#a really good description of the doctor all things considered

[silvereyedowl]

Valerie: He's completely insane!

Brannigan: That... and a bit magnificent!

Doctor Who, S3E3 "Gridlock" (2007)

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Cramps

Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.

Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes

A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u

Bitchy. 

You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 

You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 

What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 

 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 

Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 

Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 

So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 

“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 

“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 

“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 

For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 

Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 

You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 

“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 

“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  

You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 

“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 

At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 

“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 

“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 

“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 

“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 

But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 

You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 

Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.

Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 

Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 

Your period had come.  

In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 

“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 

It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 

“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 

Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 

“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 

You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 

“Thank you. You’re the best.” 

“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 

“Oh shut up, meanie.” 

“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙

“Love you too. 🤍” 

Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 

Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 

As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 

Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 

You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 

“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 

“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 

“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 

“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 

“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 

“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 

“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   

“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.

“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 

As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 

As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 

“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 

“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 

Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 

“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 

“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 

“I think I can make that happen.” 

About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 

“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 

Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 

“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 

“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 

“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 

“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 

Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 

But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 

“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 

“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 

Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 

With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 

“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 

Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” 

“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 

“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 

Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 

“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 

“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 

Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 

Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 

Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 

“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 

“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 

“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 

Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 

“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 

You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 

“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 

That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 

With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  

“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 

“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 

“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 

“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”

“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Taglist:

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[chimcess]

Bittersweet || myg (2)

Pairing: Yoongi x ReaderOther Tags: Grad Student!Yoongi, Undergrad!Reader, Grad Student!Hoseok, Uncle!Namjoon, Doctor!Namjoon, Grad Student!Jimin, Fuckboy!Jungkook, GradStudent!Jungkook, Boss!Seokjin, Yoongi POV Genre: College!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, kinda Student/Teacher but not really, Older!Yoongi, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut Word Count: 19.9k+ Summary: When a cynical graduate student meets an overly enthusiastic undergraduate, the air crackles with tension—though not all of it is good. Warnings: Mean!Yoongi, bitter grad student to the max, strong language, Jimin is still a snitch, possible wrong science information (i'm sorry i'm not perfect), sexual tension, Yoongi pining and being in love for almost 20k words, kissing at work, almost caught, graphic s*x scenes, non-descriptive smut as well, Jealous!Yoongi, i'm sorry but this JK is kind of a slime ball, Reader knows what she's doing, they're adorable, lots of bickering, drunk Yoon, drunk texting, they're both the biggest dorks on the planet, reader sleep talks, multiple sex scenes, oral (m&f receiveing), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, handjobs, all things considered these two are very vanilla, some dirty talk, reader mostly takes charge, public sex, sex at work, shower sex, again they're still dorks even when they're in bed, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Here's the second (and final) installment of this little two-shot. Thanks for reading!

Prev

I decided not to make a fuss about the stupid recruitment party. It was just a way for them to shove fresh-faced recruits down our throats, anyway. Instead of hitching a ride with Hoseok and Serena, I opted to walk alone, letting the cool night air wash over me. The campus felt both familiar and alien in the twilight, the shadows stretching long and eerie across the cracked pavement. Walking had always been my way of clearing my head, but tonight it felt like a futile exercise.

As soon as I stepped inside the venue, the noise slammed into me—laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses mingling into a chaotic symphony of youthful energy. I scanned the room, and when my eyes landed on her, I couldn’t help but groan. Y/N was there, and she was wearing those jeans—God, they looked painted on, hugging her curves in a way that sent my pulse racing. Her legs stretched endlessly, accentuated by those unforgiving black heels that screamed danger. My throat tightened with the realization: she was wearing fuck-me heels.

Fuck me indeed…

I shook my head, forcing myself to look away, as if her mere presence was some twisted magnet pulling me closer. I made my way to the bar at the back, seeking refuge against the wall while I nursed a drink, pretending to be absorbed in the chaos around me. But it didn’t take long before my eyes betrayed me, drawn back to her like a moth to a flame. She was laughing with a group of kids—probably this year’s recruits—her smile radiant and infectious.

Then, like a bad omen, Jungkook sauntered in, drink in hand, striding over to her with that cocky grin of his.

“Yoongi’s here! Let the party begin!” Serena’s voice cut through my thoughts, grating like nails on a chalkboard. I grimaced.

“What took you so long? Had trouble matching that sweater?” Hoseok appeared behind her, donning a tie that screamed ‘pretentious.’

I shot Serena a look, raising an eyebrow, and she responded with a smirk, clearly reveling in my discomfort.

“Yeah… not all of us have the privilege of being dressed by our girlfriends,” I muttered, bitterness creeping into my tone.

“Come on… I kid, I kid,” Hoseok laughed, draping an arm over my shoulder.

“I’ll leave you two to your bromance,” Serena rolled her eyes, tossing her hair back. “I better go suck up to my P.I.”

“How are you?” Hoseok’s tone shifted, sensing the dark cloud hanging over me.

“I’m peachy,” I replied, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

“I see…” He glanced in Y/N’s direction. “Oh… I see.”

“Yeah, well, Jungkook’s trying to get her drunk,” I hissed through clenched teeth, watching as he leaned in closer.

“Right. Jeon’s all over your zygote’s business,” he replied, a knowing smirk on his lips.

I groaned into my beer, bitterness churning in my stomach.

“C’mon! More drinking, less brooding!” He smacked my back playfully, but it only deepened the pit of resentment growing inside me.

An hour later, I was still a wallflower, slouched against my corner, shamelessly staring at Y/N as she flitted around the room. Jungkook kept swooping in like a hawk, but she brushed him off, her laughter echoing like a melody in the air. That was a relief, at least. Yet, reality settled in like a thick fog: she hadn’t even noticed me yet.

Then, our eyes locked. Time seemed to freeze, and I swear I involuntarily smiled. She walked toward me, a small grin dancing on her lips, and I was struck by how her hair flowed over her shoulders, the softness of it almost intoxicating. “Is that a new sweater?” she asked, her voice sweet and melodic.

“Are you making fun of me?” I shot back lightly.

“No…” she chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “You look good.”

“You look good too,” I replied, the words feeling flat against the brilliance of her presence. Well, that was an understatement—she looked stunning.

“You shouldn’t be drinking,” I said, gesturing to the beer in her hand, feeling an unexpected rush of protectiveness.

“Why not?” She brought the bottle to her mouth, her lips wrapping around it like an invitation.

Focus, Min!

“Are you twenty-one yet?” I blurted out, curiosity getting the better of me.

“Are you the party police?”

“Very funny,” I deadpanned, annoyance creeping in as I waited for her answer.

“If you must know, I am twenty-one already, thank you very much.”

“You are?” I was genuinely surprised. She didn’t seem old enough to be a senior, not with that wide-eyed enthusiasm.

“Yep, I missed a year in junior high. No biggie.” She shrugged, casual as ever.

“Oh…” The admission surprised me, stirring questions in my mind. What could have caused someone as smart and driven as her to miss a year?

My distraction drifted away as my gaze returned to her shoulders, delicate freckles dusting her skin, catching the fading light.

“Oh! I haven’t met that one!” Y/N quipped, spotting another recruit. “Be right back.”

I was entranced, eyes glued to her as she walked away, her hips swaying like a pendulum, counting down the moments until she returned. I was royally screwed. Somewhere along the way, I’d transformed from oblivious to hyper-aware, every single action of hers magnified under the microscope of my attention. How could I go back to not seeing her when each new thing I noticed sent heat flooding through me?

Y/N returned, all smiles, clutching another beer bottle that she’d snatched from Jungkook. “Why are you so angry?” she asked, leaning against the wall next to me.

“Y/N, I’m not angry. I’m having fun.” I tried to sound calm, but my voice cracked like thin ice.

“This is you having fun?” she countered, gesturing to my slumped posture with her beer.

“Yes,” I insisted, though my gaze lingered on the constellation of freckles scattered across her nose.

“Standing in the corner, looking at everyone like you’re a bodyguard, or an undercover cop—that’s you having fun?”

“Yes.” I shrugged, clinging to some semblance of composure.

“You’re angry.” She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in playful challenge.

“I’m not angry!” But deep down, the heat was rising inside me.

She laughed, the sound bubbling up like a mountain spring. “You’re frowning.”

“Because you’re driving me insane!” I inhaled deeply, trying to relax, but she was intoxicating.

“Why?” She stepped closer, her presence an electric charge in the air.

“Because you’re too happy.” And adorable…

“What’s wrong with being happy?” she retorted, her hand perched on her hip, radiating defiance.

My eyes drifted back to her, tracing the curve of her hip accentuated by those devilish pants. I closed my eyes, taking another deep breath to steady myself. “It’s extremely annoying.”

“Well, I’m sorry.” Her smile morphed into a giggle, and I groaned, feeling the weight of my frustration. “Do I really annoy you so much?”

She peered at me, eyebrows knitting together, a small frown blossoming on her face. I resisted the urge to look at her lips, afraid that if I did, I might just pull her in and kiss her right there.

“Yes,” I groaned, hoping my eyes conveyed that my answer was really “no.”

She held my gaze, and it felt like we were suspended in time, the world around us fading into insignificance. My fingers tightened around the neck of my beer bottle, anxiety coiling in my stomach. With a sigh, she shook her head and walked away again, leaving me alone with my turbulent thoughts.

Honestly, Y/N’s unyielding happiness, her enthusiasm, and all that radiance—it wasn’t annoying at all. It was refreshing, endearing, and it inspired me in ways I hadn’t felt in years. I couldn’t help but remember the excitement I once felt about starting this journey, how my heart raced at the thought of diving into research. What had changed? What did success even mean if there was no one to share it with?

So yes, Y/N’s happiness was far from annoying.

What was truly infuriating was that she made it impossible for me to keep my hands to myself.

“Jungkook offered to walk me home,” Y/N said, her voice slicing through the murmur of the crowd like a knife. I kept my gaze fixed on the throng, avoiding her bright eyes, filled with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “But I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

When I finally turned to look at her, a smile tugged at her lips, a spark of mischief lighting her features. “I think you might be right about him—he is kind of a tool.”

A snort escaped me, the tension in my chest easing just a fraction. “Plus I don’t trust him.”

“I don’t trust him either, Y/N,” I admitted, feeling the weight of my own words. It was the only reason I was here, shadowing her like a ghost.

“Can I lie and tell him you’re walking me home instead?”

Her gaze catches mine, and I’m momentarily swept away in the depths of her beautiful eyes, glowing softly under the dim lights, as if they’re hiding secrets just waiting to be uncovered. 

“You don’t have to lie, Y/N. I’ll walk you home myself,” I say, my voice dripping with sincerity I didn’t know I had. She looks down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, an unintentional cue for me to look away.

When she finally says she’s ready to leave, we exchange goodbyes, and she pauses at the door, rummaging through her bag. I can’t help but smile when she pulls out a pair of black Chucks. As she grips my arm to slide off her high heels, I catch a flicker of discomfort flash across her face.

“Are you okay?” I ask, concern bubbling up.

“Yeah, my feet are killing me,” she replies, a hint of laughter in her voice.

“I could go get my car.”

“Nonsense. It’s just ten minutes away,” she insists, slipping her shoes back on, and we begin our trek.

As we walk toward her building, she animatedly recounts stories about prospective students, her voice weaving a vibrant tapestry that pulls us closer together. It’s no wonder she’s so well-liked; anyone would be a fool not to adore her. 

“Can you hold these?” she asks, passing me her heels as we reach her building. A twinge of envy strikes me at the sight of those dainty straps that had just hugged her ankles.

She digs through her purse, clearly on a mission. 

“Shit…” Frustration laces her voice. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have my keys… I must have left them inside, in my other bag.”

“Oh…” I glance at the time. It’s past two in the morning. 

Should I offer her a place to stay? That’s what any decent person would do, right? But what if… what if I couldn’t keep my hands to myself?

“I’m so stupid!” she exclaims, smacking her forehead with the heel of her hand.

“Hey, relax… um… I have a bed. I mean, a couch.” 

She looks up at me, skepticism dancing across her features.

“Really, it’s no problem.” I shrug, trying to keep my tone casual, as if it’s just a simple offer rather than an opportunity for something more.

Her expression remains doubtful.

“That’s what graduate student mentors are for, right?”

A small grin appears on her lips, and I can’t help but smile back. If all else fails, maybe I could find a way to make her smile like that—nothing would make me happier.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… it’s not like it’d be awkward or anything,” I tease, and her laughter lifts the tension in the air.

It takes us about twenty minutes to reach my apartment. Y/N talks a mile a minute, and I barely manage to squeeze a word in, but I don’t mind; her voice wraps around me like a warm blanket on a chilly night.

As we climb the steps of my building, I notice her wince again, gripping the railing for support.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Worry creeps in; she looks genuinely pained.

She takes a deep breath, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Y/N, please, just tell me what’s wrong.” I reach for her hand, desperate to ease whatever discomfort she’s feeling.

“Can we just go inside?” She clutches my hand tighter. “I’ll tell you, I promise.”

I help her inside and guide her to the couch. She collapses onto it with a shaky breath, extending her legs and rubbing her thighs—a gesture that sends a pang of concern through me.

“It’s not a big deal,” she begins, trying to sound lighthearted. “Sometimes I get pain in my legs from an old injury.”

“Oh… can I get you something for it?”

“Just water is fine.” She digs through her bag and pulls out a bottle of ibuprofen, shaking it at me with a smile.

As I rush to the kitchen, unease coils in my stomach. She had been walking the whole time, and I hadn’t even noticed she was in pain. I pour two glasses of water, my hands trembling slightly as I hand one to her and settle down beside her.

“You should’ve told me you were hurting, Y/N. I would have gotten the car.”

“I’m all right.” She gives me a soft smile, glancing around my sparsely decorated apartment. “Your place is nice.”

Nice? It’s barren—like a forgotten room in an old house where laughter used to echo. I turn the glass of water in my hands, my mind racing. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

She meets my gaze as I take a sip. “If you’re wondering if I’m a virgin, the answer is no.”

I choke on the water, caught off guard by her sudden candor. “Jesus Christ, woman, how drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk at all. I’m just messing with you. What were you going to ask?”

I look at her, heat rising in my cheeks as the tension coils between us. “I was just curious about how you got injured,” I admit, my thoughts drifting to the whirlwind of emotions churning inside me.

“Oh, well… My mom and I were in a car accident. I broke my hip and both my legs.” She says it so casually, as if she’s recounting a minor scrape.

“What?”

“Yeah… it was okay, though. After rehab, I was as good as new!” She beams, her enthusiasm a stark contrast to the weight of her words.

“How long was rehab?”

“Long enough.” 

I remember something she mentioned earlier. “Long enough to make you miss a year in school?”

She responds with a grin and a nonchalant shrug. “Shit, Y/N. That sucks. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s all right. I’m actually glad it happened.” Her gaze drifts down to her legs, fingers tracing an invisible path over her thighs. “It brought my parents back together, just as they were meant to be.”

Her eyes return to mine, and the intensity of her words fills the air. “My parents got divorced when I was little, and my mom and I moved to Florida. But after the accident, my dad came to help, and they just… clicked, I guess. They’ve been together ever since.” She smiles proudly, and I sit there, stunned.

A strand of hair falls across her face, and I can’t resist the urge to tuck it behind her ear—an excuse to bridge the distance between us. With every detail she shares, I feel myself drawn closer, tangled in her life, as if I’m getting lost in her depths.

“Okay…” I set my glass down on the coffee table, the clink echoing like a heartbeat in the stillness. “I think you deserve the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Why?”

“Because I just made you walk—”

“It’s not your fault. I locked myself out.”

“Y/N, please…”

“Okay, okay… don’t get all grumpy on me.” She stands, and I hover over her, uncertain how to help, torn between the urge to support her and the instinct to maintain some distance.

“Hey, stop it.” She steadies herself with a hand on my arm. “I’m fine. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I lead her to my bedroom, showing her where the bathroom is. I offer her some of my clothes to change into, but she declines, insisting it wouldn’t be the first time she slept in jeans.

She sits on the bed, and just as I’m about to leave, she calls out, “Yoongi?”

I turn, and she gestures for me to sit beside her, lying back on the comforter, vulnerability etched into her features.

I swallow hard as I lower myself next to her, the proximity amplifying the tension crackling in the air.

“I’m glad you don’t hate me anymore.”

I stare awkwardly at her, afraid to move and wake her up. Leaning back against the headboard, I let the silence linger, my mind racing with all the things I want to say. I want to know her—really know her—not just as the emotionally unavailable guy I’ve been until now.

Hoseok was right—I've got it bad for Y/N Y/L/N.

I think I preferred it when Y/N was just a blurry thought in my mind, hidden behind a blindfold I’d created to shield my heart. Back then, I didn’t have to wrestle with the urge to kiss her or feel the tempting softness of her hair against my fingers. But now, the blindfold has slipped away, and so has my common sense. Here I am, a hopeless observer, lurking in the shadows as she sleeps, feeling like a total creep.

Her face is peaceful, like a canvas painted with serenity, only occasionally disturbed by the flutter of her lashes. Her lips form a perfect little "o," and the way her bangs fall delicately over her forehead sends my heart racing. I long to reach out, to push them aside, to bury my hands in her hair like I did before. Slowly, I lift my hand, inching it closer to her face, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

“Jack!” Y/N suddenly cries out, her voice slicing through the silence like glass. My heart jumps. “There’s a boat, Jack!” The frown that creases her brow twists her serene expression into something frantic, as if she’s caught in a storm of dreams.

What is happening? Is she having a nightmare? Who’s Jack? 

Just as quickly, her face smooths over again, tranquility restored as if the storm has passed, leaving only a gentle breeze behind.

Isn’t it just my luck? Y/N talks in her sleep, and apparently, she’s got a soft spot for someone named Jack—maybe a sailor too. 

I could rent a boat. We could go sailing if she wanted. Maybe I could learn to sail. If Jack can do it, how hard could it be? Does she even like sailing? I’ll ask her tomorrow.

What am I even thinking? No, I’m not going to ask her tomorrow, because we aren’t going sailing. She can go with Jack for all I care.

I groan, burying my face in my hands, frustration and disbelief washing over me. I’ve seriously lost it. This is ridiculous.

“Fucking Jess ate my Chobani again,” Y/N mutters, jolting me from my thoughts. Jess? Who the hell is that? And what even is a Chobani?

I should go. I shouldn’t be here, lurking in the shadows, eavesdropping on this craziness.

“Jonah Rodgers thinks I’m sexy…” 

For the love of God! Is she trying to drive me mad?

Jonah Rodgers? The name sounds familiar. Do I know him? Is he that jerk who used to stalk her? 

The stalker. Damn it. If I were still T.A.-ing, I’d fail him for disrespecting Y/N in this way.

I can’t take this anymore. If she mentions another guy, I swear I’m going to lose it. I sit at the edge of the bed, ready to leave, but before I can move, Y/N speaks again.

“Does Yoongi think I’m sexy?” 

I do, I do, I do…

“Hmm… my Grumpy.” 

Her soft moan sends a jolt of electricity coursing through me, and I’m utterly unprepared—shredded, breathless, completely undone. 

Does she mean me? She called me Grumpy once, right? Said I was the only Grumpy she knew. Am I her Grumpy?

Shit, shit, shit!

I slump back against the headboard, the realization both thrilling and terrifying. 

Is Y/N dreaming about me? Is it wrong that this feels so right? That my heart is swelling with excitement at the thought of being part of her dreams?

I turn to look at her again. She’s frowning now, exaggerated and cute, her lips pouting in a way that tugs at my heart.

“Do not touch my samples, Becca!” Her voice is low and raspy. “Don’t be so happy, Becca!” And then she smiles, as if a hidden joke just crossed her mind. “Run, Becca! Run!” 

Oh, she’s definitely dreaming about me, just not in the way I had hoped.

She’s making fun of me—in her dreams.

Wonderful.

I groan, letting my head thud back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling as disappointment settles over me like a heavy shroud. I shouldn’t be wishing for Y/N to dream about me; it would only complicate things. We can’t be together; this will never work.

In a year, I’ll graduate, and then it’ll be New York City, and Estelle all over again. Estelle and I had been together for four years when we graduated from Cornell. She wanted me to get a “real” job, to move with her to New York. She wanted me to abandon the chance for grad school at UW, to work at one of the top cancer research centers in the country. She made me choose, and I chose research.

And you know what? I have no regrets. Even though she didn’t know everything about my parents, she knew it mattered to me—she shouldn’t have made me choose. So when she said, “If you leave, we’re done,” I left. I figured I was better off alone, or as she put it, “end up alone and rot in lab hell.” It didn’t seem like such a sacrifice then—my relationship with Estelle was mediocre at best.

So, I dove headfirst into grad school and landed in one of the best labs in the program. I didn’t let any woman get in my way. I was focused, determined—until I woke up four years later, an angry, bitter shell of a man, nursing my bruised pride.

What a wake-up call that was! Suddenly, I started noticing everything—the things I fought so hard to ignore. I had worn blinders for so long, and I missed so much.

Honestly, I never expected to feel so unfulfilled.

Isn’t this what I wanted when I chose to leave Estelle? What am I missing? Why am I not enjoying my work anymore?

I glance at Y/N again. Her expression is peaceful once more, an angelic mask that makes me ache with longing. I can see myself falling for her easily—if I’m lucky, she might fall for me too. But then what? 

Then I’ll have to choose: my work, my life, what I owe to my parents, over her. She’ll make me choose, and I’ll choose science—cancer research—and it will shatter us both. This time, it would be the greatest sacrifice I’d ever have to make. And honestly, I’m not even sure I’d be strong enough to make that decision. If Y/N were to love me back, how could I hurt her like that?

I sigh, dragging a hand down my face, the weight of my thoughts pressing heavily on my chest.

Y/N is smiling now, giggling softly, her laughter a haunting melody in the quiet room. How someone can giggle in her sleep is beyond me. After a while, she calms, her breathing slowing even more. With a sigh, I close my eyes and wait, holding my breath for what she might say next.

I wake with a start, my neck and back screaming in protest from the unforgiving embrace of the headboard. I must’ve slept in the same awkward position all night, unmoving. Stretching my arms, I blink against the morning light, squinting at my watch. Seven o’clock. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut—Y/N is gone.

Rubbing my sore neck, I drag myself out of bed and around the apartment, searching for any sign of her. Her bag and heels are missing. An uneasy feeling churns in my stomach as I plod back to the bed, my mind racing with questions about where she could have gone so early. That’s when I notice the slip of paper on the nightstand.

Morning, Grumpy!   I had to leave to get my keys from the landlord.   Thanks for letting me crash last night.   Sorry for your sore neck.   Y/N. :)

I face-plant onto the bed with a groan, trying to drown out the hollow emptiness she left behind. Her scent lingers on the pillows, sweet and intoxicating, wrapping around me like a vise. I inhale deeply, the fragrance filling my lungs, but instead of comfort, it brings a gnawing ache. Grumpy... I’m her Grumpy. The thought claws at me, relentless and unyielding.

Monday drags in like a slow, inevitable doom. I sit silently in the lunchroom with Hoseok, who prattles on about the success of the recruitment party. His voice is background noise, barely penetrating my thoughts. Thankfully, he hasn’t asked about Y/N yet.

“So, is Yoonji coming this weekend?” he asks, mid-chew of his sandwich.

“Yes. Friday,” I mutter, my mind elsewhere.

“Awesome! Oh man…” He swallows, excitement clear in his voice. “I can’t wait for next week! Spring Break: no undergrads, the gyms and bars all to ourselves!”

“Is it Spring Break next week?” My voice cracks, surprise jolting me back to reality. I had completely forgotten.

“Yeah!”

Great. My stomach twists with dread. Is Y/N leaving for Spring Break? She probably is, isn’t she? The uneasy feeling intensifies, so I shove a forkful of macaroni into my mouth, trying to silence it.

“What’s up your ass?” Hoseok asks suddenly, narrowing his eyes at me.

I shake my head, dismissing him

. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Seriously?” His disbelief is palpable. “You look like you just downed a bottle of aspirin. Come on, tell me what’s wrong.” 

His eyes are kind, but they only intensify the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. 

I stare down at my plate, willing the irritation to simmer down. He’s my best friend—he deserves to know. But how can I explain this mess? The whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me? 

“Y/N…” I finally murmur, the name tasting foreign on my tongue. 

“Y/N? The girl you were with at the party? What about her?”

“Uh…she crashed here last night. She left this morning to get her keys from the landlord.” I avoid his gaze, my cheeks warming at the admission.

“Dude, that’s awesome!” he grins, elbowing me lightly. “So, you guys are getting serious?”

I scoff, shaking my head. “I don’t know about that.”

Hoseok’s smile falters. “What do you mean? You like her, right?”

“Of course I do!” The admission bursts out before I can stop myself, surprising both of us. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the tide of emotions swelling within me. “But it can’t go anywhere. She’s leaving, Hoseok. She’s probably going to some fancy college or… some fancy job.”

“So? You guys can make it work! Do you want to make it work?”

“I don’t know! I don’t want to hurt her. I can’t…” I trail off, frustration bubbling back to the surface. “I can’t let myself get caught up in this. I’ve worked too hard for my future to throw it all away for her.”

“Wait, what? Throw it all away? You really think you can’t have both? That you can’t just have fun while also focusing on your studies?”

I’m silent, my insides twisting again, a potent mix of anger and sadness at the thought of losing Y/N. “It’s not that simple,” I finally reply.

“Why not? You just told me she crashed here last night! You can’t pretend this doesn’t matter! You can’t keep running from it forever, Yoongi!” His voice rises, frustration spilling over.

