidates and their wives (minus Wallace’s dear departed Lurleen) meet briefly backstage to exchange the perfunctory well-wishes. Pat Nixon is introverted and bookish, though she tries to hide it; but Aemond reels her in like swordfish until her eyes are filled with him. George Wallace gets one glimpse of your venomous glare and escapes, claiming to need one last trip to the restroom before the debate begins. But Richard Nixon beckons you to accompany him to a quiet, discrete corner of the room.

“I tried to call,” he says. He’s a remarkably normal man: medium height, receding dark hair, rough voice, weathered skin, not a god but a mortal, and—you have the impression—more aware of his flaws than his fiercest critics will ever be. “But no one at that damned beach house would ever put me through to you.”

You aren’t sure what he means. “Oh?”

“I never got the opportunity to tell you how sorry I was for your loss in July, Mrs. Targaryen,” Nixon says with unglamorous, plain, genuine compassion. “Pat and I, when we heard, we wept for you. We truly did. And for your husband to be clear across the country…I can’t even imagine. It must have been awful for you. A parent never gets over something like that. It stays with you like a scar.”

“It does,” you say softly.

“I lost two brothers. Arthur died when he was seven, tuberculosis killed Harold in his twenties. God, it just about destroyed my mother. You’re a remarkable woman. You’re lightning in a bottle for Aemond, do you know that? You’re like one of those Kennedy gals, but even better. More personable than Jackie. More intelligent than Ethel…although, to be frank, who wouldn’t be? And you’re not afflicted with any ghastly vices like Ted’s wife Joan. What would Aemond do without you? He’d lose, that’s what he’d do.”

Nixon’s smart, but he’s wounded. He’s capable, but he’s so desperate to prove it. Power could ruin a man like this. “You’re very kind, sir. You did some great work under Eisenhower. Self-made like my father was, a devotee of the American Dream. I believe you have an important role to play in this country…” You smirk, a bit mischievously. “Just not as the president.”

Nixon chortles. “No matter what happens tonight, rest assured that I hate Reagan more than I could ever dislike your husband,” he says, meaning the Republican governor of his home state of California. “You know that bastard tried to primary me?”

“Actors don’t belong in politics.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Nixon says, and then bids you farewell as the lights turn blinding and the curtain begins to rise.

As soon as the adrenaline begins to fade, all you can think about is that you can’t breathe. You take your seat in the audience between Aegon and Ludwika, who won’t stop making jabs about Nixon: “He looks like a troll,” “He looks like a sasquatch,” “Do you think Pat makes him wear a  Creature from the Black Lagoon mask in bed so she is not so repulsed by him?” The most you can offer is an occasional distracted nod in response.

“You alright?” Aegon whispers.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t look alright.”

“I’m great.”

“Sure,” he says, and he acts like he’s teasing, but there’s something tremendously sad underneath. He can’t save you from this. He can’t save you from anything. What must that feel like?

On the debate stage—broadcast to a national audience—Aemond performs brilliantly. Nixon salvages what could have been a bloodbath with a handful of clever retorts that Aemond pretends not to be rattled by. The real loser of the night is Wallace, who is brutally attacked by them both: Nixon because Wallace is commandeering some of his voting bloc, and Aemond because of his near-assassination back in May. After an hour, the contest concludes and the candidates descend to the main floor to pose for photos and get lassoed into brief interviews with various journalists. Everyone in Aemond’s entourage besides you and Aegon flock to his side. By now you’re gasping in shallow gulps, close to tears and in agony from your ribs to your wobbling feet.

“I told you,” Aegon says. And then: “Come on. We’ll take the first limo back.”

In the front room of your hotel suite—one yellowish end table lamp glowing dimly, the rest of the space like twilight—Aegon wrestles with the zipper as you struggle for every breath, trying not to pass out. “Ow,” you whine. “Oh fuck, this was so stupid…”

“Don’t let him make you wear shit you don’t want to wear.”

“I have to do what he says, Aegon.”

“He doesn’t own you.”

“Legally, he does.”

He’s tugging futilely at the jammed zipper. “Are you planning on using this again?”

“I believe that would be wistful thinking.”

“You probably look better out of it anyway.” He grabs his Zippo lighter from the pocket of his emerald green suit jacket and flicks it to life. “Don’t move, okay?”

“Okay.”

“At all.”

“Got it.”

You can feel heat, intense but not painful. Aegon has pulled the edge of the fabric as far away as he can from your skin and is singeing it until it turns black and charred and brittle. Then he tucks the lighter back into his pocket and with both hands rips your dress down to the small of your back. Cool air rushes to meet the ridge of your spine; goosebumps prickle all over. Aegon is marveling at you; you can see it when you glance over your shoulder at him. Then he lays a palm against your bare skin, leans into you, inhales everything you’ve ever been: smoke and sex and starlight, strategies, shadows, secrets.

The others will be pouring into the hallway from the elevator any minute. Aemond. Aemond could find us.

“We can’t,” you whisper, hating yourself for it.

Aegon kisses the nape of your neck—so slow, so kind—and then goes to the doorway. You wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t. He’s looking at you as you hold up the ruined gown so it covers your belly and your chest. You gaze back helplessly, wanting him, needing him, a moon chained to another world’s gravity.

We can’t, we can’t, we can’t.

“I’m so sorry,” you say.

And only then does Aegon vanish.

[shycloudkitty]

His Sweetest Escape

Summary: Leon returned from a mission. Safe but exhausted and traumatized as hell. He doesn't want to drown in the suffocating thoughts of survivor's guilt. He wants an escape. And you were always his sweetest escape.

Pairing: RE6 Leon Kennedy! × Fem! Reader 

Tags: (NSFW 18+), MDNI, FWB relationship, Angst at first, talking about Leon's trauma (necessary for the plot), Oral (f receiving!), Cunnilingus, fingering, sitting on Leon's face, nipple play, Leon being a tease. A bit ooc? Probably. 

A/N: Hello Guys!!! My FIRST smut fic is here🤭. Yes I know…FWB again, but I just really wanted to write a smut fic with that trope😭. Also I am very serious about minors not interacting with this post. Please don't.

(Edit) : This can be considered a sort of rough prequel to Just a little touch. Cause for a prequel I have something else cooking up🤭

Hope you enjoy this and have a good day!! 😊😊

A huge thanks to @elfven-blog and @luniaxi for helping me a lot. A little birthday (belated) present to @nexysworld 🥰

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

WC: 5.6K

Another mission. Another horde of zombies and tyrants. And dozens and dozens of lives that he wasn't able to save in time. But it was a successful mission or at least that's what he was told by his superiors. 

Leon tiredly pushed open the door to his apartment and deeply sighed as he slowly entered and closed the door behind him. 

It is said that a home perfectly reflects people's personalities. The things there give bits of how a person lives and wants to live, their likes and dislikes and much more. 

And his cold and empty apartment gave a perfect reflection on who he was. The furniture was there, furnished of course. But that was it. No decorations or signs of someone living there. And that's how he felt he was. A person who had all the features of a normal person but cold and empty on the inside. 

But then again he never found a home. This was just a place to live in. 

Leon found a whiskey bottle from the liquor cabinet and dropped to the couch, groaning as he sat down after a long time feeling his injuries stretch uncomfortably making him wince. Leaning his head back and staring at the empty ceiling, flashbacks of the mission running wild in his mind. Taking a big swig of his whiskey to numb it. Trying to forget everything about that God forsaken assignment. 

Leon kept drinking and drinking till he started to feel a bit numb to it and sighed tiredly to himself and pushed the bottle aside. Allowing himself to get a bit lost in his thoughts and closed his eyes. 

