#THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS IT MADE ME SMILE SO BIG

[lucedilunax]

Bed chem - Q. Hughes

Songs masterlist

song: Bed chem - Sabrina Carpenter

pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary: Three stages in Quinn and his girlfriend relationship: how they met, how they had crush on themselves and how they sex life looks like

warning: mentions of sex (nothing graphic), swear words

words: 1.0k

note: ahh this week songs masterlist will be done, i'm gonna miss it but exciting things are coming in december!

masterlist

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Your friend hit me up so we could connect

Brock’s girlfriend, Bella, and she were friends since they were kids but now, she finally moved to Vancouver. When Bella met Quinn, she knew that she had to set up her friend with him. She believed that they had the identical personality. The same lame jokes, the same awkward laugh and the same commitment to their jobs.

Bella told Brock about this idea and he immediately agreed. He knew her friend and totally saw her and Quinn as a couple. Both of them set them up on a blind date. She and Quinn were skeptical about this. They haven’t been looking for a partner, at least not at this moment and to be honest, they didn’t trust their friends in this field. Eventually, they agreed and went on a date. 

I digress, got me scrollin’ like

Out of breath, got me goin’ like

She adored Quinn. One date and she was all over heels for him. At first, he was giving her weird vibes but when he opened up to her, it turned out that he’s talkative and funny. She couldn't remember the last time a guy made her laugh this hard like he did this one night. When she got back home, she went on instagram and followed him. She started looking at his profile and looking at every single photo. She enjoyed what she was seeing. In her opinion, he was super handsome. 

Quinn, who wasn’t sure about this date, was thankful that he agreed to go. She was different from other women who tried so hard for him because he was an athlete. She didn’t care, he was certain that she didn't even watch hockey because she was asking him the most basic questions when he mentioned this sport. He came back home and saw that she followed him on instagram. He did the same and started looking at her pictures. He couldn’t believe how pretty she is. 

Are you free next week?

The next day, Quinn wrote to her asking if she had time next week. Now, he was leaving but he wanted to invite her to his match. Maybe even go on another date if he gets lucky. Impatient, he was waiting for her response the whole day. He was checking his phone every five minutes to see if she wrote him back. Thankfully, she did. She said that she’s free and it would be a pleasure to go to his game. Quinn was relieved. 

For a moment, Quinn thought that she might not be into him but this message changed it. He said that he’ll give her all the information when he gets back home. She thanked him and in that moment, she asked him about his day. They started writing every day about everything and nothing. His teammates caught him smiling on his phone when he got a message from her. 

Who’s the cute guy with wide blue eyes and the big bad mm?

Quinn wasn’t a big fan of taking photos of himself, but he loved doing this for her. He tried to keep her updated while being away as much as he could. She was sending him pictures of what she’s doing, which was watching tv shows, cooking and working. On the other hand, he always took pictures of himself in a suit and sent them to her. When he was coming back to Vancouver, he took a selfie on the plane and sent her a message coming home, can’t wait to see you soon.

She received the photo when she was out on lunch with her coworkers. She right away opened the message and saw him looking good as always. She stared at her phone too long and one of the girls noticed this. She looked on and saw Quinn’s face. The questions started floating around about her mysterious boyfriend. She felt embarrassed at first but talked about him with love in her voice. 

How you pick me up, pull’ em down, turn me ‘round

She and Quinn haven’t wanted to label themselves. They just went with the flow and if they are made for each other, they’ll end up together. Although, this hasn't stopped them from having sex with each other. Both of them loved this kind of deal. The sex was always incredible, especially when he was coming back pissed.

Quinn was manhandling her like a personal sex toy. She was more than willing to agreed on everything he was giving her. He was throwing her around the bed in every position that he wanted her in. Often, he would bent her over the couch or kitchen island and fuck her roughly. 

How you talk so sweet when you’re doin’ bad things 

She adored Quinn. He was always a well spoken guy who couldn’t miss a day without giving her a compliment. Always showing up with flowers and gifts from his trips. He knew how to make her feel better after a bad day. His words were always on point and she felt loved and adored. He treated her like a princess knowing that she has a low self confidence. He was her hype man. 

Quinn was changing completely when it came to a sex. He was dominating her, doing whatever he wants and likes. In his movements, he remembered about her boundaries but this hadn’t stopped him from treating her like a whore. As much as she loved his quiet and calm side, there was something so tempting and hot in his bedroom side. He enjoyed that she was there for his every beck and call. 

And I bet we’d both arrive at the same time

Despite the fact that Quinn was setting the pace and treated her like he wanted, he always made sure that she cum. He didn’t want her to feel like she’s just for his pleasure. He never denied her orgasm, sometimes controlled it but most of the time, he was overstimulating her. He was giving her at least two climax every time they had sex. His favorite part was when both could cum at the same time.

When it happened for the first time, it was a mind blowing orgasm for Quinn. He couldn’t keep his mind straight the minute he felt his release and her tightening muscles around him. Since that, he made this his own mission to end their sex with them cum in the same moment. She loved when this was happening, when their moans filled the bedroom after reaching a climax.

[hoe4hotchner]

Letter opener | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader x Jack | WC: 0.7k | CW: Fluff

A/N: This was whipped up so quickly y'all won't believe it!! But I just had to get it down on paper cause I finally had the idea how to write this thought I put out weeks ago now. So please don't mind any mistakes 😅

Jack’s excited chatter echoed across the school parking lot as you pulled up to the curb. Even before you had the chance to fully stop, he was sprinting toward the car, backpack bouncing and a beaming smile on his face. You barely had time to roll down the window before he tugged the door open and hopped inside, vibrating with excitement.

“Guess what I made in the woodshop today?” he said, his voice filled with pride as he unzipped his backpack, rummaging through it.

“What did you make?” you asked, grinning at his enthusiasm.

Jack carefully pulled out a small object wrapped in tissue paper and held it out for you to see. As you unwrapped it, your heart melted at the sight of a handcrafted wooden letter opener. It was a little uneven, and the edges were slightly rough, but it was unmistakably shaped with care and love. The handle was carved with simple grooves, and Jack had even tried to smooth the blade.

“It’s for Dad!” Jack announced proudly. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“Like it? He’s going to love it, Jack,” you assured him, ruffling his hair as he beamed. “It’s perfect.”

The ride home was filled with Jack’s endless excitement. He told you about how his teacher helped him cut the wood and how he worked extra hard to sand it just right. Once home, he hopped out of the car and dashed inside, already planning how to present his gift.

“We need wrapping paper,” he declared as you followed him into the kitchen. “And a card. A really good card!”

You combed through the craft drawer, pulling out colorful paper, markers, and tape. Jack picked out Hotch's favorite color for the wrapping paper and decided on a big red bow to finish it off.

Together, you worked on wrapping the letter opener, Jack concentrating hard as he folded the paper. He insisted on doing most of it himself, though he happily accepted your help when the tape refused to cooperate.

“Now the card,” he said, grabbing a piece of cardstock. “What should I write?”

“How about you tell him why you made it?” you suggested, sitting beside him.

Jack nodded, his brow furrowing and his tongue poking slightly past his lips as he wrote in large, careful letters:

Dear Dad,

I made this for you because you’re the bestest dad ever. I thought you could use it for all your work stuff. I hope you like it!

Love,

Jack

You watched him draw little hearts and stick figures at the bottom before slipping the card under the ribbon on the gift. Jack held up the finished package with a grin.

“Perfect,” you said, giving him a high-five.

When Aaron finally came home that evening, looking as tired as ever but smiling when he saw you and Jack waiting for him in the living room, Jack wasted no time.

“Dad! I have something for you!” he exclaimed, bouncing repeatedly as he handed over the carefully wrapped gift.

Aaron knelt to Jack’s level, his expression soft and curious. “For me? What’s the occasion?”

“Just because,” Jack said, his voice brimming with excitement.

Aaron opened the package carefully, his eyes widening as he pulled out the letter opener. He ran his fingers over the carved wood, his expression shifting to one of wonder.

“You made this?” he asked, looking at Jack with so much pride that it made your chest ache.

“Yep! In woodshop!” Jack said. “It’s for your letters and stuff.”

Aaron held it up to the light, admiring the details. “Jack, this is amazing. I’m going to use this every day. Thank you, buddy.”

Jack threw his arms around his dad’s neck, and Aaron hugged him tightly, the letter opener still in his hand. When they pulled back, Aaron’s gaze met yours, and his smile deepened.

“You’ve got a pretty great helper here,” he said softly.

“Don’t I know it,” you replied, your heart warm as you watched them.

Aaron placed the letter opener on the mantel, a spot of honor — where it would stay until the next morning when he would bring it to work with him — and pulled Jack into another hug. The room felt full — of love, pride, and the little joys that made all the hard days and the out of state cases worth it.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

hi!! just wanna say you are my fav gravity falls author and im so obsessed with your fics for stan 🙏🙏 could i please have a stan x fem!reader smut where stan just REALLY likes tits. like a LOT. you have full creative freedom to go wherever you want with this idea i just wholeheartedly believe stan is a tit man <3 thank u and plz never delete this account youre the coolest 💞

Stan Pines is obsessed with you and your breasts ♡ (headcanons + blurb)

author note: hii, angel!! thank you sm for this sweet message, i'm literally melting and giggling and smiling rn!!! i can't even tell you how much this made my day, you're so kind and your words honestly mean the world to me 🤍 

i had so much fun with this idea, so here’s something for you bc ur wish is my command! i hope it’s what u expected. and thank you for supporting me! ♡

I need this grumpy old man so bad, guys send me more asks bout him also comments and/or reblogs are always appreciated, kisses u💋

nsfw, fem reader

♡ Stan is absolutely shamelessly obsessed with tits. your tits, specifically. big, small, somewhere in between, it doesn’t matter! he’s a hungry fucking man. he fucking loves breasts. worships them. adores them. can’t keep his damn eyes (or hands, or mouth) off them. “you’re gonna kill me with these things, doll, fuckin’ hell, look at ‘em.”

♡ the first time you caught him staring, you were a little shy about it, but he didn’t even try to deny it. “what? they’re right there! whaddya want me to do, not look? it’s like puttin’ a steak in front of a starving man and tellin’ him not to eat!” and you made the mistake of saying, “you could touch them if you wanted to.”

♡ because now his hands are always on you. always. you’re trying to cook? his big hands are sliding up your shirt, squeezing, kneading, thumbs brushing over your nipples, he’s testing just how fast he can make that little gasp slip from your lips. and god, all of that is being done with that smug grin on his face. “what? i’m helpin’.” sure, Stan. sure

♡ I wanna develop idea about cooking more, so: as i said, Stan can’t keep his hands off you when you’re cooking. for him it’s just an excuse to get his hands on your body. expect him to come up behind you, press his broad chest into your back, let his hands rest in your waist as his lips ghost over your neck, muttering “damn, you look so pretty, baby, you sure you don’t wanna skip dinner and come straight to bed?” when he’s rubbing his growing bulge against you while you’re stirring the pot, literally humping you in the middle of the kitchen. It’s hard not to laugh at how desperate he is

♡ the type of man who’ll insist he’s innocent even when he’s shamelessly and obviously staring. you could be fully dressed, wearing the baggiest clothes known to man and this filthy old bastard is still eye-fucking you. “what? can’t help it, doll, you’re beautiful.” no shame. zero!

♡ of course Stan loves to bury his face in your chest. it’s his happy place there. his hands sliding up your sides as he presses his face between your breasts, groaning, “fuckin’ heaven, toots. yer like a damn pillow, but better, so soft, so warm.” while you let your fingers run through his hair. It’s more about being intimate and soft though

♡ “goddamn, look at these beauties. best fuckin’ view in the world, ain’t it?”

♡ he’s a sucker for leaving marks on your breasts. bite marks, hickeys, little bruises from his teeth and fingers

♡ uhh. . . hear me out, him stuffing dollar bills into your bra as a joke (or no). “figure they’re safer here than my wallet anyway.”

♡ Stan loves when you wear anything that lets him see your nipples, especially when they’re hard (from cold or because you’re horny?), he goes crazy when thin shirt or a dress hugs your body. “goddamn, sweetie, could stare at those for hours.”

♡ his guilty pleasure is watching you put lotion on after a shower. you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing the cream over your arms, shoulders and chest and that old man is drooling

♡ Stan is so domestic, he loves the way you look in the morning, your breasts barely covered by his tank top that you stole. you stretch, yawning, your nipples peeking through the thin fabric and he’s already pulling you back into bed. “don’t care what we had planned today, baby. yer stayin’ right here with me.”

♡ Stanley gets so distracted when you’re undressing in front of him. doesn’t matter if it’s casual or if you’re trying to tease him, once your top comes off, his eyes are immediately glued to you while his cock already twitching to life in his pants. “jesus christ, woman, yer tryin’ to kill me. c’mere and let me get my hands on ya.”

♡ and when he finally gets you laid out on the bed, his hands worshiping every inch of you, oh, he takes his sweet time. dragging his thumbs over the stiff peaks of your nubs, leaning down to wrap his lips around one, sucking gently before giving it a teasing bite. he’s grinning against your skin when you gasp his name, one hand slipping down to spread your thighs apart while he gets comfortable between them. “love when you make these sounds. what’d i do to deserve this, huh?”

♡ oh, his tongue too. it’s wet and warm, circling slow before he flicks the nub just to watch your back arch. his free hand squeezes your other breast, pinching and tugging lightly on the nipple. he groans from how heavenly you taste. “softest damn tits I’ve ever had my hands on. christ, baby, I love you so much.”

♡ if you let him, he’ll press his cock between your breasts, his hands squishing them together as he ruts into the softness, groaning like a goddamn mess. “fuck, baby— mhmm, your so fuckin’ soft, look at this, huh? takin’ me so good, atta girl.”

♡ more thoughts about breasts fuck. i personally think Stan would love it? because there’s something about the sight of his heavy cock sliding between your breasts, the way you press them together for him, making a perfect, soft little channel for him to fuck into like a needy old man he is. he gasps, praises you, worships you whole as he watches himself disappear between them, his tip slick and glistening with precum every time it peaks out

♡ “fuck, doll, keep squeezin’ ’em like that. jesus, yer gonna make me cum just from lookin’ at ya.” and he does, oh, he does. he spills his seed all over your chest. and when he’s finished, Stan isn’t shy about making a mess, watching his cum drip down your breasts

♡ when he’s drunk, Stan gets even more handsy than usual

♡ you get him worked up sometimes by accident. like, when you’re reaching for something high up on a shelf and your shirt rides up, giving him the perfect view of your waist, those soft curves that drive him absolutely crazy. Stan will mumble something like “god, babe—gimme a second, I gotta go fix somethin’ in the back room. . . you know how it is with my old bones.” but it’s all a damn lie because he just needs to take a breather after staring at your body for the last five minutes

♡ Stan absolutely loves when you’re riding him, leaning over with your tits pressed into his face. he doesn’t care if it’s just for a few seconds or longer, he wants to feel them on his lips. he’ll lift his head slightly to suck on your cute nipples or trail hot kisses down your cleavage, his hands gripping your ass as he pushes his hips up to meet you. “sh-shit, baby, lemme just. . .”

♡ you lean over the counter while talking to him, doesn’t matter if you’re talking about what’s for dinner or how the vending machine ate your dollar, his eyes are locked on your chest only, already undressing you in his mind. he’ll mutter something gruff like, “yeah, uh-huh”

♡ loves to make you squirm. Stan’s a teasing bastard and he knows exactly what he’s doing when he brushes his thumb over your sensitive nipple slowly, watching it pebble under his touch. “sensitive today, huh? what’s the matter, sweetheart? thought ya liked it when i played with these pretty little nubs of yours.” and then he pinches, just to hear you gasp and watch you press your thighs together 

♡ i swear, Stan will make excuses to get you on his lap, just so he can slide his hands under your clothes and play with you while you sit there all flustered, giggling silly. “ain’t no law against touchin’ my girl, is there? c’mon, lemme have my fun, been thinkin’ about these all damn day.”

♡ as I mentioned, he’s a sucker for when you’re on top, bouncing on his cock while his big hands squeeze your waist, holding you so tenderly in his arms despite how hard and rough he bucks his hips into you, his mouth is latched onto your nipples. the way your breasts move drives him insane

♡ during lazy, slow sex, Stan loves lying on his side with you pressed against him, one hand massaging your breast as he thrusts into you slowly from behind. his lips are at your ear, whispering filthy things about how soft and warm you feel

♡ but when it’s rough, he’s gripping your breasts so hard you’ll have finger-shaped bruises the next day, pinching your nipples just to watch you arch your back and tremble under him, “you like that, huh? that’s right, my good fucking girl,” and every word he says he punctuates with a thrust. “can’t get enough of me touchin’ you, can ya?”

♡ reminder: Stan doesn’t just love your breasts because they’re sexy, though, yeah, they are. he loves them because they’re yours. soft, warm, comforting, just like you. and if he can bury his face in them and forget about the rest of the world for a little while? that’s just the cherry on top! a nice bonus!

♡ bonus: little blurb 

sight of you in his suit jacket, oh god. that thing swallows you whole but it’s too big for you so it hangs off your shoulders, exposing your skin, letting him see your thighs as well. Stan’s jacket, smelling like cigars, is over you in a way that makes his throat go dry. and underneath that beautiful little bra you knew would make his head spin, it’s lace and soft cups hugging you in ways he wished his hands were right now. your cleavage drawing his attention like a magnet. no, it’s too goddamn much for Stan to handle

he’s slouched on the armchair, legs spread wide, trying to keep himself from losing control. his eyes latch onto the soft lace of your bra, the way it cups your tits just beautiful enough to tease him. he looks so needy already and you’ve barely touched him

“Jesus christ, doll.” sounds like he’s choking on his own breath. “yer doin’ this on purpose, parading around in my jacket, showin’ off these tits like some goddamn pin-up doll, huh.” his lips curl into a smirk

perfect, just exact reaction you waited. you bite your lip, stepping closer, swaying your hips for him. you play it coy, of course. shifting the jacket like it’s just slipping off, letting one strap of your bra peek out more. “what? this old thing?” you smile like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing

and then he’s got his hands on you in an instant, dragging you into his lap because he can’t stand another second of his pretty girl being out of reach. his palms feels rough as they grip your hips, tugging you down until your thighs straddle his.

“you tryin’ to kill me, toots? walkin’ around like that, wearin’ my jacket.”  

your knees settle on either side of him, and his hands waste no time sliding up your thighs, over your hips, and straight to your waist, holding you close to him because this man is always starved for physical contact. his thumbs dip under the edge of the jacket, brushing the bare skin just above your bra

“Staaanley,” you breathe, your lips hovering just above his. your hands tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

“No, no, no, don’t you ‘stan’ me, pretty,” he mutters, and one of his hands slips behind your back to unclasp your bra with a flick of his fingers, the other cupping your breast like he’s been dying to touch you all day. “you don’t get to tease me like that, wearin’ this fuckin’ outfit, and then say my name like some innocent little thing. you know exactly what you’re doin’, don’tcha?”

his thumb brushes over your nipple and then his lips follow, placing wet and hot kisses along your breast, sucking gently before biting down to make you gasp.  

“That’s it,” he groans against your skin. “wanna hear all those pretty little sounds you make, baby. fuck, you’ve got me harder than a goddamn rock.”  

he’s saying true because you feel the evidence of that pressing against your core, even through your panties. his free hand slides between your thighs, fingers pressing against the damp fabric and you whimper when he rubs slow circles over your needy clit.  

Stan grins as he pushes the lace aside. “you’re fuckin’ soaked. all this from me touchin’ your tits? jesus, doll, yer even dirtier than i thought.”

his fingers tease your wet entrance, rubbing over your folds before dipping inside, and your head falls against his shoulder, moaning as he pumps them slow and deep.  

“C’mon, baby,” Stanley brushes his lips over your ear as he fucks you with his fingers, his other hand still kneading your breast. “tell me who you belong to. say my name, and i’ll give you everything you want. everything. I’ll fuck you so good.”

you moan his name, digging your nails into his shoulders 

“Yes, that’s it,” his hand moves faster. “gonna make you scream for me, sweetheart. make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

a Second Chance | Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader

Summary: After being in a secret relationship with Rafe and becoming pregnant, he denied the entire relationship, making it known your son wasn’t his. However, he can’t deny it for much longer - your son is the spitting image of Rafe. 

Part 1 

A/N: This is a continuation of the fic above. This can be read as stand alone or you can read the other first for a bit of background on how things played out and telling Rafe you were expecting. 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

Your son's giggles were music to your ears. You smiled in adoration at his uncle JJ chasing him through the yard, his little toddler legs moving as fast as they could. He loved his uncle JJ. And his other aunts and uncles too. After all the drama with Rafe, he and the other Pogues stepped in, becoming your village and boy are you glad you had them. You wouldn’t have been able to do it without them. 

Rafe continued the story, the baby wasn’t his and you were never in a relationship. However, as time has passed, people are starting to get suspicious, especially as your son grows because he’s the spitting image of Rafe. It is getting to the point, Rafe truly can’t deny him. 

“Come on boys, let's get to the beach before it gets crowded,” You call out to JJ and Jackson; the other Pogues loading up in the Twinkie. You and JJ worked hard, going in half on a car that JJ rebuilt to make it drivable. JJ knew the Twinkie wouldn’t be a safe vehicle to transport his tiny nephew and made it his mission to find you something sustainable and reliable. 

“Mama!” Jackson squeals as he nears, jumping into your arms. 

You laugh and kiss his head before placing him in his carseat and securing him. “Ready to go to the beach?” 

He nods with a big grin; Rafe’s smile. The smile you’d fell in love with. You can’t deny it doesn’t hurt a little when you look at your son, because staring back is Rafe and all the hurt that came with him. But you wouldn’t trade Jackson for anything in the world. He’d brought light into your life and filled your broken heart. Jackson is so smart and intelligent, even at only 3 years old. He’s got a sweet and loving personality and he loves when he can make you laugh. And Rafe is missing it all, time he will never get back.

~

After settling at a spot on the beach, you all unpacked, setting the chairs and umbrella up. Pope dropping the cooler under the umbrella with a grunt, “jeez what the hell did you guys pack in that thing.” 

Jackson started tugging you toward the water, “come mama!” 

“No baby hold on, let's put sunscreen on first. Then you can get in the water.” 

He pouts but stops tugging, letting you lather him in the sunscreen. 

“Once mama is finished me and you can go check out those waves!”  JJ holds his fist to Jackson, who returns with a fist bump. 

“Alright you’re finished!” You kiss him on the head and he takes off toward the water with JJ. JJ picks him up and wades into the water with him. Jackson laughing hysterically as the waves crash against them. 

“beer?” Kie asks, as you take a seat in the beach chair next to her. 

"Yes thank you,” you sigh, taking a sip, “I love that the beach is nearly empty-” 

Loud music catches you and the other Pogues attention, watching as a couple trucks and a jeep drive thru the sand behind you. You recognized Topper’s jeep and groaned. 

“Please keep driving..” Sarah pleads. 

“Anywhere but here.” Kie adds. 

“Of course.” John B says as they stop a little ways down the beach, “This entire beach and they pick that spot?” 

You take a sip of your beer, nearly choking on it as you see someone hop out of the dark blue truck. Rafe. 

“Shit.” Kie mumbles. 

He rounds the truck and opens the passenger side, another person gets out of the truck and it’s Sofia. 

Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, “you gonna be ok?” 

You give her a reassuring smile and nod, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine.” You gaze out at the ocean, JJ has noticed the kooks and he looks over at you, a look of concern on his face. You nod at him, letting him know you’re okay. He continues to play with Jackson, holding his hand as he stands with his toes in the sand, jumping over the waves as they break against the beach. 

“We’re both adults here. Maybe me more than him but it’s ok.” You glance between Sarah and Kie, “He’s living his best life - while I raise our son that he denies is his.” 

John B squeezes your shoulders, “And you’re doing a damn good job at it too.” 

The rest of the Pogues pipe in, “Hell ya you are,” “You’re killing it.” 

“Thanks you guys,” Your eyes dance between the Pogues, “I couldn’t have done it without you guys,” Your eyes grow teary, “Ok okay stop you guys are gonna make me cry,” You shake your hands out, wiping your face, “enough sappy talk. Let’s enjoy our beach day!” 

~ 

Rafe watches you and the Pogues playing with Jackson by the water, taking a sip of his beer. 

Sofia comes up beside him, wrapping her arm around his waist, “Her son is cute,” She says with a smile, looking up at him. 

He hums in response, not pulling his eyes from you and Jackson. He knew now, there was no denying Jackson. He looked just like him. Topper flat out asked the other day if Jackson was his. 

“He looks just like you man.” 

Rafe shrugged, “I don’t see it. He’s not mine though. She was screwing everyone on the island. There’s no telling who the father is.” He tried to keep up with the lie, but Topper wasn’t stupid. Topper knew you weren’t sleeping around, you’d never been like that. But he let him continue the lie, dropping the topic completely. 

“I bet our kids will be cute.” 

Now that caught his attention. He snaps his head toward her, “What?” 

Sofia smiles, “When we have kids, I bet they will be cute.” She’s in dreamland, wondering what life with Rafe Cameron would be like. Getting married, having a big house on the island, having kids etc etc. Little did she know, Rafe wasn’t planning a future with her. 

He nod and takes another sip of his beer, deciding not to say anything. 

“Jackson wait-” 

Rafe turns in time to see a ball rolling his way and Jackson chasing it. You weren’t too far behind. 

Rafe bends down and picks up the ball, staying at Jackson’s level as he approaches. Jackson is hesitant to take it. 

“Jackson, you can’t just run off-” 

Rafe feels like he’s staring at a mirror. Topper’s right, he looks just like him. The little boys eyes are innocent and he’s overcome with a feeling he can’t describe. He feels protective of the small boy in front of him, like a father would. A surge of love flowing through him. How could anyone leave this boy without a dad? How could he have abandoned his son? Something changed the moment he looked into Jackson’s eyes.

“Here you go, buddy,” Rafe holds the ball out to him with a smile. 

Jackson hesitantly takes it, looking up at you, with a small pout on his lips, “Sorry mama, my ball.” 

Rafe slowly stands, the two of you coming face to face for the first time since you told him you were pregnant. 

“It’s ok baby, you just can’t run off like that.” You run your fingers through his hair. You will yourself to meet Rafe’s eyes, “Sorry about that, we’ll get out of your way.” 

“It’s ok.” Rafe can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. Is it possible to be more beautiful? Motherhood treated you well and he’s overwhelmed with pride to know you did it all on your own because of his stupid decision. His stupid immature decision. 

Your eyes glance to Sofia, who steps up next to Rafe, pulling him from his trance, “your son.. he’s adorable.” 

You give her a small smile, “Thank you.” 

Rafe is mesmerized by you. He doesn’t know what’s over come him but the feelings that he buried deep inside have started bubbling to the surface. 

“Jackson, you know you’re not suppose to talk to strangers.” JJ takes a dig at Rafe as he approaches, scooping up Jackson in his arms. 

Rafe’s jaw clenches at JJ’s comment. Stranger. He’s no stranger. He’s his father- but he catches himself. JJ’s right. He truly is a stranger to him and he has no right to call himself his father. 

Jackson wraps his tiny arms around JJ’s neck, snuggling into his shoulder. That stirs some jealousy within Rafe. He should be the one hugging his son and playing ball with him on the beach. He should be the one there, the three of you as a family. 

“We better get back. Sorry for bothering you guys.” You apologized, following JJ back to the rest of the pogues. 

Rafe watches you walk away, his heart aching. He should have told you the truth. And he shouldn’t have lied all these years about Jackson. 

 ~ 

JJ holds Jackson with one arm and wraps his other around your shoulders, “you ok?” 

You nod, “I’m good. You shouldn’t have made the comment you did” 

JJ rolls his eyes, “it’s not like it wasn’t true. He’s a stranger.” 

You shrug, “I know but-“ 

“No buts. He’s a stranger to Jackson. Even if he shares DNA with him.” He snaps back. 

It was a touchy subject with JJ and you knew the conversation was over. JJ was protective over you and he held a huge grudge against Rafe for abandoning the two of you. Especially Jackson. He wanted Jackson to have a dad, something you and him didn’t have growing up. 

~ 

Rafe laid in bed that night with you and Jackson on his mind. He couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning the entire night. Sofia is sound asleep next to him. He squints, peering to check the time on the clock, 6:37 am. He sighs running a hand over his face before quietly getting out of bed and toward the shower. He wanted to see you again and talk. He needed to talk to you. 

“Rafe?” Sofia’s sleepy voice calls out to him, hands feeling his spot on the bed. 

Rafe comes to her side, showered and dressed, kisses her forehead. “Early meeting. Be back later.” 

She hums and turns back over, falling back asleep. 

~ 

He pulls up to the Maybank house a little while later. Glancing over in the passenger seat, coffee for you and him. He hopes you still liked your coffee with 2 creams and 2 sugars. He also picked up some muffins and donuts, unsure what Jackson would like. 

He was nervous, gripping the steering wheel. Maybe he shouldn’t do this. He can still turn around and go home. You don’t even know he’s here yet. 

He shakes his head, no there’s no talking him out of this. He needs to have this talk. He’s 2 years two late. Technically almost 3 years. 

Well shit there’s no turning around now cause here you come walking toward his truck. He takes a deep breath, now or never. 

He steps out of the truck, “morning.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” You ask tightening your robe around you, “it’s nearly 7:30 in the morning.” 

“Brought coffee and breakfast.” He says, reaching inside to grab the coffee and bag. “I was hoping we could talk?” 

“Now you want to talk? You’re a couple years too late Rafe.” You’re eyeing the coffee, yearning for your boost of caffeine. 

He sighs, “I know, I have no right to show up here unannounced either but, after seeing you guys yesterday I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He offers the coffee, “two cream and two sugar?” 

You nod, slowly reaching to take the coffee, “you still remember?” You ask, surprised. Even after all these years he remembered? You felt a soft tug on your heart. No y/n. You tell yourself, smooshing those feelings back down. It was not the time to go soft. 

He shrugs, also handing you the bag of muffins and donuts, “It’s not the hardest coffee order, but yes I still remember. There’s muffins and donuts in there, I wasn’t sure-” He scratches the back of his neck, growing uncomfortable, “I wasn’t sure what Jackson liked.” 

“He’s a fan of both. He pretty much will eat anything,” You turn and head for the porch, “Everyone is still asleep, let me put this inside and we can go to the dock.” 

Rafe nods and takes the time to check out what all you two have done with the place. It was different than when he was here last, new dock and boathouse, the landscaping had been cleaned up and the house actually looked livable. Jackson’s toys were strewed around the grass. 

“ready?” You ask, heading down toward the dock, Rafe following. You two take a seat on the bench at the end of the dock. 

