#he also tends to call me mama when he wants my attention and i’m like haha nooooooooooo little baby | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ahundredtimesover · 3 years

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Inevitable (01) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected sex but be safe please!)

Chapter Word count: 6.9k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: Couldn’t stop thinking about how Yang Jungwon’s role model is Jungkook and they have similar features (especially as kids) and the sweetest smiles! Hence, the little angel we have here. I hope you enjoy this first chapter! Also, you can message me if you want to be part of the taglist!

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You stare at the grocery list, eyes squinting to try to read the words you’d half-mindedly written down this morning.

Your boss convinced you to take Friday off when it slipped that Jungwon has been having separation anxiety lately, as he hasn’t spent time with his mother this whole winter break.

You’d been doing overtime - on weekdays and weekends - and your boss, a mother herself, knows that overworking would take its toll on you and your son, especially as a single parent. It’s why you’re here now, grocery shopping with the little one, something he enjoys doing with you, too.

Still, it’s just one day and it’s not really enough to compensate for all the other days you work your ass off at the company, but the pay is good and the people are kind; those have been enough for you to stay the past two years.

A smile forms on your face once you decipher the crooked words on the piece of paper you’re holding up. You can make out the word ‘banana’ right before ‘milk,’ ‘choc’ somewhere near ‘ice cream,’ and ‘bron’ just next to ‘cereal.’ Brown cereal? Did he mean cocoa pops?

Jungwon has improved his writing and vocabulary and you pat yourself on the back for the times you’d forced yourself awake during your Sunday rest time just so you could guide him on his workbook. You congratulate yourself for thinking of showing him flash cards while he scrubs himself in the makeshift tub during bath time. And you thank the heavens for your best friend Taehyung’s bright idea of setting up a blackboard on the wall on Jungwon’s side of the bed so he can doodle until he falls asleep.

“Am I not the best uncle, muffin?” Taehyung had asked the little one then, who always knew what to answer.

“You and uncle Joonie are the best,” Jungwon had said.

Your kid is a ball of fluff, you’d almost think it’s genetic because you definitely are not one, but the other half of him is.

You brush away that thought before your chest begins to tighten. You choose to think that Tae and your older brother Namjoon, whom Jungwon spends the most time with apart from you, are true softies and he’d definitely gotten it from them.

You’re still smiling, insides warming enough to brave through the January cold until you realize that you’re no longer hearing your son’s buzzing sound that he does when he plays with his airplane. For all his softness, he does give you a heart attack every once in a while because of his tendency to scurry somewhere that piques his interest. It was probably the aisle that had those chocolates he wanted so you pick up your basket and rush to the one right next to where you are.

Your heart drops to the floor at the sight of your son standing in front of a man who’s crouching down, tinkering with the toy. It probably disassembled again and this does not earn you a pat on the back this time for forgetting to buy Jungwon a new one that’s more age-appropriate, and for not paying enough attention.

You’re partly shocked and partly curious - he’s a shy kid, tends to run back to you at the sight of an unfamiliar person, wide eyes usually on full display when someone tries to get his attention.

But not right now. He’s still wide-eyed but he’s sporting a shy smile, one he tries to suppress by biting his lower lip. Wonder where he got that from. Such mannerisms aren’t genetic too, right?

The mystery man hands him the toy airplane, which Jungown clutches to his chest. He bows at the man and whispers a ‘thank you.’ If that man wanted to do something bad, he would’ve taken Jungwon already but he hasn’t. You’re glad that at least a kind man has found your son.

“Jungwon, sweetie. Come here, please,” you call out, moving a bit to try to get the man’s attention to express your thanks but he’s sporting a hoodie that’s engulfing his face. Maybe you should’ve been more scared.

The stranger shakily stands up and turns as Jungown runs to you with his eyes not leaving his little toy.

Your eyes, on the other hand, can’t leave the figure standing just a few feet away from you, like a bad dream but that isn’t exactly a nightmare.

He’s here. He’s home. And he looks just as gorgeous as you remember - expressive onyx eyes, pretty thin lips, defined jawline, muscular build...

His own eyes move from you to the kid next to you, trying to come up with explanations, mind reeling at what this could mean. You sounded so tender, so loving, so… motherly.

“Jung—”

“Your—”

You both say at the same time. His eyes are fixated on Jungwon, probably trying to figure out who the child is to you.

“I’m babysitting,” you panic.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow and just as he’s about to open his mouth to say something, Jungwon decides to not be shy in front of a supposed stranger.

“Mama, that man fixed my plane!” He excitedly says, and you hate to crush his little moment of joy.

Jungkook’s eyes are now saucer-like, not at all minding that you were caught in a lie but that you, the woman who’d broken his heart all those years ago, have a child. A child whose eyes uncannily and painfully resemble his.

You and Jungkook both seem to be in a daze, your own thoughts swirling in your heads at the situation that neither expected would happen.

You stopped watching his baseball games about two years ago and had avoided whatever news about him would come up. Except recently when you’d heard about him possibly signing with a South Korean baseball team. Looks like did because he’s here, and he hasn’t been in years.

You’d heard from your brother that Jungkook had been doing well with the LA Dodgers and you hadn’t expected that he’d up and leave what had been his home the past four or so years to, well, come home. You’re glad he is but you also aren’t prepared for this.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had tried his best to forget about you soon after you walked out on him that December evening, almost succeeding multiple times until he gave up altogether. He came home last week, earlier than what he’d told the media, since he knew they’d be hampering him about his homecoming, given his recent signing with the Doosan Bears, one of Seoul’s professional baseball teams.

He’d spent the past few days in Busan to visit his mother and arrived from his 4-hour drive just an hour ago. He’d hoped to reach out or run into you but didn’t expect it to actually happen today. He definitely didn’t expect you’d have a son, too.

“Mama, did you get my banana milk?” Jungwon asks, breaking the bubble of confusion and shock between you and Jungkook, both unbelieving at the reality of you finally being in the same space, breathing the same air after so long.

“Yeah, I—” you start, placing the basket down and picking up your son, suddenly feeling nauseous.

Your mind is a puddle of thoughts and you just know that incoherent words will escape your mouth if you don’t leave right now so you make a run for it, or at least try. You walk briskly, clutching Jungwon tightly with his arms wrapped around your neck, so you don’t see him smiling at the man following both of you.

Jungkook calls out your name, prompting Jungwon to state that the man who’d fixed his plane knows his mother.

There are more people with their pushcarts near the exit, making it hard for your quick escape. Jungkook is catching up and upon realizing you won’t turn back to acknowledge him, he talks to Jungwon instead.

“How old are you, buddy?” Jungkook asks, legs clearly made for this. He’s panting though, you can hear it in his voice.

You can’t make a scene so you just try to walk faster.

You feel Jungwon release an arm and you know he’s putting out the ‘four’ sign, something he likes to do.

“When is your birthday?” Jungkook asks shortly after.

Oh god, you think. Jungwon loves this question. “July 6!” He exclaims.

The footsteps become faint and you’re brave enough to turn back as you near the exit doors. Jungkook stands there, dots connecting, mouth agape at what this means.

You leave the supermarket and run to your car, hurriedly placing Jungwon on the car seat and driving away, willing the tears not to fall.

“Who was that, Mama?” He innocently asks.

You admit that you’d thought about the day you’d see Jungkook and let him know about the little one too many times, but this isn’t how you planned it to happen - in public, when you’re incredibly tired, and when you haven’t thought about what you’d say.

This isn’t how you planned on telling Jungwon, too, so you tell a half-truth, like what you’d done a few times before.

“He’s a friend, sweetcheeks. He’s just a friend.”

The tears eventually fall about 5 hours later.

You got home from the grocery - without your groceries, watched cartoons with Jungwon, had food delivered, then prepared him for bed.

You’re now sat on your couch, wine glass in hand, as you try to make sense of the overwhelming emotions of seeing the man that was once your world. Technically, Jungkook still is, considering that your son is half of him.

But it’s different now. Too much has changed since you broke up with him, since he left 5 years ago to chase his dreams of playing for the Major League Baseball in the US, the dream he’d shared with his father, the dream he’d spent his whole life chasing.

Baseball had always been Jungkook’s world; a given, you always thought, since his own father was a baseball star himself, whose dream of playing for the MLB materialized during a trip to Boston as a teenager, the blinding lights and massiveness of Fenway Park and the roars of the crowd cheering for the Red Sox so alluring that he’d made it a point to watch a live game at least once a year.

His own career as a professional player for the South Korean league had been commendable, leading his teams to championships and even playing for the 1996 Olympics. That had been the second best experience of his life, the first being Jungkook’s birth two years prior. Marrying his wife was a close third, and it was something the pair always laughed about. You know this because Jungkook raved about his parents a lot, used to talk about them like he just lived next door to his mother - whom he called everyday, like his father was still alive.

His father didn’t have the luxury of getting scouted by American teams because baseball wasn’t as big then, but his dream of playing for the MLB never faded. Just like what his own father had done, he’d taken Jungkook to a live game every year since Jungkook was six, and tried to watch in every baseball park of every major league team.

They’d only make it to seven though. By that time, the cancer had been debilitating and he had to give up that annual date with his only child. Watching the Lotte Giants in their hometown of Busan had been enough for 13-year old Jungkook, who’d likewise been fascinated by the game, so was waking up in the wee hours of the morning to still catch MLB games on TV.

Jungkook was 14 when his old man passed.

He rarely talked about his father’s death. He also rarely talked about his father outside of baseball. He was a father-coach, Jungkook used to say, not the scary, stage father type who pressured him but the incredibly supportive, only slightly critical one. He’d made Jungkook fall in love with baseball, made him have a reason to wake up everyday, made him have something work hard for, fight for.

After he passed, baseball became something Jungkook hung onto, something he used to remind him of the man that made him who he is today. It became the most sacred part of himself, not for the popularity it gained him nor the praises he received, but because it showed the best parts of him, which were also the best parts of his father - his self-confidence, his tenacity, his grit, and his resolve, his passion for his craft.

Baseball taught Jungkook the value of hard work, of commitment, of focus, while at the same time reminding him of his physical capabilities and limitations.

It’s why he took his Sports Science course seriously, knowing that until his last breath, he would live for the sport. He’d play until he’s physically able, and do everything else when he can’t.

Jungkook had always been a good leader - another trait he got from his father, served as the pillar of strength of every team he’d been a part of because of his vulnerability that allowed others to trust him, to believe him.

His self-confidence may border on arrogance, his forcefulness and intensity may be perceived as aggression, but behind his intimidating aura on the field - partly personality, partly physical prowess - is a tender human being who gets excited over sweets, gushes over Ironman merchandise, likes making blanket forts, squeals over baby animals, enjoys bear hugs, and who just loves to love.

Those were what made you fall for him in the first place. They were what made your naturally cold exterior dissolve until your heart had become bare for him, until your insecurities had become insignificant, until you’d exuded almost the same joy that he had.

Seeing him today just brought the memories back, as if nothing has changed with what you felt for him, as if the pain you felt when you told him it was over, when you walked out and he let you, was just a breath away.

You didn’t realize just how much you missed him until you saw him again, until his proximity reminded you how his laugh used to sound, how his wide eyes and sweet smile looked like, how his sensual touches used to feel.

The tears fall again. That pain, that love - it’s like they never went away.

“Uncle Tete!” Jungwon squeals as your best friend picks up your son from the floor, swinging him around in a circle, soft laughter reverberating through the walls of your cozy apartment. It only takes a few rounds before Taehyung puts him down and complains that his arms already hurt.

“What happened to working on arm exercises?” You chuckle.

“Don’t remind me, you know I hate lifting weights. Plus, like that would make much of a difference,” he exclaims, slim arms out, being swallowed by his sweater. “I’m not an athlete, you know?”

You flinch at the comment and so does he.

“Sorry, too soon?”

“Yes,” you say, rolling your eyes and settling in the kitchen, a bit farther away from Jungwon, whose eyes are now fixated on the TV.

“Hey, I wouldn’t have known Jungkook was back if he hadn’t decided to revive our group chat yesterday after 2 years to ask everyone if they’ve seen you recently because you apparently have a kid and he believes he’s the father.”

“Pretty straightforward, huh?”

“He didn’t wanna waste time. Didn’t even care that your brother is in the same group,” Taehyung shrugs.

“Probably knows Namjoon won’t check.”

“True. But still, how bold of your ex.”

“What did the guys say?” You ask, curious if they ever caught on. Your twice a year appearance since college graduation seemed to be enough for them.

“Yoongi cursed. Jin spammed with theories because he’s convinced you haven’t had a boyfriend in years. Hoseok sent a video message of his reaction, which was really just him freaking out. Jimin acted surprised.”

“And you?”

“I left the group chat.”

You smack his arm, earning you a scowl. “Real smooth, Kim Taehyung.”

“Well, what was I gonna say? ‘Yeah, Jungkook. Your ex-girlfriend was actually pregnant when she broke up with you and you’re totally the father?’”

“You could’ve feigned ignorance, you know, or like denied it until I figured out what to say.”

“___,” he deadpans. “One look at Jungwon and it screams Jungkook. His name isn’t actually subtle, okay? Look at your kid, he even dresses up and eats like the father he’s never met!”

You motion for him to tone it down but Jungwon is busy watching the Avengers cartoons in his Ironman pajamas while sipping his banana milk.

“I’m not projecting!” You say, defending yourself because you know that’s what Taehyung is gonna say.

“It’s not my fault that my kid chose Ironman as his favorite Avenger no matter how many times I pushed Captain America to his face, okay? He didn’t even mind the shield I bought,” you pout.

“And he won’t drink plain milk. If it’s not banana, it’s chocolate. And he loves sweets, loves to hug people, has the cutest laugh…” You sigh, still racking your brain on what parts of your son he got from you.

“Maybe the universe is the one projecting, you know? Like it just had to find a way for Jungwon to be connected to Jungkook, if not physically then by other ways.”

“Your theory is sweet but I doubt it, Tae.”

“My theory is backed by evidence. And a father’s instinct because that shit’s real. Jungkook was still around during those first two months, the bond probably developed then.”

“Jungwon was the size of a raspberry. It’s highly unlikely.”

“Can you just stop deflecting? The father of your son is here. What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know! Get my shit together and figure out what to say? You know I’m not ready for this,” you exclaim.

“Funny that you knew exactly what to say when you broke up with him but now you don’t,” Taehyung cocks an eyebrow.

“Are you my best friend or are you out to get me?”

“I’m just saying. You made that decision all on your own. Didn’t even confide in me,” he pouts. “I could’ve thrown some other options that didn’t require you breaking his heart and yours too, and going through all this by yourself.”

“Except I didn’t go through all this by myself,” you pat his head. “I had you and Namjoon. You were all I needed. Still do.”

“We can never take the place of Jungwon’s father, you know that right?”

“I know, I just… He’s not just my kid’s father, Tae. He’s my ex-boyfriend too. The man I loved.”

“You mean love. The man you still think about, and miss terribly.”

You squint at him as if in question. It’s been years since you and Taehyung had shared an apartment where he’d seen you cry almost everyday. It was something he wasn’t used to because you don’t cry, especially in front of others, not when you found out you were pregnant, not when you walked into Jungkook’s apartment only to walk out of his life. Not when Jungkook skipped graduation and left early for the US.

Everything changed after Jungwon’s birth. It’s like all the tears you never cried decided it was time. And you had years’ worth of it.

“Your kid’s a lot more perceptive than you think. He tells me sometimes that he sees you cry when you’re in bed or when you’re watching TV with him, and why else would you be crying if it wasn’t for that man?”

Of course he does. Jungwon, again just like his father, is thoughtful and pays you a lot of attention. Seriously, what about you did this kid inherit?

“The dam breaks every once in a while, I can’t help it.”

“Now you can,” Taehyung says as he gives you a hug. “You should talk to him. And soon. You know he deserves it.”

Jungkook stares at the ceiling, unwilling to move from the comforts of his bed. Head throbbing from the bottles of SoJu he downed with his older cousin, Jin, last night, the events of the day before are mighty clear in his mind.

He’d really seen you, the woman who once laid residence in his mind and his heart that he could not get rid of no matter how hard he tried, because you’d broken every possible thing you could when you decided to break up all those years ago.

He remembers that night so clearly, how he’d been excited to finally spend time with you so he could ask you to go with him to the US. You chose to break his heart instead, deciding by yourself that it wouldn’t work out. The only reason he agreed was because he’d been too hurt to even think of another way, but whether he agreed or not, he knew you would’ve walked out of his life regardless.

But there you were yesterday, dressed in your favorite-colored down jacket, hair longer than he remembers, little kid in tow calling you Mama.

Mama.

He’d just gotten back in Seoul after a visit to his mother. He’d made sure to be sneaky, as he wanted some peace and quiet before all the interviews and events he’ll need to attend because of this “homecoming” that everybody seemed to be making a big deal out of.

He was doing well with the LA Dodgers, even had meetings and possible offers with the Boston Red Sox, the team his father obsessed over. Jungkook was well on his way for bigger things in the largest baseball league in the world.

He decided to sign with the Doosan Bears instead, not even his hometown baseball team. He’ll chalk it up to missing home, maybe breaking ground so he can play in the Olympics, too, just like his father.

He was gonna seek you out, that was definitely part of the plan. He still considers the breakup as partly one-sided and he wanted to know how you were doing. He also knew he was bound to run into you because there was no escaping your circle of friends, who apparently seemed clueless as well.

Except for Taehyung, obviously, because he’s your best friend and he definitely would’ve known. But you’re here in Seoul, how did you dodge the rest of them? And Namjoon had really been able to keep everything a secret?

There were so many questions. Jin took it upon himself to be his confidante last night because surprisingly, Jimin, his best friend, had been mum about it. Jungkook and Jin spent the rest of last night scouring through social media for any trace of you and that kid but there had been none.

Jungkook is desperate, not just because he wants to see you but the child… looked like him.

The grocery was a few neighborhoods away from his, but it was next to the bank he was in so he decided to just do his shopping then. He’d been going through the sweets aisle, ready to fill the pantry of his new apartment with his favorite snacks, then he heard a thump and a soft quivering voice.

He turned to see a little boy looking sad over his toy airplane whose one wing had been clipped off. An adult didn’t seem to be around and he definitely trusts himself more than any other stranger so he’d approached the kid and asked if he needed help.

Curious doe-eyes met his questioning gaze, until the little kid took the airplane and its broken wing in his arms and cradled them.

“It’s hurt,” the kid had said, and he felt his heart burst at the cuteness and softness of this child. Jungkook took the toy and easily fixed it, the sliding slot probably too hard for his little hands to maneuver. He was about to ask for the kid’s name when he heard a familiar voice call out, the kid looking up and scurrying away from him.

And then there was you.

Everything felt hazy until the kid called you his Mama. You’d picked him up and started walking away before Jungkook could even greet you. He’d seen your abandoned grocery basket, which he could easily pass up as his own because of the same things he’d buy for himself.

The wheels were turning in his head and it wasn’t until the kid, apparently named Jungwon, stated his age that Jungkook pieced everything together. Or at least the possibility.

Could Jungwon be his child?

At the thought of this, Jungkook froze, watched your figure disappear from his sight, the eyes of the child boring into him as you walked away again. The kid let out a small smile and Jungkook had seen enough pictures of himself as a little kid in the news the past few weeks to be reminded of how he looked like, and he looked like that. It was unmistakable.

The scene plays in his head again and Jungkook feels the throbbing of his chest match the throbbing of his head, the need to confirm his suspicions and know the whole truth seeping through his veins. He tries to calm himself down, which is difficult, but he knows he needs a level-head if the truth is what he wants from you.

It’s just past lunchtime and he calls Jimin for help. As he enters the passenger seat, Jimin asks his friend for the destination.

“Take me to Taehyung’s place.”

Jungkook is running on adrenaline. With a sober mind now and a still-aching chest, he’s willing his body to relax but he’s unable, focused only on finding the truth.

There’s concern and an air of acceptance in Taehyung’s face when he opens the door to Jungkook, the idea of him showing up here having something that Taehyung has considered. Jungkook has at least half a mind to reach out to someone else before going to you.

Taehyung welcomes him in, knowing better not to argue or match the other man’s emotions. Jungkook doesn’t ask questions though and instead heads for the refrigerator, bites his lips at the sight of the same brand of banana milk he’d seen in your grocery basket.

He walks around the apartment, not missing the small basket of toys by the window. He opens a room that’s actually Taehyung’s art room and sees a paint set for kids, a framed photo of him with Jungwon placed on a shelf and next to it is a painting, the words “Jeon Jungwon” written at the bottom. It’s all the confirmation that he needs.

“Find what you’re looking for?” Taehyung asks, arms on his waist now, a bit of annoyance seeping through at the disrespect being shown to him. He gets that Jungkook is upset, but Taehyung knows him, knows he’s probably coming up with his own conclusions in his mind.

Before Jungkook could say anything, they hear the front door open, Namjoon’s deep voice calling out.

“Tae, did you get to drop off the groceries at ___’s? Jungwon’s been asking for his milk since yesterday and—” Namjoon stops as he stands by the door, eyes wide at Jungkook standing there, no doubt trying to keep himself together.

“Are you Jungwon’s father now?” He directs the question to Taehyung, the bitterness in Jungkook’s voice not lost on all the men present, including Jimin who’d been having his own battle in his mind because pretty soon, the anger will be directed at him, too.

Jungkook is the kid’s father, he’s sure of it now, yet the thought of another man taking that role causes an ache in his chest.

“Jungwon sleeps here? Does art with you? Does he call you—”

“He calls Tae ‘uncle,’ Jungkook. The same thing he calls me,” Jimin says, essentially coming out.

“You knew? This whole time?” Jungkook yells, fists clenched as the anger builds.

“Just a few years ago but—”

“And you said nothing to me?”

“It was just 2 years ago.”

“And you’ve visited me twice a year since then and you never thought to tell me that I have a son…” Jungkook flinches at the word, unbelieving that it’s something he’d even say.

“Look, just calm down, okay?” Jimin tries, but he knows it won’t do much.

“Calm down? I’m fucking livid. I have a…” Jungkook stops himself, willing the tears not to fall. All this time, you had a child that you’d kept from him, without a care of how he would feel.

“Jungkook, just take a breath, yeah?” Namjoon says this time, walking towards the younger man and pulls him in for a hug. “It’s a lot, I know. But just breathe for a bit.”

Jungkook pulls away, a mix of anger and sadness in his eyes. “How could she keep this from me?”

“Only she can answer that,” Namjoon sighs.

“I need to see her,” Jungkook states after a long pause.

“I can ask when she’s free—” Taehyung offers, ready to get his phone.

“I need to see her now.”

Jungkook finds himself in Jimin’s car, with Taehyung in the backseat talking to you over the phone, saying that he’ll take Jungwon for the rest of the afternoon and that they’re on their way.

Jungkook listens to Taehyung talk to you with so much care, the way he always had all those years ago. Nothing has changed, really.

Back in college, people tried to keep their distance from you, afraid of your resting bitch face and usually cold demeanor. Jungkook had heard about you from Jin, a good friend of your brother’s, and couldn’t quite reconcile the incredibly friendly and gentle Taehyung as your best friend.

It was one of the things that intrigued Jungkook, and he’d find out later on, after pulling all the stops with his flirting and finally getting you to agree on a coffee date, that you really did have a bitch face and you were cold if you wanted to be.

But you were so unapologetically you that it was refreshing. It wasn’t a defense mechanism or anything, it was just really who you were, but that wasn’t everything about you - you were also caring, protective, generous, extremely hardworking, and very confident.

Jungkook had fallen in love faster than he could throw a baseball, and he knows he can throw past 90/mph.

You complemented each other so beautifully that fights were easily resolved, if any, dates were always exciting, and moments together were never boring, even if it was just you quietly working on a paper and him noisily studying his games.

Taehyung was relentless in befriending you and you caved in pretty easily. “Look at the smile,” you’d said once. “Who can resist that?” You always had a soft spot for your best friend and Jungkook never minded; he’d trusted your relationship and you when you said that he never had to worry about Taehyung.

Except now. Because Taehyung seems to be a father figure to his son, being what Jungwon had needed all these years, while Jungkook had been clueless about it.

The night you broke up with him, you left him a weeping mess and begging behind closed doors to please don’t go. He felt he’d lost a big part of him, felt the soul-crushing feeling of losing someone again.

The loss of you was something he couldn’t prepare for and he’d spent years trying to put the pieces again, all on his own, in a foreign country, while chasing his dream. It had been hard but after some time, he rationalized in his mind that maybe you were right, maybe it would’ve been very hard for the both of you given the distance, the time difference, the busy schedules. It wouldn’t have been fair; he’d accepted that.

But keeping his child from him like this? This is too much. This is ruthless. You made a decision again. All by yourself. And he’s angry.

Everyone is thankful that Jungwon is asleep, although it’s a chance for Jungkook to see the little one in slumber, looking like the most adorable boy in the world.

Jimin and Taehyung agree to leave first, Jungkook not wanting them to wait, although he’s unsure how long this conversation with you is going to last.

You’ve been pacing back and forth since Taehyung called, informing you of the impromptu visit and Jungkook being unrelenting in his decision to speak with you today. You would’ve wanted to wait, although you know that Tae is right - Jungkook needs to know as soon as possible; he deserves that much.

In your more than 2 years together, you barely saw Jungkook angry - that was more of your thing because he enjoyed annoying the hell out of you every time and you always gave him shit for it.

But you two barely fought - you understood his busy schedule and were never really the jealous type, despite the presence of his “fans” (except maybe around Sora who’d named herself as the president of Jungkook’s fan club like that shit still flies), while Jungkook always knew how to make it up to you. He rarely complained, too if you ditched him to work on your projects.

But this Jungkook is different - his nostrils are flaring, brows are furrowed, jaws are clenched you’re afraid he’d break his teeth.

You’re different, too. You’re nervous, more reserved, not with your usual crossed arms but with fingers fidgeting at the loss of control.

You lead him in the living room and motion for him to sit down but he dismisses you.

“Hi, Jung—”

“I need to hear it from you,” he breathes out. “I know, god, I fucking know but I need to hear it from you.”

You take a deep breath and you say the words you’ve practiced in your head. “Jungwon is our son.”

You see him close his eyes, bite his lips, and tilt his head. It’s how you know he’s trying to control his emotions.

The silence is deafening but you give him time to process.

“How? I mean, you were on birth control and you said you never missed…” He stammers.

“Pills are not 100%, Jungkook. It just happened,” you explain, racking your brain for days right after you took the test over how it might’ve happened. At one point you stopped; it was no use.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It’s the big question, the one he’s been losing his mind over. It doesn’t matter that it happened; he just doesn’t know how you could make that big of a decision all on your own when it concerned him, the other half of the child.

“You were on your way to the big leagues. I couldn’t take that away from you.”

“But you thought it was alright to take away years with my son?” He seethes. “Fuck, ___. That wasn’t your decision to make.”

It wasn’t, not fully at least, you knew it. But he wouldn’t make that decision, so you had to.

“I made it anyway,” you respond, tone more stern now.

With all the pain and struggles it brought, it’s the one thing you stand by; it’s a decision you never regretted. Watching Jungkook play in the ballparks his dad never got to take him to, seeing him blow a kiss to the sky before and after every game, and catching him mouth the words ‘I love you, dad’ after his interviews have always been enough to trump everything else.

Jungkook had been living his and his father’s dream. It had always felt worth it.

“Why? I would’ve stayed,” Jungkook yells.

“Exactly. You would’ve,” you yell back. “I was sure that the moment you knew, you would’ve passed up a dream you worked your whole life for. I couldn’t let you do that. I couldn’t let you make that decision.”

“So you made it for me, by giving me none at all?” He scoffs. “Real brave, ___. And real fucked up, too.”

“It was the only way for you to go!” You exclaim. “If you had known, you wouldn’t have left, you would’ve settled, stayed behind… You would’ve given everything up.”

“Because that’s our child, ___!”

“And we didn’t plan on having him!” You shout, tears prickling on the corners of your eyes now.

“You’ve known baseball your whole life, Jungkook. Everything you’ve ever done was so you could play in the MLB and you did. You made it happen because you had the best opportunity and you took it, worked hard, got to where you wanted to be,” you rationalize.

He’s panting as he processes your words, mind going again to that night when you walked out on him, making sense of the reasons why, those you verbalized and those you didn’t.

“I know you, Jungkook,” you sigh, your voice taking him back to the present. “You’d take responsibility because that’s the kind of man you are. You would’ve insisted on taking care of us, on letting go of everything else for us, for your son. And I couldn’t let you give up on your dream, the one thing left of your father…”

“Don’t you fucking dare bring up my father,” he snaps at you, eyes so cold and you feel so small.

“You wouldn’t have forgiven yourself if you let that dream go for us.”

“Then you don’t really know me, ___. Because the hell would I give us up just like that. The hell would I give up time away from my son.”

He pulls his hair out of frustration, then lets go, tears now streaming down his face.

“I was 14 when I lost my dad, ___.”

“I know, and I’m sorry—”

“No, you don’t know. And you aren’t sorry,” he retorts, his back facing you as he tries to get himself together. “I had to watch him wither away, had to stay by his bedside and watch him take his final breath because my mother couldn’t. I was 14 and I had to be strong for my parents. And I cried, every single night, for months,” he heaves.

He turns to face you, wants you to know how much you’ve hurt him.

“I almost quit school because I wouldn’t get out of my bed, wouldn’t talk to anyone. I told you I suffered, that I lost my way,” he continues, weeping.

But you didn’t know this, didn’t know he suffered like this, that he lost his way like this.

“But the dream kept you going, didn’t it?” You try. “It gave you purpose; you had something to live for, Jungkook,” you continue, reminding him of what the dream meant to him.

He’d been young but he had so many memories with his father about baseball; it had been the core of their relationship, the thread that kept them connected years after his death.

“In return for what?” He barks. “Fuck, I would’ve given anything to have my father again. And that includes that dream, ___.”

You stare at him, his body now crouching down on the couch, unable to fully lift himself up. You’d never seen him like this. He was never afraid to cry but this is different.

Your own tears are relentless, as if telling you that this is all because of you and you deserve this pain. You had broken this man, and you’d done so without regret.

He looks up at you, wipes his tear-drenched face, illuminating the pain, the longing, the anger.

“You took four years of my life away from my son. You robbed me of that chance. You didn’t even give me a choice. How fucking selfish are you? You had no right, ___,” he huffs.

“I just… I know you, Jungkook. You would’ve stayed and then what?” You say, trying to stand your ground, but even you don’t believe your words, at least not anymore.

“You’ll regret it down the road? Resent us because you had to stay? How would we feel? How would Jungwon feel, knowing that his father gave up his dream for him?”

“Really? You’re absolutely sure that’s what would happen? As if I’m not resenting you now?” Jungkook scoffs.

“You don’t know what it’s like to have someone be taken from you, to not have enough time with them. But yeah, you need to have the last say always, right?” He says coldly, allowing the silence to let you take in his bitter words.

“You can’t ever feel like you don’t have control so you make all the decisions by yourself. Hurting those in your wake before they hurt you. But it’s all good right because you stand by it? As long as it’s enough to rid you of the guilt even if it hurts everyone else?”

This is how he hurts you - peeling away your layers and throwing them back at you, until there’s nothing left but all the parts you didn’t want anyone to see. But Jungkook had seen them, accepted them, loved you despite them.

But he’s standing in front of you. And there’s no love in his eyes. You don’t think you deserve it anymore.

You give him this, the last say. And he takes it. And he leaves.

Like countless times before, you fall to the floor and cry. You cry until your sounds are loud enough, until you can no longer hear your own heart breaking.

Taglist: @fluffyjoons @jwlmnbt @koremis @mrcleanheichou @kooafraid @purplepommy @btstannies @jeonwiixard @songshin @joondala @hobiade @di0rgguk @fan-ati--c @yn-the-reader @spicybangtanwings @njkbangtan @jeoncookie-bts @miniaturecloud @revehosh @preciouschimine @sherlynxx @dimreads

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #parents au #exes au #baseball player jk #inevitable #series

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uwuwriting · 4 years

Text

How the boys SIMP! w/ Bakugou, Kaminari and Todoroki

Request: I got like five requests about several of our favorite boys simping over their girlfriend so yeah, here we are.

Hi I’m not dead, yet at least. I;m starting to believe that my brain will turn to goo after all the chemistry and biology I’ve been studying. Sorry for not posting, my tumblr decided to be a dick and deleted my queued posts so haha yeah. Anyways my posts won’t be as regural as they used to because school....kill me. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: SIMPING

Bakugou Katsuki

-Okay he is rather subtle with his simping.

-He won’t straight up kiss the ground you walk on.

-BUT he will be kinder and a little softer.

-Maybe sometimes to the point others notice and it’s not a good look on him.

-Or at least that’s what he believes.

- “I have a reputation to keep, baby.”

-That was said behind closed doors at 3 am on the rare occassion he stayed past his bed time.

-And yes he will ignore his bedtime for you.

-One of his simping tactics.

-He will cook for you, he will pretend that he’s annoyed that you aren’t eating well enough or healthy.

-So he becomes mama Bakugou and starts cooking for you.

-Bento boxes for school, snacks while you are studying, dinner and breakfast.

-He will teach you how to cook some dishes for when he is not here and you get hungry.

- “We’re doing your favorite.”

- “Aww Katsuki, you know my favorite.”

- “Shut up dumbass and pay attention.”

-Speaks rather softly after a while, showing you how to correctly cut the ingredients and how to stir the mix without making a mess.

-He will just leen on the counter and watch you add all the ingredients with that little concentrated pout on your lips.

-His heart goes oops.

