#and he stuck one back on mine saying “yea and?”

[dumbtsun]

I may have sorta kinda just impulsively confessed

[scarletwinterxx]

the archer - choi seungcheol imagine

helllloo ~ short backstory as to why this is titled 'the archer', i was omw home one day and the line "Who could ever leave me, darling But who could stay?" just stuck. i hope when you read this one, it will make sense😅 oh and yea we have a cute shy cheol for this one sksksks

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(photos not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve heard the crying before but tonight, it’s relentless. For nearly an hour now, it’s been Soojin’s voice echoing through your studio, softening only to rise again like a wave you can’t block out with pillows or music.

You lie there, eyes on the ceiling, heart pacing with a mixture of concern and hesitation. It’s not your place. You barely know him—Choi Seungcheol, your next-door neighbor with the quiet eyes and tired smile. You’ve exchanged the occasional nod in the hallway, a few polite words in the elevator. He moved in six months ago, shortly after the baby was born. Alone.

But something about the way the cries go unanswered tonight makes you swing your legs out of bed and pad toward your door. You don’t think too hard as you knock. It takes a moment before he opens it. 

“I’m sorry,” he starts, already looking apologetic. “She—she won’t calm down. I’ve tried everything.”

“May I?” you ask, surprising even yourself.

He blinks at you, caught off guard. But when you extend your hands, he hesitates only a second before handing her over.

She’s warm and trembling, but you sway gently, instinctively, and hum something low under your breath. an old tune from a drama your mother used to love. Soojin’s cries hiccup, then soften. Within a minute, she’s quiet against your shoulder.

You glance up.

Seungcheol is staring at you like he’s witnessing a miracle.

“Uh—wha—how?”

You glance at him, one eyebrow raised as you continue to gently sway with Soojin nestled against your shoulder, her tiny fists tucked under her chin now. 

Seungcheol looks like someone just handed him the answer to a test he didn’t study for.

“I… I swear I tried everything,” he says, running a hand through his hair, which sticks out at odd angles like he’s been yanking at it all night. “Bottle, diaper, bouncing, singing—I even googled ‘is my baby possessed’ at one point.”

“That must’ve given you comforting results,” you say, adjusting your hold slightly as Soojin lets out a soft sigh. “Any luck with the holy water?”

“Didn’t get that far. I was about to throw salt at her, though.”

You laugh. You haven’t laughed like that in a while, and from the way his expression shifts, neither has he.

“Okay, but seriously,” he says, crossing his arms loosely over his chest as he leans against the doorway. “What did you do? Are you some kind of baby whisperer? Do you own a magic shoulder?”

“She probably just likes that I don’t smell like desperation and instant noodles,” you tease, nodding at the small mountain of convenience store trash on the kitchen counter behind him.

Seungcheol groans and presses his palms over his face. “That’s so valid. You’re right. I reek of ‘guy barely holding it together.’”

“You said it, not me.”

Soojin shifts in your arms but doesn’t wake. You lower yourself gently onto the couch, adjusting your hold.

Seungcheol watches, awe still etched into every line of his face. “She never calms down like that with me,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “She usually screams like I’ve offended her ancestors.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

You blink. Right. You’ve lived next door for months and this is your first real conversation. You tell him your name.

He repeats it, softly, like he’s testing the sound. “Well. I owe you. Like… a lot. If I had knees left I’d be bowing right now.”

“Save the bowing for when she starts teething,” you murmur, eyes on the baby now curled like a bean in your arms.

He laughs, and it’s warm and real, like it hasn’t been heard in his apartment for a long time.

“So,” he says after a moment, still watching you like he can’t quite believe it. “Do you do this for all your neighbors or am I just lucky?”

You glance at him over Soojin’s soft head. “Only the ones who google ‘possessed baby’ at 3 a.m.”

“Damn,” he grins. “That narrows it down.”

“She probably felt you freaking out,” you say, keeping your voice low so you don’t wake the now peacefully sleeping Soojin. “Babies are weirdly psychic like that. You panic, they panic harder. It’s like emotional Wi-Fi.”

Seungcheol squints at you. “You’re telling me this tiny human was mirroring my mental breakdown?”

You nod. “Pretty much.”

He drags a hand down his face. “Well, that makes me feel both seen and judged by someone who can't even sit up by herself.”

“She is very advanced,” you say with mock seriousness. “Clearly an empath.”

He huffs a soft laugh and flops into the armchair across from you, legs sprawled, head tilted back. “You have one too?”

You glance down at Soojin, then back at him. “A baby? No. I just like them. And—lucky me—they like me back.”

He lifts his head and raises a brow. “That’s not fair. I made her. She should like me.”

“Maybe she’s still bitter about the eviction from the womb.”

He lets out a half-laugh, half-groan, like he’s not sure whether to be offended or impressed. “I’m never going to win an argument in this house, am I?”

“Not with her from the looks of it”

He tilts his head, giving you a look that’s part amused, part grateful. “Seriously, though… thank you. I didn’t realize how close I was to completely losing it tonight.”

You shrug, glancing down at Soojin’s soft lashes against her cheeks. “It’s okay. Everyone has their limit. Even sleep-deprived single dads who try to summon baby-calming magic via YouTube.”

He groans again. “Ugh, please don’t remind me.”

“No promises.”

Seungcheol smiles—really smiles this time. “Well… if you ever want to visit your favorite fan again…”

You glance up at him. “Are you saying I have visitation rights?”

“With Soojin? Definitely. With me… maybe. I’m still evaluating.”

“Rude.”

“Fair.”

You don’t say anything at first. Just watch him watching her.

Then, softly, “She looks just like you.”

His eyes flick to you.

You nod, gentle. “Same nose. Same shape of her eyes when she squints. I saw it the moment you opened the door.”

Seungcheol huffs a quiet laugh, the sound laced with disbelief. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling down at Soojin. “It’s a good face to grow into.”

He exhales, some of that pressure inside him loosening, like you handed him a valve to let the fear out slow. He rubs the back of his neck, looks down at the floor, then at his daughter again.

“I’m scared all the time,” he admits. He doesn't know why he's telling you this but it's too late to stop, “Like—I love her so much it physically hurts, but I keep wondering if that’s enough. If loving her this much makes up for everything I can’t give her yet.”

“You’re here,” you say. “You’re trying. You’re sleep-deprived, semi-malnourished, and your apartment smells like baby wipes and cold coffee. But you’re here. That already makes you better than a lot of people.”

“Also,” you add, “she fell asleep in like, two minutes. I’m pretty sure that means she’s happy and safe. Or she’s secretly plotting. Either way, you’re doing okay.”

“Thanks,” he says. “For everything tonight.”

You shrug one shoulder. “What are neighbors for, right?”

=

A knock at your door isn't unusual. Packages, random hallway noise, maybe the building ajumma making her rounds with gossip and kimchi. But this one is too soft to be a delivery guy and too polite to be a kid. You pause your Netflix episode and head over, peeking through the peephole.

It’s Seungcheol.

You open the door and he’s standing there in jeans, a hoodie zipped halfway up, one strap of Soojin’s diaper bag slipping off his shoulder. He looks a little frazzled, hair tousled like he ran his hand through it too many times.

“Hey,” he says, a little breathless. “Sorry, are you busy?”

You glance behind him. Soojin is in his arms, blinking like she just woke up from a nap and hasn’t decided whether the world deserves her attention yet.

“Not really,” you say, brows raised. “Everything okay?”

He nods, shifting Soojin to his other arm. “Yeah—yeah, I just—look, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really quick, but I have to run down to the ward office to drop off some paperwork. It’s boring, annoying, and they hate when babies scream through it.”

You smirk. “So you’re abandoning your child to avoid judgement.”

“Exactly,” he deadpans. “And you’re the only person she doesn’t seem to think is a demon in disguise.”

You hold out your hands automatically, and he hesitates just long enough to look guilty before gently placing Soojin in your arms. She blinks up at you like, Oh, it’s you. Okay, this is fine, then promptly grabs a fistful of your shirt.

“I’ll be gone maybe thirty, forty minutes tops,” he says, already half-turning like he doesn’t trust himself not to second-guess this. “I swear, if she cries, I owe you—like—coffee for a month. Or five years. Whatever’s fair.”

“She’ll be fine,” you assure him, bouncing her a little as she starts to hum her sleepy protest song. “Go do your boring adult things. We’ll be here, judging your outfit.”

