Tumgik
#I didn't know what to call them in the description..
fluentmoviequoter · 2 days
Text
What I Didn't Know I Had
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!pregnant!wife!reader
Summary: You get shot, and Tim nearly loses something he didn't know he had.
Warnings: angst, r is shot, fluffy comfort and soft Tim at the end
Word Count: 1.7k+ words
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
Tumblr media
“I’ll catch up,” you tell Tim.
He nods once and tunes out Lucy as she walks beside him. The bullpen is crowded because of a busy day in Los Angeles, but you have something more important on your mind.
“Angela, can we talk?” you ask as you approach her desk.
“Of course,” she answers. “Is everything okay? Baby okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re good.” You lay your hand over your not yet existent bump and smile. “I’m ready to tell Tim, but I want to surprise him with the pregnancy announcement. He’s not… conventional, right? So, I just wanted to ask if you had any ideas for how I can tell him, how I can make it special?”
“Not conventional is certainly a good description of Tim Bradford,” Angela agrees playfully. “Honestly, you know better than I do what he’d consider to be special. I think you should tell him sooner rather than later.”
You nod and look over your shoulder toward Tim. He deserves a memorable announcement; it’s his first child and he’s going to be an amazing father, so you want to make sure he knows that.
“Blue and pink target practice,” Angela suggests. “Nothing like a gun range jump scare.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Wade yells your name, and you thank Angela before you return to the crowd of police officers. He says your name again before he adds, “Bradford, Nolan, and Chen, we’ve got a domestic call off Wilshire. Take care of that and get back here. ACH!”
“Anything can happen,” Lucy murmurs. “But it’s never fun.”
“ACHBINF,” Nolan agrees.
“Are you okay?” Tim asks as he falls into step beside you.
“Yeah, I’m good. Love this time of year when we have to send two cops to a call and two cops to protect the others,” you reply.
“Hey, what’s it like being married?” Lucy asks as you enter the garage.
“Depends on the marriage,” Nolan answers. “Why? Are you getting married?”
“Not today,” Lucy answers. “Just curious.”
“Nolan’s right,” Tim agrees. “It depends on the marriage.”
“I love being married,” you tell her. “But it’s nothing to rush into.”
“I just want to meet someone,” Lucy groans. “And you guys are no help.”
“Yeah, I married my partner,” you say, winking at Tim.
“And Nolan’s divorced,” Tim points out.
“Okay!” you announce. “Before this gets worse and turns into a competition of who has or had the better marriage – because it’s me and Tim – we need to go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucy agrees. “ACHBINF.”
Tim grunts as he slams the car door, and you smile. As long as that isn’t his response to your pregnancy announcement, you’re amused by his grumpiness.
Tumblr media
“There’s nobody here,” Tim says as he looks through a dirty window.
“This is the address. They said they were watching the argument from across the street,” you explain. “So, it’s either a setup or a prank.”
“Bradford!” Nolan calls as he moves out of the yard. “There’s a black SUV moving slowly toward us.”
“Tell dispatch, and get through to Grey,” Tim demands. “Stay down.”
You move with Tim, staying low as you move toward the shop. The black SUV is several houses away, but it only rolls a foot or so before it stops for thirty seconds, then moves again.
“Option 3, someone’s trying to steal a stick shift and can’t drive it,” you joke.
“It’s never that easy,” Tim replies.
“ACHBINF?” you ask.
“Don’t,” Tim murmurs as he watches the car. “We need to make contact before they get close enough to do something.”
“I can go through yards and come up behind them.”
“No, we don’t know what the back looks like. Nolan, where are you and Chen?”
“Behind the shop,” Nolan answers. “On the other side of the street from you.”
“Stay in position,” Tim radios.
A shot fires somewhere nearby, but it echoes so you can’t tell where it originated from.
“The car’s a distraction,” you and Tim say together.
“Backup is two minutes out,” Lucy calls over the radio. “We don’t have time!”
“I’m shooting at the SUV,” Tim tells you. “Cover me.”
You trade places with Tim and press your back to the shop as you cover him. Before you can alert Tim of movement beside the house you were called to, someone fires again. You feel the sting of the bullet against your vest but rise to your knees and return fire. Tim notices your movement and lowers beside you. When the shooter drops his gun and tips back, Tim rushes to him as Lucy and Nolan run to stop the black SUV. You lean back against the shop and run your hand over your uniform. It’s tinted red with blood when you pull it back, and you gently press your fingers against your side. The bullet missed your vest by less than an inch, and your first thought is that the bullet may have gone in sideways.
“No, no, no,” you whisper as you press your hands to your lower stomach.
With the pressure, your bleeding increases with nothing to stop it. Tim rounds the corner of the house with the shooter in handcuffs but pushes him to the ground when he sees you. You’re losing blood quickly, and Tim sees your hands in the wrong place, which immediately concerns him. If you didn’t tell him you were shot and are causing it to bleed more, you must be in shock or hemorrhaging.
“Nolan, get over here!” Tim radios.
He kneels beside you and presses his hands to your side as you try to force a hand under your vest.
“Get me an ambulance!” Tim demands. “Officer down!”
“Tim, I’m pregnant,” you blurt out. “You have to make sure the baby is okay.”
Tim shakes his head and tells you to stay calm. Nolan loads the shooter into the back of his shop and tells Tim the ambulance is approaching.
“Promise you’ll make sure the baby’s okay,” you repeat.
She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, Tim thinks. That thought only increases his worry because you’re losing blood and not making any sense.
“What happened?” the paramedic asks as he approaches your side.
“GSW to her side,” Tim replies.
Your eyes flutter closed as they wrap your side, and you don’t mention ‘the baby’ again. Tim asks the paramedic which hospital you are going to and follows your ambulance in his shop. As he drives, he wonders where the “I’m pregnant” announcement came from. It’s something he wants but hearing it because you were losing blood causes his hands to shake. He reminds himself to focus and control his emotions as he parks and runs into the emergency room entrance.
Tumblr media
“Office Bradford?” a doctor asks.
“Yes, sir,” Tim responds as he stands. “How is she?”
“She’s perfectly fine. The bullet was through and through with very little tissue damage, so we cleaned and stitched the wound, and she’ll be free to go after some observation. And the baby is perfectly safe as well, Officer.”
“Baby?” Tim repeats. “She’s pregnant?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I assumed you knew. Yes, sir, she’s about seven weeks pregnant. You can go in if you’d like.”
“Thank you.”
The short walk to your room feels like a marathon, and Tim’s mind races with each step. You should have told Tim; you have a dangerous job, and he needs to know. Tim takes a deep breath before he opens the door and steps into your room.
“You really meant that,” he says.
You look up and tug your bottom lip between your teeth before you release it to speak. “Yeah, I did. I wanted to surprise you, and I was going to do it later today, but… you know.”
“You have to tell me this stuff,” Tim says gently. “I didn’t know. And I- if something had happened, I wouldn’t have known. I’m supposed to keep you safe, but I can’t do that if I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “Surprise?”
Tim rolls his eyes as he takes your hand. He lays your joined hands over your stomach, avoiding your stitches.
“I was terrified,” you whisper. “There wasn’t a way to tell where it went, and if I’d lost-“
Tim shushes you gently and sits on the edge of your bed. He moves a hand to your jaw and brushes his thumb over your cheek.
“I get it. The doctor told me the baby was fine, and it suddenly crashed down on me. That fear that I could’ve lost something I didn’t know I had hit me, even after I knew you were both okay.”
You nod and turn your chin. Tim kisses you softly, and you whisper another apology against his lips.
“What do you need?” he asks.
“A hug, mostly,” you say lightly.
“I was hoping you’d say you were ready to get out of here.”
“Oh, we’re both very ready to get out of here,” you agree.
Tumblr media
Tim helps you get comfortable on the couch after you arrive home, and you twirl your wedding ring around your finger. He returns a moment later, and when you pull your knees up to give him room to sit beside you, he huffs. Carefully, he lifts your ankles and lays your legs back in your original, comfortable position. Tim lays with you rather than sitting beside you, and you happily turn into his arm. He drags his fingertips along your spine, over your shoulders, and back down. His other hand lays against your side, and he drops his hand to where your baby is growing.
“You’re getting soft,” you murmur.
“Just for you two. And we both need this,” he replies.
“I have an appointment next week, and I want you to be there.”
“I’ll be right here,” he promises. “Can’t trust you to tell me anything important,” he jokes.
You try to push him away, but Tim grabs your wrists and carefully pulls you with him as he rolls. He barely manages to catch both himself and you as he nearly falls off the couch.
“Surprise?” he asks, repeating your earlier comment.
He kisses you before you can say anything else, and when his hands wander to your stomach, you know that you were right about what a great father he will be.
124 notes · View notes
vickyvicarious · 2 days
Text
Jonathan's description of the Romani people is certainly full of racist stereotypes. But it also reads to me as something he's reciting; as he says, he has notes of them "in my book." His words here seem to be him copying down something he's read in a book (whether here or in his research before he left). It's completely uncritical, but aligns with his earlier notes about history.
Even though he writes that they "attach themselves as a rule to some noble" he's not certain that they will turn him in to Dracula. He guards against the possibility of course, with his shorthand, and does mention that possibility of "should [the letters] not send," but he still willingly took the risk. Of course, it's really the only thing he can do, so even if he fully believes the stereotypes he's got to try anyway. Certainly though, I think he would be willing to alter his beliefs should they act in a way that contradicts what he has heard.
From his perspective, they... don't, at least today. Dracula coming back with the letters could easily be explained by them taking his money and then giving him up. But I choose to believe that they really did try to help him. They might have brought Dracula the letters because he's the only one who knows English. Or, more likely if they know he is a vampire and work for him at least partially out of fear, they intended to hide it but Dracula heard Jonathan calling down to them/saw him throwing something and asked about it. Or so on. There are several different ways they could have wanted to help Jonathan but still have been forced to give his messages to the Count. There's no evidence against such an interpretation, and it is not only better because it's not a racist stereotype, but it also fits the themes of the story and the pattern of humans trying to help one another as well.
However, I can't help but note that Dracula also calls them "Szgany". I didn't know this for a long time, but at some point last year I heard that term is not referring to a specific group of people. Instead it appears to be a phonetic spelling of a slur:
Cigan/Tsigan      Term used to describe Roma. Amongst most Romani communities this is a highly offensive racial slur. It originates from the Greek word "atsinganoi" meaning "untouchable". (from the European Roma Rights Centre)
This is awful, but perfectly in character for Dracula. He looks down on humans in general, and is clearly dismissive of 'peasants' at other times. It also would make sense for him to intentionally reinforce negative stereotypes about them in order to degrade any trust between Jonathan and other people. He did something similar when he called the other locals superstitious peasants.
It's possible that at least some of Jonathan's information about these people comes from Dracula himself, or at least has been 'confirmed' by him. Even if that's not the case, it makes sense that Dracula would be aware of any negative reputation and I could see him playing into it in any conversation or potentially in any interactions he thinks Jonathan can see.
48 notes · View notes
1tsteatime · 2 days
Text
REFERENCE TO JON AND MARTIN IN EPISODE 17
RIGHT HELLO I NEED TO KNOW I'M NOT CRAZY HERE.
I loved episode 17, and this isn't even to talk about the VERY interesting details to do with Celia at the start, and the jmj error at the end (trust me, those are whole crates of worms to be opened), but this post in particular is about a very quick, very sly detail at the start of the statement.
Allow me, if you will, to quote directly from the transcript:
"Anyway, there was a new receptionist behind the old front desk, some big, soft-looking guy who stumbled over every word. A year ago, it would probably have wound me right up, but what can I say? Therapy works.
There was another patient too, some bookish-looking guy with serious city miles. I used to play the game “what are you in for,” where I would pass the time guessing… well. You know. In my head he was definitely some kind of weird pervert, really into stroking orchids or something."
PLEASE TELL ME I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE HEARING SEASON 1 JON AND MARTIN? Let's check the list:
Big, soft looking guy: that runs true with every canon description we've heard about Martin, not to mention ALL the fanart. Not to conflate fanon with canon, but here it's pretty cut and dry. Besides, 'stumbled over every word'? Now that is Martin to a tee, particularly in season 1.
Bookish-looking guy: oh, it's not like we know a certain stuffy archivist who is known for saying 'good lord' and describing merry-go-rounds as 'thrilling'. Again, I'm not saying those are the same thing but COME ON. The next bit is also interesting: 'serious city miles'. That can refer to someone who looks rough due to life incidents or substance use, and we do know that Jon is a smoker. The stroking orchids bit I have no clue about, likely just a funny line.
Their roles in this cameo are interesting as well; Martin as a receptionist and Jon as a patient. Besides thinking of a dozen fanfic AUs that would leap from this topic, it sort of reverses the power dynamic? Well, not exactly, but the roles do make sense given what we know about them: Martin being very caring and compassionate, but not the most qualified, and Jon's mental state being...less than stellar, this totally checks out.
Now, I'm not banking any firm theories on this; honestly I think we're still too early in the podcast to have a semblance of the 'real' plot, but if this is foreshadowing instead of just a cute nod to the characters, here is the proposal I'll make:
What if the dimension shifting didn't happen perfectly? This episode already deals with identity, and body vs mind vs soul. What if that is Jon and Martin's actual bodies, but their souls got separated? Now these incorporeal souls need a host...maybe an old computer database? What if those 'city miles' weren't just any old marks, but worm holes, desolation burns, our Jon's scars and wounds. What if their bodies have forgotten what happened to them?
There is a good chance that this goes totally nowhere. Still though, I'm calling it early. So excited to see where this all goes!
26 notes · View notes
sleepyseals · 11 months
Photo
Tumblr media
[Image Description: A digital painting of the shrouded woodlands from outer wilds. One of the wooden hand devices stands across the water. In front of it is a short dock with a single lit candle on the right railing. There are faintly lit tree branches above the scene. In the sky above the trees are many stars and the distant horizon is visible on the right of the image, lightening blue with dawn. End Image Description.]
game study from april ^^
88 notes · View notes
sherlock-is-ace · 25 days
Text
.
#welcome to another installment of: angel spits out all his thoughts about autism cause if he keeps them inside his head will explode#in today's episode: is it possible that my ''panic attacks'' have been autistic meltdowns all this time?#then answer is maybe!#ok so i was watching this youtube video from channel I'm autisticn now what? (check it out it's great!)#and meg was talking about the different types of autistic meltdowns and how they might manifest#and then in the comments people were discussing autistic meltdowns vs panic attacks and how cofused they used to be about them#and that got me thinking... there's a big thing that needs to happen during a panic attack for it to be a panic attack#and that is anxious thoughts... many people talk about fear of death during panic attacks#and that was never my experience. I don't feel like I'm going to die when I have these ''attacks''#they feel painful and like i'm completely out of control but my head is quite clear in that regard#i always thought it was because i don't think dying is like The Worst thing that could happen to me so maybe that was why#and it never ocurred to me that it could be an autistic meltdown because i always saw those as ''little boy hits his head against the wall'#(horrible i know) but it's more than that! (plus i sadly started self harming when the ''attack'' is too bad so not i fit that idea lol)#it's the uncontrollable crying. the throwing anything you have at hand across the room. the not being able to utter words#(other than ''no'' in my case) it's the complete lack of control#and that fits so much more to what i experience! i even related to meg's personal anecdote about a meltdown she had as a child#being separated from my mom made me go into full panic modes as a kid and that was seen as a tantrum but it was more than that to me!#and as an added bonus the only therapist i've ever seen in my life used to call my panic attacks ''pseudo-panic attacks''#because even she felt it didn't quite fit in the description (not that she was a good therapist so i can't put her as an example lol)#but anyways... yeah every day that goes by i'm more and more convinced I am autistic and it scares me to fucking death#because of the way my mom reacted when i first raised the question. so yeah this is for nothing lol nothing will change in my life#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#angel talks#personal
3 notes · View notes
aeide-thea · 2 years
Text
today i would like to single out for hate and derision the thing where people will say, like, 'and so-and-so has two beautiful daughters,' where the word 'beautiful' is just, like, an automatic complement to the word 'daughter' and gets tacked onto it without any conscious consideration of the girl in question whatsoever
14 notes · View notes
ktempestbradford · 3 months
Text
I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me
It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:
At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.
On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."
Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:
Tumblr media
But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It gets worse.
"Tempest, how could it possibly--"
source of this video that also includes this charming description:
Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'
There is already a meme.
Tumblr media
Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:
Tumblr media
Who has already done an interview!
As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!
Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.
The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.
Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!
Tumblr media
I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.
Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:
Tumblr media
I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.
Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:
Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.
Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.
Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.
Tumblr media
I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.
This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.
Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:
Tumblr media
With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"
"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:
Tumblr media
There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.
The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.
Even better, this weirdly grainy image?
Tumblr media
From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.
If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.
As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.
And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...
Tumblr media
This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.
Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.
As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...
Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.
Tumblr media
You cannot make this stuff up.
But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.
Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.
Tumblr media
HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.
8K notes · View notes
violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months
Text
Decoy [S. R.]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 6.9k
summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.
warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension
Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case
Tumblr media
You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.
You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.
All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.
But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.
"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.
“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”
"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"
“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.
“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.
Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.
“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”
"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”
“We can use our own team”
"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"
"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"
"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”
“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.
"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.
Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids. 
You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.
“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it. 
"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.
"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.
He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.
At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.
The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.
Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.
"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.
“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"
"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying” 
"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.
You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.
We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.
Tumblr media
As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.
Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.
Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.
When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.
"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"
"And meanwhile what do we do?"
"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"
“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.
“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"
“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"
“When the suspect approaches, yes”
"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.
My God, could that man make you more nervous?
When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.
"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"
"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."
"What's wrong with my hair?"
"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"
“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”
"This is not a play"
"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”
"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.
“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”
“I actually know some good ones”
"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."
"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"
"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?
Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.
“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.
You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.
“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.
“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."
"Why you said so?"
“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.
"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."
“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.
"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"
"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."
You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.
“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."
"I am nervous"
"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"
"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"
"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"
"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"
"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"
"Smooch me?"
"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.
"That's not a picnic, Y/N"
You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.
You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.
"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.
"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.
"Is that our unsub?"
"It is"
You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.
"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.
“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"
"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.
You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?
"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.
You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.
“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.
You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements. 
It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.
There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.
The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.
“He started the trailer. He's going to go"
Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.
Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.
"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.
"Take... what?"
"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"
But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you. 
He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit. 
His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.
You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.
Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.
As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.
"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.
That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin. 
And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.
You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.
Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.
From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.
"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.
"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.
You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.
"How are you?"
"Very good, excellent" you stammered.
You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.
After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.
"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.
“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"Don't you even dare make fun of this"
“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."
"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.
Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.
"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?" 
"Fine, and you?"
"Fine too"
You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.
"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"
"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?
Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.
"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"
“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”
"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."
“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.
While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.
"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.
“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”
“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."
"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"
“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"
"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"
Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.
“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”
“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."
You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.
"Then I'd love to, Reid."
“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"
“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.
It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.
“Today?”
"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.
“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”
It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.
Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.
"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"
"It did"
"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.
Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.
"Do you want to go after work, then?"
“Sounds good to me”
Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.
So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.
12K notes · View notes
msgexymunson · 6 months
Text
Soft Touches
Description: you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.
Warnings: acquaintances to lovers, reader is AFAB, weed smoking (both parties so no real dub con), fem oral receiving, praise kink, p in v unprotected sex.
A/N: It's my birthday! And I'm high, and horny, so happy birthday! If you've read my work you KNOW I'm a sucker for the first time y/n fucks Eddie. When I'm a benevolent dictator it shall be a universal holiday ;)
4k words
Masterlist
“Eddie, what the hell was in that?” 
Floating in a cloud of your high, the entire room seemed to glow in pink and orange, senses tinged in a sunset glow. You were definitely stoned out of your tree if you were comparing Eddie's stuffy, cramped room to a breath-taking sunset. 
“It's a new strain I got from Rick. You feeling it?” 
“Oh, I'm feeling it alright. I can hear colours.” 
Eddie's rich laugh echoed off the walls of his trailer. He laid on the bed casually, one arm slung beneath his head making his tight t-shirt ride up slightly. Just a peek of his happy trail was on display, which you tried, and failed, not to stare at. 
It was proving difficult, especially since you sat criss-cross apple sauce on his floor. His body was eye level, handcuff belt shining softly in the low light. The glint of that drew your eyes even lower, concentrating on the bulge you could see in his jeans.
You thought you were being sneaky. You absolutely were not. 
“Hey, sweetheart, you gonna answer me or just stare at my dick?” 
“Huh?” 
Shaking your head as if to clear it, you finally met his gaze. 
“I said, you can come lay up here if you want.” 
Halfway between getting up and still in a weird little crouch his words finally filtered through your addled brain. 
“I wasn't staring at your dick!” 
“Whatever you say, baby girl.” 
Frozen, mind empty of comebacks, you clambered out of your goblin stance and stood up, when the blood decided to rush to your head. 
“Oh Holy shit.” 
Your knees buckled, and you would have ended up face first on Eddie's carpet if he hadn't caught you. 
“Easy there, I've got you.” 
Eddie's firm hands held your upper arms tightly as he manoeuvred you to sit on his bed. The room was spinning, everything was drifting out of focus. 