“So, now that Jackson is older, people are starting to notice how much he looks just like you. You can’t keep up with whatever lie you’ve been spreading. Are you here to try and make me come up with an excuse for where his father is? So, you can go about your life?” You ask, bitterly. 

“No, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to step up and apologize. And explain my immature behavior.” He stands back up, pacing the dock in front of you. His nerves are getting the best of him. He had this speech all planned out but sitting in front of you, he’s forgot what to say. “I wasn’t in the right head space. And I for sure wasn’t ready to be a father. You saw what I was like. I was drinking, partying. Hell, I was even doing coke at that point.” 

You sit quietly, sipping your coffee as you listen to him. It wasn’t anything you didn't know, to tell you the truth. You also were doing all those things at the time, minus the coke, but as soon as you found out you were pregnant, you’d stepped up and knew all of that had to come to an end. You were going to be a mother. 

“I was doing the same things, Rafe. I don’t see that being an excuse. I stepped up when I needed to because I had too. It was something you needed to do as well, but you weren’t ready to give up that life yet. You weren’t ready to give up your lifestyle to become a father.” 

“I know. and that’s the truth, I didn’t want to give up my partying lifestyle for a kid. I was also scared what people would think of me, getting a girl from the cut pregnant. No one even knew we were dating-” 

“So you were ashamed of me? You’re really not doing yourself any favors right now-” You scoffed, standing, “I get it, Rafe. It would have been the worst thing for a kook to get a pogue pregnant. People would have judged you and never looked at you the same-” You turn to head back toward the house. “I’m so tired of this kook vs pogue bullshit.” 

“Baby-” He gently grabs your arm to stop you, letting the pet name slip, “I mean y/n- That’s not what I was trying to say. Fuck, this is not how I wanted this to go. Please, I’m trying to apologize. I was an immature kid back then and I’m here now to apologize, make things right and take responsibility.” 

“Rafe,” you sigh, “we’re doing fine right now. Without having you in our lives. We’ve made it work. It’s been 3 years, just let it go. I’ll keep on with the lie, you can continue to live your life how you want. Get married, have other kids. Whatever you want to do.” 

“I don’t want to do that, y/n. That’s what I’m here for. I want to be apart of Jackson’s life. A part of your life.” His hand has slipped down from your arm to your hand, his thumb subconsciously caressing your skin. “Please give me another chance. I’ve changed. I promise I’m not the man I was before. My dad has made me a manager at his company. I have a steady job, a house of my own. I’m not the immature teenager I was before.” His eyes are pleading for another chance to do the right thing.

You don’t know how to describe it as you stare into Rafe’s eyes, that they look the same as they did when you fell in love with him, but have a different softness to them. He’s genuine. But you don’t know if you can trust him. He broke you and you weren’t ready to open those doors again. You weren’t ready to open yourself back to him. You had Jackson to think about now and had to take his feeling into account. Could you trust Rafe? 

“What about Sofia? What does she think of all this?” You remove your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. “She seems like a great girl.” 

“If I’m honest with you, I haven’t talked to her about it. Me and her aren’t serious.” 

“Maybe you should go home and talk things over with her. I can’t make a decision now. I need time to think it over.” 

His shoulders sag in defeat, but he ultimately nods, “Take all the time you need.. I’ll be here waiting.” 

~ 

Rafe left your house and immediately went to Tannyhill, hoping he could catch his dad before leaving for his meeting at 11. “Morning Rose,” He greets as he enters the kitchen, Rose is drinking coffee at the island, Wheezie next to her. He kisses Wheezie on the head, “Wheezie,” 

“Morning,” They say in unison. 

“Is Dad still here?” 

“In his office,” Rose nods, “He had a couple things to finish before the meeting.” 

“Thanks,” Rafe heads toward his office, knocking, “Dad?” 

“Come in,” Ward calls out, “Morning Rafe, you ready for the big meeting this morning?” 

“Ready. But I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He takes a seat across from Ward’s desk. Ward can tell there is something on his son’s mind and closes his laptop to give his full attention. 

“What’s going on?” 

Rafe takes a deep breath, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, “You know y/n Maybank?” 

“Yes-” Ward says, leaning forward a little, “What about her?” 

“Me and her dated a few years ago.”

“Mmhmm.” ward nods, “What about it?” 

Rafe takes another deep shaky breath. Ward begins to think about it, remembering she had a son. Who was about 3- 

“The boy- Jackson. He’s yours?” Ward asks in disbelief. 

Rafe gives a short nod, “I fucked up.” 

Ward slowly sits back in his chair, taking it all in. Old Ward would have blown up, told Rafe how stupid could he have been. “How long have you known?” He asks. 

“Since she told me she was pregnant.” He can’t help but get teary eyed, still on edge as he waits for his dad to blow up on him. “I told you I fucked up.” 

Ward mulls over this new and shocking information. “Why wouldn’t you say anything?” Ward asks. 

“I was terrified. Immature. I didn’t want to be a dad. I was partying all the time and wasn’t ready to give it up and be a dad.” He tells him honestly, “It was a shitty decision and I regret it.” 

“You should have took responsibility son.” He sighs, “But I know you weren’t in the right head space.” He stands and rounds his large desk, taking the seat next to his son, “Rehab changed you for the better.” 

Rafe nods, “I’m trying to fix things. I want to be in his life. I went to her this morning and we talked. She’s hesitant to give me a chance.” 

“She has every right to be hesitant.” Ward defends, you, “That’s her son.” 

“He’s mine too,” Rafe says, but sighs, “But you’re right. It is her son. I’ve given her no reason to trust me.” 

Ward nods, “Time will give her that. You’ve done the hardest part. Admitted you were wrong and apologized.” He squeezes Rafe’s shoulder, “It’s time for you to take responsibility.” 

Rafe nods in response, “I’m sorry dad. I should have told you the truth.” 

Ward agrees. He gives Rafe a small smile, “So I have a grandson, huh?” 

~ 

Rafe was in agony. It had been a week since he talked to you. You hadn’t tried reaching out yet and he was starting to get worried that you weren’t going to give him a second chance. He’d called it quits with Sofia, who didn’t take it easily, but she admitted she knew she’d seen a change in him after the beach day. And had admitted she’d wondered about Jackson. She saw the resemblance and the way Rafe had looked at you. He was still in love with you. 

You’d told the Pogues that morning over breakfast, JJ had flipped. 

“Like hell he deserves another chance!” 

“JJ, you don’t get to make the decision, I do.” 

JJ had left with a slam of the front door. He come back a couple hours later, calm and agreed. It wasn’t his place, but he still didn’t trust him. He didn’t want to see you hurt again. 

JJ had left with a slam of the front door. He come back a couple hours later, calm and agreed that it wasn’t his place, but he still didn’t trust him. He didn’t want to see you hurt again. 

~

Your heart is pounding against your chest as you take the stairs up to Rafe’s front door. You looked around the outside of the house. It was a nice, expensive house on the water. Two story on stilts as most houses near water are built. 

His truck was parked under the house so you knew he was home. 

You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. 

Rafe was surprised to see you at his front door. It had been a week and he was beginning to wonder if you were even gonna make a decision. The longer it took the more he felt he wasn’t going to get his second chance. 

“Hey,” 

“Hey,” you point inside, “can I come in so we can talk?” 

“Yeah yeah of course.” He opens the door wider for you to enter, closing it behind you. 

The place was clean and sleek. It looked like a bachelor pad. 

“You want anything to drink? I’ve got water, juice, a beer..” he chuckles softly, motioning to the kitchen. 

You follow him into the kitchen, “Water is fine,” You lay your purse in the chair at the island. “I’m gonna be honest, I’m nervous.”

He fixes you a glass of water and you take a chance to look around the room. 

“no need to be nervous,”

You see in the corner of the living room there’s a small kids battery powered jeep and a couple other shopping bags around it. 

He sees you have noticed the stuff and slides the water to you, “my dad.. he uh he bought it for Jackson and Rose picked up a few things for him too.” 

“Thats’s very sweet of them. But wait, you told your dad?” You’re surprised and look to him, “I thought you hated him.. you guys didn’t have a great relationship.” 

“We patched things up after I got back from rehab.” 

“Rehab?” You ask shocked, “I didn’t know, when did you go to rehab?” 

He clears his throat, “few months after we broke up. Or I broke things off. Ward found me half dead on some laced coke I bought and when I woke up he made me go to rehab. Best decision I could have made.” 

“That’s awesome, Rafe. Im happy for you. I know having a better relationship with your dad was what you always talked about wanting.” You give him a soft smile. 

“Yeah yeah it’s good now.” He heads toward the back deck overlooking the water and you follow taking in the view but Rafe, he’s watching you, taking you in. 

You catch him watching you and can’t help but blush, “why are you looking at me like that?” 

Now he blushes, embarrassed he’d been caught, “sorry, we can sit here to talk.” He takes a seat on the couch and you take a seat on the other side. 

You take a deep breath, “I’ve done a lot of thinking over this.” 

He nods, hands clasped together he places his elbows on his thighs leaning closer, “yeah?” 

You look at him, “We’ll start out easy and slow. He’s not to know you’re his dad yet. I want him to be comfortable with you. He doesn’t truly understand the whole dad thing either, so I don’t want to confuse him. We call all hang out together first and then if I feel comfortable enough maybe you can take him on your own for a couple hours. I don’t trust you yet, Rafe. You broke that trust and I need time. But I believe everyone deserves a second chance. And I want Jackson to grow up with a dad who loves him. Something JJ and I didn’t have growing up.” 

He resists every muscle in his body not to hug you. “I can be that. I will be that.” 

He reaches over and you let him take your hand, “thank you for this.” He gives it a gentle squeeze, “you don’t know how much this chance means to me.”

~ 

A couple days later you and Jackson meet Rafe at his house, planning to spend the day there. Rafe had asked you a million questions about Jackson; his likes, dislikes, what toys he liked to play with, what he liked to do. He wanted to know as much as he could so he could be prepared for today. 

“Hey!” Rafe greets at the door, “What’s up little man?” 

Jackson’s shy at first and he peeks out from your shoulder at Rafe, muttering a quiet, “Hi.” 

“He’s a little shy. And he just woke up from a nap.” you follow Rafe inside and he helps to take the bag off your shoulders. 

“It’s all good. I understand.” He nervously wipes his hands on his shorts, “I got his favorite foods. The kitchen is stocked and-” 

“Toys!” Jackson gasps, wiggling out of your arms and immediately taking off toward the pile of toys. The jeep Ward bought him was there and a couple other new toys Rafe picked up.  

“Can I play?” Jackson asks, his eyes lighting up. 

“They’re yours! You can play with them all. After lunch we can take that jeep outside and you can ride around the yard.” Rafe says, taking a seat on the couch to watch him. 

“You didn’t have to get all these...” You sit next to Rafe. 

Rafe shrugs, “I know but he didn’t have anything here. I want him to be comfortable.” He slips off the couch and sits in the floor next to Jackson, helping him open the toys. Rafe teaches him how to play with a couple of them, showing him how they work. 

You couldn’t believe the change in Rafe. It was like a different man sitting in the floor. And the resemblance between the two was uncanny. Both had the same look of concentration on their face and you laughed softly to yourself after snapping a picture. Sarah had asked how it was going, so you sent her the picture. She was happy to know her brother was stepping up and also made a comment about their same look of concentration. 

As you stared at Rafe, a new feeling was starting to take form. A longing for something more and hope that maybe you could get your happy ever after and your dream of a family to become a reality.

Comments, likes, & reblogs are always greatly appreciated! I love to read your thoughts on it. 

[rinawantstosleep]

"I don't like your stupid, white hair." 

"And I don't like your boring, brown hair, buddy."

"W-well... well, I don't like your ugly, doo-doo face!"

"Your mama does." 

The two could go bickering like this for hours on end if you let them. What may seem to be a mutually digressive arrangement is actually an oddly adorable bonding in disguise. Satoru and your son put on a front of being annoyed at the other's presence, but you've never seen them apart for longer than a few minutes at a time. They've grown on each other; much like how moss grows on a statue that's been lingering out in the open. An indispensable cycle of life that's truly inevitable. 

"No, she doesn't! She doesn't! She likes... sof- sofis... sofistogated guys."

"You mean sophisticated?"

"Shut up!" 

You'd been terrified that your little one wouldn't have a father-figure to rely on anymore after you divorced your husband. However, it was something you had to do for his sake. The child deserved to live in an environment that wasn't always reeking of alcohol, where he wasn't subjected to the constant, drunk yelling of a pathetic excuse of a father who couldn't get his shit together and lazed around at home all day while you did all the work. If that meant that you'd have to raise him on his own, then so be it. At least he'd be raised properly. Signing those papers was, by far, the easiest decision you'd ever made. 

"I'm not shutting up because a kid in clothes too big for him is telling me to."

"You... you're the one always wearing tight clothes around the house to impress my mama."

"No, that's because I'm ripped. Gotta show off what I've got. And your mama loves that." 

"Oh, yeah? That means you show off your... your - um... ugly, doo-doo face!"

Would you regard it a miracle that Satoru just so happened to stumble into your life around that very time? Well, relatively. Meeting him wasn't something you'd planned, nor anticipated. The kind stranger who offered to pay for your order at a café a year ago has somehow, thanks to quite a romantic sequence of events, turned into your boyfriend; a rock to lean on for when you need the support. And, also, someone that your little one can look up to (with the fun, bonus benefit of the pair getting into silly, childish quarrels nine times out of ten). What is Satoru if not a three-hundred-and-thirty-six-month-old toddler, too? Puts your five-year-old to utter shame with the way he acts. 

"Enough. Baby, we've been over this before. Behave."

"But, mama, he's being a meanie!" "But, babe, he's acting all pretentious." 

The responses come simultaneously: one is high pitched and whiny, and the other is your son. Sometimes, you have to pause and ask yourself how you haven't gone insane yet. It's the love that keeps you from falling apart. How could you ever harbor any other feeling for these two, except for wanting to cherish them? You just... need to work on a pet name that doesn't apply to the both of them at once.  

"I don't want to hear it. Sweetie, finish your lunch. And, Satoru?" 

"Yes, honey-who-loves-me-and-my-'ugly, doo-doo'-face?" He's smirking, snickering, while saying this, the sly bastard. When will the pair ever relent on trying to one-up the other? 

"Why have you got one of my hair ties on your wris- never mind. Don't forget to change the sheets in our room. I'd do it myself if not for the meeting I need to get to in an hour." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

Cue a tiny gasp. 

"But, mama..." The voice of your little one breaks the peaceful silence at the dining table once again. His legs start kicking back and forth - a sign that he's growing restless - from the chair they're dangling off of. He's got a protest already forming up in that head of his. "Toru said he'd take me to the skate park today. And he promised to get ice cream after."

Toru, huh? That's new. You can't help the smile that paints itself on your lips. The two have been getting along pretty well, it seems, contrary to all the bickering they do. That's always nice to know. It's amusing to see the dynamic they've built. One second, they're riling each other up to no end, the next, they've already formed a secret alliance to go out and have fun together. How cute. "Is that so?"

"Mhm! So that means we need to leave riiight after I finish my lunch. Don't get mad, okay?" 

It's the small things like these that warm your heart. Some sacrifices can be made if it's in regards to this adorable (step, even though you haven't married Satoru yet)father-son moment. The sheets are insignificant right now. "Awwh. Of course I won't get mad, baby. It's good for you to want to spend more time with Satoru. Isn't he a fun guy?"

"... maybe." 

. . . 

"Just make sure he's safe out there. Helmet and gear on at all times, no big ramps. And don't let him eat too much sugar. He'll get hyper. Once the rush dies down, he'll get cranky -"

Satoru's arm wraps around your waist before you can finish your sentence, pulling you overwhelmingly close to his frame. Instinctively, your arms move to wrap around his neck, just the way Satoru likes it. Oh, how he wants to just throw everything else out the window and drag you to the nearest room with a lock in place.

"You -" A quick peck to your lips, followed by a nibble on your bottom lip. "- worry -" Another peck. "- too -" Another. "- much." Then, an unexpected bite on the shell of your right ear. "I'd never allow myself to let that little demon get hurt; or hyper."

Large hands wander across the curve of your back, resting firm on your butt. Satoru doesn't want to expose your son to the way he's squeezing your plush flesh with his long digits, so he shifts to have your back pressed against the wall. A perfect opportunity to kiss you - which the man can't help but seize. What else is a smitten boyfriend to do while waiting for your son to get ready and come down from his room upstairs? Lips against lips until one of you pulls away for air. "He's safe with me, okay?" 

"Okay." 

"Atta girl. Now, you go that meeting of yours. And, tonight, after we both get back- oww."

"Groooss! Don't kiss my mama, or you'll make her ugly! Like youuu!"

"Baby, no. Don't kick Satoru's ankles-"

"I'm saving you, mama."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper

reader x jay

jay, your long time school crush

a trip between your friend group and his to a cabin in the woods

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

check out my masterlist!

“will you loosen up!” your friend, yuna, exclaimed. “we are here to have fun!”

“hard to have fun when it’s freezing, a snow storm coming our way, and to top it off, you booked a cabin on a hill in the woods!” you rattled off, pulling your suite case out of the rented SUV.

your other friend, sully, scoffed, “you need to leave those suspense books and movies, alone.”

you huffed crossing your arms. “how did you even know my mind was going that way?”

“because your mind always does.” sully replied.

“no it doesn’t.”

“yes it does.” both sully and yuna replied with a laugh.

you huffed once again, your coat not doing much to keep you warm. “when are these other friends of yours coming, yuna?”

yuna smiled big, “oh soon. they should be arriving any minute now!”

you helped the girls with their suite cases, bright lights coming up the icy driveway. it had began to snow slightly, and was thankful you all made it before the actual storm.

3 boys got out of the SUV. jake, sunghoon, and jay.

you gasped, nearly hyperventilating. “yuna, i will kill you!” you said through gritted teeth, and both girls just giggled. “why didn’t you tell me it was them three? specially, jay!”

“because if i told you he was coming, you would’ve backed out!” yuna sighed.

“you’ve had a crush on him since high school. it’s been three years and we are now third years in college. it’s time to make a move.”

“and lose that damn virginity!”

you scoffed, slapping yuna’s arm, “not so loud, would you?”

yuna just laughed as the three boys came up the driveway with their own suitcases or duffles.

“hi ladies.” jake smiled.

“hi jake, jay, and sunghoon!” yuna smiled eagerly, you and sully waving.

all three boys greeted you by name and sully along with yuna.

“i’m glad you came!” jake said to you.

jay added with a chuckle, “when yuna said you were coming, we almost didn’t believe it.”

“oh yeah, well, i didn’t have a choice really.” you mumbled.

“it’s getting cold and my ass is freezing! let’s get inside. there’s a fireplace, how romantic!” yuna clapped and you all followed her up the steps, careful not to fall.

well, you tried to be careful, but ended up stepping on the snow wrong, and almost twisted your ankle.

jay caught you, “careful there.”

“oh, um thanks.”

yuna unlocked the door, you all rushing in to the warmth of the cabin airbnb. you all awed in delight with how beautiful it was.

“how many bedrooms does this place have?” sunghoon asked dropping his duffle.

jay and jake immediately went to the wood burning fireplace to add the already prepared, chopped wood.

“3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms.” yuna replied.

“three boys, three girls,” jay tapped his chin, “how are we going to divide it?”

“i vote jay sleeps alone. he sleeps with his eyes open sometimes.” jake shivered at the thought.

you and the other girls laughed. jay shrugged, not complaining to have a bedroom to himself.

“ok so jay in one of the master—,”

“why does he get the master?” sunghoon objected.

“because you and jake are getting the room with the bunk beds!” yuna laughed.

“okay, we can deal with that!” jake said excitedly, sunghoon chuckling.

children.

“the girls and i will share the other master bedroom.”

“won’t it be crowded for you three?” jay asked. “i can sleep on the couch—,”

“absolutely no way!” yuna interrupted. “we’ll be fine. we’re used to sharing small beds.”

jake looked at all you girls with a flirty expression.

“get your head out of the gutter, sim!” sully screeched.

jake laughed. “let’s just unpack and get ready for dinner.”

about an hour and a half later, you all had changed into comfy clothes, and made 3 frozen pizzas in the oven.

3 bottles of alcohol open—whiskey, wine, and tequila along with some seltzer cans and beers.

“let’s play never have i ever!” yuna offered.

you groaned. “that juvenile game?”

“and you have a better idea?” yuna narrowed her eyes at you, but you shook your head with a sigh. “no.”

“it’s settled then!” yuna clapped.

she was so happy and eager this trip.

jay watched you closely. he has of course noticed you around like the other guys have, noting how pretty you are, but you stayed much to yourself.

“i’ll start,” yuna tapped her chin in thinking, “mhm, never have i ever made out with a stranger!”

all three boys and sully took a drink.

jake looked at you and yuna, “really? neither of you?”

yuna and you both shook your head no.

“my turn!” sully said, “never have i ever, got a piercing other than in my ear!”

you and yuna drank to that. the boys raised their eyebrows at the both of you.

“matching belly button piercings.” yuna leaned against you.

“and it hurt like a bitch too!” you sighed.

“you still have it?” jake asked.

“i don’t, but she does.” yuna said. “my mom threw a fit!”

“can we see it?” sunghoon asked.

you shrugged, standing up showing off your belly piercing.

“nice!” jay nodded. “can i go?”

“sure!” yuna agreed.

“never have i ever had sex with a girl other than in a bedroom.”

“LAME!” both sunghoon and jake laughed. they took sips of their drinks.

“should’ve phrased that a bit differently jay.” sully laughed.

“fine, never have i ever had sex with someone else other than in a bedroom.” jay rolled his eyes.

yuna and sully took a drink, leaving you and jay out.

“yall are lame!”

“no surprise she’s not drinking.” yuna laughed.

“what?” jake asked and you slapped yuna’s arm once again, shaking your head.

“what’s the wildest place you had sex?” yuna asked.

“just a car at a park.” sully answered.

jake smirked, “dressing room.”

“hotel balcony.” sunghoon answered.

“hot tub.” yuna was the last to reply. “and sunghoon, we’ll revisit that balcony answer later.”

“we both know the last two who didn’t drink probably have only ever fucked in a bed.” jake joked.

“nothing wrong with that.” jay defended.

you kept your lips closed. jay looked at you as you stayed quiet not backing him up.

“don’t you agree?”

“oh, uh, yeah—um, i guess.” you shrugged, lacking the confidence in your answer.

“what do you mean, you guess?” jake teased. “don’t tell me—,”

“can we move on, please!” you rushed out. “someone say something that’ll make me drink!”

“never have i ever had a crush on someone in this room.” yuna smirked looking right at you.

damnit. you took more than enough sips.

each of the boys took a sip, you the only girl. “what, you both never found them attractive?” you stared at yuna and sully shocked. “or me?” you teased.

“so what you’re saying is you find one of us attractive?” jake grinned.

you looked wide eyed between the three boys. “i don’t like this game, let’s play something else.” you suggested nervously, gulping your drink, emptying the cup.

jay was wondering, who did you have a crush on in this room? he knew sunghoon had a small crush on sully, jake having a crush on yuna, sully, and even you at one point.

yuna pulled out uno cards.

“oh thank goodness, a normal game!”

“no way! we’re using this to play truth or dare!”

you closed your eyes taking a deep breath. “oh great.” you mumbled.

“let me explain.” yuna began, shuffling the cards. “if you draw a red or blue card, it’s a dare. if you draw green or yellow, truth. wildcard, you choose truth or dare, if you get any of the draw two or fours, then you pick a truth or dare and give it to someone.”

“what if we run out of questions to ask?” sunghoon brought up.

“ya, that’s what google is for! sadly i left my sister’s game. you know the one with explicit content and questions.”

“ryunjin is probably hiding it from you.” sully scoffed, sipping her drink.

“whatever, let’s play!” yuna pouted.

after another twenty minutes of truth or dare, yuna was tired of the boring stuff. you still weren’t flirting or making a move on jay. jake was getting annoying. sully was flirting with sunghoon, who claims so much she doesn’t have a crush on.

“next, you pick.” yuna looked at you with a bored expression.

you picked out of the deck—red.

yuna smiled wickedly, “let me ask you the dare.”

you swallowed nervously. so far, any cards you picked that were dares, the group went easy on you. but you could tell yuna was bored and on a mission.

“yuna—,”

“out of this group of boys, who’d you pick to have sex with?”

all three of the boys choked on their beers. “yuna, ya!” jay scolded.

“a little warning would be nice!” jake added wiping his chin.

your face felt hot. “oh, uh, yu—i don’t think,” you stuttered out looking between the three boys and yuna and sully.

“just pick one! not that hard!” sully smiled.

then yuna put you on blast. she rolled her eyes, “fuck this! who out of the three boys would you chose to take your virginity?”

you froze in place. so did sully. and so did each of the boys.

“yuna.” sully said through a warning tone. she can’t believe yuna outed you like that.

you swallowed, fighting off tears. it wasn’t like you were ashamed or embarrassed to be a virgin, but it’s not something you’d really want to advertise, especially in front of your crush.

you told yuna with your crush being jay, you wouldn’t mind he be the one to take your virginity. you knew he was a nice guy.

but you didn’t know if he had sex with virgins. or even would be interested in you that way.

“i need to pee.” you quickly stood up, running to the bathroom down the hall.

“not cool yuna!” sully snapped.

yuna shrugged. “i was sick of her beating around the bush. if i didn’t do anything she sure wouldn’t have.”

“well you didn’t have to out her like that.” sully pushed yuna’s shoulder. “go apologize, now.”

yuna looked at the boys who were quiet and felt awkward.

“maybe we should end the night. we have 2 more nights here to enjoy it.” sunghoon said standing up with a stretch.

the boys turned in for the night, and the girls went to the bedroom. yuna knocked softly on the bathroom door hearing you sob quietly.

“i’m really sorry.” yuna apologized.

you knew you would soon forgive her. yuna wasn’t a bad person, she just had a strong extroverted personality compared to you. sometimes yuna forgot you weren’t all about putting your business out there or being forward.

you soon came out the bathroom, giving your friend a hug, sully joining in.

“i’m sorry, i really am. it’s just,” yuna sighed, “i saw you weren’t going to make a move! at least now jay is intrigued.”

you looked at yuna like she had two heads. “how do you know that?”

“you’re a virgin, with a crush on one of the boys, and never answered that question or who you would choose to take your virginity.” yuna explained. “jay is romantic and polite, but he’s still a man.”

sully snapped her fingers. “i did see him sneaking glances at you.” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“no need to make me feel better.”

“we’re telling the truth!” yuna said. “trust me on this.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

around 2 am, you awoke freezing cold. of course you slept on the end, yuna and sully hogging the covers.

you got up quietly, walking towards the kitchen down the hall. you quickly made a cup of hot chocolate. while doing so, you noticed from outside, the snow falling heavily from the sky.

walking to the window, you stared up at the sky in awe at the gorgeous sight.

“pretty outside, huh?”

a voice startled you. turning around, you noticed it was jay, dressed in his pajamas.

you nodded to his question. “yeah, very pretty.”

he came up beside you, you turned back around to look out the window with him. “good thing we brought enough food to last us a couple days.”

“yeah.” you agreed softly. a cold chill ran over you, causing you to shiver.

“cold?”

you nodded. “sully and yuna are cover hoggers.” you laughed.

“i see you’re making hot chocolate. mind making me a cup? i’ll put more wood in the fireplace.”

you nodded walking back to the kitchen. jay put more firewood in the fireplace to get it warmed up, grabbing the extra blankets and pillows from the couch and setting them comfortably on the floor.

you brought jay a cup of hot chocolate, handing it to him, then sat down next to him, immediately enjoying the heat of the fireplace.

you both sat in quiet, enjoying the crackle of the fire, the quiet snow falling outside.

jay sighed deeply. “i, uh,”

you looked over at him, shocked he seemed nervous. you always thought he was cool and confident. the glow of the fire looked good against his honey skin, as his hands wrapped tightly around his cup.

“mhm?” you tilted your head, sipping the hot chocolate.

jay laughed nervously. “please don’t be offended.” he looked at you.

“i won’t.” you stated.

“i just—are you really a virgin?”

you sighed and nodded. “that i am.” you chuckled. “yuna didn’t lie.”

jay stayed quiet for a moment, calculating his next move. he didn’t want to scare you off or come off too strong.

“why?” you asked instead.

“mhm?” jay hummed, raising his eyebrow, sipping his hot chocolate.

“why did you ask if i was really a virgin?” you whispered out.

could yuna and sully be right?

jay scratched his eyebrow, then the back of his head. “it’s just, i don’t like questions left unanswered.”

“oh don’t i know it!” you chuckled. “remember senior year in high school? mr. youngin for once didn’t have the answer to a complex question and it drove you crazy?”

jay laughed remembering. “yeah.” he cleared his throat. “so i was wondering, um, actually, jake, sunghoon, and i were all wondering,”

you liked this side of jay, a stuttering mess. you bit your lower lip, fighting back a chuckle of amusement.

jay breathed through his nose, cursing himself for acting like such a loser right now. “so um, the first question, who in the room did you or do you have a crush on? and, uh, secondly, who would you choose to you know?”

you laughed, “no, i don’t know.”

where did this string of confidence come from? was it because jay seemed less intimidating than he does in the classroom? in an academic setting?

jay looked up at the ceiling, then back down to you. “who do you have a crush on and who do you want to take your virginity?” jay mumbled out quickly. “and please answer. please don’t leave me hanging.”

“why jay?” you asked seriously. “would you be disappointed if i said jake or sunghoon?”

“no, not disappointed. just, upset and jealous.”

you set your mug down next to you, grabbing jay’s chin between your thumb and index finger, making him look at you.

“it’s you dummy.” you laughed and kissed his lips softly, you both tasting like chocolate.

when you pulled away, jay almost looked like a giddy teenage boy. “me?” he whispered and you nodded.

“since second year of high school.” you confessed. “i’ve had a crush on you since then, jay.”

jay smiled confessing his own feelings. he hasn’t liked you as long as you’ve liked him, but he’s had a crush on you for the past two years, always afraid to make a move.

“yuna would punch us both.” you poked fun at.

jay had set aside his mug as well, leaning in to kiss your lips again. “do you want me to?” he asked against your lips.

“here? now?” you leaned away briefly, to look around the living room.

“i mean yeah. at least it’d be somewhere other than a bedroom.” he joked, but then cleared his throat, “but if you want to, we can go to my room.”

you’re starting to think yuna set this up in beginning—especially jay getting his own room.

“well it is kind of romantic to get my cherry popped by a fireplace.” you smiled.

jay smiled too, and leaned back in to kiss you softly. “i’ll be gentle, okay?”

you nodded against his lips, as he began to ease you down on the blankets that covered the floor. jay was careful to not bare all his weight on you, as his right hand ran up and down lengths of your side, goosebumps riding against your skin.

you then got shy. “uh don’t worry about going down on me or anything.”

jay looked at you like you’ve lost your mind. “i gotta get you turned on and wet for me.” he caressed your cheek.

you smiled shyly, “no need to worry about that. honestly been that way since you walked in the room.”

jay chuckled, “if you don’t want me to, i won’t, but i don’t mind it at all.”