-He will be so engrossed with your beauty that you’ll have to give him a small shake when you need him.

-Pretends to enjoy what you’ve made if you messed it up somehow but will give you honest feed back and advice so you make something edible next time.

-You tend to spend the night at his dorm and he loves it.

-It’s usually on accident.

-You cuddle him while he goes to sleep and your plan is to get up and leave once you have taken your fill.

-But he is warm and oh so cuddly that you fall asleep as well.

-He wakes up around ten o’clock everytime to make sure you left and when he still feels you next to him he just lets out the most genuine smile.

-He will pull you flush to his chest *if you are not already* and take in your scent saying a little I love you before going back to sleep.

-The next morning he will wake you up before anyone else gets up and walks you to your room.

-Thankfully you are on the same floor so you don’t have to go far.

-He always walks with you to and from class no matter his mood.

-He monitors his tone when he can help it and will warn you when his mood is really awful.

-In general it’s the little things with him not grand gestures and all out simping.

Kaminari Denki

-Worships the ground you walk on.

-All out simping no shame.

-He will straight up give his soul for you.

-And he is rather proud of that fact.

-The polar opposite of Bakugou.

-And he can get on everyone’s nerves with his simping.

-Picks you up form your dorm room every morning, carries your bag to class and opens every single door you come across.

-Gives you his food if you show the slightest of interest in his meal.

- “Denki I just want a bite.”

- “I CAN GET ANOTHER ONE BABY!”

-Calm down sir....calm down.

-Has canceled game night because you had period cramps.

-The thing with that is you never actually asked him to come cuddle or something you just mentioned that you were heading to Recovery Girl for some pain killers.

-Man was waiting you at her office in -0.5 seconds.

- “I thought you were playing COD.”

- “I canceled.”

- “YOu wHAt?”

-Bakugou legit thinks you are the reason Kaminari keeps blowing them off.

-That you are some type of overly clingy girlfriend.

-DENKI IS AN OVERLY CLINGY GIRLFRIEND.

-Has gone off on a russian dude because while you were playing COD together he said something about girls being really bad at video games.

-Your man almost got banned.

-He skips class if you’re sick which is rather sweet but simultaneously really really dumb.

-Aizawa is coming fro his ass in 3....2....1.

-Boy didn’t even reach your door.

-You just heard your boyfriend’s girlish screams coming from down the hall followed by pleads of mercy.

-You were -><- this close to going out there to see what was going on but then you heard Aizawa’s monotonous voice and just went back to sleep.

-He later came over and narrated his traumatic experience.

-Poor baby just wanted to take care of you.

Todoroki Shouto

-He’s a mix of Bakugou and Denki.

-He likes being subtle and showering with affection behind closed doors but also will be at your beck and call.

-In your or his room he likes to hold you close like really really close.

-Oh you are studying?

-Will just hug you from behind.

-You are watching something on Netflix?

-Will rest his head on your shoulder.

-You do the same really because he is a very very touch starved baby and he needs more love.

-He Likes to bring you food that Fuyumi makes.

-He visits his sister on the regural so he always or almost always comes back with a small bento box with your name on it in Fuyumis delicate writing.

-Fuyumi loves you and she knows what a simp her baby brother is for you.

-In public he isn’t on Denki’s level.

-Yeah sure he will open the door for you.

-Sure he might ignore everyone else and only answer to you.

-But that doesn’t make him an immediate simp.

-No no.

-What makes him a simp is the way he treats you during free period.

-Clingy boy to the fullest.

-And a bonus, will do anything you ask.

-You are doing a project and you need to test something in extreme heats? He has laready rolled up his sleeve.

-You are thirsty from studying? He is already on his way to buy you a water bottle.

-He’s more of a protective simp.

-Considering who his father is he really gets protective over you whenever he is around.

-Also doesn’t like training with you because he doesn’t want to accidently hurt you.

-The last simp characteristic of his is drum roll......

-Your sleeping schedule.

-It’s fucked up basically.

-You tend to study until you pass out in his room and he will always carry your to your dorm unless you tell him otherwise.

-Will risk detention for being out past curfew just to get you to your room.

-I LOVE HIM!

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @bemorefiction @dnarez-mangetsu

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jaehyunhour · 4 years

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BACK 2 U | jung jaehyun

genre + idol → hanahaki au, angst, smut, babydaddy!jaehyun (ft. johnny suh)

word count → 4.9k

warnings → tiniest bit of cursing, protected sex

summary → you and jaehyun have been together for years now and have just had your first child. you couldn’t be happier to be with the man you love, but what happens when jaehyun starts staying late at work, you start coughing up flowers, and you’re left alone with the baby? even worse, what happens when jaehyun comes crawling back years later but you can no longer love him again?

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make you stay. I promise I will tell Jieun good things about you, Yoonoh.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s my fault. I hurt you.”

a/n → have fun with this one, i’m not sure how to feel about the ending but sigh this one really hurt to write..... also please don’t ask me for a part two because i will not write one lol i love y’all but not every story needs a part two

For many people, their worst fears are being buried alive, spiders, something along those lines. But your worst fear had always been falling out of love. Whether you are the one falling out of love with someone, or the other way around, just the thought made you stressed. On one hand, if you fall out of love someone, you cause them irreparable pain, flowers growing in their lungs until they can’t breathe. And on the other hand, if someone falls out of love with you, you’re the one suffering. There’s no winning.

But for the first time in your life, this fear is thrown out of the window. The first time Jaehyun tells you “I love you, I want to be with you forever” you feel the fear leave your body. A weight is lifted off your chest, you can finally breathe again. He sounds so sincere when he says it, it must be true.

And as the years pass, and you spend more and more of your life with him, you know that you never want to love anyone else in this, or any lifetime. He is who you are meant to spend your life with. You and Jaehyun are meant to have children together, grow old together, and be in love for the rest of your life.

One day, Jaehyun stomps into your shared home with his eyebrows furrowed and lips in a pout. You rush to meet him at the door, quickly taking his face in your hands and kissing the pout off his lips.

“Long day?” You ask.

He nods. “You have absolutely no idea. Happy to see your pretty face, though.”

“Could say the same to you, handsome. Go lay down, I’ll make you dinner. I have something to tell you after we eat.”

You skip over to the kitchen, quickly taking ingredients out of the fridge and cabinet to make dinner for you and Jaehyun. The last few weeks, Jaehyun had been leaving in the early morning for work, leaving you alone for most of the day. You’d been waking up with terrible morning sickness, and after going to the doctor earlier in the day, found out you were pregnant. Jaehyun hadn’t asked to marry you yet, and he still had years ahead of him in his career, but you knew this is something you both wanted.

Jaehyun watches as you cook from the kitchen table, feeling his heart inflate with how much love he has for you.

“I can’t wait for the day I get to marry you.”

“Well, we could be planning a wedding right now but you haven’t asked me to marry you yet.” You drop the last few things into the pot, setting the lid on it before crawling into Jaehyun’s lap and wrapping your arms around him.

“I don’t want to have to plan a wedding and go to the courthouse or anything. I just want you to be my wife.”

“Then ask me to be your wife.”

“Y/N,” Jaehyun says, hands gripping onto your hips tightly, eyes flickering from your eyes, to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “Will you— Wait. Wait here.” He pushes you off him and you sit on the chair as you wait for him. He comes back a few moments later, fist closed tightly around something. He gets down on his knees in front of you, grabbing both of your hands with one of his and smiles. “Y/N, will you be my wife?” He opens his palm, revealing the diamond ring you had pointed out over a month ago when you went searching for couple rings.

You nod, and he slips the ring onto your ring finger. He kisses your hand before placing it back down on your lap, admiring the way the ring looks on your finger.

“Alright, I have something for you now.”

“Don’t know if whatever you have planned could be better than you finally becoming my wife.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh- I- Oh. Oh, that’s definitely better.”

Jaehyun is incredible throughout your pregnancy. He takes time off of work to stay home with you, builds and decorates the nursery, even packs your hospital bag as the days inch closer to your due date. But in the last month of your pregnancy, Jaehyun is quickly pulled back to work and you’re left alone with a swollen belly and complete nursery. You can’t even nest because Jaehyun already did it for you — he didn’t want you to lift a finger until the baby came. The last three weeks have been lonely. Jaehyun comes home in the middle of the night, he spends the weekends away on business trips, is always hunched over his computer in the living room when he is home, and you feel like he’s slipping through your fingertips. You want him home, in bed with you, with your baby, before your attention is completely on her.

The longer Jaehyun is away from you, the more nervous you get. Every time he leaves overnight you’re worried he won’t make it back in time for the baby’s birth. And when he calls you from his trips, and you hear a woman’s voice in the background, your throat begins hurting and your irrational fear of falling out of love resurfaces. You feel something stir in your stomach and you panic.

“Come home, baby. Please,” you say quietly.

“Honey, I’m working, I can’t just—”

“— Please, Yoonoh. I don’t want to have this baby alone.”

You feel selfish. Maybe nothing is actually wrong, but the pain in your throat and the feeling in your stomach is too much to ignore. He rushes home, and within hours is in bed with you, thin fingers placed on the highest point of your belly, fingertips tapping and waiting for the baby to react and kick.

“Do you think there’s a reason she’s not kicking?”

“She’s sleeping. Enjoying her last moment’s in mama’s belly before she’s brought out into the real world. Don’t bother her.”

“You’re funny,” he says. “I have always loved that about you.”

The first few weeks of coughing flowers are uncomfortable, but bearable. Jaehyun isn’t around to see you suffer — staying extra late at work, continuing to go on business trips, attending meetings — and you wonder what his new infatuation is like as you breastfeed your newborn daughter and suppress a cough. She must be one hell of a woman if she can tear a man away from his wife and newborn child. You sit in the nursery Jaehyun insisted on decorating himself, illuminated only by the string lights hanging across the room. Once your daughter is done feeding, you sit her up and begin burping her. You pat her back, listening to her slight hiccups and feel your chest tighten.

She spits up after a few more moments and you clean her up, before setting her back in the crib where she quickly falls asleep. You stare at her sleeping figure and finally let out the cough you’d been holding in, plucking the red petals from your lips and tearing it apart with your fingers. It falls on the floor, and then you hear the front door open and Jaehyun’s footsteps heading into the nursery.

“I just put her down,” you say when he gets to the door. “Let’s go to bed.”

You get into bed quickly, with Jaehyun following shortly behind. Once in bed, you turn your back to him and sink into the sheets. He crawls into bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Missed you today, baby,” he mumbles against your skin.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Did you really think you would be able to get away with it?”

Jaehyun tenses for a second, but then relaxes again. “What are you talking about?”

“Jaehyun… We live in a cruel, cruel world,” you whisper. “I can’t even feed my own daughter without feeling like I’m going to choke on the flowers growing inside of me. Did you really think you’d be able to get away with it?”

The room is uncomfortably silent. The baby monitor on the bedside table is on, and you can hear your daughter in the other room making noises as she sleeps. Tears begin to fall down your face and you suppress the sob that is bubbling in your chest.

“I don’t know what to say,” Jaehyun responds.

“When I wake up in the morning, I want you out of my house,” you pick up the baby monitor and reach behind your back, letting it fall between your bodies. “If the baby cries in the night, you tend to her. Enjoy your last moments with her.” His grip on your body tightens.

“Y/N—” Jaehyun starts, but you push him off you and get out of bed.

“I’m going to go sleep on the couch,” you say, grabbing a pillow and a blanket from your closet. Once you get to the door, you stop and look at him laying in your bed. “Goodnight, Jaehyun. I really do love you. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.”

You lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling and listening to the noises of your house. The refrigerator running, the fan running in your bedroom, Jaehyun’s footsteps as he walks around your shared bedroom.

In the bedroom, Jaehyun paces around the room trying to figure out what to do. Surely he loves you, as the mother of his child, but that wasn’t enough. What if I ask her to start over? he thinks. But that could kill her. If we start from the beginning again, try to fall in love again, try to put back together our already broken relationship and it didn’t work, the flowers would fill her lungs and kill her. And if she got the surgery, she would never love me again.

As he’s packing his things, the baby begins crying and it takes him several moments to process what is happening. By the time he realizes the baby is crying and he heads to the nursery, you’re already in there, holding the baby in your arms and sitting in the rocking chair in the corner.

He watches you with the baby and his chest begins to feel heavy. You look so beautiful holding the baby, rocking back and forth in the chair with your eyes closed. Jaehyun wishes so badly he could continue loving you the way you love him. You clear your throat and bring him out of his trance.

“Jieun-ah,” you whisper quietly, tears falling down your face. “i’m sorry I couldn’t get your appa to continue loving me for you. I promise I will only tell you good things about him when you’re older.”

He lets out a sigh before returning back to the bedroom. He packs all of his things up in his suitcases and watches the sun rise from the balcony of your bedroom. A chill runs down his spine as he watches the sun go higher and higher. After one last check throughout the room to make sure all of his things are packed, he sneaks into the nursery to look at your daughter.

He’s surprised to see you in there, inside the crib, lying in the fetal position next to your daughter. He checks the time on his phone, it’s 7:34 a.m. and he realizes any moment now the baby will wake up and want to eat. He heads into the kitchen, heating up a bottle and as soon as he steps back into the nursery, the baby wakes up and lets out a loud cry. You stir, ready to take her and feed her, but as your eyes open, you see Jaehyun in the rocking chair holding her and leading the bottle into her mouth.

“Sleep,” he says. “I’ll leave after this, I promise. Just want to feed my daughter before I go.”

“You know, you never told me why you wanted to name her Jieun,” you say, pulling the blanket over your body and laying back down.

Jaehyun stares down at your daughter eating, memorizing every inch of her face as if it is the last time he will ever see her. She has his eyes but your nose, your ears but his lips. She’s so perfect he could almost cry. He blinks away the tears that surface.

“My father’s name is Jihoon, and my mother’s name is Eunha. So I took one syllable from each of their names for hers. Ji means purpose, and Eun means kindness. I wanted to give her a name that meant something,” he says. “My parents named me Jaehyun for no reason, so I had to change it to Yoonoh when I was older but no one ever calls me that. I wanted different for my kids.”

“I see… I left your ring for you on the coffee table,” you sit back up and watch as she finishes the last of her bottle. “I can burp her if you want.”

Jaehyun shakes his head no, placing her in his lap and holding her upright. He burps her quickly, cleaning her up and placing her back in the crib next to you. He pulls you into a hug and you break down, sobbing into his chest.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make you stay,” you say, trying not to wake the baby who just knocked back out. “I promise I will tell Jieun good things about you, Yoonoh.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s my fault. I hurt you,” he responds. He pulls back, placing a kiss on your forehead, walking out of the nursery and closing the door behind him.

And with that, Jaehyun walks out of your life.

It’s 3 a.m. on a Tuesday, and you hear the baby begin to cry from the nursery. It’s been 4 months since Jaehyun has left, but you still stir in bed and call out for him.

“Jaehyun — the baby,” you mumble, sinking further into the sheets. She cries harder and you groan. “Yah, Jung Jaehyun, your baby is calling for you.” You sit up in bed annoyed, looking over to the other side of the bed and realize Jaehyun isn’t there. He hasn’t been for months.

“Fuck, I need to stop doing that,” you say, running your hands through your hair, putting your slippers on and running over to the nursery.

You place Jieun into the baby carrier strapped onto your body, slipping a mask on before grabbing your keys and heading towards the door. As you open the door, you’re met with Johnny’s tall body and his hand in mid-air.

“Johnny— oh. I was just about to go on a walk. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to come check on you… Jaehyun doesn’t know I’m here.”

Johnny accompanies you on your walk, offering to take the baby and give you a break.

“How old is she now?”

“Ten months. Every day she looks more and more like Jaehyun and it kills me.”

“She’s getting so big. You ever think of getting a step-dad for her?”

“Surely you didn’t come all the way across town to hit on me, Mr. Suh. I’m still working on trying to get her real dad to come around and see her, haven’t even thought about a step-dad.”

“I’m kidding, you know that,” Johnny stops in his tracks in front of the first coffee shop you see. “Do you want coffee?”

“I’m still breastfeeding, I don’t want to drink any caffeine. But I’ll wait while you get something.”

Johnny enters the shop quickly, coming out in a few minutes with a drink in hand. “Does Jaehyun really not come around?”

You shake your head no. “I called him the other day and he got mad at me for calling.”

You think back to a couple of weeks ago when you called Jaehyun. You were sitting on the living room floor, Jieun in the baby swing as you cooed and tried to get her to talk back to you. Before then, all she had done was babble incoherently and you felt less than the other mothers in your classes whose babies have already said at least a couple of words.

“C’mon, sweet girl, just say mama. Just once, I won’t tell anyone I promise,” you said quietly, finger on her chin and moving her lips.

And before you could even process, the word mama left her lips and you gasped. “Did you just say that? Oh my god, I need to call your dad.”

You grabbed your phone from the couch, dialed Jaehyun’s number and he picked up almost instantly.

“What do you want?” He snarled from the other side of the phone.

You rolled your eyes. “God, I hate you.”

“If you hate me, then why’d you even call?”

“Well, for your information, your daughter just said her first word. I thought you’d want to know.”

“What’d she say?”

“Mama.”

“That’s nice, Y/N. Look, I have to go, I’m working,” He said quickly, hanging up the phone and you groaned.

“I don’t even know why I try with him anymore. You would think he would actually want to hear about his daughter’s milestones at the very least, you know, make sure she’s still alive. But he doesn’t care. I’ll get over it, eventually.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve this. How did you, y’know, deal with the flowers?”

“Oh, I got the surgery a few days after he left. I left Jieun with my mom for a weekend and got it done. I wasn’t going to wait around for Jaehyun to maybe come back and start loving me again. I don’t have that kind of time, I have a baby now.”

“Damn. You’re stone-cold, Y/N. Seriously, if you ever want a new daddy, I will gladly help you out.”

“Why do I feel like you aren’t talking about Jieun? Don’t start that kinda talk around my baby, sir.”

“If sir is what you’re into, I can do that too,” He says with a wink.

“Ha-ha, very funny. I’m going to let you spend a weekend with her then you can decide if you want to be her new dad.”

“Oh you’re on, Y/N. Hear that, Jieun-ah?” Johnny says, jumping lightly, Jieun’s body moving with him, a loud fit of giggles leaving her lips. “Johnny’s gonna get a chance to be your new papa.”

You flick him on the forehead and he laughs. “You’re ridiculous. C’mon, walk us home.”

“Mama, wake up,” Jieun says quietly, crawling into your bed and on top of you. She places a flurry of kisses on your face and it stirs you awake. “Mama, come on, Papa is gonna be here soon.”

You wrap your arms around her and let out a sigh before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Who are you calling Papa? Johnny? Did he put you up to this?”

She nods quickly and lets out a giggle. “He said you would laugh.”

“You two are quite the comedians. Alright, go pick out some clothes and I’ll go make breakfast for you before Johnny gets here.”

Johnny isn’t your boyfriend, by any means, but he has stepped up and helped you with Jieun whenever you needed. And now she’s turning six in a few days, and Johnny has offered to take her for a weekend so you can have some time off. In the middle of cooking breakfast, you hear the keypad slide open and moments later, Johnny is walking through the door. He heads into the kitchen and pulls you into a side-hug, kissing you on the forehead and smiling.

“You know, she called you Papa this morning.”

He laughs. “Really? Holy shit, I didn’t think she would actually do it.”

“Dude, you can’t tell her to do that. She’ll get all confused and I don’t want to have that conversation with her.”

“Y/N, when will you finally give up and realize that we’re good for each other? And that I’m worthy of being her dad?”

You sigh. “Johnny—”

“— I’m serious! If you didn’t feel something for me, I would be dead by now. It’s been 5 years.”

“Good luck on your test run as Papa, Mr. Suh,” you say, plating the food for Jieun. “Go tell your daughter to come eat and then pack her bags.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“It’s mama to you, sir.”

The house is eerily quiet without Jieun and Johnny. Their infectious laughter normally fills the house along with the sound of toys clonking and falling, and you’re unsure of what to do to fill the time. What else is there to do with your life if you aren’t fawning over Johnny with your daughter? She might look like Jaehyun, but she’s all Johnny. She’s taken so much of his personality over the years that you barely see yourself in her some days. There’s a knock on the door and you’re quickly taken out of your thoughts — you head over to the door, saying a quick prayer that Johnny and Jieun are behind the door because they missed you, but when you open it, you’re met with Jaehyun.

“What are you doing here?”

“Okay, hello to you too?” He responds, walking past you and into the house. He takes his shoes off, walking into Jieun’s bedroom and walking out moments later, confused. “Where is she?”

“She’s with Johnny for the weekend.”

“Her birthday’s tomorrow, why is she with him?”

You can feel your blood boiling. In the last six years, Jaehyun hasn’t tried once to be a father to her and all of a sudden, he wants to try to be in her life. Having to be a mother, and watch another man have to step up to be her father, hurts beyond belief. You know you shouldn’t want Jaehyun to hurt too, but the words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself from saying them. “She insisted on spending her birthday weekend with her Papa.”

“P-papa? She thinks he’s her dad? You can’t be serious.”

“She knows he isn’t her dad. I promised to her before you even left that I would tell her the good things about you, and I did. I never told her to call him that, she did it on her own. If she feels like Johnny is her papa, what’s it to you?”

Your eyes begin to water and you turn to look anywhere else in the room except at Jaehyun and he lets out a shaky breath. He gets down on his knees in front of you, grabbing your hands and letting his head hang low.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he says. “I know I fucked up beyond belief, but we can’t live like this forever. I want a chance to be the father that I haven’t been for the last six years, to be that man for both you and Jieun.”

The tears stream freely down your face. “Jaehyun, get up.”

He gets up frantically, holding your face in his hands and forcing you to look at him. His face is red, tears staining his cheeks, and — call it a moment of weakness, but — his lips look so inviting. You feel like you’re in a trance, it’s been so long since you’ve even seen Jaehyun, especially this close up, and you’re immediately pulled into the time you had your first kiss. It was much too similar to this — you and Jaehyun standing in your living room, his hands on your face, his lips moving in a confession of love. His lips are moving, but you can’t hear any of what he’s saying, and before you know it, you’re leaning forward and pressing your lips onto his.

Neither of you waste any time — in an instant, Jaehyun’s hands travel down your body to the small of your back, and you bury your hands in his hair. His tongue peeks out of his mouth, licking at your lips and you open them for him. He places his hands on your thighs, and you instantly jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his body. He walks towards your bedroom, his lips never leaving yours, and delicately places you on the bed. Jaehyun pulls away for a second, pulling his shirt over his head and you can feel your panties sticking to you the minute you see his bare torso. He reaches out to you, slipping your shirt over your head and throwing it onto the ground.

You’re not wearing a bra underneath, and in an instant Jaehyun’s lips wrap around one of your nipples, his hand slipping into your leggings and rubbing at your clit through your panties. You let out a content sigh, hand reaching forward to grip his now fully hardened crotch through his pants. He groans, letting go of your nipple and pulling the other one into his mouth.

“Jaehyun, I can’t wait,” you whine.

He pulls back and lets out a laugh. “Still as impatient as ever, I see.”

You roll your eyes, pushing your pants and underwear off, spread your legs, as Jaehyun steps onto the floor to quickly take his pants off.

“Are you on birth control?” He asks.

You shake your head no. “I haven’t gotten back on it.”

“What if Johnny had—”

“What if Johnny had what? Gotten me pregnant? That wouldn’t have been any of your business,” you snap. His eyes widen slightly and you sigh. “There’s condoms in my top drawer.”

He opens the drawer, sees the loose condoms, opens one and rolls it onto himself before getting back on the bed. He pushes your legs open further, balancing his weight on his arms as his tip pokes at your entrance. He looks into your eyes for any sign of regret, and for a second he thinks he sees some, but you nod quickly and he enters in one swift thrust. You gasp as soon as he’s in, clenching around him a few times to get used to the feeling and he groans.

“You feel so good, baby,” Jaehyun says, and for a second it feels like nothing his changed. He still feels the same inside of you, he still looks the same, he’s talking to you just as he always has.

“Move, please.”

He nods and begins thrusting into you slowly, pulling all the way out and slamming back in. You wrap your arms around his neck and he drops his head in the crook of your neck, pressing kisses into your skin as his thrusts pick up speed. Your mouth hangs open, letting out low moans and he groans every time he feels you clench around him. The world around you begins to fade as you feel Jaehyun’s body pressed close to yours, and you close your eyes to memorize the feeling before it’s ripped away from you.

“Say my name,” he says, angling his hips to hit that secret spot inside of you.

“J-jaehyun.”

“My real name.”

He’s thrusting into you at an absolutely inhumane pace, balancing all of his weight on one arm as his other travels to where your bodies meet, fingers pressing into your clit and your hips come up off the bed, chasing your oncoming high.

“Yoonoh, please, I wanna cum.”

Jaehyun’s chest convulses, and you can tell he’s crying into your neck. Tears brim at your eyes, and you can’t tell if it’s from the pleasure you’re receiving or the feeling of Jaehyun’s hot tears hitting your skin.

“Tell me you love me, please,” Jaehyun says quietly. “Lie to me.”

Your hands dig into the sheets, gripping tightly as you’re on the edge of your orgasm. Jaehyun pinches your clit between your fingers and successfully pushes you over the edge. You cum around him, back arching off the bed, and letting out a quiet “Yoonoh, I love you.” At the feeling of you spasming around him, and you telling him you love him, even if it is a lie, Jaehyun finishes into the condom and drops his body on top of you.

Your arms are spread on the bed, not wanting to touch Jaehyun as the guilt begins to consume you. Johnny isn’t your boyfriend yet, but he’s the father to your daughter that Jaehyun never was, and you almost feel like you’ve just cheated on him.

“Hold me,” Jaehyun whispers into your chest.

“Get up, Jaehyun,” you respond, lightly pushing him off your body. He sits up, head hanging low, and you wince at the feeling of him slipping out of you. He slips the condom off, tying it and throwing it into the trash can in your bathroom. When he comes back out into your bedroom, you’ve already redressed.

“This was a mistake, you should go home.”

“Y/N, I was serious earlier. I want to be that man for both you and Jieun.”

“It’s too late now,” you respond, watching as he redresses. As soon as his last article of clothing is back on, you’re pushing him out of the bedroom and towards the front door. You push him out the front door, throwing his shoes out after him. “This never happened.”

“Y/N, can we just talk about this?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Yoonoh. We have someone new in our life and he’s going to be the husband and father that you never were. Please don’t love me anymore, Jaehyun. It’ll kill you.”

579 notes · View notes

akitokihojo · 3 years

Text

Stay

Woah, two posts in one day? Yeah... yeeeeeeah. I don't usually post so late, but as I sat here staring at this document, I realized that if I don't post it now, I never will.

Okay, look, this story is extremely personal for me and I want to give a warning about that. If you know me or have been following me for a while, you may have noticed I tend to keep to myself, I'm quiet, and I'm private. But, as most humans, I have things I battle, too. I've been through things, too.

My coping mechanisms are humor and "add to cart." My therapy is writing. I decided to give this a shot. I've gotten personal with older fics before, but it's vague and I sort of lightly mix it in there like food seasonings. "Everything's Okay" and "A Moment" are examples of which. This story is largely based off something real. The emotion behind it is real. Very real.

Now, I will admit, the comfort added isn't. It's something I've realized over the past couple of years that I both crave and deserve. It's something that would help me incredibly, and maybe it's unrealistic, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I want it. So bad. So, I wrote. I made it happen.

I decided to project everything into my comfort otp, so if either Kagome or Inuyasha seem out of character, it's because they are. Sorry about that. It was difficult to keep their characteristics in tact. Particularly, Inuyasha. He's unbelievably soft here.

This is sloppy. I did my best to edit, but like I said, the longer I sat on it, the less likely it was bound to be posted. Just consider it unfiltered emotions if it seems messy, because that's what it's supposed to be.

Some disclaimers that I'll open up about: Yes, all of those negative things have been said to me by a past ex. What Kagome tells Inuyasha is very real for me. Also, replace "abusive father" with "abusive mother" and you've got it. :) I just didn't feel comfortable disrespecting mama higurashi with such slander, so since Kagome's father isn't in the picture, it was simpler.

Okay, I'm done. Thank you. If you read this, thank you. Again.

---

“Come on, Kagome. Show me.” Inuyasha encouraged supportively.

Kagome sighed, adjusting the shorts a bit better around her waist as she stared at herself in the mirror on the inside of the door. She’d comfortably tucked herself away in the walk-in closet of her boyfriend’s bedroom, preferring the space she had and the length of the mirror as opposed to the bathroom that only showed her up to her hips unless she bounced to her tippy toes.

“Houston, we have a problem.” She spoke.

“Define ‘problem.’” Inuyasha proposed. “Because, I realized a long time ago that you and I have two totally different definitions of the word.”

No, this was a definite problem. Unfortunately, it seemed she’d purchased clothing from one of the retailers that didn’t quite grasp that some woman had thicker asses and thighs. The shorts fit, but they hugged her in places she needed a little more room in. God forbid, she sit down. Then, they’d fit her like underwear.

The band was comfortable along her hips, but felt a little better if she pulled it up a smidge toward her waist. But then the underside of her booty cheeks popped out, and that for sure wasn’t something she could sport in public. Or, she could. She just wouldn’t be comfortable doing so. It wasn’t her style. She preferred a hint of more modesty. Not to mention, the shorts were very tight against her lady bits, and that was definitely something she didn’t want her clothing riding up on.

“Babe.”

“Curse these thighs.”

“Oh, see what I mean?” He chimed from the other side of the door. “That’s the exact opposite of a problem.”

“It’s a problem if the shorts don’t fit, Inuyasha.”

“Show me.”

“They don’t fit.”

“Okay, we’ll return them. But, show me first.”

“Why do you want to see them if they don’t fit?” She laughed lightly.

“Why wouldn’t I? Do I have to spell this out to you every time?” Inuyasha asked, making it obvious that he was feigning irritation.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Alright, first of all, I know you’re ridiculously critical of yourself. I have a more objective point of view, and therefore that makes my opinion the only valid one here.”

“Hey -“

“I’m not finished. Second, I love seeing you in tight clothing. That’s a given. You don’t have to keep it, and you should always wear things you’re comfortable in, but at least do the right thing and let me see first. I think I deserve that much. Third, and most importantly, ass and thighs. Your ass and thighs.” Inuyasha made a chef’s kiss motion even though she couldn’t see, losing himself in the thought of some of his favorite assets of hers. “You know damn well how much I love them. So, please - please - come out and show me, Kagome.”

Behind the door, she fought her smile, losing so quickly it was as if she hardly stood a chance against it. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her body, but he was right. There were some imperfections that had her self-conscious at times, and he knew without saying when they started dating over five months ago that her thighs were one of them. And, she could tell the half demon she called hers genuinely adored everything she deemed unworthy.

Giving a minor adjustment to make sure the area between her thighs had enough room to breathe, she sighed out any apprehension and opened the door. Inuyasha sat on the edge of the bed waiting, golden eyes instantly on her. He skimmed over the way she’d tucked her shirt into the underside of her bra to keep it out of the way, gazed at her tummy for a small moment, then drifted his sights down to the shorts hugging her snuggly.

He barely blinked, his expression practically blanking, and Kagome’s cheeks went red hot.

“Inuyasha?”

“Shh. I’m concentrating.”

Kagome laughed, turning away from him bashfully.

“Shit, no! I wasn’t ready for that!” He cried, pressing the heels of his hands into his temples as if he were in a panic. Her ass. It looked phenomenal. He wasn’t mentally prepared to see just how plump it looked in those bottoms, and it sent his mind reeling.

“What!?” She gasped, her hands instinctually falling to cover her butt as she spun back to face the way she’d originally been.

“Oh my god.” Inuyasha mewled. “Are you kidding me, Kagome!? Where’s the problem!? Where’s the mother fucking problem!? Because, I don’t see it!”

It was thought to be impossible, but she felt her face flush even hotter. So hot, she wanted to hide it, knowing full and well her embarrassment was visible and prominent. She kind of tucked her head down slightly, hoping the dim lighting in his room would be her ally and shade her blush while she presented her issues with the garment of clothing.

“Well, it’s tight on my thighs. See, when I do this -“ She explained as she lifted her leg slightly as if she was going to take a step forward. The bottom hem of her shorts tightened against her quad, squeezing around the plush before riding up an inch. “It’s not very comfortable. I like a bit of a looser fit. And, then my butt. It’s suffocating. I’m scared one wrong move will make these shorts rip.”

“God forbid.”

“Inuyasha, seriously.” She deadpanned.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m listening. Anything else?” He apologized with a grin, conceding.

“Yes. I can’t sit in these.”

“Why not?”

“Too tight.”

“So, you literally can’t sit?”

“No, I mean I’m sure I can. It’s just not a good idea.”

“Because, they’ll rip?”

“That. Or, they’ll turn into chonies.”

“What?”

“Underwear.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you got such versatile clothing. I could have sworn we were nowhere near the lingerie section.”

Kagome laughed through her groan, tossing her head back in minor exasperation due to her boyfriend’s sarcasm. It was going to be hard to describe, and she was sure if she attempted such he’d only throw more jokes her way, so she shut her mouth and decidedly took to demonstrating her vexation. She crossed the floor, hoped for the best, and plopped into a seat right next to Inuyasha. Her thighs fluffed out and her shorts effectively rode all the way up, giving her legs the attention they apparently demanded.

Inuyasha’s eyes were glued to her thighs and the way her clothing wrinkled along her anatomy. He’d had to press his lips into a tight line to prevent their proud and joyful crinkle, but it was so desperately difficult to fend off. Kagome was quick to notice and her brows pinched together, a small pout forming.