“I need to lie down.” 
Eddie pulled you towards his pillows and laid you down gently, picking your legs up and settling them on the bed with you. Staring up at his off white ceiling, things began to drift back in. Once the room finally stopped swooping around in your vision, you started to come to your senses. 
You are on Eddie Munson's bed. You knew him, sure, only in a ‘can I come round so you can smoke us out and listen to music’ kind of way. You'd hardly call him a friend. This though, feeling the heat of his body next to you, him leaning on his side staring at you worriedly seemed entirely outside of your current arrangement. 
Suddenly the air was stifling, Eddie's warmth only exacerbating the matter. 
“You alright?” 
“Yeah, just really warm. And fucking high.” 
Eddie laughed, relieved.
“Thank fuck, I was scared for a minute.” 
You fumbled at the hem of your oversized sweater, attempting to wriggle it up your body but all motor skills were beyond you right now. 
“Eddie.” You pouted at him, flapping the edge of your sweater with frustrated hands. 
“You want this off?” 
“Please.” 
He flashed you a mischievous grin and pulled up upright, beginning to draw the offensive sweater up and over your form. 
“Didn't think you'd be begging me to undress you sweetheart.” 
Rolling your eyes in response, you held your arms over your head like a petulant toddler. Sweater removed and tossed to the foot of the bed, you risked a glance at Eddie. He was entirely preoccupied, staring at your bare midriff that was now on display. 
“It's a crop top Eddie, get over it.” 
Flinging yourself back down on the pillow, Eddie coughed, looking a little flustered, and settled in next to you. 
“Sorry, I didn't expect it. You always wear baggy shit.” 
“Comfortable shit, thank you. I come here to smoke, it's not New York fashion week.”
Eddie ran a finger across you, just below your belly button. The barely there touch blazed across your skin. 
“I didn't know you had your belly button pierced.” 
Looking down, you watch as his fingers circle it, then flick the little jewel dangling off the end. Thighs clamping together out of sheer necessity, you attempt to ignore it. 
“Yeah, got it done when I was like 15, two towns over. Probably my least painful piercing. Apart from ears, of course.”
Apparently, Rick's new strain also makes you run your mouth, as well as being insanely warm and horny. It seemed you had captured Eddie's attention. He turned further towards you, one hand holding his head up. The other, much to your relief, stayed on your stomach. You're not sure he was even aware he was still stroking your skin. 
“Least painful? What other piercings do you have?” 
You seriously considered dodging the question, but it's difficult to be devious directly to those big wet eyes of his. It's like trying to lie to a baby cow. 
“Well, I got my nose done, but the piercing fell out and I didn't bother to get a new one. That one stung. But the worst had to be my… my nipples.” 
The whole bed lurched as Eddie jumped up and sat cross legged facing you. He practically flew into action, grabbing his cigarettes and a lighter as if you were about to tell him some epic tale. 
“Right, tell me everything.” 
Whilst laughing at his wide eyed expression, you realise he's being completely serious. 
“Well, they er, they like, sanitise the… area, draw a dot where they're going to pierce you and tell you to take a deep breath in and it's done. It's super quick actually. It's more the after part that hurts. Why are you interested?” 
Eddie pushes his hair behind one ear, the tip of it is glowing scarlet, you notice. 
“I was thinking about getting it done my last birthday but I didn't have the cash.” 
He's staring at you, nervously chewing on a hang nail. You can practically see the unasked question dancing on his tongue. You weren't going to offer, hell no. If he wants to see he has to ask. The thing is, the way your tummy is bubbling right now, you don't think you could say no to those eyes of his. 
The question remains unsaid. He merely offers you a drag on his cigarette which you take gratefully, before he's stubbing it out and laying back down next to you. 
“How you feeling now? Bit less baked?” 
“Oh I'm still fucked, but I can see straight and I don't feel sick.” 
His fingers begin their dance again, skating over your exposed flesh, stroking down your side to your hip, across your stomach, and back again. You want to mention it. He's never touched you like this before, but you also don't want him to stop. 
“Good. Not inviting you over again if you hurl on my bed.” 
Giggling, you turn and face him. You're both on your sides now, knees close to knocking. His shirts ridden up again and before you can even register what you're doing you've placed a delicate hand on his hip. His eyes widened briefly, but that's it. Both of you are touching the others bare flesh, whispers of touches. Little, tentative things, like the bursting of soap bubbles on skin. 
“I wouldn't hurl on your bed. I'm sure I'd at least make it to the bathroom. I'm not an animal.” 
Eddie just grins in response, and you look at each other, really look. His dopey smile is the same as yours, and it seems neither of you want to mention how this seems to be rolling into very unfamiliar territory. 
“Eddie?” 
“Hmm?” 
“Why are you touching me?” 
He pushes infinitesimally closer, his knee now slotting between yours. It's a small gesture, but suddenly the situation feels even more intimate than before. 
“Because. Because it feels good. You're soft, and warm. And you keep making little noises.” 
“I do?” 
He smooths his hand higher, thumb dragging along the underside of your breast, and you let out a tiny, quivering whimper.
“See? Like that.” 
Opening your legs slightly wider, Eddie's knee pushes naturally further forward, his thigh now wedged between yours. His breath is fanning your nose; cigarettes, weed, and sweet snacks. 
“So sweetheart, why are you touching me?” 
Your hand presses a little more firmly, snaking underneath the hem of his shirt. With no complaint forthcoming, you reach further up, stroking his side, up over his ribs, and back down again. He responds in kind. Every kiss of fingers is electrifying, filling the room with a soft, dense tension. 
“Because it feels good. Because I saw a bit of skin and I couldn't resist.” 
“Yeah?” He's smirking as he says it, but you're beyond playing games at this point. 
“Yeah.” 
“I didn't know I was irresistible.”
You pinch his skin a little and he stares at you like you just betrayed him. 
“I didn't say that, you're twisting my words.” 
“Pretty sure I heard-” 
Cutting him off with a tickle to the ribs, he grabs your hand to stop you. 
“OK, OK! You were right, I was wrong. Nice touches again please.” 
His hand swiftly makes its way back to your skin and you continue to stroke him. 
“Nice touches?” 
“Yeah, it feels really good.” 
Running your hand up, you graze his nipple, and then bring it back down, down, until you reach the top of his jeans. You graze a finger, just one, under them, sweeping across his tensing abs. Then, you move up to more innocent flesh. 
“Jesus Christ.” 
Eddie's chest is heaving, fingers pressing indents into your flesh. 
“Nice enough?” you're the one smirking this time, pleased at the effect you're having on him. 
“Yeah.” 
It's barely a word, more of a breath. You scoot closer toward him, just a couple of inches, but it's close enough to feel his thigh start to press against your heat. Gasping at the pressure, you rub subtly against his thigh to try and relieve your mounting feelings, no matter how slightly. 
Eddie's hand starts making a trembling journey up your form, fingers twisting underneath your top. Feeling the underside of your bare breast, you both gasp. Eddie undoubtedly because you weren't wearing a bra, you because, well, the obvious. The slightest graze had your nipple hardening instantly, hips rocking forward without your control. 
“Is this OK?” 
“Yeah. Please.” 
Fingers stretching further, Eddie finally brushes your nipple. The feeling is magnified by your piercing; they've felt more sensitive since you got them done.
The moan that escapes is louder than you meant but it couldn't be helped. This simple touch is igniting through your nerves and rushing to your high brain. 
“Shit, they are pierced.” 
It seems to be a thought that Eddie said out loud by accident as he rubs his fingers over your ruddy nipple, slowly circling the silver balls of the jewellery. 
Another moan breaks from you, even louder this time.
“Fuuuuck Eddie.” 
“Yeah?” 
His touches become firmer, rubbing your nipple between thumb and forefinger, mapping the way your face scrunches up with his eyes.
“Yeah, jeez. They're really sensitive.” 
Practically panting in each other's mouths, your noses rub together. 
“Can- can I kiss you?” 
His words are so hesitant that it makes you giggle. Pressing your lips in a swift kiss to his full bottom lip, you respond. 
“I'd be mad if you didn't.” 
Eddie wastes no more time, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to you that you reciprocate in kind. You keep it slow, leisurely traversing new territory with soft, exploring tongues. Naturally your arms encircle him, pulling him closer, closer. His arm snakes around your back as your bodies press together, like puzzle pieces slotting together and finding their perfect match. Eventually you break away to take a gasping breath as Eddie presses kisses to your collarbone.
“I don't know why we waited so long to do that.” 
“We? I thought you just wanted me for free drugs!” 
You giggled loudly at that, so loud it came out as a snort, but it didn't matter. The moment was so honest that being cool had nothing to do with it. You were bare, in a way, and so was he. 
Eddie chuckled with you as he slowly but surely pushed you onto your back, slipping both of his legs between yours. Pushing your hips up, you feel his hardness graze your pubic bone. 
“Eddie?” 
He hums a response, lips and tongue busy loving on your neck. You tug at the hem of your top and pull upwards. Eddie gets the message, moving out of the way briefly so you can strip it off. 
There you are, bare chested in front of him. You'd be nervous, if you hadn't seen the longing in his eyes. He's kneeling, one arm leaning on the mattress whilst the other compulsively strokes your side. 
“Jesus Christ your tits are perfect.” 
The moment stretches just a little too long for comfort; you're a hair's breadth away from crossing your arms over your chest when Eddie leans down and runs his tongue around and around one nipple. Mewling pathetically, you lace your fingers in Eddie's soft waves and tug. In response his teeth graze you as he sucks softly; then he gives the other just as much attention. 
Shuddering and wriggling under him, you can't do anything but whine, your hips undulating upwards to chase some friction, some release, anything. 
“Eddie, please, I need you.” 
“Umph,” He responds, muffled by your chest, “I need you to say that again.” 
“Eddie I swear to God if you don't- ” 
He laughs, cutting off your sentence. 
“Alright baby girl, I got you.” 
Working his way down your front, he takes his time planting soft kisses, making you writhe at each touch of his lips, until he reaches your shorts. 
Flicking the button open, he slowly drags the zip down and finds the little sliver of red panties poking out. 
“Hearts? Cute.” 
Thick fingers plunge into your clothes and pull them away, flinging your shorts and panties across the room into the void that was Eddie's carpet. 
Insecurity finally gripped its claws into you. What if he didn't like what you looked like down there, smelled like, tasted like? 
A moment of unadulterated panic, and then Eddie licked his tongue, slowly yet firmly, between your lips and all the way up. Barging your thighs further apart with his shoulders, he rooted your clit out with his tongue, running dizzying circles and sucking at it desperately. 
Eddie's moans rivalled your own, such neediness etched in you swear his fingerprints will be left on the outside of your thighs like tattoos, simply from the force he held you with. Barely able to shake, you compensated by pulling his hair and guiding his tongue exactly where you needed it. 
He pushed a thick calloused finger into you slowly, looking up at you as he did so. You back arched off the bed. He felt around, staring at you with such intensity you that you were seconds away from telling him to quit staring when-
“Oh God, oh fuck!” 
Eddie smirked, sliding another finger in gently to join the first, and worked your clit between his lips. He incessantly stroked a spot inside that you'd never reach on your own, a firm, beckoning gesture as if he were willing your orgasm to come hither. 
It was working. Your insides tingle, a tightness pulling straight from your gut and shooting out to your fingers and toes. Beyond control by this point, your hand pulls his hair tightly. To your amazement, his other hand reaches out to you, seeking, and you lace your fingers in his own. 
As soon as your digits touched, you were gone. Your release plummets out of you, shaking through every bone you have, leaving you a twitching puddle of a woman. His fingers chase after it, dragging every inch of squelching pleasure out of your insides until you're tugging him away and begging for it to stop. 
As he moved back up your body, licking and sucking as he did so, you tried to think of an answer to the smug grin he was just about to flash at you. 
There was none. Brain unravelled, threads wound into your nerves instead of your thoughts, you laid there, ruminating on how he'd made you come faster than any other man.
Eddie hovered over you, nose nudging your own. He must have wiped his mouth at some point whilst you were in la la land. 
“Hey pretty girl.”
“Eddie, you're really fuckin’ good at that.”
“I know.”
You laugh, tapping his side.
“Cocky.”
“Confident.”
Before you can retort his mouth is back on you, peppering kisses to your jaw, as his solid member presses into your naked heat.
“Fuck Eddie, please, please please-”
“Please what baby girl?” He asks, then sucks a hickey on your neck. 
Pulling him towards you by his shirt collar, you bite down sharply on his earlobe, pulling a little groan from his chest.
“I want you to stuff me full Eddie. I'm- I'm on birth control. Fill me up.” 
You can practically feel Eddie's eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Fuck, you can't just say that, I nearly busted in my pants!” 
Pulling himself off you for the shortest time he could, he peels his t-shirt over his head and flops back on top of you. Desperate kisses and urgent gropes spill from you both; grinding, needy things that tore at clothes and grasped at flesh. 
After fiddling and failing with his belt, you huff and tug harshly at his waistband. He chuckles, biting at your bottom lip as he unlatches it with ease and then wriggles his pants and boxers down his legs with urgency. 
More desperate grasps, teeth and tongues clashing violently, your hand reaching down to clutch at his- 
“Holy hell!” 
His eyes widen, hands coming to a halt, waiting for the rest of your sentence. You're too busy trying to glance down his front as he hovers over you, your fist firmly stroking his hardened cock.
“You're huge Eddie!” 
He smirks and thrusts into your hand, the velvet smoothness of his dick massaged  by your palm. 
“Bet you say that to all the guys.”
“Er, no, Rick's made some truth serum or some shit because that's the biggest I've ever felt.” 
You guide him firmly towards your entrance, dragging the tip of his enlarged cock through your slickened folds. He quivers over you, arms thick with tension. 
“Baby girl just, just slip it inside, please-” 
“Now who's begging?” 
Grinning mischievously, you wait for him to start forming an answer with his mouth when you slip the head inside your sopping opening. His open mouth turns into a long drawn out moan. 
You would tease him if the feeling of him splitting you open wasn't all consuming. Which it fucking is. He just keeps pushing, and pushing, until his chest is flush with yours and he's mumbling platitudes in your ear. 
“Doing so good for me. Such a naughty, naughty girl. Getting filled up by her drug dealer? Baby girls a little dirty, isn't she?”
You're trying not to let him know how much his words affect you, but the fluttering of your satin like walls tells a different story. 
“You're not my dealer.” 
“Oh really? I'm not?” 
Pulling out nearly all the way and pushing back in, you bite your lip at the drag against your insides.
“Dealer implies I buy shit. You just give it to me, like a little simp.”
Eddie's mouth drops open in mock outrage.
“You want me to give it to you now? I'll fucking give it to you baby.” 
Hooking an arm under your thigh, Eddie thrusts into you hard and devastatingly deep. And again, and again, until you start moaning wantonly right in his face, all bravado forgotten.
“Yeah? Atta girl. That good baby? Wanna feel me right here?” 
His other hand pushes against your lower stomach, the pressure deepening the pleasure he's giving you tenfold. 
“Oh Eddie, oh fuckfuckfuck!!” 
Your release explodes out of your cunt with a gush, liquid spurting out of you so hard you nearly force his impressive length out. It waves drastically, like the sea against the shore, washing and washing over you until it's hard to breathe. 
“Baby, baby! Holy shit, I think you squirted.” 
“Ya think? My God, that was… mind blowing.” 
“Yeah?” 
Looking up at him, you expect that arrogant grin, but he just looks pleased and innocent. Like a kid at Christmas. 
“Yeah, fuck yeah.”
Rolling him over with all the power left in your thighs, you pin him down and move firmly into him, ferality taking over your actions. 
“Jesus Christ, you are a dirty girl, aren't you?” 
“Maybe just a little.” 
Smirking, you hump against him, your swollen clit bumping against his pubic bone on each delicious pass. 
“Holy shit, I'm not complaining- fuck, what the- what are you doing? Jesus Christ!” 
You bounce hard on him. Seeing him writhe under you is a special kind of power, one you aren't willing to let go of. Ever.
“Fuck, b-baby girl, you're gonna make me come!” 
His intense moans spur you on further. Unable to bounce so much on shaky knees you snuggle down close to him, arms clutching his shoulders, as you grind into him. It's massaging sensations into your clit, as well as teasing your g spot with his imposing length. 
“I can't, I’m-  baby girl-” 
“I'm gonna come, Eddie please, fill me up, I wanna feel it, I wanna feel your cum inside me, please, fuckin’ breed me Eddie. Oh fuck!” 
Quivering against him uncontrollably, your legs give out, collapsing on his body as he tenses and releases inside of you. It spurs your own orgasm, snaking up your spine and gripping on your system like a fly caught in honey. An open mouthed scream is all you give him, silent but chock full of feeling, as your back arches in its own tension. 
As it curls out of you, your back gives up, and you flop forward, bones turned to pudding. 
“Well.” is all that comes out, a puff of a word, just air escaping from a collapsing chest.
“Well.” Eddie responds, waiting for what you're about to say. 
You're sure he doesn't expect it. A laugh bubbles out; a weird, inside laugh, that you probably should never share with anyone. But it keeps coming. And coming. Laughing uncontrollably, you roll off of him and try to get your stomach muscles in check. 
You'd be worried about his reaction, if he wasn't laughing with you. It was this odd mixture of tension and relief that was bursting in the air, a barrier broken and left crumbling at your feet. 
“Eddie. Fuck, Eddie.” 
“Yeah?”
‘Yeah.”
His heated hand found yours, and squeezed your fingers hard. For some reason, it felt more intimate than all of this combined. 
Giggling again, you lean into his chest, fingers dipping up to weave into his hair. 
“Baby girl, you can't just-” 
“What? Pull your hair? Because you like it?” 
Tugging on his hair dramatically, Eddie tosses his head back and groans. 
“Knew it.”
“Yeah, yeah, certified genius. It's like you don't wanna be railed again.” 
Huffing, you pull yourself on top of him again, hardened nipples brushing softly against his flesh. 
“Oh, I think I'll be the one railing you. You wanna make a bet, for next time?” 
Smug grin forgotten, Eddie stares at you in disbelief.
“Next time?” 
“Well, I hope so. Got to be the best I've ever had.” 
Stupid Rick and his stupid strain. 
“Best you've ever had?” 
“Fuck you.” 
“Only if you wanna.” 
The teasing stopped. At least for now. It was pretty clear, your need for each other was outranking any goading you'd been sharing. 
At least for now… 
Taglist (Some permanents, some likely candidates, if you want to be added, jus say the word sweetheart)
@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson
5K notes · View notes
unboundprompts · 9 months
Note
If you’re still doing request, is it OK if you either
Describe writing a panic attack?
Or
Describe someone who has gray eyes?
-> a link for gray eye descriptions: x
How to Write a Panic Attack
Physical Symptoms of a Panic Attack:
pounding or racing heart
sweating
chills
trembling
difficulty breathing
weakness or dizziness
tingly or numb hands
chest pain
stomach pain or nausea
feeling lightheaded
tense muscles
dry mouth
constriction in the chest
feeling like they're being choked
Other Symptoms:
heightened vigilance for danger and physical symptoms
anxious and irrational thinking
a strong feeling of dread, danger or foreboding
fear of going mad, losing control, or dying
feelings of unreality and detachment from the environment
Triggers for a Panic Attack:
something unexpected (ex: a phone call)
a reminder (objects, smells, locations, specific phrases, etc. that can be tied back to a traumatic experience)
stress (from work, a relationship, family, etc. that has been building up)
silence (ex: being alone in a quiet room. The silence can amplify a sense of isolation)
flashbacks (a trigger that causes the person to flash back to a traumatic memory)
out of nowhere (sometimes panic attacks just get triggered by seemingly nothing)
Writing Prompts:
-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.
He couldn't breathe. Oh God, he couldn't breathe and he was going to die.
She knew the panic was building up, but it crashed over her like a tsunami that swept her off her feet. The pull threatened to pull her out to sea and it was all-consuming.
They felt the panic begin to wrap its arms around them like a shadow.
"Is it okay if I hold your hand?"
"Don't touch me-- don't touch me!"
Her mind was running at a million miles a second but she couldn't pinpoint a single thought.
"It's okay. You're safe."
An icy hand had reached through their ribcage and was squeezing their heart. They couldn't breathe and they didn't know what to do to regain their breath.
"My chest hurts. It hurts."
"I can't!"
They were a crumpled heap, stowed away in the corner as tears streamed down their face.
She felt like she was on a boat out at sea, the room swaying and adding to the nausea that was washing over her.
He felt like he was having a heart attack.
They gasped for air but each breath felt shallower than the last.
She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, beating like a panicked drum to the rhythm of her fear.
He felt like he was standing on the edge of a building.
They couldn't move. It was like someone was holding down their limbs, the panic rendering them utterly frozen.
If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider donating! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi!
5K notes · View notes
franklysainz · 3 months
Text
LOST IN THE PADDOCK.
Tumblr media
MV1 X FEM!READER
summary getting lost in the paddock and bumping into the current world champion was definitely not on your bingo card.
cw amara is the only oc, no use of y/n. this is my first time writing rpf since middle school, so bear with me. ALSO, this is a work of fiction: i don't know these people irl, i don't know how they act. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.
face claims girls on pinterest but you can obviously disregard them, and imagine whoever you want.
masterlist | taglist
Tumblr media
"Ah, fuck," you mumble to yourself, panickedly walking away from the direction you came from while also looking for your best friend.
