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thealternateuniverse · 13 hours

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How did you handle it?

1st part here

A/N: Didn't expect the number of likes on the first part, thank you so much 😭

Also, I know now who does Paige's braids now. I saw her on tiktok.

Warning/s: Read at your own risk

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Following Ice's most recent live stream, Y/N's phone is constantly vibrating, and her Instagram feed is overflowing with follow requests and mentions. She didn't leave her apartment on the weekends after hearing from her teammates about their near-brawl on Friday night. She was trying to blow off some steam at the time, but she lost her cool and almost got into it. Azzi gave them a good earful, and Geno had more to say. Y/N apologized to her teammates, explaining that she was acting out of character at the time.

She felt a little better and forgot about her parents' divorce for a while. Not until her father texted her that he will be at her game next week. Dad is always the one who comes to her games; mom is too busy and cannot make time.

Frustrated, Y/N drops the dumbels.

"Yo! "KK, give me back my phone!" KK is running for her life, clutching Paiges' phone. Paige, on the other hand, looks terrified as if her life depends on with whatever is contained within her phone.

"Whaaaat! Dude, I just caught you stalking---asfghgjjhkjlhlk!" Paige caught up with KK and placed her palm on her mouth.

"Shut up!" She took her phone.

KK sounds like a dying goat now, with Paige's hands still on her mouth. Paige lets go of her and KK gasped for air.

"Shit, Hah! I just did not saw you do that P!" KK is shaking her head, laughing.

"I swear K, if you open your mouth I'll make sure that you will nev---" KK immediately zipped her mouth.

"You got it P! Your 'lil secret is safe." KK gave her a mischievous wink.

These two are as mischievous as ever.

Shaking her head, Y/N slips off her sweat-soaked muscle top, revealing only her sports bra. She could see Paige and KK's jaws drop from her peripheral vision. She turned towards them.

"What? "You guys have some saliva here." Y/N pointed to the side of her lip. The two appear to have come to their senses and instantly pretend to do something. Weird. It's as if they're seeing each other for the first time, taking off their clothes. Y/N twisted her hair into a sloppy knot and resumed lifting. She was halfway through lifting when Nika slapped her bum.

"Babe, I need you to braid my hair. Do you have a sec?"

She nodded to Nika and followed her. They walk past the others who were working out, and Y/N couldn't help but notice Paige and the way her biceps and deltoids popped while doing that damn pull up. Get a grip, Miller; you see your teammate doing this on a regular basis. Y/N reprimanded herself.

"So is mine eye enthralled by thy shape," Nika recited dramatically.

Nika came out laughing after noticing Y/N glancing at Paige.

"Don't worry, babe; she gets it a lot. And... Damn, did you just realized she's fine? You have to keep up; you have a home court advantage here." Nika winked. Y/N gave Nika a puzzled glance. It's not that she likes Paige; she just admires the muscles. That is it.

"I don't know what you're talking about, babe." Y/N said making Nika snort.

"Okay, alright. I'm blind, I can't see, must be my poor eyesight."

Y/N endured Nika's teasing while doing her hair; she doesn't want to appear defensive, so she allows her friend and pretends that Nika Muhl seeing her looking at Paige Bueckers didn't affect her.

"Thank you, Baby. "I love the braids." Nika blew her a kiss before they returned to their routines.

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Paige glanced around cautiously before scrolling through her phone. She couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake that had led to her being caught by KK. She wasn't stalking, though; the algorithm following Ice's live had led her to Y/N's tagged photos and edits on Instagram. It was kind of annoying that Y/N was now known for being the "pretty girl" from the team instead of for her talent as a player. Paige had witnessed firsthand how great Y/N was during her time at Stanford. If it weren't for her MCL injury during her second year, she would have been neck and neck with Nika's stats in the last 2022-2023 conference.

"Girly, you are still not done? Man you are really living up to be a stalker ." KK tried to glance at Paige's phone, Paige was quick to hide it.

"I am not!" Paige responded defensively.

"Of course, why stalk when you can see her every day. Home court advantage." KK playfully raised her brows and gestured towards where Y/N is, shooting 3 point shots. Yeah, Paige mused to herself. Paige knows she's got the home court advantage, always playing on familiar turf. Y/N, on the other hand, is a social media ghost, her posts as rare as a shooting star, reserved only for strategic brand alliances. Just like she guards the offensive players on the court, she protects her privacy with the same intensity, keeping her personal life shrouded in mystery.

"You are not gonna like this." KK's gasp breaks the silence, drawing Paige's attention as she leans in, sharing her latest sports article discovery. With rapt interest, they both delve into the words, their silent communion speaking volumes as they absorb every line, lost in the world of sports unfolding before them.

Sports Agent Katherine Taylor-Miller Entangled in New Romance Amidst Divorce

In a whirlwind of events, sports agent Katherine Taylor-Miller finds herself at the center of media attention following news of her divorce from husband Craig Miller. The prominent figure in the sports world, best known for representing basketball star Breanna Stewart, is reportedly embarking on a new romance with Los Angeles' top firm lawyer, Drew Ross.

While Taylor-Miller has remained tight-lipped about the circulating photos online, indicating her involvement with Ross, sources close to the situation confirm that the divorce proceedings are well underway. The couple, who share a daughter, aged 22, are navigating this transition as their family dynamic shifts.

Adding a layer of complexity to the situation, their daughter, a talented athlete in her own right, has been making waves on the collegiate basketball scene. Initially playing for Stanford University during her freshman and sophomore years, she has recently transferred to the University of Connecticut for her junior year, following in the footsteps of her mother's client, Breanna Stewart.

The unfolding saga has captivated both sports enthusiasts and gossip followers alike, as speculation mounts about the implications for Taylor-Miller's career and personal life. As the situation continues to develop, all eyes remain on the high-profile sports agent and her newfound path forward.

Paige's confusion bubbles to the surface in her question. "Wait, so... that is Y/N's mom?"

KK nods solemnly. "Yep. Didn't expect that."

Paige's brow furrows as she scans the article again. "That article is nasty. It was unnecessary to mention, Y/N."

The two exchange a knowing glance before their gaze shifts towards Y/N, who remains blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the tabloids.

KK weighs the options for a moment before nodding resolutely. "Very. She's not gonna like it. Do we tell her?" KK's gaze seeks approval from Paige, who meets it with a shake of her head, silently acknowledging the delicate situation and opting to shield Y/N from unnecessary distress for now. "She'll find out sooner."

KK lets out a low whistle, her disbelief evident in her tone. "Unbelievable. I never thought her mom is Katherine Taylor. That woman was a badass, but yeah, whoever wrote this has some unpaid rent due." Paige nods in agreement, a hint of frustration tainting her expression as they both recognize the injustice of the situation.

The sudden thud startles both Paige and KK. Their heads snap towards the source of the sound, only to find Y/N on the bench-side taking a water break, her hand suspended and her phone on the floor.

"That's what we're talking about."

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Y/N absentmindedly follows her teammates to Subway after they decided to grab some lunch there. Despite the buzz of camaraderie around her, she's lost in her own thoughts, savoring the simple pleasure of a break from today's events. Just as she starts to believe her day couldn't get any better, her world is rocked by the unwelcome intrusion of her parents' divorce being publicized.

