#// bc i WANT to write but been a bit so pls be patient | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prodagustd · 2 months ago

Text

the road not taken 06 | myg

part five: all is fair in love and war

Summary: Not everything turned the way you wanted, but you were used to it.

<part five

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?), slow burn

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, fluff, flashbacks, *takes a deep breath* multiple smut scenes, protected sex and not so protected sex(?), fingering, explicit language, dom!yoongi if you squint, lots of teasing, lots of kissing, also DON’T open condoms with your teeth pls !! btw english is not my first language.

—words: 14k

—a/note: literally screaming as I write this bc I haven’t been so excited to post anything everrrr. omg this was so complicated to write it has my blood, sweat and tears on it!! hope you like it and as always I’m open to discuss this part in the asks (please do) (it’s an order)

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago

It wasn’t a surprise for you to know that Yoongi was a patient man. He never rushed things; he knew how to wait, he knew the precise moments to act and when to hold back. Tonight was no exception. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, taking his time as if the world had all the hours to spare just for you and him, he knew that the night itself was in his pocket.

He wasn’t wrong—the night was just beginning, and there was no reason to escape, rush, or leave early. But at this moment, you were anything but patient—not because you didn’t know how to wait, but because you had already waited long enough. From the way his fingers grazed your thighs during the car ride home to the kisses in the elevator, your impatience was growing rapidly. Every second felt drawn out, and you kept wondering how he could ignore the tension in the air, how you were sick with anticipation, on edge, waiting for his hands to touch you the way you truly wanted.

“It unzips from the back.” You whispered, breaking the silence of the quiet room.

He saw your bright wide eyes shining in the dark, your swollen red lips and a strap of your dress falling off your shoulder, almost feeling guilty for all the things he was thinking of doing to you.

“I know.” He breathed out, as if he hadn’t studied every part of your dress just hours before; where the zipper was, how long it was, how long it would take him to take it off.

You looked like you’d stepped out of one of his summer dreams, the kind that pulled him from his sleep, breathless and soaked in sweat in the middle of the night. Only this time he didn’t have to close his eyes and try to enter the same illusion again, he didn’t have to imagine the ending, he had you right there.

His lips moved slowly against yours, taking his time as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring every inch as though he wanted the moment to last forever. He ventured one hand up your back, searching for the zipper of your dress and finding it with ease. With a smooth tug, he pulled it down in one motion, leaving it loose. A tingling excitement swept through you as his hands slid beneath your dress, dragging the shiny fabric upwards against your skin, pulling it over your head to leave you almost naked, wearing only your underwear.

A chill traced its way down your spine, and a cold breeze swept over your body. If you weren’t so turned on by the way he was looking at you—his dark eyes roaming over you, absorbing the sight of you—you’d be embarrassed about the fact that the only piece of clothing under that dress were your black lace panties, but the man on top of you didn’t seem bothered at all, in fact, he seemed more than satisfied.

His hands were soft against your skin, he ran his fingers down your waist, your hips and over the lace waistband of your panties, making your pulse accelerate. “You're so beautiful.” He mumbled, out of breath.

"You think?" You whispered. He bit his bottom lip, nodding as his palms slowly made their way up your torso, pressing your breasts, squeezing on the flesh and brushing his thumbs over your hardening tips. You let out a quiet whimper, arching your back to meet his touch. Yoongi immediately felt tight in his pants like he was a teenager.

You quickly became addicted to his touch—the way his lips kissed yours with a fervor that ignited every nerve in your body, how he nipped playfully at your skin, leaving a trail of electric anticipation in their wake. The way he held you tightly, as if to ensure you wouldn’t move, but you weren’t going anywhere.

“Hm, and hot." He said, trailing open mouth kisses down your neck, nibbling your skin as if he was determined to mark it. His lips traveled from your collarbone to the valley of your breasts, you felt his breath against your skin and then his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue back and forth as his other hand brushed your other breast with his thumb just for the sake of driving you crazy. Yoongi was gentle, his moves were painfully slow, you couldn’t help but choke back a moan, arching your back forward already feeling dizzy. “I dreamt of having you like this” He breathed out, his lips going to your other breast, kissing your skin and leaving you undone. “So pretty and soft, all mine.”

You were sure he could see how his words affected you, that and the feeling of the fabric of his pants grazing over your core tortuously, his heavy breath and his hands over your body made you want to shut your legs off, clenching around nothing. “Yoongi…” You sighed, trying to sound firm but inevitably failing. He hummed, pulling away before leaving a wet kiss on your skin. “This is not fair.” You huffed, making him gaze up, finding your hooded eyes observing him with furrowed eyebrows. “How come you’re still dressed?”

For a moment, he wanted to laugh, but from the way you grabbed his shirt as if you wanted to rip it off, you seemed dead serious. The fact that you were practically naked in his bed wasn’t going to change your attitude towards him, and Yoongi knew that more than anyone; if there was one thing he had learned over the years was not to make you angry and even if you were far from being discontent, he was not trying to tempt the devil.

The confused look on Yoongi’s face melted away, placing a cheeky smirk on his lips right after. “I almost forgot how bossy you are.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, covering your breasts.

“Am I bossy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He did not miss the warning tone that lingered on your voice.

“You are… really cute.” He answered, dodging your question as he watched your frown disappear from your face, you smiled, accepting the compliment. He quickly unfastened all the buttons of his shirt, taking it off and throwing it away somewhere in the room, he was pleased to grant your wishes.

You bit your bottom lip, satisfied. It was a rare sight; you could count the amount of times that you saw Yoongi shirtless, including that one time last summer—but it was different this time, his frame was broader and his shoulders were wider, you could notice the subtle definition of his arms, of his chest, you swore it could drive you insane. Fuck that damn gym.

“This too?” He asked, his fingers tightening around the belt of his pants. You looked at him through your lashes, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips.

“That too.” You nodded eagerly, and he had no choice but to comply with your instructions; you were observing every move he made as you laid on his bed, with your hair scattered across the pillow looking at him like you could ask anything from him and he would give it to you. He wasted no time, straightened up and unbuckled his pants, managing to get rid of them easily.

He bent close to you, his face inches away from yours as he locked your gaze with you, his hands reaching for the only piece of clothing that prevented you from being fully naked “What about this?” He asked, playfully curling his fingers on the waistband of your panties, his hot breath hitting your mouth.

A tingling sensation filled you, and goosebumps spread across your skin as his fingers moved down your center, slipping between your tights and pushing your panties aside, gently gliding through your wet folds. He was careful, rubbing slow circles on your clit, teasing your entrance as if he were mocking you, playing with you. “Should I take this off?” His deep voice resonated in your ears.

In a matter of seconds you felt yourself becoming completely vulnerable. You tilted your head, trying not to close your eyes. “Please…” You let out in a weak whisper, feeling your skin getting warmer.

“Please?” He chuckled. “Please what?”

You had been instantly pushed into a trance, you were too lost in the sensation to be embarrassed by how wet you already were. “Please, take it off…” You said, being washed by a wave of pleasure every time his finger taunted your entrance, only to come back to your clit, sending you closer and closer to the edge.

You were sure that with a few quick movements you could do that by yourself, but there was something about Yoongi being in control that made your stomach turn, and there was something about you, uncomfortably squirming under him, slowly moving your hips to meet his fingers and patiently waiting for his next move that made Yoongi feel like a caveman.

“And then?” He continued to ask, “What should I do next?”

Then, like he knew exactly what buttons to push, he sank two of his fingers into you, curling inside you without further notice. You gasped softly, but the answer got stuck in your throat, lost in a sea of thoughts. One of his hands firmly gripped your thigh, spreading you out so he could have a better access to your pussy, sinking his fingers and pulling away so he could toy with your sensitive clit.

You gripped his shoulders to find some balance while his fingers pulled out, gathering your wetness to fuck you again without hurry, taking his time so he could watch every expression you made, the soft frown in your face, your slightly parted lips, the way you bit your lip everytime you were about to make a loud sound, you were crumbling apart for him slowly, almost without noticing.

You shut your eyes, “Yoongi…” You moaned out.

“Yes?”

You bit your lips, struggling to find the words. His voice sounded so gentle but his actions were so evil, you never imagined that Yoongi was going to be this bad, mocking and teasing you for his own satisfaction, and somehow, it felt like he fell from the sky just for you.

“You’re being mean…” You whimpered, rolling your head back against the pillow. He slithered his hands over your chest, playing with your breast as you rolled your center against his hand, trying to chase the feeling. “Don’t play with me.”

Your voice and your words were laced with sin, he had never heard you talk in such a soft and tender manner, even if you were practically threatening him.

Yoongi was aware he could only push the teasing so far, not only because you were too eager, but he also had to consider how tight he was feeling in his boxers, he knew he was in no position to keep playing with you. Still, he smirked, satisfied as he observed the way you melted in his hand.

He brushed his nose over yours “What, do you want me to stop?” He said, a mocking tone in his voice. You would’ve been furious with him in any other scenario, but in this particular one you couldn’t help but feel completely flustered.

You let out the most pathetic mewl sound you ever heard, shaking your head.

“Mmm, thought so.” He chuckled, closing the distance between the two of you to catch your lips between his teeth and wrapped you in a fervent kiss. With an urgency, he grabbed a handful of your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tilted your head to the side and opening his mouth wide open, deepening the kiss. It seemed like the only right way to be kissed; hard, sloppy and messy, he eagerly licked your tongue in your mouth and managed to erase every coherent thought in your mind as he kept fucking you with his fingers, making you moan into his mouth.

It felt too good, his body against yours, his lips kissing you as if he was about to devour you, his fingers grazing over your clit every time he pulled them out of your pussy just to push them deep down inside you again. You wished you could prolong the moment for a few more seconds, but the familiar tight feeling on your stomach warned you that you were dangerously close to your climax.

Yoongi, incapable of keeping it together any longer, pulled his fingers out at the same time he broke the kiss apart, making you finch. You whined in protest, but he left a small kiss in the corner of your lips in hopes to keep you content.

“Stop torturing me…” You said, already feeling frustrated.

“Is this what you call torture?” Yoongi scoffed, his voice hoarse. He reached for the nightstand next to his bed, pulling open the drawer. You heard his hand quickly going over some clutter, removing things until he finally found what he was searching for. “What about me? Watching you about to cum while I’m fucking hard.”

Your eyes inevitably traveled south, observing the outline of his cock under his tight boxers. You gulped, that view was enough to send a shiver down your spine. Even if he was struggling a bit with the whole situation, Yoongi knew he could die happily right there, he could not complain at all.

When Yoongi noticed the way you were ogling him, your thoughts drifting elsewhere, he tried to catch your attention by holding up the small condom package in front of your face, its glossy surface glinting under the light. “Open it.” He just said.

You paused for a brief second, then decisively bit the foil, opening it with your teeth.

Fuck.

If Yoongi wasn’t completely hard before, now he felt he could explode right in this moment.

“Fuck, you might kill me tonight," He breathed, surrender evident in his voice as his gaze lingered on you, trying maintaining his composure, though impatience was beginning to creep into his demeanor. You couldn’t help but smile. “Now let me take these off” He said, hooking one of his fingers on the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs and taking them off. You bit your lips in anticipation, watching the piece of clothing disappear from your eyesight.

“It wasn’t that difficult after all.” You murmured, making him laugh. You would never miss an opportunity to pick a fight with him.

“God, Pinky. Do you ever shut up?” He said, gripping the back of your thighs and bringing you closer to him. You rolled your eyes, but your attitude didn’t last very long; the next thing you saw were his hands, pushing down his underwear to let his cock spring free, almost making you choke with your own saliva.

You suddenly shifted yourself up onto your elbows, ever so dramatic. “Yoongi…” You cried, giving him more than one reason to feel cocky right now. “I don’t know if I can take that.” A smirk tugged from the corners of his lips, one of his hands traveling down his length to jerk himself off, determined to drive you insane. You should’ve imagined that the fact that Yoongi was so confident and cocky was directly connected to how big he was; you wanted to punch him just for that alone. This wasn’t fair at all.

Yoongi laughed, rolling the condom onto himself and shaking his head, not paying real attention to your concern. He settled himself between your legs, dragging his crown between your wet folds, you barely managed to bite back a moan, throwing your head against the pillows. “You’re soaking wet, baby. You can take it.” His voice sounded so deep it vibrated in your ears, the weight of his words filled with lust and the gentle feeling of the tip of his cock resting on your entrance were so overwhelming it almost made you miss the new endearment, but you heard it just right, even if you felt like were in the brink of madness, aching to feel him inside you.

“Then, hurry up.” You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. He chucked at that, never in a million years he thought he would have you like that, trapped under him, with a frown on your face, urging him to hurry up. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it.

“No need to rush, we have all night.” He simply said, as if he was purposefully trying to annoy you, but the truth was that, as patient as he could be, having you naked under him and not being inside you was beginning to do a number on him, too.

You let out a cry when he sank into you, slowly guiding himself deep inside your pussy, groaning. Your whole body burned in flames, but it felt too good. “Take everything for me, be a good girl.” He said, his gaze meeting the way you sucked him whole, you were too far gone to make sense of anything else. Your whole body burned in flames, but it felt too good, you gasped when he pushed a leg against your torso, burying himself inside you and reaching your deepest point, you’ve never felt that full. “Look at that— fuck, you fit me just right.”

“Fuck. Yoongi, I-” You attempted to form a coherent sentence, furrowing your eyebrows as you felt his cock stretching you open, leaving you breathless.

“How’s that, hmh?”

Lacking a better response, you nodded, letting a small whimper leave your lips. “Please, move…” You mumbled, immediately feeling how he began to set a pace, moving languidly and enjoying how your body adjusted to him as he moved inside you. He slid his cock almost completely out of you, slamming back to meet your body once again, you felt yourself dripping down his length, certain that you were becoming a complete mess. “It’s so good.” You whimpered, not even thinking straight, you were completely focused on the way he was slipping in and out of your wet heat.

Yoongi could only think how good you felt, just the view of you, overwhelmed with your eyes barely open, biting your lips so you made the least amount of noise possible, made his cock throb inside you, making him feel like he was on the verge of breaking. “You’re so tight, baby.” He moaned out, obsessed with the way you wrapped around him perfectly, the way your cunt pulled him back in every time he pulled away, the way your breast bounced in front of him as he drilled in and out of you. He was sure he wasn’t going to last much longer, and he knew that, considering that you were just about to cum a few moments ago, you weren’t going to last long either. “You look so pretty taking me, wish I could take a picture.”

“God- Yoongi…” You whimpered, his name slipping out, the only word you could grasp, filling every corner of your mind.. You felt your pleasure building in your belly and your thighs trembling as he kept thrusting inside you, “I’m not, oh-” Your voice got caught in your throat when you felt a particularly hard thrust hit your sweet spot, leaving you breathless.

“You like it, baby?” He grunted against your neck leaving wet kisses on your skin as his thrusts deepened . You nodded several times, the only thing you could do was moan in response. “Tell me you like it.”

“I- Yes, I love it, feels so good.” You slurred, feeling his lips kissing your jaw, your check and then catching your lips, kissing you softly, a gesture so gentle compared to the way he was fucking you open.

He bit your lips tenderly “You feel so nice.” He murmured against your mouth, “Want to have you like this all night, would you let me?” Your voice was cut by a moan, as if you could find an answer for that anyway. “Would you let me fuck you all night?”

You were certain that his words were going to be engraved in your mind for a long time, you wouldn’t be able to forget the way he pronounced each syllable, compelling you into saying whatever he wanted to hear, how he looked at you without any kind of inhibition, how he touched you like your body was his only; you weren’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

“Y-yes, please.” You moaned out, feeling yourself clench around him at the thought.

“Such a good girl.” He said between huffs. “So perfect, like you were made just for me.”

Completely drunk on his compliments, you sobbed, digging your nails on his biceps once he began to sped his thrusts, he could see the desire spreading all over your face, moaning into his mouth “Fuck, right there.” You said in the prettiest of whimpers “I’m- so close.”

“You gonna cum for me?” You didn’t need to tell him, he could feel the way you were throbbing around his cock, bouncing up and down and getting tighter with each thrust, it was driving him crazy.

“Yeah, I’m-“ You struggled to finish the sentence, your thoughts were all tangled, your words stumbled upon each other, “It’s too much…” you could only feel the burning sensation between your legs, your wet thighs, his hips hitting against yours filling the room with filthy sounds. Somewhere in your mind there was a version of you that was worried about the sound of Yoongi’s headboard hitting the wall, or how loud both of you sounded, or the fact that Yoongi’s building was full of elder people who will have more than a reason to complain the next day, but if you were being honest, right now you couldn’t find the will to even care about it one bit.

One of his hands reached to grab your jaw, making you look him straight into his eyes, but you were struggling to focus your crystallized gaze. “Want to see you cum for me.” He hissed, hypnotized by how pretty you looked, whimpering and sobbing around him. Without notice, one of his hands slithered between your bodies, running down your belly and meeting his fingers on your sensitive nub, tracing small circles on it to finish you. “Be good for me, baby, cream my cock.”

“Fuck, d-don’t stop…” Your eyes fluttered shut, arching your back off the mattress as you felt yourself coming undone. You had never felt that way, so high on your own pleasure, a few more thrusts were enough to push yourself over the edge, tightly squeezing around him and moaning his name like a broken record. You dug your nails into his back, clinging to him as though you might collapse if you let go, but he helped you ride your high, even if the sight of you was about to push him to his breaking point. “That’s it, baby, I got you.” He said, his voice barely hanging by a thread. His thrusts began to feel uncoordinated, a sign that he was not far from his release. “God, you’re so pretty, you’re gonna make me cum, too.”

He crashed his lips onto yours, making you swallow all his moans as he fucked himself into you, reaching his climax. The room was filled with your heavy breath, muffled moans, the sound of his skin hitting against your as you finished milking him dry, with your forehead against his, murmuring his name in the dark as you both came down from your high.

You were tired, your whole body felt heavy and sore, but you still felt like you were floating on a cloud. His lips kissed you, making you feel like you were in an alternate universe.

“You’re not real.” He said, mesmerized as he met your teary eyes. You didn’t know where this Yoongi came from, but you didn’t want him to leave.

You groaned, suddenly feeling shy. “You’re too much…” You said, hiding your face in his neck.

You heard him chuckle as his body softened on top of you. “Get used to it.”

Maybe it was time to admit that you were a bit messed up in the head, realizing you never quite knew when to let your guard down. You could excuse it by saying you'd spent so long building walls around yourself that you’d forgotten what it felt like to live without them, or you could just tell the truth and say that you were afraid.

As you rested in Yoongi’s bed, refusing to fall asleep, you observed him, wishing to be as clueless and unafraid of the future as him.

You heard his muffled voice, Yoongi’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, as he refused to go to sleep just yet. “You never told me if you like me too.” He said as he hugged your waist.

You traced your fingers along the back of his neck, gently threading through his long hair at the nape.

“I don’t, what gave you the impression?” You joked, making him bite the skin of your neck for teasing him.

“C’mon…” He said, glancing up “Tell me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, his eyes barely open and the pout on his mouth while he asked you to confirm something obvious.

“I like you, Yoongi. I really do.” You confirmed, as if it was ever necessary to do so.

“But since when?” He leaned in slightly, his gaze intense.

“I can't tell you that.”

He frowned, a hint of confusion crossing his face. “Why?”

You shrugged, trying to avoid his eyes. “Mmm... because it's embarrassing.”

“I wouldn’t care,” He insisted, shifting to lie down beside you, settling onto the pillow with a gentle sigh. You turned towards him, mirroring his position from before and resting your head on his chest, your fingers tracing random patterns along his chest.

“I know,” You murmured, your voice softer now. “But I would.” You hesitated, the words tasting heavier than you'd expected. “It’s just... it’s a long time.”

He propped himself up slightly, looking down at you, his brow furrowed with curiosity. “How long?” He pressed. “Since college?”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “Longer than that.”

He tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Mmm... since high school?” His voice held a teasing edge. “I wasn’t that cute back then.”

“You were really cute in high school,” you found yourself admitting, a smile tugging at your lips as your mind wandered back. You could still picture him, awkward in his oversized clothes and square glasses, but somehow, to you, he’d been the only boy who existed.

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “So... since high school.”

“Mmm…” You hesitated to answer. Hiding your face on his chest. You felt his fingers on your waist, squeezing the flesh so he could make you look at him. “A bit longer than that.”

Yoongi sighed, trying to think of a memory where he remembered you having a crush on him, but nothing came to mind. For someone you claimed to be the smartest person in the room, he seemed to be completely clueless. Perhaps because Yoongi always saw you as your brother's little sister, as this teenager that wanted nothing to do with her brother, as his friend. The idea of you having a crush on him since that long was crazy, but more crazy was the fact that he didn't notice at all.

“God, don’t make that face,” you complained, rolling your eyes as you shifted uncomfortably.

“What face?” he asked, his voice distant, a slight frown tugging at his features as he seemed momentarily distracted.

“I told you, it’s embarrassing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is it that bad to have a crush on me?”

You groaned, feeling your cheeks flush. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.” He shook his head with a playful grin, inching closer, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “I still want to know.”

You huffed, debating whether to tell him the truth or not.

“What exactly do you want to know?” You asked, a mix of hesitation and willingness in your voice, ready to answer his question.

“Mmm... I don’t know, when did you know?” He asked, his tone casual, though his eyes held a deeper curiosity.

“I was a kid, Yoongi,” You replied, your voice softening, as if the memory itself were a weight.

“What about it? I’m curious.”

Maybe you were the only one in the room who found it embarrassing, because Yoongi wasn’t judging you—he was simply asking, genuinely interested. But the answer… it came from somewhere deep inside, a place you couldn’t quite reach, no matter how hard you tried. It wasn’t something that could be spoken so easily, yet here you were, on the verge of telling him.

You smiled, closing your eyes. “The thing is… that I don’t think is something that I can remember, Yoongi.” You confessed “It’s embarrassing because maybe I always felt that way. I was never the kind of kid who could be easily understood, but you did, and in those moments where you didn't, you sided with me anyway. And I don't know, I felt like you saw right through me and I liked that. I guess that messed with my head, because I knew that what I felt was somewhat irrational but I couldn't make it go away, I tried but I still can't. I have always been kind of a loser.”

Yoongi’s chest tightened, as though a quiet ache settled in, deep and raw. It was as if he could sense the weight behind your words—the hesitation, the vulnerability—but he knew they were nothing but the truth. You couldn’t remember when your feelings for him began, because, in a way, he had always been there, lingering just beneath the surface of your thoughts.

He reached out, his hand gently threading through your hair before sliding down your back, pulling you closer to him.

“You're not a loser, Pinky,” He murmured, his voice low and steady as his fingers found the back of your neck, keeping you anchored to him. “And you’re not difficult to understand. You’re not irrational, or crazy, or losing your mind.” A soft laugh escaped you as you listened to him list off your most frequent self-deprecating phrases.

“Isn’t it a bit embarrassing, though?” You whispered, the words barely escaping your lips

“What, having a crush?” He asked, letting out a small chuckle.

You nodded, but a part of you wanted to shake your head, to clarify that it wasn’t just about the crush. It was the way you had fallen in love with him—because, somehow, he was the only one who could ever truly understand you.

“For this long?” You whispered.

“Nothing wrong with that,” He replied, his fingers gently tracing through your hair, the touch soothing.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you pressed a kiss to his chest, settling closer against him. You felt a wave of warmth washing all over your body.

“You're too good to me.”

He let out a soft laugh, sitting up straighter on the bed. “Come here,” He murmured, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer with ease. “I want to kiss you until you give me a toothache.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of his touch as his hands cupped your face. “I’m too sour to give you a toothache.”

“No, you're sweet,” He insisted, his grip tightening around your waist. With a playful move, he slid one of your legs around his, drawing you onto his lap. “You're nauseatingly sweet. Now shut up, sit here.” You settled on his lap, still shaking your head in defiance, even as your body remained pressed against his. “I want you to ride me.”

You snorted, surprised. “I have to shower...” You murmured, trying to pull back, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders to create some distance.

“Ride me first,” he breathed, his voice low and insistent. “Then we’ll shower.”

He leaned in for a kiss, grabbing your waist to keep you pressed to his body. “We?” You asked against his lips, chuckling.

You didn’t forget the fact that you were still naked, he kept kissing you, aligning your hips so he could rub your slit with his cock, making you wince. “Don’t you want to shower with me?” He innocently asked, pressing down your body against him so there was no space between the two of you.

You bit his lip, making him let out a small moan against your mouth. “Maybe…” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Why would I want to?”

“‘Cause I’ll make you cum.” He said without any trace of hesitation in his voice.

You groaned, rolling your hips against his body. “Really?” You kept teasing. He nodded, leaning back against the headboard, his hands sliding to your ass to pull you closer. “How?”

He raised his hips to meet your entrance, teasing your clit with every movement. From a second to another, you were trapped in a trance again. “First, I’m fucking you with my fingers.” He slowly said, his voice deep as he left a kiss on your neck, his palms gripping your ass to press you closer to him. You nodded, enjoying the way he handled you as he pleased. “And when you’re close I’m gonna start eating out that lovely pussy of yours. But when you think you’re just about to cum I’ll stop.” You whimpered, your head already spinning at the thought. The only logical thought in your mind was that Yoongi should be thrown in jail for the way he spoke, and the way he was moving. “I will only fuck you with my cock when you’re begging me to fill you with my cum, would you like that?” You let out a shaky breath, nodding, not thinking much about what you were agreeing to. “Would you like me to cum inside you, baby?”

You nodded pathetically, your eyes fluttering shut as he ease the ache between your legs every time he rolled his hips against your body. You felt yourself clenching around nothing, feeling completely ridiculous at the thought of cumming like this. Suddenly, he stopped his movements, making you open your eyes to look at him.

Yoongi was looking at you with a mischievous smirk on his face, ready to tease you. “Or I can let you go, I don’t mind.” He murmured, leaving an innocent kiss on your lips.

You punched his arm, annoyed at him. “Fuck you.”

It was like the secrets of the world were held inside Yoongi’s bedroom, because you haven’t left since you arrived.

You knew you should probably leave, give your mother a New Year’s kiss in person rather than sending a quick text, change into fresh clothes, and get some proper sleep. But inside these four walls, it was as if time had not passed. You’d woken up this morning beside him, determined to be the kind of girl who slipped away early, left no trace and didn't linger. But instead of the cold chill of the morning, you felt the warmth of his chest against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist, his breath soft against your neck. So, you let yourself stay just a few seconds longer, waiting for him to wake up first.

You stayed in bed until he offered one of his t-shirts to wear and kissed your nose, he only left the bed to make breakfast.

Now you were kneeling on the floor, lowering your head to search under Yoongi’s bed for your dress. You wondered what would be worse: showing up at home in Yoongi’s clothes or wearing last night’s dress.

“What are you looking for?” You heard his voice behind you. You sat up, turning your attention to him. He was still wrapped in his morning look—gray sweatpants, a black tee, and ruffled hair, probably thanks to you. Damn, he looked good.

“My dress.” You explained “Where did you throw it?”

“Oh, I put it in my wardrobe,” He answered casually, extending his hand to help you up from the floor. You took it, trying to keep the shirt you were wearing from hiking up—though it was a losing battle. “Why?”

“I’d better get going,” You said shyly, nodding towards the door.

“Why?” He repeated, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Well, um…” You stammered, searching for an answer, but you didn’t have one.

“You can stay,” he interrupted, his tone firm.

“I don’t know… I have no clothes.” The words felt foolish as soon as they left your mouth.

He scoffed. “You have clothes.” He scanned your body from head to toe, but all you were wearing was an old shirt that still smelled like his perfume and a pair of boxers he’d kindly offered you after tossing your black panties in the wash. You didn’t actually have clothes. “You’re dressed right now.” He stepped closer, his hand reaching for your waist over the fabric of his shirt. You unconsciously stepped towards him, letting him cup your face with one of his hands.“I wish you weren’t, though.”

“Yoongi…” You whined, hypnotized by the way he bit his bottom lip.

“What?” He murmured.

“My mom?…” You mumbled, making him laugh once again.

“Are you serious?” He asked, his knee slowly pushing between your legs—was he trying to make you trip into his bed?

You gripped his shoulders tightly, determined to stay on your feet.

