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sungbeam · 2 months

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nonidol!jeong yunho x f!reader

yunho might have been the superstar out of the two of you, but you have always been the center of his universe. (you — it's always been you.)

▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, childhood friends 2 lovers, pining, popstar/singer au, swearing, fluff, humor, angst, hurt/comfort, kissing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety/nervousness, they physically cannot be apart for too long sorry they've got Attachment Issues low-key..., one kiss (is all it takes—)

▷ word count. 16.3k (guys,, this was supposed to be only like 6-8k i swear 😭)

▷ associated tunes. keep smiling (demxntia), gone too long (lullaboy), tear in my heart (twenty-one pilots)

a/n: hope u guys like this :'))) i had one of the scenes from here stuck in my brain for awhile and so i had to build the rest of the fic around it, and it turned into this monster, so uhm yes... also much love to @jaehunnyy tysm for reading thru it for me 💖

THE DAY YUNHO'S ALBUM hit the Billboard Hot 100, you knew that you were going to need a lot more hands on deck than just you, your roommate, and Jeong Yunho himself.

“There's not enough albums, not enough time in the day, not enough of you!” You exclaimed with your fingers shoved into your hair as you took in the landscape of chaos before you on your living room floor. “Yunho, why couldn't you be ambidextrous?”

His eyes widened, body frozen where he was shoving a slice of beef jerky into his mouth. “Mwe? Pwhy are pyu yellinh ap mwe por?”

“I'm not yelling at you; I'm just wondering why you weren't born with eight arms instead of just two.” There were simply too many albums for him to sign before his agent came to pick them up in two hours, and there were also too few albums for the amount of demand. You always knew your best friend would make it big one day, but you also thought he would have had a whole team by that time.

Technically, you were his team—you, your roommate Trinity, and Mingi who was at his grandmother's for the long weekend. Mingi was five texts away from driving back down to help you guys four hours ago though. But his family needed him right now, and Yunho was firm in ensuring Mingi didn't have to come down and help. We got this, he'd said. It'll be easy, he also said.

Sure. Easy.

“We can't just forge his signature?” Trinity joked in a sleep-deprived daze as she leaned back against the couch cushions. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn. “I'm kidding. Let's not ruin his career.”

Yunho swallowed his bite. “That would be nice.” He cleaned his fingers on the Wet Wipe he had handy by his thigh, then picked up his black Sharpie, spinning the writing utensil between his fingers. “Now where were we? Album number fifty-six—?”

This had taken place just four months after Yunho released his second album, Aurora. It had been nearly a year and a half since Yunho debuted himself onto the music scene, and it was about time people finally began to recognize your best friend for all that he was—multi-talented, charismatic, handsome (on some occasions; you wouldn’t let him catch you slipping up there, though).

Within the next year and a half, Yunho skyrocketed into further altitudes of fame.

There were plenty of changes that occurred, many evolutions to Yunho's team and additions to his discography, but you were always a part of it. Even with your own career dealings, you would drop anything to be there for him, and him for you. Between the morning show interviews and late night recording sessions, there were also the research presentations and study session pick-me-ups.

“Are you sure you don't wanna come with?” You asked from where you were stationed in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on the final touches for your look this evening.

You could hear Trinity's fingers clacking away at her keyboard at the speed of light through her open bedroom door. “I'd love to, but I unfortunately did screw myself over by procrastinating on this paper. Have fun though, and tell Yunho congrats for me.”

Tonight was the album release party for Yunho's third full studio album entitled Youth. It was something he had been working on for years now, only recently having become satisfied with the tracks he chose and produced for it. Due to his sudden rise in fame, the release party was said to be hosting a myriad of big name celebrities and figures in the music industry. And of course, you. You were no one special, in hindsight, but Yunho couldn't begin to imagine celebrating a milestone without you by his side.

By eight o'clock, you were ready to head out.

You bid Trinity goodbye as you hustled out the front door of your apartment and down to the street below. Yunho and Mingi and everyone else would already be at the party; you would arrive on your own via Uber. You wished you could've been with him to get ready like all the other times, but your schedule had been unfortunate as of late. You were lucky enough to have gotten off of work this early.

As you sat in the backseat of your ride, you anxiously fidgeted with your phone in your lap.

(You were, without a doubt, excited to arrive at the party. Due to yours and Yunho's ever-busy and ever-conflicting schedules nowadays—yours because of work and PhD candidacy stuff, Yunho's because of rehearsals for his upcoming world tour—it had been awhile since you were able to hang out in person. You missed your gentle giant of a best friend.)

A loud vibration from it made your heart leap into your throat, and your face lit up in the dark with the incoming notification.

rockstar 🤟: pls tell me you've left the house

You snorted and typed out a swift reply. If I told you I was still in my pajamas…

rockstar 🤟: then i would call u a liar cuz u don't go to work in pjs, weirdo rockstar 🤟: just getting antsy tbh rockstar 🤟: need my star here w me :’)))

You couldn't help the touched pout that came to your face. I'm almost there, don't worry. And who are you calling a star when that's you? He always got a little sappy when he was nervous.

rockstar 🤟: im literally not having fun here without u hurry up :// your phone: isn't this UR album release party 😭 yun, why aren't u having fun? rockstar 🤟: just hurry up your phone: aish okok 🤧 eta 8min mr. impatient

You knew it was the jitters making him say things like that. Once you got there, you hoped you could help reassure him that he could stop worrying for just a second to enjoy himself. Even if Yunho worried about the album and what people thought, you were just as nervous. You hadn't even heard the entire thing—he’d been cheeky and didn't tell you he added a song to it last minute, but you'd listened to everything else.

You just hoped that people would continue to celebrate him and give him the love he deserved.

When your Uber driver pulled into the drop off loop at the front of the venue, you thanked him on your way out and threw the strap of your small purse over your shoulder. Already, however, as you were met with the residuals of flashing camera lenses and frantic paparazzi calls just a little ways down the driveway, the anxiety slowly began to settle in the pit of your stomach.

You could see the celebrities going up the entrance with people asking them to pose for their cameras, to say a word into their recorders.

Immediately, you turned on your heel and began slipping your way to a side entrance. The last thing you wanted was for dozens upon dozens of people to be staring at you, wondering who you were and why you were important. There were definitely people who knew you—you were plastered all over Yunho's social media because that was just what best friends did. But compared to everyone else walking up that driveway? Not a chance. You were nobody, and that was ay-okay to you.

Just as you thanked one of the employees coming out the side door for letting you in, you felt your phone buzz in your hand again, this time with an incoming call.

You picked it up and squeezed it between your ear and shoulder. “You're gonna need to speak up—the kitchen is super loud.”

“You're here finally!” Yunho said to you through the phone. “I was starting to get worried.”

You chuckled as you ducked out of the kitchen and into the main lobby to get to the elevators. The party was taking place somewhere on the seventh floor… if you could get there without getting lost. “Hey Yun, do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Calm down, man.”

The elevator sang its arrival and you stepped inside to the sound of Yunho sucking in a deep breath, then exhaling slowly. “I am calm… wait, are you in the lobby? Let me come down and get y—”

“I just got in the elevator, so don't worry—and I really don't think you should be leaving your own party, rockstar,” you teased. “Man, Mingi and Hwa really pulled out all the stops for this place,” you marveled quietly as you gave the elevator carriage a thorough look. It was made of marble and mirrors, every surface polished and crisp, like that of a tailored suit if tailored suits were made of crystals.

“Yeah, it's really great,” he agreed. “Remember the release party we threw for Crescent?”

A fond laugh tumbled out of your lips as you stepped out of the elevator and onto the seventh floor. Your mind filled with memories of his debut album's release party hosted in yours and Trinity's living room with three extra large Domino's pizzas, root beer floats, and a cheap disco ball. It had been a party for four that night—you, Yunho, Mingi, and Trinity—but your friends didn't need the fancy shit to have fun. “Definitely leagues away from this.”

There was a bouncer at the far end of the hallway, and you were certain now that you were in the right place.

“I kind of miss it,” Yunho murmured. You heard the sound on his end shift, simultaneous to watching the doors in front of you crack open and see Yunho's head pop out into the empty hallway.

“I kind of miss it, too,” you said into the phone, your eyes locked on his and a smile blooming over your features at the sight of your best friend, in the flesh.

There was a tender gleam in his eyes as he took you in and said something in a low tone to the bouncer. He stepped out into the hallway, letting the doors behind him shut fully.

“Slowpoke,” was his greeting to you as he scooped you into his embrace. The smell of his cologne was something familiar and delicious, and permeated your senses.

“Worrywart,” you quipped back, wrapping your arms around him to reciprocate.

When you both pulled back, he kept you at arm's length so he could take a better look at you. “I can't believe you're calling me the worrywart! I do recall that one night when Aurora hit the Top 100—”

You silenced him with a look and a playful punch to his shoulder. You pressed your lips together to suppress a smile as he tilted his head back in a jovial laugh. “Quiet, you. For once, I can't believe you're more nervous than I am.”

He gave a sheepish grin, fussing with the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt, adjusting the chain he wore on his collarbones so the clasp sat right at the hollow of his throat.

You softened. Oh, he was really nervous.

“This album's just big for me; you know that,” he said, almost like he was trying to brush it off.

“I do.” The two of you began slowly making your way back towards the party doors. “Though, I'm excited to hear this mystery song that you snuck on there. I'm sure everyone will fall in love with the album, just like I did.”

He peered over at you then, and you couldn't understand why you were unable to read his expression then. It was… different. “Really?”

You blinked. “Of course,” you replied automatically. “I mean,” you added, “it's you, Yun. What's not to love?”

Yunho seemed speechless for a second, but moments later, he was breaking into a soft-cornered smile. “You always know what to say, Yn. Come on, there are some people who are dying to meet you.”

“Dying to meet me?” You laughed as the bouncer let the two of you into the party.

The party room was a rented out lounge space with wraparound windows that looked out at the skyline in the valley below. The main lights were kept low and warm, illuminating strategic places throughout the space to highlight the prohibition-like interior design. It was something out of a 1920s speakeasy with its velvet couches and dark mahogany wood finishes.

Yunho took you over toward the side of the room to get food first. There was a variety of snacks and small bites on the buffet table, and there was a bar counter shoved into the far corner where a bartender served drinks.

“I've pretty much socialized with everyone in this room already,” Yunho murmured to you as he shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “Meaning I can bug you for the rest of the night.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “There has to be, like, fifty people here. We still have the whole party left.”

“Yeah, but I have more fun with you anyway,” he said with a shrug. He reached for one of the little serving cups that held a little roll of rice armed with a slice of wagyu beef on top, all wrapped together with a strip of nori. “Now these—these are fucking amazing, dude. You have to try one.”

You snorted, but grabbed one of the little cups. “How many of these have you eaten already, Yun?”

He tapped his cup against yours like he was clinking glasses together. He chuckled, averting his gaze. “We don't have to talk about that…” His eyes caught onto someone nearby, and he perked up, shoving the entire bite into his mouth so he had a free hand to flag down whoever it was. “Mmh!”

You nearly choked on your own bite as you watched your best friend, who's cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk's, flap his arm around in the air to get this person's attention because his mouth was currently occupied.

You turned your head to see who he was waving over, and nearly choked again, having to cup your hand over your mouth to prevent rice from falling out. Your eyes widened an alarming amount. “Mmno—!” You mumbled through your bite.

“What? I can't hear you,” he snickered. “Hongjoong hyung! There's someone I want you to meet.”

You made a crazed gesture—no, no, I'm not ready! How dare you ambush me with social interac—you swallowed the food in your mouth as Hongjoong made his way over. You had never met the famed Kim Hongjoong—legendary producer, prodigy musician, favorite model to ever strut down the Paris Fashion Week Runway. He dropped off the grid for a brief three-month hiatus until he suddenly reappeared, but in your best friend's Instagram story. At some point, Yunho had met Hongjoong and won his favor. Then again, it was easy for Yunho to win over anyone's favor.

No one really knew why Hongjoong disappeared like he had, but some speculate it had something to do with his new relationship status: single.

You were always starstruck seeing Hongjoong on Yunho and Mingi's social media, as well as Hongjoong's own platforms. Tonight was no exception.

Hongjoong's hair of the season was a simple light brown that complimented his skin tone and the warmth in his smile. You were used to seeing him in more extravagant garb, but tonight, he chose something very simple, but chic like Yunho.

Yunho and Hongjoong clasped hands in greeting. “What's up, man?” The latter chirped, eyes flickering over to you as you attempted to behave normally.

Yunho gestured toward you, his eyes twinkling as he swept his arm around your shoulders to bring you forward. “This is Yn. Yn, this is Hongjoong. He's the one who produced the album—”

“Now, don't downplay your own efforts, Yunho,” Hongjoong cut in with a knowing look. “You produced so much of it on your own; I fine-tuned and made a couple tracks, but the rest was all you, man.”

“I always tell him he's far too humble,” you agreed.

Hongjoong sent you a smile, extending his hand out. “Great minds think alike, Yn. It's very nice to meet the person this guy doesn't ever stop talking about.”

You laughed good-naturedly and saw Yunho's flushed sheepishness out of the corner of your eye. You shook Hongjoong's hand with a firm, confident grip. “Nice to meet you, too. You're—you’re incredible, by the way. I remember when Yunho posted a photo with you, and I literally screamed his ear off over the phone.”

Yunho winced and held a hand up to his ear, as if remembering the physical sensation of that phone call. “Yup, definitely damaged my eardrum that day.”

“Well, thank you; I'm flattered,” Hongjoong replied pleasantly. “So I'm assuming you've probably heard as much of the album as I have then?”

“I'm sure you've heard the whole thing,” you said. “Yunho has withheld one of the tracks from me, but I've listened to all the rest.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Which track did—oh.” As he and Yunho made eye contact, you watched as a silent understanding passed between them, and Hongjoong's mouth tugged upward in a teasing smile. “That song.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

Hongjoong flourished his hand as if to wave away the thought. “He just wanted it to be perfect, so we were working on it up to the last second. Nothing terribly concerning.”

Ah. You relaxed, but the curiosity still lingered in your mind's eye. “I'm sure it's great, nonetheless.”

“Oh yeah, you're gonna love—”

“Oh-kay! That's enough about the song,” Yunho chuckled nervously as he grabbed your shoulders and began steering you away from a clearly amused Hongjoong. “Let's go say hi to Mingi, hm?”

You threw him a look from over your shoulder, but went along with him toward wherever he'd seen Mingi wandering around. “What has gotten into you tonight?” You teased, though, you also hoped to know why he was so jittery. He wasn't even this nervous about dropping his debut album.

Yunho showed you a bright smile, the same kind of golden-retriever expression that the media knew him well for. It would have been enough if you didn't know him. “Again, it's an important album to me. And the song I added last minute is on the deluxe version, so I wasn't really confident in putting it on the original release.”

“Ah,” you murmured. You reached up to pat the hand that rested on your left shoulder reassuringly. “I'm sure it really is a great song, Yun, and I'm not just saying that. You can make an awful omelet, but you can't make an awful song.”

Your best friend bursted into laughter at the latter comment, and your heart soared to see the genuine smile on his face now. That was your Yunho shining through. “You're right—if I can't scramble eggs, at least I can write a song.”

Over the next hour and a half, Yunho took you on a tour around the room, jumping from friend to friend to introduce you to more of his world. For the most part, however, it felt like an excuse for you to bond with all his friends in teasing him about something or other. But he seemed content enough to see you getting along well with the other people close to him.

He had met plenty of your friends at your work, so it was only fair that you got the same opportunity.

At some point while you were with Wooyoung and San discussing all of the rehearsals for Yunho's upcoming world tour, Hongjoong summoned everyone's attention to announce that it was time to listen to the album. It would be a rather casual affair with the Youth album playing in the background of the party, but you were certain people would minimize their conversations to listen in.

You craned your neck to peer around the crowd to see where Yunho had gone off to. “Wait, guys, did you see where Yunho went?”

Wooyoung and San joined your search, but quickly hustled you into a nearby booth to sit and enjoy the album with your drinks. “He'll find us,” Wooyoung assured you as the three of you slipped into the leather seats. “He wouldn't miss this.”

“He'll at least be here by the last song,” San said offhandedly, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

Your lips parted, your face morphing into feigned offense. “Wait. Did he let you guys listen to the deluxe edition song, too?”

“Maybe,” Wooyoung giggled.

San cooed at your pout. “Awwh, don't take it to heart, Yn-ie. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”

You raised your drink to your lips, sighing before taking a sip. “Everybody talks about this damn song as if he wrote it for me.”

Unbeknownst to you, the two others at the table exchanged pointed looks between one another when you were looking away. It was a wonder how Yunho was able to keep this all a secret from you. Though, even San and Wooyoung knew how busy you could get nowadays, so perhaps it really was just that easy. Plus, they had all at one point or another been privy to Yunho’s feelings—

“Speak of the Devil,” you perked up at the sight of your best friend emerging from the crowd with the others—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Jongho (vocal coach and album feature), and Yeosang (PR management)—in tow behind him. “We were wondering where you had gone off to.”

Yunho grinned as the lot of them squished into the circular seating arrangement with you, San, and Wooyoung. “Sorry, had to go round everyone up. The album should be queued up and ready to go.” He chose to sit on the end of the booth to your right while everyone else filled it up from the other side.

You offered him a sip of your drink, and he gladly took the glass from you. “So San and Woo were just telling me about how their tour prep is coming. You guys are leaving—what was it—two weeks from now?”

He hummed, smacking his lips as he set the glass back down on the table. “Yeah, it should be just about two weeks,” he said. His arm came up to rest against the back of the booth seat behind you. “You know, you can still come to the first stop with us…” This was said with a very pointed look at you from Yunho, followed by similar expressions from everyone else around the table.

“And you know that day’s when my supervisor holds quarterly meetings that are mandatory,” you shot back. As much as you hated the timing, the day that Yunho and the team planned to fly to their first stop on his world tour, you were required to be present for a very important meeting at work.

The Youth World Tour was something Yunho had been looking forward to and preparing for a long time. Besides working on the Youth album itself, his working hours extended over the past year or so to get ready for this major milestone. You would definitely be able to meet up with them at one of the tour stops, you just weren’t sure which one yet.

Things at your workplace were a little rocky as of late due to shifting management, but you would play it by ear. For your best friend, of course you would make it work somehow.

Your ears pricked up at the sound of strings strumming overhead and your heart leapt out of your ribcage for a moment. “Oh my god, I love this song.”

“You and me both, Yn,” Hongjoong chuckled across the table from you, reaching over so you could bump fists with him, “you’ve got good taste.”

“You’re only saying that because you wrote this one specifically,” Yunho sputtered out a laugh while rolling his eyes.

“It’s a good message,” you said, picking up your drink to take a generous gulp of it. There was a little left at the bottom of the martini glass and you swirled the liquid around before handing it over to Yunho to finish. “I think this one will definitely make it onto my work playlist.”

Yunho draped the back of his hand over his forehead, setting the now empty glass on the table. “Wow, relegated to the work playlist. Is that all I am to you?”

“You are a mood maker,” you pointed out with a teasing smile.

“Bro, you're complaining as if Yn doesn't put her work playlist on for everything she does.” Mingi arched his brows over the rims of his sunglasses. (Why was he wearing sunglasses indoors and at night? You didn't know; he said something about looking cool.)

Wooyoung chuckled. “What? So let's say you're trying to sleep—”

“Yah, I have a different playlist for that! I'm not completely unreasonable.”

“Completely,” Yunho and Mingi said at the same time, then looked at each other with wide, excited eyes. They bursted out laughing at once, too, leaving you to deadpan at the two clowns to your eleven o'clock and three o'clock.

You sighed. “I hate you guys.”

That only made them laugh louder, spurring on the others to crack smiles and for you to do the same.

Yunho calmed slightly, his cheeks hurting from smiling. “Aw, you walked right into that one, Yn.”

“So you're saying you are, in some capacity, unreasonable—oh my god, don't hurt me!” Mingi shrieked as he shoved Yeosang's body in front of him like a human shield as you lurched forward and threatened to grab him.

Yeosang sent Mingi a dirty look as he wrestled out of his neighbor's hold. “Dude.”

“Jongho, protect me.”

The vocal coach popped the olive from his martini into his mouth. “If you can't handle the heat, hyung, stay out of the kitchen.”

You nodded, raising your pointer finger up. “Exactly.”

For the next hour, you and your friends shared good company and conversation, while also commenting on, praising, and enjoying the tunes from Yunho's Youth album. There were a good thirteen songs featured on the album, and while most of them were inspired by real life, you remembered the days and nights when Yunho would break out the white board under his bed to draw out a concept map of the storyline he'd created in his head for some songs. It was like a miniature Easter egg hunt for fans to piece together from album to album.

When the clock hit nearly midnight, you recognized the song that marked the end of the conventional album—track number thirteen, 22. It was a song that reflected and lamented on his early stages of adulthood, all the goods and bads, all the hopes and dreams he had left. It was something that tied the regular album with a satisfying bow, but you were also giddy to hear the secret fourteenth deluxe track.

But as his ethereal voice from 22 faded out, the same guitar chords from the first song of the album began to play.

Everyone at the table paused in confusion.

“Uhh, I thought you were revealing the hidden track tonight, Yunho?” Seonghwa asked from across the table.

Yunho tilted his body out of the booth to peer into the sound booth at the very back of the lounge, a furrow in his brow. “I thought I was, too,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Yunho disappeared past the door to the sound booth. You frowned as Hongjoong excused himself to catch up with him, mumbling something about helping with any technical difficulties.

In retrospect, it wouldn't be the biggest deal if you didn't get to hear the song tonight. You would simply listen to it when the deluxe album dropped in about a week, but you wouldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. Everyone else at this table had already listened to it—why had Yunho not shared it with you yet? Did he think you would judge him or not like it? You didn't think you were ever so harsh a critic, but that would explain why he was so nervous all night.

Regardless, you remained positive.

When Yunho and Hongjoong returned to the table, the rest of you all looked on to them expectantly.

“Something wacky is going on with the system right now and won't play the file for the hidden track,” Hongjoong huffed. He passed Yunho a sidelong glance, and you saw how Yunho avoided his friend's eyes like the plague. “Sorry to disappoint, Yn.”

Everyone's attention whipped toward you, and you straightened like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, uhm, it's no biggie,” you said. You glanced over at Yunho who, if anything, seemed guilty. Or maybe it was just something apologetic. “Really—I can wait for it to drop officially.”

You didn't like how the air seemed to shift during this exchange, as if all the other boys were sitting on the edges of their seats, faces morphed into mixed ranges of confusion and disbelief.

You cleared your throat. “Anyone want more drinks?”

As the night waned and the party came to a close, you found yourself being helped into another Uber car to head home. After the supposed tech glitch, the remainder of the party passed by without a hitch. At the very end, Yunho popped open a theatrical bottle of champagne for all his guests to close out the celebration.

The backseat door closed just as Yunho ducked in with you, his hand waving out the window to San, Wooyoung, and Jongho passing by along the curb.

The alcohol had gradually made its way to your brain, and there was a light buzzing at the base of your skull that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. You yawned, leaning your head against Yunho's shoulder.

He chuckled, one of his hands coming up to gently pat your head. “Tired?”

“Mhm,” you hummed as your eyelids fluttered closed. “You didn't have to lie, y'know.”

You felt his shoulder tense under your cheek. If only you could feel the rapid beating in his chest, then he'd be as good as done.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied innocently, nimble fingers running over the chain links of his wristwatch.

Your eyes cracked open slowly. “Yunho.”

A beat passed, then he sighed. “Are you mad?” He asked quietly and his hand nearest to you found yours as he began to mindlessly inspect the chipped nail polish on your fingertips.

“No, silly. Why would I be mad?” When he didn't respond right away, you let out an exhale of your own. “I mean, I could tell you were nervous about me listening to the song all night. And if you weren't ready for me to listen to it yet, then I totally get that, and I'm okay with waiting. I just would rather you tell me that instead of make Hongjoong lie for you.”

He stopped playing with your fingers. “I'm sorry, for the record. Thank you for understanding.”

You hummed in reply.

The drive continued on with the accompaniment of a random radio station playing on low volume. You weren't going to fall asleep just yet with the alcohol still working its way through your system, but you kept your eyes closed nonetheless.

“I missed you, you know?” Were his first words to break the next silence.

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I missed you, too. I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever.”

He chuckled, the low sound rumbling through his chest and into your ear. “Texting can only take us so far. Isn't that crazy? We can't even survive a week without hanging out, but we're… we're about to be separated for so much longer timewise and distance-wise.”

You grumbled. “Don't remind me—wait. Has it really only been a week?” You peeked one eye open, a frown coming to your lips. “No way.”

Yunho smiled, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, stargirl. It's been only a week.”

“In-fucking-sane.”

“You're telling me.”

“How are we going to survive?” You pondered aloud, genuinely. If you couldn't fly out to see him within the first handful of tour stops, you and Yunho at the soonest wouldn't be able to see each other for three weeks. And if you couldn't escape your work duties and your PhD responsibilities, then it would be longer than that. “You're gonna have a closer relationship with your Valorant account than me.”

Yunho snorted. “I already have a closer relationship with my Valorant account than you.”

“Shucks.” You breathed out. “Guess I'll just text Hongjoong then. You know what he told me tonight when we were exchanging numbers? All eight of you nerds have a group chat and he gets ignored like a mom in a family chatroom.”

Your comment made a laugh tumble out of Yunho's mouth. “Did he make that analogy?”

“No, Seonghwa did when he overheard.”

A wheeze. “That tracks.” Yunho licked his lips as he turned his head slightly to glance down at you leaning on his shoulder. With his free hand, he warmed his palm over your head like he could keep you here forever. “So what's this about texting Joong?”

You shifted your position to get more comfortable and clung to his arm to press yourself closer. There was still a little ways to go before you reached your apartment. “I told him offhandedly that I wanna pick up a new hobby… something about crocheting or something, and apparently that guy is like… amazing at everything, so he's gonna help me out.”

“Ah.” The sound was quiet. “I'm glad you guys got along.”

You smiled to yourself. “Me too. He's really cool.”

“Not cooler than me though, right?”

You blindly reached over to pat his chest in warm reassurance. “Don't worry, big guy. I guess you're still the coolest guy I know.”

He clicked his tongue at you with a weak chiding, “Yah. You only guess? Don't tell Mingi that.”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”

The Uber eventually pulled up along the curb outside your apartment complex. You lifted your head up from Yunho's shoulder and woke yourself up with a good stretch of your limbs.

He helped you out of the car, handing you your purse when you finally got your bearings. “Are you sure I can't walk you up? You look like your knees are about to buckle,” he chuckled.

You shook your head. The cool evening air was helping your brain to sober up. “No, no. Don't worry about it—I’m not as drunk as that one year.”

“Dear heart, how could I forget,” he teased. “Mingi still has the recording of when you begged to be bridal carried.”

Your face warmed at his mention of that memory and you wrinkled your nose at him. “I was gonna say ‘I love you’ along with goodnight, but I suppose not.”

Yunho froze. “What?”

Maybe you really weren't sobering up, because you didn't catch his strange reaction. “Nevermind,” you said flippantly. “Love you, Yun. Good night. Get home safe!”

He seemed to unfreeze, his lungs filling with breath again. A soft smile melted onto his pretty lips as he looked on toward you with a warm fondness. “Love you, too. Good night, Yn.”