He looks down at himself, frowns. “What’s wrong with my hoodie?”

“It’s giving ‘college sophomore in finals week.’”

He looks personally wounded. “Wow. Harsh from someone wearing pajama pants.”

“Bold of you to assume these are pajamas and not my formal lounging attire.”

He grins, then presses his palms together in a dramatic bow. “Gamsahamnida. You are a lifesaver.”

“Go, Seungcheol,” you say with mock severity, like you're kicking him out of your own house. “Before I charge you babysitting rates.”

“Noted,” he says, already backing down the hallway. “If she starts crying, play her that weird folk song you hummed the other night. She apparently likes that.”

You snort. “It’s not weird. It’s vintage. Now go.”

He disappears down the hallway, mumbling something about government forms and how adulthood is a scam. You close the door, look down at Soojin.

About an hour after Seungcheol left, someone knocked on your door again.

“She’s out,” you said.

Seungcheol blinks “Out?”

“Like a light,” you said, stepping aside to let him in. “Didn’t even fight it. Just conked out mid-conversation with her carrot.”

He entered cautiously, peering over at the couch where Soojin lay snoozing like an angel, one sock halfway off her foot. His whole body went still for a second, like even his breathing slowed down.

“No way,” he muttered. “She never naps this easily. I have to do a whole routine. Like, bouncing, swaying, bribery, gentle pleading—”

You held up a hand. “To be fair, I did sing her an exclusive remix of ‘Arirang’ with some freestyle humming in between. It was Grammy-worthy.”

Seungcheol leaned down slightly, adjusting Soojin’s sock with that instinctive tenderness he probably didn’t even notice he had anymore. 

“You’re doing okay, you know,” you said quietly.

He looked at you, startled.

“I mean it,” you added. “You always look like you’re bracing for a storm, but… she’s happy. You’re doing okay.”

He swallowed, his throat bobbing. “I never know if I am.”

“You are.”

He nodded slowly, then straightened up, brushing a hand through his hair. “Okay. Um. Thank you. Really. I owe you, like… a year’s supply of coffee or something.”

You grinned. “How about you start with dinner next time?”

He paused. Not in surprise but like he was waiting to make sure you really said what he thought you said.

“Dinner?” he repeated.

You leaned against the doorframe, casual. “Yeah. You bring the baby, I’ll bring dessert. Seems fair.”

“Deal,” he said.

“Why don’t we let her sleep?” you say, voice soft. “You want coffee?”

His head snaps toward you like you just offered him oxygen. “God, yes.”

You stifle a laugh. “Come on.”

You move to the kitchen and start pulling mugs from the shelf. Behind you, he hovers awkwardly for a second before cautiously lowering himself onto one of the kitchen chairs like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to sit down in someone else’s life yet.

You hand him a mug, fingers brushing his. “Cream and sugar?”

He stares at you for a second too long.

“Huh? Oh—yeah. Just a little.”

You smirk as you fix it the way he asked, then slide it across the counter. “Look at you. Saying ‘just a little’ like you didn’t pour half the sugar jar into your coffee the other morning.”

He narrows his eyes over the rim of the mug. “I was sleep-deprived. I needed moral support in powdered form.”

You sit across from him with your own cup, resting your chin in your palm. “And here I thought you were this composed, competent, remote-working professional.”

He scoffs. “I am composed and competent. Most of the time. Except before 8 a.m. Or when Soojin decides sleep is for the weak.”

“So… most days,” you tease.

He shakes his head, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. One that doesn’t look so tired now. You sip your coffee and let the quiet stretch a little, comfortable and warm.

“Thanks again,” he says after a moment. “For today. For—whatever magic you’ve got going on. I still don’t get it.”

You shrug. “She’s easy to love.”

There’s something in his face that flickers at that. like he’s trying not to show how much those words hit. His thumb taps against the side of the mug.

“She really is,” he says. “But… sometimes I forget that it’s okay to enjoy it. I’m so busy trying to keep up with everything, I think I forget to stop and—feel it.”

You lean back slightly, studying him. “Well. You’ve got backup now. Whether you want it or not.”

He settles more into the chair, like your words gave him permission to breathe a little deeper. The mug cradled in his hands, still warm, anchors him in the moment.

You glance toward the living room, then back at him. “You always wanted to be a dad?”

He hums, considering. “Yeah. I think so. Not like—I didn’t grow up dreaming of diaper bags and formula,” he says with a faint smile, “but… I always liked the idea. Being someone’s safe place.”

Your heart stirs a little at that. You hadn’t expected such a soft answer.

“And now that you are?” you ask, gently.

He exhales a laugh, tilting his head. “It’s like I got dropped in the middle of the ocean with floaties and a smile and they were like, ‘Good luck!’” He pauses, then adds, “But then she looks at me like I’m her entire world and suddenly I don’t mind drowning a little.”

You smile into your mug. “That’s… weirdly poetic for someone who wears socks with mismatched cartoon characters.”

He looks scandalized. “You noticed that?”

“Hard not to when you wore Pororo and Iron Man.”

“Okay, but hear me out. Laundry day.”

“Sure,” you nod solemnly. “Blame the system.”

“What about you?” he asks after a moment. “No kids of your own, but you’re, like, terrifyingly good at it.”

You shrug, swirling your coffee. “I’ve always liked being around them. Babysat a lot. Volunteered at a daycare during uni. There’s something honest about babies, you know? They don’t pretend. If they like you, they like you. If they don’t, you know immediately.”

He grins. “So what you’re saying is, Soojin’s got good taste.”

“Exceptionally,” you deadpan. “Especially considering her father pairs Iron Man with penguins.”

You both laugh again, soft and low so you don’t wake the sleeping queen in the next room. 

“You know,” he says, almost shy, “I didn’t expect any of this. The neighbor thing. You, being... kind.”

You quirk a brow. “Kind? Is that what we’re calling basic human decency now?”

He gives you a look. “It’s different. Most people don’t know what to do with single dads. They either pity you or overstep.”

You nod, thoughtful. “I’m not here to fix anything. I just... like her. And you’re not exactly awful either.”

He chuckles. “High praise.”

You finish your coffee and set the mug down with a soft clink. “Besides, I figure anyone who handles a teething crisis without crying deserves at least a neighbor who makes decent coffee.”

“This is decent?” he teases, lifting his mug. “That’s all I get?”

You smirk. “I’m keeping ‘great’ in my back pocket. You have to earn it.”

He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table, and smiles in that quiet, melting way he’s got. “Challenge accepted.”

=

It’s been a few days, but the rhythm is already familiar.

You’re coming home later than usual. Just as you hang up and juggle your keys, you hear it again. soft giggling, baby babble, and the unmistakable click of a stroller wheel bumping over the hallway tile.

You glance back and there they are. Seungcheol in a black cap and hoodie, pushing the stroller like he’s trying to look inconspicuous but failing because Soojin is loudly babbling and flapping her arms like she’s the mayor on parade.

“Caught you,” you say, smiling.

Seungcheol grins sheepishly. “We were trying to sneak back in.”

“Oh yeah? How’d that go for you?”

He peers down at Soojin, who grins up at you like she just told a great joke. “She’s terrible at stealth.”

Soojin kicks her feet in response and lets out a very enthusiastic raspberry.

He unlocks his door, gesturing you over. “You wanna come in? She’ll never forgive me if you don’t.”

You grin. “I could be convinced.”

A few minutes later, your groceries are in the fridge, and you’re sitting on his living room floor, legs crossed, feeding Soojin tiny bits of cut-up apple. She’s babbling nonsense and trying to grab the bowl, grinning like this is the best part of her day.

Seungcheol leans against the counter, arms crossed, just watching.

“She’s been in a mood lately,” he says. “But you walk in, and she turns into a cartoon sunflower.”

You glance over your shoulder. “She just knows good vibes.”

He smiles quietly. “You’ve got this… thing. With her. I don’t even know what to call it.”

“Charm,” you say matter-of-factly.

He snorts. “Dangerous charm.”

Seungcheol walks over, drops to the floor beside you, close enough that your knees brush. You both look down at Soojin, who is now focused on trying to fit her whole fist in her mouth.

“I never thought…” he starts, then stops, fidgeting with a baby spoon. “I mean, before she was born, I didn’t know if I’d be doing this alone. I had no idea how to be good at it and I’m still scared. All the time. Like if I mess up once, it’s over. For both of us.”

