#fulff

True to your word, the next day you stood in the same spot of the hotel lobby, waiting for Abel.

You were even a few minutes early. You weren’t used to showing up on time for dates. It was either late or not at all. You tapped your foot restlessly against the floor in an attempt to alleviate how anxious you felt.

Nervous was not something you were used to feeling and you hated it.

‘Miss Y/N! You actually showed up!’ Abel’s voice suddenly reached your ears. He sounded surprised but also excited at the same time. Did he really think you would stand him up?

You flipped your hair over your shoulder and turned to face the angel, crossing your arms with a smile.

‘What? You think I'm the kind of girl to-’ You cut yourself off when you saw what he was carrying in his arms.

Abel, the adorable angel was currently stood beaming up at you.... With a gift basket.

It was full of sweets and chocolates, along with a teddy bear centre piece holding a love heart. All you could do was stare blankly down at the items in his hands for a few moments.

Was this for you.....?

A light blush appeared on your face, but you couldn’t let him see that.

‘Is that a gift basket?’

‘Yes! I haven’t really been on many dates before, well... none, actually, but I thought this would be a nice gift!’ He held the basket out to you with a shy smile.

You stared at him for a moment, taking in what he had said, before throwing your head back and letting out an exaggerated laugh.

‘Really? A gift basket? Did you not learn from your run in with Vox?’

Abel felt the colour drain from his face and suddenly shrunk back when he heard you laugh. The smile instantly fell from his face and he pulled the basket away from you.

Abel looked away and his head fell in defeat.

‘This was a terrible idea...’ He thought to himself.

Without a word he turned to walk away, because what could he even say without humiliating himself more than he already had.

You frowned when you saw his reaction, arms dropping to your side as you instantly felt terrible for making fun of him. This wasn’t what you wanted at all...

‘Wait.’ You spoke softly, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to stop him leaving. He turned to face you, still upset but curious at your sudden change in demeanour.

You sighed and looked to the side, holding one arm with the other as you thought how you could fix this disastrous start.

‘I’m... not used to people actually making an effort with me like this...’ You trailed off, biting your lip thoughtfully. Abel had now turned back to fully face you, brows still scrunched up as he listened to you speak.

‘I guess I use snark as a bit of a defence mechanism.’ Your eyes flickered back towards the shorted angel and offered him a sad smile.

You leaned down and placed a small kiss on his cheek. ‘I’m sorry.’ You whispered in his ear lowly. As quickly as it left, the blush reappeared as soon as your lips touched his skin.

‘so... You don’t think this is stupid? He offered the basket to you once more, still a little unsure.

You giggled lightly and shook your head.

‘No. It’s actually very sweet.’ Reaching out, you carefully removed the teddy from the confines of the basket and held it close to you.

‘Now come on!’ You grabbed his had without warning, almost making him trip as you began to drag him towards Husk’s bar. ‘I’m buying you the first drink.’

‘Huh!? No way! What kind of guy would I be if I let the lady pay on the first date!’ Reaching the bar, you leaned down to be eye to eye with him and smirked.

‘I thought you said you hadn’t been on a date before, feathers?’

‘Well uh...’ He rubbed the back of his head with his hand, suddenly feeling bashful. ‘My dad did teach me a thing or two before... you know.’

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t press it. It was highly doubtful that Adam had taught his son how to treat a lady well, but you weren’t about to tell him his dad was a piece of shit to his face either.

‘Uh huh sure. I’m still buying. So what fancy ass things do you angels drink?’

‘I’m not making any fancy ass drinks. You’ll have hard liquor and be happy about it.’ Husk suddenly cut over you as the two of you sat down.

‘C’mon Husker! Can’t you see we were having a moment here?’

‘Is this kid even old enough to drink?’ Husk grumbled, but still poured shots for the two of you anyway. He didn’t actually care after all.

‘Whaaat of course he is! How old were you when you died feathers?’ Your eyes suddenly widened at your own question and quickly back tracked when you saw his shocked reaction. ‘Wait shit, is that a rude question to ask on a first date???’

‘No it’s fine really!’ Abel shook his hands slowly and laughed at your flushed expression. It was nice to not be the one flustered for a change. Abel hummed and held his chin thoughtfully.