You call her name a few times in hopes of her popping her head out of the Ferrari building's corner but to no avail. The group and guides you had been with are nowhere to be found, and you have to avoid bumping into employees wearing the entire rainbow as they hurry around you.
You curse the moment you decided to enter the giveaway for those tickets. Although you weren't a Formula One fan, simply because you never fully listened to Amara's ramblings and analysis, when you stumbled across a giveaway of otherwise very expensive tickets, you didn't hesitate to enter it. Despite entering for her, you kept it a secret. The list of entries was long, and the odds were not in your favour, so you didn't want to get her hopes up. You couldn't contain the bubbling excitement when you got the e-mail verifying your win for two Paddock Club tickets for the Spanish Grand Prix.
After announcing it to your obsessed-with-cars best friend, you decided to make it a five-day trip, planning to sightsee Barcelona before the race weekend and spend a free day after it. The first day had been great, albeit tiring, but you had woken up the next day buzzing with anticipation to walk around the paddock. You were the assigned photographer, as you knew Amara would want to listen to everything the guide said. You were content with taking pictures of the place and her. 
Until now. You were definitely not happy with being the camera guy. Because of that, you'd just lost your group in the middle of God-knows-where, with no idea where the building you came from was. So immersed in your grumbling and reading the map on your phone- you collide with someone. Your phone and water bottle slip from your fingers, and the tote bag slips from your shoulder to your elbow. You hiss at the sudden weight shift.
The smell of rich cologne enters your nostrils, but you don't dare look up. Your cheeks burn. "Sorry." You bend down to grab your things.
The man seems to have the same idea, as seconds later, he's on his knees and gathering his things before you can reach them. "No, it's alright! I wasn't looking where I was going."
He extends his full hands with a smile, and you return a sheepish one before grabbing your things. You take a second to look at him. He wears a Red Bull cap and T-shirt, looking like everyone who hurriedly passed you with papers and phones in their hands. I should ask him for directions. He looks like he knows the place.
"Uh...Is there any way you saw a group of people with guides walking around here? I'm supposed to be with them, but I kinda lost them." You lift the camera, further explaining why you're separated from them.
He can't help but chuckle at your flushed cheeks. "Unfortunately, no," he pauses. "Are you here for the weekend?" You nod. "Haven't they given you a map, then? They usually do, to avoid people getting lost."
You show him your phone. Your fingers brush as he pulls it closer to look at the map. "Yeah, they have. But I can't figure it out. Kind of my first time coming to something like this."
He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the phone. "Really?" He sounds surprised. He shouldn't.
You looked out of place compared to the rich-as-fuck members of your group. You had no idea how people dressed for these occasions. Even Amara didn't really know what to pack, so you both agreed to wear comfortable clothes. With the race being during June and in Spain, you would rather be comfortable than sweaty. The only thing tying you to the group was the Paddock Club pass you wore around your neck.
"My best friend is really into this. Loves the sport. I won us the tickets, but I'm barely grasping the basics." You laugh, and he joins. You like the way his eyes crease when he smiles wide.
"Oh, you're the ones that won the tickets! Someone told me about that, I think. Congrats!" You thank him. "How's your weekend so far?"
You shrug. "T'was really fun. Until I got lost while taking pictures of the Ferrari building." He snorts.
Leaning next to him, you try to follow his finger as he scrolls around the zoomed-in map. "You figured it out yet?" 
"I think I have, yeah." He shows you the phone. "We're here. The garages are right there. You'll be watching the race on the floor above them." You nod, slowly grasping your surroundings. Turns out it's easier to figure it out when you're not panicking and a handsome stranger is helping you. "You got it?"
You flash a bright smile. "Yeah, actually, I think I do!" You look at him. "Thank you!"
He shrugs. "No problem. I know it's easy to get lost, especially with so many people running around."
"Still. Thank you. You probably have to be somewhere, and I took up a lot of your time." You step back, turning in the direction he'd shown you.
"Don't worry about it." He fixes his hair under the cap.
"Thanks again." You wave and turn to leave.
"Hey, I forgot to ask you." You turn, confused. "What team are you supporting tomorrow?"
Oh, shit.
It's like a deer caught in headlights situation. You suddenly forget all ten names of the racing teams, desperately racking your brain for an answer. You swear you know all ten.
"Uh..." you nervously clench and unclench your water bottle. "Ferrari?" It's more of a question rather than a statement.
He laughs, and your cheeks return to their warm state. Bad answer?
"Ferrari?" He asks as if saying really? You shrug, and he huffs a laugh.
"I told you I'm not good at this!" 
You hear a shout and simultaneously turn to see a man in a Red Bull shirt beckoning him over. 
"I have to go. But you should watch out for the Red Bulls. I hear they got the better cars!" He winks and waves before walking away from you.
You roll your eyes and smile wide on your lips. Of course, he'd tell you to cheer for his team. The back of your hand touches your cheek. It's incredibly warm. You blame it on the hot weather.
"I'm telling you, mate! She had no idea who I was!" 
Lando rolls his eyes. "And I'm telling you there's no way. Your face is plastered everywhere."
It's Charles's turn to roll his eyes. "Or maybe she was more worried about finding a way back than asking for pictures."
"Yeah, maybe she was being polite. Didn't want to attract any attention to you." Albon adds.
Max shrugs. "I don't know."
"Was she pretty?" Oscar elbows Lando's ribs, as the latter can't contain his giggle.
Max's neck flushes. He shrugs again. "Yeah, I guess."
"Ohhhhh!" George and Lando pat him on the back teasingly, and Charles laughs at Max's expression.
Before they can tease him about this mystery girl more, a woman wearing a headset informs them they have to part ways and get ready for qualifying.
"And Fernando was so bloody nice, too! He was more than happy to sign the cap for you!" Amara waved her hands excitedly as she recounted everything you missed while lost.
You sat near the windows overlooking the pits, watching as the teams got their cars ready for qualifying, far away from the TVs and the crowded tables, not wanting to converse with anyone but your best friend. You chewed on your extremely expensive pasta, intently listening to her meet-up with some of the drivers. 
"I can't believe you met the only driver I know," you whined, lips pouting sadly.
"I swear I didn't realise you were gone until they stopped us to greet the drivers. I was fully into that tyre explanation the guide was giving."
"Gee, thanks." You smile, giving her the middle finger.
"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that. Without you, I wouldn't even be doing the stuff we did today." Amara pulls on your middle finger, and you both giggle.
"So, tell me what you did when you were alone," she urges, sipping her drink.
"You mean when you left me wandering like I was looking for my mother?" She gives you a pointed look. You shrug. "I stopped a Red Bull guy to give me directions. He was helpful and cute. Also took some pictures while I was making my way back here."
"Oh, was he a mechanic or what?"
"I don't know. Didn't catch his name." You smile as you recount his advice. "He told me to look out for the Red Bulls because they have fast cars."
"Well, he's not wrong."
You finish your food and drinks, chatting until qualifying is about to begin. You sit on the balcony, watching the cars drive on the track. You get settled, watching the small screen in front of you, commentary loud in the headset you wear. Qualifying goes by quickly, with Amara explaining things you don't understand and you nodding along.
It's no surprise—in Amara's words—that Max Verstappen came first in his Red Bull. He's the one dominating this season, after all. Second comes Carlos Sainz, and third place takes Lando Norris. Your best friend cheers a little more for him. You shoot her a look, and she just shrugs. "What? He's fast, and he's handsome." You laugh.
You decide to leave before others, not stick around for post-qualifying interviews. Although there's a great chance you can catch drivers, take pictures and get them to sign autographs, you're both far too exhausted to stay. There's always tomorrow, Amara says, and you agree.
You're looking through the Uber app to find a car available to take you back to your hotel when you hear Amara all but screech beside you. You look up, watching as she runs towards a wall decorated with a gigantic poster of three drivers. You recognise Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc and...Oh, shit.
"Can you take a picture here," she calls your name pleadingly.
Your eyes are wide and glued to the tall poster, even as you pull the camera up to your face. You snap a couple of pictures before Amara walks back to you. Her wide smile falters as she watches you stare at the poster intensely. You rack your brain for his name and know that you should know it. Amara has mentioned it before, but you just can't put your finger on it. He's in Red Bull, so it's either Checo Perez or—
"Is that Verstappen?" You point to him.
"Yep. Two-time world champion." Amara looks at the poster and then back at you, eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you looking at him like that?"
"He's the guy from earlier."
"What?!"
yourusername
Tumblr media
liked by amaraiscool, yourmom, and 167 others.
tagged amaraiscool
yourusername chatted with a guy today, turns out he's the current world champion.
view all comments
amaraiscool i can't believe you met max verstappen
> yourusername amaraiscool i cant believe you let me get lost
amaraiscool and i can't believe you didnt recognise him.
> yourusername amaraiscool hes cuter in person, too bad you didn't get to see him :))
yourfriend1 THE DRESS IS SO CUTE, AMARA WTF DROP THE STORE!!!!!!
liked by yourusername
yourfriend2 johns freaking out rn lol
> yourusername yourfriend2 AW, i bet hes not being as dramatic as amaraiscool was when i told her :,)
> amaraiscool yourusername met THE max verstappen.
"You should totally text him," Amara says between bites.
She offers you a piece of chocolate, and you offer her a bewildered look. The hotel room's TV is playing a random spanish show, but with no subtitles, you can barely grasp what they're saying. Amara is scrolling on TikTok beside you.
"Text who?" You already know who.
"The two-time world champion. Duh." She rolls her eyes.
Amara hadn't stopped talking about the Max interaction since you'd pointed at his gigantic poster. The more she spoke on it, wiggling her eyebrows, the more you blushed. She had gone over a thousand scenarios, all of which you ended up hooking up with him. You had to remind her that despite his popularity, he was a stranger to you. 
"I don't have his number, 'mara. I told you he just helped me find my way."
She flicks your forehead. "That's what Insta is for!" 
"No."
"But why!?" Amara whines in your ear loudly, like a child when you take their candy away.
"It's weird! He's cute and all," you sit up, pointing your finger up," but he doesn't know my name," you put another one up, "he'll think I'm creepy," you point a third one, "and that is if he sees the requested message."
"Uh, you're ruining my scenario-building process."
"That's what Tumblr is for. Leave my quiet, boring life out of this." You dramatically sigh.
"Isn't that how all fanfiction starts? Boring and quiet life turned upside down?" Amara tilts her head.
"I don't know, 'ave never read any." You shrug, lips pursing.
She huffs a laugh, and you hold in yours. "Liar."
There's a pause. You think over Amara's suggestion. Max Verstappen is cute. And it wouldn't hurt to try and get his number. You'd never see him again after this weekend. And the worst he could say is: "Security, please get her out of here!" 
What the fuck am I thinking? He's a literal superstar. Me bumping into him was a one-time thing. 
Ah, fuck it. It's not the end of the world.
"You know what?" Amara turns to look at you. "If I get the chance tomorrow, I'll talk to him. Try and get his number."
Her eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "What?"
"I mean, I'm never seeing again? Right? It could go either way. He doesn't call for security to escort me like I'm crazy fangirl, or he does, and we pray no cameras recorded the moment."
Amara shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but she can barely hold her wide smile. "Sounds like a plan to me."
"Not much of a plan. I'm just indulging in your delusions."
You share a laugh before you fall back in bed beside her. You shuffle closer to your best friend's side, eager to watch the TikTok edit she is staring intensely at.
"Oh, look, it's your future boyfriend!" 
"Shut up."
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
Note
I've seen you mention that alastor would make little deer bleats in a few fics, do you have anything for the reader hearing him bleat for the first time, like reader said something flirty that caught him off guard or while petting his ears, alastor would definitely be the time to be like "what ever are you talking about dear, you're hearing things" and try to change the subject out of embarrassment
- 🐞
I LOVE IT
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
Tumblr media
TW: Suggestive, Explicit s e x towards the end
Description: ☝️⬆️
Alastor makes deer noises, usually when he's pissed off or exerting some of his power
It's a very emotional and unintentional thing, something he normally can't help or hide
Usually, you can hear buck grunts, warning calls, though elk bugle sounds dominate most of the other noises he makes
You didn't even know he was capable of making softer sounds until you found out by accident
The two of you were alone, sharing a romantic moment with you in his lap and his hands caressing your body
You had pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath when his twitching ears suddenly got your attention
Not that Alastor minded, keeping his mouth busy with your neck and shoulder instead
As if you could ever pass up the opportunity to touch those fluffy ears...
You couldn't help but scratch and rub his furry ears, leaning into kiss one while giving it a playful nip
Only to be surprised by the soft bleat that escapes from Alastor and the way his entire body goes stiff out of embarrassment
"Alastor, did you just-"
"Would you look at the time?! I must go, darling! Things to do, people to see!"
Leaves you on the floor, on your back, and in shock
You try to bring it up to him later but that doesn't work-
"Alastor, about that sound you made..."
"Hm? Oh! I merely had to clear my throat! Not to worry, darling! It won't happen again."
"But I want it to."
👀
It becomes a game between you two, well...more of a game for you, Alastor has never been so nervous in his fucking life
You're on a mission to hear that adorable noise again by any means possible
He's eating breakfast?? You're leaning over him and kissing along his neck while pouring him tea
Which doesn't work, he just tilts his head and gives you a contented growl before continuing with his meal
He's taking a small break? Eyes closed and relaxed? You try going for his ears again, massaging them
That doesn't work either, instead he gives you a warm smile and pulls you down to lay with him
You try flirting with him, maybe you can say something sultry and catch him so off guard he makes that sound again?
Instead, you just get yourself into trouble because instead of something small and subtle you just drop a fucking bomb instead
You corner him and pin him to the wall, mustering up every bit of courage and control to push forward
"Do you believe dreams can come true? Because I dream of you cumming inside me."
WHAT THE FUCK Y/N WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT PICK UP LINE
Angel
Oh that makes sense
It doesn't work, instead Alastor gets a predatory look on his face and he's pulling you closer to him
"Luckily for you, my dear~ I happen to have a soft spot for dreamers such as yourself~"
Oh fuck
It actually does end up working in your favor, just not the way you thought it would
You don't even remember how you end up naked on your back, legs spread to accommodate Alastor between them
Both of you are close, having been at it for hours at this point, desperate ragged sounds coming from the two of you
Your nails are digging into his back, no doubt leaving nasty marks that he'll later tease you for
He has one clawed hand on your hip while the other grips and makes deep grooves into the headboard
You're nearly out of it, mind fizzy and hot with the feeling of being so full of Alastor's cock that you almost miss your chance
You know exactly how to get that sound out of him
Suddenly, your legs lock around him and you're tugging him down to you to give him a desperate steamy kiss
He's caught off guard and startled but eagerly reciprocates your actions, chasing a building orgasm between you both
He pulls away to growl and pant, head rolling back as his thrusts become sharp and erratic
You tug him back to you by his hair and suddenly give him a watery smile, barely able to hold on because you're so close
"A-Alastor...haa...I love you...~"
And that's what does it, his eyes widen in surprise as he suddenly releases inside you, letting out a pathetic sounding bleat
He's so mortified afterwards, burying his face in your chest as you comb your fingers through his hair. Both of you shuddering and trying to catch your breaths
"You...you are an evil evil person..."
You can't help but laugh and kiss his head, scratching around his antlers affectionately
"I love you too, Alastor~ Every part of you~"
Tumblr media
This one got away from me...it's probably not what you asked for but... I hope you like it!!
2K notes · View notes
writingmochi · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
part 1
cast: heeseung ✗ fem.reader (ft. the peeps, enhypen, and other idols)
synopsis: when you told your long-term rival and latest hook-up, heeseung, that you are pregnant with his child; you didn't expect said topic to be involved in your rivalry!
genre: romantic comedy, slice of life, coming-of-age, slow burn, drama, rivals since childhood to [redacted], college/university au, pregnancy au, future parents au, fluff, angst, mature content (explicit smut)
word count: 24198 (24.2k) out of 60550 (60.5k)
warning(s): pregnancy (what did you expect?), so many curse words!, description of explicit sex (in a flashback sense), rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, manhandling, vomiting, mention of drugs (marijuana, alcohol), mention of blood, dark humor (if there is something that i forgot, let me know)
message of the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.
first fic of 2024! i've ideated this since like 2022 and it's here what the heck!! this is part 1 of 2 of a 57k-58k word count one-shot (yes, this is supposed to be a one-shot) but tumblr hates me so i have to divide it into two. thanks for the 200+ notes on the teaser/character intro and i hope you enjoy it!
soundtrack (spoilers for part 2!) | part 2
Tumblr media
prologue: a town called valentine
it was valentine 2002 when you and heeseung first met. well, if you consider babies who can’t even talk to each other will know of each other. you have to thank both of your moms for that—getting pregnant around the same time and giving birth in the same year as well.
but the earliest—vivid—memory you have of him was on valentine 2005. you hid behind your mama’s leg as she talked with someone: another adult. you glance around the outside space you’re in, the plants and pathway unknown to you as mama can see your eyes wander with your tiny mouth agape when you look past the other adult to recognize the widening door right beside them. you heard your mother giggling with the other person as they converse about something your 4-year-old mind wouldn’t be able to understand.
“(y/n) sweetie! say hi to auntie.” your mama caresses your hair with her hand as she guides you to stand beside her, her hands moving behind your small set of shoulders before you. the small hands reached for one of hers, holding it tight as you stood beside her.
“hello…” you looked up to meet a beautiful woman. her eyes are wide as they remind you of the mother deer you last saw when you watched bambi with mama and papa. and you can feel a ticklish feeling inside you as you watch her eyes smiling softly at you. as she smiles at you softly.
“hello (y/n)! you’ve grown so much since i last met you.” her hands give a wave, making you raise your hand up as you mirror her while you pick up your mama’s chuckle. the lady moves back, extending her arm as you see a clean hallway full of photos on one side and a cabinet full of shoes on the other. some of them looking similar to your own shoe size.
“please come inside. i’ve set the toys so she can play with them if she wants.” the lady—well, auntie—said as your mama guided you inside with her trailing behind. sitting on the hidden seating area by the cabinet, she helps you take off your shoes before opening her hands to let you hold them. she lets you walk in front as both of you enter a big room with a sofa in front of a television. as per told by mama every time you enter someone’s home: sit down beside mama or papa as you waited for the homeowner to guide you next. the back of the sofa is too tall for your height now and you let your hand graze against the side of the soft sofa when you encounter a large mat laid in between the sofa and the screen.
your brain tingles when you find a few toys you can name—like the ones you own back home—while a few of them you don’t recognize at all. eyes on the toys, you throw away whatever your mama has told you and tug her hand to let her know the existence of them. looking up, she looks down at you, glance at the pile of toys left behind, and gives nods, making you grin as you both sit on the playmat. your eyes immediately look at blocks stacked shaping like a house; its triangle roof, square walls, four windows, and door makes you easily imagine it. you crawl towards it and the box beside it, finding the other blocks left behind as you pull some of them out to make your own little house. as you slowly stack up the blocks—hearing the sound of wood tapping against each other—you heard the sound of giggling coming from behind the sofa.
“sorry, he just finished taking a bath.” auntie said to your mom who was behind you, walking closer to the sofa as you turned your head to face her. that’s when you see another person walking into the room with a small pitter-patter heard behind them. the steps are getting louder and louder as you see a small figure enter the room, walking towards the person laughing. the person wipes his face with his small hand before pausing, turning his head to you.
“hi heeseung!” you heard your mama say as the boy’s laugh slows down and he looks at you and your mama. auntie, who now looks more like the bigger version of the boy, steps in to help him move and sit down beside you. you see him crouch down as you can see his face clearer. yet, his eyes wander on the house made of blocks—his house—and the house you’re making; wider by one block than his.
“that’s (y/n). you were too young to remember but auntie and i always bring you two to playdates since you’re not even one year old. she’s the same age as you.” you heard auntie say as you felt your mama help you to scoot closer. his hand reaches for the box of blocks as you place the final block on your house while he’s pulling out more blocks. you look at the boy’s action as you feel mama, with her larger hand, holding onto your smaller one. your palm is now open as you see heeseung was told to do the same by his mom, putting away the blocks on the mat. your hands meet each other as you say your name. mama helps in closing your fingers, wrapping your hand in his as he follows.
“my name is (y/n).” the boy’s hand also uses the same force when you shake it. both women let go of their children’s hands as both of your little hands are floating, connected, and shaking. your eyes meet his as he looks back at the two houses made of blocks.
“my name is heeseung.” he smiles.
-
1. stay soft, silly
the way the corner of his mouth twitches makes you think outside of the plan you are executing now, nearly done in telling him what he needs to know.
your hands rested on top of your stomach, feeling a little bulge that was not there a month ago. his ice americano contrasts with your hot jasmine tea as you sit across from each other. years upon years of history went on pause for this moment. for a truce that you are proposing.
“and they’re mine?” heeseung sounded. your eyebrows folded, looking down at the swollen part beneath your stomach as you pouted your lips, holding back your giggling as you glanced back at him.