You reach out, brush your fingers gently against Soojin’s soft little hand.

“She’s happy,” you say. “She’s healthy. She feels loved. That means you’re already doing the most important part right.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “Not just for this. For… showing up. For her. For me.”

You hold his gaze for a beat. “You don’t have to thank me. I like being here.”

He lets out a breath. “Yeah. Me too.”

He watches Soojin for a while, her small hands grasping at the last apple slice like it’s a national treasure. There’s a little silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. Just soft, shared air.

Then, without you asking, his voice comes low, careful.

“Her mom… left after she was born.”

You don’t move. You just listen.

“She—uh, she told me she wasn’t ready. For any of it. And I guess I knew. Deep down. We were already drifting, and then the pregnancy—it just pushed everything to the surface.”

He looks down at his hands, thumb rubbing at a small mark on his knee.

“I tried to hold things together for a while. Bought the crib. Took the classes. Thought maybe if I showed her I could do it, she’d change her mind. But after Soojin was born… it was just me.”

You feel something tighten in your chest.

“I signed the papers. Named her. She wasn’t even there. No message. No goodbye.” He pauses, blinking a little too fast. “And I didn’t know if I was angry or just… numb.”

He exhales slowly, the sound more of a release than a sigh.

“It’s weird. People always say they can’t imagine doing it alone. But you don’t really get the choice. You just… do it. You wake up. You feed her. You change her. You learn what each cry means. You hold her even when you’re falling apart. And the worst part is that sometimes I wonder if I’m enough. If one parent can really make up for the absence of another. If she’s gonna grow up and ask where her mom is and… and I’ll have to tell her.”

You reach over without thinking and gently lay your hand on his. He flinches slightly, not because he’s startled—but because it’s been a long time since someone touched him like that. Quietly. Kindly.

“You are enough,” you say, voice steady but soft. “She doesn’t need perfect. She needs you. And she’s got you.”

His eyes meet yours. There’s a shine there he doesn’t bother to hide this time.

Soojin lets out a tiny burp and promptly faceplants into her own lap, startling herself into a squeaky hiccup. You both look at her, then at each other—and laugh.

And just like that, the heaviness lifts. Not completely. But enough.

Enough to let the warmth back in.

Seungcheol leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His voice, when he speaks again, is quieter than before. Like he’s afraid saying it too loud might make it more real.

“I just don’t want her to grow up thinking she wasn’t wanted.”

You look at him, and something in your chest aches. He’s not just talking about Soojin now. He’s talking about himself too. About the fear that all his love won’t be enough to drown out the silence someone else left behind.

“She won’t,” you say softly, certain. “Not with you. Not with the way you look at her like she’s your whole world. Not with the way you know the exact rhythm that calms her down. Or the way you whisper to her when you think no one’s listening.”

He gives you a shaky little smile, eyes shining, jaw tight like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“She’ll know she was wanted,” you say again, firmer now. “Because you show her. Every single day.”

He nods slowly, like he's trying to believe you. Trying to let that truth settle somewhere in the spaces guilt has lived too long.

“When she was a newborn, she hated the crib. I used to hold her all the time even when my arms ached, her little cries broke me. It still does”

You smile, imagining a newborn Soojin and a sleep deprived Seungcheol, “Yeah well cribs don’t have a heartbeat, yours probably calmed her down”

And that statement stirs something in him. Seungcheol turns to you, something breaking open in his expression. Not sadness, exactly. Just… gratitude. Raw and unguarded.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You squeeze his hand gently. “Anytime.”

=

It’s a slow, golden Saturday. You’ve got no plans today no errands, no calls, no responsibilities. Just you, your comfy clothes, and the peace of a rare free weekend. Meanwhile, right next door, Seungcheol is pacing his living room barefoot in a plain tee and gray joggers, Soojin perched in her bouncer like a tiny queen on a throne. 

He stops mid-pace, turns to her.

“Okay. Hear me out,” he says, pointing a spoon in her general direction. “We should go ask her.”

Soojin gurgles and kicks one leg.

“But like—not in a weird way,” he adds quickly, eyes wide like he’s already spiraling. “Just casually. Like, ‘Hey, what’s up, you doing anything? Wanna hang out with this delightful six-month-old and her semi-stressed dad?’ Totally normal.”

Soojin lets out a fart noise with her mouth and slaps the penguin.

“Exactly. See, you get it.”

He rubs the back of his neck and glances toward the door.

“But what if she’s got plans?” he mutters. “Like… what if she’s one of those mysterious types who secretly has a jam-packed social calendar. What if she’s got a date. A tall, charming, emotionally available—ugh. No, nope, not thinking about that.”

He turns back to Soojin, hands on hips.

“Okay, but what if she’s just chilling in there with snacks and no idea what to do with her Saturday? What if she wants someone to knock?”

Soojin makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a cough-sneeze-laugh hybrid and flings her penguin across the room.

“That’s a yes?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

She kicks both feet at once and squeals.

Seungcheol sighs dramatically. “Fine. If this crashes and burns, you’re going to daycare on Monday in mismatched socks out of spite.”

He walks to the mirror, runs a hand through his hair, then turns to Soojin. “Do I look casual? Like, ‘Hey, I just came over on instinct and not because I’ve been rehearsing what to say for the past fifteen minutes’ casual?”

Soojin lets out a loud raspberry, very pleased with herself.

He points at her. “Don’t sass me. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Finally, he scoops her up—socks and all—grabs a burp cloth (because he’s not a total amateur), and heads for the door.

“I swear, if she’s got company over and I walk in holding you like a prop, we’re moving apartments.”

Soojin gnaws on his collar, utterly unfazed. He sighs, shifts her in his arms, and knocks. Twice. Light. Hesitant.

Then waits.

And you, from the other side, put your book down, already smiling because somehow, you knew it would be them.

Seungcheol is standing there, Soojin on his hip with one sock off and the other one half-on, clinging to his collar like she owns the place. 

“Hey,” he says. Voice a touch too casual. “We were just… y’know. Wondering if you were around.”

“I am around,” you say, stepping aside. “And I see I’ve been summoned by royalty.”

“She insisted,” Seungcheol says, shifting her with a grin. “Practically bullied me into coming over.”

You raise a brow. “Ah. So this was her idea, huh?”

“Yeah. She’s the boss. I’m just the driver.”

Soojin lets out a burble and grabs your sleeve with sticky fingers like she’s making a legal claim.

“Well,” you say, gently taking her from his arms, “I’m honored to be chosen by her highness.”

You cradle her easily, bouncing her on your hip. “She smells like she’s recently made some… decisions,” you add, scrunching your nose playfully.

Seungcheol’s eyes go wide. “Oh no, did she—? Wait, really?”

You laugh. “Relax, she’s clean. I’m just messing with you.”

He exhales, clearly relieved. “Okay. Good. Because I forgot to bring the emergency diaper and I was not about to make a dramatic exit.”

You nod solemnly. “Wise. Nothing ruins a cool entrance like a diaper blowout.”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway… I was just thinking, if you’re not busy today, maybe we could hang out? Or just… sit around and pretend we’re doing something productive?”

You smirk. “That sounds like exactly what I had planned.”

You motion toward your living room. “Come in. She can help me finish this coffee I forgot about an hour ago, and you can tell me what you’ve been pacing about for the last thirty minutes.”

He steps inside, mock offended. “Okay, how did you know I was pacing?”

You grin. “I didn’t but now I do”

A little while later, after Soojin had taken a tour of every object on your coffee table and spent a solid five minutes drooling purposefully on your shoulder, Seungcheol stands up with a stretch.

“I should probably grab her stuff—she’s gonna get hungry soon, and I didn’t bring anything except a bib and blind optimism.”

You snort. “Go. We’ll hold down the fort.”

He’s only gone for maybe five minutes before he reappears, slightly out of breath, carrying a small insulated bag and what looks like a pink spoon in his mouth.

“Sorry,” he mumbles around the spoon before pulling it free. “She has this weird sixth sense about when I try to move fast and immediately decides to throw a crisis.”

You take the bag from him as he plops onto your floor with a sigh, Soojin perking up at the sound of the zipper being undone like she knows exactly what’s coming.

Seungcheol pulls out a small container of baby food and holds it up like it’s radioactive. “Just a warning. She hates this. Like, we’ve had full negotiations over a spoonful of this stuff.”