He was so fucking tired of all this fighting, fighting it to no fucking end and never seeing the ray of hope that all of this shit would end one day. Instead it only got worse. And he fucking hated it. 

His survivor's guilt continued to eat at him slowly and bit by bit on his consciousness, till he felt suffocated by it. 

He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath and groaned in frustration. The fuck was wrong with him? Actually don't answer that, he already knows. 

He took a deep breath to calm himself. Closing his eyes and taking small deep breaths. 

Leon shook his head to himself and sighed again. This wasn't going to go away anytime soon. And he really didn't want to wallow and drown in the guilt or he was sure it would kill him more than it already had. He wanted an escape. 

A sweet escape that always made him forget about the hellish missions and the guilt that comes with it. 

He opened his phone and searched for your contact and pressed the call button. Bringing the phone to his ear as it rang. 

For some reason he felt a bit guilty for only calling you for these things, which was weird because it has always been like this between you both… and neither of you minded it before. 

Maybe he needs this more than he thought. 

“Hey handsome” Your sweet voice rang in his ear from the other side of the call making his mood a bit better. 

He cleared his throat and said “Hey… Doing anything right now?” Trying not to sound too desperate for her and playing it cool. 

“Sort of… But… I can be free if you want~” trying to tease him a little bit. 

A small smile bloomed on his face when he heard that and teasingly replied. “You will make time for me huh? That's sweet.” 

You chuckle and tease him back. “Oh you know… I could never say no to you…or a good time.”

Your teasing words made Leon smile a bit more. Knowing you could always tease him a little and get away with it and he wouldn't mind it even once cause he loved the tease. 

Leon then says. “Then be free and come here.”

“Uff… So bossy. Can't add a ‘please’ in your sentence?” You asked in a playful way. 

“One more comment out of your smart mouth and I will come to your apartment to show you how bossy I can actually be.” Voice getting sultry as he teased you. 

It's not like it will be the first time he bossed a sweet thing like you around… always so eager to please him, following the orders he used to give you while you were a moaning & whimpering mess but oh, so ready to do them… just for him. 

How could he not feel like a God when you were always ready to be his devoted worshiper. 

There was a beat of silence, and Leon smirked knowing that teasing worked perfectly in making you flustered. 

He took the opportunity and said “Hmm… that's what I thought, now come here…please” emphasizing the word please more on purpose. 

You lightly huff over the phone. “You know you are making a lot of promises.” your voice was clearly flustered even if you tried to hide it. 

“Cause I can keep ‘em. I don't make empty promises and you know that…” His voice lowered. He knew how much he had an effect on you, and he couldn't help but use it to his advantage. 

Leon waited for a response. 

“...I do.” your voice came out more breathy than he expected. 

“Good girl… now come soon. I am waiting.”

He cut the call and tossed his phone aside, taking a deep breath. He wasn't going to lie to himself, he got plenty worked up from just one call and it was probably less than a minute. 

You were a damn vixen and he loved it. 

Now that you were most certainly coming over, he could at least take a shower. He got up from the couch with a groan and stretched his arms a bit and made his way to his bathroom. 

Removing his gear and soiled work clothes, he got in the shower and turned it on. Letting the water slowly wash the grime and dried blood away along with the horrible memories of the mission. 

Instead he focused his thoughts on you. He let his mind slowly fill with the sweet memories of you. Your soft red lips against his… They tasted like candy, sometimes cherry but always something sweet. 

And he especially loved when your pretty lips were wrapped around his cock…slowly taking him in and looking up at him with those greedy eyes all your senses focused on him to pleasure him. 

How could he not want a sweet thing like you around forever? 

But he wouldn't admit that out loud. 

Leon could feel himself get more worked up as he felt more images fill up in his head and groaned quietly.

He huffed lightly, and quickly finished his shower and got out of it. Moving towards his wardrobe and wearing his sweatpants and one of his casual blue t-shirt. And decided to wait till you arrived. 

15 mins later his doorbell rang and he grinned at the thought that it was you. And quickly walked towards the door and opened it. 

And there you were, a smile on your face and a soft blush on your cheeks. Wearing a white crop top and blue jeans to pair it up with and he couldn't help but smirk at the sight. He bit his lip lightly and teasingly said. “You came huh?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled playfully at his words. “You called.” your voice being equally teasing. 

He grinned and let you inside his apartment and closed the door behind you. 

“When did you come back from your mission?” You asked as you went over and sat on the couch and looked at him. 

“Today actually…” Leon said as he came over and sat beside you. You raised an eyebrow and said. “Today... Like..Just now?” 

Leon nodded and shrugged lightly and looked at you. “Yeah. Why?”

Your eyes widened and said. “Wow… aren't you tired and sleepy as hell?”

Leon chuckled and shrugged. “No, not really.”

Well to be fair he was exhausted but that's why you were here… to take it all away. 

You frowned slightly not believing his words. After all, he was gone for a considerably long time. You then slowly ask. “Are you sure?”

Leon just chuckled and teasingly replied with a smirk. “Don't worry your pretty little head about it… Although I am flattered that you care that much about my health.”

While he was grateful that you were concerned for him, he didn't want to talk about it. He would rather focus on you and get lost in you than talk about his awful work. 

You roll your eyes and smirk at him and playfully reply. “Please… I am only asking because I don't think you will be able to last if you just came back home tired as hell.” 

You knew what you were doing, but again a little friendly fire never hurts anyone. And in this, you don't care if it hurts you. 

Leon looks at you in amusement and scoffs lightly, shifting closer to you as his voice lowered. “You think I wouldn't be able to last long hmm?” Slowly bringing his hand to your thigh and caressing it gently while looking in your eyes. 

You bite your lip and slowly say. “You heard what I said… Did I hit the nail with that?” 

No, but you did hurt his ego. And he was going to prove exactly how wrong you are. All in the name of friendly fire. 

Leon started to gently run his fingers to your inner thighs and rub teasing circles there. His hand inching closer and closer... but never touching you where you really wanted him to. 

His lips curve in a smirk and biting his lip lightly. “You really think that huh...” his hot breath hitting your neck. His gaze falling on your lips, on how you are slowly biting them. 

Your face grows flushed and goosebumps rise on your skin as he… slowly moves his free hand on your other thigh and does the same thing there. His smirk grows wider when he feels you squirming a bit. 

Everything around you feels so much hotter now… his touch, his eyes shamelessly tracing every inch of your soft body. 

Leon watched as you cleared your throat and looked away from him. “Not really… I was just joking, you know.” 

Leon smirked some more and teasingly repeated your words. “Just joking hmm?”

Your breath hitches when Leon presses his lips on your neck and presses feather light kisses on it while gently nibbling on it too. You tilt your head back giving him better access, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth lightly scrape your skin.

Your perfume slowly fills his senses and makes his mind hazy with lust. You smelled so fucking good to him. All this teasing was doing a number on him. So much so that now all he wanted to do was to fuck you dumb against this couch and still keep going. 

He gently bites your earlobe and mumbles. “Can't have you making jokes everywhere on serious matters baby…”

You gasp as he suddenly spreads your thighs apart, settling himself between them. His bites on your neck get a bit more harsher as his hands start sliding to your ass. Gripping them tightly and bringing you close, pressing you against the couch and him.

He then whispers. “Can't have a sweet thing like you leaving my bed thinking my cock wasn't good enough for your pussy…”

You squirmed in his grip as his words shoot straight at your core. His touch felt as if it was burning right through your skin. You opened your mouth to say something and a small whimper escaped your lips as he bit down on a much sensitive part of your neck. 

“Oh Leon…” You mumbled and looked at him. And he quickly sealed your lips with a kiss and mumbles against your lips. “I know baby, You love that cock don't you? Love how good it feels when it ruins your little cunt.” 