He remained where he was outside the car door as he watched you dig your keys out from your purse and open the complex door. When you had one foot inside, you stopped, and turned back to him with a big grin on your face. “Hey!”

“Hey?” He laughed.

“I'm proud of you.”

For the thousandth time tonight, you made him lose his breath, his hold on reality. He swallowed—he wanted to kiss you. “I love you. Get some rest, stargirl.”

You waved to him in reply and he waved back. Then you disappeared through the door and left him there, his heart full and beating fast, the longing in his chest weighing heavier than before.

When you and Yunho were thirteen, you spent the longest period of time away from each other for the rest of your lives. It measured to about one summer break long when Yunho flew to South Korea to spend the entire vacation there and you could do nothing but chat with him via good, old fashioned e-mail.

Now that the two of you were older, even a couple days dragged on like an eternity. And because of your clashing and stacked schedules, a couple days almost always bled into a week.

A week since the release of Youth marked the inevitable release of its deluxe edition and the ever mysterious fourteenth track.

“Yn, wait, can you just help me finish this set of primers?”

You were this close to escaping the lab before one of your colleagues caught you. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to turn back and help them out. One less thing to worry about later, right? You could still listen to the track once you got home.

Except you couldn't, at least not right away. You saw the email on the bus ride home:

Hello TAs! One of your peers has unfortunately been involved in a motorbike accident early this evening. We have been informed that they will recover to full health, but because they are hospitalized, we will need to redistribute responsibilities regarding grades and as to who will cover their TA sections…

You skimmed down the email's contents, knowing you wouldn't be the one filling in as an actual TA. Because you were a first year graduate student in your first quarter, you opted to start off with grading work for now. But even if you didn't have to deal with a whole section of undergraduates, you could feel the blood drain from your face.

“You've gotta be shitting me,” you said, then slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized you'd said that aloud. You mouthed a sheepish “sorry” to a parent and her child nearby, then ducked your head to look at the contents once more.

There was no way they wanted—no, needed—all of those graded by tonight.

This was cruel and unusual punishment, but you knew you were going to do it anyway.

By the time you finished grading, shoveled dinner into your mouth, and took a therapeutically scalding hot shower, it was sometime past two in the morning. Thank fuck it was Saturday.

It was less than twelve hours later that you settled into the passenger seat of Yunho's Lexus sedan with a pair of shades covering your dehydrated, puffy eyes from the world and whatever paparazzi was stalking his car. Yunho glanced over at you with barely concealed amusement. “Well, good morning, princess.”

“You can't see it but I'm glaring at you,” you grunted as you strapped yourself in with the seatbelt. “I can't believe you wake up before noon now.”

“Unfortunately,” he chuckled, peeling his car away from the curb. After an unsatisfactory six hours of sleep, Yunho had woken you up with the obnoxiously loud sound of your phone ringing. You managed to negotiate for him to pick you up in two hours rather than half an hour—and now here you were. You never truly considered yourself a breakfast person and you would have happily slept all the way to lunch, but even through the exhaustion, you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you.

He would be gone by the end of the week, after all.

You leaned your head back against the headrest. “I used to have to lure you out of bed with the smell of bacon. Remember when you ate that entire plate of raw-ass bacon and pancake batter that Mingi made?”

Yunho let out a loud laugh that made you smile. He glanced over at you. “Bro,” he sighed, shaking his head, “you know I'll eat anything. Oh my gosh, I will never forget the horrified look on your face when you came out of the bathroom and found out what happened.”

“You looked like a kicked puppy when I told you that you shouldn't have eaten raw bacon,” you snorted. You'd felt so awful that Yunho was such a good eater who didn't complain; he didn't have any negative side effects afterward, thankfully, but you swore to never let Mingi in the kitchen or to let Mingi feed Yunho ever again, so long as you lived.

There was a café a few minutes drive from your apartment complex that the two of you liked to go to. It was a little hole in the wall, located on the second floor above a pet shelter, and the entrance could only be accessed through the stairs in the next-door alleyway.

Yunho adjusted the beanie over his bangs and you shifted your sunglasses up to the top of your head as you entered the establishment. There were a few people seated in the area to the right, but something you liked about this place was its hidden gem quality. (And the drinks and food they served, of course.)

“Hi, welcome in!” The barista behind the counter called before ducking behind the espresso machine. “Give me two seconds, and I'll be right with you.”

“No worries, take your time,” Yunho chirped back as he scoured the menu, eyes squinting and tongue darting out to wet his lips.

You had a general idea of what you wanted already, and you let Yunho know what it was before slipping off into the restroom.

By the time you emerged from the back hallway where the washrooms were, Yunho had finished ordering and was standing by one of the open two-seater tables by the far window with the soft autumn sunlight painting over his features. For a second, you stood at the opening of the hallway, just admiring him. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep making you envision the sunlight dancing around him as he sat down in one of the seats.

Heat rushed up your neck as your eyes met across the café. Gazes locked, you stood frozen, but a smile bloomed on your best friend's face like the coming of spring. It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

And then he made a face, cocking his head to the side like a puppy with a question. 'Why are you just standing there?’ He seemed to ask.

You shook yourself out of whatever strange daze you'd slipped into, then walked over to join him.

“You okay?” He asked as you took the seat across from him, a teasing lilt to his voice, yet there was still concern in the curve of his mouth.

You waved said concern away. “Yeah. I think I'm still waking up or something.”

“Ah,” he nodded in understanding. He frowned. “What time did you go to sleep last night?”

“Like… some time past two.” On cue, you let out a large yawn, lifting your sleeve up to cover your mouth. “It's okay. I'll just sleep early tonight or something. One of the other TAs got into an accident, so we just had to do some make-up work and I just happened to get home late as it was.”

You could already see the guilt manifest on his face for waking you up, and you were swift to add, “I'll be fine with food and coffee, so 's alright. What about you? How'd you sleep last night?”

“I slept decently,” he replied, leaning forward to rest his cheek against his fist. “I didn't end up dropping the deluxe album, so it was a little more restful than—”

Your brain took a second to catch up. The… the deluxe album… oh. Your eyes went from half-mast to wide open. “You—you didn't release the deluxe? Sorry, I was so busy yesterday that I didn't check my socials.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But yeah, I told my manager that I still wasn't ready to release it to the public just yet. I don't know when I'll postpone it to, but it probably won't come out until while I'm on tour.”

Ah. There was that disappointment settling in the pit of your stomach again. This wasn't about you, but why did it seem like he was avoiding your eventual listening to this song? He was almost always sending you audio files without prompting, so what made this one different?

Nonetheless, it wasn't your song. You would respect Yunho's privacy if he wanted to keep this one to himself and his friends.

You unconsciously rubbed your arm. “Oh okay. Yeah, I mean—take your time, Yun. I'm glad you don't feel pressured to release it when you aren't ready.”

His expression softened to something tender that made your chest feel fuzzy. “You'll listen to it soon, I promise.”

The barista called out Yunho's order number, and your friend stood up to go retrieve it. You sighed as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt and peered over your shoulder as a pair of newcomers asked him for his autograph and a picture. You watched the pleasant smile spread on Yunho's face as he conversed with them as easy as breathing air, alongside the faint blush over his cheekbones.

No, you didn't know what had gotten into you this morning.

“No, no. You have to loop it through this piece here—yeah, there you go.”

You were so concentrated on following Hongjoong's directions that you didn't even register the sound of Yunho's front door opening and closing. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and scooted closer so he could direct your hands and the crochet hook himself.

“Uhm… hey?”

Both yours and Hongjoong's heads whipped up at the sound of Yunho's confusion. He stood at the entrance to the living room area where, scattered all around you and Hongjoong, were clothes, toiletries, and other essentials laid out for Yunho to throw into his bags.

Tonight marked the evening before Yunho and the team were to set off on the Youth World Tour. Tomorrow, they would fly out sometime in the afternoon, which meant that you would have time to send them off before heading to work and class. However, because you hadn't seen Yunho since this past Saturday when he dragged your ass out of bed for breakfast, you invited yourself over to his apartment to oversee his packing. Hongjoong just so happened to be swinging by Yunho's apartment and you asked if he was up for an impromptu crocheting lesson.

Hongjoong arrived some time while Yunho ran out to the Chinese place down the block to grab dinner, and the two of you had been hunched over the ball of yarn and hook ever since.

“Oh, you're back!” You exclaimed. In your distracted state, Hongjoong took the opportunity to take the crochet piece from you and subtly fix the mistakes you made.

Yunho's brows creased, eyes darting from you to Hongjoong as he slowly placed the takeout bags on the semi-cleared coffee table. “Yeah… Joong, when did you get here?”

You leaned forward to help clear off the rest of the coffee table and to also assist in unpacking all of the takeout containers. Yunho shucked the baseball cap he was wearing off to the side, carding a hand through his dark locks.

“Like… seven minutes ago,” he replied cheekily. His mouth curled into something mischievous as he locked eyes with Yunho. “I can leave, though, if you wanted to be alone—”

“Hyung—”

“I'm messing with you,” he snickered as he handed you the yarn and hook. “I only came by to drop off the emergency backup files hard drive and to give Yn-ie a sneak peek of her crocheting lessons to come.”

(Yunho's eyes narrowed a millimeter. Yn-ie?)

You set the unfinished crochet square down on the couch to walk Hongjoong to the door. “Are we still on for tomorrow, by the way?”

“What's tomorrow?” Yunho twisted around where he was seated on the floor to watch you and Hongjoong make your way to the front door.

“You,” said Hongjoong with raised eyebrows at your best friend, “are going on a plane with everyone else. Because I'm not leaving until the day after tomorrow, Yn and I are bonding over lunch after we see you all off.”

You and Hongjoong finished up finalizing plans in the doorway, followed by amiable farewells. Yunho called out a “good night” to his friend as Hongjoong slipped out the door, and left you and him to the apartment by yourselves.

You claimed the spot on the floor next to him and accepted the pair of wooden chopsticks he extended to you. “I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to invite him in. I probably should've asked,” you said sheepishly as you snapped the chopsticks apart.

“Oh, no, he's been over quite a few times, so it's all good,” he replied swiftly. “I just didn't expect you two to be so close.” He added a laugh at the end that sounded more nervous to him than it was supposed to.

“We've been texting back and forth, but I guess so. Nothing like the two of you,” you jested, lifting your eyebrows up and bumping your elbow against his.

Yunho grinned. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You guys spend all that time together in the studio—WHA—NO! Keep those hands to yourself!” You shrieked, rolling out of the way to dodge his hands that threatened to tickle you into submission. Yunho had thrown his head back in a carefree laugh, a beautiful expression in itself, that had you reciprocating.

When you were sure he wasn't going to attack you (affectionately), you scooted back over to your original spot next to him. He smiled to himself at the sidelong glance you casted him, and he went and grabbed one carton of rice for himself and the other for you.

“Thank you for dinner, by the way,” you told him as you opened up your carton, his somehow already opened and spilling over with food.

You once again caught him with his mouth full, and Yunho swallowed the bite of food he had before replying. “Yeah, man. Of course.”

“I swear that I will definitely get the next meal we have—”

“Yn.” He touched the back of his hand against your arm to draw your attention to him. “You literally were the one to make sure I made it out of college alive, like, I can never thank you enough for how much you did for me then and continue to do for me now.”

You swallowed, suddenly blown back by the way he looked at you right now. “I did it because I care about you, Yun. It's not something I expect to be repaid for.”

“I know,” he said with a nod, lips pulled into a tender smile that made your stomach do flips. This was the look no one else got to see from him. Sure, he could fill stadiums of people who would see his big, bright grin that shone brighter than the sun, but… but this one, this smile, was yours. “That goes the same toward this meal, okay?”

Yunho notched his finger under your chin and tilted your head up slightly to meet his eyes. “Don't worry about it.”

You set your carton of rice and chopsticks on the table, he copied your movements, and you wrapped each other in your mutual embraces. The startling realization that you wouldn't see him for longer than a week from tomorrow onward rushed toward you like the coming of a tide to shore. Before you knew it, the water was up to your knees, and you—what were you going to do without him here?

“I miss you already,” you whispered.

You felt him squeeze you tighter, nose pressed against the side of your neck. “I won't be gone too long.” A promise.

“Thank god Seonghwa and Wooyoung can cook.” At the sound of his snort from above your head, you squawked out in your defense, “Who else is gonna make you bacon and pancakes in the morning when you’re dead tired?”

“Hey! I can fry bacon, I’ll have you know!”

You pulled away from him so he could see the look of pure disbelief on your face. “Okay, rockstar. I believe you.”

He scrunched his nose up at you. “That’s not very convincing.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Yunho scoffed, reaching over to flick your nose. You let out a sound of indignation and rubbed your nose, a scowl on your face at Yunho’s very pleased expression. And even if you were currently conspiring on how to get back at him, you couldn’t help but resolve something right that second—you would do everything in your power to see his show in two weeks’ time—to see Yunho in two weeks’ time.

The thing about cheap plane tickets was that the cheaper you bought them, the less “amenities” that it came with. The one you’d purchased specifically for two weeks in the future did not allow you a refund. This meant that if something were to arise, you would be a good several hundred dollars poorer, and your plans to surprise Yunho at his show would fall completely through the floor.

Good thing you weren’t about to let that happen, right? …Right?

“You’re sick.” Those were your roommate Trinity’s first words to you as you stumbled out of your bedroom and found her perched on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. She fixed you with an unimpressed look as she stirred around her morning coffee.

“I’m not—” Your own response was cut off by one very untimely cough into your elbow. You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste at the back of your throat. Great. “—sick.”

“And I’m Oprah,” she deadpanned.

“You could be.” Did you really sound as much like a dying walrus as you thought you did? Holy shit.

She stood up from her stool, setting her coffee cup on the counter, then walked over to you to direct you back into your room. “I’m not permitting you exit from this apartment until you're better. Back to bed with you.”

“But—”

“No buts! If you wanna still be able to fly by the end of this week, then you have to get better, Yn.”

You really, unfortunately, could not argue with that. Nearly a week and a half had passed since Yunho started touring. Opening night had been a massive success, as you’d seen the broadcast and read the reviews on social media. In the concert photos and videos slowly being released online, there was no doubt in your mind that Yunho belonged onstage. He was radiant as a diamond in each depiction of him, and he sounded better and better each night.

Suffice to say, you were beyond proud and happy for him.

In order to make your surprise successful, you informed Yunho’s team of your plans so they could help you get into the concert once you arrived. Your part consisted mainly of finishing all of your work ahead of schedule so you weren’t swamped when you got back. It was nearing the end of the term, meaning there was lots to grade and study, but when you had a goal, you were determined.

The only downside was that, between the long days and nights of work, your body couldn’t fight against the swift rush of early winter air that swept through the city in the past week. Your working hours stretched out longer and longer until your body just… gave up. Or at least, it was giving up.

After calling in sick to your workplace, you crashed back into bed for what you hoped to be a restful nap. Maybe when you woke up, this would all just turn out to be a 24-hour fever.

(It was not a 24-hour fever.)

You didn't even know what time it was when you woke up groggy and your head pounding like there was an active construction site taking place in your skull. Your bedroom was dark, and the world outside your window was also dark. The sound of your phone ringing drilled into your cranium, and you groaned as you felt around your mess of blankets and sheets for wherever that damned thing was—

“Hello?” You croaked into the receiver when you finally grabbed ahold of your phone.

There was a pause on the other end, and you were about to ask who it was when they responded. “Oh my god. You're sick.”

Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of your best friend's voice and you shoved your face into the pillow. “I'm not sick.”

“Yn, sweetheart, you literally have the sexy sick voice.”

“You think I'm sexy?” You asked in a drowsy, unwell daze. “But anyways, I'm not—” You lifted your face into your elbow in time to practically hack out your lungs. You groaned. “Okay, maybe I am sick.”

Could things get any worse?

You could hear the frown in his voice. “You sound like my worst nightmare.”

“Am I sexy or your worst nightmare? You need to pick an adjective.” You whimpered as you struggled to pull yourself up into a sitting position.

“At least I know it did nothing to that attitude of yours,” he laughed. He sobered for a moment when he heard you groan as the blood rushed to your head. “Hey, do you have meds with you? I can order some and have them there in half an hour.”

You waved him off, even though he wouldn't be able to see. “No, it's okay. I should have taken an ibuprofen before I crashed. I'm sure we've got extra Nyquil around here somewhere…”

You attempted to stand up, a swear falling from your mouth as the vertigo hit you and sent you tumbling back down onto the edge of the bed.

“Yn, I'm sending you medicine—and dinner. That one bistro near your apartment is still open, right? I'll let Trinity know that deliveries are on the—Yn?”

You lifted your head and broke out of your return to unconsciousness. “Hm? Sorry… I did not hear anything you just said.” You rubbed your hand down your face and scooped your phone up to make your way out of your room. You somehow made it to the door, and you leaned against the doorjamb as you pushed out into the dark hallway. “You don't have to send anything, Yun. Trinity's studying for her law school finals, so I don't wanna bother her. Plus…”

You opened up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and bit back a sigh of disappointment. No cold medicine. There was pain medication, at least, so that should hopefully help you fall asleep again.

At your lack of words, Yunho asked, “No medicine?”

“No, I have some medicine,” you countered. “Just—not the right ones.” Before you could swallow any pills, you hacked out another lung into your elbow; you swore your coughs were sounding worse and worse.

“You know what? I'm flying home—”

You slammed the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. “Don't—what? Yunho, do not fly home. It's literally just a little—” You coughed, “—cold. You have another show in two days. If you show up on my doorstep, I'm not opening the door.”

From the silence on his end, you knew he wasn't in total agreement with you. Maybe the bottle slamming was a little much, but his statement had surprised you. It didn't make sense for him to drop everything for you when you were experiencing something so trivial as a cold.

Not unkindly, you said to him, “I appreciate the concern, but you have bigger things to worry about and care about.”

“You will always be the most important thing I care about.”

His admission was so sincere that your heart gave a violent palpitation in your chest. You struggled to swallow, and it wasn't just because your throat was sore. “And I feel the same way about you,” you murmured, “but I can take care of myself, okay? I'll be back to normal in no time.”

You heard a sigh from his end. “I know; you're right. I just… wish I was there with you right now.”

You could understand that—it was how you felt. But some things couldn't be helped, and Yunho needed to be where he was and you needed to be where you were. You could hold down the fort while he was gone taking over the world by storm.

You closed the bathroom door to give an extra barrier between your voice and where Trinity was studying in her room. After knocking back a couple painkillers, you seated yourself on the floor with your back against the bathtub and your knees pulled up to your chest. “You know what's kind of ironic?” You coughed into your elbow and wrestled down another one bubbling up in your throat. You shouldn't have been speaking so much, but you could deal with the repercussions later. “I think I freaked out when you said you were going to fly home, not just because that's insane, but also because I was going to surprise you by flying out to your show in a couple days.”

He sucked in a breath. “You were gonna come surprise me?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, swiping at your nose and tucking your chin to your knees. Then you had to go and screw it all up, and you couldn't even get your money back. You pretty much accepted that you weren't going to be better by the time the day rolled around, especially not for travel. “I'm sorry I couldn't come see you.”

“No, don't be sorry!” He cooed. “I'm—I’m really sorry you're sick and I'm sad you couldn't make it, but… but think of it this way, hm? As soon as you get better, I'll fly you out to whatever city I'm in and we can hang out and you can come to the concert. All you have to do is get better for me.”

You didn't know if your schedule would allow after this setback, but you were going to remain optimistic. With a small glimmer of hope peering through your chest, you replied, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the fond smile in his voice.

“By the way,” you began, and had to clear your throat from how congested it was getting. Maybe some hot tea would do you good. You clambered to your feet to get out of this bathroom and do just that. “Was there a reason you called originally or was it just to say hi?”

A beat of hesitation passed between your question and his answer. “Ah…” There was a wince in his voice, “I, uhm, called because I wanted to know if you'd seen something online, but obviously you haven't 'cause you were asleep, but…”

Seen something online? Your movements with your electric kettle paused. Had someone posted something about Yunho? “What is it, Yun?” Who's ass did you need to beat?

“Seonghwa hyung found out that someone leaked the hidden track online a few hours ago.”

You leaned your cheek against your palm, eyebrows knitting together. “Shit, dude. I'm so sorry,” you said with a frown. That meant some rando on the internet had hacked into someone's files and leaked the song.

A sharp exhale from Yunho's end. “Yeah, I dunno. We're working on getting it taken down right now, but in the event it can't be done soon enough, I think I'm just gonna release the deluxe version in a couple hours.”

It seemed by his response that it wasn't the hacking that was his primary concern. Leaked, unreleased songs happened to every major artist in the industry, and it had most definitely happened to Yunho before this. But this time… this time felt different. You knew how hesitant he was to release this, and having the track get released to the public on terms that weren't his? Well, that just wasn't fair.

“You don't,” you said softly, reaching for a mug in the top cabinet to plop your tea bag into, “have to release it officially right now. You can still wait until you're comfortable.”

You heard sounds of shuffling on his end, followed by the sound of a door opening. You thought you heard Yeosang's voice as he murmured something to Yunho. The exchange was swift, but it reminded you that your time with your best friend here was limited.

“Do you need to go?” You asked, trying to cover up your hope that he didn't have to with nonchalance.

He hummed. “It's okay, I have a few minutes left. They want me to 'okay’ a couple things out on set, but that can wait. Uhm… as for what you said about releasing it—I,” he sighed, “I think this was the push I needed to finally drop it, y'know? I think either way I was going to be scared for—for people to hear it—for you to hear it. But uhm… yeah. That's all I wanted to say. I think it'll probably be released whenever you wake up.”

You poured the hot water of your tea bag, setting the kettle down gently. Letting the steam rise up to help clear your congestion, you could finally think a little clearer now. “I'm sorry this didn't happen on your terms.”

“I appreciate that. I hope you like the song—I… I really hope you like the song.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I'm going to like the song, rockstar. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

He let out a small laugh and the sound of his happiness, however big or small, made your chest feel heavy. “I’ve missed you so much,” he rasped out. “So much.”

You pressed your forehead to your fist, willing the prickling feeling of tears at bay. “I wish I was there—I’ve wished I was there with you the moment you left. But I'm so, so proud of you. I know I've said this before, but you belong on that stage, Yunho. I'll be there… I'm always there in spirit.”

“You can't say that and expect me not to fly my ass home right now.”

You sputtered out a laugh, which was probably a bad idea, because it led to an utter disaster of a coughing fit. When you finally managed to get a reign on things, you picked up your mug of tea and took a couple ginger sips. It was still piping hot, but whatever scalding temperature it was at somehow soothed your throat and your head.

You set the cup down. “Again, I'll be there in no time, I promise.”

“You swear on your life?”

You sighed, but you pressed your lips into a smile. “I swear on my life.”

Yunho's departure from this call was imminent, and so you made further promises to get plenty of rest and to take care of yourself. You only did so when he promised to do the same for himself. Just after you both hung up, you received a text message from him: Stay up for five more minutes!! The delivery's almost there.

You huffed out a rough-sounding laugh, and bit your tongue around a smile. Of course he had still ordered you stuff. You shook your head to settle on one of the kitchen stools to nurse your tea and wait for the delivery to get here.

When the driver was safely out of bounds of your door, you poked your head out into the hallway to grab the paper bags seated on your doorstep. You had only expected medicine and maybe dinner, but not only were there cold medicines, orange juice, and hot soup from the bistro down the street, but there was a bouquet of flowers there, too.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you pulled everything into the safety of your apartment. Damn Jeong Yunho and his gestures. It didn't mean anything—they were just Get Well Soon flowers, but why did you kind of wish they were more than that?

The Youth album's fourteenth track entitled your space hit the charts at number two. By the time you woke up, still sick as hell, the track had been officially released for about eight hours. You rolled over in bed to guzzle down half a bottle of water and cold medicine, then grabbed your phone.

It seemed that social media blew up while you were asleep. The deluxe drop was trending under a couple different tags, and based on initial skims, you were happy to report that most had everything good to say about it.

Though, some of the commentary made you pause. He has to be seeing someone, said one user. Look at these lyrics. These could only be produced by a man in love.

You had to swipe out of the app at that point. Instead, you went over to yours, Yunho's, and Mingi's group chat together where Mingi and Yunho had waged a meme war while you were asleep after Mingi wished you a “Get Better Soon” message. You sent back your own meme in response and opened your music streaming app to find track fourteen.

The boys would probably all be asleep by now, so they wouldn't respond any time soon.

You found your space exactly where you thought it would be, at the very bottom of the deluxe album. You sat yourself up against your headboard, plugged your earbuds in, then hit play.

If only you knew how much it would rock your world.

Hongjoong was never wrong about his hunches. It had been about a week and a half since you came down with an awful cold and couldn't make it to your intended surprise show, and slightly less than that since the deluxe album dropped. Even before the tour started, life was a whirlwind, but now that the tour was only ramping up further from this point, it had been nothing short of a total rush.

Different cities every week, at least two nights a city—all of it took a toll on both the staff and artist involved. Hongjoong's hunch, however, regarded the artist in particular as he watched said artist keep his smile up to say goodnight to the remainder of the stadium workers who lingered for cleanup. Yesterday was their last show date in this city, and today, Yunho and his team had come by to help load everything up for transport to their next destination. Tomorrow, they would fly out and be in the next city to begin preparing for the next round.

But as Yunho began making his way toward the exit where Hongjoong was waiting for him, it was impossible to miss the immediate exhaustion that flooded his features. He carded a hand through his hair as he checked his phone, then pocketed it in the back pocket of his pants.

“Hey,” Yunho nodded to Hongjoong as he met him at the exit and they both walked out into the chilly evening together. There was already a car waiting at the curb to take them back to their hotel—there was still so much that needed to be done before they left for the airport tomorrow.

“Hey,” he said back. “Everything okay?”

Yunho glanced over at him. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine; just tired. I think it's a good thing I started packing before we came here earlier,” he mused. For him to pack early? A miracle.

Hongjoong bobbed his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get that, but that's not really—you know you can be honest with me, right? I know this has all been… a lot.” And Hongjoong would understand; he had been in the public eye for so long now, and all of that could be so incredibly draining. From catering to fans and journalists and sponsors, it could be difficult finding himself amongst all that mess.

Plus, Yunho had the added bit of being away from home for a very long time. From what Hongjoong understood, Yunho only used to tour relatively close to home, and when it was farther, it was during his school breaks. He also knew that you were an integral part of Yunho's sanity, and that even before he reached this level of fame, you were his rock, his anchor, his ground control.

Being away from you for so long was beginning to show. When Hongjoong brought it up offhandedly to Mingi, Mingi was swift to agree.

“I—” Yunho began as he slipped into the passenger seat and Hongjoong into the back of the car. He murmured a soft greeting to the driver before strapping himself in with a seatbelt. “—it definitely has been hard,” he admitted with a sigh. “I don't know, Joong. You know that rush you get while onstage, but it just comes crashing down a couple hours later? Like the adrenaline leaves you all at once and all you crave for is home?”

Hongjoong pursed his lips, watching Yunho lean the side of his head against the window as he watched the world pass by. “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly. “The moments between all the rush and excitement, you're no longer distracted from how much it all is.”

A nod. “Yeah.”

“You miss her?” It was less of a question and more so a statement. Hongjoong's hunches were never incorrect. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Yunho's quiet was answer enough.