‘Now that you mention it, I don’t really remember since it was so long ago. I promise I was an adult though, so no need to worry about underage drinking Mr. Cat man!’ Abel beamed at Husk, whilst the cat man in question shot him a death glare.

‘Call me that again and underage drinking will be the least of your problems.’

‘Right, sorry.’ Abel reached out and took the shot glass in front of him, bringing it up to his nose to smell before bringing it to his lips. He didn’t even finish half of it before he coughed, gagging as he held his throat.

‘What in heaven is that!’ He gasped out and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at the poor angel.

‘Oh my god you are too cute. Now I know you’ve never drank like this before.’ He looked over to you and gasped as he saw you down your shot smoothly and then take his to finish too.

‘That feels like you are trying to assert dominance or something.’

‘Why?’ You leaned in close and basically purred into his ear. ‘Do you like it when women dominate you?’

Last June, your company needed more investors. The money was running low, and everything was on edge. It’s the last hope, they said, sending a group of trusted employees abroad for the job.

You wished you were never chosen.

Jungkook had been your boyfriend for five years now—someone you met at a food court to someone you wouldn’t dare to be apart from. You two had come a long way.

So when the news came that you were chosen to go abroad, it was devastating.

That can’t happen… it’ll be too harsh on both of us… what if we break up? What if things don’t work out smoothly? What if everything goes wrong?

You had questions spiraling in your mind for days, weeks… a month even. It took you five whole weeks to finally break it to him.

But let’s just say his reaction only made things worse. He became more depressed than you were. Every time you mentioned it, his smile dropped. Every time you started packing, he would go deadly silent.

And when you finally departed? He was a crying mess.

Sniffling. Sobbing. Swiping tears—he did it all.

Therefore, when his birthday came, you didn’t tell anyone. You just silently booked flights back… and bought gifts. A birthday surprise.

You weren’t even fully inside the house yet—your hands barely left the doorknob—when strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Jungkook?” you breathed, startled by his suddenness.

“You came,” he beamed at you like a child, finally letting go and smiling at you with his bunny smile.

“Of course I did! I can’t miss it, can I?” you were practically trying to match his energy at this point—now just as excited as he was.

It made sense though. You’d spent two whole months apart. Seeing each other again on such a special occasion felt… right. Like nothing had ever gone wrong at work. Like you were never sent away. Like somehow, a birthday that came around every year—one that wasn’t even yours—could make you smile the brightest.

For the rest of the night, he bounced around the house—kitchen to living room, living room to kitchen—all over again. A bunny he was, that was no lie.

Unboxing gifts, answering calls from his hyungs… everything was going so smoothly. And then, it was time for your gift.

“It’s… small,” you mumbled. “I apologize—it was so sudden, I didn’t know what to get, and—”

And... his lips were on yours. Silencing you.

It was slow, deep, passionate. He was savoring every moment like if he pulled away, you’d grow wings and fly right back abroad.

“It doesn’t matter how big or small or whatever,” he murmured against your lips. “Having you here is the best gift I could ever get.”

You smiled at him, eyes teary, as he slowly unboxed what you’d prepared.

“Babe…” he whispered, eyes going wide as he held up a picture frame—your very first picture together on one side, your most recent one on the other. Side by side.

He traced it gently, memorizing every detail.

Until the clock showed 11:55. A five-minute countdown.

He froze immediately, eyes glued to the cake. Waiting.

11:56.

11:57.

11:58.

11:59.

00:00.

“BABE—I’M 28 NOW!” he shouted, setting the frame down before running to you, eyes sparkling as he leaned over the cake, smile impossibly wide.

“C’mon, make your wish, Kook,” you hushed softly.

It took him a while—longer than you thought it would. But afterward, he didn’t say a word about it. Just carried on celebrating with you before you both finally collapsed into bed, exhausted.

But you were still curious.

“Kook?” you whispered.

“Yes, babe?”

“Uhmm… if you don’t mind me asking… what did you wish for?”

He chuckled softly. “You know if wishes are told to someone, they’ll break, right?”

“…Oh.”

He turned to face you. “But I don’t mind. I know it won’t break—because what I wished for is unbreakable.”

There was a pause. Then he said it, raw and honest:

“I wished to marry you.”