You laugh, settling on the rug with Soojin in front of you. “What is it?”

“Sweet potato banana something? It smells… unsettling.”

He hands you the spoon and the little jar like he’s surrendering it. “She usually swats it away. Or looks at me like I’ve betrayed her.”

You scoop a small amount onto the spoon, raising an eyebrow at Soojin. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got, tiny critic.”

She blinks at you, eyes curious. You gently offer the spoon—and without hesitation, she opens her mouth and eats it. Chews. Swallows. And then opens her mouth again.

You glance at Seungcheol. “Um. That didn’t seem like a struggle.”

He looks absolutely gobsmacked. “What—wait—she ate it? Just like that?”

You nod, offering her another spoonful. She chomps happily.

Seungcheol stares, eyes wide. “Are you some kind of baby whisperer? What is going on?”

You shrug, trying not to laugh. “Maybe I just have really good snack energy.”

Seungcheol leans back against your couch, watching the scene like it’s defying all natural laws. “I swear, when I try, it’s like feeding a tiny, angry gremlin who knows martial arts.”

He watches you feed her another bite and he doesn't say anything at first but his face softens. Something gentle settles in his chest. And quietly, just to himself, he thinks, Maybe we needed her in our lives more than I realized.

Soojin is fully invested now—tiny mouth open, little hands waving in excited anticipation every time you bring the spoon near. At one point, she grabs at your wrist with surprising determination, trying to pull the food toward her faster, making a high-pitched whine that’s half-demand, half-excitement.

“She’s got a strong grip,” you laugh, letting her catch your fingers as you scoop up another bite. “She means business.”

He puts a hand dramatically over his heart. “Betrayed,” he says, deadpan. “By my own blood.”

“She didn’t even hesitate!” he says, sitting up straighter to look at Soojin like she’s done something treasonous. “All that effort I’ve put in—singing songs, dancing like a clown, inventing entire operas just to get her to eat half a spoon. And here she is, practically writing you a love letter for mashed bananas.”

Soojin responds by making a delighted little grunt and reaching for the spoon again with both fists.

You grin. “Don’t take it personally. Some of us just have snack-based chemistry.”

Seungcheol slumps theatrically against the couch. “This is how it starts. First the food. Then she’ll want you to read her bedtime stories. Then I’ll be voted off the island.”

You gently guide the spoon back into Soojin’s mouth, chuckling. “She’s just expanding her circle. You’re still the main character, Dad.”

“Barely,” he mutters, though there’s no real pout to it. He’s smiling—watching his daughter giggle and eat and look up at you like you hung the moon.

And yeah. He’s a little dramatic. But he’s also never been more relieved to be outshone.

It hits him. Not like a big, dramatic realization but like a slow, quiet bloom in the back of his mind, impossible to ignore. You laugh again, brushing a bit of puree off her chin, and Soojin squeals in response, delighted.

It’s almost daunting, how easy you are with her. How completely she adores you. How at home the two of you look like this.

And he tries—really tries—not to read too much into it.

But part of his brain… the part that’s been whispering louder every day lately… it won’t stop.

It’s saying: This is what it could look like. This is what it could feel like.

And it terrifies him.

Not because it’s bad but because it’s good. Because for the first time since Soojin was born, he’s seeing a picture he didn’t even let himself hope for.

A picture with someone in it.

Someone who isn’t just passing by in the hallway anymore. Someone who holds his daughter like she’s something precious. Someone who might be holding him too, in ways he hasn’t dared to admit.

You glance over your shoulder and catch him staring.

“Everything okay?” you ask, tone light.

He clears his throat, straightens a little too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, just… zoning out.”

You smile, not pressing. “Don’t worry. Happens to the best of us.”

You’re wiping Soojin’s hands with a wet tissue, cooing at her like you’ve got all the time in the world, even though she keeps squirming and trying to eat the wipe instead. You’ve got that calm, unbothered rhythm to your movements, like nothing this baby could do would surprise or overwhelm you. Like she’s yours.

You glance over. “You good?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah. Just thinking…”

Finally, he exhales. “The weather’s… really nice today.”

You nod slowly, smiling. “That it is.”

He looks at you a little longer, then finally goes, “Do you… wanna grab lunch? Like, out? I mean—if you don’t have plans. Which, if you do, that’s totally fine, I just thought it's too bad to waste a good day”

“I don’t have plans,” you interrupt gently, amused. “Lunch sounds good.”

“Yeah?” His eyes brighten a little.

“Yeah,” you say again, bouncing Soojin a bit. “And I think our third wheel here is already dressed for the occasion.”

Soojin squeals like she agrees wholeheartedly, flapping her arms and narrowly missing your chin.

A few minutes later, you’re all out the door. The spring air feels fresh on your face, the streets buzzing with quiet weekend energy. You walk side by side, Soojin tucked against Seungcheol in her little carrier, her head bobbing gently as he walks. 

Every now and then she lets out a content sigh or babble, and he automatically adjusts the shade over her face, so used to moving with her now it’s like second nature.

And then he speaks, a little hesitant.

“I’m not, uh…” He clears his throat. “I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes, right?”

You glance at him, brows slightly lifted.

“No jealous boyfriend about to appear out of nowhere and beat me with a stroller or something?”

You burst out laughing. “Wow. That was oddly specific.”

“I’ve seen things,” he deadpans. “This is Seoul.”

You shake your head, still smiling. “No boyfriend. No jealous ex. No one waiting in the wings.”

He hums, eyes on the sidewalk ahead. “Okay. Just had to check.”

You glance at him again, slower this time. “Why? You nervous?”

“A little,” he admits, hand resting instinctively on Soojin’s back. “You… You’ve been really kind. And easy to talk to. And Soojin loves you, obviously. I didn’t want to assume anything. Or make you uncomfortable.”

You look ahead, thoughtful, before replying softly, “You didn’t assume anything. You asked.”

He meets your eyes then, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it that way. And maybe he didn’t know how much he needed to hear that.

The place Seungcheol picks is tucked on a quiet street corner—one of those old-school Korean restaurants with handwritten menu signs taped to the walls, it’s cozy, worn in a way that feels like a warm hug.

The owner, a sprightly woman in her late sixties with cropped hair and a floral apron, greets you all with a wide smile as you step in.

“Omo, what a cutie!” she says, eyes immediately landing on Soojin nestled in Seungcheol’s carrier. “Look at those cheeks. Aigoo, she’s a living doll!”

Soojin blinks at her, wide-eyed and curious, then lets out a delighted sound that has the woman absolutely beaming.

She waves you toward a table by the window, already reaching for menus. “Sit, sit! This one’s good with the sunlight for the baby.”

You thank her, and Seungcheol gently shifts Soojin out of the carrier and into his lap while you take the seat across from them. The owner returns with water and leans slightly closer, eyes dancing between the three of you. Then she claps her hands once.

“Aigoo—what a beautiful family.”

You pause mid-sip. Seungcheol blinks.

“Oh—uh—” he starts, fumbling a little.

“We’re not—” you add, just as quickly.

But the owner just waves you both off with a cheeky grin, already scribbling something on her notepad. “Ah, I see, I see,” she says, in the tone of someone who does not see but is choosing delusion. “No need to be shy. Young parents these days, so stylish. Such a pretty mama and a handsome papa. And this baby—so healthy!”

Soojin gurgles right on cue, smacking the table with glee. Seungcheol opens his mouth again, clearly gearing up to correct her.

But then you just smile and say, “Thank you.”

The owner beams. “I’ll bring you something nice, service. For the baby, okay? Don’t worry, it’s all soft. Very gentle for little tummies.”

And just like that, she disappears into the kitchen.

Seungcheol looks down at Soojin, who is currently grabbing for the side of his sleeve with one hand and trying to eat the air with her mouth slightly open.

He chuckles. “Well. That happened.”

You lean back. “She meant well.”

“Sure. Though now we’re officially a stylish young couple with a baby.”

“Hey, I’ll take ���stylish.’”

Then, quieter: “You handled that well.”

You smile, reaching across the table to nudge Soojin’s tiny hand. “I don’t mind being mistaken for your family.”

His eyes catch yours for a moment. And he doesn't say anything right away.

But the silence between you?

It feels like an answer he isn’t quite ready to say out loud.

The table fills slowly with food—banchan dishes placed with practiced ease, two bubbling pots of jjigae, warm bowls of rice. 