“Why are you getting so worked up over this?” I snap, staring at him with incredulity.

“Because I’m sick of seeing you sulk, man!” His hands fly up in exasperation. “You can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t matter! Just tell her how you feel, for fuck’s sake!”

I shake my head, the weight of his words crashing down around me, the walls closing in. I feel suffocated, cornered. “What if she’s not interested? What if I scare her away?”

“Then at least you’ll know! At least you’ll have closure, and you can move on!” 

His voice rings in my ears, echoing through the tangled web of my thoughts. I look down, realizing he’s right. 

I take a deep breath, steadiness creeping back in. “You’re right.” I want to scream. “You’re so right.” But the truth sits heavy on my chest. 

But what if I’m not strong enough to risk everything again? What if I lose her before I ever get to really have her? 

When I get back to the lab, my phone beeps with a new email.

From: Y/N Y/L/N, ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Monday, March 21, 2024, 1:18 PM   To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu

Hey Yoongi,

Is it okay if I miss lab on Tuesday and Wednesday? I have midterms this week before Spring Break, but I promise I’ll make up for the lost time afterward.

Y/N

She’s leaving.

The thought crashes over me like a tidal wave, pulling me under, swirling with anxiety and dread. She won’t even be here this week. The uncertainty gnaws at my insides, promising nothing but torture ahead.

From: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Monday, March 21, 2024, 1:20 PM   To: Y/N Y/L/N, ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu

Fine.

Yoongi Min   PhD Candidate   Kim Lab   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024

It’s official: I fucking hate Spring Break.

As soon as I get home, desperation drives me to call Yoonji. I tell myself it’s to find out when Y/N will be back, but really, I need to spill everything—the kiss, the night Y/N slept in my bed, the haunting thought of her heading to Cabo for Spring Break.

“Yoongi, I just don’t understand,” Yoonji says, her voice cutting through the fog in my mind. I’m sprawled on the couch, head tilted back, an arm draped over my eyes like a shield against reality.

“To be honest, I think what you’re doing is stupid,” she continues, her frustration palpable. “You’re miserable. I can feel it. Why won’t you give yourself a chance to—”

“To what, Yoonji? You remember what happened with Estelle.”

“Please, Estelle was an unsupportive bitch.”

“I don’t even know Y/N that well!” I blurt out, my voice sharper than I intended. The fear of history repeating itself looms over me like a dark cloud.

“Y/N won’t make you choose, Yoongi.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You said she’s incredibly determined, that she loves research even more than you used to. That doesn’t sound like someone who would oppose you continuing on this path.”

“I don’t know, Yoonji.” I sigh, running my hands over my face, feeling the weight of her words settle heavily on my shoulders.

“Give yourself the opportunity to get to know her. Don’t deny yourself the chance to be with her just because you’re afraid to feel something.”

“I’m not afraid of feeling anything,” I snap, though the truth is, I’m drowning in emotions already. “But I’ll be done with the program in a year.”

“So what? A lot can happen in a year. You know that better than anyone.”

I groan, conceding. She’s right. She’s always right.

“You’re hurting. You care about her, Yoongi. Why do you have to be so blind?” Yoonji’s frustration seeps through the phone, and I can almost picture her pacing, running a hand through her hair.

“What do you suggest I do? Ask her out?” I retort, the idea weighing heavily on my mind. “She’s my undergrad! I don’t even know if she’s interested in me.”

“Didn’t you say she kissed you back?”

“Yes. But she also said she didn’t want to jeopardize her experience in the lab.”

“That means she’s smart. You shouldn’t let your feelings affect your work, especially if she’s under you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a relationship outside of lab.”

The thought of being with Y/N outside those sterile walls sends my heart racing. I lean back against the couch, releasing a shaky breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Have you talked about it again? Have you told her how you feel?” Yoonji presses, her voice softening.

“No. I decided to pretend it never happened.”

“Geez, Yoongi. For such a smart guy, you can be so dense.” Her exasperated sigh echoes in my ears, and I remain silent, letting her words sink in. “You need to talk to her, tell her what’s going on. See what she wants. Tell her what you want.”

Staring at the ceiling, I weigh the possibility of confessing my feelings to Y/N. The prospect terrifies me, yet the urge to be honest gnaws at my insides.

“Yoongi, do you know what you want?” she asks gently.

“Yes. I want to go to sleep.” 

Her frustrated sigh tells me she senses I’m closing off again.

“Do you want to be with her?” she probes softly.

“I’ve never wanted anyone more.”

The truth spills out, raw and unfiltered. Her squeal of excitement on the other end makes me rub my hands on my thighs, trying to contain my nerves.

“Then do yourself a favor and talk to her. I’d bet good money she’s already crazy about you.” Her enthusiasm is contagious, and I find myself considering it more seriously.

We end the call, but sleep eludes me. Images of Y/N in a bikini invade my mind, and there’s no chance of me sleeping tonight.

When I step back into the lab on Thursday after lunch, I’m completely unprepared for the sight of Y/N. She’s there, smiling, and it catches me off guard, my heart racing like it’s just run a marathon. I thought she’d be gone by now, off to live her Spring Break fantasies. My mind has been a battlefield all week, flooded with images of her carefree adventures. Googling “Spring Break activities” had been a catastrophic mistake.

She’s not in her usual lab coat today; instead, she’s wearing a fitted sweater that hugs her figure just right, the V-neck revealing a tantalizing hint of her collarbones. The dark fabric contrasts beautifully with her pale skin, and my imagination betrays me, picturing that skin in a bikini. All I can see is red.

Thankfully, Jimin is nowhere in sight.

“I thought you had better things to do this week,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended as I walk past her, heading toward my desk.

“What do you mean?” Her smile vanishes, replaced by confusion.

“I didn’t know you were coming today. I don’t have time for this.” I wave my hand dismissively, trying to suppress the storm brewing inside me.

“For what? I—I don’t understand.”

These lies spill from my mouth uncontrollably. “Honestly, Y/N, sometimes I think you’re just here for the credits. This isn’t how science works. You need to be consistent.” My voice rises, and I see her flinch.

“Why are you yelling at me? Is this because I missed two days? I’m sorry, Yoongi. I had to study. I promise I’ll make up for it.”

I rub my forehead, frustration clawing at my insides. I know this isn’t her fault, but the anger bubbles over. “Have fun on Spring Break,” I grit out as I storm past her, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Yoongi?” she calls after me, but I keep walking, desperate for fresh air. The cool spring breeze feels like a lifeline, and I gulp it in, trying to calm the chaos inside me. I can’t keep doing this. This is madness.

I don’t get far before I hear Y/N’s voice again, breathless and firm. “Yoongi, what’s the matter with you?” I hadn’t realized she’d followed me. I turn around, and there she is—confused, hurt, and heartbreakingly beautiful.

There’s no point in pretending anymore. I can’t keep up the facade. “I don’t think you really want to know, Y/N.” I run a hand down my face, trying to keep my composure.

She crosses her arms, waiting, an expectant look in her eyes.

“I fucking hate Spring Break, okay? I hate the thought of you parading around with some frat losers, being young, drunk, and reckless. I hate it. I hate all of it.”

Her expression shifts from confusion to understanding, and she relaxes, placing her hands on her hips. A corner of her mouth quirks up. “What are you talking about?”

Is she seriously smirking?

“I’m talking about you going to Cabo San Lucas for Spring Break.”

“Who said I was going to Cabo?” Now she’s fully smiling.

“I don’t know, I just assumed… aren’t you all?” I mumble, embarrassed.

“You have some serious misconceptions about undergrads, Yoongi. We’re not all the same. And that’s not me at all.”

“So you’re not going away for Spring Break?” I ask, still staring at my feet, not wanting to look her in the eye.

“No, I’m not. I was actually looking forward to spending more time in the lab, making up for this week.”

Relief floods through me, but it’s tangled with a crushing sense of shame. “You’re not going away? You’re staying here?” My voice is barely a whisper.

“Yes. That’s what I said.”

I stagger back, feeling like an idiot. I can’t believe I snapped at her like that. As my anger fades, embarrassment rushes in, making my knees feel weak. I might seriously pass out.

“Yoongi? Are you all right?”

I let out a humorless laugh. No, I’m not all right. This is too much.

She steps closer, and I know I won’t be able to resist kissing her if she comes any nearer. I lift my hand in warning and take another step back.

“Yoongi?” Ignoring my gesture, she moves closer and stands right in front of me.

I close my eyes, the truth spilling out uncontrollably. “All I could think about was some punk with his shirt off, a baseball cap on backward, shoving beer down your throat... and it made me want to murder someone.” My hand clutches my chest, heart racing.

She giggles—at my agony? My eyes snap open, and her smile fades under my intense stare. “These past few days have been torture,” I continue. “I can’t get you out of my mind. All I can think about is you—your lips on mine, your legs around my waist. You drive me insane, Y/N. I can’t think straight.”

Y/N’s eyes shine with emotion, and she closes the distance between us, resting her head against my chest. My hand instinctively finds its way to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. She pulls away slightly, and I lift her chin with two fingers, forcing her to meet my gaze. Her eyes glisten, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, cheeks flushed a delicate pink.

When our lips touch, the electric current between us is undeniable. I close my eyes, exhaling through my nose, and cup her face, my thumb brushing her ear, fingers caressing her neck. Y/N grips my shirt, pulling herself closer. When my tongue slips into her mouth, a moan escapes me at the sweetness of her taste.

I can’t stay away from her anymore. I’m not strong enough.

Y/N wraps a hand around my neck, pulling me even closer. My hand travels down her back, wrapping tightly around her waist. I know she can feel my arousal pressing against her, but I don’t care. When she whimpers against my mouth, I know she feels the same.

Is it possible she’s been yearning for this as much as I have? 

Tell her what you want, Min.

“Y/N, wait.” I gently push her back, keeping one hand on her face. She stumbles slightly, holding onto my arm, looking dazed. “I don’t want this to be another kiss you regret. I don’t want you to be swept away by the moment. I want… I want more.”

She gapes at me, panting.

“I’m sorry I’m being so blunt, but I can’t hide this anymore.” I drop my hands to my sides and step back.

“What are you trying to say, Yoongi?” Her confusion is evident.

“What I’m trying to say is that I want to see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I-I think I can come in the afternoon between classes.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N! Would you listen to me? I don’t need you to come to the lab. I want to see you outside of the lab.”

I pinch my nose, trying to calm down, afraid my intensity will scare her away.

“Oh…”

“My cousin is coming to visit. We’re all going out for drinks. Do you want to come with me?”

She looks at me, and then she nods. “Okay.”

Okay… she said yes. Oh my god, she said yes.

I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry I snapped at you like that.”

“I know,” she replies, giving me a small grin that weakens my knees. My hand reaches for her face again, addicted to the softness of her skin as I brush her hair behind her ear and stroke her cheek. She stares into my eyes, cheeks burning, and I’m debating whether to kiss her again when I see Jin’s car pull into the parking lot, and I drop my hand immediately.

Shit…

Y/N glances back and sees Jin getting out of his car.

“I should go study, then…” She looks back at me, and I nod, feeling a mix of regret and anticipation. “I’ll catch you later. Call me about tomorrow.” She brushes a timid finger down my arm before turning to leave.

I stay outside for a few more minutes, gathering my thoughts and waiting for my heart to calm down. 

I did it. I asked Y/N out... sort of.

Now what?

Yoonji had turned into a shadow in my apartment, trailing me as I prepared for what felt like the most important night of my life. “Have you been using that stubble trimmer I got you?” she asked, her fingers grazing my jaw as if she were assessing a work of art. 

I nodded, feeling uneasy under her watchful gaze. Deep down, I was already regretting the group date we had planned. The thought of going out with Y/N sent my heart racing; adding my cousin and a few friends into the mix felt like a cosmic joke, and I was definitely the punchline. 

As I rifled through my chaotic closet, I tried to tune her out, running my fingers through my damp hair in a futile attempt to calm my nerves. 

“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Leave it to Yoonji to treat every moment like a Broadway performance. I shot her a glare, barely suppressing my frustration as I swept past her in search of my jacket. 

“You’re wearing a polo shirt?” she challenged, disbelief lacing her tone. 

“What’s wrong with a polo shirt?” I snapped, slapping my hands against my thighs in exasperation. The anxiety gnawed at me, and her judgment only fueled the fire. 

Yoonji stepped closer, her expression softening. “Yoongi, my oblivious cousin, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that polo shirt. As long as it doesn’t have holes in it.” 

Relief washed over me like a tide, momentarily pushing my worries aside. I had never cared much for her opinion on my wardrobe; that had never mattered before. But tonight? It wasn’t Yoonji’s approval I craved—it was Y/N’s. I wanted to be more than the cynical grad student she saw in class.

“You look great,” Yoonji said, her smile coaxing a small, reluctant grin from me in return. “If just thinking about her has you acting like this nervous mess, I already know I’m going to love her.”

Yoonji had made it clear she’d ride with Hoseok and Serena so I could pick up Y/N alone. Now, I found myself parked outside her building, panic clawing at my insides. My palms felt clammy as I smoothed them over my thighs, my heart thumping violently against my ribs, and my mouth was desert-dry. It had been ages since I’d done anything like this. Estelle and I had never ventured out much together; I had buried myself in my studies while she lived her own life, leaving me utterly out of practice.

Despite the storm of anxiety raging within me, excitement bubbled up as I thought of Yoonji, Hoseok, and even Serena meeting Y/N. They needed to see how extraordinary she was—smart, caring, and hilariously funny. What thrilled me most was the prospect of spending time with Y/N outside the sterile confines of our lab, engaging with her as something more than just colleagues.

I banged my head against the steering wheel a few times, trying to settle my frayed nerves. My heart leaped when a knock on the window broke through my spiraling thoughts. There she was—Y/N, standing outside with that bright smile and a wave. I quickly unlocked the door, feeling like an utter fool. 

“Hey…” she said as she slid into the car. 

“I’m sorry. I was going to get you. Just… got distracted,” I admitted, feeling like an idiot for letting her down.

“It’s okay.” She shrugged. “Better this way anyway. I didn’t want Jess to see us.”

“Jess?” The name floated through my mind, familiar yet vague—wasn’t she the one from Y/N’s sleep ramblings? The one with the boat?

“Jessica, my roommate,” she explained. “She was in your class last year, and she knows I’m working in your lab… so I don’t want any rumors spreading, you know?”

“My class?” I felt disbelief surge within me. How could this be?

“Intro to Micro. Last Fall. You were our T.A.,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What?” 

“We were both in your class,” she added, unfazed by my shock.

“I was your T.A. last year?”

“Yes.” 

“Are you sure it was me?” I grasped at straws. How could I have overlooked her?

She turned toward me, eyebrow raised in that cute way she had. “Oh, I’m sure.” 

“I’m so sorry,” I blurted out. How could I have forgotten her? 

“It’s okay. You keep to yourself. I get it.” 

“Do we know each other from anywhere else?” My worry twisted into a knot. Had I brushed past her countless times, completely blind to her presence? 

So much time wasted. How incredibly foolish of me.

“Just that class in the fall. Unless you count all the times I waved at you at the gym or smiled at you every Saturday as you passed by my table at the library after getting your coffee.” 

She had been right there all along, and I had missed her completely.

“Shit, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I’ve been such an idiot!” I pounded the heel of my hand against my forehead a few times, embarrassment crashing over me.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Y/N reached for my hand, gently pulling it away from my face.

“No, it’s not. I was completely blind… and I feel like I’ve wasted so much time.” 

“Well, I’m here now…” She smiled, releasing my hand.

“You are.” 

“And you can see me now, right?” 

“You’re all I see now…” The truth swelled in my chest, echoing through me. Y/N was all that mattered, the only one who could unravel this tangled mess of a heart I had. 

“You see?” she said, clasping her hands over her lap. “When you say stuff like that, it makes it really hard to believe you can be such a grump.” She smiled, a shy yet bold thing, and my instinct was to lean in and kiss her, but I tamped down my urge for the sake of the group date.

“Well, no need to worry. I’m still very much a grump.” I offered a wry smile, taking a deep breath. “Shall we do this?” 

Y/N nodded, and I started the car. 

I didn’t mind being a grump, as long as I could be her grump.

When we pulled up to the bar, I rushed to open Y/N's door, but of course, she was already climbing out by the time I reached her side. My gaze landed on the exposed skin of her collarbones, the freckles scattered across her chest—how had I missed them in the car?

Her white top hung loosely on her frame, the neckline dipping low enough to reveal just a hint too much. Luckily, she wore something underneath, but the sheer fabric let me catch glimpses of her silhouette. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who noticed—some guy outside was staring at her like she was the last meal on earth. My hand found her lower back as I guided her inside, urgency propelling me forward.

Hoseok, Yoonji, and Serena were already at a table, and when Yoonji spotted us, her face lit up like it was Christmas morning. I half-expected her to pull out a camera.

“Y/N, this is my cousin, Yoonji. Yoonji, this is Y/N.” Before I could finish my introduction, Yoonji sprang to her feet.

“Y/N!” she exclaimed, pulling Y/N into an enthusiastic embrace. Her eyes sparkled with joy as she cast me a cheeky grin. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“Yoonji, calm down,” I thought, but I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. 

“Nice to meet you too, Yoonji,” Y/N replied, her sweetness radiating like a warm glow.

“And you’ve already met Hoseok and Serena.” I gestured to the other two goofballs, who were now staring at Y/N like she was some kind of celestial being.

“Hi, Y/N! How’s life in the undergraduate world?” Hoseok teased as I pulled out a chair for her.

“Lotta drinking, lotta partying… you know, same old, same old.” Y/N shrugged, grinning, and I could see she had already charmed Hoseok.

“So… let’s get to the important stuff.” Hoseok waved a hand at me, a smirk growing on his face. I knew it wouldn’t take long for the teasing to kick in. I rolled my eyes.

“Oh! I know! Yoongi is wearing a polo shirt,” Serena piped up.

“I guess hell froze over, baby,” Hoseok snorted.

“I completely approve, by the way,” Yoonji chimed in, not even bothering to glance my way.

Here we go. I was about to shoot them all a glare when Y/N’s gentle touch on my thigh sent my heart soaring. My eyes darted to hers—she wore a smile that made everything else fade away.

“The cologne… maybe a tad too much?” I heard Serena say.

“Hey, I suggested that!” Yoonji shot back.

The banter continued, but I was lost in Y/N’s gaze, enchanted by the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled at me. The world around us dimmed; it was just her fingers entwined with mine, brushing softly against my palm, the gentle caress of her thumb sending shivers down my spine.

A moment too soon, Y/N turned to address the others. “Why do you guys talk about him like he’s not in the room?” Her words hung in the air, stunning everyone into silence.

I couldn’t believe it. In less than an hour, she had managed to charm my friends while cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

“Well, you’re with him now,” Yoonji finally said, a sly smile creeping across her face. “It’s our job to protect you.”

I would have preferred they protect me from their embarrassing stories, but Y/N seemed to revel in it.

“Protect me from what?” she asked, laughter bubbling in her voice.

“His awful sense of humor,” Serena said, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Okay, I’m warning you,” I said, grinning back. “You may want to turn around and leave right now.”

Y/N giggled, clearly enjoying herself.

“Hey, if you leave me now, I’m going to assume you’re all crazy,” she said, her smile wide and infectious. 

I couldn’t help but smile back, knowing this night was going to be unforgettable.

As night settled over us, the world transformed into a playground of laughter and playful banter, wrapped in a soft, velvety blanket. The drinks flowed like a tide, and my heart raced with the electric thrill of the evening. I watched Y/N mingle with my friends, and in that moment, something inside me sparked to life, hinting at possibilities I had yet to explore.

I leaned closer, our shoulders brushing, a daring move that sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “What are you doing to me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Just being me,” she replied, her tone light, but the glimmer in her eyes suggested deeper currents.

“Can I hold your hand?” The request slipped from my lips, fragile as a moth's wing.

Surprise flickered across her face as she weighed my words. “Yes.”

The moment our fingers intertwined, warmth rushed through me, narrowing my focus to the electric connection between us. In the distance, Hoseok's teasing banter continued, and Yoonji was lost in conversation with Serena, but they faded into the background. All that mattered was Y/N and the magnetic pull that bound us together.

Yoonji’s voice broke through my reverie. "I'm staying with Em and Serena tonight," she whispered in my ear.

“Yoonji, you don’t need to—”

“Nonsense!” she insisted, her grin stretching wide. “I love her,” she mouthed as she walked away, and I couldn’t help but smile, glancing down at Y/N.

“Oh, you’re not coming with us?” Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Nope! I need to help Serena pick an outfit for tomorrow. It was really nice to meet you, Y/N. I hope to see you soon!” Yoonji hugged her again, whispering something I couldn’t catch.

Before long, Y/N and I were walking toward my car. I opened the door for her, and she smiled as she slid in. As I drove to her apartment, she asked about Yoonji and our bond. I shared how I moved in with them when I was thirteen, how we’d become like siblings, grateful she didn’t pry into the reasons behind it. Tonight wasn’t the time for shadows of my past.

A comfortable silence fell between us, an unspoken acknowledgment of the fleeting moments we shared. Soon, we arrived in front of her building, and reality crashed in—I was running out of time.

“Can I be honest?” she asked, her voice breaking the silence like a warm breeze.

“Please… always.”

“I don’t want to go home just yet.” She looked at me through her lashes, and my heart raced, a wild beat echoing in my chest.

“Can I be honest too?” I asked, inching closer.

She nodded, biting her lip.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” I leaned in slightly.

Her breath hitched, and she let out a soft sigh. “Can I? Kiss you?” My voice was barely audible, filled with anticipation.

She nodded once, a small smile lighting up her face. I reached for her, brushing her hair back before gently cupping the nape of her neck and pulling her closer.

Our kiss started softly, exploring each other with tentative tenderness. But it quickly grew desperate, fueled by a hunger we could no longer deny. Her hand gripped my shirt, pulling me closer—just as eager. I let my hands roam, one resting on her thigh while the other tangled in her hair, my heart racing with every heartbeat.

“Y/N…” I breathed against her neck, fighting to maintain control. “You need to go inside now, or I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go.”

“Why don’t you come inside with me?” She pulled my face from her neck, her eyes shimmering with mischief and warmth. “Jessica should be gone by now. It’s Spring Break, remember? I might be the only undergrad left.”

The invitation hung in the air, electric and intoxicating. She wanted me to come home with her. Alone. My mind raced as I followed her into her cozy apartment, a space filled with personal touches and the inviting scent of vanilla.

“Welcome to Casa de Jess and Y/N!” she announced, her excitement infectious. “Do you want a tour, Mister?”

I grinned at her playful spirit. “If you’d be so kind, Madam.”

With exaggerated politeness, she led me through her apartment, showing off each room like a proud hostess. “And this is my bedroom.” When she opened the door, my breath caught. It looked like a whimsical explosion of color—pink and feathers everywhere, a bright pink comforter proclaiming “Little Princess” in white letters.

“Oh dear God…” I muttered, glancing around.

“What do you think?” she asked, a hint of seriousness in her tone.

I scratched my neck, searching for the right words. “Um… well… interesting choice of colors, Y/N.”

She burst into laughter, the sound bright and carefree, and I looked at her, puzzled.

“Oh my God! Your face! Priceless!” she exclaimed, doubling over in giggles. “This is Jessica's room!” She laughed so hard she had to lean against the doorframe for support.

“Oh thank God…” I exhaled in relief. “I don’t think I could sleep in here without having nightmares.” I leaned against the doorframe, smiling at the chaos.

But then, her expression shifted from playful to serious as she stepped closer. “Do you expect to be sleeping in my bed anytime soon, Mr. Min?”

“Shit… no… I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.” I ran a hand through my hair, mortified.

“Hey…” She stepped between my legs, her hand resting on my chest. “I was joking.” She smiled up at me, and my heart raced. I wanted her, needed her, craved her.

I traced her lip with my thumb. “You know what’s the first thing I noticed about you, Y/N?” She shook her head, her gaze locked on mine. “Your smile… It’s beautiful.”

Her smile widened. “When you smile, you get all gummy and your face softens. Your teeth are small, too. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable? Here I am, telling you I love your smile, and you tell me mine is imperfect. I’m hurt,” I joked, placing a hand over my heart.

“It’s not imperfect. It’s crooked and mind-blowingly sexy.” She giggled, and I couldn’t help but snort.

“See? There it is.” She framed my face with her hands and pulled me into a kiss. Her lips were soft, and I tried to crouch down to level us, but it felt awkward. Instead, I lifted her by the waist, her legs wrapping around my hips. Y/N’s arms encircled my neck as she deepened the kiss. When her tongue slipped into my mouth, I moaned, pressing her against the doorframe where laughter had just echoed.

My breath came in desperate gasps as I pulled away, kissing along her neck, but the fire ignited within me burned too bright to resist. Her whimpers drove me wild, and there was only so much I could take.

“Next door to the left,” she whispered in my ear.

Holy shit…

I carried her to her bedroom, still wrapped around me. As soon as I opened the door, her scent enveloped me, divine and overwhelming. Trying to stay composed, I ended up slumping onto the bed with her. She squealed and giggled, pulling off my polo shirt. Her hand traced patterns on my chest, making me shudder.

Every cell in my body was on high alert, every touch amplified.

"Y/N…" I groaned when her fingers traced the button-fly of my jeans. "You make me feel like a fucking teenager."