Hongjoong played around with the back of his phone case. He knew you had listened to the song—he’d asked Yunho and you'd texted Hongjoong, too. Yunho reported that you gushed about the song and affirmed him in all his choices and lyricism as always, but he was certain that you didn't get it. But when you had run to Hongjoong questioning your own feelings and if Yunho had been scared to tell you if he was in love with someone, Hongjoong could confidently say that you did get it, just not one hundred percent.

There was still miscommunication in the message, but he knew that was only something that the two of you could sort out.

“Have you guys talked since last week?”

“Yeah, we have. She's been…” He pushed a breath out of his mouth, “... She's been working her ass off trying to make up for the amount of time she was sick. I don't even know how she isn't getting sick again. I mean—all the shit she has to weather through—I wish I could help.”

And he couldn't, not like how he wanted to, not from so far away. Maybe that was what was eating him up inside the most, besides the fact he believed his feelings to be unrequited.

The car pulled up to the back entrance of the hotel Yunho and his team were staying at for the time being. The two of them thanked the driver on their way out, and they were swiftly greeted by employees coming out of the back for their breaks.

When they reached the warmth of their hotel floor's hallway, Yunho said to Hongjoong, “I miss her so much.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his Youth World Tour hoodie, eyes lined in silver. “I worry about her so much, too. I'm sure she worries just as much about me and I know that she's more than capable about taking care of herself—’cause god, she was the one who kept me afloat all these years, and I—”

I love her.

He slapped his key card against the reader and shoved into his hotel room with Hongjoong trailing after with a sympathetic frown on his face.

“It just feels wrong sometimes when I can't be with her. Is that crazy?”

Hongjoong settled a warm hand on Yunho's shoulder as the latter sat down on the edge of his bed. “It's not crazy,” he said. He'd felt like that about a person, once upon a time. After everything Hongjoong had gone through with his last relationship, one might think he didn't believe in love, but he was still clawing for it. He wanted something that he could see manifesting between you and Yunho. He wanted to help you reach that.

He sighed and sat down next to him. “It's completely valid to feel this way, y'know? She's been a huge part of your life and your passions, and for you to see all this without her seems incomplete.”

Yunho nodded. “Yeah.”

“You can go home whenever you want, you realize that?” Hongjoong asked. “We have time built into each week to give you rest days, man. We can make that work.” It might be a little tiring for so much travel, but one trip back wouldn't hurt, especially when it could help his mental state more than simply powering through.

“I know,” he replied. “I don't… I just feel like I want her to see that I can do this, that she didn't put her trust and energy into someone who would fall so fast—”

“Do you seriously believe she would think about you that way?”

Yunho's expression shuddered, and he let out a shaky breath as he shook his head.

Hongjoong arched his brow. “Exactly. She would never fault you for needing a break. Being human is not a sign of weakness, Yunho. She's your best friend—I think she has more forgiveness and compassion for you than that.”

Yunho swallowed. Of course what Hongjoong said was right. You wouldn't look at him any different if he needed a break; it was just a thing about being kinder to himself. But sometimes it was hard to put that into perspective, and perhaps he just needed someone to do that for him.

With no good choice made without a decent night of sleep, Hongjoong bid Yunho goodnight.

As soon as Hongjoong slipped out of his friend's room, he sighed and mentally calculated what time it would be where you were. You should have been awake.

And awake, you definitely were.

You would be lying if you said you hadn't been listening to the song your space on repeat for the past week and a half. Even as you sat in one of the campus dining halls doing work and eating your crappy sandwich for lunch, your headphones were spilling with your best friend's gorgeous croons.

You questioned everything at the same time. You'd figured out two days after you first heard it that you were in love with your best friend.

The lyrics had resonated with you, and you had come to the startling conclusion that you felt the song's meaning toward Yunho.

All you could do since was freak the fuck out and tell Yunho that the song was incredible. You didn't know who the song was for or about, but you knew it was important to him because of how scared he was to release it. Had he been scared to tell you he was in love with someone? Why?

Sometimes you found yourself tearing apart the lyrics like a rabid trash panda.

I couldn't ever leave you behind They couldn't ever take me away Baby, if I could pick a heaven on Earth It would be anywhere in your space.

You broke away from your work and sandwich to the sound of a text notification. Suddenly remembering how loud your vibration ringer was, you silenced it, then opened up Hongjoong's message: I know you're probably moping and eating a shitty sandwich—what. You glanced down at said shitty sandwich that sat in its equally sad plastic container. How did he know…? —and he's not doing well either. He's miserable, dude.

Everything slowed for you, and it was no longer about your so-called epiphany. You felt your entire body and mood drop at the news. You'd seen social media posts commenting on Yunho's stage presence and brightness never fading, but there were always the one or two who noted something along the lines of him seeming too tired or that perhaps he didn't have enough stamina for this.

The latter comments made your blood pressure spike, but there was, unfortunately, some truth to it. You just didn't think it was this bad.

You pressed the backs of your knuckles against your eyes. You hadn't been doing the best, clearly, and you knew that it was largely because you missed him. Being away from someone you considered home for so long meant that you were bound to get homesick.

You didn't know what to do. There was so much work to be done, and you had just caught up. On top of that, you were short a few hundred dollars from the last time you tried to fly out.

Another message buzzed in from Hongjoong: I think you guys really need to talk.

The organ in your chest rattled around in its cage; it longed to be with its partner. You were starting to understand that now.

The song playing in your ear was slowly petering out, and all you could hear was his voice.

And I've kinda been wanting to ask if we can Skip the 'why’ and get to the 'our’ Because baby, I love your space But I love ours more.

Yunho had not flown home that week. Some emergencies had sprung up as soon as they landed in their new city, and all bets were off to be able to go home. All that he could do was buckle down and get comfortable. Even so, he knew how to make the best out of a situation.

As he stood at the very center of the main stage, he held a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright spotlights shining down on him now.

“Is that better?” Hongjoong's voice echoed throughout the near-empty stadium.

From one of the balconies, Jongho cupped his hands up around his mouth to scream at the top of his lungs, “LOOKS GOOD, HYUNG!”

“Jongho,” Yunho chuckled into his microphone, “did someone not get you a headset, bro?”

A beat passed, and then, “NO.”

Mildly amused laughter cropped up around the stadium in reaction to the youngest's troubles. It was little moments like these where Yunho could forget for one second just how tiring all of this amounted to become. His smile was genuine, and his tongue darted out to trace his teeth—

“Jeong Yunho, put your damn tongue away.”

Yunho's eyes went as wide as saucers, his expression morphing into something like childlike surprise as he immediately retracted his tongue into his mouth. But in the split second it took his brain to process the words that had been said, he also recognized the voice who'd said them. From the big screen, any one of the staff members or you could see the way his face stretched into the widest grin possible, his eyes lighting up like spotlights.

He lifted the mic in his hand up to his lips as he tilted his eyes up to the sound and lighting box far up in the stands. From where he was onstage, he could just make out the shape of you in the box next to Hongjoong—the sneaky bastard. “Ln Yn, get your ass down here right now,” he said, hardly able to contain the excitement in his voice.

You didn't need to be told twice.

You raced down the stadium steps from the box, your legs carrying you as fast as humanly possible without falling. Yunho leapt off the stage and left his microphone behind to meet you in the middle.

Somewhere between the pit and mezzanine, you flew into his arms and he caught you, spinning you around. The glee on both of your faces was enough to make everyone stop and appreciate the tangible love before them. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you pursed your lips to subdue them. You squeezed him as tight as you possibly could; his arms held you firmly around your waist, head tucked into the joint between your neck and shoulder.

“You're here,” he croaked with tears in his voice now. You heard him sniffle, and only held him tighter. He felt the added strength and let out a sob. “I missed you so much.”

Oh, for fuck's sake—you started bawling like a baby. “I—” you sucked in a breath, “—I heard—so I booked a flight—”

This only caused his body to tremble harder. “Oh god… Yn… I…”

You sniffled and brushed your hand over the back of his head in an attempt to get both of you to calm down. “Hey, don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't matter; you know I'd drop everything for you.” When his only response was to press his wet eyes against the heat of your neck, you blinked away your tears. “Plus, I missed you, too, rockstar.”

Yunho let out a watery laugh, gently setting you down onto solid ground. You both looked like a hot mess and a half: snot dripping out of your noses, eyes red and drowned in salty tears. The adrenaline rush from the surprise had trickled out of your system, but your heartbeat continued to rattle around in your chest with reckless abandon. His messy, damp hair; the wobbly shine in his dark brown irises; the way he smiled at you with that something on his face… he was everything to you.

“Glad to know the feeling's mutual,” he said, nudging you with his elbow, then pawing at his eyes to wipe the tears away.

“Good to see you, Yn!” San piped up from the stage with his microphone. He had picked up Yunho's microphone from where he'd abandoned it to come meet you.

You laughed, lifting a hand up in a wave. “Hey, San! Hi everyone!”

Chimes of greetings from all the other boys and staff members cropped up from all around the arena.

Yunho brushed a hand through his hair and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Did all you fuckers know about this?”

Mingi was perched on the ledge of the stage. His grin seemed to be the widest after watching your reunion. He tugged the microphone attached to his earpiece closer to his mouth. “Don't tell us you're not grateful now.”

“Nah, I'm just surprised Wooyoung was able to keep his mouth shut.”

Wooyoung didn't need a microphone to let you all know of his offense. You could hear his squawk of disapproval all the way from where you stood—crazy how acoustics worked.

Yunho heard your laugh from beside him, and he glanced over at you to catch the fond look on your face. He hadn't stopped smiling for the past five minutes, and it didn't matter how much his cheeks hurt. You were here; that was all that mattered.

“This place is—” you marveled as the two of you began walking down the stairs together toward the stage. The backs of your hands brushed against one another, breaths away from touching, from lacing, from being together. “—huge. It's so much more—” You felt your lip wobble again, “I don't even know why I'm getting emotional. It's all you dreamed of as a kid, wasn't it?”

The tears pricked at the edges of his eyes again, and the two of you looked back at each other with equally wet eyes and bright smiles. “Yeah,” he nodded, swiping at his eyes.

“You deserve it.”

“All thanks to you,” he said with a sniffle, hugging you to him again. You were solid and real beneath his fingertips—he was so happy you were here. This was where you belonged; none of this felt right without you.

When you finally reached the bottom of the pit, Yunho had to run back up to the stage, and you went through the aisles until you found your perfect seat. It wasn't long before Mingi bounded up the steps to come join you. He brought you in for a long awaited hug of his own.

“What's good, Yn?” He asked with a soft chuckle as he pulled away and settled in the seat to your left.

Just ahead, Yunho appeared onstage with his microphone in hand, and the two of you lifted your hands in sync to wave to your best friend.

You adjusted your bag in your lap, and clasped a hand on Mingi's shoulder. “This is surreal. Does it feel surreal?”

Mingi's lips pulled into a smile as nostalgia made his vision cloudy. “It does, every single time. I'm glad you're finally here—we’re all very happy that you're here now.”

You bumped your head against his shoulder and let it rest there for a moment, and his hand came up to gently pat your head to tell you he understood. You didn't need to say anything.

For the next hour and a half, you and Mingi got to watch Yunho and everyone else run through the last of the day's lighting checks. Periodically, someone else from Yunho's personal team would come and sit with the two of you, then leave quickly when they had something else on their to-do list.

At last, when the session wrapped up and everyone was sent to go home for an early night, you rushed down to meet with Yunho again.

He waited for you to be at his side before leading you down toward backstage. “There's a couple things I need to grab in my dressing room before we can head back to the hotel.” A thought suddenly interrupted his thoughts and his eyes widened. “Do you have accommodations? Please tell me you do.”

“Don't worry—I promise I'm not sleeping on the streets,” you teased. You'd figured all of that out pretty last minute with Hongjoong and Mingi's help.

Yunho nodded, a smile coming to his face. “Okay, good. I was gonna offer my room and I could sleep on the pullout couch.”

The thought of sleeping in the same room as him made your skin warm, and if you hadn't realized your feelings for him before, you would be confused as to why you were so flustered at the thought now. It wouldn't be the first time you had a sleepover. But this would be… different. Oh lord.

The backstage hallways were scarce and dimly lit in order to save energy, but it was enough to guide you and Yunho's way to the star dressing room. You swallowed as you reached the door—the facade plastered with a pretty, gold star with his name on it—and followed him inside.

“Hey, Yun?” You asked him as you lingered by the door and he rushed around to grab his things. The room was decently spacious, and definitely larger than all the other ones from his past tours.

“Mhm?”

“Could we… talk about something?”

He glanced back over his shoulder as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah, ‘course.”

You toed at the polished ground, fingers twisting and wringing in front of you. “It’s about the song. The, uhm, the your space one.”

His movements paused. He looked up and connected gazes with you through the vanity mirror in front of him. Yunho cleared his throat and ducked his head to zip up his bag. “What—what about it?” He asked, shouldering his bag and meeting you back at the door.

He seemed unable to look you in the eyes directly now as he closed the door behind the both of you as you stepped out into the empty hallway.

“I just,” you stammered. Blood rushed up to your face and you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “I needed to know—I didn’t need to know—it’s your life and your song, and you have every right to have feelings for someone without me knowing. And I think I’m asking this for selfish reasons, but… are you seeing someone?”

The question caught him off guard, his eyes blowing wide open. “Wh—no. No, I am not seeing anyone. Why do you ask?”

“The song—I know I shouldn’t be indulging in what people on the internet say, much less in the opinions of those who don’t even know you, but I couldn’t help but agree with them when they say the lyrics, the—the feeling of the song—you’re in love, and I—” Your breath caught in your throat as you choked on the words lodged there: And I am in love with you.

Yunho pushed an exhale out of his mouth and stepped toward you. So much shone in his eyes right then, and it didn’t matter how much light there was in this damn hallway, his eyes would always glitter like twin diamonds. “I am in love with someone. Yn, I’m in love with you,” he said. “I thought that the song would make it obvious, which is why I was so scared for you to hear it, but I realize now that this was just something I should have said outright.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest and it wasn’t from the nerves anymore. God, your knees felt like buckling from the force of the tenderness in his eyes alone. “You’re—you’re in love with me?”

“I am,” he nodded. He slowly reached for your hands and clasped them within his own. “I’ve been in love with you since that day you ran out of Science Olympiad practice to come to my audition; I’ve been in love with you from the moment you yelled at me for not being ambidextrous and I had beef jerky in my mouth—”

“I did not yell at you!”

He broke out into a cheeky, yet fond grin, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face with his hand. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine what life was like before I was in love with you—and yes, you did yell, but you can yell at me as much as you like, and I would still be head-over-heels for you.”

Your lip curled in on itself at all of his words, at everything he was revealing to you now. You wished you had known—oh, god, you wish you had known. You didn’t know if things would have been different, but for some reason, you had a feeling that all paths might have led here nonetheless.

You squeezed his hand between your own now. “You’re everything to me, Jeong Yunho,” you rasped out, unable to put strength behind your voice for fear of all of the emotion about to spill out. “And I’m so stupid for taking so long to figure it all out, but I’m in love with you, too, and I’d be damned if I let another day pass without you knowing that.”

Something washed over him in that moment, and he laughed, leaning over to cup the back of your neck and rest his forehead against your own. It was ridiculous, the fact that both of you were giggling and smiling at such a precipice of emotion, but it felt right.

You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as he murmured, “Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“Then come kiss me, rockstar,” you said, looping your arms around his neck. You drew him down to your mouth and felt his body mold against your own. Every crevice and curve slotted so perfectly with one another, and the heavy longing in your chest slowly eased.

“You guys have been incredible for me tonight—” Yunho beamed as he walked toward the front, center stage and looped the electric guitar strap over his head to the sound of the roaring crowd, “—so I've got a little surprise for you.”

One of the staff members had set out a mic stand and bottle water for him, and he approached both items to fit the microphone into place. Tonight was the Friday night concert being held in this city, and the energy was dialed to one thousand in all the best ways.

He held onto the microphone with one hand. “This song is dedicated to—written for—my best friend in the world, the love of my life, my stargirl. I'm sure you know it—you crazies debuted it at number two on the charts—this is your space.”

His smile tugged up wider at the reaction he received. If anyone in the crowd didn't know the song, they were about to fall in love.

Yunho laughed, shaking his head, as he began checking to make sure his guitar was tuned with practiced, nimble fingers. “Oh, by the way—” he pointed up at the accessory he wore, the crocheted headband holding his hair up and out of his face, with a row of stars across its band, “—she made this for me. Isn't it cute?”

The stadium echoed in choruses of “aw” and cheers.

He could only duck his head with a smile, eyes twinkling with fondness and tenderness at the thought of you. You were in the crowd, but you could be up here with him in spirit. “Yeah, that was me, too.”

After you and Yunho left the stadium yesterday, hands intertwined and a new page in your relationship turned, you’d gone back to his hotel to share a restful evening in one another’s presences. You revealed later that night that you spent the four or five days you were bedridden practicing your crocheting skills until you were able to make him a headband. A row of three stars studded the length of it—stars for your rockstar.

Yunho struck his fingers down the strings of his guitar with a gentle rocking motion from his opposite hand to let the sound reverberate around the stadium. The crowd cried in love as his soulful, beautiful voice filled their ears with love of his own. And as his fans filed out of the stadium for the night and headed home, Yunho could finally return to his home. Because you were here now… no matter how far, no matter the distance, the two of you would always find a way to be in the other's space.

a/n: pls remember to reblog, comment, and send asks if you enjoyed!

atz m.list

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luveline · 2 months

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jade baby I was wondering if you could do a hurt/comfort with Steve, but the reader comforting steve while he deals with his hearing loss after all the times he got beat up and stuff? Maybe he’s frustrated and she makes him feel better:’)

ty for requesting <3 fem, 1k

Steve’s eardrum was weakened after multiple traumas to the side of his head, but it’s the strangulation of vines in the Creel house that finally gives him permanent hearing loss in his left ear. Matter of time, the doctor said.

He pretends it doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t wear the hearing aid he’s fitted for, he doesn’t go for his follow up appointments. Steve acts like he got better just like everybody else did (sort of). He doesn’t care about taking his shirt off at the pool, ‘cos you all have scars from your time in the upside down, but he doesn’t talk about his ear.

“Woah, that kid can make a wave,” he says, squinting against the sunshine, his legs still wet from swimming.

In the pool, Dustin and his friends play an aggressive game of Marco Polo. Max sits on the side with her feet in the water shouting Polo’s that only serve to confuse him, Lucas beside her laughing and trying to curve his own shouting with his hand. Dustin throws his arm out at them and soaks their swim shorts in retribution.

“He’d be winning if they stopped messing with him,” you say, sitting on the lounger next to him and passing him one of the drinks from your bag. It’s still cold. “When’s Robin getting here?”

“Uh, she’s with Nance.”

“Oh, gotcha. When is she coming?” you ask, a little louder.

He must have missed a couple of words and assumed you asked where she was. He frowns, turning the can of original coke you’ve given him over in his hand.

“Steve?”

He looks up, turning himself to you more squarely. “Yeah?”

“Do you know when Robin’s gonna be here?”

He presses a finger to his ear. “You just asked me that, huh?”

“It’s okay. I’m just wondering.”

“Uh.” He ruffles his hair, face angled down to the floor. “I don’t know. Half an hour?”

Steve isn’t easy, he’s not promiscuous (anymore) (and who cares if he is?) but he loves flirty attention, and he’s a friend in need. Also, you have a huge awful crush on him even if you won’t admit to it.

You put your hand on his knee. “Half an hour for you to kiss me stupid, then.”

He lifts his head. “You wish.” He smiles at you all smug as he covers your hand with his. “Half an hour? I could rock your world.”

You both laugh and move your hands back to your sides. Your skin feels warm where he’d held it, you can’t help smiling, but it’s obvious it hasn’t really taken his mind off of the problem. Your ruse ran out of steam too quickly.

Steve looks down at his chest. “I’m sorry. It must be annoying, repeating what you’re saying all the time.”

“It’s not.”

“Come on, I know it’s the worst.”

“Steve, it doesn’t bother me. You need me to repeat what I said, or you need me to talk louder sometimes, so I’ll do it. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” he says, “I should just wear the– the hearing aid,” —his voice goes low with embarrassment— “and stop inconveniencing everybody.”

“You’re not an inconvenience, Steve.” You tilt your head gently toward your shoulder, palm up on the chair between you. “Steve, I think everybody would agree with me when I say that we don’t mind. It’s up to you. If Max doesn’t wanna use her cane, you don’t care, do you? You just let her use your arm. It’s the same thing. Or, it feels like the same thing for us when you don’t use your hearing aid.”

He winces.

You really don’t like the look of it, unsure if you’ve said the wrong thing. “Well, I could learn sign,” you say.

“What?”

“Sign language? We could learn how to sign, and then you don’t have to wear the hearing aid, n’ you don’t have to worry I’m repeating myself.”

“You’d do that?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling in bemusement. “Of course I would. And it would help anyways in places like this.” You gesture to the tens of kids shouting and splashing in the pool. “There’s so much noise. I can barely hear myself sometimes. And imagine the shit we could talk at the movies–”

“Thank you,” Steve says, surprising you with his arms suddenly reaching out. He kisses your cheek as he pulls you in, and he rubs your back gently, his face pressed to your hair. You hug him back and his arms tighten around you.

“You’re welcome,” you say. You haven’t even done anything.

“Seriously,” he says, giving your back a good scrunch with his hand.

It’s worth it for the scrunch alone, but you really mean it. Of course you’d learn to sign for him, you’ll do anything he needs you to do if it’ll make him more comfortable with coping with this new change. You smile into his naked shoulder, the smell of sunscreen under your nose, his hair tickling your ear.

“Oh, god, are you guys serious?” Robin asks. “When’s the wedding?”

“Should’ve started with the joke,” Steve says, putting his chin atop your head rather than pulling away. You turn just enough to see Robin from the corner of your eye.

She raises her eyebrows. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, just swapping out best friends for the better model.”

“I resent that, Steve, but I choose to forgive you because I’m in a good mood and Nancy made sandwiches.”

“My mom made them,” Nancy says from behind Robin's shoulder, looking down at the brown paper bag she’s carrying.

They turn away from you to call the kids in for lunch. “What did she…” Steve says.

“Her mom made sandwiches. I’ll get you a PB and J before Mike claims them all,” you promise.

He smiles a line, nodding at you appreciatively. When you turn away, he brings a hand to his ear, and he doesn’t hate himself for something he can’t help.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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alien-magnolia · 4 months

Text

Older! Eddie Munson x hyperfeminine! housewife! Reader : quick headcanons/ideas <3

18+ MDNI

Tw: big, girthy age gap :) (early 40’s /early 20’s), service kink!, sub!-coded fem reader, dom-coded Eddie munson, leashes!, obedience!!, etc

——

Marrying Edward Munson was most likely the best milestone of your life. The dull and bitter taste of Hawkins, Indiana had become bright and full of color!!

Your Eds has bought you a quaint, small, yet spacious enough home, in which you decorated with beige tones and tropical accents — plants, gold, mirrored walls, and topped it all off with a wooden kitchen. He provided for you as well, spending the usual nine to five workday facing the elements as a local construction worker. At exactly 5:10 each evening, he would come home to greet his babygirl. You were ever so ready!

He comes through the door, sawdust covered boots sprinkling dirt on the fuzzy carpet. You rush up to greet him, and you were met with a “hey babydoll,” and a swift strong arm picking you up to his lap.

With you clinging onto him like a little koala, he undresses his clothes, and then puts on a loose muscle tee with boxers <3!

“ how’s my little girl doing today, hmm? Tell me, doll,” a prompt from him was all it took for you to enthusiastically describe your day!! His patronizing smile made your “little kitty” as he called it, gush!!

You tell him about your cooking, your laundry, and how much you missed him, your daddy <3!

��Missed you too. How’s about your daddy shows you how much he missed his doll?,” his hairy forearms and calloused fingers grip your plush waist so tightly. He pulls you into his lap, and you feel his throbbing bulge press up against your mound. “Wet f’me?,” he taunts. You nod, your manicured hands clawing up his wide back and shoulders.

“Babygirl needs her leash and collar, yeah?,” he tuts at you, putting them on. His calloused fingers grab the O ring in the center of your collar, pulling the leash a bit. “There we go, sweets. Ready for daddy to play with. <3”

You could only drool and nod!

Your pretty tits pressed up against his hairy chest, his so so masculine hands squeezing your soft belly and hips until it HURT, and you rocking yourself on his bulge.

One thing you loved about Eddie, was that he was big. He was around five inches yes, but in width, goodness <3 it hurt to take him every time! He was wider than your hand, and would tut at you everytime your pretty pussy took that wide cock and huge balls of his.

So here you were, doing just that, clinging onto him, whining, as his girthy length stuffed you full. Belt buckle on the floor, your plush thighs against his tatted ones, his ringed hand on your ankle, which had a little ‘E’ tattoo on it.

Eddie actually gave you the tattoo himself, a few months ago, gently holding your ankle while working on the tattoo. You said it hurt but your Eds kept praising you for being so brave! <3 After he bandaged your new initial tattoo, he gave you your reward for being his “brave girl,” which was his cock stuffing you full for hours on end. <3

“Pussy’s just purring f’me, sweetheart. Look at that. She loves my cock, doesn’t she now?,” Eddie cooed at you as he bounced you on his girth. You could only whine and nod as you felt his balls, heavy and full, plap’ and slap against your wet cunt.

He came in you, of course, because you were his. The tattoo, the ring, the leash and collar, the part where he breeds his little wife, all signs that you belonged to him. You loved being his pretty little wife, spending the days at home, waiting for her husband.

It was all worth the wait <3

A/n: tysm for reading! If you like it pls comment or reblog it means a lot to me <3 -Liz

#liz’s masterlist #liz writes 🖤#stranger things smut #dom eddie supremacy #daddy!eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson filth #soft dom eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #top eddie munson

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midnightblues444 · 4 months

Text

Two man job |

College! Geto and Gojo x fem! Reader

Part one here

Warning: smut, m oral, and guided masturbation, threesome, nastiest thing I've written

"I've never gone this far with a guy before"

a term you found is a key to wrapping them around your fingers .

You've said this to both Gojo and Geto in the last 4 weeks of seeing them. each on different occasions that you carefully planned out.

Fucking around with best friends is no easy job, theres always risk that the other will find out. Yet so far theres no sign that either knows.

You usually meet up with Gojo in his car, driving around in the late hours of the night.Gojo was the faster of the two, almost so rabidly horny it was cute. He would always attach pictures of him in his boxers to all his messages.

Sometimes sending ones with his print as the focal point. This is where youd use your innocent persona saying you're blushing or something like that.

Leading Gojo to believe he taught you how to suck dick. You gave him a nervous whine, and look up at him and said: "I dont know how Toru"

"You'll be fine" he encourage, throwing his head back as you eased him down your throat. His sheer size made you feel like a true virgin again, struggling to take his length drooling all over it.

"just like that" he'd huff, guiding you with a gentle push

His groans, and thrusts picked up as you started tearing up. As he got closer and closer he let out deep whiny moans, making your clit throb. Hes needy and his pale face is flushed pink as he leaks into your mouth.

Geto on the other hand is, sensual and extremely domineering. He'd usually invite you over, and his place was clean and always prepped for you. He would ease into everything he did with you.

Passion in all that he touches, you usually dont have to crank up your innocent act because he makes you nervous enough.

"You ever touch yourself" he'd whisper in your ear

"Well I try to but cant finish" youd admit embarrassed

"I'll show you how then"

Seating you in his lap, his hand over your own as his thick fingers working themselves in and out of your wetness.