A small mewl left your mouth as two of his fingers reached your center, sliding them up and down on your clothed cunt giving you the stimulation you were craving. 

Leon smirked at your little sounds and snakes his other hand under your crop top, slowly groping your right breast in his hand. And tauntingly says. “Yeah…Feels good when I give that cunt a bit of attention, Doesn't it? Already squirming under my fingers and I haven't even started.” 

Your body grew hotter as his fingers started to rub small circles over your cunt and now groping your breasts a bit harshly now. You can feel your panties getting wet from his teasing and lean more into his fingers to search for that friction. You whine and pout at him. “Leon…Stop teasing.”

He bites your earlobe. “You try to tell me what I should…And teasing you will be all I do tonight.” You pouted him in response and he just gave you a teasing grin.

As he says that he pinches one of your nipples making you jolt in surprise. You whine as he continues to pinch and roll it teasingly between his fingers drawing a needy moan from you. 

He then pulls away slightly and starts to unbutton your jeans and kisses you. He lightly tugs at your lower lip, giving you a pleasant shiver down your spine. Removing your jeans he cups your ass and drags it a bit closer for him to see. Smirking at the wet spot on your cute lacy panties. 

Soft moans and whimpers fall off your lips as he presses his thumb on your clit over the thin layer of the fabric and rubs slow teasing circles. 

His free hand makes its way to your chest and eagerly lifts your crop top and tugs your bra down to free your breasts. And latches his mouth to one of them and eagerly starts to suck on them, not even bothering to fully remove it.

He then starts to slowly suck on your nipples taking his sweet time with it while still paying attention to your cunt. His eyes are shut as if he was concentrating on the world's most important task ever. Your moans started to get louder and more whiny, and feel the flimsy fabric of your panties sticking to your folds by now.

He suddenly pinches your clit at the same time he gives a harsh tug at your nipple. Your body twitches from the sensation and you whine louder than before. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you gasped for breaths.

You looked down to see his face and whined to him. “Leon, I want more…please.” Your voice was more breathy than before. You gave him a pout and looked at him with those same needy eyes which he usually gave into.

He feels so proud for having you this way, seeing how quickly you used to melt for him and gave him the control he was so desperately craving without any resistance. And he loved it every single time. Seeing your red pouty lips, eyes filled with lust, messed up hair, flushed face, it made his heart skip a few beats every time… He could always get lost in your beauty and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Leon presses a kiss at your temple and drops another at your shoulder. And smirks and in a taunting tone whispers. “We just started baby, Already can't last hmm?”

Ass. That's what he was. An ass for using your words against you. 

He then pulls back and you whine at the loss of his touch. Panting softly, your skin feeling as if it was burning under his hot gaze. You look up at him and he wasn't any better but he had a better control on it. 

He grins and kisses you softly on the lips to make up for the teasing and softly asks “Want to move this to the bedroom?” You nod and kiss him back. Wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him close. 

You both kiss each other softly and he slowly removes the rest of your clothes and lifts you up in his arms and slowly stands up. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Your hands gripping his shoulders and continue to kiss him softly while he makes his way to his bedroom. 

He places his hands on your hips to hold you and never breaks the kiss even once. If anything he pulls you more close and deepens the kisses. He opens his bedroom door and slowly lays you down on bed and pulls away a bit and smiles at you and softly whispers. “Want more?”

You nod and he leans in close and deepens the kiss. Gently caressing your body all over, his hands kneading the soft plush fat of your thighs and hips. Tongue exploring your mouth sensually while kissing you. Both of your eyes closed while enjoying the sensual kisses and touches. This was much calmer than what you both were doing earlier but still very sensual to keep you both going. 

“Feeling better?” He mumbles against your lips. 

You chuckle softly and in a teasing tone reply. “I would feel much better when you actually start.” 

You feel a deep rumble from his chest as he laughs softly at that and shakes his head lightly. His voice takes a quick change from soft to sweetly seductive and whispers. “Fucking insatiable…Love it. Who could tell that a cutie like you was such a slut inside. But you are not gonna hear any complaints from me.”

Your cheeks burn red from his words as he now starts to kiss your neck and collarbone. A moan slipped from your mouth when he pressed himself forward and his boner made contact with your sensitive clit, letting you feel how much he was turned on right now. The cloth of his sweatpants gave enough friction to feel amazing as you started to grind against him, wanting to continue where he left off. 

Soft grunts slipped from his mouth as he felt you eagerly rub your pussy against him. A rough chuckle leaves his lips and he mumbles. “Patience baby…” and moves his hips away to stop it, pulling a whine from your mouth from frustration. 

He brings your lips in a deep kiss which you were more than happy to respond to. His hands found their way back to your chest to your breasts. Groping and massaging them and giving light tugs at your nipple which made your body twitch in excitement. 

He then tugged your lower lip, gave a harsh bite to it and tweaked your nipple lightly. He continues this motion of torturing you like this. While you lay there under him writhing and moaning for him. “Leon… I can't take it… please..”

The little piece of shit just laughs and tweaks your nipples once more making you whimper for him. And in a taunting tone says. “Oh yeah? You can't take it hmm? Too damn bad…”

You feel him rubbing those little buds under his thumb sometimes rolling it between his fingers while basically tongue fucking your mouth. You whimper, whine and even try to push him off but if anything that encourages him to do more of that. 

Soon you feel that invisible band in your stomach stretching and stretching… just waiting to snap. And Leon notices it, the way your body starts shivering and your moans get louder. He then leans in to whisper. “Gonna cum baby?”

You nod and look at him with a pout. “Please…” He just smirks and keeps doing what he was doing. Your body twitches and holds onto his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. You are just so close… Right… there. 

And he pulls away. 

Your eyes immediately shoot open. “Nooo!” A loud whine leaves your lips and look up at him with a frustrated expression. 

How could he do this to you? Such a fucking tease? And you were so fucking close and he just had to pull away and ruin it. 

He had a big shit eating grin on his face but he wasn't faring any better than you were. His shirt was clinging to his body, face flushed red and his hair messed up. And the way you can see his dick bulging in his pants proved he was just as pent up as you. 

He was just teasing both of you to hell. Asshole. 

You gave a pout as the tears from frustration started to brim in your eyes. “You are so mean…” 

Leon smiles as he leans down closer to you and softly coos to you. “Aww… is my baby angry at me?”

You nod and continue to pout at him. Leon smiles and takes your face in his hands. And kisses you gently on your soft lips. You don't kiss him back at first but you hear his soft whispers to forgive him for teasing you so much. “Please baby… forgive me? I swear I wouldn't tease you now… Kiss me back?”

And you really wanted to stay mad at him but… you couldn't do that for much long. 

How could you when he looked at you with those blue lust blown eyes and gave you soft kisses across your face to make you forgive him? 

You then slowly kissed him back and he was more than happy to oblige. Kissing you softly, taking his time to ease you and then he says. “Ride my face? I promise I will let you cum this time..”

Your face went red and your eyes widened and mumbled against his lips. “Really? Are you sure you want me to do that?”

You feel him nod, lightly tugging at your lower lip and say. “Of course…Want that pretty pussy of yours on my face.”

It's not like this was your first time riding his face either...

Your face goes red but you are more excited than embarrassed. You nod and kiss him back with more fervor. “Okay… I will.”

He pulls away and finally removes his clothes. Removing his sweatpants and freeing his cock from it. Groaning softly as his cock slaps against his stomach. Precum leaking from his cock. Spreading it with his thumb from his tip to the rest and lightly strokes himself. Hissing at how sensitive his cock was from all that teasing. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of him naked. His body was littered with scars but that only made him more alluring at this moment. You just wanted to kiss and nibble on each scar till he was red from all the hickeys. It always took your breath away when you watched him like this. 