She giggled as my lips found hers. Her hand slipped into my boxers, and when she grasped me, I groaned loudly into her lips. She stroked me tentatively, softly but firmly. After a few strokes, it was too much.

"Y/N, stop… please," I begged, panting into her neck. "I’m going to cum in your hand. I need to slow down."

"Sorry." She released me, sighing. "Too much… too soon?"

"Yes… No… I-I just need a minute." I pressed my forehead into her neck, trying to regain control.

"Okay," she whispered, her hand returning to my hair.

My hands found their way under her shirt, pulling it off. The sight of her, arms stretched above her head, devilish smile on her lips, took my breath away.

"Polkadots?" I teased as her hands flew to my neck, pulling me back into a kiss. Her kisses were eager, biting and pulling at my lip, straining my self-control.

I kissed her neck, my hand slipping under her back. "God, you are so beautiful…" I whispered, unclasping her bra.

Her bra off, I trailed kisses from her neck to her chest, my hands cupping her breasts. Y/N squirmed under me, her moans driving me crazy.

"Can I touch you now?" Her voice was raspy with desire.

"Not yet," I whispered, unbuttoning her jeans.

"Not fair…" she moaned as my fingers dipped into her panties.

My fingers found nothing but wetness, silkiness, and smoothness, a tantalizing blend that drove me wild with anticipation. My dick throbbed painfully as I ground against her leg, barely able to contain myself any longer.

“God, Y/N…” I murmured, my voice a strained whisper.

She whimpered beneath me, her body trembling as my fingers traced circles to pleasure her. I slipped one finger inside, then another, and her scream of my name filled the room, echoing in my ears like a symphony of ecstasy. The sheer joy of her response made me want to cry into her neck.

“Yoongi, please…” she panted, her hands pulling at my hair, desperate. “I want to touch you… please… I need to feel you.”

God…

In one swift move, I had Y/N completely naked beneath me, her chest heaving with gasps. I fumbled for the condom in my wallet, and in mere seconds, I was naked too, hovering over her. Wrapping her wrist in my hand, I guided her to touch me—every inch of me.

Her hand clasped around me, guiding me to her entrance, spreading her wetness. I kept one hand on her breast, the other gripping the blanket next to her face, my control slipping with every passing second. Our eyes locked, the intensity between us palpable.

“Yoongi, what are we doing?” Her hand still gripped me, her voice a mix of wonder and worry.

“God… I don’t know…” I panted, my forehead resting on her neck.

“Is this wrong?”

“Feels right to me.” I groaned into her shoulder as she increased the pressure with her hand.

“I mean… isn’t this against the rules?”

How could she be coherent right now? I was on the brink of losing it, and I wasn’t even inside her yet!

“I-I don’t know, Y/N… Honestly, the rules are very blurry right now.”

“I want you,” she whispered huskily into my ear.

“God, Y/N. I want you too… so fucking much.”

“Would we get in trouble for this?” Her voice held a clear note of worry.

I lifted my head to meet her gaze. “I don’t know… I don’t care… Do you?”

Please, please, please, don’t ask me to stop now. Please…

She shook her head, pulling my face closer to hers in a kiss, positioning herself for me to enter her.

Thank you, God.

Our eyes stayed locked as our bodies connected, the sensation of being surrounded by her utterly mind-blowing. I needed a moment to adjust, Y/N’s moans and the arch of her back driving me insane as I slowly reached the deepest part of her.

I pulled out as slowly as I could manage, then pushed back in. My eyes rolled back, hands gripping her hips, a moan escaping through my clenched jaw. Nothing in my life had ever compared to this, to being with her. No one came even close.

Our bodies moved in sync, and a new terror gripped me: the fear of not lasting long enough to satisfy her. I sought distractions in her breasts, her neck, her lips, but every part of her only turned me on more.

So, I distracted myself mentally, reciting the first thing that came to mind:

There’s antimony, arsenic, aluminum, selenium… And hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and rhenium... And nickel, neodymium, neptunium, germanium… And iron, americium, ruthenium, uranium…

The words spun through my mind, a desperate attempt to hold onto control, as I plunged deeper into the intoxicating feeling of her.

It's Tuesday morning, and the sun hasn't even thought about rising yet. The lab calls out to me with its endless list of tasks, each one promising that today won't be long enough to tackle them all. I feel exhausted, bone-deep weary from days that have been both draining and, honestly, the best of my life.

Y/N and I spent the weekend wrapped up in each other, mostly on her bed or the couch. It’s a novel experience for me—taking a break from work on a weekend—but I still managed to squeeze in some research: exploring every inch of Y/N’s body, learning her curves, her soft spots, and the way she sighs when she’s lost in the moment. I’m hopelessly addicted, and I doubt I’ll ever get enough.

In between those moments of passion, she opened up about her family, her childhood, and the accident that changed everything. I kept my past hidden, deflecting the conversation back to her with more questions. I learned that I influenced her decision to join Jin’s lab; she remembered me from my time as her oblivious T.A. I teased her about being a little stalker, but the truth is, I loved hearing her talk.

Y/N could chatter for hours, and more surprisingly, I found that I could listen willingly and happily. She’s an amazing cook, and with each passing day, she feels more and more like a miracle. I kept adding to my mental list of quirky Y/N facts: her underwear is never a solid color—always striped or patterned, like the bra with little pineapples. She re-watches movies until she knows the dialogue by heart. When she made me watch a film about the Titanic, I laughed when I thought it was a documentary. After that, I decided against any sailing plans.

But Monday brought a harsh return to reality. Seeing her in the lab, just out of reach, was torture—pun intended. She wanted to dive into her experiments, and since I skipped the lab all weekend, I had a mountain of work to tackle. We managed to keep things professional, but the tension in the air was thick. Monday nights were reserved for her family’s Skype calls, leaving me alone, tossing and turning in my bed, missing her like crazy.

As I trudged through the hallways, still groggy, I spotted Y/N sitting by the lab door. With her earphones in, she was bobbing her head, lost in her own world. The moment she saw me, she pulled them out, a broad smile lighting up her face.

I swear I’ll never tire of that smile…

“God, Y/N. What are you doing here so early?” I grumble, struggling to match her morning cheer.

“I couldn’t sleep! I’m dying to see if the experiment worked!” she exclaims, bouncing on her toes.

Of course…

“Mhm” I mumble, fumbling for the keys. 

“It’s nerve-racking! A whole day of work, then waiting sixteen hours—sixteen hours!—to see the results?” 

The key sticks in the lock, and I jiggle it impatiently. 

“C’mon, c’mon…” she chants, practically bouncing.

“Y/N…” I groan, turning to her. “I haven’t had coffee yet. Would you calm down?”

Finally, the door clicks open, and she bolts inside, nearly tripping over me. She rushes straight to the incubator, while I drag myself to my desk, her excited chants of “YES! YES! YES!” echoing behind me.

I can’t help but snort. I guess her experiment worked.

She sets the petri dishes on the bench, and her squeal of delight fills the room. “They worked!” she cries, launching herself at me. I barely catch her as she wraps her legs around my waist.

How does she have this much energy? It’s not even eight yet!

“Jesus Christ, woman! What are you on this morning?” 

Her arms encircle my neck, and she beams at me, making my own lips twitch upward.

“Hi, Grumpy.” She runs a hand through my hair.

“Hi…”

“Good morning.”

“Morning, Y/N.”

Her lips find mine, and I’m a goner. I moan into her mouth as she tugs at my hair, ready to take her right there on the bench, on the floor—anywhere. But we’re in the lab.

“Y/N…” I whisper, kissing her neck.

“Hmmm?”

“Someone might come in.” I nibble her earlobe, making her squirm.

“It’s early,” she whispers, her voice husky as she pulls at my hair. 

God…

I set her down on the bench, clumsily knocking over some plates. “Shit... sorry.” I try to pick them up, but she’s pulling at my jeans, pressing herself against me, and I make a bigger mess.

“Did you touch my samples?” she asks, feigning anger, echoing my words from when I snapped at her earlier.

I smile, but the way she bites her lip and the hooded look in her eyes snaps my resolve. My lips crash into hers, and my hands slide under her shirt as I press her back onto the bench, scattering more plates.

Fuck, I’m going to ruin her experiment.

I lift her, her legs locking around my waist. I mean to move her to the unused bench behind me, but her grinding against me messes with my balance. I knock over a chair, slamming my back against the corner of the bench. Groaning in pain, I secure her in my arms.

“Are you okay?” 

The pain clears my head. Reality rushes back, and I realize what we’re about to do—in the lab, on a Tuesday morning, when anyone could walk in.

Just then, I hear rattling keys from the hallway.

Fuck…

I set Y/N down, and she stumbles. I steady her, stepping back just as Jimin walks in.

Y/N smooths her shirt, picking up plates, her face a vivid crimson. I run a hand through my hair, rubbing my sore back with the other. The pain is nothing compared to the throbbing in my pants, but there’s no fixing that now.

Jimin looks at us, eyebrows raised, then heads to his desk. I let out a sigh, glancing at Y/N—she’s still picking up plates, cheeks burning.

Could we be any more obvious?

Y/N and I were deep in conversation about her results, our voices low enough that Jimin, across the lab, pretended not to be listening. Y/N’s work was nothing short of exceptional, and while pride swelled within me, I needed to keep it grounded in reality. Success like this was rare; she needed to understand its value, to cherish it, but also to brace for the inevitable setbacks.

“Are you familiar with Murphy’s Law?” I asked as she finished jotting down her notes.

“Of course,” she replied, turning to face me, her eyes sparkling. “Did you know his first name was Edward?”

“What? No.” Murphy, as far as I was concerned, was just Murphy.

“Yep. Edward Murphy,” she said, her face serious as she began tidying up her workspace.

“You’re kidding,” I said, moving closer, disbelief evident in my voice.

“Nope.”

“How do you know that?”

“I watch Jeopardy a lot.” A small, embarrassed smile tugged at her lips as our eyes met.

“Why am I not surprised?” I muttered, watching her shrug off her lab coat. Her movements were effortlessly captivating.

“Were you going to say something about Murphy?” she asked, snapping me out of my daze.

“Yeah, right,” I said, shaking off the distraction. “Murphy’s Law applies to the lab too.”

“Oh, I know. ‘Everything that can go wrong will go wrong,’” she recited, her tone matter-of-fact.

“Exactly.” I nodded, impressed.

“But I don’t believe in that,” she said firmly, a spark of defiance lighting her features.

“Of course you don’t.” I had inched closer, almost beside her now.

She gestured toward her successful experiment, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. “Murphy was just a pessimist.”

“And you’re a glass-half-full kind of person?” I probed, towering over her with a teasing grin.

“Technically, the glass is always full. Half with water, half with air.” Her eyes crinkled with mischief.

“Are you trying to be a smart ass?” I leaned my elbow on the bench, bringing us face to face.

“That depends,” she said, her voice dropping, locking her gaze onto mine. 

“On what?”

“Do you like smart asses?” She traced a finger along my forearm, sending an electric jolt through my body.

I staggered back, giving her a warning look. She couldn’t be doing this to me—not now.

“Anyway,” she continued, taking a deep breath, “how many of Murphy’s laws do you know?”

Classic Y/N—always one step ahead. I sighed, admitting, “Just the one.”

“That’s it?” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Enlighten me, then.”

“‘Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse,’” she recited proudly, and I found her knowledge oddly attractive.

A glance at the clock reminded me of the work ahead. How inconvenient.

“That’s a good one. And it’s true,” I said.

“‘Matter will be damaged in direct proportion to its value,’” she continued.

I chuckled. “Also true.”

“Yoongi, you’re one of the grumpiest, most pessimistic people I know, and you don’t know any of these?” She placed her hands on her hips, teasing me with that playful spark in her eyes.

That was it. I straightened from the bench, glaring at her. She was provoking me, and God, did I want her.

“Last one, I promise,” she said with a smile. “’Hot glass looks exactly the same as cold glass.’ Learned that one the hard way.”

Our laughter mingled until Jimin cleared his throat behind us. “Can you keep it down? I’m trying to do science here.”

I rolled my eyes at Jimin, then turned back to Y/N, who was smoothing her ponytail, giggles subsiding. Her happiness was infectious, and I got lost in her eyes.

“Y/N,” I said, struggling to keep my voice even, “we should check on that gel.”

“What gel?” she asked, puzzled.

“The gel, Y/N.” I stared at her, hoping she’d understand.

“Oh… right,” she said, her smile turning knowing.

I followed her to the dark room, anticipation thrumming in my veins. Once inside, I switched off the lights, activating the IN USE signal. Y/N took a sharp breath, her excitement palpable.

“Are you trying to drive me mad?” I whispered, reaching for her face in the darkness.

“Maybe,” she whispered back, her breath warm against my skin.

My hands traveled to her neck, fingers sliding under her ponytail to release her hair. “Y/N… this isn’t smart. We could get caught.” I lifted her onto the counter, the cold bench pressing into my back.

“Not smart,” she agreed, her breath hitching against my neck.

“Do you know how hard it is to keep my hands off you when you provoke me?” My hand slipped under her shirt, cupping her breast. She gasped, and I pressed myself closer, making my point clear.

“Oh, it’s hard all right,” she giggled, wrapping her legs around me.

“You drive me insane, Y/N,” I murmured, biting her lip. She moaned softly, fisting my hair. “Please… can I?”

“Oh God, yes… Yoongi, please.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. I lifted her with one hand, fumbling with the buttons of her jeans with the other. In seconds, I was inside her, stifling my moans into her shoulder.

God bless a dark room.

The weeks drift by in a blur of lab work and secret rendezvous. Y/N is a constant distraction—she teases me, contradicts me, drives me mad, excites me, motivates me, and challenges me all at once. I’ve never felt happier. Having her in my life has transformed my days from monotonous routines into a whirlwind of laughter and unexpected joy. I catch myself cracking jokes that aren’t laced with sarcasm, and I genuinely enjoy explaining new techniques to her, savoring our discussions and her insightful challenges. I never imagined mentoring could be so thrilling—or so fulfilling. Y/N pushes me to be better, to be happier, to have fun.

The lab buzzes with the unspoken tension of our secret. I’m sure everyone suspects something, but we maintain a facade of professionalism. Our attempts to date outside the lab are constantly thwarted by inconvenient encounters with colleagues. It’s frustrating as hell. I don’t care what people think, but the risk of getting into trouble with Jin or Y/N losing her chance to work in the lab keeps us cautious. So, we play the game, keeping up appearances, even though we’ve stolen away to the dark room eight times… not that I’m counting.

As the semester winds down, it becomes harder to heed Yoonji’s advice not to overthink the future. Y/N hopes to land a summer internship in the lab, but I haven’t had the heart to tell her how unlikely that is. Jin has never offered an internship after just one semester. I could vouch for her, but she’s adamant about not wanting special treatment. The thought of her securing an internship elsewhere, leaving for the summer, gnaws at me. The impending separation looms like a dark cloud, promising a long and miserable summer.

Tonight, Jin is hosting the department's end-of-semester party. I sit in my car, ready to drive Y/N there, trying to suppress my annoyance at having to pretend all night. We’re picking up Hoseok and Serena too, a cover to avoid suspicion. Waiting in the car like some kind of creep, I watch the building's entrance.

Then I see her, and all my irritation dissipates. Thank God for May weather—Y/N is wearing a skirt. She smiles at me through the window, and as she gets in, her lips meet mine, her hands finding their way to my neck. I encircle her waist, breathing in deeply, savoring her scent. Even after two months, my need for her is as urgent as ever.

“Hi…” she breathes as she pulls back, her fingers tracing patterns in my hair. I close my eyes, enjoying her touch.

“Hi…” I murmur, resting my forehead against hers. “You’re wearing a skirt.” I groan, my hand sliding down from her waist, over her thigh, and under the soft fabric.

“I am,” she says, her lips brushing my neck. I tease her inner thigh, each stroke inching closer to where I want my fingers to be. “What are you doing?” she whispers in my ear.

“I don’t want to go to this thing.” I nibble her earlobe. “Can we just stay here?” My fingers hover over her panties, but she traps my hand between her thighs.

“No…” she breathes, her voice shaky. “You promised we’d go. Jin invited me personally. Please.”

Her plea makes me relent, and I move back, our foreheads still touching. “But you’re wearing a skirt. You know what that does to me?” I caress her thigh again, unable to resist.

“I have an idea,” she giggles.

“I’m going to be hard and uncomfortable the whole time,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.

“I’ll take care of it afterward,” she promises. I groan again, starting the car.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

As I drive, Y/N fumbles with the radio, displeased with the music.

“Oh, I know!” She reaches for the glove box. “Can we listen to this?” She holds up my mom’s Carpenters CD.

My chest tightens, but I try to smile. I haven’t told her about my parents, and while she knows I moved in with my aunt and uncle as a kid, she hasn’t pried. She’s giving me time, waiting for me to open up.

“Not a chance,” I snap, slipping into our usual banter.

“C’mon, I want to listen to it.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Why have a Carpenters CD if you don’t like them?”

“Y/N…”

I really don’t want to get into it tonight.

“Just one song, please?” Her eager eyes and smile make it impossible to refuse. I nod, focusing on the road. She opens the case and sees my mom’s note, and my chest tightens again.

“Oh…” she says softly. “You didn’t want me to see this.” She closes the case. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. Just put the CD on. It’s fine.”

“No, Yoongi. This obviously has sentimental value. I’m sorry.” Concern etches her features.

“Hey, don’t be upset.” I reach for her face, my thumb brushing her cheek. “Let’s forget it. I’ll tell you about the note another time. Okay?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, eyes locked on mine.

“It’s fine.” I smile, pushing thoughts of my parents away. I grab my iPod, knowing exactly what will cheer her up. When The Police starts playing, her smile returns, and all feels right in the world.

I place my hand over hers on her thigh, the sensation of the skirt fabric under our intertwined fingers reminding me of the night ahead.

Oh God, the skirt, the party… this is going to be hell.

“Hey, Y/N! Ready to mingle with the senior citizens?” Hoseok’s voice cuts through the chatter as he hops into the car and settles behind me.

“So, what’s the plan?” Serena chimes in, sliding into the backseat beside Y/N.

“Can we please keep this low-key? We’re just giving Y/N a ride, nothing more,” I say, trying to keep the irritation from seeping into my tone. Of course, they ignore me.

“Y/N, how about you and I walk in first? The boys can follow behind us,” Serena suggests, leaning forward to prop herself between our seats like a self-appointed traffic cop.

“Or… I could stroll in with Y/N, my arm around her shoulders. You know, start some fun rumors,” Hoseok pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Ow!” He yelps as Serena gives him a swift elbow to the ribs. “Come on, babe! I was just joking!”

“Seriously, Hoseok. That dog act is getting old,” I mutter, catching Serena’s annoyed glare in the rearview mirror.

“How is this not a big deal?” I groan under my breath.

“How about we all walk in holding hands? All four of us!” Y/N suggests, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I turn to scowl at her. “You too?” She flashes me a grin, scrunching her nose playfully.

We finally pull up to Jin's house, and as we pile out of the car, I notice Y/N walking ahead, chatting with Serena. I fall back next to Hoseok, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. 

Inside, Y/N glances back at me, then disappears into the crowd. I greet Jin and grab a drink, then find a spot by the back wall. Familiar faces from the lab are scattered around, some with their families. I find myself chatting with a few of them, even playing with a little kid in a sweater that says “Future Scientist.” I snort at the irony—here's hoping he grows up to be an engineer instead.

To my surprise, I’m not hating this night. I lean against the wall, stealing glances at Y/N as she lights up while talking to Prof. Tanner, one of the few female professors in our department. I’ve heard she can be a total nightmare, but she’s all smiles for Y/N. What gives? 

As Y/N mingles, I can’t help but wonder if there’s anyone who wouldn’t be drawn to her charm. Just then, Jungkook appears out of nowhere, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. My heart races, and I shoot up from my chair.

“She’s got it under control,” Serena whispers, her grip firm on my elbow as we watch Y/N step away from Jungkook, saying something before he wanders off. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, sinking back down in my seat. Y/N glances my way, her eyes briefly meeting mine before she moves on.

“Yoongi, you need to get it together. You’re staring at her like some creepy stalker,” Serena says, finally releasing my elbow.

I sigh, knowing she’s right. We bicker a lot, but beneath her icy exterior, she really does look out for me.

Hoseok appears, holding another round of drinks, and I begin to feel a little lighter. But when I find Y/N again, she’s deep in conversation with Jin. I can see the passion in her gestures, the way she lights up as she talks about her project. It fills me with pride to see how far she’s come this semester, how confident she is now.

Jin glances at me a couple of times during their conversation. I try to focus on my drink, but the curiosity gnaws at me. Is he proud of her? Does he see what I see?

“Dude, Jimin is giving you a death stare,” Hoseok whispers, snapping me out of my thoughts. I follow his gaze and meet Jimin’s dark brown eyes. He quickly looks away, a slight frown on his face.

I shrug, trying to shake off the feeling of unease. “He has a weird stare. You think he suspects something?”

“Probably,” Hoseok says. “I don’t know how much longer you can keep this charade up. It’s torture.” I rub my chest, where a tightness has been growing since Y/N walked away.

“Jeon can’t take a hint, huh?” Hoseok mutters, and I see Y/N accepting a drink from Jungkook.

Are you kidding me?

My hand tightens into a fist on my thigh as I down the rest of my drink, a wave of frustration crashing over me. Y/N smiles at Jungkook, and while I’m somewhat relieved to see it doesn’t reach her eyes like when she smiles at me, it still makes my blood boil. I want her by my side, to claim her as mine. I want Jungkook to back off.

“Dude, calm down,” Hoseok says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I turn to him, exhaling sharply through my nose.

My night is crumbling, and I feel on the verge of snapping.

“I can’t, okay? I’m going to take a breather.” I stand abruptly, forcing myself not to look for Y/N again. I know if I see her with him, I might lose it and drag her away like some caveman.

“Want me to come with you?” Hoseok asks, his concern evident.

“No, I’m fine,” I reply, but my tone lacks conviction.

I storm into Jin’s sprawling backyard, seeking solace in the shadows. I need to figure out what’s happening inside my head. Why does this pressure in my chest hurt so much? It’s ridiculous—I shouldn’t be feeling like this over someone. I should be rational. 

Sinking onto a bench, I rest my head in my hands. 

God, I’m losing my mind. Or maybe I’m turning into a hypochondriac… or both.

I just want Y/N. I need her. I miss her. I love her.

My head falls back against the bench. 

Is this what love feels like? 

Suddenly, I hear a soft voice. “Hey… what’s wrong?” 

I didn’t even notice Y/N coming outside. I lift my head and lean back, letting out a deep sigh.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” I say, but the anger slips through despite my best efforts.

“Yoongi…” She sits beside me and takes my hand in hers.

“This party sucks!” I snap, but she doesn’t flinch. She never does. Y/N knows me too well, understands my rough edges. I never want to take my frustration out on her.

“What sucks?” Her voice is steady, soothing. How does she do it?

“This stupid party…” I trail off, staring at our hands.

She laughs lightly. “Are you drunk?”

“No! I’m not!” Realizing I raised my voice again, I groan and try to regain my composure. “I want you beside me. I want to tell Jungkook to back off because you’re mine. I want to hold your hand, put my arm around you, keep you warm. I don’t want to hide this anymore.”

“I know…” Y/N reaches for my face, her fingers brushing my hair behind my ear. I lean into her touch, closing my eyes as her words unravel me. “I want to be beside you too,” she whispers, and it feels like the world has shifted. “But right now, it’s not smart for us. The semester is almost over. I’ll find an internship in a different lab, and then we won’t have to hide anymore.”

So I’m screwed either way. If she finds a different lab, we won’t have to keep this secret, but I won’t get to see her every day. And if she stays, we’ll be stuck in this limbo.

“Can we go soon?” I plead, my frustration boiling over. I want to escape this place, take Y/N somewhere safe where I can finally let myself be with her.

“We just got here,” she giggles, trying to lighten the mood. “Stop being so grumpy and let’s get back inside.” She rises, but I grip her hand tightly.

“You know I hate when you call me grumpy.”

“No, you don’t. You love it,” she counters with a bright smile.

I do love it. And I love you.

The words sit heavy on my tongue, burning to be spoken, but I hold them back.

I pulled her gently between my legs, my hand finding its way to her cheek as I brought our lips together. She kissed me back, soft and tentative, but then, with a push against my chest, she pulled away.

I groaned, rising from the bench. “I’ll go in first. You follow in a few minutes, okay?” I needed a moment to gather my thoughts, and the warmth of her fingers lingering on my chest felt like a whisper of reassurance.

“Yeah…” I breathed out, almost a whine.

“And try to have some fun.” She shot me a playful smile that sent a flutter through my chest.

“Yeeees…” I groaned again, turning to walk away.

“You’re being a big baby, you know that, right?” Her teasing tone made me roll my eyes.

“Y/N, don’t provoke me,” I sighed, tugging at the hair on the back of my neck.

“Okay, okay.” She giggled, her laughter lightening the air between us. “I promise to sit by you for a bit.” With that, she let me head inside alone.

I lingered outside for a few more moments, trying to cool off and collect my thoughts before re-entering the fray.

Just as I was about to step back in, Jimin stumbled outside, looking a bit worse for wear. “Yoongi! There you are,” he said, plopping down on the bench next to me.

“Jimin,” I greeted, not really in the mood for small talk.

“So… are you like social now?” he asked, his words slurred from the alcohol he’d consumed.

“What do you mean?” I feigned interest, though I really didn’t care.

“You never used to come to these things,” he pointed out, sounding suspicious, as if I’d committed some sort of crime.

