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#this gifset has been cooking in my mind for a while now so-
whenfatecollides · 9 months
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Xena & Gabrielle + The Way
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javier-pena · 3 years
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triumvirate
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Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie
Word Count: 13.7k (I know, I know ...)
Rating: Explicit (and I mean explicit, this is the most explicit thing I’ve ever written)
Summary: You and Javi have been talking about inviting someone into your bed, just to see what it would be like. But you had no idea he already has someone in mind.
Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol | some language | threesome (f/f/m) | thigh riding | fingering | oral (m and f receiving) | light choking | light dirty talk | unprotected (p in v) sex | praise kink if you squint | size kink if you squint | orgasm delay/denial | sub!Javi until he’s definitely not | multiple orgasms | creampie
Notes: This started as a brief conversation I had with Dani @javierpcna while making a gifset actually, and it turned into this huge fic involving a character that doesn’t even speak a single line of dialogue (yes, this is Katie, the woman from the elevator in s3e1, the one who looks at Javi ... respectfully). I actually don’t remember the last time I had this much fun writing anything, so I guess I will be writing more Javi fics in future ... also, as always, huge thanks to Dani for putting up with my crazy ideas for a week, for encouraging me, for sacrificing a Sunday evening to read this, and for kindling the flames that brought this on in the first place! Also I believe Javi doesn’t share but he can be a bit ooc - as a treat ...
***
Javi doesn’t like to talk about his work. He doesn’t like to “bring it home” with him, even though the word “home” is all relative to him. He keeps quiet about it when you’re at his flat, that’s sacred ground to him, but your flat is fine. So when he’s at your place, he sometimes talks about his colleagues, the paperwork he needs to finish, how his boss got on his nerves today. You know there is much he could tell you, a lot he doesn’t share on purpose, and some things he never mentions because he’s not proud of them.
At first, you are worried because he doesn’t let you in. You aren’t used to having someone in your life who keeps so much hidden from you, especially someone you slowly, over time, start to share everything with, from a cup of coffee over breakfast, over a cigarette during a hasty lunch break, to sighs and moans, joined hands and heartbeats under the cover of the night. Especially someone you slowly but surely find yourself falling in love with, someone you want to share your life with, but also someone who doesn’t seem to feel the same way, who keeps a part of himself hidden behind tailored suits and starched shirts. It makes you nervous and wary when he never answers your questions, it hurts you when he changes the subject, sometimes quite cruelly, but over time you begin to see this arrangement as something enjoyable.
In all your previous relationships, you’d mostly talked about work, discussed your day, asked boring questions to get boring answers from your partner. Maybe that is the reason why they never lasted – you were so preoccupied with involving each other in your professional lives that you never focused on the personal aspect of your relationships. But with Javi you’re forced to talk about something else, about anything else, books, movies, music, travels, that little dog you saw on the street today, how your mother is doing, the sock that has gotten lost in the dryer. And you love this about him, love how you’d gotten to know an entirely different version of him than most people know. Granted, he doesn’t watch a lot of movies and he doesn’t listen to a lot of music, he hardly ever has time to read, but he’s seen the world, he tells you stories you don’t bore of hearing repeatedly, while your fingers lay entwined on his broad chest, the warmth of his skin seeping into your body, his breath tickling your hand, while he talks, and you listen. Sometimes, on the rare occasion he cooks for you, he tells you about his childhood, about how his mother taught him to kill a chicken (“If you can eat it, you can kill it”), about how is father gave him his first beer to drink when he was eight (“It’ll make a man out of you”), about how his grandmother showed him which spices to use for what dish (“Never mix garlic and lemon juice, it’ll turn the garlic green”). It’s moments like these where you feel he trusts you. You don’t need him to give you a detailed rundown of his day, to tell you how badly his morning coffee tasted, how boring his meeting was, how much his colleagues annoyed him. Getting to know this personal side of him, the one you know he doesn’t usually share, that’s enough for you.
You trust him, and he trusts you.
His withdrawnness when it comes to his work is the reason you’re completely caught by surprise when you’re over at his place one cloudy Saturday afternoon for a late lunch and he mentions work. You’re the one cooking this time, a stew your grandmother taught you to make, and while you wait for it to finish simmering, you sit at his small kitchen table, lost in idle conversation. And no matter how idle those conversations get, talking to Javi is never boring, and that is one of the things you love about him. But when he does mention work – and nothing prompts it, no probing questions on your part about a torn shirt you find lying discarded on his couch, no need to share something with you out of weariness and frustration on his part – you are immediately snapping to attention. It’s infuriating how he does it, casually, while he fills a glass with tap water for you.
“There’s this girl at work,” he says, and your ears prick up at the word work, immediately on guard. He turns off the water but doesn’t turn to look at you when he continues. “I think … I think you would … like her.”
It’s so uncharacteristic of him to be this careful, almost flustered – is that a flush you see creeping up his neck? He’s usually very assured, he usually has no trouble making eye contact, he usually says what he needs to say with as little or as many words as he sees fit. So when he stammers and blushes like this, you can’t help but smile. You can guess, of course, what this is about. You’ve mentioned a few times that you miss your friends back home, that you sometimes feel lonely and wish you had more people to talk to. And he remembered, he listened to you and he remembered, which makes a warmth spread from your chest to your limbs, and the corners of your eyes crinkle with a soft smile.
“Is that so?” you ask teasingly.
He turns around and takes the two steps to close the distance between the sink and the table. You take the glass from him as soon as he stands in front of you.
“She’s … nice,” he tries to elaborate. He sits down next to you and takes your hand into his, his skin warm to the touch. His thumb brushes over your knuckles as he watches moisture gather on your glass. It is a hot day, and the windows of his small kitchen are open, allowing for the sounds of the city to drift in, to swirl around the two of you, to give you some background noise to the comfortable silence that sometimes settles between you. “She’s funny,” he continues finally. “Ambitious, too. Junior agent. You have a lot in common.”
That sounds more like the Javi you know; observant, good at reading people, good at making connections. He’s still not looking at you though; it feels like he’s asking you something big, something life-changing, not like he’s trying to help you find a friend.
“Yeah, she sounds nice,” you agree. You raise the glass with your free hand and take a sip of water. “I’d like to meet her.” And even if you shouldn’t get along, there is no harm done. But you feel like you will because Javi is very good at reading people and if he says that this woman is someone you would like to spend time with, you know you will.
“You would?” His head snaps up in surprise, and it makes you smile again. As if you could ever refuse him! And if he’d ask you to move to Antarctica with him, you wouldn’t hesitate. But you can understand his tentativeness because you haven’t technically told him that. Yes, Javi is easy to talk to, but not when it comes to feelings. Those conversations are reserved for the dead hours of the night, for when it feels like you two are the only people in the world, for when you both know you can open up to each other, be at your most vulnerable state without the other person taking advantage of it, of crushing it like a fallen leaf. And you haven’t had many of those conversations yet.
Still, your heart picks up speed at the thought of how he’s looking out for you, of how he met a woman at work and thought to himself that you maybe would like to be her friend, how he was nervous to bring it up because he thought he might have misread your needs. But if there is one thing Javi is brilliant at, the one thing no one else in your life has ever been able to do, it is reading your needs, interpreting them correctly, and then acting accordingly to them, doing everything he can to care for you and look out for you, sometimes even at the expense of his own needs. You wouldn’t be able to tell that about him by looking at him, by hearing how his acquaintances talk about him, but there is a soft side to this man, one you feel very protective of.
You nod with enthusiasm. “Sure, why not? If she’s as great as you say, then I don’t see why we wouldn’t be getting along.” You are very curious to meet this woman. He’s hardly given you any information about her, but still, she sparks your interest.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Good.” He also nods, but when he does it, there is an air of determination to it. It feels like you’ve just agreed to some big plan you don’t fully understand, not to having lunch with one of his colleagues. “Listen, there’s this work thing next Friday.” His voice gets lower with each word, so he pauses to clear his throat. “I think you should come along, meet everyone … officially. She’s also gonna be there, it’s a good opportunity …”
Now you can’t help but giggle. He squeezes your hand, and you squeeze back. “You’re very eager to introduce me to her, aren’t you?” you tease, but there is no malice in your words. You’re actually flattered he’s talking about introducing you to his colleagues, about bridging that divide between private and professional.
Your fondness for him gets lost in translation, and your words fall on different ears than they are intended for. “I’ve been telling everyone at work a lot about you –”
You cut him off with a firm kiss that elicits a low growl from his chest. “Javi, I’m already convinced, okay? No need to lie to me,” you whisper against his lips, your hand brushing against his rough cheek. He has to understand that he doesn’t need to pretend with you, that he can be his true self around you.
He lifts your entwined hands from the tabletop and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles. “I’m not lying.” You want to believe him, but there is a glint in his eyes when he looks up from your hand and locks his gaze to yours. It would be wise to be annoyed with him or tease him in turn, but you can’t help yourself. Every time those brown eyes land on you, you feel a pull towards him you cannot quite explain but also cannot ignore. You have to give in.
Still, you roll your eyes in a valiant attempt to keep up a semblance of dignity before pushing yourself off your chair and onto his lap. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck and you grip it and hold onto it as you carefully roll your hips under the pretense of finding a comfortable position. Both his hands immediately land on your sides and squeeze.
“Then let me give you something to tell them about,” you whisper, your lips right next to his ear, and nothing beats the feeling of pride rushing through you as he pushes his hips up, chasing a tiny bit of friction. You’re sure it’s basic instinct, something he can’t quite control, and you love nothing more than making him let go.
***
You thought you would be meeting Javi’s colleagues at a bar, but then you find yourself in front of a nice restaurant. It’s the only place in town that sells good burgers, or at least that’s what the man at your side tells you. You were planning on getting pleasantly drunk, not making conversation while trying to coordinate a knife and fork, but you think you’ll manage as long as you stick to your companion.  
But something about Javi feels off tonight. He nervously fixed his tie in your hallway mirror when he picked you up (usually he doesn’t care about the state of his tie’s knot), he didn’t talk to you much during the drive to the restaurant (usually he points out little details he notices about the city or takes this opportunity to compliment you), and now he keeps fiddling with the cuff of your blouse as he leads you up the stairs to the restaurant’s entrance.
You’re also nervous, mostly because you haven’t met any of the people you’re about to be introduced to, and you don’t know if you’ll have something in common with them or if you’ll spend your evening sitting alone in some dark corner nursing one fancy cocktail after the other. If there’s one thing you’re not good at, it’s going into a situation unprepared, and Javi did nothing to help you build up some expectations about what to expect from tonight. To be fair, you didn’t ask. You didn’t ask about the colleagues you’re about to meet, you didn’t ask where you were going to meet them, and you didn’t ask about the woman he is planning on introducing to you. The reason for your silence? You didn’t want to annoy him, show him just how insecure you are.
But you feel oh so apprehensive about this evening. Your positions are reversed now – suddenly it is you who thinks it might not be such a good idea to mix personal and private. You have no answer as to why you feel like this. It is just a dull sensation in the pit of your stomach that makes your hands feel cold even though it’s a hot, humid evening. It makes you want to turn to the man at your side and ask him to go home. But you won’t. Because despite the dread you’re feeling you’re kind of excited at the prospect of meeting this new colleague he mentioned to you. There is an air of mystery around her that intrigues you because he hasn’t talked about her since that afternoon almost a week ago. And you appreciate the gesture of him biting the bullet and mixing the two sides of the coin that is Javier Peña so you can find a friend.
Once you make it inside, Javi leads you to a group of people who are already standing together in a cluster. The introductions are over way too fast, and you don’t remember a single name. Most of the men you meet look the same to you – they’re wearing suits in different shades of blue and grey and brown, broad, colorful ties, and big smiles. You’re smiling too as you shake their hands, while Javi introduces you to them as his girlfriend, and you know he would because he told you he would, but it still makes you feel warm and tingly, and it cements your right to be here by his side. You’re pretty sure you keep smiling at him like a lovesick teenager, but you don’t care. He’s smiling too, keeping close to you, a hand at the small of your back or on your elbow, his chest always right behind you for you to fall back into should you seek comfort.
Sometimes, you feel him stiffen behind you when a few of his colleagues crack jokes about how you were able to tie down the elusive Javier Peña. He rolls his eyes at their remarks, but you laugh along. You know about his reputation, you know about his past relations with other women, but you don’t mind. Why should you? You also don’t mind his colleagues’ reactions – all you care about is that this feels right at the moment and you wouldn’t change it for anything. But you do understand a bit better why Javi was wary of you meeting his colleagues.
To your relief, there is enough to drink, and soon you find yourself standing at Javi’s side, a bottle of beer in your hand, while you listen to him talk to a man about ten years his senior. You don’t understand much of what they are saying – they’re using so many abbreviations it sounds like code – but Javi stands with his hip cocked to one side so he’s leaning close to you, and you enjoy feeling the ghostly shadow of him by your side. Since he doesn’t like to talk about his job, you enjoy seeing this relatively unknown aspect of him, this other man who’s like a stranger to you, who talks with so much confidence and poise that you cannot help but listen to his every word. And you understand why he seems to be so admired among his colleagues, why they were eager to shake his hand when you arrived, why they seek out his company, why they wave at him from the other side of the room. He’s good at what he does, competent, capable, he knows how to be in charge of a situation without obtruding, and you feel such a strong pull towards this side of him you have to take a big swig from your beer bottle to hide how much this is affecting you. The last thing you need is him teasing you about it.
But before your behavior exposes your desires, he suddenly moves away, and you’re pulled after him, not so much in motion but in attention. He’s spotted someone, a woman, and he’s leaning down to press a light kiss to her right cheek before turning to you.
“This is Katie,” he introduces her, and there’s something in the way he says those three words that makes you pause. You smile at her as you shake her hand, but then your gaze flickers back to Javi who suddenly looks at you like he did in his kitchen six days ago, unsure yet with an edge of something more, something you can’t fully grasp, and then you know.
This is the woman. This is this girl at work that he thinks you’re going to like.
You turn your attention back to her to look at her, to see what he’s seeing. She’s shorter than both you, with long, brown hair that she wears in open waves. You think she has a winning smile and kind eyes, and you immediately want to get to know her better. She compliments your blouse, she makes a joke about something Javi did at work the other day, she’s even holding a bottle of your favorite beer. She seems to be all Javi promised her to be.
Then why is he looking at you so nervously, like a small boy bringing home a teacher’s note?
Javi introduces you as his girlfriend, and Katie doesn’t miss a beat before she says, “Oh, he’s told me a lot about you,” with one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen.
“He has?” you ask. You’re not fishing for compliments. You’re genuinely surprised, since you hadn’t expected him to be sharing his private life with his colleagues, much like he doesn’t share his professional one with you. The thought of him talking about you with this woman who is standing in front of you, makes you smile. You decide to tease him about it. “You two spend a lot of time together then?”
Katie’s smile flickers, if only for a short second. “No, it’s not –,” she starts, but Javi interrupts her before she can finish.
“Katie likes fishing,” he says.
It catches you completely off-guard, as does the look on his face. He raises a hand and lets his fingers run over his lips, something he always does when he’s nervous, while he waits for your answer.
“I do,” Katie says with an enthusiastic nod.
You have no idea what’s going on, but you decide to play along. “I go fishing with my dad whenever I’m in the States,” you tell them.
“Oh, that’s nice,” Katie exclaims, and it should, by all means, sound like something she’s only saying to be polite, but it doesn’t. Instead, it sounds like she means it. “Where are you from?”
“North Carolina,” you answer. It’s something you don’t talk about often because it’s not interesting. If you were from California or New York, people would follow up this revelation with questions and stories of their own. But North Carolina? You always feel a bit embarrassed about mentioning it.
But Katie’s reply is something you haven’t heard before. “You don’t sound like you’re from North Carolina.”
Maybe you should be offended – you don’t know what she’s implying with this – but for some reason it just makes you laugh. “Thanks,” you say.
“No, oh my God,” she backtracks immediately, “I didn’t mean to offend you …”
“You didn’t,” you assure her with a dismissive wave of your hand. You glance at Javi then, and he’s following your conversation like a cop watching his partner interrogate a suspect, like he’s afraid of missing just one syllable of what you are saying. His whole body is rigid, his hands are balled into fists at his side, and his face is a mask of pure concentration. “So,” you start again, turning back to Katie, “what has he been telling you about me?”
Several tables have been put together to stand along three walls of one of the biggest rooms in the restaurant. As you sit down and skim the menu, Katie answers your question. Javi speaks of you differently than most of their colleagues speak about their wives or girlfriends. When he talks about you, it doesn’t feel like he would rather do anything else than spend time with you. Quite the opposite, in fact. It makes your face grow hot. You try to distract yourself by ordering your meal, by changing the subject (“So, tell me, Katie, where are you from?”), by watching Javi talk to a middle-aged woman next to him, by watching Javi make her smile.
Katie tells you everything you want to know, answers all your questions in great detail, but always turns the attention back to you. When you ask her about her favorite music, she asks you about yours. When you ask her about her family, she asks you about yours. When you ask her what made her take a job in Colombia, she asks you about how you came to be here. It is a dialogue, not a monologue. She tells you about her brothers back home, about how one is a bank manager while the other went into environmentalism. She tells you she’s always wanted to go to Europe, and she hopes her next DEA assignment will finally get her there. She also tells you about her work for the DEA, about how she spends most of her days in the office, but also about how Javi took her along on a raid recently.
And you realize Javi was right. You do like her. She’s pleasant company, she’s educated but not in that stuck-up way most of Javi’s colleagues are. When you admit that you have no idea who the current Attorney General is, she doesn’t look at you like you just said you enjoy drowning kittens. She just brushes it off and changes the subject. When you tell her about a book you’ve been reading, she takes a small notepad from her bag and jots down the title and author, telling you she’ll check it out. And you truly believe she will.
When you’ve finished most of the food on your plate, she excuses herself to go to the bathroom. You check your watch, surprised that it’s already this late. Your gaze wanders over to where Javi is now talking to two young men who hang on his every word. But he’s glancing at you, a question on his face. You mouth, “What?” but he just shrugs. If he’s still worried you won’t like Katie, he has no reason to. You’re having a very pleasant evening.
When Katie gets back, Javi glances between the two of you, running his finger over his lips again. You just smile at him and, with ease, pick up the conversation with Katie once more. Maybe you should talk to someone else for a change, but Katie doesn’t seem to be bored by your company either, so you have no desire to change anything about your current situation.
Towards the end of the night, you too find yourself in the bathroom. You’re tired, but pleasantly sated, yawning while you wash your hands. You can’t wait to curl up next to Javi tonight and tell him about how much you loved talking to Katie. But you’re also not quite ready for this night to be over yet.
When you step out of the bathroom, Javi is there, waiting for you in the cramped space of the dimly lit hallway. You jump, caught off-guard, but when he shoots you an awkward glance, you can’t help but giggle.
“Hey, can I talk to you?” he asks. He’s curling the fingers of his right hand into a tight fist and releases them again, over and over. It’s another one of his nervous ticks, one he does when he’s trying to relieve tension.
“Sure, what’s up?” you reply, trying to sound casual.
Javi looks nervous, so maybe you’ve fucked up. Maybe you did something or said something, and one of his colleagues saw or heard and complained to Javi about you. You swallow hard, trying to keep the smile on your face.
“Are you having fun?” he asks next.
“Yes, of course.”
“And the food?”
“Am I enjoying the food?” you try to clarify. “Sure.”
“And Katie? You like her?”
This makes you laugh. “Yes, I like her. What’s this about, Javi?”
He doesn’t reply, just shoots you a look, pregnant with meaning.
“What?” you ask, and finally stop smiling. “Do you want me to say I don’t like her?”
“No, no,” he says, too quickly. “I’m just –”
You interrupt him. “I know you’re nervous about me liking her, but you don’t have to be. She’s really nice.” He still doesn’t look convinced. “I’m gonna ask her if she wants to meet up for coffee.”
“There’s something …,” he starts before clearing his throat. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Do you want to get coffee with me?” you tease him.
“It’s about Katie,” he answers.
“Sure.”
He takes a deep breath and then breaks eye contact with you, focusing his attention on the wall behind you. “I would like to ask her to join us …,” he says very slowly, making sure you catch every word, “… in bed … tonight.”
Still, you’re not sure you’ve understood him correctly. “What?”
“Just if you want to,” he clarifies.
That doesn’t really answer your question, or any of the other, and there are a lot, but you don’t know where to begin. “Katie?” you say, trying to encompass everything you’re feeling with this single question.
You look past Javi to where she’s sitting, watching the people around her with interest. And then something drops – you’re not sure you’d call it a penny because it feels smaller than that, but you suddenly remember having talked about inviting someone into your bed to see what it would be like. The conversation happened a few weeks ago, after Javi had fucked you for what felt like hours. You had lost count of the number of orgasms you’ve had, but still he didn’t seem to be satisfied. You hadn’t thought much of it then. All you remember is agreeing to give it a try; your fucked-out brain would have agreed to anything. But you had no idea Javi already had someone in mind, you had no idea he’d brought it up thinking of Katie. And suddenly the tone he had used to talk about her in his kitchen a week ago sounds a lot different to you.
Javi’s silent, staring at you with his big, brown eyes, patiently waiting for an answer, while you’re trying to wrap your head around this proposition.
And your mind is racing. You did say yes to the idea of it when he asked you about it, but he just sprung this on you, and it’s so much more than an idea now, it’s a plan, one he’s fully prepared to set in motion. He’s talking about tonight, he’s talking about leaving here and taking her home with you and doing this … tonight. You haven’t been given a chance to prepare for this, you don’t know how you feel about it, how you’re supposed to feel, so you decide to try something.
“Would you like that?” you ask him.
He nods.
“Why her?” you want to know.
“I think she’s nice, pretty, …,” he answers with a non-committal shrug.
“I thought you wanted her to be my friend,” you remind him.
“Of course, I want that,” he’s quick to assure you. “I want you two to get along.”
You reach up to grab his tie then. “Javier, are you sure about this?” you ask with emphasis.
His eyes open wide at this. “Yes.”
You feel a familiar tingling between your legs at hearing his breath hitch. Before you let this go too far, you look over at Katie again and try to imagine her in bed between the two of you, but you can’t. You have no idea how you would even start thinking about this, so you focus on something else, something you’re familiar with, something steady: Javi.
“All right,” you agree. “But there’s some rules I want us to follow.”
“Is that a yes?” he asks and it sounds so incredulous you almost smile.
“Yes, just –”
But he crowds you against the wall, pushes you back against the bricks before you can finish the sentence.
“What –,” you start.
Then he kisses you in a way that’s meant for the privacy of your bedroom, not a public restaurant. You kiss him back tentatively because you don’t want to encourage him too much. He comes even closer, and you feel something brush against your leg.
A smirk spreads across your face. “Why didn’t you say something?” you ask between kisses.
“I am saying something,” he points out.
“Yeah, but sooner.”
He shrugs again, then goes in for another kiss. You hold him back.
“Javi, stop,” you say in a firm voice. “Just listen to me for a minute, okay?”
He nods.
“You have to ask her,” you insist. “I’m not doing it, all right?”
He nods.
“And I don’t …,” you lower your voice, “want you inside of her. Is that clear?”
He nods.
“I’ll be in charge,” you go on. “I’ll decide what we’re doing.”
The “fine” he gives you as an answer is accompanied by a deep rumbling in his chest.
“And she’s not staying over. I don’t care how late it gets, she’s leaving afterwards.” You feel like you need to set these boundaries if you want this to work.
“Can I take her home?” he asks.
“Yes,” you answer.
He licks his lips. “Yeah, okay.”
***
You’re in the car. Javi is driving, you’re next to him, watching the lights of the city drift by. Your heartbeat is louder than the sound of the engine, you expect Katie to remark on it any second now, to ask if everything’s okay. But she doesn’t. She’s talking about a book she’s reading, one you’ve also read (and loved) but you can’t bring yourself to hold a conversation. Katie doesn’t pick up on the shift in atmosphere, and if she does, she doesn’t comment on it. But you feel like there’s a deadly snake resting between your feet, one that will bite if you make a single wrong move.
There is a difference between talking about inviting Katie home with you in a room full of people where it’s just a theoretical concept and actually doing it.
Javi agreed to be the one to ask her. But he’s kept quiet so far. All he did was offer Katie a ride home, which she accepted with a big smile on her face. You glance over at Javi as he’s driving, his face alternating between being aflame in golden lighting and hidden in complete darkness. You can see the tension in his facial expression by the way he furrows his brow, but when he glances over at you there is something in his gaze – reassurance, yes, but also an edge of something you can’t quite put your finger on. You tell yourself his eyes are only this dark because your environment is. And suddenly you don’t feel like you’re in danger anymore; suddenly you want to exploit this situation, exploit the power it gives you over him.
You turn around to look at Katie, who’s sitting in the seat behind Javi. She just ended a long explanation about a character’s motivation by saying, “… you know,” and you nod to signal you’ve been listening, even though you haven’t.
If Javi doesn’t want to bring it up, you have to. Because the more you think about it, the more you want to do this, and you don’t want to rely on a man who can’t make the first move.
“Katie, I was wondering …,” you start, and immediately Javi’s right hand leaves the wheel, and his fingers dig into your thigh. You inhale sharply at the sensation but continue, “… are you seeing anyone?” Javi loosens his hold on you but doesn’t let go completely.
Katie shakes her head, then bites her lip bottom lip. “You know,” she says then lowers her voice, “I actually had my eyes on …,” she nods at Javi, “but please don’t think –”
You interrupt her. “No, please, Katie, it’s fine.” You smile at the man next to you, who shakes his head ever so slightly. “I completely understand.”
“Yeah,” Katie sighs and shakes her head so her hair tumbles down over one shoulder. “There are actually a few broken hearts at the office.”
That makes you laugh, if only because Javi looks utterly miserable. “I think he’s secretly enjoying that,” you whisper in a conspiratorial tone of voice.
Javi makes a sound of warning, one that tells you to shut up.
“Javi, I’m kidding,” you say with a light laugh. It’s only half the truth. You know him. You know he enjoys the attention.
Katie, too, starts to apologize, but you interrupt her again.
“Please, you have nothing to apologize for, he can take it.” You wonder if you should press your luck, if you should rile him up a bit more, and you decide it’s the right thing to do. “Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the attention, Javi. Broken hearts … women pining for you …”
Javi makes another sound of warning. “It’s not like that,” he says through gritted teeth.
“What’s it like then?” you challenge.
Katie interrupts your stand-off before Javi can reply. “You guys, this is me, actually,” she says, pointing at the dark shape of an apartment building at the end of the block.
You turn around to face her again. “Katie, would you like to come up for a cup of coffee? Javi lives just down the street.”
“You sure?” Katie looks at Javi when she asks.
The knuckles on Javi’s hands are white from clutching the steering wheel.
“Of course,” you say, nodding eagerly.
“Yeah, all right,” Katie agrees.
You’re all quiet until you reach Javi’s apartment building. He gets out to open the garage door, then drives the car inside. You can’t help but notice that he still hasn’t asked, and you feel yourself getting nervous and antsy. If he doesn’t do it soon, you’ll definitely be the one to bring it up.
As soon as the car is parked, Katie gets out and shuts the door behind her with a dull bang.
Javi turns in his seat so he’s facing you. “What was that?” he asks.
“Ask her,” you tell him. “Now. Or I’m gonna do it.”
“What?” he snaps.
“I was trying to give you an opening,” you explain, as calmly as possible. Why does this have to be so complicated? “Like a scene partner, you know? Set up everything, so you can ask her.”
“Well, you weren’t doing a good job.”
“Gee, thanks,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
“I’m gonna do it,” Javi tells you, his voice much softer now, “just give me time.”
“How much longer do you need?” you want to know. “She almost had us drop her off at her flat.”
“I’m doing it,” Javi sighs, “just … go away.”
All the tension in you leaves your body in one big wave and you smile softly at him. “Javi, are you nervous?”
He shoots you a stern look.
You raise your hands defensively. “All right, I’m going.”
You both get out of the car, and while you walk towards the exit to the stairwell, your steps echoing through the underground parking lot, you hear Javi say, “Katie, do you have a minute?”
You stop once you reach the door, lingering in the shadows, your eyes on Javi and Katie. You watch them talk, but you cannot hear what they’re saying; they’re too far away and standing too closely together for the sound to carry all the way to you. All you can tell is that he’s explaining something to her, and when he grows quiet, he cocks his hip, arms akimbo. Then he nods at you.