“maybe another time? i—i just want my first time to be over. then you can take it slow if you want me a second time.”

“if? oh cherry, i will definitely want you a second time and more.” jay kissed roughly against your lips, appalled you’d even say something like that.

jay began to tuck his hand in your pajama bottoms and pull those, along with your underwear, down your legs as far as possible without breaking the kiss, then he did the same to his own bottoms.

“are you okay with no full nudity? still rather not have our friends get a full show.”

you nodded with a laugh. “yeah. let’s just be horny impatient teenagers.”

“i can do that. i—don’t have condoms, but i know jake does—,”

“absolutely do not wake him up!” you whispered. “how’s your pull out game?”

“well i’ve always used a condom—,”

“well tonight we can test it, if you’re okay with that?” you asked and jay nodded.

“yeah.” he answered softly. “just let me know when to stop if it hurts too much, okay?”

jay looked in your eyes, completely serious. you verbally told him you understood.

resting his forehead against yours, heavy breathing between you two, your face skewed, mouth slowly opening as jay push forward.

his dick meeting the tightness and resistance of you. you let out quiet gasps, as he slowly pushed in his tip, then inch by inch.

jay wasn’t lengthy, but he was thick.

your eyes snapped shut, your hands gripping jays shoulders, thankfully his skin protected by his shirt. a low moan of pain escaped your lips, mixed with a gasp as jay finished settling inside you.

he brought his lips down to meet yours for a rough, passionate kiss, almost as if he never wanted to stop kissing you.

jay used his tongue to distract you from your lower half and the stinging of it. he was still, dick settled into your cunt, which was pooling with wetness around him.

you didn’t even know you could get that wet.

just making out, while nestled inside you, when he felt you were distracted enough, jay pulled back slowly to push back even slower.

by accident you bit his lip. “fuck.” your head leaned back against the blanket, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

jay grabbed a pillow to place under your lower back for better leverage and for you to be more comfortable.

he sat up on his knees, your legs resting apart, enough for jay to rest in between them.

he pulled back out and began a slow thrusting pace, watching your facial expressions for any sign of extreme discomfort.

for the most part, you let out low pitched moans, and bit your lip. jays own mouth began to let out a few moans of his own, making sure to be quiet enough that only you could hear him.

other than the cackle of the fireplace and quiet sounds from you two, anytime jay pushed deeply into, your wet cunt made noise against his dick, it slicking down your behind, his balls slapping against your skin.

thankfully your friends were heavy sleepers for the most part.

jay leaned down for a different angle, his forearms resting on each side of your head, as his thrusts picked up in pace, the stinging pain still in place, but mixed with pleasure.

“fa-faster.” you grumbled against jays lips, and with no protest or hesitation, jay picked up this pace of his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping getting louder, but you both ignored it.

your friends being able to potentially hear be damned. they’re always in your sex lives anyway.

jay thought you felt heavenly, and was for sure hoping for a second time, third time, as many times as he could, with you. he would definitely love to explore his sexual interests with you in different places.

he never had any interest in having sex with someone in someplace other than a bed, but with you, he can imagine taking you against the kitchen counter, a couch, in his car, against a fucking desk in an empty classroom.

the thought only excites him more, and when he heard the squelch of your cunt, he was done for.

“shit, im gonna come.” jay whispered out, leaning his hand down between the both of you to stimulate your clit.

you’ve never experienced an orgasm in your life, so you had no idea what they felt like. all you could feel was your bottom half starting to become overly sensitive, your legs shaking, and wanting jay to stop because you felt like crying.

“jay—it all feels like too much.” you cried against his shoulder. “i—i can’t take anymore, please.”

jay with a proud smile, kissed your forehead, quickly pulling out, lifting your shirt up to come on your stomach. in the belly piercing he finds so damn attractive. his come perfectly landed there, dripping down to meet your cunt.

“sorry—should’ve asked where you wanted me to come.” jay sighed in content and out of breath.

you laughed out of breath yourself. “s’fine.”

jay took off your bottoms completely, but pulled his up. he covered you with the extra blanket.

“mhm, wanna take a bath or shower?”

“why? want me in there too?” you joked.

“of course. but you’ll start to ache soon, shower sex can wait for now.”

you nodded tiredly. “can i sleep with you?” you yawned.

“of course cherry.”

“mhm, cherry?”

“my new nickname for you.” jay kissed your cheek.

thank you yuna!

[lvnleah]

when three becomes four.

we have another baby Williamson! 🥹

find the series masterlist here!

July 2028 | 4 years old. 

“Alright! A bowl of popcorn for you, bubba,” Leah smiled as she came into the living, two bowls of popcorn in her arms. “And a bowl for me and Mummy!”

“Thank you, Mumma!” Finley smiled and cuddled into your side as Leah handed him a bowl of popcorn. 

You ran your hand over your swollen stomach that Finley was currently resting his head on, “Oh thank you, love! Baby girl is going to love this.”

“Anything for my loves,” Leah said, plopping down on the sofa on the other side of Finley. “What film should we watch, bubba?”

“Erm…” Finley began, scrunching his little face in concentration as he thought. “Toy Story 3!” he declared confidently, glancing up at you with his blue eyes. 

You smiled softly, placing a hand on Finley’s curls. “That sounds perfect.”

Leah chuckled as she grabbed the remote. “Toy Story it is then. Great choice, bubba.” She leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head before turning her attention to the TV. The opening credits started rolling, and the familiar tune filled the room, bringing an instant sense of comfort.

Finley snuggled closer to your bump. You were currently 36 weeks pregnant and due in mid-August. You and Leah had decided to start IVF for baby number two right after Finley had turned three. 

You still had embryos left over from when you had your transfer with Finley so the process was easier than last time. It was agreed you would carry the baby after a lot of thought. You were anxious about being pregnant again because of how bad your pregnancy with Finley was but you knew no two pregnancies were the same. 

The first transfer was scheduled for early August and unfortunately, that transfer didn’t work. You and Leah were both heartbroken, convinced that it was going to work the first time like it did with Finley. After a lot of tears and days spent in bed, you agreed to try again in November. 

The two-week wait came with a lot of anxiety. You were both anxious that it wasn’t going to work and that you’d have to try again which you didn’t want to do. Two weeks before Christmas you took your first test, it was a very strong positive after you had delayed taking the tests for a few days. 

You and Leah couldn’t believe that it worked and were excited to become parents again. The first few months were filled with uncertainty and worry. The first few weeks were filled with morning sickness but nothing compared to how it was with Finley. 

As the weeks passed, your pregnancy progressed smoothly, much to your relief. The regular check-ups and scans were reassuring, and the anticipation of welcoming your baby girl in mid-August grew stronger. 

Finley’s excitement about becoming a big brother was always evident. He often talked about all the things he would do with his new sibling and made sure everyone knew that he was going to be a big brother. You both made sure to involve him in preparations for the baby, taking him to scans which he loved doing. 

Finley wiggled a bit, getting more comfortable against your belly. “When baby comes, I’ll show her all my toys! Do you think she’ll like Buzz Lightyear? Or Woody?”

You exchanged a knowing glance with Leah, both of you trying not to get too emotional at his sweetness. “I think she’ll love whatever you show her, sweetheart. She’s going to be so lucky to have you as her big brother.”

Leah nodded in agreement. “You’re going to teach her all the best things, aren’t you buddy?”

Finley nodded excitedly, “Yeah! I teach her to be a little Gooner, just like I am!”

“That’s it, bubba!” Leah smiled, high-fiving him, “We aren’t gonna let Uncle Jacob turn her into a stinky spurs supporter are we?”

“No way!” Finley shook his head in disgust, “Gonner all the way.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “You’ve got him brainwashed.”

Leah shrugged, “What can I say, he supports the best team in North London. He’s a clever boy.”

Finley’s hand instinctively rested on your belly again. You could feel your baby girl shifting slightly beneath his touch, a giggle escaping him as she kicked against his hand. 

As the movie continued, Finley’s energy started to fade. His popcorn bowl sat half-eaten on his lap, and his eyelids drooped as he fought to stay awake. By the time the movie was halfway through, Finley was fast asleep, his head still resting on your bump. 

Leah smiled, brushing a few stray curls from his forehead. “He’s so excited to be a big brother.”

You nodded, feeling a wave of emotion wash over you. “He really is. I just hope the transition is smooth for him.”

Leah leaned over and placed a kiss on your temple. “He’ll be fine, he’ll be the best big brother ever. He loves his baby sister already.”

For a while, you both sat in the quiet comfort of the moment, the soft sounds of the movie playing in the background, and Finley’s steady breathing filling the space between you. It was one of those rare moments where everything felt perfectly still like time itself had paused to let you savour the simplicity of this life you had built together.

As the movie ended and the credits rolled, Leah carefully scooped Finley into her arms, cradling him against her chest. “I’ll put him to bed,” she whispered.

You nodded, watching her carry him down the hall, a smile tugging at your lips. When she came back she laid down beside your bump, now getting her own time with her baby girl.

“Hi baby peanut,” Leah smiled as she placed a kiss on your bump, “we’re so excited to meet you, Bubba. I think your brother is the most excited out of us all.”

You smiled, your hand playing with Leah’s hair, “He’s dying to meet her, I can’t believe he won’t be our only baby anymore.”

“It’ll feel weird having two kids after just having Finley for four years. It'll be fun,” Leah said, “Won’t it, baby peanut?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Two weeks later, at 38 weeks pregnant, the day began as usual, though you had pains all morning. You had decided not to worry too much, thinking they were just Braxton Hicks, and so you proceeded with your plan for the day. After dropping Finley off at Amanda’s for the day, you headed out for a relaxing date day with Leah.

You both enjoyed a quiet brunch at your favourite café, soaking in the peaceful time together before the baby arrived. Leah had her hand on your belly most of the time, and now and then, the baby gave her a little kick in response, making you both smile. 

You took a bite of your pastry, but suddenly paused, your hand instinctively moving to your belly as a contraction rolled through. You let out a slow breath, trying to play it off like it was nothing.

Leah immediately noticed. “Are you okay, pretty girl? That looked like more than just the usual Braxton Hicks.”

You smiled, trying to downplay the discomfort. “I’m fine. I’ve been having them on and off all morning. It’s nothing serious.”

Leah raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Hmm, I don’t know. They seem more frequent today. Are you sure it’s not early labour?”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “We’ve still got a couple of weeks. It’s just my body getting ready.”

Leah smiled, rubbing small circles over your belly. “Well, tell baby girl to take it easy on you, yeah? We’re trying to enjoy our last date before she gets here.”

Just as you started to respond, another contraction hit, and this time it made you pause, gripping the edge of the table for a moment. You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, trying to stay calm.

Leah’s eyes widened, her concern growing. “Babe… that one looked pretty intense. Maybe we should head home, just to be safe. I don’t want to be sitting here when it actually starts.”

You shook your head again, but this time your tone was more serious. “It’s okay, Leah, really. They’re not that close together yet. Besides, we’ve been looking forward to this day all week. I don’t want to cut it short just because of a few contractions.”

Leah sighed, sitting back slightly but keeping her hand on your belly. “Alright, but I’m keeping an eye on you. You need to tell me if it gets worse. I’m serious.”

You smiled, reaching over to give her a kiss. “I promise. You’ll be the first to know.”

Leah smiled against your lips. “Good. Because I’m not letting you give birth in a café.”

You both laughed, the tension easing a little as the contraction faded. Leah leaned forward again, her hand still resting protectively on your belly. “But seriously, it’s crazy that we’re so close to meeting her. Any day now.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of emotion. “I know. I can’t believe it’s happening so soon. I feel like we were just doing this with Finley.”

Leah’s face softened. “Finley’s so excited.”

“He really is,” you agreed. “I can’t wait to see him as a big brother. He’s going to be amazing.”

Leah smiled, her eyes bright with excitement. “And you, pretty girl, are amazing too. You’re handling this so well, even with the contractions starting up. I mean, look at you, still eating your croissant like a champ.”

You laughed, taking another bite. “A girl’s gotta eat, right?”

Leah chuckled. “Just promise me that if they start getting more intense, we head home. I know you want to stay, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

You nodded, appreciating her concern. “I promise. If it gets too much, we’ll go. But for now, let’s just enjoy this time together.”

Leah smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Deal. Now, what do you want to do after this? Walk in the park? Or maybe head to that bookstore you love?”

“I like the sound of the park,” you said, your hand subconsciously rubbing your belly. “Fresh air might help with these contractions.”

Leah gave you a knowing smile, but didn’t push the matter further. “Alright, the park it is. Let’s make the most of this date while we still can.”

You had a walk around the park, stopping every so often because of your contractions before heading to pick Finley up.

“Le, can we stop for a moment,” you breathed as you walked down Amanda’s path, “Another…contraction.”

Leah instantly turned towards you, concern filling her eyes. “Of course, pretty girl. Here, lean on me.” She wrapped an arm around your waist, supporting you as you focused on breathing through the contraction. 

The pain intensified for a moment, and you clenched your jaw, gripping her arm as you tilted your head back. Leah rubbed soothing circles on your back, murmuring softly, “You’re doing so good, love. Just breathe through it.”

After a few moments, the contraction subsided, and you let out a deep breath, standing a little straighter. “Okay. That one was a bit stronger,” you admitted, trying to smile through the discomfort. 

Leah gave you a soft, worried look. “We might need to rethink this whole ‘it's just Braxton Hicks’ theory. These are getting stronger.”

Before you could respond, the front door of Amanda’s house opened, and there stood Amanda, Leah’s mum, a knowing smile on her face. She quickly scanned the scene—your hands resting on your belly, the way Leah was supporting you, and the tension still evident on your face.

“Amanda,” you said, trying to sound casual, “I think baby girl might be coming soon.”

Amanda raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Might be? From the looks of it, darling, she’s not wasting any time.” She gave Leah a pointed glance. “You two need to head home or to the hospital, not my driveway.”

Leah nodded, looking more convinced by the second. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.”

Amanda placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Finley will be fine with me, I have all of his stuff already. You need to head to the hospital.”

Another contraction started to build, and Leah gently helped you sit on the edge of the bench outside of Amanda’s. “I really think it’s time, love,” she said softly. “Let’s say bye to Finley, and we can call the midwife on the way there.”

You nodded, finally starting to accept that this might really be the beginning of labour. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s head to the hospital.”

A few minutes later, Amanda emerged with Finley. Finley ran up to you with his typical boundless energy. 

“Is baby sister coming?” he asked, his big blue eyes filled with curiosity and excitement.

You smiled, reaching out to gently ruffle his hair. “It looks like she might be, Finn. You be good for Nana yeah?”

Finley nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I promise, Nana Finley sleepover!”

Leah chuckled, picking him up and balancing him on her hip. “We know you will, buddy. You’re going to be the best big brother.”

Amanda gave you a warm hug. “Call me if you need anything. Now go bring that baby into the world," Amanda smiled warmly. "Finley will be just fine here with me."

As you and Leah finally decided to make your way to the hospital, the excitement and anticipation started to settle in. Leah helped you into the car, buckling you in gently as you focused on breathing through another contraction. The ride was a blur of adrenaline and tenderness, Leah’s hand never leaving your thigh as she drove, calling the midwife to let her know what was happening.

“We’ll be there soon, pretty girl. Just keep breathing,” Leah reassured you, her voice calm despite the growing intensity of the moment.

The hospital was ready for your arrival, and as you were checked in, the midwife confirmed that you were in active labour. Your baby girl was on her way. Time seemed to pass in waves—some moments felt slow and agonising, while others moved too fast, but through it all, Leah never left your side.

You were six centimetres when you arrived and you took the epidural as soon as you could. You managed to nap for a bit and when you woke up again it was time for the midwife to check you again. 

“You’ll be happy to know you’re at ten centimetres,” She smiled as she took off her gloves and threw them into the bin. “I’ll go get my colleagues and you can start pushing. Almost time to meet your baby girl!” 

Leah squeezed your hand, her eyes wide with excitement and a hint of nervousness. “Did you hear that, pretty girl? It’s time. We’re going to meet our girl soon.”

You nodded, a wave of emotion rushing over you. The months of anticipation, the moments of uncertainty, and now you were here, ready to bring your daughter into the world. The room buzzed with activity as the midwives prepared, but all you could focus on was Leah, her steady hand in yours, and the fact that you were going to meet your baby girl soon 

The midwife returned, this time with more nurses and doctors, and they all smiled reassuringly. “Alright, darling, when the next contraction comes, we’ll start pushing. You’re doing great.”

You looked at Leah, taking a deep breath. “We’re ready for this, right?”

Leah kissed your forehead, “We are so ready. You’re going to do amazing, just like with Finley.”

As the contraction began, you bore down, gripping Leah’s hand tightly. Time seemed to blur again, each push bringing you closer to meeting your daughter. Leah’s encouragement never stopped, her voice a distraction from the pain and effort.

“You’re almost there,” the midwife said, her tone filled with excitement. “One more big push.”

With every ounce of strength left in you, you gave one final push, and then, the room was filled with the sound of your baby’s first cry. Tears welled in your eyes as the midwife lifted your daughter, placing her on your chest.

“She’s here,” Leah whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she leaned in to kiss you. “Our little girl.”

You looked down at the tiny, baby girl on your chest. She was much smaller than Finley was and had a large set of lungs on her from the sound of the cry that she produced. You couldn’t believe she was finally here.

“She’s perfect,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her soft head as Leah wrapped an arm around both of you. “I can’t believe it. She’s actually here.”

Leah looked down at your daughter, her eyes brimming with happy tears. “She’s more than perfect. You did it, pretty girl. You did it. Oh my gosh, she looks so much like Finley!”

The midwives busied themselves with cleaning up and checking on the baby, but for that moment, it was just the three of you, cocooned in a bubble of pure joy. Your family had grown, and soon, Finley would meet his baby sister, the little girl he’d been so excited to love and protect.

And just like that, your family was complete for now. Eloise had completed your family. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The first night with baby Eloise, or Ellie as you’d nicknamed her, went smoothly. You both knew what to expect so you both found the night feeds fairly easy. 

As the soft light of the morning sun filled the hospital room, you stirred to the sound of tiny cries from Ellie’s bassinet. Leah was still half-asleep beside you, but her eyes fluttered open at the same sound.

“Morning, love,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep as she sat up to check on Ellie. “Looks like someone’s hungry.”

You nodded, gently pulling yourself up and reaching for your baby girl. She was so tiny in your arms, her little face scrunched up as she made soft noises. Leah watched with a smile as you settled Ellie to feed her, her tiny hands clutching at your skin.

“She’s so beautiful,” Leah whispered, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you settled into her side. “It still doesn’t feel real. We’re parents of two now.”

You laughed softly, “I know. I keep looking at her and just thinking, ‘she’s ours’ she actually belongs to us, Le.”

A knock at the door interrupted your moment, and a nurse stepped in with a warm smile. “Good morning, mamas. How are you feeling today? And how’s baby girl doing?”

“We’re good,” Leah replied, glancing down at you and Ellie. “She’s feeding really well, and so far, it’s been a smooth night.”

The nurse nodded approvingly. “That’s great to hear. We’ll do another check on her in a bit, but you both seem to be settling in wonderfully. Do you need anything right now? Some breakfast, maybe?”

You smiled. “Breakfast would be amazing, thank you.”

As the nurse left, Leah leaned over and kissed your temple. “I’ll text Mum and let her know she can bring Finley by in a couple of hours. He’s going to be over the moon when he meets Ellie.”

The thought of Finley meeting his baby sister made your heart race with excitement. He had been talking nonstop about his baby sister. You could already picture his wide eyes and the way he would gently touch her tiny hands, just like he did with your belly.

A couple of hours later, after you both had eaten and Ellie had been checked over by the doctors, the door to your room swung open, and in rushed Finley, his little feet pattering excitedly on the floor.

“Mummy! Mumma!” he called out, his eyes wide with anticipation as Amanda trailed behind him. “I missed ‘ou! Baby sissy here?”

Leah crouched down, holding her arms out to him. “She’s here, bubba! Do you want to meet your baby sister?”

Finley nodded eagerly, his curls bouncing as he ran to Leah, who lifted him up and carried him over to the bed where you and Ellie were waiting. His little face lit up the moment he saw her.

“She’s so tiny!” he whispered, his voice full of awe as he gazed at his new sister, who was bundled up and sleeping peacefully.

You smiled, holding Ellie close as Finley leaned in for a closer look. “This is your baby sister, Ellie,” you said softly. “You want to say hi?”

Finley reached out gently, his little hand brushing against Ellie’s tiny fist. “Hi, Ellie,” he whispered. “I’m your big brother, Finley!”

Leah grinned, her eyes misty with tears as she stood beside you. “She’s so lucky to have you, bubba.”

Finley looked up at you both, “I love her! She’s so cute and tiny!”

”Oh she’s absolutely gorgeous,” Amanda whispered, “Doesn’t she look Finley?”

“She does,” Leah smiled, “Do you want to know her full name?” Leah asked, getting a nod from Amanda, “Her name is Eloise Amanda Williamson but we’re calling her Ellie for short.”

Amanda's eyes welled with tears as she heard her name, a soft gasp escaping her lips. "Eloise Amanda… that’s such a beautiful name. I’m honoured." 

Leah gave her a warm smile, wrapping an arm around her. "We wanted to honour you, Mum. You’ve been there for us every step of the way."

Finley continued to look down at his baby sister, mesmerised by her every little movement. "Can I hold her, Mummy?" he asked. 

You smiled, glancing at Leah, who nodded. "Of course you can, Fin. Let’s get you set up," Leah said softly, guiding him to sit beside you on the bed. She gently helped him cradle Ellie in his arms, her tiny head resting against his chest.

Finley’s face lit up with a smile as he held his little sister, his small hands carefully supporting her. "She’s so little, Mummy," he whispered.

You smiled, your heart swelling as you watched the two of them together. "She is, but she’ll grow big and strong just like you!”

Leah sat beside you, her hand resting on your thigh, her gaze never leaving Finley and Ellie. "We’ve got our two little loves, right here," she said quietly, her voice filled with emotion.

And with that, the next chapter of your life as a family of four officially began.

[judysxnd]

Baby who ?

Pedro pascal x reader

I had this in my drafts for a very long time (like the rest of my writings). But it kinda happened when I was online shopping, I said Baby Yoda and I surprised myself and it gave me this idea 😂

It’s just a little something, nothing big (or good) but there ya go 🤷🏻‍♀️

I'm finally publishing something again. I mean this was written a long time ago and only needed some editing.

Also, as Christmas is getting closer, my job is going to get even tougher and I might even get less time for me but I'm determined to write again. I miss it too much! And I've received some requests again, so I'm going to try my best. Thank you 🫶🏼

—————————————————————————

Today was a stay-at-home day. I mean, it’s Sunday, there isn’t much to do. It was also Pedro’s day off, so you did want to spend the most of it with him. But neither of you had the energy to actually do something, like go hiking, doing some chores or something else, so you just chilled the entire day.

Stayed in bed until 11am, a late breakfast for lunch, staying on the couch with some tv show in the background, but really you’re just talking and catching up on what’s going on since Pedro was away for some time.

At some point you had brought your computer after needing to make a quick search on internet to prove a point (and unfortunately he was right), you ended up looking through some clothes and stuff. Why not do some online shopping? But you didn’t really like anything, so you were just looking and casually judging some seriously weird stuff. At least you were both enjoying yourselves while not really doing anything.

“Oh look at the socks!” You said as you saw Grogu on some pair of socks. It immediately made Pedro turned his head, having a big smile after what he saw

“They are so cute!”

“Oh, wait” you scrolled a bit further “there are also shows with baby yoda on it!” You immediately realized what you just said, and as you felt Pedro freeze, you slowly turned your head, trying not to laugh. He was shocked, his big brown eyes looking straight at you. “Shit- sorry, grogu!”

You looked at each other for a few seconds but neither of could contain their laugh.

“You’re lucky” Pedro said looking at you then at your screen

“Or what?” You teased. He arched an eyebrow

“Or I would bring you in warm or I would bring you in cold” he said with his mandalorian voice. You were speechless, and not in a bad way.

“Look who’s teasing now” you kept going, which Pedro just laughed at. “liking the voice very much right now” you whispered

“Wh-what was that?” Pedro leaned

“Hm?”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing” you stared at each other again, and just laughed “hm”

“I won’t repeat it, so if you heard it, good for you, if you didn’t, well.. it’s too bad” you shrugged

“I swear” he laughed

And that's how it became a game between the two of you. But for real.. He did bring you in warm many many times.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

18+ MINORS DNI FOR IMPLIED SMUT AND NUDITY

Steve had spent so much time leaving the bathroom door open when he went to take a shower that he didn't think anything of it. He was alone. Who would care? He had forgotten briefly that Eddie was staying with him until things cleared up. Meanwhile, Eddie was walking up the stairs to ask Steve a question when he heard running water and saw the bathroom door wide open. Eddie saw Steve approach the shower, and he opened his mouth to say something when Steve dropped his boxers, giving Eddie a full view of everything as he stepped into the shower.

"Oh, fuck. . .does he want me to join. . .maybe he just likes a show," Eddie muttered. "A show. . .a show. . ."

Steve stepped out of the shower moments later and grabbed a towel. He stopped when he heard someone whistle. Steve turned to the doorway to find Eddie sitting in a chair and eating a bowl of popcorn.

"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed and quickly covered himself up with a towel.

"Oh, don't cover up on my account. . .big boy," Eddie winked as he ate a piece of popcorn.

"What the hell are you doing?" Steve asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought this was all for my benefit," Eddie said. "You left the door open."

"If this was for your benefit, I would have asked you to join me," Steve said.

"Yeah?" Eddie asked.

"But I didn't," Steve said and paused. "I didn't want you to think you had to. . ."

"Oh, I would have definitely wanted you to ask," Eddie said.

"If I reach into that popcorn bucket, I'm not going to find a hole in the bottom of it, am I?" Steve asked.

"Damn it," Eddie swore. "I didn't think of that."

Steve smiled and walked over to him, swiping a handful of kernels. They stared at each other, Eddie watching every movement that Steve made. . .his eyes growing dark as Steve slowly swallowed. Eddie grasped the towel around his waist.

"What are you doing, Eddie?" He asked.

"Thanking you for letting me stay here. . ."

"Eddie."

"I want to."

Steve let him yank off the towel. Eddie set the popcorn on the floor and tossed the towel aside, sinking to his knees. . .

[butlervibesonly]

𝐴𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛'𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝑓𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 || Austin Butler

• Summary : Y/n and Austin are invited to birthday party of one of his friend's baby, and who would have thought Austin will catch a huge baby fever by watching his love Y/n play with kids?

• Pairing : Austin Butler x female! reader

• Warnings : fluff, if we count baby fever?

• Note : I don't know much about Austin's friends so the one mentioned in this fic is all made up by me!! As I respect their privacy or don't want to spread misinformations this is all FICTION! (name is mentioned by ★ if there is a friend named by the same name I choose it's complete coincidence)

You absolutely love any kind of gatherings, whether it's family gathering, or simple friend gathering, but you never knew how much you adored birthday gathering until today.

Austin and you are invited to the birthday party of his friend's daughter, who is already one year old. Time flies so fast – when she was born you rarely saw each other because of your or Austin's busy schedule, but neither you or Austin would miss her 1st birthday.

You and Austin arrived at James' (★) place seeing everyone already being in the garden. The garden is a colorful explosion of pastel balloons, streamers, and an adorable banner that read "Happy birthday, Lily!". You couldn't help but gasp at the beautiful decorations. "I can't believe she's already one year old!" you smile at Austin who smiles back at you, leaving his hand on your back.

"Look who it is!" James pulls both of you in hug. "Hey, buddy!" Austin pats his back, all happy that he sees him. "Nice to see you again, Lily is looking forward to see you!" James smiled.

Your eyes immediately landed on Lily, perched in a playpen and clothed in a tiny pink dress. "Oh my gosh," you whisper, clutching Austin's arm. "She’s so tiny and cute! Look at her little cheeks!" James picks up Lily from playpen.

"We have some gift for birthday girl." Austin smiles, handing Lily a cute stuffed bear. Lily makes some cute noises, grabbing it from Austin. "Thanks, guys. Y/n, do you want to hold her?" James asks.

Without hesitation, you approach James, holding out your hands to Lily. Lily stares at you with big, curious eyes before offering a toothless grin that totally melts you heart on the spot. "Hi, birthday girl! Aren't you just the sweetest?"

Lily seems to agree, because she reaches out, wiggling her chubby little fingers, grabbing your face. You immediately tighten your arms around her, carefully holding her.

"Well, she might not let you go now," James teases, and Austin chuckles.

"I wouldn’t mind," you reply with a laugh, gently bouncing Lily. She giggles and you can't help but cuddle that little girl. You play with her, 'talk with her' as she mumbles some sweet baby noise.

Austin is already sitting with others by the table, arms crossed, but he doesn't pay attention to them – he watches you with a smile that grows wider by every second. There is something about the way you interact with Lily— your gentle touches, the way you talk to her as if she is the only thing that matters. It is adorable, heartwarming, and undeniably stirring something deep inside him.

For a moment, it's almost as if Austin shifts into future, imagining you with your own baby. Something he can't deny is the fact that you'll be an amazing mom to his kids one day. He actually can't wait to start a little family on his own.

"You’re staring, man," James teases, sidling up beside him.

"Can you blame me?" Austin replies, his voice soft. James smirkes knowingly. "That look on your face says one thing and one thing only—baby fever."

Austin scoffs, though his cheeks flushes. "I’m just admiring how great she is with kids, y'know," he tries to hide his true baby fever. "The way she can handle stuff, make Lily laugh..."

"Sure you are," James nudges him. "You’re already picturing a little one of your own, aren’t you?"

Austin opens his mouth to retort, but the sight of you planting a playful kiss on Lily's forehead stopped him. The baby squealed, clapping her tiny hands, and you laughed.

"Alright, maybe a little," he admitts sheepishly. "Don’t worry, you’ve got my vote," James pats him on the back. Austin smiles again, watching the both of you again.

As you're finally free you sit down beside Austin, joining others. During the day Austin is quiet, mostly smiling softly watching you. He touches your hand, kissing you softly.

"What's going, Butler?" you ask, teasing him. A grin appears on his face, tucking a hair behind your ear. "Mmm.. nothing." he looks away, trying to avoid eye contact as he's clearly lying.

"Come on, I know you're lying, Aus,"

"You'll be a wonderful mom one day."

His words surprise you. You and Austin have barely spoken about starting a family, but that seems very different in this moment. "Austin Butler, is that a baby fever I see on you?"