I shrugged and stood up, feeling the urge to escape. “Are you sleeping with your undergrad?” he blurted, trying to whisper but failing miserably.

A glare shot across my face as I realized he suspected something. Jimin was definitely too drunk for this conversation. “Jimin, I think you should stop drinking,” I advised, and when he just stared blankly, I added, “I better get back inside before Hoseok thinks I left without him.” I didn’t wait for his reply as I headed back in.

Y/N was sitting with Hoseok and Serena when I walked over, and the moment she smiled at me, my chest tightened with a mix of longing and pride. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her hand or leg, but I managed to sit back, trying to play it cool. 

I was surprisingly glad I’d come. I’d anticipated a dull evening, but it turned out to be quite enjoyable. Watching Y/N all dolled up, chatting with everyone, filled me with a sense of pride. 

Then, as Jin started playing Nelly, the atmosphere shifted. Seeing Dr. Amun-Kebi, bow tie and all, dancing to “Hot in Here” was an image that would be burned in my memory forever.

Later, Y/N paced nervously through my room in her underwear, her damp hair leaving a faint mist in the air. I watched her, my heart pounding at the sight of her anxious movements as she rummaged through her bag. The tension felt heavy, almost suffocating.

“Y/N, you’re going to do great,” I said, my voice still laced with sleep as I tried to offer her some comfort.

“You don’t know that,” she replied tightly, finally finding what she was looking for. 

“You know this stuff better than anyone else in that room,” I said, propping myself up on my elbows to catch her gaze.

“That’s not true. You’ll be there too.” She faced me, comb in hand, her worry evident as she began to untangle her wet hair.

“Exactly! So, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” I flashed her a reassuring smile, but it felt weak against her rising anxiety.

“I stutter when I’m nervous,” she admitted, her voice wavering as she pulled out her clothes and bent over, her vulnerability stark against the backdrop of my cluttered room.

“Then try to relax,” I said, taking a deep breath. “You’ve put in so much work, and you know your project inside and out. You’ll do amazing, Y/N.”

“What if Jin asks me something I don’t know?” Panic danced in her eyes as she placed her hands on her hips.

“You don’t have to know everything. I’ll be there too—this is my project too. Remember, it’s not a test. The point is to discuss the results together, nothing more.”

Slowly, her frown faded, replaced by a tentative grin. She climbed back onto the bed, straddling me, her wet hair dripping onto my shoulder. The scent of her filled the air, intoxicating, as she leaned in to kiss me softly.

I lay back, tracing the strap of her bra with my finger. “I know how to get you to relax,” I teased.

“Not a chance, Grumpy. We’d be late,” she shot back, rubbing against me just enough to send a bolt of desire through my body.

“Y/N, you’re such a tease,” I groaned, dropping my head back in exasperation.

“And you have a foul mouth, Min,” she replied, disappearing into the bathroom, her voice echoing playfully.

“Which, coincidentally, you love,” I called after her.

She poked her head out, toothbrush in her mouth. “That… I do.”

With a lazy stretch, I got up from the bed, dragging my feet toward the bathroom. She stood by the sink, brushing her teeth in her adorable smiley-face underwear, making me ache with need. “You’re going to pay for my blue balls tonight,” I murmured into her neck, eliciting a giggle as my stubble brushed against her soft skin. 

She bent over to rinse her mouth, pressing her behind into the growing bulge in my boxers, causing a deep groan to escape my lips. I playfully smacked her ass as she squealed, darting out of the bathroom.

“Don’t take forever, Grumpy. I want to be early to set things up!”

Y/N and I stood in the seminar room, preparing everything for the presentation. The space was cozy, just big enough for the nine of us in our group, including Jin. After confirming that all the slides displayed correctly, I shot Y/N an encouraging smile and took a seat toward the back, keeping a close eye on her.

I could see the nerves bubbling beneath her composed exterior. We had gone over every detail last night, and I knew she was ready for this moment.

Jin kicked things off with some lab business, and then it was Y/N’s turn to shine. As she started her talk, she stumbled over her words just once at the beginning, but quickly found her rhythm, her confidence blossoming with every passing second. My heart swelled with pride as I watched her speak; she was absolutely incredible.

Jin seemed impressed too, prompting her to elaborate on a few points, which she handled flawlessly. But then Jimin jumped in with questions that felt a bit off-base, probing into unrelated techniques and approaches. Y/N stumbled over a couple of his inquiries, but she made educated guesses, maintaining her poise. Still, I could feel my irritation rising. What the hell was Jimin’s problem?

“That was all nice… uh… Y/N?” Jimin hesitated, clearly relishing the moment as he mispronounced her name. My blood boiled at his deliberate slight. 

“I just don’t see the point.”

“The p-point?” Y/N stuttered again, and it took everything in me to keep my temper in check. I wanted to tear Jimin apart for being such a jerk.

“Yeah, I mean… so you found two new toxin genes. How is that going to help anything?” Jimin shrugged dismissively, and I could feel my frustration reaching a boiling point.

Before Y/N could respond, I jumped in, my voice sharper than I intended. “Oh, I’m sorry, Jimin. Are you questioning the impact of my research?”

Jimin turned to face me, a smug expression creeping across his face.

“Yoongi…” Jin’s warning gaze made it clear I needed to rein it in.

“No, seriously. Please, tell me if you are,” I shot back, my eyes locking onto Jimin's, daring him to continue.

“Actually,” Y/N interjected softly from the front of the room, pulling our attention back to her. “I think I might be able to answer that question.” She glanced at me for permission, and I nodded, stepping back to let her take the spotlight.

“Please, go ahead,” Jin encouraged her, his tone supportive.

“Well… if these two toxins are, as we’ve shown, involved in the cancerous growth of stomach epithelium cells, then studying their protein structure and interaction will provide insight into the anomalous stomach pathology caused by H. pylori… and its possible cure.”

I couldn’t have put it better myself. My heart swelled with pride and something deeper. Marry me?

“Marvelous!” Jin exclaimed, while Jimin huffed, sinking into his chair in defeat. My annoyance at Jimin evaporated, replaced by overwhelming joy. I couldn’t take my eyes off Y/N as she smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears. I wanted to run to her, scoop her up in my arms, and kiss her senseless, but I managed to stay seated, a wide grin plastered on my face.

As the room emptied, I lingered behind with Y/N, pretending to help pack up the projector and laptop. It was just an excuse to stay close to her, to contain the waves of emotions crashing inside me. Jin congratulated her one last time before leaving, and I counted his steps, waiting until he was far enough away. My heart raced, and when I could wait no longer, I dropped everything and rushed to Y/N, cupping her face in my hands and kissing her desperately.

“You did amazing!” I said, my voice breathless with excitement.

“I was so nervous!” she admitted, her eyes wide.

“I know, but you nailed it!” I kissed her again, unable to get enough of her.

Still holding her face, I searched her eyes. “Geez, Y/N… you’re incredible. I—” I leaned closer, resting my hands on the table behind her, my lips trying to convey everything words couldn’t. It was more than just her success or my pride as a scientist; it was so much deeper than that.

“I want to cook you dinner tonight,” I said, pulling her into a tight embrace.

She smiled up at me. “You do?”

“Yes. We’re having a celebration date at my place.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” I kissed the top of her head, reluctantly letting her go as we gathered our things to head back to the lab. My heart was full, my mind racing with excitement and a twinge of fear. I’d never been happier in my life.

Now the only question was: what on earth was I going to cook for Y/N?

We returned to the lab, the earlier tension between Y/N and me fading as we wrapped up our tasks. Her eyes sparkled with determination as she headed off for her final exam, and we agreed to meet at my apartment for dinner later. Just as I was about to slip out early to prepare, an email notification pinged in my inbox.

From: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Sent: Friday, May 13, 2024, 4:27 PM   To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu  

Yoongi,

We need to talk about your undergrad. Please stop by my office.

Jin

-

Dr. Seokjin Kim   Member, Division of Basic Sciences   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024  

Shit. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Jin had never summoned me to his office like this before. He usually came down to the lab if he wanted to talk. The email's terse tone sent a chill racing down my spine. There was only one reason he’d call me in like this—he knew about Y/N and me. 

That jerk, Jimin, must have said something. 

No point speculating now; I had to face Jin. My heart raced as I imagined the worst. He’d tell me Y/N and I couldn’t be together, that she wouldn’t be able to work in the lab anymore. The thought twisted my gut with regret. I should have been more careful, kept my feelings in check.

Shit.

I knocked on Jin’s door and stepped inside. He was facing his computer, barely glancing at me as I sank into the chair across from him. 

“Hello, Yoongi. Take a seat,” he said, his voice calm but layered with an undercurrent I couldn’t quite place. “Let me just finish this email.”

I watched him type, the sound of the keys echoing like a death knell. Finally, he turned, a smile dancing on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. I nodded, trying to mask my nerves, my hands gripping the chair arms.

“I have to say, I was very impressed with Y/N’s seminar. She showed a broad knowledge of the project, answered questions confidently, and gathered an impressive amount of data for just one semester.”

“She is incredible,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Nice, Yoongi. Way to keep it cool.

Jin raised an eyebrow, nodding. “She does seem very mature, dedicated, and hardworking.”

“She is.” I couldn’t help but think of all the moments we’d shared, both in the lab and out.

“So, I called you in here for two things. First, I want to offer Y/N a position as a summer intern. What do you think?” 

My heart leaped. Jin had never offered an undergrad a position after just one semester. This was amazing! Y/N was going to be thrilled. 

“That’s… um… that’s great! She completely deserves it, and it would be an incredible opportunity for her. She wants to apply to grad school next fall, so summer research would be really beneficial.”

“I see… so you approve?” Jin asked, tilting his head.

The way he looked at me made my blood run cold. He didn’t need my approval. Something was off.

“O-of course,” I stammered, my instincts telling me there was more to this conversation.

“Well, that leads to the second thing I wanted to discuss.” He shifted in his chair, crossing his legs as if he were settling in for a serious talk. 

Here we go…

“It seems you have a very close relationship with Y/N. You seem very… protective of her.”

I knew it! Jimin must have spilled the beans. My fists clenched at the thought.

“Now, I understand it’s in your nature—her being under your care and all—to be protective. But there’s something else,” Jin continued, tapping his finger against his lips thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed the change she’s brought about in you. It’s fascinating.”

Geez… Jin and his fascination.

Before I could respond, he went on. “Of course, I would never ask if there’s something unprofessional going on because that would be tactless. However, you should know that involving yourself in a romantic relationship with an undergrad—especially if she’ll be getting paid for the summer—is completely unacceptable.”

Fucking shit.

My hands gripped the chair so tightly that my knuckles turned white. I couldn’t do this. Hiding my feelings for Y/N felt impossible, but I’d have to—for her sake. This was an incredible opportunity. We’d have to keep it up until she graduated. Damn, that was a whole year! Maybe I could graduate sooner, find a job in another lab…

Jin was staring at me, eyebrows raised, when suddenly he burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the small office.

“I’m just messing with you, kid.” He slapped his thighs as his laughter subsided. “Your personal life outside this lab is none of my business. As long as it doesn’t affect your work or hers, I have no problem with it.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. Did he just say what I thought he said?

“You know, when I met Mrs. Kim, she was a post-doc in this lab.”

“I didn’t know that…” I exhaled, the tension draining from my body.

“Well, now that this is settled, I’ll offer Y/N the position.”

“O-okay.”

Still in shock, I left Jin’s office. Before I even reached the lab, my phone rang—Y/N, squealing about Jin’s offer. I didn’t mention my conversation with him; I’d save that for tonight during our celebration dinner.

Our celebration dinner… Oh God. What was I thinking? I couldn’t cook!

I definitely needed to stop at the grocery store unless I wanted to serve Y/N mac and cheese for dinner. Sighing, I realized I had no idea what to prepare. Time to turn to my all-knowing best friend: Google.

Search: What to cook for your girlfriend? Search Results: 5 Easy Meals To Cook For Her – AskMen.com

AskMen.com? Seriously? 

Chipotle Shrimp Kabobs…

What the actual fuck?

Sautéed Lemon Garlic Chicken…

Really, AskMen? Really? 

I groaned, frustration bubbling up. This was not going well. Maybe I should try again.

Search: Easy dinner for two Search Results: Cooking for Two Recipes – Allrecipes.com

Allrecipes.com? I think I’ve heard Yoonji mention this site before. 

Salmon with Raspberry Ginger Glaze…

Holy shit! And these are the easy ones?

I slammed my forehead against the desk repeatedly. Okay, maybe I should stick to something I already knew how to make… like grilled cheese. Or pasta! I could whip up some pasta sauce.

Search: Easy Pasta Sauce Search Results: Easy Vodka Sauce – Allrecipes.com

Now we’re talking. 

I jotted down all the ingredients and headed to the store, feeling a flicker of hope.

I was chopping onions into tiny squares when my phone buzzed with a text from Y/N.

Undergrad: I’m done with the semester! Woot! Woot! Do you want me to come early to help with dinner?

Yes… please… no!

C’mon, I can handle this. How hard could it be? Just follow the protocol, Min.

Me: What? No faith in me, Y/L/N?

I typed quickly, trying not to let the onion juice splatter all over my cell. 

Shit…

Undergrad: I would prefer not to get food poisoning. I have an internship this summer! :)”

I couldn’t help but smile at the screen.

Me: You’re distracting me. See you here at 7. P.S. Smiley faces are lame.”

Undergrad: And you, my Grumpy, are adorable!

I chuckled, my heart racing with excitement. Maybe I could do this after all. Just as long as I didn’t burn the kitchen down.

When Y/N knocked at the door, it was only a quarter to seven. I had the garlic bread in the oven, and the sauce still needed another thirty minutes to simmer. I’d hoped to squeeze in a quick shower before she arrived, but clearly, that plan was a bust.

I opened the door to find Y/N standing there, a bright smile lighting up her face. “Did you wrestle the tomatoes?” she giggled, tiptoeing in for a quick kiss. “Hi…”

I wanted nothing more than to pull her close, but I was covered in tomato juice and splatters from head to toe. “Give me a sec,” I said, retreating to my bedroom to change.

When I returned, she was by the sink, eyes wide as she surveyed the chaos I’d created. “Geez, Yoongi. How many things are you making?” She gestured dramatically to the pile of pots and utensils stacked high.

“Just the one dish, Y/N,” I replied, trying to sound casual while stirring the bubbling sauce.

“Did you feel the need to use every pot in the kitchen? Were you trying them all out?” She raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Okay, Y/L/N. You’re getting on my nerves. I’m trying to cook here.” I continued mixing, trying to ignore her playful jabs.

“You should use a wooden spoon,” she advised, inching closer with a wooden spoon in hand. “The metal one makes the sauce acidic. The metal reacts with the pH of the tomatoes—”

I shot her a glare. “I didn’t even know I owned a wooden spoon,” I grumbled, taking it from her. “I almost have a PhD, you know.”

“Okay… okay… Mr. PhD.” She waved her hands in mock surrender. “Can I play some music?” She reached for my laptop on the counter and gasped, laughter bubbling out. “Oh my gosh… you googled the meaning of sautéed?”

“Okay, that’s it, Y/L/N.” I pretended to drop the wooden spoon over the counter dramatically. “No dinner for you.” I pointed a finger at her, struggling to keep a straight face.

“I’m sorry!” she laughed, and I stepped closer, cornering her against the counter. “It does smell delicious,” she whispered, running a finger down my chest.

“And I haven’t even showered yet.” I dropped kisses along her neck, my hand sliding beneath the hem of her shirt.

“You do smell delicious too,” she said in a husky whisper.

“Liar. I stink of onions.”

“Only a little bit.” She giggled into my neck as I lifted her up onto the counter. “Thanks for making me dinner.”

“My pleasure,” I murmured, nuzzling her neck. She smelled amazing—like warmth and sunshine. I pulled back to look into her eyes. “Congratulations on your internship, Y/N. You absolutely earned it.”

“Yeah… about that,” she said, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. “I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Why not?” I asked, confusion painting my features.

“Well, I have to think about it.”

“Y/N, it’s an incredible opportunity. Jin has never offered an internship to a student after only one semester of work.”

“I know… but…” She bit her lip, trailing off.

“What is it?” I cupped her cheek with my hand, rubbing my thumb along her skin.

“Well… are we going to be okay if I join the lab for the summer? We’ll have to keep hiding this, and I know it’s been getting… um… difficult… for both of us.”

I sighed in relief, a smile creeping onto my face. It was sweet of her to include herself, especially when I’d been the one making everything complicated. The thought of her giving up this chance for us made my heart swell. “Yeah… about that…” I echoed her earlier words. She looked at me expectantly. “I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult about the whole thing… but it turns out, we don’t need to hide anymore. I mean, we should still keep things professional in the lab and all, but… Jin sort of knows.”

“WHAT?” She pushed me back with a hand on my chest, her eyes wide.

“I think it was becoming obvious, Y/N. He didn’t ask me directly, but he said our personal life had nothing to do with our work. As long as it didn’t affect our performance, he didn’t care.”

“He doesn’t care?” Her voice was still high-pitched with surprise.

“Apparently, his wife worked for him once too…” I shrugged, returning my attention to dinner. I stirred the sauce and tossed a pinch of salt into the boiling water before adding the spaghetti.

“That… that changes things,” she said slowly, her brow furrowed.

I stepped back between her legs, looking into her eyes. “What is it?”

“So, um… do you want me to take the internship? You won’t get tired of me?”

“What kind of question is that, Y/N?” I shook my head, feeling a pang in my chest. “I’ve been aching, physically hurting, thinking about you taking an internship somewhere else and leaving me for the whole summer.”

Her smile was radiant, brightening the dim kitchen. “You have?”

“Yes…”

“Well, it looks like I won’t be going anywhere,” she declared.

“Good. Because I have a lot of work to do, and I could really use an overachieving undergrad with some pretty amazing skills at the bench.”

“I’d say my skills go beyond the bench. Wouldn’t you agree?” she asked, a teasing smirk playing on her lips.

“I would…” I pointed the wooden spoon at her playfully. “But don’t distract me now, or I’ll burn your dinner.”

Dinner turned out surprisingly well. We ate as she excitedly recounted her classes, finals, classmates, and professors. I sat back, just soaking in the sight of her—how her eyes lit up when she spoke, how her mouth curved into a smile, the way her eyebrows danced with every emotion. Watching her enjoy life, so passionate and full of energy, felt like a precious gift I never wanted to take for granted.

Y/N was drying the last few dishes, the rhythmic swish of the towel against porcelain filling the quiet kitchen with a comforting cadence. I approached her from behind, the warmth of her body radiating toward me as I leaned in to kiss her neck. The familiar flutter of anticipation twisted in my stomach. “You want to show off some of those non-bench skills of yours?”

She turned to me, a playful smile on her lips. As I leaned on the counter, I caught a whiff of my own odor wafting up. “God, I stink…”

Her laughter bubbled up, light and teasing. “It’s fine.”

“Do you mind if I take a quick shower?” I asked, a hopeful lilt creeping into my voice.

“Can I join you?” 

A grin broke across my face, and I took her hand, leading us toward the bathroom. The air between us crackled with a tension that felt electric, urging me to shed my shirt and pants before we even reached the shower.

She kicked off her shoes, her fingers deftly unbuttoning her jeans while I turned the water on, steam swirling like ethereal ghosts in the dim light. “May I?” I asked, wrapping my fingers around her wrist. She nodded, her eyes shimmering with mischief.

With practiced ease, I unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them down to her ankles. As I knelt to kiss her calves, then her knees, and finally her thighs, her giggles rang out like music, lifting the weight of the world off my shoulders. “Your scruff tickles,” she said, her voice bright and breathy.

I lifted her shirt over her head, tracing my fingers along the delicate straps of her bra. Once our underwear was discarded like forgotten memories, I pulled her close, feeling her warmth envelop me as her legs wrapped around my waist. Our differing heights made this an all-too-familiar arrangement, a perfect fit for everything we were about to share.

She squealed as I jumped into the shower, icy water hitting us both and sending shockwaves of heat through my body. Her lips found mine, soft and insistent, and I pressed her back against the cool tiles, the world outside fading away.

“Put me down,” she murmured hoarsely into my ear.

I obliged, feeling the rush of her kisses trailing down my chest as she sank to her knees, a wicked smile playing on her lips. 

“Y/N…” I breathed, leaning against the slick wall for support, knowing what was coming. This was one of her non-bench skills—a skill I’d come to appreciate in ways I couldn’t quite articulate. The water cascaded over us, hot and cold, our bodies entwined in a dance as old as time.

She began slowly, teasing, her hands wrapping around me, her tongue swirling around my tip, and I groaned, the sound swallowed by the rushing water. My instincts told me to hold back, but the pleasure was too sweet, too intoxicating. 

“Y/N…” I rasped, the words spilling out like a confession, “I’m… shit…”

But she didn’t relent. No, she tightened her grip and quickened her pace, and as my knees weakened beneath me, I surrendered to the waves of ecstasy crashing over me. I grabbed at the shower curtain rod, but it shook under my weight. I couldn’t hold on anymore.

With a final, desperate groan, I let go, surrendering to the moment, the pleasure consuming me entirely. She rose from her knees, licking her lips, that look in her eyes making my heart race. “You are one talented woman,” I murmured against her neck, panting.

Still wrapped around me, I stumbled into the bedroom, a tangle of limbs and laughter. I collapsed onto the bed, her body beneath me, and kissed her everywhere, exploring the soft curves that felt like home.

I knelt beside the bed, pulling her legs over my shoulders, my hands wandering over her hips as I feasted on the sweetness before me. The taste of her was electric, sending jolts of desire straight to my core. 

“God, Y/N, you taste even better than you smell,” I groaned, losing myself in her as she writhed beneath my touch, her moans filling the air like a siren’s song. 

It was then that I realized bringing her pleasure was no longer just a thrill; it was my favorite pastime, a dance of intimacy that bound us closer than any words could express. I placed soft kisses along her body, the world outside fading into obscurity, leaving only us—lost in our own private paradise. 

“Mmmmmm… Yoongi…” she sighed, fingers tangling in my hair. “Very… talented… yourself.”

I chuckled, planting another kiss on her lips, affection bubbling up like a tide. I love you, I love you, I love you…

“Inside… now,” she commanded, breathless and eager.

“Yes, ma’am,” I grinned, knowing this night would linger in our memories long after the water had dried.

“Y/N?” I gently comb my fingers through her damp hair, the strands clinging to my chest like the remnants of a storm.

“Hmm?” Her voice is soft, almost dreamy, as if she’s still wrapped up in the warmth of the moment.

“I… I want to tell you about my parents.” As I speak, she lifts her head, folding her arms over my chest, resting her chin there like it’s a pillow—a sanctuary amid the chaos of my memories.

A tiny grin dances on her lips, and she nods, encouraging me to continue.

“You probably guessed that they’re dead, right?”

She nods again, her gaze steady. “I know they’re not part of your life now… I figured something must have happened.”

“My dad died when I was four,” I say, the words tumbling out bluntly, like the beginning of a ghost story. 

“I’m sorry…” Her voice is small, fragile.

“I don’t remember him, except for pictures.” I shrug, trying to shake off the weight of the past. “He had pretty aggressive colon cancer—killed him in two months.”

“Oh my God, Yoongi… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I attempt a smile, but it probably comes out crooked and imperfect, like an old photograph faded by time. “So it was just my mom and me for a while… but when I was eleven, she was diagnosed with breast cancer.”

Her eyes widen, a shadow of understanding crossing her face as she starts rubbing gentle circles on my chest with her fingers, an attempt to soothe the pain I’m dredging up.

“She was so strong, though. She fought it for almost two years, with the most eager and positive attitude you can imagine. Kind of like you, in a way.” I flash her another smile, hoping to lighten the moment, but Y/N’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and she remains silent, letting me spill my heart.

“When she started getting worse, we moved in with my aunt, uncle, and Yoonji. My dad’s brother, Namjoon, is one of the best oncologists on the West Coast. But after metastasis, there was pretty much nothing else he could do.” 

“And that’s why you do cancer research,” she says, piecing it all together.

“It was Namjoon’s idea, really. He talked about how frustrating it was, being an oncologist, waiting for new therapies, new drugs, and discoveries. I figured it made sense to devote my life to that.”

“It does…” she replies, her tone soft but firm, a steady anchor in my turbulent sea of memories.

“I know it’s not a very profitable career…” I pause, the weight of Estelle’s words echoing in my mind, the sting of her judgment lingering like a bad dream—wasting my time.

“Profitable?” Her disbelief catches me off guard, pulling me from my thoughts. “What do you need so much money for anyway? You’re doing something you love. Something meaningful. That’s so much more important.”

Y/N renders me speechless with her insight, her understanding washing over me like a wave, leaving me breathless. I kiss the top of her head, the moment stretching between us until I decide to share the last piece of my story, the promise I made her before.

“My mom… um… she loved The Carpenters. She would make me sing their songs to her all the time. At the end—when she was breathing through a tube and couldn’t speak anymore—she wrote that note you saw on the CD.”

“‘I’ll be with Daddy soon’?” Y/N remembers, her voice barely a whisper, the words hanging heavy in the air.

“Yes…” I run a hand through my hair, staring at the ceiling as if the white paint might offer me some solace. I try to breathe through the lump in my throat. “I still miss her… so much.” I keep my eyes fixed on the ceiling, willing them not to fill with tears, blaming the onions and their cruel sulfenic acids when they finally betray me.

After a few deep breaths, I turn to face Y/N, who is sniffling, her hands trembling slightly.

