#2 whole (yet to be introduced) ones

[iamthelegman]

Does anyone else hate when someone (especially someone you’ve just met) shortens your name?

[mikcschmidt]

I actually have . Much to say abt the monty erasure but I fear I maybe just autistic and overreacting n he will appear in a dlc or something I just love monty so much n him being cut out of that gingerbread cookie ruin art was my last straw ((slash jay

[demilypyro]

So I've seen a few too many people on twitter talking about The Kiss Scene from the new Scott Pilgrim anime. People saying it's fetishistic and indulgent, people calling it male gazey, etc. And while the kiss itself is certainly a bit exaggerated, I felt like writing a bit about why I disagree, and why context is important, like it always is. But it basically turned into an extended analysis on the metatextual treatment of Roxie Richter. So bear with me. It's a long post.

What really matters about this scene is not the kiss itself, but what precedes it. Not even just the fight scene just before it, but what precedes the whole anime series, really. And that's the Scott Pilgrim comic book, and the live action movie. Because in both, Roxie is a punchline.

She's a joke. Her character starts and ends with "one of the exes is actually a girl, I bet you didn't expect that." Jokes are made about Ramona's latent bisexuality, the movie especially treating it as funny and absurd, and her validity as a romantic interest is entirely written off by Ramona as being "just a phase." There's a fight scene, she's defeated by a man giving her an orgasm which implicitly calls her sexuality into question (come on), and the movie just moves on. It sucks. It really, really sucks.

The comic fares a little better. It never veers into outright homophobia like the movie does, and while the line about Ramona having gone through a phase remains, Roxie actually gets one over on Scott when Ramona briefly gets back with Roxie. But Roxie is still only barely a character. Like all the other evil exes, she's just a stepping stone towards the male protagonist's development. She barely even gets any screentime before she's defeated by Scott's "power of love." But Roxie stands out, since she's the only villain who is queer, or at least had been confirmed queer at that point (hi Todd). In a series that champions multiple gay men in the supporting cast, the single undeniable lesbian in the story is a villain. She's labeled as evil, made fun of, pushed aside in favor of the men, and then discarded. Her screentime was never about her, or her feelings for Ramona. It was about the straight, male protagonist needing to overcome her. And that was Roxie Richter. An unfortunate victim of the 2010s.

Fast forward to current year, and the new anime series is announced. Everybody sits down to watch the new series expecting another retelling of the same story, and.... hang on, that straight male protagonist I mentioned just died in the first episode. And now it's humanizing the villains from the original story. And there's Roxie, introduced alongside the other evil exes in the second episode, and she's being played entirely straight, without a punchline in sight. No jokes are made about her gender, no questions are made of her validity as one of Ramona's romantic interests. The narrative considers her important. In one episode, she already gets more respect than she did in either of the previous iterations of Scott Pilgrim. And this isn't even her focus episode yet... which happens to be the very next one.

The anime series goes to great lengths to flesh out the original story's villains and to have Ramona reconcile with them. And I don't think it's a coincidence that Roxie gets to go first. While Matthew Patel gets his development in episode 2, Roxie is the first to directly confront Ramona, now our main protagonist. This is notable too because it's the only time the exes are encountered out of order. Roxie is supposed to be number 4, but she's first in line, and later on you realize that she's the only one who's out of sequence. She's the one who sets the precedent for the villains being redeemed. She's the most important character for Ramona to reconcile with.

What follows is probably the most extensive, elaborate 1 on 1 fight scene in the whole show. Roxie fights like a wounded animal, her motions are desperate and pained. Ramona can only barely fight back against her onslaught. Different set-pieces fly by at breakneck speed as Roxie relentlessly lays her feelings at Ramona's feet through her attacks and her distraught shouts. And unlike the comic or the movie, Ramona acknowledges them, and sincerely apologizes. And the two end up just laying there, exhausted, reminiscing about when they were together.

Only after this, after all of this, does the kiss scene happen. Roxie has been vindicated, she has reconciled with the person who hurt her, the narrative has deemed that her anger is justified and has redeemed her character. And she gets her victory lap by making the nearest other hot girl question her heterosexuality, sharing a sloppy kiss with her as the music triumphantly crescendos.

It's... a little self-congratulatory, honestly. But it's good. It's redemption for a character who had been mistreated for over a decade. And she punctuates the moment by being very, very gay where everyone can see it, no men anywhere in sight. Because this is her moment. And then she leaves the plot, on her own accord this time, while humming the hampster dance. What a legend. How could anything be wrong with this.

[keeryhours]

teen pregnancy series - steve harrington part 2

Steve Harrington x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Teen Pregnancy Series Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

Part 1

You find yourself pregnant with your best friend Nancy’s boyfriend’s baby after a drunken mistake.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, pregnancy, traumatic birth, pregnancy complications, angst

Word Count: 16.4k

A/N:

Please read part 1 first if you haven’t yet! I worked so hard on this one so I’m excited to have the finished thing posted for you guys! Thanks again to the besties @punkrockmlchael @the-witty-pen-name @lesservillain @glassbxttless @fizzing-imagines 💕

Friday came much too soon. You dressed nice for school, not bothering to hide the belly. You wore a little dress that showed off your figure, and a pair of boots. Steve smiled when he saw you, his eyes roaming your body.

“You look beautiful,” he said as you climbed into his car. “They’re probably going to like you more than they like me.”

School had become hell. It helped that Steve had your back. Steve was getting much less shit than you were. In fact, most of the guys at school thought he was something of a legend. But when you were alone, your classmates were vicious.

Someone you never expected to find comfort in was Carol Perkins.

“Talk to her like that again and I’ll kick your ass.”

It was seemingly out of nowhere. One second some kids were making rude comments, then the next thing you knew Carol slid up beside you, linking her arm in yours and telling them off. You were confused as she stepped off with her head held high, taking you with her.

“Um…”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’m not gonna let anyone give you shit.”

It wasn’t long before you were spending most every minute of your day with either Carol or Steve. Even Steve was a little skeptical of Carol’s intentions, but she seemed sincere.

And she wasn’t as bad as you, Nancy, and Barb had thought. She was sweet - something you never thought you’d say - and she was funny. And she really did have your back. She even stared down Nancy giving you dirty looks in chem.

After school Friday, you followed Steve out to his car just like every day. Only neither of you were taking this lightly. You’d finally be meeting the Harringtons, and Steve had appropriately scared you for the dinner.

“Just letting you know, they’re awful,” he said, talking with his hands as he drove. “Like, really awful. My dad is an ass. My mom just lets him. It’s a whole thing.”

He was doing nothing to help your ‘meeting the parents’ nerves. “Are they really that bad?”

“They’re pretty bad.” He sighed. “I think they’re trying to make an effort, though. They want you and the baby to be around. They’re actually a little excited for their first grandchild.”

You smiled a little at that, hand resting on your belly. It was evident through your clothes and you didn’t attempt to hide it now. “I hope they like me.”

“They probably will,” he said. “Like I said, probably more than they like me.”

You were surprised at just how nice the Harrington’s house was. Steve pulled into the driveway of a gorgeous two story home with a large pool in the back. He gave you a nervous smile and squeezed your hand  like well, here we go.

You walked hand in hand to the front door, Steve letting himself in. The smell of dinner hit you immediately, making your mouth water - was that steak? - and your stomach rumbled.

“Hungry?” Steve laughed.

“Starving,” you admitted.

“Well, good. I’m sure my mom cooked a feast.”

As you walked into the kitchen, a well dressed woman stood over the stove, her hair pulled back tightly. A man in a suit was leaning against the island bar, talking to her. They both looked over as you and Steve walked in, and the woman gave you a polite smile.

“Steve,” she said. “So this must be…”

Steve said your name for you, introducing you to both his parents. “This is my mom and dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” his mother said, reaching for your hand. “I’m Melissa.”

You took her hand and smiled politely as you shook it. You waited for his father to introduce himself, but he said nothing. Finally, his mother spoke up again. “And this is Richard, Steve’s father.”

You could feel their gazes drop to your stomach immediately as you dropped your arm. You suddenly wanted to cover up, wishing you had worn the sweatshirt again, but it was too late for that now.

Steve surprised you by reaching over and placing a hand on your stomach, too. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room. “Are you okay?” he asked, quiet enough for only you to hear.

You nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “I’m okay.”

Steve’s hand lingered protectively on your belly for a moment longer before he moved, turning back to face his parents. “So…what’s for dinner?”

Dinner turned out to be steaks, with mashed potatoes and green beans on the side. Your stomach growled with hunger as you eyed the food being placed on the table - eating for two was correct, because you had been infinitely hungrier the past few months.

You all took a seat at the table, Steve’s dad sitting at the head of the table with his wife next to him, Steve on the other side with you at the end of the table. You were so relieved it was time to eat, it distracted you from your nerves as you dug into your plate.

“So,” Steve’s mother began, looking at you. “Steve tells us you’re very smart.”

You blushed, looking over at Steve, who smiled sheepishly at you. “I…I’m in some advanced classes, yes.”

“College plans?” she asked, almost as if she had forgotten about the pregnancy entirely.

Your heart sunk in your chest. “I was planning to go to Emerson. But now…”

An awkward silence settled over the room. The only sounds to be heard were the dishes clinking together as you all ate. It was Steve’s dad who spoke next. “What do the two of you plan to do about all this?” he asked, getting straight to the point as he gestured between you and Steve.

You froze again, but Steve spoke up. “What do you mean, dad?”

“I mean,” he said, looking sternly at both of you. “I don’t think either of you understand the gravity of the situation you’re in.” He looked at you. “You’re an only child, yes?”

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“And so are you,” he said to Steve. “So, what do either of you know about babies? And how hard it will be to take care of one?”

No one said anything. You weren’t sure if there was anything to be said to that.

“Not only that,” he continued, “but how will you support yourselves and a baby?”

He was asking questions you truly didn’t know the answer to. “I was thinking I could-“ Steve began, but his father cut him off.

“Thinking you could work for me?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “We had talked about it-“

“Son, you’re welcome to come work with me. But you’re on your own. This child is your responsibility, I expect you to take care of both the baby and her.”

Steve looked at you. He reached over the table and took your hand. “I can do that.”

His father nodded. “Good.” Another beat of silence. “Do you both plan to finish school?”

“Yes,” you said quickly. “The baby won’t be born until after graduation, so…”

“Yeah, we’re both going to finish the year,” Steve said. He looked at you. “She still wants to go to college, maybe…after the baby is born,”

You nodded. “Yeah…if I can.”

“That’s good,” Steve’s mother said, giving you a smile. “I’m glad you have big dreams and ambitions.”

You weren’t sure if she was proud of you, or thought you were naive. “Community college, at least.”

“How far along are you?” she asked.

“15 weeks.”

Steve’s parents’ eyes widened. “Almost halfway there,” his mom said, her voice nervous. “We didn’t realize it was that far along.”

Steve’s hand rested on your knee beneath the table.

“She’s been taking good care of herself,” he said. “Going to all her appointments, taking her vitamins.”

“Well that’s the bare minimum, isn’t it, son?” his dad said.

Steve clenched his jaw. He looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t. “She’s doing a good job.”

“Look, son,” he said. “There’s a lot more to having a baby than just having it. You have to worry about diapers, formula if she doesn’t or can’t breastfeed, clothes and supplies-“

“Dad, I know.”

“I don’t know that you do.” His father’s stern voice commanded the entire room. You felt extremely uncomfortable. “I can’t believe you, son. You’re a Harrington. And look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Richard-“ his mother said, but he kept talking as if she hadn’t said anything.

“You’re barely 18 years old. Still in high school. And now you’ve got some girl pregnant?” You felt so small at that - some girl - you shrunk into yourself, wishing you could disappear.

“Dad.”

“No, Steve, I don’t want to hear it. You’ve disgraced this family. You’ve embarrassed not only me, but your poor mother as well. Do you know how you’re being talked about down at the clubhouse? It’s humiliating for both me and your mother.”

Steve gripped his fork tightly. He thought about stabbing it into his father’s hand. “Those people do nothing but gossip anyway-“

“Steven!” he snapped. Steve jumped at the sound of his government name, feeling like a child again as he shrunk under the harsh gaze of his father. “You are not to talk to me that way. Do you want a job with me to take care of your little family or not?”

Silence. “I do.”

“Then act like it.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was almost disturbing to see Steve give up like that. You felt terrible for him - your dad hadn’t taken the pregnancy news well, but neither of your parents were strict. Not like this. The silence left behind after that exchange was deafening.

If you hadn’t been pregnant and starving, you would have lost your appetite. Instead you cleared your plate, and could have gone for seconds if someone offered. After dinner you helped Mrs. Harrington clean up, washing the dishes alongside her - which seemed to earn her approval. You could hear a heated conversation between Steve and his father muffled from the living room.

Once the dishes had been done and the dining room and kitchen were spotless, Steve’s parents told you goodbye. “Thank you for coming to dinner,” Mrs. Harrington said. “We enjoyed having you.” Mr. Harrington said nothing.

“Thank you for having me,” you said. You smiled at them, feeling their eyes once again on your stomach now that you were standing. It was something you were having to get used to in general. Everyone looked.

When Steve placed his hand on your back and led you out of the house and into the fresh air of the night, you took a deep breath that you’d needed for hours. “Well. Glad that’s over.”

Steve laughed, opening the passenger door for you. He took your hand to help you lower yourself into the seat. “Told you they were bad.”

He climbed into the driver’s seat and shut the door. “Yeah, your dad was an asshole,” you said. It made him laugh again.

As he started the engine and began driving back towards your house, a silence settled, although this was a much more comfortable one. Eventually he reached over and took your hand in his, which surprised you but you weren’t complaining. It was just friendly. Nothing romantic between you.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. “Even though they seemed like assholes-“

“Your mom was fine!”

“-believe me,” he continued, “you earned points in their book for even having the balls to show up and take their shit.”

You smiled. “You really think they didn’t hate me?”

“Oh, they loved you. That’s just how they show it.”

It wasn’t long before the BMW pulled up outside your home. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow over the yard. “Want me to walk you in?” Steve asked.

“Sure.”

Steve followed you up the walkway and to the door, his hand resting on your back as if you might hurt yourself without his help. You entered the house to find both of your parents in the living room, watching TV.

“Steve!” your mother said. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” he said. “Just making sure she gets home safely.”

“Well, we appreciate that.” Your mom smiled. Steve gave you a tight hug, one that you were surprised by. He hadn’t been this affectionate with you.

“I’ll see you later,” he said. You watched as he turned and left, feeling like he was taking a piece of you with him, too. You wanted to reach for him, to grasp his hand and bring him back, bring him upstairs and to your room. It wasn’t even sex you were after (although being pregnant had made you super horny), but even just to be held. Steve made you feel safe, cared for.

But you couldn’t do that. It would be weird, for one. It was weird enough that you wanted him in that way. You went upstairs and took your shower before settling into bed - drifting off to thoughts of Steve.

—

Things were getting easier. Well, for the most part. You were 18 weeks pregnant now, bump perfectly round and visible in all your clothes, even the sweatshirt now. Steve never left your side, taking your safety as the most important thing.

You and Carol had grown tight, too. The most unlikely friendship turned out to be the best. Carol was amazing. She was like having Scary Dog Privileges. No one dared fuck with her, or you, now.

“Wheeler is a stuck up bitch,” Carol said as you passed Nancy giving you the dirtiest look once again. “Don’t mind her.”

“I just…feel bad,” you muttered, holding your books tight to your chest. “I did kind of fuck her over.”

Carol shrugged. “Shit happens. They weren’t gonna last anyway.”

“You don’t think?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, definitely not.” She scoffed. “Harrington thought she was the best thing to ever happen to him, but they would have been over by graduation.”

“Why?”

“Well, they just weren’t right for each other, for one.” She pushed a red curl behind her ear. “Harrington never could have been happy with her long term. She’s too…goody goody.”

It was true. You’d never seen Nancy break a rule in her life.

“You, however,” she said, giving you a playful smirk, “would be perfect for him.”

You blushed deeply. “That’s not true. He doesn’t even like me in that way.”

“Sure,” she said, looking at you with a smile that said she knew something you didn’t.

After school on the way home with Steve, he seemed like he had something on his mind. It wasn’t like Steve to not be chatting you up on the way home, telling you every detail of his day and asking you a million questions about how you and the baby felt. He tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road.

“…What’s up?” you finally asked, having had enough of the silence.

Steve looked over at you like you’d surprised him. “What do you mean?”

“You look like you have something on your mind,” you said. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I know.” He tapped his fingers along with the song on the radio. “I was just thinking…”

“About what?”

Steve sighed. “I was just…so, we’re having a baby together, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“And most people who have a baby together are…you know, together.”

You just looked at him. “What are you saying?”

He sighed again, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I’m saying…maybe we should try being together? Like, a couple?” He glanced over at you. “For the baby, of course,” he added quickly.

“Steve…”

“No, it’s okay. It was a stupid idea.”

You felt conflicted. On one hand, you wanted to be with Steve, something you hadn’t even realized about yourself. You wanted to try this. But you knew Steve was only asking for the baby’s sake, not because he liked you in any kind of way. And not to even mention how Nancy would feel about it. You cared a lot about how Nancy felt. It was almost like you thought there was any chance of salvaging your friendship.

“It’s not stupid,” you said quietly. “It’s just…Nancy…”

“No, no, yeah. You’re totally right.” He gestured with his hand, drawing a clear line. “We’re just co-parents. That’s all.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. The car fell into an awkward silence. You felt bad. You wanted to take it back, to tell Steve you wanted to be with him. You wanted to kiss him on the mouth and be touched like he’d touched you that one night. You wanted to do those things with him again. You wanted him to love you.

The BMW pulled up outside your house, but you didn’t get out right away. You debated saying something about it, changing your mind and telling Steve you liked him, but he spoke first.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I even brought that up,” he said. “It’s not like…I mean, we aren’t interested in each other in that way anyway, right? It was a dumb idea. Just forget about it.”

His words struck you in the chest, making your heart ache. You had started to suspect that maybe Steve did like you, but his words put an end to those silly thoughts. How could he? You were nothing like Nancy, not really, despite being her best friend for many years. Nancy was better than you in every way.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s fine, I know you didn’t mean it or anything.”

Something crossed Steve’s face, but he didn’t say anything else. “Call me if you need anything, yeah?” he said instead, the same thing he said most times he dropped you off.

“Okay. I will.” You climbed out of the car, holding your emotions inside as you reached your front door and unlocked it with your key. You turned to see Steve still waiting there, watching to make sure you got inside safely. It only made it hurt worse, the way you wished you could run into his arms and kiss him like you’d dreamed of since that night. But you couldn’t. He wasn’t yours.

He wasn’t yours.

—

You had been counting down to the 20 week appointment since you first accepted the pregnancy and allowed yourself to feel excited. It was the big one - the anatomy scan, where they’d see if everything was progressing the way it should, and if you were having a boy or a girl.

Steve was buzzing with excitement when he picked you up that morning. He handed you a hot chocolate from your favorite place as you got into the car.

“What’s the occasion?” you teased with a smile.

“You know what’s the occasion,” he laughed. “Are you as excited as I am?”

“I don’t know, that’s tough to beat.”

Steve had been talking about it even more than you had. He had a calendar where he was crossing off every day until your due date, and to this appointment. He was probably the most involved dad you’d ever seen, and the baby wasn’t even here yet.

“My mom’s meeting us at the doctor’s office after school,” you said. “She wanted to be there.”

“My mom asked if she could come.”

Your eyes widened. “She did?”

“Yeah.” He started driving to school. “I told her I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Would you have wanted her there?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I mean…” you thought. “I wouldn’t have minded, I don’t think.”

“Really?”

“Well, she is the baby’s grandmother…”

Those words fell heavily onto Steve’s shoulders. “Yeah.”

“But maybe we can tell them in a fun way. Get a little cake or something.”

Steve smiled at you before he turned back to the road. “That’s cute. Yeah, we could do that. I’m sure she’d like it.”

“After the appointment,” you said, “we’ll stop at the bakery.”

The school day really dragged by. You were so excited to get out of there and go to your appointment, every class felt like it was 5 hours long. Steve felt the same way, complaining through the whole day and all of lunch.

“I just wanna knooow,” he whined, leaning back in his seat in the cafeteria. “Like, we’ve been waiting so long.”

“Oh my god, Harrington, we get it,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes. “We get that you’re excited about your kid.”

“Oh, stop,” Carol said, shoving Tommy’s arm. “Let them be excited. It’s exciting.” She gave you a reassuring smile and squeezed your hand. “You guys talk about it as much as you want to.”

Tommy scoffed. “Really? You’re outnumbering me?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Sorry, Hagan, majority rules,” Steve teased. “I get to talk about my kid all day. You’re just jealous, anyway.”

“Jealous?” Tommy said, incredulous, his mouth dropping open. “I am not jealous you’re having a kid in high school.”

“Sure, sure.”

After lunch, you and Carol walked to your lockers together like you did every day. Only she passed hers, following you all the way to yours and leaning against the closed one next to you.

“Can I go with you?” she asked. 

You furrowed your brow, slowing as you took books out of your locker. “Go with me where?”

“To your doctor’s appointment, silly?” she popped her bubblegum, looking at you like the question was obvious. “Can I come?”

“You- why?”

“Because it’s exciting!” she squealed, grabbing your arms. You caught the attention of Nancy and Barb from across the hallway, who both gave you dirty looks. Carol didn’t even notice them. “I wanna find out if I’m gonna be auntie to a little boy or a girl. I think it’s a girl.”

You hadn’t even realized Carol cared so much about your pregnancy. “I…I mean, yeah, you can come.”

“Yes!” she cheered. “I can’t wait to be able to go shopping. I’m gonna spoil them so much, you have no idea.”

After school, Steve surprised you by your locker, making you jump and place a hand over your belly. “Jesus, Steve.”

“Sorry,” he said. “But are you excited? Are you ready to go?”

You closed the locker with all your stuff in it, turning the dial to lock it. “Yes. I’m ready. Carol’s coming, too.”

He looked like he might have a question about that, but he shrugged his shoulders instead. “Okay. The more the merrier.”

Nancy and Barb watched as Steve placed a hand on your round belly, 20 weeks now and no longer fitting into any of your old clothes. Your mom had taken you out shopping for some maternity clothes, which you rejected at first because they all looked like old lady clothes. Ultimately you ended up in a pair of maternity jeans with a stretchy band in the front, and a wardrobe of Steve’s t-shirts he so graciously let you borrow, just oversized enough to fit over the belly.

He didn’t care who was watching as he took the minute to rub his large hand over your stomach, smiling at you with such affection it made your heart beat fast. “I’m really excited,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Your heart swelled. You wanted to say something - 

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Your own thoughts shocked you. Where did that come from?

“I’m excited too,” you said instead. Your hand rested on top of his. You could practically feel Nancy and Barb burning a hole into the back of your head. Steve didn’t even notice them. He just smiled back at you.

“Let’s go,” he said. He put his hand on your lower back and guided you out of the building, not caring if anyone was looking (they were). Carol was waiting by the car, her face breaking out into a huge grin when you and Steve approached. Tommy stood beside her, looking much less excited.

“This is so exciting!” Carol squealed, grabbing your hands. “It’s a girl, I know it.”

“I think it’s a boy,” Tommy muttered, and you smiled - seems like he was more invested than he let on.

“You just want to be his favorite,” Carol said, elbowing him in the ribs.

“We’re gonna follow you,” Tommy said, swinging his keys around his finger. “So whenever you guys are ready.”

Steve helped you get into the passenger seat - you needed a little help these days. He got into the driver’s seat and turned some music on, pulling out of the school parking lot. Tommy’s car followed.

At the office, your mom’s car was waiting right out front. She smiled when she saw you, but you could tell she was feeling emotional. She pulled you into a hug when you got out of the car, holding you close.

“Still can’t believe my baby is having a baby,” she said, sniffling. You hugged her back tightly. Becoming a mother yourself opened your eyes to a lot of things about your own mother.

Your entourage took up a lot of room in the tiny waiting room. Steve sat on one side of you, your mom on the other, and Tommy and Carol across from you. When the nurse called you back, they all followed. The nurse seemed a little surprised, but didn’t say anything.

She did your vitals first, taking your temperature and blood pressure. She looked a little concerned as she took the blood pressure cuff off. “Have you had high blood pressure before?”

You looked up at her, confused. “No.”

“Hm.” She wrote something down in your chart. Steve looked instantly terrified, looking between you to the nurse to your mother, who looked equally as nervous.

“Is that bad?” Steve asked.

“The doctor will discuss it with you,” the nurse said politely, which did not satisfy Steve whatsoever, but he didn’t press the subject.

Steve stayed right by your side as you waddled into the exam room, your mom and friends following behind you. Steve helped you up onto the exam table. You cradled your belly in your arms, feeling the immense love for the tiny little baby already.

It wasn’t long before the ultrasound technician came in, wheeling an ultrasound machine. An external one this time, thank god. “Good afternoon!” she said, giving a huge smile to everyone in the room. “I see we have a party going on in here.”

She instructed you to pull your shirt up as she prepared the machine. She squirted the cold gel onto your belly, pressing the wand hard into your skin and moving it around as she tried to find a good view of the baby. Steve sat right next to you, holding your hand tightly. His eyes were glued to the screen. Everyone’s were.

The small baby popped up on the screen, looking more like a baby than you’d ever seen it. It was real, it felt real - that was a baby. Your baby. Yours and Steve’s. A little Harrington.

Steve’s free hand shot up and covered his mouth as he took in the sight of his child on the screen. Tears welled in his eyes, and he was shaking. He squeezed your hand, and you squeezed his back. Your mom had also started crying, Carol watching with her hand over her chest, even Tommy was moved.

The tech took measurements of every body part, logging them in your chart. Everyone just watched the process, watching the baby moving around on the screen until the moment you’d all been waiting for finally came.

“Do you want to know the gender?” she asked, smiling at each person in the room.

“Yes!” you and Steve both said together. You looked at each other, Steve smiling and a giggle escaping your lips.

“Alright then,” the tech smiled. She moved the wand, then wrote something in the chart again. “You’re having a baby girl.”

The whole room erupted into excitement. But when Steve looked at you, it was like you were the only two people in the room.

“A daughter,” he said, like he was in awe. “We’re having a daughter.”

“Yeah, we are,” you said as the tears finally fell down your cheeks. Steve reached up and wiped them away with his thumb.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “This is the best day of my life. So far.”

That made your heart soar. You squeezed his hand again, and he held yours with both of his, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for this. This is the best gift I ever could have hoped for.”

“Steve…” you said, tears falling even faster now.

“Don’t cry, please.” He wiped your tears away again. “Just…thank you.”

After the ultrasound, the tech left and you were left waiting for the doctor. The room was buzzing with excitement over the news, everyone talking all at once.

“I can’t believe I’m having a granddaughter,” your mom said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Reminds me of when I was pregnant with you.”

You imagined what it might be like one day to be supporting your daughter - the one growing in your belly now, this tiny little creature. It was hard to imagine her as a real human being who would grow into her own person one day. You hoped she wouldn’t be having a baby in high school, at least.

“Yeah, well,” Steve said, “if any guy comes within 100 feet of her I’m beating him with a stick.”

“Ohmygod,” Carol said. “We have to go shopping. There’s so much cute stuff for baby girls. Do you have anything yet?”

“Not really,” you admitted. You had been mostly waiting for this appointment - it’s like it hadn’t felt real before. Now, it was real.

“That’s okay,” she said. “We’ll go get all kinds of stuff.”

Steve rubbed your belly as everyone kept talking, like he was in his own little world. Just him and his baby girl, moving beneath his palm. The movements were soothing, relaxing you.

Finally the doctor walked in, greeting everyone with a smile. She scanned through your chart before speaking. “I see you had some high blood pressure today.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’ve never had that before.”

“We’re going to keep an eye on that,” she said. “I want to see you here again next week, okay?”

“Next week?” you asked, confused. Your appointments had been monthly until now.

“Yes,” she said. “High blood pressure can be a sign of a lot of things, some small and some big. I just want to keep an eye on it.”

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked, interrupting the conversation. “Is she okay? Is the baby?”

“There’s no reason to worry right now,” she said, trying to calm Steve. “If there’s something more serious going on, we’ll catch it.”

Steve begrudgingly accepted that answer. He wasn’t trying to be a total asshole, he was just scared. But the appointment concluded after that, and then all of you were walking out of the building together.

“I’ll see you at home, honey,” your mom said, giving you a tight hug. “Drive home safe,” she added, pointing to Steve.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting.

“I’ll call you,” Carol said, pulling you into a hug. “Love you.”

When only you and Steve were left, he helped you into the car again. He started driving towards town. “How are you feeling? About all of this?”

“I’m happy,” you said, hand rubbing the bump. “Really happy,”

Steve shot you a smile before turning back to the road. “Me too.”

He pulled into the parking lot of the bakery. Inside you ordered two cupcakes with pink filling, ready for Steve’s parents to discover the news. It was hard not to take a bite as you left the bakery.

“I can pick you up tomorrow to come have dinner with us and…you know, tell them,” he said.

“Okay,” you agreed. You held the cupcakes safely on your lap as he drove you back home.

Your house wasn’t far. Your mom had had to go back to work and your didn’t hadn’t gotten off yet, so it was empty. Steve came in with you, following you as you deposited the cupcakes in the kitchen and then up to your bedroom, carrying your bag for you. He dropped it by the end of your bed where you always sat it. It was weird how he’d started to know you so well.

He approached you, placing both hands on your belly. It was so natural for him now, it was his favorite thing to do. He got down to his knees in front of you so he was face level with your belly.

“Hi, baby girl,” he said. Your heart thudded hard in your chest - he had never done something like this before. “I’m your daddy.” He rubbed a hand across your stomach, caressing it lovingly. “I love you very much already. Did you know that? I can’t wait to meet you.”

Tears sprung to your eyes. You quickly wiped them away, watching the moment between Steve and - your daughter.

“You be good for your momma, okay?” he continued. “She’s working hard growing you and finishing school at the same time. She’s the coolest. You’re going to love her.”

You could feel her wiggling around, kicking at Steve’s hand. His eyes went wide- “Did she just kick me??”

You laughed, amazed. “Yeah, I think she did.”

Steve was smiling so big, his own eyes welling with tears. He kissed your belly, rubbing where he had felt the kick. “I love you. I love you so much.”

When Steve stood again, he looked happy. So happy. It made your heart swell, too.

“I guess I gotta get going,” he said, looking like he absolutely did not want to go. “Still under curfew, and all.”

“Okay,” you begrudgingly agreed. You found yourself wanting to spend more time with Steve - and you already spent just about all your time together. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Steve’s face brightened at that reminder. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

He surprised you when he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly while still being careful of the bump. It felt like a loss when he pulled away, and then he was leaving, taking a piece of you with him.

—

The next day, Steve picked you up for dinner just as planned. You had the cupcakes ready to go. You were nervous, your hands shook as you buckled your seatbelt. Steve could sense your anxiety immediately, reaching over and taking your hand.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. They’re gonna be happy. The hard part is over.”

You tried to keep that in mind during the ride there. You were extra careful with the cupcakes, not allowing even a smidge of icing to be messed up. At the Harrington’s Steve came around and took them from you before helping you get up.

Inside the house smelled delicious once again. Roasted chicken this time, with potatoes and greens. Mrs. Harrington smiled as the two of you walked into the kitchen.

She greeted you by name, walking around the island bar to hold your hand in both of hers. “How are you feeling, darling? How’s the little one?”

“Good, and good,” you answered both her questions. She surprised you by placing a hand on your belly - you had yet to have anyone but Steve do that. It felt strange.

“What are these?” she asked, gesturing to the two boxes in Steve’s hand.

“We brought cupcakes…to announce the gender,” you explained.

“How cute!” She took them from Steve carefully, sitting them on the counter. “Richard should be down any minute now.”

Mr. Harrington came down the stairs as you were helping Mrs. Harrington set the table. He looked stern and unfriendly as ever, still dressed nicely in a button down and slacks. He greeted you shortly.

“Should we go ahead and do the reveal before dinner?” Mrs. Harrington asked. “I don’t think I can wait.”

“Sure, we can,” you said. Steve handed one of the boxes to his father and the other to his mom. The opened them, revealing the cutely decorated cupcakes with white icing and a baby rattle on top. 

“Ready?” Steve asked.

They took the small decoration off and peeled the paper from around the sweet bread. They exchanged a look before they bit into their cupcakes at the same time.

Mrs. Harrington lit up when she saw the pink filling, squealing and throwing her arms around Steve first, then you. “A granddaughter!!”

Mr. Harrington had…no reaction. In fact, he almost seemed displeased. “You knock a girl up and you couldn’t even have a son to carry on the Harrington name?”

Silence. “Dad-“

Mr. Harrington held a hand up, silencing Steve. But nothing more was said as everyone sat down to dinner in the awkward silence.

It was uncomfortable. Mr. Harrington was a total asshole, and his wife just let him without saying a word, leading to awkward moments like these. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know if there was anything to say.

When you and Steve left, he was apologetic. “I’m so sorry. He’s such an ass. I’m really sorry he ruined the whole thing.”

You shook your head as you climbed into the car. “It’s not your fault, Steve.”

“I know. It just…feels like it reflects back on me.”

“What do you mean?” you asked him as he began the drive home.

“Just that…it feels like people think I’m an asshole just like him. Or that I will be one day. And it’s embarrassing.”

You took his hand. “Steve, you’re nothing like your dad.”

He let out a long breath. “God. Thank you. For saying that.”

“Seriously,” you continued. “Nothing like him. You’re kind, and sweet, and caring, loyal, funny, reliable-“

“You think all those things about me?” Steve asked, goofy grin on his handsome face.

You blushed deeply. “I…”

“I think you’re great, too.” His eyes were on the road now. “The best, even. I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else.”

“Not even Nancy?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. “No. Not even Nancy.”