You have to admit you’re more nervous than you want Javi to know. So much could go wrong. What if she starts shouting at you? What if she storms off? She’s still Javi’s colleague, he would still have to work with her. What were you thinking? Why did you agree to this? Why didn’t you ask a complete stranger? It would certainly have made things a lot less awkward.
Katie is also looking at you, just for a moment, but it’s enough time for her to take you in, from head to toe, and then she looks back at Javi. She says something, something you can’t hear, and he nods. Then she nods, too.
***
You’re on Javi’s couch, Katie is sitting next to you, another bottle of beer in her hand, while Javi has made himself comfortable in an old leather armchair. You’ve been sipping on a glass of water for the past 15 minutes while you’ve been listening to them talk about work. Neither of you has mentioned anything about the proposition, and you have no idea how to bring it up again. Yes, you want to be in charge, but you had hoped Javi would do more than just ask. You had hoped he would initiate something … anything.
But instead, they’re both relaxed and at ease, talking about some new regulations that have been introduced recently, while you try to find a way into the conversation, while you try to find something more elegant than, “Well, anyway, do you guys wanna take this to the bedroom?”
Luckily, there’s only so much time you can spend discussing regulations on car safety, and soon a tense silence settles over the room, settles between you, waiting to be cut, to be torn apart, and you know that this is your chance.
“So,” you start, and immediately both Javi and Katie turn their heads to look at you. You take a sip from your water before continuing. “Katie, there’s some things –”
She interrupts you immediately. “I know, Javi told me. I’m fine with it.”
You take a deep breath. “Yes, I just want us to go over it one more time, to make sure we’re all on the same page.”
God, why do you sound so awkward? This isn’t supposed to be a business negotiation and yet it feels like one. You don’t want to alienate Katie by insisting on those rules, but you need something to hold on to once you get started.
“I’m gonna be in charge,” you say quickly. “I hope Javi mentioned that.”
“He did,” Katie confirms with a nod.
“And I want you to leave once this is over.” It sounds mean, but it’s too late to phrase it nicer now.
“Yeah, sure,” Katie says, her expression neutral. “No problem.”
“I’m open to trying anything,” you go on. “But the minute someone feels uncomfortable with something, we stop. All right?” You look at both of them for confirmation. They both nod. “I need a verbal confirmation, please.”
“Yes,” Javi says, “we stop.”
“Of course,” Katie agrees.
“And there’s one more thing,” you say, trying to work up the courage to address it. You know it’s silly to be nervous about it, especially since you all just agreed to be open with one another, and since Javi already knows about it, but you still feel apprehension at the thought of bringing it up.
“Yeah, I know,” Katie says before you can continue. “No penetration.”
She says it so matter-of-factly, in the same tone of voice she used to talk about the new regulations that suddenly you feel like there won’t be any problems at all.
“I’m fine with fingers,” you say quickly, “just not …”
“Yes, and I’m completely fine with that,” Katie assures you.
You have no idea how she does it, how she can sit there and talk about this without flinching. Maybe you’re the problem; maybe you need to relax more. You enjoyed your evening talking to Katie, you enjoyed getting to know here, so there is nothing to indicate you’re not going to enjoy this. Katie is certainly set on enjoying herself, judging by the way her eyes roam over Javi, practically undressing him with her gaze.
And suddenly, you don’t feel shy at all. You feel brave and bold, and entirely not yourself as you lean closer to Katie and, before you can change your mind, capture her bottom lip between your lips. Katie makes a surprised sound, but then her hand is at the nape of your neck as she pulls you close. You can taste the beer lingering on her lips as you pry them open with your tongue, and you feel her gasp softly against your skin, and you just know that this won’t be a problem at all. You feel bolder with each passing second, not breaking the kiss when you rest your hand against her thigh, and she’s not breaking the kiss when you move it higher up to cup one of her breasts. All that catches your attention is a sharp intake of breath somewhere behind you. Katie hears it, too, and it makes her break the kiss.
“So, where’s the bedroom?” she asks, putting down her beer.
***
Javi’s bedroom is dark, except for the occasional flicker of light from a passing car that illuminates the walls and the bed for a few short moments. Neither of you switches on the light as you enter. It is a quiet procession, slightly awkward, as if you all don’t quite know how to approach this. You still feel apprehensive, but this feeling is slowly being replaced by giddy excitement, by adrenaline and arousal mixing together to form a dangerous, explosive cocktail you long to control but you also want to see ignited. You try to breathe in deeply, slowly, but your throat feels tight as your heart beats loudly against your ribcage.
You want this, you have to remind yourself, and it’s not the act itself you’re thinking about, but what you discussed just a few minutes ago. You wanted to be in charge, you tell yourself as both Javi and Katie look at you, their faces hidden behind thick shadows.
Katie looks as nervous as you feel. You’re all new to this, but she’s not as used to hiding her emotions behind a solid mask as Javi is. She glances at you, then back at him, waiting for you to say something. Or for him to do something. You were so brave and determined in the other room, as if you knew exactly what you were doing. You were another person. But now this feels solid and real, not something you just talk about with Javi to see the heat in his gaze. They actually expect you to do something, to guide them, and you’re not sure you can do it.
Javi, ever observant, ever determined to look out for you, senses your insecurity. Of course he does, how could he not? He is focused on you, it feels like you’re the only person here who matters to him, like this is about you and no one else. He takes a step forward until he’s a hand's width away from you, then pulls you close into a deep kiss, one that leaves you breathless within seconds. His tongue is everywhere, and his teeth nip and bite at your lip and neck until all you can do is cling to the collar of his shirt to help you ground yourself. He pushes you up against the nearest wall until you’re trapped between two solid entities. You’ve never felt safer and more sheltered. Your initial insecurity blows off as you lose yourself in the attention he’s paying you. His hands are eager to explore, roaming across your chest, pulling open your blouse with so much force you hear one of the buttons hitting the floor somewhere. You don’t mind; all you want is for him to keep going.
He does, forcing you to spread your legs so he can push one of his strong thighs between them, and you obey willingly, while you press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against the hot skin of his neck, against the bulging vein that protrudes when you let your fingers brush against his chest and stomach, trailing lower and lower, eager to reach their goal. Before they can, he pushes up his thigh and you grind down onto it, both of you moaning from the strain and the tension of it. You can feel your slick coating your underwear, you’re sure he can feel the heat through the fabric of both your trousers, and it only spurs him on – he takes a hold of your hips and urges you to keep moving. You do, your eyes fluttering shut, as your entire world is reduced to that sweet friction as you chase your pleasure, completely lost in the moment.
But then his mouth is right next to your ear and he whispers something, his voice raspy and raw, and your whole body trembles.
“Look at you,” he says, and you feel the words reverberating in his chest. “You want this, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you breathe out in a whispered pant. “God, yes.”
He pushes up his thigh again and you let out a moan that fills the entire room.
His lips are still right next to your ear, you can feel his breath tickle your sensitive skin. “Can I kiss her?” he asks. “Will you let me?”
You can’t tell if it’s that he’s so close to you, so overwhelmingly close and solid and present, or if it’s the pleading edge to his voice when he asks you, but something makes you vibrate with desire and all you can do is nod quickly, your head connecting to the wall with a dull thud. You don’t even feel it.
He pulls you in for another kiss, taking his time with you, and you taste him, inhale his scent, drink him down, before you pull back with a soft chuckle. “Go,” you whisper, “she might get bored.”
“Yes,” he agrees, and presses another soft kiss to your lips. “I want you to take off your clothes, all right?” His thumb brushes over your cheek when he quickly cups your face. “Get comfortable …,” he hesitates, “… and if you want us to stop …”
“No!” you interrupt him. “No, please.”
The smirk spreading across his face is too cocksure for your taste, and while he’s turning away from you, you’re already trying to come up with a plan to get back at him.
Your skin still burns, it feels like your whole body, every cell, is on fire, your lungs struggle to draw in air to keep you alive. You’re sure you look like a mess, your fingers tingle and your legs shake, and you just can’t explain it, why he suddenly has this effect on you. You’re attracted to him, more than you’ve ever been to another man before, and he makes you feel so good whenever he touches you and fucks you, but this is new.
Your eyes never leave his back as he steps over to where Katie is standing completely still, as he pulls her close by her wrist, cups her cheek, his fingers tangling in her long hair, and then his lips are on hers, and she melts against him. You listen to her soft moans and his rough pants as they explore each other, and suddenly your body burns up with longing again, longing to be touched and kissed, longing to pull out those same sounds from someone else. You watch as he undresses her with adept hands, as he roughly cups one of her breasts and she mewls, satisfaction flashing across his face, as he shoves one hand between her legs, then turns to you with a satisfied grin.
He doesn’t have to say it. You know.
You hurry to get out of your clothes while Javi does the same. Katie is leaning against the wall, her body trembling, and you know how she feels, you know about the burning between her legs, about the heartbeat pounding in her ears. You’re all too familiar with the effects of his touch, his kisses, his filthy words whispered against sweat-slicked skin. But she’s been hit by it without a chance to prepare herself. When another car drives past, you get a glimpse of her flushed skin and the glimmer in her unfocused eyes, and yours flutter shut for a second in response as your hands curl into fists.
If this is what Javi gets to see when he touches you it’s not surprising he does it so often.
He takes your hand and leads you to the bed, helps you settle down comfortably. Katie follows, her gaze fixed on Javi’s hard cock, eyes wide.
“No,” he says, as if he can read her mind. “She’s first.”
It’s against your deal, against the rules you set for this to work. He shouldn’t be in charge, you should be, you should tell them what comes next, how to approach this. But when one of his hands grips your thigh and pulls so your legs spread and you hear a hissed breath as he looks at the evidence of your arousal slick and glistening between your legs, you lose all will to take charge. Instead, you let your head fall back and wait, wait for him.
And then there’s something else, too; Katie, on your other side, much smaller, less imposing, but there, smelling sweet and clean where Javi’s scent is heavy and choking. She settles down comfortably next to you, her body pressed against yours, and before you can get used to the feeling of her own arousal against your leg, she softly moves your head, so you look at her, and then she’s kissing you hungrily. Suddenly, her sweet scent is all you breathe and taste, her soft lips against your own ignite something deep within you, something you already felt back in the living room but which you pushed down for the time being because it wasn’t the right place. Now it is, and you pull back and push one of your legs between hers, watching how her jaw tightens, how her eyes open wide, and then she starts rolling her hips, coating your skin with her slick. You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and force her to look down, to watch herself, and when she does, you’re suddenly filled with two of Javi’s fingers, stretching you open.
A hoarse moan escapes your throat as he pulls them out again but immediately replaces them with three. You’re used to it, used to his thick, strong fingers stretching you, but you’re so wound up and on edge that it almost feels overwhelming. There are tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but then you feel Katie’s lips against your neck, and it brings you back down.  
Somewhere above you, Javi huffs. “You’re so wet,” he says, his voice unbelievably deep and rough and it makes a shudder run through you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You want to come up with a witty retort, but you can’t, not when you hear what he says next. “Do you want to feel her, Katie?”
“Can I?” Katie whispers against your neck, but before the question has left her mouth in its entirety, you’re already replying.
“Yes, fuck,” you moan, trying to push up your hips to take Javi’s fingers in deeper.
He grips you with his free hand and pushes you back into the mattress. And then you feel the much softer touch of Katie’s fingers against your stomach, stroking you soothingly. She even whispers a soft, “Shh,” against the shell of your ear, and you squirm in reply, but then she finds your clit and softly circles it, once, twice, and you go limp at the same time as she bites down on your neck to muffle a breathless, “Fuck.”
You share that sentiment. Her fingers feel nothing like Javi’s. They’re softer both in touch and pressure but combined with his three still buried deep inside of you, still fucking into you with wet, obscene noises, you feel like you’ve found Heaven on Earth. You’re close, every muscle in your body tenses, and you close your eyes with a deep groan.
Suddenly, Javi’s hand closes around your jaw and he pulls. “Look at me,” he demands. “I want to see you.”
Reluctantly, you open your eyes, but then you see it. Javi is looking at you like he usually does, with amazement and want, but there is also a different edge to it, something between unrestrained lust and uninhibited pride, and something like adoration too, and he’s never looked at you like that before. It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come with a hoarse cry, tightening around his fingers, pushing him even deeper into you, and this time Katie has to hold you in place with a firm grip as he continues to fuck you with three wet fingers, fuck you through your orgasm, the muscles on his arm taut with the effort.  
Only when you hiss and try to move away does he stop. He leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple as you shudder and try to catch your breath. Katie’s hand moves up to stroke across your stomach in lazy circles, while she presses small kisses along the underside of your jaw. You swallow hard and close your eyes – you have never, never, felt like this after an orgasm; you feel so open and vulnerable with both of them doting on you like this, but you also feel safe and secure. The only thing that’s missing is a feeling of deep satisfaction, and you might have an idea how to achieve that.
“You all right?”
It takes you a moment to realize Javi has addressed you, but once this information registers with you, you nod slowly. “Just give me a second,” you answer, your voice raw. You clear your throat and the movement stings.
Did you scream? You probably did but you don’t remember.
Javi relaxes, sits up, and carefully pulls out his fingers. You hadn’t even realized they were still inside of you, and you hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He only smirks at you, a lopsided grin that ignites another spark of desire deep in your belly.
“Lie down,” you tell him, your voice still hoarse and dry.
He looks at you, a question on his face.
“Come on,” you urge him, pushing yourself up on your elbows so you’re closer to him. “Lie down on your back.”
He does as he’s told, lying down on your right side next to Katie who’s still cuddled up to you, still trying to kiss your neck, your shoulders, anywhere she can reach. But your eyes are on Javi, and on the unreadable expression on his face. There is definitely some curiosity there, some inquisitiveness, and you haven’t forgotten – you haven’t forgotten about wanting to get back at him.
With a finger under Katie’s chin, you tilt her head up to kiss her, a slow kiss that quickly turns into something more. She grips your arm and holds on as you take your time with her, exploring her mouth, exploring all the ways you can make her sigh and whimper. By the time you pull away, she’s a quivering mess and you can’t blame her, especially not once you realize why her moans have grown louder and more desperate during the last few minutes.
Javi’s hand is between her thighs, and you see him move two fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace. This sight – his thick fingers, the same ones that were buried so deep inside of you only minutes ago, now coated in her slick – makes you bite back a moan that’s trying to force its way out of your chest. You lock eyes with Javi as he pushes a third finger into her and she drops her head onto your shoulder with a strangled sigh; there’s a challenge in his gaze, one you’re ready to accept.
You run your fingers through Katie’s hair and watch Javi continue what he’s doing, listen to the obscenely wet sounds his movements make, and whisper soothing words to the woman by your side, whisper to her how good she is for you, how well she’s taking it, how pretty she looks on display for you like that. You know Javi can hear you, you see his cock twitch when you ask, “Would you like him to taste you?” and her breathlessly replying, “Yes.”
Javi moves to get up, but you quickly put a stop to this by shaking your head. “No,” you say, “we’re doing this my way.”
Yes, there’s definitely curiosity in his gaze, but you also don’t think his eyes have ever been this dark before.
You softly kiss Katie again, then say, “Hey,” in the quietest voice you can muster, giving the circumstances. “Look at me.”
Katie opens her eyes and gazes at you, her brow knit tightly, her eyes glazed over with lust. The sight makes you bite your lip, and her gaze immediately flickers down to where your teeth dig into the soft flesh.
“Are you all right?” you ask her.
She nods slowly.
“If there’s something you don’t feel comfortable with, just tell me.”
She swallows and nods again. You have a feeling she wants to say something but doesn’t trust her voice.
You nod too. “Get up,” you say, giving the softness in your voice an edge to show her this isn’t up for debate.
Javi slowly pulls his fingers out of her and you see her thighs quiver at the loss. You help her into a kneeling position.
“He’s gonna taste you now, all right?” you ask, making sure everyone is on board with what’s going to happen next. “I’m going to take care of him, so I don’t want you to worry about that. But you’re going to look at me the whole time.”
Her eyes widen as she realizes what you mean, and you hear Javi inhale sharply behind her. You let them find a position that is comfortable for them while you move to settle between Javi’s legs. His cock is an angry, red color and you cannot wait to feel the weight of it in your hand, to give him some of the relief he’s craving. He’s been so good for you – for the both of you –, he deserves to be taken care of. You let your eyes wander to the tip, to the drop of pre-cum that is inviting you to lean down and taste him, when you hear a deep groan vibrate through his entire body, so depraved and unrestrained it makes you look up.
Katie’s thighs are planted to the left and right of Javi’s head, his hands are digging into her soft flesh to spread them even further. Her head is thrown back in pure bliss as he licks up into her, holding her down so he can reach as much of her as possible. You’re completely mesmerized by the sight in front of you, by Javi’s face buried between another woman’s legs, by her arousal coating his chin, and it makes your own cunt clench with need. For a moment, just one brief moment, you consider abandoning your plan, taking him inside of you until you’re joined, connected, until nothing could pull you apart, and then fucking him until he spills inside you, moaning your name into Katie’s cunt.
But you don’t.
You take a deep breath, then wrap your hand around the base of Javi’s cock.
His moan of strained relief sends a jolt of pleasure through you.
You run your fingers up his length and swipe your thumb across the tip, collecting some of the pre-cum. As a response, he digs his nails deeper into Katie’s thighs and she cries out, a sound somewhere between pain and pleasure.
“He likes it rough, you know,” you say, circling the tip of his cock with your thumb lightly, casually, as if you were doodling a circle while talking to someone on the phone.
Katie’s eyes snap open and she looks at you, but you’re not sure she sees you. You don’t blame her. You’re well aware of what Javi can do with his tongue. You know what it feels like when he moans against your wet cunt, your swollen clit. In fact, you’re surprised Katie hasn’t come all over his face yet.
“Grab his neck,” you say, and cannot help but laugh lewdly when she immediately complies, her slender fingers closing around his strong, muscular throat. You watch as a vein at the base of his neck bulges, straining with effort, while he never once falters, while he continues to lick through Katie’s wet folds like she’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. “Go on then,” you say, your hand closing around the base of his cock again and squeezing, “don’t be shy – fuck his face.”
The way Katie follows your orders immediately, without hesitation, without the flicker of a doubt on her face, makes pleasure shoot through your veins. You swallow hard at the sight of her rolling her hips almost leisurely, her fingers still wrapped around his throat for purchase, while he drinks her down without complaint, a dark flush creeping up his chest and neck.
You’ve teased him enough.
You pump his cock once, twice, before settling yourself so you can wrap an arm around his leg, running your fingers through his coarse, dark hair, and then you finally allow yourself to taste him. You suck the tip of him into your mouth, letting his taste burst on your tongue, appreciating it like you would appreciate expensive wine. You take him in deeper, his heaviness familiar against your tongue, his taste sharp and strong, and he rewards you with a deep, dark growl, with low moans, with clipped sighs. One of his hands find its way to the nape of your neck to push you down further, and you let him. He’s been patient enough – he’s allowed to take for a while.
But there’s something else, too, another noise, one you usually don’t hear when you do this: the wet sound of his tongue against Katie’s center, her quiet gasps mixed with his strained huffs. You can feel yourself get impossibly wet at hearing them, at hearing this ambient noise all around you, and you let out a moan of your own before hollowing your cheeks to take even more of him in your mouth until his tip brushes against the back of your throat and you feel tears sting at the corner of your eyes.
Javi lets out a low growl and pushes his hips up. You hold him down, try to restrain him, but his muscles tense, his breathing gets ragged and then ….
You hear it, a quiet gasp, and look up. Katie’s eyes are on you, her face is flushed, she looks like she’s burning up, and it takes you a moment to realize what is happening until you notice she’s stilled completely, and her hands have left Javi’s neck and are braced against his broad chest, her nails digging into his flesh, leaving angry marks. She’s coming, she’s coming all over his face, while he continues to lick her with the most obscenely wet sounds you’ve ever heard. She doesn’t even have time to call out or shout his name because she’s so overwhelmed, taken completely by surprise, and you are, too. All you can do is sit up and watch her, brushing the loose strands of hair from her face, as she comes completely undone without a single sound.
You don’t give her much time to catch her breath, neither of you do. With a firm grip, Javi pushes her off him and you immediately set the next step of your plan in motion.
“Do you want to return the favor?” you ask her.
Her eyes grow wide, and it feels like she’s unable to speak, but she nods eagerly. You can see her heartbeat, a quick pulsing in her neck, tempting you, and you lean forward to kiss it.
“Go on then,” you whisper against her skin.
You swap places; she settles herself between Javi’s legs and you lie down next to him. He looks like a mess. His chest is rising and falling rapidly like he’s just finished running a marathon. There are marks all over the skin, and his cheeks are flushed. His eyes are glazed over, and his curls are damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead. You run your fingers through them, trying to smooth them back. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, drawing your eyes lower to his mustache that’s impossibly darker.
The urge to kiss him becomes unbearable.
When you do, he doesn’t taste like himself. There is another taste mixed in there, one that is foreign to you, and you bite down on his lip possessively when you taste it. He lets out a low growl and bucks his hips, drawing your attention downwards.
Katie looks up at the both of you, tears in her eyes. She’s doing her best, but you know how it is, you know that Javi’s size can be overwhelming at first. You decide to help her, to make this as enjoyable as possible for both of them.
“He likes a firm hold at the base,” you say.
Katie’s fingers close around his cock in a firm grip and Javi hisses, his breath fanning across your neck.
“Good girl,” you praise. You don’t know where this is coming from, but Katie’s eyes flutter shut and Javi’s chest rumbles with a desperate purr and you know you’ve said the right thing. “Use your tongue more,” you continue, “and try to get out of your head … he likes it sloppy.”
Katie’s tongue darts out to lick along the underside of Javi’s cock, from base to tip, before she takes him in her mouth again, doing her best to hold him steady. She doesn’t break eye contact with you and it’s only when you nod encouragingly that she lets him fall from her mouth with a wet plop, a trail of spit connecting her to his tip.
“Yeah, that’s better,” you tell her. “Keep that up and he won’t last long.”
You turn your attention back to Javi who looks at you with eyes impossibly dark. If there was a source of light in the room, you’re sure you’d be able to see your reflection in them. You grip a tuft of hair at the top of his head and hold him in place.
“Is this what you wanted?” you ask him, whispering the words into his ear, against his hot, flushed, sweat-slicked skin.
He nods, nothing more.
“I want to hear you say it,” you urge him on.
When he answers you with words, you hear why he was trying to communicate non-verbally. The “yes” he gives you is a hoarse, deep, desperate sound. You had no idea his voice could sound like this, could sound so wrecked, so taut, so pleading. You kiss him, and he kisses you back with such urgency, like a drowning man coming up for air.
You’re drunk, drunk on this power you have over him, drunk on being in charge of his pleasure while not even touching him, and you feel the desire to exploit this, to push him as far as he’ll let you without breaking him. You kiss him back, holding him in place with the fingers in his hair, while you listen to Katie moan around his cock. He moans, too, and his hips twitch, and you know he’s close, one fist tangled in the bedsheets, the other holding on to your arm.
“Katie, stop,” you say.
She does immediately, thinking there’s something wrong. Javi groans in frustration, his hips jerking upwards to chase that bit of friction from Katie’s hand still wrapped around him.
“Change of plans,” you tell them.
“No, please.”
You don’t recognize Javi’s voice. If you wouldn’t have seen his mouth move, you wouldn’t have known it was him who had just spoken.
“Please, querida.” He’s trying to convince you, he really is, knowing you usually can’t resist him when he calls you that, but you can, you have to this time.
“There’s something I want to try,” you tell him, letting your fingers run down his chest. “You said I could decide what we’re doing.”
“Yes, you can, but please …”
“If you do as I say …,” you say slowly, swallowing hard, “you can fuck me as hard as you want.”
He thinks this is hard for him, but it’s nothing compared to how hard this is for you. You’re sure you could come from hearing him say two more words in that voice of his. Luckily, he shuts his mouth and nods, determination on his face.
You sit up. “Katie, come here.” You beckon her close with a wave of your hand. “Lie down next to him.” Katie does as she’s told, glancing at Javi whose eyes are fixed on you. “Make sure his hands stay where you can see them. He’s not allowed to touch himself.”
“Yes,” Katie says, her voice hoarse.
You allow yourself to give her one kiss, just one, before you frame her chin with your thumb and index finger and turn her face so she’s looking at Javi. Where Javi’s skin is burning, Katie’s is cool to the touch when you let your hands run down her sides and over the taut plane of her stomach. She sucks in a quiet breath as you brush your fingers over her thighs, over the mound of hair between them, and then you touch her.
Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, at feeling her soft, warm, wet center. You run your fingers through her drenched folds, you listen to her gasps and whimpers, you hear Javi’s voice, too, but you can’t understand what he’s saying. And then, with a shallow breath, you push one finger into Katie. You feel her clench around you, you hear her whisper your name in surprise, but you’re too mesmerized by the sight of your digit vanishing between her folds to look at her.
You get it. You get it now. You know, you understand why Javi loves doing this to you.
When you add a second finger and pick up the pace, Katie moans loudly, but still not loud enough to drown out Javi’s aroused grunt. You finally lift your head to look at them both, at Javi, whose mouth hangs open, who has a look on his face like he’s trying to solve an unsolvable puzzle, and at Katie, who’s doing her best to keep her gaze on Javi, but whose eyelids flutter dangerously.
You shift positions and then your face is level with Katie’s weeping cunt. You pull out your fingers, grab her thighs in a tight grip, and give her one experimental lick, just a taste, just a sample. It’s so different from what Javi tastes like, it’s less heavy, less prominent. You try it again. And again.
Katie is a whimpering mess by now; one of her hands is resting against the top of your head; what the other one is doing, you don’t know. All you can focus on is the feeling of her against your tongue as you suck on her clit. That makes her scream, and you do it again, until her voice is hoarse.
Then you hear Javi. “You like that?” he asks, and you think he’s talking to you, but when you lift your eyes, you see he has Katie’s face in a tight grip, forcing her to look at you.
Katie nods.
“Tell her,” Javi demands, tightening his grip.
“Fuck,” Katie moans, and for you, this would have been enough, but not for Javi.
“You can do better than that,” he coos.
“It – you feel so good,” Katie tries. “God, I … more, please.”
“What do you need?” Javi asks. “Tell her.”
“Can I have … I just need … a finger,” Katie answers, her face and chest impossibly red, her expression open and vulnerable, her eyes glazed over. “I just want something to come on.”
You pull away for a second, a smirk on your face. “You can have two,” you say, before shoving two fingers inside her. You feel her tense around you, pulling you in deeper, and when you put your tongue back on her clit, she lets out the filthiest, most desperate moan you’ve heard her make all evening.
She didn’t moan like that when Javi was between her legs.
“Do you want to come?” you hear Javi ask her, and a strangled sound is the reply. “That good enough for you?” he asks you.
“No,” you say between licks.
“You heard her,” Javi goes on. “Try again.”
“Please …,” Katie whimpers. “I need to …”
You push your fingers impossibly deeper into her and she tightens around them with a hoarse scream, over and over, while you suck her clit into your mouth again with a filthy sound. She tries to pull away then, but you hold her in place with your free hand.
“No,” you say, your voice breathy. “Another one.”
Javi lets go of Katie’s face and shifts on the bed. Your eyes flicker to him, but he’s keeping his promise so far.
“Think you can do it?” he asks Katie.
“I don’t know,” she answers.
“You can,” you tell her. “Just keep an eye on him.”
You’re on thin ice, you know that. There’s only so far Javi will allow you to push him. But you feel drunk on the power you hold not only over him, but also over Katie. Her legs tremble when you drag your tongue through her wet folds again, her muscles twitch, and her hips push upwards. You hold her down, then repeat the movement with your tongue before pushing the tip of it into her. Katie’s head falls back with another loud moan, and this time you let her roll her hips against your mouth before pulling away.
The desperate whimper she makes cloaks your mind in a hazy, filthy mist of lust.
“Tell me, Katie,” you start, lazily pushing the tip of your finger into her, “who’s better? Me or him?”
You don’t look at her as you say it, you look at Javi. He holds your gaze, his expression unreadable, but there is something in his eyes, something that reminds you of a gathering storm.
“You,” Katie breathes out. “You, fuck!”
And then the storm breaks loose in Javi’s eyes. You see the lightning, hear the thunder, you feel the electricity prick at the back of your neck. You shouldn’t have asked Katie this question, you shouldn’t have provoked him like this, but here you are. There no taking it back now.
Even as you turn your attention back to Katie, even as you taste her cunt once more, you know he’s watching you. You feel his heated gaze, you feel something simmer just beneath the surface. As long has Katie moans and writhes beneath you, you’re safe. Javi won’t make his move. But as soon as Katie comes, you will have to pay.