Her heart sinks as she grapples with the sudden exposure of her family's private turmoil. Y/N has always been fiercely protective of her personal life, preferring to keep it shielded from prying eyes. The earlier article had already crossed a line, but this latest development feels like a betrayal of trust, a violation of the boundaries she holds sacred. She can't help but feel a surge of anger and frustration at the unnecessary intrusion into her family's affairs, a bitterness that threatens to overshadow the sweetness of her teammates' company.

Y/N finds a glimmer of solace in the silent solidarity of her teammates. As they gather around the table at Subway, not a single word is spoken about the tumultuous news that has shaken her world.

In that moment, Y/N feels a profound gratitude wash over her, a deep appreciation for their unspoken understanding and respect for her boundaries.

"The salad won't eat itself," snapped Paige, jolting Y/N from her deep thoughts. Y/N mechanically took a fork, but her salad remained untouched.

"Eat up, Miller. You need your energy." Paige commandeered the fork and began mixing the salad for Y/N.

"How did you handle it?" Y/N's voice trembled with vulnerability, causing Paige to pause mid-stir.

Paige didn't respond immediately, her mind racing to grasp the depth of Y/N's question. It didn't take long for the realization to sink in—it was about the divorce.

"When your parents divorced? How did you handle it?" Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears, a vulnerability she hadn't intended to reveal. Paige felt a pang of empathy twist in her gut. Y/N's question caught her off guard.

"Nevermind," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she wiped away the threatening tears. Determinedly, she finally began to eat her salad, hoping to distract herself from the emotional turmoil of the day.

As she savored each bite, Y/N made a conscious effort to push aside the weight of her parents' divorce. Her phone buzzed incessantly with texts and calls, but she only mustered the strength to respond to her dad via text. All she wanted was for their divorce to be finalized so they could all move forward with their lives.

Her thoughts drifted to the inevitable changes ahead. Her mom and dad would each go their separate ways, free to pursue new relationships if they so chose. While the idea of their family no longer being whole was a painful one, Y/N knew it was time to accept reality.

Above all, she yearned for one simple request: no more articles portraying her solely as her mother's daughter. She was determined to forge her own path, to carve out her own identity separate from her family's legacy.

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"You okay, babe?" Nika asked Y/N, slinging her arm around her shoulders. Y/N responded with her most convincing smile. "I'm fine," she assured Nika, though the skepticism lingered in her friend's nod. "Just so you know, we're here for you, okay?" Nika offered a comforting hug. "Thanks, babe."

As they strolled back to the university after lunch, Nika, Azzi, and Aaliyah had already forged ahead for their afternoon classes, while Paige had disappeared into god knows where. Y/N's afternoon lay open; no classes to attend. She pondered whether to take a stroll around her apartment's neighborhood or indulge in a swim in the pool.

Waving goodbye to her teammates as they reached the university's parking lot, she contemplated driving back home.

Sighing, Y/N parked her car and headed towards her apartment, only to be surprised by a waiting Paige Bueckers holding a pint of Ben & Jerry's chocolate fudge ice cream.

"Paige, don't you have a class or something?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige still in her training attire: a UConn Huskies hoodie, basketball jersey shorts, socks, and slides.

Paige handed her the pint without saying anything.

"You asked me how I handled my parents' divorce," Paige shrugged.

"W-well forget it. I didn't mean to ---"

"It was hard. I thought we were a happy family, that they had vows, through thick and thin, for better or worse type of shit. I was angry, wondering what could possibly make them decide they weren't meant for each other. They had me for Christ's sake. It hurt to think that one day they'd meet someone new and start over, and what about me if that happens?" Paige took a deep breath before continuing.

"The good thing is, I was able to understand that it's better to have that divorce than to pretend they're still happy. I saw how happy my father is with his new family, happier than he was with my mother... All I'm trying to say is, whatever you feel in your current situation is valid—all the thoughts running in your head, the what-ifs, they're all valid. You'll come to terms with it soon, just give yourself time to feel it. And don't forget, you have us. It sucks to be a divorce child if you don't have siblings. It's okay, Miller. You can mope, you can lash out, feel it all the way."

Y/N burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, surprising Paige, especially considering they were in a parking lot. Y/N didn't know why the floodgates had opened—was it the news of her parents' divorce? The stress of the article? Or perhaps simply the ice cream? Regardless, she found herself releasing all the pent-up emotions.

"Christ, Miller. I didn't expect you to break down right here," Paige panicked, attempting to pacify her, though Y/N continued crying loudly.

Paige gently grabbed her hand, and together they walked towards Y/N's apartment, Y/N still sobbing loudly.

"People will think I made you cry." Paige said shaking her head.

They entered Y/N's apartment, with Paige leading the way as Y/N was too preoccupied at the moment. Paige settled Y/N on her couch and opened the ice cream she had brought. Y/N accepted it and took a spoonful, still teary-eyed.

Paige looked at her friend in disbelief, finding her oddly cute in this vulnerable state, with red, glistening eyes and puffy cheeks from crying.

They sat in silence, letting the ice cream provide comfort. It worked, as Y/N's tears eventually ceased.

"Thank you, Bueckers. I needed that cry and... the ice cream. How can I ever pay you back?" Y/N leaned her head on Paige's shoulder, grateful it was Paige who knew her favorite ice cream flavor.

Paige pretended to ponder the question. "You don't have to. Just get back to being yourself," she said, gently ruffling Y/N's hair. Y/N sighed in contentment.

"I mean it, though. Thank you for being here. I was resigned to being miserable today," Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude. They exchanged glances, and Paige found herself momentarily lost in Y/N's mesmerizing eyes. There was something about them that drew her in. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get too carried away and do something she shouldn't.

"Yeah, it's nothing. Get yourself together, Miller," Paige replied, more to herself than to Y/N, feeling her ears grow warm.

"Are you okay? You seem... red?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige's flushed cheeks.

"Not as red as you are. You look ugly when you cry, Y/N," Paige remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N stiffened at the comment. This was the first time she had heard Paige address her by her first name. The surprise on Y/N's face caused Paige's brows to furrow.

"What?" Paige asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Nothing, you've never called me by my name before. Or maybe you did, I just didn't hear you," Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay it. She didn't want to make Paige feel awkward.

"I just don't know what to feel hearing it from you. It sounds different," Y/N admitted.

Paige choked on her response, caught off guard by Y/N's vulnerability. This woman will be the death of her one day. -----------------

#paige buckets #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #kk arnold #nika muhl #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #paige bueckers x reader

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youre-not-a-cat-youre-a-rat · 4 years

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Part 2 of my never written, Ian x Mickey Bob’s Burgers AU.

Again, I wrote this yrs ago, so it features characters that are apparently long gone:

Amanda and Lip run the Italian restaurant across the street, Ian and Mickey's main competition. Micky and Lip are arch rivals and Ian will try to intervene but then Lip gets him riled up by insulting Mickey and that means war. Occasionally the stakes are high enough for Amanda to join in the fight, but mostly, she's the one to shut down their squabbles. She and Karen are in a Cold War to take over the town. Amanda's divorced, and she got the restaurant even though it's named after her husband.