“Y/N, don’t cry. Please.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just so sad. I’m so sorry.” She cries over my chest, and I run my hand over her hair, creating a soothing rhythm in the storm of emotions.

“I know. But I’m okay. I’m happy now.”

“You are?”

“Yes, because of you.”

Her sniffles dissolve into giggles, a beautiful mix of laughter and tears, and she never ceases to amaze me with her resilience.

“I love you, Y/N.” The words burn in my throat, raw and true, echoing in the empty spaces of my heart.

She lifts her head, staring at me through her wet eyelashes, and I know she can feel how my heart pounds beneath her. I’m overwhelmed by emotions, but I’ve never spoken truer words. After a moment, Y/N’s hand reaches behind my neck, and her lips collide with mine in a passionate kiss, her tears mingling with mine.

“And I love you…” she breathes in between kisses, her voice trembling with sincerity. “So… so… so much.”

We fall asleep like that, her warm body over my chest, the world fading away. I feel a profound relief, a weight lifting as she gets to know me in ways no one ever has. And even though shadows of uncertainty linger about our future, I realize I don’t have to solve everything right now. Like Y/N said, I would savor my time—my time with her, my time in school. As long as she was by my side, nothing else mattered. I was doing what I loved, and the person I loved was right there with me. It couldn’t possibly get any better than this.

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[nikosama13]

His Little Assistant (Crocodile x Reader)

Description: Your boss, Crocodile, is feeling stressed and overworked. He’s been locked in his room all day doing paperwork. If only someone could help him out.. Maybe that person will be you. 

Side Notes: Hello my lovelies! So I'm currently sick- It’s probably my allergies, but like I've been out for a couple of days just sleeping and running to doctors. While I was napping I randomly thought this little fic up, sooo enjoy! (ಥ﹏ಥ)

(Probably spelling errors + My requests should be open)

☞ CW: Suggestive-ish + Very minor cursing 

Consider the following..?