You blinked, stunned—then the tears came.

He soothed you, thumb caressing your cheek as you cried softly into his chest.

You two had come a long way.

And though birthday wishes weren’t supposed to be said aloud, you trusted this one. You knew it would come true.

Because who would dare to break such a wish?

No one.

And you both knew that.

Kaycee barely opened her eyes to wince at her alarm clock. 3:15 AM. She was quite convinced she’d never get a full night of sleep again, but at least Emma wasn’t crying this time. That brought a little smile to her face. She turned over in bed to hold her husband close, only to find he wasn’t there.

So, that’s why Emma’s not crying.   

Tossing her legs over the bed, she pulled on her robe and slid her feet into her slippers. Yawning, she shuffled down the hall to the nursery to check in on her two favorite people. But as she neared the room, she stepped to the side, leaning in to hear better and doing her best to remain undetected. Her husband was having a conversation with their little girl, and she had to know what he was saying.

“… and that’s how I met your mommy. Now, repeat after me, Emma… thoracotomy. I know it sounds big and scary, but if you break it down….”

Kaycee covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, then she went back to listening as Emma cooed gibberish at her dad.

“Ah – ba- boo- ah – boo – ab.”

“Oh, Emma,” Ethan sighed, “I have to admit I’m a little disappointed. Ahbabooahbooab sounds nothing like thoracotomy. Try again… thor-a-cot-o-my. Try again.”

But little Emma let out another stream of incomprehensible noises, followed by a rather amusing raspberry.

“Emma, this will reflect poorly on your college applications….”

“Ethan Johan Ramsey,” Kaycee chuckled upon entering, “what are you doing to our little girl?”

“I’m trying to give her a leg up on the MCATs. It’s never too soon.”

“Hi, pretty girl!” Kaycee beamed as she lifted Emma out of Ethan’s arms, then sat on his lap. The grin on his face was broader than he ever thought he could smile. Cuddling his beloved wife and baby girl in his arms, he paused to take it all in… he was sure there were few moments in life that would be more perfect than this.

“Didn’t we discuss not putting pressure on her to be the best at everything, dear?” Kaycee began.

“Yes, but I….”

“And we also said she can choose her own path? She’s not required to go into medicine like us.”

“I know, but….”

“But you were teaching her to say thoracotomy at 6 months of age?”

“Be kind to me,” Ethan yawned. “It’s the middle of the night, and I have to go with what I know.”

“Fine,” Kaycee sighed with amusement. “I’ll let it go this time.”

“Well, look at that,” Ethan marveled, looking over his wife’s shoulder. “She’s fast asleep. She just wanted her mommy.”

“Nonsense! You were doing perfectly fine when I walked in!”

“Mmm.  But perhaps you are right. Medical procedures might be too stimulating for 3:00 AM conversations. Next time, I’ll keep it to puppies and fairy tales.”

“That’s more like it, Ramsey! What do you say we put her in her crib and try to get some sleep ourselves?”

“I’m all for it, Rookie.”

Ethan watched as Kaycee put Emma on her back in the crib. After quietly raising the rail and checking the baby monitor, she extended her hand for Ethan to join her. Wearily walking back to their bedroom Kaycee looked up to her husband.

“Did you ever think this would be your life, Dr. Ramsey?”

Ethan’s yawn quickly turned into a snortle. “No. Never in a million years, but,” he stalled to take Kaycee in his arms, “I’m so happy it did.”

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Y/n’s head snapped up, turning to face him, her eyes wide, “Doing what? I’m not doing anything!” She frowned, though she knew exactly what he was talking about; Y/n hand been wringing her fingers since they were in the car, on the way to the studio. Walter had been her manager since she started her career at sixteen and knew her almost as well as her own father; he could tell when she was doing one of her nervous ticks, even the subtle ones.

The graying man chuckled, offering her one of the disposable cups filled with coffee, which might not have been the best choice of beverage when one was already vibrating with nervous anticipation, “Here, drink this. And try not to spill anything on that top; Grace,” her stylist, “Will kill us both if you do.”

“I won’t,” Y/n grumbled, “I’m not a kid, you know,” she rolled her eyes, bringing the scalding hot latte to her lips.