SAMMI'S MR. FROND OH MY GOD

Mickey officially quit smoking after their first daughter was born, but when he gets stressed or angry he sometimes buys and smokes through a pack. The kids always catch him and he has to bribe them to keep them from telling Ian. They tell him anyway and Mickey grumbles about how they're a bunch of snitches. Svetlana still smokes and Ian won't let her do it in the restaurant but Mickey's always joining her outside to breathe in her smoke. Occasionally Ian and Mickey are jointly angry/frustrated about something, and Ian will catch Mickey with a cigarette, and Mickey will freeze like a deer in headlights, but Ian just snatches it out of his mouth and starts puffing away.

"You're like a greasy Walt Whitman. But gayer.”

Mickey doesn't talk to the food he makes, but he totally names it.

Millie is the smallest of the kids and always makes comments about how freakishly tall Ian is. She thinks his height is wasted on him because he doesn't use it to push people around. Sometimes he gives her a ride on his shoulders and she yells loudly about how she's invincible and people better watch out. "Yeah, you better run, you little twerp! I will STEP on you!!" And "Pop, what are you DOING? Start tossing cars at airplanes or SOMETHING."

"Oh my god, am I your HERO?"--"UGH! SICK!!!"

When talking to their kids, Ian and Mickey refer to each other as "your father." Ian is "Pop" to the kids, but when they're referring to him when talking to someone else he's "one of my dads" or "my other dad." Likewise with Mickey.

"Your dad's cute"--"HEY, he is MARRIED to a FRIEND OF MINE."

Karen and Svetlana both have the hots for Mandy and she flirts with Svetlana shamelessly when she's in town. Mandy and Karen have an angry rivalry that’s full of sexual tension.

Svetlana meets Nika at a speed dating event that busybody Ian organizes. She's all cute and shy about it which Mickey and Ian eat up cause she's usually such a smooth operator. Millie is severely disappointed though, Svetlana's her hero, and she doesn't like her getting soft.

Fiona fills the Ginger role: Ian always seems to be gossiping with her on the kitchen phone.

How Ian and Mickey met: Mickey and Mandy moved in with their aunt after he came out to his dad (maybe they have an uncle who's gay and he runs the gay bar next door). And Mickey ended up working at his aunt's diner. Aunt Milkovich pushes Mandy to finish school and go to college where she meets Ian and gets him a job at her uncle’s bar. So Ian pulled all the late shifts which left him no time to sleep and hungry at weird hours. And he'd always end up at the diner after he got off and eventually charmed Mickey into spilling all about his fancy burger experiments and his dream of opening his own restaurant.

"And then she took me to her aunt's diner and I met this culinary genius. He made love to me with his spatula"

Sheila: "Oh my"

Mickey: "Not literally."

They chaperone Kathy's dance and Ian pitches a fit at Mickey looking at one of the hot teachers to give him some traditional middle-school-dance-drama and calls Mickey "Skankovich"

Nobody knows what Svetlana does for a living but they get the sense whatever it is makes her powerful and terrifying. She'll ask Mickey and Ian for some shady favor and they'll try to refuse but then she pulls out the "I seem to remember three big favors I do for you...9 pounds big." And Mick's like, "Woa, you got to name Yev didn't ya? Ain't that enough?" And she gets this look in her eye and Ian, cowering behind Mickey whispers, "Take it baCK."

Also frequently stated by Svetlana: "I am mother of your children"

Part 1

#ian gallagher x mickey milkovich #gallavich #shameless #ian x mickey #my stuff

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namjoonchronicles · 5 years

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needy | nj

↳ pairing namjoon x you

↳ genre fluff, angst, domestic au

↳ words 5k

↳ summary Namjoon usually have his priorities in order. the demands of his professional life frequently intrude the life he shared with his wife. pushed to the blunt end, cornered and helpless, Namjoon said the wrong thing to the most important person in his life, and now he has to deal with the aftermath: facing the wrath of his wife.

↳ song ariana grande ‘nasa’

And it began, with a blinking cursor on a blank page.

Namjoon exhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had taken a break after earnestly trying to write a passable verse. He picks his phone after a while and saw that his beloved wife hadn’t replied to any of his messages. It had been roughly four hours.

Unable to keep his composure any longer, Namjoon resorts to sending voice notes after two of his calls went unanswered.

“Can we please have dinner together tonight? I haven’t seen you in days, I’m losing my mind, I’m serious, baby stop playing around,” he huffs angrily, before pausing and then he resumes with a new breathe, “Call me back. Please.” He stressed on the word ‘please’, in hopes that it comes into picture how much he was in dire need of you.

Your toothbrush was in a separate holder, and you have your own personal toothpaste for use. You have dinners without him, and when he wants to talk, you would be typing on your laptop or watching a drama--which you deemed is more important than whatever he wants to talk about. Tonight, he sent you messages, and none of them were replied. But he heard the front door open, so he dashes out to see you taking off your heels and walking past him in the hallway, like he’s just one of the furnitures.

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling and calling…” he gently scolded. His nose picks up on something that wasn’t usually on you. His face sours as he said, “Why do you smell like nicotine?” You unzip your jeans and took them off before shoving them in the machine along with your blouse, turning a new cheek on Namjoon’s accusative tone, you forced out a smile. “Relax, it’s not me… Nika hasn’t quit, so she got them on me because we stayed in this awfully-ventilated karaoke room. She needed a friend to cheer up,” you patted his tummy twice walking out with your bras and undies, “Couldn’t hear you calling on the cell.”

Namjoon gawked and tailed behind you, “You usually tell me where you going everyday, I can’t get use to the privilege being stripped away from me; and can’t help remembering when I wanted it to be stripped away. Babe,” he urges you, hoping the term of endearment will give him an attention, but you continued stripping your bra and undie before wrapping yourself in a towel.

“Honey bear,” you called him, “I’m very tired. I’m so sorry I didn’t get back to your texts, but I’m home now,” you sang and walked inside the bathroom, but stopped Namjoon with your hand on his chest from stepping in. Pulling a fake ass smile on your face, tipping your glasses while standing in just towels at your husband. “I have a lot to do, so I’m just going to shower,” you politely spoke to him, before slamming the door in his face. And locking it.

Locking it. Namjoon was alarmed.

He begins to panic. His heart is hammering against his ribs, pounding erratically so he marches to his home studio, unable to take the sight of the door. You have never done that before. No one locks their door after marriage. You had been strange since a couple of weeks ago. You wake up, make coffee and then disappear until he leaves for work. He imagined you’d be home when he does, but all he found is food on the table and you would be on your table, next to the bed, typing with your earphones on.

Like tonight too, right after you showered. Namjoon peeked through the gaps of the door and took a shaky inhale. Once he decided he had mustered enough courage, he enters the bedroom with a mug of warm water. He sets them on the left corner of your table but you don’t notice until he pushes it further in. You looked up, and took off one of your earphones with a huge beaming smile that he had missed.