You lick your lips and come closer to him and give him your most innocent doe eyes and make your voice as seductive as possible. “Can I taste you?”

Leon feels his cock twitch at the request and lightly bites his lips. He was really really tempted to take you up on that offer but he had other plans… 

He tilts your chin up and says. “Look at you… so eager for this cock hmm? Already want to wrap your pretty lips on it.”

You feel yourself getting more slicked from his words and eagerly nod. “Yes…please, want to suck your cock so bad…”

Leon smirks and gives a teasing kiss on your lips. “Some other time baby, want you to ride my face today.”

Your face flushes deep red and nod. “Okay…”

He grins and lays back down on bed adjusting himself with pillows under his head and motions for you to come up. 

You bite your lip and slowly crawl over to him. Slowly bringing your thighs on either side of his head, hands grasping at the headboard as you position yourself over his face. 

A loud groan leaves his lips as his eyes locks down at your drenched cunt. He licks his lips and feels his mouth water, he immediately grasps your hips and thighs and positions your cunt in front of his hungry mouth. 

You gasp softly as you feel him suddenly shift you more and look down at how hungrily he was looking at you. 

Leon moves his hands to your ass and squeezes it gently. And looks at you. “Come on baby sit. And don't hover, don't want to waste a drop of you”  His words make your stomach flip. Your heart thundering in your chest as you try to come up with something to say but feel your words stuck in your throat. 

You bite your lips and follow his words. And slowly sit down on his face and the moan he let's out when his tongue makes contact with your clit was downright pathetic. He immediately tightens his grip around your thighs and your ass, closing his eyes and lapping at your cunt happily. 

You moan softly as you feel his tongue give you lazy, slow licks from your labia to your clit. Taking his time with it, slowly tasting through your folds. Swirling his tongue around your already sensitive clit giving it occasional tugs with his teeth.

Your body twitches above him as your moans turn into cries of pleasure. Trying to move away from his face but he grunts and grabs your ass and pulls you back in. Giving your ass a light spank, “Don't move…” 

You squeal and close your eyes as you focus on his tongue, trying not to move that much. Biting your lip, one of your hands makes into his hair. He groans at the feeling of your fingers lightly threading through his hair. And pushes his tongue inside your sopping hole, slowly fucking you with it. 

He moans when he feels your juices on his tongue. You always tasted like a fucking heaven to him. He could stay between your thighs all day if he could. Drinking what you had to give to him while hearing sweet chorus of whines and moans as they left your mouth, his own favorite music to listen to when he came back home from those fucked up missions. 

You were his personal haven, letting him have you like this, he felt the luckiest man in the world. Feeling you tug his hair, squirming on his mouth and still riding his mouth like it was your last day on earth. He fucking loved it. He could get off on having you just like this. 

Your thighs squeeze around his head and tug at his hair a bit harder than necessary pulling a groan out of him. It only encouraged him to fuck his tongue into you faster. You squealed a bit as lifted you up a bit only to feel two of his fingers enter your cunt drawing a long moan out of you. Slowly sliding in and out of you, your wet walls eagerly sucking him back in. 

A loud groan leaves your lips when he starts to suck on your clit too. “Oh fuck…Leon!” Hips moving on its own, as he continues to finger you and tug at your clit. Curling his fingers inside and moving them against the spot which always made you see stars. Your body twitches and eyes roll in the back of your head as he moves his fingers faster. 

His fingers constantly assaulting that sweet spot within you, sometimes slowing them down to hear your pretty whines of protest and suddenly increasing the pace just to fuck with you. Feeling your thighs squeeze around his head tightly drawing a loud groan from him, the vibrations going straight to your core and giving you an instant jolt of pleasure. 

All the teasing slowly piled up and you felt that familiar band in your core just waiting to snap at any moment. You clenched tightly around his fingers. He hummed in satisfaction as he felt you do that, removing his fingers and pushing his tongue inside, wanting you to cum on his tongue instead.

He held your hips tightly to support you and let you ride his face as much as you wanted. Both of your hands going down to his hair, tugging at it while riding his face at your pace. Your clit constantly bumping against his nose making you a moaning mess above him. “Fuckkkk… Leon… feels so good… Just like that! Fuck! Yes!”

His eyes roll in the back of his head as he feels the stinging pain as you tug at his hair. Loving the pain and pleasure that came with it. One of his hands goes down to his cock and stroking himself in time with the pace that you set. Feeling himself getting closer and closer as you both kept going. 

He felt he could burst at any moment just from hearing the lewd noises you both were making. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

You open your eyes, your gaze drifting to the sight of him between your legs. And it instantly brought you closer to the edge than ever. His eyes were screwed shut, focused on giving you the high you were so eagerly chasing. His grip on your ass was tight enough to leave bruises, not that you cared.

You loved seeing his marks on your body anyway. 

“M’ gonna cum… so close…” you whined as you looked down at him. His eyes opened to look at the heavenly sight of you writhing above him and smirked. 

He winked at you and moved his tongue faster inside you and gave you a sudden spank from the hand that was already gripping you while he stroked himself with the other. 

You whine from the spank and feel that band inside you finally snap “Leon!”. He soon comes after you with a loud groan and hisses as ropes of thick hot cum fall on his thighs and abs. 

Your body twitches and shakes when the euphoria flows through your body. You felt so lightweight, feeling like you could drop at any moment. Leon gently grasped your waist with one hand and the other on your thigh, slowly helping you ride through your high. And eagerly drank up every drop. Humming softly in satisfaction. 

You whined softly still feeling his tongue swirl around your clit. You tried to get off of him whining softly in protest and he gently lowered you down in bed. His chin was soaked with your release as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. 

He brought you close to him, pressing you against him and giving soft kisses on your forehead and cheeks. Both of you were breathing heavily in each other's arms. His soft kisses act as a soothing balm to your tired body. 

You gently caressed his hair and face in return as he started to pepper kisses along your collarbone now. “Feeling good?” Leon's soft voice entered your dazed mind. You smiled lazily at him and sighed softly. “I feel amazing…”

Leon chuckled and gave a soft kiss to your crown and pulled you closer. “Good…I would be disappointed otherwise.”

You chuckled and teasingly say. “In me or yourself?” He snickered and replied “You of course. I am amazing at what I do.”

You raise an eyebrow at him and say. “And I am not?” Leon smirked and bit your earlobe playfully. “That’s up for debate…”

You scoffed, giving him an offended look at him and narrowed your eyes at him “Excuse me?”

Leon had to bite back a chuckle as he saw you trying to be serious, and he could tell that you weren't serious either. Seeing your smile threatening to take over your face.

You huff when you saw a chuckle slipping from him. “You are laughing at me aren't you?” Still keeping your eyes narrowed at him. 

Leon cleared his throat, trying his best to be serious. “No, I would never laugh at you.” 

You rolled your eyes at him and said. “Liar.” 

Leon chuckled, shaking his head in amusement and playfully whispered. “You look cute when you are angry.”

Your eyes widened at his words and looked away from him to hide your blushing face from his comment “Whatever.”

Leon chuckled. “Uh huh… What is this then?” Poking at your red cheeks. 

You pouted at him and huffed. “Nothing okay? Just shut up.”

Leon’s snickered and a mischievous grin spread on his face. “You want me to shut up? Sit on my face again and then I will think.”

Leon's smirk widened as he saw your face flush red and looking away from him, squirming slightly as you thought about doing it again. Leon squished your cheeks and turned your face back towards him and looked at you with a smug face. 

“You want to sit on my face again don't you?” A knowing smug smile on his face. 

Your face turned beet red as you felt yourself heat up again from his words and slowly nodded. 