“Relax,” Walter went on, “I know,” he sighed, drinking from his own coffee before he continued, “I guess I’m nervous too, my wife says that I micro-manage when I’m nervous.”

At that, Y/n chuckled and slowly, the knot in her stomach starting to loosen, “She’s right. The last time we were here you kept asking me if I was sure I wasn’t cold.”

“It was raining and the A.C was on,” he defended, “What the hell is taking them so long?”  Walter grumbled lowly after a couple minutes.

“We’re early,” Y/n reminded, “There’s still,” she glanced at her phone in her lap, “Fifteen minutes.”

Sighing again, Walter didn’t respond, opting to deal with a few emails on his own phone; getting back to other clients and organizing her appearances for the week.

Keanu stood, near his car, smoking a cigarette while browsing through the excerpt of the script that they were using that morning. He had already read it through a couple times earlier that week but wanted to be sure that he had everything right. The scene was supposed to be the one where his character would meet his co-star’s; Y/n Y/l/n.

Prior to that day, Keanu had heard of the young girl and had seen her on television interviews in passing. Up until then, she had starred in drama series called Behind Lipstick which chronicled the life of a young model combating struggles with addiction, her mental health issues and the pressure of fame in the superficial world she lived in. Keanu himself had never watched the series but his sisters loved it and Y/n had even won a few Emmy's and Golden Globes for her performance. 

The film was supposed to be her introduction to the ‘movie’ side of things and while Keanu was excited and honored to star alongside her what was to be a milestone in her career, finding out that she was also supposed to be his love interest in the movie was still something that he was having trouble getting used to. She was just so young; twenty-two seemed so far away from fifty-five. “Hollywood has a daddy kink,” is what his agent had said when Keanu had first found out and while he could certainly see the appeal, he wasn’t sure if working with a woman that young was his wisest move. 

“Keanu!” Someone called from behind him, and he shook off his thoughts as the familiar female voice grew closer, “They’re almost ready to start.”

It was his agent Eleanor, a woman just about his age, who Keanu had worked with for most of his career, “Yeah, okay,” Keanu pushed off the side of his black Porsche, tossing the stub of his smoke to the ground stomping it out with the toe of his worn boot. At an unhurried pace, Keanu shoved his phone into his pocket, joining Eleanor as she headed back towards the large building in the near distance.

“Are you ready?” Walter asked quietly, close to Y/n’s ear as they took their seats at the long, varnished table. The conference room that the director had instructed them to meet at was a large one, with floor to ceiling windows that let the bright L.A sunshine in, the hint of warmth mellowing out the air-conditioning. It was a huge contrast from the window-less, flat-toned minimalist room that Y/n had auditioned in a few months prior.

“Of course,” Y/n nodded, shifting in the cushions of the leather chair. Laid out in the center table were several varieties of refreshments; hot water and over turned cups for tea and coffee, and a selection of finger foods. Though everything looked inviting, Y/n wouldn’t say it out loud, but she was far to nervous to eat and was certain that any more coffee would have her bouncing off the walls. 

Closer to the edges of the table, nearer to the seats; were copies of the script along with pencils. Not too long after Y/n and Walter had taken their place, an older woman in a well-fitting pale pink skirt suit, her heels clicking softly of the black tiles, entered. Close behind her, a taller man with dark hair falling just past his ears walked in, looking like every sin in a movie where the girl next door falls in love with the older man who just moved in; wearing a sport coat over the plain black t-shirt and dark jeans. Keanu fucking Reeves. He was still wearing his sunglasses, though the minute he walked in, he removed them, hooking the Prada shades on the ‘v’ of his t-shirt.

For some reason, though Y/n knew that they’d be in the movie together, she was still a little in awe of his presence at their scheduled table read. ‘Awe’ that Walter would argue was vastly misplaced; she had earned her place in Hollywood and through she hadn’t been in the business for as long as Keanu had , certainly her status should have granted her some immunity to being star-struck. If only that were true. 

Quietly, greetings were exchanged and to her surprise, Keanu took the seat directly to her left, shifting awkwardly to offer his hand, “Keanu,” he said briskly.

I know were the words she almost stuttered, but thankfully, she was able to sum up enough courage and push away her initial ‘breathless wonder’ and coolly return, “Y/n, it’s nice to meet you,” she smiled politely. Keanu’s hand was large, easily swallowing hers up and was rougher than she expected, though the little embrace was still warm, welcoming and seemed genuine. 