“She really thinks we’re a thing,” Seungcheol says under his breath, amused, as the woman disappears again behind the swinging kitchen door.

You lift your spoon and glance up. “You sound like you mind.”

He pauses, opens his mouth, closes it. “No,” he says after a second. “Not really.”

You nod, smile into your rice, and don’t push.

Soojin sits in her little portable chair between you, supported by pillows and mostly fascinated by a plastic spoon she’s been chewing on for ten straight minutes. Occasionally, she lets out a delighted squawk, causing you or Seungcheol to look over instinctively, like clockwork. He wipes her chin. You fix the corner of her bib. Neither of you comment on how easily it all flows.

“So,” you say between bites, “what does stylish dad do when he’s not being mistaken for my husband?”

Seungcheol chuckles. “Work. Meetings. More work. And then about sixteen loads of laundry.”

“Ah, a man of many hats.”

“Too many. I swear, I didn’t even own this many burp cloths before she was born. I don’t know where they come from. They multiply.”

You laugh, “Like gremlins?”

“Exactly. Feed them formula after midnight and bam twelve more burp cloths in the drawer.”

You both burst into quiet laughter while Soojin slaps the table enthusiastically, completely unaware of the comedy unfolding around her.

He doesn’t date. Hasn’t even thought about dating. He’s a single dad with enough on his plate to feed a small village. But sitting here, with you across the table and Soojin babbling between you like she belongs to both of you—it feels suspiciously close to something he used to want.

Something he wasn’t sure he’d get.

When lunch wraps up, the owner insists on taking a photo of “the beautiful family.”

You start to protest, but Seungcheol just laughs and waves you into the frame. You lean in beside him without hesitation, Soojin in his arms, her head flopping slightly against your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Click.

And just like that, there’s a photo of the three of you now.

Later, he won’t be able to stop looking at it.

=

You juggle your keys, your takeout bag, you hadn’t planned to stop by anywhere but the moment they handed you an extra set of banchan and grilled fish at the restaurant, something tugged at you.

Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was… him.

You pause in front of Seungcheol’s door, free hand raised to knock. You think you hear faint music something mellow, like a playlist for winding down.

You knock twice. Then the door opens.

Seungcheol blinks at you, hair slightly mussed like he’s run a hand through it more than once. 

“Hey,” you say, lifting the bag. “I accidentally ended up with enough food for two. Felt like a waste to eat alone.”

“She’s still with the sitter,” he says, stepping back to let you in. “I had some work I needed to wrap up tonight.”

“Oh,” you say, kicking off your shoes and stepping in. “So it’s just you?”

He smirks faintly. “Just me.”

“Well,” you grin, “lucky me.”

He lets out a soft, honest laugh at that and you both settle at his small dining table, where he quickly clears a stack of papers and a nearly empty coffee mug to make room.

You open the containers and start unpacking, setting up the rice, the kimchi, the fish, the spicy radish.

“You didn’t have to,” he says.

“I wanted to.” You glance up at him. 

He watches you move the plates around like it’s your table too—like this isn’t the first time. Like it won’t be the last. The food steams gently between you, the air filling with the familiar comfort of grilled sesame and garlic.

You glance at him. “You okay? You look like you’ve been thinking too much again.”

He leans back slightly in his chair. “Yeah. I just…” He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s quiet without her. That’s all.”

“Lonely kind of quiet?” you ask, soft.

He nods slowly. “Yeah. That kind.”

You don’t say anything for a moment. You just pick up your chopsticks and slide one of the containers closer to him.

“Well,” you say gently, “for tonight, you don’t have to eat in the quiet.”

He looks at you like you’ve said something bigger than what you meant—something that echoes a little too close to a wish he hadn’t allowed himself to name yet.

But instead of running from it, he says, “Then stay a while?”

You nod. “I’d like that.”

And as the night eases in around you both, laughter slipping through conversations, the space between you doesn’t feel quite so quiet anymore.

The food dwindles slowly, not because you’re eating slow but because the conversation keeps veering—sideways, up, spiraling through nonsense. 

You learn that Seungcheol is deeply opinionated about how jjigae should be spiced, and that he once accidentally deleted an entire quarterly report because Soojin spit up on his keyboard mid-call.

You nearly choke on rice at that one.

“She projectiled,” he says, completely deadpan, “like something out of an exorcism.”

“Why do I feel like you weren’t this funny when we passed in the hallway before?” you tease.

“Because I wasn’t,” he admits, sheepishly. “I think I was trying not to fall asleep standing up.”

It’s adorable, the way he trips over his own words. Like he’s still not used to speaking freely, like he’s trying to find a version of himself that doesn’t second-guess everything he says around you.

You pretend not to notice his ears tint pink.

Eventually, when the table’s cluttered with empty containers and chopsticks, you help him clean up. He tries to wave you off—“You’re the guest, you don’t have to—”

“I’m not leaving you with this war zone.”

Somehow it turns into a dance of bumping elbows and nearly dropping the dish soap. He’s holding a wet bowl when your hand accidentally brushes his under the faucet.

He freezes. Just a second. But you catch it.

“I don’t bite,” you murmur with a teasing smile.

“Y-yeah,” he says, eyes flicking away like the faucet is suddenly fascinating. “I know.”

When the last bowl is drying on the rack, you both end up just… standing there. Side by side. Not saying much.

He glances at the clock. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” you say, but you don’t move right away.

He shifts his weight, rubs the back of his neck again. “Thanks. For coming over. For the food. And just… being around.”

You look up at him, eyebrows raised in gentle teasing. “Why do you always sound like you’re giving an acceptance speech when you say nice things?”

“I—” He laughs, low and helpless. “I’m rusty, okay? I haven’t had adult conversations that didn’t involve pacifiers in like, months.”

You smile. “You’re doing fine.”

You step out into the hallway, then turn, glancing at him again.

“You know,” you say, “if you’re free tomorrow… you could come over for dinner. Just you. I mean unless you’ll miss the spit-up too much.”

That earns a real laugh. A shy, surprised one.

“I’ll try to survive,” he says, his hand braced against the doorframe, like he’s not sure if he should lean in or keep his distance.

You grin, backing away. “Then it’s a date.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, is it—?”

But the door’s already closing behind you. He stands there for a good thirty seconds, blinking at the wood grain.

“…A date?” he mutters to himself.

Then smiles, just a little.

Definitely doomed.

The next day Seungcheol adjusts Soojin’s little headband as they walk up to the sitter’s door, her soft babbling filling the air between them.

“Okay, I know we’ve been over this,” he says, one arm holding her close, the other fumbling for the doorbell, “but let me just say for the record—she was the one who said this is a date”

Soojin blows a raspberry.

“Exactly,” he nods. “You get it.”

“It’s just dinner. Two adults. Eating. No pressure. Just… food. With a neighbor. Who laughs at my jokes. And smells really nice. And always has that soft, glowy thing going on with you that kind of makes my brain forget how breathing works sometimes.”

Soojin lets out a coo and smacks her tiny hand on his chest.

“I know,” he sighs. “I sound like an idiot. You don’t have to rub it in.”

The door opens and the sitter beams, reaching for Soojin with practiced ease. She goes willingly—of course she does—and Seungcheol hesitates for half a second before letting go.

“Be good, okay?” he tells her, brushing a kiss to her temple. “And if I don’t make it back, tell her it was the grilled mackerel that got me.”

The sitter chuckles. “You’re being dramatic again, Mr. Choi.”

But even as he walks away, trying to play it cool, he’s hyperaware of everything.

He groans softly. “I should’ve brought Soojin. She’s a good buffer.”

But it’s too late now. 

He adjusts his collar one last time. Then knocks. This time, he's the one holding his breath.

You open the door with that familiar easy smile. Your hair’s tied back in that half-messy way that makes you look both totally relaxed and somehow unfairly gorgeous. 

Seungcheol forgets what planet he’s on for a second.

“Hey,” you say, stepping aside to let him in. “You’re just in time. I was about to taste test and pretend I knew what I was doing.”

He walks in like a man trying not to trip over his own shoelaces. “You cook and downplay your skills? What don’t you do?”

You raise a brow as you shut the door behind him. “Flatter people at the door like a drama lead.”

He clears his throat and tries to sound normal. “So… Soojin said she’d cover for me if I don’t survive this.”

“Oh yeah?” You glance over your shoulder. “And what does survival entail exactly? You afraid I’m gonna poison you?”