“That’s so nice of you, sweetie...thank you, you didn’t have to,” you took the brim of the mug to your lips before you realised that it was too hot to drink and set them back down again. “But I wanted to. I need… I need to talk to you,” Namjoon stammered, leaning against the door frame, making random movements with his hands and it’s all suggesting that his terribly nervous. “Is everything alright?” You spin your chair to face him, lacing your fingers together, ready for everything he had to say. Genuine concerns splayed across your face, regarding your husband’s trouble, whatever it may be.

I’m horny. Namjoon mentally slapped himself knowing that you will not succumb that easily especially when he had been an ass himself, all this time. Namjoon used another approach, a psychological one; you, his wife who bore a golden soul with a kindred heart would never past a chance to help anybody. This time, it’s him.

“I’ve been hitting the slump, as of lately,” he hung his head low, bending his index finger on your table, slightly mulling his words while you listened to him intently, “I feel like I cannot write a decent verse. And I’m afraid that I can never do it again.” You reached for his hand, softly but brief caress, the kind that you give a not-so-close friends and it hits Namjoon like a truck because he knows you can give more than just that. You’re limiting your skinship.

“You’re six feet tall, you’re not afraid of anything!” you exclaimed. “I’m afraid of you, so that’s not entirely true,” Namjoon scoffs.

You gave him a bro-smack on the forearm and crumpled your face into a grin.

“Why don’t you take a walk or watch some movies, you’ll get them back. You worry too much, what did I tell you about doing that…” you squinted your eyes at him and resumed typing on your laptop, “Sometimes we just have to push through you know, maybe get some decent chilly air outside or maybe just have some good nachos, you know, get back to basics, like Christina Aguilera used to say…” you gave him a half-hearted advice, glancing at him once in a while. Namjoon shifts from one foot to another, pressing his lips together, looking like he was disappointed with what your answers were.

Usually, when he was uninspired, or tell you he was uninspired, you’d be all over him, taking care of his needs. Manly needs. To get the creative juices going.

But tonight, it was clear to him that he wasn’t going to get any. He pouts more now, than he ever did when he was younger. Defeated, Namjoon returns to his studio and sat in his chair, and did nothing. For 2 hours.

Maybe he needed a more ‘aggressive approach’. So he climbed into bed shirtless, while you continue type on the laptop, not paying him a grain of attention. At all. He moves to the side of the bed where your study table was, and he cleared his throat.

“I was thinking, that maybe we could grab coffee this sunday, in that little english cottage cafe we used to date in, it’s been awhile since we went there,” Namjoon rambled only to realise that you had your earphones on, in full blast. He chewed the insides of his mouth and wet his lips, looking away and clenching his eyes shut. I can’t give up now, Namjoon thought.

He taps your elbow with his index finger, lightly and he got your attention. You hummed and took off your earphones, turning to him.

“Can I have some water, please?” he asked, scratching his bare chest so your gaze drops to notice that he is deliciously shirtless and ready for love, but you passed him the mug without another word said, and he replied an emotionless, “Thank you.”

“No problem…” you puffed your cheeks and went on Google to do further research on the self-help article you were trying to write for your blog.

Before you put those earphones back on, and not wanting to lose your attentions, Namjoon sat up to lean against the headboard to say, “It’s really hot isn’t it?” Your glint at him and you frowned at the screen because of his words, “It’s literally -4 degree celsius right now, Joon. Are you having a fever?” You pressed your palm on his forehead and retracted them when you feel nothing abnormal, “Hmm no, you do not. Maybe some sleep will help.” Namjoon’s plan fails again. But he is not ready to give up just yet.

“Maybe you should join me, so I could sleep better…” he bit his lower lip, attempting to be sexy but you exhale through your nose with the crumple of your face, “Then you’d be a lot hotter than what you’re feeling right now because, thermal equilibrium, you know… plus, I have a tonne things to do. So if you can’t sleep, you can go back to your studio and maybe, work?”

“Nah, I’ll sleep,” he rejected. You begin to unplug your laptop and gathering several papers with you. Namjoon switched to his side and asked, “Where are you going?” “Do my work outside because you need the lights off, to sleep,” you answered, and flipped the switch off, passing him a cute ‘goodnight’ and leaving the bedroom door fully shut. Namjoon has two choices: either he comes clean about what he wanted tonight and risk the rejection, or he sleeps being absolutely restless. A lot of things had happened.

He could go days into listing what they were but tonight, you crossed one more line. “Not even a goodnight kiss,” he grumbled and threw the duvets away. Before shoving his head through a thick hoodie because it was very very cold. Even colder when your wife wouldn’t make love to you.

Morning rises, Namjoon ran his arms down your side of the bed and see that it wasn’t messy as it should be if you’ve slept in it. When he walks down the hallway, he realises why. You had been sleeping on the couch, the whole night. Half-filled coffee mug on the floor, papers stacks on the left corner of the coffee table, and your laptop turning to black screen for inactivity. Namjoon wouldn’t dare to stir you awake but he was feeling very lonely. Despite living with you. It’s hard to manage micro distance, knowing you’re always on for a cuddling session, and now, you’re not anymore. Something flips in you.

Your alarm wakes you up, and have you jolted a little. You saw Namjoon standing there with both hands in his front hoodie pocket, wearing a maroon shorts. “You’re awake early,” you yawn, sitting on the chair, stretching and fetching your phone, first thing in the morning.

“Can we go out today? Together? Spend time...maybe?” Namjoon shrugs, voice still groggy from the deep sleep. You begin typing a message to reply to your friends, “Today? Sweetie I can’t, I made plans with my girls to have a spa day today… maybe next time, alright?” Not once you looked at him and you put a fist in front of your mouth as you yawned. You weren’t taking the conversation as serious as he was.

“I miss you…” he confessed, “so so much.” “I miss you too baby boy, but we can’t always have what we want,” you scrolled down your phone, mindlessly. “Can’t you do something about the spa day?” he persuaded.

“It’s been booked and paid in full,” you stood up and tied your hair up in a messy bun, “Look, my love, sometimes we have to learn to be apart. Have some space.” You stressed on the word ‘space’ and it hits Namjoon like a truck. And in your face, you were implying that it’s exactly what he taught. Unfortunately. You walked past him and disappear down the hall, your back growing smaller and smaller, the farther you get from him.

Right. Space.

You’re in the bathroom now, getting ready to leave the house again and Namjoon sat on the sofa, thinking of what he had done. For you to behave like this.

A few weeks ago, Namjoon returns home from being away for months. He has five weeks off. But his five weeks off doesn’t mean that he won’t be working. It meant, he has five weeks to finish writing the lyrics of the last few songs that may be included in the album. But it was a difficult theme to begin with, and he had been returning home, stressed. You’ve been a great help in reducing it. Cooking his favourite meal, driving him to places, hiking, walking endlessly etc. But one day, he felt smothered.

Usually, he wasn’t bothered by it. He was used to having you around, sitting on his lap, searching on his laptop instead of yours because his is always up and running, ready for use. So when he was in the middle of writing, you walked in with a mouthful of cookie, pulling his chair back like you always do, and sat in his lap to search for ‘Adverse Event Following Immunisation’ or simply, AEFI, since you were watching a debate between pro-choice and pro-vaccines in the television. It was a rerun and all your married friends in the chat room was discussing it, because they had children, asking you for explanation. But you can’t explain something you don’t understand, can you? This will be a quick revision and it could have waited but Namjoon snapped.