At that, Keanu returned her smile with a faint one of his own, “The pleasure is mine,” he assured her. So he really was as humble as they said. 

The end of their introduction was met with a bout of awkward silence; Y/n was too shy to initiate a conversation and Keanu couldn’t think of a thing that he’d have to talk about with a girl her age. When the director; Jackson Gardener, a known name in the genre, walked in, they both straightened in their seats and quickly, another round of introductions were exchanged. 

Sinking into his seat, Jackson glanced between the two, pushing up his black-framed glassed up onto the bridge of his nose with the joint of his thumb. Jackson’s whitish-grey hair stuck out widely on all sides, looking severely wind tousled and his beard seemed to be overgrown. “I see you two have met,” he said, gruff and absent, shoving up the sleeves of his charcoal sweater, “Good,” he nodded, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get into this.”

Y/n’s lips quivered; was he really just going to get started, no setting the scene, no background on their roles and not even a hint of what he was expecting from them? She was about to speak up, ask a question or two, when, surprisingly, Keanu put a tentative palm on her jean clad thigh, his eyes barely meeting hers as if to say, ‘its not worth it.’

Sucking in a nervous breath, Y/n nodded slightly in understanding, grateful that Keanu had possibly just saved her skin. Even after he moved his hand, the warmth of it lingered on Y/n’s leg and she had to fight the feeling that came with the thought of Keanu’s hands on her. Y/n wondered if every other woman who had come in contact with him felt like that. Trying to ignore the whole thing, she picked up the script and tried to immerse herself in the role, hoping that her flustered feelings weren’t seeping through. 

Thankfully, the table read was over in just under and hour and while Jackson’s praises were limited and were delivered with his same stoic tone and un-meeting eyes, he had been kind enough to let everyone go shortly after it was over, with promises that they’d all meet in the near future on location. 

Y/n was a few paces behind Walter in the parking lot when someone jogged up beside her, his long legs easily bringing him into pace with her steps; Keanu. “Hey,” he said, an she nearly jumped.

For the briefest second, Walter slowed down to turn round and look at them, though, quickly dismissing his concern when he saw it was Keanu. “Hey,” Y/n tried to smile, combating the reappearance of her nerves, “Uh....what’s up?” She couldn’t believe that he was speaking to her. Why was he speaking to her?

Keanu’s hands were in his pockets and his sunglasses blocked out the sun from his eyes, not mention adding to his cool, suave appearance. How could one man be afforded the opportunity to look that good in his fifties?

He towered over her, though Y/n supposed it was because she had opted to pair her light-washed ripped jeans and stylish button up with flat pumps, not aiding her small stature. Maybe it was because she was so nervous, or maybe it was just a part his nature that didn’t translate through the camera during interviews, but Keanu seemed more confident that she’d thought he’d be, seemingly not noticing what a nervous mess he was making of her. 

Removing one hand from his pocket to rake his nails through his short beard, Keanu thought on his words for a moment, before he eventually spoke again, “I just wanted to let you know; working with Jackson is gonna be a little tough; he can be kind of an asshole sometimes,” that was something she had quickly caught on to, “But don’t let him spook you, he’s really just one of those ‘crazed artist types’; lots of talk, loads of talent, but sometimes his head is so far up his ass that he forgets that he’s working with actual people,” at that, Keanu chuckled quietly, “The point is; don’t let him get to you. And if you wanna talk, I’d be happy to listen.”

They were approaching a black SUV and Walter was already waiting at the back door for Y/n, though, she knew that he’d give her the space that she needed. “Sure,” Y/n blushed despite herself, “Thanks.”

“No problem, why don’t you take my number, and I’ll take yours?” Keanu had already gotten his phone out and Y/n took a minute to do the same. Briefly, they exchanged devices and by extension; contacts. “Alright,” Keanu determined, reclaiming his cell, “Well, I've gotta get going, but I’ll see you around Y/n,” he quickly patted her shoulder and was already turning to walk off before she could muster up a dumbfounded goodbye.

She had just traded numbers with the Keanu Reeves.

It was about to be an eventful three months.

******