“No, I’m afraid I’ll like it too much and then embarrass myself asking for seconds before the rice is even done.”

You snort. “Wow. That’s dramatic.”

“I know. I was practicing in the mirror earlier.”

You pause at that, turn to face him, spoon still in hand. “Wait, what?”

He freezes. Blinks. Regrets everything.

“I mean—not seriously, I wasn’t like—practicing lines or anything. I just—I was…” He trails off and finally throws his hands in the air with a sheepish laugh. “You know what? Yeah. Mirror. Full speech. There was pacing involved. It wasn’t my finest hour.”

You break into a laugh that makes him feel like he just passed some kind of secret test. “Well, now I have to impress you. I can’t let that rehearsal go to waste.”

He watches you lift the lid off a pot, steam rising in fragrant clouds, and swears the apartment smells like something from his childhood—warm, familiar, comforting.

“You okay?” you ask, looking at him again, voice softer now.

“Yeah,” he says, hands shoved in his pockets, that same shy smile tugging at his lips. “This is… nice.”

You tilt your head. “It’s just dinner.”

You turn back to the stove, giving the stew one last stir, but your smile doesn’t fade and Seungcheol sees it. He sees how the corner of your mouth twitches like you’re trying not to grin. Like maybe he’s not the only one feeling this.

“You want to try it?” you ask, ladling a bit into a small bowl. “I need an honest review.”

“Sure, but if I say it’s good, you’ll think I’m just trying to impress you.”

“You are trying to impress me,” you say without missing a beat.

He freezes halfway to the bowl and laughs, quietly. “Wow. Okay. You’re terrifying.”

You hand him a spoon. “Eat, coward.”

He takes the spoon, eyes still on you as he tries it. Then closes his eyes. Groans. “Okay. Okay, see—now I can’t be cool about this. This is actual comfort food. Like, soul-restoring, existential-clarity food.”

You raise a brow. “Is this the speech you practiced in the mirror?”

He points the spoon at you. “You wish it was this polished.”

You both laugh again, that easy rhythm building between you like it’s always been there, waiting.

As you finish prepping, he helps without asking. Dinner is soft and familiar. Seungcheol tells you about the time Soojin tried to eat a remote control with the most serious face he’s ever seen. 

When everything’s finally done and the dishes are stacked neatly in the sink, you both end up on the couch without really saying anything about it. You sit with your legs tucked under you. He leans back, elbows on his knees. Close. Not too close.

“I had fun,” you say first, voice quiet now, softer under the buzz of the kitchen light.

He nods. “Me too.”

Then a pause. Not awkward. Not rushed. He turns his head toward you slowly, like even this moment is something he doesn’t want to break by moving too fast.

“I wasn’t really expecting tonight to feel like this,” he admits.

You look over. “Like what?”

He shrugs, but his voice is warm. “Like the part of the day I didn’t know I was waiting for.”

“You’re kind of a softie, huh?”

He groans and drops his head into his hands. “Don’t call me out like this.”

You laugh. “Too late.”

And when he lifts his head again, there’s color on his cheeks, that same bashful smile tugging at his lips—but this time, it stays. For a while, you don’t talk. You just sit. Close. Quiet. Like neither of you is quite ready for the night to end.

“So… uh,” he starts, clearing his throat once, then twice. “Soojin and I… we’re—uh—we were gonna go to the aquarium. This weekend.”

You raise your brows, curious. “Yeah?”

He nods. Doesn’t look at you. Just at his sleeve. “Yeah. Just… thought it’d be good. For her. Well—for me too. Kind of our first, like, out-out trip, y’know? Outside the baby bag radius.”

You smile, head tilting. “That’s really cute.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. Yeah. So…”

He trails off. You wait. Then he blurts it all in one go: “If you wanted to come too I mean I thought maybe you’d like it but it’s totally fine if you’re busy or if you hate fish or—”

“Seungcheol.”

He stops. Freezes like he’s been caught in a lie. You’re smiling again. That calm, steady kind that says you’ve got all the time in the world to wait out his nervous spiral.

You lean forward slightly. “I’d love to come.”

His eyes snap up to yours, wide like he wasn’t expecting that answer to be real.

“Yeah?” he says, voice too hopeful, too soft.

“Yeah,” you say, easy. “I mean, how could I say no to Soojin? She’s clearly the boss.”

He laughs, the tension finally breaking a little in his shoulders. “She is. Completely. I’ve accepted it.”

“Good,” you grin. “So… Saturday?”

“Yeah. Saturday.” He looks like he’s mentally adding that to five different lists. “Cool. Cool, cool cool…”

You squint. “You’re going to overthink this the whole week, aren’t you?”

“Only absolutely,” he says without missing a beat.

But he’s smiling. Really smiling now. And for the first time in a long while, it feels like things might actually be moving toward something better than just figuring it out day by day.

Saturday comes. You're locking your door when you hear the soft wheels of a stroller squeaking down the hallway. You turn just in time to see Seungcheol pushing Soojin toward you. Her little legs are kicking excitedly, hands flailing the second she sees you.

“She’s been doing that since we left the apartment,” Seungcheol says, breathless like he jogged here, “which is either a good sign or she thinks you have snacks again.”

You laugh, crouching to greet her. “Hi, boss lady. Ready for some fishy business?”

Soojin squeals like she understood every word.

Seungcheol grins at the both of you, adjusting the strap on the diaper bag. 

“You look nice,” you say as you stand.

He straightens. “Thanks. You too.”

Then he immediately adds, “I mean, you always do, but—uh—not that I’ve been paying attention like in a weird way, just—you know, normal neighbor-level noticing.”

You snort and start walking. “You rehearsed this too?”

“Absolutely,” he mutters.

The ride is full of soft Soojin giggles and your laughter overlapping with his quiet commentary. She grabs your fingers like they belong to her now, and when Seungcheol tries to reclaim her attention with a pacifier, she practically bats it away in protest.

By the time you get to the aquarium, it’s late morning and the crowds are still manageable. The moment you step inside Soojin goes completely still in her stroller as the first tank glows to life with swirls of orange fish. Her mouth falls open.

“Oh no,” Seungcheol whispers. “She’s about to have a spiritual awakening.”

The two of you take turns pushing the stroller, stopping often so Soojin can smack her little hands against the glass. At one point, a stingray glides by, and she lets out a tiny gasp so dramatic that a passing toddler actually applauds.

Seungcheol leans down next to her. “That’s right, baby girl. Get your nature documentary moment.”

You can’t stop laughing. “She needs her own voiceover.”

He shrugs, then adopts a deep narrator voice. “Here, the wild Soojin discovers her first sea cucumber. She is—”

“Absolutely unimpressed,” you finish, pointing at Soojin’s deadpan expression.

Lunch is simple convenience store kimbap on a bench outside, the stroller parked beside you, Soojin chewing on a toy like it wronged her in a past life. Seungcheol offers you half of his triangle kimbap without a second thought. You don’t even hesitate to take it.

“This was really nice,” you say after a moment. “I mean it. Thanks for inviting me.”

He glances at you, then at Soojin, then quickly away again. “Yeah. I—uh. I’m glad you came.”

After lunch, with the sun warm and steady above, you glance down at Soojin in her stroller. She’s got her tiny fists outstretched like she’s summoning someone, and that someone is clearly you.

You kneel beside her with a soft smile. “You wanna see the fish up close, huh?”

She squeals, arms waving dramatically now, little feet kicking like this is the most urgent request in the world.

Seungcheol stands nearby, halfway through packing up the leftover wrappers into a bag. “You don’t have to, she gets heavy—”

You’re already scooping her up, one arm cradled under her legs, the other behind her back like it’s second nature. “I think I can manage a very powerful six-month-old.”

Back inside, Soojin’s wide-eyed and alert, tiny hands reaching for the glass every time something colorful swims by. You walk slowly, giving her time at every tank, while Seungcheol trails beside you, hands occasionally brushing yours as you both lean in close to point something out to her.

The three of you moved deeper into the aquarium, into a quieter exhibit tucked in a corner where the lights were lower and the tanks stretched high like glass walls, casting slow, rippling reflections across the floor. 

You let out a quiet, awed, “Oh—look at that,” and without thinking, your hand reached out.

You grabbed his hand. The free one. Your fingers wrapped around his instinctively, tugging gently as you stepped closer to the tank, pointing upward toward the shimmering dance above you.