You wanted to say it then - I love you. But it didn’t come. You tried to work up the courage, but before you had the chance to, the car was coming to a stop outside your house.

Neither of you said anything at first, neither daring to move. Steve opened his mouth to say something, but just closed it again instead. He turned to you and gave you a smile that seemed rather forced.

“I’ll see you Monday,” he said. “Take care of yourself and our little nugget.”

“I will,” you agreed. You waited to see if he would say something else, but he didn’t. So you opened the door and climbed out (with some difficulty) and walked into your house.

Up in your room that night, you thought. You had much to think about, and your mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up. You were about to resort to counting sheep when your phone rang on your bedside table.

You snatched it off the receiver, hoping to hear one particular voice only. “Hello?”

“Uh, hey.” Just as if you had manifested it, Steve’s voice came from the other line.

“Hey,” you said, smiling like an idiot because he couldn’t see you. “What’s up?”

“I just…” he sighed. “I couldn’t sleep. And I wanted to talk to you.”

Butterflies took flight in your stomach and chest. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled lightly to himself. “I don’t have anything else. I didn’t exactly plan this far, I just picked up the phone.”

You couldn’t stop smiling. “What are you doing?”

“Just laying in bed…was trying to sleep, but…yeah.”

“I couldn’t sleep either,” you said. You didn’t admit that you had been longing to call him and hear his voice just as bad as he had for you.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“A little.” You rubbed your belly beneath your loose sleep shirt.

“Is there anything I can do to help? Anything I can get?”

You thought for a minute, smile on your lips. “Maybe one of those giant pregnancy pillows.”

“You got it.”

The baby kicked hard, and you moved your hand to where she was, letting out a little “Ooh.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said. “She’s just really active tonight.”

“Maybe she misses her dad.”

“Maybe she does.” There was a moment of silence over the line.

“Do you have any name ideas?” Steve asked out of the blue.

“Oh,” you said, question catching you off guard. “I haven’t really let myself think about it yet.”

“I like Elizabeth,” he offered. “Ellie.”

“That’s really cute.” You were surprised at how much you liked the name, since it was the first one either of you had brought up.

“Maybe Danielle.”

“I like that too, but I like Ellie better.”

“Me too.” You could hear the smile in Steve’s voice. “Elizabeth Harrington.”

Harrington. Your daughter will be a Harrington. You didn’t love the idea of having a different last name than her, but you didn’t want to revisit your dad’s insistence to get married.

“Elizabeth ‘Ellie’ Harrington. I like it.” You smiled too, but your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. It was hard to believe this little creature you’d been carrying around was a human being with a whole name and everything.

“What about her middle name?”

You thought. “Maybe Louise? After my grandmother?”

“Perfect. I love it.” Steve sounded infinitely happier than he had when you’d picked up the phone. He yawned, which made you yawn, too.

“I guess I’m gonna actually try to go to bed,” he said reluctantly. “Talking to you helped.”

“Glad I could be of service.” You twirled the phone cord around your finger. “I guess I should go to sleep, too.”

“Did talking to me make you feel better?

Yet another smile grew on your lips. “Yeah. It did.”

“Good. I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight.” The way your name sounded when it left his lips had you aching for him. In any way.

But instead you hung up the phone, wishing Steve was here with you instead of in his own house. You wished he was here to hold you, to cuddle you to sleep and keep you safe. You drifted asleep to thoughts of Steve in bed behind you.

—

“I can’t believe we’re graduating in 2 weeks,” Carol said, flipping through the racks of dresses. “It’s finally over.”

“Finally,” you agreed, because you were equally ready to be done with the halls of Hawkins High. Especially at 27 weeks, just about in the third trimester and absolutely huge. You waddled through the store behind Carol, your back aching horribly.

“Ooh, this one’s cute,” she said, pulling a white dress off the rack. You remembered a time when you could still fit in anything besides maternity clothes.

“That would look really good on you!” And you knew it was the truth. But everything looked good on Carol.

“We need to find you something,” she said. “You’ve got to look hot.”

“I don’t think that’s possible at this point,” you said, gesturing to the bump. 

“It’s definitely possible. You are hot.” Carol looked at you like this was obvious information. “We’re gonna find you a dress you feel beautiful in. I promise.”

After Carol decided on a dress, you moved on to a maternity store. Once again, the majority of the selection was, for lack of a better description, old lady clothes. You felt dejected as you and Carol looked through the racks, Carol scrunching her nose up at most of the options.

Until finally, she gasped, pulling out a white dress with lace over the bodice. “Oh, this is the one.”

It was pretty. You took it from her hands and examined it. You couldn’t believe how pretty it was, in this store surrounded by the ugliest clothes you’d ever seen. But here it was. “I need to try it on first.”

You weren’t hopeful as you and Carol walked to the changing rooms, and you especially weren’t hopeful as you undressed and saw yourself in the mirror. Your body had changed so much. It was unrecognizable. You felt self conscious constantly, like you were this huge fucking planet walking around and drawing everyone’s attention, and not in a good way.

You forced yourself to turn away and slip the dress over your head. It fit surprisingly well, hugging your breasts and chest tightly before flowing down over the bump. It stopped about at your knees. It did look really nice on you, you had to admit. It accentuated the bump in a flattering way, more like look how cute I am! than I’m trying to hide this huge thing under my clothes.

You stepped out of the changing room, and Carol gasped, clapping her hands together in approval. “Oh, this is the one, baby. You’re getting this one.”

The confidence this dress gave you made you feel as if you were glowing, the way they always said pregnant women did. You were disappointed to change back into your own clothes, but when you took the dress to the counter and bought it, it made you feel better.

Maybe graduation wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

The day of graduation, you were 29 weeks, everything was swollen and you were in pain. You were in a bad mood as your mom helped you get ready. You were already in your dress, doing your makeup in the mirror as your mom styled your hair for you.

“It’s going to be fine,” your mom said. “You’re gonna walk across that stage, get your diploma, and be done with it. And you have Steve and Carol with you.”

That was true. It was the only thing that made you feel better. You were humiliated at the thought of having to walk the stage with your huge belly, everyone knowing who you were and what you did. How you got here.

Steve came and picked you up since you didn’t want to be alone, your parents driving on their own in time for the ceremony. As graduates, you had to be there early. Steve held your hand the drive there, like he could sense how scared you were. Maybe it was obvious.

Carol pulled you into a tight hug when you and Steve entered the gymnasium, all set up with a stage and lots of seating. “You look beautiful. I knew you would.”

You blushed. “Thanks, Carol.”

“You do,” Steve agreed. With the way he was looking at you you could tell he was genuine. In fact, he was looking at you like you were the only person in the room full of a hundred Hawkins High graduates. It made your heart beat fast. His hand rested on your cheek, gently caressing the skin. You both totally forgot about Carol and Tommy standing right next to you, forgot that you were embarrassed to be here. All

there was was Steve, and god, you wanted to kiss him-

“Isn’t this sweet?”

Your stomach dropped.

“Nancy,” you said, turning and seeing her standing there, looking beautiful as she always did. Barb stood next to her, looking uncomfortable.

“What do you want, Wheeler?” Carol asked, her usual attitude back. The one you did not want to be on the other side of again.

“Just wanted to congratulate the new parents,” she said mockingly. “It’s almost time now, isn’t it?”

You didn’t know what to say. You knew she was being facetious, she didn’t actually care about the state of your pregnancy or the baby. But it was still so strange to have Nancy talking to you this way. Your long time best friend, the sweetest person you knew, turned into this.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “It is.”

“Are you two together yet?” she asked. “Or has Steve gone and knocked up another slut?”

“Oh, you bitch,” Carol said, pushing through to stand right in Nancy’s face. “Why don’t you go find Byers? You two have been getting pretty cozy even since before you and Steve broke up.”

Nancy’s jaw dropped. “You-“

“Nancy, I think you should go,” Steve said, stepping between the girls to put an end to this fight before it got out of hand. “You aren’t actually here to talk, so just go.”

She looked at Steve then with so much hurt in her eyes, you felt guilty all over again. “Sure, Steve. I hope you’re happy.”

Barbara put a hand on her back as they walked away, and you let out a deep breath. Steve pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “I just feel like the biggest backstabber on the planet.”

Steve sighed. He laid his head on top of yours. “You’re not a bad person, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. You knew it was just friendly, but the sound of the nickname gave you goosebumps anyway. You wanted so badly to tilt your head up and look into his deep brown eyes, to-

“Alright, everyone, we’re getting started! Get to your assigned places!”

Steve reluctantly pulled away from you with his hands on your upper arms. He looked you over again, his face creased with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “Now let’s go graduate.”

The ceremony was long and boring. You waited your turn until Principal Higgins reached your name on the alphabetical list, then you stood, smoothed your dress down over your belly, and walked to the stage with confidence.

You could hear your parents, Steve, Tommy, and Carol cheering for you louder than anyone. You blushed, but couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Principal Higgins handed you your diploma with a smile and a “Well done,” and that was that. You exited the stage and went back to your seat, watching the remaining students graduate.

When you tossed your hat into the air at the end of the ceremony, you felt more emotions than you’d expected to. School was really over. You couldn’t even remember a time before you were in school - it had been your whole life, and now it was over. Now you had much bigger, scarier things headed your way.

Steve’s parents threw a huge graduation party for him, and were kind enough to make it a joint party for the two of you (at Steve’s insistence). There were a lot of guests, lots of Steve’s family you didn’t know and a lot of friends and acquaintances from school. You were glad Tommy and Carol were there.

You entertained yourself with the buffet table - still very much eating for two, after all. Steve stayed by your side, introducing you to his distant family members. They all looked at your belly before they met your eyes. You had grown used to that treatment.

“I’m really proud of you,” Steve said when the two of you caught a moment alone. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s really impressive that you finished school with…everything going on.”

You shook your head. “It’s really not that impressive.”

“It is, and you should be proud of yourself.” Steve looked at you for a minute. He stepped closer to you, his hand coming to rest on the side of your face. He caressed your cheek, his eyes staring deeply into yours. Your heart stuttered in your chest - were you even still breathing? He parted his lips, moving closer and closer.

He pressed his lips to your forehead, leaving a lingering kiss there. Your heart sunk - you felt like an idiot for thinking that he had feelings for you, that he was going to kiss you. Your cheeks heated with embarrassment, even though Steve had no idea what you’d been thinking he was about to do.

You spent the rest of the party feeling like an absolute fool for wishing for something that would never happen.

At the end of the party, Steve and Carol both gave you a big hug. Even Tommy joined in. Besides your own angst, it was hard not to smile when you were surrounded by these people you loved - your found family.

You rode home in the passenger seat of your mom’s car, your dad sitting in the back to give you the extra space. You watched out the window, and you thought not about your high school career coming to an end, or the baby on the way, or the situation with Nancy and Barb. You thought about Steve.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

—

You put the brochure down in front of Steve. “I signed us up.”

He picked up the paper, examining it. “‘Lamaze’? What the fuck is Lamaze?”

“It’s a birthing class,” you said, although you thought he would have gotten the hint from the pictures of smiling pregnant women and dads on the front.

“A birthing class?”

“Yes, Steve. I’m 32 weeks pregnant. This baby is coming soon, and I want to be ready.” Truth be told, you were terrified. Any amount of preparation would be better than your current state.

“I- we just- well, yeah,” he said, stumbling over his words. “It’s just-“

“What?”

Steve let out a deep breath. “It’s really coming soon, huh?” You softened as you could physically feel the anxiety radiating off his form where he sat across from you at the diner. He was jittery, bouncing his leg and fiddling with his hands.

“Yeah. Really soon,” you said, not mincing any words. “But we’ve got this. We’ve had months to prepare, we have a couple more to go. The baby has been healthy, I’ve been healthy besides the blood pressure. We have the big stuff - crib, stroller, car seat. The baby shower is in 3 weeks. We’re doing okay.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re doing okay.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“We just need to be ready for the birth, you know?” you continued. “Neither of us has ever done this before.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair, longer now than when you’d met. It suited him. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

“You were gonna go with me either way.”

He laughed. “I’ll pretend I had a choice.”

The class was that Thursday. You had been staying home since graduation, while Steve had started working with his dad. It wore him out and he kind of hated it, but it was worth it for the benefits and pay. It was really the only option to take care of the three of you.

Steve picked you up after work, still dressed in his button down and tie, loosened around his neck. He smiled at you tiredly - “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. How was work?”

“Boring. Long.” He sighed as he pulled away from the curb and drove towards the hospital the class was being held at. It was the same hospital you’d be delivering at. “I hate it.”

“I know,” you said quietly. There was nothing to be done about it, though. It didn’t stop the guilt from eating at you.

At the hospital Steve helped you get out of the car, since you were officially too big to do it yourself now. Once you were down, you were stuck without help. It made you feel useless. He put his hand on your back as you waddled inside and signed in.

The goal was to give birth without the epidural. You weren’t sure how well that was going to go for you, but you were doing everything in your power to be prepared and have the best chance of making it without the medication.

You took a seat on one of the mats, Steve helping to lower you to the ground. He sat next to you, looking awkward as he looked around at all the other couples. Not that you were a couple.

The class started with relaxation exercises. Steve sat behind you, rubbing your shoulders and back as you tried to mentally get in the zone - meditating and doing deep breathing exercises along with the instructor.

The next thing they did was play a childbirth video.

Steve turned so pale you thought he would pass out. His eyes were glued to the screen, staring in absolute horror. His jaw was dropped, like he never expected childbirth to be this graphic- or dramatic.

After the video, the instructor talked some about the birthing process. You and Steve both listened intently, Steve even taking notes in a little notebook he brought along with him. It was cute.

After the lecture portion of the class, the instructor started leading you through labor breathing exercises.

“Alright, dads,” she said in her soothing voice, clapping her hands together. “Sit behind mom and hold her - hands on the belly for support - now breathe in and out with me, just like this.”

You followed her example, breathing in quickly three times then a long breath out. You repeated the exercise over and over along with the rest of the class, Steve’s strong hands on you as he breathed along with you. It was intimate. You leaned back into his touch and his body molded around yours.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered in your ear. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Keep breathing just like that. You’re gonna kick ass.”

Steve’s words were encouraging. It wasn’t exactly the method the other dads in the room were using, including more swearing than anyone else, but it worked.

The instructor taught the dads a lot of ways to support their partners, and Steve was paying full attention. Then she instructed everyone to stand - Steve pulled you up - and had the dads stand behind their partner.

“This has nothing to do with birthing techniques,” the woman said with a smile, “it’s just a moment of relief for our moms.”

Steve followed her steps and wrapped his arms around you, hands beneath your belly. Then, on the count of 3, he lifted up slightly, holding the weight of the baby. You could have cried from relief - your back hadn’t felt better in months. You hadn’t realized how much weight you’d been carrying around.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve huffed. “You carry all this around all day??”

After the short break, she went on to talk about newborn care. Steve changed his first diaper on a doll, which went about as well as you could expect, but you knew he’d be a fast learner.

Steve left the class with a newfound appreciation for you and everything you’d been going through and would go through. He was extra attentive as he helped you into the car.

“Want me to pick up some food on the way home?” he asked, turning the key in the ignition and starting the BMW.

“God, you read my mind.”

—

You were 35 weeks when your baby shower finally came around, absolutely huge and miserable. I mean huge. You didn’t even think it was possible to become so round, yet here you were.

You had started to be in a pretty bad mood all the time since being so heavily pregnant. You were, frankly, over it. Everything hurt, you felt like you took up so much space and looked like garbage, you couldn’t breathe, and there were no comfortable positions left.

Carol helped you dress in your long pink dress, the fabric hanging flatteringly along your body. You actually looked beautiful - it had been a long time since you felt beautiful.

“Look at you,” Carol said, a huge smile on her face as she looked you over. She looked as if she might cry. “I can’t believe it’s finally here.”

“I look huge,” you said, turning each way in the mirror.

“You look like a mom,” she said. “Very womanly. I dig it.”

You laughed at that, smoothing your hands over the belly. You actually didn’t feel bad.

“Steve’s going to lose his mind.”

You froze.

“What?” Carol asked, mockingly innocent. “You think I haven’t noticed how into him you are? Or how into you he is?”

“He is not into me,” you said quickly.

“Yes, he is. I’ve known Steve since elementary school. I’ve been friends with Steve since elementary school.” Carol looked at you pointedly. “He is head over heels for you, girl.”

“He just cares about me because I’m carrying his baby. It’s nothing more than that.”

“Tell yourself that if you want,” she shrugged.

You tried to push her words out of your head as you finished getting ready for the party. They were still lingering in your head when you walked into Steve’s large immaculate living room, to a room full of people you loved and some you vaguely knew.

You weren’t usually one to be the center of attention. You’d spent most of your life flying under the radar, not drawing any extra attention to yourself. But the baby shower was like having a spotlight on you, everyone looking at you and your belly and knowing how you got here. Even if they didn’t know the Nancy part, everyone here knew you and Steve were teen parents after a hookup and weren’t even together.

You happily helped yourself to the food, however. Your and Steve’s moms, with the help of Carol, had really outdone themselves. It was the fanciest baby shower you’d ever seen.

There was a beautiful rocking chair with a bow on it by the gift table. You wiped tears away as you removed it and sat down in the chair with Steve beside you. Carol began bringing you gifts, opening one after another of baby clothes and diapers and supplies you had been panicked about being able to afford. It only made you cry harder.

“There’s one more,” Steve said after you opened the last gift. The whole room of people watched intently, which made you uncomfortable, but Steve always made you feel like you were the only two people in the world.

He moved to the table and grabbed a card. It was tucked neatly in a dark green envelope, and it was thick, like there was something inside. You looked at Steve curiously. “What is this?”

“You have to open it and see,” he laughed.

You gave him a playfully cautious look before you started to break the seal on the envelope. You pulled out a pink card decorated with baby rattles and diapers and cribs. Slowly you opened it, and your jaw dropped.

There was a key taped inside. And on the other side, written in Steve’s messy scrawl:

My gift to you. Thank you for everything you do. You are my best friend and you are going to be the best mom this world has ever seen. I can’t wait to watch it happen.

Welcome home.

The tears were falling freely now. “Steve- is this-?”

“The key to our new apartment,” he finished for you. “I’ve been looking for months and I finally found one we can afford that looks incredible. Two bedrooms. A place for us to make our own.”

“Steve-“ you cried, but it was barely audible through the tears. You weren’t even thinking about how there was a room full of people watching you cry. “You shouldn’t-“

“What, shouldn’t have gotten us a place to live together like a real family?” He chuckled. “Let yourself be happy, sweetheart. You deserve this.”

The whole room of people were watching, some tearing up at the affectionate display. Steve must have been saving up for this since he got the job with his dad, not spending a single cent on anything for himself. His selflessness never ceased to amaze you, even though you should be used to it by now.

The baby shower was a huge success. You got everything you needed. You were in tears by the time the party was over, giving everyone a hug and all your gratitude as they left. When the guests were gone, you were left alone with Steve and both of your parents.

“You have until this weekend to move out,” Mr. Harrington said to Steve. “I’m not supporting you with a kid on the way.”

The whole vibe in the room shifted. What was once full of joy and happiness was now awkward and stilted. Mr. Harrington had brought the mood down once again.

“You know,” your mother said, “I think you should be proud of them. Sure, they got themselves into a mess, but look at them.” She looked at Steve with a smile, then at you with so much emotion in her eyes. “They’re doing great for themselves. Graduated, a good job, an apartment. They’re going to be okay. I believe in them.”

No one said anything at first. Your mom wrapped her arm around you, pulling you close like she often did when you were half her height. Finally, Mr. Harrington cleared his throat.

“Well. Isn’t that sweet. And naive.”

He turned and left before anyone could say anything else. You could tell your mom was pissed - she wasn’t one to be walked over. But for your sake, she didn’t push it.

“I…” Mrs Harrington began. “I’m…sorry, about him.”

Her words caught you off guard. Even Steve was surprised. He’d never heard her speak against his father before. She pulled Steve into a hug, holding him tight.

“I’m proud of you, son. You’re going to be a great father.”

Steve held her back, the emotions in the room now even more heightened, but not in the way they had been before Steve’s father left. This was better. This was love.

Steve held you tightly when you were on the way out the door with your parents. “I’ll come pick you up this weekend and we’ll move. Well, I’ll move. You can sit and look pretty while telling me where things go.”

Pretty?

“Okay,” you giggled, ignoring that part of what he said. “Bye, Steve.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

—

Saturday, it was moving time. Just about everyone was pitching in to help - Steve’s mom, your parents, Tommy and Carol. Steve and Tommy carried the couch in and sat it in the living room, and that became your command center for the rest of the day.

You sat down, aching feet up on the coffee table they brought in shortly after. You watched the bustle around you as everyone carried box after box, furniture after furniture. Steve and Tommy got into an argument trying to get the bed frame into the bedroom door, until your dad came over and showed them how to turn it.

After the main furniture was up, you were able to get up and start decorating. You had been longing to nest, body itching to get ready for the baby. It was instinctual, all you could think about was preparing for this baby.

Everyone brought in the boxes from the baby shower. You set up in the nursery with Carol while everyone else finished up.

“We’re getting Steve and Tommy to figure this out,” Carol said, examining the crib manual with her nose scrunched up. “Because I have no fucking idea what this is telling me to do.”

When the rest of the furniture and boxes were moved, your parents began unpacking them while Tommy and Steve joined you and Carol.

“What is this, fuckin’, physics?” Tommy said, the instructions in his hands now. Steve snatched them from him.

“Let me see.”

An hour later and the crib still wasn’t finished, Steve and Tommy arguing every two seconds. You and Carol were opening the baby shower gifts and finding them a place in the room.

“I can’t believe how tiny these clothes are,” Carol gushed, holding them up and looking at them with heart eyes. “I want one.”

“Uh, you can forget about that one,” Tommy said.

You had asked for books instead of cards from your guests, so you had a large selection of baby books you slid onto the wall shelf. Carol cut the tags off the baby clothes and fit them onto the tiny hangers, folding the ones that went in the drawers.

When you were done, it looked like a proper nursery. The dark brown crib had a sheet on it, a personalized blanket hanging over the side. The books and clothes were put away. The stroller was in the closet, car seat ready to be installed in Steve’s car. There was a bouncer and baby swing, a collection of breastfeeding supplies, a changing table and plenty of diapers to get you started.

“Not long now,” Steve said when you were left alone in the apartment, standing in the nursery together and looking at what you’d done together. He rubbed his hand over your large belly, feeling Ellie kicking him. He smiled. He was happy.

—

“Oh my god,” Carol said, holding up a tiny frilly dress. “This is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The cashier gave her a disapproving look.

“There’s so many clothes,” you said, running your hand through the rack. “Will she need a lot of clothes?”

“Oh, yeah,” Carol said. “My little brother went through like, 5 outfits a day. Poop and throw up and all that.”

“Ugh.” You both laughed, browsing the store’s selection. There were way more baby girl clothes than baby boy clothes. But you thought about the future - maybe you’d be back one day shopping for a baby boy.

“Oh my god, look at this!” She held up another pink dress, a white bow around it. “You have to get this one. Ellie’s going to look so cute.”

The dress was extremely cute. You took it from Carol’s hands. You put it in your basket - she was right, Ellie had to have it. 

You were just looking at another section of clothes when you felt a gush between your legs.

You gasped. “Carol-!”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh my god. Did what I think just happened just happen?”

“I-I think so,” you said. “But it’s early. It’s too early.”

“You’re 35 weeks right??”

“Yes.” You bent over as a strong contraction wracked through your body. You breathed out a rush of air, groaning as you held onto the rack with one hand and your belly with the other.

That’s when you noticed the blood. A lot of it.

The cashier came rushing over to you. “Ma’am? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

You nodded, words unable to come with the amount of pain you were in, the fear struck deep into your chest. Carol was panicking.

The woman ran back to the phone and called 911, while Carol helped you find a place to sit. You sat on the chair, but quickly realized that wasn’t helping at all. You stood and began pacing, doing your breathing exercises like you’d learned in class. Tears streamed down your face, not from the pain, but from the pure horror, the fear that your baby wouldn’t be okay.

When the paramedics arrived, they got you on the stretcher immediately and prepared to rush you to the hospital. Carol jumped in the back with you, holding your hand.

“Hey. You’re doing great. You’re doing so good. Everything’s gonna be okay. We’ll call Steve at the hospital, okay? Then he’ll be there and the doctors can help you and everything will be fine.” Carol was rambling, her hand shaking in yours.

At the hospital you were brought upstairs immediately, changed into a gown and hooked up to monitors. Your blood pressure was still high and you were still

bleeding. They rushed an ultrasound machine into the room, beginning the exam as Carol called Steve.

“Steve?” Carol said into the phone. “She- she’s in labor. Yes, I’m sure. We know it’s early. There’s…there’s a lot of blood. We’re already at the hospital. Okay. By-“ She put the phone down. “He’s on his way. He hung up on me.”

Carol was helping you through your breathing exercises, trying to keep you calm as much as she could. You could tell she was freaked out, but she was being a good friend. The best, really.

The doctors finished their exam and determined you had experienced placental abruption.

“This is very, very serious,” the doctor said. “We’re going to prepare you for a C-section now.”

You didn’t want that. You didn’t want any of this. You had spent so long preparing for birth, preparing your pain management exercises and everything for the natural birth of your dreams. But anything to give Ellie the best chance of survival. You were getting woozy from the blood loss.

“Wait,” you said weakly as they put a cap over your hair and prepared to rush you to the OR. “Steve-“

“We have to take you for surgery right now,” one of the nurses said. “I don’t want to alarm you, but this is very serious. We can’t wait for anyone.”

You started crying again. None of this was happening the way you’d hoped. As they wheeled you out into the hall, you heard footsteps running down the hall. You turned your head, relieved to see a panicked Steve rushing to your side, still dressed in his nice clothes from work.

“I’m here,” he said, grabbing your hand. “I’m here.”

“Sir, we’re taking her for an emergency C-section right now,” the nurse said. “Someone will get you some scrubs and you can meet us in there.”

Steve reluctantly watched them take you, feeling helpless as he was left behind.

You were still out of it as they brought you into the freezing cold operating room, moving you onto the metal table covered in a sheet. There was a curtain separating your chest from the rest of your body, preventing you from seeing what was going on.

They put an oxygen mask on you and administered medication into your IV. It wasn’t long before you couldn’t feel anything below your arms anymore. Your vision was hazy, and all of a sudden you weren’t worried about anything anymore.

Steve rushed into the room dressed in hospital scrubs with a hair cap matching yours. The fear in his eyes was evident, and they were red as if he’d been crying. “Sweetheart,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead and holding your hand. “I’m here. Everything is gonna be okay. The doctors are gonna help you and Ellie is gonna be here in our arms soon, healthy and beautiful.” It wasn’t clear who he was trying to convince.

You were out of it, not feeling a thing as they made the incision. Steve was freaking out, his hand shaking where it held one of yours that was strapped down. It felt like it was only seconds before the sound of crying filled the room.

Steve huffed a disbelieving breath, a smile on his face as he cried and looked at the tiny little baby with complete awe. The nurses cleaned her up, checking her out to make sure she was okay. She was so tiny, wiggling and crying. You had never seen something so small, so delicate.

The nurse wrapped her in a hospital blanket, putting a soft cap on her head full of brown hair. She brought her over to you and Steve as the doctors continued working on you, trying to stop the bleeding unbeknownst to you.

Steve took her from the nurse’s arms with all the gentleness of a brand new dad. He was shaking as he pushed the blanket down slightly to uncover her angelic face. Her eyes were closed, content in her father’s arms. He leaned over and held her down for you to see.

“Look,” Steve said gently. “Look what we did.”

You couldn’t stop the tears as you saw your daughter for the first time. She was perfect. Chubby little cheeks, pouty lips, button nose. She looked like the perfect mix of you and Steve.

“Hi, Ellie,” you whispered, your voice weak. “You are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Steve chuckled, a tear escaping from his eye and rolling down his cheek. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Perfect.”

—

Elizabeth Louise Harrington was born healthy, 6 lbs 7 oz. She only needed a short time in the nicu before they discharged her. You spent every waking moment in a wheelchair by her bassinet, holding and rocking her, taking turns with Steve, who was there the second he got off work.

Your mom was the first one to visit. She had hurried to the hospital as soon as Carol called her to tell her what had happened. She cried, a lot. But when she held her granddaughter in her arms, everything in the world was right.

Your dad came after work, smiling down at the tiny bundle in his wife’s arms. He put a hand on your shoulder, and looked at Steve. “You did good, kids.”

Steve’s mom was there shortly after. She cooed at the tiny baby, walking around the room and rocking her like a total natural. It may have been 18 years since she’d done this, but her instinct never left. His father never came.

That evening, once both of your parents had left, Tommy and Carol came over. “Oh my goddd!” Carol squealed quietly, coming over to you with her arms outstretched. “Let Auntie Carol see that perfect baby.”

Carol sat next to you on the bed as you handed the baby to her. She was so gentle as she took Ellie into her arms, bouncing her softly and cooing. “Look at you, pretty girl. Gonna be just as beautiful as your mama.”

Tommy took a seat on the room’s couch next to Steve. “Congrats, man,” he said, slapping Steve on the back.

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly.

“How do you like being a dad?”

Steve looked over at you, Ellie, and Carol on the bed, and he smiled. His chest felt warm and fuzzy, his heart soaring. “It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

They let you both go home from the hospital a week later. Steve took a week off of work to help you out, but that’s all his dad was willing to give him. You tucked Ellie safely into her car seat, buckling her in safely. Steve was so paranoid about hurting her.

The nurse pushed you out of the hospital in a wheelchair while Steve carried the baby carrier to his car. He hooked it into the backseat, and helped you climb into the back next to her. You weren’t ready to let her ride back there alone yet.

Steve drove home at a snail’s pace. The other cars on the road honked at you, but Steve didn’t care. All he cared about was getting his girls home safely.

He carried the carrier in one hand while he helped you walk your sore body into the apartment with his other. He got you comfortable on the couch before taking a sleeping Ellie out of her seat. He bounced her gently as he walked around the room.

It was so strange to be here, in this home, with your family. Your family, the one you created. Steve, and the baby girl you’d created together.

Only you and Steve weren’t together.

Steve hadn’t talked about girls at all since you’d been pregnant. You had taken his full attention. But what about when he decided he wanted to date again? How would you handle that? The thought filled you with dread.

Because you were starting to feel something for Steve that scared you.

You spent the first week home on the couch mostly. Steve brought you everything you needed, while helping you move a little more each day. You were still so sore from surgery, but you were determined to be ready to care for Ellie on your own when Steve went back to work.

Steve’s first diaper change had been an experience. He gagged, being dramatic as hell while you watched on and laughed. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, bud.”

“This is foul. How does such a tiny little thing poop so much?”

You had a newborn photo shoot scheduled 2 weeks after you came home. You dressed Ellie in a tiny dress, you and Steve dressing in matching nice clothes.

“Okay, mom and dad,” the photographer said. “Why don’t you get close and hold her between you?”

Steve moved close to you, holding Ellie between your bodies. The sleeping newborn cradled perfectly in your arms together, the photos were taken. You had chills at the proximity. You found that you liked being close to Steve. You liked it a lot.

That night, you got Ellie settled and laid her down in her crib. You were exhausted, as you always were these days. “I’m ready for bed,” you told Steve, yawning big.

“Me too,” he said. “Go on and get ready and I’ll be in soon.”

Since the apartment only had two bedrooms, you and Steve had agreed to share the bed. It was purely platonic, of course, even though you often woke up with Steve’s arm wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in your neck as he snored lightly. You never moved him when that happened.

After you’d had a shower and gotten in bed, Steve came and did the same before joining you. You both drifted off to sleep so fast, as you always did these days.

It was 3am when you were woken by the baby monitor. You picked it up, seeing Ellie fussing. You sighed - you never minded taking care of her, but you were just so tired tonight. You were getting up when Steve stopped you.

“I got it,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “You go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You have work tomorrow.”

“I’m sure. Get some rest, please.”

You watched Steve leave, wondering how you got so lucky.

Steve went into the nursery, scooping a crying Ellie from her crib. “Hi, baby girl,” he said quietly. “Are you hungry? Let’s go warm you up a bottle.”

You had a supply of pumped milk so Steve could feed her, too. He went into the kitchen with the baby in his arms, making the bottle one handed like a pro. He settled into the recliner and rocked as he fed the bottle to Ellie, who was snuggled against his shirtless chest.

He was so sleepy, but he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

A month into her life, Ellie started crying constantly. It was like there was nothing you could do to calm her. It broke your heart to see her so upset, like she was in pain. Steve was stressing out hard.

“What do we do??” he asked, pacing and running his hands through his hair. “What’s wrong with her? Why won’t she calm down?”

A trip to the doctor later, Ellie had a diagnosis of colic. You were basically told there was nothing you could do, it was just something that had to run its course. Nevertheless, you both put your all into trying to make her feel better. Making sure she burped well after eating, giving her gas drops, walking the hall with her at night for hours until she finally fell asleep. Steve never once complained. He was so devoted to his daughter, it made your chest ache with love.

Love.

One of those nights, when Ellie was 7 weeks old and after she had finally fallen asleep, you and Steve collapsed on the couch, exhausted. You laid your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around you.

“You okay?” he asked you quietly.

“Yeah,” you said. “What about you?”

“I’m good. I’m happy.” He smiled down at you. “I know this is hard, but I love being a dad. I love my girl. Both of my girls.”

There was that word again. Love.

“Steve,” you started, sitting up on the couch and turning to face him as you talked. “What do you want for your future?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“Like, what do you want? Where do you want to be?”

“I want to be right here,” he said easily.

“No, but, you know what I mean. For the future. Do you want to get married to someone? Have more kids?”

Steve smiled. “Definitely. I want a big family.”

“Yeah? Even after all this?” you laughed sleepily.