“You tricked me.” She murmured. “You wanted me to sit down, didn’t you?”

“I’ll admit, it was a lot easier than I expected it would be.” He said, gently stroking the pads of his fingers over the softness of her legs. “Again, I find it important to remind you that you and I clearly have very different definitions of what a problem is. This… this is not a problem. Not at all.”

“Well, see, I sort of wanted to be able to wear these outside of your apartment.” Kagome giggled, inadvertently melting into his touch. It was so light, it almost tickled, but she felt his warmth radiating from his hand, she felt his attraction, she felt his good-natured and honest feelings toward her body, and it was nothing short of what she both wanted and needed right now.

“I know, I know. We’ll return them and get a larger pair. Still, not a problem.” He grinned, planting his whole palm on her thigh and sliding it inward, shoving it to sit in the heat between. He leaned over and kissed her temple.

“Don’t even think about it.” Kagome hummed, leaning into his tender touch.

“Hm?”

“You’re about to lay down on my thighs, aren’t you?”

“What? I can’t?” The half demon pouted with legitimate shock on his brow.

“The moment you’re down, you’re down. You know damn well you’re not getting up if I let you, and I want to get out of these shorts.”

“But, Kagome -“

“Boy, if you knew exactly how these are constricting certain areas, you’d understand.” She laughed, playfully shoving his hand off of her as she stood. Before walking toward the closet where she’d left her skirt, she turned to face her boyfriend, bending at the waist and pushing his bangs from his forehead to plant a kiss against his skin. “I should get going soon, anyway. It’s getting late.”

“Don’t go, then.” He said, tone gruff as his amber eyes met hers. “Stay with me.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to stay the night, impromptu. Far from it. Every time, though, caused something in her chest to stir, something in her stomach to flutter, something in her bloodstream to effervesce in both a wonderful and unsettling way - the unsettling part deriding from a different emotion she’d recently noticed planting its roots somewhere inside of her. Inuyasha grabbed her hand, running his thumb over the tops of her fingers while his expression shifted to one of seriousness. No jokes, no funny business, no sarcasm was present any longer.

“I don’t feel like I got all the time I wanted with you. Since we were out and about most of the day, I feel like I had to share parts of you with the world, so now that it’s just you and I, I’m not quite ready to let you go. Will you stay?”

Internally, Kagome was telling herself to keep it together. It was such a small gesture, such a tiny request, but it was always the little things he said to her, like this, the mannerisms he displayed when he was sincere, the way his amber eyes met hers when he waited for her answer that had her feeling unstable. Like, she could cry. Like, she was more afraid than she was thirty seconds ago, or an hour ago, or when she saw his smile earlier this afternoon when they met up, or last night, or when she crashed and burned upon realizing what, exactly, it was she felt for Inuyasha a month ago. She swallowed, forcing herself to show none of that as she made a small smile appear on her face.

“Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?”

A grin sprouted on Inuyasha’s lips as he kissed the hand he held, standing to cross over to his dresser.

“You want your favorite, or a different one?” He asked, ignoring the twitch his own sensitive ear gave as the wood scraped open.

“Whichever. Can I take a shower?”

“Of course.” He said in a manner that suggested she knew she didn’t have to ask by now. He was well-acquainted with her routine and how she preferred showers before bed as opposed to first thing in the morning. That, and they’d recently gotten her some extra toiletries to store in his bathroom for times she stayed over. He was equipped for her company, and sooner or later, Kagome was bound to learn that she was more than welcome to treat his place as her own. Her scent, her voice, her contagious laughter were all he needed, and if his apartment was filled with it, Inuyasha couldn’t think of anything that would make him happier.

Kagome took the large band tee the hanyou offered with a grateful smile and snagged some boxers from the top drawer he’d just opened with a playful, little scrunch of her nose before ambling over to the closet to pick up her skirt and reach for a towel on the shelf.

Why? Why was her heart thumping uncontrollably? She was so happy. So, so, so content. But, yet a crippling sensation was crawling its way up her esophagus to make home in her throat; to grow large, and dense, and sit there to make it impossible to swallow any longer. Ever since that night a month ago, when she’d hung up the phone after a goodnight call with Inuyasha - who was traveling at the time for work, was beyond tired, spoke to her in that husky tone she was utterly weak for, and who’d called out of mere courtesy to let her know he’d made it to his destination safely - she hadn’t been feeling secure. Not because of him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, despite their little, bickering spats and his tendency to get a bit jealous over guys she spoke to, he was doing everything right. He wasn’t the one giving her reason to fear. It was her.

It was what she’d been through.

It was something she was so terrified he would turn around and say to her, that it practically debilitated her rational mind.

But, still, the feeling it stemmed from grew and expanded, the tree roots burying themselves in the soil of her heart, and Kagome was positive by now, after thirty days had passed with no decrease but, instead, the exact opposite, that there was no convincing herself that it wasn’t there. Because, every time she saw him smile, every time he held her hand, every time he expressed himself to her, it banged on her walls like an innocent prisoner demanding freedom.

When she was sure her emotions weren’t superficial, when she was positive there was no changing anything on her end, Kagome had to really look within herself to figure out how to maneuver about things. Did she openly tell him? Was there a right time to say these things? She even debated never saying anything at all, and for a good while, she was settled on that option. It wasn’t the right thing to do, though. It was like she was allowing her past, her previous broken heart, to dictate how she expressed affection toward others, and the potential ‘others’ who hadn’t done her wrong didn’t deserve that. Kagome had always been the type to wear her rather large and vulnerable heart on her sleeve. The cage she held it in now, it wasn’t locked. She wanted to put it back where it belonged, but she was so scared, it made her nauseous. The cage door was opened, held cracked from the inside, the weary organ protecting itself behind a barrier that just needed some encouragement to come out from.

Again, she’d wondered to herself countless times: was there a right moment to say something like this? Was there a procedure she needed to follow? She’d said it first last time, and nothing ended in her favor, so maybe she shouldn’t be the one to initiate this topic? Maybe it applied too much pressure? Should she just keep it to herself behind lock and key? Was he going to be receptive? Was it going to scare him away? Please, don’t scare him away. Please, please don’t leave.

And, countless times, she ended up in tears from the crushing weight of it. Kagome knew the truth. She didn’t have to consult anyone to know what the right thing to do was. It didn’t matter how many nights she stared at the ceiling obsessing over right and wrong, this or that, pros and cons, yes and no’s, because in the back of her mind, the answer was right there in big, bold letters. She was just trying to dance around it. It was so stressful. Something that was depicted as a happy and liberating occurrence was reduced to horrifying and anxiety-inducing for her.

The fact of the matter was, no one should have the power to change her heart. More so, Kagome shouldn’t give anyone that power. The way she felt so deeply was, in fact, a good thing. It was. It was. It was a fight just to get herself to understand that again, feeling like she was convincing herself of something she no longer believed, but she knew the only way she would, once more, feel that freedom was to open up. Stop hiding.

The thought was heavy. It didn’t sit comfortably with her. There were certain things Kagome was okay talking about, and there were certain things Kagome would rather eat up, swallow, and take to the grave. But, that was vulnerability, and she understood that if anyone deserved that part of you, it was your partner. Inuyasha was her partner. He was patient. He listened to her about things that made her uneasy, he took into account how she could be both a social butterfly sometimes and introverted during others, how when she was overwhelmed she had a tendency to shut down, how physical touch was her love language, and he even went so far as to ask her how she would prefer he respond to certain predicaments if she were to ever get overstimulated with him around.

Inuyasha had proved time and time again that he not only wanted to experience every side of her, but that he deserved it. He deserved it.

It jostled her to the core as she considered telling him now, her stomach churning, her heart pounding erratically, her bottom lip quivering as she’d learned to expect rejection. It was why she struggled initiating anything. It was why she had trouble saying the words to anyone but herself, “I want.” It was a learned reaction to her past trauma, but Inuyasha, the half dog demon she called hers, the silver-haired man who always did everything he could to make her feel safe while with him, the person who treated her as special as he’d insisted she was, wasn’t the one who’d hurt her. So, she’d decided over a week ago, she was going to do it. She was going to do it and let him know. Best case scenario, it was always nice to hear you’re loved and he may end up appreciating her confession. Worst case, things were going to get awkward and tense and it may end their relationship for good.

Kagome wanted to be Kagome again. Not the person she was before she’d met her ex. Not exactly, at least. She still wanted the lessons she’d learned with him to be applied to who she was. They were valuable, and not everything she learned had her closing off. As an open-minded thinker, she realized that not every wound left a scar, so not everything that happened made her a victim. Some things are just incidents that taught her lessons to take into tomorrow. So, she wanted to return to Kagome, the bright girl who faced her fears, who wore her precious heart on her sleeve, her loved with everything she had no matter what, but who was just a few experiences wiser. But, no one could do that for her. No one could give her that push she needed. It all came from within.

Of course, so did fear. So did nausea. So did that anxious part of her brain that said, “Let’s do it tomorrow, instead. Or, the day after that.”

Kagome took a deep breath, trembling as it may have been, and looked over to her boyfriend. He’d just removed his shirt from over his head, his short, tousled, silver strands appearing slightly messier than before once he was free, and he glanced over his shoulder her way, most likely feeling her eyes on him.

“Inuyasha,” She tried to come off as stable as possible, but there was an obvious waver in her tone that gave her trepidation away.

“Hm?” He hummed, the corners of his lips twitching downward before he dropped his shirt on the floor and faced her better.

“Can I - um…” It was impossible to hold her eyes steady on him, her deep, brown gaze falling to the floor every time she picked them up to look at him. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay. I’m all yours.”

Kagome took another breath, willing her body to stop fidgeting. It was Inuyasha. It was just Inuyasha. As soon as she realized there was no stilling her fingers beneath the clothes and towel she held, or the way she bit hard into the inside of her bottom lip, she felt the best course of action was to simply carry on; wavering eye contact, trembling fingers, quivering lips, and all.

“Let me first preface this with: please don’t say anything. Just let me get it out there. I don’t expect anything from you in return, there’s no pressure whatsoever, and I would rather you not say anything at all. Like, at all. Okay?”

Truthfully, Inuyasha was freaked out. Had something happened? Was she about to admit to something bad? Kagome looked about ready to breakdown and cry, and the fact that she was asking for him to remain completely silent only told him she was afraid of judgement. Never had she asked him to stay quiet before. And, he hated how apprehensive his girlfriend looked right now. His instinct was to solve the problem, so what was he supposed to do here but agree to her terms?

“What’s going on, Kagome?”

“Please?”

“Alright. I won’t talk. Now, spill.”

She pinched the back of her wrist to stay grounded, to keep from crying. God, she was so pathetically nervous, and three times now, she’d almost convinced herself to back out and pretend it was a joke. That wouldn’t be right, though. She wanted to cry so bad and she hadn’t even said anything yet, so she pinched herself harder, her nails incidentally digging in. As soon as she felt a degree of control fall back into her grasps, Kagome leveled her gaze at him.

The words sat on her tongue, weighted with the shackles she’d placed there herself. A lump had formed and solidified in her throat, clinging for dear life and making everything so much harder than it needed to be. God, she was really shaking. Her breathing was becoming unsteady as if she’d already started crying and she could feel her expression crinkling into something terribly sad. She knew that was how she appeared only from the way Inuyasha’s lips parted, how his brows curved in worry, how he wanted to reach for her but seemed so confused that he could only stand there and wait.

Like a bandaid. Once the words were out, it wouldn’t be so bad anymore. She just had to get through it.

“Um - I - I - I am -“ The stammering was relentless, and out of sheer obstinance, Kagome shied away for one moment, took a short breath, huffed it out, then faced him again. “I’m in love with you.”

There was a slight arch to his brow, and his chin inched to the side minutely. Very slowly, Inuyasha’s lips sealed and his gaze hardened, falling to the ground. Hastily, Kagome followed her confession with disclaimers, irrevocably panicking.

“A-and, I don’t expect you to say it back! You don’t have to say a word about it! There’s no pressure at all, Inuyasha! I swear!” With each statement, he seemed to be growing more and more tense, and Kagome was terrified she was only making matters worse, but she blinked profusely so her tears didn’t have the chance to breach the brim of her lids. “I just wanted you to know. So, yeah. Now you know.” Her voice had fallen to a hitch just above a whisper at that point, admonished.

Inuyasha kept his promise. He didn’t speak. Kagome was stiff in her spot, not quite knowing what move to make next. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. It was hard to think beyond her admittance in the first place. It was too quiet, and she could hear the clock in the living room loudly ticking seconds by.

“Just nod or shake your head; do you still want me to stay?” She asked sheepishly.

Finally, Inuyasha’s glowing stare rose to hers again, and it frighteningly seemed to grow harder, more tense. She saw the rigid muscles of his jaw clench, and his chest rose with the very slow inhale he took through his nose. Steadily, the hanyou responded with a firm nod. In the next moment, he gestured for her to head down the hall to the bathroom with a notch of his chin, which she wasted no time in complying to. Kagome bit her lip, hard, shakily turned on her heel, and left Inuyasha alone in the room.

The second he heard the bathroom door lock and the shower turn on, Inuyasha dropped his seat on the bed, crumbling forward as he braced his forehead in his hands, elbows jabbing into his thighs. His chest was physically aching, his throat tight, and Inuyasha felt thoroughly crushed. He could literally see the fear in her eyes, the anxiety holding her by the neck. Why? Had he given her some reason to worry? Had he made it seem like that was a taboo topic?

It didn’t take long to rationalize. Logically, he knew it wasn’t him. It wasn’t personal. And, he knew that because he knew exactly how it felt to be afraid of unadulterated vulnerability. It felt like you were naked, exposed to the world, trusting someone with something so valuable and important when you weren’t even sure if you could trust yourself with something like that. It was hard. It was nerve wracking.

But, there was something deeper to it.

Why else would she insist he didn’t respond? It was clear as day. He knew that feeling. He’d been hurt before, too. They’d been together for almost half a year, he knew a good portion of her story, and she knew just as much about his. It was impossible to know it all quite yet, though. Five, six months may seem like a long time to some, but it’s honestly nothing in retrospect. They’re just scratching the surface. He knew the general aspects about her abusive father, he knew she had an emo phase in high school, he knew the superficial shit like her favorite colors, foods, drinks, what medications she needed to take and how often, he knew how she tasted, her tickle spots, where the heating pads were stashed in her apartment - because she had multiple for easy accessibility depending on what room she was in while she was down for the count on her period, and he knew she’d had her heart broken before. But, he didn’t know every little detail about certain things yet.

Inuyasha had had his heart broken before, as well. He knew that feeling. He knew how gruesome and tedious it was to start over, how awful the idea of opening up all over again was, how awkward and weary it felt to tiptoe around specific subjects until you felt comfortable enough describing them, so on and so forth. He knew. Just, apparently, not as well as Kagome did. He was willing to guess that her heart wasn’t just broken. It was trampled on.

His most recent relationship was up and down. He and his ex were never on the same page. He fell quickly but his feelings were unrequited. Then, later on, she began to show more affection, but he’d become closed off by the time that came. Nevertheless, neither of them spoke those words. They never truly opened up about what they felt, how they felt, or why they felt anything, especially romantically. Up until now, Inuyasha had never heard the words, “I’m in love with you.”

Up until recently, Inuyasha had never felt the urge to say, “I’m in love with you.”

No.

That’s wrong.

Sure, recent was a broad term, but it happened several months ago. Several months too soon, he’d deemed. Kagome was playing with his niece, teaching the six year-old how to use a toy compass she’d brought home from class, and congratulating her excitedly whenever Rin got something right. His niece wasn’t shy by any means. She was talkative, playful, bubbly, and bright. But, she had this thing about being touched. She didn’t like it. Only certain somebodies could hold her, hugs were off the table unless you were one of four people, high fives were a maybe, and yet he watched the little girl ask Kagome to watch a movie with her when she was done with the compass, cuddle up next to her on the couch, and fall asleep on her lap without persuasion.

That was it. Kagome respected Rin’s autonomy and boundaries, and Rin let her in by the third time they’d met.

And, Inuyasha fell. Hard.

Again, too soon. So, not saying it was easy. No big deal. After a while, it sort of began spilling out in his idiosyncrasies, in the way he touched her, worshipped her, in the way he craved the knowledge on how to properly care for her. In his terms, he was being painfully obvious. It was almost humiliating how obvious he was being.

It just looks like it wasn’t obvious enough. How could he have expected her to understand? It’s not like she was fluent in his body language or habits. At this point, if she needed it spelled out to her, he’d happily do so.

Because, despite her overwhelming and damn near crippling fear she’d just waded through, Kagome still told him the truth. Kagome courageously stood there, attempted to look him in the eyes, and told him she loved him, no matter how scared or nervous she appeared. If he needed to say it back in order for her to understand, he could return the gesture without hesitation.

First, though, he needed to comprehend what was going through that head of hers. He wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. This wasn’t the time to do so. What she was feeling, that look in her eyes, it stemmed from something deep, something that wasn’t quite healed. He needed, desperately needed, to know what happened. He’d promised to keep his mouth shut earlier, but he hadn’t promised how long he’d hold that. She may have meant about that topic entirely, but that was something he couldn’t and wouldn’t agree to. There was no way in hell he was going to let this slide. Eventually, they were going to have to discuss this.

Now was that time.

Inuyasha suddenly stood, filled with a rage that had surfaced as soon as she shakily asked him if he still wanted her to stay, feeling so irate that he could only clench his fists and pace the floor. There was a good fucking chance this originated with her ex. Maybe her father, but his gut told him otherwise. The things he knew about that relationship were vague. Kagome didn’t like to fixate on it, which was reasonable for anyone who’d moved on, and they never really found a good time to open up about nitty gritty details pertaining to failed relationships; they were more focused on one another and their individual lives. He was fuming. What the fuck had that motherfucker done?

He knew they broke up over two years ago. He knew he’d dumped her just before their anniversary. He knew their relationship wasn’t entirely horrible, but much like he and his own ex-girlfriend, they were rarely on the same page. That’s about it, though. He’d heard a thing or two about how she’d realized way after they’d broken up just how toxic their relationship actually was - one of those late night, shower-thought epiphanies - but she never much elaborated. Hell, she talked about it all so rarely, Inuyasha had even forgotten the fucker’s name. He was her ex-boyfriend so that naturally deemed him irrelevant, because Inuyasha was her current boyfriend and that was all that fucking mattered. But, now he wished he remembered because it would make it at least a little easier to track the bitch ass down and punch his lights out.

She’d opened the door, and he needed to know what was on the other side of it. Inuyasha not only craved, but found it a foundational necessity to understand what had her so anxious to tell him how she felt. First, he recognized he needed to calm down. He couldn’t approach this with heightened emotion because it would cause Kagome to feel insecure and unsafe, which he would never allow her to feel around him.

That was hard for him to do, though. To swallow his frustration, push it aside. He felt things passionately, much like Kagome did. For her, for the light he always looked to for a sense of peace and felicity, for the woman he respected and cherished, he would do it. He could do it.

It took a moment, but Inuyasha left his room and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water to sip on and an extra one for his girlfriend. The shower had stopped running moments ago, and the hairdryer was now blowing. She was biding time. Kagome, more often than not, let her hair air dry. This was killing him. The fact that she was so afraid, so nervous, the fact that she felt anything but contentment in the face of pure and unbridled emotion. Inuyasha just wanted to burst through the bathroom door and tell her to stop, demand she look him in the eyes and say it again and watch how he would never turn away from her. What could he have possibly said that had her more content with silence?

Content wasn’t what she’d felt at all though, was it? Even after he’d kept his mouth shut, Kagome was still trembling, still incredibly uncomfortable.

He was going to the bottom of this.

But, something in his heart wrenched. Overall, he just hoped with everything he had that she didn’t regret telling him.

There was careful deliberation on where he should wait for her. He’d debated standing outside the bathroom door to guide her back with him, but that would apply a lot of pressure straight from a safe zone. There was always the option to sit on the couch until she emerged, but still, he was worried she’d feel like she was under a spotlight. No matter what, Inuyasha was going to be taking her back into his bedroom. It was cozy and comfortable, and he just wanted to fucking hold her. The best course of action was to let Kagome come to him. When she was ready. No matter how much patience wasn’t his virtue. So, he ambled back through the doorway with both water bottles in hand, placing them on the nightstand as he got himself into more comfortable clothing. He’d never finished changing after dropping his shirt on the floor. He grabbed his grey sweats off the end of the bed and shoved his legs into them after removing his jeans, then fished a black tank top out of his dresser, easily and quickly pulling it over his head.

It wasn’t a bad thing that she’d told him. Kagome should be proud of herself. Over and over again, she’d repeated that in her head, but she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she’d done something wrong. Maybe she’d put him on the spot and made him uncomfortable. She should have at least given him the space to tell her he wasn’t ready to say it back if that was how he felt. That she would have completely and wholeheartedly understood without fault.

Now she was stuck in an unknown area, her head was foggy, her fingers kept trembling, and her eyes were puffy from crying like a baby in the shower. The goal was to tell him how she felt. It was a step in the right direction. A step toward who she truly was behind the protective walls. From this point on, depending on how Inuyasha was feeling, it might be best to pretend nothing happened. Sweep it under the rug.

Everything was so conflicting, so turbulent, and Kagome could bring herself to do nothing but stare at the bathroom doorknob. Her hair was dry, she was dressed in her borrowed outfit, smelling purely of Inuyasha, and even though he still wanted her to stay, she couldn’t believe anything other than the possibility that she’d ruined everything.

What would happen once she exited the bathroom? Would things be uncomfortable? Would he be laying down in bed, facing the wall away from her, silent? Would he ignore her? Would he say something she was terrified to hear right now? Or, was she trapped in her unhealthy thoughts? Was she preparing a response to something that wasn’t waiting for her outside that door? Was she not giving Inuyasha the opportunity to respond in his own, organic way, expecting all the responses she was trained to anticipate before?

With a deep breath, Kagome reached for the knob, twisting it to exit. The apartment was as quiet as it was when she locked herself inside, the clock in the living room ticking loudly as she slowly sauntered through. Lights were dim, but the bedroom, through the opened door, was inhabited. The lamps shaded the white walls in warm hues, and as she got closer she noticed a very soft hum of music playing through the bluetooth speakers he had set up in there, quiet but still melodic and comforting.

Though her heart was pounding and a jittery sensation within her chest was causing her to tread cautiously, she followed the path into his bedroom, spotting Inuyasha sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He was quick to notice her presence, sitting up and glancing at her, and even though she faked a smile with a curious notch of her head, it was clear he saw right through her. How wouldn’t he? If he already didn’t know her so well, it was obvious she wouldn’t go from cripplingly apprehensive before her shower to sweet and happy immediately after.

Inuyasha noticed the pink in her cheeks, the stupidly cute but feigned upturn of her plush lips, the way her deep eyes bounced away from him before coming right back only to repeat the same motions. His Kagome. His sweet, hurting, beautiful Kagome.

With an arch of his brow, the hanyou wagged his finger at her, ushering her over to sit on his lap. She was hesitant at first. She knew what was coming, but still, despite her slight discomfort, he released a small, breathy chuckle so she knew he wasn’t upset with her.

“C’mere.” He requested softly, patting his thighs.

“What?” Kagome returned, unsure.

“I want you. C’mere.”

Slowly, she crossed the floor, accepting her boyfriend’s support as she straddled his lap and got comfortable. An uncontrollable pout formed on her face when he looked into her eyes, she felt it, and humiliation washed over her, causing her to hide her expression between his shoulder and neck.

Inuyasha was patient, making sure she was secure in her seat before his hands traveled over her. At first, he couldn’t help but hug her tight. In this moment, Kagome seemed so fragile and he could already feel her body shaking against him. She knew he was going to talk whether she liked it or not.

Still, he gave her a little more time, relaxing against him, her chest melting on his, her arms wrapped around his shoulders but accepting his full support as his hands rubbed over her back soothingly.

“You want to tell me what happened back there?” He asked, opening back up the topic.

“Did I do it wrong?” Kagome spoke, her voice small.

“I’m not worried about right and wrong here, baby. Can you look at me for a second?”

Carefully, Kagome leaned back, giving him the attention he requested. His large, warm hands cradled her jaw, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, his eye contact firm.

“I never want you to be afraid to tell me something, okay? Especially, how you feel.”

Immediately, Kagome began to crumble. Her cheeks grew hot and her lips twitched downward sadly. Tears too quickly threatened her eyes, and Kagome was hasty to hide her face in his shoulder again.

“I need you to talk to me, Kagome. What’s going on?” He asked, returning to rubbing her back. In the silence as he waited, he picked up the back hem of the large shirt she wore, pushing his hands beneath so he could gently massage her skin. The heat from her, the softness, he craved it right now. “Was it something I did?”

Kagome fervently shook her head against him.

“I’m never going to understand unless you tell me, baby. That wasn’t the normal amount of nervousness you’d expect when saying something like that. So, what’s going on?”

“I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to say it back if you weren’t ready.” Kagome sniffled, hugging him tighter.

“Okay, I get that. And, what else?”

“That’s all.”

“You can’t lie to me.”

“Can we just pretend nothing happened and go back to our happy date night?” She whined playfully.

“Unfortunately, no.” Inuyasha chuckled, catching her small attempt at laughing off her problems. “I can’t do that while you’re crying on me, Kagome.”

“I’m not crying.” She sniffled again.

“Oh? You’re not?”

“Nope. These are just allergies.”

“And, what are you suddenly allergic to?”

“Feelings.” Kagome giggled, though she began crying harder, only because her boyfriend was being sweet and obviously getting through to her. She both hated and loved it at the same time.

Inuyasha kissed her shoulder, holding her a little tighter as his hand slipped higher up her bare back. The curve from her little slouch against him had her spine popping out slightly, and ever so softly, Inuyasha traced his fingers over the bones.

“What were you so afraid of me saying?” He all but whispered.

Mustering up some courage, Kagome leaned back, using one hand to meagerly clear her messy face of tears. She took a few unsteady breaths before speaking, her eyes falling to the hem of the collar of his black top, and she allowed her fingers to distractingly drag along it.

“I didn’t want you to tell me you loved me if you weren’t ready or felt pressured, because I don’t want you to take it back later on.”

The hanyou’s brows furrowed inquisitively and he was unable to bite back the reaction of his head cocking to the side in bemusement.

“What?” He almost hissed. “Why would I do that?”

Kagome didn’t answer, continuing to play with the shirt he wore.

“Kagome, why are you afraid of that happening? Don’t tell me -“ Inuyasha had to tense his breath in his lungs to refrain from letting his upset get the better of him. “Did your ex…?”

She responded with the littlest nod, worrying her bottom lip incessantly. “Multiple times.”

“Multiple times?” He echoed on an exhale, his expression widening. His hands were holding her hips, squeezing as comfortingly as possible, but Inuyasha was struck cold. Not only had someone shattered her, but someone managed to look at this woman on top of him and take back their love on more than one occasion? This girl? How? He’d only had her for half a year and he was scared shitless of losing her, so it didn’t make any fucking sense that someone would just toss her aside like that as if she meant nothing.

Slowly, Kagome curled forward, tucking herself against his shoulder. It was like a safety net. Inuyasha was so warm, he held her perfectly every time she felt emotional and vulnerable. As much as she didn’t want to talk about this, she knew this topic would come up eventually. It was a staple of her by now, something she was clearly conditioned to expect after years of receiving it, and even before she fell in love with the man stroking her back beneath her shirt, she knew this issue would arise. It wasn’t going to be easy or quick to work through, that was a given, and she knew he was ultimately going to need to know some of the toxic occurrences of her previous relationship; things that were done to her and things she’d done, as well. She’d considered it was going to be something he’d want clarity on as soon as she admitted her feelings. It was fair. Being on the other end of things, he deserved to know what she’d been through and why she inadvertently responded the way she had.

It was just hard. It was hard to think about and hard to talk about.

But, if she could power through her fear of admitting her feelings, then she could give him everything else, too. It was another step in the right direction, no matter how unsteady the pathway seemed.

“I told him I loved him first, and he responded by telling me I shouldn’t. He was my first love, so I didn’t really know how to react or what to say to that. It’s not like I could just take it back or agree or something.”

“Right.” Inuyasha almost hummed, listening intently to her explanation as he kissed her shoulder here and there.

“Almost a year later, he told me he was falling in love with me. A few months after that, he took it back and said he wasn’t so sure anymore since we’d been arguing.”

The half demon couldn’t control his reaction to hold Kagome a little tighter. It was like an attempt to protect her from things he knew he couldn’t begin to protect her from. If he could control it, no one would ever speak to her like that. No one would ever hurt her this way. No one would ever be able to apply that pressure to her shoulders, because how could she not feel obligated to be perfect and compliant in order to feel valued and cherished?

“Then, I don’t know how long later, he told me he loved me again. It stayed consistent for a while. He’d tell me periodically, particularly when I did nice things for him or if I said it first. Then, again, he ended up taking it back. I had felt it that time and asked him if he still loved me. He said, ‘I don’t know.’ Followed by,” Kagome’s fingers clutched Inuyasha’s shirt, exhaling tremblingly, though she had been doing so well at keeping it together. “‘Maybe soon I’ll love you again, though.’ So, I idiotically stayed. I held onto that hope. I waited and waited until we got into this stupid fight and he broke up with me the next day. He made sure to emphasize that he didn’t love me. But, said he might in the future, we’d just need to stay friends. ‘You never know what the future stores.’”

God, Inuyasha wanted to kill him.

“There was one night after we finally found separate places, we were packing, getting ready to move out of our shared apartment, and we were talking about old things. He told me he never loved me. And, I just never understood why things went on for so long just because he wasn’t sure. Why would you say it if you didn’t? Why couldn’t he have let me go sooner? What good was I if he didn’t even want me there? I wasn’t strong enough to leave, but he was because he literally hung that over my head for most of the time we were together, threatening me with leaving if I didn’t do something right. I have so many things to work through because of him, so many trauma responses to correct, trust issues that I’m projecting unto you, and he walked away like nothing ever happened.” Kagome cried, once again shaking against Inuyasha.

All he could do was kiss her, hush her soothingly, hold her tight, rub the hot flesh of her back. Let her cry. He understood now. He got it. It was why she struggled to take compliments the first time around. It was why she second-guessed sweet gestures. It was why she assumed everything was sarcastic and insincere. It was why she thought her love for him was problematic. She didn’t want him to say anything because she was scared of the words, “I love you.” They meant nothing to some people, they were used as tools, and so easily, they could be erased. Sad thing was, Inuyasha was sure that even if he said the words right here and now, she wouldn’t even believe him.

“Of course, he’s obviously not the sole reason for why I am the way that I am. Can’t give him credit for everything.” Kagome gave a wet giggle, again laughing through her problems. Her coping mechanisms were all over the place, but it was still cute.

Inuyasha sighed defeatedly, laughing lightly as he rested his head on her shoulder.

“So,” He breathed. “You didn’t want me to say anything because you figured nothing was better than something I could hurt you with.”

Her silence was as good as confirmation.

Inuyasha pulled her in firmer, an arm supporting her low back as he picked her up, rotated their bodies, crawled a little further on the bed, and laid her beneath him on the mattress. He had a knee between her legs, but rested on her side, an elbow propping him up while he used his free hand to gently swipe her tears away.

“It was more because I didn’t want you to feel pressured.” Kagome finally spoke after moments of peaceful silence, taking the opportunity he provided to calm down before continuing. “But, then I started to panic. I felt like this is supposed to be a good thing, right? Not everyone is going to respond the way he does, right? I just wanted to tell you so bad. It’s supposed to be a good thing, but I got trapped in my head thinking history would only repeat itself.”

“Baby, are you sure you were ready to tell me?” Inuyasha inquired, dragging his finger along her temple to clean the tears that followed gravity.

She nodded, her bottom lip quivering. “It’s bad enough that I’m afraid of love. I didn’t want to allow myself to sink and be afraid to love, too. That’s not me. I feel like I’d only be letting him stick around in my mind if I did that, but I just want to love you. I do.” Kagome cried, eyes falling away from him. “I wanted you to know, and I’ve been holding onto it long enough.”

Inuyasha leaned his head down, kissing her shoulder. It wasn’t enough for him. He needed to feel her skin beneath his lips so he pulled the baggy collar away so he could leave a tender and invisible mark on her clavicle.

“How long?” The hanyou breathed.

“A month or so.” She matched his soft tone, trying to steady her lungs and bring herself back to a calm. “The night you went on your business trip.”

“Europe?”

“Mhm.”

“Not too bad. It was the groggy voice, huh?”

Though her eyes were still wet and the hair at the sides of her temples were soaked, her cheeks flushed, Kagome glanced back over to him with a hint of surprise. “How’d you know?”

“Because, I knew I’d get a response from you. Always do.” He smirked, planting sweet kisses against her cheek, and moving up to kiss tears away.

“You know I like that?”

“It’s my job to read you like a book, baby. I take my work very seriously. You’re subtle, but I see things I do that you like. You’ve got little mannerisms that give you away.”

“Like what?”

He hummed a decline. “I’m not giving that secret to you. Let me have this. You know what I will tell you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you promise to hear me out? No interrupting, okay? Just listen to me.”

There was an increase in the tension that climbed through her muscles, and her pout turned weary. Inuyasha took a moment to continue kissing her temple, her cheekbone, his palm finding its way beneath her shirt to softly stroke her tummy. When she relaxed a little, he leaned back to look at her.