"I guess." he kisses you passionately. There's no doubt you've chosen the best man to be dad of your kids.

[jaeyunluvbot]

a forest

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 vampire au, haechan x reader, lee donghyuck x reader, vampire!haechan x human!reader

word count 𝟅𝟈 19.9k

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You didn’t think you’d ever end up back here.

The worn "Welcome to Evergreen" sign on the edge of town had greeted you as you drove into your hometown for the first time in years. As you lugged another box up the narrow staircase of your parents’ house, the familiar creak of the third step reminded you just how little this place had changed.

Your room was the same, too. The soft pink walls you’d painted in middle school were still covered with faded posters of bands you barely remembered liking. The bed was smaller than you remembered, and the air smelled faintly of something stale and pine-scented cleaner.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” your mom called from downstairs. Her voice was teasing, but it carried a hint of relief, like she was secretly glad to have you back under her roof.

You dropped the box on the floor with a dull thud and sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead. “Yeah, me neither.”

“Well, I’m glad to have you back anyways,” she said, though her tone suggested she didn’t entirely believe you. She backed out of your room, sensing your bad mood, and closed the door behind her.

You sat on the edge of your bed, surveying the unpacked boxes that were currently making their home on your bedroom floor. Coming back after school wasn’t part of the plan. You’d pictured yourself thriving in a big city, with a fancy adult job and a bustling social life. Instead, you were here, in a town so small you could drive from one end to the other in ten minutes, working as a nurse practitioner at the local hospital while you figured out your next move.

A soft knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. Your dad stepped inside, holding a tray with a glass of iced tea and a sandwich. “Thought you could use a break,” he said, setting it down on your old desk.

“Thanks,” you murmured, picking up the glass.

He hesitated by the door, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how. “You know, it’s not so boring here. Things have been... interesting lately.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Interesting how?”

“Just... new faces in town,” he said vaguely. “You’ll see.”

Before you could press him for details, he gave you a small smile and disappeared down the hall.

You sighed again, staring out the window. The late afternoon sun bathed the neighborhood in golden light, but instead of feeling comforting, it only made you feel restless. Your dad’s words lingered in your mind.

New faces? In Evergreen? You didn’t need much to know that didn’t happen often.

Still, you brushed it off and grabbed the sandwich, forcing yourself to eat. Whatever “interesting” meant, it wasn’t your problem. Not yet, anyway.

You spent the rest of the afternoon trying to cram all your newly acquired belongings into your already cramped bedroom, you’d have to talk to your parents about moving some of your old stuff up to the attic, but for now, you’d have to make do.

The next morning, you decided to head into town. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice—your mom had politely hinted that the fridge was running low, and since you were “new in town,” the errand fell on you. You had scoffed at this, sure that the town hadn’t changed that much in the time you’d been gone, but agreed to go anyway, thinking it would be nice to get out of the house.

The main street looked the same as it always had, with its little shops and small cafes that seemed perpetually frozen in time. The little grocery store was exactly as you remembered: narrow aisles, dim lighting, and the faint scent of lemons and floor cleaner.

You pushed a cart lazily through the store, tossing in the essentials—milk, bread, a few fresh vegetables. It wasn’t exciting, but it was familiar, and for a moment, you felt yourself relax.

That was, until you saw them.

At first, you didn’t realize why they caught your attention. They were standing by the refrigerated section, talking quietly amongst themselves. Six guys, all around your age, dressed more stylishly than anyone in Evergreen ever bothered to be.

One of them leaned casually against the freezer door, his bleach-blond hair practically glowing under the fluorescent lights. Another was crouched down, peering at something on the bottom shelf, while the rest stood nearby, their conversation punctuated by soft laughter.

They didn’t look like they belonged here.

You slowed your cart, trying not to be obvious as you stared. They were all... ridiculously good-looking, in a way that made your brain momentarily short-circuit. It wasn’t just their features—it was the way they carried themselves, confident and magnetic. Like they knew they stood out but didn’t care.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Giselle standing behind the counter, a teasing grin on her face. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and she wore the store’s signature green apron, slightly crumpled as if she’d tugged it on in a rush.

“Giselle!” you exclaimed, your mood instantly lifting.

She came around the counter and pulled you into a quick hug. “It’s been way too long! What’s it been, like four years? You didn’t even come home for Christmas last year, traitor.”

“College, work, life,” you said with a shrug, though guilt tugged at you. “I know. I suck.”

“Yeah, you do,” she said, but her grin softened. “I missed you, though.”

“I missed you too.”

The two of you chatted for a while, catching up as she rang up a few customers. Giselle hadn’t left town after high school, choosing to attend the community college instead. She was still figuring out what she wanted to do with her life, but she seemed happy enough for now.

“So,” she said, leaning her elbows on the counter once the store emptied out again. “How’s it feel being back?”

“Honestly? Weird,” you admitted

. “I didn’t think I’d end up here again. But here I am.”

She nodded knowingly. “It’s not so bad anymore, a little more lively. And hey, at least you’ve got me to keep you sane.”

You laughed. “True.”

Giselle straightened up suddenly, her eyes narrowing as she looked past you. “Speaking of weird...”

You turned to see a group of six guys walking into the store. They didn’t look like they belonged in Evergreen at all—stylish clothes, perfectly tousled hair, and an aura that practically screamed big city.

They moved through the aisles in a loose cluster, talking quietly amongst themselves. One of them, a blond with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, caught your eye briefly before looking away.

“Who are they?” you asked Giselle under your breath.

“They moved here a few months ago,” she said, lowering her voice as well. “Renting that creepy old house on Maple Street. No one really knows much about them, though.”

“They’re... not from around here, obviously.”

“Obviously,” she echoed, her tone amused. “I mean, look at them. What are they even doing here?”

As if on cue, one of them—tall, dark-haired, and absurdly good-looking—glanced in your direction. His gaze lingered for a moment too long, and you quickly turned back to Giselle, feeling oddly self-conscious.

“They don’t even shop like normal people,” Giselle added with a smirk. “Last week, one of them came in and bought like, ten cartons of eggs and nothing else. Who does that?”

You stifled a laugh, though your curiosity about the group only deepened.

“Anyway,” Giselle said, straightening up as one of the guys approached the counter. “Better get your shopping done before they buy out the whole store.”

You nod and turn away from the counter, pushing your cart toward the produce section. But even as you tried to focus on picking out the best of the minimal options, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something about them was... off.

Back home, the afternoon sun filtered through the kitchen windows as you unpacked your haul, having snuck in a few of your favorite snacks, assuming your parents probably lived on old people food without you. The rhythmic sound of your mom chopping vegetables for dinner mixed with the low hum of the news playing in the background.

“Did you get everything we needed?” your mom asked, glancing up briefly.

“Yep, even remembered the oat milk you like,” you said, setting the carton into the fridge.

“Thanks, honey. It’s nice having you back, even if I know you’re probably itching to leave again.”

You smiled faintly, but your thoughts were elsewhere. The image of the group from the grocery store lingered in your mind—sharp features, cool demeanor, borderline inhuman beauty that almost made you uncomfortable.

“Hey, Mom,” you started, leaning against the counter. “Do you know anything about those guys who moved into the old house on Maple Street?”

Your mom paused mid-chop, pursing her lips slightly. “Oh, them. They’re quite the talk of the town, aren’t they?”

“I guess? I saw them at the store earlier. They definitely don’t seem like locals.”

“They’re not,” she confirmed. “Your dad and I talked about them when they first moved in. Apparently, they came from the city. No one really knows why they picked Evergreen, of all places.”

“Hmm,” you said noncommittally, though your curiosity only grew. “They don’t seem that bad though…” You say carefully, probing your mom for answers.

Your mom looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “They’re strangers in a small town. That alone makes people suspicious. And then there’s the fact that they’ve been keeping to themselves, never really talking to anyone. That’s not normal, Y/N. People who move to places like this usually want to blend in. Not act like they’re hiding something.”

You frowned, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “But they haven’t done anything wrong, right?”

“Not yet,” she replied, her voice curt. “But you know how this town is. We’ve seen it before. People move here with secrets, and the next thing you know, something bad happens.”

You let that sink in as your mom continued preparing dinner. Just then, your dad walked in, tossing his briefcase on the floor of the entryway as he removed his coat. He worked as the town’s lawyer, the only lawyer in Evergreen. He was the one people came to when they needed advice or representation, and with that, he got to hear a lot of the gossip that ran through the town.

“What are we talking about?” he asked, looking between you and your mom.

“Those new guys,” your mom said, her voice pensive. “Y/N saw them at the store. She was asking about them.”

Your dad sighed, taking a seat at the table. “Yeah, I’ve heard the gossip. They paid for the house in cash, a whole year upfront. Weird, right?”

“Seriously? That’s a little... suspicious, don’t you think?” you said, surprised at the amount of concern in your voice.

“They don’t talk to anyone,” your dad continued, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “They don’t seem to have any real connections in town, and nobody knows where they came from. That’s not normal. I’ve had some clients asking about them, too—people want to know who they really are. And I don’t like it when people start acting like this in a town like ours.”

You felt a chill run down your spine. Your dad wasn’t the type to get involved in small-town rumors, but when it came to newcomers—especially ones that paid cash for a house without a word about their past—he was taking note.

“Do you think they’re dangerous?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He met your gaze with a serious expression. “I don’t know. But something doesn’t add up. People like that don’t just show up in quiet places like this without a reason.”

You felt your stomach turn, a mixture of unease and curiosity gnawing at you. You hadn’t expected your parents to be so wary, but it made sense, considering your dad’s profession. He knew who was who in town, and he’d probably heard more than most.

“I don’t want you getting involved with them, okay?” Your mom’s voice brought you back to the present. “We don’t need more trouble around here.”

You nodded, swallowing the unease that had settled in your chest. “Yeah, of course.”

As you helped your mom set the table, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about those new arrivals. You had no idea what they were hiding, but you were starting to get the sense that your parents’ suspicions weren’t without reason.

As you slip into bed that night, the boys’ faces flash through your mind, each one the picture of beauty. All strikingly different looking, but with the same harsh look on their faces. They continued to haunt you until you fell asleep, alarm set for early the next morning, your first official day of work.

You woke up to the sound of the aforementioned alarm blaring in your ear, the sunlight barely streaming through the curtains as the sun was rising. You rubbed your eyes, taking in the familiar comfort of being back in your childhood room. It was strange, yet reassuring.

You made a quick breakfast, pulling on your scrubs, and heading out the door, feeling the weight of the day ahead. The thought of your first shift at the Evergreen Community Hospital made you both nervous and excited. The town was small, the hospital even smaller, and you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of cases you’d deal with. 

The drive to work was quick, your beat up car easily navigating the familiar roads that wound through the outskirts of Evergreen, lined with quaint houses and large swaths of farmland. The hospital sat at the edge of town, easily visible from the main road. It was nothing like the big hospitals you had imagined working at, but there was something reassuring about the comfort of small-town life, even if it was starting to feel a little stifling.

As you entered the hospital, you were greeted by the familiar faces of the nurses and doctors. Everyone seemed busy, but they offered you friendly smiles as you walked in, and you immediately fell into the easy routine of the hospital’s quiet rhythm. It was a far cry from your hectic days interning in a hospital in the city, close to your school.

After a brief orientation and introductions to your coworkers, you found yourself in the emergency room, helping patients with all sorts of complaints—mostly minor cuts, sprains, and routine checkups. But as the hours passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

It started with a patient—a middle-aged man who had come in with complaints of aching muscles and lightheadedness. As you examined him, you noticed surefire signs of blood loss, clammy skin, excessive sweating, and shortness of breath.

Frowning, you remove your hands from his body, turning to make note of his symptoms. When you finish charting his information, you turn back around to face the man. 

“Have you had any major incidents lately, or experienced significant blood loss?”

The man frowns, “Not that I know of, I think I’d notice if I was bleeding out.”

You shake your head, pursing your lips and glancing back over to the computer, “Well, whatever happened, you’re exhibiting symptoms of blood loss, I’d like to run a few more tests and have a doctor check you out.”

The man groans and asks how much longer he’ll be here, with you offering a small bit of comfort before the doctor enters the room.

The next few patients were similar. Blood loss beyond what should’ve been normal, cuts that healed unusually fast, and complaints that didn’t quite add up. It was unsettling, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. The night shift was getting busier, and there were patients waiting to be seen.

Around late evening, as you were taking a break in the break room, you found yourself scrolling through your phone. You had decided to check in with Giselle, who had been texting you all day. She had been asking how your first shift was going and if you had run into any “interesting people” at work. You smirked as you replied, telling her about the strange blood cases you had been seeing.

Just as you put your phone down, the hospital doors opened with a soft chime, and a group of people entered. You glanced up and immediately froze.

It was the strange group of men from the store. But this time, there was one more.

He didn’t stand out at first. At least not in the way you expected. He wasn’t as tall as the others, nor as imposing, but something about him made you pause. His hair was tousled, just the right amount of messy, like he’d tried to look casual but still came out effortlessly cool. His eyes—dark, yet somehow shimmering—caught yours the moment he walked through the door, and there was an unmistakable familiarity to the way he looked at you.

The moment your gazes locked, you felt your breath catch. He didn’t smile, but there was something in the way he stood, in the way he held himself—like he knew exactly what he was doing. The magnetic pull of his presence was almost suffocating. You couldn’t look away, and that unsettled you more than you’d care to admit.

He was different. While the other guys seemed to carry an almost intimidating aura, this one… he wasn’t threatening, but you felt oddly compelled. And it wasn’t just the way he looked at you—it was the way he seemed to slip into your mind, uninvited, like he had always been there. It was as though the moment he entered the room, the space had shifted.

You tried to focus, trying to ignore the way your pulse seemed to quicken when he casually glanced at you again, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The other members of the group, noticing the attention he was getting from you, didn’t seem fazed. But you could’ve sworn there was a flicker of amusement in their eyes.

You quickly looked away, pulling yourself together. It was just one of those things, you told yourself. He was attractive, sure, but that was it. There was no reason to dwell on it.

Still, as you walked back to your station, you couldn’t shake the feeling that his presence was different from the others. There was something familiar, yet foreign about him. Something about the way he moved, the way he stood in that room. It was like he was meant to be there… or maybe he was always meant to be there. And that thought unsettled you more than anything.

As the night went on, you found yourself picturing the strange man in your mind, feeling a sort of magnetic pull towards him, one you couldn’t seem to make sense of. It wasn’t like this with the other members of the group. No, with them, you simply felt a quiet curiosity, but with him there was an undeniable attraction that was tugging at something deep inside of you.

When your shift finally ended, you felt an odd mixture of relief and frustration. You tried not to think about the man who had inexplicably captured your attention, but as you walked out of the hospital doors into the cool night air, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering back to him. Why did he stand out so much?

It was as if something was drawing you toward him, but you didn’t know why—and you didn’t know if you wanted to find out.

You make the exhausting drive home and hop in the shower, hoping to wash away the confusion and strangeness of your day.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you do know that you’re not in your room anymore.

You’re standing outside, the moon high above, casting an eerie silver glow over a darkened street. The town feels different, the air thicker, heavier, as if it's holding its breath. You glance around, but everything’s too still, too quiet.

And then, you see him.

The guy from the hospital. The one who made you feel like you couldn’t breathe, the one you can’t stop thinking about. His back is turned to you, but the second you step forward, he turns around, as if he’s been waiting for you the entire time. You freeze, heart hammering in your chest. His eyes—dark, almost black—pierce through you with an intensity that makes you feel like you're standing in front of a flame. There's something... predatory in the way he watches you, like he’s a hunter, and you’re the prey.

"You're not supposed to be here," he says, and his voice is so smooth, it sends chills down your spine. It’s like he’s speaking directly into your soul, not your ears.

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. The words are stuck, tangled in your throat. His lips twitch into a smirk, almost as if he knows exactly what you’re feeling.

Suddenly, he steps closer, so close that you can feel the heat from his body, the dangerous magnetism of him drawing you in.

"You’re curious, aren’t you?" His breath brushes your skin as he speaks, and you can’t look away from his eyes. You don’t want to. But you’re also terrified.

Before you can say anything, he reaches out and gently touches your face. It’s too gentle for someone who’s staring at you like he wants to devour you whole. And just as his fingers graze your skin, you feel... something.

A jolt. Like a live wire running through your veins, making your heart race even faster.

And then, just as quickly, it’s gone. The heat, the tension, the undeniable pull between you and him—vanishes like it never existed.

You gasp for air, feeling dizzy, and suddenly, you’re back in your room. You’re breathing hard, your sheets tangled around your legs, the faint morning light creeping through your window.

What the hell was that?

Your pulse is still erratic, your mind a mess of confusion. You didn’t even get his name. Why does he feel so familiar? Why does your heart keep pounding like it’s still trapped in that dream?

You roll over and groan into your pillow, trying to shake the image of his smirk, his dark eyes, the feeling of his touch. You’ve had weird dreams before, but this one... this one was different.

Shaking your head, you try to push the thoughts out of your mind. But no matter how much you try to ignore it, you can’t get him out of your head. You’ve never even talked to him.

So why is it that when you close your eyes, all you can see are his eyes—those dark, mesmerizing eyes?

The next day had been one of those long days at the hospital—the kind where the fluorescent lights seem to bore into your skull and every step feels heavier than the last. You had thought about going straight home, but a nagging headache and the idea of another haunting dream convinced you otherwise. A quick stop for some caffeine at the local coffee shop felt like the natural choice.

The small bell above the door jingles softly as you step inside. It’s quiet, save for the low hum of an espresso machine and the soft chatter of a barista with the only other customer in the shop.

And then you see him.

At first, you’re not sure it’s him. His back is to you, dressed in an oversized black hoodie and sweats, leaning casually against the counter. But there’s something so distinct about his presence, the easy confidence in the way he moves. He turns slightly to glance at the pastries on display, and your breath catches. It’s him—the guy from the group of strangers you saw at the store. Only, he’s even more striking up close.

The barista hands him a drink, and he steps to the side, giving you a clear view of his face. His features are sharp yet soft, the kind that draw your attention and refuse to let it go. His eyes briefly meet yours, and for a fleeting second, it feels like he knows something about you that you don’t.

You quickly avert your gaze, stepping up to the counter to place your order.

“Just a latte, please,” you say, fumbling with your wallet.

“You’re working late, huh?” a voice pipes up beside you. You glance over, and sure enough, he’s still there, holding his drink, leaning casually against the counter.

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the ID badge still clipped to your scrubs. “You’re a nurse, right? Those shifts are brutal.”

“Nurse practitioner, but yeah, they can be,” you reply cautiously.

“I respect that. Saving lives and all,” he says with a smile that’s just a little too perfect, a little too practiced.

You narrow your eyes slightly. “I don’t think I saw you at the hospital today.”

His grin widens, almost as if he’s amused by your speculation. “Nope. Not a patient, promise. I’d remember if I was.”

There’s something playful in his tone that makes your guard falter, if only for a moment. “Do you just hang out in coffee shops at night and chat people up, or am I special?” you ask, your voice laced with sarcasm.

He laughs, a light, melodic sound that catches you off guard. “You’re definitely special.”

Before you can respond, your drink is ready, and you quickly grab it, grateful for the excuse to leave the conversation. But as you turn to leave, he steps slightly closer—not enough to invade your space, but enough to make you notice.

“I’m Haechan, by the way,” he says, his voice dropping just a fraction lower.

You hesitate. There’s something about him that’s simultaneously disarming and unnerving, like he’s trying to charm you but isn’t quite hiding the fact that there’s more to him. “Nice to meet you,” you reply stiffly, not offering your name.

His smile doesn’t waver. “See you around, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen at his comment, quickly turning and leaving the coffee shop, willing yourself not to think about how he could possibly know your name.

You walk out into the night, your heart pounding for reasons you can’t quite explain. The dream from the night before flashes in your mind, and for a split second, you wonder if he somehow knows.

But that’s ridiculous...right?

You’re beginning to see a pattern, though you wish you weren’t. The blood loss patients all share the same eerie story—waking up dazed, no memory of what could’ve caused their symptoms. They come from all walks of life: a college student, a local farmer, even a retired teacher. No clear connection. No logical explanation.

You jot down your observations in a small notebook you keep tucked away in your bag, trying not to let the unease get to you. It’s just...strange. But there’s nothing you can do about it yet, so you try to go about life as normally as possible, even if your nights are haunted by dreams of him.

The dreams always feel too vivid. Haechan’s piercing eyes, his crooked smirk, the way his presence sets your nerves on fire. You wake up most mornings confused and on edge, unable to shake the way his voice echoes in your mind like he’s right there with you.

You’re trying not to think about him when Giselle drags you to the town’s outdoor shopping market. She’s determined to make you forget about work for a while, even if it means forcing you to eat fried dumplings at her favorite stall.

It’s working—at least until you see them.

Haechan and another guy you vaguely recognize, Jaemin, are leaning casually against a bench on the other side of the street. They’re dressed too well for the casual market atmosphere, their dark clothes and sharp features making them stand out against the pastel storefronts and strolling families. But it’s not just how they look—it’s the way they’re both staring.

At you.

“Uh, Y/N?” Giselle nudges your arm with her elbow, her voice low. “Why are those guys looking at you like that?”

“I have no idea,” you mutter, your pulse quickening.

Before you can even think about walking away, the two of them start heading toward you. You tense instinctively, clutching your shopping bag tighter as Giselle frowns beside you.

“Hey,” Haechan greets, his smile disarmingly warm. His eyes, however, are locked on you, glinting with something unreadable.

Jaemin nods in acknowledgment, his expression more neutral but still sharp, like he’s analyzing every move you make.

“Hi,” you manage, your voice steady despite the way your heart is hammering.

“You’re new in town,” Haechan states, tilting his head slightly. “Well, not new, exactly. You grew up here, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” you reply cautiously, unsure how he knows that.

He smiles again, wider this time. “It’s funny how things come full circle, isn’t it? Leaving just to end up back where you started.”

You blink, taken aback. His words feel loaded with meaning you can’t quite grasp, like he’s speaking in some kind of code.

“And you’re...” Jaemin glances at Giselle, raising an eyebrow. “Not from around here?”

“Uh, no, I am,” Giselle answers, her tone clipped. She shifts closer to you, clearly not loving the attention. “Lived here my whole life.”

“Interesting,” Jaemin replies, though it’s unclear what he actually finds interesting.

Haechan’s gaze doesn’t waver from you, and you feel like you’re standing under a microscope. “It’s a nice place,” he says, almost absentmindedly. “Quiet. But I guess every town has its secrets, doesn’t it?”

“Okay,” Giselle cuts in, her voice sharp as she grabs your arm. “Well, it was great meeting you guys, but we have to go.”

Haechan chuckles softly, a low sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Of course. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

You barely manage to nod before Giselle pulls you away, her grip firm as she steers you down the street.

“That was so weird,” she mutters once you’re out of earshot. “What’s their deal? And why were they staring at you like that?”

You shake your head, still trying to calm the fluttering in your chest. “I don’t know,” you admit. But even as you say it, Haechan’s cryptic smile lingers in your mind, as if daring you to figure it out.

A few weeks later, you’re on your way home after a late shift. The quiet hum of the countryside at night wraps around you like a heavy blanket. The air is crisp, carrying the faint smell of wet grass, and the silence is almost eerie. 

The drive is the same as every other time you’ve done it before, but this time, your car starts to stall, making all kinds of weird noise and jerking to a stop.

Your car sputters one final time before the engine gives out completely. Groaning, you slam your hand against the steering wheel.

“Fuck me,” you mutter under your breath, flipping on your hazards and stepping out. The gravel crunches under your shoes as you inspect the car, but honestly, what are you even looking for? You don’t know the first thing about fixing an engine.

Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you glance at the screen. One bar of service. Perfect.

You shiver as a faint breeze picks up, tugging at your jacket. The road stretches on endlessly in both directions, illuminated only by the weak beam of your hazards. No other cars. No streetlights. Just you, your useless car, and the creeping unease you’ve been trying to ignore since your car broke down.

Then you see it—two headlights approaching from the distance, growing brighter as they near. You squint against the light, shielding your eyes with your hand. The car slows, its sleek, dark shape pulling up beside you.

The passenger window rolls down, and you’re greeted by a familiar voice.

“Need a hand?”

Your heart jolts as you recognize Haechan sitting in the driver’s seat, his elbow casually resting on the edge of the window. His hair is slightly tousled, and he’s dressed in all black, which only adds to the air of mystery around him. His smile is easy, but there’s something unsettling in the way his eyes seem to take in every detail of you. You also notice that his skin is unusually dull, almost dead-looking.

“Haechan?” you say, surprised. “What are you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” he replies smoothly, his gaze flickering to your car. “Late night joyride?”

You fumble for words, feeling slightly exposed under his unwavering attention. “No. My car broke down. I was on my way back from work.”

He hums, stepping out of his own car. You notice how quiet the night becomes in his presence, the air seeming to thrum with something unspoken.

“Let me take a look,” he offers, walking toward your car with a confidence that makes you feel like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You trail behind him, hugging your arms to your chest as he pops the hood. He peers into the engine, his face partially obscured by shadows.

“How do you even know how to fix this?” you ask skeptically.

Haechan straightens, wiping his hands on his pants as he turns to face you. “Let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of car troubles,” he says, his smile playful but not entirely reassuring.

Before you can press further, the sound of another car approaching pulls your attention. You glance back to see faint headlights in the distance. When you turn back to Haechan, you catch the briefest flicker of something—unease?—cross his expression. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by his usual charm.

“Good news,” he says, closing the hood with a decisive thud. “It’s nothing serious. You should be good to go now.”

You blink at him. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

You glance at the car, then back at him. Something about the way he showed up so conveniently, so effortlessly, gnaws at you.

“Thanks,” you mumble, feeling a little dazed. “I guess I’ll get going then.”

“Drive safe,” Haechan replies, his tone light, but his eyes linger on you for a beat too long.

As you get back into your car, the engine rumbles to life as if nothing had ever happened in the first place. You glance in the rearview mirror, but Haechan is already climbing back into his own car. His headlights flash as he pulls away, disappearing into the night like he was never there at all.

The whole encounter leaves your stomach churning, and as you drive off, the thought won’t leave your mind—what was he even doing out here? Why did his previously luminous skin look so dull?

You wake up to the smell of coffee and the low hum of voices drifting from the kitchen. Sunlight streams through the curtains, and for a moment, you consider staying in bed a little longer, but the memory of last night pushes you up. After a quick shower and throwing on some sweats, you make your way downstairs.

Your mom is at the stove, flipping pancakes, while your dad sits at the table, his laptop open beside his plate. They both glance up as you enter.

“Morning, honey,” your mom says brightly. “Pancakes will be ready in a minute.”

“Morning,” you mumble, grabbing a mug and pouring yourself some coffee. You sit at the table across from your dad, who’s already eyeing you curiously.

“You got in pretty late last night,” he says, his tone casual but laced with concern.

“Yeah,” you reply, blowing on your coffee. “The car broke down.”

Your mom turns sharply from the stove. “What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you assure her quickly. “It was on that long stretch of road just outside town. Nobody was around.”

Your dad’s brow furrows, his lawyer instincts kicking in. “And you stayed out there by yourself?”

“No, I didn’t,” you say, cutting him off before he can worry too much. “Haechan showed up and helped me.”

Both of them pause, exchanging a glance that makes you feel like you’d said something wrong.

“One of those boys?” your mom asks, her tone teetering between disbelief and unease.

“Yeah,” you say cautiously, knowing exactly where this is going.

Your dad leans back in his chair, folding his arms. “What was he doing out there at that hour?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “But he fixed the car. It was fine after that.”

“Hmm,” your dad mutters, clearly not buying it.

“He’s weird,” your mom says, flipping the last pancake onto a plate. “I’ve seen him around town with those other boys. They’re… I don’t know. There’s something off about them.”

You sigh, setting your mug down. “They’re just new to town. You’re making it a bigger deal than it is.”

“Maybe,” your dad says, but his skeptical tone suggests otherwise. “Still, this isn’t the first time your car’s acted up, is it? I think it’s time we get you something reliable.”

Your heart sinks. “I don’t need a new car. It’s fine.”

“It broke down on an empty road in the middle of the night,” your mom points out. “What if Haechan hadn’t shown up? What if no one had?”

“I just… I don’t want to get rid of it,” you say, your voice quieter now.

Your dad softens, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “I get it. You’ve had that car for years. But it’s not safe anymore. We’ll help you get something newer, something you can count on.”

You bite your lip, feeling conflicted. The car holds so many memories—your first drive to college, late-night trips with friends, the sense of independence it gave you. Letting it go feels like letting go of a piece of yourself. But the thought of being stranded again, of the creeping unease from last night, convinces you.

“Okay,” you say finally. “But I’ll pay for half of it.”

Your dad chuckles. “We’ll see about that.”

Your mom sets a plate of pancakes in front of you, giving you a sympathetic smile. “It’s for the best, sweetie.”

You nod, trying to focus on the food instead of the ache in your chest.

“So,” your dad says after a beat, his tone shifting back to skepticism, “did Haechan say why he was out there?”

“No,” you admit. “He just showed up, fixed the car, and left.”

“Strange,” your mom says, sitting down beside your dad. “You be careful around him, okay? I don’t want you getting too involved with those boys.”

You don’t respond, cutting into your pancake and chewing slowly. The truth is, you’re not sure what to think. About the car. About Haechan. About any of it.

It feels almost fake, the way you keep running into him. First at the hospital, then on the side of the road, and now here—again—at the small café you frequent on your days off. He’s leaning casually against the counter, scrolling through his phone, as if he belongs there.

You try to tell yourself it’s nothing. Small towns are like that. People cross paths all the time. But when he looks up and catches your gaze, his lips curve into a knowing smile, like he’s been expecting you.

“Thanks again for helping me out the other night,” you blurt, stepping closer. “I didn’t get a chance to properly thank you.”

He tilts his head, pretending to think it over. “It was no big deal, I promise.”

“Well... let me do something to make it up to you. Can I buy you a drink?” you offer, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

Something flickers in his dark eyes, and for a second, you think he’s going to say no. But then he shrugs. “Sure. Why not?”

You lead the way to the small bar just down the street. It’s quiet for a weeknight, a few scattered regulars nursing their beers while soft music hums from the jukebox. You settle into a booth near the back, and a waiter comes by to take your order.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” you say, glancing at Haechan.

He raises an eyebrow. “Make that two.”

The drinks arrive quickly, but as you take a sip of yours, you notice Haechan barely touches his. Instead, he leans back against the booth, watching you with a lazy sort of curiosity.

“So, what’s it like working at the hospital?” he asks, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s suppressing a grin.

“It’s... busy,” you say carefully. “You meet all kinds of people. See a lot of weird things.”

“Weird, huh?” He swirls the drink in his hand, the ice clinking against the glass.