“i haven’t had sex with anyone this past month besides you. so, yeah. the baby is yours.”
it’s funny, you see. with the amount of carefulness you and your friends have taught you of the college hook-up culture you got roped into, you never expected to hook up with your rival. yet tension does what tension does, and it snaps as you both stumbled to kiss each other.
when it comes to your “relationship” with heeseung, the closest to a positive one was when you were in kindergarten, as you’ve known him before by the amount of playdates both of your mothers set up.
little did they know that one time at a playground during one of those playdates, you were left alone to play with your sandcastles as heeseung ventured to play with the other boys, running around the sandpit playing tag and how you see the familiar little jeans pants walks in front of you, knocking the castle down and flying the specks of sand to your face with your slower reaction speed—because of your younger age—not making you close your eyelids quicker. your eyes watering as you wail out, getting the attention of your mama but not the jean-wearing boy’s attention as you hear his mom telling him to stop. apologizing is simple for your younger self, just a plain “sorry” is okay. but when lee heeseung—who you consider your friend at that time—said “sorry” with a grin on his face, you caught onto the impression that he was not sorry at all.
at age 7, you came back from the cafeteria to your class to find heeseung and his gang of boys pulling on a girl’s hair, the familiar sadness showing on her face as you caught her eyes. you’ve known that they’ve played “dirty” and have been teasing other girls in your class before—just not you, which is strange in itself. with a tense set of hands, you push the boys away with your might and stand in between them, helping the girl who cowers behind you. you look down to watch heeseung on the floor, teeth showing and face crunched as he sees the scratch from when you pushed him near his elbow.
“what was that for?”
“to stop you. she doesn’t like it.”
one of his boys helps to pick him up on his feet as you can see him limping. your arms still wide as you protect the girl as best as you can. he pushes his sweaty bangs off his face as you can define the same gaze he had given you when you were 5 at the playground, now fiery. and you exude the same thing with your glare as you see the other boys helping carry him out to the nurse's office, his eyes staying on yours as you feel the girl’s hand holding you back from not walking after him again.
stickers become score markers as you and he tried to compete to get the most out of them, which comes with being nice and clever during classes. you were 10 when you had the same class as him once again, having to compete to be the quickest when raising your hands. but also the lowly giggles you give each other as you both realize just how wrong each other’s answers that comes with the teasing annoyance. it also comes in gym class as the teacher divided you up into different teams during team games—basketball being the most competitive as you are familiar with it. heeseung doesn’t hesitate to run towards you if you have a ball and try to dribble it across the court, pulling it as you try to pass it to your teammate, resulting in a tug-of-war where you both just don’t want to let it go. even with the whistling from the teacher as one teammate gets a hold of it to continue the game, you instead continue to have a screaming match with him.
it continues through middle school as you remember him not hesitating with his power to slam his dodgeball at your stomach during another gym class, making you curl up on the floor as your friends help you to the nurse's office, hearing him screaming “that’s what you get from stealing my lunch” as you remembered the taste of the chocolate bread you pick up from his tray yesterday. at high school as you and him argue in front of the vice principal about each of your club’s fundings, him with his basketball club who is already so successful with their winnings money that they can’t seem to let go to help other clubs who are staying afloat. even with your school having pride in the basketball team and other sports club achievements—making it a staple for the students to watch at least one game during their high school years. you never went to one as you rather babysit your neighbor’s kid for money than watch heeseung’s smug smile as he won another mvp trophy for that tournament.
when college came and you got into hybe uni as a business major, you didn’t expect to see heeseung on campus. you’ve known that since he focuses more on basketball in middle school, you are winning when it comes to academics. but when his smirking face tells you he got into hybe with a full scholarship because of basketball, your heart plummets into the fathoms. you were glad that he’s not in the same faculty as you, but the college environment is so small that your acquaintances recognize each other. you can’t seem to stay away from him who still has his smart for balancing his gpa and non-academic activities.
so when your lips met his own as you sobered up after having the party busted by the police, your mind is telling you to out-better him in lust and pleasure.
“who can make each other cum the most? never thought of you as that filthy, (l/n)”
the grip of his hair on your hand tightens as he trails his own to get a grip of yours. both of your heads now straight as you can’t look away from each other even if you want to.
“i take that you’re saying that because you don’t know how to make girls cum with your dick, lee.” you chuckled. heeseung’s gaze is still meeting yours as he pushes your head forward, making your forehead touch his as he mumbles something only you can hear.
“i know i can make you cum on my dick just by the way you’re clenching your thighs, baby. how do we tally the score?”
“start a kiss on the lips when you know you can’t hold back?”
“deal.”
“by the way, who won?” heeseung asked, leaning his body forward on the table as you peer down at his position from you, holding yourself as you stretch your back to help with the pain.
“how many times did you cum? and don’t fucking lie.”
heeseung’s bed is rocking beneath you as he folds you up in half, your knees on either side of you as he pounds into you. gasps fall out of your mouth as you pull on his hair, something you realize he likes after the amount of groan coming out of him from when you tug him. praises come out of your mouth as you try every method you can to turn him on first; to make him cum first. but the way he is pushing down on your abdomen makes you clench harder.
“look at how you’re clenching onto me. you’re close, aren’t you?” he whispered as you felt the breeze blowing onto your saliva-stained neck you are certain had hickeys on it. heeseung had to remind himself that he couldn’t kiss your lips, no matter how delectable they were, changing to kissing your neck.
“n-“ you moan as heeseung’s hand traces down to grip your ribcage, pulling you closer to him so he could find another angle to reach you deeper, pleasuring you both in return. “no.”
“don’t lie to me, (y/n).” his head pulls back from your crook as you watch his bangs faltering from the hard pounding to his mattress. “god, you’re so fucking hot when you’re under me.”
“fuck, just like that.” you retaliate with your own dirty talk, hands holding his waist so he could stay longer in your cavern as you grip him. but when you sense his breath against your skin, nose upon nose touching, the grip on his waist trails up as you cup his face. nodding your head as you feel him getting faster, you pull his head down and make his lips meet yours. you bit your bottom lip as your muffled moans vibrated between the two of you. your body giving up for a moment as he continued to thrust into you, making you let go as you let out a silent scream when you felt the moist gushing against him inside you. heeseung’s lips are unhesitant to kiss between your eyebrows as your body calms down from shaking, eyes rolling back to their original place as you continue to caress his cheekbone before a surge of energy comes back to you. you push him to the side, placing him down on the mattress as your hands grab both of his wrists to rest beside his head.
“i can feel you twitching inside me, hee. i know you’re close,” you said as you bounce on his lap, feeling the way your essence fell out and how much slick is on his penis because of you. as you have the upper hand, you decide to tease him by falling on him slower than the pace you have familiarized, making his wrists flinched under your hold as you click your tongue.
“you like how my walls are sucking you?”
“fuck, yes,” he mumbled under his breath.
“yeah..?” you replied as you leaned forward, making heeseung reach up to kiss your areola as best as he could.
“come on. you don’t wanna cum again?” heeseung asked in such a whiny voice that makes you snicker at how needy he has become. you decide to continue your teasing when you trail your nose along his face as you give a tiny kiss underneath his earlobe where you see the hickey you made on his clavicle. you move your hips so slowly as you feel how he becomes more erect even when he’s inside you.
“you’re the one who denies it yourself. i’m currently helping you here.” you poke your tongue and trace down his adam’s apple to his chest, reaching his nipple and giving it a suck. heeseung’s hip shoots up into you as he wants to take control. your hand moving closer to his palm with the grip that is getting loose as he pushes both his arms to let go of your hold. yet, you pull them back up as you reposition your fingers to interlock with his, withholding what he wants to make you move faster as he thrusts up into you.
you stare at how his doe-like eyes are begging for you after the number of times you have hated and feared the same eyes. how it glistens with tears because of how uncooperative you are even with your pace getting faster. with that, you lean forward as you stretch his hands and place them on your moving hips, letting them go so he can grip it hard as he tries to chase that feeling once again. you drape yourself above him as his blown-out eyes stare right at yours, his orange fiery flame meeting your own blue.
leaning forward more as you sensed one of his hands resting on your back, you brush away his hair that is sticking on his forehead as you whispered the death blow.
“you can cum in me-“
he leans up to connect your lips with his as you understand the signal, making your hips help to stimulate him more. his tongue flicking out and even wetting the skin around your lips as he moans out your name, letting out an exhale as your forehead is on his.
“want to breed you…” he whispered as you nodded, knowing just how much you like cum staining your walls as you give him a peck.
“breed me then.”
as he spoke to you about when he cums in your walls cowgirl style, you couldn’t help but snicker at the memories of his newly known breeding kink and your own creampie kink makes the resulting bun in your oven, making him flick your hand as you stare at him.
“that’s one for you and one for me- what are you thinking?” the way his voice pitches up at the end of the question makes you giggle even more.
“i swear-“ you lean forward as you realize the stage you are in, “the way our kinks create them,” you point down to your stomach.
“with the way your body shivers when i cum in you,” he said as he also leans forward. “i knew you like it. but i didn’t realize how feral you got because of that.”
“how feral we got, heeseung. fucking correct that.”
“oh fuck!” you moaned out into the mattress as heeseung held your hips up when he thrusts back into you from behind. you can sense how every time he pounds into you, his release is coming out alongside him as the wet clapping noises penetrate even the sound of both the cricketing bed frame and both of your moans. his hand goes up to your head and pulls your hair as the other pushes against your stomach, making you bend back towards him as the moans you let out of your mouth are clearer. his lips sucking another hickey onto your shoulder as you lean your head back on him to widen his access. your hands gripping onto both of the hands that are now resting on your abdomen and one on your breast, respectively.
“who can make you feel like this?” the question triggering you right away.
“y-you.”
“say my name, baby,” he said as he kissed your cheeks, making you turn your head towards the side as you opened your eyes to meet his, continuing to pleasure you into oblivion.
“heeseung…”
“go on.” he squeezed your flesh and you bit your bottom lip.
“heeseung!”
the hand on your abdomen leaves to crawl to your nub as your free hand reaches up to his nape, letting you connect your lips with his as best as you can. your body doing gymnastics before it is overcome by your second wave of cum when heeseung stops and twist your upper body to connect both of your lips fully. with his hands enveloping you, you push both of your body down as you let him spoon you.
grinding your hips against him, you reached down to gather both your cums as you give it a lick, making heeseung groan as he helps you push against him. “fuck, (y/n), how are you still so tight?”
“only for you-“ you reply as you shift away, just wanting to kiss heeseung, but then you remember the rules. with your shoulder, you push heeseung so he lays back on the bed as you lie on top of him. your knees folding so you can put your heels on the mattress as you lift yourself up and down on his shaft. you push your hands against is so you can sit and let you see the messiness yourself: both of your thighs are now covered in whiteness as you continue, realizing how sticky your skins are against each other. instead of letting you observe the messiness, heeseung pulls your upper body back to his as he also folds his knees and pushes his heels to the bed, thrusting upwards and making the pace quicker.
both of your moans combine with each other as he rests his arms around your midriff so you can’t move away from him. your head tilts to look behind you at the way heeseung is closing his eyes. as the point of your nose touches his skin, he doesn’t hesitate to turn to you and brought your lips onto his as he gives a few sputtering thrusts before you felt him cumming in you once again, making you fuller than ever.
“and that’s another two for each of us,” you replied as heeseung let out a snicker.
“still a tie, huh?”
“yeah, but we decided on a tiebreaker, right?” he responded with a hum.
with how sweaty, sticky, and tired you both are, you decide to do a tiebreaker with you sitting on his lap in a lotus position. your breath meeting his as both of you work in tandem (with a little burst exerted once in a while) to make any of you cum first and declare to be the winner of this messed-up game you made. heeseung licks the skin below your neck and plays with your breasts as you let your fingers experiment with his nipples and the way your nails scratch against his back muscles. you know that both of you are exhausted because the only sound that comes out is the small moans and whines left over. you looked down to see the messy environment you made between both of your crotches, making you scoop it up as you lift your cum-covered forefinger to your mouth, sucking it in, before pulling heeseung’s head so you can let him taste both of you.
his wide eyes glance up at you as he puts on a show to make you turn on more, swirling his tongue around your middle finger as the hand that was holding your shoulder blade reaches to your face, making his thumb pressing against your bottom lip so you can suck it. your hips grind on him faster, bouncing a few times, as both of your moans are muffled by both of your fingers. pulling your finger back, a string of saliva connected it and his lips as you cup his cheek. heeseung bites his lip as he pulls the thumb out to see your swollen lips. as you stare at each other—thinking back to the past few hours that have gotten you here in this position—you sense something strange within you. something so unfamiliar when you stare at him than the other moments you blatantly glare towards him. with the way he glances around your face as he connects your forehead with his, you recognize he might have sensed the same things too.
you don’t remember who is the first one to reach out, but as both of your lips connect, you let yourself envelop him as he did you. both of you not stopping and helping each other out as both of you cum in quick succession. not letting go of each other’s lips as you both pull away slowly; looking at the string of saliva connecting both of you as you stare at each other.
“we don’t need to discuss that.”
“no, we don’t,”
both of you replied right after the other as you see heeseung looking away from you to glance at the window beside the table. you glance at the condensation forming on the glass of his americano before glimpsing towards the booth where he sat. a duffle bag beside his backpack; you guess it will be for his basketball practice, it is near the college basketball season after all. but as you glance up at the man himself—you notice how different he has been since you were children. the way he muscled up and the baby fat on his face sheds away from the amount of sports he has to consume weekly. but, with all the invisible scars you both inflicted on each other from then until now, you weigh in just how ridiculously complex your relationship is that you don’t know if he wants to agree with it or not.
“well, now that you know…” you started, rubbing your hand against your sweater paws, “you don’t have to contribute to their life.”
heeseung hums, turning back to look towards you with confusion written on his face.
“it’s okay if you don’t want to get involved in taking care of them. it’s hard enough to be a senior-year college student, let alone raising a baby. it’s my choice to keep them, so i have to take responsibility for that.” you grabbed the now lukewarm cup of tea as you take a sip from it, placing it gently on the small plate as you continued with, “especially knowing how complicated we are.” you use your forefinger to point between him and you.
the man’s face is hard to read. he jutted his lips, biting the inside of his cheek as you see him blink whilst looking towards you, trying to get a read on you as well. being 8 weeks pregnant, you just wanted the meeting to end because you have all the other things you need to organize: telling the girls about your pregnancy diets and symptoms, telling the university about them and maybe they could give you leeway with the tests and studies, setting up appointments for with the ob-gyn and the doula of your choice, and telling your parents.
your parents who knew heeseung’s parents.
this will be awkward as fuck to experience.
“and i wish we could have a truce for the next 40 weeks.” you said, already with an exasperated voice that seemed to even surprise heeseung. “with this lifelong rivalry going on and how both of us doesn’t even want it to stop, please just… give me a slack to take care of them as best as i could.”
when you expected heeseung to reply with an okay—knowing your status as an expecting mother to at least give you some slack—you were met with a piercing gaze instead. how he looks between your face and your hidden stomach behind the table. he rests his hand on the table when you watch him considering something, and you didn’t even fucking guess he will do what he does.
“no.”
“what?”
“no. there’s no truce.” he leans forward, recognizing the gaze in his eyes as you just want to punch it out of his face for even thinking about what he’s thinking.
“no fucking way you’re thinking about this.”
“why not, (y/n)? think you can’t take care of yourself enough for the baby?”
your palm is now against your forehead, brushing against your face as it trails down when you let out a groan, “you’re trying to make a rivalry on taking care of this baby…” you let out your guess as heeseung lets out his signature smirk and a voiceless ‘bingo’.
“how? they’re in me, heeseung.”
“by giving them good nutritious food, interacting with them, i don’t know. but i know from knowing you for years that you can’t take care of yourself, knowing you have three other roommates-“
“you also have three other fucking roommates. sheesh.” you shake your head as you lean back. “anything for the baby has to go through me first, you know? i can deny it if i want.”
“then we can argue who’s right. they’re my baby too and i have the right to be involved even if you don’t want to.” your phone vibrates after heeseung’s brash reply as you see the silent alarm of your next schedule of the day. you tug the strap of your bag to your shoulder and gulp the rest of your tea.
“whatever, i have another thing to do.”
“does it involve the baby?”
“no. unless you wanna join my research class.”
you stood up from the booth as you straightened your sweater down, making heeseung glance at your abdomen before looking back at your face. “just so you remember: i’m doing this for the baby, not you.”
rolling your eyes, you flip him the bird as you walk away from him to your only class of the day, making heeseung let out a strangled smile.
-
“what the- what do you mean?”
the game continues as the other three guys look towards heeseung who is obliterating them with his king dedede, the sound of the fighting comes from the tv of their living room apartment as his fingers nimbly move on the switch controller, making the other three characters fly from the platforms as the familiar “game!” announcement calls.
the boys are sitting in various ways; beomgyu and jeongin are on the floor and jimin is beside him. the soundtrack of the super smash bros ultimate is playing in the background as heeseung smiles.
“i’m gonna be a dad.”
jeongin, the closest to the main port of the switch, quits the game as beomgyu lets out another loud shout—outside of the game—and jimin, who is sitting besides him, shakes his body with outstretched arms.
“BROOO!” beomgyu rubs his hand across his long hair as he faces heeseung fully, who is regretting not recording the reaction of his best buddies about this.
“how does heeseung, who doesn’t even like hooking up, get someone pregnant?” jimin asks to himself but also to the others as jeongin now stands in front of him, shielding the tv from his sight.
“forget that. who did you knock up, lee heeseung?” jeongin cuts through as heeseung leans back against the headrest of the couch. a mix of expressions showing on his face cause he doesn’t know if he has to laugh, be angry, be sad, or what else. he lets out a sigh as he picks the right voice tone to tell them.
“it’s fucking (y/n).”
“okay, now hold on!”
jeongin jumps, shedding the stern aura that he just created a few seconds ago. heeseung glances down at beomgyu who has his jaw dropped with jimin gripping on heeseung’s shoulder very hard.
“SINCE WHEN DID YOU TWO HOOK U-“
“shush!” jimin stands up and covers his hand on jeongin’s mouth, not wanting another complaint from the neighbors both horizontally and vertically.
“when?” beomgyu asked jeongin’s questions concisely as heeseung glanced towards the sofa and the kitchen right beside the front door of their apartment.
“you remember the party that got busted by the police?”
“yoon keeho’s party?”
“yeah, that one.” jimin acknowledges beomgyu’s answer as heeseung continues.
“long story short, (y/n) was alone and i went past her, teasing her for seeing that her friends left her behind when the police showed. she was tipsy which she shows by how easily stumbles. so i dragged her with me to our apartment when we escaped. i don’t know where you guys were, but she’s gotten a bit too annoying so i have to sober her up. we talked, and the tension was just too…” heeseung remembers as he was the one reaching for your face, to tell you to shut the fuck up, but the tension melted away before both of you proposes the game that you did. “so, we did it. and she asked me to meet up this morning and told me the news.”
“and what are your thoughts?” jimin asks, making the high-stakes emotions lower as he lets his friend talk about what he is feeling.
well, for heeseung, shock was an understatement. when he heard you utter the three words to him as he asked you what makes you want to meet up, never did he expect that to come out. surely, he has a breeding kink, and he had expected that to happen. but you told him you’re leaving early to get a plan b pill. maybe it didn’t work, but he doesn’t want to assume much about your body. then, he can sense the hidden sheer happiness blossoming within him. he wanted to smile and give you a hug, but then he remembered that it was you. that outside of his bed that night, you didn’t see him as a friend.
for someone who doesn’t hook up with people, heeseung knows how the hook-up culture works. he had heard multiple women fucking his three roommates from within his room and he could use his noise-canceling headphones against them. people might presume he is picky—a basketball jock who stays hidden and doesn’t want to hook up with anyone unlike his younger teammates—but the level of comfort is different when he has to do it with someone he doesn’t know and that’s why he rather stayed away. you? well, you are an anomaly.
though close because of your upbringing, he doesn’t know you outside of what he knows. that you were the kid who broke his truck even after he said sorry for ruining your sandcastle at that playground. that you were the kid who pushed him to the floor back when you were 7. that you’re the girl who he competes with to get the most stickers and not letting go of the basketball even though he stole it from you correctly. that he saw you stealing the bread from his tray as he came back from the vending machine. that you were the one telling the vice principal his basketball club doesn’t need as much money as they do because of their successful run, not knowing that their assistant coach stole the winning money.
so when you decide to create walls from your words, try to spin it so he doesn’t have to care about his baby, he had to say no. it’s as if you’re trying to keep the baby to yourself and not letting him in even though it takes two to tango. so, he found the most relevant way: competing for who takes care of that baby the right way—even if they’re in you. he doesn’t even think far from that thought no matter how ridiculous it is as now he realizes what a logistical nightmare it’s going to be.
“you’re making a game out of taking care of your own child but not your baby mama?” jeongin questioned after hearing heeseung’s rambling about this.
“yup…” heeseung paused, a pregnant pause. “and i need all of your help.”
jimin’s face changes as he hears the way heeseung described his face, rubbing his palm against the creases forming on his forehead as he can’t comprehend how beomgyu easily accepts his role. jimin’s head perks up at heeseung calling his name.