“Can’t you search it on your phone or something?” Namjoon spat, leaning back in his chair and you replied, “I wanted to but my phone died.” “I was literally doing my work, babe,” he sounds dejected and it didn’t take a genius to tell. “I’m sorry, let me just have a quick read-through,” you retorted.

“Please get off my lap…” his voice died. And you get off immediately, but move your hand to the mouse trying to close the window that you’ve used. “It’s suffocating…” he added and your heart tugged. But he isn’t finished there,

“What’s a guy gotta do, to get some space around here, geez.”

You clicked the close button quickly and swallowed a bitter gulp of saliva when it pools. You took his empty mug and smiled, “I’ll just get this refilled for you, hold on for a sec.” Trying to change the topic.

But he knows his words hurt you. That’s why he ran his palm down his face, with a sharp exhale through his nose and hand covering his mouth. Shortly after, he dashed out after you. And it all begin with a click of the door shut.

He saw you standing in the kitchen in front of the coffee machine, with the coffee not yet quite ready. Your butt sticking out while your head disappear in the freezer part of the fridge, on top. The cold air escaping on the sides then, you slammed it shut, after you fetch a popsicle. Namjoon couldn’t find a good word to say so he started with a soft call of your name and you hummed, cheerfully, as if he didn’t just hurt you. You’re a good pretender.

“I didn’t mean--” “--no, no, it’s okay. I totally understand you,” you smacked your lips together, licking the sweet and sour popsicle. Namjoon leans his elbow on the kitchen counter but you were standing by the sink, away from him. “You need space, I understand. I can be very smothering,” you gave him a lopsided smile, biting the top of the popsicle and chew the ice. “Work is very stressful, and sometimes we need to not be around people, I get that. It’s okay… go, go back to work, I’ll send you your coffee when it’s brewed, no worries…”

Weary of the seemingly positive response he had, Namjoon reassured that things were okay by asking, “We’re good, right?” You nodded, enthusiastically. But pays more attention to your popsicle than you do him. In your head you were already exercising a plan to leave him space, as he wanted. Or preferred. You admit it, you were too clingy. Too needy. So, you cut him off.

As he walked away, he couldn’t ignore the ominous feeling, lurking in his chest, spreading like wildfire, like something is about to go wrong. Very wrong.

You put on your red beanie, cream long sleeves, with a grey cardigan and jeans, ready to leave. There’s honks outside and your friends were waiting already. You managed to pass a quick bye to Namjoon and dashed out the front door and Namjoon’s despair begins. He has to get you back. And he had no idea how to do that. This space was too much space. He had to make it clear of what he wants and he has to woo you again. Question is, how?

Namjoon interfered with your changes, first of all. The separate toothbrush holder, gone. Your toiletries mixed up with his, like it used to. He vacuumed the whole house while you’re gone and put an incense to set the mood. You might have already eaten outside when you’re out with your friends but you wouldn’t pass a good steak.

Yoongi came over with bags of groceries, and rang the door multiple times. As he walks in to Namjoon holding the door open, he grumbled, “What the fuck did you do this time?”

Because the last Yoongi had to come was when Namjoon put his red socks in the pool of your white blouses for laundry that you loved very much and tried to play dumb.

“You asked her for space, rudely?” Yoongi thundered, “I don’t know if my steak is going to save you this time, man. I wouldn’t have let you live.” “I know, I know… I learnt my lesson, that’s why I’ve gone to great lengths. I plan to have this dinner with her, and talk about how we met. I bought her the frozen yoghurts that she loves, the one we had when we started dating. Then I’ll wash the plates while she showers,” Namjoon briefly tell Yoongi the plan.

“Why would you be washing the plates? You should be dicking her down,” Yoongi scowled. “I know my girl… she likes watching me do chores, it turns her on. But she’s rarely home to watch me so tonight, I’ll make her sit and watch,” Namjoon bit his smile, wiggling in his chair watching Yoongi cook, a diabolical plan in his mind. “What time is she coming home?” Yoongi asked.

Namjoon smacked his lips, and, “About that… can you call her for me? She won’t answer my calls and comes up with stupid excuses on why she couldn’t.” Yoongi dials you up, and after only two rings, you answered, “Hey Yoongs!”

“Hey… I’ve been trying to reach Namjoon, but I couldn’t get through his phone, do you know where he is?” Yoongi lied, and Namjoon sitting very close to Yoongi, that their shoulders touch. “Joon? He’s home, all that I know of. I’m outside, but I’ll be home at around 8pm, to check on him, will that be okay though?” you sounded like you’re in a busy street, walking on the sidewalks. “Yeah, that’s alright. Where are you? Why is it so noisy?” Yoongi asked trying to pry your location.

After a pause, you answered, “At the mall, I’ve been here all day. Window shopping, didn’t want to disturb Namjoon working…”

Namjoon dropped his head and stood up straight. Whatever Yoongi said after that, didn’t register in his head. He was feeling beyond guilty. You didn’t have a spa booked today, you don’t have plans with your friends, at all. You were at the mall, doing nothing, so you could be giving him space. Yoongi ended the call and finished setting up.

“Fix it buddy, I know you can,” Yoongi slapped Namjoon’s back firmly once, “I’m off.” “Thanks, hyung…” Namjoon sent Yoongi down and split second after that, your car entered the parking lot. At 8pm, like you said. Namjoon watched you from behind the pillar, looking at you with sad and frightened eyes. You stepped outside the car and locked them before heading to the lobby where Namjoon was walking out from his hiding to reveal himself.

“Hey…” you sang melodically, “I think I know you.” You beamed at the sight of him and he passed you a broken smile, extending his arm out so you could hold them but you held his sleeves instead. He had to manually put your hand where it was supposed to be, walking into the elevator. His chest heaves up and down at the most skin contact he had all week.

“How was the spa?” Namjoon asked, already knowing the truth.

“Expensive,” you lied, before shrugging the cold away. Namjoon kept silent, knowing that you decide to tell him lies. He walks ahead of you and a relaxed stride but you softly called his name, and stopped his swing of step. Then he turns his face to the side at you. You stood there, tiny and vulnerable, like how remembered.

“I lied,” you confessed, “I went to the mall and strolled around aimlessly after my friends dropped me back to the house at noon. I didn’t want to come home because I know you need to work… I’m sorry I lied.”

Namjoon extended his hand again, waiting for you to take them.

He entered the house and held the door open to let his lady love enter. “Wow, this smells really good, is that steak?” you commented and took off your jacket, “You have the incense lit up, what’s the occasion?” “Winning you back?” Namjoon tilted his head and pulled out a chair, waiting for you to sit on them before he pushes your chair in, all chivalry. “Chivalry is not dead,” you gushed as he took the seat on your left. He can’t bear to sit on the opposite end of the table, wanting to be as close as possible with you.

“Yoongi cooked this, didn’t he?” you asked. “But the idea was mine,” Namjoon shoved a grilled potato in his mouth, munching with a smile.