Enjoy the read!

~~~

Crocodile looked up slowly from his desk. He was slumped over, his cigar burning out as a small groan left through his teeth. The poor man had been doing paperwork all day and still had more to complete, but he was overworked and burned out.

"Y/n..?" He called you, as you walked into his office. His voice held a slight touch of desperation and need as he said your name.

"Is it more paperwork?" Crocodile asked worriedly, hoping the answer would be anything other than a “yes”. He doesn't want to admit it, but he needs and craves emotional support.

“No, I brought you some coffee..” You thought it would be a good idea, considering that he looks half-dead, swimming within the piles of work. Crocodile visibly lets go of a breath he didn't realize he was holding. A little smile curled on his lips.

"Y/n, you know how to make a man happy." He said gratefully. You sent him a smile back. “After all, it’s my job as your assistant..”

"Indeed." Crocodile replied, accepting the cup of coffee. 

"You could make any man happy." He teased flirtatiously.

 This was the same Crocodile who was feared and intimidating. However, you know the better side of him. It was endearing, really.

After you set the coffee down on his desk and bowed, you walked out of the room with a small flush on your face.

Crocodile smirked as he watched you leave the room. Damn, he wished he could follow you out there. But, he can't. There were papers to be done. He sighed, and took a sip of his coffee.

Crocodile was once again buried in paperwork. His mind was trying to drown out the stress of it all, but he couldn't escape it completely. He was growing desperate and frustrated. All he needed was some kind of release of stress. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of any other solution other than you, his assistant.

"Y/n.." Crocodile called out, softly. He wanted you in the room with him. 

“I need you..” His voice had a tinge of desperation.

You walked over to his office and pushed open the heavy wooden doors.

“Yes..?”

"Could you stay in here with me for a bit?" Crocodile asked, hoping she would say yes.

 He didn't need to explain anything. The look on his face told the entire story. He just needed company and reassurance.

“Stressed?” You shot him a concerned look. "Understatement." Crocodile admitted, his voice laced with a hint of defeat. 

He was always so strong and confident. To see a side of him like you have right now is... Well, different. He wasn't proud of this, but he needed it.

“Why don’t you rest..?” You walked in further into the dimly lit room.

Crocodile gritted his teeth. Were you really gonna make him ask for it? You knew exactly what he needed and he didn't like being needy. However, he needed to be right now.

"I can't. I'm not done with my workload yet." He said, but he didn't make a move to continue. He just... sat there, stewing in his stress.

“So what do you want exactly..?” You smiled mischievously.

"I want... I need..." Crocodile trailed off. 

He wasn't really sure about what he wanted. Something to relieve his stress. He was desperate. So desperate he needed the one thing that made him the most vulnerable. He needed a little intimacy. A little connection.

"Just..." He slowly trailed off again, but he couldn't put into words what he really needed.

“I’m listening..” You waited patiently for his response. "Just..." Crocodile struggled to get the words out, which was rather amusing seeing how confident and prideful he was. 

"Just... C..could you.." He didn't want to finish the sentence. It made him feel so pathetic. It made him feel weak and vulnerable. But he needed it so badly.

Crocodile struggled to put into words what he wanted from you. He was so desperate he was losing his cool that he usually kept. He couldn't put into words what it was, he didn't want to admit it. But he was a desperate man right now. He needed his assistant's lips. You leaned over the desk, “A.. kiss?” A single nod was all he could do right now. The words were too damn hard. He just needed it. A kiss. Just one. That's all he was asking for. “Where..” You teased. Crocodile let out a frustrated groan. He was being teased. Now he wanted it more than anything. And this was all he could really ask for.

“You know exactly where..” Then you smirked and kissed his lips over the desk. Crocodile melted when his lips were connected with yours. The way your lips felt on his was all it took for his worries and stress to melt away. He enjoyed being vulnerable. The fact that he could trust you to comfort him like this was more relaxing than anything. His lips remained connected, wanting as much as he could get right now. (Greedy much-?) He would not move until she did. He would let you decide when it was time to pull away. Until then, it was just him and you. That’s when you pulled on his tie, deeping whatever was going on in that moment.

 He didn't anticipate the action, but he sure as heck enjoyed it. Not only was this comforting and relaxing, but now it felt sensual too. He could feel himself getting excited and wanting this to progress further. Still, he let you take the lead as he allowed his lips to remain connected, enjoying the moment.

You pulled away. “That's your limit for the night, dear.” you were trying to get as much power over him as possible. This was only because you knew that you could make him weak for you, and who wouldn’t want a Warlord protecting them. "Limit?" Crocodile asked, giving you a playful smirk. 

Your teasing had gotten him riled up. You would sure as hell pay for it later.. ~~~ The End! …maybe not ;)

Thank you so so much for reading!

Consider following..?

[ebullientheart]

roomies. spencer reid x reader

content — fem!bau!reader. injured!reader. fluff. anonymous request. brief injury description. reader uses conditioner. making out.

when you no longer need your live-in doctor, you find you desperately want him to stay.

you were absolutely fuming when the unsub shot you. just one, clean through the shoulder, that caused you to fall in a twist down the stairs, spraining your ankle. the chances of both of those events occurring had to be low, and spencer assured you of the statistics to back that theory up. just bad luck. fuming.

unfortunately, it also meant your life was substantially difficult to navigate while healing. you could barely shower, cook food, unlock doors, get changed. in fact it wasn’t ‘barely’, you just couldn’t. so the natural solution was to have your best friend move in with you while you were out of action entirely.

“it’s no big deal.” he shrugged. your best friend that you harboured secret feelings for, shrugged. no big deal.

there were some challenges.

“spencer,” you huffed for the tenth time that morning, “i am not swallowing those gross fish vitamins.”

he tutted at you, “they’re cod, and they’re going to help your sprain recover. valid studies have shown-”

awkwardly, you stood and used your uninjured arm to jab him in the chest, “i don’t care if they would grow me a whole new bone, they’re gross.”

it was weeks like that, when he wasn’t on cases. harmless bickering as he fussed over you like a newborn. but despite your teasing, you were not looking forward to the day he’d be moving back into his own apartment. it was nice, having someone to come home to. it took the sting out of the loneliness you felt, and you weren’t delusional for thinking he felt that way too. as your casts and slings were eased off, the both of you looked rather dejected, confusing the nurse tending to you greatly.

spencer nudged your good shoulder, “now you can help me box up my things.”

you’d gotten used to his things, though. his aftershave in the bathroom, his chess set by the couch. even his supposedly mobile library he’d moved into your apartment. you knew how empty it was going to feel.

in fear of that emptiness, you blurted it out on the car ride home from the hospital, “maybe you should stay a bit longer.”

“yeah?” he briefly took his eyes off the road to raise a brow at you, “you think you still need help?”

“i don’t need it.” you mumbled, picking the skin around your cuticles nervously. spencer noticed, and flicked your hands apart as a silent way of telling you not to do that. still taking care of you.

he didn’t push your declaration, just nodding, “okay. how long were you thinking?”

somewhere between a bated breath and a rush of words, you pushed out, “like, forever?”

this time, both his brows jumped and he had to clear his throat to stop his voice from cracking, “really? like roommates?”

no, like lovers, “yes, like roomies. nevermind, it was a stupid idea.”

“i don’t think so. i’d love to be… roomies.” the word sounded strange, too informal, coming from him, and it made you laugh. which made him smile.

after that very spencer-esque conversation, he moved the rest of his material belongings in, and put his flat up on listings. it sold fast, and you had to wonder why he’d agreed so rapidly, considering his place was notably nicer than yours. you had to wonder why he agreed at all, though it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone else that you hadn’t been able to separate. and the rest unfolded like one of the rom-coms you forced him to watch.

you no longer needed him to wash your hair over the side of the bath, which had at first been annoying because he did not wash the conditioner out properly. but now you missed it; it had become almost a bonding experience. that became true of a lot of things you’d adjusted to in the past months. him helping you into bed, you playing the wounded card to make him watch your shows on tv.

one thing that hadn’t changed was the sheer amount of card games you two played. you knew spencer was always going to win, but you tortured yourself with it anyway. one night, you were splitting the deck as you announced, “i’ve got a new game. it’s called rummy version two.”

before he could explain all the deviations rummy had from its origin over the years, making your game not a second version but at least an eighth, you rushed on to outline the rules. you were completely making it up as you went along, and continued adding to it as you played. it was impossible for you to lose, and spencer quickly figured out that you were bullshitting. for a profiler, you had a terrible poker face.

“you’re making this up.” he stated, putting his cards down.

you leant over the table, now able to rest pressure on your arm, and challenged, “prove it.”

there was a thick tension that had arisen suddenly between the pair of you, though the more you thought, the less sudden it seemed. maybe it had been building for a while. like the blush steadily rising to his cheeks as you got slightly closer to his face.

he smirked, “you’re winning.”

“rude. that doesn’t mean i’m-”

what it didn’t mean, spencer never got to hear, because it was at that moment he surged forward to close the remaining distance between your lips. you almost fell when you two collided, but his grip had attached to your upper arm to steady you. his kiss did not relent, demanding and speaking of all the impatience he’d felt recently. you responded likewise, threading your hands into his curls as soon as you got your balance, barely breaking for breath.

spencer’s skin on yours was something you had thought about more than you cared to admit, and with the fervour he was kissing you with, you thought he might’ve experienced the same. he was almost desperate against you, hands trailing to smooth over any section of exposure he could find, before one rested on the side of your face, and the other on your thigh.

“spencer,” you gasped, pulling away to catch air in your lungs, “need to breathe.”

he nodded as though he’d forgotten that, mimicking your heavy breaths, but not taking his hands off you. you rested your forehead against his and blinked. it was starting to sink in, the line you’d just crossed together.

“do we have to tell hotch about this?” you suddenly asked.

spencer frowned, “why are you thinking about hotch right now?”

you laughed and kissed him again, quickly this time, “you’re right, let’s just…”

“yeah.”

thank god he agreed to be roomies.

[billgetsmewet]

doktorspiele..

short smut :3

-tom kaulitz x fem!reader

-warnings : nicknames,blowjob , sub!reader / dom!tom, agegap

A/N : 2015 tom is so hot stfu he could bend me over and *******

You and your parents recently moved towns because of financial problems, your new house was fine.. except the air conditioning. It was always super cold in your room, especially in winter, because of this, youve had a sore throat for a bit now.

You eventually told your mum and she suggested you get it checked out by a doctor, so you did as she said.

You were looking up doctors in your area, trying to find one that didnt look sketchy…

Eventually, after a but of scrolling, you found a doctor. He was quite young, it said in his description that he was 26 years old. This made you more comfortable, considering old doctors are kinda creepy.

Keep in mind, you were only 18, about to finish highschool.

You called the doctor and made an appointment for about 3 days after. You didnt mind waiting, since you knew you would still have this damn curse of a sore throat…

The day finally came. You hopped into the uber, getting to the doctors 20 minutes before your appointment, just in case. Surprisingly, he was free.. He welcomed you in, in a slightly seductive voice - Hello, y/n? Ah yes, Im Tom, i got done with the client before you pretty quickly..

You couldnt help but notice his thick german accent, it was really hot, being honest.

He took you into the office, sat you down, asked you whats wrong… the usual. - Ive had a sore throat for a while.. my room is pretty cold, so i just cant get rid of this.. Hm.. im sorry to hear, i suggest you getting a warmer blanket and clothes with longer sleeves.. and without cutouts around the neck.

Shit, you just noticed, you wore the most revealing shirt you could ever wear. I mean.. it could be helpful if he was trying to examine your lungs, but it was also making you look stupid in this situation, but.. for some reason Tom didnt seem to mind, its almost as if he kept looking at your tits from time to time..

He put the stethoscope on your chest, the cold metal making you slightly flinch, he was listening to your heart, noticing the beats are getting faster and faster once he looks at you. He smiles in realization before moving on and putting it on your back to check your lungs.Deep breath in, darling.

You struggled not to moan out as he called you “darling”.

Good girl, now deep breath out.

God, he was making this so hard.

He took the stethoscope to your heart again. This will.. uh..let me examine your lungs better, i feel. - he said, yet it sounded like an excuse.

Deep breath in, sweetheart…

He was definitely teasing you. He could hear your heart beat as fast as possible as he said “sweetheart”. You looked up at him, blushing, realizing whats happening.

Listen darling, all i can prescribe you for this sore throat is…

Next thing you know his cock is in your mouth and hes bobbing your head up and down on it. Atleast this will cure your sore throat, right..?

Ps i want 2015 tom to make me choke on his cock..;(

[viinchester]

Dexter :: Masterlist

Welcome to my Masterlist for all things I've created regarding the TV Show “Dexter”! I will try to keep this as updated as possible.

Click here for my Main Masterlist

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× Contents ×

Last Updated On

Requests

🌶️ ☔ 💥 🧸 🕳️ 🎭 🔞

Writing Masterlist

Gifs Masterlist

Tag List

━╍═══════════════╍━

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

1. Last Updated On

September 23, 2024

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

2. Requests

Requests are OPEN for the following characters:

Dexter Morgan

Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper

You can try to request something for characters that aren't on this list as well, however it's much less likely that I'll actually write for them.

On how or what to request, please check out My Main Post About Requesting!

3. 🌶️ ☔ 💥 🧸 🕳️ 🎭 🔞

I use one or more of the 7 emojis to give you a better understanding of what the content involves. Here's a guide on what they mean:

🌶️ ➞ Smut, usually contains sexual content and/or physical intimacy

☔ ➞ Angst, usually contains emotional pain of some kind and/or evokes sadness/melancholy

💥 ➞ Action/Violence, usually contains fast-paced events and/or physical conflict, often with graphic descriptions

🧸 ➞ Fluff, usually contains feel-good situations with a focus on comfort and/or affection

🕳️ ➞ Dark Stuff, usually contains heavy, disturbing, and potentially triggering topics (Mental illness, (sexual) abuse, trauma, etc.)

🎭 ➞ Drama, usually contains intense emotional shifts and/or emotional turmoil, with moments of tension, conflict, and/or resolution

🔞 ➞ Mature Content, usually contains explicit content that is not suitable for minors (Graphic sexual scenes, extreme violence, mature themes, and/or other adult-oriented material)

‼️ These emojis are only to give you a quick overview, please still read the warnings on each story to make sure they're suitable for you ‼️

4. Writing Masterlist

Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper:

✒ Haunted Reflections

☔💥🔞(🕳️🎭)

Summary: You head to your routine appointment for a readjustment of your prosthetic leg at the Miami prosthetics clinic. This time, however, you are met with Rudy Cooper instead of your usual doctor. Unbeknownst to you, his dark secrets lie hidden beneath the surface, and you’ve unwittingly captured his undivided attention and care.

Warnings: References to Violence and Murder, mentions of Stalking, Trauma (related to losing a limb & violent incidents), Obsessive Thoughts, Unhealthy Behavior, graphic descriptions in thoughts of Gore (Violence, Bloodshed, a bit of Body Mutilation), Moral Ambiguity (we're talking about Brian Moser here, hello?), Insults (like a single word lol), mentions of Drugs (two sentences, nothing about taking them), mentions of Death

Word Count: 3.271

×

✒ Shape Of You

🌶️ 🕳️🔞(☔)

Summary: Brian takes care of your injury after you've taken a nasty fall, however you can't help but feel like something's off about the situation. Unaware of his dark thoughts and oblivious to the deeper manipulation at play, you clear your mind by focussing on his comforting presence, and things quickly get heated.

Warnings: Mentions of an injury and that it's being taken care of (nothing too graphic), Depictions of Sexual Content (Minors DNI!), Rough/Intense Sexual Content, could be considered Dubcon by coercion (not really imo, but just to be on the safe side), Themes of Possession and Objectification

Word Count: 3.271

⊸

Dexter Morgan:

✒ Nothing yet

5. Gifs Masterlist

⏯ Nothing yet

6. Tag List

I don't have a tag list yet. If you want to be tagged in the future for anything specifically (all writings for a specific character for example), feel free to let me know and I'll create one and put you on it!🙏🏼💞

[kanencrow]

Can you do gwen stacy/spider-gwen x reader where reader is patching up gwen after another fight? (similar to gwen and peter in tasm)

Playing Doctor - Across The Spiderverse | One Shot

A/N: Of course, thank you for the request! I'll be honest, it's been a very long time since I last saw The Amazing Spiderman, but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy.

SUMMARY: You patch up Gwen after a particularly harrowing fight with what she considered her villain of the month.

WARNINGS: All characters are 18+. Descriptions of Physical Violence, Descriptions of Tending to a Wound, Blood, Swearing, Needles, Very Slight Angst, Fluff/Comfort.

WORD COUNT: 2400+

Attempting to sew up a decently large gash that sat just above the left side of Gwen’s chest proved to be a tedious and slow task, even with the top of her suit down, which was supposed to aid your ability in assessing where she had been hurt. You were in no way shape or form a professional in stitching up a wound, but when your girlfriend came in through your window, looking like she had just been hit by a truck, you really didn’t have much time to study. Not that you necessarily planned on learning the arts of medicine, but now that you knew the reality of who the woman in front of you was – when she wasn’t her true identity, you were certain it would have been a good idea to figure out a thing or two about treating cuts and bruises. 

When you saw her stumble into your room after opening up your window, you didn’t expect anything other than a simple ‘hi,’ before she would do her usual habitual routine of walking up behind you and giving you a warm hug, followed by a firm kiss to the top of your head. Every night, you’d find yourself cooped up in your apartment and losing your mind over a particular assignment that your professor pushed onto you and every other victim of their class. It would take Spider-Woman’s strength to tear you away from your focus on your computer, though when she didn’t do her usual embrace and peck, you turned around, only to see her tumble into the room, as though all of the strength in her muscles had vanished. 

The sight of her terrified you. You didn’t know what to do, other than immediately stop what you were doing and dart over to your girlfriends’ aid. It seemed like every bit of movement that she made worsened the feeling of affliction that surrounded her body. Of course, you noticed that quickly, and so you led her over to your bed and ordered her to settle down and take off her suit, while you busied yourself with going into your bathroom and grabbing the medical box you had under your sink. Your own movements were frantic and clumsy, unlike the blonde, whose own movements were slow and tentative. There were a few moments where you almost dropped the supplies you had collected, but you managed to keep track of everything, before you made it back to the room.

And by the time you did make it back, Gwen had followed your request, though she made sure to make herself comfortable in the process, when you spotted her laying across her proclaimed side of the bed, with her head laying against one of the many pillows you had. Even though she looked like she had been through the thick of it, she still sent you a small smile, when she opened her eyes and looked at you. You attempted to give her the same expression back, but it only seemed to come off as a grimace, when the woman scrunched up her face slightly and slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. 

“That bad?” she asked you, before she let out a quiet grunt and grabbed at the strap of her compression bra, or what remained of it. Somehow, it was still connected by a thread, even after receiving whatever slash that her skin shared the same fate with, and it seemed to have finally lost all of the strength it had when you heard a quiet snap, followed by a hiss of pain that came from her, when the elastic smacked against her wound. “Ow, shit!” You set the box of supplies you collected onto the nightstand that sat beside the side of the bed you and her were on, before you turned around and looked at the woman who just had an unintentional mishap with a piece of fabric. 

The palm of her hand rested over the gash on the upper left side of her chest, and you immediately grimaced when the thought of it getting infected filled your mind. “Hey, don’t do that,” you told her, before you stepped forward and gently grabbed a hold of her wrist. “Your hands are probably dirty. You don’t want a wound this size to get an infection.” You let go of her limb as you leaned down to get a closer look at the laceration, which caused your girlfriend to smirk slightly to herself and lean back on her hands, which – actually – allowed you to see whether or not anything had made its way inside of the cut. 

“Since when did you become a doctor?” Gwen questioned you quietly, as she admired the way your face faintly scrunched up to show your concentration. Her voice was smug, and you internally wondered how she was so willing to be cheeky while she still had a jagged, untreated wound on her body. You had the sudden urge to roll your eyes at her lack of worry, but you managed to keep a blank expression, when you lifted your focus up to the woman who sat on your bed. 

“Since never,” you stated simply, before you stood up to your full height and stepped over to your nightstand once more. “I’m just using the information that I’ve come to learn from simply being alive,” you admitted, only to let out a sigh, as you picked up a white box with a red cross decal that sat on top of it. “You know… getting hurt a lot as a kid and then treating your own injuries, just so you wouldn’t get in trouble by your parents… it kind of also gives you this automatic idea of how to treat an injury.” You shrugged your shoulders, and eventually turned around to sit on the bed with your girlfriend. 

Gwen stared at you, all the while, as you unclipped the medical box, which carried all of the things you needed in order to treat her gash. Her smile slowly fell when she noticed the glassiness in your eyes, and the way you chewed on your lower lip, as though you were trying to prevent yourself from growing emotional. It caused her to sit up and scoot closer to you, before she bent her leg to let it rest on part of the bed, so that she could turn her body to fully face your own. “Hey… I’m still alive,” she assured you, but you only tightened your jaw in response to that, before you parted your mouth and breathed out a sigh that silently conveyed your discontent. 

“It doesn’t matter, Gwen,” you voiced, “you still got hurt.” You blindly gestured your free hand towards her, before you let it drop to hold onto the mattress. “I mean – I’m glad that you’re alive, but seeing you…” You trailed off and breathed in deeply, just to try and steel your nerves. “Watching you come through that window, barely able to hold yourself up… I guess it just reminded me that you’re still human. That anything can happen to you, even though you’re Spider-Gwen, or Ghost-Spider, or whatever you call yourself these days.” You let out a quiet chuckle when your girlfriend huffed in amusement at what you had just said. The moment of lighthearted nature was quick to die out, however, and the moment your smile fell, you spoke up. “I guess just – what if you didn’t come back tonight–?” 

“Babe, stop.” You felt Gwen’s hand come down to rest on your thigh. She understood your worries, loud and clear, but she knew that you were starting to lose yourself within that whirlwind. You immediately felt her comforting touch, and she felt the weight of concern fall away from her shoulders, when you breathed out an exhale to try and steady your spiral of thoughts. “I’m here. I’m alive. I’m okay,” she told you, but you didn’t show any evidence that you believed her. “Hey, look at me.” Her palm fell away from your leg to take a gentle hold of your face, and you didn’t fight her when you felt the warmth of her skin against yours. 

The moment your eyes met her own, your brow furrowed deeply. “You’re okay?” you repeated, before you let out a humorless laugh and looked down at the large gash that sat on her chest. Bruises and the like littered other parts of her body too, you had noticed, and the sight of it only made you more regrettable. “Look at you!” you quietly exclaimed, as your hands attempted to gesture up and down her form. “You look like you got run over by a freight train.” 

“Okay, rude.” Gwen frowned at you, as she dropped her hand away from your face and sent you a look of offense. “I think I look fine,” she admitted, before she tilted her head to the side and gazed up at nothing in particular. It was as if she were dwelling on the fight she had before coming here. “Honestly, you should see the other guy.” When she brought her focus back to you, you deadpanned at her, clearly unimpressed by her lack of concern for her own state. “Not only is he in jail, but he’s gotta go to the hospital before jail. So…” She shrugged her shoulders again, and you shook your head. 

“Gwen…” 

“What?” she asked, “I’m fine. I just need my personal doctor to fix me up.” 

“You’re an idiot,” you uttered, though your tone conveyed your endearment.

“Yeah, but I’m the same idiot that you decided to date, so what does that say about you?” Gwen asked smugly, which earned an amused eye roll from you, before you settled the medical box to the side and leaned in to press a gentle peck to her cheek.

“I guess that means that I have a thing for idiots.” You played along, which successfully earned a quiet giggle from your girlfriend, as her eyes followed you closely. When you leaned away slightly to scrounge through the box of medical supplies you had set next to you, you couldn’t help but glance up at her for a moment, before you brought your focus back down to what you were mainly doing. “So… who was the guy you fought tonight, then?” you suddenly questioned, “Was he the same dude you fought earlier this month?” 

“Yeah, actually,” Gwen mumbled, her eyes still watching you as you set up the needle and thread. “Super big guy. Dressed himself up in what looks like a cosplay of a rhino, which makes sense… considering his name is literally just Rhino.” You furrowed your eyebrows at her explanation, before you stopped what you were doing to look up at her once more. 

“Wait, so that’s literally just his name? Or is that his stage name?” 

“Stage name?” she repeated, suddenly growing confused. 

You paused and blinked at her. “You know, stage name? Like how your real name is Gwen Stacy, but when you’re wearing your suit, you’re Spider-Woman – or whatever you call yourself.” You couldn’t keep up with the names she created for herself these days. Was it Ghost-Spider, Spider-Gwen, or Spider-Woman? You didn’t even know, and she told you everything, so honestly, you should have probably known. But you didn’t. 

“Oh! Right, right.” Gwen nodded her head, suddenly catching on, while you set the thread and needle to the side to grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide instead, as well as a little fuzzy cotton ball. Her eyes followed your hands, all the while, and she grew a little nervous when you unscrewed the cap of the container and dumped some of the liquid onto the miniature cloud of white. “He, uh… his real name is Aleksi Sytsevich.” You hummed at her simple explanation. “Yeah, he, uh… he’s kind of an idiot.” She paused to glance up at the ceiling of your room for a moment. “Kinda surprised it took me so long to catch him…” 

“Well, hey, at least you got him,” you muttered, before you dabbed the wet cotton ball against the wound that the rhino guy created on your girlfriend. “And hopefully you made him bleed just as much as he made you,” you added on, which earned a small chuckle from the blonde in response. 

“Oh, trust me,” Gwen said, “I did.” 

The conversation fell into silence the moment you set your entire focus on trying to stitch up Gwen’s wound. For someone who was used to getting thrown up against walls and crushed by things that were ten times the size and weight of her, she whined a lot. Everytime you would push the needle through to cinch the skin back together, you would hear some sort of quiet curse or a little dramatic whimper come from her. She definitely made a note to state her discontent for what you were doing, but you always made sure to remind her that it wasn’t your fault Rhino decided to be an asshole and give her a particularly gnarly wound. 

You hadn’t sutured a gash up before, though, so when you eventually finished and sat back to admire your work, your lips downturned deeply to show your impression. For a complete rookie, you did a pretty okay job. Although, you still planned to take a trip up to the hospital with her in the morning, just for the sake of making sure that nothing bad would happen in the process of her recovery. And you were more than willing to drag her there, because you knew just how much she hated those medical centers.

“Do I still look pretty?” 

Your eyes flickered up to look at Gwen, who had her eyebrows raised in question. A warming sensation of love filled your chest when you noticed the hopeful expression on her tired face, and you couldn’t help but lean forward and press your lips to her own. It was a silent reply that, yes, you still thought she was beautiful. She accepted the action immediately, and you could hear her hum against your mouth quietly, before you pulled back slightly and sent her a small smile, your eyes keeping contact with her own. 

“You’ll always be pretty. Don’t you worry.” You sent her a playful wink, before you settled back and hopped off the bed. “Now,” you uttered. “Why don’t we get you into some more comfortable clothes?” You blindly called from over your shoulder, and you felt yourself grin when she happily replied to your query in turn.

[maximumkillshot]

"I Can't Lose You" Part 3

Warnings: This one is bad... Like bad bad. Uhm so please pay attention to these warnings. *Brings out a scroll with a solemn face.* Descriptions of Blood, Emergency medical procedure explainations, Shock, Grief, Chan gets shoved once, (IF YOU WANT NO SPOILERS AND KNOW YOU CAN HANDLE THE FIC CONTINUE) Child Loss, Descriptions of miscarriage.

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader

Characters: OC Doctor, Stray Kids, Reader

A/N: I know the cut is very high up but I needed to be sure that it wouldn't trigger someone would get triggered by the story. I am so sorry I am doing this to y'all. But here we are. Enjoy getting your heart ripped out? I guess. IF YOU WANT MORE TELL ME!

Also remember, this is a fan fic. All of the boys are so sweet IRL.

Stray Kids! Masterlist

Overall Masterlist

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

Previously:

You looked at Bin and Han and begged them to stay. Both of them looked at the doctor and said that whatever was happening, they weren't leaving. The doctor could see that you really needed them and as long as they were not in the way, it didn’t matter whether they were here or not. 

After the nerve block and the procedure, the doctor cleaned you up and draped a warm blanket over you, while the nurses hooked up a transfusion and closely monitored you. The doctor asked for Bin in the hall while Han went right back to your hand without the IV in it, so he could hold it properly.

Bin tried to ignore it during the procedure but the look that the doctor had on his face when he was doing the preliminary exam was haunting. Whatever he was called out here for… it wasn’t good.

NOW:

Once both Bin and the Doctor were in the hall and closed the sliding door separating you from the bustling main hallway, Bin got that feeling again. That sick feeling that something was wrong. The doctor looked like he was trying to stay professional. 

It was then that Bin noticed the doctor's wedding ring. He wondered to himself if the doctor was like Bin. So deep in love that seeing anyone else doesn’t just feel blasphemous, but it’s so out of the question it’s nauseating. The doctor began.

“Are you her husband?” He asked.

“No…” Bin replied. He could feel the bile rising in his throat with that one question. He immediately thought, If I was this never would’ve happened.

“Are you family?” The doctor looked at him.

“Yes. Are they okay?” Bin looked at the doctor.

“She lost a lot of blood, through something called a hemorrhage. It’s a rare complication especially this early on. She wouldn’t have made it if this happened at home. But it’s under control now.” the doctor said. He seemed to be trying to be as sympathetic as possible, making the next question sting more.

“Okay, and the baby?” Bin asked as he was trying to hold on to the possibility, some shred of hope that you and the baby were okay. He didn’t want the answer to be…

“I’m sorry.” The doctor slowly shook his head as he bowed his head slightly. The doctor looked guilty, like this was the worst part of his job, not being able to save someone. 

“How? Why?” Bin asked as it felt like his heart twisted. He didn’t know how you were going to get through this. He knew you too well. He knew that the pain you were about to feel, the emotional pain, would spell your demise... Bin couldn’t wouldn’t let that happen. 

“There is a cause-and-effect relationship that stress, extreme traumatic stress, like what you described, can cause a mis--” “Please don’t finish that word.” Bin pleaded with tears in his eyes. That word. He’s never hated a word in his life, until now. A word like that, even the word Death is kinder. To die you need to have lived in the first place, breathe air, feel emotions, like happiness, fear, love… None of those things happened for your child, through no fault of their mother. The same woman he’s staring at, the very same woman he always stared at. 

“The fact that she went through the shock as well as the prolonged stress after that shock, and didn’t have any previous symptoms of that happening prior to that, rules out all of the other options.” he paused and looked at his ring. Bin could tell what he was thinking, the doctor’s jaw tight, I could never dream of doing that, then continued, “You know her better than I do. Will she need something to calm her down?”

“Yes… but I don’t think she’ll accept it.” Bin looked back at you and Han. You looked so out of it. Like you were and were not there simultaneously. He has never seen you like this. From what he could see it looked like Han was doing his best to distract you. He was playing with your fingers as he joked. 

It was convincing enough to relax you, but Bin knew better. His eyes are always so expressive, if he's genuinely relaxed, his eyes show it. Bin could tell that Han was many things at this point in time, and worry free was not one of them. 

“Would you like to tell her?” the doctor asked. That question made Bin think a little bit. If he did tell you, he didn't know if you'd believe him. It's easier to ignore reality when the person breaking the news isn't a doctor. You'd accept it if it came from the doctor. 

“She’ll believe it if you say it… Just have the medicine on standby. Also, what do we do to help her? What’s next?” He asked.

“Well like I said her bleeding was extensive... I want to keep her for at least a full 24 hours, in case the bleeding starts again. I’ll also arrange for her to meet with the OBGYN during that time as well, to make sure we got all of the tissue out, that way there’s no chance of another hemorrhage or infection. Sounds like a plan?” The doctor asked.

“Yes… thank you." Bin took a deep breath before he went in, the doctor trailing behind him. 

The doctor closed the sliding door as Bin looked at you, then at Han briefly. He lowered the guardrail and made eye contact with Han, who mirrored his actions shortly after. 

“Mrs. Y/L/N” the doctor began but you cut him off. 

“My baby. Please tell me my baby’s okay… please,” the urgency written on your face. 

Han's eyes were set on Changbin. The minute you asked that question, Bin lowered his head, jaw tight, and tears were already beginning to form. When Bin looked at Han, he already knew. 

The doctor looked at you and said “I...I’m so sorry.” 

Your face showed nothing but confusion… you had just gotten the first ultrasound. You had it done a week ago. No, you saw your baby.

“Y/N” Bin asked gently. He saw the look on your face, and it killed him. Seeing your brain reach for any other outcome other than the one right in your face. He tucked some stray strands of hair behind your ear as he watched and waited for the understanding to reach your face, it didn’t.

“No, it can’t be, I just got the ultrasound done. No,” you replied.

Han and Bin looked at each other. Han's eyebrows dipped, as he processed and tried to brace for impact. Bin on the other hand, was willing himself to take a step back, knowing that you needed to hear this. It had to get through, that's the only way you could start healing. 

The doctor looked solemn as he said, “Mrs. Y/L/N I could tell that you were and still are contracting. The reason why your body is doing it, from what I can discern, is because your body went through extreme stress and emotional trauma, when that happens this early, your body rejects the pregnancy. That does not mean that this is your fault, it's the opposite. It’s completely out of your control.”

Bin could see the cogs turning in your brain as you slowly started shaking your head. Reality starting to seep in. Bin wished that you didn't have to go through this. That you got the fairytale ending without the heartbreak. That you didn't have to face the death of your own child. That pain, anguish, and suffering. 

The doctor continued, “There is an even rarer condition in which the body rejecting the pregnancy ends in a condition called a hemorrhage. It’s a technical term for excessive bleeding, in this case, it happened because your body is trying to expel the tissues in your cervix. Because it was so sudden, your cervix didn’t have time to open. When I examined you, you weren’t even at half a centimeter dilation, and all of that tissue was trying to be expelled. That was why I had to do that procedure, to get the tissue out so bleeding could be minimized. I’m so sorry… but you had a miscarriage.”

Once that word was said the scream that you let out was something that Han nor Bin have ever heard in their lives. It was soul-crushing. Both of them could hear your heart breaking, shattered on the ground. Bin and Han wanted nothing more than to pick up those pieces and fix it. They knew that they couldn't, this is a hurt they can't fix.

Han held you as you screamed, begged, pleaded… You looked at Bin. “Bin please, look at me. Please tell me it's not true… Please you don’t lie to me, I know you'll tell the truth pleeease.”

Bin looked at you, “I can’t tell you it’s not true. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The look of devastation on his face only sealed the fact. Bin has never lied to you so why would he start now? Especially with something as serious as whether or not you had a miscarriage. 

The look that painted his face, brows upturned as his eye contact was nothing short of empathetic. You could tell he wanted to lie. 

He wanted it to be false, that it was just some freak minor bleeding… that the baby was okay…he wanted it so badly… but you can't want something into existence. 

That realization hit you in a split second as the monitors that were connected to you, measuring vitals, started going off. You could feel nothing but pain. The involuntary gnawing, pulling pain. The blood, the cold from lack of blood in your body…The physical agony was nothing compared to what you felt in that split second. 

Your heart rate was literally too fast for you to register, pain surging through you as comprehension slammed into you like a tsunami. The baby is gone. Your baby. Your heart rate was through the roof and the doctor went to your IV.

“Y/N I’m going to give you something to calm you down okay? Your heart can’t take this stress, it’ll give out.” The doctor pushed the medication. 

“I want my baby…Bin I want my baby… Han please, my baby.” You sobbed as you held on to Han. 

All Bin could do was say, “I know you do, I’m so sorry. I’m here. I’m sorry.”

Han got on the gurney with you and cradled you. He cried with you. Prayed that it was just a nightmare. Han looked to Bin, only to find him trying to fight the tears that were falling down his face. Bin's soul was hurting for you, bargaining with whatever powers out there, to give himself up for you and your child. He knew it was irrational but if he could've, he would've. 

As soon as the medicine kicked in your breathing started to slow. You still whimpered and cringed as you felt your body bearing down, still shaking slightly and cold to the touch. Han draped his jacket over you, resting you against his chest, singing to you, to calm you. 

Every once in a while reality would crash into you again, you’d reach for Bin. You knew why you did, he was always there. He always understood you on a deeper level. Sometimes he knew what you needed when you didn’t even know you needed it. 

Eventually he pulled up a chair and laid his head on his forearm, hand in yours and close to his lips. as he gently rubbed circles into your hand with his thumb. As soon as you’d squeeze that hand he’d squeeze back as he nuzzled into your hand. His way of letting you know that yes, this is the reality, but he is still here. Wordlessly, endlessly, he’d be here. Sometimes you’d comb your fingers through his hair, the feeling somewhat comforting.  

You were so tired it went down to your bones. Sometimes only mustering a long blink at the pain. Eventually your vitals started looking good enough to transport.

The doctor came in with solemn reverence, like he was intruding on a funeral.“Y/N, we’re going to keep you overnight at the least, you’re going to have a visit from the OBGYN in the morning, okay? We have your bed ready so soon someone’s going to come to transport you.”

You just looked up at the doctor and nodded, “T-thank you” you hiccupped, “Hannie and Binnie are staying with me.”

“I’ve already put a cot in the room for them. I wish I could’ve done more,” he said with a sad smile. Bin got up and shook his hand, thanking him.

As soon as the transport nurses came to get you Bin said “I’ll see you in a bit. I just need to do something really quick.” you nodded and Bin kissed your forehead. He had to go back to the house. He didn’t know why immediately, just that he had to. 

He was on autopilot the entire ride to the house, except for the red lights.  He didn’t need to be strong at those lights. He’d scream where no one could hear him. Letting the pain out as images of you flashed. Smiling, then flashing to the scream you let out. Laughing, then sobbing in that hospital gurney. Cooking with him, to crying on Han. 

His screams were from mourning, pain, and frustration. He mourned the baby and you. The pain for you, the pain of realizing all of the things that you won’t experience. The frustration of not being able to see it before. To protect you, guard you. He wanted to rip something… someone… apart. There. That was the impulse that drove him back to the house.

At the last red light, he breathed deep, not even wanting to. He used whatever force that was left over as he screamed one last time. Everything he did, your child would never experience. Every scream echoed, redoubling the anguish he had for the both of you. Culminating into this, silence as he turned the corner to the house.

To his surprise, all of the other member’s cars were still at the house when he pulled up. When he parked, he looked at the clock on his dashboard, it was 2 a.m. Had it been 6 hours already? 

He felt his adrenaline kick up as he opened the door. He found everyone still wide awake, waiting for answers, but one look at Bin and they gathered what they needed.

Chan walked into the room from the kitchen and his jaw dropped upon seeing him.

“Bin…what happened?” Felix asked gently, hand’s slightly raised, as if approaching a wild animal. The aura on Bin wasn’t his aloof, goofy, self, it was the opposite; dark, threatening, dangerous. Bin’s eyes were trained on Chan, the closer he got, the more Bin felt his resolve slipping… Chan looked at him up and down, concern and horror written on his face. It was only then that Bin noticed he was covered in your blood.

His resolved snapped at that realization, upper lip ticking into a repressed snarl as he breathed “I’m… going to kill you.” He made a B-line to Chan. Felix, Minho, and Jeongin had to hold him back. 

Once Bin realized he couldn’t get to Chan, he screamed, “Was it worth it?! HUH?!!” His veins were popping out under his skin as he struggled to get free, “Was it?! Tell me! You hurt and nearly killed the only person I’ve ever loved. She’s dead inside now, all thanks to you!” More flashes accompanied that sentence, him picking you up and watching you go limp, eyes fluttering.

Felix looked at Bin and said, “What?... Hyung..” Felix's voice trailed off, trying to process what he heard. Felix knew that if he heard Bin correctly…he couldn’t even complete that thought.

Bin’s eyes snapped to Felix and he relaxed to the point where all three let go.

“The doctor said that because of the severe stress and emotional trauma she endured her body rejected the pregnancy.” He bum-rushed Chan and slammed him against the wall, while everyone was either in shock or processing. Felix was the first and only one to try to get Bin off Chan. Changbin was just too strong for the younger man, he ignored Felix as he tried wordlessly to pry Bin away from Chan. 

Bin continued staring into Chan's eyes, “The miscarriage was so sudden, in fact, that she hemorrhaged and almost bled to death because her cervix couldn’t open on its own in time. They had to scrape the tissue out just to stop it from killing her! And she looked at me to see if it was really true because I don’t LIE to her. Then they had to sedate her because her heart was going to give out when she realized that it was true.”

At this point Bin tightened his grip on Chan, “You are lucky that she asked for me to stay with her… If not I would kill you, right here. You are going to stay AWAY until or even IF she ever wants to see you again. I mean it Chan, if you come near her, I will end you. It’s not a threat, it’s a promise.” With that, he dropped Chan and went to the washroom. He washed off as much blood as he could and went to his room to change into spare clothes. He wanted to destroy everything in his room. His keepsakes, his picture frames of the boys all together. There was only one picture frame that he did smash to dust before he left his room… the one of himself and Chan, on Chan’s wedding day. He picked up his bloody clothes, stalked back out to Chan, and threw the clothing at him. 

He was shaking with rage as he said, “To YOU… this could’ve been a game or a thrill, fucking with her heart. But THAT!” he pointed to the clothing, “that is the reality. A child is dead, your child and it almost killed Y/N too. Next time you want to contact her, look at what you did to both of them while you do it.”

Before Chan could say anything Bin was slamming the door shut behind him with such force that the wall itself vibrated. Right as he made it to his car Felix ran to him. “Can I go with you?” he asked.

“I’m not leaving the hospital for the whole night, you know that, right?” 

Felix nodded and got into the passenger seat. The whole ride over Felix couldn’t help but to stare at Bin. He has never seen him like this. So enraged that he was three seconds away from crushing Chris’ windpipe. 

He also noted how Bin didn’t seem to know that he was covered in blood until Chris looked at him. Even now he could see Bin’s grip on the steering wheel was so strong his knuckles were white. He didn’t know exactly what happened in those four hours they weren’t given updates, and Felix knows just by seeing Bin, he never wants to find out. 

As soon as Bin entered your hospital room he heard you say “Binnie?”

Honestly, he could melt every time you call him that.

“I’m back…” he chuckled slightly… “And I brought some sunshine with me…”

The minute he looked into your eyes, you smiled just a little. That was progress. He kissed your forehead as Felix looked you over. 

Felix is like your little brother, so the minute you saw him and he saw you, you both started crying. Han got off the bed knowing Lix would want to be with you for a bit, for both of your sakes. 

This gave Han and Bin time to talk out in the hall.

“How’re her contractions?” Bin asked.

“They’re slower but still strong. The doctor says that it’ll be strong for at least 5 to 10 hours.” Han reported.

“And you? How’re you doing?” Bin asked. He knows Han has anxiety, seeing all of this and being as strong as he’s been is not easy. 

“I’m… Out of all people, Bin.” Han shook his head. Han has known Chan the longest and he would’ve never expected him to do this. 

“I know”

“Please tell me you didn’t hit him.” Han said.

“Nah… She needs me more than I need to beat him to a pulp… I don’t think he’ll be bothering her anymore though.” That’s at least what Bin hopes. Everything is so raw. A little over 8 hours before this you were at a restaurant to celebrate your 3rd anniversary. Now everything was all wrong, a nightmare incarnate and no one can wake up from reality. 

“Hyung… She can’t go back to that house.” Han said as he took a deep breath.

“I know. All I know is that we'll do what she’s comfortable with.”

“Agreed…Bin?” Han asked.

“Yeah?”

“It should’ve been you with her. From the beginning.” Han looked to Bin, a look of understanding and empathy for Bin. Han could always see the way Bin looked at you when no one else was looking. Everything you said would be committed to his memory, even the smallest things like which brand of sesame oil you like best for your bulgogi marinade. 

“I know. That doesn’t mean that I can’t be here for her from now on.”

Han just smiled and both of them went back into the room. 

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

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[q-theeccentric]

Sampo Koski Lore Notes

Because we love our HSR conman, Trailblazers all over the internet have begun to form many theories surrounding our beloved scammer. There are a lot of details about this man that are peculiar, and for those like me who love to overanalyze their favorite characters and how they contribute to the lore, I have created a list of notes about Sampo that point to him being downright suspicious.

Warning: Very, very long post ahead.

He is has a lot of intel apparently... where does he get them from?

Knowledge Voiceline: "Come on, how did you guys end up in the middle of the Snow Plains? UFO? Let me guess, you took a train, haha. Seriously though."

About Natasha Voiceline: He's not from the Underworld.

He loves money; money is considered to be a form of pleasure; does this refer to the Masked Fools being hedonists?

Turn Begins 1: "We're just having fun." Elation??

Hit by Heavy Attack: "Hey! W-watch the face!" Sampo is not really the type to be narcissistic… unless this is a pleasure-related matter…

Ultimate: Unleash: "Betraying the king" is often seen in literary works and other similar fictional media, and these types of things are often used for pleasure and entertainment

Return to Battle, Health Recovery, Natasha's About Sampo Voicelines: He's also… altruistic?

Hook's About Sampo Voiceline: He can be everywhere

Character Story: Part I: He slips away easily

Character Story: He is good at disguises, as if he's an actor… as if he were wearing a mask… because actors and masks and roles… Masked Fools foreshadowing?

Character Story: Why did they choose this specific story to be the one in his profile? The tale seems so random… or is it?

Character Story: Everything is purely dialogue… almost as if it were a script. If we compare it to the others, they have character stories that match them well, such as Bailu, whose character story is in the format of a prescription because she is a doctor.

Light Cone - Eyes of the Prey: "In reality most prety don't realize when danger is encroaching. This one's no exception." After reading the description, it may seem weird since Sampo noticed the sniper BUT what if the sniper is the REAL prey?

Light Cone - Eyes of the Prey: "So that's what greed looks like. That amount is equal to several of my contracts already… No wonder someone wants him dead." Another reference to money being a form of pleasure.

Light Cone - Eyes of the Prey: "As if these thoughts were broadcasted out loud, the an in the scope turns his head, looking straight into the eyes of the sniper. 'I've been waiting for you. Would this much be enough for you to hear me out?'" The EYES of the PREY refers to the SCOPE of the SNIPER. The light cone depicts Sampo from the EYES of the PREY.