You nod, not wanting to elaborate. But the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the most fascinating thing in the room—makes your pulse quicken.

“You smell really good, by the way,” he says suddenly, his voice soft but deliberate.

Your hand freezes halfway to your drink. “Oh... uh, thanks?”

“It’s... unique,” he adds, tilting his head like he’s studying you. “Like vanilla, maybe? Something sweeter.”

You can feel your cheeks flush. “Okay, well, that’s... kind of an odd thing to say.”

He laughs, the sound warm and rich, and for a moment, you almost forget how unsettling the comment was. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it weird. Just... making an observation.”

You sip your drink, the chill of the gin soothing the heat creeping up your neck from Haechan’s strange comment. The bar is quiet, the low murmur of conversation blending with the soft music in the background. You shift in your seat, Haechan’s still watching you, his gaze intense in a way that makes you feel like he's dissecting everything about you, but you try to ignore it.

“So, uh…” You bite your lip, trying to steer the conversation somewhere safer. “I shouldn’t really be talking about this, but I’ve had some weird cases lately at the hospital. Like... blood loss cases.”

Haechan leans forward just slightly, his eyes lighting up at the mention of it. “Blood loss? Like, what kind of blood loss?”

You frown. It’s hard to explain, but the way he’s asking makes you feel like he’s almost too interested. Too curious.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging it off. “It’s not like... they’re missing any blood or anything obvious. But a lot of patients are coming in, saying they woke up feeling off, but they don’t remember how they got hurt. And there’s this weird pattern with it.”

Haechan tilts his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “That’s... weird. What do you think it is?” He leans even closer, his voice a little too smooth.

You hesitate, unsure why you’re even talking about this with him, but you keep going. "I don’t know. At first, I thought it was just... coincidence. But it’s happening too often, and none of them have any injuries to show for it."

“Hmm,” he hums, tapping his fingers on the rim of his glass. “That sounds pretty crazy. You ever think maybe it’s something... supernatural?”

You freeze for a moment, caught off guard by his suggestion. It’s such a random thing to say, especially from someone you’ve just met. You chuckle, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Supernatural? Really? I’m a nurse, not some kind of paranormal investigator.”

Haechan smirks, his gaze never leaving you. “I’m just saying… Sometimes things aren’t always as they seem.”

You narrow your eyes at him, your mind racing. He’s definitely not taking you seriously, but why does it feel like he knows something more than he’s letting on?

“I shouldn’t even be telling you all this,” you mutter, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “It’s just... strange. And no one’s really been able to explain it.”

But Haechan leans in a little closer, his smile now playful, but there’s an underlying intensity in his voice. “Oh come on, I’m not gonna bite. You can tell me. What do you think’s going on with all these people?”

His eyes are focused, almost too focused, and it feels like he’s reading you, waiting for you to spill your suspicions. Something about the way he’s prying is starting to make you uneasy.

“I don’t know. It’s probably just some weird coincidence,” you say, though you’re not even convinced of that yourself. You’re starting to feel like you’re playing into his game.

“You sure about that?” Haechan asks, his voice lower now, almost as if he’s coaxing you into revealing more. “I mean, there’s gotta be more to it, right? All these patients... No injuries but still blood loss? That’s gotta be something worth looking into.”

You shake your head, feeling the unease settle in your stomach. “I think... I think it’s just a weird coincidence. You’re probably right, though. I’m probably overthinking it.”

Haechan gives you a sly grin, clearly satisfied with your answer, though you’re not sure why. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Or maybe you’re just not seeing the bigger picture yet.”

“Maybe,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. You can’t shake the feeling that he knows something—or that he’s trying to get you to talk about something you’re not ready to acknowledge.

The silence stretches for a moment as you both sip your drinks, the tension lingering in the air. But as you sit there, you can’t help but feel like you’re being drawn into something much bigger than just a simple conversation about weird hospital cases.

And when the night ends, and you drive home alone under the dim streetlights, you realize you never once saw him drink from his glass.

The night air was cool, and the shadows cast long and quiet around them. The group of friends had gathered in the usual spot—an old, dilapidated barn just outside of town, away from the prying eyes of anyone who might ask questions. It was one of the few places they could talk freely, and tonight, they needed to.

Haechan leaned against the rotting wooden beams, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he stared off into the distance, his thoughts miles away. Jaemin, Chenle, and Jeno were all present, but none of them spoke right away. They were all waiting for him to break the silence, to say something about what was bothering him.

Jaemin caved, and spoke, his tone casual but laced with concern. “You’re acting weird, man,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “What’s going on with you and that girl?”

Haechan’s jaw tightened at the mention of you, and he instinctively glanced down at the dirt beneath his feet, avoiding their gaze. “It’s nothing,” he muttered. “Just... it’s nothing.”

But the others weren’t buying it. Chenle’s sharp gaze flicked over to him, a smirk on his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’ve been obsessed with her ever since the other night. We can see it. You can’t keep going down this road, Haechan.”

Jeno, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke, his voice low but serious. “You’re making this complicated. You’ve got enough problems as it is. Don’t let it get worse.”

Haechan rubbed the back of his neck, frustration bubbling up inside him. “I know,” he admitted quietly. “I just... she’s different. I don’t know why, but she feels different from everyone else. I can’t stop thinking about her. She makes me feel... I don’t know. Normal.”

Jaemin clicked his tongue, an exasperated expression crossing his face. “That’s exactly what you need to avoid. Normality doesn’t work for us, Haechan. You can’t afford to get attached. She’s a human. You’re not. I don’t even need to tell you what happens when you get too close to one of them. You know the risks.”

Chenle chimed in, his voice suddenly serious, all trace of teasing gone. “And let’s not forget about the blood thing,” he added, his eyes narrowing. “You’re still drinking human blood. You know Mark’s not going to let that slide if he finds out.”

Haechan’s stomach churned at the mention of Mark. The older vampire was their leader, the one who kept everyone in check. He was the one who insisted on sticking to the "cruelty-free" lifestyle—drinking only animal blood to stay under the radar of the humans. It was a rule, one that everyone else followed, but Haechan had been struggling to adhere to it since he was turned.

“I... I don’t know what to do anymore,” Haechan admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I keep telling myself I’ll stop, but every time I see her, it’s like I lose control.”

Jeno crossed his arms, his voice firm but sympathetic. “Look, Haechan, you can’t keep doing this. Mark’s already on edge about everything, and if he finds out you’ve been breaking the rules, it’s not just your neck on the line—it’s all of ours.”

Jaemin leaned against the barn wall, his eyes sharp. “Exactly. We’re already walking a tightrope here, you can’t afford to make it worse.”

Haechan’s gaze dropped to the ground, guilt and frustration swirling inside him. He’d always been a bit of a rule-breaker, but this? This was different. He was walking a dangerous path, and he knew it.

“I’m not trying to mess things up,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. “I don’t want to lose everything... I don’t want Mark to find out, but it’s hard.”

Chenle took a step forward, his voice a little softer now. “We get it. We really do. But you’ve gotta think about the bigger picture here. If Mark finds out, it’s not just your secret on the line. It’s all of ours. The last thing we need is him going off on us.”

Jaemin nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah, and you know Mark’s not going to let this slide. He’s got a lot on his plate, but if he finds out about this... it’s gonna get ugly.”

Haechan closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I’ll stop,” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll try. I just don’t know how long I can keep this up. Every time I see her, it’s like... everything else fades away. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Jeno softened, the sharp edge in his voice melting away as he placed a hand on Haechan’s shoulder. “We’re just trying to look out for you, man. You’ve gotta keep it together. For your sake, and for all of us.”

Jaemin, always the one to lighten the mood, flashed a grin. “Just stop drinking people’s blood, and maybe we won’t have to worry about you getting caught.”

Haechan gave a small, wry smile at that, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He didn’t want to admit it, but his friends were right. He had to stop. He had to get a grip before things got out of hand.

As they all fell into a heavy silence, Haechan couldn’t shake the feeling that the choices he made in the coming days would determine everything—not just for him, but for everyone he cared about.

You didn’t expect to see him again so soon, but when you walk into the only restaurant in town one night, there he is, sitting at a corner table, his eyes looking distant, his shoulders slouched in a way that’s uncharacteristic of him. His usual energy is absent, replaced with an almost palpable exhaustion. The sight makes your heart tighten in your chest.

You freeze for a moment, hesitating. Haechan has always been lively, the kind of guy who never seemed to take anything too seriously, always throwing out a joke or a playful comment. But today, his face is pale, his hair messier than usual, and his eyes—those eyes that usually spark with mischief—are dull, almost sunken.

You approach cautiously, unsure of what to say. You know you shouldn’t pry, but something inside you nags at you.

“Hey,” you say, trying to sound casual, but the concern slips into your voice. “You okay? You look... I don’t know, you look kinda rough today.”

Haechan doesn’t look up immediately. He fiddles with the cup in front of him, the steam rising from it, though you notice he doesn’t drink out of it.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, almost too quickly, his voice lacking its usual playful tone. He forces a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just, uh... didn’t sleep well last night.”

You don’t buy it. There’s something off, and it’s more than just lack of sleep. The way his hands tremble slightly as he adjusts the cup. The fact that his usual playful demeanor has been replaced with a quiet, almost hollow version of himself. You sit down across from him, unable to help yourself.

You approach cautiously, unsure of what to say. You know you shouldn’t pry, but something inside you nags at you.

“Hey,” you say, trying to sound casual, but the concern slips into your voice. “You okay? You look... I don’t know, you look kinda rough today.”

Haechan doesn’t look up immediately. He fiddles with the cup in front of him, the steam rising from it, though you notice he doesn’t take a sip.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, almost too quickly, his voice lacking its usual playful tone. He forces a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just, uh... didn’t sleep well last night.”

You don’t buy it. There’s something off, and it’s more than just lack of sleep. The way his hands tremble slightly as he adjusts the cup. The fact that his usual playful demeanor has been replaced with a quiet, almost hollow version of himself.

Haechan stands up abruptly, and for a moment, you think he’s going to leave. But then, he glances at you, an unreadable expression on his face, and asks, “Hey, do you want to see something?”

You pause, a little surprised by the sudden offer. You’d been expecting him to just slink away like every other time you’d spoken, but now he’s offering you something entirely different. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. The thought that he’s acting strange nags at the back of your mind, but something about his tone makes you feel like this could be important—like he needs you to come along, even if he’s not saying it outright.

“Uh... sure,” you say, your voice unsure, but you can’t stop yourself from agreeing. You can tell he’s not okay, and maybe, just maybe, this could be the thing that makes him feel better. He’s not the type to open up easily, so you’re willing to follow him if it’ll help.

Haechan gives you a small, almost wistful smile as if he’s relieved by your answer. Without saying much more, he leads you out of the café and toward the familiar black car parked by the curb.

“Get in,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost coaxing.

You hesitate, your eyes flicking to your own car parked further down the street. “Are you sure this is—?”

He cuts you off with a soft chuckle. “It’s fine. Just trust me.”

You’re not sure why, but you say nothing, sliding into the passenger seat. There’s a strange sense of calm that washes over you, a strange trust you’ve never felt before.

He turns the key in the ignition, and the car hums to life. The sound of the engine fills the quiet, but the unease in your stomach doesn’t go away. Your mind races—this isn’t something you should be doing, not with someone you barely know, and certainly not at this hour. If your parents knew...

But you don’t say anything. Maybe it’s because you want to help him, or maybe it’s because part of you feels drawn to him in a way you can’t explain.

The car rumbles through the empty streets as you leave the small town behind. The houses grow fewer and farther apart, and the night seems to stretch on forever. The moonlight casts long shadows on the dirt roads, and everything feels eerily quiet.

“Where are we going?” you finally ask, breaking the silence.

“Don’t ask questions,” Haechan replies with a smile, though it’s softer this time, like he’s actually trying to ease your nerves. “Just trust I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

You don’t ask any more questions as you drive further into the night, your thoughts swirling. You can’t help but wonder what he’s up to, why he’s so different tonight, why he’s asking for your trust so earnestly. But you also don’t want to let him down. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s been so closed off, and the little cracks you’ve started to see that make you want to understand him more.

After what feels like an eternity, Haechan pulls the car into a dirt road that leads to a vast patch of farmland. The land is empty, the crops long gone, the farmhouse standing abandoned and dilapidated, a shadow of its former self.

He stops the car and turns off the engine, the sudden silence feeling even heavier.

“This is it,” Haechan says, his voice softer now, almost distant. “I come out here sometimes. It helps clear my head.”

You look around at the forgotten farmland, the tall grass swaying gently in the breeze. It’s so quiet out here, the only sounds the distant rustling of the trees and the occasional chirp of crickets. You get out of the car, feeling the cool night air hit your face, and step beside him, unsure of what you’re doing here, but too curious to leave.

He glances over at you with a small smile, his eyes a little brighter in the dark, like the stars overhead. “You ever just look up and feel small? Like the world’s so big, and you’re just a tiny part of it?”

You can’t help but nod. “Yeah, I get that sometimes.”

Haechan takes a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing as he looks up at the night sky, his expression unreadable.

“You make me feel normal, Y/N,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. His eyes flick to you, his lips curling up slightly. “Like maybe I don’t have to be so... different all the time.”

You feel a flicker of something in your chest at his words. There’s an undertone there, something you can’t quite place. The way he looks at you... it’s not just a casual glance. It’s like he’s seeing something in you that you don’t quite understand yet.

“Different?” you ask, your voice unsure, but you feel the need to ask. It’s been a question on your mind since you first met him, since you first noticed how... unusual he is.

He chuckles softly, a sound that doesn’t quite match the heaviness in his eyes. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

You try to meet his gaze, but there’s a wall there, something he’s not letting you into. The thought lingers in the back of your mind, and for the first time, you wonder just what it is he’s hiding.

But instead of pressing, you just nod, turning your gaze back to the stars. The silence between you stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. In fact, it feels strangely intimate, like you’re both floating in the same stillness, sharing something neither of you can fully name.

Eventually, Haechan sighs, and the weight of the moment seems to shift.

“Thanks for coming out here with me,” he says quietly, breaking the silence. “I don’t know why, but it helps. Being around people who make me feel... not freakish.”

You smile softly, unsure of what else to say. He’s said enough for now, and maybe, for the first time, you realize that the pieces of him that have been hidden behind walls are starting to crack just a little. Maybe soon, he’ll let you in. But for now, this is enough.

You glance up at the stars again, feeling a strange sense of calm.

“Yeah,” you reply, almost to yourself. “I get it.”

The night lingers on, and you both stay there, staring up at the stars, with the unspoken words between you both hanging in the cool air.

Haechan can’t shake the feeling that he’s dying.

It’s not dramatic, but it’s close enough. His body aches, his mind feels foggy, and no matter how much he tries to sleep or eat—nothing helps. He’s been cutting himself off from the blood, trying to prove that he can do this, trying to fight it. The cravings are there, gnawing at the back of his throat, but he’s trying—trying—to ignore them.

He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Doesn’t want to fall back into old habits.

But the hunger is relentless. It claws at him when he’s alone, when he’s trying to focus, when he’s near you.

Being around you is the only thing that makes him feel normal, the only thing that pushes away the hunger for just a moment. The more he sees you, the more he needs to see you. It’s like a fix, a quiet peace that settles over him when the two of you are together.

“Dude, you okay?” Jaemin’s voice cuts through the haze, a sharp note of concern in it that Haechan can’t ignore.

He looks up to see the group’s concerned faces staring back at him. Jeno and Chenle are also watching him, arms crossed, silent.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Haechan says, but his voice is strained. It’s the same thing he’s been saying for days. He’s not fine. His body feels like it’s burning from the inside, and no amount of water or food can quell it.

Jaemin doesn’t buy it. He walks over, looking him up and down. “You don’t look fine. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Haechan rubs his eyes, trying to clear the exhaustion. “I’ve been busy, okay? Just haven’t had time to rest.”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t push. “It’s not just that, though. You’ve been acting weird. You keep disappearing. And every time you come back, you smell… different.” He leans closer, sniffing the air dramatically, earning a roll of the eyes from Haechan.

“Cut it out, Jaemin,” he mutters, swatting at his friend’s hand.

Jeno, who’s been unusually quiet, finally speaks up. “Look, we all know you’ve been… trying to stop. But you can’t just cut off the blood supply like that and expect to feel good. You’re messing with your system, Haechan. You need it.”

“I don’t want it anymore,” Haechan snaps, the words coming out sharper than he intends. He exhales, trying to calm himself. “I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

He pauses, looking at his friends, feeling the weight of their gazes. “It’s just… It’s hard, okay? Especially when I’m around her.”

Jaemin, ever the curious one, raises an eyebrow. “Who? Y/N?”

Haechan’s heart skips, just a little, at the mention of youe name. He’s never admitted it aloud, not even to himself. But the truth is, you are the only thing that makes it all feel bearable. You’re the reason he’s still standing, still breathing, even if it's just in fragments.

“I don’t know what it is,” he mutters, his voice quiet now. “She’s just… different. Every time I see her, I feel like I’m finally able to breathe again. And I know that’s messed up, but it’s true.” He laughs bitterly. “I can’t explain it. It’s just… something about her pulls me in. I just… need to be near her.”

Jeno and Chenle exchange a glance.

“I still don’t get it,” Chenle says, shaking his head. “What’s so special about her? I mean, she’s just a human.”

Haechan’s jaw tightens. “She’s not just a human.” His voice softens, almost wistful. “She makes me feel normal. Not like... this.”

Jaemin claps his hands together, leaning in, trying to lighten the mood. “Look, man. Just don’t go overboard. Mark’s been asking about you. He knows something’s up.”

Haechan’s stomach drops at the mention of Mark. Mark has always been the level-headed one, taking care of them whenever they needed it and trusting them implicitly. If he finds out what’s going on with Haechan, it’s all over.

“I’m not doing anything crazy, alright?” Haechan says, quickly. He stands up and brushes himself off, trying to hide the nerves that flood through him. “I’m just... keeping my distance, okay?”

Jaemin’s grin is sly. “Well, if you don’t want Mark to find out, you better chill with all the Y/N stuff. It’s obvious you’re way into her.”

Haechan looks at him, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in his chest at the thought. He’s not into her. Not in the way Jaemin means. But he’s still drawn to her, more than he’s ever been to anyone. And that’s the problem.

“I’m not into her,” Haechan mutters, though even he knows it’s a lie.

Jaemin just shrugs. “Whatever, dude. Just don’t let it get out of hand.”

As Haechan walks out of the room, he can’t help but think about his friends’ words. They’re right, in a way. But when it comes to you, everything feels different. And he can’t seem to stop himself from wanting more.

You’re starting to get used to it—the rides, the late-night drives, the feeling that Haechan is always around. It’s no longer as weird as it once was, almost making you feel safe, and maybe that’s what gets to you the most. The strangeness you’d once felt when you first met him has been replaced with something… comforting. You can’t put your finger on it, but there’s something about him that makes you feel like things are just a little bit easier.

The first time he offers to drive you to work, you’re reluctant. You hate being dependent on others, let alone someone you barely know. But your car’s practically falling apart, and the idea of breaking down again isn’t exactly appealing, so you give in.

And just like that, he starts picking you up every morning. It’s like an unspoken routine, and after a few days, it’s almost like you’ve always had this. He’s always there at the same time, always with that casual smile and a way of making even the silence feel comfortable.

“You really don’t have to do this, Haechan,” you say one morning, standing at your front door and looking at your car. “I’ll be fine.”

He looks at your car with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna last long.”

You huff a little, but it’s not a serious protest. In truth, you’re kind of relieved. Your car is definitely on its last legs. He’s there every day now, picking you up, and it becomes a sort of comfort. Something you look forward to as you climb into the passenger seat, the world outside your window slowly passing by as you talk.

You talk about work, about random things. It’s easy to get lost in conversation with him. And somehow, the more you talk, the more you feel like you’re peeling away the layers, getting to know him. Even if you’re not asking direct questions, it’s like you’re discovering the little things that make him tick.

But then there are your parents.

They start to notice, of course. They’re always watching, always concerned, and you can tell when the questions start. You’d think they’d be relieved you weren’t driving around in your old car anymore, but they’re more skeptical than anything.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with that boy lately,” your mom says, casually, but you can see the look in her eyes. The concern. She doesn’t have to say much for you to know what she’s thinking.

“He’s just helping me out with my car, Mom,” you respond quickly, brushing it off.

“Are you sure that’s all?” she presses, narrowing her eyes in that way she does when she’s trying to get to the truth. “You don’t really know him, do you?”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the flicker of doubt in your chest. “He’s just a friend, Mom. Really.”

Your dad doesn’t even try to hide his disapproval when the topic comes up over dinner. “So, now you have a personal chauffeur?” he says, his tone sharp and skeptical. “What’s he after?”

You feel your cheeks flush. “Nothing, Dad. He’s just a friend.”

But the concern doesn’t fade. If anything, it makes it worse. Your dad watches your every move when you leave the house, and you can feel the tension between him and Haechan the first time they meet. It’s like a silent standoff, and you’re not sure what’s making your dad so antsy, but it’s there. And that only makes you feel more conflicted.

“Be careful, alright?” your mom says quietly, her eyes following you as you walk out the door. “You don’t know who his friends are. Or what he’s really like.”

You don’t respond, but the unease lingers. It gnaws at you, even though you try to push it away. You tell yourself it’s nothing. Your parents are just overprotective.

The truth is, you don’t know what to make of Haechan. You’re still figuring him out, and as you spend more time with him, you start to see sides of him that make you think maybe your parents are right to be worried. Sometimes he says things that don’t make sense, or acts in ways that are just a little too charming, too… perfect. It’s like he knows exactly how to make you feel comfortable, exactly how to make you feel like the world’s a little less complicated when he’s around.

You don’t know why you’re so drawn to him, but you are. And that’s the scariest part.

One night after work, Haechan pulls up to your house as usual. You’re tired, your legs aching from standing all day, and you can’t wait to get inside and collapse into bed. But when you see him sitting in the car, looking at you with that familiar, almost concerned look, you feel a tug at your chest.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer than usual. “You look kind of wiped.”

“I’m fine,” you reply, trying to brush it off. “Just a long day.”

But he doesn’t seem convinced. “You sure?”

You nod, but he’s still looking at you with that too-knowing gaze. It’s like he sees right through the walls you’ve built up.

“Alright, well… get some rest, okay?” he says, a little too carefully.

You smile and nod, but as you turn to open the door, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s watching you a little too closely. It’s not unsettling, though. In a strange way, it makes you feel… seen.

The next morning, it’s the same routine. The same car, the same comforting silence between you two. You slip into the passenger seat, already feeling like this is your new normal. The world outside is a blur, and for a while, it’s just the two of you, the road, and the easy conversation that flows between you.

Maybe your parents are right to worry. Maybe Haechan isn’t exactly what he seems.

But right now, none of that matters. Right now, it’s just you and him. And for the first time in a long time, that’s enough.

You’re working your usual shift at the hospital, dreading returning home, since the house was empty, your parents having gone on a weekend trip to the coast. Something about having the house to yourself felt wrong, as if you weren’t supposed to be there.  You were checking on patients and trying to stay on top of your never-ending to-do list. The night is quiet, almost eerily so, when suddenly you get a call for a new patient who’s been brought in after a car accident. You rush to the emergency room to help.

The whole thing happens so fast. A small fender-bender turns into chaos when the injured man starts bleeding uncontrollably, and the pressure to get him stabilized is on. The room’s filled with frantic activity, the beeping of machines, the distant sounds of nurses and doctors hustling around. You’re running on autopilot, focused on getting everything right, keeping your head in the game.

Then, as you step back, you trip on one of the many cords snaking around the patient, losing your footing and crashing into a nearby medical cart. You hit your head against the metal shelf hard enough for a sharp pain to shoot through your skull. The force leaves you dazed for a moment, and you stumble, but manage to catch yourself before you hit the ground.

You’re stunned, disoriented, but you quickly shake it off. It’s just a small bump. Nothing serious. You finish helping with the patient’s stabilization, and the team moves the man into the intensive care unit. Still, your head throbs, and when you bring your hand up to it, you feel the sticky warmth of blood.

The rest of the night is a blur of patients and responsibilities. You try to stay focused, but every time you move, the pain in your head intensifies. By the time your shift ends, you’re exhausted and ready to head home.

Today had been one of the rare days you were able to convince Haechan not to pick you up, he had seemed sick and you quickly assured him you’d be able to make it to and from work in one piece. 

The drive home is silent, your head still pounding. You pull up to your house, your neck aching, your vision blurry. You’re halfway to the door when your phone buzzes with a message from Haechan.

Haechan: “How are you? You okay?”

You smile despite yourself, not realizing how much you’ve come to look forward to his messages. He’s always checking in, and you appreciate it. But you’re also annoyed with yourself for not letting him know how much you need him around more often.

You text back: “Long shift. Bumped my head pretty bad, but it’s nothing. Just a little dizzy and tired”

It’s only a few minutes after you send this text when you hear a car pulling up in front of your house. You step out to check, and to your surprise, Haechan’s car pulls up right in front of your house. He looks frantic, eyes wide, hands gripping the wheel tight. When he sees you, his face softens, but the panic doesn’t fade from his eyes.

“Haechan? What—”

Before you can finish the sentence, he’s out of the car and at your side, looking you up and down. His gaze settles on your head, and you realize you’ve got a thin trickle of blood running down the side of your face. His breathing quickens as he reaches for your head, his hand trembling slightly as he touches it, almost as though he’s afraid of hurting you more.

“Y/N… what happened?” His voice is strained, like he’s struggling to stay calm. You’d never seen him like this before.

“I’m fine,” you insist, swatting his hand away gently. “Really, it’s just a little bump. I’ve had worse.”

But he’s not hearing you. His eyes flicker to your neck, his gaze darkening as though something inside him is fighting to stay under control. You notice the strange way his chest rises and falls, his jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth are grinding. His usual charm and ease have disappeared. He’s nothing like the confident, carefree guy you’ve come to know. In this moment, he looks almost… afraid.

“I can’t… I can’t be around when you’re like this,” he mutters, voice low, just above a whisper. He takes a step back, his eyes darting all over you as though he’s trying to pull himself together.

Before you can ask him what the hell is going on, he grabs your arm and pulls you gently but firmly towards his car.

“Come on,” he says, his voice now forceful, but not in the usual playful way. “We need to get you somewhere safe.”

You don’t protest. Part of you wonders if you should, but you don’t. There’s something in his eyes—something raw, desperate—and you know, deep down, that he’s not just being dramatic.

As he drives, you can feel the tension in his movements, like he’s doing everything to keep himself in check. The car ride is silent, the only noise being the hum of the engine and the occasional deep breath from Haechan.

He pulls up to the familiar spot—an empty field, the stars overhead. He cuts the engine but doesn’t get out, staring at the dashboard, his fingers gripping the wheel again. You’re unsure if you should break the silence or let him speak first, but before you can make up your mind, he turns to you.

“I… I can’t lose you,” he says quietly, his voice cracking as though it’s something he’s been holding in for a long time. “I don’t care how crazy it sounds, but I can’t.” He pauses, his eyes shifting away from yours. “I know what I am. I know I’m dangerous.”

He takes a shaky breath. “And I’m sorry. But you can’t get hurt, not like this.”

You don’t say anything right away. What do you say to that? You’re still reeling from the intensity of the situation, your head throbbing from the bump and the tension in the air.

But there’s something in his eyes that keeps you from running. You know, deep down, that whatever this is—it’s not just some passing thing. There’s more to it. And despite the fear, you want to understand.

"I don’t know what you're talking about," you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Haechan’s eyes flicker to yours, his gaze softening just a fraction. “I know… but I’m going to do everything I can to protect you. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

And for the first time, you wonder if you should be scared. Or if, somehow, you’ve already let yourself fall too far into this strange world Haechan is dragging you into.

The car ride is tense, Haechan’s grip on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white. His eyes dart from the road to you, his jaw clenching as if he’s fighting an internal battle. You’re too shaken to speak, and the headache from your injury is dull but persistent. You try to ignore it, but the silence between you feels suffocating.

When you arrive, it’s not where you expected. It’s not the familiar abandoned farm or some quiet spot you can retreat to. No, this place is sleek, almost eerie—like it’s frozen in time, hidden away from the rest of the world. The house looms in front of you, dark windows reflecting the dim light of the street lamps.

He doesn’t say a word, but when you hesitate, his eyes lock onto yours, almost desperate.

“Please. Just come inside. I just... I just need you to let me take care of you.”

You blink in confusion, but something in his gaze makes you step out of the car and follow him to the door. You can’t explain it, but you trust him. Even though you know something’s off, something about him is different. And right now, you don’t know what else to do.

The door opens before he even knocks, revealing a dimly lit hallway and a sense of discomfort that hits you instantly. The air smells faintly of something... metallic, almost. The atmosphere is heavy, like something is watching you from the shadows.

Before you can even ask where you are, Haechan’s hand grips your wrist tightly, pulling you inside, and the door slams shut behind you.

A few guys are already there—Jaemin, Jeno, and Chenle—sitting on the couches, their expressions sharp as they see you. They glance between you and Haechan, and you can practically feel the tension rise. There’s something about their eyes, the way they’re looking at you, that makes you uncomfortable.

“Hyuck, what the hell are you doing?” Jaemin asks, his voice cold but laced with concern. “What’s going on?”

Haechan is a mess—sweat dripping down his forehead, his body trembling like he can’t control it. His hands are shaking as he pulls at his shirt, his eyes wild. “Can you just help her?” His voice cracks, and you can feel the desperation pouring off him. "Just help me."

The other guys exchange glances, but they don’t argue. Instead, Jaemin stands and walks toward you, his demeanor softening.

“You’re hurt. You need to sit down,” Jaemin says calmly, taking your arm gently. “Don’t worry, okay? We’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

You feel like you’re floating as he gently guides you to sit on the sofa.

The room feels too small. The air is thick with tension, and you can’t help but watch as Haechan paces back and forth, his hands trembling at his sides. You’ve never seen him like this before. He looks... wrecked. There’s something unsettling about the way his eyes dart around, as if he’s on edge, like he’s trying to hold something back.

Jaemin is standing near the window, his brows furrowed as he watches Haechan closely. His hand hovers near his phone, as if he's debating calling someone, but before he can make a move, the door creaks open. Mark steps in, his presence immediately calming the room. He glances at you first, his eyes soft but guarded. Then, his attention shifts to Haechan, who freezes at the sight of him.

“Mark,” Jaemin says, his voice tight. “He’s not—he’s not good right now. It’s... it’s bad.”

Mark doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he steps further into the room, his eyes flicking between you and Haechan. The look on his face is unreadable, and he moves with an air of authority that quiets the room. He’s in charge here, even without saying a word.