“We hadn’t spend time together, and I haven’t catched up with you in forever,” Namjoon shrugs. “Well, there’s not much to talk about from my side...I was trying to get more things to be busy with, and it’s kind of hard when my universe is centred around you, you know…” you gingerly cut a piece of meat with forks and knife.

Namjoon goes on talking about his friends at the office, and you returned with the similar situation with your family and friends. He learned that you attended an art workshop without him, and also got your laptop fixed while simultaneous working on an article on a rented laptop.

“It was rented… you didn’t notice?” you exclaimed with a huge smile. “It looks exactly like the one I got you!” he shot as loud.

“It was full of scratches, I would never let anything scratch my beloved laptop, not after all the services it had done for me,” you swirled the apple juice in your wine glass, taking a sip, while looking at Namjoon through your lashes. He rubs his hands together before he remembers he has desserts in the fridge with a small, “Oh!”

“Mango flavoured frozen yoghurts, for dessert,” Namjoon placed one cup on the table for you as he cleared the used dishes away and have it piled in the sink. You clean up your food really well. Maybe you didn’t have dinner after all.

“The same brand we got back when we’re dating?” You asked. “The very brand…” Namjoon confirmed. “They don’t sell these in the mart anywhere nearby, anymore,” you twisted your face while inhaling the mango yoghurt, pretty quickly for someone who had just eaten a plate of steak. “There is one small market down the west side,” Namjoon leans back, and took time with his cup.

“I like this flavour, reminds me of you,” you suddenly say. “Why is that?” Namjoon licked his lips, smiling at you, pressing his dimples. “Our first kiss tastes like mango,” casting your eyes down to your final spoon of yoghurt, you avoided Namjoon’s sultry gaze successfully. “If we kiss now, it’ll taste like mango,” he suggested but you just smiled and pushed the empty cup to him.

“I think,” you exhaled, “I’m going to shower after doing the dishes.” “No, I’m doing the dishes,” Namjoon passed his yoghurt, “I couldn’t finish mine, can you do the honor?” “You didn’t eat much of it at all!” Your eyes followed him to the kitchen. He chuckles but now has positioned himself by the sink, already washing off the first layer of grease on the plates, which weren’t many.

He hoped you still sit there, watching.

“You’re still there right?” he asked. “Yup…” your voice is muffled but it made him smile.

“The reason why I prepared this dinner is because I’ve been thinking about our conversations, regarding....space; that we had a couple of weeks ago?” he gave you his back, but you heard every word, clearly. “Yeah,” you felt the tension rising already. “I realised pretty much, immediately, how tactless my words were and even though I try to make sure everything is okay, by blatantly asking about them,” he pauses, and resumed after a deep inhale, “I know it’s not. I know you’re not.”

You hummed back, an indication that he has your attention.

“So this is me, fixing the shitty thing I did…” he sets one plate on the dish rack to dry, washing the other one now.

“I honestly feel that it’s truly understandable, that you need your space and I’ve been spoilt by you all these years, into walking in without permission, so I think it’s fair that I got called out the way I did. And I agree that I was too clingy, or needy…” So I gave you the taste of your own words, you thought.

“You set boundaries, and I understood that,” you added. “I didn’t mean putting your toothbrush in a separate holder; I didn’t mean you slipping in past midnight without telling me where you went; and I certainly didn’t mean for you to leave me in bed alone and left my calls unanswered. I needed space, but this was too much space,” he softens.

“I’m sorry, I was wrong,” you spat. “I didn’t plan for this dinner date, after so long, to result in another fight,” he turns around after the last dish set on the racks and wiped his hands dry with a cloth. Then he gives you, his back, to rearrange the chopping board back to where it was, the spatulas, the thongs, cleaning up after Yoongi’s stellar performance today. He made a mental note that he has to thank him later. He resumes,

“Through all these years that we’ve spent, we learn more and more things about one another. I love that we understand despite what’s not being said, and sometimes, even better than what we’ve verbally spoke of. I noticed that, I tend to be harsh in the way I put things. As how Taehyung would remind me. Shifting from being a leader at work, deciding and micro-managing pretty much everything, I admit that sometimes, I bring that attitude back home. On you. I realised that especially for you, I have to be careful on how I say it and when I say it. I’m still working on it. We don’t spend much time together to see how much I’ve progressed, and the times we already have wasted, because of what I said when I’m piled with work, certainly didn’t make things better…” He added a bitter chuckle.

He collects the cutleries and have it dried on a cloth, he turns the dish conditioner rack on for the night and then kept the peppers and salt on the top rack.

“I mean it, when I say I missed you, I miss us,” he murmurs to his chest, he looks up to see your eyes brimming with tears.

Your lips quivering, as a steady trail of tears fell down your cheek and settled on your chin before it pooled, and dropped to your lap when its weight was too much to bear. You roughly wiped it away with the back of sleeves, turning your face to the side.

“You don’t know what it’s like, having to be apart from someone you love, and be expected to wait in vain, no matter how long it takes, no matter how far; you just have to be fine,” your voice trembles as you spoke.

Namjoon didn’t interfere you and he stood there, listening. “I have this much time with my husband, just this much, before he has to go again, and I wanted to be as close as I can, with him…” you held your breath and resumed, “your words struck me at the wrong place, at the wrong time,” You wiped your tears away, harshly again. It just keeps falling doesn’t it? You felt pathetic.

Namjoon charges forward to you, and knelt next to your dining chair where you were seated. He gathered your hand but you needed them to cover your face so he covered both of his palm on your knees, instead. He looks at you with those doe eyes, pleading you for forgiveness.

“I did you wrong, didn’t I?” Namjoon purred, trying to look at your face, but you kept hiding it from view. “Fuck yeah you did,” you cussed, pressing the heel of your palms into the sockets of your eyes.

He rubs your clothed thigh, up and down, brushing his lips on your knee, pressing kisses on them. The only thing accessible for him right now.

“You think it didn’t hurt me? Having to stay away from you? But I had to persevere… because I had to, because you didn’t want me there,” you spoke through muffled cries. “I want you always,” Namjoon corrected you, “I do. I lashed out on you, like that. That wasn’t a healthy way of handling it.” “Namjoon, we need a code. Like, a way of saying ‘I need space’,” you started to gather your thoughts.

You put your hands in his, sniffing, and tipping your eyes up, in thoughts. Your face is red and flushed, your tear-stained cheeks, to Namjoon, you looked beautiful. Effortlessly stunning. For his eyes only. Your lashes are wet, nose turning pink, lips puffy and soft. Your voice was nasal, and you’re having hiccups. It was a painful sight, but adorable. Adorably painful. Namjoon didn’t want to ever see it again.

“We need to think of something that isn’t too strong because I have a weak heart,” you had trouble swallowing and breathing, post-crying, but it didn’t stop you from revising a good word to use, instead of ‘smothering’.

Namjoon pulled both of your knuckles and kissed each one of them, tenderly. He gave you a hug and you cried more. This was all you ever wanted. Your face in his nape, him nuzzling his nose on your shoulder. Namjoon clenches his eyes, twitching his face like he was scolding himself mentally.