Hed coopraise, as you sigh and moan his name. Arching needily into his touch, working another finger in even when you whine that two's too much. He drooling at how slick you are, living for every sound you make for. That you shake and beg for him as you came all over his fingers.

A steady stream of links with both, you find yourself getting too comfortable that's probably why you dont check if they're together when you text them anymore.

The next thing you know, Getos asking you to come over.

You're nervous but excited, skipping to the familiar building. Pressing the elevator for his floor, with giddy butterflies flooding your stomach (and coochie)

You add a cute flare to your knock, adjusting your skirt and everything. You even baked cookies for this link.

Geto half opens the door, smirking down at you with a look you've never quite seen before. You smile at him.

"I baked us some cookies" you presenting him the box

"Is there enough for me"

The door opening fully, to reveal Gojo in all his glory.

"What you say (name) is there enough for three?"

They both laugh at your defeated look, you feel obligated to walk in. Shifting awkwardly on the couch, shrinking into the cushions. The loud sound of them chewing the cookies you baked fills the silence.

"You know what, I'm outta here" you say, standing abruptly. Mustering as much confidence as possible.

"But we just started" Geto feigns sadness

"Take a cookie" Gojo offers amused

They're worse when they're together. Matching cruelly unserious smirks as the play with you.

"Look, if you want an apology.." you start,

They laugh in a weird unison, looking at each other with mischief

"Suguru, you want an apology"

"That depends on how she apologizes, Satoru"

They look to you, expectedly, you can only shrug your shoulders unsure to what they're playing at. Studying they're expressions you cant seem to read.

"Maybe she could beg?" Gojo circled around to sit on your left

"Maybe she could get on her knees, do what shes good at" Geto sat to the right

You're their prey as of now, catching on to what they want from you. You fight back a smirk, it's been hard to conceal that your lowkey into the corruption aspect of this affair. You liked pretending to be a lamb and them the big bad wolves.

"I'll do anything you ask" you say

°《♡•`*☆》° °《♡•`*☆》° °《♡•`*☆》°

Sandwiched between the two men, you feel as though you'll explode right there. 3 orgasms in, Geto fucks you from the front and Gojo in the back. Harshly thrashing in and out of you.

"Too rough" you sob out incoherently, feeling like they're in your stomach

"Aww shes cryin" Gojo pinches your nipple, Geto kissing your tearful cheeks

The masochistic assholes, folding you in half are mean. Getting off to your tears, I mean you hurt their pride and now it's getting taken out on you.

You can feel their collective throbbing, they've switch positions after each rounds. Both taking turns between your cunny and ass.

"Fuck shes so tight, I'm gonna bust" gojo groans as he finishes and it leaks down your ass

"God shes perfect" Geto huffs out, you cant respond your too drunk on the sensation. Your g spot Perfectly getting hit each time, as Gojos slender fingers circle your abused clit roughly.

You can feel that knot inside you tear, almost painfully as you gush. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you fall limp on Gojos chest.

Uncontrolled and messy,

"Dude no way"

"We should make her do it again"

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #suguru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #getou suguru #geto thirsts #gojo thirst

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bloodlust-1 · 4 months

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Soaked .𖥔 ݁ ˖

Wyll x fem Tav — fluff, Explicit 18+

Summary: Tav's tent is leaking from the heavy rain, leaving her completely soaked, and well - she has to share a tent with someone.

Notes: absolutely nobody asked for this. BUT! I've never read a Wyll fic and I wanted to change that for myself and maybe for some of you ;p Heavy Petting!!

Shit! Tav groggily opened her eyes, only to see the sight of her drenched tent. The rain had seeped through the flimsy fabric, leaving everything inside completely soaked. She let out a frustrated groan, cursing her laziness for not setting up her tent properly earlier that day.

The once comfortable bedroll of blankets and pillows was now a soggy mess, and Tav knew she would be shivering in her damp sleeping bag.

How could she be so careless? She puffed her cheeks out, where the hells is she going to sleep tonight? It was down pouring and Tav needed to get to somewhere dry so she wouldn't get sick.

"Damn it!" She stepped out of the tent, shielding her eyes from the rain. It beaded down on her skin like bullets.

Breathless and drenched, she burst into Wyll's tent, startling him from his sleep. His eyes widened in surprise as he sat up, trying to make sense of the sudden intrusion. But as he recognized her, he relaxed and a small smile crept onto his face, "Tav?"

"What brings you to my humble abode at this ungodly hour?" he rubbed his eyes with a small yawn.

Tav sighed as she pushed back the wet strands of hair that were sticking to her forehead. She half smiled for awkwardly bursting into his tent. "Looks like my tent couldn't handle the rain," She joked shallowly, "and now everything inside is pretty much ruined."

Leave it to Tav to have the worst luck when it comes to camping.

"Do you mind if I bunk with you for the night?" The rain beat against the ground with such force, that it was almost intimidating.

Wyll's tired eyes scanned Tav up and down. Exhaustion and concern were etched across his face as he quickly rummaged through the corner of his tent. Without hesitation, he grabbed one of his own shirts and tossed it towards Tav.

"Here, take this," he said with a hint of urgency in his voice. "I can't have you getting sick in those wet clothes." Wyll's protective nature kicked in.

Tav's fingers tightly gripped the shirt, her eyes fixed on Wyll's stunned expression. It was almost comical how his mouth formed a perfect 'o' shape as the realization dawned on him. "Oh!" In a split second, he spun around, giving Tav a chance to change in privacy.

Tav chuckled at Wyll's reaction. She always found his dramatic responses amusing. But now, as she stood there clutching the shirt, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness. After all, Wyll was someone she thought attractive.

Even in this sorry state, Tav still managed to look pretty damn cute. He couldn't believe she was in his tent, wearing his shirt and changing right behind him.

"Okay, I'm done," she announced, tapping on Wyll's shoulder. He couldn't help but admire her, even in this awkward situation. The way the shirt hung off her curves that stopped at her mid-thighs was quite the sight.

"Sorry about that," Tav said, biting her lip as she tried to contain her awkwardness. "Thanks for letting me borrow your shirt. It's much appreciated." Tav slowly sank onto the floor, trying to get comfortable.

"Wait -" Wyll spoke out instantly.

"Hm?'

He squinted his eyes toward the floor. “Where’s your bedroll?”

Tav scuffed sarcastically, “Soaked.”

Sure, this wasn't the most comfortable situation for her, but it was dry and warm. But this was not good enough for Wyll, he would never let a lady sleep on the floor.

"That's not happening." He sighed and shook his head. Wyll lifted up the covers to his bedding, nudging his head at Tav, "Climb in."

Tav signed in relief, quickly hopping into the bed with Wyll. Her skin lit up with a tingling sensation from the unexpected contact of his skin. It was a bit nerve-wracking, to be this close to him, but she couldn't deny the butterflies that bubbled up inside her.

Just as Tav climbed in Wyll's horn accidentally got caught in her hair. He tried to pull away when he noticed. In a panic, he tugged harder, which only made Tav wince in pain.

"Ouch!" Tav winced, her hand going to her hair as she felt the sudden tug. But before she could even say anything, Wyll was already apologizing profusely.

"S-Sorry!" Wyll stammered. And in that moment, he noticed how close their faces were, their breaths hitting each other in the air.

Tav blushed, She quickly peeled off the strands from Wyll's horn, trying to untangle them as gently as possible. "You're okay, Wyll," she reassured him, "I'm sorry for this nest on my head right now."

Once untangled, Tav squished against Wyll. They both laid silently, trying to shake off their racing hearts. How in the hells were they supposed to sleep now when all they could think about was how closely their skin was touching right now.

"I think you look lovely." Wyll suddenly spoke into the air as he laid on his back.

Tav tilted her head towards him, "Huh?" Her face felt hot for a second, "Oh! You're talking about before..." She felt shy and chuckled amusingly, "Thank you, Wyll..."

He nodded his head in contempt. But Tav spoke up too, "You look good too...I don't think I've ever seen you look bad though when I think about it."

Wyll twisted his body to face Tav, his eyebrow slowly arched upwards "Even with these hideous horns and eyes?" He seemed skeptical.

"Yeah, I never thought of you ugly." Tav was being honest with him and it felt - nice.

Wyll's soft smile twisted into a scowl. "What’s wrong?" Tav asked with concern.

"Zariel. I could hear her in my head." He closed his eyes tightly, and let out a frustrated sigh before responding, "And you'd think she'd be off doing something better than to tease me."

"What is she teasing you about..?"

Wyll's eyes crinkled with a soft smile and giggle, "Ahh..That's a conversation for another day."

Tav brought herself closer to him, she gave him a playful nudge, "What? No - don't be such a buzz kill." she puffed out her cheeks like a child.

"You're too cute." Wyll's eyes softened as she looked into Tav's sincere gaze. "If you really must know, she was making comments about me looking at you."

Tav rolled her eyes sarcastically, "Pfft, why would she make fun of that?"

A smirk spread across his lips, "Well - if I was admiring your beautiful face, then it would give her lots to insult me on."

Tav felt a bit flustered by his comment, but she quickly regained her composure. With a sly smile on her face, "You obviously have good taste. You're quite the charmer, Wyll."

Tav booped his nose, "But don't worry, I won't tell the others. Your secret is safe with me."

Wyll's smirk turned into a genuine smile as he took in her boldness. "I like the way you think."

She felt a sense of pride at his reaction. Tav was used to being the one to surprise people, but it was refreshing to have someone catch her off guard in a good way. "I always speak my mind," she replied confidently.

Wyll chuckled.

Tav gently traced her fingers along his jawline, causing him to shiver in response. "Now tell me - what's really on your mind?"

"Those soft lips, and that little frame," Wyll said, his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled her closer.

Her heart beat faster with each passing second. They were already so close, and it was like an invisible string was pulling them closer and closer. Tav's eyes fluttered close until the warmth of her lips was met with his. It was gentle and soft. Pulling back slightly, she looked up at him with big eyes.

"Is that your way of saying you like what you see?" she teased, her confidence growing by the second.

He chuckled and pulled her in for another kiss, his hands gently caressing her petite frame. She melted into his touch, enjoying the grip of his large hands.

"I more than like it," Wyll replied cockily. "I'm completely captivated by you."

Tav's blood rushed to her face. Everything felt like a dream because just yesterday Wyll was just another attractive man. But now - it felt a little more complicated than that.

Wyll's hand rested on the curve of Tav's lower back. His fingers dipped into her back dimples with gentle strokes, "Even now, I can't help but want to kiss you more."

Tav's fingers traced patterns on Wyll's chest while she gazed into his eyes. Here she was, laid next to the city's righteous rich boy: The Blade of Frontiers. He surely wasn't a disappointment.

Wyll's lips met Tav's in a passionate kiss, their bodies pressed together close-knit. Tav's heart fluttered as Wyll's hand moved from her back to cup her face, deepening the kiss even more.

Their breaths mingled between kisses, and his grip became tighter and possessive. Tav's tongue graced his in a steady motion and her hands clutched the shirt of his back.

Wyll's hands roamed eagerly over Tav's body, his touch sending shivers down her spine. He seemed to put most of his attention on her ass. Wyll actually spent quite some time looking at Tav's body and her bottom was his favorite feature of hers. He filled the palms of his hands with her curves.

He kneaded and groped the pudge of her hips and ass. Tav's body responded instinctively, pressing closer to him, her own hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

With each kiss, the intensity grew, and their bodies molded together. Wyll's hand traveled, his fingers gripped Tav's thigh possessively and pulled her leg up to rest on his hip.

Their hips clashed, each movement sending sparks of pleasure through their bodies. She could feel Wyll's hard length poke at her stomach.

Tav's grip on Wyll tightened, her breath coming in small gasps as she lost herself in the moment. Every touch, every movement, was a desperate attempt to get closer, to feel more of each other.

As their kiss deepened, their bodies moved in perfect synchronization, lost in a dance of passion and desire. Tav's moans mingled with Wyll's, their lips never breaking contact as they explored each other.

Wyll tightly shut his eyes and let out an airy gasp, "You have no idea how much I've been wanting to do that. And now that I have, I can't get enough of you."

Tav planted a single kiss on his cheek, "I never knew how good of a kisser you were.." Her head rested on the nape of Wyll's neck. "I want to keep experiencing that if that's something you want with me?"

a smile spreading across Wyll's face. "Of course. I knew I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you."

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

#bg3 fluff #bg3 wyll #wyll ravengard #baldurs gate wyll #wyll x tav #wyll x reader #wyll romance #wyll x oc #wyll smut #wyll fluff #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 smut #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3

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erospandemos · 7 months

Text

Umbrella Thief

Hanni x Reader

Length: 4.2k

With the help of beta-reader @leafostuff

A series of unfortunate events leads you to share the same hotel room as your umbrella thief.

Why did you even agree to come to the school trip? You asked yourself. How did you get the splendid idea to join this little stupid event? The day had been nothing but rain, delayed transportation, closed museums, tasteless food, and now that it was… You put your hand in your pocket, stuck to your thigh, soaking wet from all the rain, and reached for the phone. Fortunately, it was still working. 12 pm.

The teachers failed to contact the bus and everyone had to walk back to the hotel, which was an hour away from the restaurant, and without an umbrella. Someone stole your umbrella. You left it near your bag as you went to the bathroom and when you came back, poof, it disappeared—just as it started to rain. Everyone was too worried about themselves and going back to the hotel, so you were forgotten and had to walk all the way under the pouring rain.

You sighed, for the nth time, and waited for the teachers to announce the pairings for the hotel rooms. As they started calling for everyone and seeing couple by couple leaving the reception, running in excitement to their little cove, you got impatient. You silently accepted that you’d be the last one. The problem was when they didn’t call you at all.

“Excuse me, Miss Kim. What about my room?” you asked politely.

“Yeah, about that…” she started. She patted her head with an apologetic expression. “Someone made a mistaking while booking the room and you’ll have to share it with someone from the other class that joined us.”

“What do you mean someone made a mistake?”

“We actually were one room short. I just asked for the last room they got left,” the teacher admitted. She took out the card to access your room and gave it to you. “I don’t know who the other person was but, here you go.”

You found your place by looking at the number on the sign beside the stairs. In front of your door was waiting an oddly familiar girl. Her height was average, her hair was black, and decorated her round face with straight bangs. Her clothes were baggy and looked to be trendy, new jeans and a big hoodie, and they were almost completely dry.

After looking at her enough, you realized you actually knew her name. Hanni Pham. She was your crush, what were the chances she’d be here to share the room with you? You couldn’t absolutely give her any hints or make her realize you might’ve liked her.

“Hi, Hanni.”

“Oh, hello, how do you know my name?” she replied with a raised eyebrow. Shoot. Think of an excuse, quick, say something.

“I mean, you must be Hanni, right? My teacher told me I’d be sharing my room with you, did she tell you?”

“Ah, that thing, yes. Well, good to meet you…”

You couldn’t help but nervously glance at her—she was way prettier in person—and your cheeks got warmer, you felt embarrassed since you were dripping water all over the floor and she was in the same room as you. It was the most unluckiest encounter you could have hoped for. Your chances were thrown out the window at this point. The first time you got to have a proper conversation with her was when you looked your worst.

It’s just a night, you repeat in your head. Just a night. Eight hours or something.

She swiped the card and let you both go inside.

Hanni smiled and joked with her vibrant joyful voice, “Damn, did Zeus have a grudge against you? You’re drenched! Here, take this towel,” she said.

“Actually,” you started, recalling everything that happened before, “Can you believe it? Someone actually stole my umbrella!”

Hanni noticed how frustrated you were and answered as sympathetically as she could, “No way! Who would do such a thing? They must be the raincoat industry's secret undercover agent.”

“Oh, definitely!” you laughed. “They probably have a whole stash of stolen umbrellas hidden away somewhere.”

The girl laughed too, interrupted by a soundless hiccup, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, it’s such a shame that people can’t be trusted these days.”

“It’s incredible! I left it beside my bag… I just left for two minutes and… Wait,” you stopped for a moment and looked at the umbrella peaking from her half-opened backpack. Almost ironically, it fell to the floor and you recognize it. There was no doubt. It was yours.

“That looks an awful lot like my umbrella.”

“What do you mean?” she stutters, as her eyes start to flicker. “Yeah, uhm, it’s a coincidence. I mean, who hasn’t had the same umbrella, right?” Hanni raised her shoulders and hands in a innocent shrug but failed to look at you in the eyes.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Coincidence? So you’re telling me that my umbrella magically walked out of my hands and into yours?”

Finally, she sighed with guilt. “Okay, fine,” she admitted. “You caught me. But in my defense, it was raining, and I was unprepared!”

“Unprepared? So, stealing my umbrella was your brilliant solution?”

“I panicked!” Hanni sheepishly replied. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.” She stopped and raised her eyes from the floor to look at you. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” you said. “Buy me lunch tomorrow and I’ll forgive you.” You pick up the umbrella and take your card out. You put it on the sensor but it wasn’t working. No wonder, it was dripping wet and you couldn’t dry it on your clothes which weren’t any less drenched. Hanni took it from your hands, brushing your fingers for an instant. You held your breath. Why were you getting nervous from her? She was a criminal!

“Okay, let’s go inside,” Hanni said, forcing a smile. “Wow, it’s quite a nice room. Quite spacious,” she commented when she stepped inside the room. Her eyes were open wide, her mouth slightly open, childishly surprised and excited.

“Oh, even a king-size bed. I got dips on that,” she said. “Where’s the second one though?” It was then that the realization dawned on you. A boy, a girl, one room, one bed. That’s how you become a father. Wait, no, that’s wrong. Your brain wasn’t working correctly, not at all.

“I’ll sleep on the floor, don’t worry.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? You can’t sleep on the ground,” Hanni gave you a weird look. “It’s been raining all day, there isn’t even a mattress… you would catch a cold.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

“This is not happening,” she said. “You are already drenched because of me… you’ll definitely die if you sleep on the floor.” You were already taking the blankets out of the closet and making a little makeshift bed in the corner in the room when Hanni stopped you and forcefully pulled them out of your hands. “What do you think you’re doing?” the girl jeered. “I’m not that much of a monster to let you sleep on the ground, you idiot.”

“You’re a girl, Hanni. I’m a boy.”

“It’s okay, we can talk to the teachers tomorrow and ask to get another room or a second bed. It’s just one night. I wonder where you are bothered. Are you nervous because I’m too pretty?”

You laugh loudly. “I just don’t want to sleep next to a thief.”

“Hey! I already apologized!” Hanni hissed and pouted. You stared at her cheeks, puffing out to two soft and round mochis. Damn it. Your weakness. You couldn’t get angry at her while she was acting this cute.

“Okay, okay. It doesn’t matter now,” you said. “So, do you have some sleep attire?” It was already too late, both of you were tired. You had to get some sleep before the next day of walking.

“Oh, look at you caring so much for a thief…” she grinned.

“What—” you cleared your throat. “What are you saying?”

“You almost sound boyfriend-material,” Hanni chuckled with amusement. “Sorry, are you embarrassed?”

Your pulse jittered somewhere around the 140 mark. Hanni must have noticed it and was having a blast teasing you. “I’m not embarrassed, these are just basic manners. This is what every gentleman would do.”

“Exhibit A.”

“Ugh,” you sigh. “Just get over it.” You took your stuff out and went to take a shower. You were a bit uncomfortable showing yourself in pajamas but it wasn’t like you could do anything else. The real problem was Hanni was done. She came out of the bathroom with a thin pajama made of short shorts and a small shirt.

She just stood there being all pretty and shy, playing with the hem of her shirt, her face a little down, looking at you through her eyebrows.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Am I supposed to say something?” you stuttered, matching her energy. Hanni doesn’t answer, instead, her lips quiver. You quickly ruffle your hair out of frustration. “What is this? This really feels like something a couple would do… Well—you look great,” you admitted. The second, the words came out of your mouth, you realize you made an enormous mistake. You quickly raise your head and look at Hanni, she’s already giving you the vilest of smugs, her embarrassment having disappeared completely.

“Heh,” she breathes. You close your eyes to prepare for what she’s going to say next.

“Have you been picturing me in sleepwear?” she giggles.

“No! I haven’t been picturing you in sleepwear. Get over yourself.

Hanni lowered her eyes to the floor, clutching her shirt and tightening her shirt with her hands.

You couldn’t help but look at her tremble a little. “It's pretty cold couldn't you bring something longer? I mean, look at your body. It's full of goosebumps.”

“No, I thought this would have been fine but turns out that—hey! You’re staring at my body!”

“What's up? I didn't look at your body inappropriately. I just noticed you had goosebumps.”

Hanni scuffs but you ignore her. Instead, you took a blanket and wrap her with it. She was startled at first, widening her eyes and glancing at you with a questioning glare, but then she just relaxed and covered herself better with it.

“Let's finally get this over with. At least the bed is comfy.”

“Okay, but,” Hanni started, raising a finger in the air and dramatically lowering it down to draw a line from the top of the bed all the way down, slicing it like a sandwich. “Don’t dare to cross the side of the bed though.”

“I won’t, I won’t… Good night.”

“Good night.”

And that was it. You were finally going to sleep. You closed your eyes and tried to forget that you were sleeping next to your crush and you succeeded for a second, until she started moving around. At first she just touched you with her foot. Then she literally pushed you off the bed. Sometimes, she’d wake up, holding her eyes half open half closed and scold you like, “I told you not to cross the line. Stop touching me.” You were too sleepy and didn’t have the heart to fight back so you just kept sleeping.

The worse was when she threw her arm over and slapped you. You got up and stared at her, debating whether to slap her back or make her sleep on the floor. You looked back at the clock. 1:42 am. You sighed and just put the blanket back on her.

The sixth time you woke up, it wasn’t for some unknown violent act. Instead, you felt a really warm softness on your back. You slowly turned around and saw Hanni hugging your back. Her arm was over and under yours, clinching your abdomen and squishing her face on you.

Very slowly, you took her arm and put it behind you, so she could roll over. You let out a satisfied sigh when you succeed, only for her to go back at hugging you, this time tighter, on top of that she threw her leg over and koala hugged you.

Hanni had a wide grin.

You decided to enjoy yourself. Afterall, feeling her embrace and her low breath on your back was quite relaxing and most of all, it was really comfortable. In fact, you fell asleep fairly quick, imagining you were her boyfriend.

After an hour, it was Hanni’s turn to wake up.

Someone was blasting music from the room next door, she wasn’t sure if it was from above or from the right but it surely wasn’t quiet. Hanni yawned, stroking her cheek on her very big hugging pillow, annoyed by the sudden disturbance that disrupted her very comfortable slumber.

But then her pillow started moving and breathing; and she realized it wasn’t a pillow at all.

“Oh no, oh no,” she whispered, panicked and flustered. You were still sleeping. Good. She peered through the dark to see the clock on the other side, it was three in the morning. “Stay asleep.”

Hanni started debating with herself on whether it might have been you or her who started cuddling. Well, she was definitely the one strapped to you but you were holding her arm too. Maybe, just maybe, it could have been a reflex. No, it was definitely on her.

“Wow, you smell good,” she let her thoughts wander. “Nope, stop it.” But that really wasn’t the moment. She had to slip out of there before you woke up and then it would have gotten really awkward. Hanni raised her arm and leg, trying to roll on the side but you started tossing and turning. I took a couple of turns and now you were back in the starting position but this time, you were hugging her a bit more.

And she didn’t mind.

Her bargaining stopped when she realized that after all she didn’t really want to detach herself from you because she was cold, you were warm, and soft, and nice… and cute. Again, Hanni couldn’t stop but let her mind race and enjoy the moment too much. “Oh my god, what's wrong with me?” she cursed herself. “Okay, well, you should stop pulling me closer, because that feels really nice. I can hear your heartbeat.”

Hanni liked you too and she knew it since when her friends invaded your classroom, dragging her together with them. She fell for you without knowing, you slowly crept inside her heart when you treated her so nicely and affectionately, not looking down on her nor admiring her too much. Sometimes you’d sit beside her, when her friends were talking with other friends—leaving her alone—and make her laugh during those very somber days. Hanni fell for you, but she never considered that you could be anything more but now it was too hard to ignore—glued to you—she was very aware of her blossoming feelings.

You woke up. And in the spur of the moment Hanni decided to accuse you of everything.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Oh my god, did you cuddle me in your sleep?”

“I didn’t mean to… Wait, you’re the one hugging me.”

“Hey, you know, it's not that big of a deal that you, like, held me in your sleep.”

“It’s you.”

“No, it isn’t. Hey, this ain't on me. This is 100 % on you, so yeah. And you've got your arm on me. I couldn't have done that. That's like pretty damning evidence right there.”

“You’re so red, Hanni.”

“Oh? Then why is your heart beating so fast?”

“You’re literally attached to me like a koala…”

“Hey, if you like want to confess something, that's totally cool.”

“It sounds like you do.”

“No, I don’t. I don't have anything. I'm not hiding anything. I was just giving you a safe space to get it off your chest.”

“Get off what my chest?”

“Well, you're hiding that you're like super into me or something stupid like that.” Hanni concluded. “Anyways, just go back to sleep, will you?”

As Hanni drifted again into a deep sleep, she started mumbling incoherently. You weren’t asleep yet and just laid there, debating whether you should tell her to shut up, maybe to tease her, or to continue listening to her. Suddenly, a brilliant crossed your mind: recording her. That was the proper revenge for the hell she made you go through that morning. You couldn't resist the opportunity, you slowly got up and took the phone without making a single noise and pressed the record button.

To your surprise, Hanni muttered your name and then, "You're the best. I love you so much."

Your eyes widened in disbelief.

Hanni, her voice filled with affection. You have never heard her talk this nicely and you were pretty sure it was directed to you. "I wish I could marry you. You're just so cute." Her words were confused but you could make out what she was saying pretty clearly.

Your eyes turned into a look of panic when Hanni whispered, "I wish I could tell you how I feel."

You realized that you might have uncovered something you weren’t supposed to. You decided to end the recording, but just as you reached for your phone, Hanni mumbled again, "I wish I could kiss you."

Now you were in full panic mode. He had no idea Hanni felt this way about you. You quickly ended the recording and put your phone away, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Your heart was beating so fast, that alone could’ve woken her up.

Moments later, Hanni stirred and woke up, her eyes fluttering open. She yawned and stretched, completely unaware of what you just did. Then she noticed your face, completely shocked and scared, you were sweating bullets and you were sure she could see a couple of droplets in the moonlight.

"What's going on? What’s with that face?"

You tried to play it cool. "Oh, it's nothing, Hanni. Just a weird dream, that's all."

Hanni wasn’t really buying it but she was to sleepy to really care and turned around. That’s when she saw your phone still on, the big pause button and the soundwave of the recording up. Hanni was sleepy but she wasn’t dumb—the smartest kid in the class earned that name for a reason—she snatched the phone up and put it to her ear. You cursed yourself for making such a mistake: why would you ever leave your phone like that?! Hanni woke up so suddenly and you had no choice but to drop everything you were doing and try to look like you were sleeping but that was a dead giveaway.

Her eyes widened in shock as she listened to herself confess her feelings for you. Mortified, she turned to you, her face bright red. "You recorded me talking in my sleep?!"

You chuckled nervously. "I didn't mean to. It was just a joke, I swear."

Your hand suddenly snatched the phone from hers. It was instinctive. You didn’t why you did it, it was a deep feeling inside you. But Sarah was having none of it. She leaped up from her blanket. "Give me that phone, you bastard! You have to delete it right now!"