Leon smirked and started to kiss your neck all over again and mumbled. “So...fucking...insatiable.”

This was sure as hell gonna be a long night for both of you. But none of you had any complaints. 

God. It's done. Oh my god. FINALLY. I honestly didn't expect this to take so much of my time but it surprisingly did. I guess it did cause it's my first time writing smut rather than consuming it lol.

Anyways... I hope you liked this fic. Hope it made your day!!🥰😊.

Until next time 😊❤

-Bella

[fluentmoviequoter]

Lonely in Misery

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here: Lonelier in Misery

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!paramedic!reader

Summary: Bailey notices that you're lonely and miserable while Nolan notices the same about Tim. They decide to set you up on a blind date, but it only ends with more sadness.

Warnings: mention of motorcycle accident, pure fluff (the title and summary are misleading, my bad)

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

A/N: @newobsessionweekly here's some soft Tim if you're interested🥰

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Let’s go!” your chief calls. “Motorcycle accident on Wilshire.”

You nod as you gather your equipment. Being a paramedic is stressful, but you work with an amazing team. It’s too bad you don’t have the same kind of community in your personal life. Working with your best friends is great until you can’t hang out or talk to anyone because they’re on different shifts.

“Single rider?” you ask as you climb into the ambulance.

“Dispatch didn’t say. Only called for one ambulance, so I assume,” your chief replies.

“Hey, maybe it’ll be a single guy and you can nurse him back to health and finally get a date,” your teammate in the driver’s seat jokes.

“Ignore him,” Bailey says, rolling her eyes.

“Ignore who?” you tease.

As the BLS rescue ambulance pulls out, you sit back in your seat.

“Are you okay?” Bailey asks softly.

“Fine,” you reply. “Just… I don’t know.”

“I get it. We, uh, we haven’t been able to hang out in a while. What have you been up to?”

“Nothing. Work, eat, workout, sleep, repeat.”

“Yeah, you’ve been kind of mopey.” She reaches her hand toward you and smiles when you lay your hand in hers. “This job is hard enough without being lonely. Why don’t you go on a date or just go hang out somewhere, meet somebody?”

You shake your head and brush off her concern with a half-true promise, “I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to when our schedules give us time to be friends again. If I can get out away from Nolan, of course.”

Bailey smiles and rolls her eyes but squeezes your hand reassuringly. You know she isn’t convinced that you’re fine. Your job is more important, though, so you decide to focus on the motorcycle rider who needs your help rather than the empty home, the empty life you’ll go home to after your shift ends.

“Hey!” Tim yells harshly. “Socialize on your own time, boot!”

His new rookie ducks his head and walks quickly after abandoning his conversation. Tim has been grumpier than usual lately, and he’s taking it out on everyone in the station. When he yelled at Sergeant Grey, who only shook his head and told Tim to take a breather, Nolan knew what was happening.

“He’s lonely, right?” Nolan asks Angela.

“Incredibly,” she answers without hesitation. “It’s been worse, though, so his sports buddies must have gotten busy, married, something.”

Nolan nods. He has an idea, but he knows better than to suggest Tim go on a date where he could overhear or be told. As he walks toward his shop, Nolan makes a mental note to ask Bailey if she knows anyone who would be willing to go on a date with Mid-Wilshire’s resident grump.

“Do I look like I care about your engagement party?” Tim asks across the garage.

“Hey,” Nolan says as he walks into the house.

“Hi,” Bailey replies.

Nolan hugs Bailey and sighs against her.

“I need your help with something,” Bailey says.

“Anything,” Nolan replies as he steps back. “But I need a favor, too.”

“My best friend is lonely and needs a date.”

Nolan’s brows raise as he adds, “My coworker is lonely and needs a date.”

“Did we just plan a blind date in under thirty seconds? Are we really that good?”

“Depends. Is your friend interested in someone like Tim Bradford?”

Bailey considers the pairing for a moment but smiles as she pictures you balancing Tim and him providing an edge that you haven’t experienced in years.

“Oh, yeah,” Bailey decides. “She’ll be interested.”

“Great! Now I just have to convince him to actually go on the date,” Nolan muses.

“Good luck.” Bailey laughs before she realizes, “I have to get her to let me set her up too.”

“Well, if she’s anything like Tim, appeal to her misery.”

“Yeah, because it’s better than absolutely nothing and complete unhappiness is the perfect way to pitch a date,” Bailey scoffs. “I’ll get my friend there, and you convince Tim your way.”

“I hope this works,” they say together.

“What’d you do last night?” Bailey asks as you exit the locker room.

You step back in surprise at being ambushed the moment you arrive but recover quickly. “I made dinner, watched a movie, and went to bed. Why?”

“Because you’ve got a date tonight, so we’re switching it up.”

“Bailey,” you begin.

“No, no, hear me out before you decline. Please? I’m doing this as your best friend, I promise.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Pitch this guy. But, Bailey Nune, if you say it’s Nolan’s brother Pete I will find a new best friend.”

“Oh, no. I love you, I would never do that. Besides, the whole point of a blind date is that I don’t tell you the guy’s name. But…” She raises her finger to emphasize as she adds, “Nolan and I both know him well and he’s a great guy.”

“You’re gonna have to give me more. I don’t want to go on a date just to say that I didn’t spend another night alone, Bailey.”

“Completely. I know you, though, okay, and this guy he’s- he can do and be everything you want. The romance, the connection, the best friend that is also your life partner, what you are looking for in a guy, this is it. I promise. And, if I’m wrong, I’ll bail you out of the date and I will clean your equipment for the rest of the month.”

You purse your lips as you think about her offer. She does know exactly what you want in a man, and you trust Bailey’s judgement. “Fine. I’ll go on the date.”

“Yes!” Bailey cheers as she hugs you. “I’m so glad. You’ll feel so much better after you’re not miserable and lonely anymore.”

“You should’ve been a motivational speaker,” you deadpan. “Now don’t mention it again until we get off. This can’t be the topic of conversation for the rest of the day; I’ll never live it down.”

“I’ll stay quiet and think of the perfect outfit for you,” Bailey says as she follows you into the heart of the station.

“Officer Bradford,” Nolan calls as he walks across the bullpen.

“Yeah?” Tim asks.

“I’ve got a proposition for you. Or a question, idea, whatever you want to call it.”

“Then spit it out, Nolan.”

“Right, yes, sir. Bailey has a single friend, and we want to set you up on a blind date.”

Tim’s face remains impassive as he shakes his head. “Pass. Ask Aaron.”

“No, Tim, I’m asking you.”

“And I’m not interested,” Tim argues.

“Look, you’re lonely and miserable, so you’re making all of us miserable. I know you – sort of – and I know this woman. She could be really good for you.”

“If you’re wrong? Because I think you are.”

“Then leave the date! You’re not losing anything more than a few hours.”

Tim takes a deep breath before he asks, “Why do you think she’d be good for me?”

“She can be the balance that you need, and she understands some of what we deal with daily.”

“Don’t tell me she’s a lawyer.”

“Oh, no, I know better than that. So… is that a yes?”

“It’s a hesitant yes,” Tim answers. “When?”

“Tonight.”

Tim nods once before he walks away to reprimand a rookie. Nolan watches him yell and hopes that he and Bailey are right. Because if they’re wrong and the date goes poorly, Tim will be worse in the morning.

You sit in the front of the restaurant and await your date. Bailey said he’d arrive after you. She never explained how you were supposed to find each other, though. As you watch people come and go, you grow discouraged. You shift your attention from the door to your hands. Several minutes pass before the door opens again, and you look up but don’t expect anything.

“Tim?” you ask.