“Of course. I want like, six kids.”

“Jesus.”

Steve laughed. “And…I don’t want to marry ‘someone’.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You don’t want to get married?”

“No, I mean, of course I do.” He seemed flustered, something you didn’t see from him often. “I just…it’s someone in particular.”

Your heart sunk. Nancy, you thought. He had never gotten over her. He was still in love with Nancy.

“You. I want to marry you.”

You froze. You were sure you were just hearing things, going crazy from the lack of sleep and hearing the things you wanted to hear. He had not just said that. “What?” you said, the only thing you could think to say.

“I…” He leaned forward, placing his hand on the side of your face so you were looking at him. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

You gaped at him like an idiot. “Steve…”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…I’ve been waiting for the right moment for months, and I just-“

You cut him off by leaning forward and pressing your lips onto his.

Steve wasted no time in kissing you back, pulling you closer to him, closer and closer until you were straddling his lap as his arms wrapped around you and your lips worked together. You moaned against his lips, which drove Steve absolutely crazy.

He put his hands on your ass, grinding you against his lap. He was hard already, like he wanted you bad. Hell, you wanted him just as bad. He groaned into your mouth as your tongues started working together, his hands sliding up and down your body and feeling every part of you.

“God, you-“ he said, totally breathless and pupils blown wide in lust. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”

That was hard to believe, especially when he’d been so head over heels for Nancy, who in your mind was so much prettier and better than you. But you could tell he was telling the truth.

“I love you,” you said between kisses, finally saying the words that had been on the tip of your tongue for months and months. “I love you. I love you.”

Steve groaned and held you even closer, his erection pressing up against you. It made you impossibly wet, grinding down onto him. You’d only had sex the one time in your life, and you’d thought about it every day since it happened.

“Can I take you to the room?” Steve asked, his voice low as he toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Our room?”

“Yes,” you told him, wanting nothing more.

He lifted you up with little effort, carrying you into the bedroom while you wrapped your arms and legs around him. He carefully laid you down on the bed, careful of your stitches. He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor before crawling over you still in his pajama pants.

He kissed all over your neck, making you whine, pulling slightly on his hair which made him groan. His hands slowly slid beneath your shirt, pushing it up and up until he took it completely off. You immediately covered your body up with your arms.

“Baby…” Steve murmured. “What are you doing?”

“I just…” you let out a breath. “My body is a lot different than the last time you saw it.”

Steve looked almost hurt. “Baby. You are beautiful. You carried and birthed my child. You could not be any hotter to me.”

Steve’s words almost had you tearing up, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment. You slowly lowered your arms, revealing your body to him. True to his word, Steve looked at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes.

He kissed all over your body, your stomach, your chest, your neck, your lips. He was worshipping your body, loving every single part of it. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

He started kissing down your body, down between your legs, but you stopped him. “I just want you,” you said, your voice coming out more whiney and pleading than you meant.

Steve smirked. He pulled your pants and panties off the rest of the way. “Well, you have me.”

He pushed his own pants and boxers down, his large election springing free. He was even more massive than you remembered from your drunken night together. It was intimidating.

Steve kissed you on the lips again, a slow, loving, sensual kiss. You felt his tip at your entrance as he rubbed it between your folds, getting his cock nice and wet. “Are you ready?” he asked you, so quiet. You nodded.

He pushed inside, the stretch taking your breath away. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he set a slow pace, his face buried in your neck as he groaned in pleasure. “Jesus,” he moaned. “You are so tight. Feels so good.”

“You’re…huge, Steve,” you whined, making him chuckle breathlessly.

“Is it okay? Is it too much? Should I stop?”

“No, no,” you said quickly. “Keep going. Please.”

Steve obeyed, rocking his hips into you at a slightly

faster pace. The old bed creaked lightly beneath your movements, the headboard knocking into the wall. “Fuck, fuck,” he moaned. “God. I’m not gonna last long. It’s been so long, and you feel like heaven. My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Oh, Steve,” you moaned, back arching as he hit that bundle of nerves deep inside. “Feels good. Keep going just like that.”

He intertwined your fingers together above your head, his left hand holding onto your hip. He thrusted into you faster, faster, faster, making the hottest, most sinful noises as he neared release.

“I’m getting close,” he said, hips snapping against you. “Oh, fuck.” He readjusted so he had a hand to lean on while the other dipped between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

“Oh!” you moaned at the sudden feeling, pussy clenching around Steve’s cock and making him let out the most pathetic whimper.

“Jesus- Jesus Christ,” he said, breathless. “You’re killin’ me.”

“I’m really close, Steve,” you whined, writhing under him. “Really close.”

“Go ahead and cum for me, sweetheart,” he coaxed. “Let me feel it. Make a mess all on my cock for me.”

Your lips parted in a gasp, eyes rolling back as an orgasm crashed into you. Your pussy clenched around his cock tightly, and Steve cried out, his hips stuttering into you. The second you came down from your orgasm he pulled out, jerking his cock a couple times before he shot ropes of his cum all over your stomach and tits, groaning as he watched. He came so much, covering you in it.

He admired his work for a few seconds as he caught his breath. He had never seen anything hotter. When he was finally back to earth, he hopped off the bed and ran into the attached bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to clean you up. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“It’s okay,” you said with a giggle. “That was hot.”

Once you were cleaned up, he collapsed into the bed with you, both still naked. Wrapping his arm around you, he pulled you close into him, spooning you and snuggling his face into the back of your neck.

“I love you,” he said. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Steve. So much.”

—

Things found their version of normal eventually. It helped when you could start getting out of the house with Ellie, just getting some fresh air and seeing the outside world. Carol came over a lot, so it wasn’t like you had been totally lonely, but there’s nothing like going out in public.

Ellie was 5 months old. You and Steve had been officially together for 4ish months, and it was going amazing. You had never been happier. You had driven yourself and Ellie to Bradley’s Big Buy on your own for the first time since her birth.

“You wanna ride in the cart?” you asked her, earning a big grin from the baby even though she had no idea what you’d said. You settled her into the front of the cart - taking the time to disinfect it with wipes first. Ellie held onto the bar as you pushed her into the store.

Bread…milk…pasta…dish soap…diapers.

You began grabbing the things you needed, Ellie totally amazed at the world around her. It was adorable to see. But just as you grabbed the bread and were about to leave the aisle, you nearly bumped into someone.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you said. “I didn’t-“

Nancy.

You froze, just staring at her. She looked different. She had a perm now, and it really suited her. She looked beautiful as she always did.

“It’s…it’s okay,” she said, her eyes roaming to Ellie in the cart. Ellie smiled big at her, and Nancy couldn’t help but return it.

“How…how have you been?” you asked her, unsure if she wanted to talk to you at all.

“Oh. I’ve been good. I got a job at the newspaper. Me and Jonathan just got an apartment together.” She smiled gently.

“That’s great,” you said, and you meant it. You were happy to see her doing well, to see her happy. “I’m glad things are going well for you.”

“Yeah,” she said. “How- how are you?”

You were surprised she asked. “I’m doing well. Recovered from surgery now and everything. Ellie’s doing fantastic.”

“I’m really happy to hear that,” she said, and she seemed genuine. “I heard it was a rough birth.”

“Yeah.” Ellie reached for you, and you grabbed her hand, letting her wrap her tiny fingers around yours. “But, you know, it was worth it. To have her.”

Nancy nodded. “I’m sure.” A pause. “How’s Steve?”

“He’s great. Working for his dad now.” You debated whether to continue. “We, uh…we’ve been together for about 4 months now.”

“Oh,” she said. She didn’t seem upset, like she had expected that. “I’m happy for you both. Steve’s…he’s a good guy.”

You smiled. “Yeah. He is.”

There was a moment of silence between you before Nancy shook her head. “Well. I need to get going, I’m just picking up lunch for the staff. It was…it was good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, Nance.”

She gave you a polite smile before pushing her cart off. You watched her go, her curly hair disappearing into another aisle.

You weren’t sure what to make of the interaction. She certainly didn’t seem like she hated you anymore. But you knew you would never be friends again, and that part broke your heart.

Maybe there was progress to be made.

—

Life with Steve and Ellie was wonderful. Steve was an amazing dad- the best. He was also an amazing boyfriend. He made you feel loved and cherished, safe and cared for.

He worked with Ellie every day, first down on the floor with her for tummy time, then once she mastered that and grew older, he did his best to teach her how to crawl.

“You know, I crawled backwards as a baby,” he said randomly one day.

“Huh?”

“It’s true,” he said. “I just…” He held his hands up and mimicked crawling backwards.

You laughed hard. “That is so Steve.”

“What does that mean??”

At Christmas, he went all out. He spoiled her as much as he could afford, even though he knew she wouldn’t remember a thing about it or even understand it. Christmas day Steve was the one to wake you up bright and early- “It’s Christmas!!!”

You drank some coffee, taking pictures while Steve sat on the floor with Ellie, helping her open her presents. She was delighted with everything she opened, and you and Steve had a blast watching her enjoy Christmas.

Her first birthday party was a whole occasion, too. It was at the Harrington’s, since they had so much space. Even Steve’s dad softened in the presence of Ellie Harrington. Steve cried when everyone sang her happy birthday.

When you had been together for a year, Steve asked your mom to babysit so he could take you out for dinner to celebrate your anniversary. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going, but told you to dress fancy.

You wore a red dress that hugged your curves in the most perfect way. Steve nearly started drooling when he saw you. But you felt the same way about him, dressed up nice.

He took you to Enzo’s, a place you’d never been. “Get anything you want,” he said. “I don’t want you to worry about the price tonight.”

You tried your best to ignore the exorbitant prices as you scanned the menu, eventually deciding on a chicken alfredo. The food was delicious, you practically moaned when you took your first bite.

“I would order us some wine, but I get the feeling they won’t fall for my fake ID here,” Steve said, making you laugh. You drank sparkling water instead, still in the fancy spirit.

After dinner you shared a piece of chocolate cake. You speared a bite onto your fork and held it out to Steve, who happily opened his mouth to let you feed it to him before he did the same to you. You giggled, feeling both very grown up and also like a couple of kids.

After you finished dessert, you were full. You were ready to get the check and head home back to Ellie when Steve spoke up, saying your name.

“Baby,” he said. “I…I wanted to ask you something.”

You looked at him curiously. “What is it?”

He reached into his pocket, then stood. When he got down on one knee, you gasped, covering your mouth with your hands, the tears falling already.

He said your full name, looking deep into your eyes as he opened the box, revealing the most beautiful diamond ring you’d ever laid eyes on. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes! Oh my god, yes yes yes.”

Steve smiled as he slipped the ring onto your finger - a perfect fit. He stood and pulled you into a kiss as the entire restaurant clapped for you - a literal dream come true.

Forever with the love of your life.

Stay tuned for the sequel baby daddy series!!

tag list

@crispystarfishhottub @luveediary @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @melaninjhs @talkativecarnation @cherrypieyourface @lanalosty0uu @rubythornexxx @meeuhsworld

[cherry-hulu]

— Side 2 Side

Synopsis: "I know, I know baby I know," Mingyu whispers having your hair hair bunched up in a ponytail with his hands as he fucks you doggy style... In front of 10k viewers putting your fucked out face on display.

Warnings: Friend?KMG x Camgirl!Reader, sex on cam, REALLY FILFTHY, sex toys, gag ball, buttplug, tail buttplug, handcuffs, tit fucking, thigh fucking, oral (f and m receiving & giving), double penetration, edging, foodplay, squirting, overstimulation, reader passes out towards the end

The upper half of your face was concealed with a mask while the other exposee your drooling mouth still covered in cum with a gag ball hanging from your neck covered in your own saliva. Mingyu would've kept it in you somebody hadn't donated a wopping $5000 asking to see your face on full display acting like a speaker with your constant noise.

Being an anonymous streamer on an adult website was tantalizing, you showed only your body and never your face. Due to this, you've created a double persona: in the eye of the public and of those around you, you were a charming and modest girl smiling ever so kind and helpful in all ways.

But once you put on your mask, everything they know of gets thrown away. Wearing lude lingeries, playing with yourself, using toys not commonly bought in malls, roleplaying, unleashing sounds that would baffle anybody who knew of you in real life.

You keep your other persona extremely well kept, locked and hidden. Even going as far as reserving a whole seperate room for your activities, assuring yourself that no one would suspect you. That was until one of your friends found out.

Mingyu invited you over to his apartment to apparently 'watch' something. According to him: he's been obsessing over it the second he found it so much so that he's been anticipating it's next release. Unassumingly, you came over.

As Mingyu pulls up the website on his laptop, horror started to paint your face, and by the time he'd click on your account, you'd already felt like fainting. Looking up ftom his laptop, he stares at you with his eyebrows raised, a smile with one end raised upwards.

Apparently he'd been watching you since your first few streams. He had his suspicions but he let it pass thinking it was impossible, but it only took one story from you recounting your day to confirm his suspicions.

You pleaded for him to not tell anyone, saying you'd do anything for him not to. Of course, he took the offer. He wanted to fuck you —as expected— on cam. Not expected.

And yet here you are, going dumb on his cock, face revealed for the public to see despite of the circumstances that led to this situation.

A stream prior to this one, you mentioned of a competition in which you'd randomly pick out a subscriber to have a taste of you just so you'd have an excuse to introduce Mingyu.

The two of you immediately jumped into action courtesy of Mingyu's hardening cock. You looked up at hin from your chair as you pulled down his pants. Spitting and licking in his cock before taking him in an immediate deep throat.

Mingyu groans throwing his head back panting at your actions. You were skilled as fuck. Who knew you had this in you? Turns out there were still many more of you that Mingyu didn't know of despite your years of friendship.

Donations and tips kept coming in with specific requests which you would apply comply to.

Tit fucking? Sure. Engulfing Mingyu's dick in your boobs, bouncing up and down with a dildo in your pussy. You would spit, lick, and sometimes even suck the tip of his mouth making him cum all over your tits, face and mask as you cream around the plastic dildo in you.

Thigh fucking? Why not. Standing in front of Mingyu and trapping his dick between your thighs rubbing it against your clit, mixing your existing cum and his together creating squelching sounds mixed with your moans.

Double penetration? Okay. Mingyu's dick switching from your cunt to your ass hole as he fucks you. Slapping your butt in the process further intensifying the feeling of the dildo in your ass. Your moans were loud and lewd, even more than before. "Needy slut, can't be satisfied with one," He groans behind you

Tail buttplug? Alright. A collar wrapped around your neck, the plug inserted inside of you as you lick Mingyu's dick clean of any cum, only allowed to suck the tip. Each movement of your body makes you want to moan because of the feeling of his cum inside your ass.

Edging? We've been doing it. Out of all things requested for you to do. You've only came once and Mingyu twice. His stamina was admirable.

Foodplay? Yeah, a recharge of energy would be nice. Whipped cream sprayed all over your body as Mingyu licks you clean, savouring the taste of the cream, cum, and your sweat. You do the same for him licking all over his abs and dick. "Tastes so good baby."

Handcuffs? Roger. Your face in front of the camera, a gag ball in your mouth, tears in your eyes as Mingyu pounds relentlessly behind you. His pace changing from quick to extremely slow, but also very deep hitting your g-spot every damn time.

Choking? That's already done.. but we can do it with cum! Leaks of Mingyu's cum drips from the sides of your mouth as he eats you out and fingers you from the bag. Your eyes rolling back, pleas muffled by the gag.

Even after fulfilling all those requests. Mingyu still wasn't done, he still has alot left in him. So now as he fucks you behind, he forces your head up with a ponytail bunched up in his hands, your sounds starting to weaken until you were just a hole for him to use.

Not long after you squirted all over him covering everything in your juices, a ring of cream forming around his dick as he cums soon after. But he doesn't stop, overstimulating you until your shaking and withering in his hands, small whimpers coming out your mojth.

It is only until you pass out that he stops. Safe to say the secret isn't gonna come out any time soon.

[linoxpudding]

Fading Love (Pt 2)- Lee Know

summary: as the distance between you and minho grows, secrets remain unspoken, and misunderstandings spiral out of control—until one final confrontation threatens to shatter everything for good

pairing: lee know x fem!reader, bsf!changbin x reader

genre: heavy angst

word count: 4290 words

warnings: mentions of divorce, pregnancy, emotional distress

a/n: wow my longest fic yet, it's filled with angst and no comfort (I'm sorry, ily)

SERIES: PART ONE PART THREE PART FOUR

ENDGAME: Voting Poll

Masterlist

~°~

The second the door shut behind Minho, a heavy silence settled over the apartment.

It felt unreal. Like a nightmare you were waiting to wake up from.

As you sat frozen on the cold floor, arms wrapped around yourself, the weight of his words pressed against your chest, suffocating, relentless. I want a divorce.

How did it come to this? How did the love you had fought so hard to protect slip through your fingers like sand?

Your body shook with silent sobs, grief clawing at your throat as you rocked back and forth, the reality of your situation settling in. You were alone. Carrying his child, and utterly alone.

Your hands trembled as you reached for your phone. There was only one person you could call right now—someone who had been there from the very beginning. 

Your best friend, Seo Changbin. The one who had introduced you to Minho in the first place.

With shaky fingers, you tapped his name and pressed the call button. The phone rang once, twice—

"Y/N? It's late. What's up?" His voice was warm, familiar, a lifeline in your drowning despair.

The moment you heard his voice, the dam broke. A choked sob escaped your lips, and you struggled to get the words out.

“Binnie… Can you—” your breath hitched, “can you come over? Please?”

Changbin immediately tensed on the other end. “What happened?” His voice sharpened with worry.

You couldn’t answer, your throat tightening as another sob wracked through you.

“I’m on my way,” he said without hesitation. “Just hold on, okay? I’ll be there soon.”

The call ended, and you curled into yourself, pressing your palms against your face as you tried to steady your breathing.

*********************

Changbin arrived less than fifteen minutes later. The second he stepped into your apartment, his eyes darted around—taking in the dim lighting and the way you sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket, eyes red and swollen. Then his gaze shifted, taking in the carefully set dinner table, the soft glow of the candles, the unopened envelope sitting there like an abandoned secret. 

His stomach dropped.

He rushed to you, dropping to his knees beside the couch as he pulled you into his arms. “Hey, hey… I’m here. What happened?” His voice was soft, but there was an underlying urgency to it.

You clung to him, burying your face in his shoulder as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. “He—” your voice cracked, “He asked for a divorce.”

Changbin stiffened. His whole body went rigid against yours.

“…What?” He pulled back slightly, eyes searching your face as if he didn’t believe his ears.

You let out a weak, bitter laugh. “He said… it’s not working anymore.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly, his own expression darkened with anger.

“That—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “That bastard.”

You shook your head. “Don’t… don’t blame him. He—”

“No, Y/N.” His voice was sharp, but not at you. “You’re sitting here, crying your heart out, and he—” Another deep inhale. He ran a hand down his face, “I’m gonna kill him.”

You sniffled, clutching the blanket tighter. “It gets worse.”

Changbin turned to you immediately, eyes filled with concern. “What do you mean?”

You hesitated. This was it.

The words you had planned to say to Minho—the words you had hoped would bring you two back together—now hung heavy in your throat.

Finally, you whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

Changbin froze.

His breath caught, eyes wide with shock. “What?”

You nodded weakly, hands shaking as you wiped at your cheeks. “Three months… I found out today.” You motioned toward the table, toward the sonogram that sat there inside the envelope unopened. 

Realization dawned in his eyes. He exhaled sharply, “Holy shit.” 

A sharp breath left Changbin’s lips as he ran a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “He doesn’t know?”

Tears burned your eyes again. “I was gonna tell him tonight. I thought… I thought maybe the baby would fix things.” Your voice cracked, “But he left before I could say anything.”

Changbin didn’t speak for a moment. He just stared at the table, his expression unreadable.

Then, he reached out and took your hand, squeezing gently. “Y/N.” His voice was softer now. “What do you wanna do?”

You swallowed. “I don’t want him to know.”

He blinked. “What?”

You wiped at your eyes, composing yourself. “I think he fell out of love, Binnie. I don’t… I don’t want him to feel obligated to stay because of the baby. I don’t want our child to grow up in a marriage that was forced.”

Changbin opened his mouth, then closed it. His lips pressed into a thin line. “Y/N…”

“No, Changbin.” Your voice was firm despite the pain in your chest. “He made his decision. He wants to leave. I won’t force him to stay just because I’m pregnant.”

Changbin’s jaw tightened, “But he deserves to know.”

You swallowed hard. “And what if he doesn’t want this child? I can’t—” your voice wavered, “I can’t bear the thought of him looking at our baby with regret.”

Changbin exhaled slowly, his expression torn. He wanted to argue, to shake some sense into Minho, to drag him back here and force him to see what he was throwing away. But he also saw the pain in your eyes, the fear of being unwanted—not just for yourself, but for the life growing inside you.

"Promise me," your voice trembled. "You won’t tell him. You also won’t tell any of the guys."

For a long moment, Changbin didn’t speak. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he wanted to argue, but in the end—he sighed and nodded.

“…Okay.”

*********************

Minho lay on the stiff hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling, exhaustion pressing down on him like a weight he couldn't shake. The silence in the room was deafening—no sound of your soft footsteps, no warmth of your presence beside him. Just him, alone, with his own thoughts.

His chest ached, but he told himself this was for the best.

He hadn't made this decision lightly. It had been months of watching the light fade from your eyes, of feeling the distance stretch between you both like an unbridgeable gap. He saw it in the way you barely smiled anymore, in the way your laughter—once so effortless—had become rare, almost forced. And it killed him.

The guilt had been eating him alive for months. He knew he wasn’t around enough. Work had kept him late, exhaustion had drained him, and slowly, without realizing it, he had let you slip through his fingers. The more he failed to fix things, the more he convinced himself that maybe… maybe you’d be happier without him.

He wasn’t blind. He saw the way you stared at the walls when you thought he wasn’t looking. The way your voice wavered when you asked him if he was okay, as if you already knew the answer. He saw the disappointment flicker in your eyes every time he walked through the door late, too tired to do anything but collapse onto the couch. The countless missed dates. The way your excitement would slowly fade each time he called to tell you he couldn't make it. The way you'd try to mask your disappointment, saying, "It's okay, I understand," when he knew it wasn’t.

He remembered the company dinner you had invited him to—the one you had been looking forward to for weeks. You had picked out a dress, even asked him which earrings looked better, excitement shining in your eyes. Yet, when the night came, he wasn’t there.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he had promised, like he always did. But the truth was, he never really did.

You were miserable.

And he blamed himself.

Minho shut his eyes, allowing himself to drift back to that weekend. He had planned the getaway hoping that maybe, just maybe, escaping reality for a little while would fix things. That if he could just hold you close, kiss you the way he used to, you’d remember how much he loved you. Maybe you’d smile at him like before, without the weight of disappointment shadowing your gaze.  

And for a moment, it worked.  

That night, as he made love to you, he let himself believe that things could go back to how they once were. He traced every inch of you with reverence, whispering silent apologies into your skin. But even as he held you, even as you buried your face into his neck and sighed in contentment, an overwhelming sense of guilt crept into his chest, tightening like a vice.  

Because deep down, he knew love wasn’t enough.  

He knew that you deserved more than fleeting moments of happiness. More than those rare luxury vacations that only served as temporary bandages over a wound that kept growing. You deserved consistency, effort—not just grand gestures when things started to break beyond repair.  

You deserved a partner who showed up for you, not just physically but emotionally. Someone who came home on time, who listened, who asked about your day and actually heard the answer. Someone who didn’t let exhaustion or work become an excuse to neglect the person they swore to cherish.  

That night, as you slept soundly on his chest, he wept in silence, his fingers softly running through your hair. Because he knew he was failing you. He knew you deserved more, and he hated himself for not knowing how to give it to you.

So after three more months of battling his own thoughts, he did what he thought was right. He let you go. 

Minho exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand down his face. He had expected relief, a sense of closure. Instead, there was only a hollowness, a gnawing feeling in his gut that he had just made the worst mistake of his life.

Because the truth was, he still loved you. More than anything. But what good was love if it left you feeling lonely in your own home? What good was love if it wasn’t enough to stop you from hurting?  

*********************

Minho arrived home the next morning, the weight of finality pressing down on his chest. He wasn’t sure if you’d be home, but as he stepped inside, the silence told him everything—no soft humming from the kitchen, no quiet footsteps padding across the floor. Just emptiness.

He let out a slow breath, forcing himself to move. Packing was quick—too quick for something that felt like the end of an era. He grabbed his clothes, his essentials, ignoring the way his hands trembled as he zipped his suitcase. His eyes lingered on the little things—the framed photos, the sweater of his you always stole, the candle on the bedside table that smelled like vanilla because you said it made the house feel warm.

Then, as he walked to the foyer, he hesitated. His fingers brushed against the small keychain attached to his house key—the matching set you had gotten for both of you. The little silver cat charm had been a joke at first, but you had said, “Now, even our keys belong together.”

He exhaled sharply and placed the key next to yours, letting his fingers linger for a second longer before pulling away. Without another glance, he silently closed the door behind him.

*********************

Han Jisung was lounging on his couch when Minho showed up at his door, suitcase in hand.

“Hyung?” Jisung blinked in confusion, pushing his glasses up his nose. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Minho dropped his bag near the entrance, rubbing his face. “Can I crash here for a while?”

Jisung’s expression turned wary. “What happened? Where’s Y/N?”

Minho didn’t answer.

He stared at him for a long moment, confusion dawned on his face. “Hyung, you’re scaring me–” his eyes widened, “Did you guys have a fight?”

Minho sank onto the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He didn’t respond. Because what was there to say? He had done what he thought was right, and yet, the emptiness inside him only grew.

For the first day, Jisung didn’t ask questions. He let Minho stay in the guest room, barely speaking to him. But by the second day, the silence was unbearable.

Jisung finally confronted him in the kitchen, arms crossed as Minho mindlessly stirred a cup of coffee.

“Why are you really here, hyung?”

Minho remained silent.

Jisung scoffed, his frustration clear. “Did something happen with Y/N?”

Minho tensed.

Jisung’s frown deepened. “…Hyung… what did you do?”

Minho exhaled, gripping the edge of the counter. His voice was barely above a whisper, “I asked for a divorce.”

Jisung froze. His mouth parted slightly in shock before his face fell completely. “…What?”

Minho didn’t repeat himself. He couldn’t.

Jisung stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. “No. No, that doesn’t make sense. You love her. You—”

Minho cut him off, voice flat. “It’s already done, Han.”

Jisung let out a humorless laugh, stepping back. “You’re serious?” He ran a hand through his hair. “What the fuck, hyung? Why?”

Minho didn’t answer.

Jisung scoffed, anger flickering in his eyes. “Did you even fight for her? Or did you just—give up?”

Minho clenched his jaw. “I didn’t give up.”

Jisung shook his head in disbelief. “Then what the hell do you call this?”

Minho didn’t have an answer.

*********************

Days later, Minho finally showed up at the studio.

He needed to get back to work. Needed something—anything—to distract himself.

But the second he walked into the studio, he realized just how naïve that was. The air was heavy. The usual playful energy that filled the space was gone, replaced with thick silence and cold stares.

The other members were there, but they weren’t joking around like usual. Felix and Hyunjin barely glanced at him. Seungmin kept his eyes on his laptop. Jeongin had his arms crossed, face unreadable. Even Chan—who usually tried to keep the peace—looked disappointed.

And then there was Changbin.

Changbin was standing by the mixing board, arms crossed, gaze burning into Minho like he wanted to hit him.

Minho sighed, “Just say whatever you’re going to say, Bin.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I will.” Changbin took a step forward, his voice razor-sharp, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Minho didn’t answer.

Changbin’s eyes flashed. “I mean it, Minho. What the hell were you thinking?”

Minho clenched his jaw, “You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand?” Changbin let out a bitter laugh. “No, I get it perfectly. You’re a fucking coward.”

Minho flinched.

“You’re seriously going through with this?” Chan’s voice was low, controlled, but he was disappointed, “You’re really leaving her?”

Minho swallowed hard, “It’s for the best.”

“For who?” Hyunjin scoffed, shaking his head. “Because it sure as hell isn’t for her. Or you.”

Minho remained silent, staring at the floor.

“I introduced you to her, hyung.” Changbin’s voice cracked, his hands trembling. “I watched you fall in love with her. And now, you’re just—what? Throwing it all away? After everything?”

“It’s not that simple,” Minho muttered.

“It is that simple.” Changbin snapped. “You’re hurting her. And don’t even try to tell me you don’t love her anymore—because we both know that’s bullshit.”

Minho clenched his fists. “You don’t understand.”

Changbin let out a humorless laugh, “You’re right. I don’t. Because I could never understand how someone could destroy the best thing in their life with their own hands.”

Minho exhaled shakily, lowering his gaze. He didn’t know how to explain it. The self-hatred, the guilt, the belief that you would be better off without him.

The silence stretched, suffocating. Then, almost unconsciously, the words slipped out.

“…Is she okay?”

Minho barely had time to process his own question before Changbin’s expression twisted into something darker—something dangerous.

“You don’t deserve to know.”

The words hit him like a bullet.

Minho’s head snapped up, but Changbin wasn’t done.

“You lost that right the second you walked out on her.” His voice was harsh, his hands trembling slightly at his sides. “You don’t get to ask about her now. You don’t get to pretend you care when you’re the one who left her behind.”

Minho’s throat tightened, “I never stopped caring.”

“Then where the fuck were you when she needed you?” Changbin’s voice rose, his anger barely restrained. “Where were you when she—”

He cut himself off, exhaling sharply, like he had to physically stop himself from saying something.

Minho frowned, his chest tightening. “When she what?”

Silence.

But there was something in Changbin’s expression—something guarded, something hesitant—that made Minho’s stomach twist.

“…Changbin.” His voice was low. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Changbin’s jaw clenched. He looked away, biting the inside of his cheek.

Minho turned to the others. “Do any of you know?”

No one answered. Everyone just stared at Changbin in confusion.

Felix shifted uncomfortably. Seungmin sighed, rubbing his temples. Jisung, who had been watching the whole conversation unfold, hesitated before finally speaking.

“You should just leave, hyung.”

Minho’s heart pounded. “Not until he tells me what’s going on.”

Changbin turned back to him, his expression dark. “You don’t get to demand shit, Minho”

Minho’s breath came unevenly. His mind was racing, every nerve screaming that something wasn’t right. That you weren’t okay.

But before he could press further, Changbin took a step back, his voice dropping to a quiet edge. “If you really gave a shit, you would’ve stayed.”

And with that, he turned and walked out of the room. The conversation was over.

Minho stood there, frozen, suffocating under the weight of his own choices. He let out a slow, heavy sigh—then left the studio. He should come back later. 

*********************

Meanwhile, you were trying your best to keep moving forward as the months progressed. 

The divorce process was surprisingly simple—your lawyers handled most of it, meaning you didn’t have to see Minho face-to-face. In a way, you were relieved. You weren’t sure if you could handle it. At first, you thought he would change his mind. That maybe, at some point, he’d realize the mistake and take it back. But he didn’t.

Instead, Minho had become colder.

No messages. No calls. It felt like he completely moved on.

The one date you would have to see him, the court date for the final signatures, was looming over your head like a storm cloud. But by then, you told yourself, maybe you’d have already delivered the baby. Maybe it would make things… easier.

Or maybe it would make everything worse.

You still debated telling Minho. But why? He didn’t want you anymore—why would he want your baby?

The only thing keeping you steady through all of it was Changbin. He had been your rock through the entire process, making sure you ate, making sure you weren’t alone when you didn’t want to be. Since you had no family in the city, having him around made everything feel a little less unbearable.

Of course, he still pushed you every once in a while. “You should tell Minho,” he’d say, voice careful, knowing you wouldn’t want to hear it. But he kept his promise. He never told Minho, or any of the boys.

Now, nearing your due date, your belly was impossible to hide. 

*********************

You sighed as you opened Changbin’s fridge, only to be greeted by nearly nothing.

“Changbin, what the hell do you eat?” you muttered, your voice echoing in the mostly empty kitchen.

“Protein shakes,” he answered shamelessly from the couch.

You turned to glare at him, “That’s not food.”

He shrugged, “It gets the job done.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, if you want to live like a gym rat and die from malnutrition.” You shut the fridge and grabbed your jacket. “Come on. We’re going grocery shopping. I’m not letting you survive on just protein shakes and instant ramen.”

Changbin groaned. “Y/N, I have food. You’re being dramatic.”

“No, you don’t,” you argued, pointing at him. “And I’m not about to let my best friend starve.”

In the end, you won.

As you and Changbin walked through the grocery store, he was disguised in a hoodie, cap, and mask to avoid being recognized. You chuckled, shaking your head, as you tossed a bag of spinach into the cart.

“You look ridiculous,” you teased.

Changbin scoffed. “Excuse me, this is peak disguise fashion.”

You rolled your eyes, handing him a bag of apples. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

Despite the teasing, your mind briefly wandered. Minho used to do the same—always in disguise, always hiding. Not because he wanted to, but because you had asked him to. You wanted your privacy, wanted to protect his career. He had respected that, never once pushing you to go public.

Funny how things changed.

Your smile faltered slightly, but before you could dwell on it, Changbin nudged you with his elbow. “You okay?”

You quickly nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“Do I really need this many vegetables?” Changbin said in an attempt to lighten your mood. 

“Yes,” you said firmly. “And real food too. Not just protein bars and chicken breast.”

Changbin sighed. “Fine, mom.”

You smirked. “I am about to be a mom.”

He chuckled. “Touché.”

After finishing your grocery run, you both returned to his apartment, and as soon as everything was put away, exhaustion hit you like a truck. You had been feeling extra drained lately, and sometimes, your own apartment felt too lonely to go back to. So, without thinking too much, you made your way to his guest room upstairs, curling up on the bed for a nap.

Changbin didn’t question it. He simply made sure you were comfortable before leaving you to rest.