“yo!” jimin replied.
“since you’re the only one out of us who has a direct connection to (y/n) through chaeryeong, you’ll be my eyes, okay? asked about (y/n), how she’s doing, and all that stuff.” heeseung nodded as he expectantly looked at the boy who stood beside jeongin.
“gotcha,” he replied, his eyes wide as heeseung turned towards jeongin.
“innie, you’re my source. find any article about pregnancy and what my role is gonna be as a dad. yadda yadda yadda. all that stu-“
“i do you one better, seung.” jeongin said as heeseung lifted his eyebrows at him, tilting his head.
“my mom is an ob-gyn doctor.”
-
“miss (y/n)!”
“wear this!”
there is sounds of pitter-patters all around you as you sense the weight getting heavier on your figure. a small cape hanging off your shoulders and a crooked crown on your head, you sit down cross-legged against a round table full of toy food and kitchen utensils. girls and boys alike sit on the chairs by the table with their own capes and crowns, playing around with their cups as they all have a tea party—with the other side of the room playing with legos.
“here is your tea and cake.” you see the girl beside you giving the plate of rubber cake and an empty tea cup.
“thank you, princess rami.” picking up the teacup into your hand, you let out a loud slurping noise to drink it, before flinching away as you fan your tongue.
“i’m so sorry. is it too hot?” rami asked as you shook your head.
“i’m okay. thank you for asking,” you replied as best as you could.
“you must be careful, princess rami.” the boy across from her spoke as you tilt your head to him.
“i’m alright. prince yujin. i will be more careful with the tea.” he gave out a smile as one girl called out.
“if we are all princes and princesses, how should we call miss (y/n)?” hyunseo asked across from you.
“well, miss (y/n) should be a queen!” woonhak replied enthusiastically.
“but if miss (y/n) is a queen, should she have a king?” hyunseo continued.
“or another queen. i have two queens at home.” yujin filled in as you gave off a smile with the implication. but then the kids started to bicker with each other as you looked around the room once again.
as you entered high school, you were determined to beat heeseung in another way other than school-related activities. and what other way by being independent and richer than him at a young age? so you raked your head of a simple work that can help you gain more pocket money when one of your aunts asks you if you can babysit their daughter and how she will pay you. seizing the opportunity, you get to take care of your baby cousin as you go to your aunt’s home to help her with her food and stuff. hearing your enjoyment by the dining room table, your mom suggests more opportunities to babysit children of your family members from both sides—to your youngest uncle’s 4-year-old son and your oldest cousin’s 6-month-old baby—you have an array of skills gotten from doing childcare as your mom recommend you to babysit her juniors’ children at work, making you who wanted it for the money now wants it for the children.
it needs a certain level of charisma to charm a child so they can listen to you and with the array of children you had to babysit, you’ve met and adapted as best as you can to all of them. from being the calm tutor for a baby who is training his motor skills to help a child practice balancing on a bicycle, you understand what a child wants under their tantrums. that love you give and the love you accept makes you want to contribute more to childcare. so you started volunteering in non-formal schools and orphanages, helping to at least make their days a little better. and that’s why you worked part-time as a daycare attendant since you entered university as it is a more established institution where you can shuffle your study schedule alongside your work schedule, meeting kids who are being sent here that are still younger than school age. it reminded you of your own childhood and you’re hoping that your inner child could be happy and satisfied that you let her feel that feeling again.
“guys…” your spoken voice cuts their conversations, and they all turn to you. “a queen doesn’t have to have a king or another queen by their side. a queen can stand alone too.”
“but wouldn’t that make the queen lonely?” rami questioned, making you pout your lips as you still can’t comprehend just how blatantly honest children are that it pierces through each layer of your heart to find the right spot.
“yes, the queen will be lonely. but she also has her princes, princesses, knights, counselors, and more around her. love doesn’t always come from one person, it can also come from a group.” you replied, making the group rowdy up as they converse about love and being independent—well, ‘lonely’ as they called it—when you feel a light pat on your shoulder.
turning your head, you see a younger girl other than those around the table holding a paper, stretching it towards you.
“for you, miss (y/n)…”
you slowly pick the paper from her small hands as you observe the drawing. a simple figure made of circles and triangles with different colors. a pink filled-in shape on one side of the triangle with the circle-shaped and another taller one holding the figures hand, a yellow crown-shaped drawing on top of a circle with a smiling face inside.
she drew you.
“awww. this is so sweet and nice.” you return to look at the younger girl, a warm smile showing on your face, “thank you, hyein.” you rub your hand on her hair—something you remember she likes—as her smile widens before she runs away towards her table, where she has a few more papers scattered.
you glance at her before looking at your own stomach, unconsciously rubbing it as you can feel your own child inside you now growing along with time. then, it all came so suddenly when you felt yourself regurgitating, hand coming up to your mouth as you stood up as fast as you could towards the staff bathroom. knocking open the door of the open stall, you kneeled down as you puke out your lunch for today, feeling your gag reflexes kicking in. you sensed a hand soothing down your back as you reached for the flush to drain it down the toilet bowl.
“you okay, (y/n)?” you hear the familiar voice of your supervisor, yoonah, behind you. nodding your head, you reach for the toilet paper and tear it apart as you wipe the remains and saliva off your lips. reaching for the crown that fortunately doesn’t fall when you puke your inside, you hold on to it as you stand up and veer around to the sink to clean your mouth, gargling and spitting out as you wipe the droplets of water from your lips.
“how is it going with the pregnancy?” she asked as you watched her reflection behind yours in the mirror. you nodded your head and chuckled.
“didn’t vomit for the past three days and i thought that was enough, and well, here i am.” you stare at your face, seeing your eyes glistening with tears with the number of times you had to cough out until your phlegm came out. you turn your head to face your boss as she gives you a solemn smile.
“so, i have already talked to hr and we agree to have you reduce your work day to just one per week. you can enter anytime between the weekdays depending on your schedule because you have lots of things to juggle with your ob-gyn appointment. we don’t want to weigh you down more.”
you looked sideways when yoonah didn’t seem to see you being glad of it. though it helps with not exerting your body—as per doctor park’s request—it will definitely reduce your money because of the appointments and others. you haven’t told your parents yet and maybe you can ask them for more money after but with the way your friends have already helped ease your part of the rent so you have enough money for your own diet and consultations; you don’t want them to provide more for you.
“that’s great and all, but what about my pay? can it be adjusted? it doesn’t have to be 200%. like, do I only work one day for a pay of two like usual? or is it the regular one day pay? if it’s the latter, maybe a 25% increase will be great? for the consultations and others…” you said, not realizing that you had a few stray tears leaving out your eyes. nice fucking job, hormones.
yoonah picks up the crown from your head and she places it above your head, straightening it up as it rests right at the top of your head, “i will take about it to hr. you know that i’m on your side with this.” she pats your shoulder as you let out a faint “thank you” and see her walking away out of the bathroom. you brushed the tears away as you wet your hands to help unswollen them, even if it is for a bit. staring at yourself in the mirror, you pull your body up straight as you turn sideways, rubbing your abdomen as you can feel the life being put into you; piece by piece, cell by cell, forming into a human being.
as your feet enter the room one by one, tons of footsteps greet you as you look down to see the crown-wearing kids you are playing tea time with approaching you. their faces showing weariness so explicitly that you feel your heart tugging at them.
“are you ok, miss (y/n)?” hyein—the first one to be there—spoke as she was surrounded by kids taller and older than her. you notice someone holding onto your hand with their tiny one, seeing rami brushing the skin as you feel soothed.
“i am now. thank you, hyein,” you replied, letting your body fall as you kneeled before them, seeing the number of children you have taken care of for the years you had worked here. in your mind, it seemed ridiculous to think of your next move, but in a way that they have taught you so much about taking care of others, it’s proper to tell them yourself.
wiping the corner of your eyes as you feel your hormones acting up again, you speak, “what do you know about your moms?”
“mommy is very sweet to me,” hyunseo replies as she steps forward to stand next to hyein, their height difference looking so cute.
“mom is the one that picked me up from here.” woonhak also replied when you can see his mom’s smile on his own from the number of times she picked him up and showed that same smile.
“both of my mamas are the best in taking care of me and my brothers.” yujin added as there were more children rambling about their mothers, creating a wall of cacophony that seemed more like the background noise you heard each week as you worked. their voices dwindled as you looked expectantly at them one by one, a smile urging them to wait for something to come out of you.
“well, you see, i’m going to be just like your moms.”
yujin was the one that caught on first as he stepped closer and hugged you. while the others still looked confused, he turned around to looked at them and state it himself.
“MISS (Y/N) IS GOING TO BE A MOM!”
“miss (y/n)!”
“no wa-“
you heard the surge of children hugging you as you laughed out loud, seeing yoonah by the door as she also followed your laughter while you were surrounded by the children who were either hugging you or asking you questions.
“settle down, children. miss (y/n) needs a space to take a breather.” yoonah spoke up as she approached you who has a grin on your face.
“you said that you don’t have any king or queen?” yujin said as you felt your cheeks getting warmer, he now held onto the crown that slipped down your head from the number of kids that is surrounding you. while you could feel a hand on your stomach as you looked down to see hyein sitting down—remembering that she also has a pregnant mother with a little sibling on the way for her.
“it, it will be hard for me to explain it to you, but…” you felt yoonah’s hand on your shoulder as you glance at the closest clock in the room—finding the time for them to go home has come. “your moms are waiting for you to go home.”
you push yourself up to stand as yoonah guides the kids to pick their items up by the cabinets as you stand up straight, seeing the children walking around you when you see rami stepping beside you, arms wide open as you crouch down to give her a hug. you felt other sets of arms surrounding you as you giggled, pulling away your arms as the children noticed it.
“i’ll see you all next week!” you stated as yoonah brought all of them to the door of the daycare before opening them, seeing all of them going to their respective parents and guardians as a few of them acknowledged you. you turned around as you started your usual clean-up process, picking up the drawings that the children made and putting them in their own folders so you can give them to their guardians when they graduated, putting back the toys into the boxes, returning the costumes back to the wardrobe as you place the robe and crown you were also wearing, and you wanted to do one more thing, but you heard someone clearing their throat.
“i’ll clean the furniture and floor. you have done so much and you needed to eat and rest.” yoonah told you as you sighed, knowing that you seemed to be hungrier after you vomited out your food.
“thanks, boss.” you winked as she chuckled, bringing yourself to the staff room with the drawing that hyein gave to you—pinning in your mind to collect it with the drawings the kids you’ve taken care has made for you.
when collecting your things into your backpack, you glance at the paper that you printed out from your laptop as you scan the words, seeing your inked signature on the bottom as you see the blank space with the name right across from yours. heeseung’s name.
since he decided to be involved—you remembered while you talked to your faculty about your pregnancy and how they asked who the dad was, you decided to bring him up as a “student from another faculty.” it might make him think twice if he wants to be involved or not because he will get his name pin up on a note somewhere, which will be noted to his coach, lecturers, and more of his status. you are ready to be mentally burnt by the judgment your peers might give you, but is heeseung also ready?
you haven’t thought of the way you’re going to give heeseung the letter when you see minjeong’s name from your vibrating phone as you pick up the things you are bringing home and you hear yoonah talking as she sees you already leaving.
“carpool picking you up?”
“yeah, my roommate and her boyfriend.”
“okay, take care of yourself and i’ll follow up with your request.” you felt yoonah giving you a side hug as you gave a smile and wave when you pushed the door open. you breathed in the outside air to see the dark gray chevrolet camaro parked near the front of the building. walking to the back seats, you opened the door to be met with the music playing as minjeong greeted you.
“how’s work, (y/n)?” she instantly asked as sungchan lurched the car to a drive when you glanced at the bags of things beside you.
“freaking embarrassing. i vomited suddenly when i hadn’t vomited for the last 3 days but the kids reacted to it pretty okay. and i told them i’m gonna be a mom.”
“that’s so sweet!” she said, glancing back from her seat in front of you as she reached to touch you, making you sit in the middle with the console right in front of you as you see sungchan’s playing with the volume of bluetooth-connected car radio play the song that sounds so minjeong—which you can recognized right away.
“what did you guys do today?” you wiggled your eyebrows as you heard sungchan’s laugh from the way he looked at you from the rear-view mirror.
“you know what me and jeongie usually do, eat, shop, fuck, repeat-“
“no, we didn’t fuck today-“
“we did a quickie before we left to pick (y/n) up, winter.”
“okay! ughhh…” minjeong said, rubbing her face in embarrassment before replying, “i brought him to this cafe that has all these criterion collections that aren’t available on any of the streaming services we own. so i bought so many dvds for us to watch.”
“which are?”
“older movies, foreign movies. you did say that you enjoyed watching japanese movies, so i bought some of them for us to watch.”
“fuck, i love you so much for that, kim minjeong.” you replied as you heard sungchan’s little tsk, making you both giggle as his possessiveness is showing at the most ridiculous time.
“so, (y/n),” you hummed to sungchan’s starter words, “you haven’t told me who is your baby daddy.”
“guess!” you tugged yourself forward as your face was between their seats.
“how should i guess when i never see you hook up with people?” he replies as you glance at minjeong who is just watching him, an amused smile on her face.
“what if i say it’s song eunseok,” you mentioned his fellow frat bros.
“eunseok is dating that junior of his he has classes with. and he’s a loyal guy so i don’t think so.”
“what about park jisung? he’s hot in my eyes.”
“you don’t seem to be the kind to hook up with your junior,” he replied, making you squint your eyes.
“zhong chenle? he’s a fellow biz major like i do.”
“you’re definitely not his style.”
“now, that’s rude.” you hunch yourself back on the back seat as minjeong’s giggles compete with the music playing.
“you’re gonna be so shocked if we told you who he is.” she added as you nodded along, “two hints though: he’s our age and he’s a fellow jock-“
“that’s too much, jeong-ah.” you cover her mouth as her muffled nagging rings in the car. you can feel her lapping your palm, tickling your nerves and making you pull away as it’s now sungchan’s turn to have a giggling fit while watching his girlfriend and her roommate bickering. the trip was close between the daycare you work and the apartment tower you rented off-campus—but since you’ve mentioned to your roommates that you’ve been having back pain and vomiting sessions, they decided to help you out by being by your side as they drop you off or picking you up—just like what chaeryeong did as she drop you off to work before going to the dance studio.
so, when you stare out to see the small lobby of your apartment, you’re already with your backpack tucked to you as you open the door of the backseats. sungchan helped widen the door for you before going to the other side to help minjeong with the things she bought from their date. as you stood by the tiled floor of the lobby, minjeong gave sungchan one last kiss on the lips as you heard him say, “bye, babe! bye, (y/n) and hope you rest!”
“see you next week, baby.” the girl said as both you and her are waving your hands at the boy, who has entered the car driving off into the ending sunset of today. stepping inside the entrance of the apartment, you and she enter the empty elevator as you catch a glimpse at what other things minjeong had bought when you see a box from a chicken fast food brand, making your mouth water as you think about it, but you knew that you’ll be nag by dr. park for eating junk food.
pushing the handle after you put the pin on the keypad, you enter and instantly kick your shoes off as you are met with ryujin who is tying her hair up, walking towards you as she helps with minjeong’s bags. the apartment was left as you remembered this morning: a few scattered papers from either you or ryujin’s homework, the weighted blanket by the sofa now folded, and the smell of hot choco on the coffee table alongside ryujin’s laptop as you remembered that she only has online classes today.
“what did you bring?” ryujin wiggled her eyebrows as she rummaged open the bag that you’d seen when she instantly brought it to the kitchen counter when you saw her already cooking something. out of all four of you, you and ryujin are the ones talented in cooking so it’s not a surprise to see her cook for herself, but when you see the large plate that is places beside where the stove is, you know she has been making dinner for all four of you—as only chaeryeong’s the one who is not finished with her work today.
“why did you bring back fast food, minjeong? we promised to also have (y/n)’s diet.”
“that’s my leftover. chan said that the boys had too much stuff in their fridge so i brought it to us.” you then felt minjeong’s hand behind your lower back as she stood beside you, “hope you are okay with that.”
“of course, i’m okay.” you give minjeong a smile. “all of you aren’t obliged to follow my diet cause i know you love red meat, jinnie.”
“it feels wrong if i don’t follow you, though.” ryujin replied as you and minjeong go to your separate ways—she walked to her room while you stepped into the kitchen to see the food that minjeong brought. the chicken was a leftover but you also see her bringing back different meats and seafood.
“i almost forgot to ask you, but can you give me the list of the food that you can and can’t eat? just so i can help with the recipes and so we can pre-made food.” ryujin said as she put her arms behind your back, soothing you as you viewed her making japchae and beef on the pan.
“will do, ryu.” you give her a salute as she gives your cheek a squeeze before you let her be. taking your bag handle as you step towards the direction of your room, the bell of your apartment rings as ryujin turns towards you, making both of you tilt your head as you volunteer to get to the intercom.
when you press the button, the screen shows you someone you don’t expect to see as you can recognize the wolf cut hair you’ve seen while scrolling on your instagram. your footsteps immediately go to the door as you hear the ringing “hello”s from the intercom, opening it up to see the boy you’re trying your best to mask your feelings for with a box.
“heyya, (y/n)!” he replied as you widened the door to gaze at the box.
“h-hi beomgyu.” you give him a small smile as you try your best not to lock your eyes on him. to be having a crush on a boy like him is ridiculous, especially knowing that he is your RIVAL’s best friend. and the fact that you still have a crush on him since high school to then be found being in the same uni as him. if he doesn’t have heeseung by his side, you know you will brace yourself to approach him first. but now with his success as an indie musician, you know you are probably in a losing battle knowing just how spicy heeseung talks about you knowing that he has so many fans aiming at him and how you can’t compete with them—not as much as yeonjun though.
“wha, what’s this?”
“it’s for you.” he pushed the box towards you as you tried to peek inside when you felt a presence behind you.
“let me get that.” another pair of hands open by your side and you see the smirk on beomgyu’s face falter to see ryujin pulling the box against her.
“hi ryujin,” he said, a slight tremble in his voice as you finally be able to look at him with your heart eyes before back at ryujin.
“beomgyu,” she replied before leaving the door to put the box away. you eye the boy who is staring at the empty space for a few seconds too late before you are back in his attention, returning to the cheeky smile you adore.
“thank you for that!” you felt your palms getting sweatier than ever, rubbing one of them against the door to dry it.
“you gotta have to thank heeseung for that.”
the way beomgyu named he-who-shall-not-be-named shutters your fantasy as you were met with the reality. of course, it’s from heeseung, not from the boy you had a crush on—even if it means that the baby daddy trusts his best friend so much to tell him that he is having a baby with his rival. beomgyu seemed to be the nicer guy between the two. so, a girl can hope, right?
“oh yeah, wait for a minute!” you were so caught up in the way heeseung terrors you and slips back into your mind and how you wanted to slam the door when you heard his name when you remembered the paper that he had to sign. you pull the paper out of your folder as you pull one of your sticky notes and write a simple note to him. giving a smile to beomgyu, you handed him the paper as he stared at the words printed on it.
“give it to heeseung and send it back to me after that, or if he wants to submit it himself, then that’s fine. i have to give the contact person the info if he decides to send the paper to the administration himself.”
beomgyu nods as he chuckles at your note before giving a last “i will” before walking and waving away, making you close the door as you wonder how did he know where you lived. eh, that’s fine. you got to see what heeseung gave you as the box rested on top of the counter right beside ryujin who was pouring the japchae into the bowl.
slowly opening it—scared that he might have a jack-in-the-box mechanism inside it—you were met with plastics covering greens as you tugged a few of them out to be met with a bunch of fruits and vegetables still packed in their grocery’s packing. your shoulder meets ryujin’s as she took a glimpse at the new ingredient you picked out of the box.
“from beomgyu?”
shaking your head, you feel a piece of paper inside the box as you pinch it between your fingers. straighten the creases, you see the scribbles on the note as you read it in your mind.
eat them for the baby’s health and your own sanity - lhs
“heeseung,” you replied after you finish. ryujin gives a small hum as you catch the smirk on her face before you shove her with your shoulder. both of you open the plastics of the greens, vegetables, and fruits that heeseung bought for you, ryujin saying out loud the names of the greens as you and her bounce ideas of what kind of food she can make to cater to your diet.
“kale, cabbage, broccoli…” she picked another vegetable, carefully pulling away the plastics as the waft of the smell entered the kitchen. you knew of the vegetable, but being pregnant equals being sensitive to smells. and the way that you instantly wretch at the smell makes you scurry away from ryujin.
“hey, who rang the be-“
minjeong was pushed away as she saw you opening the door of their shared bathroom, making her turn around as she heard you wretch out the remaining food and saliva inside of you that is followed immediately by a flush from the toilet bowl. she walked to the kitchen to see ryujin holding stems of leaves on her hand.
“well, now we know she can’t eat arugula.”
the chime of the lock unlocked rings alongside the opening of the door of their apartment as ryujin and minjeong stare at it, seeing chaeryeong trying to breathe as she takes off her sneakers.
“WHY IS JIMIN PESTERING ME ABOUT (Y/N)?”