Splash Art: The city in the background is likely NOT on Jarilo VI

Splash Art: It looks like he's jumping off a ledge or something similar

Design: @littlekiara96 noticed that his design refers to death a little too much due to the amount of skeleton imagery on him…

Kit: His technique is to blind enemies, which may call back to the fact that he slips away easily without anyone noticing

Kit: Why are his weapons blades that turn into boomerangs and not anything related to his obvious line of work?

Kit: His basic attack is called "Dazzling Blades"; I might be overthinking but the word "dazzling" is something I would hear when one describes an actor…

Kit: His skill is called "Ricochet Love"; "ricochet" often refers to projectiles bouncing more than once off of a surface (verb) or a shot that bounces more than once off of a surface (noun)---so where does the "love" come into all this? Love is another form of pleasure; I don't know but this skill reminds me of the Masked Fools again just because of all the bouncing more than once off of a surface and the love thing..

Kit: His ultimate is called "Surprise Present"; Sampo can be called a master of the element of surprise as he often appears suddenly without anyone suspecting him to---the present can also be something unexpected and weird (like a RICKROLL) which gives off MAJOR Masked Fools vibes…

Kit: Why is his element Wind?

Kit: Why is his path Nihility? @gachagen pointed out that Nihility characters hide secrets (Welt, Pela, Silver Wolf, Kafka). For my own observation, Nihility states that the universe is meaningless while Elation states that the universe is one big joke; both paths seem to infer that the universe has little meaning…

Kit: Half his Eidolons are about his scamming business and the other half are about… love and enthusiasm; both aforementioned concepts seem to call back to the Masked Fools and Aha the Elation…

Achievements: Versatile Joker is a hidden achievement until it is unlocked… does this fact and the achievement itself indirectly infer to Sampo's secret connection to the Masked Fools and Aha the Elation?

Missions: Besides Pela, Sampo is the only other 4-star character from Jarilo VI who does not have a companion mission yet

Character Traits: He BOWS like an actor (as seen in the Jarilo VI Trailblaze Mission), as if he is bowing for his PERFORMANCE

Character Traits: If I had a penny for every time Sampo was aware that he was being watched like how Aha did in the Simulated Universe (Jarilo VI quest conclusion, Eyes of the Prey light cone), I'd have two pennies… which isn't much but it's weird that it happened twice…

And that's pretty much it! Feel free to add more observations in the replies, or reblog too.

[sundrop-writes]

Shared Trauma

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary:

Gar had a very hard day. You know you can’t take away the pain, so you try your best to distract him from it instead.

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut and Angst. Set during Season 1, Episode 7.

Word Count: 3,600

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: some emotional angst, mentions of trauma/PTSD - Gar kills someone for the first time and is very upset about it (as in the canon), friends to lovers, takes place during Season 1 Episode 7 (“Asylum”), descriptions of canon level violence, this is a smut fic, the reader character is implied to be fat, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, this isn’t a hard sub/dom relationship but there is sub/dom undertones, Gar is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, the reader calls Gar ‘good boy’ and he really likes it, tiddy sucking, p in v sex, unprotected sex, the reader rides Gar, creampie, quick/desperate sex. I believe that’s everything. Most of the focus here is on the emotional side of things and not the smut so if you wanna see more PWP, definitely let me know.

A/N: fic is titled after a Pierce The Veil song because I have been obsessed with the new album, and I think it really fits here. Having a trauma with someone, but it just draws you closer together and makes you seek comfort in them. I did consider making up a mission that wasn’t in the canon for this, but I am always drawn to how sad, wet, and pathetic he is after killing the scientist, especially if we’re doing sub!Gar - he seems especially subby and in need of comfort.

...

When you woke up alone, you weren’t entirely surprised. 

Of course you missed Gar’s presence beside you in bed. But you hadn’t exactly expected him to be sleeping peacefully after the day the two of you had. 

You and Gar were always the type of best friends to share a bed. Both of you sought the kind of comfort that could only come from cuddling close to the warm body of a safe person. Most often, you could only fall asleep beside each other. 

It had been that way since he had first been taken in by Doctor Caulder and he had come to you for comfort after he had woken up sorely missing his parents. On that first night, you had fallen asleep cradling him, and pretty much every night since then, the two of you shared a bed without question. 

The two of you were just intensely affectionate people, and you saw nothing wrong with expressing your friendship through those simple touches. It was just friendly, after all. 

The two of you always hugged each other tight and held hands while walking in public. There were many times when Gar put his arm around you or kissed you on the forehead, or times when you kissed him on the cheek. You weren’t shy about expressing your very platonic love for your best friend (at least, that’s what you had to tell yourself). 

The two of you weren’t romantically involved - you were just very close best friends. 

No matter what others thought when they looked at you, having those stereotypes in their minds about a guy and girl not being able to be ‘just friends’. Even if you wanted to play into that stereotype so badly with him - even if you wanted all of those people to be right. You would never risk ruining your friendship with him just because of some annoying crush. You were very good at keeping all of your stupid feelings trapped inside of your chest. 

Especially on days like this. When life got hardest, he needed you to be there more as a friend than anything else. And you needed him too. 

It was one of the reasons that he had gotten into bed with you that night, despite the fact that he scoffed at the very mention of trying to sleep. He wanted to be there for you. So you really weren’t surprised when you woke up and the bed was cold, void of his presence. Because of course, he couldn’t sleep. 

It had been a long, hectic, shitty day. 

After everything that had happened, you weren’t even really ‘sleeping’ yourself. 

You were drifting on the edge of consciousness, so exhausted from the day that your body was trying to forcibly knock you out. Between Kory and Dick screwing loudly on one side and Rachel and her birth mother chattering brightly and even crying on the other side, you had been having a very hard time falling asleep. That, and the horrors of the day still flashing through your mind. It made for a deadly cocktail that kept you awake. If not for the pure exhaustion of day’s events weighing you down - then you probably wouldn’t have closed your eyes at all. 

When you came back into a hard consciousness this time, though, you missed the feeling of Gar’s arm around your waist. You instantly missed the feeling of his pleasant warmth at your back - cradling you, making you feel safe. 

Before you even had your fully eyes open, you were out of bed yourself. It was almost an instinct, being so entirely drawn to him. You wandered out to the larger living space of the very expensive condo ‘safehouse’ with your socked feet on the cold floor. You clutched at your own arms under the loose sleeves of your oversized sleep shirt as goosebumps formed on your skin. 

You wondered in the back of your mind what the weather was like outside and if Dick had turned on the heat before going to bed. Then you had to wonder if adjusting the thermostat was even a concern in anyone’s mind after such a long day. It was probably only on your mind now that you were missing your human heater. 

You found Gar sitting on the couch. 

He had his oversized green headphones on, his phone screen providing the only real light in the room - aside from the everpresent glow of the city that leaked in from the tall glass panels that could be called walls in the ultra modern house. He was holding the screen inches away from his face as he slumped back against the unused couch. 

He was likely making an imprint of himself that would be the only ‘lived in’ essence of the overwhelming cold, expensive atmosphere of the place. From the sideways tilt of the screen and the way his thumbs were moving, you easily guessed that he was playing some kind of game. Something to distract his mind from the day’s events still playing there on repeat like a bad movie. 

He was wearing a pair of sweatpants that Dick had given him, dug out of a drawer of clothing that was apparently always kept in the place in case a need for it should come up. Just something else the ‘safehouse’ stocked, like food, medical supplies, and monetary currency from all different countries (because Bruce was rich and paranoid enough to be prepared for ‘any scenario’). 

Gar had paired the pants with one of your tee shirts. 

Something that was slightly big on him even with his natural muscle mass filling it out, bright tie-dye and worn-in cotton. It was purely you. Having the fabric draped over his body did make him feel at least somewhat at ease because it was soaked in your natural smell. It made him feel close to you even when he had gotten out of bed. 

He hadn’t wanted to bother you with his tossing and turning or the bright glowing light of his phone screen when he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep properly. 

He felt your presence in the room, but he didn’t look up until you crept further toward him, steering into his hazy peripheral view. He shrugged off the headphones as he looked up, locking eyes with you over the top of his phone. Your heart ached as you saw that expression so well illuminated by the sharp white light from the screen. He had the face of a kicked puppy, big wide eyes staring you down. Especially because he was making a clear effort not to let his mouth curl into a deep whimpering frown. 

You knew that the events of the day had been particularly hard on him. 

Of course, there was the obvious. The mental exhaustion and fear of being kidnapped and held hostage. The pulsating adrenaline of wondering if he was going to come out alive, on top of the worry he felt for you, Rachel, Dick, and Kory. The intense physical torture he had suffered at the hands of ‘scientists’ controlled by a doomsday cult. 

But on top of all of it, he had experienced something far worse. Something that you knew was far more taxing on his mind. 

He had killed someone for the first time. 

You feared that he was too gentle for killing. Even with the amazing power he wielded. 

Gar - someone who protested eating meat because he hated the idea of an animal being harmed for the sake of his nutrition. Gar - someone who always scooped up spiders and household pests to bring them outside because in his opinion, even the smallest of creatures deserve peace. 

You knew that he was someone who never planned on using his powers to truly harm anyone. 

But the moment the choice had been presented to him - to use his powers to harm someone, or to let you be harmed - it hadn’t really been a choice in his mind at all. 

You had been backed into a corner. You thought you had been clever, breaking out of the room they had locked you in with nothing more than an earring as a lockpick. But without a weapon and without a plan, Gar saw them threatening you and became blind with rage. 

Before he truly knew what was happening, he tasted flesh. 

A very large part of him didn’t regret it. He would choose your life over the life of someone unknown - someone who was going to hurt you - any day of the week. He knew that, if given the same choice, he would do it all over again. 

But there was another part inside of him that kept gnawing with guilt. Another part that said he was wrong, that said there should have been some other way. Something inside of him that said he was now just the villain in someone else’s story - that he wasn’t any better than the people who tried to hurt you in the first place. 

In a lot of ways, that voice said, he was worse than them. 

That voice made it difficult for him to sleep. 

“Can’t sleep?” You hummed out, approaching the couch to come and sit beside him. 

Gar did little more than shrug in response to the question. He didn’t want to admit the weakness aloud. He didn’t want to tell you that he was warring with guilt over something that the others - especially you - didn’t seem to struggle with. 

You both already knew the answer. It had been a hard day for him. Of course sleep was far beyond his grasp. 

In a silent, but comfortable exchange, Gar locked his phone and set it aside, entirely uncaring of saving his progress in the game while you sat down beside him. You slid onto the couch with your butt half nestled on top of his hip and your legs strung across his lap. He reached one arm in front of you, draping it over the thickness of your thighs. In a very natural move, he lazily wrapped his knuckles around your bare skin. 

Neither of you bothered to acknowledge your lack of pants - the fact that you were only wearing underwear with your oversized sleep shirt. You were so used to each other at this point that casual states of undress didn’t really need to be acknowledged. 

He drew mindless patterns into your skin with his thumb and slung his other arm over the back of the couch, bringing you into his lovely natural warmth. You laid your head onto his chest, easily cuddling into his side as you indulged in the familiarity. With his phone turned off, the darkness ruminating through the room was a silent cloak that enveloped the two of you. It made it much easier to fall into that routine of comfort that the two of you always embraced. 

You would explicitly deny that his touch on your bare skin felt like a deadly trail of needles erupting with fire - in the best way possible. Now was not the time for your lust to be breaking through. He was your best friend, and he was clearly in need of comfort. 

“I missed my human heater.” You mumbled out quietly, nuzzling into his side affectionately. 

He let out a hazy breath - some attempt at a laugh in response to your affectionate nickname for him. It was something he knew well about your friendship. You had a constantly chilly body, and he would always be there to warm you up with his blazen hot skin. Just another perk from his mutation - even when he got stuck out in the snow, he never ran cold. 

Now that you had acknowledged that wordless question (the reason you had gotten out of bed, why you couldn’t sleep), it was Gar’s turn to do the same. 

It hung in the air over his head and turned into a stony silence in the quiet, dark room that made each of his breaths seem particularly heavy beside your ear. It was a tension that built upon itself for a few moments. You weren’t going to ask, even though you had a feeling you virtually already knew the answer. You wondered if he was going to come out and admit it before you simply dragged him back to bed and forced him to stay there out of your own selfish need. 

But then he finally broke the silence by saying the words. 

“Whenever I close my eyes… I just keep seeing his face.” 

His words were tentative, a quiet whimper released into the room after being trapped in his chest for too long. Like electricity, shocking and impossible to avoid, you felt his pain surging through you. It caused your throat to clench painfully. You shifted slightly, turning so that you could get a better look at his face. Even in the dimness, the sad glassiness of his eyes practically glowed. 

“Gar,” 

You called out his name, your own voice giving away a depth of weakness that you held for him. Before you could help it, you were reaching up and cradling the side of his face with a cupped palm. Even though your hands were cool, the feeling was intensely comforting to him - just because it was you. He couldn’t help but lean into it, leaning on your hand as though it was the only thing in the world holding him up in that moment. When he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force some of that terrible guilt away, he accidentally forced the tears out and let them leak freely onto your hand. 

“Oh, baby.” You cooed out. 

You were entirely unsure why the nickname popped out. The sound of it on your own lips even surprised you. It was something you had never called him before. But he didn’t stop you, didn’t seem to find it unpleasant, so you continued. 

“You did what you had to do.” You told him with certainty. “You saved my life.” 

That was something infinitely valuable to him. But he wondered if somehow, he had diminished his own value in the process. 

More thick tears slipped down his face and you thumbed them away upon instinct. He swallowed thickly before he spoke again, though this time his words were heavily entrenched in those tears. 

“What if that man had a family?” Gar sniffled quietly. “What if-?” 

“Of course he had a family, Gar.” You quickly cut him off, knowing that his words were quickly spiraling into a deep, putrid guilt. 

That guilt was definitely something you felt the need to save him from. 

Upon hearing your words, he looked at you with sharp hurt in his eyes. Clearly, he had been expecting you to argue against his point, rather than confirm it. But you had a completely different line of thinking in mind.

“Everyone does.” You continued on. “Everyone has people who miss them. But you can’t waste your sympathy on some fictional family you’ve made up for the guy in your head. Having a family and being missed doesn’t give people the right to attack others and get away with it. The possibility of being missed doesn’t mean that people can go through life without seeing the consequences of their actions.” 

Gar let out a quiet huff. It was a sound of defeat - a signal saying that your words had punctured his surface, but hadn’t quite set in yet. 

When he didn’t say anything in reply, you continued. 

“You’re my family.” You told him firmly. 

You used the hold on his cheek to fully turn his head toward yours, and you gently angled into him so that your foreheads were pressed together. Gar closed his eyes and basked in the soothing feeling as you continued talking. 

“And I’m yours. And I really, truly don’t care about who lives or dies outside of us. I don’t care what happens as long as we’re safe. And we’re together.” 

You wanted to add on a verbal exception for the others - for Rachel, and Dick, and Kory, and likely Rachel’s mom just for her sake. An exception for the people who had quickly also become your family in the short time since you had met them. But you had a feeling that Gar knew about this exception in your mind without you having to voice it. 

Gar swallowed hard again, and this time you felt it bob harshly through him while pressed so closely together. You felt him let out a harsh breath before he spoke again. 

“I guess… I guess I’m just worried about what you think of me now.” He spoke the words so quietly, as if his fear even crept into voicing this. “I don’t want my favorite person in the world to be afraid of me. Or… to think I’m a bad person.” 

“I’m not afraid of you.” You quickly argued the point, a slight laughter on your lips at the mere thought of it - at the mention of being afraid of someone like him. 

Yes, he could turn into a giant green tiger, and yes, seeing him use that power to its full extent for the first time had been… jarring. But you would never be afraid of someone who cried during Pixar movies and said it was ‘inhumane’ to kill the animals in Minecraft for food. 

“I could never be afraid of you, Gar.” You easily added on. “You’re not a bad person. You’re such a good person. You’re so good. You’re such a good boy.” 

Those words struck a cord deep within his soul, and a whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it. 

“Say that again.” He told you, so pitifully that it almost sounded like begging. “Please?” 

“You’re such a good boy.” You repeated yourself, running your thumb along the soft skin of his cheek once again. “You’re a good boy, Gar.” 

In a moment, the air shifted. 

The magnetism between the two of you came to a fierce head, and the desperation, the vulnerability that the day’s events had brought forward morphed itself from pain and sadness into something the two of you knew well in the presence of each other - pure wanting. But this time, both of you were exhausted and completely lacking the energy to have any self control to hold it back. 

“Y/N-” 

He barely got out a whimper of your name before you pressed forward that extra inch, stealing his breath as you pressed your lips to his. It was a perfect moment - a beautiful culmination of everything you had ever wanted since meeting him. You definitely weren’t going to waste it. 

He moaned into the kiss and you echoed it back, gulping in breaths through your nose so you wouldn’t have to pull away from the soft cushion of his lips, not even for a moment. When he reached for a greedy grip on the back of your head, filthy and wanting, gently nibbling on your bottom lip - your instincts took over. You blindly swung a leg out, climbing over his waist, and he let out a sharp hiss at the feeling of your weight being planted in his lap. You were beautiful and whole as you sat down on top of him, a perfect reminder that this wasn’t just a dream as his cock quickly swelled to life under the heat of your core where it brushed against his borrowed pants. 

“Please-” He whimpered into your mouth, barely able to get the word out before you sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him moan out shakily in the most beautiful way. 

You planted your hands on his shoulders, easily taking control of the situation - not that he cared. He felt like he belonged under your controlling grip, under the pleasant weight of your body as his hard cock throbbed underneath your perfect weight. In a blur of heady kisses, swapping breath with the only man you had ever wanted like this, you got your underwear off and got his pants around his ankles. He shoved your shirt up over your breasts to possessively latch onto one of them with his mouth as you reached down and lined up his pulsing cock with your wet, wanting cunt. 

“Oh-” 

He let out another beautifully pathetic whimper as you sunk down onto him in one smooth movement. Your tight, wet heat quickly surrounded him and made his head spin. You felt so full that it almost choked you, but the hot pangs of electricity that shot up through your pussy easily spurred you on. You wasted no time before you began a brutal pace, bouncing on his lap as if he was nothing more than a toy for your own pleasure. The slap of skin on skin was irritably loud in the otherwise silent room, accompanied only by Gar’s harsh, animalistic pants and your choked-off moans as you struggled to comprehend the fullness of his nearly overwhelming cock. 

You both needed it. You needed the intense sting of pleasure to push out the worries of the day. 

With Gar’s hands gripping at your waist as if you might slip away at any moment and his face buried in your breasts, you almost didn’t hear the quiet murmur of his request when he managed to get the words out beyond that blinding pleasure. 

“Say it again,” He choked out past his harsh breaths. “Please!” 

It took your cock-drunk brain a moment to comprehend it, but when the gears fully churned, you instantly knew what he meant. 

“You’re a good boy,” 

You moaned out, reaching a hand up to pet through his hair. You took a fierce grip on those green locks, never once faltering in the harsh, unforgiving rhythm of your hips as you continued to piston yourself up and down on his cock. 

“You’re a good boy, Gar.” 

“Oh - fuck!” Gar grunted into your chest. 

At the sound of your voice saying this, declaring that he was a good boy - he abruptly came inside you.

[bibibbon]

MHA chapter 419 rant

What the actual hell is this chapter ?!?!?!? What is going on horikoshi?!?!??

So suprise AFO IS BACK👎👎👎 seriously what the hell I knew he was gonna come back but he is so boring and I hate him as a villain like wdym you only pulling up with a plan that failed multiple times cos you have thing for your brother like!?!? The doctor and the hero comission could of been better villains. My point still stands AFO being the main bad guy even though this mf was killed and injured by everyone is lame and stupid 😭. Like can AFO just disappear out of existence already like?!?! Also I really doubt that dfo is true considering this guy just loves to act like a season 1 bakugo and call Izuku useless every breathing moment he gets. Also at this point afo out here using shigaraki like a wet human suit thing and that's it

Shigaraki is dead?!?!!!? Vile. Y'all telling me that shigaraki is basically dead this guy basically killed himself after a little fight (it wasn't little that's a hyperbole it was huge he deserves better than this disservice) sigh so shigaraki died with all his memories and the truth of his own origin which is completely sad and wow the amount of retconning for this is insane. Wdym to tell me that AFO needed someone emotionally weak to take advantage of so he chose kotaro, befriended the guy and manipulated him into having Tenko and then used Tenko as his little thing to make the perfect vessel!?!???!? DAM SHIGARAKI IAM SORRRY HORI DID YOU LIKE THIS

Izuku lost two arms and is getting the worst end of the stick as always. As an izuku Stan this isn't it for me like what are you telling me that HE LOST TWO ARMS AND THEN PEOPLE DO COME BUT I AINT SEEING NONE TRYNA HELP THIS GUY. ALSO IZUKU IS NOW ARMLESS AND QUIRKLESS WHATS GOOD ON HERE??!?????!?!? Also looks like izuku out here being the only one who doesn't actually get a full heart to heart with their villain at least ochako and toga were treated better and got that little sob scene where they called eachothers names out and what not but izuku and shigaraki gotta be sentenced to pure suffering for no reason 🤦‍♀️. Also the whole page is Hella and I mean Hella creepy and off like wth is this it's too gory (I know that's not valid criticism but this is my opinion) Izuku out here being the only one who can't be a proper hero like the guy couldn't even stand up to AFO unlike bk this is just mountains and mountains of disrespect and disservice . SOMEONE CHECK UP ON POOR INKO AND IZUKU

The quirks the backstory the things?!?!. So basically overhaul had the oh quirk or whoever the guy in the picture manga panel thingy which looks like OVERHAUL. This guy had an op quirk like he had the power of destruction and reconstruction but then afo takes that away and then has the doctor somehow somehow genetically modify it ( istg i still dont know how that works or how he could do that) and then TOOK SHIGARAKIS OG QUIRK WHICH (what was his og quirk we arent ever told) and then proceedes to set this child who wanted to be a hero for pure failure. Also what is going on with AFO and kotaros relationship and why does the description of kotaro being mentally/emotionally weak heavily remind me of inko midoriya. Also the RETCON LIKE OH AFO IS LIKE HAVE A KID FOR ME OR SOME BS AND HE HAS A KID AND THEN KOTARO APPARENTLY FULLY LOVES HIS FAMILY HOWEVER IT LOOKS LIKE KOTARO LOVES AFO More THAN HIS FAMILY

Eraserhead making a comeback and finally apologising (or not). I mean at least Eraserhead is back and apologising to his student for failing to be a teacher to him which ok cool cliffhanger I guess. Also where is mic I don't think I can take it if mic is secretly off screened especially cos Eraserhead is crying why is the guy crying like is he crying for izuku which dam as he should your student is dying but he was legit shouting left and right for bakugo 🤷‍♀️. Also Eraserhead has a lot of apologies for izuku considering how he treated the poor dude. ALSO DOES THIS MEAN OBORO IS BACK TO THE PLOT SOMEHOW ( I love oboro) but how does this work how did it happen how did he break free Iam so confused did much due for oboro or something.

Sato, ojirou and sero out here coming in clutch. but none y'all running to see if izuku ain't gonna die from blood loss or something. Cool entry I guess everyone can take a good fight with AFO but Izuku because hori doesn't like izuku and izuku just sucks!!!. I get it 1A is too big so hori out here needing to give everyone their little moments but like?!?! This just makes afo seem so weak it first went from only all might being the one to even fouch and defeat afo and now its everyone thats not the ofa users which great (sarcasm if you couldn't tell). ALSO THIS MOMENT DONT WORK BECAUSE IZUKU LACKS DEVELOPMENT AND SO DOES 1A and their whole dynamic?!?!?!!!!!???!

I Have ALREADY SEEN THE SHIGARAKI MIGHT COMEBEACK COS AFO CAN HEAR HIS ECHO BUT I DONT WANT HIM BACK AND IF HE DOES HE SHOULD DIE WITH IZUKU COS I GENUINELY GIVE UP

In conclusion, I hope both izuku and shigaraki die and izuku to be remembered as the greatest hero and that's it honestly!!

[writeyouin]

Doctor Who (11) X Reader - Holding You

Description - The Doctor finds you sleeping in his bed, and he can't bring himself to leave you. Angst. Hurt / Comfort.

A/N - So, after 29 years I finally see what all the fuss is about and got into Doctor Who. I was just never into it before but now I'm really watching it and I adore it, so I had to write this.

Warnings - None.

Rating - T

Usually, adventures with the Doctor were grand events, full of intrigue, mischief, and maybe a dash of trouble, but the trouble was nothing that you and he together couldn't handle.

Yet, for the first time, things had gone terribly wrong. For the first time ever on an adventure, you hadn't felt safe with the Doctor, almost meeting your end as you were faced with the reality that you could die on any mission and you very nearly had. Yet, even though you had lived and would see another day, you didn't feel good about it when you considered the mass genocide of an alien race that both you and the Doctor had been unable to prevent.

After such an unfathomably awful event, you weren't sure what to do. So, to give yourself some time to think, you told the Doctor that you were going to bathe, and that was that, he didn't even question it, falling into his own quiet despair as he singlehandedly manned the TARDIS, flying it into Deep Space until the two of you were ready to go somewhere else.

Eventually, when you didn't return, the Doctor began wondering where you were and if you had gotten lost; it was quite possible since you weren't familiar with the TARDIS like he was, and it was considerably larger than anyone really anticipated it to be.

The Doctor stroked the TARDIS' control panel affectionately.

"Stay on course, old girl," He instructed. "I think our friend might be having a hard time of it."

With that, he left the control room and began searching for you, calling your name and masking his pain with a charming grin and a jovial tone. In truth, he would have liked to be allowed to cry but at his age, when he had already seen the worst of everything, he was more apt to comfort others and pretend that everything was okay even when it most definitely wasn't.

The Doctor searched room after room, going through them methodically as he sought you out, hoping that you weren't hiding away where he wouldn't be able to help you.

Eventually, the TARDIS' strip lights turned on, setting out a path for him to follow.

"Clever girl," The Doctor praised the TARDIS, his wonderful ship.

He followed the lights to the one room he hadn't expected and for a moment, he was certain that the TARDIS had made a mistake or was ordering him to rest, for of all the rooms on the ship, it had led him to his own bedroom.

There were six bedrooms in total on the ship, and though the Doctor hardly spent any time in his, often just falling asleep in the control room or on one of the catwalks, he did still keep one room for himself. Having often dropped you off at home, the Doctor hadn't gotten around to presenting you with one of the other rooms yet, though he had meant to.

Heading inside, the Doctor fell silent, finding you asleep on the bed. You didn't look peaceful, nor did you look happy as many often did at times of rest; instead you simply looked tired. It was quite likely, the Doctor supposed, that you had indeed gone to seek out the bathroom and instead gotten mixed up and had found this room instead, though you likely wouldn't have known it was his room.

Did you even have any idea that the Doctor avoided this room so much because when he stared at the ceiling on a night, his head and hearts were full of ideas of you?

Ideally, the Doctor knew that he ought to leave you there to rest, but he too was tired. He was heartbroken by his losses today, and his bones were weary with age. He longed for a simple life, a human life that he would never be permitted. The TARDIS was his home, his responsibility, and sometimes, just sometimes it was his prison, constantly reminding him that he was a nomad and couldn't revel in an ordinary life with a person he loved. Oh, how he dreamed of the things that most people cast off as mundane.

Yes, he knew that he should leave you to your rest and set himself about on another task, but he loved you, and if he couldn't have you to hold forever, then he could at least have you for a moment.

Moving quietly, the Doctor got into bed beside you and leaned into the curve of your body, holding you delicately, and taking a moment to breathe you in.

He pulled the blanket over you both and then exhaled contentedly.

No doubt when you awoke he would make some hyperactive excuse as to why he was there, casually brushing it off as normal or perhaps blaming you for taking his bed, but for now, while you were asleep, he could simply dwell in the comfort of a night holding you.

[12-seconds-to-live]

How do we say goodbye?

pairing - f1drivers/2022

summary - this is pt2 of “How do I say goodbye?” 

warnings -  mentions of death, explicit language, description of a crash.

word count: 1.255

“I wonder if I was in a coma, who would visit me in the hospital?”

For the drivers, hearing that letter was something, to imagine a member of their family thinking about their goodbye was not very common. Inexplicable and sad.

Everyone was in the hospital waiting to enter your room and see you, to dedicate words that without knowing if they would do any good, help you heal, wake up, laugh with them at the jokes, comfort them when they thought they would lose you or at least say goodbye.

How to say goodbye?

"Good morning, are you all related to Miss Brooks? - a chorused yes was heard in the waiting room. "Well, please, the first person may enter, take as much time as you need."

Between them they all exchanged glances, they had never heard a doctor say such a thing, considering 19 people in the waiting room. Lando and Alex sat with tears about to come out of their eyes. Daniel turned his gaze to the door of your room and walked in. For Daniel, being the soul of the group by always having a smile on his face is an incredible quality but seeing you on that gurney with lots of wires, a breathing mask and no trace of your cheerful look and contagious smile broke his heart. What could he say? It's like losing your little sister. He pulled a chair closer to you and took your hand, cold and without a trace of warmth.

  "I'm afraid, afraid of losing you, much more afraid of leaving Formula 1. You always know what to say and how to make us laugh. You're not afraid of what people will say about you. We are not best friends like you are with Alex but I don't know what my life would be...our life without you" Daniel felt the tears falling and uncontrollably "I'm sorry but..... Please fight and recover, I will wait for you to show you Perth as you have always wanted, accompany you in your next podiums and live life" With a last look, Daniel gets up from the chair and before leaving he says what he thinks is right in case you don't come back "Don't say goodbye again, please, I love you and I am not good at goodbyes and even more when I know you are coming back".

Alex is the next to enter the room next to George. Your teammate is not feeling well but is still very sure what to say to you "Lily says hi, she's sorry she can't be here and that she's waiting for you to play golf together, clearly you're her favorite student" He looks up and George encourages him to continue "I hate this. You have been an amazing teammate, you care about everyone on the team and you have accomplished so much more than I have this season, no, that has never bothered me because I am happy for your accomplishments as you are for mine and please wake up. You are our family, we are heartbroken and we don't know what to do after seeing how you were taken out of the car. No one will replace your place Alice, I...I want you to know that you are our favorite person". George, who has tears forming in his eyes says "We will wait for you and we don't accept that you will give up".

Lando enters the room and the image of everyone around your helmet, remembering your short F1 career makes him sigh sadly "I never thought you were so sentimental. Although it's not your fault, I'm really sorry that the FIA is so stupid and they don't see what their actions cause" The British man runs his hands over his face trying to think what he can say that won't make him cry a lot more. "I don't want to say goodbye to you, you are my other sister, my best friend and...and it's not right for me to tell you but Zak made an offer for you to be with me next season and I've been wanting to tell you for weeks because I admire you and I want you with me or without me to achieve your dreams and be the best female driver ever" Another sigh. "I promise if you wake up I will stop pulling your hair so you hear me before everyone else, stop calling you in the middle of the night for nonsense and only post pictures of you on networks that you like. I miss you, we all do and we want to see you competing."

Carlos seeing you in such a way on the stretcher closes his eyes and sighs. Since you met you have considered him a big brother and he is one of the people who suffers the most from your jokes "I never expected to see you like this, pequeña. I called your parents yesterday and cried with them. Apart from Isa, I think you're the only girl my parents know and well...I don't want the last image I see of you to be here" The Spaniard sits back and watches your slow way of breathing. "The Canadian GP was postponed. Your accident has caused noise and no one has the head to get in the car and race with an empty seat. You will be back and stronger than ever, we have no doubt about that. The rest of the world has yet to see what Alice is capable of."

Charles and Pierre are the only ones who are dedicated to keeping you company, words are superfluous and the sentiment is the same, they want you to come back and be the soul of the grid again.

Yuki leaves next to your bed a Koala doll, one of your favorite animals and hopes that when you see it, a smile will appear on your face. He's not very good with words, but the Japanese guy has always enjoyed your company and your efforts to get a smile out of him and give him ideas on how to ruin the intro of the AlphaTauri podcast. He takes your hand and says the only sensible thing and that if perhaps you listen to him, know that it comes from his heart "We love you and we need you. Without you we are not the same and I don't want that feeling to be the constant reminder of you."

Checo and Max enter the room together. Checo prays in Spanish while Max gives you one of his serious looks. Without expressing it, he feels fear, dread, anger that you will give up and not come back. Not having a partner to practice with on the simulator or running in the mornings or practicing phrases to annoy the press. With a simple "please" he takes your hand and follows his partner out of the room.

Lewis and Sebastian are dedicated to reminding you of the times they gave you the lessons to get you started successfully in F1, clearly you heard them those times. They hope to see you reach the championship, to be a star and the inspiration for the next generation. They hope they are right.

The rest of the grid visits you and gives you words of encouragement to heal and return to your team and family. They are not certain what is coming for you, but their minds don't want to think about a memorial or a funeral. Traces of past memories of people who have meant so much in their lives make their presence known and for you to enter into those memories would be the worst of this season...of this life.

June 27, 2022 at 02:37 marked the date when you moved your left hand and opened your eyes, alone in a hospital room, ready to move on with your life, ready to hug your friends and tell them you heard them and thank them, ready to put on your helmet and get in your car and make history.

Ready to run off to a new adventure

‘cause you’re not ready to say goodbye.

[ultralightpoe]

Pearl, Peach and Pomegranate - Tangerine

Authors Note: I am working on requests rn but I had to write this because it’s been stuck in my head all dayyyyyy -- Let me know if you want more of this little family?

Description: The Three times Tangerine meets the loves of his life

Warnings: birth giving

Word Count: 1730

If you like Taylor Swift and my writng then look at my writing event I have HERE! I think you will really enjoy it! 

Enjoy!

Pearl  

You were having a good day, this much Tan knew. 

He had been watching you for days, sitting in the back booth of a pub near a mission he had taken, with his brother. They still had two more weeks of work and Tan was just fine with spending every second he could sitting right here…..watching you. 

“You should go talk to her.” Lemon offers, playing the straw of his lemonade, smiling a bit when Tan shakes his head. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“She could hear me, mate.” Tangerine snaps, his face thrown in an incredulous look as if the thought was the worst thing he had ever heard. His rings glint in the light as he grabs the empty glass in front of him and breathes out. 

“Well you need another drink.”

“She seems busy.” Lemon laughs at this, gesturing to where you were polishing glasses with no one bothering you. “Okay okay. Fine.”

Risking one last glance at his brother before sitting up and scooting out of the booth, taking three easy strides across the bar until his hands touch the wooden bartop that separates you from him. You don’t notice him at first, which he is affronted and glad for, and he took a second to watch you a bit closer. 

You were pretty from a distance but at this angle you were absolutely stunning, from your hair to your outfit all the way to the pearl dangly earrings you wore in your ear. 

“Oh hey! Sorry, what can I get for ya?” You smile and he swears he feels his heart stop. It takes him a minute to clear his throat and come up with a good response, a heat traveling his skin. 

“How about your number?” Smooth. Bloody smooth. 

“Or maybe you can start with my name?” You laugh, reaching a hand out to him. “I’m Y/n.”

“Tangerine.” He responds, reaching to shake your hand and there is a zap when your skin hits his. 

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were using code names.” You tease, shaking your head. 

“Get a grip, pearl. Catch on.” He laughs, sitting on the stool to stare at you.

“Pearl?”

“Yeah, my lil’ pearl.”

—---------------------

Peach 

“How ya doin’ love?” Tangerine asks, decked out in protective hospital scrubs, leaning down to kiss your forehead as you grunted in pain for the hundredth time. 

You were covered in sweat, tears sliding down your cheeks, and his hand had lost feeling 10 minutes ago due to your tight grip but Tan had never been so in love with you. Which was astounding considering he worshiped the ground you walked on. The pearl wedding ring you wore began digging into his hand as you yelled out while the doctors began trying to do breathing exercises with you and you tried to keep your cool, you really did. But the second the sweet short nurse started handing you another ice chip you lost it a bit. “Get the fuck OUT OF MY SPACE WITH YOUR UNMELTED WATER!”

A laugh crawls up Tans throat that is quickly diminished when he sees the nurse give you a dirty look, a protective anger washes over him and he reaches a hand over to snatch the cup from her. “I can handle this, yeah? Why don’t ya’ go hover over another pregnant lady?”

His eyebrows are pinched together and when he leans forward to give her his best ‘fuck around and find out’ look the gold chain he always wears pops out of the scrubs and flashes. You hum, coming down from a contraction and your hold on his right hand softens the slightest bit. 

The nurse, apparently not as stupid as he thought, backs out and removes herself from the room. The second the door closes he turns to you and leans his head in, allowing you to smell the peppermint he loved so much. “Say the word Pearl, and I’ll go handle her.”

“Easy there tiger.” You laugh, letting go of his hand to reach up and hold the back of his shirt and draw him in. “No death on our baby's day.”

So he listened, and he is thankful he was here for this because 2 hours later you were holding a small bundle in your arms as Tan paced the room anxiously. The doctors had left to check all the test results to make sure the baby was okay leaving you three alone in the room. 

The purple bundle (Lemon had insisted purple was a lucky color for babies and made a blanket himself) was so silent and terrifying that Tan had to stay on the other side of the room. 

He, for the first time in his fucking life, felt so vile. Like he would taint the air his daughter breathed, his pure precious daughter. 

“Would you stop pacing and come hold her?” You ask, a soft look on your face.

“I…..Pearl I can’t-” He chokes up, body tightening and eyes welling with tears. “I don’t wanna hurt her.”

“My arms are so tired, please?” It was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that, but you knew the only way he’d get over his fear is if he thought you were in pain. Within moments he was across the room, hands shaking as he slowly picked her up into his arms and sat in the chair beside your bed. 

Tangerine had been on countless missions where he had to keep himself contained in order not to get caught, and yet never once in his life had he ever sat so still. He couldn’t risk hurting the……

And that’s when he sees her, looking down on the sweetest face he has ever seen, peacefully sleeping. Tears began flowing from his eyes and you laughed lightly as you watched, crying yourself. 

“How do we feel about the name Peach?” You finally ask after a moment of crying and Tangerine could do nothing else but nod. Because at that moment he knew he would tear out his own heart for his little girl, his sweet baby Peach. 

—------------------

Pomegranate 

He was still covered in blood by the time the plane landed, Lemon panting by his side as they raced through the airport with tons of people turning to stare at them. If this was any other day he would have changed into a fresh suit and tried to hide the proof of what he had just done. 

But he had no time to fuck around today. 

You had told him you had a feeling something was gonna happen before he left, and the both of you assumed that feeling revolved around him getting hurt on the mission, so he had promised to stay safe and kissed you passionately before he bent down to kiss Peach’s head and left. 

Little did he know that your feeling would end up meaning you would go into labor 8 days early and he would miss the birth of his second daughter. 

“Lemon, hurry THE FUCK UP!” He barks when they reach the parking lot, rushing to the cars in the back and both finding the first one that was unlocked and throwing their stuff in the back. 

Lemon sets his bag down  lightly, shaking his head when Tangerine chucks his own on top. “Be careful, yeah? I got that gift for Peach in there.”

Lemon had taken his job as godfather very seriously and now every place they went he collected an ornament for your daughter so she could hang it on her little pine in the backyard. 

“Yeah yeah. Your Peach’s favorite blah blah blah. Shut the fuck up mate.” Tan snaps, hopping in the drivers seat and hotwiring the car. “I got her a barbie.”

“She likes G.I. Joes.”

“Well France didn’t have any fucking- you know what? I don’t have to explain myself to you because the barbie I got was cool. Yeah? So fucking awesome. Wearin’ scrubs and everything so why don’t ya piss off?” 

Lemon shakes his head, obviously amused and holds on tight as his brother tears through the streets like a wild man. By the time they actually make it to the house the car is nearly out of gas and definitely burnt through the oil. 

The second he has it parked he is rushing out, racing up the front steps and opening the front door. 

Peach squeals in excitement, dropping the two figurines she had been playing with, and jumping across the room to dive into his arms. 

“There she is! My plump little Peach!” Tan sighs, wrapping his arms around her tightly and pulling her in. Every worry seemed to vanish when you or your daughter hugged him and for that he was eternally grateful. “Where is ma?”

“Upstairs!” She smiles, pulling out of his hug much to his chagrin and dragging him up the stairs to the nursery he had set up a month before he left. 

The door is silent when he cracks it open, but his daughter stomps across the room calling for you. You smile, sitting up in the rocking chair when you see them both, and fix the bundle you were holding so he could get a better look.

He never wanted to meet his second child covered in blood, and he was embarrassed at the fact that this is how his new baby would meet him at all. Not that it mattered considering she wouldn’t actually recognize colors or remember this when she grows up. 

You hand her off, kissing the top of the blanket before moving to pick up Peach so she didn’t feel left out. Tangerine tries to catch his breath as the baby blinks at him, waking up and looking straight at him.

“She’s looking at me.” He says, heart beating out of his chest. Suddenly the baby smiles and coos and he feels like throwing up in excitement. 

“She must recognize your voice.” You smile, bringing Peach closer to see. 

“What did you name her?”

“Well I figured we had a tradition to uphold and since I was craving Pomegranate seeds for 9 months it seemed fitting to name her…”

“Pomegranate.” He smiles, a laugh escaping him. “Oh she’s gonna grow up hatin’ us for that one. I love it.”

“Hey papa?”

“Yeah Peach?”

“What is all over you?”

“Uhm…..paint?” 

(If you like Taylor Swift and my writing take a look at my writing event for April HERE! I think you will really like it! Let me know if you want more of Tangerine and his two daughters!)

[storiesforallfandoms]

like father ~ diego hargreeves;umbrella academy

word count: 2817

request?: yes!

“Hii! Could you please write a Diego Hargreeves x pregnant!reader fic :) If you feel uncomfortable you don't need to”

description: after she tells him she’s pregnant, he starts to worry about ending up like his father

pairing: diego hargreeves x female!reader

warnings: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, absolutely tooth rotting fluff

masterlist (one, two, three)

You never thought two simple, little lines would ever change your life so drastically. And yet, here you were, stood in your bathroom, looking down at the two digital lines that had effectively changed everything for you within five minutes.

You weren’t sure how long you had been stood there. You had been sat on the floor for the five minutes it took the test results to appear, but once the alarm you set on your phone had gone off, you stood. And now you continued to stand, still staring at the test. Had it been minutes? Hours? Days? Who knew. All you knew was that there was a life growing inside of you, and you had no idea how Diego was about to take the news.

Maybe it was something that should’ve been discussed in the early days of your relationship, but the idea of kids had never been brought up between the two of you. You knew that you wanted them, but not so badly that it would be a dealbreaker if Diego didn’t. He hadn’t brought up the idea before, and you didn’t think to bring it up, either. So, the topic just went undiscussed for a very long time.

Until now, when it was definitely too late to make the decision considering you already had a bun in the oven.

You wanted to desperately to be happy. Deep down, you felt kind of excited. The only thing dampening your mood was the dozens of outcomes running through your head of having to tell Diego that you were pregnant. You wanted to try and hope for the best, but your mind kept thinking of all the possible bad endings this could have.

When you heard the front door open and shut, you flinched. It was now or never, although you really wished it could be never.

Diego was walking up to you with wide smile as you exited the bathroom. He picked you up in his arms, causing you to exclaim as he lifted you off the ground. You couldn’t help but smile, hoping that this reaction would stay once you gave him the news.

“Hey baby,” he said. “How was your day?”

“It was...alright,” you responded. “Listen, I have to tell you something.”

He placed you down on the floor, still smiling a little but also a concerned look behind his eyes. “Uh-oh. That’s doesn’t sound good.”

“Depends on how you take the news.”

You passed him the pregnancy test. He took it and looked down at it. For a moment, there was no reaction. The suspense was killing you. And then, realization crossed his face.

“Wait,” he said. “Is this...?”

You nodded.

“How long...?” He trailed off.

“How long have I known? Or how far along am I?” you asked. When he didn’t respond, you decided to answer both questions, “I only just found out, but I’ve had a suspicion for a while. My period was late and it’s never been late before, and I’ve been experiencing some other signs of pregnancy. I don’t know how far along I am. I would have to make a doctor’s appointment to find out.”

He was still silent. He kept looking down at the pregnancy test in his hands. You wished he would give you some sort of reaction. Literally anything. Even if it was anger, you would’ve taken it over the silence. It was eating away at you, making you feel even more uneasy by the second.

Finally, he passed you back the pregnancy test and turned away. He started to walk away from you, and you quickly kept up the pace with him to follow. “Where are you going?”

“I just...I need to go out for a minute.”

“You just got home.”

“I need to go out again.”

“Diego, please.” You reached out to grab hold of him. He stopped walking for a moment, but didn’t look back at you. “Can you at least...tell me how you feel? Tell me what this means for us if I...if I want to keep it?”

But he still didn’t respond. He pulled away and started for the front door again. He didn’t even slam the door to give you any sort of clue as to whether or not he was upset. He just walked off, got into his car, and then drove away.

You watched him go before sitting back on the floor. You pulled your knees up to your chest and began to cry.