“Remember that day Rin took a nap with you? I stayed up that night. Couldn’t sleep. I had you here next to me, and I just couldn’t stop listening to the sound of your breathing. I was scared shitless, but the crazy fucking part was, even though you weren’t awake, having you right here helped keep me calm. It was counterintuitive. I was both scared of you and at peace with you. I wanted you to wake up and do that thing where you tickle the small of my back with your fingers because, god, nothing feels better than that. It was like you held all of me in the palm of your hands, and you could easily drop it in the trash at any given moment. But, it’s you. I knew you wouldn’t. That was my night, though. That was the moment I realized I was in love with you.”

Kagome hardened slightly, and he could literally hear how hard her heart was thumping within her chest. She didn’t smile, didn’t frown, didn’t make much of any expression really, aside from her brows giving a minor, inward twitch.

“That was quite a few months ago. Nothing’s changed. If anything, it’s gotten deeper. I’m so worried one day you’ll walk out those doors and never come back. I don’t want to lose you just as badly as you don’t want to lose me.” He was the one to hide his face this time, tucking it within her neck as he threaded his arms around her back, holding her close. He hadn’t expected her to clutch him in return, but she did. Immediately. Kagome supported him through his own moment of vulnerability, but more importantly, he felt it was a way to communicate her reception. “I don’t care how many times I have to say it until you begin to believe me. I don’t care what I have to do to make you feel secure in our relationship. I’ll do it all. You know I don’t say shit unless I mean it.”

“I believe you.” Kagome whispered, a small hiccup at the tale end that jostled her chest. “That’s the scary part.”

He nodded again, pulling away to gently press his forehead to hers for a moment.

“I get it.” Inuyasha breathed before leaning back to look her in the eyes. “But, one of these days you’ll understand that no matter what happens, I won’t take a damn thing back. You’ll see that I don’t want it back. I feel like my heart’s safer with you, anyway.”

“Stop it.” She pouted, but he knew that was her way of conceding. Even as she cried a little harder and tucked herself into his chest so he couldn’t see it. “You’re being too sweet. Be mean to me again.”

Inuyasha chuckled, raising his hand, “As you wish.” He said, smacking it down against her butt.

The little yelp she released was so sad but adorable as she flinched away from the sting, but it inadvertently brought her to cuddle closer to him. The hanyou laughed, brushing his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp.

“Can you do something for me?” He asked.

“Hm?” She grumbled into his chest.

“Tell me again. This time look right at me. Don’t look away, don’t fidget, just trust me. That was my first time hearing it. I gotta hear it straight.”

She hadn’t realized Inuyasha hadn’t heard the words before. She didn’t know that. This was big for him too, if not bigger. Was she his first love? Was she the first person he’d ever said that to? Kagome felt a warmth course through her, and even though she was slightly nervous, she didn’t feel unsteady. Not while he held her. Not while his amber eyes were above her, watching her with an emotion she’d never before seen. She came out of hiding with a level of ease she hadn’t felt a moment ago, secure, one of his hands lightly trailing her side beneath her borrowed shirt.

Her fingers had a mind of their own, reaching for his cheek as she softly caressed it, her thumb tenderly rubbing over his bottom lip. “I love you, Inuyasha.”

It was like a sigh of relief left his lungs, and the corners of his mouth inched upward. His eyes were hooded with affection, and he leaned down to kiss her, lingering on her soft lips.

“Your turn.” Kagome whispered as he pulled away, her brown eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips.

It felt incredible that she wanted to hear it now. And, though he knew everything was going to take time until she felt comfortable with the idea that he wouldn’t take a damn thing back, he knew it would take time to work through her trust issues little-by-little, he didn’t mind. Because, she was his and he was hers, and he was all too happy to hold her hand and walk by her side while they figured everything out. He couldn’t fix this for her. He hated that he couldn’t take her pain away. That’s not how it worked, though. He knew this. She knew this. Inuyasha was her partner through everything, and he’d be the best fucking partner he could be.

He grinned with their foreheads pressed together, his hand on her waist gripping tighter as he couldn’t help but chuckle from sheer bliss. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you.”

Kagome smiled, pushing Inuyasha over to roll on top, once more straddling his hips as she gazed down at him. She wanted to burn this image of him in her mind. She never wanted to forget that soft look in his eyes, or the way he reached up and tenderly wiped away any remaining tears that stained her face. He meant it. She believed him. And, she hoped with everything inside of her that he never took it away from her.

She curled down, cuddling into her chest and Inuyasha immediately turned his head to kiss her forehead. He held her close, gently stroking her hair back and basking in her incredibly comforting heat. He loved her. He loved her so goddamn much. His Kagome.

“What do you need right now, baby?”

“Nothing.” She hummed.

“What do you want, then.”

He knew she struggled with that one, but whenever he asked, she did her best to communicate properly. “Touch my butt again.”

Inuyasha laughed huskily, his hands gliding down her back to take a firm and wonderful hold on her ass.

“And, pizza.”

“Oh, see, I’m a step ahead of you on that one. Ordered a couple before you got out of the shower.”

Kagome gave a short half whine - half squeal of happiness as she cuddled in closer and kissed his neck. “Thank you.”

#inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #Inukag fanfiction #stay #akitokihojo #hurt/comfort #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #Inukag fanfic #Inukag fic

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halloweenhoneylover · 4 years

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serendipity

summary: spencer cannot wait to propose, but you accidentally beat him to it (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 5k

warnings: some language! some minor angst!

author’s note: this is 100% based on one of my favorite episodes of new girl (google doc name is winston bishop type shit), also this is mega self-indulgent so if u don’t like dinosaurs and/or ferns i’m sorry :/

You let out a satisfied hum. Everything was quite nearly perfect. Presently, you were sitting on a bench next to the little duck pond in the park by your apartment, and you watched as tendrils of the weeping willow grazed the surface, sending gentle ripples across the water. It seemed to glow in the dappled sunlight. An adorable duck family was nestled into some of the reeds, and your heart was happy as you watched the mother tending to her ducklings. This was your favorite spot in the entire city.

“Hey, Spence?” Your head rested on his shoulder as he read one of the Ray Bradbury novels that he loved dearly. You weren’t sure which one he was on now; he’d been determined to read his entire collection this weekend and had been flying through.

“Yes, dear?” His eyes didn’t leave the pages, but you didn’t mind.

“What do you call a group of ducks?”

“There’s a couple names actually. It can be called a raft, team, or paddling; it’s a matter of preference.” Finally, he shifted his gaze toward you, and he couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The flush of your cheeks and the wisps of your hair, he was so incredibly enamored, he loved you so much. And he was so excited to let you know so soon, but not quite yet.

“I think I like paddling.”

“Yeah, me too.” Shutting his eyes to revel in this moment, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Hey, Spence?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you wanna get married?”

What.

Spencer floundered in the absolute contradiction of feelings that he found himself submerged in in that moment. Ice flooded his veins, and his face heated. His blood pressure skyrocketed, and oh God, it’s not supposed to happen like this. Yes, he loves her terribly, and yes, he absolutely wants to marry her, but he had a plan! An incredibly intricate and thoughtful twenty-two step plan that was going to take place over the course of the next month. It was all laid out in an entire binder in his desk. All he could muster in response was an extremely eloquent, “Uh—well, uh—”

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, you finally lifted your head to look at him with the biggest heart eyes he’s ever seen, and he can’t help but feel so, so guilty. “I just thought, why not, you know? Spencer, I love you a whole lot, and I’m pretty sure you love me a whole lot too. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I want the rest of my life to start right now.”

“No.”

Judging by the look on your face, that was clearly not the answer you were expecting. “No?”

“Uh, yeah, no.” God, stupid dumb idiot, telling the girl you want to marry that you don’t want to marry her. What’s the point of having 187 IQ points if you use exactly none of them when it actually matters?

“No, you don’t want to marry me?” Your heart dropped into your stomach and was falling further and further every passing second.

“Wait no, hold on—”

“No, I get it,” you choked out, hastily standing up from the bench. “Actually, I don’t get it, but that doesn’t really matter, I guess.” You jammed your arms into the sleeves of your jacket, so you could get out of this moment as soon as humanly possible. Holy shit, had you been blind-sided. “Um, I think I’m gonna go hang out with Penelope, might spend the night, I’m not sure. Enjoy your book.” And with that, you were speeding down the path out of the park.

“Wait, (Y/N/N)!” Spencer tried to gather his belongings to run after you, but you had a head start, and he couldn’t gather all of the books in his arms fast enough. Leave the books!!! Go after her!!! But you had already turned the corner and were out of sight.

With his books finally secure, Spencer sprinted in the direction of your shared apartment. He needed to fix this. And fast.

———

Morgan sat at his desk peacefully looking over the plans for a house he was renovating when the phone rang, and he couldn't help but internally groan at the sound. If Hotch is calling on his weekend off, so help him God, he would hang up and chuck the phone out the window.

Instead, he was met with Garcia’s voice, which was so loud he had to pull the phone away from his ear. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, mama. Let’s take it down a few notches.”

“Alright, fine, babycakes,” she hissed, and Derek was shocked at the unfamiliar venom in her tone. “Would you please be so kind as to explain to me why your dear friend Reid is the most evil, most reprehensible, most despicable—”

“Garcia, what are you talking about?”

“You mean that little rat boy hasn’t come crawling to you explaining his crimes?”

Despite his infinite patience for her antics, he sighed quietly. “I’m in the dark, baby girl, but I’m sure whatever Reid did, it can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it can be that bad! He told (Y/N) that he didn’t want to marry her.”

“He did what?” Derek’s eyes were practically popping out of his head at the news. There’s no way that happened.

“He said that he didn’t want to marry our precious lily flower (Y/N)! I love that boy, but now, (Y/N) is here bawling her eyes out on my couch, and I don’t know what to do!”

His heart broke a little at the thought of his friend being so devastated, but he couldn’t help the roaring confusion that plagued him. Derek knew that Spencer was planning to propose to you; he’d seen the binder. He’d even been recruited to help with Steps 4, 9, 10, and 18!

Oh.

And that’s when Derek had a sneaking suspicion as to what had occurred. “Penelope, were his exact words ‘I don’t want to marry—” But his attention was drawn away from the phone by a knock on the door.

Speak of the devil….

“Garcia, I gotta go, but tell (Y/N) everything’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna have a word with our boy.”

“Oh my God, is he there with you?! That little bastard—” He hung up before her words could become any sharper, and the knocking became frantic.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” He jogged to go unlock the door. “You’re gonna knock the door down, kid.”

The door swung open to reveal Spencer, huffing and puffing with a red face and a binder in arm. “Morgan, I am the stupidest man to ever walk the Earth.”

“Did you run here?”

Ignoring the question, he pushed past him with an agitated step. “I am a complete idiot, a dumbass, if you will.”

Morgan shut the door and crossed his arms, walking to stand opposite Reid who had sat on the couch with his head in his hands. “Yeah, I might agree with you on that one. Garcia called me, told me (Y/N) is crying on her couch ‘cause you told her you didn’t want to marry her, which I know is not true.”

“I didn’t say that!” he cried, gesticulating wildly. “Not exactly. She asked me if I wanted to get married—”

“And what did you say?”

His hesitation was palpable. “...No.”

“Yeah, I’d say that constitutes dumbass behavior, especially because I know you only said that because you have your proposal all planned out, and you want it to be perfect.”

“Morgan, you don’t get it,” he implored, the desperation evident in his eyes, and Derek finally started feeling a little bad for the kid, an inkling of sympathy squirming in his gut. “No one deserves the most perfect proposal more than (Y/N). No one. You know how she’s always felt unwanted, and she’s told me that she felt like she always has to ask for love, and I couldn’t let her feel like that with me. I had to make sure that she had a special proposal because she’s special. And I want her to know without having to ask that I want her more than anything else in this world.”

Reid looked down at the toes of his scuffed Converse, hoping that he hadn’t permanently fucked up his best chance at happiness, and Morgan’s expression softened. “I know, kid. And I’m not trying to rub salt in the wound, but you do know that this was not the best way of letting her know that she’s wanted and loved?”

“Yes, I know, Morgan,” he muttered, voice breaking around the slug in his throat. “I wasn’t thinking.”

A sigh. “No, you weren’t. But I’m gonna help you fix it.”

Reid looked up with wide eyes. “Really?”

“You both deserve to be happy...even if you make some pretty stupid choices sometimes.”

Reid didn’t think he’d ever felt so grateful for his friend, and he offered a smile in gratitude. “Thanks. But I don’t even know where to start.”

Quirking an eyebrow and returning with a grin, Morgan picked up the binder from the table where it had been set. “I’ve got a couple ideas.”

———

“How is she doing?”

“Erm, it’s not looking great,” Garcia responded.

She was openly hostile when Reid had called her (he’d never been on the receiving end of Garcia’s wrath (so few people had been), and he was sure that was something he never wanted to experience again), but she’d finally restrained herself and offered a little empathy (not a lot though, she was too loyal to (Y/N) for that) when he had explained himself. However, when she’d been informed of the plan to apologize, regain your love and trust and to maybe, just maybe, ask for your hand in marriage, she had wholeheartedly avowed her support and pledged her help despite still being a little miffed at boy genius’ idiocy.

“She’s been sitting on the floor of the bathroom for an hour listening to Landslide on repeat and crying, so I would say she’s, um…not well.”

Spencer winced at that, and he felt physically sick at the thought that you were hurting because of him. His heart clenched unbearably, and he wished so badly that he could take back his words and just say yes, but unfortunately for him, time is linear, and he was just going to have to do his best to fix things.

“I just need a couple more hours to get everything ready.”

“Well, hurry up, pretty boy! I love our girl immensely, but if I have to hear Stevie Nicks mourn the passage of time and love one more time, I will lose my mind.”

“Garcia, please, just be patient.”

She groaned. “You’re lucky I love you.” And with that, she hung up.

———

You huffed a sigh, clutching to your chest a shiny pink pillow covered in sequins and giving Garcia the biggest puppy eyes you could muster. “Please, Penny, let’s not go out to dinner. Let’s just stay in and order Cheesecake Factory; you love Cheesecake Factory!”

“You’re right I do, but I love you more, and right now, you need to get up and get some fresh air!” The almost excessive amount of peppiness in her voice and her refusal of Cheesecake Factory was slightly suspicious, but you didn’t really have time to consider it as she dragged you up off the couch and to the door.

“Okay, counterpoint: what if you went out for dinner, and I stayed in and wallowed in self-pity?”

By the look on her face, you knew your evading tactics were not going to fly. She tutted slightly and said, “You’ve got to know I can’t let you do that. I’m legally obligated to stay with you until you feel better, that’s the deal when you’re friends with me.” She grabbed your coat, holding it open for you.

Reluctantly, you sighed and slid your arms in, grumbling, “You’re too nice for your own good.”

“Well, that’s very sweet of you, but let’s get a move on!” And with that, she herded you out the door.

———

It was a nice dinner, the two of you out on the town, and for a while, you were granted the solace of distraction. Garcia took you into the city, and somehow it felt a little easier to breathe there under the streetlights amidst a bustling Saturday night crowd. You nestled together in some street corner diner, ordering an absurd amount of food and jabbering on about anything and everything. If she noticed the moments when you fell silent, eyes distant and glassy, (and she definitely did), she never said anything; she just offered a new topic and redirected you from the very sad place that was thoughts of Spencer. And you would latch on eagerly, seizing the opportunity to forget.

So, you spent the evening with late night waffles and french fries and milkshakes and the unending source of cheer that was Penelope Garcia, and by the end of it, your mind didn’t immediately redirect to that morning’s tragedy, which Garcia would define as a success. Together, you found your way back to her car, and you tumbled into the passenger seat, your eyelids immediately fluttering shut. Penelope grinned and drove off.

When you woke again, you were engulfed in bewilderment and not just the regular post-nap disorientation. “Penny, why are we at the National Mall? This is the opposite direction of your house.”

She tapped her acrylics on the steering wheel and nervously surveyed the street in front of her, trying to escape your prying gaze. “Uh—no reason!”

Too exhausted from your day of grief and distraction to be suspicious of her terrible lying, you leaned your head back against the seat, watching the glow of the streetlamps as they roved over the interior of the car.

Garcia seized this movement to set the next part of Reid’s plan in motion. “Hey! You know, what’d be fun is if we went to the Natural History museum! There’s nothing better to cheer you up than dusty old dinosaur bones.” (She didn’t necessarily understand the appeal, but she was trying her best.)

A small chuckle escaped you. “As much as I’d love that, it closed at nine, so we wouldn’t even be able to get in anyway.”

Garcia’s mind thundered furiously as she tried to come up with some way to get you in that freaking building. “Let’s just walk past! Take a peek through the windows, see what we can see!”

Something in you sensed that she wasn’t going to let this go, so you relented as she finagled some sort of street parking that was definitely illegal. You could barely get your seatbelt off before she was dragging you the stone steps, the massive corinthian columns looming. You squeaked a quick Penelope! and tried to keep up. Entirely ready to give up and head back to the car when she tried the door, your mouth fell open in shock when it gave way with ease.

“Oh, look! It’s open! Let’s go inside.”

She didn’t wait for you to respond before she was ducking in the building, and you followed, completely and utterly baffled. Stumbling into the atrium, you were met by a receptionist at the desk. She smiled warmly, “Miss (Y/L/N), I presume?”

You nodded slowly before turning to Garcia whose devious smirk was undeniable. “Penny, what is going on?”

She grabbed your hands and looked at you with tears in her eyes. (Where the hell did those come from?) “Just remember that you’re a very forgiving person, and that sometimes the smartest of us can also be the most stupid.”

Furrowing your brows at that slightly cryptic message, you went to respond when the receptionist stood and said, “If you would, miss, please follow me.”

And so you walked with this stranger through the empty halls, the click of her heels echoing. It was odd to see a space that was normally flushed with people completely empty, and you studied the walls as you walked. “Um, may I ask what’s going on?”

The receptionist grinned, “I’m sorry, but I’m under strict instructions from Dr. Reid to not reveal anything.”

Strict instructions from Dr. Reid. You gasped a little at that, and your thoughts raged with possibilities of what Spencer could possibly have planned. If this was an elaborate attempt at an apology, you were a little overwhelmed; the little dispute this morning absolutely did not necessitate a response of this degree. Sure, you were disappointed, and you needed time to deal with it away from him, but you weren’t mad at him, not really. You had talked about marriage and knew that it was something you both wanted, but you had never discussed when. If he wasn’t ready to marry you quite yet, that was fine; you’d adjust. You were pretty sure you’d wait a whole lifetime for him. Besides, you had sprung it on him quite abruptly, and you knew Spencer and that he was not always well-equipped to deal with monumental change, and how could you blame him for that? You’d wait as long as he needed.

“Here we are!”

Her words broke you from your thoughts, and you looked up to realize you were at the Hall of Fossils. (You had always been fond of the dinosaurs.) Glancing at the girl, you asked, “What do I do now?”

She laughed a little at that. “Just go inside. Take a look around.” And with that, she turned around, leaving you to wander the exhibit.

So you ambled easily through the prehistoric relics and fossilized memories of a past Earth. It was rather haunting, the eerie silence and the illuminated dinosaur skeletons. You peered down at one of the explanatory plaques and instead found a blue post-it note. COLD. A grin wormed its way onto your face, and you jogged a little to the next plaque. GREENHOUSE GASES—WARMER. Spencer was always one for a game. So you zig-zagged through, collecting post-its. GLACIAL PERIOD—COLDER. CRETACEOUS WARMING. EOCENE KIND OF HOT!

With the last note, you looked up and gasped yet again. Spencer was standing in a sea of different plants and flowers placed throughout the central clearing, and donning his signature tight-lipped smile and your favorite of his cardigans, he gave you a small wave. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Your response was breathless, and now that you had met his eyes, you couldn’t tear yours away. A weight lifted from your lungs, it was such a relief to see him, and you hadn’t realized how much you had missed him in the hours you spent apart until you could breathe properly again. “Fancy seeing you here.”

He chuckled at that, but the tension in his shoulders never released; he was clearly anxious, but for what reason, it was hard to say.

An amusing gleam in his eye, he replied, “Same to you.”

“How did you get into the museum after hours?”

He took the moment to examine the toes of his shoes, replying delicately, “I have friends in high places.”

“Ah, Dr. Reid, I always forget that you ruled the world of academia before your time fighting crime.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “Do you remember our first date?”

You gave him a tender smile, and his racing heartbeat eased ever so slightly, you just had that kind of effect on him. “Well,” you began, “I remember you were wearing that cardigan, the one that I love, and I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out—”

“I was definitely more nervous. I was so anxious I forgot who Carl Sagan was at one point.”

“I’d forgotten about that!” You giggled at the memory. “But I remember being in this room, and we were making stupid dinosaur puns, and I believe I told you that you are dino-mite….”

He nodded meekly with a subdued grin. “I think that was the moment I fell in love with you.” Meeting his eyes once again, you felt the wind knocked out of you. The utter honesty you found radiating from his soft golden irises hurt your heart, and it was impossible to not believe him. He fell in love on the first date, how sweet and lovely and perfectly Spencer is that?

You took a breath and began to walk closer, skimming a hand over the lush greenery around you. “You know, the last time I was here, I didn’t remember there being so much flora.”

As if he had forgotten the miniature forest that surrounded him, he surveyed the plants surrounding him. There was a sea of succulents and ferns and honeysuckle and peonies and almost every other plant under the sun. “Yes, they’re a new addition. And if I recall correctly, it seems that lots of your favorites have made an appearance.”

“It does appear that way.”

He reached out to gently lift one strand of a nearby fern. “I believe you’ve mentioned before that you would ‘take a fern over a flower any day of the week.’”

“That would explain why they seem to be taking over the windowsills of our apartment.”

“True. Did you know that in the Victorian floriography, the fern represented sincerity and humility? So maybe if somebody had made a stupid mistake and they were trying to let someone know that they were really sorry, they might give a fern to say that they know they were being an idiot and they felt really bad for what they did.”

You laughed airily, “No, I was not aware of that fact.”

He closed the gap between you, reaching to tuck an errant lock of hair behind your ear. He simultaneously managed to pull a small bouquet of purple-ish flowers from thin air, causing more laughter to bubble from you. The laughing is a good sign, he thought, grinning. Keep going! “To really drive the point home, they might also give some columbine which represents foolishness.”

You looked up at him, your expression bright. “Oh man, this guy feels really bad.”

“Yeah,” he agreed before his words took a more somber cadence. “Yeah, he does.”

Your face softened. “Spence—”

“Um, before you say anything else, (Y/N), I just need to let you know how sorry I am for this morning. I love you so, so much, and I never want you to doubt that, and—”

“Spencer, slow down. Really, it’s okay! I’m not mad.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not angry with me, but it’s not okay because you still deserve an apology. A good apology. So,” he took a deep breath, “I am so very sorry for my actions and for letting you think for even a second that you’re not the most important thing in my life, and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that I want to marry you when you asked because I do. I really, really do.”

Something warm and elated simmered in your stomach, and you beamed at him. “I’m glad because I wanna marry you too.” But before you could get too caught up in the moment, you remembered your earlier thoughts. “I don’t want to push you in any way, though, or make you commit to anything before you’re ready because marriage is kind of a big deal, and I’m happy to wait. Spencer Reid, I’d wait for you forever.”

“I don’t want to wait.” He shook his head and began digging in his pocket.

Your eyes widened in shock and spluttered, “Spence, seriously, if you’re not ready—”

“I am ready.” Finally, he found it and pulled out a small velvet box, looking you dead in the eye. “(Y/N/N), I have been planning this for so long because I wanted it to be perfect for you. You deserve nothing less than the absolute best, and I wanted to give that to you.”

His admission gave you pause. “Wait, you’ve had this planned?”

“I’ve been planning this for months! This isn’t me trying to fumble around and fix my mistake. I have a binder and everything, you can ask Derek. That’s the only reason I said no!”

“You said no because you had a binder for your proposal plan?” you teased.

You both broke out into laughter at that.

Recovering his breath and trying to suppress his ever-growing grin, he said, “No, that’s not why. The only reason I said no earlier is because I needed to show you how much I wanted to say yes. You deserve the best, you deserve every star in the sky and every beautiful thing on this earth, and I wanted to make sure I gave that to you when we decided to spend the rest of our lives together because I want to be enough for you.” Trying to swallow around the slug in his throat, he continued, voice breaking slightly. “This is me giving you all the love I have to offer. You’re it for me, (Y/N). And frankly, I don’t want to spend another second without you.”

He settled on one knee and opened the box, looking up at you with the gentlest gaze and a pounding heart. The wetness of your eyes matched his, and you gave him a watery smile. “I’m saying yes now. I would really, really like to marry you, (Y/N/N), if you’ll still have me.”

“Of course, you absolute dork.” Yanking him up from the ground and grinning like a madman, you grabbed his face and pulled him in for the messiest kiss. He clutched your waist and held you as close as he could possibly manage. (His desire to never be parted seemed to be coming to fruition in the sort of melding of bodies that was occurring.) Clashing teeth and knocking noses, it was hard to settle things when neither of you could stop beaming. Overwhelmed by the complete and utter joy bubbling up in his chest, Spencer hugged you tightly before spinning you in a circle, both of you devolving into boisterous giggles.

“Wait,” he murmured. “I forgot to give you the ring, I still need to seal the deal!” To which, you responded with another peal of laughter (something he thought he would never tire of hearing), as his trembling fingers floundered for the ring.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works, but I’ll take it either way.”

He finally secured, and taking your hand in his ever so gently tenderly, he slid a glimmering emerald on your finger.

“Oh, Spencer, it’s beautiful.” He let out a sigh of relief. With light confusion, you asked, “What’s the sigh for, handsome?”

“I know you wanted a special ring, but when I went ring shopping with Derek, there was nothing I thought you’d like, so I special-ordered one from this shop that was going to be your size and everything, but that ring wasn’t going to be ready for a couple weeks. So today, when I knew I had to propose tonight, I ran to that vintage store you love and came across this one, and I thought you’d like it, but I wasn’t sure it was gonna fit, and—”

“I love it,” you looked at him, trying to will him to understand the depth of your sincerity. “And it fits perfectly!”

“How serendipitous.” He thought his face was going to split in half, he was smiling so wide. He couldn’t stop looking at the ring on your finger. How could one silly little rock make tears well in his eyes? Nonetheless, the sight of it made his heart race and his stomach churn with unrepentant butterflies because looking at it, he knew the girl he loved more than anything else on the planet, his favorite person had chosen to spend the rest of her life listening to his rambles and laughing at his jokes and sitting next to him by the pond in the park. The listless dream that had seemed so hopeless and romantic finally came to fruition in that shiny green stone, so no, he would not stop staring.

“Indeed,” you mused, subtle and irresistible risibility fizzing in the silence that followed. You contemplated for a moment before asking, “What do we do now?”

A thoughtful frown graced his lips, and then he shrugged. “We have the museum until midnight. We could just wander for a bit.”

Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and you tugged on his sleeve, your excitement palpable. “I’ve always wanted to be in a museum when no one’s around at night! Oh my god, Spencer, it’s just like Night at the Museum!”

He quirked a brow, and a sly smirk turned up the corners of his mouth. “Does that mean I have to protect you when the dinosaur skeletons come to life?”

You scoffed, “Please, we both know that I’d be the one protecting you.”

Another devolution into giggling. It seemed to be your thing tonight.

“Fair enough.”

“Also, do we get to keep all of these plants?” His eyes remained glued to your flushed face as you peered around the room. He wasn’t ashamed to admit just how besotted he was, shamelessly beaming at his fiancée.

“I bought them for you, so yeah.”

“Sick! Our apartment’s gonna turn into a little greenhouse!”

He extended a crooked arm to you, to which you looped yours in his and proceeded to set off on your museum adventure. You learned your head on his shoulder as you walked, completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.

“Hey, Spence?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I love you very much.”

“I love you too, dear.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #anyone else obsessed with winston bishop?#i'd die for him #also can anyone tell that my fav literary device is polysyndeton #bc i feel like i use it way too often :/#actually i don't care!#bc i love it #also i counted three allusions in this bad boy if u find them all u get extra credit :)#jkjkjkjk #i hope all of the three people awake rn enjoy this

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kintatsujo · 3 years

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LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part THIRTY

Previous Post Is HERE

This is the last outline post! But like I said before I’m probably gonna take a run at NaNo with this story this year because of how thoroughly it got out of hand lmao and probably will keep doing smaller art posts and shit at this point.

And again there’s already ideas for a sequel in the works, although that’ll probably trickle in MUCH more slowly for the time being.

Next week I’m probably going to take a break from Tumblr altogether bc of Real Life Stuff and the fact that this project turned So Big. Maybe. Possibly. Don’t take me at my word lmao

This is a text heavy post and I apologize but there was a lot to cover; each section is separated by headers.

Content warning for mention of hanging used as a metaphor.

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

Astramorus’s Sentencing

Astramorus is stripped of his rank within Hylia's Church, although he's allowed to keep his home at the sky commune since he and Catena had shared it since before her death and Zelda isn't cruel. She assigns him a Shiekah escort-and-therapist on Impa's recommendation, someone he's not allowed to leave the Sky Temple Commune without until further notice, and Astramorus tells her it's generally much more generous than he expected even considering the help he'd offered.

Link doesn’t go home with him, at Astramorus's insistence.

"Listen to me, Link," he says, touching Link's face gently. "For all that I'd LIKE to undo the last twelve years of our lives, do it better, you're still healing from everything I did wrong."

"Uncle Seren was-" Link starts.

"Giving me the rope with which to hang myself," Astramorus finishes. "I still took it in hand, son. We both need a little distance to start, you to heal and me to sort my own head."

Link frowns at him. "You need to heal too," he says. "You wouldn't have taken that rope if Mama had been here to stop you."

"Probably not," Astramorus agrees. "But that's why her Majesty is assigning someone to follow me around, isn't it?"

[Image Description: Link throws his arms around Astramorus, to his father’s surprise. When Astramorus hugs him back, looking like he’s ready to collapse into the hug, Link opens one eye and tells him sternly, “Take CARE of yourself, Father, or we’re gonna have WORDS.” “Mhm,” Astramorus mumbles. End ID.]

(Hilda, it should be noted, tells Astramorus and Link that they’re both welcome to visit Lorule Castle at any time, trying to hide her eagerness until finally admitting; “You both know what having Serenumbra in your head is like.” And Astramorus and Link agree with that and promise to meet there in a few months, once they’ve had that time to sort themselves out.)

As for Serenumbra, for now Eltani decides to let him “enjoy” some solitude in the Gerudo City prison while she deliberates more thoroughly on what to do with him. He did quite a lot, after all.

What to do About Ghirahim

Eltani and Zelda Sr discuss what to do about Ghirahim more privately, with Aldway, Impa, and Vaba (Eltani's oldest advisor) there to offer input.

"You say he froze upon being presented with the mere image of his old master," Aldway says. "I'm not sure I trust that."

"It wasn't like-" Zelda starts, then starts over. "He was like a frightened child, darling." She pauses, reevaluates. "Or like a dog expecting to be beaten."

"Like Link?" Aldway asks mildly.

She shakes her head. "Much worse than even that, my dear."

"Even knowing he's half mortal he has trouble stilling his tongue towards me," Eltani notes. "Faced with his former master, he was struck silent."

Vaba speaks up. "You say that Serenumbra called the thing he summoned a god's nightmare, correct?"

"The boy Link saw a figure he couldn't hope to live up to. Your Majesty saw a figure from history you've tried to avoid being since you were her age. Whose nightmare was Demise? Dinravi didn't know his face, and you tell us Ghirahim stepped in the way. Dinravi only faced a copy of Ghirahim's master because he was reflected from Ghirahim's half human heart."

They decide to let him stay.

What Dinravi Would Like to do About Ghirahim

And in the meantime Dinravi and Ghirahim are having their own discussion somewhere else in the castle, partly because Eltani asked Dinravi to keep Ghirahim away from where they're discussing and partly because of course they are, it's been a lot, the last day and a half or so, between Ghirahim saving Dinravi from assassination and Dinravi punching Nightmare Demise in the face. And finding out that Ghirahim is definitely around half human now, there's also that.

There's a bit of an awkward silence, at first. It's so, so much. Ghirahim is stealing a lot of glances and Dinravi seems to be collecting himself.

And then Dinravi asks: "Can I kiss you?"

Ghirahim stares at him for a moment, eyes wide, mouth small in surprise, bright red, and then he smiles a little and looks away and says "You still don't... my prince, you don't need to ask PERMISSION to do whatever you PLEASE with me."

Dinravi goes quiet. "... Is that how it was with him? Demise?" he asks. His face is gentle and open, nonjudgmental, but Ghirahim sputters.

"Of course it was," he says, "is there a problem with that?"

Dinravi studies him. "Apparently there is," he says. "Because you're shaking."

Ghirahim jolts in horror and stares at his hands, which are indeed trembling, almost as badly as at the sight of Nightmare Demise, and he screams: "DAMN this frail useless human body!!"

Dinravi takes a step backwards, watching him, and says, "Ghirahim." And at getting his attention, he asks, "Does this mean that you came to me, tried to seduce me into conquest... Knowing that might mean you, too?"

Ghirahim stares at him for a breath, vulnerable, then looks away, frowning. "Of course I did," he says.

Dinravi sighs. "Of course you did," he echoes.

"I was FORGED for this," Ghirahim says helplessly. "To serve Master Demise, or the one who inherits from Him. Whatever that might mean."

"Ghirahim," Dinravi says gently. "You're almost half human now. I believed in your choice before, when we were thinking you entirely demon, but... Being human means getting to choose."

Ghirahim is adrift and he looks at the floor, the ceiling, out the window, and finally back at Dinravi, trying to find solid ground.