Haechan’s breathing is shallow, and his eyes lock on Mark as if the mere sight of him is grounding him, just a little bit. But the frantic energy is still there, visible in the way he’s gripping the edges of the nearest table. “Help me, Mark,” he mutters, voice rough, like the words are clawing their way out of his chest. “I can’t—she’s so close, I can’t—I need her, I need to—”

“Hyuck, shut up,” Mark interrupts, his voice low but firm. He walks over to Haechan and places a hand on his shoulder, steering him away from the table. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”

Haechan freezes, the words hitting him like a slap. He looks at you for a split second—his eyes wild, confused, desperate. But Mark is there, pulling him away before he can get any closer. You’re not sure what to think, or what’s really going on, but you feel a knot tighten in your stomach.

Jaemin steps closer to you, his gaze softening. “You don’t have to worry,” he says quietly, though there’s an underlying tension in his voice. “We’re just trying to help him. He’s... been going through something, and he’s not himself right now.”

You want to ask what’s really happening, but before you can, Mark cuts in. He doesn’t want to give anything away, and you can see it in the way he’s controlling the situation. “We’ll take care of him,” he says, his voice as calm as he can make it. “You don’t need to get involved.”

Haechan looks like he’s about to lose it again, his eyes flashing with something you can’t quite name. He seems so... torn. There’s a part of him that’s trying to fight whatever is inside him, but it’s so clear now that he’s struggling. And you can’t shake the feeling that whatever is going on, it’s something more than you’re seeing.

“I can’t... I can’t go back to how it was,” Haechan whispers, his voice almost lost in the room. He doesn’t seem to be speaking to anyone, just to himself. “I can’t.” He repeats, as if trying to soothe himself.

Mark doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he nods, as though trying to keep his own emotions in check. “We’ll figure it out. But you need to pull it together before you hurt her,” he says, his voice stern.

Then, he turns to Jaemin and you, his expression hardening. “Take her to another room,” he orders, voice calm but firm. “I need to keep him away from her until we get this under control.”

Jaemin doesn’t argue. He gently takes your arm, guiding you toward the door without another word. You glance back at Haechan one last time, and something in his eyes pulls at you, but you don’t have the chance to react. Jaemin shuts the door behind you.

Inside the room, you can hear Haechan’s frantic breathing getting louder, mixed with Mark’s calm but firm instructions. It’s clear they’re trying to hide something from you—and you can’t shake the feeling that it’s not just about Haechan’s emotional state. But whatever it is, they’re not letting you in on it.

You want to know what’s really going on. You want to understand what’s happening to him. But you’re starting to realize that, no matter how much you care about him, there are some things you’re never going to know.

You sit quietly in the car, the weight of the situation still settling over you like a thick fog. Jeno is driving, Jaemin sitting in the passenger seat. The silence between you all is thick and uncomfortable. You’re still trying to process everything that happened back at the house—Haechan’s erratic behavior, his trembling hands, the frantic way he kept looking at you as if he couldn’t control himself. You’ve never seen anyone like that before, and it unsettles you more than you can put into words.

Jaemin glances back at you, his voice soft but trying to reassure you. “He’s just... going through a tough time,” he says, his words careful, as though he’s trying to convince himself just as much as you. “It’s not like he’s always like that. He’s been under a lot of pressure lately.”

You nod slowly, though your mind is racing. You can’t stop thinking about the way Haechan looked at you, the desperate, almost tormented look in his eyes. What was going on with him? Why did he act like that? And why were they trying so hard to hide whatever was really happening?

You don’t speak again during the ride. You’re too lost in your own thoughts, and the unsettling feelings swirling inside of you only grow stronger as you get closer to home. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, and the anxiety is starting to eat at you.

When they pull up to your house, Jaemin turns to you. “We’ll talk more later, okay?” he says, his voice calm, trying to soothe you, but it’s not enough. You’re too shaken to feel comforted right now.

You just nod again, muttering a quiet “Thanks,” before getting out of the car. You can still feel the strange weight of the night in your chest, and as you step inside your house, the sense of unease doesn’t leave.

You spend the rest of the night in your room, trying to distract yourself, but the thoughts of Haechan and his strange behavior keep resurfacing. Every time you close your eyes, you see his face—wild, desperate, almost unrecognizable in his struggle. It’s hard to shake the feeling that something isn’t right, and your heart sinks as you realize that whatever’s going on with him, you don’t know if you can handle it.

That night, sleep comes, albeit it fitfully. It’s filled with a nightmare that feels too real. You’re standing in a dark, empty room. It’s cold, and the walls feel like they’re closing in on you. And then you hear him—Haechan’s voice, low and almost... threatening.

You turn, but before you can move, he’s there. His eyes are wide, bloodshot, but it’s not him. Not the Haechan you know. He’s angry, wild, and you feel his hands on your arms, gripping you with a strength that’s too much, too much for you to break free from. His grip tightens, and you scream, but he doesn’t let go. The fear you feel in the dream is real, too real, and you wake up with a start, your breath shallow, heart racing in your chest.

You sit up in bed, your skin cold with sweat. The room is dark, and everything feels wrong. You can still hear his voice in your ears, feel the pressure of his hands on your skin, and you shiver. The nightmare lingers, the fear still gripping your chest, making it hard to breathe.

The morning after everything happened, you drive yourself to work. The ride is quiet, but your mind is a storm of thoughts. You can’t shake the image of Haechan’s face—the way he looked at you last night, desperate and frantic. The nightmare lingers like a shadow in the back of your mind, and you’re not sure which is worse: the vision of his hands on your arms in your dream or the fact that you don’t know what’s real anymore.

You turn the key in the ignition and start your car, the engine humming to life, but it feels like everything around you is in slow motion. You still can’t seem to shake the feeling of being watched, like Haechan’s presence is hovering just behind you, pulling you into his orbit. Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly, and you try to focus on the road ahead, pushing away the feelings of dread.

The hum of the engine is almost soothing, but it doesn’t stop the nervous tension in your chest or the pounding. As you drive, you think back to your parents, how they didn’t miss the change in your mood. You can feel their worried glances from the moment they saw you this morning, having arrived home late in the night, after you had already surrendered to sleep. They know something’s wrong, and it’s only a matter of time before they ask.

When you pull into your driveway after work, you’re relieved to be home. But as you step inside, your mother’s voice calls out from the kitchen.

“You’re home late,” she says, sounding concerned. “And you look... shaken up. What happened, honey?”

You swallow hard, trying to hide the unease still lingering inside you. “Nothing, Mom. Just a long day,” you lie, but your voice is too tight for her not to notice.

She walks over, setting a hand on your shoulder, looking you up and down like she’s trying to see through the mask you’re wearing. “Are you sure you’re alright?” she asks, her voice soft but insistent. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shake your head, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine, really. Just tired, that’s all.”

Your dad walks into the room then, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. “You look pale,” he observes. “Like something’s bothering you. Did something happen at work? Or... is it about that boy? Haechan, right?”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of his name. You can’t look them in the eye. “I’m fine, Dad. It’s just... I’m not feeling too great.”

They exchange a look, one you can’t quite place, but you know they’re worried. And it’s not just because of your sudden change in mood. They’re worried about something else.

“Has he been bothering you?” your dad asks, his voice low but laced with concern. “That boy... Haechan. He’s always been nice, but you’ve been spending a lot of time with him. Has he done anything that made you uncomfortable?”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. The last thing you want to do is talk about what happened, but you can’t lie to them either. You’re so tired of pretending like everything is fine. But you also can’t bring yourself to tell them the truth—not the whole truth. Not yet.

“I... I don’t know,” you admit, your voice shaking. “He just... he’s been acting weird. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but something’s off. Last night, I—” You stop, biting your lip, trying to hold it together. “I don’t know what’s happening anymore.”

Your mom pulls you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you tightly. “We’re here for you, sweetheart,” she says, her voice gentle. “But if you feel like something’s wrong, you need to let us know. You don’t have to keep it to yourself.”

You nod against her shoulder, unable to speak. You want to tell them everything—the truth about Haechan, what happened the night before, how terrified you felt in that moment. But you don’t. You don’t know how.

Later that night, you can feel your parents’ eyes on you as they discuss what’s going on. You hear bits and pieces of their conversation from your room—how they don’t trust Haechan, how worried they are about you being around him, and how they think you should stay away from him for your own safety.

You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling more isolated than ever. You should have been scared, but the truth is, you don’t know what you feel anymore. You’re confused, lost, and you just want to forget it all.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, a message from Haechan. It’s a simple, “Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry about earlier.”

But you don’t answer. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to explain that you’re scared of him, and that you’re not sure why.

You feel your heart heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.

You’ve been avoiding him.

It’s hard to do, considering how often you bump into him when you leave work, when you’re at the store, when you’re just out trying to live your life. But you’re doing it. For your own sanity, you’re keeping distance, and it’s making you anxious too. You can’t escape the nightmares and the visions of him in pain—and the overwhelming urge to help him. But something’s off. You can feel it in your bones.

The more you avoid him, the more anxious you become. But every time you see a message from him, your heart drops. What is it? Why is it that, despite being scared of him, you can’t seem to stop missing him?

Little do you know, he’s just as anxious without you around.

Every night, he finds himself staring at his phone, waiting for a message that doesn’t come. The loneliness gnaws at him like a hunger, and it’s not a hunger he can satisfy. He knows something’s wrong with him, but he can’t quite put it into words. He’s starting to lose control of his thoughts—his need for you growing sharper with each passing day. There’s no explanation for it. No reason why he feels this empty. But the truth is, he can’t stand being apart from you.

One evening, as Haechan paces around the house, restless, Mark notices.

“You’re a mess,” Mark comments, leaning against the doorframe of the room where Haechan is pacing back and forth. “If you keep this up, you’re going to crack.”

Haechan glances up, the exhaustion and anxiety clear in his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about her,” he admits, the words falling from his lips like they’ve been waiting to be said for far too long.

Mark stays quiet for a moment, taking in Haechan’s state. “You’re obsessed,” he mutters.

“I’m not obsessed,” Haechan snaps back. “I—I need her, Mark. I can’t keep pretending like this isn’t—” He cuts himself off, his voice breaking. “I think she’s my mate. She’s... the one.”

Mark’s eyes widen slightly, but his expression doesn’t change. He’s heard of this before—vampires finding their mates, that one person who becomes everything to them. It’s rare, but it happens. And when it does, it’s all-consuming.

“You’ve gotta be kidding,” Mark says, though there’s no malice in his voice—just disbelief. “You’re saying you think she’s... the one? Like, the one-one?”

Haechan nods, his chest tightening. “I’ve never felt anything like this before. It’s... it’s different. I know it doesn’t make sense, but she’s... I’m empty without her.”

Mark rubs his temples, his own frustration evident. “This is a mess, Haechan. You’re scaring her. And if she finds out you’re keeping tabs on her, she’s going to run from you for good. You need to talk to her.”

“But what if—what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Haechan’s voice cracks. “I can’t lose her. I—” He swallows, his hands shaking slightly. “I need to see her. I need to talk to her. I have to make her understand.”

Mark steps forward, placing a hand on Haechan’s shoulder, his grip firm but supportive. “Then go talk to her. But you have to do it right. No more creeping around in the shadows. No more avoiding her. If she’s your mate, you have to let her decide, too. But you have to be honest with her. No more hiding.”

Haechan nods, a weight settling in his chest. He knows Mark is right, but the thought of facing you, of telling you everything, terrifies him. He’s never felt this vulnerable in his life.

“I don’t want to scare her,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I get it,” Mark says, his expression softening. “But you can’t keep running from it. If she’s really the one... you can’t hide from her forever.”

The next day, Haechan finally decides to take Mark’s advice.

He drives to the cafe you’re always at after work. He parks across the street, watching you through the window, trying to steady his nerves. His hands are sweaty on the wheel, his heart hammering in his chest. What if you don’t understand? What if you don’t feel the same way?

He watches you for a long while, and then, as if on cue, you glance up and meet his gaze through the glass. Your eyes widen in surprise, but before he can wave or approach, you look away, clearly uncomfortable.

He feels a sharp pang in his chest, the space between them growing ever wider. No more running.

Taking a deep breath, he steps out of the car and walks across the street, determination pushing him forward. He reaches the door to the cafe and pauses just before entering. He looks at you again, and this time, when your eyes meet, there’s no hesitation.

You stand up from your seat, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The air between you is thick with unspoken words.

“I... I need to talk to you,” Haechan finally says, his voice rough but steady.

You blink, looking at him in confusion, but you nod. “Okay,” you say softly, not sure what to expect.

Haechan swallows, gathering every last bit of courage. “I’ve been... avoiding you. And I know you’ve been avoiding me, too. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you. You... You’re not just anyone to me.”

Your heart skips a beat as you watch his expression soften, his vulnerability clear in his eyes. “I need you, more than you know,” he says, and even though it sounds insane, he means it with everything in him.

You stare at him, too stunned to speak, trying to process what he just said. You don’t know what to say, how to respond. 

You’re lost in the chaos of your thoughts when he speaks again, softer this time, almost pleading. “Please, just listen to me. I’ve never felt like this before, not with anyone. You’re... everything to me.”

You search his eyes, looking for some sign that this is some cruel prank. “We barely know each other, Haechan, you sound crazy.”

Haechan’s face falls at your words, but he doesn’t retreat. His eyes are full of emotion—vulnerability, desperation, and a deep sense of yearning that you can’t ignore. He steps closer, his voice trembling with sincerity. “I know how it sounds. But I swear, I’m not joking. I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

You back away slightly, heart racing. This doesn’t feel real. You’ve known him for only a short time, and yet, here he is, spilling his soul in front of you, and you’re left trying to understand what he means.

“I get that this is... overwhelming,” Haechan continues, his voice raw. “But I need you to understand—I’ve been running from this. From you. Because I was scared. Scared of how much you mean to me, scared that you might think I’m some kind of monster. But I can’t run anymore.”

You blink, trying to process everything. “Monster? What are you—”

“I’m a vampire,” he cuts in quickly, his words coming out in a rush. “And so are the others—the ones you met. I didn’t want you to find out like this, but I can’t keep lying to you. You have to know the truth.”

Your mouth goes dry. A vampire? You think it’s some kind of twisted joke, your mind scrambling to come up with a response. But when you look into his eyes, there’s no trace of humor, no playful glint. He’s serious. He’s telling you the truth.

“No way,” you whisper, shaking your head. “That’s... that’s impossible.”

“I know,” he murmurs, taking a hesitant step closer. “It sounds insane. But everything about this, about us, is real. The pull you’ve felt, the connection—it’s not in your head. It’s because you’re... you’re my mate.”

You freeze at his words, your mind going blank. Mate. It’s a word that doesn’t belong in your reality. How could it? How could he be saying this to you? How could you be his?

“I don’t... I don’t understand,” you whisper, the words barely leaving your mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t want you to hate me,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to be scared of me, but hiding it from you, keeping this from you... it’s been tearing me apart. I need you to understand. You’re not just anyone to me. You’re everything.”

You can’t think straight, your heart beating erratically in your chest. You want to run. You want to scream. You want to slam the door in his face and pretend none of this ever happened. But something—something—keeps you standing there, frozen, listening.

“Is it true?” you ask, barely able to keep your voice steady. “What you said about being your mate... do you really mean that?”

Haechan nods slowly, the rawness in his eyes never leaving. “Yes. I do. And... I know this is crazy, but I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. You’re the one I’m meant to be with. And I know it’s all happening too fast, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t tell you.”

You swallow, feeling your throat tighten. You want to push him away, but the truth is—you can’t. You feel it too. That strange pull. That undeniable connection. Even though everything in you is screaming to run, to walk away from him and everything he’s telling you, a small part of you wants to stay.

“But... what does that mean?” you whisper. “What does it mean for us?”

Haechan takes another step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “It means that I need you. And I know this is a lot for you to take in. But you feel it too, don’t you? You’ve felt the pull. You’ve felt what’s between us. I can’t pretend anymore. You’re my mate, and that’s something I can’t deny.”

You feel your heart race at his words, but your mind refuses to catch up. You’re still trying to grasp what he’s telling you. “I don’t know what to do with this, Haechan. I don’t know how to... handle this.”

“I understand,” he says softly. “I didn’t expect you to just accept it. I’m not asking you to decide right now, but please... don’t shut me out. Please, don’t make me lose you.”

You stand there in silence, the weight of his words sinking in. Your heart aches, your mind spinning. You want to believe him, you want to make sense of everything he’s saying, but the truth is, you feel like you’re drowning.

“I... I need time,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I need to think about everything. I can’t just... I can’t just jump into this.”

Haechan’s face falls, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. “I’ll give you all the time you need. Just... don’t forget that I’m here. I’ll wait for you, no matter what.”

You nod slowly, your chest tight with the weight of everything. The space between you feels suffocating, yet you can’t bring yourself to walk away.

As Haechan turns to leave, you feel the sting of something you can’t name. You don’t know where this will go, or if you even want it to, but part of you knows—no matter how much you try to push it away, this thing between you two isn’t something you can ignore forever.

Haechan had never felt so isolated.

The moment you told him you needed space, a crack formed in his chest, widening with every minute that passed without you. He tried to pretend it didn't bother him, tried to convince himself that it was for the best. He didn't deserve you—not after everything he’d kept hidden, not after he’d shown you the truth of what he was. But it didn’t stop the hurt.

So, he did what he always did when things got too hard: he locked himself in his room, away from the world, away from the other guys. He could feel the tension in his bones, a gnawing hunger in the pit of his stomach, but it wasn’t the kind that could be filled with food. It was you. He wanted you more than he wanted anything else.

For days, he didn't leave. He didn’t eat. His thoughts were consumed by you—by the way you’d looked at him when you said you needed space, the mix of fear, confusion, and something else. You didn’t understand him, not really, and it hurt more than anything. He could still see the way you’d looked at him when he confessed. He had been so sure. But now, sitting in his dimly lit room, he wasn't so certain anymore.

Meanwhile, you weren't faring much better.

You missed him. That was the truth of it. You hated how much you missed him. Every night, you lay awake, the silence of your room pressing in on you, as your mind replayed the last time you saw him. You wanted to hate him for what he’d done, for the secrets, for everything, but you couldn’t. You still felt that pull toward him, that inexplicable attraction that gnawed at you when you were awake and haunted your dreams when you slept.

The dreams had taken a turn, and you couldn't quite explain it. You would dream of Haechan—only this time, he wasn’t the monster you feared he was. Instead, he was tender, soft in a way you hadn’t expected. He would hold you, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe, loved even. In the dreams, he wasn’t hiding anything from you. He laid himself bare in front of you, the words spilling out of his mouth in whispered confessions of how much he cared for you, how much he needed you.

You woke from those dreams more than once, your chest tight, your heart pounding, and your mind spinning with thoughts of him. How could you move forward after everything he’d said? You couldn't just pretend like things were normal again. But at the same time, you missed him more than you cared to admit.

Then one night, as you were finishing your shift, you spotted them.

The guys. Standing outside the hospital, looking like they were waiting for something, or someone. Your heart skipped a beat, and the air felt heavier. You couldn’t stop yourself from walking over to the door and pushing it open, a quiet curiosity drawing you toward them.

They looked at you with a mixture of urgency and hesitation, but it was Jeno who stepped forward, his expression serious.

“You need to come with us,” Jeno said, his voice a little softer than usual. “Haechan’s been... he’s been falling apart. He won’t talk to anyone, and he can’t stop thinking about you. He needs you, Y/N. Please. He’s suffering.”

You could feel the heat rush to your face, your heart clenching. Haechan had been suffering? The thought of him like that twisted something deep in your chest. It was clear he wasn’t handling everything well, and as much as you hated to admit it, neither were you.

“I don’t know...” You swallowed thickly, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t know if I can just—”

“Please,” Jeno interrupted, his gaze softening. “He’s in a bad place, and he won’t get better unless you see him. We’re not asking you to fix everything. We just want you to see him, to talk to him. He needs you more than you know.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, the weight of it all pressing down on you. You wanted to say no. You wanted to keep your distance, to protect yourself from whatever hurt might be waiting for you. But the truth was, you couldn't bear the thought of him being alone in his pain, not after everything he’d shared with you.

“Okay,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll go.”

The drive to his place felt like it took forever.

You stared out the window, your thoughts a jumbled mess of uncertainty, confusion, and the remnants of something that might have been affection. The other guys didn't say much as they drove, their presence quiet but comforting in its own way. You could feel the tension radiating off of them, but they didn't push you, didn't ask anything more than what they had already said.

When you finally arrived at the house, your heart pounded in your chest. You hesitated for a moment before stepping out of the car, your legs shaky. As you walked inside, you found yourself wondering if you were making the right choice.

You cautiously made your way up the stairs towards the room Mark had pointed out to you. Once you reach it, you stand perfectly still, debating on if you should even knock.

And then the door opened.

Haechan stood in the doorway, his usual cocky smile nowhere to be found. He looked different—drained, like he hadn’t been sleeping or eating. His eyes were tired, and he wore the kind of expression that made your heart ache in a way you couldn’t explain.

“You came,” he said, his voice hoarse.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. It felt like a lifetime ago that you had last seen him, and now, standing in front of him, you didn’t know what to say. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, your emotions at war with each other. He looked at you, his eyes searching, as if trying to read you, to figure out what you were feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I never should’ve kept this from you. I... I didn’t want to scare you. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You shook your head, your chest tight. “You scared me, Haechan,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t know what to believe.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I need you to know... I never wanted to hurt you. I just... I didn’t know how to handle this, how to explain what I am.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to process everything. “You’re a vampire,” you said, the words tasting strange on your tongue. “How am I supposed to handle that? How do I trust you after everything?”

“I know I don’t deserve it,” he said, his voice full of guilt. “But I need you to understand something... You’re not just anyone to me. You’re... everything. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

You could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, the weight of his words hitting you harder than you expected. You had wanted to hate him, wanted to push him away, but something in the way he looked at you, something in the way he sounded, made it impossible to deny that there was something real between you.

“You’re my mate,” he whispered, his eyes shining with a mixture of hope and fear.

You took a shaky breath, your heart racing. "You... You think I’m your mate?"

“I know you feel it too,” he said, stepping closer. “I don’t expect you to understand all at once, but I can’t deny it anymore. You’re the one I’ve been waiting for. I don’t want to lose you.”

You closed your eyes, feeling a flood of emotions, a mixture of confusion, fear, and something else—something that you couldn't ignore. You didn’t know how to move forward, but you knew one thing: you couldn’t stay away from him anymore.

“I’m scared,” you whispered.

Haechan nodded, his expression softening. “I know. I’m scared too. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Tentatively, you stepped into his arms, your body pressing against his cold, hard frame. The relief that washed over him was almost palpable, and for a brief moment, he almost crumpled under the weight of it.

But then, something shifted in him. The scent of you, so close, was intoxicating, and your proximity was making everything more intense. He suddenly became hyper-aware of how long it had been since he’d eaten. His hunger had never felt sharper.

You felt the change in him immediately. His body stiffened, his breathing shallow as he pulled away slightly, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, voice soft but filled with concern. You studied his face, your fingers grazing over his features in a gentle search for answers.

His face flushed, and he quickly looked away. “Nothing,” he said quickly, but his voice was strained, almost panicked. “It’s just... I’m just happy I can finally hold you.”

But you weren’t convinced. Your brow furrowed, a mix of concern and frustration crossing your face. “When was the last time you ate? Or—drank, I guess.”

There was a pause, a moment where he weighed his options, wondering if he could lie to you. But when he saw the genuine worry on your face, the possibility of keeping the truth from you vanished.

His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his words muffled but heavy. “The night before I last saw you,” he mumbled, as though he was ashamed.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you pushed him gently away, a frown tugging at your lips. “That was almost a week ago! Haechan, why haven’t you eaten?”

He lowered his gaze, looking almost childlike, as if trying to make himself as small as possible. “I thought you were rejecting me,” he confessed quietly, the words laced with vulnerability. “I didn’t think I deserved to... I didn’t want to take anything from you.”

You sighed, exasperation mixed with tenderness. “You starved yourself for a week over this? You’re crazy,” you said with a soft laugh. “I’m flattered, I guess, but seriously, you need to take care of yourself.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his hands tightening around you, pulling you closer. “Just a little longer... Please, I just need to be with you. I need to hold you.”

Your heart ached for him, and you gently ran your fingers through his hair, soothing him as best as you could. “Haechan...”

A hesitant silence hung between you, and then, almost in a whisper, you asked, “Would—would it help if you drank from me?”

You cringed slightly as the words left your mouth, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the awkwardness of the request.

You felt him smile against your skin, his breath warm against your neck as he chuckled softly. “Are you serious? You really don’t have to... I can get it somewhere else,” he teased, his voice low and gentle, but there was an underlying note of something else in it—gratitude, longing.

But still, your heart pounded in your chest, unsure of what to do next.

You hesitated for only a moment before finding the courage to speak again, your voice softer this time, filled with a quiet resolve. “If we’re together, you can drink from me. I trust you.”

Haechan’s body tensed at your words, his heart racing in his chest. He lifted his head slightly, his gaze searching yours for any trace of doubt. When he saw none, he slowly nodded, his lips curving into a soft, almost sad smile.

He adjusted you carefully, his hands gentle as he tilted your head slightly to the side, exposing the sensitive pulse point at your neck. His breath tickled your skin, and you could feel the heat of his body, the tension in him as he hovered, his mouth dangerously close to your skin.

You could hear him whispering softly, but the words were too faint to make out, lost in the hum of your own heartbeat. The sound of him so close, so intimate, made you shiver with anticipation and a strange sense of comfort.

Then, as if to steady himself, Haechan pressed a soft kiss to the spot where your pulse beat the strongest. The tenderness of the gesture made your breath catch in your throat. And without warning, his lips parted, and you felt the sharp sting as his fangs pierced your skin.

For a brief second, there was only pain, but it was fleeting, quickly replaced by an overwhelming wave of warmth that spread throughout your body. It was as though the world shifted, your senses heightened in a way you never thought possible. A pleasant tingling ran down your spine, making you feel lightheaded, and yet... anchored at the same time.

Haechan’s grip on you tightened slightly, but his touch remained gentle, as if trying to soothe you through the intensity of the moment. His mouth moved with slow, careful precision, drawing from you in quiet, almost reverent pulls. Each motion sent another surge of warmth flooding through you, and despite the strange circumstances, despite everything, you felt connected to him in a way you couldn't explain.

As his fangs withdrew, there was an ache, but it was nothing compared to the sensation that had built up within you. He licked at the small wound, his touch soft and tender, as though apologizing for the intrusion.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes were darker than before, but there was a new softness in his gaze, an emotion you couldn't quite place. He caressed your cheek, his touch lingering as he whispered, “Thank you... I’ll never hurt you, I promise.”

You closed your eyes, the warmth of his words wrapping around you just as much as the warmth still blooming in your veins. “I know,” you murmured, your voice shaky but certain. “I trust you, Haechan.”

And in that moment, despite all the fear, all the uncertainty, there was something undeniably real between you both. Something that neither of you could deny.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

author's note 𝟅𝟈 wow omg this one is so long. its also so bad but i rewatched twilight and had to write this. might write a continuation later on, possibly smut

masterlist.

[pshbites]

✦ DREAMS COME TRUE ━ lmk

pairing ?! mark x fem!reader. genre ?! fluff, est relationship, wedding, idk what else warnings ?! mentions of getting married synopsis ?! in which a dream of yours starts to become a reality thanks to your boyfriend wc ?! 1.3k a/n ?! nct dream debut w da loml, not much else to say sooo if u like it pls like n reblog!

here you stood, in front of all the people you held dear. to your right you had your bridesmaid and best friend, and further on in the front row were your parents. in front of you however was the love of your life, soulmate, other half, and everything in between. he looks at you with those doe eyes of his, those same eyes forming into crescents as he smiles and reaches for your hand.

the officiant stood between the two of you, reading out the typical things that were read during the wedding, but you weren’t paying attention. the only thing you could focus on was the man in front of you, smiling at you warmly. his smile could calm all of your nerves in an instant. “yn yln do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the officiant broke you out of your thoughts. you look to him and then back at mark, who only smiles at you. “i do” you say, feeling your heart swell at the words alone. “and do you, mark lee, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” he turns to look at mark and suddenly every thought is popping in your head.

what if he said no? what if he suddenly regretted the thought of marrying you and abandoned you here in front of all your friends and family. two words break you out of your thoughts, “i do” he says, smiling and gripping your hand tighter. you smile as well, feeling a wave of emotions, you were married now, to the love of your life. “you may kiss the bride” the officiant says, now smiling at the two of you. mark begins to lean in, you as well, closing your eyes…

your eyes open to see marks chest. you look up at him, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. your eyes look around your all too familiar shared bedroom. It was all a dream. you weren’t getting married, hell you werent even engaged. it was all just a silly stupid dream. mark looked to you and smiled softly, setting his phone down. “good morning baby” he spoke raspily, that same rasp he always had in his voice in the mornings. you gave him a tight lipped smile, “morning” you mumbled back. 

the problem was that you knew mark would know something was up, the two of you had been together for 3 years now. so when you laid down next to him he turned his body to face you. “whats wrong?” he looked to you with those doe eyes, oh those eyes. you turned your head and sighed softly. “just a dream babe thats all” you replied back because what else could you say? how could you tell your boyfriend of 3 years that you were suddenly yearning for marriage after never mentioning it, all because of a stupid dream. 

“cmon tell me” he frowned slightly, hand moving up to stroke your hair. your cheeks turned pink, “its so dumb mark” you mumbled, making him smile and shake his head. “nothing you say is dumb baby, now tell me” he spoke softly, he always spoke so soft with you. it’s what made him so easy to talk to. “i had a dream we were getting married, like we were at the ceremony and all” you breathed out, looking at him expecting a big reaction.

instead he just smiled and giggled a little. “thats all?” he responded, making you furrow your brows. “what do you mean thats all” you reply, smiling softly now at the situation. “its normal baby, we’ve been together so long” he shrugs, as if getting married is just no big deal! he hadn’t even popped the question, how could he be so normal about this?

“you’re being weirdly normal about this babe” you said, inching closer to him so your head was now on his shoulder as he looked up at the ceiling. his arm went under your head to pull you closer to him, his hand on the small of your back now. you rested your head against his chest once again, hearing his heartbeat, making you smile. you always felt so much closer to him when the two of you laid like this.

“i mean at least i know you want to marry me” mark speaks up, breaking the silence between you two. you furrow your brows once more, “of course i want to marry you mark is that even a question” he looks down to you, smiling softly. “where would we get married then?” he said, smiling as he spoke. you could tell he was dying to have this conversation with you at some point. “would you want a destination wedding?” you rested your chin on his chest so you could look at him properly. “depends, i would go wherever you want me to baby” he smiled, making your cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. 

mark did that often, he would say something that would make your heart swell with love and just act like he never said it. you hummed, deep in thought trying to rack through the places you would want to be married. “maybe paris” you responded, earning a small giggle from mark. “ooo the city of love” he teased, making you laugh along with him. “cmon you would love to get married there wouldn’t you?” you responded, smiling whilst talking. your cheeks would always hurt with mark because of how much you smiled. 