And she does, eventually. She pushes her hips up, pressing your face against her with a firm grip at the back of your head, and you feel her come all over your tongue and chin with quiet shouts of pleasure.
Before you have time to collect yourself, before you have time to sit up or catch your breath, Javi is behind you. You don’t even see him move, you only realize he’s changed position when you feel the heat of his body against your back, when you feel his fingers on your sides, when you feel him slam into you. The sheer force of it pushes you up the bed until you’re right above Katie’s dazed face. You hold on for dear life, your fingers gripping the bedsheets, as Javi fucks you with so much force you can feel him everywhere. You don’t even have enough air left in your lungs to cry out, all you can hear is his skin against yours and his low grunts as he’s finally taking what you’ve denied him for so long. There is nothing you can do but let him.
You know you won’t last long, neither of you will. But when you feel Katie’s fingers against your clit, when you look into her eyes and see her bite her lip in concentration, it’s too much. The contrast between Javi fucking you at a punishing pace and Katie’s soft touch, almost like a caress, loosens something within you before your entire body tenses up. Something is happening to you that you cannot quite explain. You feel yourself grow unbelievably wet, so wet Javi slips out of you completely for a second but pulls you back onto him with a rough tug, and then you hear Katie moan out a low, “Shit”. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, feeling wrung out yet taut at the same time. It’s so overwhelming you feel like you’re about to explode, like you cannot keep going, but they don’t stop. Javi has an arm slung around your stomach as he holds you in place, Katie has your hip in a firm grip while she circles your clit with a movement that’s enough to keep you on edge but not push you over it. Javi has grown completely quiet, and you know exactly why; you know what his face looks like even though you can’t see him, you know he’s about to come from the way his muscles twitch against your back. But you don’t know if you can give him what he wants, if you can come on his cock buried deep inside you, his cock that sends jolt after jolt of rough pleasure through you. You’re too overwhelmed, you won’t be able to let go.
But then, your face still buried in Katie’s neck, you hear her say, “Come for us,” and that’s all it takes. You do, your muscles closing around Javi’s cock like a vise, while you bite down on the soft skin of Katie’s shoulder, trying to muffle the scream that tears itself from an undiscovered place within you, so well hidden, so deeply buried you had no idea it existed. And while you feel wave over wave of pleasure rush through you, you also feel Javi flood you in wave over wave of hot release, his body completely still, holding you in place until he’s done.
He pulls out of you with a wet sound, and you immediately sink down next to Katie, spent and exhausted and more tired than you’ve ever felt in your life. Katie kisses your cheek, your temple, your lips, anywhere she can reach, while Javi gets a wet cloth from the bathroom to clean you up. The second to last thing you remember is Javi joining you on the bed again, his strong arms wrapping around you, whispering soothing words.
The last thing you remember is taking Katie’s hand into yours and saying, “Stay.”
***
It’s early morning, the street outside Javi’s flat is still quiet, and you yawn as you lean against his arm, a cup of coffee in your hand.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast?” you ask Katie as you watch her put on her shoes.
“Thank you, but I have a lot of work to catch up on,” she rejects your offer again with a smile. “Another time maybe?”
“Do you want to grab coffee sometime?” you ask her.
“Sure!” she exclaims excitedly. “Anytime.”
“I’ll give you a call, okay?”
She nods, then pulls you away from Javi and into a tight hug. “It was lovely meeting you,” she says, her arms still slung around you. “I had a lot of fun.”
“Me too,” you say, before pulling away.
Katie turns her attention to Javi. “Thank you,” she says. For what exactly, she doesn’t reveal.
Javi, his hair still messy from sleep, wearing nothing but an old pair of boxers, looking exhausted and tired, still manages to smile at her. He leans down and presses a kiss against her cheek. She presses a kiss against his lips.
“See you,” she says, meaning both of you. 
taglist (mostly people who showed interest in this fic): @acdeaky | @ah-soka | @chasingdreamer | @codenamewife | @darksber | @deliriouslybewitching | @dindja | @doin-stuff | @filthybookworm | @for-my-satisfaction | @frannyzooey​ | @itssmashedavo​ | @kesskirata​ | @leannawithacapitala​ | @murbeft | @omgreally​ | @pedropascaldice​ | @phoenixhalliwell​ | @phrog-seeds | @pilothusband​ | @queenofthefaceless-main | @reluctantlyresponsibleadult​ | @skyshipper​ | @softpedropascal​ | @speakerforthedead0​ | @starrdvstkenobi​ | @sunnydunnydays​ | @tacticalsparkles​ | @theorganasolo​ | @walt-breslin​ (if your url is crossed through it means I couldn’t tag you for some reason, I’m sorry!)
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yzkhr · 3 years
Text
Love Language miniseries for Shinran!
I dedicate this corny and cringe worthy miniseries to @meitanteisachi for giving me inspiration through her gifset and her wonderful fanfictions.
-
Acts of Service- a language that can best be described as doing something for your partner that you know they would like, such as filling up their gas, watering their plants, or cooking them a meal.
"Not sick, huh?"
Shinichi glared as Ran leaned back from the table, unamused. He was working on a difficult case in their—now only his— mansion, when she showed up unannounced after he forgot to attend school. He was wearing his school uniform but lost sense of time being too absorbed at the new case Inspector Megure gave him.
"I told you I'm fine." he avoided her scrutinizing gaze, being stubborn. Ran wouldn't have any of it however, bringing her left hand to her waist like a stressed mother.
"Fine? You're burning hot and your face is even redder than a traffic light!" she argued and his face produced an even darker shade, acknowledged.
He wanted to protest and retaliate how can it not be when she literally put her face in front of his without any sort of warning, brushing his unruly bangs upwards with her soft hand and letting their foreheads touch as he froze while she remained unbothered.
The detective restrained himself however, not wanting any further embarrassment to occur.
He heard a sigh from Ran, forcing him to turn around. She was now arranging the stack of messy papers and documents, bringing them to side.
"Oi, what are you doing?" he frowned as he stood up from the swivel chair and held Ran's hand to stop her. It didn't go unnoticed how Shinichi flinched at the coldness of her skin.
Ran eyed their physical contact before giving him a stern gaze.
"I'm fixing all of these so you can rest. You won't be touching files until your fever's gone." she effortlessly shook his hand away, continuing.
"Ran, I told you I'm fine. I have to end this case cause if I don't---"
"Then you can let Megure-keibu and the other officers to handle it until you're well again." she was consistent at putting all the paperwork aside, not even sparing a glance.
"I told you I'm fine didn't I? It's just a fever."
Finally done with her task, Ran faced him with an expression that resembled his mother way too much for his own comfort.
"You're not fine. You have a horrible fever and along with it is a terrible headache. You didn't actually expect to read all of these with those blurry eyes of yours, did you?"
She squinted, gesturing at more than fifty papers on the side. He opened his mouth to deny her claims but retreated seeing her eyes squint even more, as if challenging him to lie. Ran was right. He'd been trying to ignore the throbbing of his head and the haze in his vision while reading through the entire case.
He sighed as his misty eyes finally having the time to observe her. She was still wearing their uniform, which means she went here as soon as classes were over. He suddenly remembered an important thing.
"Wait, don't you have an upcoming Karate competition? You have training everyday after school right?" he smirked internally, finding out a plot hole.
But instead of seeing a look of panic and rushing out the of the doorway like Shinichi expected her to do, Ran simply grabbed his hand towards the door making his cheeks turn red out of surprise and something he would never dare name of.
"I'll just skip it for today. Besides, I have something more important to take care of." she squeezed his warm hand, hinting what—or who— important thing she meant.
Blushing even more at the implication certainly did not make his illness any better.
-
After a few stumble here and there, they finally got to the bedroom in one piece. Minutes seemed like an eternity, with his headache feeling like he was being hammered. He was freezing and sweating at the same time not knowing if he should undress or add more layers. It was good thing that Ran immediately slumped Shinichi down the bed, and started removing his blazer.
Wait, what?
"Umm..." he spoke weakly, but still complying and accepting her help. He thought that she was done but she suddenly kneeled in front of him and leaned in, making Shinichi hyper aware of everything around him. Her hands went straight to his uniform which he did not predict. She was now untying his neck tie, making their faces inches apart. She was so close that he could feel her breathing at the open part of his longsleeve. Despite his mind telling him not to, Shinichi's eyes went directly to her face, which seemed too focused at her task, with her slightly furrowed eyebrows and violet orbs concentrated at undoing the knots. He would never admit it, but Ran looked too innocent and pure that it was killing him.
It didn't help that her scent was literally intoxicating him. A combination of honey and lemon, Shinichi noticed. Flustered and a bit shameful, he looked up,having butterflies in his stomach with his childhood friends' soft and nimble hands slowly removing the fabric from his neck.
He jolted awake when she begins unbuttoning his polo however. On instinct, Shinichi took a hold of her hands before they can go further. Shocked and confused, Ran looked up.
"I," he breathed heavily. "I think I can do this myself, Ran."
As if broken by a spell. Her face instantaneously turned crimson red at the realization that Shinichi might have thought she was the one with the fever. She stood up straight away, turning around and making a beeline to the door. She had been uptight all day that he was a bit glad the usual Ran came back.
He wanted to laugh at her reaction but was too tired to do so. Even slightly moving drained him, but it didn't mean he wasn't capable of undressing himself.
"I-I'm sorry! I got lost in my thoughts! I'm going downstairs!" she squeaked and left in an instant, closing the door with a loud thud.
Now alone, Shinichi struggled to move his shaking hands to undo the buttons. After a few more attempts, he was finally able to fully strip and drag himself to the closet. Nauseated and feeling like the world weighed on his shoulders, he randomly put on a white pajama and went straight to his bed, curling a bit like a kitten. His eyelids getting heavier and heavier, Shinichi closed his eyes, immediately falling asleep.
-
"Shinichi? Shinichi?"
Hearing a faint voice from behind, Shinichi turned around languidly and opened his eyes, meeting a concerned Ran.
"Hmm?" he hummed, still sleep deprived.
She brought up a steaming hot bowl of food, smiling.
"I cooked you chicken soup. Sit up, you have to eat." she ordered gently.
Despite feeling pain all over his body, he obeyed, knowing that he needed energy. Sitting up groggily, Shinichi faced his caretaker.
Ran sat beside the empty space of his bed, chicken soup in her hand. He frowned at the sight of the food.
"You still cooked my favorite style? Even though you know I won't be able to taste it anyway?" she shrugged as a response, bringing a spoonful near her and blowing weakly.
"Well, you might not be able to taste it but your stomach will surely enjoy it, so why not?" something in his chest swelled after hearing such words. Still, he kept it to himself.
After a few more blows, Ran brought the spoon near his mouth, gesturing for him to eat it. Face flushing and coughing slightly, Shinichi took a bite at the soup. Albeit tasteless, he couldn't help but smile mildy, knowing the effort put in.
Ran laughed a little looking at him as well, but said nothing and continued feeding him.
After five minutes or so, the bowl was finally empty. She told him that he could have just ate half but Shinichi argued that he was hungry(he really wasn't but he would never stand having a food Ran cooked for him go to waste but he'll die before she even find that out).
He was now inclining back to the comfort of his own bed when Ran spoke.
"Seriously, don't overwork yourself Shinichi." she berated, masking her worry with exaggeration as she arranged the plate and the soup, slowly making her way outside.
"I wasn't, I just got a little busy that's all." her saw how Ran rolled her eyes at his excuse as she replied.
"A little busy? You rarely get sick. I was so close to believing you were invincible to fevers." he scoffed at her remark, being defeated with yet another fact. Maybe the pain he felt was a lot worse than he expected.
"Look, I'm glad that you're trying to save as many people as you can but you also can't forget about yourself." he winced at the obvious disappointment and seriousness of her scolding. Instead of meeting her gaze that bore holes into him, he averted his stare into the lamp.
"I'm fine."
"No you're not. And besides, if you don't take care of you, think of all the people that will need you but won't have you." he stayed quiet, getting her point. Shinichi knew it was irrational being stubborn and pushing himself to the limits but he just couldn't help it. He may be a cocky bastard as a lot of people call him, but he wasn't someone that can stand not being able to help when he clearly can.
He sighed, giving in.
"Fine. I promise I'll take better care of myself." his answer seemed to satisfy Ran as she smiled contently.
"Good." as he heard the creaking of the doorframe, Shinichi instinctively flipped his head towards the sound.
"You're leaving?"
He didn't know why, but an infallible amount of upset coursed through him at the thought of Ran leaving. She paused by the door and looked back, inclining her head to the side.
"You want me to stay?" she teased in a light-hearted manner, making Shinichi's cheeks flushed.
"N-no, just wondering.." he played it cool by keeping his voice even, now being reminded how pathetic he must have sounded like asking her if she was leaving.
"I'll stay. After all, someone has to make sure a certain mystery otaku doesn't go back to the library just because he's feeling a little better."
He glared at her jesting and turned to the other side, lying down.
"Barou, it's not like I can do that with my entire body in pain."
Ran laughed, knowing she annoyed him enough.
"Then that's more reason for me to stay right?"
Before he can even think of a reply, she already closed the door and all Shinichi could hear were the sound of her shoes walking downstairs and the erratical beating of his heart he hoped was a side effect of the fever and not..... entirely something else.
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vxlkyrie · 4 years
Text
through my lens
Tumblr media
pairing: spencer reid x reader
genre: fluff (god so much fluff), friends to lovers!au
warning: mentions of alcohol, cursing
word count: 4.8k
summary: spencer comes up with the best birthday gift a girl could ask for – along with the best confession
a/n: hey y’all, it’s been a hot minute. i apologize for going m.i.a. for a bit and only reblogging fics and gifsets. i’ve been trying to give myself a little break from writing after finishing my classes for the semester, and then i found myself having writer’s block. but now i’ve found the motivation to write again! i’ve gotten into criminal minds during this quarantine, and became whipped for reid. so why not start writing for him? hopefully i can write more for him. and with that said, i hope you guys enjoy this fluff-filled oneshot!
everyone in the bau had their hobbies. spencer loves to read, penelope knits, hotch golfs on weekends – just to name a few. 
when you weren’t creating profiles and catching unsubs, you were roaming around d.c. taking photos of literally everything. a rose bush, your lunch at the cafe down the street from your apartment, the beautiful cotton candy sunset. you were seen always taking a picture, whether it was with a dslr, a polaroid, or simply your phone. you also took pictures of the bau team whenever you all decide to hang out. 
a night at the club? pictures of emily, jj, and penelope drunk off their asses while grinding on each other. 
dinner after successfully closing a case? pictures of derek and spencer having a mini food fight and hotch trying to stop them. 
christmas sleepover at rossi’s mansion? pictures of rossi cooking and the ladies making cookies. 
jj’s wedding? pictures of the blushing bride and groom and everyone slow dancing with each other (until derek pulled your camera out of your hand and forced you to dance with everyone). 
let’s just say you have a wall filled with polaroids of your second family.
photography has been a passion of yours for the longest time. although, when you first started in the bau, you felt like a burden you stated taking pictures of the team in their happiest moments. but over the years, everyone assured you that it was fine and even encouraged you to continue, which made your heart flutter. 
but what made your heart flutter even more is when a certain doctor asks you for tips on how to get into photography.
“hey y/n!” a male voice greeted you while you were working on paperwork. you snapped your head up to see spencer giving you a small smile as he leaned on your desk.
you became close with the doctor shortly after you joined the unit. probably because you two were around the same age, but also probably because of the similar interests you two had. 
he would come over to your apartment frequently for movie nights and whenever he just wanted to unwind after a case and didn’t feel like going back to his place. 
the first time he slept over, you had to apologize for the lack of literature books on your shelves that were filled with scrapbooks instead. he told you it was no problem and found himself getting lost in one of your scrapbooks.
“no way! is that y/n in high school?” he practically squealed.
“what?!” your eyes widened as you ran towards spencer and attempted to get the embarrassing scrapbook out of his hand, only for him to lift it high into the air and out of your reach.
“why didn’t you tell me you wore glasses? you looked so cute!” he laughed as he looked up at the scrapbook that he held above his head.
“i looked horrible! give it back!” you whined.
“only if you can reach it.” he smirked.
“fuck you. you just had to be 6′1.” you pouted as the doctor continued to go through the rest of your scrapbooks (he especially enjoyed going through the scrapbook that was filled with pictures of the team).
and even though you complained the entire time he went through your collection, you couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach as your feelings for spencer grew.
“what’s up, doc?” you beamed back.
“nothing much. i just wanted to ask you something.” he said as he fumbled with his hands.
“yeah, what is it?” you asked politely.
“i-i want to learn more about photography, and i was hoping you could help me?” he answered softly as a tint of pink spread across his cheeks
god help me, he’s so cute.
“yeah of course!” you chuckled. spencer’s eyes lit up with joy as he smiled wider. “what do you need help with?”
“well, the basics, and what kind of camera to use. although, i’ve heard digital cameras have been getting more expensive these days. maybe it’s because more people are getting into photography. i’ve seen a lot of websites that garcia showed me where people are starting photography businesses and i- i’m rambling again, aren’t i?” spencer scratched the back of his neck. 
you weren’t one to cut spencer off while he’s talking. mostly because he looked so attractive while doing it, and it still baffles you how that’s possible.
“it’s fine spence,” you softly smile at him, which caused his heart to speed up a little. “and honestly, using your phone is a great start into learning basic photography.”
“really?” he quirked an eyebrow.
“yeah, give me your phone,” you asked, holding out your hand. he pulled it out and handed it to you. “i know you’re like a technophobe, but this little guy is pretty useful, especially when it comes to photography.” you explained as you opened the camera app, showing him the different features on it. “now here’s a grid. ever heard of rule of thirds?”
spencer shooked his head, which surprised you.
“oh really? well basically...” you started to speak.
spencer started zoning out. he already knew what the rule was, but he just wanted an excuse to stare at you.
the resident genius has been in love with you ever since you joined the unit. and his feelings grew even more after finding out you both have a love for halloween and science fiction. but of course, he never acted on it. the poor boy was already shy enough, and after being rejected several times, he especially doesn’t want to ruin his friendship with you.
oh y/n, if only you knew...
“so overall, it’s a great way to line up your photos,” you finished explaining, turning your head to see spencer spacing out. “you okay spencer?” you waved a hand over his face.
“w-what? oh yeah, i’m fine. rule of thirds is my best friend when taking pictures. got it.” he blinked, making you chuckle.
“hey pretty boy, we’re being summoned by garcia.” a deep voice said as a hand slapped over spencer’s shoulder.
“hi derek!” you smiled.
“hey sugar,” he winked. “come on reid, let’s go.” derek turned to spencer. spencer nodded at the older man and started to walk.
“thanks again y/n!” he yelled over his shoulder.
“of course! if you need anything, just let me know!” you yelled back as you continued working on your paperwork.
“anything?” derek whispered, teasing spencer as they made their way to penelope’s office.
“stop. she was just teaching me some stuff about photography.”
“you are such a sucker for her. just tell her you like her already. we all know you both are in love with each other.” derek rolled his eyes.
“she’s not in love with me.”
“you have an iq of 187 and for what? you don’t have to be a genius to know that she feels the same way.” derek said as he opened the door.
-
“ah my lovelies are here!” penelope said as she hugged derek and spencer.
“what’s up baby girl?” the formal asked.
“i’ve already told emily, jj, hotch, and rossi this, but i am planning a surprise birthday party for y/n at rossi’s place!” she clapped joyfully.
“isn’t her birthday like a month away?” spencer raised an eyebrow.
“i don’t even think she remembers that her birthday’s coming up soon.” derek added.
“which makes this even easier,” penelope smiled. “the week of her birthday, we will be going over to rossi’s house after work and we will help decorate. the night of the party, spencer, you will be driving her to rossi’s. just say that we’re all meeting up to go to a club or something.” she quickly said.
“i guess that’s possible.” the younger boy slowly nodded.
“are you sure she isn’t gonna be suspicious that reid’s willing to go to a club?” derek asked.
“hey!”
“he’s a genius, he’ll come up with some excuse,” penelope said. “okay great. let’s go team! now get out please.”
spencer slowly walked down the hall that lead back to the bullpen.
what am i gonna get her this year? i already got her the whole star wars saga collection. this gift has to be more sentimental. 
he bit his lip in deep thought.
then suddenly, a light bulb flickered on above his head.
that’s it!
-
a month passes by quickly when you're working on cases mostly every day. 
there were a few times where you would have the day off or at least the night off after a long day at work. you spent those times with the bau, whether it was having a night in with the girls, checking out the costume stores with spencer (who cares if it’s nowhere near october?), or even a spontaneous night out at the karaoke bar.
the rest of the team have managed to sneak around during the week of your birthday, gathering party decorations and gifts, making sure everything is set up correctly before the big day.
spencer worked very hard on his gift for you, adding the finishing touches as he stored it in a closet that was filled with the rest of the team’s gifts.
set up for y/n’s birthday party – check.
and in a blink of an eye, it was your birthday and the night of party. the team was flying back from a case that took several days, and you want nothing more than to knock out on your bed.
“the night is still young! let’s all go out!” emily exclaimed as you all gathered your belongings in the bullpen. derek nodded his head in agreement, catching on to emily’s little scheme.
“hell yeah, i’m in!” jj responded. “how about you, y/n?”
“i don’t know guys, i’m pretty tired.” you yawned.
“come on y/n, you have to come with us.” emily pouted.
“what’s happening?” penelope walked in.
“we’re gonna hit the clubs, you in?”
“definitely. spence, you coming?” penelope looked at him as if she had telepathically sent him a message. spencer widened his eyes.
“u-uh, yeah. i’m in.” he gave a small smile.
“look y/n, even reid’s coming! you love clubbing with us. it’s gonna be a great time!” jj said as she held your arms. you sighed.
“fine. i’ll meet you guys in like two hours, okay?”
the ladies cheered in victory.
“perfect! let’s pregame at rossi’s and then we’ll all go together.” emily said.
“great! spencer, do you mind driving me to my apartment?” you said as you turned towards him. he shook his head in response and you both headed towards the parking lot.
get y/n to come over to rossi’s – check.
-
after you got ready, spencer drove to rossi’s mansion as you sang to throwbacks.
he changed into a simple black dress shirt and jeans (and of course, his converse) while you wore a black off-the-shoulder mini dress and heels. your makeup was flawless as well as your curled hair.
spencer couldn’t help but think you looked beautiful in this moment, and can’t wait for the surprise he and the team had in store for you.
soon, you two were parked in rossi’s huge driveway.
“she’s here!” spencer texted penelope as soon as he put the car in park. he ran over to your side of the car and opened the door for you.
“what a gentleman! thank you, kind sir.” you smiled and reach out for spencer’s hand as he helped you out of your seat. you two walked to the front door to see rossi standing with a huge grin on his face.
“hey rossi!” you greeted while hugging him. he grabbed your hand and opened the door and slowly let you in, with spencer trailing not too far behind. “where is everyone?” you asked as he led you to the dark living room.
“surprise!” many voices shouted. your eyes widened as the lights turned on, only to see your closest friends and everyone from the bau and their families smiling at you. even the kids were there.
there were balloons that floated onto the ceiling. foil curtains that filled up rossi’s wall (he wasn’t a big fan of it, but he was willing to hang it up because it was all for you). tables filled with drinks, food, and gifts. and don’t forget the banner that hung across the threshold leading to the backyard that read ‘happy birthday y/n!’
you felt yourself tearing up.
“oh my god!” you patted around your eye area. “i love you all, but goddamnit you almost made me ruin my mascara!” you yelled jokingly, earning laughs from everyone (even hotch).
“happy birthday!” rossi said as he hugged you and kissed your cheeks. everyone gathered around you to hug you, take pictures with you, and say their happy birthday’s.
“happy birthday, sugar.” derek hugged you.
“i honestly forgot that it was today.” you laughed as he joined you.
even spencer gave you a bear hug and a kiss on the forehead, which made your face heat up.
“happy birthday y/n.” he smiled at you.
you were in euphoria as the party went on. you were dancing with your best friends and the bau ladies (and derek) as music blasted throughout the backyard. everyone was occupied, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves, even spencer, who was having a beer while conversing with hotch.
“so when are you gonna tell y/n you like her?” he asked spencer who was looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world. spencer turned his head towards his boss.
“soon.” he smiled, sounding very determined.
“as much as i love seeing you guys dance your asses off, it’s time for the birthday girl to blow out her candles.” rossi announced.
everyone gathered around the table as you walked towards the table, seeing a beautifully decorated cake with lit candles placed in front of you. they all sang happy birthday (with hotch recording everything), making you smile from ear to ear while trying not to tear up again. soon, you blew out your candles, followed by cheers. rossi helped cut the cake and distributed it to everyone.
“as soon as everyone gets their slice, please go to the living room so y/n can open her gifts!” he shouted. everyone obeyed and started to walked back inside. spencer’s eyes widened.
shit. 
“you okay, kid?” derek asked, approaching spencer.
“uh, yeah?” he answered, clearing his throat as an attempt to try to hide his panicked expression.
“what’s got you nervous?”
“i-i didn’t know she was gonna open her gifts in front of everyone.” spencer practically whispered.
“why? what’d you get her?” derek smirked.
“i guess you’ll see.” spencer sighed.
-
everyone sat in the living room, facing you as you opened your gifts. every time you opened one, your heart melts even more.
when you opened rossi’s gift, you thought you were gonna pass out.
“rossi, i cannot take this!” you exclaimed as you held a box that contained a new camera. “this must’ve costed you a fortune!” you tried to give rossi the box, but he simply shook his head.
“you’re like a daughter to me, y/n. of course i had to spoil my child!” he said as everyone laughed around him.
“i can assure you buying that camera certainly did not put a dent in his bank account.” emily quipped. you thanked rossi with a hug and continued to open more gifts in your seat between spencer and emily.
you were curious when you lifted a slightly heavy bag from hotch. you gasped as soon as you looked inside to see a brand new laptop sitting inside.
“hotch, you shouldn’t have!”
“i know you recently broke your laptop, so i figured why not save you the trouble of getting one. you also deserve it after being such a great addition to the team.” he said, giving you a small smile as you hugged him.
emily bought you a ton of polaroid film and sd cards, as well as a bottle of wine – the key to a girl’s heart.
“these are exactly what i needed, thank you babe.” you kissed her cheek.
jj and will bought you a vinyl player along with a few vinyls from your favorite artists. they also added a few drawings of you that henry made that had ‘auntie y/n’ written on all of them.
“i am definitely putting these on my fridge.” you said as you lightly ruffled the little guy’s hair.
derek got you a pair of headphones (from the same brand as his) so you didn’t have to borrow his during the plane ride home.
“now we can both listen to our own music with our own headphones.” he teased, hugging you as you chuckled.
penelope’s gift had you screaming. you opened the box and moved the tissue paper to see a whole lingerie set laid out. spencer’s eyes widened as derek whistled, while hotch and rossi where trying not to laugh their asses off. jj immediately placed her hands over henry’s eyes.
“how did you get my size right?!”
“i have my ways.” she winked at you.
you had one more gift to open – spencer’s gift.
“you don’t have to open mine.” spencer whispered to you. you raised an eyebrow in confusion.
“why not? i opened everyone’s.”
“it’s not as good as everyone else’s.”
“spence, it doesn’t matter how expensive a gift is. you could literally give me a fake plant and i will love it until the day that i die.” you smiled at him, causing his face to slightly heat up.
“well, prepare to be disappointed because i definitely did not get you a fake plant.” he said. you scoffed.
“come on spence, how bad could it be?” you said as you pulled out an object from the gift bag. you curiously looked at it.
is it a book?
“what is it?” you asked spencer.
“well, o-open it.” spencer shyly said.
you turn the cover to see a collage of pictures. it was a small scrapbook. you examined the pictures only to realize they were picture of you. you started blushing as you flipped through the pages and recalled where several of the pictures have been taken. you didn’t even realize spencer was taking pictures of you half of the time.
-
you were having a sleepover with the girls, drinking and crying over captain america. you heard a knock on the door.
“must be the pizza guy, i’ll get it!” you stood up. you opened the door to see spencer standing there.
“hey y/n! ready to watch the new season of doctor who?” he clenched his messenger bag in excitement as he entered your apartment, shocked to see his coworkers sitting on the couch while the tv played.
“that was tonight? oh spencer, i’m so sorry. i completely forgot.” you said, feeling guilty.
“oh, that’s fine. we can always watch doctor who another time.” he reassured.
“how about you join us spencer?” penelope chirped in.