His voice is small. "Please kiss me?" he asks. Dinravi smiles and steps forward, leaning into him, brushing his lips tenderly with his own. Ghirahim whimpers and surges forward, and Dinravi puts his arms around him and steadies his stance, chuckling, soothing him, kisses him again. Ghirahim gasps as his knees buckle and he slides downward, almost ragdoll as Dinravi catches him again.

"Are you okay?!" Dinravi asks, holding him against his chest.

"I'm fine," Ghirahim whispers, hanging on for dear life. "C-can- Can we take this somewhere your MOM won't stumble on us, or worse one of the BRATS running around the castle? I'm about to become very embarrassing if we keep this up." He gives Dinravi a significant stare, face crimson. "Maybe with a bed?"

Dinravi's eyebrows shoot up. ".... Would you like me to carry you?" he finally asks.

"I think you're going to have to," Ghirahim admits.

We're going to give them some privacy. XD

[Image Description: Dinravi is tilting Ghirahim into a kiss, the sun setting through the window behind them. Ghirahim’s eyes are open but he’s pliant in Dinravi’s arms, one hand curled against his chest. Dinravi is smiling, eyes closed and his grip gentle but rather thoroughly in control of the situation. End ID.]

Back At the Sky Commune

Maurice and the other priests/monks at the Sky Temple Commune had some word of what was going on by the time Astramorus returns, and Maurice has more or less been put in charge now, in recognition of his years of service and care of the commune’s day to day.

He’s a bit annoyed at Astramorus about the whole thing, if he’s honest, which he is, but he also does care about his former superior, and once Astramorus has settled back in and the Sheikah escort is being shown around he approaches him in his quarters, finding him by the window thrown open, chin resting in his hand, looking out of place in the kind of civilian clothing Astramorus has barely worn his entire life.

“So what are you going to do with yourself, Astramorus, once the Queen’s man has decided you’ve moped around here enough?” he asks. Maurice is kind but he’s also gruff. Birds don’t tend to care about your word choices, and Maurice spends much more time with pigeons and cuccos and loftwings than with people.

Astramorus shrugs, not turning from the view of the blue sky. “Honestly Maurice, I was raised by Hylia’s Church. Mayhap I’ll find something else, but. Well, it was kind of the Queen to let me keep these quarters for more reasons than memory of my wife.”

Maurice bristles his mustache, and then he says, “You know... she stripped your rank. There’s nothing about your sentence as I read it that says you can’t start over from the beginning.”

Astramorus finally turns to him, and Maurice is struck by how... well, how much happier the other man looks. He’s lost nearly everything, and yet it’s like a great millstone’s off his neck. And Astramorus smiles:

[Image Description: “Maybe,” Astramorus says, smiling against his hand. He looks relaxed and happy, and maybe like he’s considering it seriously. The sun shines on him gently. End ID.]

What Now, Link?

And perhaps at the same time, now that he’s said his goodbyes and everything’s settled down, Marla finds Link sitting on a balcony rail of Hyrule Castle, looking out at Castle Town and looking pretty peaceful himself.

She comes up behind him and folds her arms against the rail, smiling up at him.

“So, Link, we finally got your father to listen to you,” she says, and she’s thinking of that conversation at the Shrine of the Furious God when she says it. “What now?”

Link shrugs. “I suppose I’ll stay here for a little while,” he says. He wants to see Gray recovered, and to spend more time with the Royal Family, and it’d be nice, if he’s honest, to rest a while himself. “The Queen says my mother’s family are probably still running around the continent somewhere, so I might look for them after that.” Adventuring runs in the family, apparently, because Zelda Sr. only has some idea of where his grandparents have gotten off to, only some idea of where to find his mother’s younger siblings.

“Sounds like a plan,” Marla says. She looks out at Hyrule Castle Town for a quiet moment, enjoying the sound of Link breathing.

“Do you think,” she says, “That we could take a few weeks to check back at Windfish Isle? I have this horrible suspicion that the Mayor has filled Tonbo and my house with fishing nets and I’d like to let him know to find someone else to live there before the walls take on a permanent stink.”

We’re staying with you so we should let them know goes unspoken, but Marla has known for a while she’s tying herself to Link for the rest of his life the same way she’s tied herself to Tonbo for the rest of his life, and the world’s a bit wider than it was when she and Tonbo left with Link, and if Link’s going to be in the wide world, Marla and Tonbo should be too.

And Link knows what she means. Because family means the people you don’t need so much courage around.

He smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “We can do that.”

[Image Description: Link and Marla. Link is sitting on the balcony rail while Marla is leaning on it. They’re giving one another fond smiles. The sun shines on them gently, giving the image a slightly faded look. End ID.]

#my art #loz au #loz #loz au: the courage of running away #au august #at last!!

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akakeiiji · 4 years

Note

Hi! This is my first time requesting something, i was wondering if you could do headcanons or reactions for Oikawa, Akaashi, Atsumu, sugawara and Nishinoya who have an s/o who is a medical student and works as a paramedic in her free time and tends their injuries after games or durning them, especially oikawa 😔🙏🏻

Omg anon, if this ask is based off of you then you are amazing!! Keep up the great work!

Also I finally broke through my creative block and actually wrote something, I actually finished these hcs a few days ago but my laptop died before I could post so I had to start from scratch huhu (having to start over drained me so much hence why this took so long to post)

✂︎・・・masterlist

-`,✎Oikawa, Akaashi, Atsumu, Sugawara and Nishinoya’s reaction to their S/O tending to their injuries

Oikawa Tooru

Oikawa is the king of overworking himself

Even when he doesn’t have any matches to worry about, he’s in the gym practicing and practicing till he physically can’t anymore

It’s no wonder why he gets injured a lot, he just never knows when to stop

If it weren’t for you his body would be in horrible shape

You always know what to say and do to get him to stop practicing for the day, and you’re always the one tending to his sore and exhausted body ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He loves flexing you, he needs everyone to know how smart you are

When I say everyone, I mean everyone

You turn around for a bit and he’s suddenly telling the cashier how amazing you are for being a paramedic

Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa is actually very smart so sometimes he’ll study with you in his free time, helping you out by quizzing you and stuff

He studies your material sometimes, idly reading through your papers and textbooks sometimes

He’ll just randomly blurt out random medical facts, which may or may not be a ploy to impress you

One day when it was reaching the end of a match, you could tell that something was wrong with Tooru, it wasn’t obvious but you knew when he was in pain

You internally screamed at him, urging him to sit the rest of the match out but this was Oikawa you were talking about

Luckily the match ended quickly after that with Oikawa’s team winning but he almost collapses from the sheer pain he was feeling on his leg, it had been acting up again from his old injury

You were absolutely livid because it wouldn't have been so bad if he stopped playing when it started hurting but you were too worried to lecture him

There are tears prickling his eyes but he’s still smiling and telling everyone he’ll be okay because you’re there

“They’re the best of best, they’ll be able to help me!”

He’d be bedridden for a while and, of course, you’d be by his side the entire time

You scolded him for an hour and he couldn’t run away so he had to endure it all

For the first few days, everything would be okay, but after a while, he starts getting restless and keeps trying to get up to do things by himself

You would physically restrain him to the bed if you could

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

JUST KIDDING….Unless

He wants nothing more than to go back to training, he’d literally start dreaming about volleyball on some nights

You have to constantly remind him that if he doesn't recover properly he’ll just worsen his leg so that he doesn’t run away while you’re at school or at work

“If it gets worse, they might have to amputate it.”

“What?! You can’t be serious…you’re joking, right?”

Since he can’t go out or train anymore, he spends the rest of his time trying to get your attention

He’s so pouty and whiny, always calling for you for no good reason

While you’re studying in the other room, he’ll suddenly call for you saying he needs you

When you go over to him, he’ll just be like: “I need you~” and you’d have to fight the urge to strangle him

He really just wants your attention, pls help him

In all seriousness though, he’s so thankful to you and truly appreciates what you do

While you’re checking on his leg one day, he’d take your gentle hands in his and pull you in for a hug

“Thank you for putting up with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“…also I need to pee.”

Akaashi Keiji

My son

My precious boy

It pains me to write about him getting hurt

He’s so supportive of you and your studies, he knows how hard studying medicine is

He always checks in on you when you’re studying or working

He’s the type of boyfriend that will give you little snacks while you’re working and remind you to take breaks

Whenever he feels sick or gets hurt, you’re the first one he calls because he trusts you the most and because he knows how capable you are

But this happens very rarely because he’s really careful and knows his limits

During one of his matches though, he suddenly falls over after setting a ball, clutching his leg

He’s immediately rushed over to the infirmary but when they arrive you’re already there wheezing and panting after running all the way there from the bleachers

The nurse tells you that he sprained his ankle pretty badly and that he’d recover just fine but you still felt so bad because you could see how much Akaashi was in pain

I'm legitimately hurting rn while writing this

After getting injured, he starts overthinking so fricking much

He’ll start thinking that he was pulling his team down and begin questioning his skills as a player

You literally have to slap some sense into him or he’ll just drown in his thoughts

You’ll have to cup his face in your hands and urge him to look at you while you tell him how much of an amazing player he is and how injuries like these are inevitable when playing sports

He’ll only start feeling better after this but he still needs a huge dose of your hugs and kisses to fully recover

Out of all the boys, he’s probably the easiest to take care of (he’s prolly tied with Suga)

He’s more obedient and doesn’t mind staying in bed for a long time

But at the same time, he’s so stubborn and says he doesn’t need your help

He just keeps thinking that he’s burdening you while you have so much on your plate

“I don’t need your help, love. I’m completely fine.”

“Keiji, there are literally tears in your eyes.”

He subconsciously gets clingier than usual as the days go by, always trying to get your attention

He isn’t as obvious as other ehem tooru and tries to do so in more subtle ways

Like he’ll just accidentally drop his book and when you go to pick it up he’ll pull you onto the bed and before you know it you’ve been cuddling for two hours straight

The extra affection is his own little way of saying thank you

While you’re checking on his injuries he’ll grab your hand with his and press your knuckles to his lips

“Thank you, love.”

My heart burst

Miya Atsumu

Oikawa part 2 but snarkier

He just doEsn’T kNow whEn to StOP

He always finds some nitty gritty detail he absolutely needs to fix during his regular practice and stays after hours to work on it

He can train for hours without realizing it, before he knows it it’s midnight, he’s the only soul left in the building and his legs are dying

Other times, when you arrive home to find your boyfriend missing, you immediately head over to his gym and drag him home

During a match, he dives down to save a ball only to crash on the ground awkwardly and injure his shoulder

He’s forced to leave the court after failing to convince the referee and his coach that he was fine and he was absolutely livid

Not at them but at himself

He thinks that the injury was a sign that he was slacking off or losing his edge

He goes off on a tangent about how he needs to practice more and how he can’t afford to waste time

Nobody could calm him down until you arrived

After you got there and talked some sense into him, he finally complies and lets himself be lead away to the infirmary

He’s down in the dumps for at least a week, usually found grumbling at the tv, unsure of what to do with this unprecedented free time

But soon after a lot of talks lectures with you and food sent by his brother, he starts going back to his usual old self

He’s absolutely basking in this extra attention from you, he secretly loves being doted on

It used to really irk him when he finds he can’t do certain things with his injury like opening a jar

But once it dawns on him that you’re there, he will totally abuse this just to get your attention and to bother you

“Hey, can you help me open the fridge?”

“You can do that by yourself.”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WON’T HELP YOUR INJURED BOYFRIEND.”

Whenever you’re checking on his shoulder, he always distracts you by kissing your lips or neck while you’re trying to be a good s/o and it always ends up in a makeout session or more

Because he’s got so much more free time, he’s usually found in your shared apartment, clinging onto you while you’re studying waiting for you to finish

“Are you ready to dote on me?”

“No, be patient.”

“>:’(”

When the doctor tell him he’s fully recovered, the first thing he does is lift you in his arms and twirl you around

Sugawara Koushi

Precious bby

This mama bear rarely gets injured, he’s usually the one nursing others

You two are like this wonderful duo with magic curing hands

He absolutely loves that you’re pursuing your dreams of being in the medical field and low-key shows you off to everyone he knows

Especially to his parents, they love you almost as much as they love him don't tell him that tho

He’s really careful while playing because he hates being in pain, like more so than the average person if you get what I mean

While blocking though, he ends up injuring his wrists from the sheer strength of the spike and the not so ideal positioning of his arms

He has tears in his eyes while he’s being brought to the infirmary and your heart literally broke as you watched from the sidelines

He was stuck with a wrist splint for a couple of weeks

Like Atsumu he constantly needs your help to do mundane things like open cans and such

Unlike Atsumu though, he’s less whiny and more distraught over the fact that he’s always being doted on

He isn’t used to being the one taken care of

He always tries not to burden you and always tries to do things by himself

“Koushi! What was that crash I heard?”

“Nothing! Don’t mind me, just focus on your work.”

“WHY ARE YOU COOKING!?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, DAMNIT—”

He broke two plates that day trying to make your favorite meal

Apparently cooking with a splint is pretty difficult, he takes note of this

He becomes guilty when you do things like cook and clean, he tries to help as best he can but you always tell him to just sit back and relax but he jUSt cAn’T

He doesn’t want you to worry about stuff like that because you need to study!! He feels so helpless sometimes

While you’re cooking dinner, you’ll just turn to the side and do a double take when you see him staring at you with wide, concerned eyes

“What?”

“I want to help :(”

He’s literally the living embodiment of this emoji: 🥺

You let him help with little stuff like stirring and watching the pot while you cut the vegetables and stuff

He immediately feels better after this, he wants to feel at least a little bit helpful

At the end of the day, while you two are in bed, he’ll nudge closer to you and pepper your face with kisses

“What was that for?”

“I just love you so much, thank you.”

Nishinoya Yuu

Sorry but everyone at the ER is on a first-name basis with Nishinoya

LISTEN HE’S SO CHAOTIC AND WILD, HE ALWAYS GETS HIMSELF INTO DUMB SITUATIONS

His grandfather didn’t even bat an eye when the school nurse would call him informing him that Nishinoya managed to break his arm during his math exam don’t ask

When he found out about your studies and your job he was so giddy and kept telling you that it was fate and that you two completed each other

He’s literally the proudest boyfriend that you could ever have, always telling everyone about how smart and talented you are

“Yeah, you may be a rocket scientist but you will never be as smart as my s/o!”

“Yuu, what are you doing—”

He loves having a smart s/o, he’s always being wowed by your vast knowledge

You can always find him silently cheering you in the corner while you’re studying

Basically, he’s your number one fan and supporter

Asides from that, he’s also your number one patient

Whenever he gets hurt, you’re the first one he turns to, he tells you it’s good practice and that it’s helping you improve your skills in an attempt to stop you for scolding him

One time, he sprained his elbow while trying to do some new move he saw on tv

Insert vine: I don’t care that you broke your elbow

Except you do care, a lot in fact

He’s lowkey tearing up when being rushed to the infirmary because it hurts but mostly because he just wants to play

You have to be so strict and stern with him

He’s so energetic and bouncy, he definitely doesn’t respond well to being bound with bandages or slings

If it weren’t for you, he probably would have worsened his injuries, but he’s a huge simp so he listens to everything you say…mostly

Since he can’t use his energy for volleyball and sports, he’ll direct that energy towards giving you attention

He becomes sooo affectionate and clingy, he just wants to shower you with love

He gets restless often, whenever he does he’ll plop down beside you and wrap his good arm around your waist while you’re working as a way to remind himself to stay put and to not jump out the window from boredom

“Kiss my boo-boo?”

“What are you? Five?”

Unlike the others, he’s very very open about how thankful he is to have you taking care of him, he would scream it out the window if you would let him

He reminds you every day how blessed he is to have you, at the most random of times actually

“Can you open this bottle for me?”

“Sure.”

“GOD, WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE YOU?”

“CALM DOWN—”

He’s so in love, please save him

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write-ur-wrongs · 3 years

Text

Mother, Mother pt.2

A/N: Finally ready to post part 2 of my dad!Geralt fic!!! Part 2 is loosely based on this prompt Another request with baby!👀🥰 Reader has a newborn and geralt is just watching them thinking about how much have changed and how reader turned his life around...🍪 so I really want to thank that anon for their prompt and their patience! I definitely took some liberties with this story and worry the plot got lost along the way(?) but I really hope you like it nonetheless! Full disclosure I haven’t proof-read this piece so forgive the many typos!!

__________________________________________________________

“I said, no,” Geralt repeated himself slowly and with great authority, “thank you.”

The village healer looked at the witcher with eyes wide in disbelief, unable to accept that there was anything a witcher wouldn’t do for coin. Especially this witcher – the White Wolf – or so they used to call him. He used to be a force to be reckoned with on the continent, but now it seemed there was rarely a job he’d be willing to take.

“No? B-but who will help us!” they shouted desperately, “you can’t just leave this village to fend for itself! The creature will kill us all, Witcher!”

Geralt closed his eyes and took a deep breath before repeating himself yet again. “Please understand, I can’t help you, but I know people who can. Eskel is highly qualified and will be here by the next full moon. He will help you; I assure you.”

“But you’re here now,” the healer said, still shaking his head, “you could resolve this by nightfall! Why should these people wait a week for peace?”

“Hm.” He growled, lowly, biting down on his cheek to keep himself from giving into his rage and his pride. He wasn’t just living for himself anymore, not just living for the coin or by the witcher’s code; he had a family now.

He knew the world wouldn’t be easy to convince regarding his change in career path. Hell, it had taken most of your pregnancy to convince his brothers at Kaer Morhen of his plans. When he first told them you were pregnant, and it was his, they laughed heartily while sharing quick looks of concern between one another; fearing you’d strayed and were trying to play poor Geralt for a fool.

Yet that reaction was nothing compared to the one they gave him when Geralt admitted that his days of being a witcher were over. He’d be a consultant now. He’d travel the continent only when he heard of monsters through Jaskier’s letters, and once he reached these villages, he’d take stock and refer the case to one of his brothers, who’d pay him a modest commission for the referral. Geralt never took contracts he deemed to be too dangerous (which, so it happened, was most of them). The rule was if he wouldn’t readily bring Cirilla along to help, it was too dangerous for him alone.

Once, he let pride take precedence and he accepted a contract he knew was dangerous. It felt good to be back in the saddle, both literally and figuratively. He and Roach took to the forest like birds on a breeze, and his sword was just an extension of himself as he wielded it fiercely and with grace.

While he did conquer the beast in the end, it did put up quite a fight, and everything he thought made the fight worth it was washed away the instant he limped into your home and saw the look on his pregnant wife’s face and heard the cries of his beloved child surprise. To this day, he still feels the panicked sound of Ciri’s fearful shriek and your horrified sob weigh heavily in the pit of his stomach.

He felt this very weight now as he considered this desperate healer’s words. Yes, he’d handled this type of monster many times before, but it wasn’t worth it.

“Listen to me, this type of creature is only a threat during a full moon,” Geralt said, “just educate your people, spread the word, you’re in a position of authority here – use it.”

The healer sighed deeply before muttering to themselves in frustration. They pulled their cloak tighter around their body and made a scene of grabbing the coin-filled sac from the table. Geralt rolled eyes his at the paranoid healer before gesturing for them to head outside.

“Fine, leave! But if you leave now and anyone dies, their blood will be on your hands!” shouted the healer, as Geralt tended to Roach.

Geralt rolled his eyes before mounting Roach, urging her onto the trail.

This isn’t my fight, he thought, and their people will be fine.

You were having a wonderful morning. Wren slept through the night for the first time in who-knows how long, and Ciri was relaxing as she entered her fifth day without a magical episode; those lessons with her aunt Yennefer were definitely paying off.

Now you were savouring the gentle afternoon breeze, resting your knees in the cool earth of the garden as the sun warmed you from above. You loved harvesting produce and tending to the flowers; this year was especially bountiful thanks to a rainy spring and temperate summer. As you picked tomatoes off the vine, you smiled softly at the sound of Ciri celebrating a successful hit on her target across the yard.

Meanwhile, Wren played happily in the dirt at your side. She’s been sitting up on her own now which was such a thrill. Such a small change, but it granted you freedoms you didn’t know you’d been missing.

“Mama, snek!” Wren squealed, proudly holding an earthworm up at you. You laughed in relief upon seeing what she was holding up – for half a second you thought she’d managed to snag an actual snake.

“Wow my girl,” you cooed, “what a find!”

At the sound of your praise, Wren smiled up at you brightly and closed her little fingers around the earthworm with pride.

“Careful now, love! Don’t harm it,” you said, gently prying open her stubby fingers and releasing the worm back into the soil, “these little guys play an important role in the health of our garden.”

“You know she doesn’t understand you, right mom?” Ciri said a little breathlessly after stabbing her sword into the earth.

“I don’t think we can say that with certainty, Ciri. She is a witcher’s daughter after all, we are in for a lifetime of surprises I’d say.” You replied with a small shake of your head. Ciri rolled her eyes at you before making off towards the house at a run.

“Cirilla,” you warned, “don’t leave your sword in the yard! And wipe it down before you take it in – I don’t want dirt tracked in again.”

“Mom!” she groaned, stomping back to get her sword. “Witchers don’t need to do these ridiculous chores…” she said under her breath.

“They don’t get warm meals or comfortable beds either!” you replied in a sing-song, knowing it would drive Ciri crazy – you hated when she grumbled at you. Ciri had great respect for her father but would sometimes treat you like you were nothing more than a headmistress at school. Having spent time with witchers and sorceresses alike, scolding didn’t command respect; at least when you played it light it got her attention.

“Yeah – I know! I’ve lived those lives!” Ciri shouted, storming back towards the house, sword in hand.

Fuck. You forgot she was there when Cintra fell. How could you forget?! She was alone and, on the run, and oh gods if Geralt had been here and heard this he’d –

“Ciri, wait, I’m so sorry. I’m –”

“Sounds like someone could use some help.”

You stopped cold at the sound of the strangers’ voice. It ran through you like mead – ice cold but left a strange burning sensation in its place. Ciri also stopped in her tracks, dropping her hand from the door but keeping a firm grip on the helm of her sword. Ciri cast a quick glance at the stranger standing on the edge of your property before settling her nervous eyes on you.

You did your best to evoke confidence before turning to see this stranger for yourself.

It was Visenna.

Again, you did your best to seem confident as you addressed your eldest. “Ciri,” you said, not taking your eyes off the druid, “take Wren into the house, quickly!”

“Mom?”

“Cirilla please, take her and go into the house,” you said, impressed at your ability to keep your voice level. “And take your sword with you,” you added, turning to give her what you hopped was a look that encouraged her to stay calm and be careful.

Ciri said nothing but scooped her sister up and onto her hip with one arm while keeping her sword steadily by her side.

Once you heard the door close, you cast a quick glance to make sure your girls were safe before turning your attention back to the woman standing at the gate.

“Why are you here, Visenna?” you asked, holding your head high despite the fact your heart was pounding in your ears.

“Oh child,” her words dripped with condescension, “I never expected my son to write me back, but I had hoped he’d share the contents of my letter with his wife.”

“He told me about the letter,” you said, giving her a tight close-lipped smile, “in fact he told me all about you. So, I’m going to ask you again, why are you here?”

“If you know about the letter, then you know why I’m here.”

“Could you be so cold as to have you forgotten your history with your son? The way you left him to be tested on like a rat? You have no right to be here.” Your voice cracked as you finished your last sentence, and Visenna tilted her head at your sign of weakness.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, dear. You weren’t there -”

“Neither were you!” you spat; with a harshness you didn’t think you had in you.

“Hm.” Visenna crossed her arms and watched you closely through narrowed eyes. You hated that she reminded you of Geralt as she seized you up – the had the same mannerisms, the same affinity for the non-verbal. Geralt could never know.

The druid’s scrutinizing glare made you squirm, and when you broke eye contact with her for a moment of reprieve, she moved to open your gate. For the briefest moment, your panic left you paralyzed as you watched the woman begin a confident stride towards the house.

“Stop!”

You whipped your head around as you heard Ciri come bursting out of the front door. She was wielding her sword up in front of her with one hand while the other hugged Wren onto her side.

“Do not come any closer, I am warning you!” she shrieked, her light eyes wild as her mousey hair blew behind her.

“Ciri-” you tried, holding one hand out to calm her.

“No!” she yelled, keeping her eyes and her sword fixed on Visenna, who was now standing stock-still at the gate.

“Stop trying to tame her, dear,” Visenna interjected. “Let the lion cub roar.”

At the sound of her old nickname, you took in a sharp breath and felt your heart drop to your stomach. It felt like the world stopped turning as Ciri reacted to the trigger.

Cirilla could handle discussions about her old life in small doses and only on her terms. Whenever the dreams came to her, it would take you hours to calm her down. More often than not, the episodes left you and Geralt drained and deeply concerned. Yennefer was really the only person Ciri responded to, and while her methods and lessons have helped, sometimes the pain brought on by the memories was simply too great.

Now, as the four of you stood in your garden, you could feel the earth begin to vibrate beneath your feet. Ciri’s jaw was clenched tight and her nostrils were flared. She slowly knelt down and placed Wren onto the ground before standing tall once again.

“Do not call me that.” She seethed, voice dripping with magic.

“Come now, child,” Visenna replied, seemingly unaware of the storm brewing, “I am your grandmother. I can help you; teach you.”

“You are not my grandmother!” Ciri shrieked, pushing a violent wind towards the druid which forced her to take a step back. “Get out of here! Leave!”

“I – I don’t mean any disrespect, Ciri. The Lioness was –”

“Ciri, no, wait –”

Everything happened so quickly. You felt the burning rush of Ciri’s magic roar past you and tried desperately to keep your eyes open so you could see Wren. Though your eyes stung against the harsh blast Ciri was emitting, you saw Wren crying soundlessly behind her sister, her chubby hands reaching out towards you in desperation. You tried to step towards her but an invisible force pushed you to the ground. You pulled yourself up on one elbow and tried to reach towards your baby without luck. Everything was burning and it took all of your strength to stay alert.

Meanwhile, Ciri’s blast of magic shot at Visenna like a bolt of lightening. Out of the tip of her sword and from her outstretched hand came a bright blue flame surrounded by pulses of violent wind. The destructive blast uprooted the gate and surrounding fence, throwing them back into the forest beyond. Burning shrapnel and earth flew towards her at breakneck speed, but the druid reacted quickly, pulling a portal with the help of an amulet and escaped the blast.

The garden in the path of Ciri’s blow burned harshly – leaving nothing behind but ash; except for the pocket where you lay. You tried to call out to Ciri to calm her down but there was no air for you to draw from. You let the force of her magic hold you down for a moment, trying to recuperate your strength, and when you looked up again you saw Wren taking a few wobbly steps toward her sister.

Holy fuck, you thought. These were her first steps.

You watched with wide eyes as Wren took step after step towards her sister, whose magic raged on. You were so drained by the weight of Ciri’s magic that you were convinced your eyes were deceiving you.

You watched in disbelief as Wren took step after step towards Ciri. The moment her little hand reached her sisters leg, the spell broke and Chaos released its hold on Cirilla. Drained from the exertion, she lost consciousness and started to collapse in on herself, her sword falling from her hand and onto the ground with a dull thud.

You scrambled to your feet and raced to Ciri, dropping to your knees once you reached her to catch her in her fall. You smoothed the ashen strands out of her face and rocked her gently from side to side, breathing shakily through your silent tears. You didn’t know when you started to cry, but when Wren waddled her way to you and nestled onto Ciri’s lap to press her face into the crook of your neck, you were sure you’d be crying forever.

“What the fuck,” Geralt growled upon seeing the destruction as he rode up to the house from the trail. In a growing panic, he urged Roach into a canter. When they got to where the gate should have been, he dismounted and ran towards the house at a sprint, his heart pounding in his ears. When he saw you sobbing on the ground with an unconscious Ciri and weeping Wren, he lost all control.

“Y/N! Y/N what happened?! Who did this?” he shouted, panic rising. When he spotted Ciri’s sword on the ground, Geralt fell to his knees beside you and quickly scanned you all for any sign of injury. You were weeping, holding tightly to Ciri, who was unconscious, and Wren, you

“Y/N please talk to me,” he said more harshly than he meant it, while brushing wild strands of hair out of your face gruffly.

“Ciri, she um –” you choked, working to slow your breathing, “she lost control of her magic…”

“Yeah, I can see that, love.” He said with an incredulous laugh, his eyes scanning your ruined garden with disbelief. “What the fuck happened to make her so upset? Did – did she have a nightmare? Did you, hm, say something to her?”

“Geralt – no,” you said quickly, the tears you managed to calm coming back with a vengeance.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I just…” Geralt regretted the insinuation that this might have been your fault but he’d only ever seen Ciri’s magic be this destructive when she was afraid or hurt. He was at a loss.

You shook your head and turned in his arms to look back at him, readjusting Ciri and Wren in your arms to free an arm which you placed onto Geralt’s chest. You held his eyes and took a steadying breath, unsure of how he’d react.

“We – we were in the garden just, just like always and,” you cast a quick glance down at your daughters before bringing your eyes back up to Geralt’s, both to ground yourself and to hopefully remind him of their proximity in order to temper his reaction, “and Visenna appeared at the gate.”

He gasped sharply at your words, and his body around you. You brought your hand up to his face and tried to calm him. His cat-like eyes were wild and unfocused – he looked like a frightened child and it broke your heart to see him like this. Wren seemed to sense this too, as she scrambled up and reached towards her father’s hair.

Wren’s light tugs managed to pull Geralt out of his shock momentarily and his eyes seemed to come back into focus. Seeing this change, you gently redirected his attention back to you.

“Visenna came for Wren… T-to take her or, or to raise her or something? She mentioned the letter…” Geralt clenched his jaw at the reminder.

You hadn’t motioned the letter in months. Geralt wasn’t at all ready to welcome his mother back into his life, and he definitely didn’t want her anywhere near his family.

“What did she do to Ciri? I swear I’ll –” he seethed.

“No, no, Geralt,” you interrupted gently, moving your hand back to his chest, “she didn’t get the chance. I don’t know what she was going to do, but Ciri came out with her sword,” you stopped short to look down at her with pride, “to protect us.”

“She did?” Geralt let out another incredulous breath, shaking his head at his child surprise.

“Yeah, it was like nothing I’ve ever seen. Her magic, it destroyed everything in its path but somehow, she was sheltering me from the blast. Visenna escaped through a portal, I- I think? But Ciri was… unstoppable.”

“Y/N, if Ciri was able to harness Chaos like this at her will, to protect you; this could mean –”

“Oh no, love, I’m sorry I’m not telling this right. She came out of the house with her sword to protect us but she lost control when Visenna called her the Lion Cub.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Oh, I know,” you agreed emphatically before adding, “and then she called herself Ciri’s grandmother…”

“Fuck!”

“Right,” you sighed, shaking your head as a shudder ran through you.

“Da-ee,” Wren said suddenly, pushing her little hands into her father’s face, causing a shocked laugh to escape his lips. Geralt’s face softened in a way he reserved for his youngest daughter and the sight of it was enough to pull you out of whatever was left of your panic.

“Oh, gods!” you exclaimed, “Geralt you won’t believe this.”

“Hm?” he hummed, not taking his eyes off Wren; he was completely enthralled by his baby.

“She took her first steps – and, gods it was incredible Geralt – when she touched Ciri, it pulled her out of the trance!” You gushed breathlessly.

“She did? That’s my girl!” he beamed, earning a proud giggle from the toddler. “Fuck I hate that I missed this, you’re just full of surprises aren’t you, goose?” he said, peppering light kisses across Wren’s little face.

“I know, love.” You said softly, leaning into his arms once more. “I’m so relieved to have you home.”

“Come on, Y/N, let’s get our girls into the house.” Geralt said as handed Wren off to you before picking Ciri up gently as he stood. You took his outstretched hand rose to your feet along-side him. “I’m not leaving you again, I promise.”

“Geralt, you say that every time.” You tease lightly, holding the front door open for him.

“No, I mean it this time Y/N, really.” He said quietly, as he laid Ciri down in her room. “I can’t keep doing this. When I’m gone, all I do is think of you and the girls…” he trailed off when he noticed Wren had fallen asleep on the couch. You smiled tenderly as you watched him cradle her into his strong arms.

“My love, you know you’d go crazy if you stayed here with us all the time.” You said as you smoothed his hair out of his face.

“I’d go crazy if anything ever happened to you.” he whispered.

“Hey now… we’re fine,” you tired to reassure him, “today was an anomaly. I doubt Visenna would try that stunt again. Ciri will be fine, she just needs to rest, and tomorrow we can send word out to Yen for support. We – “you paused to take a steadying breath, “we can’t let fear rule our lives, Geralt.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, setting Wren down into her bed before wrapping his arms around your frame, “now when did you get to be so wise?”

“A certain witcher taught me a few things,” you said, a small smirk playing on your lips, “always preaching something or other but sometimes the lessons stick.”

“Is that so?” he growled, a fighting back a smirk of his own.”

“Hmm,” you teased, kissing him deeply.

#geralt of rivia #witcher geralt #geralt fanfic #geralt x reader #Dad!Geralt #the witcher #the witcher netflix #geralt x you #geralt x y/n #Cirilla of Cintra #cirilla fiona elen riannon #witcher cirilla #fanfiction requests #fanfiction #fanfic

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anon-rebel-writes · 3 years

Text

Late Night Talks

Hello everyone! I hope you are having a wonderful day!

So this is a new story (yay!), and I wrote this for my girlfriend! She asked me not to tag her for privacy reasons, but I hope she loves this because this is actually based on a real event!