“I bet your mom’s just fine,” He said, his voice laced with mockery. “Unless you want to leave.”

His knee pressed deeper into your thigh, but you fought back, unwilling to let gravity win so easily.

You tried to come up with a clever, sassy response, something that would shut down his attempts to make you blush, but you were too focused on not falling into his bed. You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, lowering his voice and pulling your face closer with his grip.

You pursed your lips, finally losing the battle with gravity as you tumbled into the bed, pulling him down with you. Your eyes locked for a brief moment, the room so still you could hear the pounding of your own heartbeat and the soft sound of his hands running up your thighs, squeezing the skin beneath the fabric of his boxers.

“Or do you want to stay?” He murmured, his breath hot against your ear, though the words seemed to echo in your mind.

You were too proud to say anything, he should’ve known you didn’t like to ask for things, but he was proud as well, he needed you to say it, and maybe this time you wanted to do it.

“I’ll stay...” You whispered, making him smirk.

“Mmm… I won’t argue with that.” He murmured, pressing your nose against yours and kissing you with his mouth open, melting you under his body as his hands did the rest of the work.

And when you finished, tangled with each other, with his nose buried in your neck and his body on top of yours, he breathed out. You sighed, observing the watch on his wrist next to your head, it was only eleven in the morning. And that should be the perfect moment to run away before he kicked you out, but when you tried to move under his body, you found his gaze.

“What?” He smiled, gripping your waist so you stayed there.

“Nothing…” You said “Am not allowed to look at you now?”

“No, you are.” He said “You’re just not allowed to look at me like you’re about to tell me you have to run away- I mean, that you have to leave.”

You rolled your eyes. “C’mon, you’ll get tired of me.”

He braced himself on his arms, lowering his hands into the mattress as he hovered above you, just like he had five minutes ago before you came undone under him. The memory sent a flutter through your stomach, but now, he looked cute—confused by your words.

“You know, if you leave, I’m just going to follow you home, right?” He said, catching you off guard.

“Are you serious?” You scoffed.

“I mean, what are you going to say? You have no clothes, you have to shower, you have to see your mom?”

You laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. “What if I want to see my mom?” You teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“Leave your mom alone, Pinky,” He shot back, grinning. You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “Stay with me today.”

You tilted your head, eyes searching his lips. “And what about tomorrow?”

“Stay with me tomorrow too,” He insisted, his voice soft but firm. “And the day after, as well.”

“You have no idea what you're getting yourself into...” You warned, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” He said, his gaze steady. “Trust me, I do.”

You wondered how long you could stay before you snapped out of the trance, how many kisses you could give, how many secrets you could share, how many times he could lift your shirt up your chest, kiss your stomach, kiss your neck. It was like the secrets of the world were held inside Yoongi’s bedroom, because after that you couldn’t escape his hands for the whole day.

Yoongi’s apartment suddenly became a universe of its own. He played music while you danced through the kitchen. He put on a movie as the snow fell outside, and you snuck onto his bed, napped wrapped in his arms, and woke up just in time for dinner.

For a moment, it felt like everything had fallen into place. Yoongi showed you pictures of the hotel he was planning to book for your getaway to the beach, mentioning that he’d considered booking two rooms but now didn’t think it was necessary. You received a call from Simon, but you simply wished him a happy New Year without telling him anything. You texted your mom, letting her know you were with Yoongi, and she didn’t ask any questions. You texted Minnie, but her response was quite different—she bombarded you with almost twenty texts, begging you to tell her everything.

Yoongi was serious, he wouldn’t let you go that easily. After dinner he trapped you in bed and kissed you till you were out of breath, making you promise that you’ll stay the night again.

“What if I have other plans?” You murmured as you brushed the hair away from his face.

“What other plans would you have?” He teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I don’t know, what if I have to see a boy?” You shot back, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Mmm, what boy?” He asked.

You bit your lip, sensing the opportunity waiting for you to seize it.

“I think you know him, actually,” You said, shifting slightly under him. You seemed to find yourself in that position more often than you realized. “His name’s Namjoon. Does that ring any bells?”

Yoongi blinked, clearly caught off guard, before letting out a soft chuckle. He grinned mischievously, then quickly reached for your sides, tickling you until you squirmed. “You’re asking for it now,” He teased, his breath warm against your neck as he leaned in to nip playfully at the skin there.

You burst out laughing, trying to wiggle away. “Stop! Stop, I’m serious!” you gasped between laughs, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you tried to push him off.

Present

By the time Friday came, you had already decided you were on vacation. After a few calls with Sally and another few calls with your publicist, you had cleared your schedule completely and you were free to do whatever you wanted for the next three months. You supposed you deserved it, or that was what you were trying to convince yourself about as you had breakfast and planned what you were going to do today —which was nothing.

As the days passed, the news, reporters, and everyone else trying to reach you for a statement began to forget about you, it turned out to be that you weren’t the most important person in the world, and saying no to a marriage proposal wasn’t the worst thing you could’ve done. The world kept spinning and everyone moved on to the next scandal, but the ache in your chest didn’t go away that quick.

You tried contacting Ian countless times. At first, all you wanted was to confront him and to ask him to tell you the truth, but by the tenth attempt, you were ready to curse him and his entire family. The fact that he had blocked your number only confirmed what you suspected—he was the one who leaked the pictures.

Making peace with it felt impossible; it was as though you’d been lying beside a stranger, an enemy, for nearly four years. You wondered if he felt the same about you right now—if that was why he did what he did. But you weren’t the most forgiving person to exist, nor was forgetting in your nature. So even if some part of you knew it might be healthier to let go, you clung to the bitterness, feeling it settle deep inside you, a grudge you were ready to carry for as long as it took. Letting go simply wasn’t an option.

Still, you didn’t let the whole scandal ruin your main plan—an early vacation in October. But it seemed your friend Minnie, sitting across from you with a glare that could kill, was more than ready to.

Minnie didn’t keep insisting you on helping her with The Alley, but you knew that she was counting on you. You promised to go with her today, but the fact that you didn’t say a word about it the whole week was beginning to make her think that you changed your mind.

“I’m going with you today.” You said without taking your eyes off your phone. “You don’t need to look at me like that.”

You heard her sigh in relief. “God, I was afraid you would say no.”

“I said I would the other day, didn’t I?” You reminded her, making her roll her eyes.

“Yes, like you are a person who doesn’t change her mind at all.”

You laughed, letting her comment slide.

By the afternoon, you were standing at the door of The Alley, waiting behind Minnie as she tried each one of the fifty keys of the keyring in locks of the large wooden doors. “I never know which key is.” She murmured under her breath, annoyed.

You weren’t of much help, all you could do was observe her as she cursed Sid for not labeling the keys, hiding in your scarf just in case she took it on you as well. Minnie peered through the keyhole, as if she could glimpse the shape of the lock and somehow figure out which key would fit. You took a look around at the park, which was completely desolated, except for the view of two people approaching down the street.

It took you exactly two seconds to figure out who that was, after all, you had memorized every tiny bit of Yoongi’s personality, including the way he walked. There he was, this time dressed casually, with a black hoodie on and a black cap over his head, laughing and chatting with a blonde girl who you didn’t recognize at all.

You turned immediately, pretending you hadn’t just seen him and that girl heading in your direction. Your first instinct was to curse Minnie for not warning you that Yoongi would be here, but, in fairness, she had mentioned he’d be around—and you had assured her it didn’t bother you. Still, you hadn’t expected him to appear the moment you arrived. For the sake of keeping your word, you played dumb, pretending not to have seen him.

“This is pissing me off.” Said your friend, straightening up and wiping the sweat off her forehead. She looked around, catching the glimpse of Yoongi almost as quickly as you did. “Oh, don’t turn around.” She warned you as she waved at him, faking a smile. “You don’t want to know who’s coming.”

“I already know.” You gritted through your teeth.

“How did you know?” she whispered, raising an eyebrow. “Did you feel him coming? How? Do you have some kind of spidey sense I don’t know about? Like… an ex-boyfriend radar or something?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up. No. I saw him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, but you just shrugged, already hearing steps behind you, slowing down as they approached you.

“Hey, guys,” Minnie said with a polite smile, holding up the jangling keyring. “Am I late? I’ve been wrestling with these keys.”

Yoongi’s eyes met yours briefly, a flicker of unease flashing across his face before he shifted his gaze to the blonde girl beside him. Her expression froze for just a moment, her gaze landing on you with a slight look of recognition, but you barely acknowledged it, focusing instead on the uncomfortable pause that followed. “Uh… no, you’re fine,” He murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think we’re just a bit early.”

You murmured a quiet “hi,” watching as Yoongi stepped towards Minnie. “Let me see,” he said in that low voice of his, reaching for the keyring. Minnie handed it over eagerly, clearly too flustered to remember introductions, but you didn’t mind. You had no interest in learning who Yoongi had shown up with—not in the slightest. “I already told you which one it is.”

In what universe Yoongi knew which key opened the doors of The Alley? Apparently, in this one. In a matter of seconds he had found the key and opened without any problem, leaving Minnie thanking him.

“I need to label it before I lose it again.” She said.

The blonde watched them both, her gaze flickering to you for just a moment before returning to Yoongi. She shifted her weight, as if she was waiting for something else to happen while Yoongi and Minnie exchanged words, but you kept quiet. You were quite used to people recognizing you on the street, especially in your hometown where every single person knew your name, that didn’t mean that you enjoyed it.

“Look, it has different slots from the other ones.” He showed her, and Minnie looked carefully as he pointed the key.

“Fine, I’ll try to remember.” She nodded, grabbing the keyring from his hands. “Now enter, time to work.”

Minnie clapped her hands as she stepped inside, disappearing ahead and leaving you, Yoongi, and the blonde girl—someone you'd never seen before—standing there, exchanging glances as if there were something unspoken between you all. The blonde shifted her gaze to you briefly, her expression unreadable yet somehow expectant. You felt a knot tightening in your chest and quickly slipped past them without acknowledging it, catching up to Minnie and putting the awkwardness of the moment behind you.

“You can play some music if you want.” Said Minnie, disappearing through a hall that led to the office.

You hurried towards her, leaving Yoongi and his friend behind without a backward glance.

“Why does Yoongi know how to open the doors, and you don’t?” You whispered, quickening your steps to keep up with Minnie.

“I told you, he’s here all the time,” She replied, barely slowing down as she moved ahead. “He has to fix some lights from the theater today.”

“And... who was that?” You asked, slipping into the office and closing the door behind you a little faster than necessary.

Minnie dropped her bag on the desk with a roll of her eyes. “I don’t know—some girl he’s seeing now,” She replied, shrugging. “She’s just here to keep him company. I doubt she cares much about The Alley, but hey, not my business.”

You nodded, suddenly feeling the faintest stir of something you couldn’t quite name. You pushed it aside—no need to dwell on it.

“How do you know?” You asked, trying to sound casual. “Is he your personal friend now?”

She chuckled, sitting back in her chair. “We’re friendly,” the redhead replied, her tone light as if that wasn’t the biggest betrayal of all.

You let yourself fall into the chair across from her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” She said with a shrug. “I don’t really have a choice.” Then, her gaze met yours. “We don’t talk about you, though. He doesn’t dare say your name.”

“He doesn’t mention me but he talks about the girls he’s seeing?” You asked, crossing your arms above your chest.

“Yes, it’s like he’s seen a ghost everytime someone says your name, it’s funny.” She said “And why are you asking, anyway? Are you jealous?” She teased.

You couldn’t deny that the fact that Yoongi couldn’t stand to hear your name gave you a little bit of satisfaction, but knowing that he also shared the details of his most recent date with who was supposed to be your best friend pissed you off.

“You’re a traitor, Minnie,” You muttered, shaking your head in disbelief.

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “Didn’t you say you had no problem with him being around?” She shot back, using your own words against you. “He’s helping out with everything. I can’t exactly avoid being friendly.”

You huffed, already knowing she was right, but it didn’t stop the sting of betrayal. “Still…” you grumbled, unable to hide the bitterness in your tone. “You’re supposed to be on my side, one hundred percent.”

“I have to choose my battles, honey.” She sighed, paying little attention to your tantrum. “For the sake of this place, at least.”

You exhaled sharply, leaning back in your chair, arms still crossed. “Guess I can’t argue with that,” You muttered, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice, but it still seeped through.

Minnie slipped through some papers on the desk, glancing up to you. “Besides… I can be on your side, which I am, and still be friendly to him. I’m not trying to brainwash you, but he’s a great guy, you know? Overall…”

“I know that.” You said, defeated, “I know that more than anyone.”

Your friend didn’t need to convince you; you knew better than anyone how impossible it was to dislike Yoongi. You knew that he was a great man, a great son, a great neighbor. That he loved his mother, was the best friend of everyone and girls loved him. And yet, it was for all those reasons that you resented him. If only he were just a little less of all those things, a little more selfish, maybe—just maybe—he might have chosen you.

Four years ago

You have never been the kind of girl who wore her heart on her sleeve, but the next morning, tangled in sheets under Yoongi’s body, you were.

That afternoon you inevitably had to say goodbye to him, but not without him putting on a good fight first. His mom was coming back from vacation that night and you refused to be there when she arrived just to find you wearing her son’s clothes as pajamas for the second day in a row, even if Yoongi argued that there was nothing wrong with it since she’d known you all your life. At the end he ended up agreeing with you, deciding that maybe you were right and driving you home.

You walked backwards towards the porch, blowing kisses to Yoongi, who sat in his car, trying to catch each one of them. He waited until you opened the door and winked at you, waving a goodbye before starting the car and disappearing. Closing the door behind you, you felt your heart beating against your ribcage, threatening to escape from your body. You leaned against the door for a moment, feeling the weight of the silence that filled the space around you. Your breath was shallow, your chest tight, as if the air itself was heavier now that he was gone.

You had always been in love with Yoongi; it was a weight you had carried for most of your life. You had grown tired of trying to get rid of it, learning to live with it as if it were a curse. But this time, it felt different, it was like love was supposed to feel like.

You wanted things to sink in and be as far from him as you possibly could, but as soon as you heard the car driving away, a sudden urge to run and look for him took over you.

Still, you lay in bed for the rest of the day, feeling like you were sixteen again, wondering if it was okay to text him first. What should you say? That you had a great time? That you wanted to see him again? You wished he could have just appeared at your doorstep without you having to ask. You wished to hear the sound of a rock against your window, only to find out it was him, calling for you.

Later that night, you did receive a text from Yoongi, though not in the way you had imagined.

Almost all of Yoongi’s memories were of just him and his mom together. The concept of family had always been different for him than it was for everyone else, but he had learned to embrace it. Even so, he often wished things could have been different—that his mother didn’t have to work two jobs, that he didn’t have to spend so much time in other people’s homes, that the concept of a family of two didn’t come with so many complications.

Yoongi had spent most of his childhood with nannies and Simon’s mom, observing how Lila took her of her children and hoping that image could be his instead.

He grew up trying not to cause much trouble, working to help his mom, studying hard, and striving to earn a full scholarship. Between long hours at part-time jobs and nights spent pouring over textbooks, he found himself attending to her when her health took a turn—making meals, running errands, or simply sitting by her side to ensure she was comfortable. The weight of responsibility shaped him early, leaving little room for his own dreams, doing everything he could to lighten her burden while quietly dreaming of a future where neither of them had to struggle.

His mother had become a priority and he never complained, he loved her, but in the meantime he was slowly forgetting about himself without noticing.

That night, Yoongi had created a group chat to inform all his family that his mother had suffered an accident on her way home from vacation. She had fallen, breaking her hip in the process, and now required surgery as soon as possible. The tone of his message was calm, almost detached, as if he were trying to keep the weight of the situation from overwhelming anyone. Still, you could feel the urgency behind his words, the unspoken worry pressing between the lines.

His message said that she was going into surgery in a few hours and that his aunt was with him, but didn’t answer any other message for the rest of the night until the next morning, when he announced that the surgery had gone okay and that Nari was fine, though she didn’t wake up yet.

You felt a whole carving in your chest just by thinking of him, handling the situation alone. You knew that Yoongi always tried to convince everyone he was fine on his own, that he didn’t need anyone’s help, but you couldn’t shake the image of him sitting in a hospital chair, exhausted and worn, holding it together for everyone else while no one held it together for him.

Even if you wanted to visit Nari, to be there for both of them, Yoongi explicitly said that people could only visit her once she was at home, three days later.

That very same morning you began your ten block walk to Yoongi’s home, starting to feel your feet getting frozen inside of your monochrome black Converse, your fingers numbing inside your half finger gloves and a strange feeling in your gut that was slowly creeping up on you.

You tried to tell yourself that it was the bad taste that left you the news of the accident, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of worry, hence the anxious feeling in your stomach. Even if Yoongi had said that everything went alright, you still were worried.

You turned around and looked at the end of the street where your home was, wondering if you should go back and take your car, but you ultimately buried your hands in the pockets of your jacket and decided to carry on your way; ten blocks in the snow never killed anyone.

When you started to approach the old building, flashbacks immediately assaulted your memory in the least subtle of ways, it was like every kiss lingered in your skin, you couldn’t wash them off.

You rang the bell, announced yourself and in less than five minutes you were in front of Yoongi’s door like you were a few days ago.

“Pinky, I-... I didn’t know you were coming.” Was the first thing he said.

Yoongi’s face was a map of exhaustion, his eyelids hung heavy and the skin beneath his eyes shadowed by the weight of sleepless nights.

“Hi to you too,” you mumbled.

“Sorry... Hi. You surprised me,” Yoongi replied, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, not wanting to dwell on it. “I wanted to see Nari. I tried to text you, but-”

“I haven’t been paying attention to my phone,” He interrupted, his gaze dropping for a brief moment, a tired sigh escaping him.

You frowned slightly, unsure if it was the weariness or something else. “Yeah, I’m sure. But I was hoping she’d be here already.”

“We arrived a few hours ago,” He explained, his voice low, as if the weight of the past few hours still clung to him.

Silence stretched between you, the kind that felt heavy, as if neither of you knew quite how to fill it.

“How are you?” You said, taking a step closer to him.

“I’m okay now that she’s home,” Yoongi admitted, his voice low and strained. “But… I was so stressed I thought I was going to pass out.”

Your heart clenched at his words, a pang of helplessness surging through you. You fought the urge to pull him into an embrace, knowing it wouldn’t erase the exhaustion carved into him.

“What exactly happened?” You pressed gently, your tone careful.

Yoongi exhaled, leaning briefly against the doorframe, his gaze distant. “She slipped and landed in the worst possible way. Her hip… it didn’t just crack. It broke clean through, but not in the middle, more on the edge, closer to where it connects to the rest of her leg. They said the pieces weren’t in the right place anymore, and they had to go in and put it back together” He paused, swallowing hard, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. “I wasn’t even with her. It was my aunt who called me, and by the time I got to the hospital, they were already preparing her for surgery.”

“How is she?” You asked softly, glancing at him.

“She’s... recovering,” Yoongi said, running a hand through his hair. “The doctors said the bone broke just outside the joint. They had to put this metal nail inside her thigh bone and screw it into place to hold everything steady so it can heal.”

“A nail?” You repeated, eyes widening.

“Yeah,” He nodded. “It’s supposed to keep the bone stable. They said it’s the best way to fix this kind of break. She’s in a lot of pain, though.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been for her... or for you.” You took a step closer, watching the weariness in his expression.

Yoongi let out a shaky breath. “She’s tough, though. Tougher than me, that’s for sure.”

You kept silent for a second. “Can I see her?” You almost whispered, unsure, but he quickly moved away from the door.

“Yeah, of course.” He said, suddenly remembering you were still outside of his home. “Come in, she’ll be happy to see you. I’ll let her know first.”

You stood in the living room as you watched him disappear through the hall where both of their rooms were, trying to avoid any kind of memory you had from a few nights ago. Why did you have to think of that in moments like these?

After a few seconds, you catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s face from the hall, telling you to follow him. You followed his voice, entering Nari’s room without making much noise.

She was laying in bed with a blanket draped over her legs. She looked up as you entered, her eyes lighting up with a welcoming smile that made her seem so much like Yoongi, and yet, not entirely. She was clearly in pain, but her cheerfulness masked it, her eyes twinkling with the same kindness you remembered.

“Oh sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Nari said warmly, her voice a little strained but genuine. “I didn’t expect you to drop by.”

“How come? I wanted to come check on you.” You smiled, taking a cautious step closer “Simon and my mom, too. They all want to see you.”

“Oh, they don’t have to!” She waved off “I’ll be on my feet in no time, this was nothing.” Her eyes lingered on you for a moment before shifting to Yoongi, who was quietly standing behind you.

You glanced over at him, catching the flicker of something unreadable in his expression before he quickly masked it. You wanted to ask him what was going on, but you didn’t dare in front of his mother. Instead, you focused on her, trying to offer a comforting smile.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Nari,” You said, your voice soft but sincere. “It must’ve been scary.”

“Oh, I’ve had worse.” She shifted her weight slightly, and you could see a flash of discomfort cross her face, but she quickly masked it with another smile. “It’s just a little fracture. Nothing to worry about, really.”

Yoongi shifted, his hands gripping the keys in his pocket, eyes flicking towards his mom before looking back at you. “The doctors said she needs to use a wheelchair for a while.” He interrupted, as if he was trying to remind his mom rather than telling you about it.

Nari gave him a sharp look, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced with a softer, more forced smile. “I’m okay. Really, I’m tougher than I look.” She looked up at you.

You nodded, but something in the way she looked at Yoongi made you pause. There was an underlying tension there, something unspoken. You weren’t sure if it was because of the accident or something else, but it felt like you had stepped into a moment that wasn’t meant for you.

“I’ll be fine,” Nari repeated, as if to reassure both you and Yoongi. “I’m just happy to see you two together. It’s been so long since you visited.”

You smiled, trying to match her enthusiasm. “We should all get together sometime soon, once you’re feeling better.”

You could tell she was trying to downplay everything, to act like it was just another ordinary day. But the quiet discomfort in the room, the way Yoongi stood slightly apart from her, told a different story.

You watched Yoongi shift again, clearly uncomfortable with the way things were, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he cleared his throat. “We should let you rest, Mom.”

Nari smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “Yes, yes. I’ll be fine. You two go on.”

You nodded, feeling the tension in the room like a heavy cloud, but not wanting to draw it out any longer. As you followed Yoongi out, you could still feel in your stomach the feeling you had when you left your house earlier.

Yoongi held the door open for you as you stepped out of the living room, your footsteps soft against the wooden floor. Neither of you said anything as you walked to the elevator at the end of the hall, the silence stretching between you like an invisible thread. Yoongi pressed the call button, and the sound of Yoongi opening the door of the elevator was the only sound that broke the stillness.

Inside, the faint hum of the elevator motor filled the space as you both stood side by side. You stole a glance at him, noticing the way his hands fidgeted slightly in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the floor numbers on the wall.

“You okay?” You asked, looking at his soft face. He glanced up, his eyes sidetracking towards your lips before looking away.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” He simply said.

Yoongi stepped out first, waiting for you to follow before leading the way through the lobby and towards the glass doors at the exit. The cold morning air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, sharp and bracing after the warmth of the building. Yoongi stuffed his hands deeper into his jeans pockets, his breath visible in the frosty air as he exhaled. You tightened your own coat around you, walking alongside him as the wind tugged at your hair.

“Did something happen between the two of you?” You wondered out loud, watching him closing the door behind him, clutching the keys in his hand as he leaned against the stair railing beside you.

“Nothing, she just…keeps picking fights with me. She’s been unbearable since the surgery.” He sighed, frustration heavy in his voice. “She tries to tell everyone it’s nothing but it’s not like that. She didn’t like it when the doctor told her she had to use a wheelchair, she refused.”

You looked up at him. Yoongi had always been taller than you, making you tilt your chin just slightly to meet his gaze. “She needs time to process it. You know how she is—she’s never liked being helped. Just give her space, and she’ll come around. Don’t be too hard on her, okay?”

He let out a sharp breath. “It’s her who’s being hard on me,” He muttered. He shook his head, the frustration evident in his eyes. “Did you see the way she looked at me? The only reason she was being nice was because you were there.”

“I know it’s tough,” You said softly, “but she’s not used to this. Just a few days ago, everything was normal, and now she’s facing this huge change—she has to use a wheelchair for who knows how long. The meds might be messing with her mood too.”

“The meds are driving her crazy,” He affirmed.

“Well, see? It’s not your fault.” You said, reaching your hand to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re doing everything you can, she will come around.”

Yoongi closed his eyes when he felt your fingertips close to his face, there was something about your touch that burned him through his skin, pulling him into a trance.

A silence settled between the two of you, you shared a glance with him, your eyes meeting each other like a secret. It was like you could see everything that happened in his room a few nights ago just by looking him in the eye, like every kiss and every word were still palpable in the air.

On the surface, Yoongi knew he should be worried about other things, that his mother was the most important thing right now, but in the back of his mind there was you, laying on his bed as you begged him for one more kiss, one more touch. Oh, how he wished he could turn back time to be trapped inside his room with you alone again, like you were the only people in the world.

“Pinky, I-”

“Yoongi-”

The words crashed into each other, a quiet storm of unspoken things hanging in the air between you. For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of everything that had been left unsaid that night pressing down on the space between your breaths.

“We…” He tried to say, but he cut himself. “I’m sorry for not calling.”

You shook your head, waving it off “It’s okay, I understand. I just wanted to check on both of you.”

“I wanted to call you,” He said, his voice quieter than usual. “And I wanted to see you… but I couldn’t.”

“It’s alright, Yoongi…” You murmured, but his gaze was fixed on the floor, his eyes avoiding yours like they were afraid of something.

“Pinky, about the trip to the beach-”

You cut him off gently, your voice firm despite the softness. “I’m not thinking about the trip to the beach.” You paused, feeling the weight of your words. “I was worried about your mom, I was worried about you.”

“I know, I know,” he said quickly, his voice tight as he looked away.

“Yoongi, the trip can wait.” You insisted, but something told you that this wasn’t about the trip

He inhaled sharply, his breath shaky, as if the words were caught somewhere between his chest and his throat. His gaze darted to the side, then back to you.

“That’s the thing, Pinky, I don’t think it can.” His voice cracked slightly, a crack in the armor he'd been holding up. Suddenly, you felt your chest tighten, the words weighing heavily in the air. “I just… I don’t know how to deal with all of this. I’ve been doing some thinking in the hospital, and I-” He paused, his breath hitching like he was trying to swallow something painful. “I don’t know how to say this, but maybe… we should leave this right here.”

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach, the sudden shift in his words making it feel like the ground had disappeared beneath you. “I- What do you mean?” you managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Pinky,” He murmured, his voice barely audible now, thick with regret. His eyes flicked away, unable to meet yours. “For everything. I wanted to call you and explain… but I couldn’t. I was afraid you thought I used you and-”

“I never thought that.” You rushed to say, confused. “Why would I?”

Yoongi looked at you, at a loss for words, but he couldn’t stand holding your gaze for more than one second, even if you desperately tried to meet his eyes, as if that could make him make some sense.

“I don’t know, I-” He struggled to say. “I just wanted you to know that I said the truth the other night, you know that? I wasn’t lying but-”

“What are you talking about?” You cut him off, your heart racing as a wave of nausea hit you.

He exhaled sharply, eyes dropping to the floor, still refusing to meet your eyes.. “Pinky… whatever happened these past few weeks… it shouldn’t have happened.” His voice was low, almost regretful. You felt a cold chill creep into your bones. The air between you had shifted, heavy and suffocating.

“Yoongi, why are you saying this?”

You took a step closer to him, but you felt his breath hitching, attempting to run away from you.

“Because I can’t leave to follow you, I can’t run away with you.” He firmly said, breaking your heart into a million pieces. “For the sake of everyone.”

You frowned, your chest tightening. “For the sake of everyone, or for your sake only?” You murmured, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to shield yourself from the cold that wasn’t just coming from the air. It was coming from him, too.

He threw his head back in frustration, closing his eyes, the weight of his decision settling on his shoulders. He wasn’t willing to turn this into a fight, but he clearly underestimated you if he thought you would just stay silent.

“Pinky, don’t make things more difficult.” He begged, but that only made it worse.

You couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that escaped you. “Yeah, but I can’t, can I? That’s always been my job, right?” You said, your voice trembling just enough to betray your anger. “I always have to make things difficult.”