“i don’t want to intrude on your sleepover.” spencer shook his hands in front of him.
“yeah, come join us! you’re already here, and i think you left some of your pajamas somewhere.” you raised your eyebrows at him with a pleading smile on your face.
how could he resist when you’re looking at him like that?
“fine.” he gave in as the girls cheered.
as soon as he knew it, he was listening in on the gossip as the girls did each other’s nails. you laughed as you smeared a green substance on your face.
“what’s that on your face y/n?” spencer asked, earning a few giggles from emily and jj.
“it’s a facial, spence. it’s good for your skin. you want to try it?” you asked as you held out the container towards him. he nodded. “you want me to put it on for you?” he nodded again.
spencer tried his hardest not to blush while your fingers brushed against his face. he could smell the faint scent of mint from the facial along with the lavender from your shampoo.
“okay, and we’re done. wait for half an hour and then wash it off.” you said as you both took a seat on your couch.
once you started paying attention to the movie, spencer stole glances in your direction, watching you react to the movie. he couldn’t help but pull out his phone and snapped a picture of you (thank god his phone was on silent).
he smiled to himself one more time before putting his focus back onto the movie.
-
“spencer, what are we doing here? it’s july!” you said as you two entered the costume shop.
“it’s never too early to plan your halloween costume, y/n.” he laughed as you looked at the masks that hung from the wall. he busied himself, browsing through different costumes.
should i be frankenstein? maybe i should go for steampunk this year?
“check this out spence!” your muffled voice caught his attention. he looked to see you dancing around while wearing one of the masks. 
spencer laughed at you while you continued to dance in the middle of the aisle. he took out his phone and took a photo of you, not caring that your arms turned out blurry while you were flailing your arms around.
“that was fun,” you took off the masks. “anyways, what kind of costume are you going for this year?” you asked as your ran your fingers through your hair, trying to fix it.
spencer was too busy looking at you.
“spencer?” you said with confusion. “spence?”
he slightly shook his head.
fuck, she caught me staring.
“what? oh, i don’t know yet. how about you?” he asked back.
“hmmm, i’m not sure either. i might just play it safe and be a devil or something.” you said as you tried on headbands that had plastic horns glued onto them. you looked at the section next to the devil costumes and saw a bunch of angel costumes. you took one of the halos and placed it on spencer’s head, practically jumping to get it on him. “maybe you should be an angel this year.”
“you think so? why?” he asked, suddenly feeling shy.
“well, maybe cuz you are one?” you grinned.
spencer’s heart raced for hours afterwards.
-
“happy birthday to you! happy birthday to you! happy birthday dear emily! happy birthday to you!” the whole team sang as they raised their glasses to the girl of the hour. you couldn’t help but take pictures of everyone as they downed their drinks and hugged emily.
after the team found out it was the brunette’s birthday, you all collectively decided to spend the rest of the evening renting out a room at the karaoke bar to celebrate.
“thank you guys! i fucking love all of you!” emily yelled. you could tell she was tipsy. “now someone put something on, i want to get drunk and sing until my vocal chords explode!”
“well, actually, your vocal chords-” spencer started.
“shh, not right now spence. someone give me a microphone.” emily bit back. you patted your hand on spencer’s back.
after a few rounds of singing from everyone, you decided to do a number with the rest of the girls. you were in the zone, belting out notes you never thought you could do. but with a little bit of liquid courage, you channeled your inner whitney houston as you all sang ‘i wanna dance with somebody.’
hotch was recording (as always) as rossi and derek cheered you all on.
“let’s go baby girl!”
spencer was clapping along, watching you have the time of your life. he had the biggest smile on his face as he took pictures of you singing. he knew that he had it bad for you once you started dancing. but when he didn’t see coming was when you placed your hand on his and pulled him up to his feet.
“dance with me spencer!” you giggled as you whipped your head side to side. you definitely had too much to drink.
“come on pretty boy!” derek hollered. spencer started to pick up the rhythm and moved with you and the girls. the rest of the guys soon joined in and started dancing.
at times like this, spencer is grateful that he chose not to stay in.
-
as you flipped through the rest of the pages, you felt a few tears started to form in your eyes. you skimmed through the rest of the pictures. 
some of them were pictures of you sleeping. on the jet, on the couch in your pajamas during a movie marathon, on rossi’s bed in one of the guest rooms after having one too many glasses of wine.
some of them had spencer in it. once you taught him what selfies were, he took one with you every time the team flew out of state, or even if you two were just getting coffee before work.
there were some where you weren’t even paying attention and spencer was closer to the camera and made it look like he was squeezing your small head.
and there were even a few where you had your hand close to the camera. they were pictures of you when spencer would catch you off-guard. they weren’t the best pictures, but it felt right for him to print them out.
“spence, what are you doing?” you asked as you tried to push his phone away from your face.
“i’m just taking a picture of you!” he giggled.
“why? i look ugly!” you whined.
“no you don’t!” he blurted out as you playfully shoved his phone towards him as he continued taking pictures of you.
“sometimes, i really do hate you.” you joked, ignoring the fact that he said he doesn’t think you’re ugly.
you laughed at the pictures as your heart picked up its pace. aww’s were coming from everyone, making spencer blush an even deeper pink. you got to last page of the scrapbook. instead of seeing a page full of pictures, you saw a familiar handwriting that filled the page.
is this a letter?
“what does it say?” one of your friends asked.
you looked at spencer for permission to read it out loud. he hesitantly nodded. by the looks of it, everyone already knew why he made you a scrapbook, might as well go all the way.
you took a deep breath and started reading.
for the part-time photographer, full-time badass profiler:
dear y/n,
you have been a light in everyone’s life, especially mine. you brought happiness to a team during their darkest times, and you have always been there for me during mine. 
to the girl who is always seen taking pictures of everyone around her, you deserve to be photographed. 
through your lenses, i am one of the many people that fill up your scrapbooks and walls, but through my lens, you are the most beautiful person my camera has ever captured (and even then, these pictures don’t do you justice).
you are the kindest, brightest, and most breathtaking person i’ve ever met, and i am so lucky to have fallen in love with you.
happy birthday!
love, spencer.
you didn’t even notice the small pool of tears that sat over the letter. thank god the pages were protected. even penelope, emily, and jj were crying.
“oh, spencer.” you sighed as you pulled him in for a bone-crushing hug. he immediately hugged you back, placing his face in the crook of your neck. you pulled away to look at him.
“did you like it?” he whispered as he wiped away the stray tears on your face.
you smiled at him and leaned towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his lips. he smiled as he kissed you back. loud cheers and applauds can be heard from around the room, but the only things you can hear are yours and spencer’s beating hearts.
“my man!” derek yelled. everyone pulled out their phones to capture this sweet moment.
you both pulled away from each other, not being able to wipe the stupid smiles off your faces.
“i’m guessing you liked it.” spencer quipped, making you laugh.
“i love it. and i love you too.” you grinned. 
spencer pulled you in for another kiss, until you hear several clicks. you turned to see everyone with their phones pointed at you two. you hid your face in his neck in embarrassment, spencer laughing as he held you.
“this is definitely going in the scrapbook.” he chuckled.
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foodbytesback · 3 years
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FBB Book Club: Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain
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I want to say right off the bat that I don’t really know much about Anthony Bourdain.  I know he was a famous chef, with a (ok, several) popular TV show(s).  I know he tragically took his own life.  Until now, my only understanding of his personality was a gifset I saw on Tumblr where he’s dining with some people presumably from somewhere in the British Commonwealth and they toast “To the Queen!” and he shoots them all an “are-you-out-of-your-fucking-minds” sideways glance.
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When I received a copy of Kitchen Confidential as a Christmas gift shortly after declaring my interest in going into the food industry all those years ago, I set it aside, having little interest in books, let alone the guy posing with 2 swords on the cover.  Even in college, my pretentious obsession with books had more to do with owning them- and showing off my collection to flaunt how smart I must be- than actually reading them.  And not even his passing and the surrounding controversy piqued my interest, or, perhaps, I didn’t want to look like a poser who only cared because he was now dead or someone who worshiped “suffering artists” (in hindsight, a very Bourdain thing to be afraid of). But now, Roadrunner, a new Anthony Bourdain documentary, coming out and my inaction towards getting internet set up at my new apartment (which has, by now, since been remedied) have created a perfect storm for sitting down and reading the damn thing.
He says in the new introduction of the “updated” version I have that he wanted to write a book that fellow cooks would find relatable and entertaining rather than any sort of exposee, so I think I’ll mostly focus on how relatable it is to my own experience in the industry
The book opens with Bourdain regaling us with how he fell in love with food in the first place.  And while I can’t say I can relate to his tale of how having a bowl of vichyssoise and the subsequent revelation of “soup can be cold” blowing his mind, there was a bit from those early chapters that did really strike a chord with me.  After spending one summer working his first ever restaurant job, he returns the next summer to find that a (much busier) competitor bought out the place, but was willing to hire back former staff members.  He spends his first shift at the new restaurant running his mouth about how great he was at the last place, gets his ass kicked by the dinner rush, and eventually burns his hand.  When he asks for some burn cream, one of the more seasoned cooks looks him in the eyes, reaches into the broiler and pulls out a sizzle pan bare-handed.  Replace the arrogance about the last place he worked with my arrogance about being one year into culinary school (and then also dial the drama back a bit), and this was basically my experience at my first real restaurant job.  He managed to stick around- albeit bumped down to a prep cook and kept as far away from the line as possible- while I got fired after about a month (although they ended up going under a few months later, so I guess I had the last laugh). Either way- after such humbling experiences we were both driven by pure spite to prove them all wrong.
Some of his remarks on his time spent at the Culinary Institute of America also mirror my own experiences in Paul Smith’s College’s culinary program, mainly the focus on dying, classical French techniques- even if I more closely resembled the “pimple-face bedwetters” that he had to deal with in classes than a young Bourdain himself (and, to give Paul Smith’s some credit, they did make more of an effort to teach modern techniques than 1970s’ CIA).  And I can confirm, between myself and a few other people I knew from school, that his later comments about how culinary school grads are full of shit are completely true.  
Another thing that really struck a chord with me was his mention of a restaurant going under can haunt the location for years; in addition to the restaurant I mentioned having my first real job at I can think of at least 2 other restaurants in town that have opened and reclosed under new aliases some many times now that we all joke about how the buildings must be cursed.  And my heart fluttered when he mentioned a micromanaging (in a good way) restaurant owner he previously worked for keeping his ordering sheets organized by where the product was stored, as all of my experience with ordering has been with order sheets that were very much not that, dooming me to wander in circles as I check par levels.  
I could ramble on and on about how I can find things to relate to in each of his anecdotes (short of the one job where he walked in on the first day to find cooks running guns out of the prep room, I can’t say I’ve seen that).  Or, at least theoretically- as much of the latter half of the book deals more with the managerial side of chefdom that I’ve yet to experience firsthand. My point is: Anthony Bourdain set out to write a book by a cook, for cooks, and he hit the nail on the head.   He somehow conveys all the stress-fueled chaos of the industry, all the hyper-masculine, drug-riddled and violent cooks, the insufferable temperatures and tight quarters of the lines, the clueless customers and even more clueless restaurant owners, all with a gravitas that neither condemns nor condones it, telling it like it is without bragging about how he’s “gonna tell it like it is.”  Bourdain speaks truth in a way that, no matter how outlandish it may sound, you can’t help but eat up every word.
It almost makes me nostalgic, wishing I had never given up the never-ending ticket snakes and the thrill of the dinner rush in favor of air-conditioned, corporate kitchens of grocery stores.
Almost.
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tiedisms · 4 years
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          ◟ *  hello  and  welcome  to  tiedisms  :  my  brand  new  baby  ,  which  will  hopefully  help  you  out  when  you’re  plotting  ,  putting  together  a  connections  page  for  ur  muse  ,  etc  !  while  i’ll  mostly  be  reblogging  gifsets  &  other  inspo  -  posts  ,  i  wanted  to  kick  things  off  with  a  connection  masterlist  ---------  under  the  cut  you’ll  find  some  possible  connections  +  some  promts  to  get  you  going  ,  as  well  as  examples  of  specific  connections  i’ve  written  for  my  wanted  pages  .  i’d  appreciate  any  likes  and  reblogs  if  you  find  this  helpful  at  all  !!  
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◟ *   platonic  .  
childhood  friends  :  did  they  grow  up  on  the  same  street  ?  perhaps  they  could  look  into  each  other’s  rooms  through  their  windows  ?  muse  a  knows  how  muse  b  got  that  awful  scar  above  their  knee  &  muse  b  knows  the  details  of  muse  a’s  first  kiss  .  people  who’ve  known  each  other  their  entire  lives  often  work  in  synch  ,  tend  to  think  they  know  what’s  best  for  the  other  ,  too  .  have  they  managed  to  stay  friends  through  the  years  ?  did  they  grow  apart  after  high  school  or  maybe  get  into  a  huge  fight  ?  so  many  possibilies  !
this  said  ,  friends  who’ve  grown  apart  :  losing  a  friend  can  cause  just  as  much  heartache  as  a  break  up  !  did  life  get  in  the  way  or  did  something  cause  a  strain  on  the  relationship  ?  did  one  person  have  to  exit  the  situation  because  the  friendship  was  becoming  more  and  more  toxic  ?  have  they  been  asking  mutual  friends  about  the  other  or  did  they  cut  ties  entirely  ?  
roommates  .  did  they  want  to  move  in  together  or  did  they  respond  to  the  same  craigslist  add  ?  did  they  move  in  at  the  same  time  or  did  one  of  them  come  around  later  ,  new  girl  style  ?  do  they  get  along  or  do  they  butt  heads  at  every  corner  ?  who  cooks  and  who  does  the  dishes  ?  who’s  always  way  too  loud  and  who  complains  about  the  noise  ?
best  friend’s  sibling  /  sibling’s  best  friend  .  extended  family  of  sorts  ,  have  always  remained  at  the  sidelines  of  each  other’s  lives  .  do  they  seem  to  take  on  sibling  roles  around  one  another  ,  too  ?  or  are  they  pretending  to  get  along  for  their  friend’s  sake  ? 
shared  ex  .  listen  to  fiona  apple’s  ‘  newspaper  ‘  !  you  can  read  this  plot  ,  as  i’ve  written  it  for  my  own  connections  page  ,  down  below  .
good  /  bad  influence  .  people’s  lifestyles  rub  off  on  each  other  !  is  one  actively  trying  to  change  the  other  or  is  it  simply  a  side  -  effect  of  them  spending  so  much  time  together  ?  does  the  bad  influence  ever  feel  wrong  for  taking  the  other  down  a  dark  path  ?  does  the  good  influence  ever  worry  the  other  is  far  beyond  saving  ?
◟ *   romantic  .
friends  to  lovers  :  perhaps  my  favorite  trope  of  all  time  !  look  back  at  that  childhood  friends  connection  &  now  add  years  of  unspoken  feelings  .  how  long  have  they  been  in  love  with  each  other  ?  who  fell  in  love  first  ?  are  they  even  aware  of  their  feelings  ?  growing  in  love  instead  of  falling  !  what  would  their  families  and  other  friends  think  ?  are  there  already  rumors  and  jokes  about  them  being  together  ?  is  one  of  them  currently  in  a  relationship  or  getting over  an  ex  ?  do  they  find  it  hard  to  commit  to  other  people  ,  unaware  that  they’re  always  going  to  put  each  other  first  ?  //   alternatively  :  friends  to  lovers  but  after  it’s  crashed  and  burned  ,  hate  each  other  for  how  things  ended  between  them  ,  but  still  feel  so  much  love  for  each  other  because  they  were  always  friends  first  .
casual  exes  :  the  type  that  ended  on  good  terms  ,  are  maybe  still  friends  ,  too  .  why  did  they  break  up  and  how  did  they  manage  to  do  so  amicably  ?  i  heard  somewhere  that  if  you’re  still  friends  after  a  break  up  u  either  never  were  in  love  or  are  still  in  love  ---  is  that  the  case  for  them  ?  do  they  find  it  easy  to  laugh  about  their  time  together  or  is  there  still  some  awkwardness  there  ?
unrequited  crush  .  let  your  muses  have  innocent  crushes  !  we  all  fall  in  love  with  the  idea  of  a  person  sometimes  .  does  the  person  they  have  a  crush  on  use  that  to  boost  their  ego  ?  or  are  they  constantly  trying  to  distance  themselves  ?  does  your  muse  want  to  make  a  move  or  are  they  content  admiring  from  afar  ?  what  do  they  like  about  this  person  ?
sexual  tension  .  the  air  is  heavy  between  them  &  there’s  clearly  something  there  that  they  haven’t  acted  upon  yet  .  why  ?  is  it  because  they  want  to  be  mindful  of  other  people  ?  because  they  don’t  like  each  other  much  ?  because  they’re  good  friends  and  don’t  want  to  ruin  that  ?  have  they  acted  upon  their  feelings  before  but  promised  to  never  do  that  again  ?
◟ *   examples  .
*  you  don't  ever  have  to  be  stronger  than  you  really  are  . ———  in  which  .  .  .  whenever  tears  pool  in  the  corners  of  doe  eyes  ,  the  other  is  there  to  stop  them  from  flooding  the  room  .  the  purest  love  x's  ever  known  ,  a  guardian  angel  ,  a  hand  to  hold  when  things  get  tough  .
* we  were  cursed  the  moment  that  he  kissed  us  . ———  in which  .  .  .  a  shared  love  for  someone  who  can't  show  affection  kindly  brought  the  two  closer  than  anything  else  ever  could  ,  the  overlapping  memories  of  a  past  lover  binding  them  forever  .
*  it's  a  bad  time  for  a  good  time  .  ———  in which  .  .  .  nothing  stings  like  rejection  does  ,  pride  often  stronger  than  unfulfilled  desires  .  now  ,  they  spit  venom  whenever  they  try  to  lure  them  back  underneath  their  sheets  .
*  pour  a  little  salt  ,  we  were  never  here  ———  in  which  .  .  .  love  lingers  just  underneath  the  surface  ,  heard  in  every  word  they  say  ,  but  never  confessed  .  doomed  from  the  start  ,  both  nearly  choke  when  calling  each  other  just  friends  .
*  you  can  count  on  me  to  misbehave ———  in  which  .  .  .  just  kids  playing  games  ,  felt  young  whenever  she  was  around  them  until  a  drunken  night  changed  the  way  they  saw  each  other  ,  newfound  tension  bringing  nothing  but  chaos  .
*  in  my  head  ,  i  do  everything  right  ———  in  which  .  .  .  heart  full  of  love  ,  but  hands  empty  ;  x  was  careless  with  their  feelings  ,  ran  away  the  first  time  they  had  a  fight  ,  fell  right  back  into  someone  else's  arms  .
*  fuck  and  make  up  like  it's  maybelline  , ———  in  which  .  .  .  tangled  up  in  each  other's  sheets  almost  every  day  ,  can  never  truly  say  goodbye  despite  their  constant  fights  ;  anger  fuels  lust  ,  the  roughness  of  it  all  only  makes  it  more  exciting  for  a  girl  dying  to  feel  anything  .
*  don't  blame  the  drunk  caller  , ———  in  which  .  .  .  late  nights  have  never  been  kind  to  x  &  there's  a  number  they  never  removed  from  their  speed  dial  .  both  swear  the  love  has  gone  cold  ,  but  x  still  calls  and  they  always  pick  up  .
*  baby  ,  i  was  born  tired  , ———  in  which  .  .  .  end  hard  days  tangled  in  each  other's  arms  on  the  couch  ,  smoke  filling  the  air  ,  no  pressure  in  a  safe  space  .  a  platonic  soulmate  ,  someone  to  cling  to  when  you  need  it  most  .
*  must  try  harder  than  kissing  all  of  my  friends  , ———  in  which  .  .  .  nothing  stings  like  rejection  when  you're  used  to  people  crawling  at  your  feet  ,  x  has  weaved  her  way  into  the  lives  and  beds  of  people  around  them  ,  as  if  to  prove  a  point  ,  begging  for  attention  .
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So I had this random thought that my dream cast for the Munsters reboot would be Danny DeVito as Grandpa and Sandra Oh as Lily. And I think they should hire someone more unknown to play Herman.
Do you have a dream cast for the reboot or any opinions on casting?
Interesting choices! I've only seen Sandra in The Princess Diaries so I know she can do comedy well and I know from various gifsets of Killing Eve that she's good at drama so she might do Lily well. Danny is just always funny.
I don't really have an ideal cast in mind because it's just hard for me to think of who could possibly be as good as the original one, but I have some ideas.
I agree an unknown guy might be best for Herman. The consistent fan choice of Brad Garrett is completely wrong IMO. Just because he's tall and funny and has a long face doesn't mean he'd be a good Herman (and no offense meant to Brad. He was one of the only characters I liked on Everyone Loves Raymond!). Not to mention he's a little too old at this point. I've rarely seen any fancasts for him that I think are actually good. I think Herman is hard to cast and most people don't really pick an actor based on comedic skill and looks very well so much as obvious choices.
Same for Lily. She gets some fancasts almost as bad as Herman (someone once said Elvira and Christine Taylor should play her and Marilyn. Dude... Marilyn is 21 at best and Christine is middle aged!! Elvira is also far too old!). I was actually a bit envious Tim Burton managed to snag Catherine Zeta Jones because I think she has a lot of the same flair for drama as Yvonne de Carlo and she can do comedy (see: Sinbad).
Lily isn't just some dark goth mom like a lot of fans think; she's perky, fiery, sweet, strong, intelligent, maternal, hilarious. You need someone who like Yvonne can play Donna Reed with a complete straight face while cooking in a cauldron and hanging cobwebs around. (It's funny, I compared Lily and Herman to Wanda Maximoff and Vision recently, and it occurs to me that Elisabeth Olsen did this satirical role very well on Wandavision! Not sure how she'd play Lily but it's an idea).
Grandpa would definitely need a comedy icon. Eddie Izzard was a great choice in Mockingbird Lane. I saw one site suggested Henry Winkler and I think he's good. Mark Hamill doesn't necessarily look the part, but not only has he already played a vampire but he's very funny (and I love him).
Eddie definitely needs an unknown. Most of the Stranger Things boys would have been great, but they're all teenagers now.
Marilyn would do well with an unknown too, but I also wouldn't say no to Anya Taylor Joy. Her looks are a bit more exotic than Marilyn's, who is supposed to be the ideal 50s beauty with classic looks, but she's closer in age than most people's choices (seriously people, she's probably 18 and y'all keep picking 32 year old women to play her!) and she's a really good actor. And she's no stranger to creepy roles, so playing a sunny-goth like Marilyn should be easy. If Margot Robbie were younger I think she'd be an even better choice because she's legitimately so funny.
Thanks for the ask!
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Text
Neverending Story
F/M Pairing: Y/N x Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)
Word Count: 11K
Genre: Married Life AU
Warnings: Smut and Language 
Summary: Y/N met her husband unexpectedly, and their subsequent relationship has been anything but predictable. But Changbin has always agreed to give Y/N whatever she wanted, but that is suddenly put to the test when Y/N takes things a step too far.
Note: The Holy Trinity of 3racha Married AUs is complete. @lordseochangbin​ I hope you don’t mind that I tagged you, but this is the fic inspired by that gifset from earlier this week.
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Han Jisung had promised me a substantial raise, but after looking out over the podium to appraise the crowd of rich businessmen, I suddenly regretted ever agreeing to work for him in the first place. Because my boss was currently lying in his fancy upstate apartment dying of the flu while I was standing in his place with cue cards in hand to deliver an eloquent speech to a bunch of men who would probably laugh at my expense. But let’s also not forget to mention the fact that I’ve always been extremely introverted which meant that public speaking equated to sweat-drenched palms and the nervous sway to my gait as I rocked back and forth on my feet with hands behind my back.
 “Hello,” I spoke into the microphone, wincing when my voice echoed over the speakers. Apparently, the audio feedback in this ballroom was something out of the early 20th century before people had figured out how to work a sound system. “On behalf of Mr. Han,” I said, resisting the urge to lick away the last remnants of my cheap lipstick. “He would like to thank everyone for their support with his new summer project.”
A light smattering of applause, probably from those arrogant benefactors who liked to come into the office to kiss Jisung’s ass and compliment him on all of his successes. They didn’t mean a single word of the bullshit spewing from their mouths, especially the women who openly gaped at him right in front of my desk. “In regards to the company’s s-stocks,” I said, stuttering over the word while fumbling with my notecards. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this nervous, mind working a mile a minute as I tried to desperately compose myself.
And because everything was already progressing this poorly, I started to lose my grip on the stack of notecards aiding my speech, watching as they fell to the ground and spread completely out of order. I immediately dropped to my knees, hurriedly gathering the notecards back into my grasp before inwardly cursing Han Jisung for what had to be the hundredth time that evening. I managed to collect the notecards together on top of the podium before gazing out into the unamused collection of wealthy aristocrats. “I’m sure it had something to do with fourth-quarter profits,” I said while clearing my throat. “Thank you for coming.”
I rushed off the stage without another word, drenched in sweat and failure, determined to make it out of the building before someone else could comment on the unfortunate incident. It reminded me of a similar calamity involving my asshole of an ex-boyfriend who had left me high and dry at one of his seminars to apologize to the people who paid to see his lecture. Why were the men in my life always determined to embarrass me?
With rapid steps, I was nearly out the door before an unfamiliar hand wrapped itself around my wrist. I paused with a wince, turning around to look at the rather handsome gentleman who was waiting patiently behind me. “I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly, assuming he must have something to do with the event. I’m sure he was not pleased with my humiliating display, especially when tonight's proceedings had been touted as a professional gathering. “Mr. Han couldn’t make it tonight and I was trying to fill in for him. Please don’t let this reflect badly on the company.”
A smirk graced his sharp features. “Don’t apologize. I thought it was great.”
“Excuse me?”
“The speech was great,” the man continued, dark hair falling into his eyes like a curtain. He let go of my wrist before offering me a more professional greeting. “Seo Changbin.”
“Seo?” I repeated, searching my mind for any mention of that name. I dealt with a lot of rich men when it came to scouring the city for potential leads, sorting through dozens of profiles every day I walked into the office. Usually with a cup of coffee in hand because Jisung wouldn’t be able to function otherwise.
“I own a line of hotel chains,” Changbin nodded. “Does that sound more familiar?”
His tone was teasing. “I do remember now, Mr. Seo.”
“Ah, don’t call me that,” he insisted. “You don’t have to put on an act like the others.”
I smiled at his easy-going nature. “Well, I’m glad you were at least entertained by my speech.”
Changbin glanced up at the door behind me. “Were you leaving already?”
I followed his gaze, albeit more hesitantly now. “I was planning to.”
“Good,” Changbin said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he leaned in closer. “Mind if I join you?”
I was flushed for an entirely new reason now. “I would be honored.”
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Han Jisung was the greatest employer in the world, and I would do everything in my power to serve as his PA in the future. Because I would owe Jisung a million heartfelt expressions of gratitude for asking me to deliver a speech in his absence. Leading me to one of the most gorgeous men I had ever met since the insanely attractive graduate student who served as a TA for my college writing seminar.
But it was hard to think about Jisung, or anything rational for that matter when my legs were practically bent at my chest, lungs devoid of oxygen while Seo Changbin proceeded to fuck me into the mattress. It was a really nice mattress too, compliments of the fancy hotel suite he had reserved for the weekend. I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Changbin was a very wealthy man who had way too many muscles and a cock that stretched the sensitive walls of my pussy with every subsequent thrust deep inside to the point where it felt like he was spearing me against the bed. 
Not that I minded in the slightest as I ran my hands down the smooth contours of his back, moaning loudly against his shoulder. It was completely unfair for someone to look this good, and I had nearly lost my mind when he had crawled between my legs, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt to reveal an upper-body straight out of the Men’s Health magazine. Because fate had deemed me fortunate enough to have the opportunity to fuck someone who belonged in my erotic fantasies, dick heavy on my tongue as I blew him under the desk in his office. 
“Changbin,” I groaned, thighs trembling from their current position. 
“You’re cumming, aren’t you, Y/N?” he asked in a raspy voice thick with lust and an irresistible baritone.
“Yes,” I managed around a gasp because Changbin had started to thumb across my clit with practiced movements, intentions perfectly clear as he leaned back to watch the way my back arched towards the ceiling. It had been a long time since someone had made me cum like that and I was still high from the effects of my orgasm while Changbin chased his release with several more slow grinds in exaggerated succession before filling the condom with a grunt.