*********************

Back at Jisung’s place, Minho sat on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone when something made his breath hitch.

“BREAKING NEWS: MYSTERIOUS WOMAN SPOTTED WITH STRAY KIDS’ CHANGBIN—IS HE GOING TO BE A FATHER?!”

Minho stared at the headline in disbelief.

The accompanying picture showed Changbin walking through a grocery store, a shopping cart—and a heavily pregnant woman by his side.

A woman that looked far too familiar. It was you.

The breath punched out of his lungs. His fingers clenched around his phone. His vision blurred with rage.

You were with Changbin.

And you were pregnant.

Minho felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as a horrifying realization hit him—was the baby Changbin’s? Had you moved on that fast?

Minho’s grip tightened on his phone, his vision blurring with rage and something far more painful—betrayal.

He was speechless, you… and Changbin?

Before the divorce was even finalized?

His heart pounded. You had moved on while he was still regretting everything?

His body moved before his mind caught up. Anger surged through his veins as he grabbed his car keys and drove to Changbin’s apartment, each mile fueling his anger.

*********************

Changbin was in the living room, when loud banging echoed through the front door.

“Changbin!”

The furious voice sent ice through his veins. He could tell it was Minho.

The second he opened the door, Minho stormed inside, shoving him back.

“Dude, what the hell—”

“What the fuck is this?” Minho’s voice was sharp, holding up his phone.

Changbin frowned, glancing at the headline. “It’s not—”

“Tell me this isn’t real.”

Changbin hesitated. “Minho, calm down—”

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down!” His voice cracked, eyes blazing. “You and her? Before the divorce was even finalized? How could you– HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!”

Changbin clenched his jaw. “It’s not what you think.”

Minho took a step closer, fists tightening, “Then tell me. Tell me it’s not yours.”

Silence. Changbin hesitated.

Your words rang in his head—“Promise me. You won’t tell him.”

He swallowed and then, against every instinct screaming at him, he forced the lie out.

“…It’s mine.”

Minho froze. 

His blood turned to ice, his breath caught in his throat. He was then filled with rage. It exploded inside him, taking over every rational thought.

Before he even realized it, his fist swung.

The punch landed square on Changbin’s jaw, sending him stumbling back.

“Minho—” Changbin hissed, touching his lip.

But Minho wasn’t listening. He saw red.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” he yelled, grabbing Changbin by the collar. “You were my best friend!” His voice broke. “How could you—how could you—”

The pain cut too sharp.

"YOU WERE MY BROTHER!" Minho roared, his chest heaving, rage and heartbreak spilling from every syllable. "YOU ASSHOLE—AFTER ALL THESE YEARS, AFTER EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH—YOU WENT BEHIND MY BACK?!"

Changbin shook his head quickly. “Minho, listen—”

"NO!" Minho’s hands trembled at his sides, nails digging into his palms as his vision blurred with anger.

“STOP!” Your loud and shattered voice rang through the room.

Minho turned, still breathing hard. And there you were. Standing at the top of the stairs, eyes wide with panic.

His heart skipped a beat. For a second, neither of you moved. Then—Minho’s gaze lowered. Your hand was resting on your stomach protectively.

Then, reality slammed into him– you and Changbin. A baby.

Minho’s vision blurred as he whispered, “After all this time, this is how it ends?”

The pain in his voice made your stomach twist.

His throat tightened. “I—I quit.”

You stiffened. “What?”

“I won’t be in the band anymore. I quit.”

Changbin’s eyes widened in horror. “Minho, stop—don’t say that—”

But Minho wasn’t listening. He turned and walked out the door.

You finally snapped out of your daze. “Minho, wait!”

But he didn’t stop. He didn’t look back. And for the second time in your life—Minho walked away from you.

----------------

Taglist:

@kaiyaba @lov3rachan @pixie-felix @ellemir2404 @willowhanji @skzimagines @wavetohannie @jamroses @vietjeb @kayleefriedchicken @kokinu09 @nightmarenyxx @my-neurodivergent-world @shuuporanglinos @silly250

Part 2 Taglist:

@lovesunshinefelix @bluebellsringinghereandthere @hanniebunch @minniesverse @expired-vibes @havenwithleeknow @nikithaaaaaa @minghaosimp @zelianlop @imeverycliche @missvanjii @kissesmellow21 @butterflybananabread @skzmasterchef

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : MEET THE FAMILY : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Stark!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men & MCU

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: After your dad, Tony Stark, finds out you’re dating Logan, he insists the whole Avengers team meet him. Nervous but with Logan by your side, you head to the compound, with Wade tagging along. The Avengers are curious and a little skeptical, especially Tony, but Logan holds his own during dinner. He impresses the team with his confidence and clear care for you, even earning Tony’s reluctant approval by the end of the night. Despite the initial tension, Logan becomes a part of your chaotic family, and everyone accepts him.

Part 2

THE COMPOUND WAS QUIET. Too quiet. You'd been on edge ever since Happy had called you that morning, voice full of that awkward yet endearing nervousness he always got when delivering bad—or rather, inconvenient—news.

“Your dad knows.”

Three words that had set your entire day into a downward spiral of anxiety. Of course, Tony would find out. He had eyes and ears everywhere, despite you trying to keep things on the down low. And now, he had apparently told everyone.

Your boyfriend, Logan, sat beside you on the drive to the Avengers compound, eyes fixed on the road, completely unfazed. He was never one to be easily rattled. He hadn’t even batted an eye when you mentioned the entire Avengers team was going to be waiting to meet him. If anything, he just lit a cigar and shrugged, saying, "Not the first time I've been sized up by a bunch of superheroes."

Logan was like that. Unbothered. Calm in the face of impending chaos.

Unlike you.

You let out a deep sigh, clutching the steering wheel a bit tighter. "You know, we could just make a U-turn right now," you muttered, hoping, praying he’d take you up on the offer.

Logan chuckled, the low rumble soothing and maddening all at once. "Nah, darlin'. We’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?"

"Logan, it's my dad. My dad, who, mind you, is Tony Stark. Genius. Billionaire. Overprotective father extraordinaire. I love him, but he’s going to grill you."

He smirked, one of those self-assured, slightly cocky looks that made your heart skip. "I’ve been through worse, trust me."

You were about to respond when a voice suddenly piped up from the backseat, startling you both.

“Hey, so what’s for dinner? I hope it’s not shawarma. I had that yesterday, and let me tell you, intestinal distress doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“Wade?!”

The red-suited mercenary, Wade Wilson—aka Deadpool—grinned as he popped his head between the seats. "Who else? You thought I’d miss a chance to meet the Avengers again? Besides, I’ve got a bet with myself to see which of them cracks first. My money’s on Banner. Big guy’s got a short fuse."

You groaned. “Wade, you weren’t even invited.”

"Yeah, but you love me," Wade said with a wink. "Plus, I’m the one who introduced you two lovebirds, so technically, I’m responsible for all of this.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a glint of amusement there. He had a weird, chaotic friendship with Wade that baffled you at times. Still, Wade had been the one to introduce you to Logan in the first place. After one of those typical Wade escapades where you'd found yourself smack dab in the middle of a multiverse-saving mission, Logan had swooped in, gruff and full of snark, but undeniably magnetic. You'd been hooked ever since.

"Alright, just... please don't say anything weird when we get there. This is already going to be awkward enough as it is."

Wade gave you a salute. "Scout's honor, kiddo."

~

When you arrived at the compound, Logan strode beside you, a protective yet calm presence. Wade, naturally, flanked the other side, completely unfazed by the prospect of facing a room full of Earth's mightiest heroes.

As you entered the living area, the first to greet you was not your father, but Morgan Stark, Tony’s precocious little daughter, who ran up to you with a big grin on her face.

"Hey, Morgs," you greeted, bending down to hug her.

Her eyes immediately shifted to Logan, who watched the interaction with a faint smile. "Is this him?" she asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

You nodded, a little nervous. "Yup. Morgan, this is Logan."

Morgan looked up at him with wide eyes, studying him. Logan crouched down to her level, his usually gruff demeanor softening just a bit. “You must be Morgan. Your sister talks about you all the time."

Morgan beamed. "You’re tall."

Logan chuckled. “And you’re smart.”

Morgan grinned and then, in typical kid fashion, dashed off, satisfied with her judgment. "I like him!" she called out as she disappeared into the kitchen.

One down.

Then the rest of the team filtered in—Tony, Pepper, Steve, Nat, Clint, Bruce, Thor, and even Rhodey. They all sized Logan up in their own way.

Tony, of course, was the first to speak.

"So," he said, voice casual but his eyes sharp, "this is the guy?"

Logan straightened up, meeting Tony's gaze with that signature, unflinching confidence. "Yup."

Tony took a moment, probably running a full background check in his mind before nodding. “Alright. Dinner’s almost ready, but first, I think the team’s got some questions.”

Steve, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a polite smile. “Logan, right? How’d you two meet?”

Before you could respond, Wade butted in.

“Oh, it’s a great story!” he exclaimed, gesturing dramatically. “So, picture this—alternate dimensions, worlds colliding, typical Tuesday stuff. I’m getting my ass handed to me by some bad guys—”

“I don’t remember it that way,” you interjected.

“Shh, let me have this moment. Anyway, I call in Logan here for backup, because duh, claws and healing factor, and then boom, sparks fly between these two.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as her eyes flicked between you and Logan. "Sparks?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but Wade was too quick. "Like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Or maybe that was an explosion—I can't remember."

Logan sighed, clearly used to Wade's antics by now. “We met on a mission. Wade was being a pain in the ass, as usual. Your girl here held her own, and I liked that."

Your face heated up at Logan’s praise. You noticed Natasha and Steve exchanging a look. Clint leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, lips quirking up slightly as if he was already sizing Logan up.

“Multiverse missions, huh?" Clint finally said. "That must’ve been fun.”

Logan smirked, locking eyes with Clint, both men now in some sort of unspoken stare-off. “Fun's one way to put it.”

Clint didn’t break eye contact but gave a slow, approving nod. “So you’re used to the crazy life. Good.”

Thor, ever the enthusiastic one, stepped forward next, looking Logan up and down. "Ah, a fellow warrior, no doubt!" He clapped a hand on Logan's shoulder, earning a slight grunt from him. “Tell me, Logan, have you faced a frost giant before? Or perhaps a horde of dark elves?”

Logan gave a half-shrug, completely unfazed by Thor’s boisterous personality. “Haven’t seen those specifically, but I’ve fought my fair share of things with claws, teeth, and bad attitudes.”

Thor laughed heartily, clearly impressed. "Then we shall have many stories to exchange!"

Bruce, who had been hanging back, finally spoke up. "So, uh... any anger management issues we should be aware of?" He asked it cautiously, but you could see the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Wade snorted. "Banner, you're one to talk."

Logan just grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Let’s just say I know how to handle myself.”

Natasha’s gaze sharpened. "I’ve heard about you. Wolverine, right? Healing factor, claws, indestructible skeleton."

Logan nodded once. "That’s me."

She studied him for a moment longer, then gave a small, approving nod. “Impressive.”

Tony, though silent for most of the interaction, was still sizing Logan up. You could feel the weight of your dad’s expectations hanging over the room. He wasn’t one to just roll over and let things be.

“So, Logan,” Tony said, leaning back with a scrutinizing look. “You’ve been around a long time. Done a lot, I assume. How exactly do you plan on handling my daughter?”

Logan didn’t flinch under Tony’s gaze. Instead, he gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “She can handle herself just fine, Stark. But if you're asking if I’ve got her back? Always.”

The room went quiet for a beat. Even Wade had paused from whatever chaotic inner monologue he had going. The weight of Logan’s words, his seriousness, seemed to sink into everyone.

Tony’s eyes flicked to yours, and for the first time that night, his expression softened. A flicker of something—acceptance, maybe—passed across his face.

“Well,” Tony said, standing up and smoothing his shirt. “In that case, I suppose we should eat.”

As everyone began to move toward the dining room, you felt Logan’s hand slide into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You looked up at him, relieved to see a small smile playing on his lips.

“They like you,” you whispered.

Logan shrugged, but there was a warmth in his eyes. “More importantly, they love you.”

You leaned into him slightly as you both followed the rest of the Avengers. And as for Logan? He had passed the test.

~

As the group settled into the dining room, the mood shifted slightly—less tense, more familial. The Avengers took their seats around the long table, conversations gradually picking up, but you couldn’t shake the subtle glances they kept throwing Logan’s way. It was clear they were still sizing him up in their own way.

Logan, for his part, remained calm. He was good at reading a room, better at letting things roll off his back. You’d noticed that about him early on—he had this way of commanding a space just by being in it, without the need for flashy words or grand gestures. Even so, you could tell by the way his hand remained close to yours that he was paying attention to every little detail. Watching, listening, judging.

Morgan was seated next to Tony, happily talking to Pepper about something she’d done at school that week, her occasional glance toward Logan full of childlike curiosity and approval. To her, Logan wasn’t an intimidating figure. He was your boyfriend—nothing more, nothing less. The simplicity of it warmed your heart.

Dinner was served, and Wade, who had somehow managed to squeeze in between Natasha and Clint, immediately started in on a loud, entirely unprompted story about a mission in Madripoor that no one really asked for.

“So there I was, pinned down by a mob of highly trained ninja assassins—yes, they exist, Steve—and I’m about to go down for the count when Logan here comes in with the whole snikt, snikt thing,” Wade mimed Logan’s claws extending with dramatic flair, “and saves my beautiful behind from a fate worse than death: losing my taco night.”

Steve sighed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Right, because that’s clearly the priority in a life-or-death situation.”

“Exactly!” Wade pointed enthusiastically, as if Steve had just made his point for him. “This guy gets it.”

Natasha leaned back, smirking as she cut into her food. “So, Logan saved your life, and that’s how the two of you met?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Not exactly. Logan and I didn’t really meet officially until a little later. Wade just… happened to be there. Per usual.”

“Per usual, my dear?” Wade gasped dramatically. “You wound me. You wouldn’t have even met this tall drink of Canadian water if it weren’t for me!”

Logan gave a quiet grunt of amusement, though he didn’t say anything. Instead, he caught your eye, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as Wade continued his rambling story.

Thor, who had been listening intently to Wade’s increasingly exaggerated tale, turned to Logan, looking genuinely intrigued. “So, Wolverine, your claws—are they forged of enchanted metal, much like Mjölnir?”

Logan paused, mid-chew, and raised an eyebrow at the Asgardian. “Not exactly. Adamantium. Strongest metal on Earth. Had it grafted to my skeleton a long time ago.”

Thor nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Ah, I see! A most noble addition. I myself am well-acquainted with weaponry of such caliber. Though I must admit,” he leaned in slightly, “I would be most curious to see them in action.”

Logan gave a low chuckle. “Maybe after dessert.”

As the conversation drifted on, Logan slowly began to settle in. Steve asked him a few more questions about his past—carefully avoiding anything too personal or traumatic—and Clint, always the quiet observer, seemed to be assessing Logan from across the table, eyes sharp but not unkind.

Tony, meanwhile, hadn’t said much since dinner started. He watched everything, listened to everyone, but remained quiet, only offering the occasional comment or quip. You knew him well enough to recognize that he was still processing. As much as Tony trusted your judgment, the whole “overprotective dad” thing didn’t exactly disappear overnight.

“So,” Tony finally spoke up, setting his fork down as the rest of the table quieted. “You’ve been through a lot. War, battles, more than most people could handle in one lifetime. And yet, here you are.”

Logan glanced at him, not quite sure where this was going, but he nodded. “Yeah. Seen more than my share.”

Tony leaned forward, elbows on the table, and his gaze sharpened, narrowing slightly as if he was putting Logan through one last test. “My daughter’s important to me— really important. You say you’ve got her back, and I respect that. But if you’re sticking around… you’re gonna need to know one thing.”

The room stilled. Even Wade had gone quiet, which was a rare feat. Logan met Tony’s stare head-on, not a trace of intimidation or hesitation in his gaze.

“What’s that?” Logan asked evenly.

Tony exhaled, his expression softening—just a fraction. “This family? We’ve been through hell. Lost people we cared about. We’ve had our world flipped upside down more times than I can count. And the thing is… when you’re in, you’re in. No half-measures. No walking away when things get tough. You stick it out. You fight for the people who matter.”

Logan didn’t blink. His gaze shifted briefly to you, then back to Tony. “That’s how I’ve always lived.”

Tony nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly. There was a weight to that moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Whatever final test Tony had in mind, it seemed Logan had passed.

Pepper, sensing the shift, smiled softly and placed a hand on Tony’s arm, quietly grounding him. “Dinner was wonderful,” she said warmly, breaking the tension. “I think we’ve had enough grilling for one night.”

Natasha smirked, raising an eyebrow at Logan. “You’ve survived the inquisition. Impressive.”

Logan shrugged. “Didn’t seem all that bad.”

Rhodey laughed. “You’re lucky. The last guy that showed up to date one of Stark’s kids? He didn’t make it past the appetizers.”

Tony snorted, shooting Rhodey a playful glare. “That’s because that guy showed up in a muscle car blaring AC/DC and quoting Shakespeare.”

“I thought you liked AC/DC?” you teased.

“I do. Not when it’s a first impression.”

Morgan, who had been quietly observing the back-and-forth, suddenly piped up. “Are you staying here tonight?” she asked innocently, looking up at Logan.

Logan blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “Uh…”

“Morgan,” Pepper began, her tone gentle but with that motherly undertone of “not now.”

“What? If he’s dating my sister, maybe he should stay!”

Wade, sensing an opportunity to cause more chaos, grinned beneath his mask. “Oh, I second that motion, mini-Stark! Logan here can bunk with me. I’ll show him my extensive collection of ‘80s action movies. It’ll be like a slumber party, only with more explosions.”

Clint nearly spit out his drink, trying to stifle his laughter, and even Natasha cracked a rare smile.

Logan, who had been stoic and composed throughout the entire evening, just shook his head. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

You burst out laughing, and as you glanced around the table, you saw that, little by little, Logan was beginning to fit in with the Avengers’ chaotic dynamic. Sure, there were still guarded looks and unspoken tests, but your family—both blood and found—was starting to accept him in their own way.

As dessert was served and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you felt Logan’s hand rest on your knee under the table, a small, reassuring touch that grounded you. You leaned into him slightly, smiling to yourself. Maybe this whole thing hadn’t been as bad as you’d feared.

By the time the evening began winding down, Logan was in the middle of an animated conversation with Thor about battle strategies, Wade was loudly recounting yet another exaggerated mission story to anyone who’d listen, and Morgan had fallen asleep in Pepper’s arms.

Tony, now more relaxed, leaned over to you as the others chatted around the table. “So… Logan,” he said quietly.

You glanced at him, unsure of what was coming next. “Yeah?”

Tony gave a small, reluctant smile. “I still think you could’ve given me a heads-up earlier, but… he’s alright. I guess.”

You grinned, bumping your shoulder against his. “Told you so.”

Tony chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it.”

As the night wrapped up and the team slowly began to disperse, you and Logan lingered by the door. Tony walked up to Logan, offering his hand.

“Take care of her,” Tony said, his tone steady but genuine.

Logan gripped Tony’s hand firmly, meeting his gaze once more. “Always.”

With that final exchange, you left the compound with Logan by your side, Wade tagging along (of course). And as you drove away, your hand resting in Logan’s, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

Your family had met him. He’d met them. And while it hadn’t been perfect, it was the first step in blending the two worlds you cared so deeply about. In the end, Logan wasn’t just a part of your life anymore.

He was a part of theirs.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes

If you want to be added to the Logan tag list, let me know!

[ipushhimback]

we were drunk, it happens part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

pairing: lando norris x verstappen!reader warnings: none? words: 2.2k

summary: lando and Y/N meet at a dinner with other drivers. they were drunk and landed in bed but what happens when her brother max finds out

there will probably be a part 2 bc i have many ideas!

this is my first f1 x reader fanfic i have ever written so please be kind

Y/N has never really liked Formula 1 which surprised everyone she told that as she was no one other than Max Verstappen’s little sister. She of course knew the basics and has watched some of the Grands Prix, but she has never enjoyed being there.

But one Friday evening that changed. Her brother had told her that he had been invited to a dinner with some other drivers, and they were allowed to bring a +1 and because Kelly wasn’t in Monaco that week, he asked Y/N to come with him.

At first, she was reluctant but eventually she agreed. But now she was standing in front of her mirror and wasn’t sure what to wear. What clothes do people wear when they are at a dinner with literal multimillionaires? An hour (and a long call with Kelly) later she was dressed in a simple black dress with a split on the right side, her curled hair falling over her shoulders perfectly.

She felt a bit weird as she stepped down the stairs to her kitchen where she drank a glass of water while waiting for her brother to pick her up, as she had a feeling that she would be absolutely underdressed at the dinner.

Only a few minutes later she heard the doorbell and opened the door to find Max standing in front of her in dark blue jeans and a white button-up shirt.

“Hey, are you ready?”, he asked as he pulled her in a quick hug.

“No. Not really but let’s go. How many people are gonna be at the dinner?” Y/N was a bit worried as she hated to be around too many people – rich and arrogant people in particular as she had experienced that enough when she was still a kid, and her dad had always invited other rich people to their home.

“I only know that Charles will be there, and he will probably bring his girlfriend, Alex. I am sure you’ll like her. Also, Lando is probably going to be there as well as Carlos and his girlfriend Rebecca. George is also going to be there and that means his girlfriend will be there as well, Carmen. And probably the other drivers will be there as well, but I am not sure because George has planned it all.” Max paused to look at his little sister. “If you feel uncomfortable at any point we can just go. But I am sure you will get along just fine with everyone.”

Y/N just nodded as she sat down in the passenger seat of Max’ car. An Audi RS Q3 he always said was perfect for everyday tasks but Y/N knew he mostly had that car so he could easily drive around with his whole family. Kelly, Penelope and their future baby. Even though nobody knew about the pregnancy yet, not even their parents as Max and Kelly wanted to keep that to themselves for as long as possible.

Only a few minutes later they arrived at a nice and expensive looking restaurant where they stopped in the parking lot.

They stepped in the building where they were greeted by a waitress almost immediately. He brought them to a separated room where some people were already sitting around a big table.

“Hi guys. This is Y/N, my sister. She was kind enough to join me today. Y/N, you already know Charles, Carlos, Lando and Oscar? And there is the back we have Lewis, Checo, Yuki, Pierre, Fernando and Franco”, Max introduced her while his sister tried to continue smiling even though she just wants to be at home and watch on of her favorite tv shows.

“Yes, I do. It is really nice to meet y’all. Where can I sit?”, she asked as she didn’t want to be standing there being stared at by everyone.

A young woman pointed to the chair right next to hers and opposite three other women, who looked just as good. “You can sit here. I am Lily by the way. Oscar’s girlfriend. And that’s Alex, Charles’ girlfriend and Rebecca. She is Carlos’ girlfriend. And there we have Carmen who is here with George. So, you are Max’ sister?”

Y/N was a bit taken aback by the kindness of Lily. She didn’t think that anyone of the WAGs would be like that. She thought they would be more arrogant. More… reserved. Like she used to know them. But Lily and also the others seemed different.

“Uhm… Yeah, I am. He brought me here because Kelly’s abroad.” Y/N took a sip of the glass of water that was placed in front of her by one of the waitresses.

“Oh, that’s sad I was looking forward to finally meeting her, but it is nice that you are here! Max talks about you a lot. It feels like he loves you more than he loves Kelly”, Alex said laughing.

“That’s because he does,” Y/N said and was scared that the others wouldn’t get her little joke when they didn’t react but sighed relived when they started laughing.

They continued chatting a bit, but Y/N just had eyes for one person in the room. Lando. She had seen him before. Of course. But now that she saw him up closer, she couldn’t help but admire his looks. His curls were a nice brown color and couldn’t curl more. His eyes were a pretty blue that looked even better with him wearing this blue hoodie right now.

When Lando looked in her direction, she immediately looked away and grabbed her wine glass. No feelings for arrogant multimillionaires. She didn’t want, nor did she need that in her life.

 ***

The next morning Y/N woke up with the worst headache existing.

She opened her eyes and regretted it right away when the bright sunlight blended her.

She definitely made a big mistake drinking so much alcohol the day before.

It wasn’t until then that she noticed something warm next to her. A body. Not anyone’s body, she realized when she looked to the right. Lando.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. This can’t be real.

But no. This wasn’t a dream, she quickly noticed when she wanted to get up and couldn’t find her clothes from the day before.

She got up and went to her closet in the exact moment she heard the doorbell ring. Now she remembered why she even woke up in the first place.

Y/N took a hoodie and sweatpants which she put on quickly before going downstairs to open the door.

“Hey! Wow, you look even worse than yesterday when you left”, Max said, only a second after Y/N had opened the door.

“Thanks”, she groaned. “What are you even doing here so early?”

“It is 1 pm. And I wanted to give you your purse. You forgot it in the car yesterday. Now, are you gonna offer your big brother a coffee as a thank you?”, Max asked and before Y/N could stop him he pushed her to the side and went straight to her kitchen.

“That’s not a good idea. I wanted to take a shower and then I have an appointment at- “, she couldn’t even finish the sentence when she heard her bedroom door open and heard footsteps on the stairs.

Only seconds later, Lando stepped in the kitchen, his hair tousled and only wearing his boxer briefs.

“Hey, Y/N do you- “, he immediately stopped when he spotted Max leaning on the counter. “Oh fuck.”

He immediately turned around and ran upstairs, figuring out that the following conversation shouldn’t happen with him just in his underwear.  

“Lando! You fucking bastard. You slept with my sister?!” Max pushed himself off the counter to run after the Brit while Y/N just stood there, unable to react. And honestly, she didn’t even want to react. If she had the choice she would just go outside and hide somewhere to not be involved in the situation, but she knew that wouldn’t really work longer than a couple hours, so she could also just get it over with now.

“Max! Stop! Let Lando at least get dressed so he doesn’t have to talk to you about all that in just his underwear.”

“He fucking slept with you! I don’t care if he is wearing anything! Lando let me in you can’t lock yourself in the bedroom forever!”

Knowing she can’t convince Max to go downstairs she made her way upstairs.

“Max. Go downstairs and calm down. We were drunk. I also made the decision yesterday to sleep with him. So go downstairs, while Lando gets dressed, make a cup of coffee and wait.” Y/N glared at her brother, and it finally seemed to convince him.

“Fine. But you will both come to me immediately after he got dressed.” Reluctantly, the Dutch made his way to do what Y/N told him to do.

When Max was gone Y/N knocked at the wooden door.

“Lando. It’s me. Let me in.” Only a moment later, the Brit opened the door and peeked outside.

“Is he gone?”, he practically whispered.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how scared he looked. “Yes, he is. Now let me in because we have to talk about what we say to make sure Max doesn’t insult you even more.”

“How about we don’t say anything and just hide in here? I am scared of him, Y/N. I can’t go out there again. He will kill me because I slept with you! His little sister!”

“Lando. You know we can’t do that. We will go out there and tell him that we were drunk, and it won’t happen again. It was a one-time thing, and that’s- “, Y/N wanted to say more but was interrupted by Lando.

“What if it wasn’t.” The woman just stared at Lando for a couple seconds, suddenly frozen in place.

“Sorry?”

“What if- what if I want to do it again? Listen. We had fun together, didn’t we? So why don’t we continue with it? No feelings, of course. Max would kill us. Just fun.”

Y/N took her time to proceed what Lando had just said. They did, in fact, have fun. But it didn’t change the fact that it was stupid. But she couldn’t help it. She did like last night. It was one of the best nights of her life.

Lando had known exactly what to do. He touched her in all the right places, he was demanding yet gentle. Rough but soft. It was everything. It was almost intoxicating how he touched her – made her feel seen. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Yes. Yes, you’re right. But then, what do we tell my brother?”

“Either the truth or we lie and say it won’t happen again. He doesn’t necessarily have to find out, does he? I am for the second option. Less of a risk to be killed, you know? But I think we should just see where the conversation takes us.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Ok”, she nodded. “Then let’s do that.”

Together they went downstairs. Max’ face was as red as a tomato since he was still mad at Lando. If he was being honest with himself, he knew that Lando wasn’t the only guilty one. His sister also decided to sleep with Lando, but it was easier to be mad at a colleague – even – than his little, innocent (or so he had thought) sister.

“So. Anyone here who wants to explain what happened yesterday?”, Max asked with an annoyed, maybe even hurt, look on his face.

“Max. I promise nothing bad has happened. Lando and I, we were drunk. It happens. I am 22 years old. I am pretty sure you know that what happened yesterday, has happened before. Just with other people. So, please. Don’t be mad at Lando for what happened. It was my decision as much as it was his.”

Y/N felt Lando standing next to her. He looked at Max calmly, trying to deescalate a potential argument, by just not saying anything. The Brit knew it was the smartest thing he could do in the moment.

“I know that it is normal what happened. But, Y/N, you also have to understand my point of view. He is a colleague. A rival of mine. And to be honest, he is not known for being the guy for long term relationships. I simply don’t want you to get hurt. And definitely not that you will have a broken heart because of him.” Max looked seriously concerned, protective.

“I won’t, Max. I promise. And even if he did break my heart, I would tell you right away so you can kill him on your own as soon as possible.”

The blonde man laughs while nodding. He stepped forward and wrapped Y/N up in his arms.

“Ok. I just want you to be happy. Do whatever you want just don’t tell me about it”, he mumbles in his sister’s hair before releasing her from his hug and turning around.

“I will go now. See you. Bye!”

Lando and Y/N flopped on the couch after saying their goodbyes and just a single minute later, Lando’s phone made a sound that signaled an incoming message.

If you hurt her, you are dead, just so you know. – Max

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | it was never meant to be (1/2) continued...

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, franco colapinto ୨ৎ : synopsis : your ex f1 boyfriend regrets letting you go so easily.

୨ৎ : genre : reconcilation, heartbreak, angst, sad themes, moving-on ୨ৎ : tws : moving onto someone else, unforgiveness ୨ৎ : word count : 2301

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

୨ৎ find part one here ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this was requested, and since you guys asked, you shall recieve! (buy me a ko-fi? ☕️)

ʚ・max verstappen

“this is insane,” ryan said, leaning closer to you so you could hear him over the noise. “i’ve only ever seen this on tv. it’s way more intense in person.”

you chuckled, slipping your hand into his. “i told you it’s a whole different world. i wanted you to see it for yourself.”

ryan squeezed your hand, his grin widening. “i’m glad you brought me. it’s incredible.”

from across the paddock, max verstappen’s gaze landed on you. he had spotted you the moment you walked in, his eyes immediately drawn to the man at your side. max recognized the jacket ryan wore—it wasn’t from any team, just a simple, casual hoodie. no team colors. no logos. it told max everything he needed to know: ryan wasn’t part of this world.

it should have made max feel better. it didn’t.

he tried to focus on the strategy meeting happening behind him, but his attention kept straying to you. the way you leaned into ryan as you explained something about the cars. the way he laughed at whatever joke you told. the way you seemed completely at ease with him.

max clenched his jaw, a dull ache settling in his chest. he hated the way his mind worked—how he was already comparing himself to ryan, someone he didn’t even know. he hated how effortless it looked between the two of you.

“you okay?” christian’s voice cut through his thoughts, startling him. max turned to see his team principal watching him with a raised eyebrow.

“yeah, fine,” max muttered, forcing his attention back to the conversation. but his eyes betrayed him, flickering back to you and ryan every chance they got.

after the race, the paddock was a mixture of celebration and chaos. charles had finished on the podium, and you made your way to the ferrari hospitality area to congratulate him. ryan followed closely behind, still taking in the sights and sounds of the post-race festivities.

“charles!” you called, throwing your arms around him as he stepped off the stage. he laughed, hugging you back.

“merci, y/n,” charles said, his smile genuine. “i didn’t know you’d be here today. it’s good to see you.”

you stepped aside, introducing ryan to charles. “this is ryan, my boyfriend. he’s never been to a race before, so i thought i’d show him what it’s all about.”

charles shook ryan’s hand, offering him a warm smile. “bienvenue. i hope she hasn’t scared you off with all her f1 knowledge.”

ryan laughed. “not yet. she’s been amazing—explaining everything and showing me around. i can see why she loves it so much.”

max watched the interaction from a distance, his stomach twisting. he didn’t need to be close to hear what was being said. he could see it all—the way ryan looked at you, the way you looked back at him.

and then you laughed, that familiar sound that once belonged to max. it hit him like a punch to the gut.

he didn’t realize charles had spotted him until the monegasque walked over, leaving you and ryan to chat. “you’re staring,” charles said bluntly, his voice low.

max tore his gaze away, fixing his eyes on the ground. “i’m not.”

charles didn’t buy it, his sharp eyes narrowing. “she’s happy, max. let her be.”