“Can I please kiss you?” Namjoon whispered to your ears, feeling you pull away from the hug. “Hurry the hell up, what are you doing,” you scolded him.

He lands his lips on yours, kneading his flesh against your warm and soft ones, nibbling on the lower half, and tipping your chin up when you’re moving downwards. He lifts your arms to rest on either side of his shoulder, and you circled your arms around him in response. He switches to the other side, clashing noses with you, sucking your soul as gently as he can afford to.

You come into habit of lightly scratching his scalp with your nails when you kiss, tugging his hair once in a while, and it feels good. He would moan into your mouth at every tug, growing bolder with his tongue, biting gently, the way he remembers you like.

He lifts you from the chair without breaking the kiss, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he expertly maneuvered his way to the bedroom. The door is kicked shut behind him.

“And this is the baby shoes…” he showed you on camera. “And what are those for?” you teased him.

“Uhhh, I just thought it was cute, so I bought it,” Namjoon answered. “Funny, because I just bought baby socks,” you fall to your side on the bed, and took them out from the drawer to show him.

Namjoon gasped out loud, cutely. Then the camera pans to him smiling, till his eyes turns into a pair of crescents. He set his phone on the work desk of his office, where you could see and hear him typing. His eyes tipped up to the screen, looking very busy.

“Are we initiating ‘cave mode’ now?” you asked, crawling into the thick duvet. Namjoon’s side of the bed, empty. “No!” he exclaimed, “Not yet. Please. Cave mode is dreadful… I hate it,” Namjoon panics and then sombers down. You could see from the way his shoulders dropped and immediately stopped typing. “But you need it…” you sang, smiling teasingly at the screen.

He pouts. Here we go. It seems like the last time the word Space was used, traumatized him, so to speak. Or he is just being cute.

“You know you can’t miss me if I’m with you…” you coaxed him, “And your kisses are sexier when it has been awhile.”

He inhales deeply through his nose, and exhaling, “Fine.”

“NASA mode?” NASA mode.”

Video calls end. Jungkook walks in just in time to hear the ending of that call.

‘What’s the difference between cave and NASA mode?” “Cave is when I need space, NASA is when she needs space. You know, like Ariana Grande’s song, NASA?”

Namjoon started singing an off-pitch version of that song, doing the little dance in his swiveling chair, amusing Jungkook. Yes, his hyung has this cute side to him, too.

♫ Give you the whole world, I'ma need space I’ma need space, I'ma, I'ma need You know I'm a star; space, I'ma need space I'ma need space, I'ma, I'ma need space (N-A-S-A) ♫

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jadeloverxd · 4 years

Text

Two Parts Make One Whole

Originally posted on AO3

read tags!

Nika let out a sigh of annoyance as she yet again, could not find her phone. It's like I'm doing this on purpose. She pauses and frowns, eying her bedside table, Am I?

She was pretty sure she had more than a few missed calls from Tina and Verda, seeing as though she's slept most of the day away after a long night of patrolling. She'd even forgotten to ease Tina's worries by telling her when she headed somewhere, they both reported to each other where they were, but it wasn't unusual for Nika to forget. She just has the memory of Dory sometimes, and it annoyed her most the time.

"Maybe I should just forget about the phone and wait a few days until it turns up," she mutters as she gets up from her position on her knees and stretches, looking around he cozy little apartment.

It had been a while since she's had the entirety of Unit Bravo crammed in her apartment, sometimes she missed having them here with her, it... was nice for a change to actually have friends over. And then a thought dawned on her.

Wasn't there supposed to be a meeting with them anyways?

As if to answer her question three hard knocks sound on her door, startling her out of her thoughts, No surprise on who that is.

Adam's piercing green eyes appears as soon as she opens the door, a frown already marring his face as he scans her, "You didn't answer our calls."

Nika purses her lips, "I came home after patrolling and have no idea where I put my things," she says and steps aside to let him in, "I told you I have a really bad memory."

Adam's gaze softens as he looks at her, then returns back to its normal stoicism, "Have you been—"

"Writing down reminders and sticking them somewhere where I'll actually look at them?" She cuts him off and points at the window full of sticky notes overlooking the street, "Yep, and I've been forgetting to look at them each time I look out the window."

She purses her lips and nods more to herself than him when he casts an annoyed look at the window, "I can barely see the street," He comments as he moves towards the window and examines the multicolored notes.

She stares after him, a slight smile forming in her lips as he does, and walks up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She feels him tense for a second, before he relaxes and turns in her arms, "Hi," she whispers and tilts her head up.

Adam has to lean his head down for his lips to connect with hers, his own hands finding their place on her hips and brings her closer. They pull back a fraction of an inch, noses brushing lightly as they stare back at each other. "Nik..." Adam murmurs, his breath lightly fanning her face as he speaks.

"Hm?" She stares at him with a smile, her fingers tracing patterns on his back beneath his peacoat. It was relaxing him even further, causing him to bring her closer to his chest.

"I can hear your phone vibrating in the fridge."

"Seriously?" She groans and pecks him one last time before leaving his warmth and jerks open the fridge door, and it wasn't until then that Adam realised that he could see her bare legs from beneath the oversized t-shirt that made him look elsewhere, but not before trailing his eyes over the curve of them, "The hell was I doing in the fridge that made me miss thirty missed calls?" She questions to herself.

"Did you happen to eat yesterday?"

Now that she thought about it, the only thing she had to eat yesterday was a crumbly-as-hell granola bar, "All I had was a granola bar..." She grumbles, "I mean before the mayor called and started babbling on about God-knows-what because I sure as hell can't remember why I was patrolling!" Adam hears her stomach growl Nika plasters herself back next to Adam, "All I wanted was a half-dozen donuts to myself but forgot about them as soon as I ordered them."

Adam's lips tilt up a bit, as he leans down to kiss the crown of her head, unable to resist. Ever since they'd started in this... relationship a year ago Adam grew more attached than he should have been to Nika. Each time the thought of him stopping his chest tightened and went cold, it took him a while to realize that it was dread, at the thought of leaving her. "Work will do that to one."

"Will it ever stop?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because you've been alive for almost a millennium," she snickers.

"Well in that case no, it only gets even harder until you get used to it," he answers.

Nika's light brown eyes meet his, a stray curl falling from its loose style on her head and his hand itches to move it out of her face, "You might be this stoic, angry, old vampire but you have so much sass and sarcasm hidden in you."

He glares down at her, "And know this how?"

"I was born a sarcastic child mkay?" Once again she steps of his arms and heads down the small hallway towards her room, "And don't think I can't feel your eyes on my legs. Because I can. Not that I'm complaining." Adam can feel his face heating before scowling and turning towards the window, ignoring the faded reflection on the window of her changing her clothes.

"So what has my lovely vamp friends and mother been doing these past few weeks?"

"We've been doing we'll. Your mother as well," he pauses,

"Mason is starting to miss you more than Felix it would seem." He recalls Mason's admittance of missing their detective, and was surprised that Mason would do such a thing—they all were. But Nika changed them all for the better.

"Uh-huh. And what about you handsome?" Her voice sounds next to him, and forces him to look down at her, the light flecks of green in her eyes drawing him in.