A quick background, we confessed through the phone and this story is heavily based on that. A lot of the feelings Luka feels are things that I actually felt! The dialogue is pretty similar too (obviously some things are cut out or edited to fit Luka and Mari lol)

My “just-a-friend” got me into MLB and we both love Lukanette, so I thought it’d be fitting to write her a story about Lukanette, based on us, for one of her gifts! Happy birthday, my love! I hope you (and everyone else reading this XD) enjoy it!

The story begins under the cut! <3 Ao3 Link

Soft light from his phone covered his face, forcing his eyes to squint in order to see clearly. His thumb unconsciously moved across the screen, opening up random apps before quickly closing them just to open them again.

The boat was fairly quiet. During the day, he could hear the different movements and various noises from his mother and sister, but this late at night merely left the sounds of waves from the Seine below him. The natural creaking of the boat usually left him relaxed and helped him fall asleep.

Although lately his nights had been occupied by other things, especially one girl.

Luka shifted in his bed, trying to engulf himself in more warmth from his blankets. Did his mattress always feel this stiff and uncomfortable? He never paid it much attention before, it never mattered before. Maybe it was just his mind trying to find something to think about.

He glanced at the time near the top of his screen and saw it was ten after midnight. Well at least it’s not too late yet, or maybe it wasn’t too early yet? She never texted him extremely late (or extremely early). Was it late? When did he care about time so much?

The only reason he thought about the time lately was because of her.

Luka shifted again, pulling up the blanket to cover the blush creeping up his cheeks. He continued to open apps just to close them again. He sighed and turned off the phone, letting the room dim and his eyes rest. Why did this feel so desperate? He used to see himself as a ‘go with the flow’ guy, but she had found a way into his heart and made him question his entire life.

When had he ever checked his phone this much? If she decided to text him tonight (as she had been doing for the past couple of nights), would immediately replying make him seem obsessed? He didn’t want to come off as overbearing. Didn't girls like when guys text fast? She hasn’t seemed to mind it so far. Then again, his only source of reference was his sister, and getting her to reply to him took years off his life.

His phone beeped and the screen lit up, showing a new text message. Luka quickly sat up and hurried to read the message.

‘SOS Can’t sleep again :( Think I might need a ~Luka~ to help (^-^)’

He covered his mouth with his palm, trying to hide the smile consuming his face. When did his nights become like this? Maybe it was desperate to wait for a text, but when the text came from Marinette, he couldn’t find a reason to be upset.

This girl seemed to bring him a whole new type of happiness, even if he was too nervous to text her first. He wanted to give her space and be comfortable around him, so waiting until midnight for a text never bothered him.

While seeing her throughout the day was always amazing, there was a different feeling that came with their late night talks. The fact that she needed to sleep and came to him for help gave him a warmth in his chest he never knew before. Although sometimes it made him feel selfish, seeing as she tended to talk to him when she was tired.

‘Luckily this Luka is always able to help :)’

And he really was always able to help, at least he tried to be. Luka helped everyone. Whether it was his family, friends, strangers, co-workers, he always lended a hand. But when it came to Marinette, he’d drop everything to run to her.

‘Yesss! Call me! Mama needs some Luka time!’

He tried to stifle a laugh and rolled his eyes at his phone. His body was hunched over the edge of the bed, watching his phone with intense eyes, as if the messages would disappear if he looked away.

In the mornings, he always found himself worried about that, as if the night before only existed in his mind. He’d hurry back to his phone to re-read the messages, making sure that Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the girl who chased off his nightmares and reinvented his dreams, really spent her night with him. Even if it was through a screen, even if it was for an hour, the messages were there to remind him that for a moment, she was his and he was hers. He was always hers, if she wanted him to be.

Luka slowly leaned back onto his bed, trying to get into a comfortable position. He put one hand behind his head and took a deep breath. His calm personality wasn’t an act, Luka was definitely a level-headed person, but he was still human. And as a human, a pretty girl talking to him late at night gave him lots of nerves.

He quickly shook off any tension he felt and pressed the call button. The phone only rang once before the sweetest voice he’d ever heard took over. “Hi Luka! Sorry, I know it’s late and everything, but I couldn’t sleep and… Oh wait, you told me I shouldn’t apologize, sorry! Or- wait, I just said sorry. Wow, I’m sorry- Shoot! I said it again-”

She was rambling, rotating between apologizing to him and trying to explain why she called him. As much as he loved (was that too serious of a word?) her, he also knew that if he didn’t reel her in, she’d spiral out of control.

“Don’t worry, Mari, you’re fine. But I gotta be honest, I didn’t expect this. I mean, calling a boy so late at night… not once, but multiple times in a row? How scandalous of you, Mel’.”

He heard a scoff through the phone and a lot of rustling. “Oh Luka, you should know I am the most scandalous of girls. In case you haven’t heard, I call lots of boys and girls at night.” Her voice took on a fake sounding ‘tough guy’ accent. He rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle. “Wow boys andgirls? I didn’t know I was talking to a criminal.”

Honestly at this point he wouldn’t put it past her to be a criminal, she seemed to have a habit of stealing people’s hearts. He’d never tell her that though. One, she seemed to have a strange distaste for bad jokes, two, that meant he’d have to admit that he liked her (but the word ‘like’ didn’t seem strong enough).

“What?! I wouldn’t take it that far! I’m a total supporter of the law!”

Luka moved the phone from his ear to his chest. His face pinched tightly, trying to hold back any laughter that formed. His body tensed up from holding it in, as much as Juleka definitely deserved some payback for the loud laughing she tended to do so late at night, he really didn’t want to deal with a cranky sister. He quickly moved the phone back to his ear and took a deep breath.

“Yeah, that’s true. It’s kinda funny how different we are, not that I don’t support the law. It’s just when you have a mom like mine, it’s kinda hard to keep it in mind.” Marinette laughed through the phone and his chest felt like it was on fire.

Everything about her was so sweet, her laugh, her personality, she was amazing. Even when the mornings came and his head throbbed from the lack of sleep, he would never change these moments with her for anything in the world.

Sounds of fabric and movement came through the speaker along with a small hum of agreement. “Yeah I am pretty amazing at following the law. It’s kinda like a job at this point… Not that I have a job with the law! I don’t do that. That would be weird. Uh- anyways! Your job! Wait, that's not exciting. Oh man I’m so nervous tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Melody, it’s fine. My job isn’t very exciting, but I’m sure your day was, right? Mind telling me about it? You know I love listening to you.”

A gasp came through the other end of the phone and then a very thorough retelling of the events from the day. He slowly closed his eyes and imagined everything she told him. She left the bakery this morning to hang out with Alya, she probably wore that new beret she made, along with some cute, pink shoes to match.

He imagined her sitting under a tree at the park to draw, it was sunny and hot today, so she probably took her jacket off to get comfortable. She told him how she went out to get orange juice with Kagami, he could practically hear her smile through the phone as she told him about it.

Everything with Marinette was simple, by no means easy, but simple. He knew her well enough to understand how she felt, and she was the same way with him. They just got each other. She didn’t need to tell him the details because she knew he would already know. When he tried to explain a decision he made in a new song, she didn’t have to know what he was saying to understand him. Luka found it easy to just ignore the details, because Marinette was talented enough to fill them in herself.

Luka stayed quiet as he processed her words, filling in the details himself. He loved spending his nights like this, he didn’t mind messing with his sleeping schedule (or lack thereof). He loved to replay every moment of sincerity and kindness she showed throughout her day. He loved to hear about new projects she worked on, because her talent went beyond anything he’d ever seen.

She was miraculous.

“-But yeah, I guess that was my day! Not super exciting, but I think it was okay? I hope it was, at least.” Exciting? That was just one of the many adjectives he could use to describe her. Talented, exciting, clumsy, but so intelligent. Even on her dull days, he got excited just hearing her about random thoughts she had throughout the day. “Marinette… you’re extraordinary, honestly. Your day sounds wonderful. You’re wonderful. I don't know- You make me feel wonderful.”

Was he oversharing? Probably. He was definitely bad with words, but he wasn’t lying. His hands fisted his shirt as he waited for a response. The other end of the phone call went strangely silent. He could faintly hear the hum of the phone and the waves of the water outside his window. Why did the phone get quiet?

The last thing he’d ever want to do was make her uncomfortable, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. What if he told her too much? A soft squeal pulled him out of his thoughts and he focused back on the phone. “Um-! That’s...really sweet, Luka! You’re wonderful too… Or- Extraordinary I mean! You make me feel extraordinary, all the time. So- I don’t know, thank you?” His chest tightened. How much longer could he keep up with this act?

Pretending to be ‘just a friend’ might be easier for some people, but it was torture for him. Did she have these late night talks with other people? Did she ever hold anyone else’s hands when hers feels cold? Did she ever kiss them on the cheek to say goodbye? Luka was never one to push his luck, despite protests from his sister and mom, but nights like tonight made it hard.

“Don’t thank me, it’s just the truth, Mari. I should be thanking you, for making my nights a lot better, y’know?”

It was the truth. But there was so much more he could say. All of her quirks and amazing qualities always left his head feeling dizzy. He could write symphonies merely based on the person she was, let alone his feelings for her.

Yet he always kept those melodies to himself, even if he wanted to share them with the world, or share them with her. Nights like these make him feel like he could take on anything life throws at him. For Marinette, he probably could.

Another squeal came through the phone and a loud thud. He quickly sat up in a panic and pressed the phone even closer to his ear. “Marinette? Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” Loud thumping came through the receiver and more panicked sounds.

“S-sorry! That was just- I just- Ugh… I dropped my phone, sorry. You just- you should know that… This is gonna sound lame, but you make my nights better too… Heck, I even listen to your cover songs throughout the day, so I guess you make my days better too? Wait, that sounds weird, sorry! I don’t mean to say it in a weird way...”

Luka’s eyes widened and his heart felt as if it was trying to beat out of his chest. His hand unconsciously moved to his chest and grabbed tightly onto his shirt. The breath leaving him was shaky and weak. It felt like the world stopped spinning for a moment.

All at once, the feelings he tried to hide came boiling over and any sensible thought that told him to conceal his affections raced out of his mind. Before he could stop himself, Luka’s mouth moved on its own.

“Can we facetime? Or anything similar to that, please?”

Without getting an answer, his phone started ringing. He turned the phone to his face and saw himself staring back. As soon as Luka answered the call his eyes wandered across his screen, taking in Marinette’s face.

Her hair was still in pigtails, but different strands stuck out in an adorable way. The camera showed her snuggled into her bed as she laid on her side, with her pink comforter pulled over her lower face, covering her cheeks and nose. A large cat pillow rested just behind her head, unnervingly staring at him. Because most of her face was hidden, Luka noticed her eyes, and suddenly he felt very self aware of his position.

Quickly laying back down on his bed, Luka awkwardly raised one arm to lay behind his head, trying to feign an relaxed appearance. He tried to give her the closest thing to an easygoing smile as he could manage at the moment, which definitely felt a little forced seeing as how he was now (sort of) face to face with Marinette. Trying to hide any tension he was feeling, he cleared his throat, inwardly hoping she couldn’t read how nervous he was.

“Uh- Hey, Mar- Melody. Love the cat pillow. Totally don’t feel like it’s about to jump into your phone and attack me.”

She raised a hand to her mouth, attempting to cover her laughter. Her eyes scrunched, smile widened, and Luka’s heart soared. Marinette managed to roll onto her back letting the beautiful sound ring throughout the room. The blanket dropped and uncovered the entirety of her face.

After a moment of joy, she tried to quickly recollect herself. She turned her head back to the phone and stuck out her tongue. “Silly. Just so you know I’m banning you from making me laugh this late again. You’re gonna make my stomach hurt!”

Luka started laughing too, loosely covering his mouth, not caring about waking anyone up anymore. “That’s gonna be a problem, you should know that I’m kinda hilarious, so you should fully expect me to break that rule. Very quickly.”

They both joined in quiet giggling before Marinette covered her mouth with her hand again and gasped. “I just told you that you’re banned from making me laugh!”

“Hey, I warned you! You can’t be mad when I literally just warned you!”

The two teens burst into laughter once more. Luka calmed down quicker than Marinette did, so he saw her laughing face a second time. She was beautiful. Every time he saw her, he swore she wasn’t real. No real person could be as stunning as she was.

Whenever she worked on a new project and her hair flopped over her face, she was gorgeous. The times when she helps their friends out, her eyes are always so gentle, she’s divine. Even when she’s stressed out, the moments when she feels at her lowest, Luka can’t help but notice how angelic she looks.

She’s breathtaking without even trying.

Once Marinette collected herself, her eyes turned soft and precious as she looked back at the phone. Even through a screen, her stare set his soul on fire. His mind went blank for a second before he lost all sense of reason.

“Did you really mean it when you said I make your days and nights better?”

Her eyes widened slightly at his question, and he finally realized what just came out of his mouth. ‘Great job, Couffaine. You just made it weird!’Luka shook his head and moved the camera slightly away from his face, moving his gaze from the phone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up again-”

“I mean it.”

His eyes shot back to her and saw how she snuggled back into her bed again. Her eyes were looking away, but the redness in her face showed him exactly where her mind was. “I meant what I said… Did- Well, did you mean it too? When you said I made your nights better?”

There it was again. The shaky breath, the longing look in his eyes, the fuzziness in his chest. With a simple answer, she turned him into putty and without even realizing it.

Luka moved his arm to rest on his eyes, attempting to hide any sign that would show how he felt, just in case she didn’t mean her words the way he wanted her to mean them. He’d never blame her for not being too clear, even if it hurt him. Any affection, whether friendly or romantic, should’ve been fine with him.

“This is gonna sound bad, but my phone is full of screenshots from our FaceTime calls.” Luka lifted his arm up slightly to gauge a reaction from her. But her eyes were glued on him, he couldn’t pick up on a clear response, so he covered his eyes again and continued.

“I… this is so creepy- sometimes I look at pictures of you and… it makes my day better too? That sounds so weird. It sounded a lot cuter in my head-” A loud cackle interrupted him and his arm shot away from his eyes. He saw Marinette digging herself even deeper into her massive blanket (and creepy cat pillow), trying to hide her laughter.

She must’ve noticed his silence because her eyes popped out of the blanket to look back at her screen. “Sorry, that’s just… that’s so cute! You take screenshots from our facetime calls?”

Her lopsided smile made his cheeks burn. He tried to gain back his level-headedness by rolling his eyes at her. He brought the phone closer to stick his tongue out at her. “I wouldn’t call me ‘cute’ if you don’t want me to call you ‘adorable’ for listening to those covers.”

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him in retaliation and hid her face back into the blanket. He took a quick, deep breath, silently thanking himself for being able to play his awkwardness off.

“I can’t believe I actually admitted that to you- That’s cold-blooded, Luka! Teasing a girl’s love is mean!”

They both paused for a second, taking in her words. The cabin suddenly felt a lot smaller than it was. His blood felt boiling hot yet icy cold all at once. His face slacked and yet tensed in different places. Looking at her and seeing her eyes expand let him know she was probably feeling the same way.

“Love?”

It sounded so easy. When she said it, it felt right. Full of affection without being overbearing. But then Marinette’s gaze moved off screen. She sunk into herself, yet not playfully like before. The energy of the call changed into something else, something new. “I… shouldn’t say anymore. I’m… sorry, Luka. I’m so sorry; I feel so selfish. I call you so late just to ruin your night by making things weird, and I’m so sorry.”

He watched as she shifted in her bed; he saw the edge of her thumb on the screen, hovering over it, as if she was about to end the call. “That’s not-! Marinette, that’s not true. If you’re selfish… If you’re selfish, then I must be the most greedy guy in the world.”

Marinette swiftly stared at the screen, her mouth opened as if she was going to rebuttal his statement. Before she could, he spoke first.

“I’ve been staying up every night, hoping and begging that you’d text me, or call me, or give me any attention at all. And I do it, knowing that you message me when you’re tired and need to rest. I know that spending time with me only takes away time you need to sleep. So yes, I’m selfish, and I’m greedy,”

Luka slowly sat up as he stared into the screen, clutching it as if it was the most important thing in the world, and at this moment, it was. Marinette moved the blanket off her face slightly and he saw her face flush with color. His voice felt raw as his throat tightened and his face burned. He couldn’t even register the tear that raced down his cheek. When did he get so emotional?

“But Melody, Mari, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I want your attention so bad. I want your affection and anything else you give me. I’ve been trying so hard to bite my tongue around you, to pretend like I think of you as my friend. But I love…”

He shut his mouth fast. What was he doing? He was destroying everything for these feelings. Why would she like him? She gives everyone affection. Marinette loved everyone, it was just who she was. What was he doing? He looked around his room and realized the situation he put himself in. He quickly put his phone on the bed next to him and pulled his knees to his chest.

Did he ruin their relationship? Would she stop having these late night talks with him? Would she still hold his hands when hers felt cold? Would she ever kiss his cheek to say goodbye again? What was he doing?

This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. It all happened so fast. He reached for his phone to apologize and to hopefully scavenge whatever was left of their friendship.

“I love you too, Luka.”

His hand stopped just above his phone and he waited. He listened to the small buzzing sound from his phone, the waves moving against the boat, gentle breathing coming from Marinette.

“I love you… and I wanna be selfish. I wanna be greedy and I wanna be with you.”

Luka found the courage to lift the phone to his face and stare back at her. Marinette now sat up, her face was bright red with tear stains down her cheeks. Her eyes were slightly puffy and he was sure his were too. The only light on her face was her phone and even with everything, she looked beautiful.

“I wanna be with you too, Marinette. Always, for as long as you’ll have me. Wake me up at three A.M. everynight for the rest of my life, I don’t care. I just wanna be with you too. I love you.”

It felt so right. It wasn’t too much when he said it. He meant it to be heavy and weighted. But it didn’t feel forced or extreme. It was just right. They stared at each other for a moment more. His eyes raced across every centimeter of the screen, taking in every aspect of her, her eyes doing the same. Smiles spread across her face as they both chuckled, their laughter laced with happy tears.

Luka wiped his eyes, trying to calm himself down (despite his teenage hormones telling him that he should continue to cry and sob from the utter euphoria he was feeling). Marinette tugged at her pigtails with one hand, seeking to find comfort.

“This wasn’t the way I thought we’d confess, y’know. I always thought you’d write me a song, or I’d make you a new jacket. Some big gesture instead of us sobbing,” she chuckled.

He stopped wiping his eyes to laugh again. His smile grew, even as he tasted his tears. “Yeah, sorry about that. I promise I have plenty of songs for you, and about you and everything. I can grab my guitar if you want, but you might hear Juleka complaining in the background.”

They shared one final laugh before the exhaustion of crying kicked in and they both laid back down. Marinette wrapped herself in blankets one final time, holding the dubious cat pillow tight against her. Luka found himself in a similar position, he laid on his side, his face squished against his pillow and the blanket pulled under his chin.

They stared at each other, making small conversation about their feelings. Luka could hardly remember all that happened after that, he felt such relief and happiness from everything that the rest of the night felt fuzzy.

He glanced at the time at the top of his screen and noticed it was now closer to three-thirty. Luka took a deep breath before sighing. He saw Marinette’s eyes getting smaller and smaller with each second.

He knew that they should hang up soon, but he really wanted to be selfish and keep her on the phone. “Luka…”

Marinette slowly opened an eye to look back at him. Their smiles grew once again. “Are you gonna take another screenshot of me?” Her smile turned sly and he rolled his eyes.

“That’s cold-blooded, Mel’. Teasing a guy’s love is mean,” he stuck out his tongue, just for good measure. But then he sneakily took one screenshot, to remind himself that tonight was real and not just a dream. Tonight, Marinette was his and he was hers, and hopefully it’ll stay like that for a long time.

Her eyes drifted back closed, but her smile never left. “...Love you… Luka….”

Warmth engulfed his chest, leaving him feeling light and airy. The mattress underneath him felt soft and perfect. The dryness on his cheeks from earlier tears didn’t bother him at all. He was content and full of love.

While the confession was unexpected, he wouldn’t change it for the world. As much as he loved her clothing and as many songs as he had for her, he knew nothing would’ve compared to tonight. As he looked back at her sleeping face, he had a feeling she felt the same.

“I love you too, Marinette.”

#pro lukamari #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #ao3 #fluff #love confessions #mlb #late night calls #late night #texting #calling #facetime

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

54. I’m not sure what you think I said, but you start calling me an asshole and whip a ruler at me and somehow, we both end up in detention

Indruck, sfw, please?

Here you go! Content note: spiders appear at one point.

I based some of this AU--namely the concept of the Crucible and how magic is channeled--on the Carry On series by Rainbow Rowell. And Duck is trans in this, because any good wizarding school is inclusive.

After three years at Amnesty Academy, Duck is used to the objects being magically propelled through the air. But a ruler zipping through the air and smacking the back of his head is a new, unpleasant experience.

He tracks it to two chairs to his left, the new third year with the silver hair. He hasn’t even been here a day, what the fuck the is his problem?

“Hey, what the hell man?”

“You know very well what.”

“Uh, no I don’t, and I don’t appreciate bein hit with a fuckin ruler!”

“The maybe think before you insult someone next time!”

“I didn’t fuckin insult you! I don’t even know your name!”

“Ahem.” Ned, their Charms professor, looks down at them reproachfully, “gentlemen, while I know the review of Zone of Truth is rather dull, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t entertain yourselves with mindless conflict.”

“Sorry, Ned.” Duck mumbles, sending his pencil shooting below desk level to whack the other guy in the leg at the exact same moment he whips his pen at Duck’s hand.

“OW!”

Ned sighs, “I hate to do this, but-”

------------------------------------------------

“Detention! Lovely, my first day here and I’m in trouble. Thank you so much, Duck Newton, for landing us here.”

“You started it!” He growls as they take their seats. God, he hopes this isn’t one of Woodbridge’s days.

“Huh, only two.” Mama wipes her boots on the mat, closes the door behind her, “Afternoon, Duck. And…”

“Indrid.” Says his nemesis, “It is nice to meet you Professor C-” he cocks his head, “you really prefer I call you ‘Mama?’”

“Yep. Never could get behind that more formal stuff. Let some of the first years call me ‘Ms. Mama’ if they really need to feel like they’re showin some deference.”

Mama is deputy Headmistress of Amnesty. The only reason she’s not fully in charge is that she’s not a witch and some families object to that. So The Quell technically runs the school while Mama does most of the actual day to day work. She also teaches a course of non-magic practical skills because, “some things you can’t magic your way out of. Like taxes.”

Duck loves her class and, while he doesn’t understand why someone would opt into this weirdness, he admires the guts it takes as a fifteen year old human to walk into a wizarding school and declare that there was plenty you could learn there even though you couldn’t so much as send a spark from your fingers.

As he and Indrid watch the clock tick down, Mama pulls a bag from her satchel. The contents are cookies, which she offers to each of them.

“Barclay tryin’ out new recipes?”

“Course he is. Kid is gonna be the best damn kitchen witch in the country by the time he graduates. Guess he’s plannin to spend the summer drivin around and learnin the food magic of different regions.” She smiles, “bet you’ll never guess who’s goin’ with him.”

“Joe?”

“Bingo. Apparently he wants to study niche cultural magic.”

Duck’s pretty sure there’s another motive; sharing a van bed with Barclay. It sounds fun, roving the country, discovering new places with someone handsome by your side.

All that’s by his side is a glower hiding behind red glasses.

“Mama? I, ah, would it be possible for me to leave five minutes early? I’m supposed to get my pairing from the Crucible tonight.”

The older woman looks between the two of them, “Better tell me how you landed here first. Ned just said it was an argument.”

“He threw a ruler at me outta nowhere.”

“It was not, you know what you said.”

“The last thing I said before you hit me was ‘“nah, man’ when Billy offered me a pizza roll from his lunch.”

Indrid goes still, “Oh. I, ah, I misheard you. I thought you said 'mothman.' I apologize. I ought to have given you the benefit of the doubt.”

He seems so suddenly downtrodden that Duck shrugs, “Yeah, you should have. But it ain’t the worst thing that’s happened to me here. Not by a long shot.”

“No kiddin” Mama leans back on the desk, “Two of you can go at five til.”

His evening turns uneventful after that; dinner, hanging out with Juno and Aubrey, half doing homework and half fucking around on his phone in his room (the agreement between the school and the government is that a long as the students don’t post vidoes of themselves doing sick stunts with magic, the government will ignore any explosions and/monsters in the vicinity of the school).

He’s never had a roommate; when the Crucible spat out his name in fire on his first day, there was no other name with it. Almost everyone else rooms in pairs or trios. So his belongings are strewn about the tiny cabin that makes up his home away from home. Which is why, when the door creaks open at ten p.m, he sits up and prepares to fire off a spell.

Indrid stands in the doorway, one bag over his shoulder and another in his hand. He looks tired.

“Hello, Duck. Ah, I guess that one is my bed, then.”

----------------------------------------------------------------

The class schedules for Amnesty are generated by the heart of the school itself. Indrid isn’t entirely sure what that means, but the heart must not be terribly creative. It stuck him in divination class. He’s been seeing the future since he was five, managing it with his drawings since he was eight. Even the professor has no idea what to do with him, since the images come in like a garbled T.V signal when he uses a crystal ball and the cup shattered when he tried to read tea leaves.

At least Barclay gave him a conciliatory caramel while they swept up the shards. It made him feel a bit better, though whether that’s due to enchantment or Barclay being exceedingly good at cooking is hard to say.

And now he has to go to “Magical Weaponry.” Magical Defense he understands; there are still lots of malicious forces out there, or even just everyday evils that it’s good to be able to ward against. Plus, Vincent is a good professor, enthusiastic and understanding.

Professor Minerva is just as enthusiastic but twice as loud. This is their first day in the actual gym, as opposed to at a blackboard, and his visions suggest it’s going to go poorly for him. As it should; he’s not a fighter, he’s a disaster.

At Amnesty, magic is channeled through objects. Most people use wands or their hands but some, like Aubrey, use jewelry (a necklace from her mother) or another accessory.

Duck Newton uses a sword. Or he’s trying to. The sword seems to be winning.

“Exert your will on him, Duck Newton, he answers to you!”

“I answeeer to only the capable.”

“Shut up, Beacon.” Duck adjusts his grasp, but nothing happens until he drops the sword and sends a spell through his fingers. The target explodes. Indrid suddenly feels a bit better about his own probable performance.

Duck notices him, indicates the practice area next to him is clear. While they started off poorly, his roommate is doing his best to demonstrate southern hospitality. He invites Indrid to eat with him, helps him when his visions offer no help in navigating the grounds, and even lent him a blue and green shirt (Amnesty's colors) for his first Spirit Day. Duck is the best thing to happen to him in his first month here.

By the time class is over, they have six broken targets, a shredded mat, and a knife that is now a very confused frog between them. They manage to laugh about it, even as Duck scoops up the amphibian and tucks him into his shirt pocket.

It’s then that Indrid realizes he has a crush.

--------------------------------------------------

“You comin to the game tonight?” Juno measures her sapling.

“Assumin nothin comes up and nobody’s tryin to kill me, you know I’ll be there.” He loves cheering Juno on during her soccer games (hey, not everything has to be magic based, even at a wizarding school).

“Drat.”

The hissed frustration draws his attention to the far end of the work table. Indrid is trying to coax his Venus Flytraps to perk up, but they remain brown and limp.

“Need some help?”

“Please, as you clearly know what you’re doing.” Indrid tilts his head towards the sapling pine tree Duck is working on. If he does his growing spells right, he’ll be able to take it home as a Christmas Tree during winter break.

“You tend to picture words or, uh,pictures when you do your spells?”

“Images work best. The trouble is that the futures sometimes make it difficult for me to picture a spell clearly.”

“What if I try describing how I’d see it and you picture what I say?”

“It’s worth a try.” Indrid closes his eyes.

“Okay. Think about the roots drawin water up from the soil, about the traps absorbin nutrients from prey. That brown is goin green as they do, they’re stems are growin stronger…” he grins as the plant turns bright green, it’s mouths open, “hey, ‘Drid, look”

“Oh!” Indrid flaps his hands, “it worked! Now I can keep them healthy and big andohno, nono not again.”

The table cracks and collapses as the plant turns gigantic, blocking out the light from the greenhouse roof.

“Holy fuck, that’s great!”

“Language, sport, but I agree.” Thacker, the head of the magical Horticulture classes, whistles as he looks the plant up and down, “this is mighty impressive Indrid. Wonder if we could use it on some pumpkins come fall…”

“I don’t recommend it, unless you want them to chase people.” Indrid points to one of the heads, which is swaying in the air and lowering closer to him. It snaps and he leaps back, falling to a pile of potting soil. Thacker raises his walking stick and the flytrap returns to its proper size.

Duck helps Indrid up, but his friend stays quiet through the end of class and on the walk back to their room.

“You know it ain’t anythin to be ashamed of, right?” Duck flips on the light, “we all fuck up spells now and then. Hell, Aubrey is on track to be the best spellcaster this school’s ever seen and she still has trouble.”

“But mine go haywire constantly” Indrid flops, dejected, onto his bed, “forget mastering my powers, I’ll be lucky if I graduate able to keep them in check. If I graduate at all.” His hand searches the bed blindly; Duck sets the weighted, plush bat into so Indrid can set it on his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never lasted more than a year at a magical school. Or a non-magical one. I started at Mt Vernon when I was fifteen. Tried Deep Hollow and Shasta the year after that. I’m powerful but I can’t seem to channel it well, and three different schools decided I was more trouble than I was worth.”

“Bullshit.” Duck rests a hand on Indrid’s knee, “you’re strugglin with somethin; that means you need more help, not less. And if anyone gets it into their heads to kick you outta Amnesty, I’ll raise a goddamn ruckus.”

Indrid chuckles, quiet and disbelieving.

“I’m serious. You know Aubrey and them would side with me, and Joe knows school policy well enough he could probably find a reason why them tryin to get rid of you was against the rule.”

“Thank you.” Indrid’s smile is a rare flower, fragile and stunning.

“You want one of those calm-down caramels Barclay made?”

“Please.”

Duck grabs the box from the cabinet of their little kitchenette, then snags a Coke and a pineapple soda from the fridge. Indrid is no longer horizontal, is instead sitting with his back to the wall so Duck has space to join him.

Under the fizz of fresh bubbles, his friend murmurs, ‘“Have people really tried to kill you?”

“Yep. Someone sent an assassin after me my first year, and there was a Dire wolf on the grounds last winter that was clearly locked on to my scent. Perk of bein a Chosen One.” He grumbles as he swigs his drink.

“...Who on earth sends an assassin after a fifteen year old?”

“Right?! Fuck if I know, they never got any information out of the guy. Fuckin prophecy I swear, I didn’t even want these powers, let alone to be some kind of hero.”

“I sympathize.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “there are prophecies around my birth as well.”

Duck clunks their bottles together, “To bein’ fucked over by stuff we can’t control.”

Indrid drains his soda, then perks up, “Oh! Oh dear, you should go if you want to be there for Juno’s match.”

“Come with me?” Duck can’t get the image of the two of them sharing a giant pretzel while smushed thigh to thigh on the bleachers out of his head.

His friend grins, “Of course.”

-----------------------------------------------------

Duck hoped, after his not-great time in middle school, that a magic academy would be asshole free. But no, there are assholes everywhere, and these ones have even more tools for tormenting their targets. He’s never been one, nor have any of his friends. The one time someone tried to bully Barclay, Dani sicked three spectral hummingbirds on them until they apologized.

Indrid, odd and new, is an easy target, though he seems to hold his own just fine (and his proximity to the most powerful witch in school does scare off many potential antagonists). But three guys in their Magical Defense class have zeroed in on him.

They’re standing in line to practice against an evil eye when Indrid’s glasses, the ones he doesn’t take off even when he sleeps, hit the floor by Duck’s feet. Duck scrambles to grab them before they get stepped on, wondering why everyone is making such a fuss. Then he turns and backs up in alarm.

An eight foot tall moth creature is where Indrid should be, red eyes wide and claws clicking together anxious.

“Who let that thing in here?” Someone yells from behind him.

Indrid’s antenna flatten.

“Fuck, wasn’t expecting him to be that big a freak” one of the bullies scoffs.

Black wings twitch.

“Newton, give him the glasses back so we don’t have to look at him!”

Indrid trills, upset, and leaps into the air at the same moment Aubrey yells, “that’s enough” and Vincent shouts a reminder about no flames in enclosed spaces and also detention for you three. Duck is to busy climbing out the window Indrid flew through to pick up the details.

One two-story fall later, he’s chasing a dark shape into the Monongahela forest. While the parts of the woods near his hometown of Kepler are non-enchanted, this chunk is magic down to the moss (he plans to write his final year project on how those halves of forest mesh on an ecological level). One of the worst aspects of the enchanted portions is their tendency to re-shape around travelers. His usual way around this is to have an unwavering sense of where he’s going and pretend the woods are giving him an unchanging path to get there. But that trick does fuck-all when he doesn’t know his destination.

After two hours of searching he’s no closer to finding Indrid, it’s getting dark, and he’s debating heading back to the school for help. He hasn’t been this deep in the woods since he fled the Dire Wolf, and he knows the deeper you go into the trees, the wilder the magic becomes. Bad news for him, even worse for his friend who's out there somewhere, upset and alone.

Eight gigantic eyes glitter at him from the dirt, and he quickly rearranges who has it worse right now.

Throwing a burst of light into the trapdoor spiders eyes buys him enough time to bolt to a tree and climb. As soon as it crawls free of its burrow he freezes; if he’s remembering right, they use vibrations to locate prey.

Fuck, that thing is the size of a VW Beatle. Why is that even a thing? No spider needs to be this big!