“i know,” max snapped, his tone harsher than he intended. he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “i know.”

charles nodded, satisfied that his point had been made. “then act like it.”

max stayed where he was as charles walked away, his words lingering. you were happy. that should have been enough for max. but as he watched ryan wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, he couldn’t stop the jealousy from burning in his chest.

he’d had his chance. he let it slip through his fingers. and now, someone else got to be the reason for your smile.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

lewis sat on the edge of his couch, the phone in his hand feeling heavier than it should. his thumb hovered over your instagram profile, the notification mocking him—y/n added a new photo. he shouldn’t look. he knew that much. but curiosity—or maybe guilt—won out.

the picture hit him harder than any crash ever could. there you were, smiling brighter than he remembered, standing next to a man he didn’t know. his arm was wrapped around your waist, and the caption was simple: finally showing him my world. his first race weekend.

lewis’s chest tightened. he let the phone fall into his lap, staring blankly at the screen. the man in the photo wasn’t part of this world—no polished media training, no rehearsed charm. just a regular guy. a guy who got to see you laugh like that. a guy who now stood in the spot lewis had willingly given up.

roscoe stirred from his bed in the corner of the room, padding over to his side. the dog let out a soft huff, his head tilting as if to ask, what’s wrong?

lewis sighed, reaching down to rub behind roscoe’s ears. “i messed up, mate,” he said, his voice low and rough. “i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought…” his voice trailed off as the weight of his choices settled on his shoulders.

he had convinced himself it was for the best when he let you go. told himself that the pr relationship would be easier, cleaner, better for his image. but it was all a lie—a shiny, hollow lie. and while he had fallen into the illusion, you had slipped through his fingers.

roscoe rested his head on lewis’s knee, his big eyes filled with understanding. lewis let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “yeah, i know. i gave up something real for something fake. and look at me now.”

his mind wandered back to the night it all fell apart. the look on your face when he had admitted he couldn’t keep his promises. the way your voice had cracked when you’d asked if any of it had been real. he told himself it was for the best, but now, seeing you happy—truly happy with someone else—it hit him just how much he had lost.

he stared at the photo again, his hand resting on roscoe’s back as the dog gave a soft sigh. “you know,” he murmured, “i thought i’d feel relief seeing her move on. but all i feel is regret.”

roscoe looked up at him, his eyes almost accusing. lewis let out a long breath, leaning back against the couch as the phone screen dimmed. the laughter in your eyes in that photo wasn’t for him anymore. it was for someone else.

and he had no one to blame but himself.

ʚ・george russell

the roar of engines filled the paddock, but george’s mind was elsewhere. he had spotted you from across the garage, standing alone near the mclaren hospitality. you were dressed casually, a faint smile gracing your lips as you watched the bustle around you. for a moment, he let himself imagine that smile was for him.

he had been drowning in regret ever since the day he ended things, convincing himself it was for the best, for his career. but every time he saw her—the woman he’d left you for—it felt empty. fake. nothing like what he had with you.

before he could stop himself, his legs carried him toward you, his heart pounding louder than the engines in the background.

“y/n,” he called softly, catching your attention.

you turned, your expression faltering when you saw him. “george,” you greeted, your tone guarded.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice laced with something raw—something you hadn’t heard in a long time.

you hesitated but eventually nodded, following him to a quieter corner near the back of the garage. the air between you was thick, heavy with unspoken words and old wounds.

“i just…” he began, running a hand through his hair. “i wanted to say i’m sorry. for everything. for how i handled it. for breaking your trust.”

you crossed your arms, looking at him with a mixture of hurt and skepticism. “why now, george? what’s changed?”

he hesitated, his blue eyes meeting yours with an honesty that made your chest ache. “i made the biggest mistake of my life,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “i thought i was doing what was right for my career, but… i wasn’t thinking about what was right for me. and now, i see that i let go of the one person who actually cared about me—not the driver, not the brand, just me.”

you let his words sink in, the raw emotion in his voice undeniable. but the scars he’d left were still fresh, still tender.

“i don’t know what you expect me to say,” you replied, your tone steady but distant. “you hurt me, george. you chose someone else—someone who wasn’t even real—over me. and now, after all this time, you want to apologize?”

he nodded, swallowing hard. “i know i don’t deserve another chance. i know i have no right to ask for anything from you. but i needed to tell you how sorry i am. i miss you, y/n. every single day.”

you sighed, your resolve wavering for a moment before you shook your head. “i’m not ready, george. you don’t just get to walk back into my life and expect everything to be okay. if you want to fix this—if you even can—it’s going to take a lot more than an apology.”

he nodded again, his shoulders slumping. “i’ll do whatever it takes,” he said softly. “i just want you to know that i’ll never stop trying.”

you looked at him for a long moment, the sincerity in his eyes tugging at something deep inside you. but you weren’t ready to let him in—not yet.

without another word, you turned and walked back toward the paddock, leaving george standing alone. for the first time in months, though, he felt a glimmer of hope. it wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind him that you were worth fighting for—and this time, he wouldn’t let you go without a fight.

ʚ・franco colapinto

the café was small and cozy, tucked away on a quiet street corner, and you were grateful for the escape from the cold breeze outside. the familiar scent of coffee and pastries filled the air as you approached the counter, glancing at the menu. it was supposed to be a peaceful afternoon, one where you didn’t have to think about the past.

but fate had other plans.

“y/n?”

the voice was hesitant, familiar, and unmistakable. your stomach twisted as you turned to see franco standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. he looked different—tired, older, like he’d been carrying the weight of regret for far too long.

your expression hardened instinctively, the wounds he’d left still tender. “franco,” you said curtly, your tone clipped.

“i… i didn’t think i’d see you here,” he said, his voice soft, almost cautious.

“neither did i,” you replied, turning back toward the counter, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

but he didn’t. instead, he stepped closer, his presence lingering like a shadow. “please, can we talk?”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “i don’t think there’s much left to say, franco.”

“maybe not for you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly, “but i’ve been waiting for a chance to apologize. to explain.”

you hesitated, the raw emotion in his voice stopping you in your tracks. slowly, you turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. “you want to explain?” you said, your tone sharper than you intended. “go ahead, franco. explain why you broke my heart and threw away everything we had.”

he winced at your words, his shoulders sagging as he ran a hand through his hair. “i was an idiot,” he said simply. “i thought i was doing what was best for me—what would make me happy. but i was wrong. i was selfish, and i hurt you, and i’ve regretted it every single day since.”

you stared at him, your anger warring with the part of you that still remembered the good times, the laughter, the connection you once shared.

“i don’t know if i can forgive you,” you said honestly, your voice quieter now.

“i don’t expect you to,” he replied, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that took you by surprise. “but i want to try. i miss you, y/n. not just as someone i loved, but as my best friend. i miss us.”

your heart ached at his words, the honesty in them cutting through the layers of resentment you’d built up. “you hurt me, franco,” you said softly. “it’s not something i can just forget.”

“i know,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “but i’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. even if it’s just as friends. i just… i can’t go on knowing i didn’t at least try to fix this.”

you sighed, the weight of his words settling over you. part of you wanted to walk away, to protect yourself from the possibility of getting hurt again. but another part—the part that still cared, no matter how much you tried to deny it—wanted to give him a chance.

“friends,” you said finally, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. “that’s all we are right now, franco. if you want anything more, you’ll have to prove it to me.”

his face lit up with a faint, hopeful smile, and he nodded. “i will. i promise.”

you gave him a small, tentative smile in return. it wasn’t a clean slate, but it was a start. and maybe—just maybe—you could rebuild something worth holding onto.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 2

Hii! Here is the second chapter. I will post the chapters when the next one is either 50% or 90-100% ready, based on how long it has been. Hope you enjoy!

previous<< Chapter 2 >>next

Breakfast became awkward as soon as you shyly walked in, hunger beating the desire to stay hidden in your room- in hindsight, maybe you should have. They were chatting so eagerly, laughing. You wanted that too but as soon as you peeked through the door the noise stopped. It was like the first day of kindergarten. Lonely, your palms were sweating with anxiety, and- and you missed your mom.

You tried introducing yourself to Richard, but you were met with a hum and one singular glance, no interest from the older boy, your supposed brother. Bruce- you’d rather him not look at you at all. It was like he was trying to read your mind and dissect it.

By the time you had it in you to speak again, to try and create some bonds, it seemed like they couldn’t get away fast enough. They both looked so tired. You’d think they would have taken their time. Your eyes meet Alfred’s icy blues once the room is empty.

“Do they hate me?... Did I do something wrong?” Alfred’s whole body flinched at the question, unseen by the untrained eye. The old man felt pity, a bit of guilt for the way he, himself, acted. But the mask of indifference he’s been trained for years to keep took its place once more.

With a gentle hand, he did his best to soothe her worries. Bruce could never hate a kid, Alfred was sure… He hoped he was. Alfred shook his head- no, he shouldn’t doubt his child- Master Bruce. He shouldn’t doubt Master Bruce like that. He knows better. The old man cleared his throat. “Here, young miss. Master Bruce wanted you to have this. Just like Master Dick has.” His explanation of what and how to use the little black card and the modern phone came just as quickly as his try at making connections between the two kids.

“Giving a kid unsupervised access to so much money and the internet sounds like a bad idea.” Your mumbling made Alfred’s lip twitch. It was and he said as much, but it was what Master Bruce wanted, and what he wanted he got… usually.

And with that, Alfred left too. You understood why he left; he seemed to be the only employee. Taking care of such a big house all on your own must take all day, and to have to cook as well… Poor man, Bruce mustn’t like him very much either. He was old, ancient to your five-year-old self, maybe you could help with something.

After finishing your meal, you take the dishes and carefully put them in the sink. You wanted to wash them but sadly, the counter was taller than you. Instead, you focused on cleaning the table and pushing the chairs back into their place.

Bruce must have gone to work, and Richard to school. Your brows furrowed and your lips stuck out in a pout. You were supposed to go to kindergarten. Neither of the adults seemed worried about that, and you didn’t know how to get there either, so it must be a deliberate choice. Maybe it was closed. Or maybe they forgot.

Your feet carried you across the manor, from the withered garden to the many floors of the cold house, relying on the whispers from the shadows to know what door you can open, and which way you should go. They were leading you in a specific direction, you knew, but what else could you do but listen? Not like you had anything else to do or anywhere to be.

You stopped as soon as the shadows stopped whispering. The overlapping murmuring going silent made the room feel colder, and yet your amazement at the object before your eyes filled you with the warmth and hope you needed to survive another day. It was a simple thing, a painting.

A couple, a woman sitting on a chair and a man standing tall beside her. The position on any other would seem imposing, controlling even, but the hand on her shoulder wasn’t gripping her. It was a tender caress of care that reflected in the man’s face as a gentle smile and his eyes fixated on the woman, his wife. The painter did a great job of portraying the love and softness the man held for his beloved, as they did for the warmth in her smile and mischievously happy gleam in her eyes.

She was beautiful, full of life. Her dress was silky white. Must have been painted on the day of their wedding. She was the perfect picture of elegance as beautiful, shining pearls adorned her neck and the bottom of her dress, and yet… Her eyes seemed as sad as they were happy. She probably missed her mami too. You couldn’t imagine marrying someone and leaving your mom, but then again, you’re young and idealistic, dreaming of things that cannot be anymore.

You sat there for what felt like hours, taking in every little detail you could. You wanted to do this, to paint, to draw, to have your art hung for generations to see. Maybe you could fix the garden as well. Make it a beautiful background for your art, and a little something to make you feel useful. Now… how do you get back to your room?

The shadows seemed to giggle at how your demeanor soured once you realized how lost you actually were. Nevertheless, once they had their fun, they led you back to where you needed to be, gently nudging your tired little self back into the walls of your room. All that walking exhausted you so much, a nap was long overdue- you were sure they’d wake you up for lunch or dinner.

They never did. You woke up at one in the morning, more tired than when you went to sleep, and ten times hungrier and colder. Maybe they didn’t have dinner? The trash in the bin and half-chopped veggies in the fridge told a different story. It seems you’ll have to fend for yourself once more.

Tag List: @bat1212

[quartztwst]

Wedding in the Clouds! (TWST Fan-Event) (CLOSED)

Happy Valentine’s Day! 💕💕 I finally finished this fan-event for my 3k followers celebration!

Summary of the event:

On one fine day, you recieve a wedding invitation from a mysterious someone named Dione. It says to be a wedding for Azul and QUARTZ?! Wait, don’t they hate eachoth- SUDDENLY, a bright light from the invitation blinds your eyes and you end up on a soft, fluffy cloud. Voices of other people groaning and waking up is heard too. It seems like other students from NRC were also transported here.. But why?

A light pink skinned lady grabs all of the students attention and announces that you all are wedding guests. She introduces herself as Dione, one of the most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland. Dione’s attitude was very sweet yet it was very conscending like she was running some sort of workplace. Behind her was Quartz and Azul chained by vines from the cloud beneath everyone. They seemed to react accordingly as Quartz was shouting profanties and throwing a whole fit while Azul was trying to focus on the fact he was being embarrassed in front of a quarter of NRC but Quartz’s outburst was irritating him.

As they were taken away, Dione explained to everyone they were to forcibly help set the wedding up for the bride and groom with her bird minions. If anyone refuses, they will be thrown off from the clouds or forced into a prison made of vines. WIth a quick flick of her hand, everyone’s clothes were suddenly changed into wedding attire.

Once Dione left, the students started to split up and find a way to crash the wedding, but not for Quartz and Azul. The thing was…

THEY HAD A DAY OFF TODAY and who wants to spend it on a stupid wedding? They had plans!

Event Information:

There are 4 different operations going on at the same time to ruin the wedding because a lot of the students disagreed in which way to take this. You have an option to draw your OC in which ever operation!!

It looks like from the background that the place has no buildings but there are plenty made by Dione:

A building for the cake and food <- ran by geese

A place for the Bride to get ready in

A place for the Groom to get ready in

Dione’s place located on a cloud that is higher than the other clouds so she can watch over yall

A place where the decorations and necessities for the wedding are being delivered by doves, pelicans, storks <- they are also not weak, they dont play. they will fight back if disrupted)

and then the wedding atlar which is just the background it’s outside so its just the resting area

Quartz’s dress, Bride’s Tower, and delivery birds

Operation 1: Ruin the Wedding

Led by Idia. Objective is to ruin the wedding like destroying the cake, decorations, finding Dione’s weakness, ruining the whole set up, exploding shit idk

Description of the attire: Wedding outfits with a bit of technology accessories by Idia Shroud himself. (the leech twins have one ear bud in but i didn’t draw their ears in detail..) You can get creative with the tech accessories

Operation 2: Save the Bride

Led by my MC/Yuu and Grim (you can also add ur Yuus/Mcs in too!!). Objective is to sneak past the geese guards and save Quartz to stop the wedding.

Description of the attire: Wedding outfit is fine !! but you can get creative with it like “oh heh.. im the maid and uhhh quartz shat herself and i need to help her so let me in” or smth 😭😭😭

Operation 3: Do Nothing/Other

Basically you do nothing. Led by nobody lol. What’s your OC’s objective for doing nothing? Do they want to see the wedding? Do they not care enough because it might be over anyways? Is there no hope?

I didn’t draw anyone here bc it’ll be just wedding attire 😭😭

Operation 4: Steal the Groom

This is for all my Azul likers heh.

Since Azul and Quartz are being rushed to get ready, a lot of clothes are being thrown out and sent back in the boxes laying around so why not reuse them? Maybe you can use it to ruin the wedding and steal Azul’s heart awayy once they’re done dressing him up…..

Description of the Attire: Wedding Bride or Groom outfitss hehee

Rules:

NO weird outfits that sexualizes OCs

Use the tag #WedCloudEvent or tag me if you make a post of this event!!

Please be respectful to everyone’s OCs

You can also draw other TWST characters here if you want!!

Have fun!!

Here’s the background for your OCs!!

List of OCs/Characters:

Operation 1: Ruin the Wedding -

Idia Shroud

Floyd Leech

Jade Leech

Moch by @thatsadguymochi

Daphne by @pomevinelle

Yuya by @cheerleaderman

Akshara by @twistedtalestory

Alastor by @chaotic-snow

Yvonne by @juchioris

Kogane by @kogane-twst

Dimitrios by @twsted-void

Cupid by @nivvetsworld

Neuvins by @lapinhearts

Riddle (design by @lapinhearts)

Airinniz by @hanizmiyu

Kozakura Yuuka by @hanizmiyu

Nyx by @blackcat101

Viva by @evexe

Operation 2: Save the Bride -

My Yuu/MC

Grim

Silly by @sillybillymillyrilly

Silver (design by @0ann3 )

Yu (Yuri Takeba) by @0ann3

Loralyn by @chizramue

Mizuki by @sherryclover

Starr by @astral-pr0jecti0n

Xenon by @w0nd3rhoy

Yuubeni by @bunniehunn

Superstar! And Yuu By @imafrealinrainbow478484

Yukitaka by @yumaandyukitaka

Aki by @rinxleona

Rui by @rinxleona

Pluto by @teddyandmochi

Operation 3: Do Nothing/Other -

AJ by @karamatsuboy-aj

Oisín by @xen-blank

Mama Hua by @lafashionlsta

Yuuko by @silkkorchid

Soul by @twistedplayer16

Operation 4: Steal the Groom -

Rémy by @ranas-twisted-wonderland

Ayesha by @iluvmusicxoxo

Yuura by @a-z-rie-l

Alice by @sinjaangels

Djyuu by @djchik

ANYWAYS this is just an event I made out of my ass HELFP im sorry if theres a whole bunch of holes here 😭😭 and Idia and the Tweels outfits are SUPER SLOPPY so I can’t wait to see how everyone else makes their OCs’ outfits prettier also Quartz and Azul do not like each other here so be free to do anything lol

Happy Valentine’s Day! 💕💕💕🎉🎉🎉🎉

[baepsays]

Domesticity is a privilege, and privilege is attracted to Gojo Satoru.

Wait we might need to reiterate that. Because if privilege is attracted to Satoru, and being domestic with the love your life is a privilege — how come he hasn't attracted that wishful life yet!?

I mean he's already privileged (in capitalistic and aesthetic sense), he is hopelessly in love with you, so by default next outcome in this equation must be—you, him, and your cats, chilling in your bed. Just watching the rerun of your overwatched favourite show while the cats cuddle up to you two.

Now the only problem is despite being capitally and aesthetically blessed by default, the whole wooing the love of your life thing doesn't happen by staring at them from a distance while making up little scenarios in your head —how your first date would go, your first kiss, what if you met back in high school, meeting the parents, getting their blessings, getting married, and adopting two cats.

You might call him pathetic, but do not worry his friends do not shy away from voicing that fact out every two seconds. Because every two seconds he's letting out a big sigh and going "y/n would like that." or,

"y/n should try this."

"y/n"-

You get the gist of it. Really- thoughtful of him.

So this brings us here, THE Gojo Satoru sitting on the curb of the sidewalk infront of your building. With a bouquet in his hands, decked up in a three piece (probably Italian) custom suit, tie is tied rather not how a tie should be tied. But it works for him. Everything works for him.

Now do not take him for a creep! He's a gentleman of the highest stature. Gojo is actually waiting here for you for that date he secured with you after graciously asking you (practically begging you and with the help of Geto Suguru who made the dire mistake of introducing you to him in the first place).

"Satoru? What are you doing here?"

That is a valid question to have, to walk up to your building, exhausted after work and to see your date sitting outside your building, on the sidewalk nonetheless. Isn't he loaded? Where is his car even?

"Oh I was waiting for you! What are you doing out so late?" At this point he got up to stand face to face with you (took a lot of courage for him to do that!).

"I had to do overtime and, no, wait. Why are you waiting for me at 2 AM?

"Oh you know to pick you up for our date!"

"Satoru. That is tomorrow. I am supposed to see you at 4 PM tomorrow. Were you planning on to camp out here all night? where is your car??" (my concern as well)

"First of all- I got too excited and I couldn't sleep. sooooo-" he stretches it on, what's about to come next couldn't possibly be any better.

"So I thought I'd put on the suit I bought for our date! Then I thought hmm well now if I sleep in this it'll get creases and I won't have much time to get it ironed. Then I saw the flowers, I was growing to give you, sort of wilting away. And I couldn't possibly give you dead flowers for our first date! And I was waiting in my car, then it got towed away, and-"

"STOP."

What do you even do in this situation? Tell him to go home? How is he going to do that with practically no public transport working at this hour and his car gone. Even you barely caught the last train home. I mean any other individual would get weirded out, get angry, and upset. But you, well,

"How about instant ramen and a movie for a first date, on my couch?"

I suppose you are attracted to Gojo Satoru just as much as privilege is attracted to him. And oh what a privilege it is to be loved and to be wanted like that one soft blanket you just want to snuggle up into at the end of the day.

.

.

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To check out more of my stuff click this.

[mggslover]

How the Unsub Stole Christmas ❆

A Holiday to Remember: part 2

In which the BAU's holiday getaway takes a dark turn when a family is found murdered on Christmas, forcing the team to investigate while reader struggles with painful memories of her past and her growing, unspoken feelings for Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader Genre: crime, angst, smut (18+), fluff, found family Content warnings: graphic cm case descriptions!!, mentions of shitty childhood, reader getting in some unsub trouble, oral (f receiving), p in v sex. Word count: 9k 🫣 i swear it reads really fast A/n: read part 1 first! writing this story genuinely brought me so much joy, and i hope you will experience the same while reading this. this will be my last fic for the year 2024, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the support, i can't wait to see what the new year will bring for this blog. don't forget to interact with this post if you've enjoyed! 🎄🤍 dividers by @issysh3ll

It shouldn’t have surprised you that you’d be called out for another case. Still, the disappointment lingered thick in the air.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Garcia murmured softly, her tone sad. JJ wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in for a side hug. “Don’t worry,” she reassured gently. “The trip isn’t over yet.”

Penelope seemed satisfied enough with that answer, but then spoke up again. “I don’t want to stay here on my own. It’s spooky knowing someone got murdered just miles away.”

“You can come with us to the station. Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss and Y/L/N, you’ll head to the crime scene. A deputy will be waiting for you there.” Hotch instructed. 

You exhaled softly and gave a brief nod. Spencer glanced over at you, his eyes filled with that quiet empathy you’d come to recognize over the years.

“Good luck,” he said, his voice low but sincere.

“Thanks,” you replied, your words equally soft. “You too.”

Half an hour later, you arrived at the crime scene. The neighborhood was so small it hardly felt like one—just a handful of houses scattered across large, snow-dusted plots of land. It looked peaceful, almost idyllic, as if nothing could ever disturb the calm. The street was adorned with Christmas lights and festive decorations. The only thing slightly out of place was a crack in the bench beside one of the houses. Otherwise, the neighborhood looked like it had stepped right out of a holiday card.

As you stepped out of the car, you noticed the few neighbors who hadn’t yet been driven inside by the cold. They stood in clusters in front of their homes, bundled up in scarves and coats, watching the scene unfold with cautious curiosity.

You looked over at Prentiss. “We should start doing some interviews—maybe send a few of them over to the station.”

She nodded, her expression focused. “Got it.” Without another word, she made her way toward them.

You followed Rossi and Derek toward the red wooden house, where the Deputy awaited by the front door. He looked young—probably around your age. 

Rossi introduced you to Deputy Wilson. Wilson gave a sheepish smile, “Sorry it’s just me. Almost the whole department is unavailable because of the holidays.”

“Convenient timing for a murder,” you mused.

“The scene’s been left as it was when we found it,” Wilson continued. “The back door’s been forced open, and you can see boot prints in the snow leading to the backyard.”

Morgan immediately stepped forward. “I’ll get a shot of those prints for Garcia,” he said, already heading toward the backyard.

Wilson looked at you and Rossi. “You want to take a look inside?”

You paused before heading in, shaking the snow from your boots and making sure not to use the doormat—the one engraved with the names of the family members. It felt wrong, almost disrespectful, to dirty the only thing that might be left of them. 

You took in a sharp breath as you entered the house. Your gaze was first taken by the large Christmas tree standing in the corner of the living room, decorated in red and gold. But then you noticed the bloody mess underneath it. Four bodies—two adults and two children—lay scattered on the floor, broken Christmas ornaments surrounding them, as though the killer had dropped them carelessly after his violent act. The mother and father were draped over each other, their throats slit cleanly. The teenage daughter, too, had her throat cut, but her body was twisted in a way that didn’t seem accidental. The small boy—no older than ten—was slumped between them, his face frozen in an expression of terror, a look that would haunt you for days.

The scene before you was a sickening parody of a perfect Christmas. Each of the bodies wore a smile, painted over their lips in blood. It was a mockery of joy, an image of happiness forced onto the dead.

You felt a wave of nausea rise in your throat and turned away, needing a moment to breathe. It was then that you noticed the walls, once filled with family photos, now smeared with blood. Shattered frames lay scattered on the floor, as if the killer had intentionally destroyed everything that was dear to them. 

Rossi spoke first. “The unsub who stole Christmas,” he mused, his tone almost playful despite the grim reality.

You gave a sharp exhale, a brief scoff escaping your lips. “Yeah, you could say that.”

You put on your gloves and picked up a shattered picture frame from the floor. You handed it to Rossi without a word. He took it, studying it for a moment before speaking again. “One thing’s for sure—this wasn’t just a murder. This is deeply personal.”

You nodded, scanning the room. The starkness of the crime scene was still sinking in, but your mind was already running through the facts. “The execution was meticulous,” you murmured, your gaze flickering over the room, “but the aftermath... messy. The unsub rushed out of here—didn’t even bother closing the back door behind him, and those footprints? Almost like he didn’t care at all about leaving evidence. We might even get lucky and find DNA on the bodies.”

Rossi considered it. “It could be that he was in a hurry. In a small neighborhood like this, people will notice anything out of the ordinary. He probably knew he had to move fast.”

You hummed in return. “It still doesn’t add up. You can’t plan a murder with this much detail and then completely overlook how to cover your tracks afterward.”

You took another slow turn around the room, examining the details. Every piece seemed to add to the strange puzzle, but none of it fit together. As you passed the fireplace, something caught your eye: a piece of paper tucked into one of the stockings. You reached for it carefully, your fingers brushing the corner stained with blood.

You unfolded it with precision, revealing the scrawled words in black ink. The sentence was short and written in Latin, a language you hadn’t encountered in years. You stared at it, furrowing your brow as you tried to make sense of it.

“You wouldn’t happen to know Latin, would you?” You asked Rossi, half-joking, though the seriousness in your voice remained.

Rossi looked up, his expression a mix of confusion and dry humor. “Does it look like I know Latin?”

You smiled, already pulling your phone out of your pocket and speed dialing Spencer. As the phone rang, you turned your attention back to the paper, the blood spatter still making your stomach turn.

“Hey,” you breathed out as he picked up the phone after the second ring.

“Hey,” Spencer replied. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft with concern, your single syllable being enough for him to decipher how you feel.

You glanced over your shoulder at the murdered family, swallowing hard before turning away. “I will be,” you responded. Once that fucker is behind bars.

You straightened, pushing the thoughts away, and focused on the task at hand. “I’ve just found a piece of paper at the crime scene. It’s a text written in Latin. I figured it’d be quicker to ask you than wait for Garcia to look it up.”

Spencer hummed in acknowledgment. “Good call. What does it say?”

You glanced at the paper again, stumbling slightly over the unfamiliar words. “Nunc sciunt te perfectum non esse.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line before Spencer spoke, his voice calm but precise. “Nunc sciunt te perfectum non esse. ‘Now they know you’re not perfect.’” His perfect Latin pronunciation made you wince at how poorly you’d read it.

“What’s that supposed to mean? A taunt?”

Spencer’s voice was thoughtful. “Sounds like he’s trying to prove something. It’s definitely personal.”

You exchanged a look with Rossi, who was standing nearby, holding the broken picture frame. “Yeah, that’s what we’ve been thinking. Whoever this unsub is, he knows the Reynolds family intimately.”

“Garcia’s already digging into the family’s background,” Spencer replied without missing a beat, already a step ahead.

“Good,” you muttered, relief washing over you for a moment. “How are things going over there?”

“JJ’s been trying to reach family, but they don’t live nearby,” Spencer answered. “A snowstorm hit. I’ve been tracking the meteorological data, and the chances of them making it are close to zero.” 

You nodded, a dull ache settling in your chest. “Well, I’m going to keep looking around here. The bodies will be picked up soon to go to the lab, and then I’ll be heading over to the station.”

“Alright,” Spencer replied, his tone warmer now. “I’ll see you there. Be careful.”

“Always am,” you said, offering a small smile even though he couldn’t see it.

The words on the note kept drifting through your mind. Maybe it was the sentiment that came with Christmas—or maybe it was the fact that, up until now, you were having a perfect holiday, something you never thought you’d get to experience—that made the scene remind you of your childhood. How everything looked so joyous from the outside, especially during the holidays. But if you looked closely, you’d see the cracks. The ornaments on the tree, hastily glued together, their edges jagged and uneven. The hole in the wall, cleverly concealed behind your stocking. 

You were probably overthinking it. After all, it wasn’t the family that was broken like yours was—it was the unsub who had shattered their picture-perfect life.

Rossi’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You okay, kid?”

You blinked, pulling yourself out of the past and into the present. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

You and Rossi walked into the secluded room the Sheriff had arranged for the team, exchanging your findings with Morgan and Prentiss along the way. You’d made a quick stop at a Chinese takeaway to grab food for everyone, knowing the team needed fuel for the long hours ahead.

The rest of the team was already seated around the table, and Reid was in the middle of showing Hotch something on the map of the neighborhood.

“Oh, you guys are the best!” Penelope sighed, her voice full of appreciation as she caught sight of the plastic bags you were carrying.

“We couldn’t leave you to go hungry,” Emily responded with a grin.

You took a seat closest to where Spencer was standing, and he naturally slid into the chair beside you. You reached into the bag and pulled out the only plastic fork, knowing he’d struggle with chopsticks. He flashed you a grateful, closed-lip smile as he took it from you.

Once everyone had filled their plates, the conversation turned back to the case.

“Garcia dug up some useful info,” JJ began. “Stephen Reynolds owned a construction company that’s on the verge of going bankrupt. It’s possible the unsub was an employee who got fired—or was cut loose because the company couldn’t afford him anymore.”

“It seems like the whole family was targeted,” you added, leaning forward. “The note was left in one of the children’s stockings. It doesn’t feel like the murder was just directed at Stephen.”

“That’s why we need to find out more about the Reynolds family outside of their neighborhood,” Hotch said. “The employees at the construction company could have insight. It’s clear the neighbors aren’t going to give us much.”

Rossi’s eyes narrowed, a skeptical look on his face. “Did they really not give you anything? The neighbors, I mean.”

Prentiss shook her head. “Nothing useful. They kept insisting that the Reynolds’s were a perfect family. They even seemed offended when I pressed for more.”

“That doesn’t sit right. The note specifically mentioned how the Reynolds’s are not perfect.” Rossi replied. 

“I gotta give it to them, though,” Garcia chimed in. “The Reynolds’s are model citizens. The parents were both heavily involved in charity, and the kids have won multiple prizes in spelling bees and other competitions.”

“Has anything bad ever happened in that neighborhood?” Morgan asked, clearly skeptical about the idea of perfection.

Penelope clicked away on her laptop. “Well, there was a fire in one of the houses about ten years ago, because of damaged Christmas lights.” She made a sad face as she continued searching. “Oh, and a cat got stuck in a tree once… didn’t make it.”

“What happened to the family in the house?” Spencer asked.

Penelope’s fingers paused over the keys. “Uh, let me see… The Eriksens died from smoke inhalation. Oh… this is sad. They left a child, Christopher Eriksen. He was put into foster care when he was just eight.”

“Did the Reynolds’s live there when that happened?” JJ asked.

“Yeah, they did. Actually, they organized a fundraiser to build a bench with the parents’ names engraved on it, in their memory.”

You felt your pulse quicken at the mention of the bench. Something about it seemed strangely familiar, but you couldn’t trust your mind right now—not with everything still scattered from the case, and the ghosts of your past tugging at the edges of your thoughts.

You could feel Spencer’s gaze on you, but you decided to ignore it, keeping your focus on Hotch as he spoke up. 

“It’s best if we head back to the cabin to rest up,” he said. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day, and the station’s closing tonight so everyone can spend time with their families.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, the relief of getting some rest evident on their faces. But as the team began gathering their things, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. You hated the idea of putting the case on hold, even if it was just for the night. The face of that little boy kept haunting your thoughts, his wide eyes silently pleading for answers, for peace. You couldn’t help but feel like you were letting him down.

Spencer’s hand snakes up on your shoulder, his warm hold holding you in place. His lips barely moved as he mouthed, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, shaking your head.

The entire car ride had been silent. Spencer’s gaze would occasionally flicker over to you in the backseat, but you kept your eyes fixated on the road, watching the scenery blur past.

The silence stretched on as you said your goodnights to the rest of the team and walked toward your shared room with Spencer. As you both got ready for bed, there was an unspoken tension hanging in the air. Now, lying in the king-sized bed, you both stared up at the ceiling, the quiet stillness between you thick with unspoken words.

“When are we finally going to talk about what’s wrong?” Spencer’s voice broke the silence, careful but insistent.

You stayed quiet for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. “Nothing’s wrong,” you replied, your words coming out a little too quickly.

“There’s obviously something wrong,” he pressed gently. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” you answered honestly. Usually, Spencer never had to push. There was something about him—something warm and patient—that made it easy to open up, to share your thoughts without fear of judgment. But this time, it felt different. It wasn’t just the case. It felt personal, something you couldn’t fully explain.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said, thinking aloud. “It’s just… something’s off. And I don’t know if it’s just me.”

“What do you feel?”

You hesitated. “It sounds stupid,” you muttered, brushing it off.

“Nothing you could say would sound stupid to me.” His words were soft and sincere, making your chest tighten with warmth. You turned your head to face him, noticing the proximity.

“You thought it was stupid that I shower at 115 degrees,” you said with a playful smile.

Spencer let out a soft chuckle, the tension easing just a little. “I don’t think it’s stupid that you like it,” he said, his voice gentle. “I just think it’s stupid that you’d risk hurting yourself over it.”

His eyes warmly looked at you. One hand rested underneath his pillow as he lay on his side. You turned toward him, mirroring his position.

"I’m really struggling with this case," you softly admitted, trying to keep eye contact, though your gaze flickered down, betraying the weight of your words.

“Was it hard seeing the crime scene?”

"Yeah," you choked out, your throat tight. You blinked quickly to try to stop the tears that threatened to spill. “It was... it was horrible.”

His hand reached out to gently rub your bare arm under the blanket. "It’s completely normal to feel affected by what you saw," he began, his voice steady but laced with the kind of empathy that only someone like him could offer. "Witnessing something as violent and horrific as the bodies of two children—it’s traumatic. It’s a lot for the brain to process, especially when it involves young victims. According to studies in neuropsychology, traumatic experiences, particularly those involving children, can cause the brain to release a surge of stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline. It’s not strange that it leads to emotional responses, like anxiety and flashbacks.”