He shook his head, an exasperated sigh escaping him. “C’mon, I didn’t say that. You’re making things up.”

You tried to maintain your composure, but the effort was slipping away. The knot in your throat grew tight, and it felt like your chest was about to crack open. Maybe it was in your nature to make this more difficult, to create a fight, to be resentful, but you couldn’t just stand there, pretending this wasn’t nonsense, that what he said wasn’t completely different from what he said nights ago. You couldn’t pretend this wasn’t hurting.

“Then, what is it?” You asked “It’s not me? It’s you?”

The silence that followed was overwhelming, the weight of his words settling in the space between you like a wall.

“It’s us.” He pronounced, his words hitting the air like thunder, reverberating down the empty street, carving themselves deep into your chest. “We are different, we- I can’t.”

For a moment it felt as though the world had narrowed down to just his voice. You swallowed hard, the burn of tears creeping into the corners of your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “Wasn’t it always like that?” You managed to choke out, your voice trembling, raw with hurt. “Because this isn’t what you told me the other night. What was it? That you wanted me? That you couldn’t stop dreaming of me? That I was the solution to all your problems?” The words slipped out before you could stop them. “Am I just supposed to walk away and accept it was all bullshit?”

You felt your cheeks burning red and your hands trembling as you closed them into fists. Your heart pounded so loudly in your ears you could barely hear your own words anymore. Handling your emotions the correct way wasn’t one of your qualities, because you hadn’t even realized you were raising your voice until Yoongi took a step forward, the heat of his presence forcing your breath to catch in your throat. You faltered, trying to steady yourself, but it was impossible.

“I told you I wasn’t lying to you.” He reminded you, his voice filled with emotions. “It wasn’t bullshit, I meant what I said, you are a dream of a girl, Pinky. But you… you drive me crazy.” He sighed, as if the words were tearing him apart. “Even when everything that was happening with my mom, I still couldn’t stop thinking about you, do you know how fucked up that sounds? I can’t let you do that to me.”

“What?” You spat. “Would that be so bad?”

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shutting briefly, as if to block out the entire world. “Please, you know this.” His voice was strained now, almost pleading. “We can’t ignore it forever, I have to stop it now. You could never stay in one place, and even if I wanted to run away with you, I can’t. I have to stay here.”

“I was not going to run away. Not with you here.”

“And next year?” he asked, his tone sharp with frustration. “What happens next year? Or in five years? When you realize this isn’t what you wanted and you pack your bags again?—because I know you, do you think I don’t? You can’t stay, you never do. And I can’t leave.”

It was as if every cruel word the world had ever aimed at you, every harsh truth or bitter lie, was now coming from the lips of the one person who had always been on your side. You could understand that Yoongi was sad, tired and angry, but this was crossing the line.

You tried to fight the tears, but they fell anyway, unable to defend yourself. What could you say? That it wasn’t true? Betraying your dignity and trying to convince him that staying with you was worth the shot? That it wasn’t as crazy as he made it sound? No. You had spent your life waiting for people to like you, but today you were stopping it. You stood there, not willing to wipe your tears and pointed to his chest, angry.

“God, you’re a fucking coward.” Your breath trembled, uneven, trying to hold it together.

“Pinky, please,” He breathed out, his voice low and desperate as he reached for your face.

“Don’t call me that.” You took a step back, shaking your head, your chest tightening. “I know you, too, you know? And I know this isn’t about me this time, this time it’s about you being afraid like you’ve always been.”

“Stop, please,” he begged again, his voice cracking under the weight of his plea. But you couldn’t stop; anger burned through you, mixing with the ache in your chest, with the tears threatening to spill. You were angry, you were upset, you were fucking sad.

“Why?” you snapped, your voice sharp and trembling. “Is this not what you expected me to say? Or did you want me to admit that you’re right, like you always are—that I’m unpredictable, and a mess, and that I just don’t fit into your life like a normal girl would?”

“Y/n, I didn’t say any of that.” He replied softly, his eyes wide and pained, his shoulders sinking under the weight of your words.

The sound of your name ringed in your ears, but you ignored it. He didn’t say that but that was exactly what he meant, he couldn’t deny that.

“You know, I don’t even care about the road trip,” You said, your voice trembling with restrained frustration as you stepped down one step, still facing him. “There would have been plenty of chances for that, fine. Whatever.” You paused, gripping the railing, your breath unsteady. “And your mom? Of course she needs your help now, I wasn’t gonna complain, how could I? And next year? Sure, she’ll probably still need you. But in five years?” You looked straight at him, your eyes sharp, filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. “In five years, your mom’s going to hate that the only thing you ever did with your life was take care of her.”

Your voice cracked then, but you didn’t stop. “And me? Even if I’d love to do it, I won’t be here to tell you I told you so.”

Yoongi’s face was a mix of disbelief and hurt, the corners of his mouth tightening as if trying to hold back a response that wasn’t coming. You turned around, not sparing him another glance as you almost ran towards your home, ignoring your name being called over and over again from the voice of the man who just broke your heart.

Yoongi was painfully always there in your life. He was always the voice of reason, the calm one, the designated driver ever since he was sixteen, the smart one, the boy every mother wanted as their son. Yoongi was the boy who helped you with your math homework when you were eleven, he was the boy who defended you when your brother made fun of you, the boy who gave you his joystick so you would stop crying when you found out your brother was making you play with the one that didn’t work. Yoongi was always mature, always wiser, always older. And you were always immature, always stubborn, always younger. Just a brat who couldn’t stand the fact that he was the only one you wanted, but the only one you couldn’t have. When you turned the corner at the end of the street, determined not to look back, you decided that maybe now was time for you to accept it and finally move on.

taglist: taglist: @kingofbodyrolls, @overtherainbow35, @namin13, @p34rluv, @moonchild1, @yoongisoftface , @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts , @yoongisducky , @bangtansmauyeondan , @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater @ot7stansthings @curiouslioncutie @jalexad

183 notes · View notes

stxneflxwers · 25 days ago

Note

I saw your post and came running 👀 I've been thinking about this since the end of December bc I really did not get into the holiday spirit until after it was over lmao BUT for any characters you want to write for: what are they like during the holidays? What traditions do they like to do? What gifts do they give you?

(Extra ideas you can take or leave if it helps your inspiration at all — How does Aventurine feel when you tell him you don't need any of those expensive gifts, just time with him? How does Sunday react when you sit him down to tell him he's stressing himself out too hard trying to find a perfect gift for you and that all you want is for him to be happy? How does Dan Heng respond when you tell him that the only gift you want for the holidays is him?)

^ I've just been rotating the hsr boys in my head all day at work lol so I have a lot of Thoughts™

gift of love.

summary. the greatest gift of all is his love.

a/n. tysm for the request!!! i decided to settle with gift-giving ideas you offered, since it sounded interesting and cute!! im just gonna stick with aven and sunday for this tho... i wanna test how sunday writes for me.

characters. aventurine. sunday.

cw. first time writing for sunday (this is more of a test with how much i enjoy writing him, sry for any OOC-ness). gift-giving. all lowercase. established relationship(s). PLS NOTE THAT I HAVEN'T DONE THE NEW TRAILBLAZE MISSION STILL CUZ I'M A LAZY MFER...SORRY.

aventurine.

tries to be soooo sneaky about figuring out what you like as gifts. he wants all of his gifts to be a surprise, after all! it doesn't work. you see right through his game plan. he's a smidgen disappointed (with himself), and might be a bit surprised depending on the kind of person you are.

he still ends up showering you in expensive gifts of things you enjoy. he tries to find the most expensive edition of any of those things even though he, of all people, should know that expensive ≠ well-made. you have to tell him to chill out.

he immediately believes you're angry with him (why wouldn't you be?). but you're not, and you can see the panic flash in his eyes for the tiniest of moments. you sigh softly with a wary smile. you briefly give him some space before talking to him about it.

you tell him that all the most expensive gifts in the world are nothing in comparison to quality time together. you remain patient with an open-mind and a listening ear – you know he needs a wealth of both. you make sure to tell him you miss him.

his mouth hangs open in silence when you tell him that, for once he's at a loss for words. his mouth closes and he smiles. he takes you into a soft hug and whispers, "i miss you too."

he makes an evident effort to be around you more often when he does have the time. you know, instead of wasting half of it out in the casino.

and it makes all the difference.

sunday.

the most perfectionist to ever perfectionist. stop him before he literally keels over from stress.

thankfully, you notice how weary he's been. and you ask him what's wrong. because at this point – everyone knows, everyone notices how he's been stuck in his head (more than usual). he frets over little things, as usual. but now he seems almost snippy. birdie is cranky.

when he eventually gives in and confesses that he cannot find the "right" gift for you, you're smiling and shaking your head. you give him a very long moment of silence, testing him – seeing if he catches on what you'll say next.

he doesn't catch on "quick enough", much to his dismay. perhaps he hasn't adjusted to your praises and reassurances...yet.

you tell him that the greatest gift of all would be for him to be happy. to be relaxed. to be in the moment. you throw in a little whisper, "maybe by my side, too."

he's silent – his mind running amok with what to say next. he settles for an awkward yet genuinely affectionate, "thank you..."

and then he asks for your forgiveness once he collects himself. you laugh softly and forgive him, you've gotten used to him asking for your forgiveness rather often. only yours, though.

at some point, you're going to need to tell him that forgiving himself is far more important.

#🌠— my works #🌠— fluff #aventurine x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #💕— aventurine #💕— sunday

129 notes · View notes

lyrakanefanaticwriting · 4 months ago

Note

can you please write a fanfic of lyra meeting acacia/grayson meeting her parents🫶

ofc!! i kind of wanted to do a little twist with this and instead have it be graysons brothers meeting lyra’s family bc i feel like i’ve been writing about acacia gigi and sav+ grayson and lyra a lot lately and wanted to switch it up a bit 😭😭 thanks so much for the request tho!!

also, on a side note, in the deleted scenes of tgg, lyra mentions having MULTIPLE brothers, so in this fic she’s going to have two little brothers, one being 9, and one being 4 going on 5, aka the one mentioned in the actual book. the 4 year olds name is gabriel, and the 5 year olds name is lucas. yes ik they’re basic but i thought of them quickly so don’t judge me pls 😢

synopsis: it’s meeting the family time, and lyra’s family + graysons brothers get together for a dinner. lyra’s family seems to be getting along well with the 4, except for just one person… lyra’s dad. 😬😬

Meeting the Family - lyra x grayson

———————————————————

LYRA:

I paced outside my parents’ bedroom as I waited for them to get ready. In 5 minutes, they were supposed to go to Hawthorne House to have their first official family dinner. In 5 minutes, my parents were going to officially meet Grayson. My insides were in a twisted knot, and I thought I might explode right then and there if I hadn’t felt a tug on my skirt. Looking down, I felt more relaxed once mygaze met the brown eyed boy’s.

“Catty,” Gabriel, my 4-soon-to-be-5 year old brother, had decided at 2 that instead of calling me Lyra, Catty, short for Catalina, was a much better nickname.

“Catty.” He repeated with a furrow of his brow once his first call had been ignored.

“Sorry, what is it Gabe?” I asked him, patting his gelled hair that had taken forever to do as he didn’t stop complaining once.

“Can we play legos? Mommy and Dad aren’t ready yet, and-“

“Mommy and Dad are right here, baby. We can go now.” My mother’s voice cuts in, a bright smile on her face. Both my mom and dad had done a good job of dressing up, and I felt a bit relieved although I knew Grayson and his brothers would never judge my parents on how they dressed either way. Strolling out of the bedroom that he and his brother shared, Lucas, my other little brother, was wearing the fanciest-but-not-too-fancy outfit a 9 year old could wear, with a pair of black sunglasses perched on his nose. He was wearing a little watch, and honestly, despite the put together look, he had never looked more adorable.

“You’re looking fancy, Lucas.” I said, a grin tingeing my voice. Lucas nodded, before grinning himself.

“Can we go now? Grayson is rich and I want to see his house.” Lucas said, immediately cutting to the point. My mom snorted as she took Lucas and Gabriel’s hand and led them to the car, mean while my Dad just bristled, mumbling “our house is nice too” as he followed them.

—————————————

As soon as our car pulled up to the front gates, I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping. I had seen it before, but damn, this house was huge. Even Lucas was shocked, whispering about how cool it was under his breath. One of the bodyguards escorted us inside, and as soon as the actual gates opened and they were in, I was met with Graysons patient smile. He was holding a bouquet of lilies, and the sight of him shaking my father’s hand as he greeted him made my heart flutter. He had opted for a suit, as usual, but it was more casual, almost as if he was finding ways to tell me that I could breathe, and that this entire get together wasn’t so fancy as I had imagined. As soon as Grayson had finished shaking hands with my parents and making introductions with my brothers, his eyes met mine, and I stepped forward, taking the bouquet out of his hands before he could properly give them to me.

“I’d prefer lilacs.” I deadpanned, tugging at the beautiful flowers with fake boredom. My mother snorted, but Grayson’s smile only grew as he took my hand in his and spoke.

“I’ll note that down. Welcome to Hawthorne House, Mr. and Mrs. Kane. Dinner will be officially ready in 30 minutes, but in that time…” He turned around and met my eyes, sending sparks of electricity through me. “How many of you guys would like a tour?”

I had seen Hawthorne House before. But due to the amount of “awesome”’s whispered by my brothers and the hushed remarks by my parents, they clearly hadn’t. It felt good knowing that at least my Dad, who had always been strict with dating, didn’t and couldn’t have anything bad to say about this house. Because good god it was nice. Finally Grayson takes my hand and leads us back to the dining room.

“Dinners completely finished now. My brothers are all in the dining room too, and they can’t wait to meet you guys.” Graysons states in a civilized manner. I could tell he was trying to impress my parents, but honestly, he didn’t have to try too hard. His money was doing all the work for him.

“I can’t wait to meet them.” My Dad replied. But knowing him, I could tell that there was something else in his tone. Something almost off. I turned to give him a look, but Grayson spoke and changed my train of thought.

“Then let me introduce them to you.”

I had obviously met Xander, Jameson, and Nash before in the game, and also afterwards, but my parents hadn’t yet.

“Hello boys.” My mother said, her tone polite. “It’s so nice to meet you three.” They all smiled at her, but Xander was the first to speak.

“Hello to you too! If you were to get a gift, not now, but at any given time, how would jewelry sound?” He replied. Jameson, and Nash both groaned, while muttering, “real discreet”, and, “seriously xander? those gifts were supposed to be a surprise.” My Mom had a surprised expression on her face as she realized they’d gotten us gifts, but I just turned my glare to Grayson. I said no gifts, I very clearly communicated with my eyes. He, however, wouldn’t meet my gaze and instead held eye contact with my mother. Very slick, I thought with a snort. My Mom was about to say something about how they didn’t have to do that or whatever other motherly card she always pulled, when my brother spoke up.

“Gifts are nice.” Lucas interrupted, as if trying to change the topic. “Anyway, Grayson, You said your brother has a lab. Can we check it out?” Gabriel, who was much more shy than his brother, nodded, clinging to me as he ducked his head right back as soon as everybody looked at him. I rolled my eyes at Lucas’ statement, well aware of where this conversation was going to go.

“Please tell me you didn’t bring your book of nightmares.” My Mom groaned, tutting at Lucas. I smirked as Grayson met my eyes with confusion.

“His science book,” I explained. “It is a huge book filled with tons of different science experiments, but the problem is, a lot of them require laboratory ovens.” I turned to Lucas, giving him a look. “Lucas is prone to thinking that our very not-meant-for-science microwaves count as a laboratory oven. He is also prone to lighting things on fire.” Lucas made a face, but Xander just grinned.

“Lighting things on fire is apart of science. And to answer your question, Lucas, yes I do have a lab, and yes, you are able to check it out after dinner.” Xander said, excitedly. Clearly though, he was not as excited as Lucas, as Lucas was wearing the biggest grin on his face. He turned to me suddenly, a question on his face, and I nodded, to which he immediately whirled around and faced Xander again.

“Thank you!” Lucas said, grinning. Nash smiled as he glanced between the boys, before speaking himself.

“You two are two sides of the same coin, you know. Lucas reminds me so much of when Xan was little.” He spoke, his eyes soft as he glanced between the boys. Grayson smiled then too, taking my hand and gentle pressing his thumb onto my wrist once his gaze meets mine. I already knew what he was trying to tell me by the expression on his face. Don’t worry, he seemed to be saying, everything is fine. I smiled back at him and he took that chance to change the conversation.

“Now,” He said, cutting into the conversation, “Shall we eat?”

The dinner was nearing its end, as most of the plates on the table were close to being finished. Everybody had been making conversation throughout the dinner, everybody except for my oddly quiet father, with my mother telling embarrassing stories about me growing up, and Gray’s brothers telling embarrassing stories about him. I giggled mischievously at Grayson once Jameson finished telling a story about how Grayson once skipped out on a “911”, a brotherly pact between the 4 that meant when somebody texted or said the numbers 911, then that meant the other brothers had to come, and had to stand in his underwear out in the cold on the side of a road. I could tell by the teasing looks that the other brothers were sending Grayson and the terrifying looks that Grayson was sending them that there was more to the story, though, and made a mental note to bug him about it whenever I got the chance. We were just finishing up eating when a woman that had been introduced to me as “Mrs. Laughlin” walked in.

“I hope you all enjoyed the dinner.” She said, with the slightest smile. We all nodded and gave praises to her delicious food, and that made her slight smile grow the smallest bit.

“Good to know. Now, Lyra and your family members, my husband is just in the other room having a drink. Would you like to meet him before dessert?” She asked us. I looked around at my Mom and Dad, before answering myself.

“We’d love to.” I said with a polite smile. My mother agreed and got up, grabbing my brother’s hands as soon as they got out of their seats too, before my father spoke.

“I will in just a moment, I just need to finish up my food.” He said in a kind tone, smiling at Mrs. Laughlin. Mrs. Laughlin gave the slightest nod in response before beckoning towards us to follow her. I slowed in suspicion, though, before casting my father the barest glance. He met my eyes, and I raised a brow at him, as if asking him what he was up to. He just smiled at me and turned his attention to his food, his eyes hard as he took another bite. My eyes met Grayson’s next, giving me a smile and dipping his head the slightest bit, his movements meant to ease my nerves. I blew out a breath before casting my father one last look, turning around, and following my family out of the dining room.

GRAYSON:

I knew what was going to happen throughout the entire dinner, and why Lyra’s father was awfully quiet. Keith Kane waited a moment or two as he stared at Lyra, Mrs. Laughlin, and the rest of them walk away to the sitting room, before turning to me, his steel blue eyes hard.

“How old are you?” He asked me. I could feel my brothers sending glances my way as they realized what was going on, but I didn’t meet their eyes once. I could handle this.

“23, sir.” I answered.

“And how old is my daughter?” I could tell by his tone that he already knew, but I held his gaze anyway and answered.

“20.”

“How many years are between you two, pray tell?”

“3, but we met when I was 22 and she was 19.”

“Are you a pervert?” Jameson snorted, but his expression quickly changed from the look that Lyra’s dad was giving him, and he morphed his expression into a neutral one. I side-eyed him, before meeting Keith’s gaze and speaking again.

“No, sir.” I answered. He held my gaze with a dangerous expression, before folding his hands together on the table, looking at them as he spoke.

“My daughter has never been much for boys. She has believed, for much of her life, that relationships were useless, as well as most boys.” His gaze met mine, slowly and methodically. “The fact that she’s with you tells me that, for whatever reason, she believes that you’re not useless.” For whatever reason. I tried my very best not to smile. Apparently, Lyra wasn’t the only person in the Kane family who didn’t pull their punches.

“Lyra, in the past, has tended to make the same useless boys cry in group projects. She knows her worth and will not stand for anything less than. She also likes you,” Keith Kane said, his eyes boring into mine. “A lot.” I swallowed. The way I felt for Lyra wasn’t as simple as simply liking someone. I loved her.

“I’m not going to demand that you stay away from my daughter or do a whole “touch her and I’ll kill you” bit because A, this isn’t the 1950’s where women can just be somebody’s property, and B, she’s gotten to the age where she doesn’t need my protection anymore. I am, however, going to ask you one final question,” He said, his dangerous stare from before turning sincere as his brows furrowed. “Do you love my daughter?” In my head, and in my heart, I knew the answer to that. More than anything. But I knew that a man like Lyra’s father would need more convincing, so that’s exactly what I did. I convinced him.

“A few years ago I was in a very bad place.” I admitted suddenly, making Keith’s brows furrow more. I could feel my brother’s surprised eyes turn to mine, but I wouldn’t meet their gazes. I would do anything for Lyra, and if getting her dad to trust me was one of those things, then I would sure as hell do it. “My grandfather, the only parental figure I ever really had, died, just after a girl that I had previously loved died as well. I was emotionally unavailable, and cruel, and a damn train wreck, and even though months later I had brushes with love, I still screwed it up because I was cold and hung up over a dead girl. By the time I was 20, I was convinced that there was nobody in this world who could love me, because I was convinced that I was unloveable. I was convinced that every painful moment, and every death of a loved one took that part of me away, until there was nothing left of me to love.” I paused when Keith’s hand brushed mine, remorse in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, son.” He said, sincere despite his words from before. I felt something unwind in my chest from Lyra’s father calling me “son”, but I brushed it off and continued talking.

“Me and Lyra met when I was 22. I had stopped feeling sorry for myself every moment of every waking day, and decided that maybe, I could actually do something for myself. Feel even when I didn’t want to. Cry even though tears were always a crime in my childhood. I could see a reflection of myself in Lyra, a piece of my soul in hers, and that’s when I knew that love didn’t have to be impossible for me.” I barely smiled, the ends of my lips ticking up by a hair. “I wanted to change for Lyra. Not just because I wanted her to love me even half as much as I loved her, but also because I didn’t want to hurt Lyra all because I was emotionally unavailable. And it became easier, too. Every time she opened up for me I knew that I wanted to open up for her too, to change the habits that I had been force-fed as a child and the way I loved as well. I was so scared that I was going to screw everything up again, because I was so in love with her that I couldn’t bear the idea of losing her, because I knew, if I lost a girl like Lyra, I would be living the rest of my life in a state of constant mourning. You don’t move on from a girl like that. You just can’t.” I was laughing now, shaking my head.

“So, in short,” Jameson said, cutting into the heart-to-heart, “Grayson took one look at Lyra and decided he wanted to change the trajectory of the rest of his life.” Nash and Xander nodded along, muttering “yeah”’s and, “that basically summed it all up”’s. Keith Kane snorted before turning his attention to me again.

“So,” He said, his eyes twinkling. “What you’re trying to say is you love her?” I did a half shrug.

“More than anything.” I replied, the answer I had meant to give him all along. Lyra’s father held my gaze, before nodding, and getting up.

“You’re a good man, Grayson. You deserve to love, and you should feel honoured knowing that you are very loved by a girl like my daughter.” He finally said, shaking my hand across the table as I stood up too. I truly smiled then, my heart full.

“I’m very aware.” I say softly. He nods again, before turning to my brothers.

“If you try involving my daughter in your hullabaloo bullshit that you were telling me about in your stories, you very likely might wake up without all 10 of your fingers.” He said calmly. Nash, Jameson, and Xander’s eyebrows shot up, and I could see that they were trying ridiculously hard not to laugh. “No standing in underwear on the side of the road. No glitter bombing her room. And,” He turned his gaze to Xander. “Absolutely no involving her in those projects of yours where you tend to lose an eyebrow or two.” Xander just beamed, not bothered by the threat.

“So you were listening!” He said, with a grin. He shrugged.

“It got too hard to tune out your ridiculous stories.” He replied. I snorted, and was about to speak before Mrs. Laughlin walked in.

“Introductions have been made.” She said matter-of-factly as she ignored the past tension of the room. “Now,” She smiled warmly at Lyra’s family walking in as well as me and my brothers, and in my head, I could picture a life where our two families could be joined together as one. “Who wants dessert?”

——————————————————————————

while making this i saw a post saying that they wanted to see lyra’s dad call grayson “son”, and somebody sent me an ask saying they wanted a fic about lyra’s dad being overprotective so this is just me killing two birds with one stone LMFAO 😭 (tobias hawthorne who?)

#lyra x grayson fic #lyra x grayson #grayson hawthorne #lyra catalina kane #lyra kane #keith kane #the grandest game #lyrason #fanfic #nash hawthorne #the inheritance games #avery kylie grambs #jameson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #xander hawthorne #maxine liu #libby grambs #Mrs. laughlin

60 notes · View notes

lillyspeakz · 5 months ago

Note

riding superstar!bur after a concert as a good job?

So- I made him whiny and subby bc sometimes he deserves to be out in his place yeah? Enjoy!

warnings: softdom!reader, whiny!wilbur, so much praise, kissing. Lowkey fluffy smut, breeding

“Did so good up there, fuck- wanted to get my hands on you the second I saw you on that stage..” you praised the man beneath you, moans and gasps leaving you mouth.

Wil and the boys had another gig today, the tour moving along pretty fast, yet no one was complaining. Wil had been stressed all day, writing music to finish the new album, making sure nothings happened online and just calming his nerves for tonight. It was a bigger venue, which wouldn’t scare Wil, yet he was always nervous before a big show. What if he messed up? Sang the wrong word? Played the wrong chord? Everything ran through his head. But he had you there. Sweet and delicate you who’d calm his nerves with just a look.

You had given him a small pep talk and a kiss before he left to be up on stage, leaving you to slowly follow after them to watch from the wings. And like always, once Wil was getting lyrics shouted back at him and praises from the crowd as he played, he fell back into a comfortable state, remembering why he did this.

While you watched him and his little things he did on stage, you quickly realized how your mouth was slightly agape and your thighs rubbing against each other. He looked so good up there, the room making him glisten with sweat and the praise form the crowd making him more cocky than ever. You knew you had to get your hands on him, you just had to be patient.

And here you are now, in a small dressing room away from the others, riding the man underneath you like you’d die tomorrow if you didn’t. His little whines and groans encouraging you to speed up and drop down on him harder than before.

“Such a good boy, so pretty. Making me feel so fucking good-“ your sentence was cut short as Wil thrusted up into you, hitting that sweet spot of yours, making your head reel in pleasure.

You rested your head in the crook of his neck as his hands that were once holding your thighs, moved to your waist and held your hips down as he continued to fuck up into you. Sounds of skin slapping against skin and needy whines and moans filled the air as you both were getting closer to finishing.

You started to ride Wil once again, meeting his thrust half way as you chased after your high, resting your forehead against his.

“Oh shit- m’gonna cum, please pl-“ Wilbur cut himself off as his mouth opened in the shape of an ‘o’ , eyes rolled back as he slammed your hips back down onto his while his hips stuttered and tried to reach even deeper inside you.

“That’s it, cum for me baby, been so good…. fuck-“ You whined out as your thighs trembled, coming on his cock, squeezing around him as he let out whimpers at the overstimulation.

You took a moment to catch your breath, caressing Wil’s cheekbone, as he rested his head on your chest., holding you close to him. “Did so good baby, I’m so proud of you. My good boy.” You whispered to him as he nuzzled deeper into your chest, whining as you started to lift up off his lap, hands pushing you back down.

“Stay. Please, just for a little longer.” He whispered out as you continued to play with his locks, cooing at his request and kissing his cheek.

“Of course love, but only a little bit. We can’t stay in here forever darling.” You said as you gently settled him back against the couch and cuddled into him, whispering little nothing to him as he fell deeper into your touch and warmth.

#sike? kinda?#lilly answerz.#charli.#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot smut #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot support #wilbur support squad #wss #x reader #yayayaya

66 notes · View notes

cum-a-calla · 6 months ago

Note

Omg I am waiting patiently for those roman roy brainworms,,, pls take ur time!! 💝💝💝 are there things youre not willing to write if ever 👉👉 bc im soo into the idea of him getting pegged and im too shy to ask for that from any writers 😭

the only things i won’t write are kids, animals, or shit. i’m open to writing virtually all manner of weird or gross or taboo, just not the aforementioned no-nos. i’ve actually been trying to physically restrain myself from doing a stalking/killing/cannibalism thing with Kappa but i know people get touchy about that, so we’ll see. a little peg action, though? hell yeah anon.

let’s fuck this twink. (inside: strapfucking, anal sex, hands-free cumming, mommy kink, Roman is a soft little overstimulated baby boy, some tortured vulnerable Romey, lil bit of aftercare)

“Just so you know, this doesn’t… like… make me gay.”