You’ve seen Tim Bradford several times in passing. At wrecks, crime scenes, and various Los Angeles law enforcement meetings. He’s always been kind to you, and you remember that you may have mentioned finding him attractive to Bailey before.

“I’ll assume you’re my blind date, then,” Tim replies. He smiles as he adds, “I’m not as disappointed as I expected to be.”

“Wow,” you say through laughter. “If I’d known you were such a flirt, I would’ve asked Bailey to set us up sooner.”

Tim shakes his head, and you join his side as he gives his name to the hostess. As you walk to the table, a sudden awkwardness descends. There’s no good way to begin a conversation on a blind date, you realize. Tim takes his hand against the menu but looks similarly lost about what to say.

“I guess being lonely and desperate worked in my favor,” you joke.

“Oh, I can guarantee that I was lonelier and more desperate,” Tim replies. “Nolan used that to convince me to come tonight; said I was making everyone else miserable with my misery.”

The mood lightens with your playful jokes, and you smile at Tim.

“Since you’ve had to pull an arson suspect off me before, should we skip the small talk?” you ask Tim over your menu. “Or do this the normal way?”

“There’s nothing normal about this,” Tim comments.

Your phone buzzes in your bag, but the Are you still miserable? text from Bailey goes unread.

“Okay, I hate this,” you murmur as you set the menu aside. “Can I just sit beside you?”

Tim’s smile grows as he stands and offers his hand. Once you’re seated beside him, where you don’t have to lean across the table to talk, you don’t even remember the miserable feeling that led Bailey to set this date up.

Tim leans over to whisper, “I’m glad I agreed to the date,” and you move closer to him as you answer, “Me too.”

As you walk out of the restaurant with your hand in Tim’s and a joyful smile on your face, you don’t want the night to end.

“Same time next week?” you ask as Tim slows.

“What about the same time another day this week?” he suggests. “I had a great time, and I want to go out again. If that’s what you want, of course.”

You pull your phone out and hand it to Tim, ignoring Bailey’s text. He puts his number in and texts himself, so he has your number, too. You grow giddy, something you thought was a thing of your past.

“I think this is the best date I’ve ever been on,” you tell Tim as you begin walking again. “Thank you.”

“Nolan and Bailey are gonna take credit if we tell them the blind date worked,” Tim points out.

“Yeah,” you agree, drawing out the word. “But I don’t think I can hide how happy tonight made me. Not from Bailey, at least.”

Tim nods like he understands as you stop. You turn to face him, and he raises the hand that isn’t in yours to hold your cheek. There isn’t a question or doubt in your mind as you kiss Tim. What was supposed to be a date to cheer you up and get you back out of your mundane, lonely life is already becoming so much more. As Tim releases your hand to hold you and pull you closer, your entire world brightens. Neither you nor Tim are lonely, let alone miserable, with the prospect of a new relationship with one another. You pull back when you can’t stop smiling against Tim’s lips.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

“For what?”

“All of it.”

Tim smiles and brushes his thumb under your bottom lip. “If I don’t see you before Friday, I’m looking forward to our date. And I’ll pick you up at the fire station.”

“Are you sure about that?” you question. “Bailey will tell John.”

“They’ll have to learn sooner rather than later that there’s no room for them in our relationship.”

Your smile grows at our relationship, but you lick your lips to keep your excitement from showing. “They’re both born meddlers.”

“Let’s stop talking about them,” Tim murmurs as he leans in again.

Bonus:

When you arrive home, you see the text from Bailey and answer: More miserable than you can imagine. I’m going to sleep to escape it. Sure, you left off the part about being sad because the date ended, but she’ll find out soon enough.

[peachyloveswriting]

Hi can I request any jealous/ possessive ghost headcanons. Also if you’d want then can you ghost headcanons when he has a crush on you. Like the things he’ll do and say to you. Please?

JEALOUS/POSSESIVE --- Ghost

SUMMARY: Headcanons of Ghost being possesive and jealous. And him having a crush as well 🥰

NOTES: Sorry I've been away, got caught up in major writing block and depression that I had to work through. I'm still not all here mentally right now but I'll be better soon.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ ..♡

(In the military with him)

-> Ghost was never the possesive type until you came around. He's not typically seen fawning over someone so he's not particularly used to being like this himself. It all started as a small "bit" between the boys when you first joined 141. Everyone coined you for being so much like him in the way you worked. Sometimes your actions too but mostly the way you work, people called you Ghost's mini me for weeks before Ghost started dubbing you as Ghostling. The name eventually settled as Aries but he never stopped calling you Ghostling and that's when the teasing began.

-> Only a few months with 141 and it already felt like home, the only thing was you would constantly get told how you should pride yourself in being so close with Ghost, except you weren't close to him at all. Sure you knew him and talked here and there but he wasn't as close to you as you were Soap. What was even more strange was that instead of people calling you by your eventual call sign "Aries" you got called Ghostling. It never rang a bell until you heard Ghost call you that during a mission.

-> Soap's the most talkative of the bunch so he's always striking up conversation with Ghost when he can. Ghost, not being a man of many words doesn't respond too thoroughly, unless it's about you. After a few weeks of you being with them Soap asked about you and Ghost just wouldn't seem to shut up, even worse, the longer you were there the more he had to say. That was when the team noticed him hanging around you more and more. Suddenly it wasn't Ghost and Soap, is was Aries, Ghost, and Soap. You went with him everywhere or vise versa. Of course being the only new rookie, you didn't that that this was uncommon for him.

-> ghost started to notice that the more he talked to you and the more you hung around the more attached he became. It wasn't like an obsessive attachment but it was definitely an attachment. If you hung out with someone else without letting him know he'd find himself getting annoyed and frustrated, jealous even. That wasn't even the worst of it. Sparring, don't even mention that. He gets to unfathomably angry that he absolutely beats Soap's ass when its his turn to spar.

-> During many of his jealous fits he often had to remind himself that you weren't his and that he couldn't do or say anything to you and that absolutely destroyed him in every way possible. He'd catch himself going to pin you against a wall or kiss you in the most animalistic way during sparring. But he had to hold back.

-> Just when you were starting to like him, Ghost realized that he had feelings for you and immediately stepped away, isolating himself from you. He couldn't help lurking in the back of the room or dark corners watching you though. Once he started pulling away you began to seclude yourself from the group and barely talked to even Soap. Suddenly you were Ghost's Mini me again. Always quiet, quick to frustrate, and a tactical monster. That you were always but when he was around it was different. Eventually Soap began to notice this pull and started calling Ghost out for it. When you actually confessed it was strictly accidental, Soap was to blame for this.

-> Ghost's behavior towards you after you confessed pulled a completely 180. Suddenly he was always with you, sparring with you, eating with you, hanging out in your room when you weren't on missions, offering to go with you on watch. If he wasn't the one with you it was usually Soap, sometimes others in 141 but not often. Ghost didn't like it either way, it's hard for him to sleep when you're up there completely alone with a man who could have away with you if you agreed. Not that he doesn't trust you but that you're undeniably his and only his.

-> The first time he ever did anything about his Jealousy was when Soap flirted with you for the first time at a bar. Of course you laughed it off awkwardly while Ghost fumed in the background. Suddenly he was calling it a night and dragging you with, everyone was concerned but didn't bother to ask in fear of being obliterated by his anger. You didn't regret that night, as a matter of fact it was and is to the day the most pleasing experience you've ever had. That was just the surface of what he could do of course but something about it was special.

-> Ghost doesn't usually say anything when he's Jealous, more often than not he'll start playing with you during highly inappropriate times. The worst was during a stealth mission during a watch together, you, Ghost, and Gaz. You were sat up against the wall to shield yourselves from the snow with your guns in front of you. Suddenly you felt a warm ungloved hand slip into your pants and tease you for the rest of watch. It was nerve wracking to say the least but fun looking back at it now.