-
thumps and squeaks are what beomgyu heard as his eyes gazed at the lights coming out of the gymnasium. his feet working in tandem echoing through the night as he took another glance at the paper, another step away from the door as he pulled the handle to see a bunch of boys running around the wood-floored gym. beomgyu’s eyes searched for heeseung as he bit his lips, not wanting to be late for his own band practice with the boys.
turning towards the bleachers, he’s seen one of the boys that beomgyu remembered being on heeseung’s profile. his hands on top of his knees as he leans forward to see the 3 x 3 half court game beomgyu realized isn’t a part of training—but more of them having fun. he is taking a glimpse at heeseung who is muttering a curse word under his breath because the ball was stolen from his hold.
“hey, uh, sheep!”
the boy turns towards beomgyu with squinting feline-esque eyes before they widen, realizing who called him.
“your jersey has ‘yang’ on it. so i called you sheep.”
“nah, that’s okay. you’re beomgyu hyung, txt’s guitarist…” the boy stands up, their height almost the same as each other, but beomgyu knows that the kid can grow taller—from both basketball and his unfinished puberty phase, probably.
“i’m jungwon! i’m guessing you’re here for heeseung hyung?”
beomgyu glanced down at the paper as he nodded, “i couldn’t stay until he finished cause i have band practice. so, this document is for him to sign.” he told jungwon what you told him as his ghost patted himself on his shoulders for being right. beomgyu uses his thumbs to point behind him after jungwon picks up the paper that he pushed towards him and gives him a thumbs up before a loud "thank you" rings as the gymnasium door opens, leaving jungwon with a slight chuckle creeped out of his lips.
the boy couldn’t stop his curiosity as he turned the paper so he could read the writing, skimming it down as his eyebrows as he couldn’t stop his speech before it was too lat-
“HEESEUNG HYUNG IS A DAD?!”
jungwon’s shout makes movement screech to a halt as he looks up at his boys, also staring at heeseung, who is glaring at jungwon and the paper he is holding. but, his reaction speed was too slow to pull it off his grips as heeseung lost against the other five boys who had huddled towards jungwon.
“shut up!” sunoo exclaimed.
“it’s true, sun,” jongseong replied as he could hear jaeyun and riki screaming and laughing before they scurried to run around heeseung.
“who is this (y/n), hyung?” jaeyun speaks into his ear, making heeseung grimace as the three walk towards the crowd with sunghoon now holding onto the paper.
“isn’t (l/n)(y/n) your senior, jjong?” sunghoon calls out, making said boy read carefully the name with the signature on top.
“oh yeah! we had a marketing communication class together. didn’t know you knew her, hyung.”
heeseung steps in between them as he snatches the paper out of sunghoon’s grip in a quick frame. his eyes scan the paper that is written—the letter to the university administration about your status—and he can see his name printed on the side of the paper from yours. then, he finally read the note you have sticking onto the paper.
sign it and give it to the administration office. if you’re serious.
“won, it’s your turn to play,” he said as the boys stared at him. “i have things to do, plus i have a morning class tomorrow.”
“okay, hyung.” jungwon’s answer was followed by his offer to the older boys to continue the match as he felt another hand holding onto his forearm, turned to see the youngest boy with a small smile on his face.
“you gotta have to let us meet this (y/n) noona. i bet she’s pret-“
“go back to your place, riki-kun. jake’s calling for you.”
“hey, lanky. come on before i make you and jungwon switch.” jaeyun’s voice penetrates through the conversation at the correct moment as the smirk on heeseung’s face is growing. they’re leaving him alone as he walks towards his backpack and duffle bag—finally feeling the surging soreness from pushing himself hard while training and off-training. sure, it’s excessive. but the tournament is a month away from now, and he had to train for that, knowing that the matches would be back-to-back if he passed the quarter-finals.
the wood of the bleachers screeches beneath his body as he pulls out his pen, staring at the paper one last time—trembling breaths coming out from him. who knew that a single signature could hold so much power?
yet with how you are trying to deter him, to remind him that signing this will mean that the whole university will now know lee heeseung is a future father: that actually made him shake. he could feel the boiling anxiousness giving a few pumps of steam into his mind, clouding the plans he had already made in his mind from the information jeongin told him. he knows the future scenarios on both sides.
but fuck it, right? he’s not usually caring about what other people perceive. so what if he is known as a dad in nine months? but, he had to think about the parental leave you’re proposing—it might actually make him graduate late.
yet, the view is clear as he lets his pen glide on the paper.
the baby and your scowling face as you realize that his doing is the one that makes that baby so healthy.
tucking the paper in between his laptop and his wireless earbuds on his ears, he waves goodbye to the boys who are playing with sunoo giving a beautiful lay-up before he pushes the door to get out of the gym. the streetlights shining the pathways as he still can see students roaming around the campus at night—most are going to the library to maybe pull an all-nighter.
the screen illuminates his face as he scrolls down at the text jimin had sent him about you. but he had to do another victory lap first when he dialed the generic full name’s number.
“hello?”
“that will not work, (y/n).”
heeseung heard the grainy chuckle in his ear as he let his muscles’ memories take him home in the night's dark. eyes staring at the path that opens up onto the sidewalk where sparse vehicles are going about on the asphalt streets.
“so you sign it?” he caught the way you sigh against your phone while heeseung is focusing on both the conversation and what jimin texted about your condition.
“and i’ll be giving it to the office.”
“hmm, okay…” heeseung’s eyes scan through the words, letting his face contort and relax as he consumes it to his mind before it’s broken by a grainy sound of metal from your end.
“also, thanks, by the way. for the arugula. made me vomit my stomach out.” heeseung heard you reply as it slowly became more mumbled, hearing you eating your dinner’s food as the noises of the night came back into his cochlea, shaking his nerves as only white noises entertained him as he looked around—seeing his apartment building at the distance.
“and don’t make jimin ask chaeryeong about me again. she’s traumatized now and we have each other’s number saved.”
heeseung didn’t want to save your number at first. but when his mom brought him to her meeting with your mom, catching up after a long time and discussing that both of you have been accepted by the same university, they insisted that you both to have each other’s numbers saved. “for emergency sake, so you both have each other to rely on.” his mom explained, making him discreetly roll his eyes while you continue to listen to your music without giving a glance to him. yet, you’re the one that gave him your phone first so he can type his number, making a small “:p” the first thing you text to him.
“i’ll tell him.” he clicked his tongue as he caught the way you omit another information from him.
“but you’re not gonna tell me you have a doctor’s appointment next week?”
“how’d you kno-“
“jimin, from chaeryeong, and so, from you.” his smile gets bigger. “gotta have to thank jimin for that one.”
“so you want to join? what if you have a class?”
heeseung’s feet brought him to the lobby of his apartment building, his vision now on the elevator as he stated something so obvious to him.
“i have questions and i rather miss class than leave it unanswered.”
-
your hands are tugged inside your hoodie’s front pocket as you wait for your name to be called. the usual soreness is tamed as you let chaeryeong massage your back carefully, relaxing most of the tender muscles that are holding you up. you can see a little bump protruding out of your stomach that was not there when you discovered you were pregnant in week 8.
remembering the way you have to buy five pregnancy tests is ridiculous when your only symptoms are headaches and vomiting. but it quickly escalates to morning sickness and how you notice just how sensitive your senses have become—the way your fingers realize little grains of crayon as you pick up the kids’ drawing to how you’re triggered by little noises coming out off your room. it feels too strange for it to be food poisoning and with all five tests showing two blue stripes: all the problems you have faced for the past month—why your period is late, the morning sickness—all click inside your mind.
your girls were the first ones you spoke to, recalling how they waited in front of your shared bathroom as you flipped the tests around, hitting you one by one with the truth of your condition. then tears start to show as overwhelming emotions compete to show dominance and you hear chaeryeong’s voice from behind the knocks on the door. you open the door to feel them hugging you as you show them the tests, how they can’t wait to be your baby’s cool aunts from differing perspectives as they know of your history related to children, pregnancy, and motherhood from taking care of so many children, how your parents open up to you about why they couldn’t give you a younger sibling, and the responsibility you are willing to take care for them. at that moment they hugged, you’ve already fallen in love with your baby and you are determined to let them have a happy life.
the obstetrics and gynecology department’s walls were more pastel than the other parts of the hospital. maternity pack posters hanging as you read the words, planning your next steps as you waited by the door to your doctor. your fingers interlocked and thumbs twirling around each other as you attentively listen to the open door and your name being called. scouring your eyes around, you saw a little playground area for kids barren as you eyed the small set, mothers around you waiting also for their appointment—some with a sleeping baby in their hands, another with a large bump. the atmosphere is so serene that you can collect your thoughts and arrange them for the next seven months from your due date.
“hey, (y/n).”
your eyes blink as you turn around in your seat to face forward once again, looking up to find the familiar face you’ve been thinking about for the past few days.
heeseung wears a simple hoodie like you do, both of his hands tucked into the front pocket as the strap of his bag crosses his chest. a thin-lipped smile on his face as you didn’t see his usual resting bitch expression.
“heeseung…” you reply as you gnaw on the inside of cheek as he stands there, “i haven’t gotten the call from the doctor yet. so you can sit down.” your eyes glance quick at the vast space beside yours on the sofa you are also sitting down. he gave a quick nod before sitting on the space beside yours, a noticeable space between the two of you as you both lean more against each of the tables placed as the barriers between the sofas. even if you felt a piercing presence beside you, you tried your best not to look at him. the phone call when he called you was the last time you spoke with your voice to him—you having small talk with him as he found in the hospital doesn’t really count—yet he still gave you another box of ingredients for your unborn child this week, no arugula this time.
well, you are glad to see beomgyu more and you don’t mind seeing beomgyu every week if he’s the one that does heeseung’s errands for his child.
both of you stare forward at the doors and wall in front of you, nearing mirroring each other even by the slight twitch of both of you wanting to look at each other. but, also not really. the tension is stronger than when you told him you’re pregnant with his child. the fucking effects of the continued declaration of rivalry as you can calculate how far both of you are willing to push even for the past week and you can guess what you both will push more for the next 7 months.
“miss (l/n) (y/n)?” the door opened as the nurse spoke of your name making you jump up from your seat as heeseung followed behind you to enter the doctor’s room.
“(y/n)!” the young doctor said enthusiastically as you sat down on the chair in front of the desk.
“doctor park!” you answered, cadence matched hers.
“how have you- oh.” dr. park looks at the man entering behind you, looking between the three women in the room and the empty chair near the door before he hears her speak, “is this the dad?”
“yes, i’m the dad, lee heeseung,” he replied steadily as dr. park, who is standing up, shoots her hand out to him.
“i’m dr. park jihyo, (y/n)’s ob-gyn doctor. didn’t expect to meet you as (y/n) said that the dad might not be involved.”
heeseung’s eyebrows were raised, chortling as he realized what you implied, “after she told me, i decided to be involved.” his eyes peek from the side to see you giving a stare with no movements on your lips, sitting down on the chair beside of yours as you want to continue with your appointment.
“well, welcome to your tenth week of being pregnant. how are you feeling?” dr. park asks, looking at you with a warm smile as you see the nurse taking care of your document.
“the morning sickness kinda gets pretty worse and overflows out of the morning. definitely more sensitive towards scent, flavor, and texture. i also have already sensed growth on the bump since it is a bit more protruding than usual.” your hand unconsciously caresses the hoodie covered in your stomach, feeling the tenderness of the skin that is just muscles of your abdomen being pushed to cater to the baby.
“your stomach and intestines are being pushed by the uterus as the fetus grows and it’s very normal. since we already did the blood and urine test and went over your family history back in your first appointment, we can go to an ultrasound to check the growth of your baby.” dr. park replied as she nodded at the nurse who instantly walked to the bed and set things up for your scan.
“i’m sorry to bother you, doctor. but i have a question.”
your head shifts towards heeseung as he asks, the doctor just giving him a nod.
“(y/n) said to me she’ll get a plan b pill after our… time. yet, she still got pregnant, but isn’t that still supposed to work?” the way his voice pitches makes you hold on to a smile, recalling to when you asked the doctor the same question in your first appointment. you gave the doctor a big nod for her signal.
“well, (y/n) said to me she consumed a plan b pill less than 24 hours after your intercourse. but plan b pill, or levonorgestrel, works by delaying the release of the egg from the ovaries. she also said that her period, which started around a week or two weeks before she discovered she was positive, was late. so, we can assume that while you two have sex, (y/n) was already in her early stages of ovulation with the egg being released into the fallopian tube and the egg got fertilized.”
heeseung nods along with the doctor’s words as you remember the same explanation given to you in the previous meeting. you’ve tried using pills before but you know it will affect your hormone and physical health in the long run—you are not a serial fucker unlike a few people you recognize—so you rely on protection like condoms and morning-after pills right after that. heeseung not wearing one makes you want to laugh at how funny the scenario is and how you can just remain rivals for the rest of your life if you remind him to put on the rubber.
the nurse calls for as you follow her, stepping out of your shoes as you lay down on the bed. she gently brushes your hoodie up as your skin is exposed while she also pulls the band of your pants down below right above your underwear line. the chairs move as you glance at heeseung following dr. park as she takes the seat beside you to check on the machinery. the liquid is cold as it touches your skin as your eyes catch heeseung who is looking at the exposed stomach where his unborn child is.
as the transducer spread around the gel on the stomach when you feel it pressed down, you looked at the screen across from you hanging on the ceiling as the doctor moved around, marking the size of your uterus. you heard her gasp as you turned to look at her warm smile that widens into a grin.
“congratulations to you both!” she replied as she continued to move the transducer around, making you and heeseung realize that there’s a fetus inside you, but not just one.
“TWINS?!”
-
2. katana-like knife
heeseung gazes at the ultrasound he is holding with both hands, seeing the way the doctor has assigned twin 1 and twin 2 on the screen. the twins are in different sacs; he remembered what the doctor said, making them fraternal twins. she also says that not only you were ovulating when you two fuck, but you were releasing two different eggs around the same time and he got both of them pregnant.
he recalled both of you doing a hilarious staring contest as you couldn’t stop yourself from making funny faces as the doctor described the growth of your twins. fucking heck, he hadn’t told his friends that he was having twins. how his body trembles as the realization hits him while he’s looking at his babies—yes, plural—makes him even want to be more attentive, to now realize that he had two to take care of. and those two make him know you have to adjust your diet once again.
if it weren’t for him buying ingredients, he doesn’t think you would adapt easily to what the babies need. he’s won on this occasion. but what comes next?
his phone vibrates on the table as he takes a glimpse of the text message showing on the lit-up screen.
(l/n) (y/n): i’m heading home for the weekend. my parents will definitely see that i’ve been knocked up.
even he can see it as he had walked past you before on campus. you’re now wearing more oversized clothing pieces—t-shirts, hoodies, cardigans—as he realized the slight bump on the surface of them. it’s been over two weeks since that check-up appointment and the growth has been faster than he expected.
(l/n) (y/n): not asking you to join me.
(l/n) (y/n): if you aren’t brave enough to take the consequences, i’m fucking winning this :p
“that’s it” he shakes his head as he tugs the ultrasound picture into his wallet before putting it back in its place, hands opening the messages.
lee heeseung: threatening much. i’m in.
if you want to make this a competition, let’s make this a competition.
lee heeseung: hey mom. sorry for texting you randomly. but i’m going back home for the weekend.
all he had to do was wait, as he could hear the sound of his mom talking with your mom on the phone about how their children would be home together, asking to meet up.
and that moment goes exactly as he had expected as he drove the car with you in the passenger seat, leaning against the door as you both let the radio play boring-ass repeating pop songs from some random radio station. none of you seem to react, just to make each other annoyed enough to know who will concede and connect to bluetooth first—even not listening to good-ass music is a competition between you both.
you sighed extra loud as you listened to an old-ass pop song from the mid-2010s the radio seemed to have a lifetime contract for it to play for fucking ever. you wish you were the one driving now, but you didn’t bring your car for this semester because it needed maintenance and you were in a healthier mood for this year. you catch a look at your phone, seeing your mom asking where you are right now as auntie lee has arrived at your home—cooking up the food for all your family to enjoy.
“which one is your car’s bluetooth?” you gave up on hearing the radio station as you playfully checked every menu to find the bluetooth menu.
“the brand of the car, duh,” he answered, still focusing on the highway as you remembered that it’s nearly a few exits away from the side of the town you and he grew up in. he took a glance at the bluetooth speaker as he sees,
“‘mitski’s brainchild personified’? you liked her that much?” he actually snorted, making you see the name on your phone on the screen in the middle of the dashboard.
“shut the fuck up. she’s my comfort musician, just like kaede from slam dunk is your comfort character.” the way your fingers lightly tap against your phone, makes him chuckle as he can hear you holding onto your emotion from not spilling through your words, not commenting on how you mentioned his liking for slam dunk as if you remember it so well, even if it also stuns him.
you’re playing a playlist of yours that is just… instrumentals. a perfect playlist to hear whilst commuting as you let yourself take a breather from this world. eyes gazing to the window outside as you rested your phone on your lap. the scent of heeseung’s cologne accustomed your memories as you let the music speak while you both remained quiet. maybe, because it is an instrumental track that you both couldn’t comment on, that he can’t take a jab at your music taste unless you put on mitski or boygenius, that it gives a soundtrack so vague it resembles the way you perceived your relationship to each. sure, you still hate him for everything he has done to you in the name of winning. but, with two babies on the way, the concept of the rivalry between you both is there yet so blurry. which one is a concrete rivalry? which one is the softer one? why should you trust what he gave to you? why did he join in to take care of them?
the car zooms fast on the highway, yet you can see slower cars on the outside of the highway and faster cars zooming past you on the other lane. it’s like what your dad had said before—"you don’t feel how fast life is until you look at other people’s lives"—and to think that you will be home in overtly large clothing to hide your bump to know that he’s going to be a granddad just concretes the idea of that in your mind. you turn your head to glance at the backseat, seeing the shopping bag you had prepared besides what heeseung also has for his family, who he’ll meet at your house.
stepping out of the car, you stood at the carpool of your house filled with cars—other than yours and your parents inside the garage—when you watched your mom and heeseung’s mom walk out of the porch, barefooted, to greet you. the warmth of your mom’s hug felt so overwhelming that you had to sink your emotions as you blamed your hormones for making you too sensitive.
the interior of the house feels so lively from the last time you went home during the semester break. maybe it’s because of the way your mom has another guest in the form of the lee family and the smell of the delicious you know both of your moms had made together with their aprons still on as they guide you inside. even as they walked to the kitchen, you could hear them whisper.
“since when did (y/n) and heeseung arrive here together and in the same freaking car?” auntie lee asks.
“(y/n) didn’t bring her car this semester so i guess she doesn’t wanna waste any more money for transport.” mama answered.
both of your moms have always tried to make you close and you’ve always tried to tone down your rivalry in front of them, effortlessly acting in front of them as nice friends when you give him a snide look behind their backs any chance you can get. your bickering can escalate so much that you will have a shouting match in the arcade as heeseung doesn’t want to give up his time to play for you, making both of your moms force you to apologize to each other before that bickering returns at school’s classes where they’re not there for you two to mediate. maybe that’s why you don’t perceive heeseung as an enemy. merely a rival; because your mom never talked bad about heeseung no matter what happened between the two of you and it seems that heeseung’s mom has also done the same to him.
the two shopping bags sit on the coffee table as you watch both of your dads talking about dad stuff. heeseung’s attention is on his phone as he’s typing something on the screen while you unconsciously rub your stomach hidden beneath your top, waiting for all of them to settle down around the coffee table as they want to open the shopping bags together.
“what did you bring me?” mama asks in a sing-song manner as heeseung’s mom giggles beside her. you stood beside heeseung with your hands behind you as the husbands looked at the similar-looking gift boxes in each of their wives’ hands.
“don’t tell me. is it the jewelry i showed you those months ago, hee?”
“nah, it’s not. dad’s planning to buy that one for you.”
heeseung’s dad’s face turns into a scowl, seemingly angry as if his son has spoiled his plan while the boy just widens his smile before gazing back at his mom.
“well, together?” mama asked to his mom.
“yeah, 3, 2… 1!”
the box opens as you’re holding your breath, also holding back your smirk as you can view the way papa’s eyebrows crease as he can’t believe what he is saying. heeseung’s mom was the first one to openly express her shock by literally jumping from her seat and box thrown towards his dad’s as he took a good stare at it, making you glance at him you actually won the bidding on who would be shocked first between the two.
“NO, FUCK- WAIT?!” his mom stares between the two of you before your mom jumps from her space to also gaze at you, holding onto the paper. giving him a nudge with your elbow. you didn’t expect him to wrap his arm behind your shoulders.
“yeah… the babies are ours-“
“no fucking way!” your mom actually shouted as she hyperventilates while heeseung’s mom covers her mouth, contemplating on what to do when she felt her body being squished by her best friend, hugging her tight as they turn to hug each other while heeseung’s dad gives his box to your dad so he could see it clearly.
“since when are you two together?” papa asked as you tried to let heeseung’s grip from your shoulder.
“uncle, we aren’t together. we just hook up and-“
“WE’RE GOING TO BE IN-LAWS.” you can hear mama cheer as both of the women twirl around the small space, making you feel even more guilty for breaking the immersion as you stop budging away from heeseung’s hold. rolling your eyes, you stare at heeseung and lean in close to his ear, whispering.