“I’ve been experiencing flashbacks,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. You met his gaze, looking for reassurance, and he gave you the space to speak, waiting patiently. “It actually started earlier today, when we arrived at the cabin. I’ve never experienced a Christmas like this, you know, the kind that feels warm and joyful. I- I don’t know if I’m making connections that aren’t there, but the feeling I had in that house was the same feeling I used to get when I was growing up.”

He tilted his head. "What feeling?"

“...Jealousy.”

His eyebrows knitted. “Jealousy?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, gathering your thoughts. “You could feel so much rage in there. Everything that made the home feel homey—that warmth, that love—was completely shattered. The way the unsub positioned the family members under the Christmas tree, the way the note was tucked into the stocking… There’s a reason for it. Christmas represents this idealized view of perfection. I don’t think the message was to prove that the company going bankrupt is some sort of imperfection in the family’s picture-perfect life. No, it feels like the unsub was jealous of their happiness. Of the fact that they had a family who seemed perfect—something he never had. He wanted to destroy it. To ruin their happiness. He could never have it, so he shattered the illusion of perfection entirely.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, processing your words. “So you think the Reynolds’s were targeted as surrogates?”

“I guess so. But you don’t just stumble across a neighborhood as desolate as theirs.” you responded.

“It could still be one of the employees of the construction company. If Stephen bragged about his perfect family to the wrong person, it could have triggered something.”

You hummed in agreement, but Spencer could see there was more on your mind. He raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

“As I got older, I learned that blaming others wasn’t going to make me feel any better about my situation. It’s like the unsub hasn’t realized that yet. The way he executed this crime—it’s almost like a child throwing a tantrum. He was so meticulous in setting everything up, and then once he got what he wanted, he just… walked away. There was no care for the aftermath, no consideration of what would happen afterward.”

“Do you think the unsub could still be a child?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Your mind clicked, and for the first time, the puzzle pieces seemed to fit together. “How old was the kid when he was put into foster care?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Eight. Why?” Spencer's confusion was evident.

“It’s been ten years since that house caught fire. That would make him eighteen now, and—"

Spencer’s eyes widened as realization struck. “And that he just got out of foster care.”

"Exactly," you said, rolling out of bed and storming downstairs.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Spencer called after you, quickly grabbing his cardigan from the chair in the corner of the room before hurrying to catch up.

“Be quiet, I don’t want to wake anyone.” You instructed, feeling Spencer’s presence behind you as you moved toward the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” he hissed in a whisper as you opened Garcia’s laptop on the table. You didn’t respond, your fingers already flying over the keys as you settled into a chair.

Spencer huffed, knowing full well there was no stopping you once your mind was set. He hovered behind you, draping the cardigan over your shoulders. “I’m not covering for you if Garcia finds out,” he warned, glancing over your shoulder at the screen.

“That’s fine. I know exactly what to say to win her over,” you said nonchalantly, clicking away. In your mind, the image of Spencer in the shower was still vivid—a story you could easily use to distract Penelope if it came to that.

You paused, your heart skipping a beat as you found the file. “Here it is,” you muttered, eyes scanning the information on Christopher Eriksen. You clicked to open it fully, Spencer already reading ahead of you.

“They found bruises all over his body when he was put into foster care,” he read aloud, his voice tense as the words sank in.

You leaned forward, your breath catching. “This is it,” you murmured. “His parents— they must’ve bought into that ‘perfect family’ image of the neighborhood, but behind closed doors, they were hiding this. Can you imagine what it must’ve been like for him? Everyone thinking his parents were saints, while they were hurting him? All the while, they’re the ones who get a memorial bench, their lives celebrated while they tortured him.”

“It was on Christmas that he was put into foster care. Now, it’s the first Christmas since he’s been out. It makes sense to go back to the place where it all started,” Spencer concluded.

“I need to go there,” you said urgently, slamming the laptop shut.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Spencer asked, bewildered. He immediately followed you as you rushed to the door, still in your pajamas. “You’re not seriously planning on going out like that?”

“It’s just a quick peek. I need to see if I was right about the bench,” you said, almost to yourself, already focused on the task ahead. You didn’t even glance behind you as you pulled on your shoes and yanked open the front door, wrapping Spencer’s cardigan tighter around yourself to ward off the cold.

In moments like these, Spencer knew exactly who had trained you. You were unmistakably like Gideon—determined, single-minded, and often impulsive once your mind was set. And that, in turn, always left Spencer in a state of mild panic.

“You can’t drive at night,” he said, his voice rising with concern as he followed you into the snow-covered yard. “You have nyctalopia!”

You didn’t stop, your focus unwavering. “You should take night-blindness seriously, it takes forever for your pupils to dilate, and by that time, you’ve already missed the stop sign or, I don’t know, hit a pothole or something. Your contrast sensitivity goes down, so objects blend into the background, and—did I mention the glare from headlights? Because that’s a huge problem, and it makes it worse! You’re already having trouble seeing, and now the glare from every car that passes is just blinding you. It's like trying to navigate in a fog, but it’s just light fog, which—okay, that’s a really bad analogy, but you get the point!”

His words fell into the background as you continued walking, your mind fully occupied with proving your theory. The case had been driving you mad. If you could just confirm that the bench was broken—that Christopher was the one who’d done it in a moment of anger—everything would click. The case would be solved. You’d give the Reynolds family peace. And, selfishly, you’d give yourself peace.

“Please,” Spencer begged, now standing in front of the car door, blocking your path. “If you’re going, at least let me drive.”

His comment made you halt in front of the car. “You hate driving,” you pointed out.

“I’d rather be uncomfortable for a few minutes than risk something happening to you,” he admitted.

You stared at him, feeling a surge of gratitude for how much he cared, how he believed your theory and was willing to go along with you. 

You reached out and took his hands. It was a gesture he rarely tolerated from anyone, but you’d learned over the years that Spencer appreciated it when it came from you. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Thanks, Spence,” your words were simple but your voice was full of appreciation.

He swallowed, his eyes softening as he nodded. “We’ll just take a quick look, right?”

“I swear,” you promised. “Just a quick look.”

He sighed, still clearly uneasy but unwilling to argue. You handed him the car keys and moved to the passenger side, sliding into the seat. 

—————

Spencer slowed the car as you neared the familiar area, the headlights casting long shadows over the snowy driveway.

"Let’s stop the car here," you suggested. The thought crossed your mind just in time—it would be very inappropriate to drive into a quiet neighborhood with an unknown car at this hour, especially after a murder had taken place.

You and Spencer stepped out of the car, the cold biting at your skin as you walked side by side. You stayed close to him, partly to keep warm, partly to follow his tracks through the snow, the dark pressing in around you. The Christmas lights that had lit up the neighborhood earlier were now off, leaving everything shrouded in an eerie quiet.

You made your way to the bench. Your hand skimmed over the smooth wood, lingering on the top right corner where you felt a distinct break—something sharp and jagged where a piece had clearly been broken off. You exhaled in relief. You were right.

Spencer’s hand shot out to gently grab your wrist, his fingers warm against the cold night air. "Careful," he warned. "You don’t want splinters. Stay here, I’ll grab a flashlight from the car."

You nodded, watching as his footsteps faded into the distance, his figure disappearing into the darkness.

You scanned the area. Everything was silent, beside the occasional crunch of snow beneath your feet. Your eyes were drawn to a dim light flickering from inside the rebuilt house where the Eriksens used to live, just past the bench. Before you could second-guess yourself, your feet were already moving toward the light.

You crept closer to the window, standing on your toes to peak inside. The house was barely furnished, still very much in the process of being worked on before it could be sold. You pressed your hands against the cold glass, forming makeshift goggles with your fingers, your face just inches away from the window as you tried to get a better look.

A sudden pressure on your stomach snapped you out of your thoughts. Before you could react, an arm tightened around your waist, yanking you away from the glass. For a brief moment you thought Spencer was playing some kind of prank, trying to startle you—but the movement was so fast and forceful, you knew Spencer would never grab you that aggressively.

Your gasp caught in your throat, immediately silenced as a cold, rough hand clamped over your mouth. Panic surged, but your body went stiff when the sharp edge of a knife pressed to your throat. You didn’t need any further confirmation that this was the unsub.

"I don’t know who you are," the voice rasped, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. "But you shouldn’t have shown up here."

You could feel his rage, his plan ruined by your unexpected presence. Every instinct screamed at you to fight back, but you remained frozen, knowing that one wrong move could end it all.

“I didn’t plan on killing anyone innocent, but you’ve put yourself in this situation,” he spat, his grip tightening on the knife.

In that fleeting moment, you made a decision. Taking a leap of faith, you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his palm. The sudden bite startled him, and by sheer luck, he loosened his grip on the weapon.

“Christopher!” You shouted, the name ringing out with urgency.

It was enough to catch him off guard. In that instant, you turned, quickly positioning yourself with a better angle. He was taller than you—still, just a boy, consumed by something far beyond his control. His pain was evident, lurking beneath the fury in his eyes. You knew this wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Who are you?” His voice was strained, the words gripping with suspicion and confusion.

“I’m here to help you,” you said sincerely, keeping your voice steady.

“No, you’re not,” he denied.

“I swear I am. I know what happened to you. I know what your parents did to you.”

Without warning, he shoved you hard against the house. Your head slammed into the window, a sharp pain exploding in your skull. “You don’t know anything!” he screamed.

“I do, Christopher. I do!” The words came from a place of desperation, your breath ragged. “I understand. I know how much this eats at you, how alone you feel because you’re the only one who knows the truth. But it doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to hurt anyone else. The truth will come out. People will know what your parents did, what really happened here. You’ll get what you want, the world will see that they’re not perfect.”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—something soft, vulnerable. 

“They all knew what happened!” He said in anger, pointing at the houses surrounding you. “They all knew and no one said anything!” He shook his head, “I’ll never get what I want. It’s too late for that.” he muttered bitterly.

Despite his words, you felt a flicker of hope. He was talking. He was listening. That had to count for something.

“It’s not too late, Christopher,” you firmly spoke. “I thought the same thing once. But family… family isn’t just the people you’re born to. You can build your own, one that will love you despite everything. I’ve got that family now.”

He swallowed hard, his face momentarily flickering with doubt. “I wish I could believe you,” he said, his voice tinged with regret.

And then, in a flash, his arm shot out. Instinctively, you braced yourself, squeezing your eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable strike.

As the seconds stretched on, a flood of memories flashed before your eyes, a cruel reminder of everything you had to lose.

But then, a loud thud echoed in the night. Christopher crumpled to the ground, his body going limp. You whipped your head up, heart in throat, and saw Spencer standing behind him, the butt of his gun covered in blood, the impact of the blow knocking Christopher out cold. 

A shaky breath escaped you, half a sob, half a gasp of relief. You stumbled toward Spencer, your legs nearly giving out as you threw yourself into his arms. 

“I’m so sorry,” you cried into his chest, voice cracking. “I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have—”

He shushed, brushing a hand through your hair as he held you close. “It’s okay. You’re safe now,” he murmured soothingly. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Twenty minutes later, the team and the police arrived. Spencer had called Hotch the second you’d calmed down enough, and by the time they got there, Christopher was still passed out. The officers dragged him into the back of their car, while JJ and Prentiss took it upon themselves to reassure the neighbors that they had someone in custody.

You knew exactly what was coming when Hotch finally made his way over to you and Spencer, but your head was pounding too much to care.

Hotch scanned the two of you with a sharp, disapproving look. “Really? You went to catch an unsub in your pajamas?”

“The whole ‘catching the unsub’ thing wasn’t exactly part of the plan,” you muttered, wincing slightly as the headache flared.

Hotch exhaled sharply, then turned to Spencer, his gaze a little more pointed. “I could’ve expected this from her, but I expected better from you, Reid.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, knowing there was no defense. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Hotch gave a sigh in response, his expression softening just a fraction. “I’m too tired to deal with the two of you right now. I expect to see both of you in my office in the morning.”

“Actually, I checked all the rooms in the cabin, and there’s no office. Which is surprising, considering—”

“Spence,” you interrupted him with a nudge of your elbow.

He shot you a tight-lipped look, turning back to Hotch. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

—————

The second you closed the car door behind you and buckled your seatbelt, you passed out. You’d always slept best during car rides, and especially now, with your mind much quieter now that Christopher Eriksen wasn’t your problem anymore.

When you finally arrived back at the cabin, you were still sound asleep. Derek told Spencer to wake you, but he didn’t have it in him. Instead, he carefully made his way to your side of the car, unbuckling your seatbelt. He lifted you into his arms, trying not to huff too loudly as he carried you through the thick snow. He made his way up the stairs quickly, hoping Penelope wouldn’t notice the wet tracks from his boots inside the house—he couldn’t take them off while holding you.

He was glad you were in your pajamas as he gently laid you on the bed. He walked over to the closet, grabbing some extra blankets and draping them over you, hoping it would help you regain some warmth.

Then, he crawled into bed beside you. Closer than he would’ve dared if you were awake, not quite touching, but close enough to share body heat. His gaze lingered on you, watching how peaceful you looked. The night had been a lot to handle, but he knew he’d do it all again if it meant keeping you safe.

The bright light reflected off the snow outside, filtering into the room. Groaning, you rubbed your eyes, the movement only making your headache worse. You huffed and carefully opened your eyes, being met with the sight of Spencer. His hair was a curly mess, and a small, warm smile painted his face.

“Hey, how’s your head?” he asked softly.

The events of last night rushed back to you, and you groaned again. “So, all of that really happened?”

“It did,” Spencer confirmed.

“I really hoped I just got drunk on too much Glühwein,” you sighed, wincing at the thought.

“You can still do that tonight,” he teased.

“No,” you muttered in disgust. “I need to recover from this first.”

You glanced over at him again, seeing the concern still shining in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for putting you in that situation last night,” you said quietly. “Everything about it was just... stupid.”

“If you hadn’t insisted on going, who knows who else he could’ve hurt,” Spencer pointed out.

“I guess that’s true.” You thought about it for a second, the weight lifting slightly. “Still, I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.”

“I’m glad I went with you,” Spencer said, his voice softening. “If I hadn’t... I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened to you. I would never forgive myself if I wouldn’t have been there in time.”

You gave a heavy sigh, turning your gaze to the ceiling. “That’s why it’s probably best we stay friends,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. Despite Emily’s pep talk, this was proof that it wouldn’t be wise to start something serious with Spencer.

“Friends instead of what?” Spencer asked, his voice higher, as if eager to hear the answer.

“Instead of us dating,” you said, almost offhandedly, not realizing you were speaking aloud about something you’d never discussed before, even though the topic would come up eventually.

Spencer froze, his eyes wide, hope flickering in them as he looked at you. “You would date me?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You froze too, catching up with the fact that you had said that out loud. Your cheeks warmed, and you immediately turned your gaze to the ceiling, not daring to look at his expression.

“Uh—hypothetically,” you stammered, scrambling to cover your tracks.

“You would hypothetically date me?”

You swallowed, still too flustered to look at him. “Yes. If... you would, I mean. If you wanted that, too...?”

Spencer was silent for a beat, his gaze never leaving you. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes,” you answered, your voice steady despite the racing thoughts in your head.

He slowly moved closer to you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You flinched back instinctively, and he immediately withdrew his hand, his expression apologetic.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your heart beating faster.

“You said you’d want to date me,” he murmured, his voice unsure.

“Yes, but—” you stopped yourself as the realization hit that he was planning to kiss you. “Oh.”

Tentatively, you reached out and placed your hand on his cheek. You leaned in a little, but this time it was him who pulled back.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice breathless.

“Kissing you.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, his tongue darting over his lips. “Okay.”

You smiled softly, then closed the distance, your lips gently pressing to his.

Spencer hummed in satisfaction, both of you staying like that for a moment, neither of you wanting to pull away. You were the first to break the kiss, catching your breath. If it were up to Spencer, he’d keep his lips on yours forever.

Your eyes fluttered open, faces still inches apart. Spencer cupped your face and pulled you back in, placing several soft pecks on your lips before he leaned on his arm, slightly hovering over you as he deepened the kiss.

You tried to mirror his movements, but a sharp pain shot through your skull. “Ouch,” you hissed, pulling back.

“Just lay down, let me take care of you,” Spencer assured, the warmth of his words making your heart flutter. You slowly lower yourself onto your back, the soft sheets crinkling beneath you, and Spencer moves above you, the blankets still covering both of you.

His lips found yours again. He kept them slightly parted, giving you the chance to slide your tongue against his. The world outside seemed to disappear as you melted into each other, lips moving in sync.

The kisses become more heated, each one a little deeper than the last. His hand moved to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek, the other hand resting on your side, his touch sending little sparks of warmth wherever it brushed.

You could feel the heat between you growing. “I’m so warm…” you mumbled against his lips. 

His eyes darkened slightly. “Yeah?” His voice was rough as his fingers lightly trailed over the buttons of your pyjama shirt. “Do you want me to take this off?”

You nodded, and he slowly started undoing each button with purposeful care. His gaze flickering between your eyes and the exposed skin. He let out a moan when your shirt finally fell open, his eyes taking you in. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out in awe, before pressing his lips to yours again. 

You responded eagerly, your hands fumbling between your bodies to undo his shirt in the same way. You slid the fabric off his shoulders, letting your hands run over the muscles of his back, feeling the heat of his skin. 

He gently pressed his body weight down on you, and you shuddered at the feeling of your nipples pressing against his bare chest.

His lips delicately kissed your face, until he reached your ear. He nipped at your lobe, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. “Do you like that?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You answered in a soft moan, your body arching into him. He didn’t need to ask again; he could tell you were enjoying this as much as he was.

His lips slid lower, kissing and sucking on your neck, while his hand slid down to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, teasing circles.

His mouth moved to your collarbone, and then he teasingly dipped lower.

“God, Spence,” you softly moaned as he placed a wet kiss on your lower stomach. “That feels so good.”

His hand, which has been resting on your breast, trails down until it reaches the waistband of your pyjama pants.

“More, please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips instinctively. His fingers slide around the band as he slowly pulls them down, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

He lowers himself onto his stomach on the mattress. With a tender touch, he lifts your legs over his shoulders.

“Is this okay?”

For a moment, you’ve lost yourself in his gaze—those warm brown eyes looking up at you, his pink lips swollen from his kisses…

“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond, nodding.

You moaned as his mouth made contact with your inner thighs, his tongue warm and wet against your skin. He took his time, kissing his way to the sensitive spot where you needed him most.

“Spencer…” you breathed, your voice shaky with need.

The anticipation was unbearable as his hot breath tickled you, but you didn’t have to wait much longer. Slowly, his tongue flicked over your pussy, and you gasped, your body trembling at the touch.

He moaned in response, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you, his tongue swirling in soft, teasing motions that had your hips lifting off the bed in search of more. 

“So fucking sweet,” he muttered against you, before repeating the motion, licking you again and again, while he grinded himself against the matress.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer, deeper, your body quivering as he continued. He alternated between sucking and licking your clit, his finger moving up and down your pussy until it entered you gently, then slowly adding another, the stretch an overwhelming pleasure. 

You gasped his name, your body writhing beneath him as the pressure built with every move. “Spencer… please, don’t stop…” you begged, voice thick with need.

His fingers curled inside you, pressing just the right spot as his tongue continued swirling around you. Your legs started trembling as you reached the edge.

“I’m—“ you gasped, but the words dissolved into a string of moans as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your legs were shaking as you came undone, clenching around his fingers, your hips bucking against his mouth. 

Spencer didn’t stop, though. He kept going at a gentle pace, letting you ride out the intensity of your orgasm. Then, he slowly pulled away, his lips glistening as he looked up at you, eyes wide and full of wonder. 

“Was that good?” he asked softly, licking his lips. 

You laughed breathlessly as you nodded, your chest still rising and falling rapidly. “Come here,” you whispered seductively, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him. You could taste yourself on his lips, which only added to your arousal.

Spencer’s eyes darkened with desire, his forehead pressed to yours. “I need you. I need to be inside of you.”

You nodded, moving your hand down his body, feeling the hardness of him against your palm. He helped you pull his pants down, and you stroked him gently, feeling him twitch in your hand before guiding him toward your entrance. He let out a low groan, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly pushed into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, his hips stuttering as he filled you completely. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his thrusts grew deeper, more urgent.

You could feel every inch of him, every movement as his cock repeatedly hit those places inside that made your head spin. The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, your moans mixing with his ragged breaths.

“You’re so warm,” Spencer whimpered. “So perfect for me.” 

Your hands gripped his back, nails digging into his skin as you urged him on, your body moving with his. His pace quickened, and you couldn’t hold back the desperate cries that escaped you. 

“Spencer… I’m so close,” you gasped.

“Me too,” he moaned, his hips slamming into yours. “Let me come with you. Please, let me come with you.”

You nodded, your body trembling. “Now, Spencer…” you begged in a breathless plea.

His breath hitched, his body tensing as he gave one last deep thrust, and then, with a loud, guttural moan, he came inside you. You followed a moment later, your body clenching around him as you fell apart. 

The room was filled with nothing but your ragged breaths, the sound of two bodies, tangled in a quiet, shared moment of bliss. Spencer collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling as he took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.

“That was… perfect,” he whispered, his voice full of awe.

You smiled softly as you placed your head on his chest, fingers lazily tracing his stomach. “Yeah,” you said in a breath, your heart full of him. “It really was.”

You let out a soft groan as Spencer stood up, and you instinctively reached for his hand, pulling him back toward you. “Don’t go yet,” you pouted.

Spencer smiled, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and affection. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, wrapping a blanket around his waist before walking to the corner of the room. He rummaged through his bag, his back turned to you for a moment as you blatantly checked him out.

“I miss you,” you murmured, leaning back into the pillows.

He chuckled softly, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m not even five feet away from you.”

You shrugged, your voice a little teasing. “Still feels like you're miles away.”

With a smile, he walked back toward you, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his hands behind his back. “Which hand?” he playfully asked.

“Left,” you replied without hesitation.

He swiftly shifted the small box he’d been holding from his right hand to his left, then grinned, revealing the gift. “Here you go.”

You blinked in surprise. “That was your present?” you asked, your voice filled with wonder as you recognized the familiar wrapping Garcia had handed you the day before.

Spencer nodded, watching you closely. “Yeah. Open it.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you unwrapped the gift, your heart racing with excitement. Beneath the paper was a velvet black jewelry box. You glanced up at Spencer, your eyes searching his for affirmation. He gave a soft nod, accompanied by an encouraging smile.

With a gentle flick of your fingers, you opened the box—inside was the most stunning heart-shaped locket you’d ever seen.

“Oh my God, Spencer,” you breathed out, feeling a mixture of awe and disbelief. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”

A shy smile tugged at Spencer’s lips as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it behind his ear. “It used to be my mom’s,” he explained. “She doesn’t wear jewelry much anymore, but she wanted me to keep it... to give it to someone special one day.”

Your heart melted at the thought, and you looked at him with newfound tenderness, the weight of his gesture sinking in. 

“She was happy when I told her I wanted to give it to you,” he added.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Your mom knows about me?”

Spencer nodded, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I tell her pretty much everything. She likes hearing about you most.”

“Why?” You curiously asked.

Spencer's smile deepened, and he looked down at his lap for a moment, as though gathering courage. When he looked up at you again, his eyes were full of love.

“Because you make me happy.”

After your intimate moment with Spencer, the inevitable conversation with Hotch had to happen. Just before the talk, Hotch received a call from the lab confirming the DNA found on the Reynolds matched Christopher Eriksen’s—meaning the bittersweet news of Christopher going to prison.

“I still don’t get how the two smartest people on the team act like half a brain when they’re together,” Hotch had said with a half-smile, glancing at you and Spencer. “But… you did good work.”

—————

Later that morning, Emily spotted you, her eyes immediately drawn to the locket around your neck. “Fancy,” she commented, her smirk growing as she cocked an eyebrow. “Where did that come from?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you absently played with the necklace, a soft smile on your lips. “It’s Spencer’s. He gave it to me.”

Emily’s smirk turned into a knowing smile, and you could see the proud glint in her eyes. “You two are something else.”

—————

Throughout the day you and Spencer did your own thing, trying to act casual in front of the team—yet every time his hand brushed your back or he leaned in for a quick kiss in the empty hallway, your heart fluttered. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at him as he played chess with Rossi, your eyes catching his in those fleeting moments.

You felt Spencer’s presence behind you like a familiar warmth as you stood in the kitchen. He slipped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses.

“Who would’ve thought you’d be such a romantic?” you mused, running your fingers through his hair, the feeling of him against you enough to make your heart race.

His lips hummed against your skin. “It’s your fault,” he stated, his voice thick with affection. “You drive me crazy.”

You tugged him up the stairs to your shared room, pushing him playfully onto the bed. You stood between his legs as you began to slowly peel away your clothes, revealing the red laced lingerie set Derek had gifted you during Secret Santa.

“Never thought I’d be thanking Derek for gifting you this,” Spencer mused, his hands sliding up and down your legs, a smirk displayed on his lips.

You smiled, tracing his jaw with your thumb, the heat between you growing. “What do you think of checking out the hot tub?” you purred.

He swallowed nervously, his eyes flicking down to his lap. You rolled your eyes as you responded in a sigh, “You can choose the temperature.”

Before you could say another word, he scooped you up, lifting you over his shoulder with a playful slap to your ass. You yelped, giggling as he carried you off toward the bathroom.

—————

The cabin was large, but unfortunately not big enough to avoid Garcia, so you knew what was coming when you heard the familiar sound of her heels clicking against the hallway floor. She was heading straight toward you, her finger pointing accusingly at you.

“I slept with Spencer.” you hurriedly spilled out before she could say something.

She stopped in her tracks. Her face went through a thousand different expressions in the blink of an eye—confusion, disbelief, excitement—before she finally let out a high-pitched squeal. “You... you slept with Spencer?”

“Twice,” you giddily answered, the smile creeping across your face before you could stop it.

Garcia’s expression finally broke into a huge grin, and without missing a beat, she grabbed your hands and started bouncing on the spot. “Derek is gonna lose his mind!”

You barely had time to protest before she was already up the stairs.

As the end of the day drew near, the group gathered around the fire pit in the backyard, cocoa mugs in hand, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on everyone’s faces. 

“Are you sure your phone is on silent?” Garcia asked Hotch, eyeing him with suspicion.

“I’m sure, Garcia,” Hotch replied with a small smile.

She was satisfied, her focus shifting to Rossi. “The honor is yours. You may present the last Secret Santa gift.”

Rossi cleared his throat, glancing around awkwardly. “Now, this might sound like a cheap excuse for forgetting to buy a present…” Laughter rippled through the group, and Garcia shot him an offended look. “But... I think I can speak for all of us when I say the best gift is us being together in this beautiful location.”

He turned to Hotch, his voice genuine. “Aaron, you’ve built a good team here. A good family. You should be proud.”

Hotch’s smile softened, his eyes briefly glancing over the group, the weight of the moment settling on him. “I am. Thank you, David.”

And for the first time, you didn’t question whether you deserved a place in this loving, dysfunctional family—you knew you belonged.

[nerdygirlramblings]

Off to See the Wizard (5)

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It takes you over an hour to get your brain online because after that talk at breakfast, John walked you to your office and kissed you. It was a kiss on the cheek, but still.

His lips.

Your skin.

Your brain short-circuted.

There was no way to deny it, even to yourself: Captain John Price was interested. In you. Romantically.

You try to shove the little gleeful voice - the one with crushes on all your boys - to the side so you can work. But she keeps chirping about the kiss. About how his beard felt, rough and soft at the same time. About how warm his lips were. About the promise look in his eyes as he pulled back and whispered, "'Til later, dove"

You finally put the kiss in a box of 'Things to Deal With Later' and focus on digging back through mission intel again. You flag two items to bring up with Laswell and a third to follow-up with John about. You're not sure how a closed door meeting with the captain will go after this morning's display, and you pray he's better at separating work and play than you.

You find your groove and are startled by a knock at your office door. You glance at the clock and see it's nearly 2. After being so rattled by John's admission, you'd gotten into the zone and practically missed lunch. You almost expect it's going to be one of your boys. You don't know if you want them to come to you or not.

You're surprised to find Corporal Avery on the other side. "Ma'am," she inclines her head politely. "Cap'n Price wanted to make sure you ate. Told me to help you find the mess and said to tell you, 'I know you're a big girl, but you haven't tried to find your way around on your own yet.' 'm supposed to let you lead and correct the path if necessary." She looks apologetic as she says it, like she understands the ridiculous nature of the command, but since it is a command, she's going to follow it.

You close up your workspace and follow the corporal into the hall where she lets you take the lead. You're loathe to admit you probably need the guide as the corporal corrects your directions at least twice. At least she's polite about it. "Almost got it, ma'am. Another trip and you won't need help at all."

Lunch is a quiet affair as most of the mess has already cleared out. Corporal Avery stays with you but tells you she ate with her squad earlier. "Don't want you to eat alone," she says. "Besides, I wanna make sure you've got the route between your office and food down pat as my guess is your barracks, your office, and the mess are where you'll spend time while the 141 is on mission."

You hadn't given much thought to what you'd do when the boys are gone, but it strikes you suddenly how lonely things will be. You only know your boys, and now Corporal Avery, but that doesn't leave much for socialization when they're away. "Hey, Corporal? Is there someplace on base - besides the mess - people hang out? Like, I dunno, a base rec room or something?"

She looks at you for a long moment, her brow furrowed in question before a look of understanding passes over her face. "Uh, yeah. There are a few. I'd be happy to show you where they are, introduce you to a few other soldiers and civilian employees." You smile gratefully at her, glad she picked up your subtext. "We can do it after the 141 are gone."

The latter part of your day is spent contemplating Corporal Avery's comment to you. You'd been a little surprised when she hadn't offered to show you to the base common spaces sooner, so you asked. She floored you when she admitted she could but "thought, what with them leaving, you'd like to spend as much time as possible with Captain Price first."

Are your desires, or his, that obvious? Certainly she'd seen the two of you together in the hallway that morning, but that couldn't have been enough for her to draw the conclusions she was drawing, was it? And if so, is she telling other people? Does the whole base know? Does the rest of the 141?

You know you're spiraling, but you can't seem to stop yourself. It takes a series of repeated knocks at your door and someone calling your name for you to come back to yourself. You see it's about 7:00 and expect this is someone - Corporal Avery or one of the boys - come to drag you to dinner.

You open your office door and see Simon standing in the hall. He's still wearing a mask, but you see enough of his eyes to tell he's smiling. "Evenin' luv," he says, stepping up beside you. "Ready for a meal?" You nod at him and start walking toward the mess, ready to show him you can find you way without getting lost.

As you walk, he matches your stride and casually drapes an arm over your shoulder. "Look a' ya, already a natural on base. 'S like you belong here." You beam at the praise and don't miss the way his arm tightens ever so slightly at his last comment.

"Like havin' you 'ere, luv," he says, so quietly you can act like you didn't hear it. And you're tempted to ignore it because that's a lot easier than dealing with what it might mean. When your silence stretches too long, however, Simon slows you both down. "D'ya like bein' 'ere?"

You give an enthusiastic, if non-committal, "Of course!"

"D'ya like bein' with me?"

You're almost at the mess, can see the door from here, but you stop dead in your tracks at his question. "What?" you squeak out.

Simon turns to look directly in your eyes. The emotion in his gaze is raw: desire, fear, vulnerability. He searches you long enough you feel he's looking at your soul. "I need to know, luv, if ya like me."

You try to go for a quip, but it dies on your lips. You whisper, "I'm not sure what you want me to say, Simon. I'm not sure what to do here."

He looks pained when he pleads, "Say ya wan' me like I wan' you."

And for the second time today, your brain simply stops responding.

series masterlist | main masterlist

~~

Taglist: @blackhawkfanatic @starriestarlight @grayskel @mxtokko @imjustheretofightforlove @miss-vanta-likes-to-write @thriving-n-jiving @madsothree @silly-starfish @danielle143 @beelzebee @nova-willow-541 @alchemyfreak321

[lilacmingi]

SECOND CHANCES

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. And please don’t spam-like!

Pairing: Best friend!Yunho x fem reader (feat. Mingi)

Word count: 13,600

Note: I’ve written yet another imagine that’s 10K+ words oopsie. This one is a best friends to lovers because 1. Yunho fits it SO well and 2. I’m a sucker for that trope 🤧

The savory scent of meat being seared over an open grill wafted in the air, making your mouth water, the sizzle of the pork like music to your ears.

"Make sure you get a good char on it, Yunho." San mentioned, leaning over the table a bit.

Said man, seated beside you, nodded and flipped the pieces of pork over the grated surface. "Got it."

Mingi had invited you and the other guys out for dinner, not giving much of an explanation as to why, but none of you were one to turn down an invite to go eat, so you all agreed to meet up at a Korean BBQ restaurant.

Seated next to Mingi was his girlfriend whom he had been with for a year and a half. She was really sweet and fit in with the friend group well. There was only one teensy problem—you had a massive crush on Mingi.

Seeing him shoulder-to-shoulder with her made your stomach twist, even now after a year and a half. It was devastating when he first announced that he had met someone. Of course, you put on a happy face and pretended to be excited, but on the inside you felt sick. Yunho, one of the boys that you were closest with in the friend group, knew how you felt about Mingi and comforted you when you needed it. It was hard on you at first, but eventually got easier. His girlfriend was introduced to the group and it was impossible to dislike her, especially since none of what was happening was her fault. No one knew you liked Mingi, except Yunho.

The only silver lining in the whole situation was the possibility of them breaking up someday. It was a horrible thing to think, especially since the two of them got along like two peas in a pod, but a small part of you hoped one day it would happen.