In spite of his stillness, it spies him and sets its forelimbs on the tree-trunk. There’s nothing else for it; he draws Beacon, pictures the spider shrinking, and casts his spell.

A soft crunch of leaves signals it hitting the ground, now an unremarkable size for an arachnid. Just as he steps down a branch, a second trap door opens and an enraged spider bursts out, looking for it’s friend. When it can’t find it, it turns and snaps its mandibles at Duck. This time, Beacon does nothing, no matter how Duck commands and curses as his eight-legged doom gets closer.

A crackle of electricity and then this spider disappears as well. On the other side of the trunk, red eyes regard him with worry, “are you hurt?”

“Nah, all in one piece thanks to you.” He holds out his hand, “you wanna head back?”

“Yes, please.” Indrid flaps to the ground, Duck following him on foot and then turning them towards campus, “you did not need to come look for me.”

“Course I did, not gonna let my friend get swallowed up by the forest. Oh, here” he holds out the red glasses, “you want these back?”

“Not just yet. That is, if this form is not too alarming to you.”

Duck takes in the glossy feathers, the charming ruff, the way the face is still obviously Indrid yet excitingly new, “I’m good.”

Light flickers from black claws, stars and flowers spinning out with ease, “It’s so much easier when I’m like this. I never foresaw my disguise charm being an issue, but the older I’ve gotten the more it seems to influence my ability to control my spells. But, well, you saw how people reacted. Even you were startled.”

“In my defense, I thought you’d been eaten by, well, you.” Duck casts the same spell, vines of light chasing the red flowers, “I’m still sorry, though. You ain’t horrible like this, ‘Drid; you’re fuckin stunnin. Never seen anyone as incredible as you.”

Indrid stops, looking down at him, “Do you truly mean that?”

Duck rises on his toes, pecking his cheek, “Yeah, I do.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The Halloween Formal is the most elaborate event at Amnesty. Indrid feels that if there’s any day he’s within his rights to be in his true form, it’s when everyone else is dressed as monsters.

He doesn’t have a date. He thought Duck was in the same predicament. Then his friend left before he was half-done grooming his feathers, saying he needed to get flowers for his hot date.

Ah well. At least Indrid will get to see him there and spend some time with his friends.

He checks his reflection in the gleaming black walls, orange and purple lights glowing and jack’o lanterns floating above his head. He adjusts his robes, the nice red ones his father sent him, and prepares to enter the ballroom.

“Hold up.”

When he turns, Duck is standing there in his black dress shirt and green tie, looking for all the world like he’s alone.

“You got one more thing to put on” He holds out a bracelet of flowers, sized to slip perfectly over Indrid’s hand. There are matching flowers pinned to one side of Duck’s hair.

“Oh. Oh my. You really-”

Duck uses a small spell to bend Indrid into a kiss; it’s a bit messy, since their mouths aren’t meant to fit together, but Indrid would not trade it for all the magic in the world.

“Yeah, ‘Drid, I really do.” With that, Duck offers his elbow and they walk arm in arm into the great hall.

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #meet ugly #wizard au

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

Text

Inevitable (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected/protected sex but be safe please!)

Chapter Word count: 7.7k

A/N: I do love me some angst but I enjoy writing soft moments just as much. I hope you enjoy this one, too! Thank you for the appreciation for this story :) Also, you can message me if you want to be part of the taglist (or if I missed tagging you)!

Series Masterlist || Previous || Next

The place that Jungkook chose is a little French cafe that has a light and airy feel to it, and you think it’ll help Jungwon feel a little less intimated. There also aren’t many people around, which is surprising for a Saturday brunch hour.

You make out the table far back, by the glass window where you can see the flowers outside. Next to Jungkook is Jin, then Namjoon and Ara. The empty seats reserved for you and Jungwon are those in front of Jungkook and beside him.

You approach them, with everyone except for Jungkook - who just nods at you - standing up to give you a hug, with Jin spending more time than usual. With everything that’s happened, you didn’t realize how much you’ve missed your friends, too. They were collaterals of this whole ordeal; now you’re glad that you feel like starting over with them as well.

Jungwon stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist when Jin comes close. He’s an unfamiliar face so it’s natural for the little one to be shy and hide behind you, like what he usually does, but he loosens up when you talk to him and make him feel comfortable, so you excuse yourself because you want him to feel comfortable around Jungkook.

You find an empty chair by the wall and sit Jungwon there.

“Hey sweetcheeks, we’re going to meet some of Mama’s friends, okay? They’re new people but they’re very kind and funny,” you say, kneeling down in front of him.

You get the brown backpack he’s wearing and take out his stuffed elephant, one of his many playmates that he likes to bring around. You place Mr. Choochoo in his arms, explain to him what you’ll do and that he can have some sweets later.

“Okay, Mama. I want some cookies,” he says in his tiny voice.

You tell him you’ll order some and pinch his cheeks, then you kiss his forehead, causing him to giggle, and you kiss him some more because you know this also makes him feel relaxed.

Jungkook watches from afar, the pang on his chest reminding him of the time lost, and he wonders if he’ll ever be like that with his own son. Jungwon is at a critical stage where trust is being developed, and Jungkook wants to be someone whom his son can trust.

The feeling in his chest grows as you approach them again. You give him a smile and help seat Jungwon next to his father.

“You remember the other day when you broke your airplane? Someone fixed it for you, right?” You ask.

Jungwon nods, eyes still focused on you.

“Good, because he’s here. Look,” you say, pointing to Jungkook. “He’s the kind man who helped you.”

Jungwon turns and looks at Jungkook, who returns his curious gaze with a grin. The little one is probably familiarizing himself with the man in front of him, as he nods and shyly smiles.

“Hi, buddy. I’m Jungkook,” he says and waves. “What’s your name?”

“Jungwon,” he whispers.

“How old are you?”

He responds by raising his hand to show four fingers.

“And when’s your birthday?”

“July 6!” Right as he answers, it registers to him, causing him to beam, the kind that reaches his cheeks and Jungkook’s heart is soaring. And just like that, the pang in his chest is gone.

You mirror Jungwon’s smile, knowing that’s enough of an icebreaker. He’s a sensitive kid who remembers kindness, and that day at the grocery, he saw it in Jungkook. You could chalk it up to some father-son connection if you like, but you also know that Jungwon tends to gravitate towards other gentle people, too.

The brunch goes surprisingly well, with Namjoon directing the conversations, knowing that it would still take some time to really settle into what was once familiar.

Days like this used to be a weekly engagement filled with jokes and unfiltered comments and hand holding between you and Jungkook, but everyone seems to be careful, reserved, almost unsure, like the glass will break at any wrong move.

Perhaps you’re all just giving this time for both father and son to be familiar and comfortable with each other. You know it will take a while but it’s something you don’t mind at all.

Jin is talking about his recent trip to Japan and his new ideas for another restaurant and you’re engrossed in his stories, until soft laughter catches your attention.

You turn to Jungwon, who’s laughing at Jungkook as he uses the macarons for eyes and makes weird faces, the latter pulling the sweets apart into smaller pieces and giving them to Jungwon who easily chews them. He offers Jungkook pieces of his cookies too, who dramatically devours them.

“My cookies!” Jungwon giggles.

You soften at the sight and excuse yourself before tears pour out and you will yourself to get it together in the washroom. You knew it was going to be a heartwarming proper meeting of the two but you weren’t ready for that kind of moment.

For all his shyness, Jungwon seems to be really comfortable with Jungkook, who’s doing so well, too, letting your child take the lead, not forcing anything, and being his usual sweet self.

Soon enough, brunch is over and you inform them of having to leave right away to make it to Jungwon’s dentist appointment in time. You place him in the car seat and turn to Jungkook, who’s now able to properly look at you, probably for the first time this whole day.

He opens his mouth to say something but his eyes lock in on your neck instead, a familiar piece of jewelry gracing the delicate feature. He stills and you’re confused, until you realize he’s looking at the necklace you’re wearing, the one with the moon and stars that he’d given you on your first year anniversary.

He told you that it was because you light his darkest nights and you squirmed at the cheesiness, smacking his arm and threatening him of getting rid of it if he ever spewed disgusting shit like that again. He loved that reaction, but deep down, you both knew that he was telling the truth.

It was that piece of him you could keep to yourself, one you didn’t have to share nor explain to anyone else. Out of everything you kept of your time together, the necklace was the only thing that didn’t make you break down every time.

You keep your thoughts at bay then nod at him and ask him what he meant to say.

“I’d really like to do this more,” he utters, eyes on your face now. “And not just on weekends. Whenever we can work out a schedule, that would be great. I mean, he and I have so much to—“

“Of course, Jungkook,” you cut him off, knowing he meant to say that there’s so much time to make up for and you don’t want today’s meeting to end on that note. “Let’s work something out, I’m sure Jungwon would love that, too.”

You exchange numbers, as well as awkward smiles, like you’re some teenagers saying goodbye on their first date. It’s a little refreshing though - way better than the last time when he was shouting and crying in front of you.

Any passerby may think it’s the makings of a romantic relationship, but if they only knew. You loved this man, and quite frankly, you’re unsure if you ever stopped.

“I’ll see you again, yeah?” You finally say.

“Okay then. I’ll see you.”

It’s not lost on you and Jungkook that you’re both on very unfamiliar territory.

During your time together, you’d had moments wherein you weren’t particularly fond of each other or weren’t in the mood yet had been comfortable in the silence. The tension was never overwhelming and you just let the moment pass until all was good again.

The longest fight you had lasted for 3 days. Yoongi called for a celebratory dinner over his song making it to the top of the charts and you were ignoring Jungkook, who sat next to you talking to your other friends.

It was an hour later when he eventually pulled you in a hug, and whispered that he missed you and won’t be drinking banana milk for a whole week as punishment for accidentally deleting your entire midterm paper. You caved in then, laughed and deemed it punishment enough, and spent the rest of the night working on said paper in your dorm, a behaved Jungkook playing mobile games next to you.

When it came to both of you, no silence was too loud, no conversation was ever unwanted, and no moment was ever too tense and uncomfortable.

Except for that time in your apartment.

And maybe now, when you’re both seated in front of each other, Jungwon to your left and of all times, decided that he just has to finish coloring the butterfly from his art class. There are two seats that have been empty the past 15 minutes, and you and Jungkook have been engulfed in the most awkward silence there is, even with the background chatter of the restaurant you’re in.

Days after the brunch and official meet up almost two weeks ago, Jungkook had asked to grab dinner - you picked up Jungwon from daycare after you were off at 6PM and headed to the restaurant with Taehyung in tow, only to find Jimin accompanying his best friend. Two days later, the same thing happened, only with Namjoon and Jin that time.

The Sunday after that, you had both Namjoon and Taehyung with you - because your brother wouldn’t confirm immediately and you needed a backup - as you and Jungwon walked to the park, only to find Jin and Jimin there as well. Everyone, of course, burst out laughing but neither you nor Jungkook found it funny.

“What are we, your chaperones?” Jin had asked then, laughing at the whole situation upon realizing what you and Jungkook had both been up to, calling up friends to join you on the weekly father-and-son dates. “You’re both adults who can very well manage conversations, don’t you think?” Jin continued.

You and Jungkook had shyly stolen glances at each other, nervous to be caught looking at the other’s reaction, because Jin had been right. You can only wonder what Jungkook's reasons are but you were calling them up to accompany you because you don’t actually know how to carry a conversation with Jungkook anymore.

You don’t know what to say that isn’t an apology, you’re nervous to talk about Jungwon and make Jungkook feel bad again for how much he’s missed out on, and you can’t really talk about yourself because this isn’t about you - it’s about your son and the relationship he needs to develop with his father.

Never mind the feeling of longing, of the curiosity over what made Jungkook come home, of the interest in his life in the US and how he’s been doing.

Never mind that you want to hug him because everything has been overwhelming and Jungkook always knew how to make you feel better with his hugs and caresses. You don’t have that right anymore, you think. You don’t have the right to ask about his life after you broke his heart, you don’t have the right to miss him, nor to get to know him all over again.

You need your brother and your best friend not just to carry conversations but also as support when you feel weak, as you observe Jungwon be so natural around his father.

Jungkook had only introduced himself by his name but Jungwon had taken to calling him Cookie Monster since their moment during that first brunch. No uncle, no anything, and you hope it stays that way.

Jungkook had also been bringing different brands of chocolate milk and you’d overheard him describe the taste and texture like a 4 year old would understand, and Jungwon had been asking you to buy each brand that Jungkook had introduced.

You'd heard him ask your son about his favorite animals, what he likes to eat when he’s sad or happy, and what his favorite bedtime stories are. You’d felt your heart balloon in size at this, how careful and thoughtful Jungkook still is, how gentle and caring, and how careful, seeing as he stops himself from ruffling Jungwon’s hair or engulfing him in a hug.

You felt like crying when you’d seen your son answer every question with enthusiasm then ask Jungkook the same things, too, and even more when he finishes coloring and tugs Jungkook to ask if he likes it.

It’s those moments that break and hold you up at the same time. It hurts to be reminded of what you deprived them of but it’s also comforting to see how natural everything has been for them.

Jungwon is shy but gravitates towards those he connects with, that he feels comfortable around, people who are like him. It’s why he’s very fond of Taehyung, and why he runs to Namjoon to be carried on his shoulder or to be tossed in the air because your brother may be serious yet clumsy but he’s careful and gentle when it comes to your son.

You used to think that if you hadn’t been a single parent, Jungwon wouldn’t be as close to you, seeing your lack of gentleness. You’d only learned to be so because you’d treated him like a fragile being, out of the fear of what would’ve happened if the fetal distress wasn’t detected as early as it was. If anything, your son has taught you to be more tender, affectionate, more loving.

You cried so many nights in the room you shared with him, and you wanted to believe that his lack of crying as an infant was because he was giving you the time and space for it, that it was okay. He was quiet, barely caused trouble, and you also believed it was his way of telling you that you can depend on him not to make things too hard, too. You’d held him so tightly every night as he grew older, and he learned to do the same.

In the moments that he'd caught you breaking down because of work or other things, he’d climb on your lap and hug and kiss you until you stopped crying. Like that one time when you randomly went on social media and saw the engagement rumors between Jungkook and Korean-American model-actress Maia Park. It was two years ago. It’s what also convinced you to finally, finally let Jungkook go and move on.

Jungwon hugged you until he fell asleep, and you hugged him even tighter, as the hope of you three being a complete family died that day. Since then, you’d stopped checking social media and stopped religiously following the Dodgers’ games, only using them as background noise since Jungwon somehow found throwing and hitting balls amusing. Like father, like son, you used to think.

You don’t realize you’d reminisced again until your phone beeps, the same time as Jungkook’s does. You’ve been in this restaurant for over 15 minutes and your friends are never late.

“Jimin says that he was asked to stay for costume fitting,” Jungkook says, reading the text message.

“Taehyung says that he tripped on a block and ended up splashing the entire paint can he was holding on his wall and it looks like the shape of a pretty tree and now he’s filled with inspiration and wants to repaint it,” you say in one breath, causing Jungkook to laugh at your deep exhale after.

“Hmm, very original,” he says.

“Very Taehyung, you mean. At least Jimin’s excuse is more believable,” you answer back.

“Well, they pulled the stops tonight, didn’t they? Reminds me of that time when Yoongi treated all of us because his song topped the charts. He said that he actually just had a minimal role and that wasn’t a cause for a celebration,” Jungkook shrugs. “You’d been mad at me for days and I kept complaining so they admitted setting it up so we could see each other.”

“Are you serious? All this time? I was so proud of Yoongi for that, kept bragging to my friends that he was big time because of that song,” you laugh, willing your heart to not go overboard with its beating because the most that Jungkook has spoken to you when he wasn’t angry, it’s to recall a memory of you together.

“Well, they tricked us then but they’re very transparent right now.”

You laugh again and you pinch yourself for overreacting to not-so-funny statements. You hate that even after all this time, Jungkook still makes you feel giddy. Now, there’s just an added desire for him to pay attention, for you to impress him, a complete opposite of how you started years ago.

It’s silent for a while, and you and Jungkook turn to Jungwon at the same time, probably thinking the same thing that the kid will be your distraction but his eyes have been focused on the butterfly, and he’s not budging. Not even when you ask how he’s doing because he just replies with a hum and you know that’s code for don’t disturb me, I’m busy.

“We should order,” Jungkook finally says, and it takes another couple of minutes before you both decide on what you’ll have.

With no other source of distraction, Jungkook settles on making the first move.

“So… how are things? How’s work?” He asks, sipping on his glass of water like it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

“Good. I, uhm, work for an events management company so we do parties, fundraisers, bazaars, things like that. It’s a lot of work but my boss is very kind and lets me take some days off to compensate for working on weekends and stuff,” you respond, willing yourself to be more comfortable.

“Oh, so it’s not the marketing firm anymore, that’s great. Namjoon said you worked over 12 hours then and I can’t imagine how tiring that must be.”

“You talked to my brother… about me?” You ask, trying not to read into it much. You assumed they only talked about meeting Jungwon, but Namjoon never mentioned anything more and you wonder why.

“Yeah, I just, uh…” Jungkook stammers, trying to come up with an excuse but he knows you’ll see right through him.

“I just asked how things were for you during uh, the pregnancy, and after.”

“Why?”

“I just wanted to know if there were any issues with Jungwon’s birth, you know? Wanted to know if he got everything he needed…”

You wince at the insinuation that you wouldn’t make sure that Jungwon would get everything he needed and Jungkook picks up on this and tries to save himself before it’s too late, before you think he’s an asshole for making such an assumption.

“I mean, of course he did. Not that I don’t think you didn’t make sure he got the best of everything.”

“I tried my best, Jungkook, and you’ve spent time with Jungwon. He’s doing well, I’d like to think that has much to do with how I raised him,” you say, your tone a mix of sadness and anger. You never had to defend yourself for how you raised your child, especially not to his father. But you also can’t blame Jungkook, especially when you’re the one who didn’t make him a part of your son’s life.

“I know, he’s such a smart and kind child. I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t do your best. That came out wrong, I’m sorry,” he says, and you believe him. “I guess I just wanted to ask if there was anything lacking or that needed extra attention so I’d know what to compensate for, like medical bills or vitamins or other things?”

He’s right, and it makes sense. It definitely has nothing to do with him asking how you were doing, how the pregnancy and the aftermath was like for you.

“What about school? Other activities like sports or art clubs? Maybe he’s into music, we can enroll him in—”

“Jungkook…”

“Please don’t tell me not to help financially because you know I will. Not just because I’m obligated to but because I want to,” he sighs.

“Yeah, I guess we need to talk about that…” You say nervously.

“I can cover everything he needs. Does he need to switch to a better school? He’ll be in primary school next year, right? Are there other toys he wants? Maybe I can—“

“I’m doing perfectly fine in providing those, Jungkook. He doesn’t need ‘more’ or ‘better.’”

“I’m not saying you aren’t, I’m just saying I can help so that…”

He holds your gaze, knowing he can’t make you feel like he’s antagonizing you. When he asked Namjoon what you went through, he admits he wanted to feel some form of pity, as if to mask or replace the overwhelming feeling of pain and anger. Anything would’ve been better than those.

After that, the feeling turned to sadness, to helplessness, like defeat, knowing there was nothing he could’ve done to make it easier for you, to make you understand that you didn’t have to do it all by yourself just because you made a decision all on your own.

Having spent even just a short amount of time with Jungwon, he knows that his son was very much loved, was given all the best things in the world and that’s because of you - you who refused to give him less, you who worked so hard and gave everything you could, running on the sheer amount of love you have for your child even if things were difficult. Jungkook doesn’t want you to feel alone, especially in providing for Jungwon.

What Namjoon said hit him, how you only ever asked help if it was about your son, but never when it was about you. Jungkook knows you still wouldn’t, so he’ll make sure to ease the financial burden, the worry, the stress, the amount of time you spend taking care of your child that’s taken away from the time you spend taking care of yourself.

Because he’s noticed - he’s noticed the bags under your eyes, the slight shaking of your hands that’s probably from the excessive amount of caffeine intake, your work phone that constantly buzzes even when you’re off the clock, your consumption of sodas that signifies your heightened stress.

There’s a droopiness to your face, a mark of tiredness that’s laid permanent residence in your whole being. He doesn’t even wanna ask when the last time you had proper rest was.

“I’m saying I can and want to help so you can have time for yourself, too,” he continues. “So you won’t feel the need to clock in extra hours or take extra jobs, so you can have actual time of not worrying about anything. I mean, kids can sense if their parents are stressed and they can acquire that...”

Your eyes widen at his statement again, causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration because he’s really not saying this the way he wants to, but then he also doesn’t know how to tell you these things without him sounding like he believes you’re not good enough for Jungwon. Because you are, more than he can imagine.

“I’m terrible at this,” Jungkook says.

But you laugh. You laugh because he looks stressed and worried over what he’s telling you but you get him. Mad as he was a few weeks ago, you know he’d never harbor such terrible feelings towards you to the point of doubting your capabilities as a mother.

You wish he means more, though, but you settle for this. He will help in all ways he can because he doesn’t want you to be too stressed out. Jungwon is at the age where he can pick these things up; your habits are things he can acquire and you don’t want that.

“It’s okay, I understand,” you smile, and it’s the softest one you’ve given Jungkook since he’s arrived.

“Jungwon will be starting primary school next year so there’s this kindergarten I saw; they balance the learning with the arts really well and they do a lot of field trips and I think it’s a good transition to first grade.”

“That sounds really good. So that’s where you plan to enroll him this fall?”

“Yeah. It’s private though, and it’s affiliated with the primary school I was hoping to enroll him in next year, that’s also private. I was gonna get a loan from the bank and—”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. I can take care of his fees in kindergarten and daycare too, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s too much, Jungkook.”

“It’s not. You’ve worked too hard the past 5 years. You can take care of the other essentials because you know him best. Let me take care of the others, and vitamins too and check ups and stuff. Please.”

He’s insistent and you know he won’t budge. You also know it’s his right and obligation to do all this.

“Okay, then. Whatever I save can go to his college fund.”

“Which I’ll also be contributing to…”

“Yes, that’s correct,” you smile.

The food arrives and the silence isn’t as suffocating. It’s a first step, deciding on the financial aspect of raising your child. You know there are many others, but there’s definitely one very important one to discuss.

Jungkook clears his throat and peeks at Jungwon who’s busy with his stew, mindless of the others around him, with you constantly wiping his cheeks and reminding him to drink his water. You turn to Jungkook with a curious gaze.

“When can we uh, tell him about me?”

Of course. When will you tell your son that Cookie Monster is actually his father?

“Oh, uhm. Well. He’s definitely comfortable around you already. But I think it’ll take some more time. I don’t wanna rush him because it’s big news since it’s just been me and his uncle Taehyung and uncle Namjoon for a long time and…”

“No one else?”

“What do you mean, no one else? I mean of course there’s Jimin but they don’t see each other as much and…”

“You know what I mean,” he says softly, as if he doesn’t want to directly say it.

“Oh. Uhm. Well, I dated someone before but like, it wasn’t—“

“Did he want to be Jungwon’s father? Did Jungwon like him?”

“I don’t introduce men I go out with to Jungwon, Jungkook. I mean, the men know I have a son but I never introduce them.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you need to ask? It’s only you. It’s always just gonna be you.”

“Has he asked about… me?”

“Just twice. He’s curious but he doesn’t dwell on it.”

Jungkook just nods, taking everything in.

“I always planned on telling you, Jungkook. I hope you know that. I just needed the right time, and I had to figure it out especially after your en…” You pause, hoping not to open this can of worms because things are already going well.

“My what?”

“Your supposed engagement with…”

“Those were rumors, ___. We were never engaged, never planned on it,” he corrects.

“So you two aren’t…?”

“We broke up over a year ago.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

“Relieved?” He smirks.

“Just thought that, you know, Jungwon will have another mother and he’ll call her like, Mommy or Mother or something and she might be more fun and gorgeous and—“

“Hey,” Jungkook interrupts your rambling. He chooses not to comment on your now glassy eyes, which stare at his hand that’s found itself on top of yours. He immediately removes it and calls for you to look at him.

“That’s not happening, okay? And if I did marry someone else, that woman will just be a stepmother by name. You’re Jungwon’s mother, the only one. No one will be more fun and gorgeous in his eyes, you got that?”

“Yeah,” you mumble. “Thank you.”

You decide to dial it back before your thoughts go elsewhere. “But going back to your question, let’s play it by ear, is that okay? He’s very attentive so he’ll maybe ask more about you one day. I also don’t want to rush him.”

“Sure, I mean. I don’t wanna scare him away too. We’ve been making progress.”

“I know! He’s very natural around you.”

“Doesn’t mind me when he’s coloring or eating, though,” Jungkook pouts.

“You’re not alone in that,” you laugh. “This one time, he was coloring this picture of a unicorn and I was trying to get his attention because it had been a long day and I wanted a hug and he shushed me and told me to be quiet. Like, this little kid really shushed me, huh?”

“Is he really as sweet as we believe him to be?” Jungkook laughs.

“Actually, when he was finished, he went to my lap and hugged and kissed me, told me not to be sad anymore.”

“Okay I’ll never doubt him again,” he smiles.

“And then there was one time, I baked muffins and I asked him to try so he was nibbling the edges, then the crown. And he was taking his time! And I kept asking if it was good and he was just humming until there was just the center left that had some chocolate custard and he ate it in one bite and was just smiling at me then…”

You pause at Jungkook’s longing smile, the kind where he’s happy but also wishes he’d been there.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…”

“No, no. Please. I wanna hear these stories. Don’t hold back. Don’t mind how I react,” Jungkook explains. “At least I won’t have to imagine how he was like growing up.”

Your heart warms at this, at the shift from the angry man the other week to one who’s now softening at the stories of your son, something that’s making you feel a hundred times better.

Jungkook meant it when he said that he just wants to focus on what happens next. He’s spent so many sleepless nights thinking about the night of the break up, what went wrong, how different things would be, all the what if’s in your relationship, and in his relationship with his son.

He has let himself feel all the negative emotions towards you and he didn’t like it, didn’t like that he could feel all that for the woman who’d been his world, his light, the love of his life. He doesn’t want to focus anymore on the time lost but on the time he can make up for, for the time that he now has.

You indulge him, tell him stories about Jungwon, how he was a little late with talking and used to write letters from right to left, how you worried about this but how it was easily addressed, being that Ara is a developmental pediatrician and had taught you different practices to ensure his speech and cognitive skills are in tune with his developmental stage.

You talk about his first steps, his first trip to the park, and how he’s afraid of the water - just like his mother, Jungkook says. You talk about how he likes fish so much so he doesn’t eat them, but that he loves vegetables and would only throw tantrums if he doesn’t get to eat sweets.

And you talk about how respectful he is, charming in his own shy and soft ways but a fighter all the same, how he’s very smart and can do many things on his own.

“He really took the best parts of us, don’t you think?” Jungkook says, as he looks at Jungwon who’s coloring a ladybug this time. “Strong and independent like you, charming and cute like me?”

You burst into laughter. “You think those are your best qualities?” You ask.

“I mean there’s more and I could definitely list them all now but also, look at him! He’s so adorable, and he got that from me!”

“He is, and he did get that from you, I won’t lie,” you say, something that you always thought about, how the universe was cruel and wonderful at the same time for gifting you a child who looks just like the man you loved with all your heart, who reminded you everyday of what you lost and of, ironically, what you still had.

“He has your lips, though, and those scrunched eyebrows when he’s focused,” he points out, and he says it with so much affection. “I’m sure there’s more he got from you and I can't wait to discover them all.”

“Me, too, Jungkook. Me too,” you say, ignoring the thrumming of your heart.

It’s Jungwon’s yawn that forces you and Jungkook out of your bubble again, not realizing the time that’s passed. You’re glad you had an early clock out today so at least it’s not yet too late and the little one can make it to bed on time.

The dinner ends and Jungkook walks you and a sleepy Jungwon to your car, the silence a welcome one this time.

“So, I have a busy rest of the week so uhm, can we meet on Saturday? There’s a park with this cool playground near my apartment; I think Jungwon will like it there. We can have lunch after,” Jungkook says as you close the backseat door.

“Of course! Just text me the address and the time and we’ll be there,” you respond, liking this new dynamic between the both of you, texting each other on when and where to meet, freed up schedules and all.

You both stand there awkwardly though, unsure how exactly to end the night, given that your friends had ditched you both. Your phones beeping saves you this time.

“How was it?” You and Jungkook say at the same time.

“They’re not even being subtle about it,” he laughs.

“I bet they’re actually together right now, thinking of the best time to message,” you say.

“Probably not expecting we’d go on this long, too,” he mumbles, peering up to look at you with that shy smile of his, and you hope there’s no physical manifestation of how flushed you are right now.

“It was a good night. Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Thanks, too. So, uh, I’ll go ahead,” he says, then nods and turns away. It was a good night, and it was the first time that he felt comfortable, light. Like things were okay, like things are really going to get better.

His mind goes back to weeks ago at your apartment - how he acted, the anger seeping through him, and how you looked - tears falling helplessly down your cheeks, a sight he’s never seen before, and one he doesn’t want to see again. He couldn’t hold you then, he didn’t have the mind nor the heart to. He’s not sure if he’s ready now, so he settles with words instead.

“___,” he calls out.

You turn around, not really expecting anything else, and for a moment, your heart stops beating.

He walks towards you with a shy look on his face, although his eyes avoid yours.

“I just, uh. I just wanted to apologize for that day at your apartment when I—“

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—“

“Just let me, please,” he interjects you this time, his voice soft, and a long breath escapes him. “I’m sorry.”

“I won’t accept it. You shouldn’t be sorry for the things you said because they’re what you felt. They’re warranted and—“

“Then I’m sorry for how I said them. That’s, that’s not who I am. You didn’t deserve that,” he stammers.

“I did,” you respond, and there’s a pang in his chest at your resigned tone. “And it’s okay. I would’ve reacted the same way.”

“I know I’ll never truly understand why, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for him.”

“He might’ve been unplanned but it doesn’t mean he’s a mistake. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” you say, meeting his eyes.

It’s a moment you share that needs no words, and Jungkook nods and leaves it at that because deep in his heart, he knows that Jungwon is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, too.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” He says.

You mumble an okay and head out, forcing yourself to stop smiling like an idiot the whole drive back home.

[To: Jungkook] We’re home. Thank you again.

[From: Jungkook] Alright! I had a really good time tonight. Sleep well, you two. Good night :)

And with that, you don’t stop smiling like an idiot until you fall asleep.

You trip over trains and dolls on the floor, hastily putting them in the box that houses most of Jungwon’s toys. You place all the laundry in the washing machine, quickly fix your bed, and remove the clutter on the coffee table.

By some not-so-great turn of events, you had a client schedule a 2PM meeting on a Saturday that you couldn’t turn down, which meant that you then had to meet your team at 11AM to prepare.

You’re glad that Jungkook didn’t make a fuss about it when you called him in the morning, saying that you can’t make it to the park like you agreed to do. You trust him dearly but it’s still too early in the getting-to-know-you stage, so you’re not sure how Jungwon will take it if he spends the day with Jungkook without you. You expected him to reschedule but said his Sunday is full and asked if he could just go to your place instead.

“He and I can just play or watch cartoons, is that okay? I was really hoping to spend today with him but if it’s too much, that’s fine,” Jungkook said over the phone.

You didn’t have the heart to turn him down so you agreed.

You tried to do whatever cleaning up you can manage because you didn’t want him to judge you for still being a little messy and you wanted everything organized while you focused on your meetings.

With Jungwon bathed and with snacks placed on the table, you think you’re ready for your guest, who should be arriving right about now.

The doorbell rings and it’s a familiar sight, but a welcome one. You lead Jungkook in, tell him it’s just a humble one-bedroom apartment and he waves you off. He settles the lunch he bought on the table - noodles and seafood pancakes, Jungwon’s favorites, you'd mentioned.

“He’s in the room, I’ll go get him,” you say, and walk the several steps to your bedroom.

Jungkook looks around and takes it in. He was too angry the last time he was here so he didn’t pay much attention. It’s pretty clean, he thinks, and laughs at the thought that you probably did a quick clean up before he arrived since you’re not usually this organized. Or maybe that’s changed with you too, as with other things.

“Hey, buddy,” Jungkook greets. He kneels and tells Jungwon that they’ll be spending time today while Mama works and Jungwon says he’s excited. He leads Jungkook to your not-so-grand living room and takes out some dinosaurs from one box, mumbling about them being in trouble, then opens another one.

“Then Ironman saves them all!” Jungwon announces.

The look on Jungkook’s face is unrivaled, the kind you secretly have been hoping for, hence why you deliberately kept this from him; you wanted Jungwon to be the one to reveal his undying love for the superhero. You’re surprised he’s never mentioned it before, but you also think that he wanted to show-off his toy collection first.

“You’ve been holding out on me!” Jungkook tells you. “He… We… We both believe in Ironman supremacy, ___. He’s really my—”

You nudge his shoulder before he prematurely reveals the truth, and you laugh at his expression and his wide eyes as he goes through the Ironman box because of course it has its own, as all the toys are delicately placed inside.

Jungkook is in awe but really, it’s not much. They’re all just different versions of the same dolls and cars. You’ve tried to limit this because Jungwon will outgrow them at one point, but thinking about Jungkook’s continued love for the superhero, you think Jungwon actually might not.

The two get in their groove immediately and sit side-by-side, Jungwon introducing each of his toys because each Ironman has a different name. Jungkook indulges him and starts making sounds and Jungwon joins him until it’s just a chorus of pppshssss and bangbangbang and pfffffftpboom and you can’t help but laugh along.