“bad fucking idea…”
“at least they’re happy, right? well, i won because of that.”
mama interrupts both of you as she gives you both an enormous hug while heeseung’s mom comes from behind. you could see the tears coming out of mama’s eyes who rested her head against your shoulder.
“ughh, too tight.”
“stop it, honey! (y/n) looks so uncomfortable.” papa reminded.
“oops, sorry!” your mom lets go of her hold as heeseung’s mom slotted between the two of you as she pushes in on the excess fabric of your clothes, making you grip both sides of your top and pull it backward so she can see your bump already showing.
“hi, baby!”
“it’s babies.” heeseung’s dad cuts in as his wife follows with, “there’s two of them?”
“i swear to god.” heeseung’s old man brushes his face, unbelievable that his wife didn’t see the two sacs from the ultrasound as you give your mom a nod, her hands carefully holding onto your waist.
“fraternal twins,” you confirmed to her as you watched another batch of fresh tears coming out of her eyes.
“hello, you two. you’re going to have the best mom ever.”
“and dad too.” heeseung’s mom replied as she moved to stand in front of you two, seeing his grown son seemingly glowing as she spoke of him being the best dad to his two unborn children.
“okay. i gotta have to make the red meat well done then.” mama cuts out as she hastily moves to the kitchen to cook back her meat-based meal, letting auntie lee replace her place as she caresses the bump gently.
“how long has it been?” she asked as you opened your mouth to reply.
“we did the ultrasound two weeks ago. so it’s week 12 now.” heeseung cuts you off as she gazes back at her son.
“what have you two already prepared?”
“we gave a letter to the university for future parents and they agreed to let me take online classes entering 5 months because i only have three classes, one is that's doing a study case, and they let heeseung have parental leave if i give birth. i haven’t found the right doula yet but my supervisor at the daycare has a connection to one and i think it will be her. she has given me the number so i just have to text her,” you answered.
“is it near campus?” she replied.
“yeah, because i don’t want to graduate late. that’s why i decided to stay near campus during it.” you have thoughts on if you should just take a break this semester to focus on your pregnancy or not multiple times by now. but, of course, the rivalry comes back as you still want to keep pace with heeseung and your friends who will be graduating next semester.
“you should take a semester leave, (y/n).” heeseung cuts off your thought as you peek at him.
“i’ve already got what i wanted from the uni and it’s fine, heeseung. i can keep up.”
“well, you can, but what if you don’t take care of the babies?”
“of course, i can take care of the babies-“
“not by being stressed over college.”
“heeseung-“ you turn your body towards him as you grip both of his upper arms, firm hands holding him as you stare down at him. “i know what’s best for me. i know what my limits are. i’ve trusted you enough with the food but you should also trust me to know how to take care of myself outside of nutrition.”
your teeth are grinding against each other as your fiery gaze stays on him, even as you let go of the grip. it stays for a few more seconds as you turn back to head to the dads who seem to be forgotten by the sofa, seeing papa teary-eyed as he hugs and kisses your head before you let heeseung’s dad hug you.
his mom turns towards him, cupping his cheek. “she knows what she’s doing, heeseung.”
“but how should i know it’s right? cause that’s not right for me. my friend’s mom said that a pregnant woman should focus on preparing herself for her birth and doing college doesn’t seem to prepare her for that.” heeseung sighed as he looked at his mom, not expecting a slight hurt on her face.
“i was still doing my job when i was pregnant with you, heeseung. your dad trusted me for that cause he knows my limits, might be even more than i do. let her be and you might learn that she knows how to take care of herself, too.” her hand brushed away the fringe on his forehead, eyes glistening as she let out a small warm smile at him. the hurt falling away as heeseung sees her mom’s signature smile of knowing before she brought him in his arms, hugging him tight as he glances at you who is giving him a small look with a tight-lip smile before you turn away to the dining room.
-
heeseung stares at the glow-in-the-dark stars sticking on the ceiling. his back being stretched out on the floor as he laid on the comforter beside the single bed where you’re still playing with your phone. he remembered how he begged—trying to persuade—his parents to bring him home with them. but knowing that he’ll only be staying for one night and you two are “together”, they decide for him to stay with you instead. you can see how his fuming breath was held as you glanced at him with an unidentifiable look at the dining table, his parents believing you would let him stay in your bed.
but he insists on lying down on the floor, knowing the history between the two of you they don’t know, as you silently agree.
printed pictures still hang on one side of the room when he looks at them as long as the bedside lamp is still on. he remains silent, eyes tired from looking at his phone so much to distract him from his reality when he hears the rummaging movement on the mattress as you put the phone on the table.
“well, night, heeseung.” the click of the lamp is big in the white-noised room as darkness envelops the space, letting in the moon and streetlights outside beam their shine inside. your eyes easily adjust to the surroundings as you puff your one-less pillows on the bed to find the right position—knowing the ache of sleeping in the wrong position when you are carrying two fetuses inside you.
“since when did you work in a daycare?”
the man’s words overcome your action as you brush the cover of the pillow.
“why do you wanna know?” you put the pillows in the right position as you lay your head and back against it.
“since your mom proclaimed that you’ll be the mom ever.”
heeseung is reminded of the way you look when your mom says that, a look of pride coming out of your eyes as you unconsciously nod knowingly. even if you and him are close by proximity—by being your moms’ children, by being schoolmates, by having roommates who stay in proximity with each other—there’s still something that you don’t know about each other. because if the opposites know, they can use it as leverage to bring any of the two down.
“had a few babysitting gigs during high school days. i started to like it more and decided when i go to hybe, i’ve volunteered for a non-formal school for children and more. i decided to do a part-time job at a daycare and yeah…” you replied, laying down by your side as if you could see heeseung beside you when he is, in fact, below you.
“it doesn’t match with your major though.” heeseung gives a snide comment as you sigh loudly.
“so what if a business major can’t connect with my passion for childcare- fuck me.” you stopped to remind yourself to stop taking the bait from heeseung because you know he was making these comments to break your confidence within yourself. you could discuss how making and taking care of a business could resemble making and taking care of a child, but with the way he had pissed you off today in more ways than one, you rather stick that thought to yourself and instead, take offense towards him.
“why did you wrap your arm around my shoulders?”
heeseung glances towards the bed, seeing your silhouette on the top forming a dark shadow because of your comforter shielding it.
“i had to. so they know the babies are ours,” he replied with the thought that first came to mind after he already had his arm behind you—blaming his underlying consciousness for doing that.
“and it makes them believe we’re together when we’re not. look at us now.” both of your arms stretch out of the comforter to tell him just how big the situation you got yourself into cause how many white lies must you tell your parents to hide that this is because of a hookup, not because you are romantically linked?
your staggered giggles drop as you try to glance downwards at him, the arm nearest to the floor left hanging as heeseung didn’t comment on what you said. “well, this just got more complicated.”
“our situation is complicated since the start, (y/n).”
“well, i know who to blame for making our strings get more tangled with our parents cause fuck you, heeseung.”
he saw the lone middle finger standing tall from the silhouette of your figure before you picked yourself up and lay all your weight on the bed, turning the other side as heeseung followed; both of you staring at the opposites of the room, knowing that your bodies needed to rest so you can face each other again in the morning.
the time between that night and how you both lived after you went back to your own places near campus was a week when you texted him about the doula that you had told at your parent’s home. the car was left in neutral with the handbrake lifted as heeseung waited at the daycare where you work. his eyes gaze at the differing modes of transport each guardian is picking up the kids with before looking at the lobby as he sees you and another attendant saying goodbyes to the kids. he watches as a few of them hug you and even a few let their cheek rested against your growing bump before you take a glance forward at them who is going back to be with their parents, noticing his car for a few seconds before you return inside to take your items.
the backpack is hanging off your shoulders as you take another sliced fried potato from the container when you enter the passenger’s seat beside his driver’s one, resting your back against the seat with your bag there to support you. “hello! i’ve sent you the address, right?”
he stares at you with his squinting eyes, “you should not eat that.”
“it’s cravings, heeseung. it’s totally normal. the doula can count me on that.” you chew another fry as heeseung lets out a mumble under his breath as he moves the handbrake and puts the gear to drive, reeling the car forward as he drives you to the doula’s office. both of your moms have suggested several doulas for you to choose from, but you reminded them you’re having twins. so having a doula who specializes in taking care of moms birthing multiples will be helpful as it is also your first time.
playfully, you fly a french fry like an airplane towards heeseung as he drives, like the usual time you try to feed kids at the daycare. it nudges against his lips a few times before he bit it, pulling it off your fingers; making you let out a chuckle cause he can’t even resist it himself.
the parking lot was pretty barren as you only saw a few vehicles when you both walked out of the cars. you adjust the backpack once again on your back as the chime from the car tells you it is now locked as you enter the office building.
thanking the receptionist, you and he stood in front of the doula’s office as you knocked the door.
the door opens as a soft-spoken woman says from the inside, “miss (l/n)(y/n)?”
“yes, i am.”
“oh, come in. come in.” the door widened as heeseung could see the things inside the large office room. a desk in one corner and a cabinet stood behind it. accolades and certifications by the desk with a sofa on the corner beside the door. a box of what seems to be baby toys beside the sofa as posters are hanging on the wall. from the anatomical look of a baby inside their mom’s uterus to words of encouragement towards mothers.
“i’m haseul. nice to meet you.” the woman shook your hand as she then glanced at heeseung who was still wandering around.
“oh, uh, this is heeseung, the babies’ daddy.” you refer to his name as he looks at the lady, shaking her hand as she looks between the two of you.
“so, both of you aren’t married or dating-“
“no, we’re childhood friends and hooked up, and this happened.” heeseung blurts out as you raised your eyebrows, poking your tongue in the cheek. haseul nodded her head as she let both of you sit down in front of the desk.
“first, congratulations on the twins. you must be nervous to find that out.”
“of course, especially as a first-time mom. but, i’m feeling pretty okay.”
“that’s good, i’ve also sent you the questionnaire for you to fill on your plan for giving birth…” haseul’s voice traces out as heeseung glances at the portrait frame of her holding onto a baby with a mom, a glance at the book about post-partum, and a baby doll on top of the cabinet right in front of a corner window. he could only catch onto some words he recognized from jeongin telling him—birth, dilation, cramps, anesthesia, cesarean—as he sensed himself getting overwhelmed, especially when he had the second preliminary match in two days and his gig in being the documentation for a baseball match for hybe uni too.
his thumbs caressed his fingertips as he sensed the sweat forming on his palm, the same feeling he has every time he has to go to match. to then realize just how ready you seem by how eloquently you say the words for your requests to the doula like you’ve grown up much more than he is even though both of you are the same age. sure, he felt the leverage the first time when he sent you food and a few tips he makes beomgyu do; but his knowledge couldn’t compete with yours and it scares him to know he is losing his stance from above you. to know that you’re much more ready than him.
“heeseung…” he heard someone calling for him, before something wrapped around his wrist, taken aback to see you brought him back to the room he was in.
“sorry… what did you say?” heeseung replied as haseul gave him a warm smile.
“i’ve heard from (y/n) that you have known some knowledge of pregnancies but i could give you some sources to read because it is your first time as a dad as well.” the woman said to him calmly, looking at heeseung as if she can read his body language. your hold on his wrist stays as you rub the inside of his wrist with your thumb. “we have also discussed that (y/n) will try the normal route with water birth and if she can’t handle it, she’ll be going with cesarean. we could also do an appointment every two weeks as both of you are students now, but it is best if you come so you can understand each process as she is entering the second trimester.”
“i understand. i’ll try my best to set my schedule so i can join her.” heeseung glanced at you, who was giving a nod before you let go of your hold as he seemed to be anchored back in the room. the woman gives a small smile as she starts a lecture on the process of pregnancy, childhood, and parenthood. another class that heeseung doesn’t want to get in the first place, but knowing his determination to be the best dad ever—as what his mom believes him to be—he follows along with writing notes in his book as you have with your laptop. the class that he has to pass so he can take care of his children as best as he can.
-
even with the music booming from around his space, heeseung still felt like something was different. his eyes rested on the plastic-colored cup filled with a concoction of alcohol he didn’t know—he could taste the gin and what seemed to be fanta in it. the sigma mu’s frat house lits up in motion as he eyes the way the expensive big-ass speakers are scattered around the room, gazing at the familiar faces of his peers and juniors he has seen while walking around campus.
something stirs within him as he eyes his friends who are here—beomgyu who is by the speaker as he talks with the dj, jimin with his dance crew friends, jeongin with his class friend, while heeseung sits with sunoo and sunghoon on either side of him. that’s when he caught onto the silhouette of some familiar faces every time he comes across a certain person; every time he comes across you.
“excuse me, gang.” heeseung would like to thank himself for being able to stand up so stable even with the nearly empty cup, excusing himself from his basketball teammates to walk towards the frat boys of sigma mu to find the vp and his girlfriend by his side.
“winter…” he calls with the nickname he heard you and others call her before as said girl turns towards him with her boyfriend’s arm still behind the sofa.
“lee heeseung.” she spoke out with a grin on her face, “what makes you come in front of us?”
“i was wondering,” ‘fuck it’ heeseung drinks up the whole liquid that remains inside the cup, hoping that his alcohol tolerance still be able to support him to be stable, “has (y/n) ever talked to you about a doula check-up or some other thing?”
“she should’ve told me if there’s gonna be a checkup but i don’t think there is one nearest from now.” minjeong replies as she lets sungchan take care of her drink so she can comfortably talk to the boy in front of them.
“ah, really?”
“yeah!” minjeong replied before giving another smile. that’s when someone crashes to wrap their arms around minjeong and sungchan, making the two jump as they turn to see ryujin’s head between both of them before giving minjeong a peck on the temple.
“hey, (y/n)’s baby daddy. whatchu up to?”
heeseung chuckles as he looks between the two girls—”no wonder you have them as your friends, all of them are similar after all”—before he opens his mouth.
“just checking what’s (y/n) up to-“
“well, she’s not here. for your information.” ryujin lets out a smirk, “you must really wanna talk to her about something.”
“a doula appointment.” sungchan replied, “and you know how (y/n) is about…” the boy glances at, “him.”
heeseung’s teeth grit against each other as he senses they are hiding something from him. maybe because of your doing so you can prove to everyone that he isn’t as committed to his children as he spoke about.
“you and minjeong aren’t home, so i presume (y/n) is with chaer-“
“someone’s calling my name?”
heeseung sighs as he turns towards the voice of chaeryeong who is holding two cups of drinks as she gives one to ryujin.
“he’s asking about (y/n).” minjeong nods toward chaeryeong when she lets out a small ah before turning her head to stare at heeseung.
“since chan here invited all four of us at the frat party, she really wanted to be here but, of course, cause she’s preggo with YOUR children, she couldn’t. but all of us went out of the apartment together and she was holding a duffle bag of some sort.”
“where is she going?” heeseung doesn’t hesitate to ask, making your three friends look at each other and giggle.
“you seem desperate enough. she’s at the park near our apartment complex. she complained about needing a light workout because of how much her back is hurting.” ryujin said as heeseung could picture the park, knowing where you lived because he had picked you up for your trip back home for the weekend.
“okay, thanks all of you.” heeseung places the cup on the table beside the sofa where minjeong sits and turns away, letting the sense of fresh air flowing inside the frat house guide him to the nearest exit as he arrived on the pavement, feeling the stuffiness inside him getting lighter as he gave a text in his group chat he’ll be leaving early.
the walk there was pleasant, to say the least, because the suburban town the campus is in is pretty sparse compared to the city where heeseung and you live. there is enough place for it to be called a big town but not enough skyscrapers to be called a metropolis. and with the inconsiderable amount of apartment complexes available near campus, he already pinpointed the park where you might be.
crossing the black-and-white stripes, he arrived at one of the entrances of the park where he still could see a few people doing their activities inside—night jogging, playing chess under the streetlights, and a couple who was on a date. he was reminded of what ryujin said about how you might need exercise, but the duffle bag says to him you might stay in one place rather than walking around the park as the main event of your exercise time.
heeseung’s feet instantly brought him to the place that he had gone before in this park as it is the same park near where sunghoon, jay, and jake live—maybe they live in the same complex as you do—when he finds the silhouette lightly jog behind the trees from the path he is on. the sound of rubber meeting the concrete slaps across the night’s atmosphere as he sees you in the middle of the basketball court, wearing a sweatshirt where he could see the bump pushing against the fabric. the basketball bouncing between your palm and the ground creates the familiar sound as you jog toward the ring and shoot your shot. the ball hits the backboard enough that it bounces into the basket.
“fuck yes…” you exclaimed as you grabbed the bouncing ball into your hand, heaving as you brushed the sweat of your skin right underneath the spotlight shining on the court.
that’s when you pick up the scraping on the concrete and clap when you turn around to look at the last person you want to see tonight.
“you still got it,” heeseung commented, making you scoff as you took a few steps back so you stood adjacent to the free throw circle. holding up the basketball between your hands as you tried to remember the position before pushing towards the ring. the basketball curves as it hits the edge of the box instead.
“dammit!”
“you spun your ball,” heeseung replies as the ball flies into his arm, naturally guiding it into a dribble as he walks towards you.
“i didn’t.”
“your wrist was twisted and it makes your hand doesn’t flop straight towards the ring.” he walks towards your side as he shows you the way to hold it, making you glance at the arm muscles that form from holding the ball so much as he throws the ball, creating a perfect arch that it bounces on the back of the rim before it flies and the basket catches its fall. your body immediately reaches for it before heeseung can as you return to your spot whilst dribbling alternating between left and right.
“i know.” you lightly roll your eyes as you grab onto the basketball once again, wiping your sweat palm against your sweatshirt before you feel the right grip as you return to your position, reminding yourself to let the ball fly and not twist your ball before you threw it.
you heard a click of the tongue as you saw a pair of hands reaching to hold yours, making your hand move to the position as you picked up heeseung’s breath beside your ear. startled, your shoulder nudges against his chest as you hear a small “ack” before you throw the basketball, seeing it twirl in the air. you can hear heeseung saying “i told you so.” before it bounces against the backboard, but you are ready as you stride towards it to grab the ball before heeseung catches it and you quickly do a layup, gliding the ball as it bounces right at the small box above the rim as it bounces inside. you turn your body to face him, head tilted with a smug smile as the ball bounces before it rolls to heeseung’s feet.
but the smile falls as you see heeseung who is in his element, walking back to the three-point line and shooting his shot as the ball, once again, creates a perfect arc. the basket catches it into its net as heeseung walks towards the center of the court with a wide grin on his face. the ball bounces near you as you hold it and dribble once more, glancing at it, the court, and heeseung once again as you shake your head, scolding yourself to take things slow for your and your babies’ sake. the sudden epiphany makes your eyelids flutter as you dribble away at a steady walking pace around the court.
your footsteps are met with another as heeseung’s legs stride towards you, a smirk on his face showing as he replies, “that’s why you were put in the point guard position.”
“hmm…” your reply is small as you continue to dribble away the basketball, making you and he walk around the court together before he cuts through the silence.
“why did you stop playing basketball in high school?”
your body stood still as you let your muscle memory do your job of dribbling the ball, shifting your head towards his even if you look away.
“you were, well, it seems to be still are, good at it,” he added.
the memories of your first year in high school from the extracurricular showcase come back as you are already determined to stop playing basketball, focusing on doing something else that you were interested in.
“i got tired of it,” you replied, but heeseung seemed to notice that it was not all the truth.
“and…”
the ball stops bouncing as you hold it against you, wrapping your arm across your front along with the ball as you glare at him and reply, “you.”
“me?”
“yeah, you. i stopped playing because of you.” you turn around and set your eyes on the bench where your bag is. your water bottle calling for you so you can hydrate yourself as you give in.
“really, huh? wow, that was another victory i didn’t expect-“
“fucking hell, heeseung. that’s why- this-“ you gulped down your saliva, “what you become because of it is why i stop. i know our moms are outstanding basketball players at their time and we’ve gotten the signal to be like them but-“ you hold back as you throw the bottle inside the bag, holding yourself down as your hands form fists.
basketball has always been a large part of your life before you were even born. your mom and heeseung’s met because of their love of basketball as they became skilled players together. your mom and dad meet up because of basketball. you still remember the amount of pictures of your parents in their high school days in their basketball jerseys in the photo albums. even if they don’t pursue it professionally, it still becomes a large part of their life as it also spills onto you.
with the amount of time you have interacted with children—as it makes you see your own experience as a child in a different view—many of them like to mimic what their parents do before they form their own sense of self. you can see it with the way one child at the daycare is always playing doctor with dolls, figures, and plushies because one of their parents is a doctor. you were like that. you’ve heard and seen just how impactful basketball is to your mom that you want to be just like her, making you join the teams during your elementary and middle schools.
to see and feel the influence of your rival during practice and tournaments around you was overwhelming.
the tug-of-war between the basketball in between both of your hands is just the beginning of what kinds of rivalry you and him have during practice. even if your coaches assigned you to the same team, you or he, depending on who is first, will reach out to the coach to be put into the other team. even if you two had to practice together, hidden aggression is flying to the roof, which includes passing the ball so hard that it had even made your nose bleed. as time goes on and the many matches you and he have to compete in as you two have to watch each other to “encourage” each other’s team, you had notice the way you fell out of love of basketball because of how there are more bad memories associated with it even if you were being trusted as a captain for one season and scoring many buzzer beaters to let your team and school win the tournament.