I was fighting for air, sweat dripping from my bangs as Changbin fell onto the bed next to me. “How long have you been working out?”
Changbin chuckled. “Since high school.”
“It really shows,” I said, twisting my head to the side because I couldn't get enough of his firm biceps.
Changbin reached across the bed, fingers sliding through his cum dripping from the folds of my labia. “I haven’t asked for your number yet, Y/N.”
My entire body lit with excitement at his words because there was a very obvious intention in such an innocent comment. It meant that Changbin wanted to see me again, and I would give absolutely anything to feel his cock sliding in and out at his own luxury. Of course, there would be a lot of things he would come to ask me for in the future and very rarely would I ever tell him no, especially once he slipped a gorgeous diamond ring onto my finger.
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I would also come to learn that there are few things my husband cannot resist in this world and the opportunity to fuck me over the kitchen counter was definitely one of them. I rarely woke up early enough to cook breakfast, so on the rare chance that I managed to obey my alarm clock, I would trudge into the kitchen wearing nothing but one of Changbin’s college t-shirts to pull out a carton of eggs from the fridge. It was the least I could do for my husband since he was always the more romantic one in our relationship.
Lured by the smell of coffee and bacon, Changbin found me in the kitchen, twisting my shirt around my waist to push his cock deep inside. Bracing my elbows against the rough marble of the countertop, I did my best to spread my legs wide for him because nothing felt better in the morning than Changbin fucking me from behind, fingers digging bruises into the skin of my hip bones. “Where did this come from?” I gasped because Changbin had figured out how to roll his hips just right to grind my clit against the side of the worn surface. 
“When you walk around the apartment wearing nothing but a shirt,” Changbin said, growling at my ear. “I have to fuck you like the little slut you want to be.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?” I smirked, receiving a firm smack on my ass for my sarcastic question.
“Is that what you want?” Changbin asked, encouraged by my loud moans. 
“What if I showed up to your office dressed like this?”
“You better not,” he grumbled, hands sliding up my shirt to squeeze my breasts. “These are for my eyes only.”
“Greedy,” I moaned, pushing back against him because I was desperately chasing a good orgasm.
“It’s your fault,” Changbin said, picking up the pace once he started detecting the familiar signs of my impending release. But at this point in time, we knew everything about one another’s bodies. And Changbin always managed to hit even deeper, reaching further and further inside with every aggressive meeting of our hips, the lewd sounds mingling with our moans.
“I was feeling particularly horny this morning,” I replied, finally letting go after a strategic thrust that snapped the chord anchoring me to reality. Changbin followed soon after, grinding his cock as he rode out his own orgasm. And despite my oversensitivity, Changbin ignored my whines and shoved his cum back where it belonged. 
“Alright, Mrs. Seo,” he said, chuckling at the sluggish way I pulled myself back onto my feet, shirt falling back into place. “Will you shower with me before I go to work?”
“What about breakfast?”
“I guess I’ll just have you instead,” he said and I grimaced at the cheesy comment.
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Jisung was always late in the mornings, but he could get away with it because nobody would criticize the CEO. But his status didn’t mean that Minho, Jisung’s closest advisor, was any less of a nuisance when he complained to anyone who would listen. Which was often me because my desk was located right next to Jisung’s office. “It’s like he doesn’t care,” Minho whined.
I nodded my head slowly, focused on responding to the emails flooding my inbox. “He’s got a lot on his mind.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Minho immediately opposed. “He’s just lazy! I get up every morning at the crack of dawn to come into the office. Why can’t he do the same?”
I glanced up wearily to reply because Minho was probably expecting me to agree with everything he was saying. Graciously, I was relieved of that unnecessary burden when I saw Seungmin walking in our direction. “Minnie!”
I waved him down desperately and he offered me a smile with his cell phone in hand. “Y/N,” he said, handing me the device from over the counter, blatantly ignoring a sour Minho. “My dog had her puppies.”
I immediately cooed at the sight of the tiny little Dalmations, squealing at the sight of their tiny ears. “Seungmin, they’re adorable!”
The younger boy grinned. “You know you’d be the first person on my list since I’m looking for new homes.”
“I don’t know, Seungmin,” I said, reluctantly returning his phone. “Changbin would be really mad if I brought home a dog.”
“Changbin? Mad at you?” Seungmin scoffed. “That’s impossible, Y/N.”
“Changbin gives you whatever you want,” Minho added as if unable to resist jumping into our conversation.
“But not this,” I said. “One time, I thought it might be nice to bring home a fish for the apartment, but when Changbin saw it on the coffee table, he complained for hours about how gross they were. If I even mention a dog, Changbin immediately changes the subject.”
“Well, I guess it never hurts to ask,” Seungmin said with a shrug. “But they really do need new homes. They’ll be old enough in a few weeks to leave their mother.”
“Don’t try to talk me into this,” I said, shooting him a glare. “You know I have a weak resolve.”
“What if you at least come over this afternoon to see them?” Seungmin asked as if blatantly ignoring my last demand.
“Can I come too?” Minho asked. “You know how boring it gets around here.”
“As long as you can at least pretend you might take one,” Seungmin said. “I’m sure your cats would be thrilled.”
“My cats are angels,” Minho said. “They would love a new friend.”
“To torment,” I said. “Won’t they get jealous when you give the puppy all of your attention?”
“My babies know how to share,” Minho replied. “They were taught well.”
“I’d hate to see you as a teacher,” Seungmin said, receiving a glare in response.
The conversation ended there, but the subject remained a heavy point of focus for the remainder of the day. I couldn’t stop thinking about the puppies, finding myself distracted during the most menial of tasks. I even managed to completely ignore Jisung’s greeting because I was so lost in my thoughts. Subsequently, my boss had stood at the front of my desk to snap his fingers in my line of vision. “Y/N?”
“Sorry, sir,” I apologized immediately, blushing because I knew I should be focused on my work.
And I knew that agreeing to visit Seungmin’s puppies would definitely be a horrible idea. The minute they looked at me with adorable button noses and innocent eyes, I would be breaking down and demanding to have one for myself. I knew this would happen, but I still tortured myself and drove with Seungmin back to his apartment, falling in love a dozen times over with each and every single puppy who subsequently chewed on my frayed sandals or plopped themselves right in the middle of my lap. “You’ve ruined me,” I told Seungmin because there was no way I wasn’t bringing home a puppy and that only meant trouble. 
Changbin absolutely hated the idea of pets and had repeatedly denied me every time we walked past a pet shelter or saw a dog during our walks through the park. I could never understand why he was so adamantly opposed, but I figured it had something to do with the fact that he was an obsessive clean freak who liked everything in his life to be controlled. Puppies were a factor one simply couldn’t plan for and they tended to possess destructive tendencies, especially when it came to the things they really believed were toys instead of expensive shoes.
“I’ll call you when you can pick one up,” Seungmin said, following me to the door of his apartment. 
“What am I doing?” I groaned loudly, pointing an accusing finger in Seungmin’s direction. “I’m holding you personally accountable.”
Seungmin offered me a grin. “Tell Changbin to call me.”
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Eight weeks later, I chose a strategic day when I knew Changbin would be coming home late from work because of a board meeting. Subsequently, I snuck the small Dalmatian puppy upstairs into our apartment, holding tight to its wriggling body before she immediately made her presence known the moment I put her down on the floor. “Don’t pee there,” I said, ushering her away from the pricey carpet Changbin had bought for the foyer.
My plan was to hide her in the guest bathroom, praying that she would keep from barking too loudly when Changbin came home. “Changbin’s going to kill me,” I thought to myself while opening the door for the excited puppy who ran inside to smell the low hanging duvet with curiosity. 
Changbin rarely raised his voice around me, and I could only think of a few incidents where Changbin and I had truly fought. Most of the time, it was because of his mother who quite simply hated the idea of her son being with someone who didn’t come from money. There was also the issue of me working for Jisung because Changbin would prefer it if I stayed at home, but that definitely wasn’t happening. I stood my ground against him, making my case until he had reluctantly relented, muttering something about how he had enough money to take care of both of us.
However, in neither of those cases had I ever went behind Changbin’s back to do something that I knew he would hate. Of course, I had also never wanted something as bad as the adorable puppy who had stolen my heart the minute she first wagged her tail while I carefully stroked the soft fur of her ears. “Changbin will understand,” I said to the puppy who cocked her head to the side as she watched me. “For now you can stay in here until I think of a better way to introduce you.”
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Bang Chan was one of those people who never acted like he had enough money to buy the entire city of New York. He was funny and laid back, laughing with everyone despite whether or not they were a big donor or just an employee. He was one of Changbin’s best friends and he always invited the two of us to his parties at his extravagant condo. As an invitation-only affair, Chan’s parties had become the envy of anyone who was denied the opportunity to attend. More often than not, the parties became a friendly get-together which meant that some of Changbin’s other friends would also be attending. But Hyunjin and Felix always drank way too much beer to be considered appropriate for what was deemed a “suit and tie only” event.
“You look gorgeous,” Changbin said as we waited outside the door. 
“Well, it’s hard not to look good in this dress,” I said because, despite my refusal, Changbin had insisted on buying it for me. Then again, I still wasn’t quite used to watching Changbin pull out his credit card for something that cost nearly half a million dollars. 
“Aren’t you glad I bought it?” Changbin asked, reaching over to finger the delicate lace outlining the dress’ neckline.
“I’ll be even more satisfied when you take it off later,” I said casually, smirking at his sharp inhale as the door suddenly opened to reveal Chan standing on the other side.
“You’re late!” he lightly chastised us, pulling Changbin inside by the hand with more force than necessary. I grinned at the affectionate display, removing my jacket for the server who waited next to the entryway adorned in an elegant suit. “How was the meeting?” Chan asked, making easy conversation as he led us to a nearby waiter holding a tray of flutes filled with champagne. 
“They liked the presentation,” Changbin replied, handing me a glass. “I think some of the new trustees favored the last approach.”
“Of course they do,” Chan nodded. “But you know that you can do whatever you want. It’s impossible to satisfy everyone.”
“I know,” Changbin said, curling an arm around my waist to keep me close to his side. Not that I minded considering the sea of unfamiliar faces who all swarmed to Changbin like he was a celebrity. I guess in their world he was, but it might be funny to tell them about how soft he got after I jerked him off under the sheets. 
You see, Chan was the general manager of Changbin’s largest hotel and he always did his best to ease the burden that Changbin took responsibility for as he oversaw dozens of hotels and thousands of employees. Felix and Hyunjin also helped where they could, not just as friends but as personal assistants to Changbin at the main office. And I happen to know from experience that nobody made a better cup of coffee than Hwang Hyunjin. 
Felix was also dating one of my best friends who I had introduced him to while Changbin and I were still dating, inviting a plus one for the grand opening of his very first hotel expansion. I was surprised when Felix demonstrated just how loving he could be because Changbin often told me horror stories of Felix’s more play boyish tendencies back when they went to college together. However, Felix had been nothing but polite and loving towards my friend since the moment the two first met over a few too many glasses of wine.
“Rina,” I smiled warmly, graciously accepting her invitation to talk outside on Chan’s balcony because the party was suffocating inside. 
“Let me see the pictures!” my friend squealed, practically jerking the cell phone from my grasp. “Cute!” Rina declared, scrolling through my camera roll. “And Changbin doesn’t know? I really do admire you.”
“Well, if you were any louder, he might find out,” I said, checking over my shoulder to ensure that Changbin was still in deep conversation with Felix. “I heard you visited Felix’s parents the other day.”
Rina groaned, handing me back my phone. “I’m pretty sure they hate me. I made the worst impression possible.”
“What did you do?” I asked, rolling my eyes because Rina had a tendency to go overboard.
“Well, for one thing, when his mother asked for help with the food, I may have accidentally started a small kitchen fire.”
“You know, it really doesn’t matter if the fire is small or not.”
“Yeah,” Rina agreed sheepishly.
“Does that mean things are okay with between you and Felix?” I took a sip of my wine, thinking my question innocent enough until I heard Rina let out a shaky breath. “What is it?”
Rina shook her head, leaning out over the balcony. “Felix is acting weird these days. He comes home late now and he doesn’t bother paying me much attention.”
“Felix?” I immediately questioned because I wanted to make sure we were talking about the same boy who bought every single bouquet of roses in the flower shop on Main Street for their anniversary.
Rina suddenly moved in closer, eyes carefully ensuring that no voices were potentially listening. “I think Felix is cheating on me.”
“Rina,” I gasped because the accusation was incredibly serious. “Why would you think that? After he just took you home to his parents?”
“I think he just did that because I kept insisting,” Rina huffed. “I’m serious here, Y/N. There’s something going on with him.”
I wracked my brain for any indication that Felix might have said something to offer justification for Rina’s claim. “But how can you be sure?”
“I can’t,” Rina said. “That’s why I’m going into the office tomorrow night.”
“The office?”
“He’s probably meeting her there.”
“Who?”
“Haven’t you been listening?” Rina hissed. “Felix comes home really late all of a sudden and he doesn’t talk to me about why?”
“That’s just how Felix is.”
“You don’t know him like I do,” Rina said, dismissing my comment. “I’m planning to follow him. See what he’s really doing.”
“Rina, this sounds like a horrible idea.”
“As bad as sneaking a dog into Changbin’s apartment?”
“They can’t even be compared,” I exclaimed. “And I plan to tell Changbin about the dog.”
“Good luck with that,” Rina sneered, fingers tapping the side of her wine glass. “Can you at least come with me tomorrow?”
“To spy on Felix?”
“As a precaution,” Rina said as if that improved the situation.
“Rina, you need to trust Felix. I don’t think he would do anything like this to hurt you.”
“Please, Y/N,” Rina said, reaching out for my hand. “Best friends are supposed to come before boys.”
“Don’t use that against me,” I said. “Besides, how do you expect us to just sneak into the office?”
“Leave that to me,” Rina said, patting my shoulder as if to show her appreciation. “Just tell your man that we’re going out for the night.”
“Fine, but you owe me big time.”
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Nevertheless, why did it have to be so cold for our impromptu spy mission?
“Don’t say I never did anything nice for you,” I commented dryly, gazing out at Changbin’s office building from across the street. “We’re definitely going to get caught.”
“Not with that attitude,” Rina said. “Are you ready?”
“I suppose I have no choice,” I grumbled.
“Felix didn’t respond to my last message,” Rina said, already making her way out of the car. “But I saw that he was parked in the garage.”
“Changbin’s still here too,” I said with a shiver because I had been desperately hoping that my husband would leave on time for once. However, the moment he found out that I was going out with Rina, he called up Hyunjin and told him that tonight would make a great time to work on their new project. “At least he won’t accidentally wander into the guest bedroom and find Jane in the bathroom.”
“Wouldn’t that be hilarious though?” Rina giggled. “Changbin is going to throw a fit when he finds that dog.”
“He hasn’t noticed anything so far,” I said, although he came very close to suspicion in bed the other night when he realized that something that sounded a lot like barking was emanating through the walls.
“Y/N, you can’t hide that dog forever, but I need your full attention tonight,” Rina said, snapping her fingers while she pointed at the office near the top where Felix worked. “I have someone on the inside who’s gonna help us.”
I had a bad feeling about this mysterious insider that was only confirmed the moment Jeongin stepped outside to greet us at the front. “That figures,” I muttered because Jeongin practically idolized Rina who always showered him in affection. If Rina and Felix weren’t so obviously in love, Jeongin would be the first person to show up on Rina’s doorstep with a bouquet of flowers in hand.
“Changbin and Hyunjin are in a meeting,” Jeongin explained as he led us to the elevators. “Felix should still be in his office, but he mentioned something about leaving before I came downstairs.”
Jeongin was also Felix’s intern and I highly doubted that he would appreciate the younger’s blatant participation in Rina’s witch hunt. “Perfect,” Rina nodded. “Now tell Y/N about that woman that Felix keeps meeting with.”
Jeongin turned to me with a gasp. “I have no idea who she is, Y/N, but she’s showed up every day this week!”
“See!” Rina exclaimed, waving her hands around like she had suddenly solved the world’s greatest crisis.
“I don’t see anything,” I told her, stoically unmoved when we arrived at our designated floor. “Felix meets with a lot of people. I don’t know if you’re aware, but he kinda works for a pretty big business.”
“We’ll see about that,” Rina declared, heels loudly clicking against the floor as we followed our newly appointed Jeongin tour guide. He led us to one of the desks outside of Felix’s office, searching through some reports until he found what he was looking for, handing it to Rina. “This is the last spreadsheet for all the transactions from Felix’s company credit card.”
“They’re from the same restaurant,” Rina said, reading over the list with narrowed eyes. 
“Business meetings,” I said.
“Or, he’s treating this homewrecker to sushi and bad soju,” Rina said. “What else do you have, Jeongin?”
The younger boy obediently knelt down to open another drawer, but let out a little gasp when he jerked on Rina’s arm and forced the two of them on the floor. “Get down!” he hissed, but I reacted late to his sudden warning, realizing my mistake a moment too late when Changbin was already calling my name from somewhere to my right. 
“Distract him,” Rina whispered urgently, tugging on my jeans.
I rolled my eyes but tried to put on my best smile when Changbin stopped on the other side of Jeongin’s desk. “Y/N,” he said, clearly surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d visit you on my way home,” I lied smoothly, resisting the urge to kick out at Rina in her vulnerable position.
“Where’s Rina?” he asked, arms flexing enticingly in his tight-fit shirt.
“Probably at home,” I said, before trying on my best pout. “Are you not happy to see me?”
Changbin’s expression immediately softened. “Of course I am, Y/N,” he said. “I’m glad you came by. I’m leaving soon so we can ride home together.”
“Perfect,” I said, stepping away from the desk to eagerly lead Changbin further away from where my best friend was hiding. I also didn’t stop him when his strong arms encouraged me into the firm expanse of his chest, cologne heavy against his neck. 
“Do you need anything?” Changbin asked while calling for the elevator. 
I glanced over his shoulder at Jeongin who was trying to tell me something, but I quickly determined that he would be really bad at the whisper challenge. “I’m okay,” I said, clutching tightly to his arm as led me downstairs.
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Seungmin and Minho were acceptable lunch buddies and despite their near-constant arguing, I still sat with them in the company’s cafeteria, enjoying whatever organic food they planned to serve that day. “How is the puppy, Y/N?” Seungmin asked over a mouthful of potatoes.
“She’s great,” I said, unable to resist a smile at the thought of my charming new friend.
“Does Changbin know?”
“Not yet,” I said, hesitantly poking at my salad. “But I have a plan to fix that tonight.”
“Is that so?” Minho butted in, studying me from across the table. “Maybe he could buy you a new apartment across the city.”
“That’s not necessary,” I said. “Because I plan to thoroughly convince him.”
“Sounds like an innuendo to me,” Minho said, reaching out for my hand. “Congratulations, Y/N, you’ve finally figured out the real purpose of marriage.”
“Manipulation,” Seungmin concluded.
“Stop it you two,” I groaned. “I’m not manipulating Changbin.”
“Seduction sounds like manipulation to me.”
“I’m merely encouraging him to change his mind,” I said, ignoring their unnecessary commentary.
“By dicking him down, I get it,” Minho nodded. “I’ve done the same things to my girlfriends.”
“No wonder you’re still single,” Seungmin said earning him a flick across his forehead. “Ow!”
“I’m sure Changbin has affection for animals somewhere deep down inside,” I continued. “He’ll be so much happier with a dog around the apartment.”
“Or he’ll be really furious,” Seungmin said. “I guess if you really need to return the puppy, I can always take her back.”  
“No,” I whined at the thought. “We’ve already bonded.”
“Well, if it comes down between your bond with man’s best friend and the man, which would you rather choose?” Minho asked.
I really hated them both sometimes.
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There were three things that Seo Changbin truly loved: 1. His family 2. His wife and 3. His wife in lingerie. Which is exactly what he was going to get the moment he stepped inside that door. Because tonight, I needed to do everything in my power to appeal to him.
I nodded in satisfaction as I studied my appearance in the floor-length mirror in our bedroom, adjusting the thin fabric of my stockings as they ran up the expanse of my thighs, attached to the garter belt Changbin had bought me for my birthday. Once I was satisfied, I tugged on a silky black robe, loosely tying the belt around the middle. “Perfect,” I declared.
Next, I made sure that Changbin’s favorite food was ready, table set with our finest cutlery. I also pulled out his favorite wine, filling two glasses while keeping the bottle cool in a bucket of ice. Finally, I lit a few candles around the table and the perimeter of the dining room, trying for a romantic mood since Changbin was secretly a huge fun of those extravagances.
“Do it for Jane, Y/N,” I whispered to myself, flinching when I heard the sound of Changbin’s key in the lock.
My husband called out my name and I directed him to the dining room, pleased when his eyes immediately froze on my attire. “Y/N?”
“Binnie,” I grinned, taking a seat on the edge of the table, kicking out one of the chairs as an invitation. “I made your favorite.”
Changbin tugged at the tie messily wrapped around his collar, taking my hint and planting himself down next to me. One hand caressed my exposed leg through the fabric of my robe while he looked up at me with dark eyes. “What’s all this for?”
“For you, of course,” I smiled, reaching back to grab a strawberry, holding it up to his lips.
Changbin took the offered fruit, eyes never leaving mine. “Is there something you want, Y/N?”
Changbin knew me too well, but I kept up the act, sliding down the table and into his lap. My thighs were planted on either side of his body and Changbin delicately traced the lace lining of my stockings to the place where they disappeared beneath fabric. “Does there have to be a reason?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“No,” Changbin agreed, eager hands working the belt of my robe. “But there usually is.” He was silent for a moment as he drew the sleeves down my shoulders, leaving me completely on display for his eyes to leisurely explore. “You can tell me, honey.”
“I can?” I asked breathlessly, planting kisses across his forehead while his fingers dug into my ass to pull me even closer.
“Whatever you want,” Changbin agreed, hands smoothing across the skin of my stomach while he started to slowly grind his hips against mine. He was impossibly hard beneath the tight material of his fitted slacks, cock moving perfectly in time with the little moans he forced out of me. I was practically drooling at the thought of Changbin’s cock, stretching my lips across the head and tasting his precum. 
“Binnie,” I gasped, jittery fingers working apart the buttons on his shirt to reveal the smooth skin of his chest, groping my hands against his defined pectoral muscles.
“Yeah, baby?” he said, reaching up to taste my lips. “You want me to fuck you on the table?”
“Please,” I whimpered, holding onto his biceps to feel his impossible strength while he practically manhandled me into place, looming over my trembling body while his eyes made a luxury trip of exploring my exposed skin. I wrapped my legs around his waist to encourage him closer, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock...
“Did you hear that?”
I froze under him, detecting resistance from Changbin whose eyes were now devoid of lust as he lifted his head in concentration. It was then that I heard it, an alarmingly loud whine from Jane in the guest bedroom which was suddenly way too close to ignore. 
Changbin immediately stopped everything he was doing. “Please tell me you can hear it too?”
“Hear what?” I asked nervously, attempting to draw his attention back to me and it might have worked had Jane not decided to let out a series of playful barks and I suddenly regretted leaving her alone with a new toy.
“It’s something,” Changbin said, tone much darker as he ordered me to unwrap my legs from their vicelike grip around his waist. I obeyed hesitantly because my plan was falling apart at the seams and I had a bad feeling about what might happen next. 
Slowly, I followed him as he marched to the guest bedroom, opening the door like a man on a mission. And I doubt I’ll ever forget the way Jane immediately darted from the bathroom, sniffing Changbin’s shoes before waddling in my direction, plastic bone hanging from her mouth. “Y/N,” Changbin said, watching me as I picked up Jane off the floor. “Do you mind explaining to me why there’s a dog in the guest room?”
“It’s nothing bad,” I said, holding even tighter to Jane. “I may have adopted her-”
“What!” Changbin cut me off with a sharp interrogative. “How long has it been living here?”
“She,” I corrected him, “has been living here for a week or so...”
“A week!” Changbin exclaimed. “You’ve kept a dog hidden in here for a week?”
“Well, I didn’t plan on hiding her forever,” I said, fingers moving nervously through Jane’s soft fur.
“Get rid of it,” Changbin barked, looking every bit the intimidating CEO whose annual salary easily eclipsed my entire family net worth.
“Changbin,” I said softly. “Please don’t say that.”
“This is my house,” Changbin growled. “And I will not have it trashed by that thing.”
“I thought it was my house too?” I asked with narrowed eyes.
Changbin seemed taken aback, but he was not deterred for long. “Of course it is, but you know I don’t want any animals living here.”
“But she’s really clean,” I said. “And I’m training her every day!”
“I don’t care,” Changbin snapped. “I want to see it gone tomorrow morning, do you understand?”
“Changbin,” I whimpered, eyes clouding with the promise of tears. “You said you’d give me whatever I want.”
I know it sounds selfish, but I was growing increasingly desperate as it became more and more apparent that Changbin had already made up his mind. “I meant something like clothes, Y/N,” Changbin said. “Not a living pest.”
“She’s not a pest,” I insisted. “Jane is really sweet.”
“Oh great, you’ve named it,” Changbin grumbled, reaching for his cellphone.
“Who are you calling?”
“Animal control,” Changbin muttered and I immediately reacted.
“Don’t call them!” I exclaimed. “At least give her a better home than that horrible place.”
“Then find her one,” Changbin said. “You get one week before I handle it myself.”
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“What an asshole,” I snarled. 
“I agree,” Rina nodded, offering Jane a few treats when my puppy clambered onto the sofa next to us. In spite of Changbin’s dismissal, I found a refugee for both myself and Jane in Rina’s shared apartment with Felix. “I don’t see what the big deal is anyway. Changbin can’t possibly be that averse to something so cute.”
“It’s not like I brought home a child,” I said, frowning at my phone screen when Changbin sent yet another text message. “I hope he knows I’m not coming home tonight. If he kicks Jane out, then I’m leaving too.”
“You can keep me company instead,” Rina said. “Felix never comes around anymore so it’s just like college again.”
“Except we have more than just ramen in the kitchen.”
“Not to mention this sweetie,” Rina added, lifting Jane into her arms. “Who needs a man around anyway?”
“At least your man is okay with Jane living here for a few days,” I said. “I guess I’ll have to ask Seungmin to take her back.”
“You shouldn’t have to, Y/N,” Rina sighed. “It’s unfortunate that Changbin hates the puppies. I’d even keep Jane for myself but I think she’d be much happier with someone who isn’t prone to forgetting to even feed herself.”
I snorted. “That would be better than the pound. Can you believe he tried to call animal control?”
“Seo Changbin?” Rina snickered. “Nothing he does surprises me. This is the same person who rented out an entire restaurant just to propose to you.”
“Don’t bring up our happy memories,” I complained. “I’m supposed to be mad at him right now.”
“Then be mad at him,” Rina shrugged. “Honestly speaking, if he can’t see how important this is to you, then he doesn’t deserve to call you his wife in the first place.”
“This isn’t a deal-breaker,” I said. “I just wish he would understand how I feel.”
“Analytical types like Changbin are incapable of empathy,” Rina said. “It’s a proven fact, Y/N. He’ll still think he’s right when the two of you are retired somewhere in a tropical paradise.”
“Ugh, he’s so stubborn.”
“Takes after his mother in that regard,” Rina said. “Remember at your wedding? She bawled her eyes out after giving that horrible speech where she basically implied that you were stealing away her only son.”
“She’s the mistress of Evil,” I nodded. “They share that characteristic. Both of them can be downright mean when they want to be.”
“I guess that’s why Changbin has been so successful,” Rina said. “Still doesn’t take away from the fact that he sometimes seems to forget you're his wife and not a stockholder.”
I let out a deep breath. “What about you and Felix?”
“Oh, he’s still distant and I’m half-way convinced that I’m being replaced by a supermodel with bigger tits.”
“I don’t think Felix would be that shallow.”
“I know,” Rina said, palming her breasts through her shirt. “They’re pretty big, right?”
“He doesn’t care about that,” I said. “And if I wasn’t so pissed at Changbin, I might ask him about this mystery girl.”
“We’ll have to go through the middle man,” she said, offering me a knowing look.
“Hwang Hyunjin,” we both agreed in perfect synchronization.
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Luring Hyunjin out of the office building was as easy as promising a free lunch at his favorite restaurant. And when Hyunjin discovered that he would be meeting with both myself and Rina, he immediately jumped at the opportunity. Because Hwang Hyunjin was one of the most overdramatic people I knew and he never missed an opportunity to ensconce himself in everyone else's problems. “You know, Y/N,” he said through a sip of wine. “It would be nice if you at least pretended to like Changbin. He’s always intolerable at the office whenever the two of you fight.”