"Y/n, you wanna have first taste?" Yunho's voice pulled you from your daze, a piece of beautifully-grilled pork held in front of your face between a pair of tongs.

Blinking yourself back to the present, you put on a smile, ignoring San's whining and complaints about not getting to have first bite as you took the piece between your teeth.

"Mmm!" Your eyes brightened at the flavors and you nodded approvingly.

"Alright." Yunho beamed, his heart flipping at the expression on your face. "Pork is done. He announced, placing each piece onto a plate for serving.

You picked up your chopsticks and started taking portions from the bowls and plates of various dishes spread along the table. Leaning forward a bit, you attempted to reach for a bowl of your favorite dish, your chopsticks not quite reaching their intended destination.

"I'll get it for you." Yunho cut in, stretching his much longer arm across the table, grabbing a few bite-sized portions of it and placing it onto your plate.

"Is that enough or would you like more?"

"That's enough for now. Thank you." The eye smile you gave him in return made his chest fill with warmth, a shy grin making its way onto his face.

"Is there any kimchi over there?" Wooyoung asked, peering down the table.

"Right here." Yeosang responded, pointing with his chopstick.

"Can you pass it to me?"

"No."

"Please? I'll do aegyo for it."

At that, Yeosang grabbed the small bowl and immediately passed it down to Wooyoung, who seemed mildly offended at his friend's quick jump to action.

"Why'd you react that way?" He asked with a frown.

"I'm not putting anyone here through that."

The table erupted in scattered laughter and chuckles at the playful jab from Yeosang. Things were often like this with the boys; lots of goofing around and teasing one another. It was one of many reasons why you liked having them as your friends.

Throughout the meal, the group talked amongst themselves, reminiscing on memories of the last time you all got together as well as general talk of how delicious the food was. The plates had long been emptied and the afternoon was coming to a close when Mingi cleared his throat, standing from his chair. Everyone's attention was turned to him as he opened his mouth to speak.

"So there's a reason why I invited you all out tonight." He rubbed his palms anxiously over his upper thighs. "I wanted you all to be here for this."

You watched as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a black velvet box, your eyes widening. Mingi then turned to his girlfriend and pushed his chair aside so he could get down on one knee.

"I know we've been dating for a year and a half now, and that might not seem very long for some people, but I've been thinking about this for a while and I can't stand the thought of not spending the rest of my life with you."

Suddenly, all the food you'd eaten felt like it was going to come back up, your stomach churning with an uneasy feeling that only got worse as the next words left his mouth.

"Will you marry me?"

Mingi's girlfriend had her hands over her mouth in shock, the typical reaction of a proposee. She nodded her head, muffled joyous giggled leaving her before she pulled her hands away and held Mingi's face, leaning in to kiss him.

You felt like you were gonna be sick.

As much as you tried not to watch, you couldn't tear your eyes away when Mingi plucked the glimmering ring from it's box and placed it onto her trembling hand.

That was the icing on the cake, the final punch to the gut.

Everyone clapped, cheering for the couple and it took everything in you to play along as an unsavory wave of emotions hit you, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. It wasn't jealousy. Well, maybe it was a little jealously, but for the most part it was guilt and longing. Guilt for never trying to spend more time with him or hint at how you felt.

Yunho seemed to take notice of your artificial reaction, knowing how you felt about Mingi. He frowned, leaning in a bit before whispering under the clamor of celebration, "Are you okay?"

You forced a tight smile while nodding, attempting to be blasé about the whole situation, but Yunho knew better.

His expression turned melancholy, eyes drooping with the corners of his mouth.

"Y/n, it's okay. I understand."

"I'm fine." You kept that same strained smile plastered on your face, a fallacious facade that seemed not to raise suspicions with anyone except Yunho.

Despite the chipper uptick in your tone, he knew you weren't well and that watching the proposal unfold had done a number on you emotionally, stirring up lingering feelings that hadn't gone away even after all these years.

He watched as everyone said their goodbyes and you gave Mingi and his new fiancé well wishes, his heart clenching at the sight. He knew it was killing you inside to be doing that. Lingering by the entrance of the restaurant, he stopped you on your way out.

"You wanna go somewhere and talk about it?"

He had always been a shoulder to cry on when you needed it and despite how much it hurt him to see you so attached to Mingi, he refused to leave you hanging.

You shook your head, declining his offer. "Thanks but I think I just wanna go home."

He nodded, pushing away the dull ache of disappointment. "I understand. Just let me know if you need anything—and I mean anything, okay?"

"I will. Thanks, Yunho. You're a good friend."

He winced imperceptibly at the stinging words that felt like a slap to the face. But that's all he was to you, right? A friend.

"Of course. Anything for you."

Three years. You wasted three years secretly and silently crushing on Mingi, too afraid to speak your feelings. And half of that time, he was in a relationship. If only you could've been brave enough to say something. It's all you could think about on the drive home. Wasted time.

Speaking of wasted time, the remainder of the day was spent binging shows and YouTube videos—any media that would occupy your attention span and take your focus off the events of that evening. It worked... for a little while. Even a hot shower didn't do the trick. It just gave you a quiet space to ruminate on what had happened.

As you lied down in bed that night, you stared at the ceiling and memorized the shadows the moon casted on its textured surface, your brain too awake to get you to the point of rest.

"It's out of your control." You whispered under your breath, closing your eyes.

The words were repeated in your head as you focused on your breathing, willing yourself to forget about it for the night in favor of some needed sleep. Eventually, the mantra faded out and you slowly drifted off.

The next day you couldn't shake the heavy feeling in your chest. It was unpleasant and no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself from it or push it away, it always came back.

What you needed was to get out of the house, get some sunlight, maybe even indulge in a little retail therapy.

You somehow managed to get out of your slump long enough to get ready and head out, walking down the street with your headphones shoved into your ears, using music to drown out your thoughts.

A quaint thrift shop with cozy-looking stained glass lamps and porcelain vases in the window caught your attention, slowing you to a stop. Printed in a vintage font on a sign were the words, Utopia Antiques. You always did like thrift shops and secondhand items so you decided to check out the place and scope it out.

The bell hanging above the door jingled at your entry and an elderly man behind the counter lifted his gaze from an old brass pitcher in his hands that he appeared to have been examining. He pushed his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, acknowledging you with a smile.

"Hello, young lady."

"Hello." You greeted him.

"Is there anything in particular I can help you find today?"

"No. I'm just browsing."

"Well, there's lots to browse." He smiled warmly, vaguely gesturing to the shelves of knickknacks and tchotchkes. "Take your time."

Moving further into the shop, your wandering eyes perused the various items lined up. There were small carved wooden chests, old jewelry boxes, and vintage metal signs. As you headed towards the back of the shop, a particular item grabbed your attention, standing out amongst the others; a bronzy gold hourglass glinting under the fluorescent lights. You carefully brought the item down off the shelf, examining it briefly before lifting the little tag tied to it. The price written was a little steep, perhaps slightly more than you would've liked to pay for it, but there was something about the hourglass that drew you in. It was beautiful and the design of it was eye-catching. You carried it around the shop with you until you were ready to check out.

"Oh. Very interesting." The man marveled when you placed the hourglass onto the counter. "This just arrived a couple days ago. It was found on a old ship, y'know."

"Really?" You inquired.

"Mhm. I receive items from many places. Auctions, old homes, old mansions, and on occasion, ships. I also pawn."

"Was that brass pitcher I saw you with earlier one of those things?"

"As a matter of fact, it was. Someone brought that in just a few minutes before you came in."

"Everything here looks like it's taken care of." You gestured to the many shelves lined with knickknacks.

"Oh, yes. I clean and polish everything I receive and I only take things I deem to be valuable. No junk here." He chuckled gruffly, removing the paper tag tied to the framing of the hourglass.

Your eyes wandered around the shop's interior again before landing on the man, who was pressing buttons on the register. He adjusted his glasses and turned to you with a smile, giving you the total.

Once the transaction was complete, he wrapped some old newspaper around the hourglass to keep it cushioned before bagging it, dropping your receipt in with your purchase.

"Thank you so much." You put on a friendly grin, carefully taking the bag from him.

"Have a nice day, young lady."

"Thank you. You too." You gave the shop owner a small wave and made your way out the door.

You left the antique shop feeling a bit better and the brief but pleasant conversation you shared with the man running the small business was a nice distraction from your turbulent thoughts. And the hourglass you bought would make a nice addition to your desk space in your bedroom or even on a shelf. You'd have to decide later.

You weren't exactly ready to go home just yet, as you hadn't been out of the house for too long, so you stopped by a small cafe and bought yourself a beverage. Sometimes a little treat helped when you were feeling down and this one certainly did.

While walking around town, you sipped on your drink and stopped in a few local shops to peruse, but didn't find anything that was particularly interesting or worth purchasing.

The low noise of the air conditioner greeted you as you stepped past the threshold of your home, your new purchase clutched in your hand. Kicking the door shut, you headed into your bedroom, tugging off the plastic bag and removing the newspaper from around the hourglass. Your eyes scanned one of the bookshelves in your room, trying to figure out the right place for your new item.

Even after your retail therapy, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret that weighed heavily on your shoulders and in your chest, part of you feeling like there might've been a possibility that you'd be the one Mingi proposed to if you'd done things differently.

Your gaze moved down to the hourglass, your fingertips rubbing along the curved, brassy gold bars that surrounded the sand-filled glass bulbs like a protective cage of sorts. You absentmindedly traced the shape of it while wondering what it might've been like to be proposed to by Mingi. To be the one he couldn't bear to live the rest of his life without. A heavy exhale left you as your fingers came rest at the peak of the hourglass. Without thinking much of it, you turned it, watching as the granules of sand shifted inside with the gravity and began slipping through the narrow neck and into the bottom bulb.

It was a little early to go to bed, but you didn't feel like doing anything other than sleeping, so you set the hourglass in an empty space on your shelf and went through your nightly routine.

It was almost ridiculous how much this whole engagement thing had affected you.

You should've done more instead of being scared. You should've tried harder, maybe even confessed your feelings. You might've had a shot if you'd just done something besides silently admiring him.

Closing your eyes, you let out an exhale, forcing your muscles to relax. There was nothing that could be done. What happened happened and there's no redoing it. No second chances. You'd just have to get over it and move on.

As you drifted off to sleep, the last grains of sand slipped through the narrow neck of the hourglass and it began to glow.

A soft, drowsy murmur escaped your lips as you slowly returned to the waking world. Cracking open your bleary eyes, you were met with the sight of a different set of sheets—ones you used to have on your bed, but had since changed. With furrowed brows, you rubbed your eyes as they adjusted to the daylight and you looked around your room. The decor was different. Posters you'd replaced quite some time ago were hanging back up and knickknacks you'd either boxed up or sold were sitting on your shelf.

My room hasn't looked like this in nearly... two years.

You froze, fully awake and alert now. Scrambling for the cell phone on your nightstand, you looked at the date as the screen lit up.

"No." You murmured, opening up the calendar app to get a more precise time only to have your heart drop to your feet.

This had to be a dream, right? There was no way you were in the past. Your fingers came up to pinch yourself on the upper arm harshly but all you did was yelp when a sharp pain stung the area.

Your head was spinning, chest tight, hands trembling. You were two years in the past.

At this point, you were seated upright in bed, gripping handfuls of your hair in a stressed manner. How? How did this happen? Was it a wish? Some strange miracle? Something in your mind clicked into place and suddenly it made sense.

The hourglass. You turned it just before going to bed.

Your hand came up to clutch your chest, your erratic heart rate thumping against it, reminding you of just how shocking this all was to you.

Once again, you snagged your phone, checking the date again, realization dawning on you. It was exactly a month before San's birthday. As you recalled, San had a party at the bowling alley, which is where Mingi ended up meeting his fiancé.

Were you perhaps getting a do-over?

If that was the case, you had a month to spend more time with Mingi before he met his future fiancé. You could do things differently this time. You could win over Mingi.

Your phone pinged in your hand and you glanced down at it to find a text notification from Yunho. He and Mingi were going to grab coffee and he wanted to know if you'd like to tag along. This happened exactly as you remembered it, though last time you said no and opted to stay home. Since you originally declined the offer, you chose to say yes this time, sending a quick response to Yunho before getting ready.

You arrived at the coffee shop, riddled with both nerves and excitement. You were getting a second chance.

The warm and welcoming aroma of rich coffee greeted you when you stepped into the cafe. Yunho and Mingi were already there, seated at a table by one of the large windows at the front of the establishment. They both waved your over with bright smiles.

"Didn't expect you two to get here so quickly." You commented while reaching to pull a chair out, but before you could, Yunho had done it for you. "Ah. Thank you." You lowered yourself into the seat. "Anyway, I hope you two weren't waiting on me."

"We haven't been here long." Mingi said, taking a sip of his iced americano. "Maybe five minutes."

"Good."

"I went ahead and ordered for you, Y/n." Yunho spoke up, sliding a cup towards you. "This is your favorite, right?"

Your brows raised and a small smile pulled at your lips.

"No, she likes plain coffee." Mingi chimed in before you could utter a single word.

You reached out to pull the cup closer to you. "It is this one. Thanks, Yunho."

He returned your small smile as you took a sip, humming softly at the flavor.

"This hits the spot."

Your eyes lingered on Mingi, taking in his sharp facial features before moving down to check out the rings on his fingers. "I like your rings."

"Oh." He stretched his digits apart to show off the jewelry adorning them. "Thanks. This one here is new." He pointed to one on his right index finger, a chunky silver ring with a square black stone on it.

As he talked about his rings and where he bought them, you were completely locked in, hanging onto every word he said. Unbeknownst to you, Yunho was doing some staring of his own, his gentle eyes full of longing as he gazed upon you, watching the way your own eyes twinkled in interest as Mingi went on. You were so enamored and Yunho could only wish you'd look at him that way.

"I've got my eye on one with a skull on it. It looks pretty cool." Mingi finished.

"Oh." You nodded enthusiastically.

"That color looks really good on you, Y/n." Yunho spoke up, grabbing your attention.

You glanced down at the top you were wearing and smiled at his compliment.

"It brings out your eyes." He added.

"Oh. Thank you." You let a tiny giggle slip out, flattered by his sweet words.

The three of you chatted and sipped on your drinks, enjoying each other's company. You were a lot more talkative with Mingi and really put forth an effort to engage in conversation, even going as far as lightly touching his shoulder while laughing, hoping to drop a hint. You weren't that way with him before, but since you were getting a chance to change things, you were doing everything you possibly could to show interest.

"And then Wooyoung nearly got sick after the roller coaster." Yunho finished through laughter, recalling a memory from the year prior when you all took a group trip to the amusement park.

"Yeah, he vowed to never eat funnel cake again after that." You cackled, dabbing away the tears at the corners of your eyes, letting out a long exhale as the laughter slowly died down. "That was a good day."

"It was." Mingi nodded. "I remember you tried so hard to win that cat plushie from the ring toss. What did you end up naming it? Pickles?"

"It was a dog plushie named Puddles because you said his brown paws looked like he'd been running in mud puddles." Yunho recollected with a small smile.

"Yeah, that's it." You nodded, grinning widely.

"Ah, that's right. Though I could've sworn it was a cat." Mingi murmured, shrugging.

"Do you still have Puddles?" Yunho asked.

"I do."

During your time together, you noticed Mingi wasn't as engaged as Yunho was. He made a few comments, adding to the conversation here and there while Yunho did most of the talking, bringing up different topics and speaking with such enthusiasm.

"I can take everyone's empty cups." He offered after noticing everyone had finished their drinks.

"Thank you." You handed your trash over to Yunho, watching for a moment as he walked to the garbage can near the cafe entrance.

"This has been nice." You commented, turning to Mingi with a small smile. "It was a good way to start the day. And thanks for buying coffee."

"Oh. I didn't pay for it. I bought my own."

Your brows raised a bit just as Yunho returned to the table, reclaiming his seat.

"You bought my coffee?"

His eyes widened slightly. "Yeah."

"Thank you. You're always doing stuff like that."

It was true. He often bought things for you like a meal or something to drink, always offering to cover the cost of something when you two hung out.

He chuckled softly. "I just like to take care of my friends."

The brief time you spent with Yunho and Mingi at the coffee shop was enjoyable, but you hadn't made much progress on your plan to pursue your crush. Despite engaging in conversation with Mingi, you still felt like you could've done more.

Instead of worrying, you pushed aside your concerns and reminded yourself that you still had almost a full month to change things. You had time.

Just a few days later, Hongjoong texted the group chat and asked if everyone was free to get together later that evening and check out a new restaurant in town. You remembered when this first happened and it was a fun night, in fact, Seonghwa ended up drinking a little too much, but you were hardly able to speak to Mingi due to being seated father away from him. You'd be sure to change that this time around—and maybe you'd advise Seonghwa to watch his soju intake.

You stepped into the restaurant to find Jongho, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa seated on a bench in the entryway of the establishment, likely waiting on the others.

"Hey!" Jongho greeted enthusiastically.

"Hey guys." You moved to take a seat on the bench beside him.

"So, how long has this place been in business?" Jongho asked Hongjoong, looking around at the interior.

"About a month. I've seen really good reviews online. I hear the jjigae is good, lots of people were recommending it."

"Did someone say jjigae?" San's voice bellowed as he entered the waiting area.

A chorus of greetings rang out as he joined the group, falling into conversation easily.

After a relatively short wait, everyone had arrived and the group was brought to a large table. Trying not to make it obvious, you slid into the chair beside Mingi, ensuring that you'd get some time with him this time around. Yunho was quick to slip into the empty seat to the right of you, offering a tiny smile as he scooted his chair closer to the table.

"Something smells good." He mentioned, referring to the aroma food from nearby tables that lingered in the air.

"It does." You agreed, reaching for your menu to scan the list, deciding to order something different this time around.

"I'm definitely getting soju." Seonghwa announced. "Anyone wanna join?"

"Me." Jongho piped up.

"You might not wanna overdo it." You cautioned.

"I'll be fine." Seonghwa waved off your comment.

"Suit yourself." You murmured, turning your attention back to the menu, eyes scanning over the pictures and names on the laminated pages.

Yunho's gaze drifted to you while your attention was focused on deciding what to order.

"Your eye makeup looks really good today." He spoke up, voicing his inner thoughts aloud.

"Oh." You were surprised he noticed something like that. "Thank you."

"It's different than what you usually do."

"Yeah, it is. I wanted to try something new."

"Well, it looks really good."

His compliment gave your mood a little boost, making you feel giddy. It wasn't often a guy took notice of a change in makeup, though if anyone were to notice, Yunho definitely would.

Mingi caught wind of the conversation and turned to get a look at your eyeshadow.

"Let me see."

You moved your head and closed your eyes so he could check out your handiwork.

"Oh. It's nice." He hummed. "Very shimmery."

Mingi's compliment made you even more giddy than Yunho's did, your heart fluttering in your chest. Your smile grew as you thanked him, unable to hide how his words made you feel.

Your waitress for the evening came over and one-by-one, everyone placed their orders. Despite your warning, Seonghwa did ask for a couple bottles of soju. Maybe some things you couldn't change. He and Jongho clinked shot glass after shot glass, laughing and cutting up until the waitress returned with everyone's orders. Your mouth watered as she set down various dishes, the different savory scents mingling in the most wonderful way.

The conversations and chatter died down as everyone started stuffing their faces, preventing them from talking. The only vocalizations were hums of satisfaction.

"Let's take a picture." Wooyoung piped up after some time, retrieving his phone from his pocket.

You, along with some others that were in the middle of chewing, wiped your mouth, swallowing your food and turning to where Wooyoung stood with his device stuck out.

"Bring it in a little." He gestured to the group, so you'd all fit in the frame.

You immediately moved closer to Mingi, using it as an excuse to be near him. Yunho scooted his chair over a bit and leaned into you, catching you off guard. Brushing it off, you smiled as Wooyoung snapped a couple photos, instructing everyone to do a different pose. You readjusted your pose, doing a half heart and nudging Mingi who gladly completed the pose. Feeling something as simple as his fingers pressed against yours made your heart stutter in your chest. You flashed another smile and Wooyoing snapped a photo before sliding his phone back into his pocket, letting everyone get back to their food.

"Send that to me, Woo." San told his friend.

"Me too." Seonghwa piped up a little louder than he should have, his ears and cheeks red from the soju.

"I'll send it to the group chat." Wooyoung assured everyone while piling his plate with some of the side dishes spread across the table.

And you did receive those photos in the group chat later that evening when you returned home along with a few typo-filled text messages from Seonghwa telling Wooyoung how great the images turned out. You dropped down to sit on the edge of your bed, zooming in on you and Mingi in the snapshot, unable to stop yourself from admiring the way you two looked together, your mind wandering. In the photos sent, there were some taken when everyone was switching poses and that's when you noticed Yunho. His gaze was directed at you when you weren't paying attention, something about his eyes making you stare for a little too long at the screen. You had never seen Yunho look at you that way before and you couldn't pinpoint a word to describe it. You chalked it up to your over-analyzing mind and brushed away any observations for the time being.

You were seated on your bed, going through some of the things in your room that you hadn't seen in a couple years, reminiscing. It was still a strange concept, being there in the past and seeing all the things in your room that you'd long gotten rid of or sold.

Time traveling. It shouldn't have been possible and yet there you were, standing in your bedroom decorated just as it was two years prior, getting a chance to correct possibly the biggest mistake of your life.

Caught up in your thoughts, you almost didn't hear your phone chime to inform you of an incoming text message. Flipping the device over from its spot on your dresser, you saw a text from Yunho.

Yuyu

Mingi is coming over to hang out and play video games. You wanna come by?

That's right. Yunho and Mingi had a video game night and invited you to join, but you weren't feeling well last time and passed on the invite. That certainly wasn't going to happen this time around. Taking the phone, you typed up a response, letting Yunho know you'd be at his place shortly.

Yunho had everything set up by the time you arrived, pillows piled on his couch, a vast spread of snacks, and his game of choice loaded and ready to go.

"Wow." You applauded. "You pulled out all the stops for this hangout."

"When do I not?" He chuckled.

"Touché." You slipped your shoes off by the door and headed inside, dropping down onto the sofa.

"Go on. Make yourself comfortable." Yunho remarked in a teasing manner, making you laugh softly.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, taking in your appearance. "Are you wearing makeup?"

"A little."

"Ah." A knowing grin spread across Yunho's face. "You're wanting to look good for Mingi, is that it?"

A faint warmth tickled your cheeks.

"No." You denied.

Even if you were good at hiding your emotions, Yunho would be able to see right through you anyway. He knew you too well.

When Mingi arrived, you sat up a little straighter, subtly fixing your hair as he and Yunho greeted each other.

"Hey, Y/n." Mingi came into the living room, taking a seat beside you on the couch. "You gonna play video games with us?"

"I'm gonna observe for this game," You gestured towards the TV screen. "but I might join in when you guys decide to switch games."

"Well, let's not waste any more time." Yunho plopped onto the opposite end of the couch, grabbing a controller and starting the game.

You munched on some of the snacks Yunho had laid out on the coffee table, watching contently as your two friends moved their game characters across the screen, shooting at each other and collecting items along the way.

"Hey, hey, hey." Yunho laughed as Mingi's avatar rounded a corner where he was hiding.

Yunho narrowly escaped, only losing some of his HP in the process.

It was amusing to witness their playful banter and random outbursts during the few rounds they played. One of them would groan when they lost and the other would stand up to do a ridiculous victory dance that had you cackling.

The game was switched shortly after to one you were more willing to participate in—a classic racing game. A third controller was connected and the three of you started a round.

At some point, Mingi tried to sabotage you in the game, making you yelp out in surprise and struggle to regain your position in the race. In retaliation, you leaned over to bump his shoulder, hoping to throw him off.

"Cheater!" Mingi shouted, making you burst into a fit of joyful laughter.

"I'll give you something to laugh about." He knocked you harshly with his shoulder, a little grunt leaving you as your body jerked.

"Let's leave the sabotages in the game, huh?" Yunho spoke up lightheartedly, putting yours and Mingi's physical attacks to a halt.

After a few rounds of racing, the three of you started another multiplayer game, seated on the edge of the couch cushions in order to be closer to the TV screen to focus. You weren't sure how long you guys had gamed for, too engrossed in the moment to pay attention to the time.

"I think I'm gonna head home." Mingi announced, setting down his controller and stretching his long arms.

"You sure?" Yunho asked.

"Yeah, it's only 11 PM." You mentioned.

"I know, but I'm getting tired." He spoke through a yawn.

"Weak." You teased.

"Hey." Mingi chuckled. "Am not."

"Sleep is for the weak, my friend."

"At least I get sleep, unlike you." He poked your side, making you flinch away and laugh.

"He got you with that one, Y/n." Yunho chuckled, knowing how poor your sleeping habits were.

"Whose side are you on?" You asked, placing a hand over your chest in mock hurt.

He merely laughed while Mingi got to his feet, twisting to stretch out his tight back muscles.

"Alright. I'm heading out." He announced, fishing his keys from his pocket. "I'll see you guys around."

"See ya." You and Yunho waved as Mingi let himself out.

The room grew quiet after Mingi's exit, your foot tapping softly on the floor.

"You can stay longer if you'd like." Yunho extended the invite. "I'm not tired, so you don't have to worry about keeping me up or anything."

A smile pulled at your lips. "Neither am I."

"You wanna watch me play Valorant?"

"Sure."

Yunho had always been a huge fan of the game and played it often, sometimes with Jongho, who was also into the franchise. His fingers pressed around on the controls, picking up where he left off on his last game.

You readjusted your position on the couch, watching Yunho move around on the screen, scanning the area for any enemies.

"Anyone playing with you tonight?" You asked him.

"No, just bots. Jongho isn't online right now, which I'm kinda relieved about. I messed up last time and our team lost. I didn't hear the end of it for three days." He sighed, shaking his head.

You chuckled. "Yeah Jongho takes his gaming seriously."

"A little too seriously if you ask me. He wouldn't stop mentioning how I totally screwed our team over."

You chuckled softly, easily imagining Jongho teasing Yunho for days on end.

"Would you like to try?"

The offer was made after Yunho had played a round on his own.

"Oh. I'm not very coordinated with these kinds of games."

"You won't get better if you don't practice." He held the controller out, giving it a little flourish as if to tempt you.

"Alright, fine." You caved.

The Xbox controller was handed over and you held it, placing your thumbs on the joysticks.

"Okay so which button do I press to aim and shoot?" You questioned, wanting to get familiar with the controls.

"Left to aim, right to shoot."

"Got it." You positioned your index fingers over the trigger buttons.

"A is jump and B is crouch."

"Of course." You nodded, familiar with that setup already.

Using the joysticks, you moved Yunho's character forward, panning the area while he explained to you what the objective of the game was.

"There, there, there!" He pointed frantically at the TV screen. "That's one of your enemies."

"Okay. Okay." You squeezed the left trigger button and aimed before shooting only to miss. "Crap!" You hissed out in mild frustration.

Your thumbs moved to maneuver the character to a shielded area.

"I don't know what I'm doing." You huffed.

"Here. Let me help." Yunho readjusted himself, his long arms wrapping around your frame while his large hands came to rest over yours on the controller.

Your body stiffened imperceptibly at the sensation of his chest being pressed against your back and his arms caged around you. It felt oddly intimate and had your head spinning.

"You have to be quick about it." He spoke lowly due to his face being so close to your ear, which only made things worse.

You cleared your throat and nodded.

Yunho placed his thumbs on yours, making them push on the joysticks, guiding the character on the screen back out in the open.

"Aim." He pressed the left bumper, moving the joystick to center the target. "And shoot." He pressed the right bumper and the enemy fell to the ground. "See? Easy."

"Yeah. Easy." You blinked, swallowing thickly, trying to make sense of the emotions you felt.

It took you a couple days to get over the way being so close to Yunho made you feel. He had never done anything like that before nor had he ever done anything to warrant such a reaction from you. It was strange and different, but you managed to push past it.

It was finally time. A pivotal moment in this whole plan to change your past—the big weekend trip to Jeju Island. The whole thing was Jongho's idea as an early birthday present for San. The trip took place from July 6 to July 8, ending just a couple days before San's birthday. As you recalled from the first time, the youngest wouldn't stop bragging about how much better his gift was than everyone else's, claiming a trip was so much better than something like jewelry.

The group was split into two SUVs, four in one and five in the other. Your road trip buddies for the next few hours were Yunho, Mingi, Yeosang, and Seonghwa. Your excitement was barely contained as you were squeezed in beside Mingi in the backseat. He had shifted over when you got into the car, seated in the middle with you on the right and Yeosang on the left.

"I can't wait until we get there. Jongho showed me photos. The place looks awesome." Seonghwa spoke from the passenger seat.

"I can't believe he rented a house for the weekend. That makes my video game gift sound so lame." Yunho murmured, keeping his eyes on the road while he drove.

"He'll love it." You mentioned. "Trust me."

Mingi made himself busy, hooking his phone up to the Bluetooth in the car, dubbing himself the road trip DJ.

The five of you bobbed your heads, even singing along to some of the songs at the top of your lungs. A couple hours into the four hour road trip, you yawned, rubbing at your face to wake up.

"You tired?" Mingi asked quietly.

"Yeah."

"Here." He patted his shoulder.

"Are you sure?" You tried not to let your excitement show at his offer.

"Sure."

You leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder, mentally trying to convince your racing heart to calm down. This opportunity wasn't presented to you last time due to you being in Hongjoong's car with Jongho, San, and Wooyoung. Wooyoung and Jongho ended up snapping photos of you when you'd fallen asleep, leaving you to wake up to mischievous giggling.

Resting against Mingi's shoulder was nice and made you feel relaxed once you'd gotten used to it. It was much better than when you were with Wooyoung and Jongho the last time. You dozed off quickly, unaware of Yunho's gaze looking at the both of you in the rear view mirror.

The vacation home Jongho booked was a cozy four bedroom three bathroom accommodation. The only issue with four bedrooms was the fact that there were nine of you. Last time, you insisted on sleeping on the couch, which no one was okay with, but you convinced them to let you take one for the team. It was stiff and uncomfortable, so this time you weren't going to offer up yourself for taking the pullout couch and see what happened.

Everyone started checking out the place and calling dibs on different bedrooms, which is where the issue of rooming came about.

"I'd feel bad if Y/n slept on the couch." Seonghwa frowned.

"Me too." Yeosang agreed.

"Why don't we just do a random pairing? All the rooms are the same anyway." You offered up a fair compromise.

They all agreed and suggested a game to play to pair everyone up. Your heart was racing the entire time, silently hoping things would work out in your favor and you could room with Mingi.

As the game progressed and pairs started getting made, it seemed luck was on your side. That is until Mingi got paired with Jongho. You pushed aside your disappointment, knowing you'd have the weekend to spend some time with him.

"Okay. Yunho and Y/n. You two will room together. That leaves Yeosang for the couch." Hongjoong said.

Yunho. That wasn't so bad. He was the one you were closest with, so you weren't uncomfortable with that outcome.

"Alright. Yeosang gets the couch." Wooyoung grabbed his shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

Yeosang pouted and you almost caved, nearly offering to take the couch and repeat history, but you had to stay strong. Thankfully, Yeosang had no complaints.

Everyone started to get settled in, taking their duffel bags to their designated rooms, or in Yeosang's case, designated space.

You stepped into the room you and Yunho would be sharing, taking note of the king size bed. At least there'd be enough space for both of you, not that it would be a bad thing if there wasn't. Again, you were pretty close with Yunho and felt the most comfortable with him, so sharing a bed would be fine.

"We need some groceries for the weekend." Wooyoung mentioned while wandering the kitchen.

"Ramen is a must." Seonghwa piped up.

"And meat." Added San.

"Alright, so who's going?" Jongho asked.

"I vote Hongjoong." Wooyoung pointed to the second oldest who had made himself comfortable sprawled out on the living room floor with his eyes closed.

"No." He spoke from his spot on the hardwood.

"Two people should go." Mentioned Yunho.

"Well, there's only one way to settle this." Mingi held his fist up as a signal for them to start playing Rock Paper Scissors.

Since he was the one who suggested it, Mingi started the game and everyone put up a different hand sign, Hongjoong chose to participate right where he was.

Little by little, people started getting eliminated, clapping and celebrating when they found out they didn't have to go grocery shopping.

It was down to three people: you, Mingi, and Wooyoung. The last round was played. You and Mingi pulled paper and Wooyoung scissors.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, throwing his fists into the air in celebration. "Y/n and Mingi have to go grocery shopping."

Your eyes locked with Mingi's and you couldn't help but grin.

"I guess we should start making a list, huh?" He chuckled softly, pulling out his phone.

"Mingi, if you don't wanna go, I can do it." Yunho offered.

"I'm good. Y/n and I got this. Right?" He turned to you, holding out his fist.

"Yeah." You nodded, giving him a fist bump.

The boys started calling out different things and Mingi added each one to a list on his phone.

"Guys, we're only gonna be here for three days and I'm sure there are some nice local restaurants. Let's try not to buy too much." Seonghwa mentioned. "We just need a few things for when we want snacks or want to cook here."

The list was finally sorted out and you and Mingi left, headed to a nearby grocery store in the village you were staying in.

"The weather is so nice." You commented, enjoying the warmth of the midday sun and the light breeze that helped keep you cool.

"It is." Mingi agreed, pushing his hair back, that little action alone making your heart flutter.

You both made your way through small pathways that winded through the quaint village, running across a couple stray cats and a dog, stopping to pet them for a moment.

"Is this the place?" You asked Mingi, who was looking at his phone, using Naver Map to navigate.

"Should be." He lifted his gaze to look at the shop you were pouting to. "The map says we're here."

With that, the both of you headed inside and started shopping, grabbing a cart.

"Shin Ramen." You murmured, scanning the aisle of instant noodles. "Ah." You reached for a pack and tossed it into the cart Mingi was pushing.

"You should get two." He mentioned.