“you’ve become so much better with it as i lost interest. i still remember when the coach brought me to the nurse’s office cause you passed the ball so hard that it hit my face. in the middle of practice for the last season in middle school, that’s when i knew…” you take steps closer as you now stand in front of him.
“i knew i’m in a losing battle against you.”
your muscles twitched as you wanted to let out a smirk when you noticed the hidden expression heeseung failed to hide, the little shock he had gotten to show. yet, the emotion that is enveloping you held it down, as you now had to tell him the truth. why your rivalry seemed to expand outside of the scope that both of you are in.
“that’s why i quit basketball. that’s why i decide to pursue my own path even with you tailing behind me to comment on my every move. because i am sick of you. yet, i held back. i had to retaliate, just like what i did on that fucking playground when we were 5. cause i’m not afraid of you even though i know i’ll lost in the end.” you chew the inside of your cheeks as heeseung seems to read your face while letting his brain figure out what you meant.
“that’s why i wanted a fucking truce.”
with the way your facial muscles contort, it hurts you more and more as you feel the tears of pain forming, harboring the feelings you have felt for nearly two decades now. with your hand raised, you wiped the small drop of tear as you let out a huge breath, feeling just a bit of the weight in your rivalry falls off—right along with you.
as you let your body sit on the concrete ground, you push yourself back slowly as you settle and lay on it. heeseung’s conflicted face peeking from your vision while you’re trying to blur it out by focusing on the night sky. though the light pollution is still around you, you can still see tiny specks of stars behind the shadow of clouds of the night. stretching your back on the ground as you let your backbone rest after trying to make you stand upright while carrying two growing fetuses.
eyelids close, you let nature take control in calming your emotions and let heeseung process the information himself. the first time you truly open up yourself behind the mask of your persona—maybe when he stays the night in your childhood room is one as you recall your feet resting against his sleeping figure, contemplating if you want to wake him up or not before gazing at the dusting basketball that you decide to bring back to your apartment after papa helps in blowing more air so it doesn’t sag too much.
the sound of rustling leaves seems to be louder as you rest still, hearing a muffled thump beside you as you open your eyes, looking at your feet to then find another pair lying down right beside yours.
“you’re the one that was throwing a fit and ruining my toy truck after i apologized.” you sighed as you took a peek to see heeseung’s head turning towards you, asserting dominance once again before looking back. you knew that if you replied with the same vibe to assert your own dominance, it would actually break you apart faster than the rate that you are now. however, you have one question that will be the right one to ask him about.
“did you mean that?”
“‘mean’ what?”
“the apology? did you mean that? cause i want you to look at it from my eyes, lee.”
heeseung traces back to that memory when he sees you teary-eyed face and his mom beside him, the boys he was playing with snickering on the side as they saw him getting in trouble with his then-friend. the “sorry” mumbled out of him with his eyes on you but mind on the boys, who seemed to not snicker at him, but at you for being a pissy fit. but, deep down, he knew…
“i meant it.” his reply makes you turn your head, mirroring his form as you let out a slight pout.
“with that smile you were giving? hell no-“ you rolled your eyes.
“i genuinely meant it. the boys that were there, they were behind you and they were laughing at us. i had to juggle facing you and them. i had to look fierce yet still can give you an apology. maybe that’s why you see the smirk that you see. i was a fucking child, (y/n). we’re not as good as we are not in hiding complicated emotions to only let out one.”
your chest rises and falls as you see the apology smirk in a different light. you don’t know if you should easily believe that or not, but after taking it into consideration, you could feel a small part of your inner child healing up before you realize the damage that you also have done to him.
“if it is genuine; i’m sorry, then. about the truck. you know how i felt now and why i did that.” you return to look at the sky once again as you hear the rustle beside you before peeking at heeseung who is also staring into the night, listening to him humming before you return to gaze back again.
“what would happen if i actually have the emotional intelligence to know that you were sincere that day?” your words cut off the silence as you felt the guilt pouring for it to be transformed into humor that was reciprocated well by heeseung’s chuckles.
“well, we wouldn’t have these two.” he playfully poked your belly, making you let out a small shriek before holding onto his wrist as you held his hand down between the two of you and you pivoted your head to see him.
“in all seriousness, i think we might have been the friends our moms see us to be because let me tell you, they see us differently than what we are having.” his words are replied with a hum as you added,
“i notice that too. glad we can be more civil in front of them.”
“we still could, you know.”
with the way you didn’t hold on to his wrist tightly, you felt the limb moving under your touch before his palm rested underneath your own. the wind blows against your sweaty top as it gives you shivers from the cold, hoping that your own temperature and a lifeline can help warm it up. and you can feel it warmer as you see heeseung pivot to mirror you. his fingers slid between yours as if he knew the little shivered breath you led out.
“have each other’s backs. emulate what they want.”
your eyes are galloping to the way the spotlight shines half of his as the other one is cast in shadows from facing the concrete. you could smell a faint scent of alcohol on him but with the life in his eyes, you knew he wasn’t drunk. the way his eyes are also peering with slight twitches as before connecting with your gaze.
pushing one side of your upper body, you cup onto heeseung’s cheek as he leans up to connect your lips. your shoulder is pushing down against the ground as heeseung’s grip on your hand tightens, making it steady as you can hear his muffled hum from your kiss. your fingers curl to hold yourself up better before you feel his other hand reach for your waist and push you down so you both lay on the side.
both of you take turns to take a breath as you sense the tip of his nose brushing against yours. every time you let out a breath, the other’s lips linger before connecting once. your legs curled as you felt the ticklish sensation surging through your nerves before heeseung pushed your lower back so it could stay for one last long kiss before he pulled away. your noses touch each other as you feel his hand on your waist trails to your bump, pressing it down gently as you lean back to see him looking down at the body he is holding. then, his eyes flick back to you as he can sense you slip away, turning yourself away from him as you push yourself up with your arms.
grabbing the lone basketball and putting it in the duffle bag, you zip it up and shift to find heeseung now upright, yet still with his legs stretched out on the ground.
“baby steps, heeseung.” you pull away before giving a small salute.
“baby steps.”
your voice echoes as heeseung watches you walk away, biting his bottom lip before a chuckle falls out of him as he knows he had to text you back his question about the appointment, knowing that you will reply to him.
-
beomgyu breathed out as the elevator opened up to the now familiar hallway, holding onto the box that he had still had to bring even if heeseung already told him he’ll do the next one himself because of what he told him. the box held fresh ingredients that jeongin also pinpoint—courtesy of his doctor mom—on what you should eat, considering now that there are two of them inside you. beomgyu couldn’t help but feel melancholic knowing that this was the last time he’d probably visit your apartment complex as… well…
but, other than bringing you today’s box, beomgyu is here to pick you up for the doula appointment as heeseung will follow suit after practice. even his bandmates are weirded out as to why he has to do the errands, but knowing that they’re in the process of rest mode whilst preparing to create new music and focusing on academics, he allows it, especially with how long he has been best friends with the guy.
he huffs as he positions the box again against his upper body, sliding his pointer finger to the bell as he picks up the familiar bell sounding in the room. but it seems like there’s no one inside. he’s glad that he remembers the pin ryujin has given him as he pushes inside the door to see the clean empty living room of the apartment he has been in countless times when he had to put the box in himself. pushing off his shoes, he walks to the kitchen and places the box on the island counter before rushing towards the intercom to turn off the bell.
that’s when he heard the noise of something familiar.
a guitar strumming sound of chords and the changes he recognized.
beomgyu took tiny steps towards one of the ajar doors in the hallway as the realization of the familiar sound widened his eyes. of course it was familiar to him, it was his song.
the nearly acoustic rendition of “skipping stones” with a familiar voice he had heard makes him peek through the door to find you sitting cross-legged on your bed, holding a nearly all-white guitar as you strum while having headphones on your head, singing the daylights out as your window lets the stream of lights in through the window. he lets you sing as he can see you glow—jeongin had mentioned to him that pregnant women have this whole glow on them. maybe that’s what he was seeing in you. the way your fingers glide against the fretboard with your eyes on it or close as you sing the lyrics makes beomgyu mesmerized.
the last ring of strings strummed is heard from your rumble speaker when you notice clapping from outside of your headphones, making you look up to find beomgyu behind your slightly open door. his clapping turns to hollering as lets out a wide thin smile before looking away; you don’t want him to see you flustered. that is when you realize why you’re here.
“oh fuck, the doula appointment.”
“yeah!” beomgyu replies outside as you quickly tidy the guitar up into your case and you step into your wardrobe to grab some more clothes that are much more appropriate for your appointment.
“sorry, about that. beom.”
“nah, no worries. i can wait.”
“thanks!” you close the door as you quickly change your clothes, deciding for a flowy blouse with a rubber-banded culotte, needing to remind yourself to buy maternity clothes because you are slowly running out of clothes that fit you. you wore a bit of sunscreen as you got a message from mama telling you to embrace the pregnancy glow your friends seemed to notice is exuding out of you as you’re in the second trimester. wearing the eau du toilette that doesn’t make you as dizzy—unlike perfume—you open the door to see beomgyu leaning against the wall where it hangs a frame of you and your roommates in photo booths.
“you ready?” he held his hand out as you nodded, you put your hands out before beomgyu grabbed the strap of the bag from your hold, startling you before you returned to your usual state. if your face isn’t warm enough, it’s now warmer from the embarrassment.
the walk down to his car is silent as he helps with buckling the seatbelt to the side. seeing how much your stomach is rested underneath the strap makes him giggle as you recognize the smell of pot from beomgyu’s very appropriate old sedan car.
“hopefully you aren’t high while driving me.” you give a cheeky grin.
“of course not. heeseung will actually kill me if he finds that i dui with you.”
beomgyu twists the key of the ignition as the car turns on—yes, that’s how old his car is—as the sound of a loud rock song plays from the rock fm you recognized. his hand reaches for the button as you react,
“no need. i’m okay with it.”
he hums as he reaches for the volume to turn the sound down, not letting the rattling of the sound in the interior startle you as he pulls the car out of the parking space and into the road.
“can you check the quickest route to the office?” beomgyu said as he brushed his wolf-cut hair.
“of course.” you lean back against the leather seat as you open the map app on your phone, telling beomgyu the roads to the doula’s office. the song has changed to a familiar song by tom petty playing as you notice how beomgyu glances at you.
“what?” you called out with a few chuckles.
“i didn’t expect you to like my song, well txt’s song.” his reply is met with your own giggle as you lean back.
“even if i hate heeseung. that doesn’t mean i have to hate his friends, you know?”
your eyebrow is raised as he gives another quick look before focusing on the road, “if you don’t believe me, i’ve been a fan of band your band since, like, sophomore year when you formed.”
“why? i really wanna hear from a fan's perspective.”
your giggle warms his heart as you answered, “i just relate to it, ya hear? a band that talks about the hardships of finding oneself and the struggle of growing but in a more intelligible way other, especially ‘skipping stones’ from your newest album.”
both of beomgyu’s hands are on the steering wheel as you feel the brake of the car before turning to the curb of where the office is, parking nearest to the entrance as the car stops and he pulls the hand brake. both of you sitting inside as you waited for heeseung to arrive in a few minutes from the last time he texted you.
“why ‘skipping stones’ specifically?”
“hmm…” you suppressed the grin that is threatening to go out before replying with, “interpreting self-struggle with the idea of skipping stone is… in it of itself, very poignant. to correlate the body of water with your own and the stones you’re throwing as the struggle you’re facing.” you let out a huge sigh, “i don’t know- it’s something i understand, especially if someone else is doing the skipping stone to you, feeling that emotion sinking into you, replacing the water’s place…”
you glanced at beomgyu who was definitely staring at you, his hands on his lap as he let out a solemn smile, agreeing with what you said. you quietly nod and take a sharp intake, trying to find the right words to cut the rising awkwardness between the two of you, “other than that, the freaking dissonance on the harmony is so good. it gives a sense of unbalanced buoyancy as if you’re a leaf floating on the water and the skipping stone makes it unstable. great job on that.”
“thanks!”
“of course.” you nearly slapped yourself for leaning closer to the middle console, but beomgyu seemed to not react as much when you felt a bit of your finger touching his. “can’t wait for the next release. no pressure.”
the corner of beomgyu’s lips rose as he giggled, a boyish grin on his face before his expression changed, “don’t worry, me and the band won’t let the fans down.” he replied as you leaned back, head nodding. that’s when you hear the rumbling of the car right beside yours as you see the appearance of heeseung’s newer model car.
“gotta go. thank you so much for bringing me here,” you said as beomgyu helped pick your bag up from the backseat.
“of course, (y/n). gotta have to thank heeseung for letting me do so, but hey…” you felt his hand reaching and now touching your wrist, making you turn your body while nearly opening the door.
“i've known you since high school but we never hang out together cause of heeseung. maybe we could hang out, with your girls and my guys? if heeseung is already melting his ice down then i think that’s okay for us and our friends to hang out. it’s up to you, though.”
you suppress an amused smile as you think about it. thinking about how long have you been crushing on the boy in front of you and how you wanna shake heeseung a thank you for letting him do the errands, maybe even to your noise-canceling headphones that make him notice just how much you like him- no, his band. yeah.
“i’ll think about it. heeseung and i don’t have a formal truce yet but based on what we talked about last time, maybe it could work.”
“sweet-“
you heard a knocking on the door before you turned around to catch heeseung’s silhouette behind the glass window.
“i’ll talk to the girls so we can arrange a time.”
“me too with the guys.”
“okay, bye beomgyu.” the car door unlocks as you nuzzle the door open while hearing beomgyu’s own “bye” from the driver’s seat. heeseung helps to hold the door as you step out.
“thanks for her ride, gyu.”
“don’t mention it, hee. we might even have to ride with her often.” beomgyu said right as the door that heeseung held closed. the engine turns on as the car drives off the parking. you stand right beside heeseung as he looks at you, who still has a lingering smile on your face.
“why are you smiling, (y/n)?”
he lightly nudges your palm with his as you turn your head to him.
“you’ll see, hee.” as you took off towards the office, leaving heeseung once again alone as he then followed you.
Tumblr media
part 2
taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @reallysmolrenjun @stelanity @possibly-zoe0218 @enhypenilycometoaus @jaysupremacy @jungwoneez
© writingmochi on tumblr, 2021-2024. all rights reserved
1K notes · View notes
lilithandherharlots · 11 months
Text
Too shy to tell you
miguel o’hara x fem!reader
Miguel hides your heals in hopes of making you forget you ever owned a pair...he confesses about his theft during a hot and heavy night of sex.
Warnings: This might be interpreted as possessive or an unhealthy bond. Though its supposed to be just a very shy and respectful Miguel who let's loose during sex.:]
Authors note: I am not a writer!! This is my first time righting fanfic.. like.. ever!!! So don't attack me. Though honest, constructive criticism is something that I would love to hear. Sorry if there are spelling mistakes. Also, I don't know how to put proper description..... enjoy!!!!
:::
"Miggy?" I call out to my boyfriend who's currently towering over the coffee machine, waiting for it to brew.
"Yes, my love?" He responds with a look over his shoulder.
"Have you seen my black pointed heals? I can't seem to find them."
"No. Have you checked by the door?" He was lying.
He was lying. He was lying, and he didn't feel bad about it. The truth was he had stuffed them in the highest cupboard of the laundry room. He knew you couldn't reach it. He liked it that way. He couldn't let you open it since he had stuffed at least 4 pairs of heals in there.
"No miggy, they aren't here." You say after checking everywhere by the front door.
"Idk what to say, baby... we have to leave soon. Just throw on a different pair and I'll buy you some new ones later."
He was a liar... and he was damn good at it... until he wasn't.
:::
It was 2am. This insanity started hours ago, but Miguel's stamina wouldn't let down. Your soft moans could fuel him till sun rise, and he would love to do this forever. But unlike him, you have limits. Limits to your ability to stay strong, or at least keep yourself up right. But he doesn't really care. Your begs for a break won't succeed with a constantly starving man like him.
"One more round, please baby... please. I need you." His desperate begs caress your tear stained cheeks as he whispers them softly, leaning over you and filling you with sloppy thrust.
"Miguel- please.. It's too much.." You whine as you try to pull away, gripping desperately onto the sheets.
"Last one.... I promise..." he lies.
He said the same thing the last 4 rounds. If he could have it his way he'd continue. But he knew you couldn't keep going for much longer, so he used this opportunity to tell you what he couldn't bring himself to say otherwise.
"I lied..." he confesses. Watching your tits bounce with every rough trust, keeping himself busy while you tried to form a reply. It took you a while, but you managed to let out a soft hum, waiting for him to explain himself further.
"I took them. Your heels.. I fucking hate those things.." he thrust get faster as he says it. Hoping to make your brain foggy enough to not remember his confessions in the morning.
"I like your height, so why do you wear those weird things?" His heart felt lighter as he told you.
"I like that your height forces you to get on your tippy toes every time you want a kiss from me.. and even then, I have to bend over to reach you.... I like that you rely on me to reach those high shelves. Every time you ask me, you grow as red as a rose...."
You can feel his movements speed up. You can barely hear him... your mind fuzzy from pleasure. Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin felt like white noise at this point. The dim shadow of his frame covering you completely.
"You're so small under me.. your body falls any way I bend it..." At his point, he was just speaking the first thing to cross his mind.
You didn't hear him, and he knew it. Seconds later, you feel his weight shift, the mattress by your head sinking under his heavy hand as he leaned in and whispered.
"Please don't take that away from me."
His words were demanding. He felt exactly what he said. Even though your eyes were shut tight, you knew his eyes were locked on you. His breath heavy, as if he just confessed a dirty secret. He kinda did...
"Promise me.... Promise me you won't wear them and I'll help you cum."
As tired as you were. You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. So you give in.
"F-fine... I promise."
"You promise what?" He smirked hearing your whiney voice.
"I promise I won't wear the heels!!"
The pleasure he got from you saying that was immense. He shifted his weight once more as he changed your position like a marionette doll. Spreading your legs apart. His hands wrapped around your thighs, and his claws dug into your skin. The stinging pain of it was a wake-up call, causing you to gasp for air.
This position caused him to go deeper. The sticky mess from your previous rounds was being pushed out of your aching hole. The sound of his hips hitting your ass grew louder with every precise thrust. They got louder and louder until they stopped. Your thighs had clenched closed as you hit that high you were chasing. And you took him with you. Tightening around his pulsing cock in a way that made him fill you to the brim once more.
He watched your body shake. Your hips jerking forward. He would usually take that as his sign to keep going, but your fucked out face was telling him you couldn't take another thrust.
"You did great my love..... my little angel~" He cooed gentle praises as he rubbed your claw marked thighs.
"I'll buy you the cutest flats."
:::
A thing he didn't know.. is that you lied, too. His secret cupboard was emptied, and your heal collection was restored... and yes.. he pouted in silence.
The end
5K notes · View notes
danineedshelp · 4 months
Text
omg help both of them are adorable
EDIT(3/10/24)
Oh and by the way apparently you get attacked for forgetting the credits which I forgot cause I didn't think about it plus I found this on YouTube and forgot to check out the description but since this one person wanted tuh call me a cuss word (Here)
Credits: Tis_Not_Love
Oh and if you don't have Twitter account go on YouTube and search up (Wings Husk and Alastor by Kressent Rhodes)
Im actually being kind right now /I'm sorry if you feel some type of way because I didn't add credits to this/ but saying JA to some one probably way younger than you is very rude(yes I know what you meant)
I'm not gonna tag the person you can check this entire post to find where this happened....it just kinda makes me sad that they were being kind for a few and then out of no where they add that.
______________________________________________________________
END OF EDIT
1K notes · View notes
azrielbrainrot · 3 months
Text
I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury
Word Count: 6670
Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!
Part 1 ○ Part 3
Tumblr media
Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.
Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.
His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.
In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.
Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.
He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.
You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.
As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.
He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.
Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.
He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.
He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.
His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.
His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.
“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.
“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.
He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.
Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.
Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.
Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.
He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.
“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.
He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.
He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.
“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.
“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.
“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.
“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”
“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.
Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.
“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”
“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.
“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.
“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.
He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.
“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?
Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.
Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.
“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.
“I will not leave her.”
“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.
Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.
He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.
He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.
Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.
“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.
“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”
He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.
He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.
“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.
When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.
Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.
Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.
That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.
“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.
“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”
“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.
“Why would she hurt you then?”
“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.
“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.
“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”
“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?
“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.
“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”
“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”
Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.
⋆。°✩°。⋆
You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.
You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.
The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.
You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.
Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.
Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.
You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.
As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.
You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.
As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.
You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.
You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.
The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.
When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.
“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.
“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.
“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.
Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.
The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.
As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.
If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.
Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.
Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.
You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.
When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.
Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.
You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.
A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?
“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.
Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.
You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?
Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.
“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.
He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.
You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.
“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.
Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.
“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.
“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.
You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.
The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.
“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”
taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @less-chaotic-brain @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx
(for some reason I couldn't tag some of you. check your settings because you might have tags disabled)
1K notes · View notes