“I can’t even pretend to like him right now,” I said. “And, if you feel so inclined, you can pass on the message to him that I won’t be coming home tonight.”
“Oh, I can’t do that,” Hyunjin said, but it was impossible to miss the spark of mischief in his eyes. “Should I?”
“You can kick Changbin’s ass for all we care,” Rina said, already working through her third glass of chardonnay. 
“But, of course, that’s not the reason we invited you here,” I said, earning me a curious look in return.
“It’s about Felix,” Rina said through gritted teeth. “And don’t bother trying to cover for him, Hyunjin, because you’re a terrible liar.”
“What did he do wrong this time?” Hyunjin scoffed, seemingly indifferent as he took a bite of his organic salad.
“That blonde he keeps meeting in the office,” Rina said, always ready to get straight to the matter at hand. “Who the hell is she?”
Hyunjin visibly blanched, choking on his current mouthful while desperately trying to wash down the rest of his glass. “What?”
“The. Blonde,” Rina repeated. “I know everything, so don’t try to hide the truth from me.”
“If you knew everything, you wouldn’t be asking me,” Hyunjin pointed out.
“Just tell me who she is!” Rina exclaimed, loud enough to attract the attention of several tables.
Hyunjin wilted under their accusatory stares. “I can’t tell you.”
“Hwang Hyunjin,” Rina started, hands clasping the edge of the table. “Don’t you dare try to cover up your friend’s extracurricular affairs.”
“Felix isn’t cheating on you,” Hyunjin snapped. “I can’t believe you would even think that.”
“It’s not hard to,” Rina defended herself, “when everyone is walking on eggshells around me. I feel like I’m in the middle of something but I’m not even allowed to know what it is!”
“Rina,” Hyunjin tried again, tone visibly calmer. “Trust me on this. Felix isn’t cheating on you and everything will start to make a lot of sense.”
I studied my friend, but she seemed completely unmoved, expression fierce as she glared down at her untouched plate of food.
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My mother’s house was located almost an hour away from where Changbin and I lived in the city. My visits were less frequent because of the combination of distance and my inability to leave work early because Jisung couldn’t handle the office without me. But, since I needed someone to take care of Jane, I knew my mother might be the best solution. She also didn’t hesitate when I asked to spend the night away from Changbin. However, my mother was prone to exceeding selfishness when it came to spending time with me.
In any case, it was the last time I would be able to get away with my nightly escapades because Rina had brought me an invitation that morning to join herself, Felix, and several of their friends for a getaway at the beach. I reluctantly agreed to come since Felix insisted that it was important and Rina demanded she has her “partner in crime” next to her side all weekend. But I would be expected to share a room with Changbin which meant we would either argue even more or ignore each other awkwardly at every available opportunity.
The last time Changbin and I went anywhere with Felix and Rina was back when Changbin first started the company. We ended up stuck inside our hotel because it rained endlessly for the entire week we visited the Florida Keys. On the plus side, I did manage to watch a lot of good movies at the theatre, including a horror classic that was made even better when Changbin decided to stick his hand up my skirt. I’m pretty sure the couple next to us knew exactly what we were doing, and it was worth it to watch their expressions when I accidentally moaned during an intense scene involving a ghost and a clueless teenager.
Nevertheless, I usually loved going on trips with Changbin because he always planned the best surprises. Too bad he had already ruined this one because of his, for lack of a better term, “assholish” tendencies. And poor Jane shouldn’t have to suffer along with everyone else just because my husband hated cute animals.
“Y/N,” my mother grinned brightly, encouraging me inside while I carried Jane in my arms. “Isn’t she adorable!”
“At least some people think so,” I grumbled, putting Jane on the floor so that she could make herself comfortable.
“I can’t believe Changbin told you to get rid of her.”
“Really?” I huffed, leaning against the wall. “You were the one that warned me he would be, and I quote, a pompous ass.”
“Well,” my mother grimaced, “I thought he might prove me wrong.”
“And I’ll be stuck in the same room with him all weekend,” I groaned. “Felix and Rina owe me big time.”
“Or,” my mother allowed, “maybe you should thank them. The trip is a good opportunity to put this argument to rest.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side!”
“Honestly, Y/N, I know he was harsh, but you’re the one who went and got a dog behind his back. Plus, Jane can just stay here with me. It gives you a good excuse to visit more often.”
“You’re only saying that because you got a cute new puppy,” I muttered.
“Sweetheart,” my mother cooed, carefully guiding me to the counter. “I’ll always have your back, and I’d like to believe that I’m still the only person who can take care of you, but I think Changbin stole that title a long time ago.”
“He’s just infuriating sometimes,” I said.
My mother laughed. “All men are, Y/N, and you know you’ll have fights with Changbin. That’s what married couples do. The important thing is that the two of you can always come back together and forgive, even if the matter at hand is this cute.”
I grinned when my mother reached down to collect Jane into her arms. “I still don’t get how someone can hate a puppy.”
“Perhaps not hate,” my mother said. “But you should respect his opinion, even if you don’t agree with it.”
“He never asks me for anything,” I sighed. “I guess I made this into a bigger deal than it needed to be.”
“Trust me, sweetheart, you definitely get that from me,” my mother said. “Now, about you spending the night...”
“Yeah, I get it,” I grumbled. “I should go back home.”
“It’s not exactly mature of you to run away from him,” my mother pointed out as if I didn’t already feel guilty enough. “And it only makes it that much harder to fix things when you keep avoiding them.”
“Fine, I’ll go home,” I said, pulling out my phone to send Changbin a brief message. “You’re all wise and old now.”
My mother frowned. “Sweetheart, I don’t consider myself old.”
“Mom, the last time we went shopping, you had me come pick you up at the mall entrance because you didn’t feel like walking to the car.”
“Well, everyone has those days,” my mother said. “In any case, I should find somewhere for Jane to stay. Her mom is certainly welcome to come over any time.”
“Pretty sure her mom is Seungmin, but I appreciate the thought,” I said, lifting Jane from the ground to bring her closer. “You won’t forget about me, right?”
Jane considered with wide eyes before cautiously offering me a small lick on the cheek. “Yeah, I think we can make this work.”
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Changbin’s car was already parked in his usual spot when I pulled into the complex. I was hoping he would stay at the office longer, but he probably left the moment he received my message. Straightening the hem of my skirt, I carefully entered the apartment, inwardly groaning when I could hear the sounds of the TV from the living room. I was still quiet when I shuffled across the carpet, but apparently, Changbin had been waiting on me. “Babe,” he murmured quietly as I passed by the couch.
Whispering a curse, I turned around to look at Changbin whose eyes were struggling to open as if he had been asleep when I came home. “Sorry,” I said in return, forcing my eyes to look away from his exposed chest, firm edges made softer under the light from the LED screen.
I made my way to our bedroom, deciding to pack as efficiently as possible because I was starting to get a headache which meant I wanted nothing more than to pass out on the bed. “Y/N,” Changbin spoke up softly, lingering by the door as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “How was your mother?”
“Fine,” I answered shortly, moving around our bedroom as quickly as possible because I was determined to avoid any sort of conversation with Changbin, cramming my t-shirts into the stupid designer suitcase he had bought for me. 
“Are you tired?” he asked, looking irresistible with his messy hair and puffy cheeks.
“Yeah,” I said, carefully zipping my suitcase closed. I brought it next to his at the side of our dresser.
Changbin took a few more steps into the room, pausing next to the bed while I changed clothes quickly. “Is it alright if I sleep with you tonight?”
I really wanted to tell him, no, but it was rather difficult to refuse him when he was being sweet. At least he obviously understood that he was wrong for screaming at me like I was one of his assistants instead of his wife. “You can,” I told him, already pulling back the sheets of the comforter.
And I didn’t even resist when he climbed in behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist because he liked to keep me close in bed. “Y/N,” he whispered in my ear, fingers curling with mine. “You can keep the dog when we get back.”
“Binnie,” I murmured, attempting to protest because I wasn’t expecting Changbin to give in so easily. He really does give me whatever I want.
“It’s alright,” Changbin said, tenderly squeezing my waist, breath warm against the back of my neck. “We can talk about it later.” The combination of his familiar presence and the lovely feel of his fingers pulling through my hair was enough to lure me into a much-needed sleep.
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Early morning flights were a pain in the ass and I was no exception to the demonizing effects of insomnia, especially when I felt guilty because Changbin had agreed to let me keep Jane only after I avoided him for several days. We didn’t talk about it on the drive to the airport. In fact, we didn’t talk much at all as Changbin turned up the volume on the radio while he drove with tired eyes. It had probably been difficult for him to take the whole weekend off for Felix’s getaway trip, and I hadn’t bothered to ask him how he was feeling.
Felix and Rina were waiting for us at the security line when we arrived with a few minutes to spare. Apparently, Hyunjin and Chan were already at the loading gate since they had arrived much earlier than everyone else. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone out of town together,” Rina remarked as she pulled me away from Changbin, leaving him to talk quietly with Felix.
“Excluding the first beach disaster?”
“Definitely,” Rina agreed, tossing an arm around my shoulders. “I convinced Felix to switch tickets with you. Now, my best friend can sit next to me instead.”
I nodded in reply since I had actually been looking forward to an opportunity to talk with Changbin on the airplane. It was probably best for both of us if we talked about what happened. Because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was a rather stupid argument that definitely could have been avoided if I had been less inconsiderate of Changbin’s feelings. They might seem irrational, but they mattered and that’s all I could think about for the entirety of our flight to the island.
And if I thought I’d get a chance to talk to him when we landed, I was proven wrong. Because Felix enforced a tight schedule, barely allowing any of us to get settled in at the resort before he was already ordering us to change into something comfortable for the beach. The hotel itself was situated right on the shoreline, busy with fellow travelers looking to enjoy what was already becoming a gorgeous afternoon. And since Changbin happened to own the place, we were treated to the best care with a constant presence of wait staff who brought us drinks and food. “You get five stars, Changbin,” Rina remarked as she sat between Felix’s legs on his beach chair. “I see why everybody makes a big deal out of your expensive hotels now.”
“You’re welcome,” Changbin grumbled from where the two of us were situated on a comfortable beach towel. Changbin had long since dismissed his t-shirt, tentatively requesting that I apply a generous amount of sunscreen to his skin. And no matter how I felt towards Changbin, I would never turn down the opportunity to run my hands against the gorgeous muscles that supplied his well-built torso.
In the meantime, Hyunjin and Chan were arguing about whether or not the hotel in New York needed the same kind of luxury swimming pool that the six of us had spotted on our way outside. “If I knew they would be this loud, I would have left them behind,” Felix said, sunglasses resting on the brim of his nose.
“It’s Hyunjin, what did you expect?” Rina said, watching the two older boys bicker. 
I nodded vacantly, growing tried from the influence of the sun. “What’s this surprise all about, Felix?” Rina asked her boyfriend, eyebrow raised in question.
Changbin jumped from his spot in front of me and I was startled when I realized I had massaged over his nipples. “You’ll see,” Felix said, a proud smirk making him look just as mischievous as he had been when we first met.
I couldn’t see Rina’s reaction since her glasses obscured most of her face. “Are you really going to keep me waiting?”
“Just until tonight, love,” Felix said, reassuring her with a gentle kiss that had my heart aching in my chest for Changbin despite him being in such close proximity. 
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I spent most of the early evening with Rina, wasting time shopping as we waited for our dinner reservations. “What do you think?” Rina asked, holding up a sundress that barely fell below her thighs.
“No,” I said, returning my attention to the magazine in front of me.
“Changbin has made you way too conservative,” she griped before disappearing back into the changing room. “But you seemed more relaxed around him today.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I think I owe him an apology.”
“What for?” Rina asked. “He’s the one who almost sent for animal control to handle an innocent puppy.”
“I never should have tried to hide Jane in the first place,” I said. “Changbin doesn’t ask for much and I should have respected his preference.”
“Wow, since when have you grown up?” Rina asked, re-emerging from the dressing room. “That’s awfully mature of you.”
“I love him,” I nodded. “And that means more to me than anything else in the world.”
“Including me?” Rina feigned hurt while dramatically falling against a nearby display of sneakers.
I rolled my eyes, checking the time on my phone. “We should probably meet the others.”
“Alright,” Rina grumbled. “But I’m afraid of what Felix might say at dinner.”
“What makes you think it’s a bad thing?” I asked.
“Where have you been, Y/N? Don’t you remember all the drama? Felix avoiding me? Coming home late? Does any of this ring a bell?”
“I thought you moved on from that.”
“Never,” Rina insisted while curling her arm through mine. “I’m still on high alert.”
“You know how Felix can get sometimes,” I said.
“Of course I do! But he’s never acted like this before,” Rina insisted. 
“Well, maybe you’ll get your answers tonight,” I said, leading her into the crowded seafood restaurant on the lower level of the hotel. 
It must have bee massively popular because guests were patiently waiting in large parties scrambled throughout the main lobby. Rina and I fought our way to the hostess, allowing her to check our reservation before graciously leading us further away from the rampant group of hungry customers who were all attempting to talk over one another. Instead, the hostess brought us to a private room, clearly the work of Seo Changbin, where the others were already seated.
“Finally!” Hyunjin exclaimed. “Felix wouldn’t let us order until you got here.”
Felix ignored his friend, pulling out a chair for Rina. I could tell he was visibly nervous which was certainly concerning because Felix was one of the most confident people I knew. He was the friend in Changbin’s board meetings who was never shy about speaking up. The one person you could always rely on to sweet talk an additional 5% off our coffee bill in the main lobby because he only had to smile at the poor cashier working the register.
I glanced over at Changbin who was busy scanning the menu in front of him. Changbin didn’t seem worried at all which was reassuring, although it definitely didn’t mean that Felix necessarily told Changbin what he was planning for tonight. And the longer I studied the younger boy fidgeting in his seat, the more curious I became. 
“You know, Chan,” Hyunjin said. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring that girl with you. Aren’t the two of you moving in together?”
I perked up at this new information. “Chan has a serious girlfriend?”
Chan and I had known each other for several years, but I was starting to conclude that the older man was planning to stay single for the rest of his life. Not that Chan didn’t make an elegant bachelor because the combination of his appealing good-looks, charming accent, and accumulating wealth was enough to cement his status. But then again, it might be nice to see Chan in a committed relationship because he would make the best father.
“It’s not that serious,” Chan said bashfully, ears tipped in red as he glanced around for the waitress.
“Whatever,” Hyunjin huffed, glancing between Felix and Rina with a barely concealed smirk. “You guys look great together.”
Felix glared at his friend. “You’re determined to spoil everything, aren’t you?”
“What does that mean?” Rina inquired, studying Felix curiously.
“Nothing,” Hyunjin said, immediately turning to me and Changbin. “Are the two of you still fighting?”
“Hyunjin,” I growled his name, determined once and for all that Hyunjin was intentionally trying to stir up more drama for his viewing pleasure.
“We’re alright,” Changbin said in a surprisingly gentle voice, one arm coming to rest across the back of my chair. “Here,” Changbin said, pulling my plate closer so that he could cut a few pieces of steak for me. “Your favorite.”
I blushed at his kindness, stuffing my mouth full of tender meant to avoid having to say anything in return. Thankfully, Felix was more than ready to interrupt our moment, abruptly standing up from his chair with a glass of wine in hand. “Everyone,” he said, immediately silencing our small party. “I have something to announce.”
I glanced over at Rina from the corner of my eyes, watching as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. A nervous habit she picked up from countless nights of writing 10,000-word essays for our history seminar. “Rina,” Felix said, addressing my friend. “We’ve been together for a while.”
Rina nodded, seemingly frozen in place. At least until Felix dropped down onto one knee next to her, pulling out a beautiful gold-encrusted wedding band with diamonds circling the outside. “Marry me.” 
My expression of shock likely mirrored Rina’s while Hyunjin clapped like a maniac from across the table. “Thank god! The secret is finally out!”
“Felix,” Rina finally managed, eyes growing cloudy with the promise of tears while she held out a shaky hand. Felix gently accepted her outstretched limb, sliding the ring into place on her finger. 
“I’ll consider that a yes.”
I immediately turned to Changbin who was watching the two of them with fond eyes. It was quite obvious that he also knew about the proposal and I admired my husband’s ability to help his friend make this weekend so special. Changbin met my gaze with a beautiful smile, reaching underneath the table to take my hand without hesitation.
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It was late when the six of us finally left the restaurant, listening to Rina gush over her new ring while clinging to Felix’s side persistently. Changbin and I lingered at the back, shoulders brushing with every step while keeping our pinky fingers interlocked between us. “That woman!” Rina suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a familiar blonde standing behind the concierge counter.
“She’s the hotel’s general manager,” Felix explained, sending a wave in her direction.
“Oh,” Rina said dumbly and my friend was very rarely caught off-guard. I definitely couldn’t wait to offer her a well-deserved “I told you so” when we met for breakfast in the morning. However, for the time being, I wanted nothing more than to go back to the room with Changbin.
“I can’t thank her enough,” Felix continued. “She’s been very helpful when it came to planning all of this.”
“Really?”
“She deserves a raise, Changbin,” Felix said, nudging his friend as the six of us broke off into smaller groups as we returned to our assigned rooms.
“Congratulations, Rina,” I said to my friend, watching her join Felix in the suite across from ours.
I waited until we were truly alone before I closed the door quietly, turning around to find Changbin fiddling with the lock on his Rolex. “Let me,” I said quietly, gliding across the floor to handle the delicate switch with nimble fingers.
“Thanks,” Changbin said, dropping the watch on top of the nightstand.
“Changbin,” I spoke up hesitantly. “I’m sorry for ignoring you.”
My husband shrugged, broad shoulders tense against the fit of his shirt. “It’s alright, Y/N.”
“No, it’s not,” I said, reaching out for his wrist to turn him around. “You didn’t deserve that, especially over something that was my fault to begin with.”
Changbin sighed, tugging me closer against him. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
I pressed my forehead against the center of his chest. “You never ask me for much. In fact, you’re always the one who gives the most in our relationship. I should have respected your opinion. Instead, I went behind your back and I’ve felt guilty about it for the entire trip.”
“There’s no need for that,” Changbin insisted, fingers curling through my hair. “We’ve both made mistakes, but I can never stay mad at you for long.”
“I’ll let my mom have the dog,” I said, pressing my fingers against his plush lips before he could interrupt. “I’m serious. She’s much happier with Jane. Maybe, later on, we could try something smaller? Like a hamster!”
Changbin grimaced at the thought and I laughed at his expression. “Unless you just want me all to yourself.”
“That’s not it,” Changbin sighed. “I just don’t want that responsibility. Plus, I really don’t like the idea of a dog or cat in the apartment.”
“Well, I can always visit my mom when I want to see Jane,” I said, reaching up to fix the messy strands of his hair. “See? A compromise.”
Changbin smirked, leaning down for a kiss. “You make a better negotiator than I do. Maybe you should be in charge of the board.”
“I’ll let you handle things,” I said, running my hands along his stomach to the waistband of his jeans.
“I meant it when I said I would do anything to make you happy,” Changbin whispered against my hair. “Even if that means I have to fill the apartment with dogs.”
I grinned. “I like what we have now, Changbin.”
“That’s so cheesy,” he accused me, laughing when I whined in response. “I love you, Y/N,” he said.
“I love you too,” I said. “You’re basically just a giant puppy anyway.”
Changbin grunted as his hands gripped the back of my thighs. “Please don’t say that when I’ve already started making plans to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”
I shivered at his seductive promise. “Oh yeah? I guess you’ll just have to prove it to me.”
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x-exo · 3 years
Note
*slides into your asks with a rose in my mouth* why hello, tis me!
Apologies for the long wait but your favorite long asks anon is here and OOF so much has happened. Let us break it down one by one lol
Monsta x our beans, welp we can officially say we are army wives for them because shownu is now at the military and just welp this feels weird lol. I lowkey forgot he was meant to enlist so when the news came out I went through so many emotions. Its why the latest comeback feels a bit bittersweet to me. It is their BEST for sure and for this year, I agree so to not see him perform right before he left is a bit sad. I don't blame him of course (if anyone does i am fish slapping you) but just a shame. I'm happy we do get content with him still? Seems pre-planned so that is nice!
Onto legends exo, fantastic comeback. I cannot stop listening to the album, its just bops full of bops to me. They broke so many records and I'm over here sipping my tea because fudge yes. It isn't a full member comeback, 2 of the members featured in the comeback are off playing call of duty and they still did THAT. While having lay properly in the comeback!? (Or at least some form, better than tempo era!) Kyungsoo my beloved, the man that can swoon you off your feet, his proper solo album. Omg I am just in love? The album feels like a Playlist that you hear while taking a walk or on a raodtrip? I love it, I just love everything about this with how much thought was given. It makes me feel warm and I'm so proud of him (I think he even got a first win) but sadly xiumin got the it shall not be named virus D: I feel so bad and I can only hope he gets better! It makes me worried because I keep seeing more and more idols getting sick and I can't help but wonder why don't the kpop entertainment just put a pause with stuff? Of course that is VERY unrealistic, I am aware that is naive for me to think but its just so idk how to word it properly (my English brain is not working I am sorry) I cannot help the feeling of while I get people are being safe and yes we need to still live like normal beings, is it worth risking idols health just for some entertainment? Idk how to explain my thoughts properly but maybe I hope I made sense!!
Onto svt! That is perfectly fine to not vibe with a comeback! I will admit, I didn't fully vibe with this comeback and it shocked me because every comeback was a hit to me. Even fear, left and right or homerun where I know many fans were split on, I liked but RTL was a grower. For me, listening to it without watching the mv, helped it alot and it is a song I like. Is it their best? No I don't think so but it is alright to say "hey I didn't bop to this, not my cup of tea" (imo I blame the mv? The mv REALLY didn't do the song justice at all, I am sorry if I sound like a fake fan but this mv Just is bad in all aspects. Sure we have some pretty shots but like it just doesn't fit at all?) So if anything listening to the song or wishing the live performances does it better. Seeing the choreography amps the song up more, cannot go wrong with their dancing. As for the rest of the songs, I admit game boy is my top favorite? Idk if it is because I am a gaming nerd and found all the production of the song so creative but yeah. We can wait for the next comeback! Svt always have something up their sleeves, plus we do have their music projects to look forward too (I wonder when we will get one? Seeing as RTL promotions stopped) some positive news with the boys is they resigned like a year before their contract ends and I'm a bit emotional :') I'm excited to see the boys future projects. We did have caratland recently! Did you watch it if I may ask? We did get in the soop confirmation so I'm excited to watch that, the boys deserve that nice break (even if it was filmed for a show fjsbsns)
Ok I think that is it for kpop updates? XD I do hope life has been treating you kindly! Life has been a bit all over the place sadly so I hope it wasn't like that for you as well! Until next time my bean!
hii!!!! omg sorry for the late reply i've been pretty busy these days 🙈
indeed so much has happened! and much more since you sent this ask omg!!
our shownu is at war *looks into the distance* *wipes away tear* *sighs* by now I got used to enlistment news (see what happens when you stan 2nd and 3rd gen groups) but STILL [[IT HURT]] when they uploaded the monchannel videos of his goodbye day like ????? what kind of twisted mind diuhdfuihdifuhs but the boys were all so cute and soft but they seemed so sad they didn't want to let go of their super leader :(( I hope he's learning lots and making new friends (and also we've got our international super spy yoo kihyun giving us small updates on him every now and then so everything's fine!). Yeah I totally get you it felt empty without him this comeback and at first it didn't really clicked with me but when the enlistment news came out i understood he had to take care of his health and thoroughly check on his eye sight in order to be 100% ready for the military so it made sense he had to be absent :( everything was so close (the comeback and enlistment) that I'm sure there was no other way for doing it I'm pretty sure he couldn't maybe postpone the enlistment day any further
onto exo! my ksoo my soft boi my romantic boi 🥺 his album is so him SO HIM i can't explain it bur it's just HIM you know it's the type of album you'd play on loop on a summer afternoon when you've taken your papers and paints outside in the garden to paint a bit with the warm soft breeze moving the trees lightly 🤧 and he signs in English and SPANISH (he did it for me) my multilingual king he's a native. Also I've been watching Honeymoon Tavern with Jongin these days and OMG i could d word for him really (if you haven's watched it go do it when you have time) he's SO SOFT and SO CUTE and he works as a waiter and a wedding planner and helps with the room preparations and is also a tour guide and he's just so cute so happy al the time the way he interacts with everyone is so 🥺🤧😭 onto more serious stuff now: yeah i was so worried about minseok catching covid omg but i'm glad he went through it with our any major complication and the rest of the boys are safe too! I guess the industry doesn't stop bc that would mean a huge loss of thousands and thousands of dollars/won/etc so as long as the gov doesn't prohibit going out or gathering like at the beginning of the pandemic, they'll keep on going with the idols' schedules otherwise the industry would just shut down having no way of earning money to sustain all the companies and idols.
as for seventeen! yeah i like the songs too! the mv sure ruined rtl and listening to it without watching it has really helped it grow on me more but still it feels kind of meh to me idk i really like anyone i think it's my favourite from the album. AND NOW WE'VE GOT A COMEBACK IN OCTOBER!!!! yayyyyy i can't wait they seem to be preparing very diligently (i hope they release a sexy bop) it's a shame junhao aren't gonna be present for this comeback but i'm soooooo happy they have the opportunity to visit their families again omg they have spent 2 whole years without seeing them in the flesh they must be so happy to get back to them again!!! it's so funny seeing them be bored at the quarantine hotel and doing lives every day duhdfiudhfiuh i hope it passes quickly and they can see their loved ones finally! and I did watch Caratland!! omg the unit switch song was the best thing ever hhu doing lilili yabbay and not being able to stop laughing idfuhdifuhs perf team doing chocolate and owning it????? hello??? performance team more like main vocal team wow! and the vocal team being a complete mess during check in lmaooo i loved it! In The Soop has finally started!!! I love these kind of "normal life" concepts I love seeing the boys being themselves cooking and relaxing I've watched the first and second eps as of today and also few clips from the third and omg mingyu and jeonghan drowning in the pond dfuhidfhidfs lmao they're so dumb i love them 🤣 i'm glad they could go away for a few days and spend time together away from their hectic schedules!
I hope you're well now and if not hang in there it'll all pass soon enough! 🥰💕 bye bye!!
p.s.: I got your request for the svt this or that gifset and i promise i’ll do it one day i just don’t feel like giffing these days dhbduusi i’m out of energy 
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whirlybirbs · 4 years
Note
all I can think abt is how cozy obi looks in that one gifset in his robes in rots & now I’m thinking about sith!obi just looking like a cute lil thing in his huge dramatic sith robes.,
a/n: this spurred the next installment in “fortem is tiptoeing around his feelings while the senator leaps around them”, read the whole work on ao3!
He wakes to sound of something sizzling in a pan on the oven, the smell wafting over to his perch among the cushions on your sofa. 
The Sith inhales long and slow, pulling his eyes open as he shifts in the small nest he’d burrowed himself into throughout the night -- the two blankets you’d provided, plush and soft, are around his legs and his robe is balled up beneath his head, making him look like he’s drowning in a river of bedding. He can feel a crick in his neck from the odd angle he’d dozed off in, having been guarding the apartment with more seriousness than he’d originally anticipated. 
He couldn’t help it, though, after you’d ambled from your room at an odd hour with anxiety painted over your usually stoic features. It was... out of character for you. Though, the Sith couldn’t blame you. There’d been an attempt on your life earlier that night. Sleep, for many, wouldn’t come easy after a threat to that degree. Even for an icy, powerful, young Senator who has a Sith Lord wrapped around her very thumb. 
Fortem exhales. He pulls himself upright and blinks blearily over the back of the couch at the morning sun streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows. 
When in the seven hells did she pull the shades up? Had he really slept through that?
The morning traffic has already begun, the sound of the air-lanes humming by. It dances on the plush, maroon carpet. The light is soft, warm and sweet -- the exact opposite of how Fortem looks right about now. 
He has to fight the temptation to fall back into the cushions. 
Fortem’s hair is strewn about, with his auburn cowlick pointing straight up, yet simultaneously in every direction possible. His black under-tunic is the only thing around his shoulders. After all, he’d hucked his top robes off his body in a flash of heat in the middle of the night. Your apartment had been freezing one minute, then unbearably hot the next. He was trying to get comfortable. 
Fortem scratches his beard as he swings his legs off the couch. Woolen socks meet the carpet and he cracks his neck, rubs his face, all before being greeted with a soft laugh from your direction.