You were surprised by her choice of words but didn’t have time to think about it, you tried to evade her, but Hanni was quick. She chased you around the room and your finger was trying to save the audio to your drive. But running and swiping wasn’t exactly easy, and you exited the app instead of saving the evidence.

And that was your second mistake: leaving your instagram open.

Hanni successfully tackled you, making you fall down and your phone flew out of hand. Hanni catched it and ran to the corner of the room, near the door.

She looked at the screen trying to find where to delete the audio but then she saw a picture of herself. It was her instagram account. Her most recent post had a like. Sure, he must’ve liked the photo randomly, she thought to herself but when she scrolled down and saw more hearts, some questions quickly started forming in her mind.

“Hey… you certainly liked a lot of my photos.”

“Hanni—w-what are you doing? What are you looking at?”

“Your instagram,” Hanni quickly said, busy scrolling on your phone. “Oh my god… you liked all of my posts. You even saved them.”

“Hanni please give me my phone back,” you begged her, trying to take your phone from her but she was faster than you.

“Let’s talk,” she said in a serious tone.

“Fine,” you agreed.

“You have a little too many pictures of me. What’s that about?”

“You said you wanted to marry me in your sleep.”

“Wha—you were saying you wanted to confess to me to your friend!”

“You watched my DMs?! What do you think you’re doing, Hanni Pham?! You’re violating my privacy!”

“Violating my privacy my ass! You literally recorded me in my sleep, just shut up.”

“Please, Hanni, put it down. I’m going to delete the audio and we’ll forget whatever happened today.”

“You really say the most random stuff to your friend. ‘Hanni is so cute, she is so pretty I can’t stop staring at her…’ Let me see some more.”

“Hanni please I’ll do whatever you want, just stop.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then say you like me,” Hanni said. She was trying her hardest to look threatening, to emanate a bit of authority but her bright red face showed that you she just as fluttered as you were. “I have seen everything, you might just admit it at this point.”

“Hanni, when you were sleeping you literally said—”

“If you don’t say it, I’m going to post the screenshots of your chat on the class chat.”

“NO! Okay, I’ll say it,” you reluctantly agreed. You took a deep breath and finally spoke, “I… I like you, Hanni.”

Hanni’s face turned into the biggest smile you have ever seen. “Say it again, I didn’t hear it.”

You sighed. “I really like you Hanni.”

“Is it the truth?”

“It… is. Yes.”

“Why?”

“Hanni stop being evil! You have already read everything in that fucking chat. There’s literally everything there—I said it, will you put my phone down now?”

“Okay, it’s fine,” she said and put the phone on the desk. You were to let out a sigh of relief but it remained trapped in your throat when Hanni said, “I like you too.”

“You what?”

“I figured, you already heard me saying it, so I’m gonna say it for real now. I like you too, a lot.”

You two started to laugh awkwardly to fill the silence between her words. When you stopped, the silence was even louder than before. You were looking at the floor and Hanni was looking at the ceiling.

“What do we do now?” she spoke.

“I don’t know.”

“Shall we sleep.”

“I don’t think we have any other option.”

You two climbed on the bed, hopefully for the last time that night. You laid there still, miles apart from eachother, for several minutes, without anyone saying anything. Hanni decided to speak first, “How long have you liked me for?”

“Oh, we’re starting with those questions?”

“I think I deserve to know.”

“Well… it was since I’ve seen you for the first time in your class.”

“Oh, that long ago?”

“What about you?”

“Since last month.”

“That’s cool.”

Hanni turned to you, her black eyes searching yours, and with a nervous smile, she asked, “Can I ask you something?”

You turned your head and met her gaze, “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

Hanni hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Why do you like me?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you let out a happy sigh. “What do you mean, why do I like you. Hanni, there are so many reasons. Your smile, your laugh, the way you make everyone around you happy, your kindness, your intelligence… I can’t pinpoint a specific reason. Whenever I see your face, I feel little better, and I look forward to seeing you again the next day. That’s it really. Why do I love you? Because you make me live with more passion.”

Hanni couldn’t resist, your words were getting to her so she pounced on you, pulling you in a tight hug. You were started but just accepted it, because you loved it. You turned around, and hugged her back, leaving her head on your chest, just to get back at her.

“This is exactly why I like you so much,” she managed to say groggily.

A kiss was too soon, for each other, so when Hanni got close enough to your face, you nuzzled your noses and pinched her cheeks. They were extremely soft, they were chubby although her face didn’t look like it. The velvety texture of her skin was surprising, it was as if touching a delicate, plush petal. Her cheeks dimpled with the sweetest, childlike charm, and her silly laughter filled you with joy, making it impossible for you to resist her tenderness.

Hanni was blushing madly but she loved it.

“I guess we kind of are really like a couple now huh?” she said. “A thunderstorm outside, cuddling in a king-sized bed. I... I guess I do kind of like staying with you like this. Just a little bit. I guess this wasn't too bad.”

“We’re gonna talk about this tomorrow, let’s sleep for now,” you suggest.

“Yeah, good night.”

THE END

Written, 11 July 2023 - 02 October 2023

#hanni #newjeans #newjeans hanni #newjeans fluff #hanni fluff #kpop fluff #kpop #fluff

661 notes · View notes

vioartemis · 6 months

Text

Two's company, three's a crowd

(Tara Carpenter x fem! reader || Sam Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: surprise I guess? 👀 Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 Warnings: (+18), smut, dom! Sam (daddy kink), dom! Tara (mommy kink) (NOT AT THE SAME TIME), sub! reader, fingering, cunnilingus, praises (?), degradation, strap on (lmk if I forgot something), lil bit of angst (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

You were sitting on the couch at Tara and Sam’s apartment, the youngest Carpenter beside you. The Babadook was playing on the tv in front of you.

Tara had invited you over for a movie night, so naturally you accepted.

Half an hour into the movie, her real intentions were given away when her lips went to your neck.

“T-Tara… we agreed not to do that again…”

“I know… But please, just one last time… I miss hearing you moan my name, I miss feeling you clench around my fingers…” the brunette whispered in your ear, knowing the effect her words had on you

“Tara-”

You tried to deny her, but her kisses on your neck were driving you crazy already. You had told yourself you wouldn’t give in anymore, but she always managed to convince you.

The main reason that pushed you to deny her was your crush on her, and the fact that she only saw you as a friend. Friends with benefits, nothing more.

As you didn’t seem to push her away, Tara took it as a sign of consent. Her hands sneaked under your shirt, fingers lingering over your skin, while her lips were leaving wet kisses on your neck.

Her hand slipped in your pants, in your underwear.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re already so wet… And you say you don’t want it?”

Tara removed her hand from your underwear and took off your clothes quickly, not wanting to waste anymore time. She got on her knees on the floor, putting your legs over her shoulders, licking a long strip on your center, eliciting a moan from you. Moan that gets louder as two of her fingers enter you.

She thrust her fingers inside of you at an already fast and rough pace. It was like she was trying to make you cum as fast as possible. You hated that, and you hated it was working so well.

You could feel her smirk against you as her lips wrapped around your clit. As your hand went in her hair to keep her in place, your eyes me for she was looking at you, knowing you were close.

She added a third finger and sucked harshly on your sensitive bud, making you harsh your back as you came around her fingers, screaming her name in ecstasy. She pulled out, and put her fingers in her mouth, licking them clean.

“So how was that? Do you regret letting me fuck you?”

Before you could answer, you heard the apartment door opening. You quickly put your underwear and pants back on before Sam could see anything, cheeks red in embarrassment.

“Hey Sam!” Tara said, a smirk still on her face, as she went in the bathroom to grab a tissue to wipe your cum off her chin

Sam walked up to you, looking at her sister as she passed next to her, before her gaze fell on you.

“I thought you said-”

“I know, I know… I tried, but she can be really convincing when she-”

“I don’t need to know that” she interrupts you “But Y/n, you can’t just keep doing that if you don’t want to…”

“I-it’s not that I don’t want to… I just…”

You looked down, embarrassed.

“Hey…” Sam sat beside you and rubbed your back “I know it’s hard, but you must move on… for your own well-being. And for that, you need to set clear boundaries”

You knew she was right, but it was just so hard to think Tara would never see you as more than a friend she can have sex with whenever she wanted.

But then there was Sam. Sam who had been here for you ever since you told her about the situation, after she caught you crying. Sam who comforted you, hugged you, whipped your tears away when you needed it. Sam who you had feelings for as well.

You hated yourself for that, having feelings for both Carpenter sisters.

Tara didn’t know you had feelings for her, but Sam knew. What would she think of you if you told her you liked her as well? That you didn’t know what you wanted, probably.

And that was true, you were lost. For a long time, you thought Tara was the one you loved, but then you got to know Sam more, spend more time with her. And your feelings evolved, and here you were, confused.

In other circumstances you would have suggested a poly relationship, but they were sisters so that would just be weird.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

A few weeks after this, you had managed to deny Tara more firmly. You hoped she understood, and wouldn't try anything again, because you were moving on and forgetting about your feelings for her.

This night, Tara was at Mindy and Chad's, working on some papers for college. They had offered you to join them, but you had preferred saying yes to a party Anika invited you to.

You had told her about your feelings for both Tara and Sam when you still had feelings for the youngest Carpenter, and she wisely told you "Two's company, three's a crowd". You believed you could use some more time with her; maybe it'll help you get out of this shitty situation.

And so you did; you spent more time with Anika, and you two became the best of friends.

"C’mon, it’s gonna be funnn!" she had told you when you were hesitating to go to the party

And she was right. It was fun.

"Hey, Y/n... maybe you should slow down on the drinks..." the brunette said as she saw you chug down your 7th drink. Or was it 8th? She had lost count.

"I'm finee don't worry about me" you reassured her

"Yeahhh, of course"

She did not believe you and took a few steps back to make a call.

"Sam, can you come and pick up Y/n? She's..." she turned to look at you "... drunk af"

Sam sighed, and fifteen minutes later she was looking for Anika and you. You both were at the bar, Anika holding all drinks away from you while you tried to have 'a last one'.

"No, Y/n, you said that three drinks ago. It's for your own good- Sam! Can you take her away from here, please?"

As soon as you heard Sam's name, your head snapped towards her.

"Hi Sammie!" you said, giving her a tight hug

"Y/n/n, we're gonna go home, okay?"

You were about to protest, but the way she ran her fingers through your hair made you look up to her. And the sight you had of her in that position... her looking down at you, hand in your hair, with those dark eyes...

"... Okay..."

They were both surprised you agreed so quickly, but went with it without complaining.

"Good g- decision" Sam said, kissing your forehead "I'll take good care of her" she then reassured Anika

If you weren't drunk, maybe you would've noticed the little pause in her sentence.

"Thank you again, Sam. See you both later!"

Sam and you waved goodbye to Anika, as the oldest Carpenter led you back to her car an arm around your waist to ensure you wouldn't fall.

She then helped you sit in the car, before taking place herself and starting the engine. She started driving home, looking at you every so often to make sure you were okay.

"Why did you drink so much?" she asked after a moment

"Thought it might solve the problem"

"What problem? The whole situation with Tara?"

"The whole situation with..." you waved your hand in a circular motion towards her "... both of you"

Sam raised an eyebrow, confused.

"What?"

"Oh, y'know... cause I have feelings for you but it's weird cause I told you I liked your sister and now I tell you I like you but you're going to think I don't know what I want or that I'm just trying to hook up with everyone but-"

"You have feelings for me...?"

"Yeah..."

Sam stopped the car in a deserted parking lot and looked at you.

"Do you really mean it? Or is it just the alcohol speaking?"

Even drunk, you could tell she was hoping you said you meant it.

"I mean it. I have feelings for you Sam"

She raised a hand to put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Good. Because I have feelings for you too"

She used her hand that stayed on your cheeks to pull you a bit closer to her to kiss you. You kissed back, but the position in the car wasn't the most comfortable.

When Sam pulled away, it was only to move her sit back and pat her lap.

“Come here”

You moved almost immediately, straddling her lap, pulling her in for another passionate kiss. Her hands were soon holding your waist while yours were on both sides of her face.

No one had ever kissed you like that. For the first time, you felt like you actually meant something.

The way her lips moved against yours, the way her hands slid to your hips so she could hold you tighter against her…

Her lips went down to your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin until she felt you grasp her shoulders. Only then she seemed to realize what she was doing and pulled away.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have, I-”

“No, please, don’t stop” you said quickly

“Are you sure? I don’t want to force you into anything…”

“You’re not forcing me, Sam. I want to. I really do”

She looked in your eyes, looking for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. But you really wanted it, there was no doubt.

You smiled and kissed her again, arms locking around her neck as her hands were slipping under your shirt. She was about to lift your shirt up, but stopped, looking around hesitantly.

“Hey, relax… no one’s gonna come around here” you reassured her

You were right, and she knew it. It was 1am, and the parking lot was empty. No one would take a little walk here at that time.

“If you want to stop at any moment, tell me, okay?”

“It won’t happen, but if ever, I’ll tell you, I promise”

She nodded, satisfied with your answer, and took your shirt off. Not letting her the time to do anything, you unclasped your bra and let it fall on the passenger sit.

Sam’s eyes were locked on your exposed chest, and you could notice a light blush on her cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful…” she whispered, hesitantly bringing a hand to your breast and giving it a soft squeeze

She then became more confident and started flicking your other nipple with her tongue, before taking it in her mouth and sucking on it. The moan you let out was music to her ears.

She had heard you moan before when Tara forgot to silence you on the days Sam was home, but this time it was different. It was her that made you moan. That thought in mind, she kept on playing with your breasts, every moan you let out turning her on more and more.

At one point, her free hand started to unbutton your shorts. Helping herself with her other hand, she lifted you up and threw your shorts somewhere in the car after taking them off you, as well as your panties.

She took a minute to admire your body, eyes full of lust and desire, before running a finger between your folds, unable to hold back a smirk at how wet you already were.

“So wet for me… You really wanted that, didn’t you?” Sam whispered in your ear, kissing and licking your neck as she slipped a finger inside

She set a slow and soft pace, her other hand on your back to keep you close while she continued to kiss your neck, occasionally sucking on it, leaving marks that would soon turn into dark purple hickeys.

When your grip on her shoulders loosened a bit, she added another digit, curling them just right, eliciting a loud moan from you.

“Such a good girl, taking me so well…” she whispered, her fingers now pumping in and out of you at a fast pace

A loud moan left your lips at the praise, for Sam's greatest pleasure. She loved knowing she was the one making you feel like that. She loved the sight of your pretty face scrunched in extasy, the feeling of your cunt around her fingers as she fucked you dumb.

You were struggling to think straight at this point, the way her fingers curled inside you driving you crazy. You were already embarrassingly close to the edge, but you needed -and wanted- more.

“S-Sam please…” you moaned out

“What is it Y/n/n?" she could tell you were close, but she wanted to to hear you say it. She wanted you to tell her how good she made you feel. "Is my little princess going to cum? Am I making you feel that good, baby?"

"F-fuck- yes, s-so good..."

Sam hummed in satisfaction, leaving some more kisses on your neck, before circling your clit with her thumb and whispering in your ear:

“Cum for me”

You came around her fingers with a loud moan of her name as Sam kept on fucking you through your orgasm, planting hot kisses on your neck and jaw. After a few thrusts she pulled out of you, and kissed your forehead, whispering you praises before licking her fingers clean.

She held you tightly as you came down from your high, stroking your hair gently.

After a minute, you pulled away slightly, only to quickly lean back in for a lustful kiss, hands slipping under her shirt.

“Y/n-” she tried to say between kisses

“I want to make you feel good too, Sam”

She was surprised but wasn’t going to complain. She would lie if she said she hadn’t dream of that. She led you to the backseat while kissing you again, smiling against your lips.

When you woke up in the morning, you were laying on Sam’s chest, one of her arms around your waist, her other hand stroking your hair gently.

“Good morning” she said with a smile as she saw you opened your eyes “Dis you sleep well?”

“Yeah I- are we home? How-”

“You fell asleep after hm… after round 2. I thought you would prefer to sleep in a bed rather than on the backseat of my car”

“Oh, thank you” you said softly, as she moved a strand of hair away from your eyes

“… do you regret? What we did yesterday” Sam suddenly asked

You could tell she was hoping you would say no. She really liked you, it would break her heart if you said you regretted.

“No, I don’t regret it”

Your answer made her smile.

She put a hand on your cheek, pulling you a bit closer to her.

“Can I kiss you?” she whispered

You nodded and closed the gap between you two. Her lips were soft against yours. The kiss was even better than you remembered.

“I love you Y/n…”

“I love you too, Sam”

You smiled at each other, and went back to kissing, happier than ever.

If only you knew Tara was behind the door… How she heard everything, how her heart broke… how she regretted not having told you how much she loved you…

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

It had been a few weeks since Sam and you started officially dating. You both were happy together, feeling really loved and wanted.

Tara on the other hand… She had trouble keeping a straight face when she was around you two. She regretted not having told you how she felt about you. She knew she had lied to you, telling you she only saw you as a friend with benefits, but truth is she was scared of her own feelings for you. Scared to be hurt again.

What happened with Amber in Woodsboro left more scars than she thought. She loved her, and Amber betrayed her. She didn’t want to live that again. So when she started to have feelings for you she decided to bury them deep inside in fear.

The ‘friends with benefits situation’ was the only thing she found to still have the chance to be intimate with you, with no feelings involved. You were fine with it at first, but after a while you told her you wanted to stop.

She didn’t think you were serious at first; you had told her you were enjoying yourself every time, so why would you want to stop? She took it a break, not as a real and definitive stop.

Until she heard Sam and you that night, saying ‘I love you’ to each other.

That night she understood she really had lost you.

Laying on her bed, she was looking at pictures you took together. Realizing she was hurting herself, she put her phone away and closed her eyes.

When she felt something poking her arm, she opened her eyes. To her surprise, you were sitting beside her, smiling.

“Y/n?”

“I miss you Tara…”

Your fingers traced light patterns on her arm, going up to her shoulder, then her neck, her collarbones, her chest…

“Y/n what are y-”

“Shhh…” you said softly, putting a finger on her lips to shush her, before leaning in to whisper in her ear “I want you…”

She couldn’t believe her ears.

“But- Sam?”

“I don’t care about Sam… Only you” you murmured, your lips pressing against her neck

She should question it, she knew she should, but she didn’t. She wanted it. She wanted you.

She pushed you slightly away by your shoulders and made you lay on your back, before she went to her wardrobe, looking for something inside.

“Stay still. I’m going to fuck you so good the only thing you will remember is my name. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” she smirked at you

“Yes… Fuck me dumb, please…”

“Please who?” Tara asked as she came back to you, her favorite strap attached to her hips, smirking a little more as she saw your eyes widen at the sight of the strap

“P-please mommy…”

She walked to the bed and crawled on top of you. She kissed your lips as soon as she was close enough to do so, enjoying the feeling of your lips against hers.

“I love you Y/n…” she whispered

“I love you too, Tara…”

She smiled, more than happy with your answer, before taking off your clothes quickly. She was getting impatient due to all these weeks without being able to be close to you. She lined her strap with your entrance and looked at you.

“Remember the safe word?”

“Of course”

“Good”

She nodded in approval and started to enter you, softly for the first half, but then snapped her hips forward, pushing the last inches in you in once motion. The way you moaned under her made her the happiest.

“Do you know how much I missed having like that under me?” she asked as she was setting a fast pace, watching her faux cock going in and out of you with bright eyes “You’ve been a very bad girl, saying you loved Sam and not me… It made me really sad you know…”

“I- I’m so-sorry I-”

You were interrupted by a more powerful thrust of her hips, and by the loud moan it provoked.

“Aw, did you cum already? My… You really missed me, didn’t you?”

Despite the fact that you just came, she kept on thrusting into you, fucking fast and rough. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when she hit that one spot inside of you, added to the overstimulation you were experiencing.

Tara was enjoying the sight of you under her like that, tears pricking in your eyes as you came a second time.

“T-Tara please…” you whined, becoming too sensitive

“No, you wanted to act like a slut, fucking my sister instead of me, you deserve to be treated like one” she said, picking your legs up and putting them on her shoulders

The new angle almost made you scream in ecstasy as you came once again.

Tara’s thrusts slowed down; maybe she took pity on you after all.

“My pretty little slut…” she murmured as she kissed your lips, pulling out of you

She then got on her knees between your legs, and started cleaning you up, licking your cum off your tights. She couldn’t resist, and gave your pussy a few licks as well, enough to make you cum again on her face, moaning Sam’s name…

Wait what?

She opened her eyes suddenly.

She was still on her bed, alone. She could feel herself dripping with arousal. So it was just a dream… she thought, sighing.

Suddenly, she heard you moan again. The walls really were thin…

She grabbed her pillow and stuffed her head in it, hoping it would cancel the noises. It did not work well; she could still hear everything.

“You want daddy’s cock baby?”

“F-fuck yes, please…! ‘Want it so bad…”

Tara growled in her pillow, not wanting to hear all that. She hit the wall.

“Can you two fuck more quietly?! Some of us are trying to sleep!”

She didn’t hear an answer, but she couldn’t hear anything anymore, so it was great already.

She tried to sleep again, and was just about to fall asleep, when moans came to her ears again -not as loud as before but still. The bed was even hitting the other side of the wall, making loud ‘bang’.

She growled again, but didn’t try to silence you again. Instead, she just went to the living room and tried to sleep on the sofa. Sofa on which she fucked you a few months ago.

Her eyes filled with tears at the thought that it was the last time she got to be that close to you, and that it would never happen again.

[Next part]

#tara carpenter #sam carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter smut #tara carpenter smut #sam carpenter x reader

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box-milk · 24 days

Text

You are not mine

Pairings ~ Alessia Russo x batlle! reader

Genre~ angst

Warnings ~ infidelity, angst no happy ending, short.

"I love you, Victor but you are not mine"

All your fight was gone. The anger faded, and the sadness stepped in. Your reality was cruel, but it's one you would have to live with.

You sat cushioned on the off-white carpet surrounded by happy memories in now broken picture frames and the shredded pieces of the wine soaked wedding dress. You nursed the last bit of the grape wine and allow yourself to fall into a trance of what use to be.

Your mind travelled until the realization of when everything began to collapse set in. Ignorance allows you to turn a blind eye on the tensed touches, fake smiles, and shifty eyes when both of you were in public and canstant change in fragrance all after the ring was put on your finger.

Looking at said glistening ring, you chuckled at yourself the clear fool for ignoring the obvious warning signs all because you didn't want to be alone. The irony of it all is that you stand to be alone regardless.

°•°•°•°•°•°

An angry gasp wakes you from where you slept on the floor, disgruntled you sat up and allowed the flickering shadow like figure to become whole. This is probably the only time in a very long one that you saw pure emotion from the older woman, even if it's raw unwarranted anger.

"Before you attempt to release your unjust anger, remind yourself if it's fair."

Alessia has never felt this cold even in England's gloomy weather, but when your emotionless voice hits her ear, chills tickle her spine, and she knows she's about to suffer a great loss.

Lost in the blist under another woman's sheets, she didn't consider the repercussions of her actions, but the light had already brought out the secrets hidden in the dark and there was no amount of fixing that she could do.

Alessia gets confirmation that you're aware of her infidelity when you pass your phone to her weakly, and she reads the chat between you and her team's vice captain. Staring at her, the screenshots of erotic photos and text with the other woman.

Taking a deep breath, the young striker is formulating words sweeter than honey in hopes that she could convince (deceive) you into staying with her. You pay no mind standing on your shakey feet stretching away the days misery.

"I'm not interested in your explanations. There's absolutely no justification for what you did to me, I honestly don't believe I gave you a reason to step foot out of this relationship. I did all I could so you can swallow all your deceitful words. I'm no longer the fool that believes you."

The weight of the cold silver ring feels heavier than it actually was in her hand. The realization of what could have happily been reflected in the palm of her hands.

"Ona is coming to get me, and I'm going back to spain. There is no need to worry about hiding anymore."

"Wait, no, this isn't what I wanted."

"But it's what you deserve. As sad as it is, you have to realize this is your doing, and I unfortunately won't stick around to be second best. It's not fair."

Alessia selfishly wanted to erase what you knew to change her ways, to return faithfully to you, but she knew the gut-wrenching truth ends with her losing you.

You knew she didn't deserve tenderness, but she was all part of you knew. Gently placing both palms and her wet cheek, your attempt to whip away her guilty tears fruitless as they're quickly replaced by fresh ones. You gaze into the ocean blue one last and place a kiss at the corner of her lips.

"Te amo alessia pero no eres mia."

An:

A fic written by me that I actually like? Yes sir!!!

#woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo x y/n #arsenal wfc #arsenal women

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thelov3lybookworm · 7 months

Text

Remember Me? (Part four)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: very small chapter, but I felt like adding more to this part would not be good, so I'll try my best to write the next chapter quickly. Though I will not make any promises as my exams start from Wednesday, and I need to study for them.

•○🌑○•

Y/n glared at the redhead at her doorway.

She wanted to tell him to leave, but she couldn't turn him away now that her son had seen the visitor.

Eris smiled at Fin, stepping closer to the threshold, and Y/n almost slammed the door in his face in a panic that gripped her. Eris's eyes flew to her, and he raised his hands. He gave her a look that said no harm intended.

She hesitantly inched the door open, wondering about what his motives might be in visiting them, especially in the dead of the night. It also didn't help that her son was so eager about a stranger.

She'll have to have a chat with him.

But for now, she let Eris in.

He stepped in, nodding at her before again turning to Fin, grinning.

"It's good seeing you again."

Due to the heavy rain outside, Eris was dripping wet, droplets of water cascading down his body and dropping everywhere from his soaked clothes. And she wouldn't clean it, especially when the person making the mess wasn't welcome.

"I hope you realise you are making a mess. You will be cleaning it."

Eris blinked at her as she shut the door and turned to him, her arms crossed across her chest. "You're talking to me?"

"I don't see anyone else I could be talking to. You are soaked and dripping water everywhere. I will not be cleaning it."

"Oh, alright."

And despite everything, she watched intently as his clothes dried up, his body glowing lightly. Even the small puddle that he had created on the floor hissed and vanished, as if it never existed.

Fin gasped, staring wide eyed at the display of magic. "How did you do that?!"

"It's my magic, young one."

"Really?" Fin stared at the Autumn Court's High Lord in wonder.

"Really." Eris smiled.

"What else can you do?"

"Hmm. I have fire magic, so I can do anything related to it."

Fin giggled, grabbing Eris's hand and tugging him into the living room.

Y/n sighed. She really did need to talk to her son.

She could do that later. At the moment, she decided to follow them. But after she made some tea. It was late, and she could feel a headache coming.

By the time the tea had brewed and she poured it into two cups, Eris had made himself at home on her couch. He was leaning back, nodding along as Fin showed him his toys.

Eris glanced back, realising Y/n was back. He straightened, still nodding along to Fin, but now looking at her.

She set a cup down in front of him, leaning against the doorframe leading towards the staircase that led to their bedroom.

She just watched as Fin and Eris played, Fin mostly running to his toys box, bringing out a new toy, handing it to Eris, and then running back to get something new.

Within a few moments, there was a pile of toys next to Eris on the couch, and never once did he stop paying attention to the little child speaking enthusiastically. He didn't seem to notice anything other than Fin.

Which was cute.