“Yeah, Roman. I’d have to be a man for that to be true. I think you’re safe.”

Roman lay on his back, pretty as a painting. He's so smooth and pale. His body hair is sparse, barely existent but for the shadow of stubble on his face. He looks nervous. The difference between the uncertainty in his eyebrows and the way he gnaws on his thumb versus the aching curve of his cock is staggering. The nerves do something to him. The discomfort. He wants the reassurance - he craves it, searching your eyes for it, silently begging.

There's barely a breath between him giving you that hungry, kicked-dog look, the one that wants it, craves it, but is so deeply afraid of what could happen. But he does it. He's slow and hangs his head, and without seeing his face you know for a fact he's squeezing his eyes shut, cheeks pink, pulse pounding from his leaking dick to the tip of his beautiful nose. Oh, yes - you'll break Roman. You'll give him exactly what he wants, what he needs. His body is so beautiful. His utter vulnerability means a lot to both of you - you can't wait too long, lest you risk losing everything.

There's a bottle of lube for this purpose; the prospect of preparing him is delicious. Pushing your slippery finger gently inside of him, so slowly, and it's a long process - lube, finger, more lube, more fingers. Slowly working him open, slicking him up. How smooth he is. How tight and hot he is inside of his body, how secret, how embarrassed he is even though he whines and pushes back. The snug muscles inside of his body clench, relax, ripple like silk against your patient ministrations, and the sight of Roman pushing his own face down into the mattress and white-knuckling the sheets has you ravenous. You’re desperate to be inside of him in a more meaningful way. You want to split this man in half, fuck him into teary-eyed, humiliated oblivion, beyond his clever little quips and digs, beyond the way he ices up without a second's notice.

"Ohhh fuuuuck...." He's so whiny, so desperate. You could eat him alive. "Mmmmhhpleeaaase..."

"Please what?" Pushing a third finger so gingerly inside of him, relishing the way he gasps and shudders, the pathetic, sweet little sound coming from his throat. His shoulderblades wing up, and you count the knobs of his spine, the curve of his body laid out before you. His shaking thighs, his cock twitching and leaking openly under his belly. "Say it for me."

"Please... fuck me...?" Soft. High-strung, so fucking scared.

"Good boy.”

The strap harness itself is comfortable, fitted with pockets for little bullet vibrators. You take a moment to turn them on and re-adjust yourself, caught off guard by how turned on you are already. You push the tip against him, allowing him to know you’re there. Gentle little circles, slow nudging.

You have to catch your own breath as you fist even more lube onto your pretty, pink cock, this particular strap shaped perfectly for him to take. Not too big, not too little. None of that candy-colored bullshit, he’d requested brusquely. He couldn’t meet your eyes then, either, couldn’t even pick out or buy his own toy. He left that particular task in your capable hands, trusting you the entire way. Something realistic. Nothing cartoonish.

“God, Roman… look at you,” you breathe. “Look at how good you are for me. Are you ready to take it? Go ahead and… relax for me… that’s it, good boy, good boy.”

“Oh fuck… Jesus Chrissst.”

He starts to accept you, and you sink so slowly into him. It’s easy to treat Roman with tenderness. His breaths are sharp, gasping and moaning and trying to keep still and be good. It’s the most gorgeous thing you could imagine when he turns his face and you can see him, expression screwed up in an intoxicating mix of pleasure and fear, glossy-eyed and flushed. Finding the rhythm is fun - you pay close attention to the spots to brush over, to how deep he likes it. You watch him clench around you, body pulling you further in. You reach under his body, between his thighs where he’s dripping down on the sheets below.

“Oh, wow - you like this, don’t you?”

“Yes, I - ohmygod, yes.”

He whines when you stroke at him, lazily, wanting to draw this out as long as you can knowing that neither of you are going to be able to hold it long. Despite the strap only being an extension of you, you can almost imagine how molten-hot he is inside, how tight and blissful it feels. Your cunt contracts down on nothing, desperate for release. You lick your lips and lean down, swiping your fingers slowly over the slippery head of his cock and kissing him along his spine.

“Oh!” Roman is near-hyperventilating as you rock into him this way. “R-right there, right - don’t fucking stop - don’t stop doing that.”

His cock is throbbing against your fingers. You reach a little further down, gently holding his balls. So, so gently, circling your fingers around the base of them and giving them the kindest little tug. It has him sobbing out the most beautiful sounds, full of ache.

“You gunna cum for Mommy, Rome? Does it feel good to get fucked by Mommy? Yeah?”

He tenses up and he’s so absolutely hard it has to be painful, balancing precariously on that brink. Just the sounds he makes pushes you over your own, and it’s too close - your body reaches the right point, bright as exploding stars, eyes squeezed together as you hold your breath. You can’t take this from him, he needs the pace, the slowness, needs your words to sink deep into his brain so he can savor them.

“Yes, Mommy,” he whines. You can’t hold it any longer, and neither can he - he bucks himself back on the strap and you’re riding him, riding through both of your explosive climaxes at once. It’s dizzying. He ruts into the open air and on some level, you know it would likely feel better to stroke him, to help him along that pleasure… but isn’t it better this way? Seeing him shoot his load desperately into the sheets just from being fucked in the ass? Cumming while proverbially balls-deep inside of him, the master of both your orgasms at once? He babbles and drools a dark spot where his face is still pressed into the sheets, hair mussed and sweaty, cheeks feverish. Mommy, thank you, thank you so much Mommy.

You tap his ass cheek, murmur to him, and make sure he’s ready before slowly pulling out of him. He collapses to the side like a tired cat, lying in his own cum. It takes only a moment to disengage the toy, to pull the strap off and set things in the sink for a washing. Roman needs a washing, too - you go over to the palatial tub, lined meticulously with Roman’s favorite soaps. All of them are top-notch, brands that are expensive and high-end enough to be beyond your knowledge but for what you see during your time with him. Little windows into his life. His favorite scent of body wash, his favorite colognes. His skincare routine. You draw a bath - the hot water starts releasing steam; Roman can’t enjoy a bath or shower without scalding his flesh off his own bones.

He’s dozing off when you re-enter the room, pulling some clothes on while he remains nude. Nudging him earns you an irritated grunt. Another nudge finally rouses him, bleary-eyed and wiping at his mouth as he sits up. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “M’covered in my own fuckin’ jizz. Gross.”

“That was really fun,” you tease, poking his thigh. He slaps your hand away and rubs his temples.

“Is that the tub?” Upon your positive response, he hums. “Wow… you really are my mommy tonight, aren’t you. Fuck me, bathe me - you gunna cook me dinner, too? Tuck me in for bed?”

“If that’s what you want.” You keep your tone mild, smiling at him as he finally meets your eye. He seems wary, quiet for a long moment as the water runs in the background. He’s back to that vulnerable, scared place, and all you want to do is kiss the furrow between his eyebrows and hold him. He’d never allow that.

“Fuck cooking, we’re not peasants. We’ll get… fuckin… I dunno, we’ll order out. And if you, uh… need a place to crash, I guess that’s okay, too. Whatever.”

“Well, uh, you gunna stand there and watch me like a pervert, or what? Go, like, fuck off. Relax. Have a drink or five. Pat yourself on the back for fucking the world’s most eligible bachelor in the ass, and, like... don’t call any tabloids while I’m in here or I’ll sue, et cetera, ad finitum.”

The need. You nod and rise to your feet with him, rubbing his shoulder for a second before he can shake it off. He stumbles into the bathroom and turns around to glance behind his shoulder. The unspoken words hang in the air, the ones you know he wants to say - thank you, I needed that, I need you. Please stay. Please play ‘mommy’ a little longer, please don’t leave me alone. The moment stretches, and the wall goes back up before he says anything. It’s the way his lips set back into their signature smirk, eyes a little brighter, a little more aware of his surroundings. No more fog. No more vulnerability. Game over.

#this was so fucking hot and fun to write holy shit #thank you #roman roy #roman roy smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy/reader #roman roy/you #succession smut #ask #prompt #drabble #my writing

61 notes · View notes

t0xicityz · 1 year ago

Note

I need a Drabble of wonu x reader. He’s showing off his strength indirectly and is non chalant about it which makes his partner so WEAK for him (omg) I beg u pls

Clueless Nerd<3

PAIRING: Jeon Wonwoo x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: He was so focused on himself he forgot his Girlfriend was more focused on him then he was.<3

WARNINGS: slight NSFW MDNI<3

A/N: sorry guys I haven’t been posting much it’s bc I have been quite busy so forgive me please and please send my request an ideas for anything you want me to write about.😭

Wonwoo just had woke up at 6:30am in the morning with you snuggled into his chest, he chuckled before pecking you on the forehead. He got up and got ready to go Downstairs to do his morning workout but before he did he made his protein shake and some breakfast for both the of you.

When he finished eating he went downstairs to the gym and started stretching, when he was done you were already making your way downstairs to watch him. He started working on his arms to start off but you were looking at how hard his biceps were getting every time he pulled up.

It had already been 40minutes and wonwoo looked so fucking sweaty but his face never broke once except for yours, you were hot and bothered looking at his biceps, his abs, his thighs, his back, heck even his ass. You were so dazed that you didn’t realised wonwoo saw you through the mirror.

“Oh hey pretty what are you doing up at this time hm?” You snapped out of your daydream when he started talking. “Just wanted to see my love working out.” You smiled innocently at him as he smiled back not knowing you were actually burning with lust for him.

He went back to working out while you kept staring at his arms and thighs (and ass)wonwoo started getting suspicious of how you were practically glaring at him and his body, and it didn’t take him that long to realise how you were looking at him.

A smug look appeared on his face as he turned around with a stern look. “Hey Pretty mind holding my biceps it’s kind aching a little and I need a hand to help me out.” You quickly nodded before walking over to him and gripping to dear life on that bicep.

You felt the sweat and the heat that was coming from his body as you felt yourself getting dizzy and heated by the fact his bicep kept getting harder and harder. You let go when he put the weight down. “Ok next pretty I need you to sit on me while I do bench presses.” You nodded and when he lied down you sat right on top of him.

When you sat down you can feel his cock through his shorts you nearly mewled when you felt his hips buck up. “Sorry pretty let me just adjust a bit.” And he did while you were sitting on his big cock you were basically soaked down there you wouldn’t be surprised if he was soaked too with how wet you were.

“My pretty girl you are going to have to stop soaking me right now because not only can I feel it soak my shorts but I can also feel it soak my cock as well so be patient petty or you are going to wait until tomorrow.” You whined as you felt yourself rocking your hips back and forth forgetting what he said but stopped when he held your hips still. “I said wait you fucking slut.”

Smack.!

You helped quite loud when you felt his hand come in contact with your ass, you started whining. “You are so impatient you can’t even wait until I’m done huh.?” He quickly got up as he picked you up with him.

“I’ll show you how much I can tame a fucking brat.”

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fanfiction #wonwoo smut #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo

229 notes · View notes

sugar-omi · 1 year ago

Note

my thoughts have been nothing but Cove with a collar and leash. Just you pulling the leash while he fucks you or you fucking him from behind while pulling it. Pulling him down on his knees and having him crawl towards you.

i instantly knew i needed a whole fic on this, anon you could not have sent this at a better time pls... i've actually been thinking abt this all day!! also i'm glad someone else had this thought bc ive thought abt it before n its so.... hnggg... eta now that ive finished writing: THIS IS THE NASTIEST FIC I THINK IVE EVER WRITTEN N ITS LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT'D BE.... i think you can tell i Actually lost my mind while writing, pls i was SO INTO IT AHHH THIS IS MY FAVORITE RN HOLY SHIT

DAY TWO — COLLARING

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3

tags : NSFW, gn reader, multiple choice dialogue, dom!reader + sub!cove, switch cove/reader, begging, a bit of dacryphilia (crying), orgasm denial, master + puppy titles, puppy play (implied/mentioned), dirty talk/degradation

synopsis : you put a collar and leash on cove, he likes the control you have over him.

cove is so handsome already, waking up to your pretty husband always leaves you on cloud nine.

but having cove in front of you, squirming as he tries to be patient while you clasp the collar around his neck and straighten it...

"master..?" cove mutters, speaking carefully as if any louder, and it'll break the moment building between you.

"yes, puppy? what is it?" you pet cove's bangs away from his forehead, settling your fingers in the messy strands.

he's so pretty like this. looking up at you with those big eyes... you could keep him like this forever.

"will you uh..." cove swallows, his fingers finding the ridged edge of his scar. "make it tighter?"

you lift your brows, curious at the request. "i'll tighten it by one loop, no more."

cove smiles, if he had a tail it would wag. "that's fine."

you undo the buckle and tighten it, fidgeting with it until you're satisfied. "there. what do you think?"

cove turns around, not moving from his knees, and faces the mirror where he leans forward and trails the edge of his new collar with his finger tips.

"its nice..." he trails off, feel speechless at his new jewelry, and a natural habit as he gets into the scene.

you pull his head back by his hair, standing over him. "now what do you say to master?" you urge, ready to turn the tables but you're trusting cove to be obedient, especially with his gift.

he licks his lips, squirming. "t-thank you, master.."

you smile, leaning down to kiss your boys forehead. "good boy."

cove gazes into your eyes, so full of love and trust.

and while he's admiring you, probably thinking something cheesy even when he's like this, you clasp the leash on his neck.

"oh-" cove's throat strains against the collar as he tries to look at his new addition.

"you can't walk a dog without a leash, puppy." you remark, not bothering to fight the smirk on your lips.

cove nods, biting his lip as he follows the length of the leash to your hand.

you pet his hair, fixing the strands. "it's weird seeing you with this new collar, isn't it?" you don't expect a reply but cove agrees. "we'll just make new memories with this one..."

"ma-master!" cove whines loudly, pushing his hips back on your strap / dick.

you tut, gripping cove's hips and tugging on his leash hard enough to make his shoulders roll back, you can't fight the grin that spreads across your lips when he yells, and tightens around your length, whining at the drag.

"stay still, puppy. use your words if you want something." you reprimand, leaning over cove's back to kiss his neck.

he pants, tugging at the sheets. "master..."

you work your way up to his jaw, planting kisses all along the way. "yes, puppy?"

cove looks back at you, his eyes big and glassy, "harder.. please?"

you coo, kissing cove's cheek. "see how easy it is to use your words?" you tug on cove's leash to bring his upper body up so you can kiss him, the kiss is messy, and cove is drooling but it's so cute to see how mindless he gets when you put the collar on him.

you adjust your position to fulfill cove's wish, wrapping the leash around your hand and pulling it taut while you fuck into his willing body with abandon.

cove moans loudly, cursing as your tip slams against his prostate.

you grin at the moans easily falling from his lips, singing so beautifully for you. "what do you say?"

cove is silent, save for his loud and lewd moans before he speaks in a shaky voice. "thank you! thank you master!"

you tug on the leash again, relishing in the shaky groan that comes from cove.

"i'm.. i'm gonna cum!" cove pants, clawing at the sheets as he pushes back on your cock.

"don't you dare cum, i didn't give you permission." you wrap your hand between his legs to squeeze the tip.

"ah- y/n, please!" cove begs, wide eyes pleading with you to let him finish.

"bad pups don't get to finish," you growl, tugging on the leash so he's flushed against your chest. "you didn't even address me properly. why would i let you cum?"

cove whimpers, "please.. i'm sorry, master! i'll do anything.."

you kiss his cheeks before you find his lips, softly slipping your tongue in your fretting pups mouth, trying to kiss his distress away.

"poor baby... how about this, if you can fuck me i'll let you cum."

cove looks at you with wide eyes, used to being on the bottom even if you're taking his cock.

he swallows, clearly wishing you'd just fuck him until he can't think but also wanting to obey. he nods, "yes, yes master..."

he's even prettier like this. so pathetic and darling, leaning over you on shaky arms as he weakly ruts into your hole.

"awe, you can do better than that, puppy." you coo, tugging on the leash to get his attention, cove's eyes stuck on your hole swallowing up his sensitive dick.

"but-but... i'm so sensitive!" he cries, referring to the cock ring you slipped on him beforehand.

"but you've endured so much more than a bit of edging, surely my sweet boy can get through this?" you sooth, squeezing cove's hand thats clinging onto yours for comfort.

cove whimpers, resting his head on your shoulder.

you smack your lips irritably. your puppy is so pathetic today, usually he's so enthusiastic even when you deny him orgasm. maybe you need to be more strict...

deciding cove needs to remember who's in charge, you wrap the leash around your hand and stretch your arm out to tug cove out of your shoulder.

"ah-!" cove's eyes widen, and you can feel his cock twitch from the way the sudden tug chokes him, the collar straining on his throat but not uncomfortably painful.

"i'm being lenient here, puppy. don't make me punish you." you fix your eyes sternly, trying to break through cove's fucked out daze. you're still in charge. "do you want your first time in this collar to be a punishment?"

cove shakes his head, his hair flopping around. "no, master.." he mutters weakly.

"come here, sweet boy..." you reach for him, pulling him into a kiss.

cove whines into the kiss, hardly letting you breathe in between kisses. you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth when you break the kiss, pushing against cove's chest.

"keep going puppy, you can finish this time." you promise, making cove light up.

he rambles his thank you's, situating your legs on his shoulders and he starts to move even though his thrusts are shaky and you both moan in tandem when his tip bumps against your cervix / prostate.

this time cove is more enthusiastic, his hips bucking wildly into you and making your bounce against the pillows with every thrust.

cove pants, his lips parted and his tongue poking out. "you're so.. so beautiful, master..."

you coo, accepting the compliment but you can't help but tease him. "so sweet. but are you sure- ah- you're.. not talking about my ass / pussy?"

cove huffs, looking up at you with those same glassy eyes and shaking his head.

you laugh and mock in a shaky voice, "but isn't that why you're such a dumb puppy today? because master fucked you dumb on their dick and even now all you can think about is cumming inside your master."

cove moans lowly at the accusation, and even if he tried to fight it, he can't deny that his thrusts picked up pace, further abusing your insides, and he just pants wildly.

you tug on the leash, propping yourself on your elbows so you can tug his head back. "that's it! let go and just be my dumb cock / pussy drunk puppy!"

cove nods, looking at you with tears slipping from his beautiful eyes, "yes master, wanna.. wanna be yours.." he babbles, holding your hips down so he can thrust up into you, practically humping you like a dog.

"i know baby, tell me how much of a slut you are. admit it, you like when i collar you and make you act like a dog?" you groan, throwing your head back when cove hits a sweet spot inside you

"ye-yes! i love it!" cove pants, his eyes welling up again.

you stutter out a coo in between cove's rough thrusts, "and following me around on all fours, with anal beads shoved up your slutty hole?"

cove whimpers loudly, crumbling at the dirty talk.

"you look so pretty with that tail swinging behind you, i should've put it inside you today." you wistfully ramble.

"gonna-gonna come... master can i please, please cum?" cove whines out through gritted teeth, leaning over you so he's actually humping you this time.

"cum for me puppy, you're so good for me." you praise, reaching between your bodies to stroke your sex, huffing when your fingers brush against the sensitive nerves.

cove finishes quickly, his hips stuttering into your fluttering entrance as he weakly finishes inside you, his cock twitching against your sensitive insides.

you finish with him, shaking and accidently tugging on the leash that's still tight in your grip.

cove whines and curls himself into your neck, his breathing slowly evening out.

you push back his hair, encouraging him to look at you and you're met with his pretty eyes, lashes spiked from tears and his cheeks flushed and sweaty.

you coo, "my beautiful boy, you did so good.." you lean forward to kiss his nose, enjoying how he scrunched up his face. "so you definitely like the collar, baby?"

cove flushes, tilting his head but looking at you through his lashes. eventually he nods, "yeah..."

#sugar omi kinktober #sugar-omi kinktober #olba #our life: beginnings & always #kinktober #cove holden #cove holden x reader #smut #cove holden smut #cove x mc #cove x reader #cove our life #cove holden x mc #cove holden x reader smut #our life smut

132 notes · View notes

butchyeons · 5 months ago

Text

up in space

check it out on ao3!

najeonghyo poly domestic au (ft. ryeji). this fic focuses on jihyo, who’s a traveling nurse, coping with a patient she was really fond of’s passing. also she’s trans and futch bc i said so. jeongyeon and nayeon her emotional support butch and femme respectively. they are very in love!!

trigger warning for discussions of cancer and death. i also use the d slur once but not in a bad way?? if any of that bothers you feel free to skip this one! this fic is a heavy read, so pls be warned!

other tags: hurt/comfort, angst, implied sexual content/jokes, grieving, fluff, domestic stuff idk, discussions of being trans/taking estrogen shots

tysm for all the support on my fics so far! it rlly means a lot. hope you all enjoy- and let me know what you think! this au is rlly special to me and i’ll probably write more in the future bc i love them.

———

Losing a patient was never easy. But this time, it was so much different.

Jihyo did her best to focus on the road- on the long expansion of highway ahead of her. Each time she thought about it, more tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, just like how they had been for the past three days of her shift.

Jihyo wanted to blame it on the estrogen, like she always did. But after being on it for five years, there was only so much blame she could place on her shots. In the back of her mind she could hear Jeongyeon chuckling at her, could see Nayeon giving her that look of sympathy.

“Yah, Jihyo. After a while it becomes less of the hormones and more part of being a woman.” Jeongyeon had said over dinner one night, after Jihyo had spent her whole afternoon crying her eyes out about work. Again.

Jihyo thought that she really understood it now.

Yeji was a sweet girl. She had been in and out of the hospital for years, fighting leukemia. She was diagnosed at a young age, grew up with it. Jihyo met her when she was freshly 13. On the day of her 13th birthday, actually. Jihyo watched as her family- her mom, dad, older sister, and her best friend- brought her a cake and sang her happy birthday. She had one of the brightest smiles Jihyo had ever seen.

Jihyo traveled from hospital to hospital- it was her job to go where she was needed, to specialize in a little bit of everything when it came to pediatrics. But in all her time as a nurse, the hundreds of thousands of patients she saw, she had never found herself as attached to one as she did Hwang Yeji.

She always reminded Jihyo so much of herself. Of that scared little girl that had always lived deep inside her, even before her transition. How that scared little girl never gave up, no matter how bad it got.

When she noticed how that best friend of hers- Ryujin, that was the girl’s name- would stare at her like she put the sun in the sky, she knew. And when she noticed how tightly Yeji would hold Ryujin’s hand as she got the needle in her port changed, how Yeji practically clung to Ryujin during her nausea episodes, she knew.

It reminded her a lot of something she lived through.

The sight of Nayeon in her own hospital bed, her leg shattered, half sobbing as she got the news that she would never be able to walk without pain again- how she wouldn’t be able to return to teaching, effectively getting her passion stolen away in a single afternoon. Jeongyeon held her hand, her expression stern, her eyes never once leaving her wife’s face as the doctor explained the next steps- the surgeries, the physical therapy. Jihyo stood there too, on the other side of Nayeon’s bed, exhausted from having to speed halfway across the country at Jeongyeon’s call. She felt like her heart had broken into a million pieces, scattered in every direction by a wind so strong that she’d never be able to find them all again.

Jihyo had only been with them for a year, then. But when she looked at them, she saw an entire universe. She already knew both of them better than she knew herself. She already knew her specialties, the place she held in both of their lives- fitting in exactly where she needed to, when she needed to. She also already knew then that she would spend the rest of her days with them, if she could.

So when Yeji mentioned her girlfriend to Jihyo one day while she was fixing her IV, Jihyo smiled. She listened, like she always did. She told her she was happy for her, talked about her partners, too. How they were the same. How they had each other, no matter what. Yeji smiled back.

“I hope I can have that one day, too, Ms. Park.”

It was just shy of Yeji’s 16th birthday when Jihyo came back to find her bed empty. It had been a month and a half since Jihyo had been assigned to that hospital. The last time Jihyo spoke with her, they talked about school- how Ryujin had taken their soccer team to the national championships after one last tie-breaker goal in overtime. Yeji was sad she couldn’t be there. She wanted nothing more than to be with Ryujin, was what she told Jihyo.

When she was talking, she was falling asleep. She had been doing that more lately. Jihyo did her best to keep her awake as she changed the needle in her port, told her how good she was doing. Jihyo couldn’t help but notice that she looked so pale, how her vibrant smile had dimmed just slightly. She told Yeji to tell her parents that she said hi, to tell Ryujin congratulations and good luck. She said she couldn’t wait to see her again.

Jihyo gripped the steering wheel impossibly tighter. Her eyes stung, angry thorns of tears working their way up to the surface. She tried to focus on the road- the darkness making everything a bit harder to see. She needed to get glasses. She needed to get home. She needed to get to them.

———

It was nearly 2 am by the time Jihyo pulled into the driveway. The lights were still on in the house- clearly, they were still up. Jihyo mentally scolded them for staying awake for her. But the moment she walked up the steps, only for Jeongyeon to open the door before she could even get her keys out, she forgot all about it.

Jeongyeon didn’t say anything, just held her arms out. Jihyo stepped into them, dropping her backpack on the porch somewhere beside her. Her head found its usual spot- the junction between Jeongyeon’s neck and her shoulder, her nose pressed against the older woman’s pulse point. Jeongyeon just held her, like she always did.

Jeongyeon was all muscle- solid, heavy. She worked outside and it showed. She was rough around the edges, her fingertips worn like the sandpaper she used daily. Jihyo never felt safer than she did in Jeongyeon’s arms.

“Nayeon told me everything- baby, I’m so sorry.” Jeongyeon whispered, her lips brushing against the top of Jihyo’s head.

Jihyo couldn’t miss the way her voice cracked. That’s when she couldn’t hold her tears back anymore.

Jihyo didn’t say anything- she couldn’t, didn’t need to. She just cried. She cried the big, ugly tears she held back for the past three days. She pressed herself into Jeongyeon’s shoulder, her face contorted in pain as she let it all out. Jeongyeon just held her, swaying them both as they stood on the porch, underneath the singular dim light that Jihyo had been meaning to change.

Jihyo had been through so much. Her transition was rough- what she expected to be a casual step into womanhood felt more like a downward freefall with no parachute. She lost everything- her home, her family, her entire support system. But it all seemed so trivial compared to this. At the end of the day, she was breathing. No matter how far she fell, she had someone who could catch her. Two amazing people, actually. And they caught her every single time she fell- over and over again.

The other nurses told her Ryujin was there when she passed. They said they had to practically rip her body out of Ryujin’s arms. They had never seen someone so young but so full of love. Yeji had someone who caught her, too. Even if there was nothing left to catch.

Jihyo asked whatever God was listening to make sure that those two girls met again in the next life, and in every life afterwards. It was the least they deserved. The thought of those two never meeting again in this one made her sob even harder.

“I know, baby.” Jeongyeon whispered, her hand holding the back of Jihyo’s head to her chest, her other arm still wrapped securely around her waist. “I know.”

———

When Jihyo finally calmed down, Jeongyeon helped her inside. She left her in the living room, taking her backpack up to their room. Jihyo could only really stand there, swaying slightly as she stared at the ground- unstable without Jeongyeon to hold her up.

Nayeon, who had been sleeping on the couch snoring peacefully with her jaw half slack, finally stirred. Her eyes slowly opened, a smile forming on her lips as soon as she registered the figure in front of her to be Jihyo. She tried to sit up.

“Jih- ah!” She yelped as she shifted, her leg caught at an awkward angle from how she’d been laying.

At the sound, Jihyo came back down to earth. She quickly rushed to her side, helping her adjust. One of her arms supported Nayeon’s lower back, the other going under the backs of her knees. She helped lift Nayeon up to that she was sitting up straight, her legs out in front of her. She counted to three out loud, waiting for Nayeon to give her a nod, before shifting her again so that her back rested against the back of the couch, her feet on the floor in front of her.

“You really shouldn’t sleep like that, Nay…” Jihyo muttered, no real bite to her words, as she kissed Nayeon’s forehead.

“I know, I just wanted to see you.” Nayeon replied as Jihyo sat down beside her.

“I’ve told you not to stay up late for me.”

“Don’t care.”