You’re slipping a prevva egg omelette onto a plate for him as you speak, gaze lingering on the sleepy Sith from your spot at the kitchen’s island.
“I was worried you’d gone and died in your sleep, Darth Fortem.”
Fortem groans and stands, moving to snatch his tunic and tug it over his head. As he does, you spy the hem of his long-sleeve lift, showing a trail of hair up his abdomen that matches that of his beard along with dark Dathomirian tattoos -- you pretend having not caught the sight, lowering your eyes as you fix yourself a plate for breakfast while he clears his throat and moves to fix the mess he’d made of the couch in his sleep.
And his hair. Gods, his hair is a mess. Atrocious. He fusses it down.
His is hoarse with sleep when he finally speaks. “I might as well have. How long have you been up, then?”
“Not long,” you tut, switching off the oven and gathering the two plates. You move gracefully across the apartment, dropping the plates at their spots on the dining table outlooking the air-lanes of Coruscant’s morning traffic. It’s practiced, and Fortem wonders if you’ve made breakfast for many overnight guests before.
He steps from the sofa, moving towards the table that you’ve settled at -- you sit unlike he’s seen before. One leg pulled to your chest, arms leaned around to dig at the omelette on the delicate china plate. Your fork and knife tinker softly against the setting as you drop a bite into your mouth and chew.
You look softer -- less... dangerous. Fortem wonders if it’s the warm light of the morning, or the domesticity radiating from your actions. He settles down at the table without a word, golden eyes glued to you the entire time he moves.
You shift in your seat as Fortem chews, happily realizing you are a good cook; he spares you a sheepish look as he digs in for another bite. 
“Hungry?” you ask softly after swallowing your mouthful, a polished example of etiquette even in the informal setting of a hit-man and his employer eating breakfast together, “There’s another carton in the fridge --”
“You didn’t need to feed me.”
“I don’t have guests often,” you shrug, “It’s rare I cook for someone aside from myself -- and you did pluck me from a free-fall last night. This is the least I could do for saving my life.”
You gather your napkin from your lap, placing your fork and knife down as you stand -- Fortem continues his endeavor on finishing his plate, stealing a side-ways glance as you move across the apartment. You snatch something from the counter, then sit back down. 
You’re still in your robe from the night before, hair relaxed and face bare -- he spies a glimmer of gold along your neckline and tries his best not to stare at your décolletage as you slide a platinum card his way. 
Manicured nails recoil as his face warps in confusion.
“Your payment.”
His mouth is full. He chews quickly, eyeing you and the card and you again, before snagging the credit crypto-card with a measured level of scrutiny. 
He’s only seen these a handful of times before -- but it makes sense. It’s an account, essentially, operating off your usual banking chain-code and heavily encrypted. Maul had once copped a collection of these little beauties; not even the best cryto-pirates in the guild had been able to slice the binds off the credit transfer system. 
Reliable, clean, secretive. 
Perfect payment for a man of Fortem’s caliber.
His brows are knotted. “I’ve not delivered my end of the --”
“The deal has changed,” you mutter, “I think it’s fair to say.”
His fork wavers in the air. Golden eyes blink at you. 
“I’d like to keep you around,” you say finally, digging around your omelette and pushing the egg about on your plate, “Until this is sorted and I find out who is trying to ensure I end up dead... For the price of triple our original agreement, if you agree.”
“Forget the price.”
You balk. 
He doesn’t even look up, just forks another mouthful and chews. Fortem’s jaw tightens as he does which gives you a better view of the tattoos along the column of his throat and neck. They’re jagged and puzzle-like, running like deep rivers across his skin. They disappear beneath his collar and the stubble of his beard. You wonder if they’re everywhere; his chest, of course, but his arms? Legs? Back?
You can see the edges of some peeking out from the hem of his under-tunic’s cuff, darting up his wrist. Typically, his hands are hidden beneath jet-black, leather gloves. But now, in the morning sun, you can see the callouses and scars alongs his knuckles from years of fighting.
His gaze meets yours. “I am serious, stop looking at me like that.”
“... Why?”
A shrug. He tosses his napkin onto his now empty plate and sits back. He crosses his arms and shrugs. Fortem speaks slowly, ignoring the annoyed wane of his heart and mindful logic as he does. 
“Wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me to take advantage of a kind Senator in need, would it?”
You narrow your eyes, albeit playfully. “And what of serving your best interest?”
Fortem shrugs. “You said it yourself; things have changed.”
His lips quirk and your face plays at something just as amused. Your lashes flutter, a scoff on your tongue, when suddenly, there’s a call at the door. 
A sharp knock, followed by the buzzer announcing loudly:
“-- Senator, Sir Praze from the Financial District is here for you.”
Your head whips up from the meal. 
Fortem makes a face.
Instantly, you’ve sprung up; your eyes are wider than ever, face contorting into an expression that fleets between worry and fear and anxiety all at the same time. Fortem screws his brow as you usher him up with hushed words and gentle hands.
“Get up,” you hiss, “Into the bedroom.”
“What?”
You move quickly across the room, hands pressing the buzzer as you speak cooly into it. “One moment. Send him up.”
Fortem is confused -- but suddenly realizes that you’re about to receive a guest... and can’t help but snort. You swat away any remarks he’s about to croon your way with your hand, opening the door to your bedroom and nearly shoving him in. 
“Stay here and,” you bite your tongue, “Just... be quiet, Fortem, please.”
He leans on the door frame. 
“So ashamed of me, dear?”
“Terribly,” you bite, smacking his arm away as you close the door, grumbling as you do, “Please! This... of course he’d show up --”
Fortem is then left with the sight of your door as you hurry away and slam it quickly in a haze. 
From the other side of the door, he hears you greet someone -- this Sir Praze character, he assumes -- rather stiffly before a moment of silence washes over the room and Fortem has to lean his ear to the door to get a good listen.
“My love, I’d been so worried.”
... Oh. How curious. 
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bucksbisexual · 4 years
Text
so....... i watched ep6 since apparently i like pain now and oh my fucking GOD
first of all, INKORN!!!!! FINALLY!!!!!!!
but also, INKORN TTTTTTT_TTTTTTT
TEARS PEOPLE. T EA R S
okay let me start from the beginning because what an episode yall
so . we start with a flashback and it was cute ! if only the last one was too HAHAHAHAHimcrying
team being like “hm...... manaow and del are really close lately......... Are They........” after i literally said it out loud was the biggest shared braincell moment i’ve ever had in my life and mind u i have a big sister who i’m very close with lmaO
(also, women are gay too pharm smh)
win being a little bitch with his I’m An Adult Bitch You Can’t Tell Me Shit to team god i love him sjfhksjf
DEAN HOLDING PHARM’S HAND AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
pharm just going into cardiac arrest after dean interlocks their fingers is the biggest mood ever
also manaow baby that’s- that’s not how you check if someone is sick JKSHFSJHS
“don’t forget to eat your lunch” “don’t forget to swallow it too” “beware of choking” THEY REALLY- FHSKGFSLJJFKS
yes i went back to the episode to write that i have no memory whatsoever
i was so scared when dean had his flashback while driving like i was praying to every god in existence for him to not crash,,,, the flashback was cute though
that tear though........ that shit Hurt
but korn saying “like” !!!!!!! half of my brain was like “HE!!!!! LIKES!!!!!! HIM!!!!!!!!” and the other half was just “omg like ram” lmao
pharm calling manaow beautiful ;; yes she is she’s the most beautiful girl ever i love her with my whole heart
that mf guy who doesn’t know the meaning of no can CHOKE (also i heard the actor’s problematic or sumn???? so fuck him too bYe)
thankfully pharm is That bitch and shut him up not once not twice but a shit ton of times in like,,,, less 2 minutes
that’s my mans man hell yeah
apparently everyone in dean’s faculty knows pharm?????? lmaoooooo but when those 2 (and later 3) tried to flirt with him i was like???????? get tf out?????????? out here abusing of pharm’s niceness smh
thankfully dean came to the rescue jsfhsk
bro when pharm picked a thread and it led to dean i was like....... oh my God they actually did that
the FORESHADOWING bro
also that kiss scene......................... perfect i loved it even though i hate their outfits so much but i can get over it if it gives us this amazing scene
dean just ;; being patient with pharm and asking if he’s okay and just asking him until he gives oral (is it vocal? girl idk) answers to the questions he makes just to be sure ;;
god why can’t men be like dean why do u have to be Assholes smh
AND THE RED THREAD!!!!! BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!
dean making pharm wear his jacket sjfhksj u couldn’t be more territorial bro literally (and apparently) everyone knows you’re into each other theres truly no need jfshkf
“if it doesn’t invade our privacy too much, i think it’s okay. also, i think it’s a good way to let that person know that he shouldn’t mess with someone who isn’t single”
first of all, DEAN U ABSOLUTE SWEETHEART
second of all, the shadeeeeeeeeee lmao yes bitch drag his ass
and last, SKJLFHGLJKHSLKHKSJG
thank u for listening to my tedtalk
i will repeat myself, why can’t all men be like dean
also, a bonus: i of course went to the episode to get the dialogue and i saw the name lemon lemon and i was like “wait..... is that manaow???” so i google translated her name and it does mean lemon omg thats SO cute i love her even more rn
okay i don’t know if it’s only me but the girls from the cooking club? the best girls ever me thinks
okay we’re approaching the last part of the episode yall i felt so many emotions in like 13 minutes
we start with the worst, a Flashback.
i literally saw the outfit and started crying. like. no joke.
the mother??? sister?????? aunt?????? being hella worried and in being like “it’s okay i’ll be back in like . 2 seconds”
THIS BTICH NEVER CAME BACK
the little girl please i’m legit going to cry again thinking about her and imagining her waiting for in to come back home and just.... not really understanding whats happening when her mother (im guessing here) starts sobbing when she picks up the phone
OH MY GODDDDDDDD
also according to like,,, timeline and shit inkorn were  from the 60s or 80s right???? which means she’s still alive if nothing has happened to her..................
HAHA so much fun in this blog! just joy laughter and happiness!
also it was in’s birthday.............. oh my goodness
okay moving on to something that hurts less! team being the dunk boy on the booth omg win this is not how u flirt
also i realised that the open house thing happens like... mid first semester so it hasn’t been that long since deanpharm know of each other/have been talking damn bro
win teasing pharm is like,, one of my favourite things lmao i might do a gifset of these moments when i finish the drama if i’m not too lazy
deanpharm holding hands in public tho ;;;;;;; ok bitch call me single and ugly a little less louder
win though SJFKHS *looks at team’s hand* team: no. go away
oh god oh god oh godddddddd here comes the thread talk
the moment team said suicide i stopped the episode because i thought Something would happen to pharm but oh GOD I WAS NOT EXPECTING WHAT HAPPENED
THE STARES!!!!!!!! THE REALISATION!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE “PROMISE” AT THE SAME TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHUT THE FUCKUGISFUIKGJHSLGWJ
i will literally never recover
also i paused that scene so much just to scream into my comfort stuffed toy and i’m so sorry for her
i also couldn’t help but think of how the others at the table were like because if that was me idk what i’d do
i might cry or be like “wow u guys are such great actors” but inside my head because i’m an introvert
but god that was,,,,,,, yeah
and when they of course showed The flashback scene and i saw in’s outfit i cried because he truly never went back home
okay i think that’s it i literally took almost an hour to write this because i tried following the episode while having a thousand thoughts in my head + make lots of typos lmao
i hope these aren’t too bothersome to u guys ;; i post these because i need to share my thoughts somewhere but if someone doesn’t want to see them u can mute the tags i use in these posts or something hhhhh
i might use an specific one for these tho because if i gotta make 17 of these at least let’s make them be organised some way,,,,,
alrighty that’s all byebyeeeee
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perlukafarinn · 5 years
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for @inacatastrophicmind who made this gorgeous gifset at my request <3
After the dust has settled, after Chuck has gone and yet another apocalypse has been averted, Cas tells Dean that he wants to be human again.
Why, Dean wants to ask but he keeps his mouth shut. Cas’ brief stint as a human sucked in most ways imaginable but so has his much, much longer stint as an angel. Maybe he needs the change. Maybe they both do.
He disappears for a little while and when he returns, it’s with a smirking Rowena in his front seat and a vial of grace in a delicate chain around his neck. He hands it to Dean, and Dean accepts it even though he knows he doesn’t deserve that kind of trust. He’ll have to do his best to earn it, even if it takes him the rest of his life.
He also accepts it when Cas kisses him, because that part is at least familiar.
*
What isn’t familiar is what comes after.
Peace. Stability. Basically all things synonymous with ‘domesticity’ and isn’t that a strange thought. God is dead and Dean got his happily ever after sharing a bed and picking out curtains with the former angel who pulled him out of hell.
The curtains, for the record, were not Dean’s idea.
“I don’t get it,” Dean says, eyeing the lacy, mustard-yellow monstrosity that Cas is holding with disdain. “We live in an underground bunker.”
Cas turns the fabric over in his hands. “They would just be for show. Bare concrete is depressing, at least this would be nicer to look at.”
“Disagreed. And since when were you so into decorating?”
“I kept you, didn’t I?” Cas says dryly. 
That’s probably the most sarcastic, round-about way Dean’s ever been called pretty. 
“Aw shucks, thanks honey.”
Cas puts the curtains down, picking up another, even uglier pair. They’re pea-green and crocheted; he has to be messing with Dean at this point. “I like that.”
“If you buy those, I’m burning them,” Dean warns.
“Not the curtains,” Cas says. “You calling me ‘honey’. Please do it more often.”
That effectively shuts Dean up. He can’t be snarky with Cas when he gets this sincere.
*
Dean wakes up to an empty bed.
It’s rare enough these days that the realization immediately puts him on edge. He reaches over to Cas’ side, relieved to discover that the mattress is still warm. Glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand, he sees that it’s only a little past six.
Despite the early hour, there is no way Dean can go back to sleep without knowing where Cas is so he sits up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He stumbles into the hallway in just his boxers and shirt, already missing the warmth of his bed.
As he nears the kitchen, he can hear someone moving around in it, and when he rounds the corner he spots Cas by the stove, spatula in one hand. 
“Cas?” Dean asks, voice still husky from sleep. “What’re you doing?”
Cas doesn’t so much as glance back. “It’s supposed to be an omelette.”
Dean walks up to him, hooking his chin over Cas’ shoulder and wrapping his arms around Cas’ waist. The supposed omelette is a burnt, scrambled mess of eggs, vegetables and sausage on the pan. 
“If you wanted an omelette, I could’ve made you one,” Dean says. 
“I didn’t want to wake you,” Cas sighs, removing the pan from the heat and turning it off. “I’ve seen you make it before, I thought I could do it myself.”
“Maybe next time follow a recipe?” 
“You don’t need a recipe,” Cas says, frustration leaking into his tone.
“Yeah, ‘cause I’ve been cooking for myself and Sam for thirty years. You can’t expect everything to come easy to you. Some stuff you gotta learn from scratch.”
“Nothing comes easy to me.” 
“I don’t know, you’re pretty good in the sack.”
Cas huffs out a small laugh at that and Dean smiles, relieved. Sometimes, making flippant comments only serves to frustrate Cas further. It’s a delicate line to walk and more often than not, Dean flounders off it and falls right on his ass.
“Now, c’mon, wash the pan and get started again.” Dean tightens his arms around Cas for a moment, dropping a quick kiss on his shoulder. “I’ll guide you through it.”
*
‘Happily ever after’ should be overstating it. 
It’s not like they’ve reached some blissful, unchanging state. Not like they never argue, or go to bed unhappy, or need to spend days apart because they’re feeling cooped up and everything they do pisses each other off. 
But, Dean thinks, there’s just no other phrase for it. 
Cas disagrees.
“Our story isn’t over,” he says, trailing kisses down Dean’s chest and this is so not the kind of talking Dean likes in bed, but he is the one who brought it up. “We don’t have a story, that was the point wasn’t it?”
Dean tugs at his shoulder and Cas acquiesces, straightening on top of Dean so they are face to face. 
“So you don’t wanna ride into the sunset with me?”
“Perhaps.” Cas looks him up and down. “What kind of riding did you have in mind?”
Dean laughs. “I have been such a bad influence on you.”
Cas grins and leans in, giving him a nice and thorough kiss. There’s no talking after that, theoretical or otherwise, and Dean supposes it’s just as well. Cas is right.
They’re not a story anymore. 
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softjeon · 6 years
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Through the Veil | Pt. 13
• Pairing: Yoongi x Jungkook • Genre: Angst / Fluff | demon!AU (→  Gifset Trailer) • Words: 5,6k | Co-Writer: Cat @cassiavioletblue​ ↳ (AO3) • Disclaimer: mentioning of alcohol and violence / death / graphic content
↳ Jungkook is pretty sure that he is a normal human being, but he is also sure that this book, he got from his grandma, is a cookbook. So when it turns out that the words he's reciting are not to cook some tasty meal but to summon something from the depth of the underworld - then maybe there are a few more suprises for him in stock. « previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter »
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A coldness crept into him, chilling him clear to the bone. Never in his life had he felt so cold. Yoongi dreaded and welcomed the day at the same time, when his heart could no longer bear the loneliness and would just break in half. He had heard of humans dying because of a broken heart before. He knew that he was slowly going crazy but that was how he felt. He needed him near. It all meant nothing without Jungkook.
Yoongi didn’t even know where to begin anymore. Every night and every day, the only thing on his mind was Jungkook. One day Hoseok had only chuckled at the way that someone like Jungkook could bring one of the strongest demons to his fucking knees. But Jungkook did just that. And Yoongi hated it that he had faked a smile and just went on, doing his work, so he could go back to his cave as fast as he could. To be on his own. Suffering. Longing for the angel boy.
Every day was getting harder, as he could feel how awful Jungkook felt. The bond was telling him to go look for him, to see if his ‘master’ was all right, but he couldn’t. There was no way he could. It was the worse at nights for Jungkook and the demon could feel the pain and suffering with every fiber of his heart. It drained him. He got restless and fidgety and irritated.
Soon Yoongi had established quite the reputation for himself of being completely unratable and highly dangerous. He could go from completely aggressive and violent (when the pain he felt made him lose his mind a little) to soft and sad and almost caring (when he remembered Jungkookie’s softness or how the younger had brought out the best in him). Persephone almost seemed to like it and she definitely found it entertaining to let him lose on her enemies or disobedient servants while never really knowing how he would react and what he would do.
At night Yoongi had made a habit of sleeping curled up around Jungkook’s clothes who had smelled less and less of the angel boy until they were just what they had been before. Simple, useless pieces of cloth, he didn’t care for. He ripped them to pieces in anger, screaming out his pain and sobbing quietly into the pillows after. Pillows that he stole from the palace because Jungkook had slept on them.
Unlike the demon, Jungkook had nothing to hold on to. All he had was the aching in his chest that only got worse and worse. He tried to hold on to the thought of seeing the demon again, that he was missing him just as much but the longer they were separated the more doubts creeped into his mind. The words of the schakal repeating itself in his mind, even though Yoongi had told him otherwise, but still…sometimes…when the night has been too long and the nightmares too much, he couldn’t help but lose himself in these thoughts.
The lack of concentration at work had made his boss warn him twice by now and Jungkook really tried to better himself but it only gotten worse. Sometimes he fell asleep on the floor, looking out of the window and hoping that Yoongi would come. He even let the window open once or twice, not caring how cold it was getting the more days passed. Until one month was gone. And then another.
On days he couldn’t feel the bond as much, Jungkook was holding up, pretending to be alright but as soon as he could feel just a tiny bit of emotion from the other – he was done for. A whimpering mess on the floor. Crying out at night for the other. Jungkook felt pathetic. He had promised the demon to be strong and yet, here he was. Jungkook barely could hold himself up anymore and even the concealer couldn’t hide the red puffy eyes anymore. It felt like the heartache was slowly killing him from the inside. Very slowly, he waddled over to the calendar that was hanging on the wall. Another day had passed. Another ‘X’ was drawn onto the paper. Jungkook let himself fall onto the floor, rubbing his eyes that felt so awfully dry from crying.   
It was supposed to get better. People always said that “time heals everything”. And especially Yoongi, a demon, someone practically designed to dismiss emotions quickly it should have been easy to just go on like normal. He would see Jungkook again after all. Just five years. Five little years, the blink of an eye. And still time had never stretched out so torturously long before. Never.
Yoongi felt like he was losing his mind.
And then he considered cheating. Even though Persephone was letting him punish disobedient servants on a regular basis he still considered going against her rules. He would sneak out and then he would see Jungkook and then… then he wouldn’t be able to stay with Jungkook. Because Persephone would come after him and she would kill Jungkook slowly in front of his eyes just to make a point. They could maybe run - but then Jungkook would have to be on the run for the rest of his life, never safe, always on edge. He didn’t want that kind of life for him. Jungkook deserved better. So much better. So, there was nothing else for him to do but wait.
However, he just... just couldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t be able to endure it. He would literally go crazy because of it. Or he would start to make mistakes, or enemies so that in the end he might get killed off before he even had a chance to see Jungkook again. There had to be another way. This couldn’t be it. There had to be something that he could do. But he came up empty. So, he asked the fairy.
“So, tell me again,” The fairy said, tapping his finger on his chin in thought, “Persephone made you separate, because the bond can’t be broken anymore but Jungkook can’t stay in the underworld otherwise he would wither away and now you have to live without each other.” When Yoongi hummed in response, the fairy chuckled low, “You know I should have bet that you would fall in love. I knew it would happen. Now I’m mad that I didn’t. I would have made so much money.” Realizing that the demon on the other end of the line was quite desperate and not liking his jokes (considering his low growl) he quickly got himself together, “So what do you need me from me?”
“I need to know if there’s another way that we can see each other more often. Any way, really. I don’t want him to be killed or turned into a demon so please stroke that off your list. And betraying Persephone is out of the question. If she doesn’t kill me while trying to sneak out she will hunt us down sooner or later. So, what i want you to do is to please, please ask whoever sources you have that know about stuff like this if there is any other way for us, that I’m not seeing here at the moment. Please.” There was no more room for pretense. He was desperate. And the fairy needed to know that or else he might not tell him more drastic ways if there even were any.
“I’m sorry Yoongi but there’s nothing I can do. I can’t break the bond, nor will anyone try and go against the goddess of the underworld and you know that… there is only one thing,” The fairy answered, the last words rather quietly.
“Well, honey, sweety, listen,” The fairy began before his voice gotten serious, “There is only one way and you know it already, don’t you? Somewhere deep down…it’s risky and probably very stupid. But if my gut feeling isn’t deceiving me it is also the right way.” He sighed deeply, raking his hands through his hair, “You’re not the demon you once were anymore, Yoongi. You are now on the crossroads. Chose.” Somehow, the fairy had the feeling that Persephone was only waiting for Yoongi to break down for him to have only this option left. And she would enjoy it. Every minute of it.
“No way,” Yoongi swallowed hard, his voice small and full of terror, “She might kill me first, just for asking. There’s no way that I can ask her to...ask her... to...” His violent emotions disturbed their call, making the blood in the bowl where the fairies voice had come from ripple and then collapse. Then he got up, pacing, running in circles in front of his sleeping place back and forth, back and forth. And then he realized that the fairy was right. Deep down he already knew that there was no other way than this. He had just needed a confirmation that there was actually nothing, absolutely nothing else, that he could do than this: To ask Persephone to dismiss him from his duties as her servant. Which would also mean that he would stop being a demon. And it was on Persephone to decide what else to turn him into; a corpse or… someone human.
Hoseok had just left the throne sale with a wave of her hand, when Persephone changed into her nightgown dress as she was strolling to the private rooms of her palace. She yawned cutely and with another flick of her wrist she let her hair fall out of its bun and down her shoulders in big waves. Her footsteps echoing in the big hallways. She didn’t care if the guards could see her like this, changing midways – they knew better than to stare.
Yoongi didn't care for the time. There wasn’t a ‘good time’ for a question like this. He might fall from her grace simply because of asking the question or even daring to think about leaving her. So, when he hurried down the hallways he ignored the guards confused looks and kept going until he saw a familiar face.
“Hoseok!” Yoongi almost didn’t recognize his own voice. He sounded strange, as if every protection had been stripped from him and now there was only his very core left, tender and vulnerable. Hoseok turned, giving him a look that Yoongi couldn’t decipher but he had a question to ask so he went on with it right away. “Is she still in there? I need to talk to Persephone.”
Hoseok shook his head right away, “No, she retreated to her private rooms. Why do you need to talk to her so late? Did something happen?” The demon looked at his friend rather concerned, who was looking rather anxious. “Is something wrong with Jungk-,” Hoseok couldn’t end his sentence, seeing the expression on Yoongi’s face and then he panicked. “No, no, no, you’re not in your right mind! What are you trying to do? What is this about? Yoongi?” Hoseok put his hands on the other’s shoulders, shaking him as if he could shake the stupid idea out of him. He had a feeling what this was about. He had seen the way Yoongi had changed. It has been months without Jungkook and it only gotten worse. He was losing him. The only demon he ever called his friend – or something like that.
“Hoseok - Hobi…,” He had never called him by his nickname out loud before. But he felt like he needed to make the other understand. Now. After all it might be the last time he saw him. He plucked the other’s hands of his shoulders but kept them in his, avoiding Hoseoks eyes and instead fixating his gaze on their conjoined hands. “I know that you might not understand this and it’s okay if you’re angry or hurt that I leave you behind like this. But I can’t take this anymore. I was fine before I met Jungkook. Until he opened my eyes and made me see that my kind of ‘fine’ had just been cold and loneliness and violence. I can’t live like that anymore. I miss him so much, Hoseok. So much that I can’t breathe without my chest hurting. My heart feels like it's on fire but one that slowly burns it out. I can’t go on - so I need to ask her if it’s possible to dismiss me. I might end up being together with Jungkook in some way. Or I might end up getting killed. But… at least I followed my heart. I tried. That’s something, isn’t it? And I’m thankful that I could call you my friend.”
“I can’t make you change your mind, can I?” Hoseok asked quietly but he knew the answer already. “It’s…dumb I hope you know that,” The demon’s voice cracked lightly, and he quickly regained his posture. His lip was quivering and Hoseok had to admit that he was feeling lost and hurt – but it was Yoongi’s decision. It was on him. He gulped heavily against the lump in his throat before he hesitated, opening his arms slowly. The demon wasn’t sure how humans really did it, but he had seen them do it a couple of times - so he went it and closed his arms around Yoongi. Just for a moment, before he pulled back and averted his gaze quick. He couldn’t stand here and watch this. A quiet ‘Good luck’ was all he could say before he spread his wings and flew out of the window and as high up as he could. No one should see that he was hurting.
Yoongi barely had time to reciprocate the hug, completely caught off guard by Hoseoks open display of affection before the other let go and surged into the air. He didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. But it was probably what both had wanted. Saying ‘goodbye’ would mean that they would never see each other again. And if Yoongi was lucky and he got turned into a human and live with Jungkook then Hoseok would be able to visit him. So, saying goodbye was also like an admission of knowing how high the risk was that he wouldn’t end up where he wanted to be.
A sudden noise behind him, shook Yoongi out of his doubts quick and he saw the goddess walking up to him. “Oh, did you get lost, demon?” Retreating from her bathroom, she walked past the demon, not sharing a glance but with a smile on her face and a tone in her voice that revealed, that she knew very well that Yoongi was here because of her. She turned around gracefully just in front of her room and send away the guards standing around, “Or did you miss me that much already that you couldn’t wait to kneel for me again tomorrow?”
Yoongi lowered his head submissively, his heart kicked into overdrive but her sudden appearance. “I got a request, my goddess,” He swallowed hard before stepping into the room that Persephone was resting in when she held the door open for him. He behaved as if it was totally normal for her to receive guests in here when Yoongi was pretty certain that the only people who had seen Persephone's private rooms from the inside were her lovers, Hades, the maids who were supposed to care for her comfort - and Persephone herself. He wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or bad sign that she let him see her rooms just like this. 
She tied her robe a little tighter around her waist, before sitting on the edge of her bed. “A request? That late at night?” The goddess asked and gestured for Yoongi to come in further. “Tell me then,” She pushed her hair back behind her shoulders, before her gaze was piercing through Yoongi, “What do you need from me?”
Yoongi sank down on one knee, the way he knew she liked it, before daring to look up at her, searching for her eyes. “I would like to ask for a favor. One that is way too big for me but in my presumptuousness, I will ask for it nonetheless. My goddess, my mistress, I served you for a little eternity and I served you as good as I could, with the best intentions and the utmost respect. My admiration for your strength and beauty will never cease. Still, after month of considering very careful what kind of options I have I finally come to the conclusion that there is no other way than this. So, now I am here, my goddess, kneeling in front of you as your devoted servant, completely at your mercy and asking if... if there is a way...” Yoongi's voice died out, but he coughed a little and forced the words out even though he had started to tremble, “...a way to possibly be dismissed from your service.”