“okay fine paris” he rolled his eyes teasingly, “what about the ceremony, private or big and grand” he asked and you hummed in thought once more. “i think we would both want it to be private right?” you furrowed your brows, making him nod. “obviously your family and mine, and some of our closest friends” he responded, as if already having a mental guest list. 

“what about the ring?” you tilt your head, making mark stroke your hair once again. his hand always had to be playing with your hair. “gold, you dont wear silver” he responded, quickly. “wow, im surprised you knew” you replied, rather sarcastically making him laugh. “i would get you any ring you wanted, just say the word” he replied, making you smile once more.

“yeah the real question is when are you proposing?” you scoffed amusingly. you shifted your position to lay your head back on his chest, his arm holding your waist. mark laid in silence for a couple minutes, clearly deep in thought. then he said a sentence that you didn’t think you would hear this morning. “i mean we could go pick a ring now?” 

you sat up almost immediately, mark looking up at you. “what?” you said, searching in his eyes for an answer. “we’re both off of work today.. so we could go” he said once more, smiling. you smiled even bigger. truth be told this wasn’t how you imagined your proposal to go, in bed with mark, legs intertwined, bodies meshed together as one, but for some reason it was perfect, beyond that really. 

you leaned closer to him, hugging him. smiling into the crook of his neck as he giggled like a lovestruck idiot. you pulled back, looking in his eyes. “is that a yes?” he smiled even bigger if that was possible and you nodded frantically, kissing his cheek all over then moving to his lips. the two of you locked lips, each time you kissed mark it felt like the first in the best way possible.

he smiled, his hand reached up to cup your cheek as your lips moved together slowly. this kiss felt so much more different than the others, like the two of you were holding back tears due to how happy you were. you pulled back, smiling down at him. “i love you” you mumbled, looking in his eyes. “i love you even more baby” he smiled back, sitting up to kiss your cheek. dreams really could come true. 

taglist ?! @leeechin @chobunz @wensurr @ja4hyvn @livelaughluvryanreynolds @coqhee @luvyou2ooo @t1iqaa @yeehawnana @mamuljji @yourmomssneakylink @justalittle-hee @mariahxrrera @heeambi @mitmit01 @vveebee @jjongsaengzz @squiishymeow @sunghoonsperfume @ami-soph @laylasbunbunny @mochamvgz @cherrybeomm @kozumesphone @suneng @17ericas @wintertxt @bubblytaetae @silquids @heelariously @blockbusterhee @kiss4noo @hmusunoo @rriribelle @thedemonriot @srehyaps @beatrizmel-472 (bold cannot be tagged)

tagging sum nctblr moots ! (sorry for the unwanted tags) @hyuckworld @lqfiles @won4kiss

perma taglist !

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Omg at the start of episode 4 it was when oti Danny and dean woke up the camp with a musical could u do a chapter with Harry joining them and yn throwing somthing at them or something like that 😂 love this series tho I’m actualy obsessed

Early Morning Musicals.

word count - 800.

“Danny, if I was on the voice, would you turn around for me?” Oti asked after she took a sip from her green camping cup.

Harry had gotten up around fourty-five minutes ago, he had showered, brushed his teeth and used the dunny all whilst you still slept peacefully in his bed after sneaking in with him last night.

“H?” You whispered, crouching down next to his bed, you had initially thought sleeping in seperate beds would be the best choice but you had only slept in a separate bed once before and that was the night before your wedding.

He was a light sleeper so hearing the familiar nickname getting called out had him fluttering his green eyes open.

The second he saw you, he opened up his sleeping bag and you quickly shuffled inside of it, laying your head against his chest and the familiar beat of his heart lulling you into a slumber.

The last thing you remember was him pressing a gently kiss to your head and whispering how much he loved you.

And you whispered right back.

“Oh yeah,” Danny nodded. “— because I know I can help you!”

Harry snickered under his breath and Oti threw her head back in a howl.

Dean leaned his head forward. “— out of Mcfly and One Direction who was the biggest group.”

Harry frowned at Dean’s words.

He hated the fact that Dean was comparing the two groups, they both had equally good songs and Mcfly had been going a lot longer then One Direction so they had a longer legacy.

“I think we’re just as big as each other,” Harry began and smiled softly at Danny’s “— Mcfly had some amazing songs.”

Harry then brought his hand up into a fist as a fake microphone and sang into it.

“Do do do do do…do do do do do…do do do do do.”

Danny patted him on the back. “That your favourite song?”

“It’s m’wife’s,”Harry began. “— and my sister had posters of you on her wall growing up.”

Harry licked his lips. “And ‘it’s all about you’ was our wedding song.”

Danny’s eyes widened. “Oh shit yeah, me and the boys were there and I remember Dougie holding me back from grabbing the microphone and singing.”

“You would have made her day.” Harry laughed softly as he tipped his head to look at his sleeping beauty.

Deans mouth fell open. “You went to his wedding?”

Danny nodded. “And he came to mine.”

“Good morning DEAN!” Oti sang out, closing her eyes as he felt herself get into the music.

Danny smirked. “Welcome to Team Danny.”

“Thank you,” Oit bowed. “— thank you very much.”

A mischievous smile crept its way onto Deans face. “Shall we have a little sing song?”

Harry nodded his head. “M’down, got any song suggestions?”

Danny cleared his throat and they all turned there attention to him.

“I feel it in my fingers,”he closed his eyes as he sang.

Harry continued. “— I feel it in my bones.”

And then they all sang.

“I feel it in my toes.”

Dean harmonised with them. “I feel it in my toes…”

“Love is all around me,” Harry sang pushing some hair out of his face.

“The amount of times over the years of our ten year relationship I have been woken up by Harry singing is absurd,” you looked down at the camera.

“He usually wakes me up with a rendition of ‘it’s all about you’ but today it was ‘love is all around’ but it wasn’t just him.”

You looked at the camera with a serious expression on your face. “— come into the jungle they said…it will be fun they said.”

The four of them threw there hands up into the air when Oti instructed.

“You can depend…” Harry mimicked playing the guitar.

Danny wrapped an arm around his shoulder and laughed. “— hey, the guitars my thing!”

Harry threw his head back in laughter.

Harry groaned when he felt something hit him on the back of the head and turned around to see what it was.

You chucked your hat at his head.

He smirked at you. “— what was that for?”

“It’s too early for musicals.” You pouted and pulled the sleeping bag up higher.

Harry came over to you and shuffled into the bed next to you. “— but you love when I wake you up in the morning singing.”

“But that’s different,” you hummed. “— it’s just us.”

taglist: @luvr4miya @thurhomish @shanice @lomlolivia @harryshouseo1 @gem1712 @ashleighsss

[flw3rrr]

I love the idea of sevika with a retired brothel worker. Like they fell in love and sevika got her a job at the last drop or smth.

I also love the idea of mama sevika. I would love to give her a child 😭 so maybe domestic fluff around sevika her wife and their child. Lil' Families are my favorite thing

The bright side of things

Parings: Sevika x Retiredbrothelworker!reader

Warnings: Nothing major, Fluff, just full on FLUFF, No mentions of Y/n, and no description of reader. Sevika trying to seem tough around the kid, but fails. (100% let me know if anything is missed!)

Word count: 1.4k

Not proofread! sorry for any typos. I wrote this at like 2 am....oops

A/n: Thank you so much for this request. I loved this idea so much when I first read it, so I had to do this one immediately! 

(I have so many more amazing requests in my inbox, and I'll get to them soon! Thanks so much again for sending this, and I hope you enjoy it)

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

Ever since you retired from working at the brothel, life seemed more simple and comfortable. Sevika, who you met a few months ago before your retirement, had grown onto you. The way she carried herself whenever she would stride around the building made you burn inside a little.

It all got better when you were told you were booked for an hour. Dreading what kind of person you'd have to entertain or boost their ego to make them feel something, but with a big surprise when your face met with Sevika's, she was leaning back, legs spread open as a cigar sat on her lips. That's how everything started for the both of you.

Sevika offered you a job at the last drop when you first told her of your retirement; it got tiring and exhausting physically and mentally. Your heart melted at her offer and took it immediately. It's something you never in your life thought you would work at, but what can you expect? It's a way better job than working at a brothel, body sore and no break.

You always remember to thank her whenever possible; Sevika isn't the type to show affection in public, so you'd always kiss her on the cheek and lips as a way of thanking her. Sharing each sweet moment with one another in your new shared apartment. The undercity wasn't some fairytale place to grow up, but with her presence, it made you forget everything.

Sevika likes that you took her offer on working at the last drop. She now gets to keep an eye on you, especially when she plays poker, and in the quick moment whenever you'd hand her a drink, your eye's lock on hers every time you hand her the glass, a soft and sweet look. Of course her gaze locks in yours in return, but never softens; she can't let half of the undercity that she's practically on her knees for you.

And this is where the both of you are now, still together and head over heels for one another. The two of you sat on the couch that sat in the small living room; you held a sketchbook, drawing random doodles, never being the professional type, though. Sevika just watches you making a game of her own on trying to guess what you're making or stares very confusingly at it. Everything was quiet and calm until a thump was heard from one of the bedroom doors.

The sound of feet padding against the wooden floor became louder until a small girl appeared with a huge smile on her face. Immediately she decided to join the both of you on the couch, but rather than sit, she began to jump and speak very fast.

"Can I please, please, pleaseee come to work with you, Momma? I want to make drinks with you." Speaking so fast, neither you nor Sevika could comprehend a single word. Glancing at Sevika for a quick moment and back to the child before stopping her from jumping on the couch to avoid any possible injuries.

"Selani, remember what we both said about jumping on the couch? You could get hurt easily." Her smile dropped as she looked at Sevika, who spoke about 'the couch wasn't cheap.' Selani gave a nod in return before sitting herself down onto the couch. Both you and Sevika took Selani in after you both found her alone with nobody near; it broke your heart badly, and with not much nagging, you both quickly became her adoptive parents.

You could tell Sevika cared for her just as much as you did, catching moments between the both of them, Selani play fighting with Sevika, who obviously would go easy on the kid knowing her strength would accidentally crush or break a bone. Or whenever Sevika's arm needed to be repaired or a quick fix, Selani was standing right by her, being the best helper.

Slowly shaking your head, sitting down by Sevika once more, both of you would take Selani with you to the last drop, as you had nobody to watch over her. Thank goodness for Jinx sometimes, but you never wanted to pressure her watching over some kid, but she always proves you wrong when Selani is gone, in seconds walking away with Jinx to do whatever.

Sevika did whatever Silco wanted her to do, whether it be cleaning up one of his messes with people or looking scary behind him. But she is graced with time to herself, which is usually at the table playing poker. You'd always say her playing poker was a show just for you because you got to watch her from afar enjoying the smirk her face always held as the other players held a look of defeat.

"You lucked out, kid; none of us are going today." Sevika spoke up, breaking you out of your train of thought. Selani frowned at the news of not going out. She always wanted to be out exploring or at the last drop, whether it be with Jinx or sneaking away and somehow finding Silco and bothering him; he seemed to not mind, you hoped.

"What? Why not?!" Crossing her little arms in frustration, both of her eyebrows slanted. That is the start of a tantrum you've grown to learn from the years you took her in--not fun at all, you remembered. It took both of you time to learn how to be parents to a child, having no prior experience, though Sevika had a tiny bit from when Jinx was younger.

Sevika let out a huge sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose before looking back up at Selani. "Because we both got the day off, and you usually take those for granted, trust me, kid." Selani's gaze just stared at the both of you; confusion covered her face. The both of you never had a day off, so why now all of a sudden? Adjusting your body to sit more straight, you faced her directly, a soft smile placed on your face knowing it's good to talk to her straightforwardly with a few restrictions but to help her feel more validated and that she had your attention.

"It's a good thing not to worry, Selani; it just means me and Sevika have the whole day with you to play or cook, even just relax if you wanted." As soon as those words left your mouth, her face lit up as if she saw a whole pile of candy with a sign that said free. "Really!" A toothy grin appeared with one missing front tooth. Giving her a nod, she immediately shot up, running over to the both of you.

Once she was in front of you both, you could tell many ideas of games were filling her little mind. Taking both of your hands, making you stand. "Do you guys have any game ideas?" Selani asked, pride filled within you, teaching her to always ask her friends if they had any ideas before doing all of hers to ensure a fair game. Within a second, Sevika tapped her shoulder before dragging you away, running. "Your it!" is what you had managed to comprehend.

"That's cheating!" Selani yelled, her laugh heard behind you as you both ran. Now ending up in your shared room with Sevika, you purposely slowed down, letting Selani catch up and tap you. Quietly, you both teamed up to get Sevika and corner her. She went in the other room first, then you followed behind.

Immediately, Selani ran at Sevika, jumping on her; following Selani's actions, avoiding hitting them both, the three of you land onto the bed. Laughter could be heard throughout the whole apartment. And if it was heard by anyone, they would only think how happy you all are. This was your safe spot, where happiness is the love of your life and beloved child. 

Sevika carefully flipped Selani over the bed, and a game of play fighting began. You watched to make sure they both didn't get hurt, and to your surprise, Selani pulled the kick method. "You called what I did cheating. What you're doing is cheating!" She joked, a smile plastered on her face as she managed to get ahold of Selani.

In a moment, Selani whispered something to Sevika, and a grin grew as they both slowly turned to look at you. "Uh oh, what's going on?" With a blink of an eye, they both grabbed you, landing back onto the bed, Selani tickled you on your stomach.

Even if your laughs filled the room, your thoughts only held on how much you adored this moment and would cherish it forever.

Life for you got automatically better and brighter once they both entered your life, and you'd never trade it away.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: All you wanted was for Ben to have a nice Thanksgiving, but when your daughter brings her new boyfriend over, all hell brakes loose! This one-shot takes place in You Call It Madness But I Call It Love universe! Reader is described as "Curvy."

Tropes: Fluff, Awkward Situation Over The Holidays, Bringing A Boyfriend Home For The First Time.

Word Count: 9.1K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Heated Kiss (a few), Sexual Innuendo, Implied Sex, Flirting, References to Sex (it happens quite a bit), Ben loves his wife, Ben REALLY loves his wife. Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). SOFT Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy might be a little OC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: Truthfully this is a lot of fluff and soft Ben, having a proper family Thanksgiving (well sort of). Really, just Ben showing how much he loves his wife... AND I had this completely unhinged idea forever ago, but everyone say thank you to @anna6307 for reminding me to write it. ❤️

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy POV

Ben reaches out his arm to your side of the bed as he wakes up without opening his eyes, but his hand finds cold empty sheets instead of your soft warm body.

His eyes blink open, the light from the open windows at the foot of the bed brilliant as he looks out at the view of the backyard, seeing the peaks of the thick trees that point upwards to the sky and just a glimpse of the sea beyond, sparkling in the early morning light.

It was Thanksgiving, Ben's first since he came back from Russia and despite his numerous insistences that "it wasn't a big deal" you weren't listening to him.

Honestly, what was new? Ben thought to himself with a sigh.

Holidays for him were always bittersweet.

When he was a child and in his teen years he spent the holidays at the elegant parties your parents threw in your family home sneaking eggnog and sips of whiskey from the flask in his coat while the two of you avoided his plastered father, and while he was with you he had a good time, but it was the quiet that came when he went home to the cold shell of his father's house that left a chill behind.

Truthfully, Ben would have just stayed at the boarding schools during the holidays if he hadn't been so eager to get back to you. He liked going to your family's parties, liked standing next to you and taking the brunt of your mother's disapproving glances. When he wasn't there he knew that she turned those looks on you and knew that she was less likely to make a comment about how you looked when he was a worthy target, and he was more than happy to take it, if it meant that he would get to see you smile and enjoy yourself.

Ben didn't care much for holidays, hadn't since his mother died, but he knew how much you loved them and he knew that you had sacrificed that love for them when you came with him to become a supe.

Your mother had banned you from your home the minute you told her that you weren't going to marry Howard and that you were going with Ben, and despite your father's insistences, your mother refused to let you return for Thanksgiving and for Christmas. Which meant that you were left with nowhere to celebrate and nowhere to go for the holidays you loved so much.

Ben did everything he could to make sure that the two of you celebrated in your own way. The early Thanksgivings were spent eating turkey sandwiches in Central Park, while Ben tried his upmost to make you smile, but the later ones were spent at the lavish parties that Legend threw. And no matter how many women tried to pull Ben away from you, he stayed beside you making sure that you were having a good time, but even at those parties you never seemed as happy as you had when you were back home in Philadelphia or when it was just the two of you.

It always made a sick feeling settle in the pit of his stomach, because it made him believe that you regretted coming with him.

But today would be different.

It would be the first Thanksgiving that Ben had spent with you since he left. You told him that Rosemary, Lou, and you always spent the holidays in the house in Maine and Ben didn’t complain. He liked the house and he liked how happy you seemed there, how you seemed to leave any anxiety you had back in the city.

And despite all the other Thanksgivings the two of you had spent at Legend's blowouts soaked with booze, Ben saw that you were genuinely excited and happy this year to celebrate, and it made him feel like he'd done something right for once.

But of all the things that Ben had learned about you after he came back, the fact that you liked to cook and knew how was still astounding to him. Sure, he had some dated ideas about what women's roles were, but when you'd still been a supe with him in the past Ben hadn't seen you cook once. The only time you'd gone into the kitchen in the past was to make coffee.

And hearing that you were going to cook Thanksgiving dinner almost made Ben start to look for pigs flying around outside.

He and you had come to the house in the Maine countryside early to get everything set up while Rosemary, Lou, Ryan, and Rosemary's new boyfriend were coming today to stay for a week. Ryan's school didn't give him the full week off, and Rosemary's boyfriend was working up until Thanksgiving day.

Ben frowned when he thought about Rosemary bringing home a man with her for Thanksgiving. He already didn't like the thought that Rosemary was bringing some random guy around Lou that Ben didn't know anything about and despite Ben not being around for forty years, he didn’t like the thought of some creep dating his daughter. Ben might not have been a huge influence in Rosemary's life, but the thought that some asshole was just screwing around with her made Ben furious. He knew exactly what men wanted from women and like hell some dipshit was going to get it from his daughter.

When he told you that you'd kissed him on the cheek and told him that he was "being cute" and that Rosemary was old enough to make her own decisions. But at least you hadn't seemed too keen on meeting the guy either.

When Ben had asked you if you knew anything about Rosemary's boyfriend, you'd said that Rosemary hadn’t told you too much, wouldn't even tell you his name because she didn't want you to "stalk him" so all you knew was that he worked at Supe Affairs, and that he was nice. Lou had piped up and said that whoever this guy was brought by flowers for Rosie each time he showed up and always made sure to bring Lou a sunflower because he knew how much she liked them.

Ben had tried to get Lou to tell him who this guy was or at least what his name was by bargaining with ice cream, but Lou had refused, said that she "made her mommy a promise" and that she "wasn't a snitch." Ben was proud of her for holding her ground like that and took her out for ice cream, but it didn't make him any less frustrated when he tried to figure out who it was that Rosie was bringing here for Thanksgiving.

Ben was racking his mind trying to remember a moment that he would have seen her and her boyfriend together at work, but Ben hadn't seen Rosemary talking to anyone new at the office, just the team.

Not to mention, Ben didn't want to be trapped in the house with the guy, listening to him rail Ben's daughter. There were moments where Ben wished he didn't have supe hearing, and that certainly seemed like a moment he wouldn't want it.

Rosemary felt the same way of course. She also had supe hearing and had woken up in the middle of the night the last time she stayed with Ben and you at the Maine house and had witnessed something that she said was "grotesque." Personally, Ben was no longer embarrassed about that kind of thing, not to mention he liked how loud you were and how loud he could make you, but you certainly hadn't been able to look your daughter in the eye for a week when you realized exactly what she'd heard.

And then you had made the rule of no sex while Rosemary was around.

Ben hated that rule and it was difficult for him. He didn't like going too long without touching you, not to mention he liked it immensely when you touched him, so last night Ben had tried to get it all out of his system and give you a little bit of stress relief from all the meal prep and cleaning. He hated seeing you so stressed.

Of course the rule also meant that Ben could tease you as long as he wanted to. And that usually lead to you dragging him out to the car to run “errands,” when the two of you ended up parked a few miles away running errands in the front seat of his car.

The window was open, allowing the chill in the wind to creep through the opening, the leaves on the trees beyond were burnished gold, red, and orange, and Ben could hear the crashing of the waves along the rocky shore.

He enjoyed being here as much as you did. Walking along the shore holding your hand, barefoot while the waves lapped at his feet, sitting on the couch in the den with you in his lap listening to music, watching you paint in the screened in back porch that you'd turned into your studio while he read his newspaper, and falling asleep with his body curled protectively around yours pressing kisses into your bare shoulder as you drifted off with a soft smile, holding on tight to the arm that was wrapped around your waist. He didn't think that his life would ever look like this, sure he'd thought about what it would look like to be with you, but he didn't know how he'd gotten it and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Ben turns his gaze to your side of the bed to confirm what he already knew, that you're not there and he sighed.

Ben didn't like waking up without you, he also hated going to sleep without you, but waking up in an empty bed only made him think of all the mornings that he spent away from you, the mornings when he was away on a film shoot and to remedy how much he missed you he called just to hear your voice, other mornings when he'd wake up to a cold bed after whoever he'd slept with had left, and other mornings from his youth where he was away at another boarding school and he missed the weight of your body next to his.

Usually as you slept, you would subconsciously curl into him, and he would wake up with you on his chest, your head over his heart, your left arm curved over his torso to hold him closer to you. He liked that, because even if you woke up before him you didn't move. Instead you would stay there, pressing a kiss over his heart, running your hand up to stroke his cheek, or push his hair back because you know how much he likes it. It was a nice way to wake up.

With you there, smiling at him, looking at him as if he's all you see, as if you can see through him, through bones and flesh into his soul. And you never look away no matter how much you see. You accept him as he is, all the parts that Ben worked so hard to hide from the rest of the world like his father taught him, the other parts that he isn't proud of, and yet you love him.

You'd worn many titles over the years. His best friend, his teammate, the woman he loves, and now his wife. And at every stage, every ascension to a new name place, Ben still didn't deserve you and everything you did for him.

He never had and he knew that he never will. He'd never met someone so happy to love him, so eager to give him all of you even after all the shit he'd done to you, and so excited to spend the rest of your life with him. Ben's eyes drop to the ring on his left hand and he smiles to himself. It had been three months since the two of you stood in front of a small group of people, you radiant in white and holding a bouquet of lavender listening to him make a promise to love you and protect you for as long as he lived and him listening to you promise the same thing. It was the one thing the two of you should have done ages ago, but all Ben cared about was that he had you, that he wasn't going to lose you ever again, and that you were his and wanted to be his for the rest of your life.

And he couldn't have been happier. Ben had never been this happy in his entire life and he knew that it had everything to do with you.

Funny, if someone had asked him in the past if he was happy he would have said yes without hesitation, but now he knew that he wasn't. This was happiness, being with you, spending the rest of his life making up for the past, making you smile, and feeling the unconditional love you had for him each day as you eased any worries he had about expressing too much, when he'd spent his life expressing the bare minimum of emotions that he usually locked away.

But waking up in bed without you made him unhappy.

He frowned and sat up, the blankets falling away from his bare chest with the movement as he looks around the room for signs that you were there, but the bathroom door stands ajar and the bedroom door is cracked open.

Ben focuses his hearing and hears you downstairs banging around in the kitchen. He sighs again.

How long has she been down there?

He thinks with a groan getting out of bed and trying to find his sweatpants. Ben wasn't sure where you'd thrown them when you ripped them off of him last night, but after he finds them halfway under the dresser he makes his way downstairs. His fingers run through his hair, brushing it back away from his face, his bare feet padding down the hardwood stairs.

The smell of turkey, fresh bread, cinnamon, and cloves wafted up the staircase and there was a warmth in the large open kitchen that came from the oven and from the wide open bay windows above the sink where the rising sun bathed the room in a honeyed glow. Ben could see you swaying to music where you stood at the sink, trying to wash some of dishes that were stacked high over the lip of the marble countertops.

You had flour smudged on your right cheekbone, and stuffing in your hair that was tied back from your face with a bandana and you were wearing one of his oversized shirts and the pair jeans that Ben loved on you, the ones that hugged your curves just the right way to drive him crazy.

Truthfully, Ben was happy that you were getting more comfortable wearing things that actually showed your curves again, especially after all the years you'd spent being swaddled in monstrosities of lace, choked by shape-wear, and stuffed into clothes only created to hide the curves that drove Ben mad whenever he saw them. Even in your years as a supe, you'd been hesitant to wear anything form fitting, still feeling the cold disapproval of your mother almost decades after she'd been put in the ground. If anything Ben liked how curvy you were, he liked that you had just a little more that he could hold on to and squeeze.

And like hell Ben was going to let his wife feel insecure in her own body, especially in one that made him feel like he was a damn teenager again whenever he got his hands on you.

There were remnants of potato peels, bundled plastic wrap, and tops of carrots scattered like fallen leaves over the kitchen island. Not one piece of countertop was spared by the destruction of your preparation for Thanksgiving, only sweeping chaos left behind in your wake.

Ben expected that. Your art studio back at the apartment was the same way, and whenever he teased you about it, you'd only roll your eyes at him and say that "there was no point in a creative space without having a little chaos."

The speaker in the kitchen is blasting one of your favorites, "You're All I Need To Get By" by Aretha Franklin. Ben personally didn't like her work, thought that she catered more to a feminine audience, but he knew how much you loved her. He had taken you to a private concert once for one of your birthdays, sat through the entire thing trying not to  grimace, but each time he almost did, he'd look over at you and see how happy you were and he'd smile instead.

You were singing it to yourself, swaying your hips along with the melody in a way that reminded Ben of exactly what you'd done with them last night.

He couldn't understand how he got so lucky and again he wondered how he ended up here with you.

Ben leaned against the doorway to watch for a few minutes, trying not to make a face when you'd screech. You were never the best singer in the world and Ben had been subject to your singing more than once in all the time he'd known you, more often on nights when the two of you would go out for drinks at the bar down the street from your childhood home in Philadelphia. You would belt songs as loud as you could on the drunken walk home, wobbling on your feet, while Ben tried his best to keep you walking in a straight line and keep you steady to avoid you falling on your face and busting your lip open on the curb.

He steps forward into the room, creeping up behind you, reaching out to grab you when-

"If you're trying to scare me that's not going to work." You say, scrubbing at one of the stainless steel bowls in your hand with a scrub brush.

Ben snorts and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. You smelled like him again. "Didn't think you'd be able to hear me over the screeching."

"What screeching?"

"You trying to sing."

"I don't think you're exactly Frank Sinatra."

"Fuck, I miss that bastard. And the Rat Pack, we had some good times-"

"Yes. I remember something about you destroying a suite in Vegas and me sweet talking a cop to get you out of it." You hesitate, pulling your hands out from under the warm water. "Sinatra was quite the charmer, voice like velvet, not too bad looking and-"

"Just like me."

You laugh and lean back into his embrace, while Ben begins to sway you to the music. "I'm not too sure about that."

"Hmm." Ben sighs into your shoulder. "Why weren't you in bed when I woke up?"

"I'm sorry." You turn to kiss him on his bearded cheek, lingering for a minute longer in a way that makes Ben feel his heart thud an extra beat.

"What time did you get up?"

"5."

"Why the fuck have you been up for six hours?"

"Because I had to start cooking."

Ben can see the anxiety thrumming beneath your skin, settling over your shoulders, at the thought of how much you had to do. He didn't like it so he began to press his lips along the slope of your neck, feeling you sigh and relax in his arms as he pulls you closer against his body.

Fuck, you felt good.

You were always warm and soft in all the places that Ben was muscular and hard. You always fit so perfectly against him, in a way that made Ben refuse to believe that anyone else did. You were his in every possible way, had been his in every way since you were kids even if he was too afraid to admit it.

"I had to chop the carrots, boil the potatoes, make the pumpkin pie, stuff the turkey-" You continue with a sigh.

"You've been talking about stuffing that damn turkey for two days. Why don't you let me stuff something for a change?" Ben murmured, beginning to kiss down your throat, and moving his hands that were on your waist up under the oversized shirt you were wearing, trailing over your warm skin.

"You're a disgusting old man." You groan, but Ben can hear the smile in your voice without opening his eyes.

"You knew that when you married me Sweetheart." Ben smirks.

"Unfortunately."

"I think it's what you love most about me."

"No, I'm pretty sure it's how humble you are." You laugh at your joke and Ben squeezes you in response.

Ben moves his hand higher underneath your shirt stopping just below your bra, nibbling on your earlobe. "Come on Sweetheart, I want to have you one more time before Rosemary shows up."

"Ben-" You groan, your hands braced against the counter he'd pinned you against. "I can't I still have to-"

"By the time you finish arguing we could already be getting to the fun part."

You smirk at him over your shoulder. "Maybe I think the arguing is the fun part."

"Oh really?" Ben feels his smirk grow and this time he doesn't stop his hand from reaching past the edge of your bra and you gasp softly.

Ben couldn't get enough of the way you responded to him when he touched you, the sounds you made into his mouth when he made love to you, the little gasps, cries, and moans of his name that he replayed for himself whenever he was away on a mission and the ones he loved to recreate when he returned home to you. "Are you saying that you didn't have fun at all yesterday? Or last night?"

"No-" You say, trying to keep your voice even, but Ben can feel the tremor that courses through your body when the memory of what the two of you did comes roaring back.

"You're lying." He breathes into your throat. "You know I can tell when you lie."

"Ben really-"

Ben fits his lips over your mouth,  swallowing whatever excuse you were going to say whole. “As much as I like you in my clothes, I think it’s time you take this off.” He tugs at the bottom of your shirt.

"Ben I've still got to-" You try again, but this time Ben begins to suck a mark just under your jawline, next to the other one he left last night.

He liked doing that, as if the ring on your finger wasn't enough, Ben felt a primal urge to mark you so anyone who sees you knew that you were taken, and that you were his. He also knew that you liked it too. He could practically taste how much you wanted him against your lips, could feel it buzzing through your skin everywhere he was touching you. Ben loved that after all these years, he still had the same effect on you.

You sigh, reaching back to tangle your still wet hand in his hair. "You're fighting dirty." You say in a pout.

"By now you should know it’s the only way I know how sweetheart." Ben laughs against your skin, and he can feel your resolve begin to waver.

You groan again, tightening your hands in his hair and pushing your body back against his chest as his hands roam over the curves he loves so much.  "Fine." You mutter in utter defeat. "You get ten minutes, but if anything burns, Benjamin I swear I'm going to divorce you."