Y/n didn't know where that thought came from, but it did.

•○🌑○•

Y/n sighed. It had almost been an hour since Eris had arrived, and Fin showed no signs of stopping.

Eris had, at some point, begun to make figurines out of his fire magic, making little animals float above his hands before making them run through the air around a giggling and squealing Fin.

By midnight, Y/n's restrain snapped.

"Finnian. Its time for bed. Come on, let's go."

Fin looked up with placating eyes. "Please mama. Just a few more–"

"You better get back to the bedroom young man, before I yell at you. We both know we don't want that." She said, gentle but stern.

His eyes filed with tears and he dropped the toy he was holding in his hand into the box. After that, he simply waddled away.

Y/n watched his every move until he disappeared upstairs, guilt gnawing at her heart. She sighed before turning back to her unwanted guest.

He sat there looking extremely uncomfortable. He sat at attention when her eyes met his, looking ready to bolt.

She walked closer, her arms folded across her chest. He stood up quickly when she entered his personal space.

"Eris." She regarded him coldly. "I don't know what you want with me or my son. I don't know why you are so interested in our lives. But I do know that I will not be tolerating your bullshit until you give me a good reason not to gut you like a fish. You hear me?"

He nodded, opening his mouth. She didn't give him a chance.

"Good. Now get out. And don't show your face until you have a good reason."

She made to turn away, but Eris interrupted her.

"I can't leave. Have you seen the rain outside? I'll catch a cold. And where will I go–"

"There's plenty of places where you can crash for the night. For instance, an Inn in Velaris could surely accommodate you. And as for you being wet, you can perform your little party trick to dry up."

"Come on, it's just for one night! I'll leave in the morning. Please, he would want me to stay."

Y/n sighed deeply. "Eris. Get. Out. If you are so desperate to spend time with my son, then you can come back later. For now, I not letting a practical stranger live under the same roof as my son."

The two of them had a staring competition for a few moments before he caved.

"Fine." He turned away, walking out of the door. She slammed it shut the moment he stepped fully over the threshold.

She leaned back against the door, staring up at the ceiling. Tears of frustration pricked at her eyes.

Why was it always her?

It wasn't fair, her life being filled with hardships.

First she got pregnant with the child of a male she thought loved her, then she had to run away from home when she found out she was with child. She had to live in a cottage all alone, never stepping outside for fear that her father would be waiting to capture her. She raised her son all by herself, knowing nothing about how to care for a baby.

And now, she had run into the father of her child, who wanted nothing to do with her, had no hand in raising the child, but still thought he was entitled to him.

And a practical stranger was so invested in her and her son's life that he was showing up to their door in the middle of the night.

Life was just great.

She let out a frustrated breath before retreating to her bedroom, where she found Fin lying down, facing away from the door. If she hadn't been paying attention, she would have thought that he was asleep.

But he wasn't. She could hear faint sniffling sounds coming from him, and her heart broke in her chest.

She hadn't yelled at him by any means, but she knew she still hurt his feelings.

She slowly tiptoed behind him, lying down and then snaking an arm around his small frame.

"Hey." She whispered. He stayed quiet.

When she tried to tug him back towards her so she could hug him, he wiggled away angrily. "I'm sorry. Could you consider forgiving me?"

He shook his head, his sniffles increasing.

"Please tell me why you are angry my love."

She tried to tug him back again. This time he let her.

He was quiet for a few moment as she combed her fingers through his hair. "You didn't let me play with him. You almost yelled at me."

"I'm sorry for that." And she was sorry. Because she knew it wasn't his fault she was insecure and scared of trusting others. "Really. Please forgive me?"

He turned to look at her, his face red and wet, tears lining his eyes and lashes. "I wanted to play with him mommy."

"You can play with him some other time. It was getting late and you could have gotten sick if you stayed up long. I'm still sorry for almost yelling."

He nodded, scrunching his tiny little face. "Okay. I forgive you."

She held back a grin, feeling bad for wanting to laugh at his despair. No one should blame her though, kids were just funny like that.

"Thank you very much."

"Where is he now?"

"He left. He is staying somewhere else."

"Why? He could have stayed here with us."

"Baby, do you remember what I told ypu about strangers?" When he nodded, she continued. "He is a stranger to you, is he not?"

Fin stayed quiet.

"You should not trust strangers so much."

"But you know him mama. He is not a stranger if you know him right?"

He got her there.

"Yes darling, but I don't know him well. I'm not saying you should not play with him. I'm just saying you should be careful around other strangers. And I am also trying to understand why you like him so much."

He played with his fingers for a couple of moments before answering.

"Because I don't have anyone to play with."

She stilled, then whispered. "What?"

He nodded, not meeting her eyes.

"I don't have any friends, other than Sam and Nyx. And I don't even play with them that much. I feel very lonely mama."

Her heart cracked for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

She realised that in her need to protect her baby from the evil of this world, she had kept him from the happiness and joy too.

And that would simply not do.

"You have me to play with." She pointed out weakly.

"But you have been very busy and you seem very stressed all the time. I didn't want to disturb you."

She beat back the tears that threatened to clog her throat. "I will never be too busy to play with you. And you don't have to worry about disturbing me. Ever." Then, she added. "If it helps, Eris is going to come by tomorrow. I told him he can come to play with you."

She didn't know if that would happen, considering the verbal lashing that she gave him before kicking him out. Though she did hope he came by, because nothing was more important to her than Fin's happiness. And as for his safety, she was there to protect him.

He instantly brightened. "Really?"

Smiling, she nodded. He squealed before burying himself in the pillows, smiling at her.

She just hoped Eris would not leave Velaris without meeting Fin.

•○🌑○•

Part 5

Taglist: @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @nightless @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @cult-of-enji-todoroki @moonlwghts @laurenzitaa @wallacewillow0773638 @12358

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cordeliawhohung · 2 months

Text

When Your Blood Meets Mine - Part 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part twelve of "soft spot"

taglist

it's scary.

warnings: anxiety, talk/thoughts of abortion, medical talk,

wc: 5.9k

You would have given anything in the world to have your mom hold you.

You wished she was just a simple phone call away and not buried in a rotting grave out of your reach. You wished you could hear her voice, hear her tell you that it was all going to be okay, that you would survive this too just like you had everything else. But she was long gone. Nothing more than drying bones in a coffin. The only comfort you would receive from her would be whatever your memory held, which at that point wasn’t much. Fond memories of her had decayed just as much as she had.

So you were alone, which was such a strange feeling because it had been such a long time since you felt so isolated from everyone else. Even the apartment didn’t seem as welcoming as usual. It was as if the walls knew you shouldn’t have been there, panicking in silence as pure anxiety rattled your chest, but you couldn’t go back to work. The idea of facing Simon while you harbored a secret like that made your stomach twist so violently you felt queasy. That sickness festering in you had been no illness at all, but a child.

Simon’s child.

It wasn’t supposed to be possible. Simon’s work was important and demanding, and both of you were in agreement that having a kid wasn’t the right thing to do at that stage in your lives. He would leave for weeks, or even months at a time for missions, and he made it clear he would never want to leave you alone with a child. You had been on birth control for the last few years because of it and of course, of course, it failed. But it made everything else make sense. Your pregnancy explained all of the symptoms you had confused with the same sickness your mother had. Your achy, tender breasts were not sore just from the fat necrosis, but because of the hormone changes. The complete fatigue and brain fog that ravaged your body wasn’t from some cancer eating away at you, but the child growing inside of you.

Your anxiety began to get the better of you, and before it was able to choke you, you wandered out of the entryway and into the living room where you collapsed on the couch with your face in your hands. There was no time for you to think about all the signs you had missed the last few weeks because you only had a few hours until Simon would be home. You were going to have to tell him, but you had no idea how. Simply admitting it didn’t feel right, but it didn’t feel like a cause for celebration, either. Neither of you had ever talked about children, save for the conversation about how that time in your lives wasn’t a good time to have them. Would he want you to get rid of it? Should you get rid of it? After everything you had been through, would you truly be stable enough to take care of a kid? Or would your ever burning anger eventually turn you into the same monster your father had become?

No. No, you wouldn’t make a good mother at all.

Just as your despair began to manifest in wet streaks along your face, an innocent chirp caught your attention. Pulling your hands from your face, you were met by Boo’s empty and innocent expression as he stared up at you from the floor with large, yellow eyes. Despite your tears, you did your best to muster a smile as you patted your lap, inviting him up on the couch with you. Without hesitation he jumped up and made himself comfortable at your side. His purring was loud and crackly, and as he leaned against you he reached a small, deformed paw toward you where he rested on your stomach.

“You little jerk,” you said with a trembling lip and a breathy laugh. “You knew all this time and didn’t tell me.”

Completely unaware of your emotional turmoil, all he did was coo in response as if to confirm your suspicions before he snuggled even closer and closed his eyes. It was all so innocent and pure that for a single, fleeting moment, things almost felt like they were going to be okay. After all, surely there was nothing worse than being trapped in a basement.

But your absence didn’t go unnoticed for long. What turned into an appointment that was supposed to take an hour or two quickly turned into half the day, and then some. For a while, Simon had thought nothing of it until he wandered into the front office to file paperwork only to realize his favorite secretary wasn’t at her desk. The plaque that read the name Riley sat on an abandoned station, and as he put his papers in your basket, he realized your computer was shut down. Not only that, but the tower was cold to the touch.

You had never returned from your appointment.

Unwelcome thoughts clouded his skull as he marched out of the room and towards his own office. Earlier that morning you had done your best to insist that you were fine despite your trepidation, that you didn’t need him to come with you. He was foolish enough to believe you. You had acted so unlike yourself the entire time leading up to your appointment. Always anxious and jumpy with hands that refused to leave the ache in your side alone. And now you were gone, which wasn’t a good sign. He should have known better. Should have convinced you to let him come with you because he should have been there to support you even if you claimed the visit was quick and simple.

As the door to his office closed behind him, the idea that he was wrong about those lumps being fat necrosis overwhelmed his mind. He wasn’t a fucking doctor, he only told you about it because it made sense at the time and he wanted to ease your mind, to normalize it, to not make you feel like a spectacle. But the fear that it was something more, that something was wrong, gave him an uneasy feeling in his stomach that he hadn’t felt since he yanked Bukin off of you all those years ago.

Simon didn’t even bother to sit at his desk before he yanked his phone free from his pocket. Within moments both your name and number illuminated his screen and there was no hesitation in calling you. The line rang for only a few moments before your hoarse voice greeted him on the other side.

“Hello?”

“Doin’ alright, love?”

There was no point in beating around the bush. Simon was worried, terribly so, and it almost felt silly. It wasn’t as if you had vanished off of the face of the earth or anything, but there was this gut feeling that ravaged his senses, rendering him unable to do anything except panic.

“I’m fine, Simon,” you said with a humorous giggle. But there was something else to your tone. A tiredness that not even your little laugh could cover. Not exactly what he would consider fine.

“You had me worried when I couldn’t find you in the office,” he admitted. “Are you still at the doctors?”

“No, I uh, I went home,” you admitted. “They did a biopsy in the office so I’m feeling a little sore. Thought it was a good idea to take the rest of the day off.”

Simon hummed, half in agreement and half in thought. “What did the doctor say?”

“She thinks you’re right. Just fat necrosis. She just did the biopsy to be safe, but she’s confident it’ll come back fine, so…”

So that was it. Everything was alright, except somehow it wasn’t. There was something about the tone of your voice that was off. It reminded him of all the other times he tried to draw information out of you, yet you hesitated too much to fully get it out. You weren’t lying, and he knew that, but there was something else you hid from him, something he wasn’t sure he could get you to admit over the phone.

There wasn’t much left to say besides a quick I love you and a goodbye, and yet when the line went silent Simon couldn’t say that the achy feeling in his stomach was remedied. Between your tone and your lack of communication throughout the day, something was deeply wrong. Something that he couldn’t fix while he was on base.

Work could wait. He needed to get home to you.

Soon after he shoved his phone into his pocket, Simon swung open the door to his office only to be met by the confused and surprised face of Johnny. His arm was half raised as if he had been ready to knock on the door, but he awkwardly lowered it as Simon stared at him in the doorway.

“You read minds now?” he asked humorously.

“Always could,” Simon quipped.

Really, he didn’t have time for pleasantries or conversation, even if it was with Johnny. Sure, it wouldn’t kill him, but the only thing that consumed his mind was getting back to you. You needed him and he knew that, even if you refused to admit it over the phone, and he didn’t want to waste any time.

“Can I talk to you about something?” Johnny then asked.

“Now’s not a good time,” Simon excused.

Confused at his lieutenant's quick response, a look of concern overwhelmed Johnny’s face. “Everything alright?” he questioned as he stepped to the side, giving Simon enough room to fully exit his office and shut the door behind him.

“Dunno,” he replied, “tryin’ to figure that out.”

“Is it Spook?”

Simon shouldn’t have been so surprised that the man was able to figure out what ailed him so quickly. After years of working with one another, they had grown close enough to know what made one another tick, and you were Simon’s reason for everything. For fighting, for coming home, for breaking a man’s arm. It wasn’t a secret anymore, but a well known fact Johnny could sniff out in an instance.

“She’s fine, I think,” Simon excused. “Just gotta bad feeling ‘bout somethin’ that I’d like to check out.”

Sallow. That was Johnny’s immediate thought. The bastard had been slithering around base with poisonous intent nearly unchecked for the last week, which was his whole reason for seeking out Simon in the first place. But if something was worrying him this much to the point where the man would leave work early, perhaps it was best he not add fuel to the already growing fire. He just hoped that he was wrong.

“Go take care of her,” Johnny said as he nodded down the hallway. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Good man,” Simon said blankly.

Johnny stayed standing in front of Simon’s office as he watched his hulking frame vanish past the corner. Whatever was going on, he knew it wasn’t good. Really, he wouldn’t be surprised if he heard about Sallow either resigning or being dishonorably discharged within the next hour, but whatever happened, he just hoped you were alright. But it was a foolish thing to worry about. He had seen what Simon was willing and able to go through if it meant ensuring your safety. Johnny knew he had nothing to worry about.

After your phone call with Simon, you weren’t able to sit still. Idle hands left you with a pang of panic in your chest, and instead of sitting on the couch to let it fester, you cleaned nearly every inch of the apartment. Despite the throbbing pain in your boob, dishes got washed, countertops were wiped down, and you nearly started a deep clean of the bathroom until you thought about the chemicals. Should you expose yourself to that stuff while you're pregnant? Certainly it wouldn’t be good for the baby. Would it even matter? Surely a few chemicals wouldn’t have hurt the baby if you decided to get an abortion anyway. Fuck, how terrible of a thought was that?

The only thing that was able to stop your restless hands was the sound of a key turning the lock at the front door. Leaving the myriad of cleaning supplies on the bathroom counter, you dashed out of the room and greeted Simon in the entryway before he even had time to shut and lock the door behind him. He didn’t do much to hide the confusion on his face as he removed his mask and stowed it in his pocket.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked as he approached you like a skittish cat.

Warmth flooded through you as his fingers grazed your arm, and you realized just how much you craved his touch and yearned to be held. Your body moved on its own accord and you wrapped your arms around your husband and buried your face into his chest. Your gesture was not at all unwelcome, yet seemed to only confuse him further. Still, his arms embraced you tightly and he kissed the top of your head with a deep breath.

“A little sore,” you finally replied.

“Makes sense,” he hummed.

Silence followed. Your secret began to decompose so quickly you were certain Simon would be able to sniff it out before your mouth would admit it. Maybe that was for the best. His arms were so warm and safe, and you were certain that if you tried to look him in the eyes to tell him the truth you’d turn into dust. But he could feel the hesitation weighing your body down, and a sob nearly escaped you when he squeezed you closer.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked, voice soft but still rumbly in his chest.

All it took was that one question to get the waterworks started, and you felt an odd shame about how your tears soaked into the fabric of his shirt. Even after everything you had gone through, even after the basement, the orchard, everything, the scariest thing to you was still talking. It was sharing the darkest parts of you that you attempted to smother with as much kindness as you could muster, or keeping your grief chained so tightly that the only proof it existed was the rattling of its shackles.

But this secret was no such dark thing. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion where he’d sweep you off your feet into a kiss and you would giggle like you didn’t have a care in the world. At least, that’s what the movies would have you believe. So then why did you feel so scared?

“I’m pregnant.”

Your confession echoed throughout Simon’s body; you could feel it in the way the muscles in his back tensed and the movement of his chest ceased. His arms loosened around you so that he could get a better look at your tear stained face, and you almost broke when his eyes met yours. A storm of emotions swirled in his eyes so fiercely you were unable to tell exactly what he felt, but there wasn’t anger. There wasn’t anger, and you knew there never would be, and yet you still felt relieved.

“I don’t know why I didn’t realize it myself,” you said, voice trembling from the influx of conflicting emotions. “As soon as the doctor told me it made so much sense. Fat necrosis isn’t supposed to hurt but with the changes of hormones everything was sore and that’s why I’ve been so tired. I attributed my missed period to stress and, you know, I was on birth control so I never even would have imagined that… I’m- I’m sorry. I know that- I know we talked about how kids aren’t a good idea for us and I don’t want to ruin work for you and- and I’m rambling, Simon please shut me up.”

So he did. Your husband shut you up in the only way he knew how: smothering you with as much love as he could. His hands found your cheeks where he wiped your tears with his thumbs before he kissed the top of your head once more. You rested your hands over his to just hold him there, to feel him. It was so soft, and yet despite everything he still hadn’t spoken.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated as your fingers curled into his.

“Don’t be sorry,” he mumbled against your hairline.

“But I don’t want to ruin everything.”

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

Doing as he asked, you tilted your head to look at him as he pulled his lips away from your head. His eyes were still impossible to read, and his face refused to reveal any emotion, positive or otherwise. It was a little unfair of you to expect that he’d have a set reaction other than shock, though. This was quite literally life changing for the both of you, so Simon was bound to be left at least a little speechless. Still, it was so unlike him to be at a loss for words. To not have an answer.

“You’re not ruinin’ anything. We’re in this together, yeah? We’ll figure somethin’ out,” he said as he continued to cradle your face.

“I just- I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if we should keep it, or… or if…”

A cry rattled your body before you were able to finish your sentence, and Simon gently shushed you before he enveloped you in his arms again. Somehow the two of you ended up on the couch, which was something you were grateful for as you doubted you’d be able to stand upright any longer with the emotions rendering your mind virtually useless. Simon sat you in his lap where he cradled you in his arms, offering you comfort as you sobbed for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually, the thoughts in your mind waned from a suffocating storm to a dull buzz, and your body no longer shook with your sniffing. As if on cue, a tiny meow demanded your attention, and you felt a weight appear in your lap. A furry mess of black and white made its home in the comfort of your presence as Boo began to purr. Simon hummed as he reached to scratch behind the furrball’s ears, causing his purring to intensify while he attempted to rub his face against his fingers.

“He’s here to help,” Simon chuckled.

“He’s a prick,” you retorted, only half serious. “He’s known this whole time and didn’t tell me.”

As if to prove your point, Boo moved away from Simon’s hand in order to lovingly bash his head against your stomach. Giggling, you placed your hand on top of him as he nuzzled closer to you. Even with the little ray of sunshine in your lap, there was nothing that sweet cat could do that would completely rid you of that twisting feeling in your gut.

“How far along?” Simon then asked.

You shrugged. “Hard to tell from a urine test alone, but if I had to guess at least six weeks. Maybe more. I wasn’t exactly doing a great job at keeping track,” you chuckled. “But the doctor wants me back next week for an ultrasound. That’ll give us a better idea about our… well, options.”

Simon stayed silent but nodded in understanding at your explanation. As if he could feel your mind begin to wander, Boo cooed at you to grab your attention, and he stretched his arms up towards your chest as if demanding a hug. Once again you chuckled as you gave him a few pats, but it didn’t make swallowing the lump in your throat any easier.

“Do you want to keep it?” you asked.

Silence.

“I’d never make you do somethin’ you didn’t wanna do,” he replied.

It wasn’t a proper answer, and you wanted to grab him and shake him around, demand that he give you a yes or no. But maybe he didn’t even know the answer to your question. You just hated waiting around when you quite literally had something growing inside of you that demanded your attention. Something that demanded instant answers and decisions. But that wasn’t how things worked.

“We don’t have to decide anythin’ now,” Simon said as if he had read your mind. “We can wait until next week when we see your doctor. We’ll figure it out.”

Perhaps it was for the best that he left your question unanswered, because you weren’t sure you could bear to hear it, no matter what it was. No would mean he would put his work before truly starting a life with you. Sure, you didn’t think you were ready to be a mother, but no one could ever be truly ready for something like that. But yes? Yes would mean that he loved you enough to throw everything else away, and maybe that fact made you uneasy because you knew you didn’t deserve it.

But Simon was right. Nothing had to be decided right then and there. For the moment, you could just sit there in your husband’s lap and attempt to find an odd comfort in the fact that you had not gained your mother’s sickness.

In the days leading up to your appointment, Simon doted on you more than usual. At work he would find any excuse to visit your office, be it for paperwork or some other bullshit reason. His mask was as opaque as ever, but you always saw right through it. Worry clouded his eyes to the point you almost couldn't make out the earthy brown color, yet he refused to show it on the outside. You were certain someone was going to get suspicious about him visiting you so often, as no one besides his teammates even knew the two of you were married, but rumors never worried Simon.

At home he acted as if he had been surgically attached to your side. He always ensured you were fed and stayed on top of chores more than normal. In a way, it had gotten a little annoying because there was nothing for you to do around the apartment to distract yourself besides watch some terrible reality programme on the television. Not even your sweet and clueless cat would leave you alone, as he seemed hellbent on snuggling your stomach as much as possible.

During the night, when Simon thought you were asleep, you could feel his hands wander. As he laid curled behind you, his hand would sneak underneath your shirt not to grope you, but to feel you. His palm would rest flat against your stomach as if he could feel the life growing inside of you through your skin. He did this two times of which you could recall. The first night he did it was the day you had broken the news to him, and you had been so exhausted from crying you thought you had imagined it. The second time you were wide awake. You could sense the subtle yearning of his touch as he held your stomach and buried his face into the back of your neck, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt your pulse quicken.

On the day of the appointment, both you and Simon took the entire day off of work. Really, it didn’t make sense to miss a full day as the appointment would take no more than an hour, but you knew it was for the best. Your nerves were so fried that you couldn’t stop shaking when you tried to strip yourself of your clothes to shower that morning. Simon ended up having to help you, and you dragged him into the water with you, not wanting to be alone. Between the steamy water and the warmth of his hands, you were almost able to forget the pure fear that gripped your throat.

When you arrived at the clinic for your appointment, all the dread that you had attempted to keep at bay for the last week hit you all at once. From the droning atmosphere in the waiting room, to the dark and foreboding air in the ultrasound room, you swore you would faint. It was all so sterile. All you could think of was the scent of death you could never seem to get away from when you wandered the halls of the hospital when your mother was sick. You wanted to run away from all of it. Instead, you endured long enough to strip yourself half naked and lay on the bed with your stomach fully exposed so that the technician could glide the wand along your stomach.

Simon sat as close as humanly possible to you, and you were certain he would have tried to squeeze up there with you if he wasn’t a tall freak of nature. A dull grey hue shrouded his masked face in a cold shadow as his eyes focused on the ultrasound monitor on your right. You followed his gaze and you were met with nothing but a mess of fuzzy static as the technician searched through your body to find your uterus.

It was surreal when the image finally came into focus. Through the mess of static was a black void that the technician pointed out as being your womb, and floating amidst that darkness was what you could only describe as being a blip. A small little bean that was so tiny it hardly took up any space at all. It was odd to think that this small creature had caused you such emotional turmoil.

“There we are,” the technician smiled.

“It’s… so little,” you commented.

“It is,” she concurred before pressing a few buttons on the keyboard in front of her. “Just a little under two centimeters, to be exact.”

You stayed quiet as she glided the wand along your stomach again, and you tried not to make a face at the odd pressure and the sticky feeling of the gel. She clacked away at the buttons a few more times while humming to herself, completely relaxed, as you were certain this was a routine thing for her. It was difficult not to wiggle your feet or tap your hands on the bed underneath you as you thought to yourself. With an embryo that small, you were certain you could take a pill or two to abort it if that’s what you and Simon decided. It could all be over in a week and you could rest well knowing you hadn’t ruined your husband's career.

A quiet shame overwhelmed you for even thinking such a thing. You didn’t even know what you wanted, but thinking about getting rid of it made you feel worse than thinking about keeping it.

In an attempt to calm your mind, you tore your eyes away from the monitor and looked to Simon only to find his eyes glued to the screen. He sat as still as a statue, immovable and unwavering as he stared at that little glowing blip. He was… enamored. A quiet sound suddenly filled the room that you had confused for white noise at first until you could make out the clear, rapid yet steady rhythm of it. It was messy and warbly, but undeniably strong.

“And… there’s the heartbeat,” the technician confirmed.

Even in the darkness of the room you could clearly make out the way Simon’s eyes dilated. He soaked up every single image, every sound that took place inside of you with a sort of wonder you had only ever seen from him when he looked at you. No, he wasn’t just awestruck, he was in love. With you. With this child. And the only thing that was able to get him to look away from the screen was your longing touch as you tugged at the sleeve of his jumper. That wide eyed expression stuck with him as he automatically grabbed your hand in response, and you didn’t miss the way his mouth twitched underneath his mask.

“That’s our baby,” you whispered.

Our baby. Those words clung to Simon’s chest and made his heart jump. He quickly glanced at the monitor again before looking back at you with a gentle squeeze of your hand. Even with his mask you could see the faint crinkle of the corner of his eyes in what you knew was a loving smile. That was the moment you had finally gotten the answer to your question.

After everything that had happened to you, Simon had promised himself he would never carry around another picture, but he couldn’t get rid of the copy of the little blip the technician had given him at the end of your appointment. It was still impossible for him to fully comprehend just how small it was. It was hardly the size of his fingernails. None of it seemed real, and yet there he was, sitting on the edge of his desk in his office as he stared down at that picture.

All was well. Your biopsy had come back clear, there were no abnormalities with the baby; he was going to be a father. That was something he had never imagined himself being. Even when he was younger he was fully content on just being an uncle. Settling down wasn’t supposed to be for him. That life was meant for people better than him, with something waiting for them other than gore and violence. Perhaps he had grown soft.

A rushed and demanding knock rattled the door to Simon’s office and his eyes shot up to stare at the pale wood. He took the photo in his hands and laid it face down on his desk before he shifted his weight, wood creaking and groaning underneath him.

“Come in.”

The door swung open with such force it nearly tore off its hinges just to slam shut with a thunderous bang. Simon continued to sit on the edge of his desk unbothered as Johnny looked at him with wild blue eyes and a slightly reddened face. Judging by the way he could nearly hear the man’s teeth grind, he wasn’t impressed about something.

“You’re quitting?” he demanded.

“It’s called retiring, Johnny,” Simon corrected in a dry attempt at humor.

“But you’re leaving?”

“Not for another year at least,” Simon confirmed.

Instead of standing there to stare right at him, Johnny began to pace as if keeping still would be the death of him. “But why?”

“I’m gettin’ old,” Simon shrugged.

“Bullshit,” Johnny spat.