“Nayeon-“

Jihyo was cut off as Nayeon pulled her in for a kiss. Their lips met softly, Nayeon’s hand cupping her cheek, helping angle Jihyo’s mouth better to meet hers.

If Jeongyeon was rock, Nayeon was fire. Jihyo always melted right into her. No amount of walls Jihyo had built up could ever resist the pure heat that radiated off of Nayeon. At first it was scary- she had never met someone who made her feel so vulnerable, open. But now the heat was welcomed- needed. It kept Jihyo alive. She wouldn’t want it any other way.

“There’s dinner in the fridge if you’re hungry.” Nayeon whispered as she pulled away, her hand still caressing Jihyo’s cheek. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. I ate on the way home earlier.” Jihyo whispered, her eyes closed. “I’ll have some for lunch tomorrow.”

The couch shifted behind Jihyo. She felt a familiar arm wrapping around her waist, steadying her.

“You better.” Jeongyeon whispered, her nose finding Jihyo’s neck. “She made it just for you- the pickiest eater I’ve ever met.”

Jihyo chuckled.

“You both signed up for my picky eating the night you picked me up at the bar.”

Jeongyeon huffed, pulling Jihyo’s back against her front. She pressed a kiss to Jihyo’s neck.

“And you’ve been a pain in the ass ever since. I love you so much.”

“I love you more.” Nayeon added, leaning in to kiss Jihyo again. “So much more.”

If Jeongyeon was the moon and Nayeon was the sun, Jihyo was the constellation that lay between the two of them. She needed them as much as they needed her.

“No fighting.”Jihyo whispered between kisses. “I’m too tired to deal with it.”

Nayeon chuckled as she pulled away, her thumb stroking Jihyo’s cheek.

“You started it.”

“Did not.” Jihyo said, smirking.

Before Nayeon could go back in for another kiss, Jeongyeon groaned. She pulled her face away from Jihyo’s neck, both of her arms still wrapped around the younger woman’s waist.

“Can we go to bed?” She asked.

Jihyo tilted her head back, resting fully against Jeongyeon’s front.

“You don’t even have work tomorrow.”

“I wanted to get some work done around the house.” Jeongyeon grunted.

Jihyo hummed.

“Can it wait a day?”

Jeongyeon huffed through her nose, pressing a kiss to the side of Jihyo’s head.

“Do you need a day?”

Whenever Jihyo had an exceptionally bad shift, she always needed a period of decompression. And usually that decompression consisted of laying around with her girls, watching mindless dramas or reality tv, and lots of kisses. And sex, too. But mainly the first three.

“I need a day.” Jihyo replied.

“You can take as much time as you need, Ji.” Nayeon said as she scooted herself closer. “I know how much you cared about her.”

Jihyo sighed, but smiled sadly. Her thoughts were racing still. It felt like an open wound directly on the center of her heart- everything kept bothering it. There was so much she wished she could’ve said or done. She didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“I love you both.” Was all Jihyo could say before the tears came back again.

———

None of them spoke anymore that night. They didn’t really need to. Jeongyeon helped Nayeon get up from the couch, her arm secured around her wife’s waist as she led her back to their bedroom. Jihyo followed behind them, sneaking off into to master bathroom after giving them both one last kiss.

She needed a shower- needed to wash the hospital smell out of her hair, to get the days of built up sweat off of her skin. She did her best to not think about it anymore- tried to focus on the things she could be doing instead, on what she had right in front of her. Her therapist told her she tended to dwell on the “what ifs”, which always blinded her from the “right nows”. And right then, she was home, safe. Surrounded by love.

She was so damn lucky to have them- to be loved by them. They saved her life, and she saved theirs. That’s how they worked. That’s how they would always work.

After she finished blowdrying her hair, too exhausted to do her sacred skincare routine, she slinked out of the bathroom. Nayeon was already asleep again- snoring loudly. Next to her, Jeongyeon was still looking at her phone. As soon as Jihyo got into her pajamas, she leaned over and turned the bedside lamp off. Jihyo crawled in between the two of them, doing her best to not jostle Nayeon, who just shifted slightly, her arm instinctively throwing itself over Jihyo’s waist in her sleep.

Jeongyeon adjusted herself so that Jihyo was resting her head on her chest, like always. Jeongyeon was warm- she got so warm when the three of them slept together that eventually she just opted to sleep in boxers and nothing else- but Jihyo needed it. Her body shivered a bit, still adjusting to the temperature shift from the bathroom. Somehow, Nayeon wiggled even closer to her, her arm getting even tighter as she was still snoring.

No matter what happened, Jeongyeon and Nayeon always kept Jihyo tied down, grounded. No matter how high up she floated, they always managed to pull her back in. They had a gravitational pull all of their own- the sun, moon, and stars all in one bed together.

“Love you.” Jihyo muttered, her eyes finally closing easily for the first time in days.

“Love you too. Always will.” Jeongyeon answered.

It didn’t take long at all for both of them to fall asleep.

———

The next time Jihyo worked at that hospital, the head nurse, Dahyun, stopped her.

“Hey, Jihyo. Someone came by and left this letter for you a few days ago.” She said, handing an envelope to her.

Jihyo raised her eyebrows, examining it. It was a yellow envelope, her name written on the front. It was held closed with a sticker of the smiling cat emoji. She thanked Dahyun as she folded it in half and placed it in one of the pockets of her scrubs, heading off to help another patient.

When she got to her lunch break, she finally got to check it. She sat in her car, her lunchbox out on the seat beside her. Inside, Nayeon had made sure to pack all of her favorites to last her for the few days she was gone, along with her usual handwritten note wishing her good luck (which was Jihyo’s favorite part of lunchtime). She picked out one of the sandwiches and a bag of chips before closing the bag back up.

She reached inside her pocket and pulled the envelope out. Jihyo carefully opened it, doing her best to not rip the cat sticker, taking out the letter that was inside. It was written on notebook paper in blue ink- the page covered in other tiny, scribbled drawings of cats. The handwriting was a bit messy, but still somehow neat- extremely unique. When she noticed the name at the top, Jihyo smiled.

Ms. Park,

This is Shin Ryujin. I’m not sure if you’ll remember me, but you took care of my girlfriend, Hwang Yeji, up until she passed. I wanted to write you this letter as a way of saying thank you. You helped her through some really hard times, without even knowing. Her parents weren’t really happy about us being together. Of course, they wouldn’t leave her, but they scolded me and her a lot. It sucked to have that on top of everything else.

But what didn’t suck was when you were there. You were a really good shoulder for her to lean on. She was always so happy telling me about you and your partners (wives? I hope you guys get married or something). You helped her accept a lot of herself. That helped me accept a lot of myself, too.

She wanted to be a nurse, just like you. She wanted to open her own hospital, eventually. All she ever thought about was helping others, no matter how sick she got. She even still tried to give blood when we did blood drives at school for her. She was the sweetest girl I had ever met. I think I’ll love her until the day I die. I hope you feel that way about your girls, too.

Even though there was nothing that could be done to prevent what happened, you really saved her life. You saved mine, too. Please, keep doing what you do. You really were a lifeline for two clueless lesbians, haha. Hopefully you’ll help more in the future. In fact, I know you will.

Thank you for everything. I can only hope to meet you again in the future. I’ll never forget you. I hope you never forget us.

- Shin Ryujin

P.S. We won the championship! Thank you for the well wishes. Yeji passed a few days after. I told her I’d win for her- and I did.

I think I’ll keep doing everything for her.

Attached to the letter was a picture of them. It was a selfie- Ryujin holding the phone up while Yeji smiled that same brilliant smile that Jihyo always knew. She was bundled up in a jacket, sweater, and a beanie, while Ryujin only had on a sweatshirt. They were at the beach- the ocean waves crashing onto the shore behind them. The bottom of the photo had a date written- February. Yeji had passed in late April.

It was a lot for Jihyo to read, to take in. She felt a pit form in her stomach- a black hole that would open up and swallow her. She set the letter and photo down, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She looked out at the side of the hospital building- trying to count the bricks on the side of the wall, trying to give herself something to keep her grounded.

It really wasn’t enough. She needed something stronger, needed her gravitational pull- she needed her universe.

Jihyo immediately pulled her phone out and called Jeongyeon. Really, her number was off limits except for emergencies. But she figured she would let this one slide. She quickly found Jeongyeon’s contact and pressed the call button.

The line rang a few times before someone picked up. Jihyo was met with the clear sounds of a jackhammer whirring in the background, along with men yelling at one another. And then there was Jeongyeon’s laugh.

“Mind your business- Seriously, Changbin. Get back to work- I’m your boss. I can do what I want. Shut up.” Jeongyeon yelled- clearly, one of her guys was up her ass about her taking a phone call.

After a few more moments of bickering over the sounds of heavy machinery, Jihyo listened as a door slammed- all the noises cutting out in an instant. She smiled when Jeongyeon huffed.

“This better be good, Park Jihyo.” She said, annoyed. But that act faded immediately, like it always did. “Are you okay?”

“Yah, Jeongyeon. I’m pregnant. It’s yours.” Jihyo said, grinning as she took a bite of her sandwich.

“I’m finally gonna be a dad?” Jeongyeon asked in that stupid, playful voice of hers, feigning excitement.

“Seems like it. Was daddy just not good enough for you?”

“Oh that’s never enough, baby. Need to actually get you-“

“Oh my god, Jeongyeon- shut up.” Jihyo said, cutting off the older woman, nearly choking on her food. “You’re so- god you can’t even- you’re disgusting!”

Jihyo sputtered over her words as she coughed. Jeongyeon just laughed. Typical.

“God- are you busy?” Jihyo asked once she was able to breathe.

“I’m at work, Hyo. Yes.”

“Well do you have a second?”

“For you.” Jeongyeon sighed. Jihyo could hear her smile through the phone. “What’s wrong? You never call at this time. Did something happen?”

“Well, no. But yes.” Jihyo answered, setting her food down to tap at her phone. “Wait. Let me add Nayeon- I need you both here for this.”

Jeongyeon hummed. Jihyo started the three-way call, the line ringing a few times before Nayeon picked up.

“Hi baby!” She said cheerfully. “Oh wait, you’re both here- did something happen? You never call at work.”

Despite their obvious differences, Jihyo thought it was almost comical how similar Jeongyeon and Nayeon were. Jihyo sighed, smiling down at the call screen.

“I got a letter today. I wanted you both to hear it.”

So, Jihyo read it out to them. By the end of the second read, she was fighting back her tears again. When she told them about the picture, it was nearly impossible to speak without her voice cracking.

It was the estrogen- had to be that. She just took her shot yesterday. That’s what she told herself. That’s why everything felt so heavy, why her voice fluttered between octaves, a bird angrily trying to claw its way out of a cage. The typical symptoms of second puberty- of womanhood.

Jeongyeon and Nayeon were both silent. A few moments passed before there was a sniffle on Jeongyeon’s end.

“Hyo, oh my god.”

Jihyo couldn’t hold back then. She grit her teeth, leaning back into her seat, her body trembling as she gripped her phone- trying to hold back the sobs. She gasped for air without meaning to. She wished she was home, wished she was between her sun and moon.

“You saved her life, Jihyo.” Nayeon whispered.

In Jihyo’s mind, all she saw was the night they met. She had never even been to a gay bar before- but she was down on her luck, needed to have a good time. She still felt like she was pretending, felt like she was dressing up as the idea of a woman. She needed to be around people like her. She had been taking her shots for a month then- living in her car as she traveled from hospital to hospital, praying her patients and coworkers would just be decent. Decency was found few and far between back then.

She was just about to call it a night when a couple came up to her. They asked for her name, asked if she lived in town- said they’d remember seeing a pretty face like hers. When she explained she was just in for a few days before she took off on call again, they asked if she’d like to go home with them- to stay for the night, to have some fun. And how could Jihyo deny the most gorgeous butch and femme she had ever seen of anything, especially after they bought her a drink and showered her in compliments. And then the one night stay turned into a permanent residence, into stability. Decency turned into real, genuine love.

A whole ocean of people were in that bar that night, but somehow the tides pulled them towards each other. She wasn’t even trying to be seen- wanted to let the waves just take her where they felt. But every day she thanks whatever divine being blessed her with the lifeboat that was Yoo Jeongyeon and Im Nayeon, how they pulled her on board and allowed her a spot in their crew. She had her life saved. And more importantly, she got to keep doing the same for others because of it.

“E-Even if she didn’t make it, you saved her.” Nayeon said, clearly choked up on her own tears. “Both of them.”

Jihyo nodded. She had finally calmed down. She stared at the half eaten sandwich, sitting haphazardly in her lap.

“I saw so much of myself in her.” She muttered. “I saw so much of us in both of them. She deserved so much more than she got. Both of them did.”

There was a moment of silence again. The black hole in the pit of Jihyo’s stomach was gone.

“You’re really amazing, Jihyo.” Jeongyeon said, her voice distant. “I don’t even have the words.”

Jihyo let out a huff, smiling. She could feel the floorboard of her car underneath her feet, registered the texture of her shirt as she brushed some breadcrumbs away. Back down on earth.

“You two are biased.”

Both of them made noises of protest, which crackled over the speakers of her phone.

“So what if I am?” Nayeon asked. “You’re one of the most selfless people on this planet. I’m lucky to have you- Jeongyeon and I both are.”

“I will say it until my last breath and mean it every single time-” Jeongyeon cut in. “You are amazing, Park Jihyo. God. You are a life saver- literally.”

Jihyo leaned back in her seat, finally taking another bite of her sandwich. There was no point in arguing with them- that’s how it always was. But their words helped her feel real again. She felt like a human being by their sides.

“Fine. Whatever you say.”

“We wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true, and you know that.” Nayeon said softly.

Jihyo smiled, her face still wet from her tears. Her speakers vibrated when Jeongyeon chuckled, sniffling again.

“God- you call me at work and make me cry. The guys will never let me live this one down.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes, wiping up the last remnants of her emotions with the sleeve of her undershirt.

“So what? They’ll never understand what it’s like to be a woman. Not like we do, anyways.”

Nayeon hummed in agreement, her sweet, bunny-toothed smile clear as day over the phone. Jihyo wished she could see it. Jeongyeon laughed- that bubbly, staggered laugh that Jihyo absolutely adored.

“You’re damn right they won’t.” Jeongyeon said firmly.

———

From that day forward, Jihyo kept the letter and picture in her glovebox. She got over it the best she could- she had to. She knew better than to dwell on it for too long, to spend too much time thinking about the “what ifs”.

But when she was having an exceptionally rough shift, she looked at them. When she was mentally beating herself to a pulp, telling herself how she needed to be better, she thought about them. When she broke herself down to her barest, most raw essentials, examining every part of herself thoroughly before putting it all back together, she reminded herself that there was a point. She had to keep going. If not for herself, for other people. She had people to help, lives to save.

If Ryujin could keep going, she could, too. She had someone to fight for- and so did Jihyo. She had two people.

She was back home, snuggled inbetween Jeongyeon and Nayeon in their bed that was so clearly not made to fit all three of them. Her back was pressed as close as it ever could be to Jeongyeon’s front as Nayeon kissed her, their noses bumping into one another from the weird angle. It made Jihyo giggle, made Nayeon smile even harder. Jeongyeon pressed a kiss to the back of Jihyo’s head.

“Would you two love birds cut it out so I can sleep?” She mumbled, her voice muffled by Jihyo’s hair.

“You’re off tomorrow.” Nayeon said bluntly between more kisses.

Jeongyeon groaned. “I have to get the light on the porch fixed.”

Jihyo eyed Nayeon, who gave her one last kiss, before shifting so that she faced Jeongyeon. Nayeon’s arms replaced Jeongyeon’s easily, finding their usual spot at Jihyo’s waist.

“It’s not that hard to change a lightbulb, baby.” Jihyo whispered as she took Jeongyeon’s face in her hands, her thumbs circling the apples of her cheeks. “I think you’re just getting worn out.”

Jeongyeon rolled her eyes, pursing her lips into that signature annoyed smile she always did.

“It’s because of you two.”

Jihyo smirked, Nayeon made an annoyed sound somewhere behind her. She pulled Jeongyeon in for a kiss- deep, but soft. Their lips moved the same way they always had, always would. When Jihyo felt Jeongyeon’s tongue swipe against her lower lip, she shifted again- sitting up to straddle the older woman’s hips, her hands finding her bare chest- never breaking their kiss. Of course, Jeongyeon was already shirtless, heat radiating off of her tanned skin from how closely the three of them were pressed together. Nayeon moved closer, clinging to her wife, her mouth finding its way to Jeongyeon’s collarbone. When Jeongyeon whimpered, Jihyo finally pulled away.

“You love it though, really.” She said, smirking. Her grip tightened, earning another small sound of need.

The sight of Jeongyeon underneath her, of Nayeon holding onto her as if she’d slip away would never fail to make Jihyo feel like she was in heaven. The way their bodies moved together, how natural it all felt- Jihyo was the luckiest person in the entire world. Her whole universe squeezed onto a king sized mattress; the sun, moon, and stars all contained in three tired, old dykes.

Jihyo rolled her eyes. Nayeon pressed a kiss to Jeongyeon’s cheek. Jeongyeon just smiled.

“I do.”

———

Jihyo stepped down from the ladder, wiping the sweat off her brow that had formed in the brief time it took for her to switch out the old lightbulb on the porch. It was the dead of summer now- the sun baring down its rays angrily, warming everything up to what felt like a boiling point.

Beside her, Nayeon sat in one of the chairs, in sunglasses with her favorite sundress on, three glasses of fresh lemonade on the table next to her. Her legs were propped up on the wicker footrest they bought after her accident. A random piece of white wood furniture among all the black metal. It didn’t match the set, but it worked. Jihyo always thought it was funny that she could relate to a footrest.

“She’s still got it in her, doesn’t she?” Nayeon asked, referring to their third half.

Jihyo turned, watching as Jeongyeon fought to turn their push mower on. She gave the chord a few more good pulls, trying her damnedest to get it started. That thing had been giving her hell for the past few weeks- it was on its last leg, needed to be replaced the moment they got it. But the three of them were stubborn, wanted to get their money’s worth out of the 20 year old hunk of metal that they bought used at a garage sale. All ₩40,000 worth.

“I’m more so concerned about why you feel the need to babysit.” Jihyo said, sitting down in the chair beside Nayeon’s.

She took a good look at Nayeon- at the way her bottom lip poked out, pouting as she judged her wife. She pushed her sunglasses up on her head, revealing those beautiful, round eyes. Her face scrunched from the sunlight, her nose crinkling. Jihyo thought she was the prettiest person to have ever existed.

“There’s a masc shortage, sweetheart.” Nayeon said, shifting to get her glass of lemonade off the table. She took a sip. “I can’t have anyone trying to steal her from us.”

Jihyo chuckled. She watched as Jeongyeon finally gave up, letting out an annoyed groan as she kicked the side of the lawnmower. As if by magic, the machine whirred to life. Jeongyeon let out her excited squawks, jumping around it in a circle with her arms up before turning to look up at them on the porch, a giant grin plastered on her face, adorned by those beautiful crescent moon eyes.

Jihyo waved, smiling back. Nayeon clapped beside her, cheering. Jeongyeon took a bow before adjusting herself and cheerfully flexing her biceps- putting on a show for her two favorite girls, as always. Nayeon whistled, and Jihyo rolled her eyes, laughing. She looked like an idiot. Jihyo loved her more than words would ever describe.

“I don’t think anyone besides us wants her that badly, Nay.” Jihyo huffed out, taking a sip of her drink.

“I’d sure hope so.” Nayeon said, looking over at her. “I’m selfish. No one deserves her more than we do. I don’t wanna share.”

Jihyo shared the same sentiment, but didn’t say it. She sat back on her seat, watching as Jeongyeon finally got to mowing the grass- sweat already ruining the muscle shirt that clung to her torso. She glanced over at Nayeon again, who was smiling so brightly, laughing as she watched Jeongyeon do her best to maneuver that piece of junk around the front yard, pulling her sunglasses back down over her eyes.

These were her people. They were her reason for existing, for continuing to exist. They made life seem so simple- so perfect. She had something to fight for that was real, tangible. She was so lucky to have this, to have them. To have them share themselves with her, to lay everything about themselves out on the table for her. Over and over, they shared everything. Jihyo never knew she could have this much love for more than one person- she never knew soulmates could be a trio until she met them.

“I’m gonna go get dinner started. Wanted to make kimchi stew for you.” Nayeon said. “Help me up?”

Jihyo set her drink down. Wordlessly she got up, going over to Nayeon’s side, taking her empty cup from her. She lifted Nayeon’s ankles up and off the footrest, gently setting her feet down on the ground. She moved to wrap her arm around Nayeon’s waist, counted to three, waited for Nayeon’s approval, before hoisting her up. They stood there for a moment, ignoring the heat, pressed as close together as they possibly could be.

“Thank you, baby.” Nayeon said softly, pulling Jihyo in for a kiss.

“It’s not a problem, Nay. You know that.” Jihyo said, smiling as Nayeon pulled away.

“I know.” Nayeon whispered, tapping Jihyo’s cheek a few times with her fingers. “But can’t a girl say thank you to her emotional support futch every once in a while?”

Jihyo snorted.

“I guess she can. Especially when you say it so sweetly.”

She helped Nayeon get inside along with their empty cups, her arm never leaving the older woman’s waist until they made it to the kitchen. Nayeon insisted she could handle it from there. And really, Jihyo knew she could, but the worry would never leave. She had come a long way since the accident- her body bounced back shockingly well. She just needed a little help getting started still, and Jihyo was more than happy to provide it.

After a few more kisses and some filthy comments about what they’d be doing later from Nayeon, Jihyo went back out to check on Jeongyeon. The lawnmower had finally given out, but thankfully Jeongyeon had just finished the yard. She was sitting on the steps, slamming the glass of lemonade that Nayeon had left behind for her.

“You good, Jeong?” Jihyo asked, her arms crossed as she stood behind her.

Jeongyeon finished the glass, grinning from ear to ear as she tilted her head back to look up at Jihyo.

“Never been better, Hyo.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes and helped pull her up. Jeongyeon stretched her arms out, her back cracking loudly. It made both of them laugh. Jeongyeon took the opportunity to pull Jihyo into one of her bear hugs.

“God- Jeongyeon- you’re so sweaty.” Jihyo protested. Her arms wrapped right around Jeongyeon’s waist, her head finding its spot on her shoulder. “Get off of me.”

“You love it though. Can’t get enough of it.” Jeongyeon teased, pressing a kiss to Jihyo’s temple.

“Shut up.” Jihyo hissed, finally pulling away. “Go take a shower.”

Jihyo went back into the house and Jeongyeon followed her. While Jihyo stopped to take her shoes off, Jeongyeon got right behind her, landing a smack on her ass and causing her to yelp.

“C’mon baby. You wouldn’t be complaining about it if I took you right here- you love it that much.” Jeongyeon said, smirking mischievously before running off, back to their bedroom.

“Shut up!” Jihyo yelled, regaining her balance. “Oh my god. You and Nayeon are so nasty! No decorum around here.”

“Wouldn’t be fun if we had any, and you know it.” Nayeon said, peeking her head out from the kitchen. She had her usual grin on her face.

Jihyo rolled her eyes. She walked back to the kitchen and rejoined her partner, helping Nayeon prep the ingredients for the stew. After a bit, Jeongyeon finally came back down- freshly showered, her short, wet hair messy from where she lazily towel dried it. As Jihyo was cutting up pieces of tofu, she watched Jeongyeon walk up behind Nayeon, her arms wrapping around her waist.

Jihyo smiled at the sight of the two of them. Nayeon smiled, leaning back against her wife, whispering something up to her that Jihyo couldn’t quite catch. Jeongyeon just chuckled, her nose pressing into Nayeon’s hair.

She couldn’t help but think about them again- about the life they could’ve had together. She couldn’t help but see a future for them every time she passed by that hospital room. The way Yeji would speak and Ryujin would just listen, smiling. How Ryujin would hold Yeji’s hand the entire time. They deserved something good more than anyone else. She was happy they had each other until the end.

She could only hope to have a love like that. Well, she didn’t really need to hope for it- she had it. It was already right in front of her, their force of gravity pulling her in over and over again.

#nik.txt #my fics #twice fic #jeongyeon #nayeon #jihyo #najeonghyo #3mix #omg i’m so proud of this fic i rlly hope you all like it #poly najeonghyo au

13 notes · View notes

endlesslyxmused · 27 days ago

Text

NAME?: Aeryn/Ae

PRONOUNS?: They/He (AFAB Nonbinary with masc leaning)

MOST ACTIVE MUSES?: Rune and Rhys, Delirium, Hope, and Lilith

EXPERIENCE/HOW MANY YEARS? ....I started RP in 2004. 21 years...jfc. I've been in and out of so many RPC. Neopets, Gaia in the gogaia years, Proboards, MSN Messenger, Gaia in the B/C Community since 2009, Tumblr on and off, AIM, Skype....You name it, I've probably RP'd on it. I've been on so many blogs too. @misstisalir is one, a Wanda Maximoff blog whose name I don't remember, I was in Jurassic World, and....So many. So so so many.

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?: Yes. I like all of them in varied measure. I prefer partners for Smut be over the age of 24-25, but that has a lot to do with me being in my early thirties and just feeling WEIRD about it otherwise. I love getting to build relationships between characters too. IF your char gets feels, lmk! I'm a multi-shipper so~

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?: I do my best to try to match length with my partner, tho sometimes I get all wrapped up in my own head and things can get lengthy. When I write with @invarietas (Fen), I usually tend to write longer stuff, but I have other 1x1 RP partners where it's shorter. Depends on the character, the person.

PET PEEVES?: I really get nervous about a lot of things so if people get snippy about how I communicate, it can really grind my gears. I have a lot of old trauma and shit around the RPC so I try my best, but people who aren't patient with it...well. It can get on my nerves. 2nd is probably just being passive aggressive about things. If there's an issue with me directly, pls just tell me and I'll fix it ^^;;

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE?: Which one lol. No but for real, I feel like any char I pick up was taken on bc I identified with them in some way or another. The only exceptions to this are Rune and Rhys, who I made based on two Alters in my system (I have DID). The Alters do not like the characters XD Mostly because there are quite a few major differences made.

TIME TO WRITE?: Yes. If I'm awake, I wanna write. I'm a bit of an escapism person, even at work (I literally make pretty pictures for a living lol). Sending me ask memes or random little one-liners is always welcome. Hells, send me a super long starter too, I don't mind!

TAGGED BY: @stupidiinspades TAGGING: Whoever wants to do it! Feel free to steal

#In Another Life // OOC #I FEEL LIKE THIS WASN'T SUPER CLEAR #I'M SORRY #I AM BRAIN-FRIED

2 notes · View notes

moonliched · 2 years ago

Note

I just wanna say I adore your fic so so much. Everything is so nice and entertaining. I certainly can't wait for the proper meeting of the complete fishy bois. Also you don't have to compare the assistant ai!! I love bon-bon so much that he's growing on me like algae/lh

I love how he just worries about Y/N when they just brush him off saying they're just another replaceable cog to this system. Like the way he goes.

"But you're a person."

Makes me think he's not really well versed in stuff and still learning and that's what makes him so cute and fascinating. Bonbon our only ally fr fr

ALSO MOON!!! HE'S SO ANXNJEJDJRJF I JUST WANNA SQUISH IM AND BITE HIM. SHAKE HIM LIKE A FERAL DOG W THEIR TOY.

A MENACE.

I still snicker at the misunderstandings like Y/N trying to run away and Moon just goes "Play? Play! FRIEND PLAY!!!"

He's like a cat batting at anything that moves SJXJJEJDJDNEKD

Can I ask what he was trying to do, throwing fish at Y/N? Like I initially thought it was like a thank you but HAHAHA I'm not so sure.

I cackled on the bit where "IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME" Junior researcher. PLS YOU LITERALLY LIKE EXPOSED EVERY DCA ENJOYER.

NOT THE REDACTED IM FUCKING SOBBING OVER IT.

Bonbon literally has the normal reaction and reader's like wdym haha

I wanna ask so many questions but I must be patient and wait for everything to unravel OWOENDKSNDJD

Honestly I got curious and went to tumblr to see some extra content and it didn't disappoint.

I didn't expect the scene where Bronii and Y/N sees Moon glowing to be so ethereal looking!!!