"Right. Seonghwa is there." You chuckled, referring to his big appetite, grabbing a second pack.

Rounding the corner, you headed down to the meat department and scanned the trays that were lined up.

"Everyone wants pork belly. Jongho said there's a grill outside." Mingi mentioned, grabbing a few packs. "Wow these look good."

"They sure do." You rubbed your hands together. "We should go get the alcohol next."

The group wanted to have a barbecue sometime during the weekend, so alcohol was a must. Half the group wanted beer and the other half soju, so you and Mingi stocked up. And, of course, since you were staying in Jeju, you bought some oranges.

Your arms were laden with plastic grocery bags when you and Mingi left the store. Mingi offered to carry the alcohol and drinks while you got the lighter stuff like ramen, meat, and other snacks. Getting back to the rental home was easy and once you returned, everyone perked up, excited to have some food.

Yunho was quick to jump up and help you out with the bags. "Here. Let me get those."

"Thanks." You smiled softly at his gesture.

The rest of the day was spent down at the beach, which was nearby. A couple towels were laid across the sand where everyone sat and enjoyed the fresh oranges that were purchased earlier. The citrusy flavor burst in your mouth like an explosion of fireworks as you gazed out at the ocean, your focus shifting to a screaming Wooyoung running along the shore away from Hongjoong, who was chasing him down. The sight made you laugh, watching in amusement, unaware that Yunho had pulled his phone out and was discreetly snapping candid photos of you. It might've been weird, but Yunho thought you looked so gorgeous and natural sitting near him, watching his friends chase each other. He was looking forward to spending some time with you this weekend.

Nighttime settled over the island of Jeju and a delicious meal was shared at the rental home. While grocery shopping, you and Mingi picked up a few bags of frozen dumplings and some tteokbokki, so that's what you had. While eating, plans were made on where to eat the following day as Yeosang and San scoped out local restaurants on Naver, checking out menus and whatnot. Cleanup duty was given to Jongho and Seonghwa after a lost game of Rock Paper Scissors, but of course everyone pitched in to help a little.

You stood in Yunho's room, donning your pajamas, all washed up and ready for bed. It had been a fun first day despite you having already lived it.

"Come on." Yunho patted the empty spot beside him. "You afraid to share a bed with your best friend?" He teased.

The question made your heart jump as the image of Yunho helping you play Valorant not too long ago flashed in your mind.

"No." You scoffed with a chuckle, crawling into the king size bed, making sure to leave a respectable gap between you and Yunho.

He offered the whole bed to you earlier when you were working out sleeping arrangements, but you insisted on just sharing the bed since it was so big. Besides, you didn't exactly want Yunho to sleep on the floor.

Snuggling into the pillow, you tugged the covers up a little higher and settled in.

"G'night, Yunho."

"Night, Y/n."

You dozed off quickly, all that walking and hanging out on the beach had worn you out.

You rolled over during the night, freezing when you heard steady breathing a little too close to you. In the dim moonlight shining into the room, you could see Yunho's face mere inches away, barely making out the shape of his nose and lips. It made your heart jump and you rolled back over, choosing to stay as you were.

You brought a hand up to your chest, feeling your thudding pulse beneath it. Why did that make you react in such a way? You didn't have any issues sharing a bed with Yunho, so why was your heart racing a million miles an hour? It was the same feeling you got when you played Valorant with him.

Sighing, you shook away the thoughts before you could spiral into an endless string of questions and internal analyzations. You were on a fun weekend trip with your friends, getting a second chance to change the future. You need not waste it.

The following day was spent checking out a local cafe for a light breakfast of coffee and baked goods, then you all did some sightseeing at a hiking trail, snapping photos and enjoying the warm weather. You walked close to Mingi nearly the whole time, chatting with him. You heart rate skyrocketed when he caught you after you misstepped and your ankle gave out. In addition to Mingi, Yunho also stepped in to help steady you, his eyes wide with worry.

"You okay?" Mingi and Yunho asked at the same time, their sentences overlapping.

"Yeah." You nodded. "I'm fine."

You rotated your ankle a bit, stretching it out before moving forward. Unbeknownst to you, Yunho started to walk closer, making sure you didn't misstep again or trip over anything.

That night, you guys went out for dinner at the restaurant the group decided on the previous night. They served classic Korean dishes that healed you from the inside out. Then back at the rental home, the nine of you played some card games which were provided by the accommodation.

The last day of the weekend trip arrived much quicker than anyone anticipated, but you all had two days full of fun and later that night was the scheduled barbecue, which would no doubt be fun—it was the first time.

Since it was the last day, you all took to the beach, walking in the waves and actually swimming this time.

Yunho's eyes followed your form as you headed into the water, laughing jubilantly when a wave splashed against your knees. The swimsuit you wore was so very you and the color complemented you so well. He couldn't tear his eyes away, standing at the edge of the shore where the waves laved the sand. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on it while thinking back on the night you came over to play video games and how his stomach flipped when he was teaching you how to play Valorant. How your hands felt under his. Wooyoung came up and splashed you with water, making you squeal, which pulled Yunho from his thoughts. He chuckled softly to himself.

"Get back here!" You shouted at him, struggling to run through knee-high waves while splashing water towards the culprit.

He decided to join, assisting you in getting revenge on Wooyoung.

As the sun set over Jeju, preparations for the barbecue were being made. Jongho and Yunho were on grilling duty while you, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung were making ramen inside in the kitchen. San was known to be a pro at grilling, but he was the birthday boy and no one permitted him to help out. Yeosang kept him company on the couch, both of them playing a game together on their phones. Mingi and Hongjoong worked to set out chairs and a fold-out table in the backyard.

An entire family-sized five pack of Shin ramen was emptied into a pot of boiling water, the seasonings and dried ingredients being added in shortly after.

There were some leftover frozen dumplings so Wooyoung got to work pan frying them, wanting to use up the groceries that were purchased. At some point, Yunho stepped inside with a piece of pork belly between a set of tongs to feed San.

"Mmm!" He hummed.

"What about me? I'm working so hard in here." Wooyoung complained.

"You're not the birthday boy." Yunho said, sticking his tongue out before retreating outside.

It wasn't long before everything was done. The giant pot of ramen was set on a towel on the table outside, a couple plates of dumplings, and freshly-grilled pork belly lined the table. Jongho and Wooyoung came out of the house with armfuls of beer and soju, distributing them to everyone.

"Let's make a toast to San." Hongjoong held his can of beer up.

The birthday boy appeared flustered, smiling shyly. Everyone raised their drinks and did a collective cheers before taking a sip, or in Jongho and Yunho's cases, giant gulps.

"Geez." You laughed at Yunho, who was seated to your left.

"Ahh." He sighed out. "It's been too long."

Unfortunately, you weren't able to sit beside Mingi, but he was across from you, which was the next best thing.

"Everyone dig in." Seonghwa urged.

The meal was delicious, just as you remembered, but something about this particular time just felt better.

Jongho boldly insisted on playing a drinking game, to which everyone agreed to right away.

The night ended with a flushed San and Seonghwa singing loudly at the top of their lungs, swaying in their seats. Yunho was quick to join while Hongjoong opted to rest his head on the table. It was even funnier witnessing all this a second time, though things had gone a little differently than you remembered. It seemed like the choices you made thus far were already changing things.

The bowling alley had a decent crowd, exactly as you remembered it. The guys bought a big party package for the group which came with a few hours of bowling, one meal, and one round of soft drinks.

"I'm kicking all your butts." Jongho vowed, chewing a large bite of pizza, pointing at everyone.

"We'll see about that." San stretched his arms.

The game began shortly and since San was the birthday boy, he went first, successfully scoring a spare. You watched in amusement as everyone took their turn, some getting embarrassed about starting the round off with a gutter ball.

Jongho's declaration proved to be accurate, as he was the one currently in the lead after a few turns.

Mingi went up to bowl next, rearing back only to fumble and drop the ball. Your body stiffened as you watched the blue and white marbled ball roll along the glossy floors. This was when Mingi met the girl he proposed to. She stopped his ball when it rolled a couple lanes over. Jumping to your feet, you rushed to intercept the escaping sphere with your foot, successfully halting it. You spared a glance over your shoulder and saw her standing with two people a couple lanes over. You hid the triumphant smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth.

"Thanks, Y/n." Mingi flashed you a sideways grin and picked up his ball.

"Make sure you've got a tight hold on it next time, butter fingers."

"Hey!" He laughed.

"Just saying." You held back a chuckle, walking back to your seat beside Yunho on one of the cushioned booth seats.

Your shoulders brushed with his and you quietly apologized, something almost bashful in your tone. Since the Jeju trip, something was starting to become clear to you, or at the very least making itself known. You were developing a liking to Yunho that almost went past the title of friend.

You were quick to get pulled back into the game, laughing at some of the trash talk being shouted back and forth between the guys, cutting up with Yunho a bit and momentarily forgetting about your big mission. You hardly even noticed when Mingi stepped away to get a drink, that is until you caught a glimpse of him by a soda machine... talking to her.

That didn't happen last time.

Your heart sank to your feet. You tried to change things and he still ended up meeting her.

There was a bitter taste in your mouth and the rest of the evening proved to be difficult to get through, nausea twisting your gut every time you thought about Mingi or even looked at him.

"You okay?" The always-perceptive Yunho asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder that momentarily eased some of the tightness in your chest.

"Huh? Oh. I'm fine. I must've eaten that pizza too fast." You lied.

"You don't feel well?"

You shook your head.

"Do you need to go home?"

"I'm alright." You put on a smile, not wanting to ruin San's birthday party.

Yunho decided to let it go for the time being.

Later that night after you showered and changed into some cozy pajamas, you dropped down on the couch, hugging one of the pillows to your aching chest. The image of Mingi smiling and laughing with her flashed in your mind on loop.

You failed.

A lump formed in your throat as the crushing weight of defeat bared down on you. You were forcing yourself to keep the tears in, not wanting to cry over something so trivial. On the other hand, you got a second chance from some sort of magical hourglass from an antique store that was letting you try again. And you failed. How could you not be upset?

Just as you were about to give in and let the tears spill, your phone buzzed. You flipped the device over and saw Yunho's contact photo on the screen, a FaceTime call. Yet another thing that didn't happen last time.

You groaned, hoping you didn't look like you were close to tears, answering the call but keeping only the top of your head visible. Yunho was on his bed, his phone propped on his nightstand while he hugged a pillow, watching the camera, his face lighting up when you answered.

"Hey." He paused, his brows furrowed. "Why are you hiding?"

You couldn't think up a believable lie so you lowered the phone to where you were in frame, grateful to see that you looked just fine.

"Sorry." You murmured.

"I was just calling to check up on you. You didn't seem alright earlier at the bowling alley."

"I'm fine."

"Y/n, it's just you and me. You don't have to lie."

You sighed stubbornly, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"No. I saw Mingi talking to this girl by the drink machines earlier."

"So?"

"He likes her."

"How do you know?"

"I just do." You huffed, knowing you couldn't tell him the truth.

He took his phone from where it was propped, his face moving closer to the camera. "Do I need to come over?"

"No. I'll be alright."

You appreciated his concern, you really did, but you didn't want him to go out of his way to comfort you.

"Too late. I'm coming over. DoorDash is gonna be on its way soon."

You chuckled, knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer. If he wanted to do something, he'd do it. No ifs, ands, or buts.

Yunho arrived a short fifteen minutes later, pulling you into a hug as soon as you answered the door. Every muscle in your body relaxed instantaneously and your eyes closed while you allowed yourself to enjoy his embrace, finding that you liked being in his arms.

"I hope you're not feeling sick anymore, because I ordered your favorite delivery food." Yunho said, pulling away.

"I'm not. I'm actually feeling a little better." You nodded, smiling softly.

The food arrived shortly and Yunho took it upon himself to answer the door, insisting that you stay right where you were on the couch. He brought the bag to the living room, setting it on the coffee table and opening it up.

"This one's for you." He handed your food over.

You thanked him and took a bite, grateful that it didn't taste unpleasant or make you want to throw up. That was good news and meant your uneasy stomach had settled a bit.

"Maybe it won't go anywhere." Yunho spoke up, trying to ease your troubled mind.

"What?"

"Mingi and this girl you saw him talking to. Maybe he was just having a friendly conversation with her."

"No." You shook your head. "Trust me. They're gonna start dating."

"You sound so sure."

"That's because I am."

His brows knit together, his skepticism and puzzlement showing through his expression. You were grateful he didn't press any further and instead changed the topic to something lighter. It helped keep your mind occupied long enough to finish your food.

"Oh. I didn't even think about drinks. Would you like something?" You offered.

"Just a soda will be fine."

You went to get a couple cans and brought them back into the living room, sitting back down on the couch. You cracked open your drink and took a sip, setting it on the coffee table. Yunho followed suit, settling back against the cushions of the sofa.

"Thanks for coming over." Your lips twitched into a faint smile. "You didn't have to, but I appreciate it."

"I know I didn't. I just couldn't stand seeing you upset and wanted to check in."

"I just," You hesitated, wondering if you should even tell him. "I've been trying to spend more time around Mingi in hopes that he might end up developing feelings for me. It's obvious that didn't work."

"Y/n." Yunho frowned. "You can't make someone like you."

"Clearly not." You sighed. "I thought if I hung out with him more often then maybe he'd develop feelings for me."

Tears blurred your sight, which you were quick to blink away before any could fall. Yunho frowned, not missing the glossiness in your eyes.

"Sorry." You huffed out, frustrated that you let your emotions slip in front of him.

"No." He shook his head. "It's fine. You're upset."

You expelled a faint sight, nodding. Your eyes met Yunho's and you felt something stirring in your gut. A feeling you couldn't pinpoint. "Thanks for coming over."

He smiled. "You're welcome."

It was weird. His behavior was making you feel funny, but not in a bad way. In fact, it was pleasant. Did you like him or were you projecting your feelings for Mingi onto Yunho? Or maybe you were feeling vulnerable and the attention was confusing your emotions. You didn't know and it hurt your brain to think about.

Too caught up in your own head, you didn't realize Yunho was closer to you. When did that happen? His hands were shaking and he hoped you didn't notice, his breathing quick and shallow as his gaze stayed locked on yours. There was something he wanted so badly to do and was having an internal battle with himself on wether or not he should do it.

Now would be the perfect time.

He imperceptibly started inching closer without having made up his mind, but didn't get far when you perked up, sitting straighter.

"I've got it." You gasped. "I'll invite him out tomorrow and take him somewhere with a romantic atmosphere, but not too obvious."

"Oh." Yunho deflated a bit. "That's... great."

He didn't stay much longer after that, using the excuse that he was tired. Naturally, you didn't think anything of it, your mind focused on executing your final plan; a last-ditch effort to pull a confession out of Mingi.

You reached out to Mingi the following day and invited him to a local botanical garden to hang out. There was no time to waste. You had to make a move. He agreed, which was already a step towards you getting the ending you hoped for.

Just two days after San's birthday party, you were walking past butterfly bushes, colorful hydrangeas, and other eye-catching blossoms with Mingi, an iced coffee in your hand that was sweating under the summer sun. You sipped your drink quietly, watching the water lilies floating in one of the few small ponds littered about the garden.

"This is nice." Mingi hummed, pushing his sunglasses up his nose.

"Yeah. It is." You put on a small smile. "Thanks for agreeing to hang out."

"Of course." His silver rings glinted in the sunlight as he raised his plastic cup, taking another sip of coffee.

You'd been walking for a while and were only having surface-level conversations with him. It was making you antsy. No one was around. All the other people walking the garden weren't anywhere near you.

"Wanna sit down over there?" You asked, gesturing to a shaded gazebo surrounded by floral bushes.

Mingi nodded and mentioned something about needing a little rest. You sat down beside him, butterflies fluttering around the area, birds chirping in the trees. The atmosphere was perfect, but he hadn't said anything. You took in a breath, preparing to just spill your guts to him. If he wouldn't confess, then you would.

Before you could utter a word, he spoke.

"We've spent a lot of time together lately."

"Yeah. We have."

"I've had fun." His tone was genuine. "It's been nice getting out so much."

"Yeah it has. Maybe we can spend more time together." It wasn't a question, but a suggestion.

"I'd like that a lot. I wanna hang out with my friends as much as possible."

Friends.

Your feelings weren't reciprocated.

He sipped his coffee casually, as if he didn't just break your heart into a million pieces.

Wait. You blinked, puzzled. There wasn't a painful ache in your chest or a crushing feeling of defeat weighing on you. Why?

"You okay?" Mingi asked, noticing you got quiet.

You blinked again, staring off in the distance.

"Yeah. I'm perfectly fine, actually."

Was this closure?

That night, you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, not knowing what would happen the following day. One thing you did know was that you weren't upset over Mingi essentially friend-zoning you. You didn't feel like the world was going to end nor did you want to cry. Closing your eyes, you found yourself relaxing, looking forward to what the next day might hold.

The sun hit your eyelids, disturbing your deep and peaceful slumber. A groan rumbled in the back of your dry throat as you rolled over, lifting your head sluggishly from your pillow. Your droopy eyes shot open when you noticed your bedroom's appearance and decor. It was current. You were back in the present.

As happy as you were to have returned to where you belonged, your mind wandered back to the fact that Mingi only saw you as a friend. Being aware of this, you started analyzing your interactions with him, picking up on all the times when he never really acted like he was into you romantically. Why didn't you see it? You were chasing after a dead end.

Mingi would've done certain things if he liked you. He would've remembered something simple, like your coffee order. He would've checked up on you if you were upset or invited you to hang out. If Mingi really liked you as more than a friend, he would've acted like it. In fact, he would've acted like—

You paused, your body going stiff as something clicked, like two live wires connecting and causing a spark.

Yunho. He would've acted like Yunho.

Like a tsunami, flashes of your interactions with Yunho flickered through you head like a slideshow. He remembered the name of a plushie you won years ago, he knew your coffee order and paid for it, he noticed when you did your makeup differently, he checked up on you, he ordered your favorite delivery food, he was always perceptive of your behaviors and moods. Little things he had done recently and in the past were coming to light and you were only just now realizing. Yunho liked you.

Your heart beat faster and faster as more details stood out to you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, a giddiness making your stomach flip with excitement.

The blood suddenly drained from your face as something came to the forefront of your mind. Yunho liked you and you gushed about Mingi in front of him so many times, not knowing how he felt. That night he came over after San's birthday party, you cried over Mingi. You groaned into your pillow, feeling so foolish.

"Stupid." You muttered. "You're such an idiot."

Your phone chimed, prompting you to raise your head and reach for the device.

Yuyu

I know it's last-minute, but do you want me to pick you up?

We can go together if you want

His text confused you until you checked the calendar, surprised to find that it was the same day Mingi proposed to his girlfriend. Yunho didn't offer to drive you last time, which meant the choices you made in the past had effected the present. You then looked to the shelf where you'd stored the mysterious hourglass, finding that section to be completely bare. That's right. Technically, you hadn't bought it yet.

Pulling your focus back to your phone, you sent out a response, accepting Yunho's offer.

You straightened out your shirt, tucking it in and frowning when it didn't look right. You untucked it, not liking how that looked either. Finally, after some adjusting, you got your top fixed the way you wanted it. Just as you finished getting ready, your phone chimed with a text from Yunho letting you know he was at your place and waiting outside.

Getting into Yunho's car, there was a noticeable change in your emotions. You no longer felt the same comfort that you did prior. Instead, you were a little nervous. As if realizing your feelings for Yunho changed the way you interacted with him.

"Hey." You greeted almost shyly, buckling up.

"Hey." His eyes took in your outfit. "You look nice."

"Thanks." You glanced down at the outfit you spent far too long choosing, subconsciously thinking of looking nice for him.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet and you kept stealing fleeting peeks over at Yunho, silently admiring his side profile, from his pretty nose to his delicate pink lips.

When you got to the restaurant, you and Yunho sat in the same spots you did the last time. The rest of the group arrived, including Mingi and his girlfriend, and for the first time, seeing them together didn't make your stomach twist into knots.

Everyone placed their orders and things were going smoothly. Like last time, Yunho was the designated griller, flipping chunks of pork belly along the grated surface of the small grill at the table.

"First bite?" He asked you, holding out a piece with the tongs.

Your heart fluttered at his offer and you nodded, taking a bite. As you chewed, you realized he did that last time and wondered if it was because of his feelings for you. It was little things like that that slipped you completely, going unnoticed, but now that you'd figured it all out, you were more aware.

Yunho finished grilling the meat and everyone started to fix their plates. You did the same, but just like last time, you couldn't reach everything spread out across the table.

"Here." Yunho cut in. "Just let me know what you want and I'll get it for you."

The first time he offered, you just thought it was simply a polite gesture, but now it felt like more, filling you with the giddiness of a lovestruck teenager.

There was the usual teasing and chatter as everyone ate and even though you knew what was coming, you weren't worried. Only when the group was finishing up their meals did Mingi get to his feet. This was the big moment.

He went through pretty much the same speech as the previous time you experienced the whole proposal, except this time, you were smiling, watching with genuine happiness for the couple. Everyone applauded when Mingi slipped the ring on his now fiancé's finger.

As Yunho drove you home after an enjoyable meal, you asked if he could stop by the antique shop under the guise that you had been wanting to check it out. He agreed, celebrating inwardly about getting to spend a little extra time with you.

The old man from last time was at the front counter examining the same brass pitcher. You regarded him with a nod and headed down the aisles, your eyes scanning the shelves until you spotted the hourglass. It was there. Seeing it under the lights in the shop, shining like a beacon made everything you experienced real—not that you ever questioned it.

"Did you want something?" Yunho asked from where he stood at the end of the shelves.

"No." You responded, gazing wistfully at the hourglass before tearing your eyes away. "I just wanted to look around."

With that, you walked away and exited the shop, leaving the hourglass for another troubled person to find, hoping it brought them as much closure as it did you.

The drive back to your home was mostly quiet. You spent a good chunk of the short trip staring at Yunho again, your wandering gaze landing on his hands, watching the way he effortlessly drove with only one. It's as if recognizing your feelings for him suddenly made everything about him stand out and become attractive.

The vehicle came to a rolling stop in front of your home and Yunho shifted the gear into park. There was a part of you that didn't wanna leave yet. You had something you wanted to talk to him about and it had been in the back of your mind since you woke up that morning.

"I hope you're alright." Yunho mentioned, breaking the silence that hung in the air between you. "I know you liked Mingi a lot, even if you haven't talked much to him over the last couple years. You kinda distanced yourself a little after your hangout with him."

You had no recollection of what happened between that day and the present. All you knew was the past you actually lived through, which made you wonder if anything else changed. Things went almost the same way today as it did the last time you experienced it, so maybe not much had changed. It was interesting, however, to find out that you distanced yourself after Mingi essentially turned you down without knowing it. You could definitely see yourself doing that, especially after getting the closure you needed.

"I'm okay." You responded. "I'm more than okay. In fact, I'm starting to see someone else in a different light." You looked at Yunho, whose eyes got a little bigger at your words. "I owe you the biggest apology."

"An apology? Why?"

"You've been there for me so many times when I was upset and have allowed me to vent to you. I feel like I didn't acknowledge that enough. I'm sorry I never noticed it."

His expression softened. "You've thanked me many times in the past, so you don't owe me an apology, Y/n."

"No, I do." You took in a deep breath, releasing slowly. "I realized something."

"What?"

"I've been chasing after the wrong person. I was so caught up chasing after Mingi that I didn't pay attention to what, or rather who, was in front of me. Who was and is always there for me."

Yunho swallowed, shifting in his seat a bit as his heart rate increased. He didn't wanna get ahead of himself, but if this was going where he though it was, he was about to combust.

"All those times I talked about Mingi in front of you, I had no idea how you felt. I feel like such a jerk. If I'd known, I wouldn't have gushed about him in front of you." You picked at your nails anxiously before continuing. "And I know this feels like it's coming out of nowhere, but I like you, Yunho. It took a big event in my life to realize how I felt. Once I let Mingi go, I started to realize my feelings for you. I hope I'm not too late and haven't screwed things up by taking so long to figure it all out."

"You like me?" He asked softly, not quite believing it even though it's what he hoped to hear from you.

"Yes, I do."

"For how long?"

"I started having some feelings the night I was at your place and you were teaching me how to play Valorant. You put your hands over mine and my heart went crazy." Warmth tickled your cheeks as you recalled the memory that occurred not very long ago for you.

Yunho's ears and cheeks were pink when you finally looked at him.

"You're not too late." He finally spoke. "And you're not a jerk either. You didn't know how I felt and I wanted to keep it that way. At least until I got the courage to confess, but I didn't wanna say anything since you liked Mingi so much."

"I really am sorry."

"Don't be." Yunho started leaning over the center console a bit, which prompted you to do the same, your eyes dropping to his lips for a fleeting moment before darting back to his eyes.

"I really want to kiss you right now." He whispered.

"Go for it."

The narrowing gap between your faces diminished completely as Yunho pushed aside his inhibitions and kissed you. His lips were soft and warm, pressing firmly against yours. If there were any lingering Mingi-related thoughts in your mind, they would've been chased away immediately, being replaced with ones about Yunho and how you wanted to kiss him forever. Your already rapid heart rate skyrocketed when his large hand slid up the side of your face to cradle your cheek, taking up almost the entirety of the space there. His touch was almost as delicate as his kisses, his thumb lightly rubbing your cheek as his lips encased your bottom one before dragging over it. Suddenly, you were mildly agitated with the car's center console that was preventing you from getting closer to Yunho, who pulled away far too soon.

"Would you be my girlfriend?" He asked breathlessly, his cheeks flushed from the kiss.

"I would." A smile was barely contained as you responded, leaning in to kiss him, again frustrated by the console as your elbow bumped it in the process. You parted ways just enough to speak. "Do you wanna come inside for a bit?"

Yunho pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to hold back an exited grin, nodding before pulling his car keys from the ignition.

The both of you couldn't seem to move fast enough, getting out of the car and speed-walking to your front door where you fumbled with your keys. You barely had time to toss them into the glass dish in the foyer and shut the door before Yunho was pulling you back to him, his arms snaking around your waist to keep you close as he kissed you deeply.

It took buying an hourglass that sent you back to the past to get to this moment, which sounded completely bizarre, but you wouldn't have it any other way because it made you realize what you wanted had been in front of you the whole time.

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[logicalpearl]

Hi, Mrs. Hughes...

quinn hughes x reader

synopsis: where y/n meets the family for the first time...in a slightly compromising position...

warnings: suggestive themes, allusions to sex, heavy makeouts, MINORS DNI, 18+

wc: 1.7k

*not my gif*

It wasn't y/n's first time staying the night at Quinn's apartment. In fact, it had become quite normal during their time together. Quinn and y/n had only been seeing each other for about 2 months. Quinn hadn't even told his family about you yet. He was enjoying the time with you all by himself. He knew the second he introduced you to his family that they would fall in love with you the same way he had.

Jack and Luke would be absolutely smitten with the prospect of having a sister soon. Jim would love to have his first daughter, and Ellen... well, Ellen would be over the moon to see her eldest so happy.

Quinn absolutely planned to introduce you to his family soon, but he wanted to soak up these moments before he was constantly bombarded by his family.

That is how he found himself this morning, you wrapped in his arms, soft snores coming from your mouth. He watched your chest rise and fall steadily, reaching his hand out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. Maybe it was creepy, but he loved to see you so peaceful. He traced a finger along your cheekbone and watched as your lashes fluttered and a small smile graced your lips.

"Good morning, handsome," you whispered to Quinn as you slowly opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. Quinn dipped his head down to place a chaste kiss on your lips before responding, "Good morning, angel. Did you sleep well?" Quinn already knew the answer to this, yet he still asked you every morning. You sat up against the headboard of his bed and interlaced your fingers with his, "I always sleep well in your arms, Quinny."

Quinn sat up as well, pulling your intertwined hands to his lips to kiss the back of your hand. "You flatter me, babe. I'm glad you slept well because I know I did." He leaned over again to give you a kiss. it was sweet and you could feel the love he poured into it. You felt his tongue sweep across your lower lip, a slight groan reverberating from his chest as you opened for him. Before it could get any further you pulled away, rubbing your thumb across his lips, "Handsome, as much as I love your kisses, my breath is absolutely gross and we need to get ready for today."

Quinn groaned and fell back against the pillows. Ah yes, today. The day of the infamous Hughes Bowl and the day you would be meeting his whole family. He hadn't even told them that you would be there. He wanted it to be a complete surprise.

He rolled out of bed, kissing the top of your head on the way by as he made his way to the bathroom for his morning shower. You slowly got out of bed, making it and putting all of the pillows back against the headboard. You walked into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and telling Quinn that you would be making breakfast for when he gets out of the shower.

You slipped on one of Quinn's hoodies and a pair of sleep shorts before walking out to the kitchen. You opened the fridge, eyeing the leftover pancake mix from the previous morning. Pulling out the mix along with some fresh fruit you began heating up a skillet and prepping the fruit. You heard the shower stop and knew Quinn would be out in just a few minutes for breakfast.

You were standing at the stove flipping pancakes when you felt two strong arms wrap around you from behind. Quinn peppered kisses along the side of your neck before humming, "Thanks for making breakfast, angel. Do you need any help?" You flipped the last pancake before shutting off the burner and turning to face Quinn, "All set, handsome. if you want you can pull out the orange juice from the fridge? Or you can brew some coffee, I didn't get that far yet."

Quinn released you from his hold and moved to grab the juice out of the fridge. You grabbed two plates out and dished out servings for you and Quinn, placing them on the counter and waiting for him.

You and Quinn stood in silence eating your breakfast, simply soaking up the silence. Both of you knowing that tonight would likely be a whirlwind and neither of you would be able to get away. After finishing your meals, you set the plates in the sink, getting ready to wash them. Before you could get very far you felt two strong hands grip your waist. In one quick motion, Quinn had spun you around, lifted you up, and set you on the countertop.

You let out a quiet gasp as Quinn stepped in between your legs. Your hands coming up to the nape of his neck and looking into his eyes. He looked at you like he was still hungry, like he wanted to devour you in this moment. You opened your mouth to say something but instead he grabbed the back of your neck and brought your lips to meet his. The only way you could describe this kiss was dirty. Quinn kissed you like it would be the last time. One of his hands curled around your waist to pull you closer until your legs were wrapping around his waist. Your hands moved from his neck to comb through his hair, lightly tugging until he was groaning into your mouth.

Quinn pulled away, trailing his lips down your neck as his hand slipped up your (his) hoodie. His lips detached from you for only a moment to pull the hoodie up and over your head, depositing it on the counter behind you. Left only in your tiny sleep shorts and a white cropped tank top that you slept in. Not wearing a bra, the cold air immediately made your nipples peak beneath our shirt. Quinn took notice of this and leaned down to mouth at your collarbone while his thumb came up to rub over your nipple. Your body arched into his as you felt the pleasure flow through you. You gasped as he lightly pinched your nipple, "Oh god! Quinn- I- it's so good. You're so good, handsome... Please!"

You could feel Quinn smiling against your neck as he relished in your whines, "Please what, angel? What do you need, use your words, honey." Now your hands were grabbing at the back of Quinn's shirt, your hips bucking forward, trying to seek some friction. Quinn gave you a little reprieve and brought his mouth back to yours while his fingers trailed to your inner thigh.

Both of you were so caught up in the moment that neither of you heard the front door open. You also didn't hear the sound of voices coming from the hallway, coming closer to you both.

"Quinn! Honey, we came to see yo- OH!"

Both you and Quinn pulled apart to see not only Mrs. Hughes, but the rest of the Hughes behind her as well. Ellen's eyes were wide as she watched you slide off the counter, hastily pulling the previously discarded hoodie over your head. Jack and Luke were standing there trying their best to hold in their laughter. Jim stood there just smiling softly.

You and Quinn both stood there with flushed cheeks before you finally spoke up, "Mr. and Mrs. Hughes it is great to finally meet you. Plus Jack and Luke! Quinn has told me so much about you all!"

You were trying your best not to burst into tears, having been caught by your boyfriend's family, who you hadn't even met yet, in such a compromising position was beyond embarrassing. Quinn was quick to jump in after the shock had worn off, "Mom, dad, this is y/n. My girlfriend of about 2 months. I was going to introduce you to her tonight at the game but clearly that did not go as planned..." Quinn trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before meeting his mom's eyes.

She seemed to break out of her trance when she made eye contact with Quinn, she cleared her throat before smiling and rounding the counter. She pulled you into a tight hug and then Quinn, kissing his cheek lightly. She stepped back from both of you,"y/n it is so great to meet you, dear. I can't believe Quinny here has been able to keep you a secret!" She shot Quinn a slight glare before addressing him, "Quinn, why on earth would you keep her from us?! We want to know you are happy, sweetheart. I can see you are from the way you look at her, but let your mother know!"

Quinn smiled at his mom sheepishly before shrugging. y/n let out a little giggle at that, looking over at Jack and Luke. Once she made eye contact with them they both burst out laughing. Jack nearly falling over as he cackled at his older brother. The rest of the men made their way over, giving y/n a hug and telling her how happy they were to meet her.

Quinn easily fell into conversation with his dad and younger brothers, while his mom turned to y/n, "Dear, we really are so excited to meet you! Please do not call me Mrs. Hughes, it makes me feel far too old. Call me Ellen, and we will definitely be texting Quinn before we try to show up again" Ellen let out a laugh, winking at y/n and wrapping her in another hug.

It was safe to say that the Hugheses absolutely loved y/n, even if the meeting was a tad unconventional. They stayed for another hour, talking with both Quinn and y/n about anything and everything before they left. Once they had walked out the door, y/n turned to Quinn, walking up to him and smiling. She then smacked him on the chest, "We are never doing anything in the kitchen ever again! That was so embarrassing!" She whined at him while he just tucked her into his chest and smiled.

At least she could say that meeting the family was done and over with...

note: my first time writing and posting it! let me know if you like it :)