“Look how they move all at once—like they’re connected,” you said, voice soft.

It took a second. A full second before you realized your fingers were still around his. Still holding him. Still warm and unhurried. Your eyes flicked down—then up—to see him already looking at you, his face unreadable for a beat too long. Not surprised, exactly. Not alarmed.

Just still.

You opened your mouth to say something—maybe apologize, maybe pull away—but then he shifted his hand.

Not to let go.

His fingers curled around yours. Gentle, a little unsure, but steady. And when your gaze met his again, there was a quietness there. Something real. Something that settled between you both, subtle but unmistakable.

Soojin shifted slightly in his arms, murmuring a half-asleep sound, and he gave her a gentle bounce as his thumb brushed against the side of your hand.

Neither of you said anything more. Not because there was nothing to say, but because for the first time words didn’t seem necessary at all.

The next few days blurred into something soft.

It started with small things.

You’d stopped knocking when you came over. Seungcheol had said once, “Just come in,” and you had. 

One afternoon, you were helping fold laundry on his couch. Soojin was on the floor, busy gnawing on a teether, occasionally babbling up at you like she was chiming in. You tossed a baby sock at Seungcheol’s face. He caught it mid-air, mock-offended.

“That’s assault,” he said, tone flat but lips twitching.

“You missed a fold,” you replied, pointing at a tiny shirt he’d lazily half-folded.

“Why do baby clothes even need folding? They’re this big,” he said, holding up a onesie with both hands, then tossing it dramatically into the basket.

You laughed, and the sound made him glance over. You were grinning, hair falling a little into your face, and something about the sight made his heart do a slow, inconvenient flip.

You didn’t notice it Or maybe you did.

Another night, you both ended up cooking dinner together. His kitchen now seemingly half-stocked with things you liked. It wasn’t planned. You were there, Soojin was asleep early, and somehow your hands were brushing while reaching for the same spice jar. Again.

He paused when your fingers touched. You didn’t move either.

Then you looked at him and said, softly, “You always hesitate.”

His brows lifted slightly. “Hesitate?”

You leaned in just a little, eyes steady. “Like when you’re about to say something but stop yourself.”

He went very still. Then looked away, mumbling, “I don’t wanna mess this up.”

You didn’t push. Just smiled, gentle. “You’re not.”

Later that night, you were on the couch again. Soojin had fallen asleep in your arms mid-bottle, and you didn’t want to move her, so Seungcheol had passed you a blanket, then sat beside you again without a word.

His arm brushed yours. You didn’t move away.

In fact, you leaned into it.

And he let his shoulder rest against yours, hesitant at first. Then, gradually, comfortably, as the silence stretched and the tension thickened like a thread being pulled tighter.

Neither of you spoke.

Because maybe that silence said everything.

Because maybe you both already knew.

The living room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the kitchen light left on behind you. Soojin was curled up against your chest, utterly knocked out, her soft breaths rising and falling with yours. 

Seungcheol was beside you, not quite touching but close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His hand was on the back of the couch, just behind your head, and every now and then, his knee would brush yours.

You chuckled quietly, so soft you felt it more than heard it.

He turned his head. “What?”

You looked at him, and your smile deepened, eyes amused. “You’re too easy to fluster.”

His lips parted like he had something to say but nothing came out. His brows lifted slightly, cheeks dusted pink in the low light.

“I am not,” he muttered, clearly flustered.

You let out another quiet laugh. “You so are.”

He shook his head, a hand running through his hair. “You’re the one who says things like that and then looks at me like… like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, tilting your head.

He groaned under his breath. “Like you’re not even trying to kill me but somehow you are.”

You paused.

And then, softer, your voice barely above a whisper, “You don’t know how my heart literally jumps when I see you.”

The words settled between you, unhurried, delicate but powerful.

Seungcheol’s eyes met yours.

There was a beat.

Then another.

He opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed. “You can’t just say stuff like that,” he said, voice low and uneven.

“I can’t?” you teased gently, lips twitching.

“Not when we’re like this,” he said, nodding slightly to Soojin nestled on your chest. “And it’s late. And you’re… here. And you say something like that.”

Eventually, you leaned your head back against the couch cushion, still holding Soojin close, and murmured, “Maybe it’s okay, though.”

Seungcheol turned to you slowly. “What is?”

You glanced at him. A tiny, knowing smile on your lips. “Letting it happen.”

The next morning, you found a coffee waiting for you outside your door. A simple sticky note pressed to the lid with his messy handwriting: 

Thought you might need this. You always look too good to be that tired. - SC

You grinned the whole time you drank it.

One evening, you were helping him put Soojin to bed, your voice low and soft as you read aloud from a worn picture book. Seungcheol leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, watching.

Later, in the kitchen, as the night settled into quiet again, you rinsed out Soojin’s bottle while he dried dishes beside you. Your shoulders brushed once. Then again.

And this time, he reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You paused, looked at him, caught that flash of hesitation in his eyes, like he still couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch you like that.

“You’re getting bold, Choi Seungcheol,” you teased gently.

His lips quirked. “Trying,” he admitted, cheeks pink. “Is it working?”

You set the bottle down, turned slightly to face him. “It’s cute,” you said, voice soft. “You’re cute.”

And just like that, the boldness flickered. His eyes widened a bit, and he ducked his head with a huff of embarrassed laughter. “Ah, don’t say it like that. I’m gonna combust.”

You stepped closer, your hand brushing his.

He didn’t pull away.

Instead, his fingers slipped between yours still a little shy, but deliberate now. Steady.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” you said, tilting your head. “You’re kind of the highlight of my day.”

He looked at you then. Really looked.

And smiled that slow, sincere smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Yeah?” he said softly.

“Yeah.”

You just looked at him, heart stuttering, and then leaned in without a word, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He blinked. The tips of his ears flushed red. “You—okay. That’s fine. Cool. Totally fine.”

“You’re flustered again,” you teased, grinning.

“You kissed me!”

“Not even on the mouth.”

“You kissed me,” he repeated, dazed but smiling.

And then, because it was him, he cleared his throat and offered his cheek again.

“…Just in case it was a fluke,” he muttered.

So you kissed him again longer this time. And he didn’t say a word after but his hand found yours, and he didn’t let go this time. You smiled, the kind of smile that crept all the way into your eyes and without a word, you stepped in and wrapped your arms around him.

You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and strong—but a little fast. Like yours.

“I’m not very good at this,” he murmured, voice low near your ear.

You hugged him tighter, your cheek resting against his collarbone. “You’re doing better than you think.”

His voice came quieter this time, barely above a whisper, “I really like you.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your smile still there, softer now. “I know.”

His brows lifted, surprised. “You do?”

You nodded. “I really like you too, you know.”

His mouth opened a little like he was ready to say something but then he just smiled. He leaned in, forehead pressing gently to yours. “I think I’m gonna keep falling for you,” he whispered.

“Good,” you whispered back.

=

The apartment was quiet again, warm in the late afternoon light filtering through the sheer curtains. 

Seungcheol was in the kitchen, rinsing out Soojin’s sippy cup and tossing a few snack wrappers into the bin. He didn’t even really need to clean, he just needed to do something because otherwise his heart might start sprinting again just from thinking about how easily you laughed earlier.

When he stepped out to check on you two, a dish towel still slung over his shoulder, he froze.

There you were.

Curled into the corner of the couch, Soojin nestled securely in your arms, her tiny hand fisted in your shirt, both of you deep in sleep.

Your head had tipped slightly to the side, mouth parted, hair a little tousled from the nap. Soojin was using you like a personal pillow, her cheek pressed to your chest, completely still except for the slow rise and fall of her breathing.

And just like that—like a switch flipping in his chest—Seungcheol knew.

It wasn’t a crush.  It wasn’t just appreciation. He wasn’t just touched that you loved his daughter.

He was in it. In deep.

There was something terrifying and sacred about the way the two people he cared about most looked so safe with each other. About how he didn’t want this to be a moment—he wanted it to be a life.

Eventually, he moved quietly, grabbing the folded blanket from the armrest and gently draping it over the two of you.

You stirred slightly, shifting, and your eyes fluttered halfway open. You looked up at him blearily, smile lazy and content.

“Hey,” you whispered, voice scratchy with sleep.

“Hey,” he said just as softly.

You didn’t even move to get up, just adjusted your arms around Soojin and let your eyes fall shut again, trusting him to take care of whatever needed doing.