He's sk beautiful augh. NOT ONLY HIM BUT OUR VERY OWN Y/N

Y/N is very pretty and i love them sm. I love the banter between them and BonBon. I just can't help but laugh that the bunny was going to jab about their ancestors in their oceanic planet.

I absolutely adore your AU and will keep rereading it <333333

I sincerely hope you recover well and take your time to heal before attempting to do more <333333 Put yourself first <3 we can wait

sneef aheem heem🥺 this is such a nice message🥺😭😭💕

i'm ecstatic you like it!!!!! tbh BON-BON is growing on me so algae-like that i need to elevate other characters so he doesn't overtake them😅 i'm sure some ppl know how it is when a supporting character kinda starts to overshadow the mains accidentally. but instead of cutting him down, the others will rise instead. also you're right, BON-BON has confidence but he's not as well-versed in relationships and social knowledge as he presents himself. he's naive, a little. and he has a mental hierarchy of AI at the bottom, living beings at the top that's being challenged by how carelessly Y/N is being treated.

i ADORE writing Moon! so when he was throwing the fish at Y/N, he was mimicking their tactic of using food to lure him forward. kinda like how they were doing with the crabs in that moment. he wanted to form some kind of trust using food and make them come closer. at that point he had yet to see them without their mask, so to his knowledge other communication methods like speech weren't available.

heeheehoo i wanted him to look very dazzling during the hypnotism scene🥰😳 and i noticed with half of his face covered with the esca he looks more human?? which would help with luring humans bc it kinda obscures the uncanny valley aspect of his usual face shape. i love drawing all of them!

i hope to update the fic soon! recovery isn't going as planned, so i'll be sure to rest, but i've been looking forward to answering this since i saw it in my inbox☺️and i love getting Q's about my fic. thank sm for such a nice message!!💞✨💗✨🌼💖

#ask #sorry for the delay #There Are Many Benefits #fnaf mermaid au

22 notes · View notes

blacksapphhicmaddonna · 2 years ago

Text

I WOULDN’T DREAM OF IT.

Chapter 2 - Roll The Dice

Black!Carol Danvers x Maria Rambeau

Ft. Monica Rambeau

CW: slight mentions of- homophobic slurs(not written out), deciding not to report harassment in the military, one mention of a security/police officer, being drunk/partying, minor cuts/scrapes/bruises, parenting, loss of a parent, childhood trauma, regaining lost memories. also, a big part of this chapter is set in a flashback. nothing too crazy for any of this, but I just want everyone to know that these things are mentioned!

A/N: hey y'all! so, I wrote this like a book. it's long per usual, and this one's a bit angsty but nothing too serious. also sooooo sorry this is so late lmao, life comes at you hard and fast sometimes but we getting it together every day! I'll try to be quicker w/ updates🫡. much love, muahhh. thank you for reading! x ps. this isn't proof read bc I stayed up til 6:30 in the morning to finish writing it LMFAOO.💀 I'll come back at some point and proof read it, but sorry for any typos/grammar/syntax oddities as always.

Word Count: 19,078 (jump scare🫣)

Link to AO3!

title header & mood art by me⋆˙⟡♡ pls don't use/post elsewhere without asking! (lmk if y'all like it though! i'm thinking about doing stuff like this for all/most of my fics maybe)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ Taglist⋆｡ﾟ ☾ﾟ｡⋆｡︎☁ﾟ｡⋆:

@mybonafidefeelings @maysflourish @nanajen8

also go read @mybonafidefeelings's new danbeau/carolxmaria series RIGHT NEOWWWW if you haven't already🥰

and while you're at it, go check out all the fics everyone in the taglist have written! they never disappoint!

here we gooooo, I hope you enjoy part two.💗

Once Monica finished her breakfast, she helped Carol clean up while she told her stories about her friends at school, all the inventions she'd come up with, and any other story her mind mustered up. She wanted to fill in as many blanks as possible for her other mother. Carol listened intently, taking in every moment of her daughter. She wanted to remember everything, even the things that might not seem important to other parents in different circumstances. She wanted to be able to reference these stories, prove that she remembered, that she cared enough to listen. Partly because her own parents never showed an interest, instead always finding the time to show their genuine dislike for her for whatever many reasons they had, or just disregarding her altogether. But also because Monica had always been so welcoming, so ready to receive her back like nothing had happened - or maybe like everything did happen and she still chose to hold on tight to her mother, choosing not to let the time separate them. So Carol held on tight too, wanting to prove she was reliable to the girl. She appreciated how open Monica was to her returning, but she also knew she had been gone for a long time. Longer than she should have been, she often thought. She knew that Monica was young, and might eventually change her mindset on the matter. She had every right to. It would make sense to feel some kind of way, and that scared Carol to her core. So she wanted to at least try and show up in the best way she could. Be present, be a mother - not just someone who literally drops in every now and then. She wanted to give the girl something she could hold onto, something she could trust.

Carol was always so in awe of both of the Rambeaus. Even though Maria always said that she and Monica were so much alike, she loved how much she was just like her mother too. Stubborn, but sure of herself. Interested in everything, always ready to learn and push forward - but soft, in her own way. Gentle, patient and kind. They both would go out of their way, even if it didn’t always seem like they were. She looked like her, too. Her brown eyes, her hair, the way she walked. She was just like Maria in the best ways (not that there was a bad way to be like Maria Rambeau), and also very much just herself. Just Monica, and she was the most amazing child the world had ever managed to produce. Carol was sure of it.

When they had finished in the kitchen, Carol decided to take a shower too. The hot water should be filled up again, and she was starting to feel the leftover sweat from last night mixing with the approaching heat from the day. Monica sat on the couch and turned on some cartoons, feeling fulfilled from breakfast which made Carol feel proud of herself for a lot of reasons. Cooking was something she always struggled with because she never had anybody to teach her. Maria thinks she might just naturally be a clutz in the kitchen too, but regardless, she worked with her for years as they grew up trying to teach her how to cook, giving her the gentle instruction and patience she never had. Usually to no avail, but it was a fond memory for both of them. Carol smiled, thinking that if her success in making pancakes this morning was any indication of the kind of day she would have with her daughter, she was sure it would be a good one. She wandered back upstairs, running her hands along the walls that still had blue and purple marker stains on them in some spots. As she walked through the hallway towards her shared room, she passed Monica’s room and couldn't help but smile. The girl’s room was what anybody would expect if they’d met her. A little messy, super colorful. She had her personality everywhere. A model of the solar system she had made when she was a little younger for a school project hung from the ceiling over her bed. A stuffed animal Carol had won for her at a carnival when she was a toddler, Maria had one to match that she secretly kept hidden in the drawer next to her bed still. She had drawings on blue construction paper all over her walls, mostly of her inventions (she called them her blueprints). The one picture that was on regular white paper had the word “Family” written on it. A crayon picture of Maria and Carol, with Monica in the middle. Carol’s heart skipped a beat seeing it. She was so lucky, she thought again. She passed the door and made her way to the end of the hall with a happy stride. The day had just begun and she was already doing better than she expected.

She stepped into the room and paused, her smile growing inward in an almost shy way. She was greeted with the scent and feel of Maria. She inhaled deeply, feeling a level of comfort roll through her body and pang in her chest. Mmm. Carol whispered to herself, almost embarrassed. But she couldn’t help it. She was everywhere. As much as they had kept Carol present in their lives, making sure she was alive and never erased from her fingerprint on the home, it had still been years since Carol had been gone so it made perfect, almost comforting sense to her that they had made it their own. They had to make it comfortable, they had to fill in the empty space. Just like Monica’s room, Maria’s was a perfect snapshot of her personality. It was well kept, everything had a place to be. If it ever did get messy, Carol was sure it didn’t last long. She looked over the room, noting the books next to the bed where Maria slept, all of them half read with bookmarks Monica had made her in them. She looked at the tray of jewelry sitting on the dresser, full of small dainty necklaces and a few pairs of stud earrings with different shapes, and a few pairs of hoops Maria would only wear if she was going out. She looked at the closet, one side open from this morning. All the clothes are organized by color, with a few boxes sitting on the top shelf. Even the bed they had slept in, it was already made perfectly to military standards with the edges tucked in perfectly - except for the top where Maria had extra pillows, all with light purple pillow cases contrasting the perfect white ones underneath.

She looked at the picture frames sitting on Maria’s perfectly organized desk as she walked over to it. On the left side was a picture of her and Monica at a park that had to be fairly recent, a picture of Maria standing outside the SWORD office smiling huge next to an older man in uniform, and a picture of Maria with her brother which must’ve been years old because Maria looked like she was in middle school maybe, making Carol reminisce about the girl she used to know. On the right side of the desk sat two pictures that didn’t face in all the way like the other two, as if they were put there intentionally but also intentionally not looked at as much. One, in a light purple frame, was Maria’s mother. Carol had never met the woman but had seen her face many times growing up in Maria’s father’s house. It was the same then, almost like the woman must have put the pictures of herself up and they didn’t have the heart to take them down, but they tried their best not to look. Next to that sat a framed picture of Carol and Maria smiling at the local bar they used to go to, their uniforms half undone and Carol’s hair out of regs with her aviators pushed back and a red bandana around her head. She remembers the bar more now, Pancho’s. She had been there with Fury and it jogged a lot of things for her, but she so badly wants to remember that day specifically. She runs her fingers close to it, but doesn’t dare to touch. She tries to remember the song they would sing together, all the lyrics. She can’t but she remembers how it felt to jump around for hours and then walk home, too drunk most times, bumping into each other and letting touches and looks linger a little too long, and then having to get up early the next day. She remembers that they would take turns walking each other to their barracks, sometimes daring to sleep in each other's rooms when they thought they might not get caught, always leaving one of them to sneak out in the morning. Carol laughs, thinking about how Maria was right last night, and how she was always better at leaving quietly than Carol.

When her eyes refocus on the photo, she can’t help but wonder how many times Maria had flipped the frame over, hiding the memory from herself. She wonders, just for a moment, if she would’ve been able to live through the grief she put her through. She would never know just how bad it was for Maria, she would never be able to see from her eyes what the woman went through or how she pulled herself out of bed every day and raised a child by herself, kept working, started SWORD. She wondered if Maria ever went back to that bar, or if she ever listened to the song again. She would never know how the woman truly felt in those years or what she did to keep herself busy, and she didn’t think she’d ever feel right asking. She wanted to think about the past few months, after everything. She wanted to think about how it must be even worse, in a way, knowing that Carol was out there saving other people while Monica grew up and Maria trudged on with no choice. She wanted to think about it but couldn’t, knowing what would happen if she let her mind attach to the thoughts and feelings. She gazed at the photo again and turned away, deciding that maybe she didn’t need to remember everything right now.

She walked over to the box they had pulled out last night for her and started going through some clothes, looking for something to change into. She realized that while she was in space, her suit did all the work for her - she never had to worry about pulling an outfit together. It did the heating, drying, cooling, protecting her from any number of threats - all while containing her powers in a comfortable way for her. So as she sorted through her belongings, she was now also coming to the realization that it also had built in underwear. She only had two pairs of regular underwear to her name and she was wearing one of them. She frantically sifted through the big box to no avail. She questioned why she would only have two pairs of underwear, rather than all of her undergarments or none of them at all. She guessed that the Air Force had something to do with it, remembering that they had packed everything up for Maria to come pick up instead of letting her do it. She cursed them under her breath, mad that once again Maria had something taken from her, deciding that she had no option but to wear the pair of boxer briefs she had found and figure it out later. She grabbed the boxers, an old band tee shirt and a pair of jeans and headed for the bathroom.

When she walks in the bathroom, she can hear Monica’s cartoons from the living room.

“I’m gonna bathe myself, Lt. Trouble! Come get me if you need anything, okay?”

She yells down. She waited to hear Monica’s response and when she didn’t she paused completely, silencing herself and the air around her, cartoons still playing. She could feel her heartbeat pick up its pace.

“Mon? Did you hear me?”

She shouts again, a bit louder, trying not to let on to her anxiety.

“Okay Mom!”

Monica yells back, mind focused on her shows. Carol exhaled deeply, relief flowing through her body. She chuckled at mom, gratitude buzzing through her whole body. She was still a mom to Monica and that meant more to her than she could ever explain. She added “go to therapy” on her mental to do list and started stripping.

Once all the layers were off, she chucked her socks in the pile she had made and stepped into the deep tub, pulling a purple shower cap over her hair and bending down to turn on the shower. She pulled the stop up before balancing out the water and heard the water make its way up the long pipe to the shower head slowly as she pulled the curtain closed around her. She immediately screeched, feeling freezing water run over her body. She had forgotten that Maria took cold showers in the morning to wake her up. She scrambled, trying to avoid as much of the frigid water as possible while she flipped up the hot water handle with her toes, jumping up and down, somehow not slipping. As the water began to warm and steam up, she found herself laughing. Out loud. She couldn’t stop. Captain Marvel was giggling like a child (Once again proving Maria right). She slid down and sat on her butt, pulling her knees into her chest and let the water run over her back. She eased into the warm feeling, still feeling laughter bubble up inside of her. She closed her eyes and remembered the last time she felt the shock of cold water all over her.

It was late, or maybe early. Carol felt herself getting tired, but she wanted to keep dancing. She wanted to keep singing. She wanted to keep seeing Maria, feeling her brush up against her while they danced and twirled in sloppy, drunken harmony, singing poorly to whatever song was playing. She didn’t want to go to work tomorrow just to test planes she would never get to fly outside of base. She didn’t want to sleep in her own bed, unless Maria was in it. She just wanted to keep living in this moment for as long as she could. She looked over at her equally drunk copart, dancing freely with her eyes closed. Maria rarely let loose like this, but when she did it was beautiful. She commanded the room, everyone tuning into her wavelength, feeling her all around them. She made everything beautiful, and when she was carefree, it was like no one on earth had a care in the world either.

Maria opened her eyes to see Carol looking at her and she smiled that toothy grin she had, making the heat from Carol’s chest rise to her face. She smiled back, pushing herself closer to the woman through the people dancing around them. The dark liquor they had both been drinking was coursing through them and burning off with every move, sending sparks through both of their bodies while they watched each other bop to the music. Carol made her way over and laughed, making some comment about how only they could make old white men’s music sound this good. Maria giggled in agreeance, grabbing Carol’s hand and twirling her around. She was tired too, but she was happy to have a break. They had both been working their asses off and both felt the same frustration with the position they were seemingly stuck in. They were making their way up in rank, one then the other, every time. But two facts always remained. They were both Black Women. So the Air Force didn’t give them much reign, despite the fact that they were statistically and literally the two best pilots the Air Force had ever seen and a lot of people knew it. Despite all their talent and gusto, they did their diligence day in and day out. So, when they got the chance to be free from the monotony, they took it, hand in hand, happily.

As Carol spun back into the woman’s arms with a heaving laugh, they both smiled at each other widely. Maria couldn’t look away, she felt stuck as her eyes moved down from her friend’s eyes to her lips. Carol surprised her by grabbing her other arm and spinning her just how she had done, and pulling her in with a dramatic dip. Everyone around them cheered, drunk too. They laughed with their bellies, feeling the song in their chests. Carol pulled Maria up slow, just as the exciting song ended. The next song started and it was slower, and most people around them coupled up, only some seeming annoyed as they made their way off the dance floor and back to the bar and stools. The two women looked around them, then at each other. They both shrugged with a small laugh, and Carol pulled Maria in to dance. She made some joke about being proper while she found her hands at Maria’s lower back, making the woman laugh as she made herself comfortable around Carol’s neck and shoulders. They laid their chins on eachother and swayed, letting the joke of it all dissipate into the air. It was moments like this that they relished in, secretly. Every now and then, they’d allow themselves a second to breathe each other in. Usually when they were drunk and their inhibitions were low. For both of them, it felt like everything melted away. Just like when they were younger and neither had been asked to the school dance, so they took each other. They shared one slow dance that night, making the excuse that it was tradition and neither should miss out on their first slow dance. They had wanted to dance together at prom, but they had both regrettably had dates for once. Maria had been asked by a boy from her science class, he played on the basketball team and told her she was pretty AND smart (wow, how romantic, Carol thought when she heard the story).

Carol hadn’t been asked but when she found out Maria said yes after being pressured by her father and not hearing Carol make a strong argument against it, Carol forced some kid from one of her classes to come with her. All four had danced that night, split into the ‘correct’ gendered pairs. Carol couldn’t keep her eyes off her bestfriend, and the feeling was mutual. During the final slow dance, they were all on the floor swaying in and out of rhythm with the song playing. Carol and Maria locked eyes and didn’t unlock them until the song was over. They had danced again during their first military ball, quietly in the back behind a pillar where no one could see them. It was unspoken but well understood. They didn’t talk about it after, they just went about their business. They always did. And they would again after tonight, carrying on like time didn’t stop when they touched like this. As the music played, Carol’s hand rubbed Maria’s back absent mindedly, while Maria rubbed small circles against Carol’s neck as they swayed, both in and out of daydreaming, both drunk and leaning a little too heavily on eachother. They both fought the urge to look up at each other, so they let their heavy heads rest on each other as they danced, feet in perfect timing with eachothers. This is what friends do, right? They were so comfortable with each other, it wasn’t weird to slow dance. Right? They almost stopped moving entirely, leaving just a small rocking between them as the music played through them, syncing their breaths. You feel so good, they both thought at the same time, almost forgetting that their freedom in this moment was due to the cognac surging through them.

When time started again and the song stopped, an upbeat one replacing it, they both lingered for a moment longer trying to hold onto the comfort they felt, and trying to collect their drunk selves. Over the sound of the music, the bartender announced last call and they looked at each other with a mischievous smirk.

“Last one to the bar pays for the shots!” They said in unison, falling gracefully back into their routine. They ran over, both making it there at the same time, so as always they paid for each other’s shots and continued jamming to the music and letting the ambiance of the bar carry them through the rest of the night. Everyone knew everyone, so they felt safe, which was nice. As they finished their last two shots each, they both felt the drunkenness take its strong hold on them and they decided this would be their last song. They grabbed the karaoke mics that no one else wanted and belted at the top of their lungs, horribly but everyone loved it. They jumped up and down, bursting at the seams with laughter and lyrics, dancing with whoever danced with them. Once the song ended, they grabbed each other’s hands and ran for the coat rack, bounding forward despite their lack of balance.

Pulling on their jackets, they stepped outside into the cooler air and took it in. Carol checked her watch and was astonished to see the time, despite the fact they everyone knew last call at Pancho’s meant it was 2am and the bar would be closing at 2:30. She looked over at Maria who was staring up at the sky.

“What’re you look-”

“Shh! Make a wish! Right now before you miss it!”

Maria rushed Carol, keeping her eyes closed and her hands clasped together like she was praying, maybe even begging. Carol smiled, knowing the shooting star that must’ve passed was already gone, but she chose to believe the energy would linger for Maria and her. She closed her eyes and spent no time trying to figure out what to wish for. She knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed. They both did. Carol kept her eyes closed after she was done, letting her body relax and fully feeling the disorientation of her drunkenness. She felt woozy, almost nauseous. Maria stared at her while her eyes were shut, allowing her body to relax at the sight. She felt her body move for her, without permission. She grabbed Carol’s hand, shocking the woman’s eyes open and started running without any explanation.

“What are you doing Rambeau? Where are we going?”

Carol asked, confused, dizzy and feeling a familiar spike of excitement rise in her. Maria was even more daring and much less prudent when she was intoxicated. She was taking her on an adventure and she was ready to go. She would follow the woman anywhere, drunk or not.

“You’ll see. Don’t you trust me, Danvers?”

Maria called behind her, laughing and out of breath the whole time but never stopping. Carol didn’t need to answer, they both knew the answer. They kept up laughing, thankful for all the PT they’d been forced to do by the United States military. They ran down quiet streets for a few minutes, until they made it to a dirt path with a bunch of trees, leading them off the main road. Maria looked back at Carol with an excited and sly smile. Carol pulled her hand back and made her face her.

“You’re not trying to serial killer me, right? Where are you taking me?”

She laughed, but meant the question.

“C’monnn.” Maria tugged, wanting to live in the moment while she could.

“Don’t you trust me?”

She asked again, looking in Carol’s eyes with a glint, but soft. Penetrating, Carol thought to herself. She knew she couldn’t say no, she never could. So, she smiled and signaled for Maria to keep taking her wherever she was.

“Lead the way.”

This made Maria smile excitedly, adding an extra skip in her step. They weren’t running this time but they were walking fast, Maria jumping around Carol who felt like she was in a movie or a trance, eyes never leaving Maria’s dancing body as they made their way down the dark path, leaving her feet to trust whatever path Maria made for her. Maria saw a clearing in the trees ahead of them and she started running again, creating too much space for Carol’s comfort. She snapped out of her trance and ran after the faster woman, feeling anxiety and frustration rise in her for a moment.

“What the hell, Rambeau? It’s dark out here! You can’t just run o-” Carol started while she wiped the sweat and dust off her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw Maria standing at the edge of a lake surrounded by thick brown sand and trees. Maria waved her over and the frustration fled Carol’s body faster than it arrived. She jogged up to Maria who was already undressing, making Carol choke when she saw glimpses of Maria’s dark skin that she didn’t usually see. I mean, sure, they’d seen eachother in bathing suits and naked before, when they were kids, but it had been a while. A long while. Carol had to force her mouth shut before Maria could see it hanging open.

“Cmon, hurry up! We gotta jump in before my better judgement takes over!”

Maria rushed as she pulled off her socks and yanked her pants the rest of the way down, pulling them over her ankles. Carol was still frozen watching her.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared Danvers? Cmon! It’ll help with the drunkenness and it’ll be a story to tell our kids!”

Maria exclaimed, pulling her shirt over her head. All the was left was her bra and perfect light purple underwear. Carol snapped out of it and laughed.

“HA! What the hell are you doing? Don’t tell me you’re about to-”

“Skinny dip? Yes the hell I am. And so are you. Hurry up!”

Maria finished her sentence as she grabbed her hand, pulling her over and pulling the bandana off her head and tossing it with her own clothes she had made a pile of. She started pulling at Carols shirt sleeves until Carol brushed her away, laughing but really just unable to let Maria help undress her. She was suddenly feeling very shy but as always, Maria was going to get what she wanted from Carol because that’s what Carol wanted. Maria looked at her with that So, are you gonna do it or not? look that Carol was usually giving her and waited for Carol’s face to break into a smile she couldn’t help.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this with you. Don’t cry to me when you regret it tomorrow and have to blow your hair out in the morning!”

Carol said as she pulled her shirt over her head and exposed her own body, one that Maria wasn’t sure how to fully take in either as she fought back a smile at Carol’s comment. She thought about the last time she’d seen Carol completely naked, or at least as naked as she almost was standing there. They used to get dressed in front of each other all the time and they’d been in matching bathing suits a bunch of times growing up but it had been a while, since they weren’t rooming together in the barracks. She forced her stare away while Carol undid her pants and slid out of them, leaving only her boy shorts, a bra and socks. She kicked her socks off to match as Maria finished pulling the rest of her underwear off, and by the time they both turned around, they were stark naked in the middle of nowhere, right in front of each other.

The silence sat for a moment before they both laughed, the tension easing away like it always did. Maria grabbed Carol’s hand and ran for the water, looking back only to ask You ready? as her feet made their way into the moist sand, inching towards the cold water. Carol shot back As I’ll ever be before making her way in too. They both plunged forward, swimming out a bit but not too far. They both shot under the water and looked at eachother, grabbing hands again before popping back up. The water rolled off of them as they broke through the surface, blinking it from their eyes and feeling their hair. They laughed loudly, finding their bearings in the freezing water.

“Holy shit!” Carol swore, bobbing a bit as she figured out how to float again. Still laughing.

“More like Holy FUUUCK!” Maria shouted out with a laugh in her voice, lifting it into the trees around them. She couldn’t stop laughing, and she couldn’t stop shivering. Carol looked at her as she held her free hand that she was using to balance herself with as she floated out to Maria who happily took it in hopes it would help stabilize her as well.

“You’re a god damn maverick, Rambeau!” Carol laughed as she spun Maria around, swimming in circles trying to keep her blood pumping to warm them both up. Maria swam gracefully, still holding onto Carol’s hand. She was laughing but she was also quieter now. Carol questioned if it was the cold or if it was whatever made her jump into a freezing lake anyway. She pulled her back in and held her hand tight as she pulled her onto her back, pressing her front to her back and taking deep breaths trying to stay warm while still enjoying the fluidity of movement the water provided. They both felt like they were flying, finally.

“What’s going on in your head?” Carol asked as she swam in different directions for a little bit, back and forth as Maria clung to her back, clearly the drunker of the two now. The shock of the water had helped to sober them both up but Carol always had a higher tolerance to alcohol as it was. She was still drunk but not as drunk as her bestfriend, whos head was resting on top of Carol’s wet curls. She knew the humidity and however she planned to get sleep that night wouldn’t help with her process in the morning.

“I just want to fly. I just wanna feel free, you know?” Maria started, not exactly slurring her words but they weren’t as uniform with her natural cadence as they usually were. Carol nodded slightly with a Mhm to assure Maria that she was listening.

“I just… I just wish we could do whatever we wanted to do. I’m so tired of living by the same rules every day. I wish I could just fly into space and stay there, sometimes, you know?” Carol smiled at the thought of Maria being able to fly how she was meant to. High up, above the clouds. Away from everyone and everything that constantly tried to tie her feet to the ground. She did know, she felt the same way about herself.

“You’d leave me here on earth to deal with these bastards?” Carol asked, joking but also not. Maria half laughed, half hiccuped at the thought.

“Wherever I am, you are too. That’s how it’s always going to be, Danver’s. I fly, you fly. You fly, I fly. That’s never gonna change.” Maria said, meaning it. She was always more emotionally open when she was drunk and Carol almost felt bad listening to her, knowing she wouldn’t normally open up like this - especially naked, freezing, clinging to her best friends back with all her might and drunk in a lake they had no business being in. But she couldn’t help but revel in what the woman was saying. She felt the same.

“I know. I know. Come on, lets go home.” Maria wanted to put up a fight but she was shivering and suddenly very sleepy, so she let Carol swim them to shore. When they got out the water, the warm air offered some support in their drunken attempts to pull on their clothing over wet and suddenly sand covered bodies. They weren’t sure if they were putting on the right things but they knew it was covering their important parts and that’s what matters.

“Can we stay at look at the stars for a little bit?” Maria asked, even though she was the one in charge, whether she knew it or not. Carol knew it. She nodded, knowing it wasn’t a good idea but one she couldn’t deny the soft woman in front of her. She spread their jackets out on the beach for them to lay down and they both did just that, scotting their bodies close to each other instinctively. They peered up at the stars above them, seeing them clearly in the huge circle the trees made. It was perfect, they both thought. Some moments went by before Carol asked a question.

“What did you wish for earlier?”

“Shh. I can’t tell or it won't come true. It was something I’ve always wanted, so it has to come true.” She explained, sleep and bourbon clouding her voice.

“Mine too.” Carol whispered, her own eyes growing heavy. They held hands and both thought that the other woman must’ve wished for them to finally be able to do their jobs the right way, to be able to fly for real. Little did they both know they were wishing for the same thing. Each other.

They laid there, staring at the stars until they weren’t. Sleep came easy for them that night, as odd as it was. It got odder when they woke up, facing each other with only a nose length between their faces, feeling the warm sting of the sun in their eyes. They looked at eachother and started laughing until they heard the familiar sound of security keys dangling and a radio in the nearing distance. They knew it had to be the wannabe cops that patrolled the area and they knew it was their time to get the hell out of there. They ran back down the same path and back onto the main road until they made it to Pancho’s. They slowed to a casual pace after that, trying not to draw attention to themselves even though they had sand all over and their hair was nowhere near what it looked like the previous night. They walked, quietly, but happily together back to the barracks and passed out in Maria’s room. She wanted the comfort of her own space to ease through her impending hangover, but she needed the comfort of Carol’s arms too. Carol put up no fight, trying not to be too obvious that she wanted to be there too. Though she’d never tell, Maria positioned herself perfectly to be held and went right to sleep.