-> At bars, he sneaks up behind you slinking his arms around your waist and leaving a small bite on your shoulder. He doesn't do this often though, only when he sees another man with his eyes on you. From that moment forward he's all hands on, sometimes hands in places they shouldn't be. It usually leads to a wild night back at whatever bed you find yourself in.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[schoenpepper]

Rook Vs. Ramshackle

Intro: Ramshackle's in tatters and Crowley's a bitch. Luckily, your boyfriend is here to make things better! or worse idk

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread i got lazy with the format, Rook is a warning in his own right, a sprinkling of suggestiveness at the end

A/N: This is also a request so @voidlesslove I hope you like it. Kinda short, I don't think I had all too much inspiration with this one, kids.

Masterlist

Your dorm is never in good condition, constantly falling apart at the seams (literally). Crowley's stinginess with your allowance definitely doesn't help with all the repairs you need just to make the place livable.

You've had just about enough when your door cracks off its hinges and almost turns Grim into a tuna-filled cat pancake.

Enter your boyfriend: Rook!

He's always watching (affectionately), so the hunter comes to the rescue of his cutie in distress and pops up from a bush on your way from classes.

"Bonjour, mon amour! I have heard of your plight and have come to your aide."

"Hi Rook, there's a leaf on your hat."

Being the caring lover he is, he's more than happy to spend his own money to buy materials. (You turn him down when he offers to hire a renovation company)

The most important thing is that he will be paying for a majority of the items, can't have you floundering about due to a lack of cash, no no.

Surprisingly (unsurprisingly?) good with woodwork! He makes you a whole new door because the one to your bedroom doesn't lock + has holes that he could peep through.

He doesn't peep through your door though, he promises he looks through your window it has a better view.

Fixes up the floors with you and teaches you how to use the tools if you didn't know before.

Probably makes interconnecting rooms in some of the walls for future use (???)

It's okay, you'll never find out.

Treats you to roasted meat while you're both filthy af so you can take a nice little break before going back to repairing the holes in your roof.

What's this? Rats? Cockroaches? Any sort of living organism unwanted by his amour? Non, not anymore 🥰

Tell him you like Grim before the kitty cat gets purged.

The next day when Ramshackle is fully livable again (he had to actually call in professionals for plumbing and gas he cannot DIY that even if he tried), he gives you a bouquet of your favorite flowers as a housewarming gift!

Don't be too surprised when his hands start wandering during the hug though.

You've both been busy for a good few weeks and he thinks it's only right his hard work is repaid, no?~

[quintinh43]

Throwing away their piles of tissues when they have a cold.

With Nico hischier!!

Thank you for requesting 🥰 I know yall probably wanted to see nico taking care of reader, but as yall know I'm a slut for reader taking care of the boys and this just felt so perfect.

-

Nico was arguably the most stubborn mother fucker you had ever have the pleasure of meeting in your entire damn life. He was strong and kind and loving. He prioratized everyone before himself. Whether it be you, his family, his team, or a random fucking stranger on the street.

Which is how he ended up with the fucking plague. (It wasn't the plague, but your dramatics tended to get the better of you when you were mad at your boyfriend.)

"Nico Hischier, get your ass back in bed before I douse you with chloroform," you threatened, pushing his chest firmly back towards the bedroom.

"I'm fine, schatz-" he was cut off by a coughing fit that had him doubling over. Your demeanor did a complete 180° as you stood beside him, rubbing his back soothingly and muttering sweet words.

"Seriously nico, my love," you say, cupping his face between both hands after his coughing fit had passed, "you need rest,"

"But the team-"

"The team will be fine. They are in good hands. Plus, the faster you rest up, the faster you can get back to it." You say, stroking your thumbs over his cheekbones. He's burning up, and it makes your heart pang in your chest.

"But Schatz i- "

"Nico, please." You beg with a sigh, "if not for your sake, then for mine, so I'm not worried about you?"

Nico concedes with a sigh, walking back to the bedroom, "Let it be known this is to ease your worries and, not because I am sick,"

You roll your eyes fondly, tucking him into bed, "Of course, my love. Thank you for resting, for me" you plant a tender kiss on his forehead.

"Schatz! Dont kiss me, what if you my germs?" He says hoarsely, trying to fight off another coughing fit.

You cross your arms, staring down at him smugly, "I thought you weren't sick?" You tease.

He pales, realizing his admission. He opens his mouth to try and form an excuse but breaks out coughing again. You shake your head and brush his head back from his forehead. "I'm going to get you some cough medicine."

Nico tried to protest, but he's too busy hacking his lungs out. You wince and hurry to the kitchen, scrambling through the medicine cabinet for the cough syrup. You grab a bottle of water and Gatorade and go back to the bedroom, where, thankfully, Nico's coughing fit is over.

Setting everything on the night stand you pour the cough syrup into the spoon and feed it to him gently.

"Egh," he sticks out his tongue in disgust. You can't help but giggle.

"I'm gonna make some fresh ginger tea and some soup, and you'll be right as rain in no time, ok honey?" You say smoothing the crease between his eyebrows.

Nico has given up the tough guy act. He nuzzels his head against your hand, and you place another kiss on his forehead, much to his disdain. "Do you want me to turn on a movie?"

Nico shakes his head, "I just want you," he says tugging on your arm.

"I know, honey, I know," you coo, "As soon as I'm done making you soup, ok?"

"Ok, don't take too long," he flashes his infamous puppy dog eyes, and you're practically melting at the seams. "Keep drinking lots of liquids, ok?"

He nods, "And I'm right in the kitchen, so just shout if you need anything,"

He nods again, and you press one last kiss to his forehead before turning on 101 Dalmatians for him on the TV.

The soup doesn't take long. It's your mom's famous chicken noodle soup recipe. You ladle the soup into a bowl and grind fresh ginger, turmeric, cinnamon, and honey into a paste and fill the rest of the cup with hot water.

Nico looks worse than before. His skin is pale and clammy, There's a pile of tissues on the nightstand. His nose looks red and irritated, and he's sniffling consistently. He has the duvet pulled all the way up to his chin, and it's tucked around his shoulders to keep the cold out. Your poor Nico.

You set the soup on the nightstand, along with the tea, and gather his pile of tissues to throw them out. "Come on, Nico, sit up for me," you nudge gently.

"Can't Schatz," he murmurs "too cold,"

You pad to the closet with a sigh and pull out one of Nicos fleece hoodies. "Put this on, baby." You say handing it to him. He reluctantly removes himself from his blanket cocoon and pulls the hoodie over his head. He takes the bowl of soup gratefully, and you slip under the blankets beside him, curling against his side.

"Thank you, my love," he murmurs, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

You wrinkle your nose, "Ew, I don't want your germs Neeks!" You squeak, dramatically rubbing his kiss off your forehead.

He chuckles and then coughs. After he finishes his soup and complains the entire time he drinks the tea, the two of you fall asleep curled into one another. And if a week a later Nico is the one spoon feeding you medicine, and disposing of your snotty tissues well...

That's what love is.