An uneasy silence stretched between the two men as Johnny waited for his answer and Simon contemplated if he should tell the truth or not. He never thought he would get as close to Johnny as he had. Hell, he had read him like an open book years ago when the two of you first started seeing one another. But there was something odd happening. There was a terribly strong rage that bubbled inside of his sergeant, and it didn’t take long for him to get answers as to why the man was so upset.

“Is it because of Sallow?” he asked.

Simon’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“The bastard’s been trying to make it seem like you’re pining after a married woman. Spook, your own damn wife. Almost seems like he’s trying to get you discharged based on infidelity charges,” Johnny explained.

That fact was so bizarre Simon nearly chuckled at the mere thought of it. He had known that the Trooper had some screws loose, but he didn’t expect him to truly act on it while he was staying on base. Let alone mess with you. Surely it was an issue, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about some FNG.

“Sallow’s got nothin’ to do with this,” Simon replied.

“Yeah?” Johnny challenged.

“That cunt couldn’t get me fired no matter how hard he tried. And certainly not for loving my fuckin’ wife.”

“Then why? Why did Price just tell me that you’re leaving?” Johnny asked. His tone was firm, but his eyes looked defeated. Like it would have been easier to know Simon was leaving because of something out of his control, and not something he would willingly do himself. “What’s going on?”

Simon’s fingers absentmindedly reached for the photo next to him before his mind had fully decided that’s what he wanted to do. And maybe it was a bad idea sharing the news so early. There were so many things that could go wrong, and maybe he had even acted irrationally by leaving the force as soon as he got the news, but it just felt right. He needed to do it. He needed to be vulnerable to the man who had helped save your life and care for you while he was locked away. He needed to learn that it was okay to stop fighting.

He carefully slid the photo off of his desk and flipped it over to give it a good glance before he held it out for Johnny. The man snatched it from his fingers and looked at it as if he expected a report or some sort of ransom note, but every muscle in his body froze the moment he made sense of the mess of black and white. All the pieces suddenly fit together in Johnny’s mind, and he couldn’t help but glance back and forth between Simon and the picture.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” Simon agreed.

“How far along?” Johnny asked. He gripped the photo with two hands as the fragility of the situation fully hit him.

“About nine weeks.”

His eyes finally settled to just look at Simon and Simon alone as he held the photo out for him to take back. “Congrats, mate.”

Simon hummed. “Just don’t go yappin’ about it. You’re the only one who knows.”

The photo was returned to the desk where it laid face up that time. It was almost as if Simon couldn’t take his eyes off of it. That if he did he would wake up and realize it was all just a dream.

“That’s… that’s gotta be a big change,” Johnny said. Whatever anger that had bubbled inside of him previously had dissipated at the truth and instead was placed with a shocked sort of awe.

“It’s fuckin’ terrifying,” Simon admitted.

A sympathetic smile crossed Johnny’s face at his vulnerability. “You’re gonna be a good dad, Simon.”

He chuckled something gruff and sour.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he sighed.

Whether he would be a good dad or not would remain to be seen. All his life he had only ever known fighting and fear; it was in his nature by that point to be nothing but a vile creature. Dead men weren’t supposed to have families and settle down, but you came along and muddled all of that up. You gave him something to fight for, to protect, to love; you gave him not only yourself but a child, too. He didn’t think he would be a good dad, but he knew he would be better than what he had, what you had, and that was more than enough for him.

hi (: just dropping by to say yes there is more soft spot, but i just wanted to point out the change in my taglist! okay ily bye

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soft spot #f!reader

152 notes · View notes

unholyhelbig · 3 months

Note

Would love some Kate Bishop angst

Title: Past Tense

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4027

Summary: Kate Bishop returns to her hometown unexpectedly following some bad news. She's shocked when she runs into you and struggles to grapple with her past choices.

Warnings: Funerals, hurt/comfort, drinking, work injury/ burns, spelling mistakes and grammar issues (I'm sure)

[A/n: Hello! Just a little disclaimer, this is probably going to be the last thing I can publish for the rest of the month. I've got a massive work project, I move this coming weekend, and it's my birthday at the end of the month so my time is quite limited. But things will pick up again next month]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Day had barely broken over the horizon, but the world around you was impossible to ignore. There had been snow the night before, something that everyone believed was too cold to be possible. A thin layer of ice had encrusted each car before the soft, powdery type had built up on windshields and culminated under tires.

Large, wet flakes swirled around you and despite the gloves that clung to your skin, they didn’t do much for the numbness in your fingers as you fumbled with the keys to the coffee shop. Moisture had wicked through the fabric, and you hastily took them off before flicking on the house lights.

It was just past 5am and the usual crowd of early risers were soon to arrive. You made quick work of starting all the machines, the cooling cases and the manual grinder. Your baker had been in earlier, filling the displays with various muffins, baked goods, and sweets. A smooth cinnamon scent filled the air and warmed you all over.

“Son of a bitch!” the muffled exclamation formed a smile against your lips.

MJ was bundled up in a sweatshirt, a flannel, and a heavy winter coat over that. Her boots were caked in dry snow. There was a deep red blush against her nose and her cheeks that accompanied her scowl.

“Language, there are children present.”

“We’re the same age!” Peter protested as he pulled himself through the back door. He was dressed in less layers but sported the same winter complexion. He shook the large flakes of snow from his sweater, mumbling “Son of a bitch.”

It was cold enough to warrant you closing the shop. Most of the schools and the businesses in town had called for a snow day, something that didn’t happen often in Connecticut. Frigid temperatures were expected. Below freezing was a way of life and the world didn’t stop craving warm coffee to thaw them out.

This fact was proven when you flipped the open sign and the typical crowd of tired eyes started to line up at the counter. Peter typically had too much energy, so MJ took up the register while her counterpart flitted around and filled the orders. Most were to-go.

You’d known these people for years. They’d come in with a habit that was unmatched by the weather and the any other obstacles thrown at them. Before you opened up ‘The Grindhouse’ you’d gone to high school with them.

Through all the proms, and the homecomings, and the house parties that left you vomiting in the yard amongst their parents’ flowerbeds. Since then, you’d grown up and couldn’t stomach more than a few shots or two glasses of wine, tops.

They’d grown up too, those who had stuck around town. They had families and businesses much like yours. You had homeroom with the accountant that had helped you hedge your money in the correct places, and you made the same bacon, egg, and cheese English muffin for the star football player that blew out his knee senior year.

“Welcome to Grindhouse,” you said distractedly at the sound of the bell above the door, working on clearing the fallen grounds from under the espresso machine. The rag was damp and the floor was already coated in little brown specs that needed to be swept up during a lull.

“What can I get started for you?” MJ asked in her usual cadence.

“Just a plain black coffee, please.”

Your body froze at the sound of the voice, hair falling into the gaze that you refused to lift. There was a strange mix of emotions in the pit of your stomach. That voice, with it’s familiar rasp was one you hadn’t heard for years. Nearly a decade. But it couldn’t be her, could it?

She’d left for New York right after high school. The last you heard, she’d become a doctor. An unrivaled cardiothoracic surgeon that flitted around the world wherever she was needed. There was no reason for her to be back in this small, freezing, end-of-the-earth town.

“That’ll be 2.25, we have cream and sugar on the far wall, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you.”

It was her. It was most definitely her. There was a crispness to her voice that you’d recognize anywhere. The last you remembered; it was whispered with a quickness that rivaled her hands. Her hands were everywhere. They were warm and calloused and gentle.

There was a sudden bubbling heat against the side of your hand. You hissed through your teeth and pulled back from the espresso machine. There was a large bubbling welt on your skin and a string of curses ready at your lips.

“Jesus, y/n are you alright?” Peter was at your side in a moment with a wet, clean cloth that he had run under cold water. “Do you need the burn kit?”

“No, no. I’ll be alright. Thanks Pete”

He was so attentive and clocked you with a worried stare but you reassured him with the squeeze of his shoulder with your good hand. If you were going to fly under the radar before, it would be impossible now.

You glanced over the counter, pressing the cloth even closer. Your suspicions had been confirmed by the tepid gray stare that met yours. Shock simmered behind Kate Bishops gaze, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand.

Suddenly, you felt dizzy. She looked a bit older in the face, more experienced. There was life there, a form of living that had lowered her shoulders and sealed her lips. The Kate you knew was a bumbling mess- but med school had effectively changed that.

“y/n,” She regarded you.

“Hi, Katie.”

That lopsided, sloppy grin was still the same. It reached her eyes and brightened them. You cradled your hand and reveled in the silence. Peter and MJ had frozen in place, flicking their eyes from you and then back to her.

“Want me to take a look at that hand?”

“What are you doing back in town?”

The two of you spoke at the same time and dissolved into nervous laughter. You shook your head. “I thought you were a surgeon?”

“I know how to treat a burn, y/n, don’t insult me.”

You often prided yourself on your strong will. If you had a weak one, it would have been impossible to build this coffee shop up from the rubble that it once was. Kate Bishop, Doctor Kate Bishop, had a way of melting your resolve.

Peter shoved the small plastic first aide kit into your hands and shoved you forward. There was no choice to hide your stumble other than a confident stride towards her. She led you to one of the tables that spanned the windows at the storefront. They were lined with frost, a biting cold fighting to get its way in.

Kate had about a half-inch on you and radiated a type of warmth that was unmatched. When she grabbed your sleeve and dragged you to a sitting position right across from her, you were practically putty in her hands.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you.” She spoke without looking at you, unlatching the kit and pulling on the blue latex gloves with practiced ease. She couldn’t see the look of shock on your face. “This place is beautiful. I remember when it was that pizza place.”

“Ah, pizzapocalypse. Who would have thought that a combination shooting range and Italian restaurant would fail?”

Kate chuckled and tenderly pulled your hand closer. Her touch was barely a whisper against your skin, strands of black hair falling into her eyes. She examined the angry red mark. It had already started to blister. The espresso machine was kept at unbelievable levels of heat.

She grabbed one of the wrapped applicators, using her teeth to tear away at the wax paper. Kate squeezed a small dollop of burn cream onto the end. You hated the cloudy clearness of the substance.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you too, you know?”

“Have you? This might sting a little bit. Do you want a countdown?”

“No, just do it I’m a brave- Fuck!” She’d already started, and you gave her a vicious glare. She shrugged with that infuriatingly perfect grin of hers. “I thought you were in New Zealand for some medical internship.”

“New Hampshire, actually. Not as exciting, I know. It was going well, but Eleanor died.”

There was a tightness to her voice. Typically, you looked away from anything involving wound care. If you were to get a shot, you’d stare at a small spot on the wall that interested you. Drawing blood was more of the same, it was just harder to ignore the needle in your arm.

Kate was working hard at the bandage in her hand and finally pulled it apart. Despite the frustration etched into her features, she applied it with a certain level of care. You didn’t’ say anything. Your hand was throbbing uncomfortably.

“She was old, we knew it was coming and pancreatic cancer, well, it’s a bitch by the end and Susan asked me to fly in for the funeral. How could I say no to that? Flying in for my mothers funeral when I was too busy working to witness her descent?”

“Katie,” You breathed out.

“That should be healed up in a few days. Make sure you change out the bandage.”

You couldn’t’ get a word in edgewise before she started to shove the contents of the case back into their proper places. The chair made a horrible scraping sound that you felt in your teeth. Kate grasped her coffee, colder than it was a few moments ago.

“Thank you for… this. I’m sure it’s delicious.” She had her hand on the door. Her quickness was unmatched. Both in and out of the OR, from what you had read. But she paused, looking at you for a moment. “I’m proud of you, y/n. This place is great. Really.”

Kate had vanished into the whiteness of the blistering day. You watched her navigate the snow with ease. Eleanor had died. How could you live in such a small town and not have heard about the woman’s passing?

The Bishop family was always a private bunch, and with Kate moving right after high school graduation, you hadn’t any reason to go past those wrought iron gates. Kate’s older sister would stop by for a hot drink once every other month or so, but you saw her coming from a mile away and selfishly hid in the back.

Eleanor had died.

There was a softness to her that you remembered fondly, a memory of Kate and you as children in the heat of summer. You’d been stung by a wasp and cried and cried until Eleanor rushed into the yard and scooped you into her arms.

Much like Kate had just done with her soft ministrations, she fixed you right up by applying a mix of warm water and baking soda. An old family remedy, she said. The venom had stopped screaming and the tears eventually stopped for both you and Kate.

Eleanor was a kind, if not private, woman. One that you thought of daily when you clocked the photo of High School Graduation on the dusty bookshelves in your living room. Your own mother hadn’t attended, but Eleanor was right there. She was right there.

“Who’s the girl?” MJ drawled out, leaning heavily on her hands, a goofy look on her face. Peter was next to her, doing the same, both eyebrows raised.

“Kate… She” You picked up the plastic first aide kit. The two of you had a habit of not sitting still and it was better to move to replace the supplies then let them sit out here. Besides, a customer could walk in at any moment. “We were engaged.”

Peter shot up “What?”

“It was a long time ago, it’s not important.”

“You were engaged, I think that’s important. How old are you?”

“First, rude, second; old enough. And really, guys it’s not a big deal. Both of us moved on. Life happened.”

They exchanged a look that, in the past, had never meant anything good. MJ had her arms crossed over her chest and Peter leaned heavily on a broom he had grabbed, hugging it lose to his chest. You rolled your eyes, attempting to ignore them both was impossible in a place this retrospectively small.

“I don’t know, boss. The way she was looking at you… maybe neither of you really moved on.”

“I write your paychecks; you understand that right?” You turned to face them. “Kate and I are done. We have been for a long time. She made that very clear when she gave the ring back and I refuse to push the matter.”

It was collecting dust on your bookshelf next to the photo of your graduation. It was a small emerald, green box that you hadn’t opened since you resituated the diamond ring. It had been stupid to propose, a last-ditch effort to get Kate to stay. She’d said yes. And then she said no.

The baker’s old Subaru wouldn’t start because of the bitter cold. It sounded like an old wife’s tale that made you chuckle to yourself while reading the text that popped across your screen.

Before you had hired him for the long nights, you’d done the baking yourself and it wasn’t a horrible chore. You’d just have to down some caffeine and slam it out; trays filled with mini cakes, with quiches, donuts and cheese tarts. It was like a methodical science project with the bonus of eating the food that didn’t look edible.

It was midnight by the time you’d pulled the first couple trays from the large industrial oven and exhaustion was starting to bay its head. You weighed the option of going home and just spreading out the pastries in the case.

All thoughts of sleep left your mind when a rapid banging filled the store. The front glass doors were being tugged upon. And while you were more than willing to die in this coffee shop, being robbed was not the way you wanted to go. There was less than three hundred dollars in the register.

You grasped at the broom, your hands covered in flower and caked on the bandage that was applied earlier. Another round of bangs as you tried to stay low and reach for the cordless phone. There was a silhouette outlined by the gray white of the snow.

Doctor Kate Bishop.

She’d given up on her breaking and entering and pressed her forehead against the glass, her breath fogging it up. It was hard to tell, but you were sure her eyes were clenched shut. There was a brown paper bag in one hand that looked suspiciously like a large bottle of alcohol.

Your grip was tight on the broom, even as you felt confident, and a little sad, about opening the door. Kate fell forward and a blast of cold enveloped you. She made a small noise at the back of her throat, regaining her posture.

“Were you going to sweep me to death?” Kate asked, “I brought whiskey.”

“Here I thought you weren’t going to come back here with the way you ran out earlier, and now you arrive with gifts?”

It was a low blow, but she had shrugged her shoulders with her goofy grin and snow in her messy hair. “Come drink with me, just for a little bit in our old spot. Don’t make me play the dead mom card.”

Saying no to Kate had always been hard for you. It had been hard when you were children and she dared you to jump from high places, always stopping you by the collar of your shirt before either of you got hurt. And it was especially hard to say no to Kate in your teens when she would kiss hot trails against your throat, marking them with bruises. Not that you were rushing to deny her.

“Really?” You asked, “Aren’t we a little old to be caught sneaking booze in the gym?”

Both of you knew for a fact that the side doors leading into the school would always be open. There were no alarms, or flood lights, because it was a small town and nothing bad ever happens in a small town.

She jutted out her bottom lip into a pout “Y/n, my mom died.”

“Okay, alright. Let me lock up.”

Kate stayed quiet on the three-block walk to the school. It was shrouded in darkness, an inky black despite the swirling gray of the night sky. Your high school had been the largest in the county; two floors filled with classrooms. You’d stuck to the same ones and Kate was the life of the party wherever she went, the bright spot in an otherwise dingy room.

The bottle of alcohol dangled by her side as your footfalls crunched over ice and an ugly brown slush of snow. It felt normal, almost, walking with her. Being with her. Staying in town was a brave choice after being dumped and equivocally left at the alter. You had powered through the looks and the whispered accusations. But some part of you was relieved she’d chosen this interaction to take place in the middle of the night.

When you’d gotten to the double doors of the large gymnasium, Kate’s boot slipped on a particularly nasty spot of ice. Instinctively you grasped her arm and righted her. She thanked you silently before pushing into the warmth of the space. The motion censor lights flicked on and you squinted against them.

“They built a new one, you know? A gym. I think they still use this for craft fairs. Fundraisers. But all the big stuff is off site in this state-of-the-art center.”

Kate blew out a breath, shaking her head. “Remember when Tommy Shepard broke your nose with a basketball?”

“Yeah, I do. I also remember sneezing right after and spraying him in blood. Everyone else was grossed out except for you.”

Kate dropped onto the large eagle in the center of the floor. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, and the bottle was idling between them. You let out a small groan as you joined her. Neither of you had ever been bold enough to inebriate yourselves in the crest. Instead, you’d hide behind the fold-out bleachers that were pushed against the walls, but this would do.

“That stupid EMT wouldn’t let me get on the ambulance with you.” The seal on the bottle cracked viciously, much like your nose, as she unscrewed the cap.

“And I told you I didn’t need to go the hospital. I think I was a liability, though.”

Kate laughed, taking a deep gulp from the bottle. It hit the back of her throat and she hissed in response before thrusting the whiskey your way. You took a smaller sip, let it coat your tongue and burn your stomach.

The mood had stilled, and she took another swallow before setting the bottle between the both of you like a vice or a buffer. You couldn’t decide what.

“Eleanor had very specific instructions in her will. She… shit, she planned her whole funeral out before she died in her morbid meticulousness. She picked white lilies, and a beautiful black casket. She already had a plot of land picked out in her family plot. Music picked out. A fucking guest list.”

You fought the urge to reach out and comfort her. So, you grabbed the bottle instead and gulped down a bigger heaping than before. The amber liquid was dipping down behind the black wrapper.

“The only thing she didn’t do was write her eulogy. No, she left that up to me as one last fuck you because that’s how she operates. She didn’t’ ask Susan to write it, or my dad. She asked me because I’m the one that left home. I’m the one that left her.”

The worst thing you could do was agree with Kate Bishops dead mother. And you didn’t, really. You’d always been happy for Kate. This town was too small for her and the lives that she saved were plentiful. But some selfish part of you understood where Eleanor was coming from.

You were possibly the worst person she could go to with this issue and by the frown on her face, she knew it too. For the longest time, you were there for each other. And if Kate had called out of the blue and asked you to go to New Zealand or New Hampshire, or whatever; you would go.

She’d do the same, you were sure. One call, one letter and she’d be here. But neither of you were brave enough to reach out and heal the wound that festered between you. You pulled your knees up to your chest, rested your chin against them with a quiet breath.

“Maybe you don’t need to write anything. Maybe you can just… say how you feel.”

“Yes, because that has worked out so well for me in the past.”

“Fair point, but she was your mother, not a fling. Even if you don’t have a script planned out, it’s worth just feeling the moment. No matter how shitty that moment is.”

Kate inhaled and held that breath in her chest for a few seconds before pushing it out. Her eyes searched you in a probing way that made your skin prickle. Blush started to claw its way up your throat. You’d blame that on the alcohol, you always were a light weight and it showed in your complexion.

“Is that what you think you were?” her voice was a low and raspy whisper “a fling?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You never say anything you don’t mean. All you’ve ever done is calculated and well thought out. You’ve always had a plan.” She looked down at the frayed edges of her jeans, playing with the strings to avoid looking at you. “You were my everything.”

Your voice was a quiet murmur. “Katie,”

She reached out, her warm hand wrapped around your wrist in a tender display of affection. Her eyes met yours and it was the longest the two of you had stared at one another without breaking eye contact. Your stomach was a pit of nerves and heat.

“That scared me when we were young. It fucking scared me out of my mind how content I was with you. I was ready to risk everything, to settle down in a small house and wake up every single morning next to you.” She drew in a sharp and shuddering breath “But we were young, and I hadn’t lived life and that scared me even more.”

“I know, Kate, I know. I shouldn’t have proposed, and I certainly shouldn’t have put either of us in that position. You were right to turn me down. You were right to move on and fight for the future that you deserve.”

Kate sniffed, using her free hand to wipe away the few crystalline tears that dripped across her cheeks. You found yourself pulling her close, letting her sob into the crook of your neck as you held her, your arm wrapped around her center to stabilize her.

Things were boiling over and the tension that had been weighing on her shoulders since she’d first shown up in town started to slowly drain. She missed her mother, she missed you, and that wasn’t something you were willing to process on the crest of the school’s gymnasium.

Kate’s fingers were curled into the fabric of your shirt, and eventually, she settled. Her nose was cold against your pulse point and the bottle of whiskey had been long forgotten. As self-centered as it was, you wished you could hold her forever. Feel her touch on yours for something other than a reminisced sadness.

“If you asked again,” Kate mumbled into the collar of your shirt “If you asked me again, I would say yes.”

“I know, Katie. I know.”

#Kate Bishop #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate Bishop x y/n #Kate Bishop x you #Kate bishop x reader #Hawkeye #Hawkeye fanfiction #Marvel #Marvel Fanfiction #hurt/comfort #Ask #I promise Kate Bishop actually has a sister #Susan Bishop

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putellas14 · 11 months

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It Was Only a Matter of Time, ficlet 2

"Babe!" you yelled, knocking on the bathroom door. "Are you almost ready?" Alexia and Leila had been in the bathroom for over an hour. All the girls were impatiently waiting in the living room to leave. Lola Indigo was having a private party and had invited them all to come.

"Just a sec!" Leila called out. She opened the door just enough to come out and shut it behind her. "Remember to breathe," she whispered.

"Excuse -" The bathroom door opened and Alexia stepped out. "Holy shit," you whispered.

"Breathe," Leila reminded you. She patted your shoulder and walked down the hall, yelling, "Chicas, vamonos! They're going to be a while."

"I -" you tried. "Uh. Shit." Alexia was wearing two tiny strips of black velvet connected with crisscrossing strings over her abs. Her hair was pushed back over her shoulders, her eyes deeply lined with thick lashes, her lips a deep peach. "Oh my god."

"Damn, baby you look good," Alexia said, running a hand down your side. You had chosen simple black slacks and an emerald blazer over a lace crop top that barely covered enough to be legal. She leaned up to kiss the corner of your lips. "I assume you like my outfit as well?"

You nodded vigorously, still barely breathing. You lifted your finger, turning it in a circle, because you needed to bring more pain on yourself. Lifting Alexia's arm over her head, she turned in a slow circle so you could see the full outfit. You should've taken a breath before asking to see the back. There was even less in the back than the front.

"Alexia," you whined. "You look so beautiful."

"Yeah?" she asked, suddenly shy.

"My reaction didn't give it away?" you asked, smiling. Wrapping an arm around her waist, you pulled her close. "Can I just take a few photos before we go?" She nodded, giving you a small kiss, transferring some of the lipstick to your lips. You took way too many photos, loving the ones where she finally cracked a smile and laughed at your stupid jokes. It would be hours before you saw your real favorite though, a smoldering look thrown over her shoulder at you just moments before she'd laughed at herself for trying to look sexy.

Unable to help yourself, you pushed her flat against the wall with your hips and pressed a hard kiss to her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. Anywhere but her lips, where she wanted you. When she tried to guide you towards her face, you grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door, telling her it was time to go. If you didn't go now, you'd never make it out the door.

Throughout the night, Alexia's hand kept finding its way under your blazer, her fingers running across your bare skin at the most inopportune times. Like when Lola asked you what you liked best about Ibiza and you had to bite your tongue. Or when Vir asked how your mom was doing because she hadn't seen her in so long and you had to hold back a whine.

It didn't get any better the later into the night it got and the more Alexia drank. You'd learned very quickly that your girlfriend was a forward, extremely flirty drunk. It was a side of her you'd never seen before. And you were absolutely in love with it. She tried more than once to cop a feel on the dance floor. It was only when Leila called her out that you turned her, pulled her back flush against you and let your own hands wander where they wanted to.

You knew the signs that she was getting too tired. And decided to call it a night around 4am. Holding her tightly to your side, you let the other girls know you were calling a car back if anyone was ready to go. Only Jenni and Ana decided to stay behind because Lola was busy flirting with Ana and Jenni didn't want to leave her alone.

In your room at the house, you laid Alexia down on the bed. Moving slowly, you unbuckled her heels and dropped them on the floor. Going across the hall, you wet a few washcloths and brought them back to gently wipe the makeup off her face. You rubbed the wet cloth gently across her face until all the color was gone and just Alexia was left. Bending towards her, you pressed a light kiss to her cheek. She put a hand on your arm as you began to stand.

Looking at her, you dropped the towels on the floor so you could gently caress her cheek. "I love you, Ale." She tugged you down to kiss you. Slowly. Gently. Her hand tangled in your bun. It was the sweetest kiss, in complete contrast to the hard mouths and quick hands of earlier. You liked both but this? This was what you wanted forever. Your sweet, amazing girlfriend kissing you softly goodnight after a day spent together.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #futfem imagine #futfem x reader #fcb femeni imagine

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blackopals-world · 11 months

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I Found Home

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)(part 5)(Part 7)(Part 8)

Part 6

Note: Time to feed my pet followers their serotonin

Lilia

"The Guardian"

When you become a parent you will finally learn that special ability to know what your baby needs from every sound they make.

Yuu however had trouble with with Grimm. When Grimm rarely cried but when he did it was always out of distress and only when he was afraid. It was more of a sharp yell that scared Yuu. Yuu knew it might be bad parenting but she would show him that crying is just another form of asking for help.

He was a self-soother as well and he'd put his thumb in his mouth and pull his hair when he needed to calm down.

Yuu encouraged his coping mechanisms and tried to learn all of Grimm's signs of distress. More and more he stopped panicking in favor of trying to talk once he calmed himself. It wasn't perfect of course because he went into hiding one night after wetting the bed and was too afraid to get help.

Mad crying and sad crying she knew the sound of. She knew when he was really in danger. But one night she heard something that set off every alarm in her head.

Grimm let out a loud striking scream and bolted from his bed and into Yuu's room. He frantically crawled over her and shook her awake.

"Monster! Monster!" He yelled.

Yuu was wide awake now as she pulled Grimm to her chest.

"It's okay. What did you see?" Yuu tried to ask calmly. If Grimm actually saw someone she had a hatchet under her bed and no remorse in using it.

"A monster! Outside!" Grimm pointed to the window.

Yuu knew that it probably wasn't a person considering they were on the second floor. Must have been a shadow. But she couldn't tell Grimm that. In a child's mind telling them that there was nothing to fear won't ease them. You have to think around them.

"Okay, mommy will check. Do you wanna stay here?" She asked rubbing his back.

Grimm had already curled himself against Yuu's body which meant putting him down now would be difficult.

"No."

Fair enough.

Yuu got up cradling Grimm in one arm as she walked back into his room.