"I've... missed you as well, even more since we last saw each other." And today he was anxious to see her again, and this time he didn't bother to shut down Felix and his inconsistent need to tease him about it.

He hasn't thought much about it, but each time he did, he realized he loved Nika to bits, and would practically do anything to see her, his job and the Agency be damned.

And from the look on Nika's face, she felt the same way.

"Awe, I missed you all too. You most of all," she kisses the corner of his mouth and nips playfully at his jaw, "Now if you don't mind, I'm starving and really don't want to start chowing on another granola bar for a long while."

"Hey Adam?" Nika lightly taps her foot to his leg, and takes another bite of her danish, and looks at him with adoration, "I love you, like, a lot."

Adam smiles and traps her foot with his knees, "As do I."

Her eyes widen, and she wipes at her face, "Smile more often hun I think I'll survive if you keep smiling."

Adam rolls his eyes and let's her foot go and drags his eyes all along the bakery, the sweet smell of pastries wafting from the kitchen and the faint sound of chatter meeting his ears. It was around one in the afternoon, the others had finished the meeting without them, leaving them with the rest of the day to themselves.

And to say he was happy was an understatement. He was beyond happy and so relaxed that even when it should have weirded him out, it didn't. He supposed he felt like Nate after a while, and made a mental note to thank Nate yet again for being his longtime friend.

His eyes drag back to Nika, watching her eyes close as she takes another bite of her food. The hole that had been there—the emptyness within his chest—filled as he watched her, and then he realized something as he watched her, an expression of awe taking over. She was the missing piece of his soul that he had yet to find after all these centuries. She was the one that made him not feel alone anymore, like he still has something to live for. And he does.

And he will keep living until until she doesn't, he vows to himself.

Nika's big brown eyes meet his, pink tinting her ears as she wipes her face with a napkin, "Something wrong?"

"Sorry?"

"You're staring at me like I just did something mighty."

"Maybe you did," he muses and sets a tip on the table leaving her shocked and confused, "Are you finished?"

She nods, shying away from his gaze—which she normally had questioning why he felt a certain way with her and oh! how the tables have turned—and instead, favoring to stare at the empty plate in front of her. "Good, let's go."

"Go where?" She waves goodbye to a woman behind the counter top and hooks her arm with his.

"We have the rest of the day to ourselves," he says and looks down at her, "Wherever you want."

Two weeks pass and Nika sees the same awe-struck expression on Adam's face each time their eyes meet. It's like he just looked at her again and thought her a higher being than him. She couldn't lie, but she enjoyed the look on his face, at least he wasn't frowning or scowling his trademark scowl. Well, he did when the rest of Unit Bravo weren't looking.

And sometimes, when she had no choice but to stay with Unit Bravo after a long day of work, she would make her way to Adam's room without so much as a thought and snuggle up next to him if he was willing, which was every time she went to him. Or even when she wanted Adam to stay with her after dropping her off at her apartment.

And for a vampire that didn't sleep much, she was shocked when she woke up next to him, his face relaxed as he slept.

She didn't want to wake him, but that was kind of unavoidable, so she just favored to run her fingers through his hair gently until he woke up and pulled her close, burying his face in her chest and muttering something she couldn't understand and rolled over on top of her, nipping lightly at her chest, moving up to trail kisses up the exposed base of her neck to her chin to capture her lips with his, hooking her legs up and around his waist as she arched up into his touch and moaned.

That spurred Adam onward, his hands slipping beneath her shirt to trace a line under her bra, his eyes asking a silent question.

"Yes," she breathes and drags him up for another searing kiss before breaking away and lifing her arms up to take the shirt off her body. Adam takes her hands away from the clasp of her bra and laces his fingers with hers, touching his forehead with hers and closed his eyes, the nearness and the scent of Nika invading his senses and seeping into his bones.

He reaches behind her to unclasp her bra and tosses the garment somewhere behind him and lightly traces his lips up and down the valley between her breasts, causing her to arch up into him and use her legs to pull him closer.

She moans his name and runs one hand through his hair as he rises above her, his hands trailing up and down her sides leaving sparks and desire behind every touch as they move down her neck to her breasts, caressing both until she's arching off the bed and lightly moving her hips against his panting softly.

His hands trail down over the soft skin of her stomach to the waistband of her shorts, but he stops and waits for her to open her eyes and look at him. When she does, she lets out a frustrated noise and tried to pull him back in—

"Are you sure you want this?" As he speaks, he barely even recognizes his own voice.

Nika sits up, not breaking eye contact as she places both hands on the sides of his face, "I'm not leaving you, if that's what you're trying to ask," her thumb trails over his cheekbone as he leans his face into her touch, "I won't wake and regret a single action that we make beyond this."

Adam's eyes search hers for any sign of something, but only found truth, and he smiled a full-toothed smile before he brought her against his bare chest and crashed his lips to hers, pouring everything he felt into it.

Happiness, a burning desire, contentment... love.

Nika shifts to get the rest of her clothing off without breaking away from him and fumbles with the tie of his sweatpants. He chuckles a bit at her attempt and pulls away with a nip slipping off the pants, keeping eye contact with her as he does with a slight smirk. She wouldn'tve guessed he was going commando, not at all. It didn't do anything to deter her as he sprang free, flopped down next to her and pulled her on top of him, trapping himself in between them.

Nika leans down and lightly sucks a mark into the pale skin of his neck, and she had no doubt that it was likely to be gone within the hour as she rocked back on him and lifted herself to position him at her slit, bumping the head of him against her clit. His hands find themselves in her back, her waist, everywhere as he lowers her, staring up at his mate, the one he would love and cheeto forever until he's at the hilt, and they're both panting, basking in each others nearness.

Adam's fangs ache as he does an experimental thrust, Nika moaning low and scratching her nails down his chest—and oh how he did not want those to heal—and thrusts up into her again peppering kisses up and down her neck, this time brushing up against that spot that made her see stars.

Adam groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against Nika's skin making her burn hotter as she clenches down on him, moving with him and chanting his name like a prayer and plea. His fangs elongate as they move faster the slick noise from their joining audible and only making things better as he sinks them into her neck without so much with a second thought—just as Nika screams his name within her apartment bedroom as she came, him following after a few more hard thrusts—and marks her as his mate, shuddering as the aftershocks subsided and lapped at the marks until the bleeding stopped.

They stay like that, him on his back and her remaining on top of him, laying on his bare chest.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" Nika kisses the spot right above his heart and smiles at him. And he suddenly felt a wave of love directed at him...

"Plenty of times, yes," his answer was lighter as he smiled at her, running his fingers down the curve of her backside. He felt like he was floating, and wanted to stay there for as long as they could.

"Well then, I will tell you again, I love you Adam du Mortain, as much as I love everything, with comes as a hard second after you," she moves up to brush her lips against his, And I'm honored to be your mate. She sends to him through their bond, just as she kisses him passionately.

"Nika Orys I am grateful that you accepted me as yours just as I have accepted you as mine," he breathes, "I will love you till the ends of time."

#Wayhaven Chronicles #Book 2 #Spoilers children #floof and smut under #ao3 #Female Detective/Adam du Mortain #OC

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