 A knowing smile touched the goddess lips and she got up from where she sat, walking over to her servant. She had been only waiting for him to break right in front of her, begging her to let him go. She had wondered why it had taken so long.
“My servant,” She said and got up and over to him. Persephone let her hand trail over his shoulders, walking around until she was right in front him, “Show me your wings.” When he did as she ordered, she stood in awe, her hands wandering all over his shoulders and neck, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at her and then she touched his wings. Just a light caress.
“You know what you are asking of me is a really stupid request, right?” Persephone spoke further, “You’re asking me to let you go, when you know that I’ve never did so. Never in a million years.” She turned around, walking away from Yoongi but only to heighten the tension for the kneeling demon. She was playing a game.
“Do you think the angel boy is still in love with you? After what you did to him?” The goddess asked with a rough voice, but didn’t expect any answers, “You broke his heart. Took his innocence and then casted him off like it was nothing. It has been months. Don’t you think he has moved on? Can you be sure that he will take you back if I let you go? And now you asked me, your goddess, the one you should always be loyal to, to dismiss you? Just like that? It will be painful, more pain than you’ve ever experienced or can imagine and what do I get from this? I get nothing?” The goddess saw how the demon was trembling, the way he tried to hold himself up – but she knew better. From the day Yoongi had brought Jungkook down into the underworld she knew. Fate and Love were higher powers she doesn’t like to mingle with but that doesn’t mean that she will let her servants go like that. “Your loyalty has changed, demon. Your heart doesn’t beat for me anymore,” The goddess spoke softly and put a finger under Yoongi’s chin to make him look up, “Is it love? Or is it the bond? Tell me Yoongi...”
Yoongi swallowed hard, his wings slightly trembling and betraying him with showing off how anxious he was. How vulnerable. How scared. He regretted asking her. Not because he didn’t want to do this but, because he was afraid that Persephone would kill him right here, right now and he would never see Jungkook again. Even worse, Jungkook might wait for him to show up five years from now and when Yoongi wouldn’t be there then... then it would confirm Jungkook’s fears that he played him. And he would break the youngers heart again. Like he had done over and over again. His eyes filled with tears, but he refused to cry in front of Persephone. If this was how he was going to die, then he would die with his eyes dry and Jungkook’s face in his mind. Sweet, little Jungkook. His angel. His love.
There was no hesitation in his voice when he answered her, “The bond doesn’t matter. Not anymore. I love him. No matter what will happen to me now I’m going to love him for the rest of my life.”
Persephone was almost touched with the way Yoongi was talking about Jungkook. There was so much hope and love radiating off him, despite his anxiousness and she kneeled in front of him, to cup his face. Watching his face closely, she let her hands caress over his soft skin, looking deep into his eyes. “I will miss you, demon,” She whispered and leaned in to kiss his forehead. No matter how hard and cruel she was, she still respected the demon in a way. He had been loyal to her for an eternity. Had been one of her best servants. She sighed deeply, staying close to him and speaking in a whisper. “I can make you forget,” Persephone spoke, “About Jungkook, the pain, the bond will only be a faded weird feeling in the pit of your stomach and you can stay a demon. If you chose to stay, I’d make sure to make you my personal guard. My demon. I’d give you greater powers than you’ll ever imagine.” Her fingers trailed with a feather light touch over his cheek, “Or I can make you human.”
Yoongi suppressed a shudder. Persephone had never been so close to him let alone touch him like that. He felt like an insect pinned down by her stare, her touches so intense as if they burned right through his skin into his soul. His breath became shallow. For a second, just the fraction of a second, he considered the surprising offer. He hadn’t known that there was another option. But to be honest it wasn’t more than a quick thought before he was sure that there was no way that he could live with this. Even if it would work and he forgot everything - he didn’t want to. He would never leave Jungkook alone like this, seeking refuge in the past and leaving Jungkook to suffer on his own. The younger didn’t deserve this. His heart beat faster when Persephone mentioned the second option. Becoming human. Just what he wanted. Or rather what he would chose to endure to be with Jungkook.
“But…there is a price to pay. It will entail a lot of pain. More than you could ever imagine. I will take everything from you that makes you a demon and unlike becoming one, you will remember all the pain, like a fragile human does,” Making Yoongi look her into her eyes, she put a finger under his chin, “Barely one survived it before. I can’t promise you that you will… So, stay with me, become my personal guard and stay forever safe or take the risk of death in hope to be with the one you love. Choose, demon.”
There wasn’t really anything to choose. He had made his decision long ago and his fate had been sealed the moment he had gone out tonight.
“You know what I want, my goddess. Please, even though it will make you lose a servant I beg you to be selfless and grant me my wish,” He was scared, so so scared. But he would push through. This was what he needed to do.
Suddenly Persephone’s expression changed as if everything before had just been show and now she was showing her true colors. She got up and Yoongi stayed kneeling, unsure how to react or what to do now. He had no idea how exactly this would work so he didn’t know what he was expected to do. But apparently Persephone had him where she wanted him to be because she didn’t ask him to get up, just started to walk around him slowly. All the while she was looking at him, scanning him as if he was an exhibit at a museum, a statue to admire from afar. Unable to hide from any stares or attacks Yoongi was tense, his breath coming in short pants. He was getting more and more nervous. He shuddered when she touched his wings again, but she just started stroking the feathers like before, letting Yoongi feel them, each and every one of them and how deeply they were connected to his very being.
„So beautiful,” She whispered, a cruel praise considering what she was about to do, „You always had the most beautiful wings, Yoongi. I bet it must feel wonderful to fly, having the wind brush through your feathers. It must feel like freedom.”
Yoongi couldn’t take the tension anymore, he sobbed once, an ugly, desperate sound coming from his chest. She hit right where it hurt the most. He loved flying. Always had. Because it felt exactly like that, like pure freedom right within his grasp.
“To be above everything else must be awesome. Don’t you want to…”
„Please,” Yoongi interrupted her, voice small and choked with tears. „Please stop teasing me. We both know I love my wings dearly. Just…just get it over with. I made my decision. I won’t change it now. Please just…just make it quick.” Persephone smiled gently, completely in contrast to what she was would do next. Then she got a hold of Yoongi’s wing, right where it was connected to his shoulder blade. “As you wish,” Then she cleanly ripped his wing out from his shoulder.
Yoongi screamed.
One yank of her was all it took to separate the tissue and bones, muscles and vessels simply ripping apart under her violent strength. His fingers curling desperately against the cold floor in a desperate attempt to hold onto something, anything that he could hold onto, that would anchor him and keep him from losing his mind in pain. It hurt so much! He had never felt this kind of anguish in his entire life and it wasn’t even over with. He whimpered when she gripped his other wing, his body trying to writhe out of her grasp on its own accord.
“N...no, please…,” His words were slurred from the effort it took him to stay conscious through the agony he felt, his body shivering uncontrollably from pure shock. The second wing was worse because he knew what was coming. And still he couldn’t prepare himself for it. It blindsided him how deeply it ripped into his soul, how the pain seemed to invade his lungs and pierce his soul until there was nothing else left but dread and hot white, desperate agony burning through his very core. It was all in a bit of a haze after that – but Yoongi was thankful for that.
Jungkook woke with a loud scream, his eyes widened all while he was falling off the edge of the bed right away. He was clutching his heart. Pain. So much pain. He was barely able to breathe as the burn was rippling through him. He screamed out the demon’s name, shutting his eyes close as he tried to get himself back onto the bed, but Jungkook couldn’t move. Everything hurt too much. Pulling himself up, he fell again. It felt like he was getting stabbed all over again and he tried to see if he was hurting somewhere. With shaking hands, he lifted his shirt, but another piercing pain went right through him, making him fall onto his knees. Jungkook was whimpering pathetically. The pain wasn’t bearable for a human. His head was pounding It was too much and Jungkook could feel the darkness wash over him, making him fall back and onto the floor.
Persephone’s hand wrapped around his horns. A wicked smile on her lips, before she broke them off, right at the base, then burning out the stumps so they wouldn’t grow back ever again. The singing heat and dull sounds of breaking horn washed over like it was nothing. Yoongi couldn’t move, couldn’t fight her. His whole body frozen in shock, his mind entirely numb from it. But even if he had been able to move it wouldn’t have helped. He had chosen this. He had chosen to give up everything he had and risk his soul and his life just for a chance to get back to Jungkook. Persephone had been right. It was stupid. So utterly, utterly stupid. And yet the thought of Jungkook and the possibility of seeing him again sooner was the only thing that helped him through this.
Persephone took his hand, leaning over it as if to kiss his palm before ripping out his claws, one by one.
Yoongi barely flinched, instead he just moaned pathetically in pain. It just added to the already overwhelming misery he was in. When she was finished she let him go and Yoongi collapsed, unable to hold himself up on his own, his limbs trembling like aspen leaves.
Persephone stood tall over the unconscious demon, watching his still form for a little while before she kneeled next to him. Then she closed her eyes and put her hand over his eyes and one on his heart. Under her breath, she was repeating the magical words, that would make Yoongi human, over and over again until the strong magic was rushing through her veins and to her fingertips and flowing right into Yoongi’s body.
His eyes stood wide open again, as he screamed in pain under her magic. The magic was pushing everything that was demonic out of him and only left the human side of him. Yoongi was hissing, breathing heavily through the pain and screaming that Persephone was scared he wouldn’t make it. “Hold on,” She screamed back and pushed a little further, “It’s over soon.”
Yoongi was writhing on the floor, shuddering violently under her grip until finally, finally she took her hands off him. His body arched up one last time before he laid still. Yoongi felt strange. Every cell, every fiber of him was aching and he wanted so badly to cry. He was cold except for the hot blood running down his back and pooling around his form until he was lying in a puddle of red.
“Look at you,” Persephone's voice was soft as she brushed back his hair, wiping away the sweaty and bloody strands that were plastered to his forehead. “You should have listened when you were warned about love. It’s always painful for us. One way or another we’re going to end up hurting. And as I said you don’t even know if he still loves you. Maybe he never really did. He could have fallen for the thrill and adrenaline. Or he had some strange kind of Stockholm syndrome considering he was just as bound to you as you were to him. And then he was held here in the underworld. Not the perfect conditions for real love, don’t you think?” Yoongi pressed his lips together until they were thin and bloodless.
“And even if you are a lucky one and he feels something for you – you realize that he could do so much better than you, right? He’s a pure human being and he should be with someone as gentle and human as himself. You won’t ever come close to that, even without your horns and wings and stripped of your powers you will still be a tainted one. Not completely human but not a demon either. Did you really consider this? With all its consequences? There are so many ways that this could go wrong, for both you and your loved one,” She was stroking soothingly through his hair, a sweet, wicked smile on her lips. Yoongi couldn’t help it, he whimpered, curling in on himself more tightly. Her words held way too much truth for his liking. Jungkook was everything good in his life while he was – no, had been - a demon. But even as a human and on his best behavior he would never be the kind of ‘good’ that an angel naturally was.
Persephone’s eyes were full of pity when she caressed his cheekbone, leaving a trail of blood behind on his face. “Maybe if you beg me enough I might take you back right now. Even wingless and powerless as you are I might find a place for you as a lower servant. It would be far from what you did for me before and you would certainly feel downgraded and useless and just as weak as you are now – but wouldn’t it be better than going up into the human world without knowing what will happen to you? I only offer this once and only if you beg me right now and promise to never dare to ask me to let you go ever again. If Jungkook refuses to let you in, then there will be absolutely nothing for you up there. You can’t just change your mind then. Even if you see how stupid your decision was. No matter if your heart will be broken or your body violated I won’t help you. I won’t let you back into the underworld. Beg me now or you will be completely on your own.” She watched him like a hawk waiting for him to speak up but Yoongi kept quiet, biting his lip so hard he drew blood, just to make sure he wouldn’t make any sound that could be considered affirmation.
“Alright. Then I guess this is it-,” The goddess ripped the clothes from his body because they had been made in the underworld and he had worn them while he had still been a demon, He wasn’t allowed to keep anything that would connect him to his former existence. He was something else now. Yoongi the demon didn’t exist any longer.
“Goodbye, Yoongi,” Then she sent him up one last pitying look and a wave of her hand. She wasn’t sure if he would make it.
A/N: Only one more chapter to go! Do you think Yoongi will make it? Will Jungkook be able to endure the pain? *sighs* Whooo knows (well... we do ;)) hihi Thank you for reading! Leave us a comment on how you liked it aaaaand please, check out this wonderful fanart from @imurproblematicfav who made a lovely TTV Yoonkook drawing ;; I never received fanart before and seeing your story drawn is like ahgrhrgrhr it’s so cool. Cat and I are so happy! Thank you, Bels!!! ❤
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vargas-cartel · 6 years
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Get To Know P! 
Founder & admin  Creations: fics, GIFsets, and mood boards Main blog: @youleftme-clarke  Country: Canada 🇨🇦 Occupation: Chef! Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw MBTI: INFJ Hobbies: Writing, watching too much TV, working in my garden and cooking Pets: 3 dogs Favorite quote: So here you are. Too foreign for here, too foreign for home, never enough for both. -Ijeoma Umebinyuo Coffee or tea? Coffee. Always coffee. Too much coffee. Last song I listened to: Bleeding Out - Imagine Dragons Last movie I watched: The Greatest Showman Last book I read: Walking Disaster Favorite shows: QOTS, The 100, Chicago Fire, Chicago PD, and Chicago Med, Friday Night Lights, The Good Place, MasterChef Favorite movies: Moulin Rouge, Big Hero 6, Tangled, Pride & Prejudice (2005) Favorite books: The Mortal Instruments and The Infernal Devices series by Cassandra Clare, A Court of Thorns and Roses (read: A Court of Pain and Feels) by Sarah J Maas
About me: Hi y’all! I go by P on Tumblr, and I am overly invested in Queen of the South. Like, waaaay too invested. And it’s all Lindsay’s fault. We were talking about TV shows and she bombarded me with Jeresa GIFs and I was just sold. I started this blog before I’d even finished season 2. I’m the one that’s been replying to all the wonderful asks you’ve been sending me about James’ tattoos and Jeresa feels and not getting too into hugs, but I’m hoping some of these other wonderful ladies will throw in their 2 cents, too.
I’m a university drop out turned chef. I used to work on 5-star cruise ships up until I realized the internet sucked (just kidding. The pay was horrible). Now you can find me at home baking while watching TV or gardening while thinking up fic plots. Most of the writing I’ve done has been for Bellarke, but don’t you worry your pretty little minds, I’ve got some Jeresa stuff coming up as soon as I get through the next month because my schedule is packed.
I’m French but have decently good English, listen to music all the time, and am always online. I love hearing from y’all and getting to talk to y’all, so anytime you need to talk QOTS, Jeresa, or just about how things are going in life, send me a message in our asks!
(Oh, and season 3 premieres on my birthday so I get to brag about getting James Valdez for my birthday this year!)
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accio-ambition · 7 years
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This chapter is mostly banter. So enjoy. As always, a million bajillion thanks to @shipsxahoy, @queen-icicle-fandom, @sotheylived, and those crazy kids at @captainswanbigbang. With each new chapter, I get a little sadder that this project is wrapping up and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank them enough.
Summary: Bouncing around with her son for the majority of her life, Emma Swan has told herself she’s happy in the city. It’s where the most camera operating jobs are, and that’s how she makes her money. But when an old friend calls her and asks for her help on a new project in small town Maine, Emma finds herself in a place she’s never been with people she doesn’t know filming a profession she knows nothing about. But when the captain of the ship she’s filming begins taking a keen interest in her and her life, she finds herself wondering whether she might just catch something other than fish. Deadliest Catch AU Rating: M Content warning: Character death, some violent situations
FFnet/Ao3/Cover/Snapshots/Gifset/Manip
Chapter Eighteen
“We’re not getting another ship.” Killian slides onto the bench across from her at Granny’s, nabbing an onion ring as he scoots by her plate.
“What?” she asks, confused about both the statement and the idea that he thinks she won’t mind him stealing her onion rings. Rotating her plate so her rings are closest to her side of the table, Emma repeats herself. “What do you mean, you’re not getting another ship?”
He shrugs. Somehow, the action conveys sass. “What part don’t you understand, Swan? ‘We’ refers to my brother and I. ‘Are not’ means - ”
“I mean why aren’t you guys getting a new ship?” she interrupts, glaring at him. “You said you were looking into it before the Jewel sunk. Why stop looking now that it has?”
Glancing anywhere but at her, Killian explains, “There’s nothing out in the market right now that’s what Liam’s looking for. I think he wants to try and salvage the Jewel, build it up again from scratch and make some changes.”
“How long would that take?” she asks, ticking her head to the side.
“It’s anybody’s guess,” Killian says as Ruby comes up to their table with a smile on her face, asking Killian if he needs anything. He orders a cup of coffee, more out of kindness than necessity or desire. Once she’s gone to place his order, he looks back at Emma. “He’s calling up some of his mates in the Coast Guard and throughout the harbor to see if any one of them is willing to help haul what’s left on the shore back to a shop.”
“Huh,” she hums. It’s an interesting proposition, one that could make for good TV. She isn’t sure if that’s at all what they would want - they being the Jones brother or the executives - but it could be interesting. That is, so long as no one is breaking their contract. “Have you told Jefferson?”
Killian shakes his head. “He’s the next call, after Dave.” Reaching across the table, he steals another onion ring, narrowly avoiding Emma’s slap. He takes a bite and chews it for a moment. “I didn’t know Granny made onion rings,” he comments idly.
Emma smirks, taking a bite out of one of her own rings. “She does for her favorite customers,” she snarks.
An extremely dramatic frown crosses his face. “I thought I was one of her favorites,” he mumbles.
She knows he’s playacting for her pity, but Emma still feels the need to comfort him. “I don’t think there’s anyone in town who isn’t Granny’s favorite.” She reaches across the table to pat his hand. “Don’t worry, you’re one of my favorites,” she says.
He grins. “As much as I will cherish that admission,  I don’t get free food out of our relationship.”
“Hey, I still have to pay for this stuff,” she whines. “And I can make you food.” His eyebrows shoot up and she shrugs. “It’d be free for you.”
“I feel like we’ll have more time for that in the near future, what with there being only one ship in our possession.” Sighing again, Killian rests his head on the table in front of him, grasping blindly for her hand. He entwines their fingers together. “What are we going to do, Emma?”
“I don’t know,” she grumbles, relishing in the warmth and weight of his hand in hers. “We’ll figure it out.” In the meantime, Emma uses her other hand to slide her plate reluctantly between them, a silent offer for assurance in the form of onion rings.
Peeking up from his arms, Killian smiles. He actually thanks her this time as he takes an onion ring and munches on it thoughtfully. “What do you think Jeff’s going to say about the show?” he asks.
She shrugs this time. “He’s probably going to refer back to whatever contract you guys signed, then take it up to the channel execs. See what they say.” Ruby finally returns with his cup of coffee and another small plate of onion rings for her. “It’s a huge guessing game until the end of this season. I’m sure it won’t end badly. They might just find another trawler somewhere nearby and focus on them instead of the Jolly Roger and the Jewel.” She rolls her eyes. “Who knows?”
Looking off into space, Killian reaches over to the plate of fresh onion rings, only to be met with empty air. He looks up to find Emma hoarding the plate close to her, Gollum protecting the one ring.
“I don’t care how good looking you are,” she threatens him. “You want onion rings? Fucking order some and stop stealing mine.”
A huge smile breaks across his face before he salutes her sarcastically. “Message received loud and clear, love.” Still, he actually stands up and grabs one last ring from her possession. “They just taste so much better when it makes you feisty.”
Bending over to press a short kiss to the top of her head, Killian pops her onion ring into his mouth and smirks on the way out of Granny’s, leaving Emma fuming.
0000
Jefferson’s reaction, at least according to Liam and how Killian relays it to her on the phone later that night, is more positive than either of them had expected. While Emma prepared herself to hear about screaming and cursing in true Jeff fashion, Killian tells her that their producer understood considering the circumstances.
“Liam said that Jeff said that he’d inform the proper executives and get back to me if there was anything else he needed,” his voice crackles through the line. Emma’s walking in the front door, a bag of Chinese food dangling off her elbow and her cell wedged between shoulder and ear.
“Well, that sounds kind of promising,” she assures him, shutting the door behind her. “Hold on a second.” Taking the phone from her shoulder, Emma yells for Henry to set the table before returning to their conversation. “Do you think he’ll have something to get back to you with by the barbeque?” she asks.
“Dunno,” he grumbles. She can just imagine him scratching behind his ear, the uncertainty of the future causing a frustrated blush to rise on his neck. He sighs, and then says, “I’ll let you and the lad get to supping. See you soon, love.”
“Bye.”
Emma hopes for all their sakes and sanities that Jefferson does have something to tell the crew by the time the Nolans’ barbeque rolls around in a couple of days. It’s the end of summer though it feels more like fall, coming up on the end of regular trawling season, and to celebrate that or maybe just help each other grieve and mourn the recent past. Either way, Mary Margaret had brought up the idea and Emma had wholeheartedly volunteered her and Henry’s manpower to help set up.
“Mom, Phillip’s mom was gonna take us to a movie,” he complains where she tells him of their plans.
“Well, you’ll have to call Phillip and tell him sorry,” she says. “It’s going to be a beautiful day and David promised me there would be ice cream.” Flopping back on the couch they share and changing the channel, Emma adds, “Invite him to the party while you’re at it. Phillip and his parents.”
“This is Mary Margaret and David’s party, remember?”
She shrugs. “We’re setting it up, I’m saying we can invite people.”
And Emma really begins to agree with her own words as she’s helping David set up the eighth fold-out table in an hour in their backyard, his wife directing them on its placement and Henry plugging in lights around the fence. Mary Margaret keeps saying she needs to keep an eye on food she’s pre-cooking in the kitchen, but Emma’s sure she just doesn’t want to do the heavy lifting. Literally.
All the while, the possibility of having to leave Storybrooke - of no longer being able to use her son for chores, of no longer being close to Mary Margaret and David, or Ruby, or even the Joneses - lingers in her mind.
It’s something she doesn’t want to do unless it’s absolutely necessary.
But now that there isn’t a second boat and no intention of getting one, there might be no show that needs a camera for her to operate. She’s in a bit of a tight position. She has enough saved up for her and Henry to survive for a little while, but the mastering of camera operation can only take you so far in life.
These frightening thoughts sneak in and out of her mind during the party, almost ruining the beautiful sunset that cools what remains of a scorching day. Henry’s having a blast, he and Phillip shooting each other with water guns in between hot dogs and ice cream. Mary Margaret’s in full-on hostess mode, talking with everyone she walks by to make sure their drinks are cold and their stomach are satisfied. And David, standing next to Emma, taking in the scene with his own internal commentary.
“What am I going to do?” she asks David in one instance of darkened thought, beer in hand.
Reading her mind, he shrugs and takes a sip of his beer. “What are we going to do?”
Emma chuckles darkly. “At least Mary Margaret’s got a job.”
“Hey,” David reprimands her. With a shrug, she rolls her eyes at him. “I know you don’t particularly like asking for help, but you know you don’t have to do this alone.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he pulls her into his side, a brotherly gesture of comfort. “Some other project will come up. And in the meantime, enjoy your time with Henry. Relax.”
“Easier said than done,” she grumbles. She takes a swig of her beer only to find it empty. A frown growing on her face is halted by the somewhat magical appearance of another drink in David’s other hand.
“Maybe you just need a little push in the right direction,” he suggests, handing the beer over.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
David nods to Killian, who’s now chasing after Henry and Roland, Liam and Robin and Regina laughing at his antics. He’s spent the majority of the evening doing so, choosing the adventures of children over alcohol for entertainment. Liam even had to scold him for running about the deck too fast.
(He’d been sheepish naturally, being treated like a child, but Emma had to admit that the entire situation was adorable.)
“Don’t make me spell it out for you,” David nearly begs.
Catching his drift, Emma grimaces. “You’re gross.”
“I’m right.” She glares at him as he takes another drink of his beer, trying unsuccessfully to hide his smug smile. When he finishes, David shakes his head. “Look, I don’t want to know anything about it.”
“There’s nothing for you to know, we just - ”
“Don’t want to know,” he interrupts her, his hand coming up between them. “All I need to know is if he makes you happy. Because I can lie to myself all I want and pretend that you’re happier here because you have us. But even I have to admit you look a hell of a lot happier when he’s around these days.”
Taking a moment to contemplate the idea, Emma finally shrugs, hints of a smile curling the corners of her mouth. “I’m not unhappy.”
David nods once sharply. “Good enough for me,” he says, taking another drink. “The rest of that stuff, you can talk to Mary Margaret or Ruby. Not my department.”
Emma nudges his shoulder in good humor. “You mean you don’t want to know the intimate details about-”
“Nope,” he interrupts her. “Not my department. Not at all.”
With a nod and a smile, David takes his leave, mumbling something about making sure there’s enough food. It’s as much a fake excuse to get away from the uncomfortable conversation as it is an inside joke - like Mary Margaret would ever let anyone go hungry at her house.
As though his ears were burning, David’s space is quickly occupied by Killian himself, out of breathe and damp from being chased with water guns.
“Those lads are quick,” he says nonchalantly.
Emma chuckles. “What, Captain Hook can’t keep up with the Lost Boys now?” she teases him. “Finally admitting defeat and letting old age and a croc get you?”
Killian’s frown is so dramatic - honestly, it makes him look like a blobfish - that her laughter flourishes into guffaws and even a few tears. “I am affronted, Swan,” he says. his voice equally put off. “How dare you insult the captain as such. I should make you walk the plank!”
So she’s had a few drinks, as he probably has too, but that matter doesn’t do anything to quell the warmth that bubbles up inside with this ridiculous man next to her. She thinks of what David said and maybe it’s just become obvious to her how obvious she and Killian are together. How often and how much time they spend with each other, how their countenances change when in each other’s company.
It nearly makes her sad when she forces the conversation to other, less amusing topics.
“Did Jefferson get back to you yet?”
Shaking his head, Killian runs a hand through his hair. “I even inquired about it the other day after Liam’s check up,” he tells her. “Alas, nothing from executives or any other higher up.”
“I’m sure that doesn’t mean anything,” Emma assures him, though a different discussion sets off in her mind. She knows better than Killian that, unlike in other realms of the world, no news in show business isn’t good news. Sea of Chaos is quite a money maker for the network: it’s grown a fanbase, it’s interesting enough and original enough that it could bring in more ratings, and the cast is memorable enough that they can quote them on merchandise. Changing it in any way - or worse, cancelling it - could be detrimental to their entire lineup.
But Killian doesn’t need to know that.
“No news is good news, right?” Emma lies easily.
He shrugs. “I can only suppose so.”
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cynicaldesire · 6 years
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I watched a little Thor 2 today with the parents. Somehow having to explain it to my mom and the pure excitement of my dad made the viewing all that more enjoyable.
I noticed some things about Loki’s character in it that I didn’t notice on the first viewing. (Probably because the first viewing was an acquisition so it had questionable quality and I was watching it with my boyfriend who has/had no room for my fangirl shenanigans.)
I started writing one of my shitty stream of consciousness outlines for a... situation, a chapter really, in the lives of Lucretia and Loki. You might remember them from a really old fanfic I wrote that I still want to edit and update. She’s an OC I made for X-Men: Evolution and then fleshed out into a whole person through that fic. (I love her.)
The story started because of a bunch of people fangirling all over the movie and like a gifset of Loki and Thor on Earth in Midgardian garb.
This is what I meant. You’ll never really know how happy I am to not have to drive my sister around, to not have that albatross around my neck. This pure sense of freedom I have. This fucking joy.
Sure, I’m drowning myself in FFXIV, but I can now. But I can also think about Loki wondering why Lucretia is upset with him while she cooks him dinner and he tries to get her cat to like him. Because even if their connection before was a farce, a manipulation of their minds because of the broken consciousness they yin/yang’d, he came to realize he legitimately cared for her. So why is their reunion so cold?
Anyway, sorry. I’ve been wondering how to continue my Cullen fanfic, maybe I should work on my Warframe fanfic. Protoman needs some training with his new gun and I guess we should explore the whole Ghost idea? Not to mention... Ryuji and Makoto have a story I’m supposed to be working on. And Velstadt has a war to lose.
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