Everything was in place. Yuu looked out the window to see a cloudy moonlight sky. It was probably the shadow of a cloud over the moon that spooked him.

When she bought the villa she really liked the floor-to-ceiling windows but now she could see some problems. But at least the windows didn't open and risk Grimm falling out.

"Hmm, I see the problem," Yuu said trying to get Grimm's attention "The clouds are in the way."

"The clouds?" Grimm asked.

"You see when the moon and stars are out they protect us from nighttime monsters. The stars make up these ancient guardians and heroes that watch over the world at night. They slay the monsters. But sometimes the monsters send out shadow clouds to block out the moon and stars." Yuu said gravely.

"Oh no!" Grimm held on tighter in fear.

"But don't worry. We can stop them."

"Really?" Grimm said with excitement.

"Yep, you must build up your army. " As she said this she picked up Grimm's favorite stuffed cat. "Your stuffed animals can help you. If you give them orders one of the star heroes can come down and use their bodies to fight off the monsters."

Grimm's eyes lit up as he scrambled out of his mom's arms and gathered his toys.

"Sir Batty, you are in charge. Nina will stay with me." Grimm said as he stood over his fluffy troops.

"Wish them luck." Yuu said as she picked up her son and tucked him right back in bed.

"Wait! Mama! Who's going to protect you?" Grimm asked.

"Oh, well maybe you can ask Sir Batty, to check on me tonight," Yuu said soothing Grimm back to sleep.

Grimm knew that if his Mama said he was safe he was safe. Even if she was being silly. But he was going to show her that he was brave this time. Even if the scary monster was here again, on the ceiling.

It had big red eyes and sharp teeth this time.

"Are you going to eat me?" Grimm asked watching the monster get closer.

"Why would I eat you? You're far too little." The monster responded.

"Are you going to eat my Mama? I'll let you eat me instead." Grimm held tighter to Nina. Maybe he toys will save him soon.

"I would never eat you or your Mama. She's my friend." The monster dropped down from the ceiling and sat at the edge of the bed "and I'm not a monster."

Grimm got a closer look and he saw that this person wasn't a monster, in fact he looked familiar. Like one of the heroes from Mama's storybook. She was telling the truth a hero did come, Sir Batty had come to life!

Almost immediately Grimm asked a million questions to the hero. Like how he slayed monsters or how he met Mama.

"I used to protect your Mom too." Sir Batty said proudly.

"So Mama knew you'd come," Grimm said in awe.

Suddenly a yowl came from outside and just as quickly Grimm took cover as he curled up against the bat(man?).

"Monster!" Grimm tugged at his hair as he grabbed at Batty's clothes.

"No, no. That's not a monster it's just a cat. You like cats don't you?" Batty comforted him by rubbing his back gently.

Batty picked Grimm up and opened the curtains.

"See, it's just a cute little kitty." He said softly as Grimm watched the black cat perch on the fence.

Grimm smiled as he waved at the cat. He loved cats.

Lilia was having a delightful time. He could hardly believe Yuu made something so cute. He missed holding a child in his arms. Babies are so soft and warm.

Yuu's child was so small, smaller than Silver was.

"Thirsty," Grimm mumbled drowsy.

Lilia continued to rub his back as he walked downstairs. Grimm's head rested on Lilia's shoulder as he started drifting off.

The fridge had bottles of enriched milk for toddlers. All Lilia needed to do was warm it up and put it in a sippy cup.

"Do not add anything"

Lilia could already hear her voice. He remembered getting kicked out of the kitchen constantly when she came over to cook. He missed her meat pies and pizzas.

Lilia waited for the milk to cool and poured it into a Halloween-themed bottle with bats and pumpkin print.

Gently he shook Grimm awake and sat down on the couch. Grimm weakly held the bottle and began to drink but his grip began to slip.

Lilia laughed as he helped hold one end of the cup up so Grimm could continue to drink. He made sure to be careful so Grimm didn't drink too much at once and kept upright enough that he could swallow easily.

It was like he had another baby.

Once the bottle was almost empty Grimm slumped over and went into a deep sleep. Lilia wiped milk off the mouth of the little one.

He could hardly believe Yuu brought something so wonderful into the world. No, he believed it. Every bit of it.

"The future?" She tiled her head to the side and hummed in thought for a moment. "Well I want a nice house. I want it to be in a place full of trees, old ones. I'm going to finish my book and officially become an author. I'm going to get married and have kids. 1 or 2 would be good. Hey! Why are you laughing? I don't care if it sounds childish, can't I dream?"

He wasn't laughing at her but she sounded so cute. She had stars in her eyes as she talked about her future life. Clearly, she had worked towards it.

There was a creak as footsteps came downstairs. Any words of alarm that Yuu had died in her throat as Lilia pressed a finger to his lips before pointing to Grimm who was snuggled up against him with his head in the crook of Lilia's neck.

Yuu quietly pulled back one of Grimm's stray curled locks before looking at Lilia with confusion. She wanted to ask him why he was there but realized that it didn't matter.

"I missed you." Was all she could say.

"I missed you too." Lilia kissed her forehead.

Grimm let out a soft whine.

"He's beautiful." Lilia was still mesmerized.

"Isn't he." Yuu joined in. "..oh, it's late."

"Never stopped you. We used to stay up all night together." Lilia purred pressing a kiss to Yuu's cheek.

"Not anymore. I'm on mommy time now. I'm up when he's up." Yuu teased.

"What about mommy and daddy time?" Lilia returned the favor.

Yuu smacked his arm.

"We need to put him to bed." Yuu sighed reaching to take Grimm from the fae.

"I don't wanna let go." Lilia backed away as he childishly pouted.

Yuu knew better than to push but an alternative needed to be found.

Grimm woke up in a strange place. Well not stang it was his Mama's room. He was sandwiched between Mommy and Sir Batty or the hero that took Sir Batty's body.

Grimm tugged on the human stuffed animal to see if he would turn back now in the daytime.

"No, no my child. We don't pull hair." The man said, "If you are awake how about you help Daddy make breakfast for Mommy."

Daddy? Grimm didn't know he had a Daddy.

"Okay, Daddy!" Grimm smiled as he reached out his arms to be picked up.

Tag List:

TagList:@kamisatoaiko@professionalreblogs@kai200x@lianreine@loivre @code-roevember @growingupnrealizing @ryxmix @blazestar0525 @botswanasvetlana @shrimpyfishyy @imasimpsowhat06 @nooneknows8976

@utaubara @springdrop-701 @ayachansan @otomyoli @savanaclaw1996 @who-mst @cloudy51 @siren-serenity @bontensbabygirl @queen-shiba @night-shadowblood-writes2 @colombia-chan @canubringmeacokepls @mikk-o @twistedcece @dreamlessnight @spritofthesea @angelicupiid@naroshinozaki

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #twst lilia #lilia twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland lilia

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weirdworldofwinnie · 8 months

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Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Two: Settling is Subjective

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: It's only the second day in Los Alamos and while your husband is trying on being part of the uniformed men, you track down the suspicious phone call and unfortunately end up with a tidbit of information that is upsetting.

Word Count: ~4,608

Warnings: Light smut (fingering), age gap, period stereotypical gender roles, mentions of infidelity, marital angst, and drunkenness

See previous for all disclaimers, this is NOT based completely on real life historical accuracy and is essentially fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer.

Part One here

Tag List: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple

Thanks to everyone who has liked so far. If you would like to be part of the tag list, drop a comment and I'll add you!

When you awoke from a deep slumber the next morning, the bright sunlight filtering in from the open curtained window was beaming you right in the eyeballs, forcing you to squint and shield your face before sitting up and seeing the empty wrinkled sheet space beside you indicating that Robert had already left early. You sighed, dragging yourself out of bed with a groan from vaginal soreness of last night's escapade and went across the hall to use the bathroom and clean up some, dressing and applying the usual makeup and brushing out your tangled hair, as well as clean out the bathtub. After a light breakfast in the kitchen consisting of two slices of buttered toast with jam and a glass of milk, you went back to the bedroom to pluck up the leftover discarded clothes and shoes still littering the floor. You put Robert's belt into the closet with his shoes and your heels, and took the rest to the bathroom along with the sheets you tugged off the bed, bringing it all into the bathroom sink to thoroughly scrub at the stains in the linens and the memory of last night was making you smile despite your misgivings.

You went out to clip the washed fabrics up onto the clothesline you had established yesterday in the yard and as your fingers fumbled with the wooden clothespins, the warm airy breeze was making the soaking wet fabrics spray a light mist into your face when you suddenly heard a sharp woman's voice behind you, startling your concentration.

"Well, don't you have the easiest job in the whole world."

You whipped around to see one of the scientist's wifes, her hair up in a bun and arms crossed defensively against her chest as she surveyed your laundry.

"May I help you?" you asked her, not pleased that she had just decided to walk right onto the property without permission or invitation. Was that going to be the norm around here, a complete lack of respect for privacy?

The woman shifted, narrowing her eyes briefly before glancing away and back to you.

"You know what I'm talking about," she said knowingly with unnecessary snippiness to her voice and you felt a frown creasing your forehead.

"No, I'm afraid I actually do not. Why are you here?"

She smiled, but it was really a grimace more than anything else with the way she bared her teeth.

"You're married to Dr. Robert fucking Oppenheimer," she stated and you blinked, stunned at her vulgarity.

"Excuse me? I am, indeed, but what is that to you?"

But she had already turned away and began walking out of the yard down the pathway and you shook your head, utterly perplexed and borderline insulted, but you figured it wasn't worth getting into a confrontational fight over when you weren't even sure what exactly her issue was. You hoped that this wasn't a sign that the welcoming nature of the other wives could somehow be diminishing, and you were at risk of bizarrely becoming an outsider among everybody else here in this pop-up town just because of Robert's higher status. You had expected to be respected for being Dr. Oppenheimer's wife at the very least, but you did not want to be seen as pompously prestigious to foster any sort of jealousy or spite, and more to find common ground in general with these other women for they were in the same proverbial ship here. If that lady had a bone to pick because of your husband, then that was her problem, not yours.

The next time you saw Robert was when you went on a self-guided tour of the town, taking in the army's quarters, main mess hall, many outbuildings, offices, and schoolhouse still in construction. You were walking towards the army offices when he came bursting out a door, leading the way of a small pack of men, including friend Isidor Rabi and General Groves himself. You bit back a smile at how dwarfed in size Robert appeared when compared to those taller, bulkier men and your eyebrows bolted upward in surprise upon seeing his own tightly conforming uniform. The other men started to file inside another building and you approached him with a quirked eyebrow.

"You enlisted?" you asked and he gave a vigorous nod.

"They think it would be prudent for all of us civilian men to join the Army efforts and I could be of such importance," he replied sincerely, but you saw through his posturing.

"Do you want to or is the General making you?"

He didn't answer and you guessed the latter as he glanced away and then settled back to you.

"Come here for a minute," he muttered, pulling you aside and whisking you in a quick movement inside the building and into a small empty office, and you started to speak in confusion, but he clapped a hand over your mouth, kicking the door closed behind him. You stared as he slowly lowered his palm and you whispered, feeling as though something were wrong.

"What is this about?"

Wordlessly, he traced a finger along the waistband of your skirt and raised his eyebrows flirtatiously, creasing his forehead with fine age lines.

"What do you think?" he murmured and you knew he meant his attire.

"I kind of find it rather handsome, I suppose," you answered with a smirk and smoothing down his front breast of the stiff dark mossy green fabric, catching your fingertips on the brass buttons and playfully tugging at the buckle around his waist. His eyes widened with a gleam and he yanked your skirt out towards him to thrust an arm down into your panties, anxious to feel you. Gasping, you clutched at his shoulders and went in to kiss him as he pressed a single finger to your slit, squirming past the moist fleshy opening and you gave a light moan of delight as he felt your clit.

"How are you so wet already?" he mumbled into your ear and you gave a breathy laugh, realizing how aroused you were indeed getting.

"Maybe there's just something about a uniformed man," you whispered back to his ear and he gave a fast kiss on your lips while probing in further, expanding his reach with two fingers and letting your fluids naturally lubricate his easy efforts in.

"Sir, we've got a head count of eighteen, nineteen once Dr. Oppenheimer joins us..."

You both froze at a man's voice just outside the door and your heart began to pick up pace in fear, as though what you and Robert were doing was illegally incriminating, even though he was only your husband after all, but if someone discovered you hiding out with the scientific director of the Manhattan Project in the process of giving you a handjob in the middle of a workday, that wouldn't be a good look of professionalism at all, especially if (God forbid) Groves found out about it. But Robert wasn't spooked too easily and he hit that sweet spot inside you, causing you to whimper like a puppy from the breaching orgasm, clinging onto his uniform as though your life depended on it.

"Shh..." He placed his free hand to your lips and your back arched with pleasure, relishing the feel of his fingers up in your walls.

"Rob-"

He cut you off, forcing the back of your head forward to press your face against his shoulder and you lightly bit into the uniform, preventing an embarrassing audible noise from alerting the entire building.

"That didn't take very long," he observed in a whisper as you wound down from the peaking high of the quick orgasm and gasped when close footsteps commenced right outside. Robert pulled his hand slick with your cum out and wiped it clean with a handkerchief from his pocket before quickly detaching from you and swinging the door wide open.

"Wait!" you hissed, snatching his coattails as he began to move out the door and he stopped, spinning around with intensity.

"Duty calls," he told you sternly and you shook your head, wetting your lips.

"No, I know that, but I wanted to ask about that phone call - if the phone call, if you-"

"It was taken care of," he replied crisply, not quite looking at you (giving a flash of skepticism and doubt) but then he put on a yearning glance that flickered darkly downward and that distracted you, triggering another ripple of arousal shooting through your core, proving the fact that your libido was in full force today. You hated to see Robert leave, but men were approaching and he exited to join them. You briskly hitched up your panties and skirt before taking a single calming breath and walking out as though nothing provocative had just occurred. The men were filing out into the road and getting in various militarized vehicles while Groves was barking to Robert about scouting out more acreage. You pretended to ignore them, making distance, but unfortunately there was one person who lagging behind long enough to take notice of you hurrying out the side door and that was Officer Nichols. You nodded politely and told him "good afternoon" but it was perhaps too falsely cheery because his eyes behind his round glasses narrowed and the smile he gave you was stretched in suspicion. You moved fast down the sidewalk, not daring a glance backwards, and made your way back home.

The rest of day passed slowly and you occupied yourself with finishing up organizing the house and shelving Robert's many books while trying not to feel the stifling housewife effect, but more so than that was you couldn't shake a nagging persistence related to that phone call and so, around five o'clock, you marched into the main office where the secretary gave you a look of recognition as she put down the phone.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Oppenheimer. Are you looking for your husband?"

Her tone made you almost want to cringe as you realized the fact that she was older than you, making you feel as though you probably looked less like a marital partner and more like a mistress.

"Actually, I was wondering about a phone call received sometime yesterday for said husband?"

The secretary pursed her lips and that micro action told you she knew about it.

"I'm afraid all phone calls going in and out are classified information that you do not have access to unless you are given override."

"Well, is there someone else I can talk to about this?"

"It would be unwise to involve anyone else besides me," she replied shortly and you felt a bit annoyed that she was taking this job of being "gatekeeper to Los Alamos" seriously, even though it was indeed her job. You bent over the desk, getting closer and clasping your hands calmly together, speaking with a pleading smile as you glanced to her own wedding ring.

"Please, as one wife to another, how about just a little disclosure between you and me? You must have overheard or took the call...?"

She seemed nervous and blinked a few times before shaking her head and you leaned back, disappointed.

"So how are you settling in? Is there anything I can get for you?" she suddenly asked in a change of tone and you sighed, realizing this was getting nowhere.

"I'm doing fine, thank you. I should start thinking about cooking up a meal for dinner in fact."

"Need a recipe? I swear by this brown sugar meatloaf," she said, raising her eyebrows knowingly as if giving you vital information.

"Oh, alright. Sure," you replied in surprise, even though you already knew how to cook meatloaf and did it many times before, but she grabbed a notepad, scribbling down something with a black ballpoint pen on the top slip of paper before handing it to you folded up in a creased square.

"Enjoy," she said dryly and you stepped away, feeling a bit confused, but you accepted it and tucked it into your purse, giving her a forced smile and walking away, wondering if you might have just been handed something that wasn't pertaining to meatloaf.

When you were in the secluded space of the bedroom at home, you took it out and unfolded it, the lined paper crinkling in your grasp as you read a hastily jotted message.

"Jean, I just can't get up and leave right now, you know that. Stay where you are and don't come looking, don't converse and write to anyone about me. I promise this will be only temporary. What? Yes, of course I still love and miss you, I do."

You crunched the note in your hands and without thinking much further about it, promptly burned it up in the bathroom trashcan with the flame from your cigarette lighter, letting it become mere ashes sprinkling the bottom. Kudos to that secretary with attentive ears and a keen memory, but the last you needed was someone finding out about this. God, was anyone else aware of what he said? Teary, you turned away, catching your upset reflection in the mirror and even the light layer of makeup couldn't cover your exhaustion and frustration, making you appear older than you felt.

"It was taken care of."

He had presumably called her this morning to tell her he missed her already. And he still loved her?

You didn't have a problem with him associating with Jean in a platonic sense if you happened to be back in Berkeley, but of course that was not what this was about. Robert was unfortunately turning out to be one of those men who just couldn't settle down and you supposed you shouldn't be too surprised given his pattern of womanizing, but it was much worse and serious in this location where stakes were very high, so like an unwanted wild rose growing out of proportion, this had to be nipped in the bud.

A couple hours later and after you had eaten dinner alone - a sloppy meal of macaroni and cheese with a full glass of red wine was the best you could muster - and you heard Robert walking to front door step outside, you went to aggressively pull it open, about to be utterly interrogative until you saw his oddly hurt expression, also taking in that his military uniform was gone and replaced with his usual suit and tie attire with a K-6 security clearance button pinned smartly to his gray blazer.

"What happened to your uniform?" you asked before anything else, skirting around the real problems.

"I returned it; I failed the physical requirements, and Isidor convinced me that I looked absurd and am better suited as myself," he replied, impatiently dismissive, and you shrugged nonchalantly.

"He's probably right. You are worth your weight as a scientist, not as a soldier."

"You stopped by the office today," he said, abruptly changing topic with an accusatory tone that you yourself had planned on using, and you tightened, clenching the doorknob stressfully.

"Who told you?"

"Nevermind that. Tell me, why did you speak to my secretary?"

You did not like feeling put on the spot, so you deflected and counter questioned him instead.

"You lied to me earlier about claiming it was taken care of, didn't you? I was right last night about who the phone call was from, wasn't I? You contacted her today when you know how risky it is for outside contacts, not to mention that we just arrived here yesterday. Are you out of your right mind?"

He gave a warning look with resignation and stepped into the house, gently pushing you off to the side. You followed him to the kitchen and took up the wine glass, swigging down the rest as he grimaced, glancing off to the dwindling bottle of uncorked wine next to the cheese encrusted mess you had left on the counter in the form of a dirty pot with the plate haphazardly resting in the sink.

"I see you made dinner for one," he observed and you poured out the rest of the wine into your glass, hovering by the table and taking numerous sips.

"Imagine that, I sincerely hope you weren't starving," you told him sarcastically and he scowled, reflexively reaching for a cigarette.

"I don't want to find out secondhand information from others, so I'd like to hear what happened today in the office and why you are acting like this," he said around the cigarette in his mouth and you snorted, almost amused.

"Oh, what does it matter?"

"It's my personal business, so yes, it matters very much."

Maybe it was the alcohol affecting your already soured mood, but you found yourself choking up on tears and angrily whisper-shouting at him, your voice all high pitched and shaky.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! She's not here, she won't ever be, and we are in a state of high security! You have to stop thinking about her, calling her, lying to me and-"

"This isn't as dramatic as you are making it," he interrupted placidly, but this only spurred you on.

"Oh, really?! I'm not the one violating security and calling a Communist ex-girlfriend from another state while on a classified government sanctioned project! You are the sole issue here, Robert!"

"Stop. Let's not fight," he ordered, grasping your arm and leading you away from the counter and the empty wine bottle.

"I have no desire to be unfaithful to you. Jean contacted me first and I just had to reassure her I was alright because she was worried; she has seen men likely from the FBI tailing her outside her apartment and she is justifiably concerned for her own safety and for mine being so far away."

You pushed aside the tiny piece of worry you had for her and bit back at him coldly.

"I see. Well, why don't you call up Katherine while you're at it and tell her you haven't vanished off the face of the earth because these women cannot bear a day not knowing your exact existence?"

Robert glanced down at his shoes, speaking bitterly.

"She would not want to hear from me."

"Because you wouldn't marry her unless she had a child of yours. Would you have a baby with Jean if given the chance?!"

He blinked, taking in your appearance like he'd just seen you for the first time.

"What is the matter with you tonight? This is not about procreation with anyone and why have you become so devoutly anti any political and ideological affiliations?"

You swallowed and licked your lips clean of the wine stains and refused to answer, but he knew you well enough to get an understanding of your silent expressions.

"This is not a matter of my ties to controversy, but about my feminine associations only, isn't it?"

"I, I just don't want any trouble," you admitted as you waved your hand still holding the glass and it slipped right out of your fingers, nosily crashing to the floor.

"Oh, fuck," you swore, stepping away from the splattered glass and sucking a breath in as Robert stood still, staring from the floor up to your flushed face.

"Perhaps I should lock up the liquor cabinet tonight if this is any indicator. How many drinks did you get into?" he asked scoldingly.

"Stop treating me as if I'm a fucking child," you spat out, taking one step back from him.

"I never said you were, but I'm well aware that Kitty has a similar problem when she gets upset; it accelerates already induced negative emotions and even worse so here due to the altitude, I believe it-"

"Don't you dare equate me to HER!" you practically shrieked, backing away into a chair as he came forth, concern and fright sparking in his eyes. You shook your head furiously, shaking up your perception of the slightly blurry kitchen and gulping air before your next verbal assault at him.

"God, you're such a mess, Robert! You just can't stop reminding me and how many more women are going to come out of the woodwork while we're living here?"

"I have cut my ties to all former affairs, you know that. I told you the day we became engaged, but Jean and Kitty are taking longer to rinse out of my personal contacts."

"Speaking of rinsing, I washed the sheets this morning and I need to bring them in, so excuse me," you declared, really needing fresh air more than anything at the moment, so you stumbled out the back door to retrieve such items from the clothesline. You wiped your eyes and took gulping breaths to calm your racing heartbeat and to get ahold of your emotions that were misfiring all at once... Maybe you had drank too much wine, you sure felt terribly psychologically unsteady. You fell down to your knees on the grass and put your aching head to the bundle of dry sheets and few clothes from yesterday, willing this to pass and wishing you had never gone to the office today and left everything as it was. Ignorance wasn't bliss, but at least it made information ignorable unlike knowledge which burned persistently in your brain until you threw water on the emotions stemming from the paining scorch. Maybe you were overreacting and too young, but Christ, being compared to his other women made it feel worse. There was no way to have a symbiotic relationship with him when he had them parasitically clinging on; you couldn't compete with a woman like Katherine, who was closer to Robert's age and unapproachable, while Jean was a known Communist who knew some of your friends. It all felt too... personal.

When you finally stood up once your head stopped pounding enough to come back inside, stepping around the broken glass and spilled bit of wine that you'd end up cleaning later, Robert had moved to the lounge and was smoking a cigarette while lying back on the sofa, his feet propped up on the coffee table. He gazed at you carefully and cautiously as you stopped in front of him and spoke businesslike, struggling to retain what was left of your composure.

"A woman came around this morning unannounced and you know what-what she told me?"

He stared through the haze of smoke, wearing soft curiosity as you took another deep breath.

"She... She told me I should consider myself to have the easiest job in the world and that is to be married to - and I quote - 'Dr. Robert fucking Oppenheimer'."

He had little reaction other than raised eyebrows in amusement and he lowered the cigarette, gesturing at you with it.

"Do you feel that way? Am I a good occupation for you?"

You scoffed, striding out of the room with the bundle of sheets and clothing in your arms.

"Not a chance after today," you called back over your shoulder, making your way to the bedroom. You tucked the sheets in, making the bed when the sound of an audible sigh from the doorway made you turn reluctantly.

"We can't go on like this, it hasn't even been a week and already we're fracturing our unity and trust. You aren't taking to Los Alamos very well," he said gently and you deflated in the truth, sinking down on the bed as he walked over to accompany you.

"No more phone calls," you instructed him firmly when he settled next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"No suspicious calls, I promise. You are beginning to sound a lot like Leslie Groves."

You sat up straighter and attempted to imitate the General's gruff voice, glaring at him forebodingly.

"Robert, you'll do what I tell you because this fucking important! Otherwise, I'll have to rip that phone right off its cord and jam it up your ass to stop you from jeopardizing national security."

"Yes, ma'am." He was taken aback by this threatening proclamation, yet smiled in good humor, but you then grew more somber and back to your normal voice.

"I'm just tired of feeling as though I am in a competition even being married. I tell you, if I hear any further word about certain past lovers, I will be confiscating every single cigarette you have."

His eyes widened and another smile tugged at his lips as he took your hand, placing it in his lap and rubbing circles into your faint blue veins.

"I would surely not last a full day if you did that to me."

"Then don't make me."

He leaned in and kissed you swiftly, his tongue brushing past your lips and finding its well worn way in, intertwining with your own still doused in the taste of wine. You pulled away and laid back on the bed with him falling down beside you a second later, body relaxing. The palm of his right hand found your stomach that he gently patted affectionately.

"Forgive the off topic inquiry, but do you think you'll end up bearing fruit one of our years here?" He spoke in equal parts trepidation and hushed anticipation.

"I don't know," you murmured, unhappy he was bringing this up.

"I can arrange for a medical assessment, we have some very best doctors on staff..."

You groaned softly, shutting your eyes to the ceiling.

"No... I don't want to officially find out that I could be rarely infertile in any capacity."

"We don't know that for certain; naturally you are biologically and physically healthy, but out of an abundance of caution, I was only thinking-"

"You are always thinking, too much to a fault in fact. If we are meant to have a baby, then it will happen in its own time. However, I am not racing for it to come into creation here of all places, though, and if that means we have to pump the brakes on our active intercourse, then so be it."

He smiled in some relief, leaning over and kissing you again, his fingers weaving into your hair affectionately.

"I'm in no hurry for such a distraction either and I trust your instincts over my own brain on this one," Robert whispered as he caressed your cheek and leaned back lazily to gaze fondly.

"As you should," you teased with a mutter, but you echoed his unspoken thoughts that were not in favor of becoming a father soon when there was too much on his mind with the work here. Worse, you couldn't help but privately wonder if he would even be adept at being a father... When you tested positive for pregnancy for the first time and disclosed the news to him, you remembered how his face flickered from surprise to guilt to hesitant joy. You had kept it only between him and the doctor, which turned out to be good because you ended losing the fetus anyway in less than three months. Robert hadn't been exactly upset, but you had because it catapulted into existential questions, but he and the physician had assured you were fine and there was still plenty of time. For now though, you decided, it was too early to try out the theory of parenthood.

The bed springs lightly creaked as Robert sat up and left, mentioning he wanted to get a drink and read one of his books quietly by himself for awhile before bed and you were left to lay in the growing darkness, contemplating over what the rest of this interesting first week could bring.

Thanks for reading and I appreciate the patience as I work on this story more ❤️

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