Carol stayed up until she fell asleep like she always did, making sure she was on her side in case she threw up or needed water. She watched as Maria slept, looking like she was floating again. She was so beautiful and Carol was so tired. She laid down and held the woman, her arms perfectly fitting into the space that was left, like it was made for her. They slept most of the day away and when Carol woke up, she set medicine next to Maria’s bed and snuck out, quieter than normal. She thought about what Maria had said when she was in the water as she walked back to her room to take care of her own hangover and messed up fro’. She promised herself that day that no matter where she flew, she would make sure Maria would be there too. Behind that promise, she knew that she would follow Maria to the end of the earth, even the end of the universe without a second thought. She tried to shake some self respect back into her own dreams, smiling despite herself and went to sleep. She dreamed of Maria, because Maria was her dream.

Carol’s day dreaming was interrupted by a cold surge through the shower head again, and the sound of the downstairs sink running before being cut off. Her super hearing alerted her to the sound of Monica filling a cup and going to sit back down. She buzzed under the cold water before it eased back into the warmth she had set for herself. She felt more fond of the cold now. She stood back up and washed her body, letting the water run over her face. The soap smelled like both Monica and Maria and she felt comfort knowing she would smell like them now, too. She finished up and got out, drying herself with her powers instead of making more laundry for herself with the towels she had been looking at the night before. She grabbed her clothes and located her underwear and bra from the pile.

When she grabbed the pair of boxers, she looked at the inside hem and saw “DANVERS” written in smudged black sharpie on the white tag. She laughed with an edge of old frustration, remembering how she had to do that because people kept stealing her underwear in the laundry room as a prank because her and Maria had ranked up before a few of the other men in their unit. Maria’s clothes never got stolen, but they didn’t refrain from trying to get to her in other ways. None of which she ever humored, but Carol knew it got to her a few times. Some of the guys had called them ‘lesbos’ a few times, and eventually it evolved into the d slur. Both pilots always had different comebacks that consistently left the immature weasels with little to say back. Carol knew both of those words well having heard them most of her life, and she had taught herself not to internalize it.

Maria, on the other hand, let the first one roll off her for the most part - but the second one sometimes picked at scabs she had long covered up. Scabs she wasn’t ready to look at yet. They both decided not to report the harassment because it would probably end up worse if they did, and eventually it died down. They both continued to rise in ranks slowly but surely, and finally Mar-Vell came and they felt some reprieve from the monotony they were used to. Carol shivered at the thought of what came after that, though.

She slid the rest of her clothes on and walked back into the bedroom. She put her dirty clothes in the laundry basket next to the closet for her to do later, and walked back over to the box of her things. She’d seen a bunch of stuff Monica had shown her the first time she came home, but she wanted to know what was in the other boxes Maria had kept. She went through the bottom of the box that had her clothes in it not finding anything she hadn’t already seen, and then pulled open the other one they had left out. She presumed this is one Maria hadn’t shown Monica as it had light dust on it when she opened it.

She sifted through, halfway hoping to find another pair of underwear, but instead she found a bunch of papers and trinkets. Some necklaces and a silver chain bracelet, wristbands from carnivals and bars they had been to together, a pair of dice from a board game they had stolen from a store one time when they were younger and had kept as they grew up. She ran her hands over everything, trying to take in as much of her former self as she could like she always did when she had the chance. She fumbled at the bottom of the box and pulled out a bunch of papers, some folded, some grocery lists with toiletries and snacks crossed off here and there, some half done crossword puzzles that Carol was never good at, and a few opened envelopes. She sat the rest down and looked over each envelope with care.

Some had cards in them, birthday and christmas cards, one from valentines day. All of them had silly characters or jokes on the front. They had made a good habit of buying each other cheesy cards for every holiday they could think of, Carol strained to remember as she read through them. She rubbed her finger over Maria’s perfect signature, wondering if she kept the ones Carol had gotten her, too. She filed through the papers curiously, flipping through piece after piece of paper that held a small snapshot of moments in her life. Mundane, ordinary moments. She cherished them, and she was grateful to both Maria for keeping them and herself for never being organized and keeping all this stuff that most people would’ve eventually thrown away or allowed themselves to misplace over time. Her eyes fixed on a thicker envelope. She grabbed it, reading the red script labeled across the front.

To: Danvers

From: Rambeau ♡

Carol smiled at the little heart Maria had drawn next to her last name. She opened the letter, finding another heart on the back of the envelope where it was once sealed. Carol reads over the letter, feeling emotion and memory rise up in her chest, spreading through her whole body. The letter is dated, of course because Maria is ever punctual. It was from when they had been stationed at two separate bases for the first few months. It was agony for both of them, being in two separate states. Carol had sent Maria a letter when she first arrived, thinking she would be the first one to write. She was shocked, however, to find a letter waiting for her when she arrived at the post office on base. She had opened it the second she got back to her barracks room. It was an envelope inside an envelope, the outer one having had their full names and ranks and official military postage, the second one having the cute little hearts Maria drew perfectly when she wrote. Again, she was softer than most people expected her to be.

The letter expressed pretty much exactly what Carol had in hers, which came to no surprise to either of them when they both read what the other had sent. They were always on the same wavelength. They both had so much more they needed to say, but they were so grateful to hold something physical that the other had taken time to write for the other. Maria asked how Carol was doing, explained what had been going on with her, and complained about the men on base per usual. Just as if they were together in person.

As Carol read through it, she laughed, probably how she had the first time, at a lot of the letter. Towards the end though, she felt a tight ball of heat sitting in her chest restricting her breathing. She almost couldn’t read through what was left of the letter. Was she embarrassed?

“Anyways, I hope you’re still kicking ass. I KNOW you are, that always came easy to you.

I hope we can call soon, hopefully without being interrupted by the other idiots needing to use the phone every single time you do. I can’t believe there's only four on your base and only two that actually work (what happened to ‘The Air Force’s finest?’). You’d think with all the money the military has.. You know. I know it’s hard for both of us to find the time right now but I just really miss you, Carol. I miss shitty karaoke a lot, I can’t do it with these clowns here without you. Friday nights just aren’t the same haha. I miss renting the same movies every weekend and staying up all night eating too much. I even watched Fame the other day without you. I still hate it but it was nice, I just wish you were here to act out all the scenes. And I’ll deny it if you ever tell anybody, but I even miss your shitty cooking (burn this after reading), and not just because it makes it easier for me to be the better cook, but just because it’s you. I never used to hate writing letters but I do now, because it reminds me how far they have to travel to get to you. I hate that we’re not together, we’ve always been together. And as much as I act like I know what I’m doing, sometimes I feel lost without you here. And I know we’ve been pretending everything is the same but it isn’t, at least not for me. I wish we had more time to talk before you left. I wish we had more time in general. Damn the Air Force. Regardless, I just want you to know that I love you. And I’m so proud of you. I always am.

It’ll all be better soon. I believe that, just like you always do. We’ll be up in the air in no time. I’ll meet you up there. I’ll be the one whipping by you. Catch up if you can.

Take good care of yourself, because I’m not there to do it for you.

You’re the best damn pilot in the Air Force (second only to me, of course), and don’t let anyone convince you otherwise! Call me when you get the chance. And hurry up and write back!

Always,

Rambeau.

Ps. Things wont always be this way. Don’t forget that. And don’t forget that round of shots you owe me, either, goofball.”

Carol felt the heat of a blush running to her cheeks. She was thankful for her dark complexion hiding it, although no one was there to see her anyways. Why did she feel so giddy, and also… embarrassed? She felt like she was reading someone’s diary, even though the letter was clearly addressed to her and she had already read it. Years ago. She scanned over the text again, regarding Maria’s perfect handwriting. She felt like she was reading a love letter. Maybe it was, but she was too anxious to entertain the thought too much. She wasn’t exactly sure what that would mean, and she wasn’t sure if this year's old letter still even meant anything other than friendship.

Maria had been tight lipped about a lot of stuff, even though she pretended like she wasn’t. Her and Monica always answered Carol’s questions openly, happily for the most part unless it was about the ‘missing period’. They all tried to avoid that subject now, as time had gone by, but they all also knew that it would come up naturally sometimes and it couldn’t be left unanswered all the time. Aside from that, to the untrained eye, it seemed like Maria was willing to give up any bit of information that would help get them all back to how they used to be or at least help figure out what life looked like moving forward. But Carol knew better, she had a very well trained eye for Maria Rambeau, it was second nature for her - with or without the gaps in her memory. There had been a few moments, just brief enough to almost miss, since Carol came back the first time with Fury and even more recently on some of her visits, when the unshakeable Maria had gotten flustered or nervous, where the heat currently in Carol’s cheeks had been in hers. When her heart threatened to beat so hard it would leap from her chest. Granted, she hid it well but again, Carol could always see through her. She seldom was at a loss for words or made quick, messy cover ups in conversation. Usually the people around them didn’t even notice. Monica didn’t even catch it, or at least didn’t acknowledge it. It happened once or twice when Carol and Maria were alone, too. Carol knew things like that only happened when Maria felt unsure, or when she really didn’t want to talk about something. Anyone who had ever met Maria knew she was as straightforward as they come, so that’s what made Carol pay extra attention when she was avoiding something.

The thoughts of romance danced around Carol’s brain tauntingly, aching for her to pull them forward and examine them. But knowing how Maria was, and knowing that she only got that way when she was purposefully avoiding something, Carol settled on a quiet feeling of rejection instead - against her better judgment. She let it swell through her, enflaming the previous feelings of embarrassment right along with it. She put the letter away, resigning that she should just be thankful to have a friend who cares for her so much and that she wouldn’t allow herself to think anything else. She did this often, rejected herself before other people could to avoid the stinging feeling of embarrassment or disappointment her parents and the people she grew up with often supplied her with.

Maria never made her feel that way, and maybe that's why she would accept this quiet, self imposed feeling now instead of facing it in person with the other woman. She couldn’t risk ruining something she had just gotten back, anyways. Right? Right, she forced herself to agree in her head. She decided to go find Monica and clear her head of the letter. As she walked out, she glanced at the picture of Maria and the child again and sighed softly, letting a small smile of gratitude cover her face. This could be enough for her, if she would let it be.

Monia was sitting on the couch still, no longer paying any mind to the tv playing in the background. She was eagerly reading through the huge phone book they usually had sitting on the coffee table, bracing it against her bended knees as she flipped through the yellow pages quickly.

“What’re you looking for, Lt. Trouble?”

“Someone who sells the parts I need for my next invention! What letter do you think that would be under?”

Carol laughs, deciding to humor the girl.

“Hmm, you know I’m not sure. Have you tried under sales? Or maybe…a junkyard?”

“I could try the junkyard! I didn’t try that yet!”

“Maybe I can get you a hook up from Fury, orrrr maybe your mom knows someone at her job? What’re you even looking for?”

“I already asked her last week! She said she would check but I think she was just saying that. Here’s my list.”

Monica handed Carol a surprisingly long list, with a few things checked off that Carol assumed were already laying around the house. She wondered if Maria knew that these things had been checked off, which gave her a good chuckle. She set the list down and turned to Monica.

“Okay, I think I can get you some of these but the bigger things are definitely gonna need some work. Maybe we can roll down to the junkyard this week?”

“YES! And no take-backsies!”

“Wouldn’t dare. How about you come help me handle the laundry and dishes and then we can head outside?”

“Deal. I think you might need help figuring out the detergent set up Ma’ has anyways. She’s very particular.”

Monica explains, leaping up into action and grabbing Carol’s hand to pull her along.

Monica was right, Maria had a very elaborate and strict laundry system. The two of them likely didn’t get it exactly right but they did their best to pay attention to details neither of them really cared about but knew Maria did, wanting not only to please and respect Maria, but also wanting to avoid what she would have to say about it if they got it wrong or chose to ignore it. Carol tried to use her powered speed and agility to help make the process move quicker, but it only hindered the experience. She noted that the chance to move slowly and be mindful was probably why Maria seemed to enjoy the routine of laundry and such. It probably helped calm her down and help her be present after long days working to protect the whole world, while still having to be a full time mom to a rather rambunctious child, on top of whatever anxiety Carol added throughout her week. She smiled and decided to try and match the attentiveness. Her and Monica spent a while switching between loading and unloading, doing the dishes left over from dinner last night and breakfast - eventually returning to sort and fold the clean clothes and linens. It smelled lovely in the laundry room, reminding both of them of Maria. It comforted them in a way only she could.

Once they finished with the inside chores, they decided to mix and match to-do lists. Monica needed to catch some frogs just as much as Carol needed to mow the lawn, she insisted. Carol agreed to help her catch some frogs if she would agree to help her patch up some of the paint that Maria had been avoiding doing. They shook on it, running off into the field that would be mowed down later in the day. They went at it excitedly, jumping around in the tall grass and dirt, painting not so gracefully and splattering white paint on each other by “accident”.

By the time they finished the side of the house and Monica had caught, released and named at least eight frogs that she swore were all different despite being nearly identical, they had both created more laundry to do and were both definitely in need of a bath but neither minded in the slightest. Even once they were done, they chased each other around tirelessly until Monica was hiccupping and giggling at the same time. Carol marveled at Monica’s intrinsic wonder and love at the world around her. In her Hero heart, watching it solidified her sense of duty to protect the galaxy, making sure nothing and no one could ever bring harm to the world her daughter so loved. But in her Carol heart, it made her giddy too. Almost envious in a way. She missed the days when she could roll around in a yard and only worry about trying not to crush too many bugs. Now she had to worry about whether someone was going to crush a planet or not. She often longed for a childhood she never really had, and sometimes even the one she did have when she could piece it together. She knew it wasn’t a good one, but she had Maria. She just had Maria. And now Monica does too, and god was she glad about it.

Carol picked the younger girl up and flew her to the front porch in a flash, something Maria would swear she didn’t approve of as she fought back her own giggles. Monica shouted with pure glee as her feet landed back on the wood she knew well. They zipped in the house and ran to the kitchen, ready for lunch. Monica decided she would handle making it, promising Carol the best turkey and cheese sandwich she would ever have. Or at least better than she could make herself.

“Mayo or mustard Mama?”

Carol beamed a grin across her face, feeling a familiar hot blush swipe across her at the word mama but she tried to play it cool.

“I want whatever you’re having, Trouble!”

Carol responded happily, only after registering the fact that she hated mustard and hoped that Monica did too. She watched as the girl ran through the kitchen, leaving a small mess across different surfaces. She whipped up the two sandwiches like she did it very often, and sat two plates down in front of Carol with a big toothy smile.

“Wa-La! The Trouble special!”

She exclaimed, nudging the sandwich to Carol and taking a big bite out of her own, leaving a smudge of mayo on the inner side of her finger. Thank god, Carol laughed to herself. Before she could remind the girl to make sure she cleaned up, Monica was already stacking up her ingredients and propping open the fridge with her foot. This made the woman smile, knowing she had probably heard one too many times from Maria about cleaning up after herself.

“Take a bite!” Monica mumbled, chewing down another bite herself and gesturing to Carol with her hands. Carol bit into the sandwich and began mimicking the fancy chefs they would watch on tv together.

“Mmm! Magnificent work yet again, Chef Rambeau!”

Monica smiled before straightening her face and standing up straight before taking a bow, nearly dropping her own sandwich. They both laughed and enjoyed their sandwiches, Carol deciding to sneak Monica a coke in thanks for making the best sandwich she’d ever had, saying "this ones on me” and promising to tell Maria she drank them if she asks. Once they both finished and decided that Monica won the burping contest, they decided to tackle the lawn and climb the tree. Monica ran back outside like she had all the energy in the world, and Carol followed behind at a much slower pace as if she didn’t literally have all the energy in the world.

They took turns pushing the mower up and down the huge yard in different directions, trying to make different drawings with the pattern it created. Carol figured Maria wouldn’t mind much. Once they finished, both sweating under the direct heat of the sun, they were both happy to have some reprieve when they made their way over to the trees. Carol laid down in the grass underneath the biggest tree, grateful for the shade it provided.

She breathed deep, taking in the soft wind that was blowing. It wasn’t as humid as she had expected, another thing she was grateful for. Monica plopped herself next to her, pulling up her tee shirt sleeves to match Carol’s rolled up sleeves. She poked at the tan line appearing where the shirt sat for most of the day. Carol pointed to her own, kind of happy to have a tan to her brown skin again. She spent a lot of time in her suit, so it always felt nice to have regular clothes on. She thought about how the sun on earth felt so different than on other planets, who all had different sources of heat and light. She looked over at Monica, who was now laying down too, watching a lady bug crawl through her hands. She was brighter than the sun, Carol thought, before she pushed her sunglasses up her forehead to tangle in her fro’ again.

“So, you’re gonna conquer the big one today, huh?”

“Absolutely. Mom always gets nervous so she told me to wait until you came home again. The whole super power thing and stuff.”

Monica rolled her eyes and continued looking at the lady bug with curiosity.

“Well, she kinda has a point kiddo. Let’s do it.”

Monica jumped to her feet, pausing only to gently place the lady back in the grass and hopped over to the foot of the tree. She walked around it, looking for the perfect place to start. She found her footing and called Carol over to spot her from behind.

“Alright, pay attention and be careful. Let me know if you get stuck, okay?”

“Gotcha gotcha. If I get stuck, will you fly up to me?”

Monica asked while climbing up the first couple inches, hoisting herself up to find a sturdy hand hold between two branches and bracing her legs against either side.

“We’ll see.”

Carol watched intently, squinting her eyes against the sun and smiling with her teeth, hands ready to catch Monica. The girl climbed up a few feet and held on tight.

“So, this is how far I got last time with Mom. I just have to streeetchhhhh over to the next branch.”

“You got this, just pretend your arms are made of elastic and reach.”

Monica tried a few times to stretch over with no success, before deciding to just leap as far as she could to connect her hands. Carol’s heart nearly jumped out her chest, not even realizing her own feet had ended up off the ground, floating next to the girl who had successfully made the jump. She smiled at her mom, ignoring the small scratches on her forearms that were starting to bleed just a little bit.

“Jesu- Good job, Trouble! Just maybe tell me next time?”

“We’ll see.”

Monica shot back with that same toothy grin her mother has. She made her way up the rest of the tree and sat on the highest branch she felt comfortable with, kicking her feet with pride. Carol decided to climb the tree next, doing it with ease to meet Monica on the branch. She sat on the one next to it, as to not add too much weight.

“Why didn’t you just fly or float or something?”

“That would be cheating! Plus, I wanna be as cool as you are. I wish I had a camera so we could show your mom!”

“I’ll just have to do it again!”

“Sounds like a plan, kiddo.”

Carol laughed, squeezing Monica’s cheek just a bit before letting her climb on her shoulders to fly back down and head to the house to clean up.

After washing up, they decided to play some video games for a bit until it was time to start setting up for dinner. They had about two hours until Maria got home and they both wanted to at least be started on food when she arrived. Monica pulled out all her favorites and told Carol to pick which one to play first. They took turns picking after the first few rounds of operation, shutes and ladders, and jenga - all of which Monica won.

Carol insisted on playing something she had a fighting chance at, so they grabbed the deck of cards from the coffee table and played Go Fish. Carol won the first round, but Monica won the last three. Finally, admitting full defeat, Carol asked if they had anymore games. Monica grabbed two more from where they kept them, splaying them on the table. Carol’s eyes caught something familiar, pulling it to herself without a thought. She stared at the worn box and tried to remember. Monica watched, offering an explanation just as Carol was finding one of her own.

“Mom says she always used to beat you at this. She wouldn’t play it with me for a while but one day she brought it out after dinner and taught me. She beat me too the first two times, but I beat her after that. You wanna play?”

Carol wasn’t sure if she was biting back a smile, a laugh, or tears. She nodded and let Monica set the board up. Monica read the instructions out loud just in case Carol didn’t remember it, which Carol wasn’t sure if she did. She decided to just play and see what sticks. Monica handed her the light blue piece without asking, and Carol saw that it had her initials written on it. She watched as Monica sorted through the colors, passing over the purple one that had M.R written on it. She felt a tug in her heart as she watched Monica choose the red one that had a small, barely legible M.R on it too. She watched as Monica pulled out cards and then a set of white and black dice. Carol stood up abruptly, leaving Monica no time to question it.

“Hang on, there’s two pieces missing. I’ll go grab them.”

Carol ran upstairs almost embarrassingly fast and b-lined for the box she had looked through earlier. She grabbed the two colorful die she had left there earlier and headed back downstairs, feeling a mixture of excitement and belonging, along with a deeper, quieter sense of yearning.

Her and Monica played several rounds, Monica winning the first one until Carol remembered all her strategies from all the times she had beat Maria’s ass at the game. Carol agreed to another game, rolling the dice first since she lost the last round. She rolled doubles, and took her turn. While Monica was doing her lucky roll ritual of blowing on the dice and kissing her small hands, Carol felt herself slipping into a memory she had long displaced. She let herself remember slowly, recalling the reason the dice had even been separated from the game board in the first place.

“You take the board, I’ll take the dice. That way, we both have a piece, neither of us can play, and then no one else gets the chance to whoop your ass. That’s reserved for my talents.”

Carol laughed, but she was being serious. She was desperate to hold onto anything that could be just for them. Something she could carry in her pocket shamelessly, that no one would understand if they saw. They might think she had a gambling addiction or something, no one would suspect she was trying to hold onto any remnants she could of the woman she loved in her everyday life. She watched as Maria chuckled, probably formulating a sarcastic comeback, Carol assumed with a smirk. Maria never just accepted defeat, that's why they had played the game so many times.

“Sounds good to me, Danvers. I wouldn’t let anybody else win, anyway.”

Maria quipped back, knowing she never actually let the other woman win but she couldn’t resist making her think about the possibility. She, too, was happy to keep as many tangible reminders of what they had with her. They both had been fighting with themselves for their friendship to be enough, that having that ripped away from them sent them both reeling. She rubbed her finger over the ripped up pricing sticker on the back of the box waiting for Carol to respond.

“Yeah, OKAY. Like hell you let me win. No one loses that many times, THAT bad and is just letting-”

Maria wrapped her arms around the other woman, letting the box and a few pieces fall out on her bed. She held on tight and fought against sniffling. She wouldn’t let herself let it go. Let her go. She felt Carol choke on the words she didn’t get to finish and relax her body into the embrace. It was almost too relaxed. Neither wanted to admit they were fighting back tears that might never stop flowing if they let them start.

Carol didn’t mind being cut off, she was just finding words to string together anyway. There really wasn’t time for small talk but what else were they supposed to do? Leave it up to Maria to figure it out. To do the thing no one else would. To make the move everyone was afraid to - the one Carol was afraid too. Most people thought Carol was the fearless one just based off her usual demeanor and what people saw her do. Little did they know that she had never been more terrified than in this moment. Not knowing when they’d be able to play the game again. Not knowing when they would be able to touch like this again. Not knowing anything other than that they were afraid and loved each other so deeply.

They sat like that for longer than they both figured they should’ve, but neither felt any regret or shame in the moments as they piled up. They both ignored the awkward angle they were in, they both ignored the sounds outside the barracks room, they both ignored the clock as it ticked cruelly forward. They sank into each other, both laying their chins on the other's shoulder, letting the sides of their faces touch. It was close enough to look over and kiss. Neither dared to let the thought get too loud, choosing to let the contact be enough. It always had to be just enough, between them.

They didn’t say much after that, just small hums and sniffles here and there as they rocked slowly trying to find any sort of comfort they could. They laid down after a while, and before Maria could protest through her tears, Carol promised she would get up early enough to make it back to her room before the bus left the base. They laid there, quietly fighting sleep, wrapped as close together as they could be. Maria kept her face down and her forehead on Carol’s chest, Carol kept her arm under Maria’s neck and pulled her as close as she could with the other. Eventually she reached for Maria’s hand, this time it was her turn to do the thing that they both needed someone to do. Maria eventually cried herself to sleep, and Carol stayed up just rocking her softly until the sun came up.

When she stood up to leave, grabbing her bags and smoothing a hand over her braid, Maria turned over to take her in. She tried to glare at her, but it softened itself against her will into a sad smile.

“Don’t you dare leave without saying goodbye, Danvers.”

They both felt a warm tear or two tear itself across their cheeks. Carol tried her best to match the smile Maria was bravely offering her but it came off even weaker. She walked over and kissed the woman on the forehead before turning to leave, afraid that if she stayed even a minute longer she would never leave. Thoughts of going AWOL floated through her head for the billionth time since she had gotten her orders four days ago. She fought them off with as much strength as she could muster and took another step into the door frame.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She felt the glare of a rising sun sear into her eyes and she stepped through the threshold, choosing not to look back at the woman on the bed she had just left. Maria wondered if she would’ve looked back either, as she let herself curl into herself and let out the sobs she was fighting back before. She silenced them as best as she could and stayed that way until she had to get up, leaving her no choice but to pull herself together into something that resembled the woman she was just a few days before.

Carol stood outside the door, trying hard not to listen for Maria for a moment before forcing her feet forward. Step after step, more tears fell from her as she grit her teeth to fight back the screams sitting in her chest. She, too, had to be put together in the next few minutes and it seemed the most impossible task. It almost was.

“Ma’? It’s your turn.”

Carol shook her head, only then registering the wetness in her eyes. She picked up the dice and rolled them, trying to refocus on the game infront of her. She shouted when she rolled doubles again, meaning she got to go twice now.

“Looks like I still got it, afterall!”

“Yeah.. sure. Let’s ignore that I beat you all the other times.”

Monica laughed out, observing the change in her mother.

“I was just letting you win!”

Carol laughed, mostly to herself, as she moved the blue piece across the board.

“That’s what mom always says. I don’t believe her and I definitely don’t believe you!”

Monica shot back playfully. This made them both laugh, knowing it was true. Some things don’t change.

They kept playing a few turns until Monica finally decided to ask the question she had been formulating the whole game so far.

“What were you thinking about?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just now, after you took your first turn. It seemed like you weren’t really here for a little bit.”

Monica, just like her mother, ever to the point. Carol hesitated before choosing to just answer truthfully.

“Sometimes, when I’m home with you guys or even when I’m out there in space.. If I touch something, or smell something or someone says a certain somethin’... I remember stuff. Sometimes its just a quick second in my mind, sometimes its like flashbacks. I have a lot of rememberin’ to do, so sometimes I get stuck trying to see it clearly.”

Monica stared at the woman in front of her with understanding eyes. She waited a moment before responding.

“That makes sense, you know. I heard on TV that amnesia can make it take a while to get all your memories back.”

Carol shifted in her seat at the word amnesia, because it was so medical. She never actually did get checked out by a doctor on earth, trying to avoid a conversation about why she was super charged 24/7. She didn’t want to draw attention to her family but she had heard the word being tossed around by Fury and Maria a few times. She nodded at Monica, motioning for the girl to take her turn as they talked. Monica continued.

“Ya’know… I like when you remember stuff. Sometimes I get sad thinking you don’t know all the stuff I do. But then I just remember that it's still in there somewhere. There’s a lot of good stuff waiting for you.”

The girl smiled reassuringly, finishing her turn and deciding to pat Carol’s hand softly just like her mom does to her when she’s upset by something.

“You’re pretty smart, you know that?”

“Of course I know that. I’m actually a genius, but that’s all just semantics.”

“You got me there, kiddo.”

Carol said while rolling the dice again and moving her pieces. She might actually win this round.

“If you ever have any questions about stuff, you can just ask me. Mommy doesn’t always tell you or me everything, but I remember. Sometimes I think I know more than both of you combined.”

Monica smirked, looking over the board calculating precisely how to take Carol out now that she had her where she wanted her. She took her turn calmly, trying not to alert Carol to her master plan. Carol watched mindlessly as the girls piece glided across the board. Maybe she wouldn’t win this round, actually.

“That would be nice, Mon. Thanks. You can ask me stuff too. Also, just spare me and take me out now!”

Carol smirked back, knowing she would have to roll doubles again to beat the red piece.

“It’s no fun if you just give up!”

Carol decided to do Monica’s good luck trick this time, blowing on each die separately and then kissing her hands when she brought them together. She tossed them on the board aimlessly, trying not to focus on the numbers so she didn’t jinx it. They both watched as both die rolled a 3.

“No way!”

“Haha! Maybe your lucky trick does work!”

Carol laughed as she moved her piece past Monica’s and into the goal. Finally, a win. She stood up and did a goofy dance around the table like Monica had done before her when she was winning. They both started the giggles again, deciding it was probably time to start cleaning up and getting everything ready for dinner.