[spideysbruh]

defender

liked by y/n and 5,166,266 others

tchalamet babygirl

view all 96,777 comments

timmysgf eughh brother eughhh

florencepugh you guys are the besttt

laurieslaurence mis padres

fxckyn do you think she forces him to post this stuff

tchalamet do you think you can shut up and log out forever ?

leexyn AHHH GOT YOUR ASS YOU MAD

liked by rachelzegler, chappellroan and 3,277,222 others

y/n no one knows about the words that we whisper

view all 91,266 comments

ynsblanket I'm so happy that she's surrounded by ppl that really love and care for her

busyyn fr she gets so much hate for no reason

sweetyn omg taylor and y/n crossover slayy

tchalamet 🥰🥰🥰

fuxkyn she always has to post him for likes so embarrassing

tchalamet and what do you post for your 3 followers? constant bullshit? does anyone even see it???

goodyyn ate her up LMAOOO

rachelzegler we've gotta sit around a campfire like once a month forever now

y/n liked

y/n no like let's make it a tradition fr

tsgf bro she needs a job

tchalamet she has one. unlike you

tchalamet just posted a story!

caption- my one and only

@timandynupdates just tweeted- NEW photos from this past week of Timothée and Y/n on vacation. They appeared to be having a deep conversation, as Y/n was crying at a certain point, with Chalamet consoling her.

@yoursongyn replied- ITS CAUSE OF ALL THESE ASSHOLES WHO THINK THEYRE TIMOTHÉES GIRLFRIEND ISTG

@ynsucks replied- THEY BROKE UP OMG

@lauriesrings replied to @ynsucks- bitch they're literally kissing after stfu are you dumb

@pinksyn replied- yall need to behave before they both turn off their comments. or worse and get off social media completely

@kylesgf replied- oh my goddd she's so overdramatic

y/n just posted a story!

caption- nothing and no one makes me happier than you do. @tchalamet 💕

liked by y/n, tayrussell and 4,166,266 others

tchalamet I love feeling like nothing else matters when im with you.

view all 101,166 comments

y/n i love you

fuxkyn ughhhh

florencepugh I miss you both!!

tsgf I've had enough of this bitch

tchalamet that's crazy cause I was just thinking the same thing about you!

tsgf wtf. i'm not supporting you anymore.

tchalamet thank god

zendaya yall disgust me every time we hang out

tchalamet and y/n liked

directyn TIMMY SHUT THEM UPPPP FINALLY

liked by sabrinacarpenter, tchalamet and 4,717,223 others

y/n is it new years yet?

view all 81,177 comments

rachelzegler jesus was seen.

liked by y/n

laurieslaurence MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL IN THE WORLDDD

tchalamet goddess.

liked by y/n

paulsgf why are all the comments nice😭 why we lyinggg

tchalamet the only lying going on is your parents when they said they were proud of you

spideyyn oh my g- 💀💀💀 LMAOOOO

paulsarrakis bro he hates these ppl LMAOOO

tchalamet yup

tchalamet like seriously babe, what the fuuuuck😩

liked by y/n

tchalamet just posted a story!

caption- golden globes 😳😳

@celebnews just tweeted- Y/n and Timothée Chalamet seen at a golden globes after party

@carpenyn replied- the hand placement in his story is killinggg me omgg hottest couple ever

@paulslauries replied- I rly admire y/n, she's shown so much resilience with the way she's been treated online, and she doesn't seem to let it affect her. mad respect 🙏🏽

@bluesyn replied- oh to be a fly on the wall for their convos

@mistleyn replied- THEYRE SO CUTE BRO WTFFFF😭😭😭😭😭💕💕💕🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

@timmylaurie replied- I love how he constantly defends her, even though he shouldn't have to but people are fucking weirdos

@fuxkyn replied to @timmylaurie- we're not weird, we just know that he can do better and she's no good for him!!

@badideayn replied to @fuxkyn- yk you're just proving their point 💀

y/n just posted a story!

liked by y/n, oliviarodrigo, rachelzegler and 11,543,555 others

tchalamet why is it so hard to let people live their lives? I don't know you, you definitely don't know me, and you never will. you don't know what goes on behind closed doors and the things that we talk about because people don't know how to act. that ends now, please stop. enough is enough. thank you

comments on this post have been limited

rachelzegler it had to be said! people can be cruel, I know firsthand how it can be

tchalamet liked

florencepugh well said!

sabrinacarpenter !!!!!

justinbieber some people will never get it. you guys got this!!

y/n JUSTIN BIEBER?!??!!

liked by oliviarodrigo, tchalamet and 6,266,277 others

y/n all mine

view all 121,555 comments

laurieslaurence TELL THEMMMMM

tchalamet my favorite person

logicalyn cryinggg they're so cute 🥺😭💕

kylesballs okay she's actually so cool wtf

curlyyn he'll choose her every time 🥺😭😭😭 I love them

liked by y/n, zendaya and 12,188,332 others

tchalamet my forever

view all 142,277 comments

jowegottahaveitout crying. he won't let them win!!

stayyn I KNOW THATS RIGHTTTT

y/n we're cute or whateverrrr

tchalamet liked

*

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Hello! Can I request small drabble with Astarion and his very chaotic adorkable son? Have a nice playthrough! :3

A/n: YES! More dad Astarion! Also thank you, I will 🥰

Astarion loved his little girl, so much like you. Nothing but kind eyes and smiles from his little Sun spot. So when you approached him, informing him that you were carrying his child, well he couldn’t help but feel ecstatic about it.

I mean it’s not like he was trying to get you pregnant again, it’s not like he wanted to see more little versions of himself and you running around causing havoc.

And soon his son was born, a splitting image of him as you would often say, but his son was not his nothing like his little girl.

His son had more of a….fiery personality though the others would see him as being more chaotic.

Astarion often found himself saying no to his children, it would be worse when then would look up at him with big eye, quivering their lips.

“Astarion!”

‘Of course Gale would have to spoil his mood, it seemed the man deemed it his responsibility to look at you whenever you were pregnant.

“What do you want now? If you are asking for my beloved ! She is sleeping…she’s been awfully exhausted.”

Scowling for a moment, Gale patted out his singed robe. “I am not here for that!” The man snapped, though he took a deep breath to calm himself as he stepped towards Astarion.

“I am here for your son.”

“And prey tell me what has my son done?” Astarion stated as the three year old rushed towards his fathers arms. “Because in my eyes, he can do no wrong.”

Scoffing, Gale turned his head away as you slowly walked towards them.

“Now look at what you’ve done, you’ve awoken sweetness with your loud voice.” Astarion snapped drawing you close to his side as his son buried his face into his neck.

Gale parted his lips then let out an irritated sigh turning his head away for a moment. He could have sworn he saw the little bugger flash him a smile before he turned his head back into his fathers embrace.

“Just, watch your son Astarion. He made a small fire, one that nearly wet my robes on fire.”

“Nonsense! My children can do no harm! Especially my sim.” He stated as Gale let out out an irritated sigh.

Shaking his head, Gale cleared out his throat as he tipped his head to you and your daughter that was clinging to Astarion’s pant legs. “Just…keep a better eye on him, or at least teach him how to properly cast the damn spell.” Clearing out his throat, he gave everyone a tight lipped smile. “Have a nice evening.”

Once he was gone, Astarion gave his son a smile as he tossed him in the air. “What a good boy you are.”

His son squealed with laughter as he then wrapped his arms around his neck. “You’re not mad papa?”

“Of course not! I’m just going to have to teach you how to sneak a little better.” Astarion glanced up at you, though you shook her head you did have a smile on your lips.

Feeling rather pleased with himself he started to walk off to were you both would train. “Now come along everyone.”

Rolling your eyes, you grasped your daughters hand following Astarion and your son. “Let’s make sure they won’t burn the forest down. The last thing I need is Halsin being upset.”

Nodding her head, her curls bounced as she skipped off to her father.

Pausing in your steps your hand moved your your growing belly, your gaze softening on Astarion and your children. After all the trauma he faced, you were happy to see him slowly recover.

“Are you coming my treasure?”

Humming, you stepped towards him as you took hold of Astarion’s hand. “Yes, but let me teach him somethings. I know the perfect spells.”

“Anything for you my love.”