Taehyung always deemed those superhero movies to be too loud so he wasn’t into the toys either, and Namjoon would always end up explaining the science and ethics of superpowers as if his nephew is one of his college students, so for Jungwon to have someone who just gets him, even if it’s just about making sounds and making Ironman toys fly and protect the dinosaurs from a meteor, you’re happy that the little one is happy.

You leave them for a while and set the table, asking them over to eat with neither one standing up.

“Kids,” you call their attention, hands on your waist now. “Can we have lunch now please before Mama has to get ready for work?”

This feels so domestic and so real. You miss the way Jungkook’s lips form into a smile as you refer to yourself in third person and sound as if you’re reprimanding them. Since Jungkook has found out about Jungwon, he never imagined he’d actually get to experience this.

You clear your throat and it’s a sign for Jungkook that he has to follow, as the adult, so he gets the little one’s attention and brings all the toys on the table to join you three as you eat.

It’s hilarious as they both converse with their toys and essentially leave you out but you let them, choosing instead to bask in this scene and the joy painted on both their faces. You wish this moment together wouldn’t end, though, but you also know that may be too much to ask. Jungkook is here to get to know your son, and that’s that.

You let them settle in the living room as you go from one meeting to another, stealing glances every once in a while just so you’ll have another memory of them bonding seared in your brain, for times when you need to feel better, when you want to feel happy.

The rest of the afternoon goes that way. They go from saving the dinosaurs, to watching cartoons, then playing with blocks, earning them scowls and laughter every time those tip over and crash, creating loud sounds and distracting your work. But you smile immediately at their panicked and guilty faces, until they proceed to do the same thing.

It’s around 5PM when you finish, exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungwon surprisingly still has energy, but you see him forcing it because he wants to keep playing.

“Let’s go for an early dinner, yeah? I can order some pizza then you two can start preparing for bed,” Jungkook offers.

You mindlessly nod from the dining table as you put away your laptop and notebook. “That sounds good, Jungkook. Thank you,” you respond.

“And maybe you can take a nap first while we wait. I’ll help him clean up the mess, too.”

You smile at this. Despite everything, he’s still the same thoughtful and considerate man you met all those years ago. You nod and head to them, kneeling in front of Jungwon who’s now sitting so closely to Jungkook.

“Hey, sweetcheeks. Mama’s tired so I’ll just get some rest, okay? You’ll be fine with Cookie Monster over here?” You ask.

“Yes, Mama,” he says, and proceeds to hug you and kiss your nose.

“Okay, love you my little bug,” you say, and head to your room for a quick nap, not before you call out that Jungwon only eats cheese pizza.

It’s the knock on your bedroom door that wakes you, signaling that the food has arrived.

You head to the dining room, still clad in your leggings and pink sweatshirt, and Jungkook does a double take at your sleepy eyes, scrunched up nose, and messy hair. You’re still so adorable after a nap, but he shakes off the thought before you catch him with a silly smile on his face.

It’s Jungwon’s elephant and tiger stuffed toys having dinner with you this time, and unlike earlier in the day, there’s less theatrics and you all settle on small conversations, definitely tired but satisfied.

Jungwon is busy munching on the cheese and the soft parts of the dough, Jungkook is watching him in amusement, and you’re watching Jungkook in awe, thinking of how he pulled through today, coming over to make sure that he got to spend it with his son, taking care of everything like the food and cleaning up because you were too busy and too tired to do so, even if you know he’s had a tiring week too.

You never doubted his desire to get to know Jungwon but his patience and attention to everything have really surprised you. He listens carefully to the little one, asks what he thinks and feels, lets him lead and decide games and shows to watch, and talks to him like an adult. You wonder if he’d asked Taehyung or Namjoon for tips or he’d done some reading. But regardless, you appreciate it so much. You might not have had the start you wanted but it’s definitely going the way you want it to.

And as Jungkook giggles and wipes the cheese off Jungwon’s face, as he fills his glass with water and asks if he wants more, you see the affection on Jungkook’s whole being, you see the care and the warmth. You see the love.

It’s familiar; it’s similar to how he used to look at you. And it’s this moment that you wish that he learns to look at you that way again.

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #parents au #exes au #baseball player jk #inevitable #series

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theficplug · 4 years

Text

Swipe Right

Tyler Lepley x Black Reader

warnings : none, mostly fluff with just a tiny bit of smut if you can call it that at the end. i’m not too familiar with him but i tried ! to the cutie who requested, i hope you like it. alright enjoy x Face mask on. Wine in hand. Impulsive 10$ Dark and Lovely hair dye bought at the beauty supply store already slathered in your hair. It was your time set aside out of the week for you and your best friend to complain. Although homegirl was on the other end of the phone getting ready for anniversary and was not relating to your rant of the night.

“Girl, I’m telling y’all right now if I get another unsolicited dick pic in my dms or another “You got the bill right? I’m just a lil in between jobs right now you know how it is right baby”? I’m joining a nunnery because I love love, but me and my bank account can NOT keep getting played like this.” you rant to your friends over a video call as you walk around your apartment tending to the foils in your hair.

The series of failed dates and “talking stages” had left a sour taste in your mouth and put you off from dating altogether, but your best friend Layla is trying to convince you to give Tinder another go.

“I don’t know Lala. I just don’t have another talking stage in me. I’m grown in the words of the iconic Miss New York Tiffany Pollard : I want eggs CRACKED AND SCRAMBBBLLEEDD”

Layla’s husband Aaron’s laughter erupted from somewhere in the room on her end and you raise an eyebrow not knowing that he had been ear hustling the whole time.

“Just give a little more time. You never know what can be right around the corner! There has got to be at least a few foine men on Tinder. Give it one more try.” Layla encouraged before saying that she had to go because her man had the night planned for their anniversary dinner.

You huffed and sat the phone aside as you waited for the copper coloured hair dye to process your curiosity got the better of you and you reached for your phone again.

As you thumbed through the profiles of folks “looking for a beautiful girl for me and my husband (:” and “if you a feminist, pay for our first date”. You were two seconds away from putting your phone to the side again before you noticed “Tyler Lepley” and his profile.

You nearly spit out the cheap bottle of Stella Rose on your carpet in disbelief. “No, this has got to be a whole ass catfish. Why would his fine ass be on Tinder of all places? Let’s humour him. Wait but he’s verified... At the very least this should be funny as hell.” you say to yourself before rolling your eyes.

“Okay and I definitely got to make some single friends cause I’m really home on a Saturday night talking to myself. . . Whatever-”

You swipe right on his profile and almost instantly your phone notified you that there was a match.

‘Hey I just wanted to let you know I think you’re beautiful and if you’re ever in the area I’d like to take you out sometime. On me of course.’

“Oh he’s good.” you thought to yourself as you tried to think of a reply.

‘Sure, I’d love to. I’m actually driving up to Atlanta tomorrow for work. And if it’s really you. I want a Tika Sumpter autograph when we meet lol.’ you respond having a little fun with the troll at least before you log out for the evening.

‘Oh, so you don’t think it’s me? I ain’t nobody big. Just tryna find the right one to bring home for the holidays so my nosey aunties can stop asking me when I’m gon get a wife lol.’

*attachment (1)*

“Pfft.. Anybody could’ve gotten that from Instagram or something.” you said to yourself.

He’s good though. You’ll give him that much.

‘Okay tattoos and lips! You’re handsome or whatever.That’s understandable. I’m looking for the same thing but I must be looking in all the wrong places cause if i run into one more dud that’s looking for a unicorn for them and their wife to “share”. Whew- it’s a lot lol.’

‘I get you. I haven’t matched with too many women on here myself. They either tryna see how they can get a job at the studio or they want me to be their sugar daddy. Which I ain't got no problem wining and dining my women btw. I’m just not looking for that kinda situationship. If you don’t mind I’d like to video call you cause looking as good as you look. I'm just tryna make sure you’re not a catfish.”

Hold up. This was just supposed to be a little fun and now this man is using the video call function on Tinder and you’re still sitting there with the dye on your head.

‘Give me 25 minutes.’ you respond quickly before he replies with ‘take your time’.

The race was on as you began running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off as you wash out the dye quickly and inspect the colour. It was a really pretty natural ginger shade as you grab your hair diffuser and blow out your hair a little to dry it the best you could.

After grabbing your makeup bag , you slap on the winged liner, a little highlighter, mascara, and a dark brown lipstick like you were back in school trying to get ready before class.

You fluff and shake out your hair while looking at yourself in the mirror. With 5 minutes to spare you go to your closet and pull out a cozy warm brown cropped jumper that really stood out against your deep skin tone.

“Alright, please don’t waste my time.” you whisper to yourself as you press the video call button and wait for him to come onto the screen. After about a minute and no answer you let out a heavy sigh feeling a little embarrassed and like a fool for actually believing that The Universe was about to hook you up like that.

You put your phone on the table next to you and leaned back in the chair before hearing the notification go off again.

After going back and forth about it for a few seconds you hesitantly answered the call and had to contain the array of emotions you were going through when you saw him actually on the phone, smiling at you with those pretty ass white teeth.

You put the phone for a second before letting out a ‘thank you Jesus’.

“I should be saying the same thing about you! You are beautiful. God damn. When I first saw your profile I was like man aint no way. She gotta be some sort of catfish or something. I thought at the most it would be a funny cover story tomorrow on The Shade Room or something. ‘Tyler Lepley Catfished By Tinder Boo’. I apologize for not answering your call earlier. I just wrapped on set and I wanted to be able to hear you and give you my undivided attention. How are you this evening?” he says chuckling deeply and softly as he sits back in his trailer.

“I was thinking the same thing. I’m like at least it’ll humour me, but I wasn’t really expecting you to want to talk. How are you? I was completely kidding about the whole Tika Sumpter thing by the way.” You say giggling nervously before fussing about with the window to try and get better lighting.

“Oh really? Cause i got her to sign this shirt for you and everything. I can just do a giveaway with it or something else. I like your hair by the way...I’m doing good. It’s been a long day of pretending to get my ass kicked and running lines but I’m grateful to be in even better company with your pretty self. Even if it is through the screen for now. There’s something about a woman like you. I feel like I wanna know everything.” he compliments and flatters you and it’s taking your mind a while to process that this is not some extreme episode of Punk’d.

“YOU DID NOT! Of course I want the shirt. I was just fronting cause I didn’t wanna seem like that’s the only reason why I wanted to talk to you. Also, thank you. You just seem like someone who’s got his shit together and I really like that. At this stage in life people think I move too fast or that my standards are too high. I think it’s just because I know what I want. I want to be married, I want to be happy and comfortable. I eventually would really like to have kids. I want to have kids young so that I can have even more time loving them and my own little family..” you don’t like to waste time with the small talk. That’s nice too but you like to get straight to the point so that you’ll know if your views on life are aligned.

And just like that you two begin to connect instantly . You talked and talked for hours from the time he left his trailer to drive home and halfway into the night.

You actually ended up falling asleep on the phone with him because neither one of you wanted to hang up.

Scheduling conflicts prevented you from meeting up with him the next day but of course that didn’t stop either of you from constantly just wanting to hear from each other.

4 weeks later after non stop talking and sending pictures and videos of your day when you couldn’t talk to each other. Both of your schedules lined up perfectly and you ended up meeting in Atlanta.

You met him at a little cozy cafe and he held the prettiest bouquet of scarlet roses in one hand and a coffee for you in the other while standing with a huge smile etched across his face.

“Hey handsome” you say to him before leaning in to hug him but was not expecting the peck to the lips.

Even though you’ve discussed it and you’re both “if the vibe is right fun is not off the table” kind of people.

You kiss his soft plump lips back and thank him for the flowers. Of course given the part of the city that you were in, he was recognized almost immediately by the barista.

“My mama and auntie love your show.They both got me into it too. We thought they were gonna kill you off this season! I was scared for you. If you don't mind, can i have a picture?’ The woman named Ericka asks as she moves from behind the desk .

“Hey Ericka, thank you. I appreciate it, of course.” He replied warmly to her before looking over at you to double check if you’re okay with everything.

You awkwardly move to the side so that he can have his photo with the giggling fan already batting her eyelashes at him.��

He softly grabs your hand to keep you close to him and shakes his head. He’s lowkey clingy in the cutest way as he moves you behind him so that you aren’t in the photo and wraps your arms around his waist before flashing a smile at the fans phone.

“Thank you so much and you are so pretty!” She says to you before trying to quickly hustle back to work in the quiet slow moving coffee shop.

“Me? Look at you and your pretty self ! I like your braids too!” You respond sweetly as Tyler beams with pride while watching you interact with the fan.

“Sorry about all of that” he leans down to whisper in your ear before walking with you out of the coffee shop.

“I don’t know about you but I ain't even gon’ lie I’m nervous as hell. I’ve been spending the last two weeks trying to figure out the best ways to spoil the hell outta you. I just think you’re incredible. From your story about all that you’ve been through to just like you. I ain’t ever had this before.” he admits and it throws you a little that he was the one nervous to meet you.

“Nervous to meet me? Tyler, you meet about 50 different beautiful women a day. I’m not saying I’m not the shit cause I am. But no need for nervousness here. I think you’re probably the most down to Earth famous person I’ve met dude. A lot of them are real snotty when I style them and stuff. Just completely out of touch…You’re always busy doing something and I’m always working on something. How about we just do nothing? What’s your favourite way to do nothing?” I get all of my favourite foods and snacks and then I just watch all of my comfort movies and shows and forget about everything going wrong with the world even if just for a little bit.” you admit and he nods along before opening the car door for you.

The entire car ride there wasn’t an awkward moment or any tension hanging in the air. The conversation flowed smoothly all the way from the supermarket to the restaurants for to-go plates, and to his home there.

There were plates of food of every kind of food you mention from pad thai to sushi, to indian food, mexican, and a plate of soul food cause you couldn’t visit Atlanta and not try some bomb ass soul food while you were there. Not to mention the snacks that you both also picked out.

He had convinced you that you two should build a blanket fort and he broke out the candles setting the perfect atmosphere for the storm settling in.

Something about the rain soothed you both as you fell over each laughing and talking about nothing and everything.

“Okay so let me ask you would have rather been on Fear Factor or Supermarket Sweep? Because this is important. I’d have to go with Supermarket Sweep because I’d rather bust my ass on tv than be in a crate full of cockroaches or something like that. I would freak the fuck out. They was wylin in 2001” you say and Tyler ponders the question for a minute before letting out a pfft..

“Easyyyyyy. I will drink the cockroach milkshake over playing on Supermarket sweep. I don’t mess with grocery stores like that. That’s why I order all my stuff online now. I've spent two many of my Saturdays missing Saturday morning cartoons walking around with my grandma and mama while me and my dad trail behind trying to get them to hurry up. Besides skydiving is on my list to do at some point.” he explains and you pretend to gag as he says that he’d take the shake.

“Good?” he asked with a little laugh as he noticed you had a whipped cream mustache from the caramel hot chocolate that he made for you.

“Mhm” was the only response he got from you in between swigs of possibly the best caramel hot chocolate you’ve ever had.

He leans in, licking it off of your lips before kissing you sweetly and gently tugging on your bottom lip as his tongue runs across it again.

“I bet you taste better though…” he says against your lips

His hands find your hips as he pulls you onto his lap.

You learned that he was talented at several things outside of acting and being inside out beautiful and a good 8- . Anyways, something you couldn’t tell your girls about on Monday.

Leaving him was too difficult two days later because you’re both those types of people where if you know , you know that you’ve found your person and both agreed to try and meet each other twice a week. Once for sure so that you try not to miss each other too much.

Maybe swiping right wasn’t so bad after all.

[unedited so if there’s a few typos i’m sorry i’ll edit them later! ]

#tyler lepley #the have and the have nots #fanfic for black girls #tyler lepley x reader #benny young

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douxspider · 4 years

Text

— 𝐩𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞. (2)

‘ARVIN RUSSELL x READER INSERT’

( spoilers for “the devil all the time” ) — After befriending the bloodied blue-capped boy in the cafe Reader works at, a friendship blossoms between the two. However, unfortunate circumstances occur, and no one’s really sure how to feel about anything anymore.

+ this is the second part to peachy keen! (ao3 link)

warnings: implied/referenced suicide, hurt/comfort, grieving word count: 3,575 published: 9/21/20 ao3 link — part 1, 3

— — • — —

“Ellie, sweetie, don’t touch that.”

You were working behind the counter, rubbing raw dough and flour off on your apron, rushing around the shop to tend to the various customers. While specializing in baked treats, you were the main mistress, while Marilyn focused on baking and cooking up breakfast and lunch for eager customers.

Elaine Beck, a sweet girl of eight years, had recently been fostered by Marilyn. Marilyn, when not focusing on Elaine’s schoolwork, would bring her to the shop to watch over her.

You loved children, dearly, but it was difficult having a sweet-obsessed child in a bakery where the goods could easily be yanked. You find yourself aging more and more every time you told Elaine to keep her hands to herself.

Eyeing the clock, you rolled your bottom lip with your teeth, staring out the window before Marilyn caught your attention, pulling out crepes for a frequent suit-clad visitor. “Time goes slower when you’re staring at the hands, sweetpea.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, shaking your head as you organized dollar bills into the register. “I didn’t mean to seem like I’m impatient for my lunch off… I’m just…”

A hand caressed your shoulder, and Marilyn pulled you in to kiss your head, you groaning shortly after and wiping the back of your wrist against your forehead. “Mary! Your red lipstick never gets off!”

Marilyn gave a hearty laugh, ruffling your done-up hair. “Y’er a sweet thing, sunshine. He’s gonna be here, and you two are gonna have fun on your lil’ church date.”

“It’s not a date,” you emphasized, crouching to pull out the baked muffins, “No one goes to church for a date. I asked to come with to hear about that strange preacher.”

The older woman placed a hot coffee in front of a woman, who doused it in sugar, returning to you with a conflicted expression. “Well, I don’t want you stirrin’ up trouble, sweetpea. You’re important around here. You’re important to me.” She smiled at you, hazel eyes shiny with worry. “Don’t want you getting involved in shady business ‘cause of some boy…”

You stared at her, cocking your head idly towards the back, and she sighed and you both made your way there. “What’s your problem with Russell?” You could not imagine Arvin having bad intentions for you. It had been about a month or so since he had come in that rainy afternoon, and since then being in Ohio hasn’t seemed that bad. He had made no moves or adjustments towards you that were defined as uncomfortable.

“Nothin’, nothin’, he’s a sweet boy. Conflicted, but sweet,” she continued, “Y’ain’t wanna be caught up with those who be unsure of themselves…” Marilyn trailed off, wiping her hands with a cloth that had pies stitched onto it, “Goin’ to church ain’t like you, darling, I don’t want you to be changin’ yourself. You’re good just the way you are and don’t let no fool of a man or lass tell ‘ya otherwise. If this boy makes you happy—”

Interrupting, you said, “It has nothing to do with… with romantics, ma’am. I want to have faith,” you mumbled as you turned away from her, pretending to be busy with cleaning silverware. “I want to believe. I want to have a friend.”

Silence fell, and Marilyn gave you a smile with the fruit red lips of hers. “M’kay, darling. You won me over.”

Grinning at her, the bell jingled, and you peered over to see Arvin walking in, tipping a hat to Elaine, who was bouncing in her booth and talking to him excitedly.

Marilyn moved forward, and you leaned back, holding your hands up. “No kisses.”

She sighed, amused, and gave you a bear hug instead.

You pulled your apron off and hung it up before exiting the backroom and curving around the corner, smiling at Arvin, who met your eye and returned the gesture.

“Nice to see ‘ya on this beautiful Sunday,” you spoke up, swiping the sleeves of your dress.

Arvin’s expression softened, and he moved his hand up to your forehead, catching you by surprise. His thumb rolled over your forehead, wiping at it twice before raising his eyebrows, “I’m guessing sweet ol’ Marilyn McCann didn’t let’cha go without a cherrybomb kiss of hers.” He revealed the red stain on his thumb, and you whipped your head back to see Marilyn giving a knowing smirk at you before fixing up dishes. You looked back to him.

“Thank you for that… I would’ve been so embarrassed walking into a church with that on my face,” you sighed.

“Not a problem.”

“Don’t be gone too long, sissy!” You both looked over to see Elaine pouting at you, “I wan’ my icecream. You promised.”

“I did. I will do just that for you, baby,” you said, poking her nose. “If Mary says you behaved, you’ll get an extra scoop with any topping you want. How’s that?”

“Good!”

Exiting the premises, him holding the door open for you politely. Thanking him under your breath, you walked down the sidewalk towards his car.

“New dress?” He gestured to your fit and you looked down at it before smiling.

“Indeed. You give me such hefty tips,” you pointed out, bumping your shoulder with his, his ears turning pinker while avoiding eye contact with you purposefully. “I also needed to dress nice for church.”

Arvin rubbed the back of his neck as he opened the front door for you. “Well, I don’t really want much. Mind as well give the favor onto someone else.”

Once you both settled into the car, Arvin opened with another conversation. “How’s lil’ Elaine holding up? She seemed chipper than ever in there.”

The car started, and you pondered about the sweet girl. She was only fostered because both of her parents managed to go missing, dropping the young thing at Marilyn’s to be babysat and vanishing. “I don’t know. She hardly ever mentions her parents. I don’t think she remembers them at all, she calls me ‘sissy’ and Mary ‘mama.’ I don’t even live with them.”

“You seem to be the kinda sis that spoils,” Arvin pointed out with a grin, causing a feigned offended gasp from you. “Two scoops of icecream for such a tiny thing? She’ll explode. Poor girl.”

You shrugged. “Keeps her little fingers out of the pies.”

The radio played a sweet Paul Anka song, Puppy Love. You swayed to the beat very slightly.

—You'll be back (you'll be back)...

“So uh… why church, Y/N?”

...in my arms (in my arms)...

Glancing at him, you shrugged. “Why not? I want to see what the rage about that preacher is about.” Arvin winced at this.

Once again...

Arvin licked his lips very slightly, eyeing the rearview mirror before returning his eyes to the road. “Y’told me you’re no girl of faith. No loony preacher is worth that.”

Someone help me, help me please. Is the answer, is it up above?

“I also said I’d do it if God brought me something good,” you pointed out, leaning towards him with a finger up. You then leaned your shoulder against the door, staring out the window, saying carefully, “And he did. I keep my promises.”

How can I, oh how can I ever tell them?

“This is not a puppy love…” you sang under your breath, turning your head to look at Arvin, whose glance quickly skewed back to the road. “Do you like this song?” You asked.

Arvin shrugged, quirking his lips up. “I uh… I’m not really a music guy.”

You blinked, raising your eyebrows. “Not a music guy? Hm, that’s fair.”

“Can’t really relate with all they sing about,” Arvin explained, “usually ‘bout God or a lover leavin’ them. Not my interest.”

Now, some backstory. You wouldn’t let this opportunity go to waste.

“Are you implying the one and only Arvin Russell has never had an inamorata?” You grinned, placing your cheek against your palm.

Arvin rolled his eyes. “Nah, don’t be actin’ like that, Y/N.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a ‘I’ve been too busy carin’ for my family to even think about messin’ around with a pretty face,’” he corrected, tilting his head at you. “That’s all.”

You felt yourself grow concerned and conflicted instead of amused. Biting the inside of your cheek, you don’t know if this man had any hobbies that didn’t include beating up assholes that hurt his poor sister. You scratched at the nape of your neck before deciding to speak up, plopping your hand in your lap. “Arvin, is there anything you’ve done just for fun and not just because your family compelled you to? Anything for yourself?”

Arvin looked at you, his eyes round, tightening his grip on the wheel. “I’ve… ah…” he pondered before his face turned more red, and you started to wonder what exactly was going on in his head. Was it something… illegal? Or shameful in the eyes of the town’s Lord? “...I go to the bakery to see you. For myself.”

...Well. You pinched your dress, clenching your teeth together and looking at the road.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, if— if you are, I just—”

“You were the good thing God gave me,” you spoke up suddenly, squeezing your eyes shut, “That’s why I’m going to church. You… you’re the good thing that makes me want to have faith,” you explained, catching him from the corner of his eye, seeing a distant look on his face.

You gave a laugh and half-heartedly shrugged your shoulders. “Now we evened each other’s uncomfortable comments out,” you playfully spoke. “So… no worries.”

Arvin pulled into a long yard while the car slowed into a long drawl. With this, he looked at you, and gave a smile that showed his white teeth.

“I think you’re a funny girl, Y/N.”

—

The preaching was over, and everyone was left outside, mostly indulging in conversation. It was a nice day out— sunny, clouds dotting the skyline, a sweet breeze to ease the baring sun. You were currently trapped in a conversation with a rather old lady who was very prominent in getting to know the citygirl.

You mentioned Manhattan and purposefully avoided your roots regarding wealth and your orphan status. Luckily, you didn’t need to speak much, the lady named Darla was more than eager to give her thoughts on everything.

“The new pastor, Teagardin, he’s a sweet man ain’t he?” She smiled, wringing her hands together, “If I were younger…”

You paled at the implication, giving a nervous smile. “He seems like a sweet man.”

“I’d sure hope so.” You turned around to see Preston Teagardin approach you with a smile. “How do you do, miss? Haven’t seen you here before.”

You nodded. “It’s my first time going to this church.”

Preston tilted his head only slightly. “Is that so? Can I catch your name?”

“Y/N.”

He licked his lips, looking at the old lady and raising his brows to give a friendly, polite expression. “Y/N, ain’t that a pretty name, Darla?” Darla nodded. “Well, Y/N, I wanna see you around here more often. Having a fresh face other than mine in this church is sure nice.”

“Regardless of my city heritage?” You decided to tease. While the comment was meant to be lighthearted, a growing resentment was laced behind your words, exhausted from the odd treatment from townspeople.

Preston gave a small laugh underneath his breath. “Nothin’ wrong with being born urban.” He looked at you, and you heard your name. Glancing to your side, Arvin was approaching, a ginger girl at his side.

The ginger girl made eye contact with Preston, and she quickly shied away from it. You paid it no mind, but it was definitely something that would become relevant later on, you’re sure.

“This is my sister, Lenora,” Arvin spoke up, and you watched his eyes lock onto the priest’s for a moment. Preston walked away.

Lenora looked at you and gave a simper. “Hi, Y/N. Arvin’s talked about you…”

Arvin pursed his lips. “Lenora—”

“No, it’s okay,” you said, amused at the sister-brother banter. “He’s mentioned you before Lenora. I hear you like to read, care to give me a checklist of books sometime?”

Lenora lit up. “That… yeah, I can do just that. Right when I get home, I will.”

You smiled. Arvin cleared his throat, placing his hands in his pockets as he spoke to his sister, “Lenora, why don’t you check on grandma?” Lenora scurried off. When the two of you were alone, Arvin then murmured to you, “Y’don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to, Y/N. I know Lenora ain’t the most bright in the bunch, but—”

“I’ve been where she was,” you murmured to him, watching his gaze slowly fall from Lenora’s retreating figure to yours, brown eyes suffused golden beneath the luminous sun. “It’s all right. I actually do like reading, Arvin.” Arvin’s lips moved to the side of his face. Taking in his features, you felt your heart race a bit at what you were contemplating on doing, but you did it regardless. Your hand moved from your side to bury your fingers in his hair, grinning while feeling the slick strands against your skin. “It’s weird seeing you without that hat on.”

Arvin slumped a bit, attempting to swat your hand away. “Alright, alright, I get it,” he sighed. Though, from the look on his face, he was heavily entertained. “I know. I’ll put the cap back on.”

“No,” you spoke up. Your hand survived Arvin’s waving and ruffled the hair, loose strands cascading the frame of his face. “I like it.”

The boy you were endlessly teasing gawked at you while a bashful expression crossed his features. He sucked on his tongue before murmuring, “...That’s… ah, thank you.”

Glancing at your clock, your eyebrows raised. “I have to go. Lunch break is over… was over two minutes ago.”

Arvin gave a sheepish curve of his lips. “I’ll drive ‘ya home.”

The drive back was lighter than the drive there, until the new priest was mentioned. “Y’don’t trust that preacher guy, do you?” Arvin’s voice was bitter.

“...He seems…” you started, wincing, “I’m not sure. He’s a confident man, I’ll say that. I don’t know much about him to make a judgement.”

Arvin stopped the car in front of the diner. It was abrupt, sudden, and it took you by surprise. Your eyes traveled over to your friend who seemed to be seething underneath his skin. “Arvin?” You asked quietly.

A few glances towards you and he finally decided to face you with a lack of a smile. “S’all fine. You’re late, go do your work.”

Unable to correlate words with your sudden concern over his state of mind, you didn’t bother to acknowledge anything. “Okay…” you murmured, stepping out of the car, giving a wave to Arvin who only nodded his head towards you and drove off.

You watched his car vanish into the distance of the town. Wind blew past you, petting at your bare shins, and you rubbed your upper arm before hearing muffled crashing within the shop and a very harsh command of ‘Ellie!”.

—

The day Lenora died was quiet.

People weren’t rushing to the church, rushing to the Russell household, rushing down the streets, no one was rushing anywhere. It was a quiet day. The streets were more bare than usual, but perhaps it was only a lazy Sunday where nothing really mattered aside from church, the one day Lenora had not gone.

Watching her body fade into the ground wrapped snug in a casket, you felt the paper in your dress shuffle with the wind, scribbles of book titles Lenora suggested you before her untimely death.

Brave enough to glance in Arvin’s direction, too shy to cock your head, you noticed his mouth fit into a tight line, eyes swollen but with no sign of tears. It seems like he has already cried his fair share. Grandma Emma was weeping, her shoulders shaking as her brother held them.

The sun had gone dark, and you sat on a bench with Arvin, who had shared little to no words with you the entire day. Cars would woosh past and it seemed like the entire world was rotating just the same without the dear, sweet step-sister of Russell. The story had been tense, a little too much for you, the superstition that she was pregnant with the priest’s baby and had been encouraged to take it out, even at the cost of her life.

You gave a shaky exhale while the night’s frozen air pricked at your bare skin.

“You don’t need to be with me, Y/N,” Arvin’s accent-heavy voice murmured from the right of you, “I’m alright.”

That’s a load of bullshit. You knew that. You knew nothing about this was okay. You’d heard about Arvin’s parents before, you didn’t need anything more to know that this was opening some deep wounds the boy had thought he had stitched closed a long time ago.

“No, you’re not,” you replied.

There was nothing said after that. Arvin didn’t even look at you with an incredulous expression or open his mouth to disagree. There was no movement, no anything, as the world continued to turn, the stars continuing to move above the two of you.

It seemed unfair. It was unfair that the world kept moving.

You pulled out the list of books she had recommended you. Her handwriting was surely girlish, curly with hearts for dots, but it was perfect for her type of character. Lenora was a good girl. You felt your thumb trail against the ink stains. You didn’t know her too well, you’d be exaggerating your pain if you said this was the worst thing to happen to you, but it was definitely a loss on the town’s behalf, and most importantly, Arvin’s behalf.

“She was lonely.” Looking over, you saw Arvin staring down at your lap where the somewhat crinkled paper was. “She never defied her faith, Y/N. She was just lonely.”

Her fidelity was admirable. Some part of you knew Arvin wasn’t talking to you, though, more so at. You gave a nod at him, his sad eyes meeting up with yours, and you knew at that moment his heart had been broken into a million pieces. You heard him sniffle and the street lamps reflected the water building at the top of his lower eyelids. He moved his bruised knuckles underneath his nose and you were a witness to his throat closing on itself.

This wasn’t bold. This was a peace offering. You moved to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close to you in a hug.

Arvin was frozen still, tense underneath your hold, halting in his breath. You didn’t care if you were breaking boundaries. You didn’t care if this was something he said he didn’t need. You needed it, too, you needed to see him recover.

Unbeknownst to you, he would actually consider all the little possibilities with this hug. His arms wrapped around your waist as he buried his face against the crook of your neck. You could hear quiet struggling exhales and wetness seeping into your dress. You didn’t care for the dress.

This wasn’t a grown man crying, you noticed. This was a little boy. The way he squeezed against you, lightly rubbing his nose against your skin and giving off quiet whimpers of defeat. The world had wronged him too much. You didn’t know everything, but it felt like the tears falling from his face had infinite knowledge that you didn’t need to be told. This wasn’t the first tragedy for Arvin. For him, he most likely believed it was just another dot on the list of infinite sadness.

“Arvin,” you were quiet to say, “come to my place. It’s quiet. Let me drive.”

Arvin had no disagreements. He was in no mindset to put on his tough façade. You drove the two of you to your apartment, never leaving Arvin’s side as you both stepped up the stairs and unlocked the door.

You didn’t really know what to do from there. You both watched television on your cheap furniture, and as the night went on and mindless conversations passed between the both of you, Arvin had gotten closer. His eyes were sore and at the most random moments you could see a tear roll down his cheek. He gave no reaction to it.

“I’m tired,” Arvin breathed from beside you.

You stared at the television while leaning against the couch’s arm. “That’s fine. I can show you to my room, if you’d like to lay on the bed—”

A presence was prominent beside you. You felt Arvin lean against you and rest his head on your shoulder. “The couch is fine,” he whispered. “This is fine.”

In any other circumstance, you know Arvin would’ve never put you in this position. Though, you didn’t mind this, not at all, keeping in mind you knew he just needed a comforting presence after Lenora. You were more than eager to be his anchor however.

Moving your hand up to his capless head, finding your fingers carding through his smooth hair, you continued to watch the television in silence. This is fine, you repeated in your head. It’s going to be fine.

#arvin russell x reader #arvin russell #you #reader insert #the devil all the time #peachy keen #puppy love #3k #sui tw #my writing #douxdamian #sfw #T #multichap

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