~~~~~~

You managed to pull yourself together long enough to make a doctor’s appointment for a few day’s time. You texted Diego to let him know and to tell him that if he wanted to go with you that you would greatly prefer that. When he didn’t respond you weren’t shocked, but it truly broke your heart even more.

You didn’t think this would be a dealbreaker for Diego. You didn’t think he’d get so upset that he would just up and leave. The two of you had been together for many years. You had a bond that seemed to unbreakable, to a point where even his siblings noticed how much happier he had been since meeting you. You remembered the first time you ever met the Hargreeves family, where Luther pulled you aside before you left and thanked you for “making Diego, Diego again”.

And now he was gone. No calls, no texts, no indications on whether or not this relationship was going to continue. All because you told him that you were pregnant.

Your upset was starting to melt into anger.

If he wanted to react this way, then fine, he could react this way. But he wouldn’t have you anymore if that was the case. You’d raise this baby all on your own if you had to. You didn’t need Diego.

You were in the process of calling your mom to ask her to come with you to the appointment when you heard the front door open and close. You hung up before your mom answered and slowly rose from your spot on the bed. You knew who it likely was and you weren’t sure if that made you more or less tense.

Diego appeared in the doorway just as you were about to step out. You were inches away from one another. He was looking at you in a way you once again weren’t able to read. Your anger was still fresh, so you stepped back and crossed your arms.

“Welcome home,” you said, coolly. “I wasn’t sure if you’d even come back.”

He winced at your words. “Of course I was going to come back.”

“I don’t know, you left pretty quickly after I gave you the news. When that happens, it usually means that person isn’t coming back.”

The hurt look on his face didn’t go unnoticed. You felt a little bit of pride knowing he was feeling remorse for what he did.

“I just...needed to think,” he said.

You raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to go on. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Look, come sit. I can explain everything.”

He reached out for you, but you took a step away. You turned your back to him and walked back to the bed. You both sat on the edge, leaving a bigger space between the two of you than you wanted. You couldn’t be close to him without caving, you knew that. Now that he was back, your hormones were running wild (could you even blame the pregnancy hormones yet?”, but you had to stay strong. You couldn’t cave just yet.

He was silent for a moment. You were about to open your mouth to tell him to get on with it, but he cut you off by saying, “I was scared.”

“Scared?” you questioned. “Of what? Of...of the pregnancy?”

“Of being like my dad.”

You felt your angry tension leaving your body. You moved a few inches closer to Diego, your brows furrowing together. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve told you about my dad. How he was never actually...well, a dad. He treated me and my siblings like shit. We were weapons to him. We weren’t kids to him. He fucked us all up big time.”

“I know all of this, but what does it have to do with you walking out on me after I told you I was pregnant?”

“I only had two parental figured growing up: my robot mom and my asshole father. When you told me you were pregnant, I was happy. But that happiness was overshadowed by this fear that, since Hargreeves is the only parenting style I know, that I’ll...I’ll be just as bad as him.”

You closed the gap between the two of you completely. You took his hand in yours. Now he was the one having issues making eye contact with you. You could see the moisture forming in his eyes, something he only ever let you see, and even then it was rare.

“You’re not going to be like your dad,” you assured him. “For one, I’m not popping out seven kids at one time for you to try and train as a superhero team.”

A small smile appeared on his face, which you took as a win.

“But, to me, the fact that you’re so worried about ending up like your dad means that you won’t. You’re aware of your dad’s behavior and how its effected you and your siblings, and you know you don’t want to continue that cycle with our baby.”

His eyes darted towards your stomach for a split second. You took the hand you were holding and flattened his palm against your stomach. There was no sign of a bump yet, you knew you were too early in the pregnancy for that, but you couldn’t help but already picture the baby that was growing in there.

“But what if I fuck their life up?” Diego asked, his voice soft.

“You won’t,” you assured him. “I know you won’t. You’re going to be a great father, and this baby is going to be lucky to have you as their father.”

A tear ran down his cheek. He was quick to wipe it away, but his eyes were watering quicker than he could wipe them. Diego pulled you into a tight hug. You rested your head against his chest and took in his familiar smell and warmth. You were glad to have gotten past the issue, even if you wished he had said something before he left you in your uncertainty for so long.

You exclaimed in shock as Diego pulled you both down to lay flat on the bed. He let go of the hug to sit over you. His hands pulled up your shirt just enough to expose your belly. You giggled as he pressed a kiss against your soft skin, the stubble of his beard tickling your sensitive skin.

“I don’t care what you are, or if you come out with powers or not,” he said to your stomach. “I already love you so much, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you and your mom are safe and happy for the rest of my life.”

You felt tears starting to well up in your eyes as you ran a hand through Diego’s hair. He looked up at you and you felt like he had taken the breath from your lungs with just one look. You smiled at him and he smiled back before he raised himself up to become level with you again. When he kissed you, it was gentle and full of love and passion.

“I want to come to that appointment,” he told you between the kisses he pressed against your cheek, your jaw, your neck. “The one you texted me about. I want to know that our baby is healthy in there.”

“I want nothing more than for you to come with me,” you responded, a soft whimper escaping your lips as his lips found your sweet spot. “And I’m glad you want to come with me.”

In response, he pulled your shirt the rest of the way off and you both helped each other to take the rest of your clothes off and discard them onto the floor, both them and the earlier issue long forgotten.

~~~~~~

You could tell Diego was nervous the day of the appointment. He had tossed and turned so much the night before that he had woken you a few times (not that you were going to tell him that as you knew he’d feel bad if you did), he refused breakfast because he said he wasn’t hungry enough to eat, and he seemed very unfocused as you both got ready and drove to the doctor’s office. You offered to drive since you weren’t sure if you could trust him behind the wheel in this state.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous as well. You were afraid of what the outcomes to this appointment might be; of the doctor telling you that you had a false positive pregnancy test and weren’t actually pregnant; that there was something wrong with the baby; hell, even just the idea of the doctor confirming the pregnancy made you nervous. As excited as you were to be having this baby with Diego, you were also nervous for what pregnancy really entailed. You and Diego had agreed to wait before telling his family, but you were dying to talk to Allison about it since she was the only woman in your life - besides your own mother, of course - to have gone through a pregnancy.

You arrived at the doctor’s office and were brought in almost immediately. The doctor did some standard tests just to check your health and confirmed to you and Diego that you were as healthy as a horse.

“You’ll be just fine to go through this pregnancy,” he told the both of you. “But, of course, we’ll want to do annual check ups just to be sure you and the baby are doing alright.”

You nodded, although you weren’t completely absorbing his words. You were waiting for him to get to the part of the appointment that you and Diego had actually been waiting for: the ultrasound. The test that would truly confirm for the two of you whether or not you were pregnant.

The doctor helped you up onto the bed in his office and had you pull up your shirt just enough that he could see your belly. You suppressed a yelp as he put a cold, jelly like substance on your stomach and started up the ultrasound machine. The machine’s humming noise filled the room as the doctor placed the wand against your stomach and started moving it around. At first, you couldn’t see anything and you felt your heart drop. You were convinced that your worst nightmare was being confirmed - there was no baby in there.

But then the doctor said, “Ah, there you are.”

He pointed to his screen where a grey blob, no bigger than the shape of a peanut, was on display.

“It may not look like it just yet,” the doctor said, “but there’s your baby right there.”

“Whoa,” you breathed, unable to believe it.

“Holy shit,” Diego said. “That little bean turns into a baby?”

The doctor chuckled. “I know, it’s hard to believe. The fetus usually doesn’t actually develop to look like a baby until the later stages of the second trimester into the third trimester. Most people can’t even see the little blob of the fetus in their first ultrasounds like this and start to believe there’s no fetus in there.”

You tried not to let it show on your face that you were one of those people.

Diego took your hand in his. You looked up at him and saw his eyes were fixated intently on the screen. You could see they were starting to gloss over with tears again, but you knew Diego wasn’t about to try in front of a stranger like this.

You squeezed his hand and he finally looked down at you. You couldn’t help but smile at him, and he smiled back.

“That’s our baby,” he said, looking back to the screen. “I can’t believe it, but...that’s our little bean.”

“It is,” you said, feeling yourself becoming overwhelmed with emotions again. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m going to protect that little bean till the ends of the Earth.”

You let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. Diego brushed his lips against your knuckles before leaning down to kiss your lips.

In that moment, you swore nothing could make you happier. But you knew that, within the next nine months, you’d be having another happy moment that would definitely trump this one.