As they sorted through the cabinets together, Monica standing on the counter despite what her mother would say, Monica began telling Carol stories to see if she could help jog her memory since Carol hadn’t asked any questions yet. She ran through her baby years, her toddler years - especially her ‘troublesome two’s’ as Maria calls them, and everything up until when Carol went missing. They both chose not to talk about why there was such a gap in time. Carol listened quietly, laughing here and there when the story almost always resulted in some hilarious mishap on Carol and Monica’s part. Monica felt successful as she could see her mom piecing things together while they attempted to boil noodles and mix together pasta sauce on the stove. They both tried to keep it from getting messy, not wanting to add any stress to Maria’s plate when she got home.

Monica told as many stories as she could while Carol took them in happily, filing some away to focus on later when she could fully process them. They were all happy moments, usually funny. It was nice to know that life was good before the accident. Finally, when they started grating the cheese together, Monica decided she would ask some questions now since she had told so many stories. She had a lot she wanted to know too.

“Here, you do this one and I’ll do this one. Just be careful with the grater, it can get tricky towards the end.”

Carol motioned to Monica as she walked over to the table with a bowl to put the cheese in when they were done. Carol picked up some cheese and got to work, being mindful herself. Just because cuts healed up quickly for her didn’t mean they didn’t sting when she got them. She knew this well, especially being in a kitchen. Monica started grating too, trying to perfectly time her question. She had been through the boxes upstairs too, always making sure to leave them how she found them so she didn’t tip her mother off. She never understood why she kept them private from her like she didn’t already know about most of the stuff in there.

“So, why don’t you and mom kiss anymore?”

Carol’s hand skidded to a stop, a choke coming up her throat that ended in a cough she could barely get out. She stood there stunned for a moment, unsure if she had heard the girl correctly. She didn’t notice the small cut on the side of her finger from the edge of the grater yet.

“W-what?”

“Why don’t you and mommy kiss anymore? I don’t know why she keeps all that stuff in the boxes upstairs a secret like I didn’t always see you guys. It was normal when you guys acted normal, now it’s weird seeing you two act different. Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

Carol was still too stunned to speak, standing over the more than half grated cheese that was now no good to use since her finger was bleeding a bit more. Monica looked up at her and noticed the blood, then stared at her with those same curious eyes, only now a touch of concern in them. Carol could feel the stare so she forced herself to shake her head again, clearing her throat in the process.

“I, um, I don’t really know what you’re talking about I don’t think.”

“Right. Here, your blood is ruining the cheese.”

Monica handed her a towel. Carol looked down and finally noticed all the blood. It wasn’t a crazy amount but definitely enough to have ruined the cheese. She wrapped the towel around it and walked to the sink, rinsing it off with cool water while she felt like she was in a daze. She started thinking about the letter Maria had sent her again. She read through the words in her head again, over and over while the water stung her finger. She could hear Monica in the back cleaning up her mess and she felt bad. She felt bad for ruining a part of dinner per usual, but also for reacting this way. And for not actually having an answer. She couldn’t have been sure before this but now she could.

Maybe? Maybe Monica meant cheek kissing or forehead kisses. Maybe her child mind was more innocent than Carol’s confused one. She turned the water off and looked in the junk drawer for some bandaids. She pulled out a pink barbie one and wrapped it tight over her new cut. It would probably be gone in a few hours but she wanted the security of the bandaid in the moment. For some reason, she felt shaken up again. Her face felt hot and her chest felt tight. She turned back to Monica who was finishing up her grating now, adding it into the bowl. As Carol walked back over to grab it to put with the rest of the food, she was searching for something to say in response that actually made sense. Before she could get anything out, Monica chimed in again.

“I’m sorry I asked, I wasn’t sure if it would make you feel funny. But please don’t tell mom I was snooping. I just wanted to see as much of you as I could. But she’ll be upset with me if you tell, I think.”

“Don’t worry about it, Trouble. Secrets safe with me.”

Carol said, smiling weakly at the girl. Monica did feel bad, but she also kind of knew this would be the reaction Carol would have. It only confirmed one of her theories, that Carol didn’t remember that her and Maria were in a relationship. She was almost tempted to say something else when they both heard the sound of Maria’s car pull in the long drive way. They looked at each other and nodded quickly. Monica started cleaning off the table while Carol started making plates. Finally, something her super speed could help with. She made all three plates and set them on the table right as Maria opened the front door. Monica ran over to her, hugging her tightly as she hung her bag on the rack near the door. She hugged back, running her hand softly over the girls forehead with a smile.

“Smells good in here. Did Monica cook?” Maria laughed, kicking off her work shoes and slipping on the sandals she wore around the house.

“Haha, very funny!”

Carol shouted from the kitchen where she was borderline having a panic attack, trying to figure out how to act normal enough to get through the rest of the night with Monica’s question looming over her head.

“Nope, I only helped! Mama Carol did most of the work. I made lunch though. Mom said it was the best sandwich she’d ever had anywhere in all the galaxies!”

Monica exclaimed, only half telling the truth, as she nearly dragged Maria to the kitchen table.

“I said something like that, yes.”

Carol laughed, her mouth forming into a smile when her eyes met Maria’s.

Maria smiled back before quickly looking around the kitchen, half expecting to see a new scorch mark somewhere.

“It looks… the same as I left it, in here, minus a few dirty dishes. I’m impressed, Danvers.”

Maria smirked, walking to the sink to wash her hands before sitting down and letting Monica get in her lap. She was certainly growing, she barely fit between the table and Maria anymore but she always made it work.

“How was your day?”

Monica asked her mother, once again kicking her feet excitedly, being back in the presence of Maria. It meant a lot to Maria that she still got excited to see her. She hoped it would last through puberty.

“Ya’know, same ol’ same ol’. Protecting the world from aliens, which oddly enough usually is just a bunch of paperwork no one else reads or signs. So, pretty successful I guess.”

Maria laughed, pulling Monica’s cheek in for a small peck.

“I’m more interested in how YA’LL’S day went. The lawn looks… great, by the way.”

Before Carol could chime in, which she wasn’t going to being that she was staring at Maria’s toned arms the entire time she’d been in the room, Monia answered for them both.

“It was AWESOME! We caught so many frogs, I named one after you, and then I finally climbed up the whole tree!”

Maria chuckled, noting the small scrapes on her daughter but not worrying. It wasn’t a normal day if Monica didn’t get at least one scrape or bruise from her exploring.

“Well, I’m flattered. Did you get any help from a certain superhero, by any chance?”

“Nope, she did it all on her own. Much faster than I did, too.”

Carol answered while shooting her hands up like finger guns, shooting a wink to Monica who delighted at the remark.

Maria looked at the pink Barbie bandaid on the woman’s finger and half laughed half frowned.

“Seems like no one made it out without a few cuts today, huh?”

Carol looked down at her hand, almost embarrassed. She laughed.

“She got that from grating cheese, not climbing the tree!”

Monica answered, once again saving Carol from trying to find words.

“Why am I not surprised? Well anyways, thank you both for doing such a good job with the chores today. Looks like you both really earned that extra tv time tonight.”

Maria winked at them both before letting Monica scoot off her leg and back into her own chair, ready to eat.

“Thank god, I’m so hungry. I forgot to pack lunch last night so all I had today was a bunch of coffee and some nasty as- mm, some gross altoids my secretary had.”

“Sheesh. I hope it actually tastes like food this time then! Oop, I forgot the forks.” Carol said, about to get up and grab them. Monica beat her to it and ran over to the counter, leaving the two women with a moment or two to take each other in. They both held back a sigh, and just smiled at each other. The eye contact felt too much for both of them, for the same and different reasons.

Monica returned and they broke their shared gaze, both feeling a mixture of missing it and thankful that it was over. Monica handed everyone a fork she had picked specifically for them and they all ate, swapping stories of their days back and forth. Maria laughed feeling relieved hearing how well the day went, she was hoping she would still have a house to come back between Monica and Carol. As they were all finishing their meals, Maria noticed the stack of games left out on the coffee table.

“Make sure you put those up, Mon’.” She said softly, taking a sip of some iced tea.

“I will. Also, guess who won the most games tonight? Guess, guess!”

Carol shook her head with a laugh.

“Hmm, if I was gonna take a wild guess… You?!”

Maria smiled widely, pointing at her daughter playfully.

“You betcha’! I whooped Mama Carol’s butt like eighty billion times at all the games. Even the one you taught me that she was supposed to be super good at, even with the new fancy dice! She only won that one three times, and the last one was just pure luck cause’ I almost had it!”

Carol and Monica laughed together, and suddenly Maria’s eyes unfocused. The laughter in the background melted into one sound, and everything else started to go quiet. She thought about the dice. The colors on the dots. Where she had left them sitting, in the box, in her room. She thought about why they were in Carol’s belongings and not her own. Then she thought about everything else that was in the box with them. She only came to when Monica and Carol’s laughing slowed down, reminding her that it would seem weird if she didn’t respond in the next second or two.

“Well, it looks like the mighty do fall sometimes. I used to let her win that game every time we played it.”

Maria half heartedly laughed with a smirk, almost instantly regretting bringing up the past. Carol looked down at her almost empty plate for a moment before fixing her own face to shoot back something well timed and sarcastic enough to play off the shudder that sentence sent through her spine.

“Hmm, crazy cause when it comes to everyone else in the world, meaning you, I’m still the world champion. Monica just had that lucky dice trick.”

Before Maria could even laugh, Monica jumped in.

“Hey! It’s not just the lucky dice, I just also happen to be the smartest person in the whole wide stinkin’ world too!”

“You make a good point.”

Carol and Maria said in unison, both with an adoring laugh. All three looked at each other and broke out laughing, feeling thankful for the lack of awkwardness that probably would’ve left in the air if it wasn’t so funny.

After that, everyone finished and avoided the different subjects on everyone’s minds happily. Carol cleaned up the plates, grazing by Maria’s arm while she walked to the sink. Monica pulled Maria over to the couch with her while Carol washed the dishes, quickly putting away all the games they had left out and positioning herself on the couch while Maria flipped through the channels for her. She had sat right in the middle, leaving just enough space for either woman on both sides of her. She really did live up to that nickname sometimes, both mother’s thought. When Carol made her way over, they were just settling on a show to watch.

“Remember, you get 10 extra minutes.”

“Does that have to count commercials? Can we pause the timer when they come on? Pleeeeeaasssshhhhh.”

Monica pretended to beg to both women who laughed.

“We’ll see what we can do. Time starts now, though.”

Maria answered her. Monica turned towards the tv and leaned back, wanting to take in every minute she had. She normally would get about an episode and a half in during her nighttime tv, maybe two if her mom dozed off in between. She was sure she was going to get at least two this time, since Maria looked sleepy. She didn’t account for Carol’s super powers making her have a longer stamina, but she figured she wouldn’t snitch. She looked up at her as they watched and she shot her down a wink in return, solidifying their silent agreement. As long as it was still summertime, Carol didn’t have an issue with it. Of course, she wouldn’t go against Maria, though, unless of course she fell asleep. Which she usually did.

The three sat through an episode, choosing not to count the commercials in their internal timers, and started the second one. A few minutes in, Monica had positioned herself with her head and back on Carol’s lap, with her legs and feet on Maria’s. She watched the show quietly, not noticing herself dozing off. Once the second episode was over, she was fast asleep, nearly drooling on Carol. Both women laughed quietly at the sight. Maria reaches for the remote to turn off the tv while Carol effortlessly lifts Monica up and begins to walk her to her room. As she walks away, Maria fights the idea of Carol lifting her that way and carrying her to bed. She shakes her head and stands up to go to the fridge.

When Carol makes her way back downstairs after carefully tucking the young girl in, she’s greeted with Maria passing her a beer and a bottle opener.

“Not sure if you still need to use these, but c’mon.”

Carol doesn’t need it but she chooses to use it anyway. She follows Maria without question through the front door and onto the porch. The sun is down now and it’s not quite as warm as it was the night before.

“God, I’ve been waiting for this all day.”

Maria says, taking a long swig from the cold bottle. She sits down on the steps and leans back on her elbows, beer still laced between her fingers. She looks like she’s relaxing but Carol wonders if she is. She stands against one of the posts for a moment, opening her beer, before sitting down next to the woman but not too close. She hopes she’s the only one who can feel the tension in the air. It’s different than last time she was home.

“Long day, I take it?”

“Always.”

Maria sighs with a short laugh, taking another sip.

“But that’s the job. I’m sure you get it.”

Maria finishes, not sure if what she said sounded shady or not. It wasn’t meant to be. Or maybe it was, but it wasn’t coming from the part of her she was trying to show up as it. It was coming from the part she was burying inside of her.

“I do, but I also don’t. You have a lot to handle all the time. I’m happy I… can help, I guess.”

Carol wasn’t sure if that last part was a question or not. They both almost flinched at the word help. Carol was more than just a friend who liked to help. She was a parent and neither wanted her to take that away from herself just because of how long she had been away. Both decided not to say anything in the moment, though. They both just sipped their beers and looked out in front of them, gazing up and out at the world around them. Somehow, it felt bigger now that they were both on it together.

Maria thought about the box again, trying to keep it from her mind to no avail. She also thought about Carol’s skin grazing against hers in the kitchen earlier. She wondered if their contact would be minimal. Despite the late night and early morning they had shared, they hadn’t really touched or even been this close since. The first night never counted, that was their unspoken rule since the second time Carol had been home.

She was exhausted when she arrived, fighting to stay awake long enough to talk to both Rambeaus’ even though she wanted to so badly. It had been a particularly grueling mission and she had flown directly back to Earth after the conflict was over, not taking a break. So, when Maria offered to watch some TV with her on the couch, she sank quickly into the cushions. Before they knew it, they had woken up to the sun coming through the living room windows, curled into each other. Neither thought it was weird then, so why was it weird now?

Carol thought about the box too, rereading the words from the letter in her mind again. Thinking about the pictures on Maria’s desk. Then she thought about the dream she had, with everyone sitting on the porch. She was so deep into replaying it that she almost jumped when a frog hopped by, startling both women from their respective day dreams.

“I think that’s the one Monica named after you.”

Carol laughed, remembering the day she had fondly.

“I’m flattered.”

Maria laughed back, the laugh jumping up her throat. It’s like she needed to laugh, after a long day of dealing with domestic and intergalactic bullshit, along with the mark Carol was burning into her brain.

It started to go quiet again until Carol spoke up, feeling the bubbles from the beer in her brain even if it wasn’t going to get her tipsy.

“You know, I dream about sitting on this porch a lot.” “Yeah?”

Maria asks, not looking at Carol.

“Yeah. With you and Mon. There’s always a shit ton of bubbles everywhere and it’s always a really nice day. I have that dream a lot. Except for when I’m actually here.”

Carol explained, partly relieved to share it with Maria. She leaned back, taking a sip before setting the beer down on the step next to her. She waited to see if Maria would answer, unsure if she wanted her to.

Maria sat with a small smile, unsure if she would be able to keep herself composed through the moment. She dreams about home.

“You know, when you first came back with your powers, I wondered if you still even needed to sleep.”

“Ha, you know I had the same thought when I realized I wasn’t actually half Kree. On the planet, I slept but I never felt tired. I only started to feel regular human things when I came back here. It was nice to feel sleepy again. It made rest feel satisfying, instead of just kind of necessary.”

Maria looked over at Carol, daring to meet eyes if she looked over too. She wanted to run a hand over the woman's thigh, comfort her for all the things she was sure were running through her mind. She wanted to reach out, pull her into her chest, and hold her there like a child. She wanted to rip all the pain of being conditioned and having to fight to undo it from her, stop it out on the ground and set it on fire for her. With a regular match, not fire from her hands even though sometimes she was convinced she could produce some magic power from her own hands too if she let herself feel enough. She hadn’t realized she had been staring and hadn’t responded until Carol finally turned to look at her.

“I’m okay, you know. You don’t have to look at me like I’m gonna burst into flames any second. I’m okay, I feel normal being here.”

Carol smiled reassuringly, almost shyly.

“I know, I just hate those bastards.”

Maria sighed, letting her shoulders fall as she looked down at the space between them.

“I feel you. But, you know, someone once told me hate takes up too much room.”

Maria’s heart skipped a beat. Of course Carol would remember one of her wiser parables now, when all she wanted to do was be angry for her. It was usually the other way around, but despite her usual craziness, Carol always had a way of saying the right thing at the right time, even if she didn’t mean to. A superpowered space warrior was right two times a day, it seemed. She let herself laugh, but it came out rougher than she had expected.

Carol reached over instinctively to grab her hand, squeezing it tight. That’s the second time. Maria thought, wondering if Carol was counting the times they touched too. She felt a dangerous warmth push its way to her chest. She would blame it on the beer like she always did but she couldn’t. Why was she on the verge of tears?

“Hey.” Carol whispered, trying to look at the woman’s face. She tried to smile, squeezing her hand again. This time, Maria squeezed back before pulling it away and picking her empty beer bottle up.

“I think I’m gonna take a shower, long day, you know. If you wanna borrow some pajamas again, feel free to grab some from my dresser.”

Carol sat still for a moment, wondering if she had gone too far. Normally conversations like this would flow with ease and mutual fluidity. They would hang on each other’s every word until the inevitable came when the sun rose. Maria would wake Monica up to say goodbye, they’d share a cup or two of coffee and by the time the sun was almost at it’s peak, Carol would be long in the distance, no longer even in the atmosphere. So now, having more time than normal, she hoped she hadn’t over stepped. As Maria closed in on the door, only half a step before entering, Carol turned around to look at her.

“Where do you want me to sleep?”

Maria paused, not sure what to say. How did she communicate that she would rather pull her own hair out strand by strand than lay in her bed alone, without Carol Danvers, for another night? How did she explain that she didn’t want to sleep, she was tired in a way only Carol’s skin and fingers and mouth could heal her of? How did she communicate that this was her house too, and she could sleep wherever the fuck she wanted - on the roof if she pleased - as long as Maria could be next to her, without saying any of that?

“Wherever you feel comfortable.” She turned and smiled as best as she could before letting the screen door close behind her, trying to keep a normal pace as she made her way to the bathroom.

Carol sat on the steps for a few more minutes, giving Maria time to get her things for her shower ready and giving herself time to ponder what she should do. Should she sleep on the couch? Should she tell Maria that there’s no where in the universe more comfortable to her than next to her? Should she pretend she didn’t read the letter and see the pictures and hear what Monica said earlier? Should she just sleep on the god damn couch? Having not made up her mind yet, she wandered upstairs and pulled out an old teeshirt from one of the boxes she had been in earlier. She shivered when she looked at the box with the letter in it. She forced herself to focus, shuffling through to find anything appropriate to wear and pulled out some old PT shorts. They were certainly going to be shorter on her now than they were then, given she had put on some much needed muscle in certain areas but they’d have to do.

She felt too embarrassed to go through Maria’s drawer, wear her clothes and then awkwardly make her way to the couch downstairs, only to have to face her in the morning when breakfast time came. She didn’t feel right marking Maria’s belongings, even if they were just a bunch of holiday themed pajamas that she didn’t wear that often anyways.

Carol decided to change as quickly as she could, and wait to say goodnight to Maria when she came in. She figured she should probably sleep on the couch, suddenly feeling very much like a guest who didn’t want to overstay their welcome. She switched out of her bottoms and underwear, jumping into the shorts she had found. They were snug but not uncomfortable. She took her shirt off quickly and as she began pulling her sports bra over her head, Maria walked in.

Shit.

They both thought in unison. Thankfully, Carol’s back was to the door, so she pulled on the t shirt she found quickly while scolding herself for not paying attention enough to hear Maria coming down the hall.

“S-sorry! I didn’t know you were in here yet. Didn’t see anything.”

Maria assured, despite the fact that she was still staring at Carol’s once bare back while the woman folded up her clothes in a hurry. To Carol’s surprise, when she turned around, all she saw was Maria’s naked shoulders, moisturized perfectly, with a purple towel wrapped around her. She turned back around almost quicker than Maria could register. It was Carol’s turn to stutter.

“Oh shit, s-sorry! I didn’t see anything either! I didn’t hear you coming!”

Maria accidentally laughed.

“Don’t you have super hearing?”

“Shut up! It only works when you pay attention to it! I thought you were still in the shower. I’m surprised you were so fast, Lt. Trouble told me you use all the hot water.”

Carol quipped back confidently, although she was still turned around and suddenly felt very warm.

“Oh, Trouble indeed. What else did she tell you?”

“A bunch.”

Carol responded with a smirk in her voice. She sounded like a middle schooler, again reminding Maria how alike her and Monica were.

“I’m sure. You can turn around now, if you want.”

Carol turned to see Maria smoothing a big white shirt over her belly button, quickly covering up the top of her thighs that were barely covered by the blue boy shorts she was wearing underneath. Carol stared down at the clothes in her hands trying not to seem as anxious as she was. She bent down to pick up the black pair of underwear and a sock she had dropped when she heard Maria chuckle.

“HA! What the hell are you wearing? Are those PT shorts? And does your underwear say Danvers? You still do that?”

She was practically giggling at this point, a sound that sprung butterflies up in Carol’s stomach. It also taunted her, leaving her no choice but to rebuttal.

“Listen man! I’m working with what I got! And no, I don’t still write my name in my underwear. I got these from the box of my old clothes.”

Carol quipped, but found herself almost giggling too. She would’ve found it funny if Maria had on PT shorts from bootcamp too.

“Whew. That is hilarious, Danvers.”

Maria breathes out, barely recovering from her fit of laughter at Carol’s expense.

“Oh yeah, I’m flattered!”

She rolled her eyes playfully at Maria. They both sat down on the bed trying to collect themselves, both feeling lighter than before by a small margin.

After a few moments, Maria broke the impending silence before it could secure itself between them.

“Seems like you an Mon’ had a good day. Hopefully she didn’t give you too much trouble for one day.”

“Nah, it wasn’t too bad at all. She did whoop my ass in pretty much every game you guys own though.”

Carol smiled to herself. Maria fought hard to avoid bringing up the board game and the dice again. She quickly found a new topic to latch onto.

“You know, I must say, you also really did a great job not burning the place down with all that cooking you were doing. Are the aliens teaching you how to handle a kitchen or have you been practicing?”

She laughs, almost forced but she was actually impressed.

“Mmm. Id say it was pure dumb luck, but I’m gonna try to replicate it tomorrow.”

Carol chuckles, not knowing that the mention of tomorrow was sending Maria’s heart into a frenzy. Silence weasled it’s way back between them for a few moments, although Carol didn’t pick up on it as much this time. It wasn’t until Maria broke it again that she realized it was her turn to figure out how to not let it freeze the warm air between them.

“So, there’s a tomorrow?”

Maria asked timidly, not wanting to latch too tightly onto the idea that Carol might be staying for longer than coffee in the morning.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll be here tomorrow. I wanna try my hand at making waffles this time.”

Carol tries to cut the returned tension she felt.

“I was thinking about working on my old car in the garage too, if that’s okay with you of course.”

“Yeah, of course. You know you don’t have to ask. This is your house, too. And it’s literally your car.”

Your house, too. Carol reached into the pocket of the pants she had on earlier, pulling out two colorful dice. She rolled them around in her hand for a second.

“Yeah?”

She said, turning to finally face the woman sitting once again a bit too far away from her. The feeling of being a guest in her own home no longer sat in her chest. She allowed her eyes to make their way up Maria’s frame before meeting her eyes. Carol felt her hand move towards the woman, who was now looking down at one of the die in her non moving hand. Maria was almost terrified to meet her gaze, breath caught in her throat. Carol felt their hands connect, dropping the other die in her hand before closing her fingers around Maria’s. The woman next to her squeezed tight, almost too tight even for the superhero.

Maria finally met Carol’s eyes with her own, finally releasing her breath, allowing her chest to move.

“Yeah.”

She said softly, almost too soft to hear but just enough for Carol. They both looked like they might burst into tears, both of them having to break eye contact but refusing to release each other from their grip. Third time, Maria counted in her blurring mind. She suddenly felt like all she could hear was her own heartbeat and Carol’s breath. They were close again, it was all she needed. She needed to feel Carol’s skin, know she was real. Know she wouldn’t let go.

Carol struggling against her own breath, finally let the desperation sitting inside of her take control.

“What’re we doing, ‘Ri?”

She asked, in almost a whisper. She heard Maria’s breath get choked in her throat, just like she had earlier in the kitchen with Monica. She was still worried that she might have pushed too far too fast, but she needed something. Anything Maria could give her. An answer, a rejection, anything. She couldn’t sit still in the stifled confusion much longer, she feared she might actually implode. She waited, listening to Maria’s breathing. In and out, in and out. Like she was trying to quietly catch her breath. She heard her heart beat, it matched her own. Like they could beat out of their chests and find the other heart. Like they needed to be pressed together. So, Carol did just that. Finally listening to what her body was telling her. Hoping it wouldn’t be the wrong thing.

Just as Maria tried to whisper I don’t know, she let go of Maria’s hand and pulled her in, chest to chest, nestling her face in Maria’s shoulder. Maria whimpered, almost in shock. It took her almost 10 seconds to return the embrace, finally crushing into Carol the way she needed to. She knelt her face in the warmth of Carol’s neck, creating a tsunami in Carol from the graze of her lips against the side of her neck alone. They made themselves impossibly close, quieting the sounds of the world and honing in on each other’s heart beats. They took in each other’s scent, filling their lungs with the air surrounding each other. They let their hair tickle each other, finding comfort in the familiar feeling of Blackness around them. They rocked into each other to a rhythm that was so natural it almost felt like part of breathing. Finally, Maria let it drop.

A single tear rolled down Carol’s shoulder, sliding down as far as it could carry itself. Maria choked back what was sure to be her own tsunami.

“Mar-”

“I miss you. -- I miss you I m-iss you I miss you.”

She whispered with a drawn out sob. It was so quiet, it felt tragic to them both.

Carol was silent, letting the woman release whatever she was ready to, feeling her chest heave with the impatience to relieve itself from the pent up emotions. She felt the woman in her arms shake softly, trying to fight back anything she convinced herself was a weakness. She had things to do, a person to be, a child to raise. She couldn’t let the grief get her again. But it was always there, maybe even more now in some ways. She hadn’t let this happen in so long, and the weight of pretending had pushed her to the edge of herself. She was the strongest woman in the world, and it was because she was soft.

Carol struggled against her own tears, trying not to let them come so that she wouldn’t center her own pain in the moment. They were both too similar for their own good. She listened to Maria’s body pull the words up her throat and out her mouth, betraying her as they saved her from the pit she kept forcing herself into.

“I miss you ss-so much.” She repeated several times over. Like it was the only language she spoke. Eventually, she stopped, letting her fingers relax from gripping into Carol’s skin as tight as she could. She leaned into Carol more, feeling the weight of her body’s exhaustion mix with that of her mind. Carol let her, holding her firm but gentle. She lifted the woman up just as effortlessly as she did Monica, and carried her to her side of the bed, never moving her face from her shoulder. She laid her and herself down, sliding easily over top of her until she was on her side, careful not to put any weight on Maria’s body. She pulled the cover over them, that being the only time her hand left Maria’s body. She cradled the soft woman, giving her all of herself. She rocked her gently, counting her heart beats.

As Maria’s breath finally got slower and deeper, she knew she would be asleep soon. Maria didn’t want to sleep but she needed it. Carol needed it to. They stuck to each other like glue, once again paying no mind to the heat stuck between them. Carol whispered back, finally.

“I miss you too.”

She felt Maria squeeze her tighter, then release and finally relax her body all the way.

No more sniffles, no more sounds, just the weightless feeling of being together. It was easy again, for the moment. Carol rubbed her thumb lightly over Maria’s back, comforting them both enough to rest. She let the thoughts she had been fighting release from the walls of her mind, daring to look at them. She thought about the night in the lake, laying in the sand. She thought about the night before she left for a new base, with no idea when they’d be together again. She thought about the first time she came home, the gentle uncertainty between them melting away like it always did - no matter how much still needed to be figured out. She wasn’t sure how much progress had been made, but she knew that this is where she needed to be. As she finally let herself drift off to sleep, knowing that Maria was alright enough now, she knew she wouldn’t dream. She released herself to the peace of belonging, only to be startled one more time.

“Don’t you even think about leaving until you finish that car.”

Maria commanded, even in her softest state. Carol smiled, feeling even more in place now.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

35 notes · View notes