"I'd only convince you to marry me again doll." Ben chuckles. "And I only need 7."

*Exactly 27 minutes later*

Reader POV

"I'm going to get the divorce papers as soon as I take this turkey out of the oven! You said 7 minutes Benjamin!" You shout reaching for the oven mitts that you left haphazardly on the counter before Ben dragged you back to the bedroom.

Well, dragged is a relative term given how he carried you up the stairs with your mouth locked with his and your hands tangling in his hair.  And you might have complained about how long the two of you were upstairs, but you don't think that you would ever complain about anything Ben did to you.

You couldn't. Not when you still couldn't quite feel your legs and could feel your heartbeat thudding hard against your ribcage while you tried to catch your breath.

You take a step on shaky legs towards the oven, but Ben intercepts. "Let me do that doll." He gives you a knowing smirk that makes you weak in the knees. "Wouldn't want you to drop it."

"I hate you." You mutter under his breath when Ben reaches in to pull out the turkey, not bothering to put the over mitts on. You didn't need them either, but you liked using the oven mitts, they made you feel normal.

"I love you too sweetheart." He winks as he puts the turkey on top of the crowded stove. "Looks good."

"I love how surprised you are that I can cook."

"You weren't exactly Julia Child before I went to Russia." He says surveying the different foil covered dishes on top of the stove.

"I had to learn how to cook after I had Rosemary, toddlers get kinda hangry if you don't feed them, but Melanie helped. Taught me everything I know. I owe her so much." You smile at the memory of the older woman who welcomed you into her home when you felt so lost after Ben broke your heart and was taken to Russia. The woman who was more of a mother to you than your own flesh and blood. It was Melanie who brought you back from the darkness that threatened to consume you in the wake of what Ben had yelled at you at the premiere after you walked in on him and Countess.

Something that you no longer stung as much as it had. Ben had made it up to you, and despite how many times you told him not to feel guilty over what had happened, and that you had forgiven him, he refused to stop making it up to you everyday. And you'd never been so happy in your entire life.

"I do too." Ben murmurs pulling you close to him again and dragging his fingers over the plains of your face to push back your hair.

You knew that he still felt guilty for not being there when Rosemary was a kid, but you believed that the relationship that he was building with your daughter was making it better. Although it had a rocky start, Ben and Rosemary were getting along a lot better than they had been. You attributed that to how close they were working together, but you knew that Ben was becoming more optimistic about their relationship.

 "And why couldn't Rosemary help cook some of this shit? Why does it have to be just you?" Ben frowns.

“She’s bringing some things. I just didn’t want to make her bring too much because she’s got Ryan and Lou.”

“And that asshole.”

“We don’t know he’s an asshole.” You snort.

“He’s a guy.”

“You’re a guy, Ben.”

He frowns, and you couldn’t help but think that it was cute how protective he was acting. “So? He’s probably some pompous jerk.”

“It’s her life. And trust me, after everything that happened with Charlie, Rosemary is definitely making sure that  he’s not a creep.”

“But why won’t she tell us who the fuck he is?”

You press your lips together into a tight line. You’d also thought it was weird how close lipped Rosemary was being about the guy she’d been dating, but whenever you tried to bring him up she refused to talk about him. You didn’t understand why she was being so secretive, but the last time you'd asked her why she wouldn't tell you she said that she didn't want you to "scare him away."

Honestly, it's like she thinks I'm Ben or something. And I was nothing but supportive about Charlie and look what happened to him!

But you trusted her to make a good decision, figured that everything that happened with Charlie made her more wary about who she fell into bed with.

You fight the wave of nausea when you think about Rosemary having sex with her boyfriend.

Please let them not have sex in the house.

You think with a shudder.

The last thing you wanted to hear was Rosemary and her boyfriend having sex in the bedroom next to Ben and yours. It had been embarrassing enough when she heard Ben and you the last time, before you instituted the rule that Ben barely followed.

To be fair you hated that rule as much as he did.

 Of course, you knew they were sleeping together. Whenever she'd come home late from a date and practically floated into her apartment on nights Ben and you babysat, you could smell him all over her.

What was even weirder was that the smell was familiar, but you couldn’t place it.

But you liked seeing how happy she was, she deserved that after everything that happened with Charlie.

“I don’t know, she probably doesn’t want to say so you won’t show up and do whatever this is that you're doing." You reply.

"And what the fuck do you think I'm doing?"

You smile and pinch his cheek, making his frown deepen. "Being absolutely adorable."

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? You are. I love it that you're going full protective dad mode." You smile.

"Don't tempt me doll."

"Oh baby." Your smile turns more into a smirk, working your hands up his bare chest and feeling a groan vibrate through the palms of your hands. "We both know how much you love it."

Ben's eyes darken in a way that reminds you of exactly what the two of you had just been doing that almost resulted in the burning of the turkey.

You arch up to kiss him, but right before your lips touch his, you pull back. "Go get dressed. I'll be up in a bit to change before they get here-"

"I was going to wait for you to do that." Ben's eyes are still dark when you turn to the stove to find the meat thermometer.

"Why?" You ask leaning over the turkey to inspect it.

Ben pulls your body back into his. "Because I figure you're going to need a shower and I thought we might as well save some water."

"You're insatiable."

"Only for you sweetheart." Ben's lips press against your ear, the warmth of his breath making goosebumps skitter over your arms. "We both know how much you love it." He murmurs using your own words against you.

One of these days, he's going to make me spontaneously combust.

But you did love it. You loved every minute you spent with him, loved the way he looked at you, loved the way he touched you, and loved the way Ben made you feel loved. The way you imagined this life with Ben when you were younger, was nothing compared to the real thing.

"Give me thirty minutes." You whisper kissing him once more.

"I'll be waiting."

Reader POV

You fidget with the collar of the oversized black sweater, hoping that the edge is thick enough to cover the collection of marks on your neck that Ben left behind, while listening to the car come to a stop at the end of the long driveway outside the house.

Ben catches your hand to pull it away from the top of your sweater. "Why bother hiding it Sweetheart?" He purrs with a smirk, his dark hair still wet from the shower and hanging into green eyes that shine with mischief. Just as they did when you were kids, and even after all of these years, it still does the same thing to you. It still makes your heart beat an extra beat, still makes a warm tingle travel down your spine, and still makes your chest just a little tight.

"Because I'd like to not be covered in hickeys when I meet Rosemary's boyfriend for the first time."

He shrugs. "It's not like Rosemary doesn't know what we were doing before she showed up. He might as well learn early. And you never try to cover the marks you leave on me-"

"Because most of the ones I leave on you aren't as visible when you're wearing this many clothes." You roll your eyes, but give his hand a squeeze where it still holds yours. "And aren't I a little old to be having hickeys?"

"You're never too old for something like that doll." Ben leans down towards you, the mischief flickering into something else, morphing into the love that he'd shown you the minute he came back into your life. "Especially not when you keep me young."

"Well, you are older than me."

"Only by a few months."

"It makes all the difference. How does it feel to be old and rickety?"

Ben chuckles under his breath. "You didn't think I was old an rickety earlier."

The front door knob jiggles, stopping whatever you were going to respond with when Lou comes running into the room like a shot out of a cannon.

“Grandpa!” She crows and runs past you to leap into Ben’s arms.

As adorable as you thought it was how much that Lou loved Ben and how much Ben loved her, you couldn’t help but be a little bit jealous that Lou didn't say hi to you first. But the look on Ben's face when he hugs his granddaughter back makes all of that go away.

You remember how afraid you were to tell Ben about Lou and Rosemary, but each time you saw how genuinely happy Ben was to spend time with his granddaughter made your heart feel like it would burst. Because all you saw was the man you loved and the boy you grew up with. There wasn’t one shred of the persona Ben adopted as Soldier Boy and it made you love him more.

“Hey Louie.” Ben smiles picking up Lou so he’s not bending down. “How’s my favorite girl?”

“I missed you Ben!” Her little arms hug around his neck tight.

“Guess she didn’t miss me.” You mutter under your breath giving Ben a pointed look.

He only smirks at you over Lou’s shoulder.

“I missed you too grandma!” Lou says, her own supe hearing picking up what you whispered. “I just figured that Ben needs more hugs.”

“And why is that?” You laugh.

“Because you’ve been here longer and Ben has missed out on so many.” She reasons hugging Ben tighter.

The look in Ben's eyes when she says that shifts to something softer as he holds her close to him, hugging her back as tight as he dares. “Thank you honey.”

Ryan comes in next, holding a brown paper bag that must hold the sides that you asked Rosemary to bring with her, but she and her boyfriend still haven't made an appearance in the kitchen.

"Hey grandma. Happy Thanksgiving." Ryan smiles. "Where should I put this?"

"Just on the table is fine, but can I have a hug. I'm feeling a little left out." You joke throwing another glance at Ben and Lou.

Ryan hugs you half-heartedly. He was getting into his teen years, so things like hugs were always going to be a little awkward for a while, but you didn't care.

You liked that he was adjusting to his new life. He'd made a few friends at the school he attended, and Butcher would come by to make sure that Ryan was still doing his homework and to hang out with him.

You felt a little bad that Butcher would be spending Thanksgiving alone, you'd asked Ryan to invite him to come with them so Butcher could have a place to go, but Ryan had said that Butcher had "plans" and you'd missed the smile that Ryan hid when you turned away.

"Where's Rosemary?" You ask him when he pulls away.

"She's getting the bags."

"And you're not going to help her?" Ben raises an eyebrow at the teenager.

"But she's a supe-"

"That doesn't matter, go on." Ben nudges his head in the direction of the front door, a stern look on his face.

"But-"

"Don't argue with Ben." You say, gently pushing Ryan towards the door.

"Fine." Ryan mutters.

"I can help too Grandpa!" Lou cries, squirming so Ben knows that she wants to be put down.

"No sweetie." Ben puts her down, but she keeps a tight hold on his hand. "The only thing I want you to worry about is giving your grandma a hug."

Lou grabs on to you so tight that you're sure there's a bruise somewhere, but you don't care. You love your granddaughter even more than Ben, which was saying a lot, and Ben didn't need to know that.

I mean… he already knows.

"Happy Thanksgiving Grandma." Lou breathes.

"Happy Thanksgiving baby." You say, holding on to her.

You were happy to see your granddaughter, but you could feel the thrum of anxiety beneath your skin. You were a little nervous about meeting Rosemary's boyfriend. Maybe it was because you knew absolutely nothing about him, but for some reason it was making you more anxious than making a giant dinner for your entire family.

"Hey mom. Hey Ben. Happy Thanksgiving." Rosemary smiles at the two of you, holding a giant multicolored cornucopia of flowers. You'd told her that you wanted a centerpiece and despite being an artist for most of your life, Rosemary was better at merging together different flowers and textures to create truly awe-inspiring centerpieces.

You didn't know she did it, but each time she managed to surprise you with something that altered your brain chemistry.

"Happy Thanksgiving." You pull her in for a one armed hug. "Wow you've really outdone yourself with this one." Your eyes skate over the Sunflowers, red Daisies, orange Mums, and dark blue delphiniums in her other hand. There was a strong smell of cinnamon in the air, coming from the looped cinnamon sticks that she had woven in around the blooms.

"Thanks." She beams.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Ben asks, leaning against the counter. He'd be the picture of casual if you couldn't see the frown on his face, that he didn't even bother to hide.

"He's helping Ryan with the bags." She steps around you to move the centerpiece into the dining room, squeezing Ben on the arm as she walks past.

It makes you smile to yourself. Rosemary and Ben still had a long way to go before she was up for hugging him, but you could see that she was trying to get more used to him being around. You think that Ben marrying you helped. Not that Rosemary was old fashioned, but you think it solidified something in her head that Ben wasn't going anywhere and that he wasn't going to leave you again. You also think that Rosemary seeing the gentle way Ben was around Lou helped too, that Rosemary saw another side of him other than the side she'd seen in all those ridiculous movies, music videos, and pictures of Soldier Boy she'd seen growing up.

But you could also see the way it was making Ben feel better. When they first met he had been so discouraged by that way Rosemary treated him, but now when they spent time around one another you could see how happy Ben was and it warmed your heart.

You wanted Ben to feel like he belonged, it was his family too, not just yours. And every day you saw how Ben was starting to believe that more and more.

Ryan comes back into the room, loaded down with bags, but the man who comes in through the front door behind him isn't Rosemary's boyfriend, it's Billy Butcher.

He stops just inside the doorway, looking from you to Ben with an odd expression, as if he's not sure what to say.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Ben frowns at the man.

Ben barely tolerated Butcher, after missions he would come home and complain to you about something that Butcher ordered him to do. Personally you never thought that Butcher had Ben do anything that sounded like something Ben should complain about, but you knew that Ben had always had a problem following orders.

Weirder still was that Ben often said when he exploded on Butcher, it was Rosemary who would step in to try and calm Ben down. You didn't know why that was.

Honestly, you didn't hate Butcher, but you were wary of him. You thought he knew too much about your family and were often worried that he would sell all of you out for the right price. It did make you happy to see Ryan so happy with Butcher, but you weren't sure if you could trust him. He was one of the only people who knew what Lou could really do, one of the only people who knew what your power really was, and one of the only people who knew that Lou was the one who took down Homelander.

But at the same time you were happy that he was there. He was the closest connection that Ryan had to his mother, and you were glad that Ryan could have another person in his life who loved him. You'd seen what had happened with your own son and what happened to him when no one loved him. And you didn’t want that to happen to Ryan.

You elbow Ben hard in the stomach.

"What'd you do that for?" Ben asks.

Butcher clears his throat to say something, but you speak before he can.

"Please ignore Ben. I'm so glad you decided to join us. I was worried that you were just going to spend Thanksgiving holed up in your apartment. Ryan always talks about you when you're not here."

"Uh-" He clears his throat again and it's the first time that you’d ever heard him sound nervous.

You smile widely to make him feel more comfortable, taking his awkwardness as a reaction to what Ben said. "It's a good thing too, because I think I made way too much food."

"Right." Butcher clears his throat. "These are for you." He holds out a large bouquet of Lavender wrapped in crinkling brown paper towards you.

"Oh wow. Thanks." Surprise flits across your mind when you try to reason why Butcher brought you flowers, but you still take them. Ben seems to also consider this because, he frowns at the flowers as if he's debating whether or not to throw them away or if he should take it as a threat.

"Rose said they were your favorite." Butcher cracks an awkward smile.

The nickname makes you pause.

Rosemary hates it when anyone else other than us calls her by a nickname…

"And this is for you." Butcher holds out a bottle of whiskey towards Ben, who takes it, also confused by Butcher's sudden generosity.

"Thanks." Ben grunts, but he doesn't smile.

"You didn't have to bring us anything." You look down at the flowers, inhaling the fragrant blooms. "I mean, the invitation out here for Thanksgiving was not contingent upon gifts."

"I thought it was a good idea." Rosemary says, reentering the room with Lou following behind her. Butcher glances at her like a lifeline.

"Why?" You ask hesitantly.

A sick feeling begins to bubble in the pit of your stomach. You had a sneaking suspicion of where this was going, but you were still holding out for a miracle.

Ben looks past Butcher towards the front door of the house, looking for the boyfriend who was supposed to be getting the bags out of the car, but no one appears in the doorway. "How long does it take to get bags out of the car? Is your boyfriend hiding outside like a fucking pussy or something?"

Rosemary steps even closer to Butcher and this time she takes his hand.

Oh. My. Fuck.

"No. He's right here. Mom, Ben, You guys both know Will." She smiles up at him the same way that she used to smile at Charlie, when she was head over heels and nothing could drag her away. Her whole heart open and you can see the flicker of the same feeling reflected in Butcher's eyes when he glances at her.

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, the awkward silence hanging over you all like a anvil choosing a target.

If Rosemary had come in here and announced that she was pregnant with an alien's baby you would have been less surprised than what she has just admitted. It was so far out in left field that you felt half-way to China. You had no idea how on earth this had happened or why it had happened.

There's a high pitched cracking noise, followed by an audible smash, as pieces of what was the whiskey bottle rain down from Ben's hand. He'd crushed the whole thing by just flexing his fingers.

"Surprise!" Lou grins ear to ear, swinging from Butcher's other hand, unable to read the room.

There's an awkward silence hovering over the room in the wake of their confession. Honestly, you're not sure what you’re feeling. Sure, you felt a little bit betrayed that Rosemary kept it from you for so long, but the feeling racing through your veins was unnamable.

"Lou go upstairs with Ryan." Ben growls in a low voice.

You had no idea how to respond to this. The only voice in your head was screaming "WHY HIM?"

Because really, why Billy Butcher?

"But-"

"Listen to Ben sweetie." You say in a tight voice, your eyes not leaving Butcher and Rosemary.

Rosemary's smile falters for a minute, as Lou goes up the stairs and no one speaks again until you hear her bedroom door close.

"No." Ben states calmly, wiping his hand with one of the dish towels.

"No, what?" Rosemary asks confused. She's still holding on to Butcher's hand, who looks as confused as she does.

"No. You're not allowed to date this British Fuck!" Ben shouts.

"Calm down mate-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" He takes a step forward and you hold out your arm to stop him. The heat of his skin is burning through his clothes where your arm makes contact with the front of his shirt. "And get your hands off my fucking daughter!"

"You cannot tell me what to do Ben! I am a grown woman and-"

"I don't give a single fuck. You're not going to date this Son of a Bitch." Ben's eyes narrow, pointing with one finger.

"And I don't give a single fuck what you say! I'm forty years old and you don't get to tell me who I can and cannot date." She shouts back.

"I am your father-"

"You're just the guy who got my mom pregnant!"

"Hey!" You shout interrupting the retort that is about to come out of Ben's mouth. "We're not going back to that."

"But he's being absolutely-"

"Rosemary." You clear your throat, interrupting her. "How long?"

"I don’t see why that matters-"

"How long?" You say again, interrupting her.

"Four months." Rosemary replies.

Butcher still looks like he's unsure what to do or what to say.

"Four months…" You nod methodically, and then you lose your last shred of composure. "Four MOTHER FUCKING MONTHS?!" You shout. "Are you insane?"

"Mom-"

You hold up a hand. "No. No. You had your chance. You've been sneaking around with William Fucking Butcher for four months! Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because I knew you would react like this."

"React completely justified to finding out that you're dating the guy who has killed countless people and tortured others to-"

"Look who's talking!" Rosemary spits.

Ben's body goes taunt next to you and you can practically feel the air heat with the force of his anger.

"Don't you turn this around on Ben!" You snap. "We're not discussing him right now. We're discussing you and him." You make a wild gesture at Butcher who looks even more uncomfortable now that you've started shouting.

Probably was just expecting Ben to freak out.

"I don't care-"

"Well that appears to be seen." You sigh heavily and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying very hard to make the images of Butcher and your daughter rolling around in bed together dissipate.

They weren't and there were so many.

"I can't believe that you did this. That you're-" You can't even get the words out of your mouth.

"Will you just listen to me for one fucking minute?!" Rosemary screams over you.

"Don't talk to your mother like that!" Ben seethes.

"And don’t you talk to Rose like that you arrogant wanker!" Butcher mirrors taking a step forward.

"That's it!" Ben tries to step around you, but you shift to intercept.

"You're not going to kill him in my kitchen." You say to Ben.

"Thank you-" Rosemary begins to say.

"Let's take him outside and kill him there." You continue.

"Good idea sweetheart. Less mess." Ben agrees.

"No!" Rosemary is now standing between Ben, you, and Butcher, shielding him from the two of you. "I love him and I'm not going to let you touch him!"

Her words make you freeze.

Sure, Butcher was hot and sexy in a rugged unwashed sort of way but you'd never believe that Rosemary had fallen in love with him. You weren't even sure that Butcher was capable of falling in love with anyone else after everything that happened with his wife and yet here he was standing in your house, in your kitchen, holding on to your daughter's hand, looking into your daughter's eyes as if he had fallen for her.

Since Charlie, Rosemary hadn't been on one date, hadn't spoken about anyone or made a comment about someone that she met at work. Before Charlie, Rosemary had only had a handful of dates. He was her one big love, the one that she fell head over heels for, the one who swept her off her feet, and then shattered her heart.

You had not once seen Rosemary look as happy as she did in the years since Charlie, except on nights that she spent coming home from a date with Butcher. You wanted her to be happy, you wanted her to find the same love that Ben and you shared, you wanted her to find someone who understood her completely the way that Ben understood you.

"Mom." Rosemary breathes. "You once told me that love shouldn't be a burden or something that I'm ashamed of. That it's not prideful or selfish, it's about giving pieces of yourself to someone else and receiving pieces of them so the two of you become something wonderful together." She sighs. "I spent months pushing Will away because I didn't want what happened to me before with Charlie to happen again. I-"

Butcher's hand finds hers when he senses how upset she is, and the motion makes your throat thick, but you let her keep talking.

"I thought that I was in love with Charlie, that he loved me, but I wasn't. And when Ben came back I struggled for a long time to understand why you let him back in after everything that happened, after he said those things and did those things to you. But then I fell in love with Will and I understood." She looks at Butcher with a half-smile. "I love him. And sure maybe he annoys the shit out of me and maybe he has the maturity of a teenage boy and-"

"You're not exactly making me feel better love." Butcher murmurs.

"And maybe he's not the most patient man in the world." She snorts with a shake of her head. "But I love every part of him, even the parts that make me want to throw him out the window. And I understand now why you couldn't let Ben go. Because I'm not going to let Will go. And if the two of you hate that, then it's too damn bad. Because he's not going anywhere."

"I'm not." Butcher re-affirms. "Even if the two of you throw me out I'm going to keep coming back."

"Like a damn cockroach." Ben murmurs under his breath. He'd drifted closer to you, so close that you could feel the warmth of his body against your back, a comfort right now.

"Exactly." Butcher flashes a shit eating grin.

You can’t help but respect him for that. His confidence in the face of certain death was admirable, and you could see some of the traits that Rosemary found so lovable. In fact, you could see a few of them in the man you loved with all your heart.

The four of you stand in complete silence listening to the what she just confessed, her words still ringing in the air of the warm kitchen.

"Mommy can we come down yet?!" Lou shouts from upstairs.

It breaks through the awkward tension and makes you smile.

"Fine." You say after a minute, extending your hand towards Butcher.

He takes it surprised, his other arm wrapped around your daughter's waist.

You yank him forward. "But if you break her heart, I'm going to make you wish you were never born. Understand?" You smile as widely as you can, with Ben glowering over your shoulder for effect.

"Yes ma'am."

When they go upstairs to put the bags away you sigh heavily and lean back against the counter, your head spinning. Ben is almost deathly silent, watching the two of them go, with an unreadable expression.

"What?" You ask him.

"Nothing." He shrugs, his dark hair falling forward into his face. "Just thinking of all the ways I can kill him if he breaks her heart."

"Good. We can make a list together and compare notes."

"And just when I think I can't love you anymore, you go ahead and say something like that."

"It’s a gift." You snort, placing your hand over Ben's heart and looking into his green eyes. "Well, I wanted your first Thanksgiving back to be memorable, but I didn't expect it to be like this."

"Honestly, I thought that it would end in a fight."

"The day is still young."

"It wouldn't be a normal day for us without a few surprises."

"I hate to admit it, but you're right."

"Always am."

"No you're always full of sh-"

Ben pulls you in for a kiss, his hands curving up over your hips, thumbs brushing beneath the hem of your shirt against your skin. "Happy Thanksgiving Sweetheart." He murmurs into your mouth.

"Happy Thanksgiving Ben."

A/N: Again, just a little holiday fluff from the fam!

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[aventurineswife]

Hello!! I saw your requests were open and was wondering if I could requests how the brothers would react to and treat an MC with chronic illnesses that cause them to need mobility aids like a cane, rollator and wheelchair to get around depending on how they feel (I mostly have to use a rollator and it's a pretty pink) but it also causes them to have dizzy spells really easily so they may have to randomly sit while out and about, leaves them with very little energy most days but they push through cause that's life but there's some days where the chronic fatigue and chronic pain keeps them bed ridden (and thus unable to attend RAD). I've been struggling for a year myself and I just really am turning to my boys for comfort. Even if you can't get to this or don't feel you can write for this I really appreciate just reading it! I'm excited to read more from you truly! Hope you have a good day!

“Rest Easy, Love, We've Got You”

Tags: Obey Me Brothers x Reader [Lucifer. x Reader, Mammon x Reader, Leviathan x Reader, Satan x Reader, Asmodeus x Reader, Beelzebub x Reader, Belphegor x Reader], Chronic Illness Representation, Disability Awareness, Mobility Aids, Fluff & Comfort, Slice of Life, Caregiving Dynamics, Emotional Support, Empathy.

Warnings: Contains themes of chronic illness, fatigue, and pain, Depictions of caring/supportive relationships, Mentions of mobility aids, Focus on emotional comfort and well-being.

A/N: First of all, thank you so much for your request! I really hope this piece brings you some comfort and makes you feel supported. I know that living with chronic illness can be really tough, but please remember that you’re strong, and you deserve all the care, love, and support in the world. I’m sending you so much warmth, and I truly hope you get well soon and take care of yourself! 🫂💖✨ Thank you again for sharing your request, and I’m wishing you nothing but health and happiness! 💖

Lucifer was never one to show his emotions easily, but seeing you struggle with something so beyond your control weighed heavily on him. His stoic demeanor often concealed the concern that lurked beneath.

When he first noticed you using a rollator, he didn't flinch. But the moment he saw the one you picked out, he couldn’t help but offer a small smile—a rare sight for the others, as if approving your choice.

"Let me know if you need assistance, MC." he'd offer, his voice calm and gentle. "You shouldn't feel the need to push yourself too hard." His eyes softened when you mentioned feeling dizzy or fatigued, a far cry from his usual commanding tone. He'd always make sure to walk beside you when you were out, offering his arm for support or using his influence to make sure no one bumped into you.

If you had to miss RAD for the day, he'd send you a tray of your favorite food, made with care. He'd also stop by with paperwork, though the way he would look at you was soft with understanding, as if telling you that his pride in you never wavered, even if you couldn't be there today.

"I don’t mind handling things here. Rest as you need."

Mammon, while initially unsure how to react to your condition, soon became your most fervent protector. He had a big heart, even if it was wrapped up in layers of greed and bravado. When you first mentioned you had a mobility aid, he was quick to say, "Oi, if anyone tries to mess with ya, you tell 'em I’ll handle it!"

He wasn’t always the most graceful about it, but his intentions were always pure. If he saw you sitting down because you were too dizzy, he'd immediately rush to your side, wrapping an arm around you to steady you.

"Ya don’t need to push yerself, ya know? Ye’re gonna hurt yourself!" he’d say, not fully understanding what it meant to push through chronic pain, but he’d do everything in his power to help.

He would try to pamper you on days you had to stay in bed, coming in with snacks, blankets, and random trinkets that he thought might cheer you up. "Ya deserve all the best stuff, so don’t feel bad about it!" he’d grumble, sitting by your side, even if he wasn’t the most delicate at times.

Leviathan was the type to do a lot of thinking and worrying in silence, so it took him some time to come to terms with how to best support you. His first instinct was to ask you if you needed help, but his anxiety often made him second-guess himself. He was nervous about saying the wrong thing, so he focused on actions rather than words.

One day, you were struggling to get from one place to another, and before you could even say a word, Levi appeared with your rollator, offering it to you with a shy but earnest smile. "I-I saw you needed this... I thought maybe this would make it easier...?" he’d say, voice awkward but full of sincerity. "Y-you don’t need to go anywhere by yourself! I can help... I can even carry your stuff if you want!"

His heart would ache every time you mentioned a day when the fatigue hit you hardest, and when you stayed in bed, he’d be there with games, movies, and all the comfort items he could think of. He'd worry about you endlessly, but it came from a place of deep care.

"Please, MC, take it easy... You don't have to do everything." he’d say, hoping you knew you could rely on him for anything you needed.

Satan was one of the few who could immediately grasp the depth of what you were going through. With his intelligence and empathy, he had no trouble understanding chronic pain and illness, as he had dealt with his own inner turmoil for years. When you talked about your mobility aids and dizziness, he listened intently and asked all the right questions to understand how he could be of help.

"Your well-being comes first." he’d remind you, offering his support without hesitation. If you were feeling fatigued, he wouldn’t insist on anything. Instead, he’d suggest the most calming ways to spend the day together, whether it was reading or simply relaxing by your side.

If you had to miss RAD, he'd make sure to bring something comforting—be it a book, tea, or a quiet space to rest. He was always gentle in his approach, never pushing you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

"I don’t mind handling things in your stead. Take care of yourself, MC." he’d say softly, his gaze full of respect.

Asmodeus was quick to fall into a protective role when it came to you. He absolutely adored your pink rollator, often calling it "fabulously cute" and making sure it was always in the best condition. He had a tendency to fuss over you, but it came from a place of deep love and care.

"Sweetie, you must be more careful! I can’t have you looking so tired all the time, can I?" He would go overboard on pampering you with lavish gifts, massages, and all the luxury his power could provide. His eyes would soften every time you told him how much energy it took just to get through the day, and his heart would ache for you on the days you were bedridden.

"You deserve nothing but the best, darling." he'd say, fluffing your pillows and pampering you with as much comfort as possible. He’d always remind you that he was there to help with anything—whether you needed someone to talk to, someone to hang out with, or just someone to make you smile.

Beelzebub’s approach was simple: he just wanted you to feel as comfortable as possible. He was incredibly perceptive when it came to your needs, and if he noticed you were struggling, he'd make sure to do whatever it took to help. He was quiet, but there was a deep tenderness to his actions.

If you needed to sit down because of dizziness, Beel would sit beside you without a word, making sure you had a safe space. He'd always keep an eye on your health, ensuring you had everything you needed, whether it was food, comfort, or just some time to rest.

He was also the type to sneak in with snacks or meals when you were bedridden, always making sure you were well-fed and comfortable. If you couldn’t attend RAD, he wouldn’t push you, simply reassuring you that he’d handle things and give you all the space you needed.

"Don’t worry about anything. Just rest." he’d say quietly, always the gentle giant, putting your needs above his own.

Belphegor, ever the laid-back one, wasn’t always the first to jump into action, but he was incredibly in tune with your emotions. He knew what it was like to struggle with energy, and while he’d never outwardly admit it, he had a quiet, empathetic understanding of your chronic fatigue.

On days when you couldn’t get out of bed, he’d quietly slip in, laying beside you, offering his warmth and presence as a comfort. If you needed a cane or rollator, he’d be there to grab it without question, lazily moving about the house to ensure you weren’t uncomfortable.

"Don’t worry. Take a nap," he’d whisper with a sleepy grin. "I’ll make sure the others don’t bother you."

Belphegor might not have been as vocal about his concern as some of the others, but his gentle actions showed his love and dedication. He’d take care of everything else while you rested, making sure you had one less thing to worry about.