Later that evening, Seungcheol stood just outside a convenience store, phone pressed to his ear, one hand buried in his coat pocket as he stared out at the quiet street. The light above him buzzed faintly, the sky overhead dimming into early night.

“Hyung?” came Jihoon’s voice on the other end. “You okay?”

“I need to drink,” Seungcheol said flatly.

There was a beat of silence.

“…Like, now?”

“Now,” he confirmed.

“Did something happen?” That was Soonyoung chiming in now, voice already laced with concern and that slightly chaotic energy Seungcheol expected.

“I left Soojin with the sitter. Just come meet me. That fried chicken place near the station.”

Another silence.

Then Wonwoo’s voice, casual but amused: “You sound like you’re about to confess to a crime.”

“I might as well have,” Seungcheol muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ten minutes later, the guys showed up, filing into the booth around him. Beers clinked onto the table. Chicken arrived. And then the staring started.

Seungcheol just slumped in the booth, arms crossed, beer untouched.

“…Okay, spill it,” Jihoon said. “You didn’t call us out here just to eat.”

Seungcheol looked at them, defeated. “I think I’m in love.”

Soonyoung nearly choked on a fry. “Wait—what?”

“With your neighbor?” Wonwoo asked, already grinning.

“She fell asleep on my couch holding Soojin like—like it was nothing. Like she’s always been there. Like we’re…” He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “I am so done.”

The table fell into chaotic laughter.

“I knew something was up!” Soonyoung exclaimed. “You’ve been all weird and fluttery for weeks!”

“I haven’t been fluttery,” Seungcheol mumbled.

“Bro, you giggled last time she texted you,” Jihoon deadpanned.

“Okay, maybe I giggled—”

“This is good, though, right?” Wonwoo leaned forward. “I mean… she’s great with Soojin. You like her. She likes you.”

“That’s the thing,” Seungcheol said, staring at the beer bottle. “It’s too easy. Too good. I keep waiting to mess it up. Or for her to realize I come with a lot more chaos than most people want.”

“But she already sees that,” Jihoon pointed out. “And she hasn’t gone anywhere.”

Seungcheol paused. Thought about you, smiling sleepily at him from his couch just hours ago.

“…Yeah,” he said quietly. “She hasn’t.”

“But like—what if it doesn’t work? I mean, she’s—she’s calm and smart and funny and actually sleeps more than three hours a night. And I’m over here talking to my ten-month-old about whether I’m embarrassing myself!”

“Didn’t you just say it was good?” Soonyoung blinked.

“I did, but that was ten minutes ago when I was delusional and riding the high of a nap scene from a drama,” Seungcheol groaned. “Now I’m thinking about the reality of it.”

He shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth like that would fix it, then talked around it.

“I mean, look at me. I’ve got formula in half my clothes, I haven’t gone on a proper date in more than a year, and my idea of romance is asking someone if they want to share baby wipes. That’s not attractive. That’s functional despair.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “Functional despair sounds like a great band name.”

“I’m being serious,” Seungcheol said, waving his chopsticks. “She deserves someone who’s not already drowning in dad mode. Someone who doesn’t have to pause kisses to check if the baby monitor blinked.”

“So don’t kiss near the baby monitor?” Jihoon offered unhelpfully, popping a fry in his mouth.

Seungcheol ignored him and ran a hand through his hair, “What if I fall harder and then she decides she can’t do this? Or worse, what if Soojin gets attached and then she leaves? That’ll wreck both of us.”

“Or,” Wonwoo said slowly, “she stays. Because she already cares. You’re kind of freaking out about something that hasn’t even started.”

“I’m pre-freaking,” Seungcheol corrected. “It’s like damage control but emotional.”

Soonyoung stared at him. “Do you even hear yourself?”

“Yes,” Seungcheol said dramatically. “And I don’t like it.”

“You’re so gone it’s almost poetic,” Jihoon muttered.

Seungcheol groaned and dropped his forehead to the table. “I hate how much I like her.”

And underneath all their laughter, the teasing and snark, none of them missed the truth in his voice.

Wonwoo leaned back, one eyebrow raised. “Do you though?”

Seungcheol lifted his head slowly, hair slightly flattened from where it had been pressed. “Do I what?”

“Hate how much you like her.”

Seungcheol sighed, finally leaning back in the booth. “No,” he muttered. “I don’t. That’s the problem.”

Jihoon smirked. “You poor sap.”

Soonyoung grinned. “Wait until she actually kisses you. Your brain’s going to short circuit.”

“If she kisses me,” Seungcheol stressed. “I’m still not even sure I’m not imagining half of this. What if I’m misreading things? What if she’s just naturally sweet and I’ve been out of the game so long I’m confusing basic kindness with affection?”

“Okay first of all,” Jihoon said, “you’re not imagining it. Remember when you said she called Soojin her girl once. Like, ‘where’s my girl?’ You don’t ‘my girl’ someone else’s baby unless you’re all in.”

“Exactly,” Wonwoo said, raising his glass. “You're not doomed. You're just deeply, ridiculously smitten. Congratulations.”

Seungcheol let out a breath, somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and picked up his beer.

“Yeah,” he said, staring at the glass. “I really, really am.”

He stood there, keys in hand, swaying just slightly not from alcohol, really, but from overthinking. The hallway was quiet, dim, the kind of silence that made every thought echo a little louder in his head.

His fingers hovered over your door, not quite ready to knock.

He sighed and leaned his shoulder against the frame, muttering to himself, “She’s probably asleep. Or busy. Or—”

Click.

The door swung open, and there you were, hair a little tousled like you'd just gotten comfortable, holding a half-full mug and blinking in surprise.

“Oh—hey,” you said, a little smile tugging at your lips. “Were you about to knock?”

Seungcheol froze like you’d caught him sneaking candy from a jar. “I—uh. Maybe. I wasn’t sure if—uh—hi.”

You leaned on the frame too, mirroring his posture. “Hi.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but your eyes. “I didn’t mean to be weird. I was just… standing. Near your door. For no suspicious reason.”

“Completely normal,” you deadpanned, but the soft laugh in your voice made his shoulders relax.

“I was with the guys,” he explained. “Had a drink. Nothing wild. No one danced on tables.”

“Disappointed in you, honestly,” you teased, stepping back slightly. “You wanna come in?”

He blinked. “Really?”

You tilted your head. “Well, you were already loitering. Might as well make it official.”

You glanced over your shoulder as you set your mug down on the table. “You good?”

He blinked, then cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Just… wasn’t expecting you to open the door right when I was about to have a full internal crisis.”

You smirked, settling onto the couch. “Timing’s always been my thing.”

“You ever feel like your brain’s just… racing ahead of everything else?”

You gave a soft laugh. “Constantly. That’s why I eat snacks in bed. Brings balance.”

He chuckled, head dropping for a second before he glanced at you. “I think I’m just…” He hesitated. “Scared.”

Your voice was quiet. “Of me?”

“No. God, no.” His answer came quickly, eyes wide. “Of… how easy it is. With you. And how fast that happened. It’s not bad. It’s just... surprising. And kind of terrifying.”

You leaned back, watching him gently, your voice softer now. “You don’t have to rush anything.”

He looked at you like that was the first thing he needed to hear all week.

“I know,” he said. “I just… I want to get it right. With you. With her.”

“You already are,” you said simply. “Even when you’re awkward and rambling.”

He groaned and flopped back against the couch. “Don’t remind me.”

You smiled, looking at him. “It’s charming.”

He turned his head toward you. His voice was quieter. “You think?”

You nodded. “I do.”

And maybe it was the way the room felt warm or how the night wrapped around the moment so gently but he looked at you for a long beat, his eyes a little softer, his heart a little louder. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to.

You didn’t say anything either. Just leaned over, slow and easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He went still for a moment when your head gently rested against his shoulder, but then you felt it the subtle shift of him relaxing, his shoulder settling just a little deeper into the couch so you’d be more comfortable. Like his body had made space without him thinking about it.

His arm lifted awkwardly at first, like he wasn’t sure where to put it, before it curved around your back, warm and tentative. You heard him breathe in, soft and shaky.

“This okay?” he asked quietly, the words brushing the top of your hair.

You nodded, your voice just as low. “Yeah.”

Silence fell again, but it wasn’t awkward this time. It was gentle. Companionable.

Eventually, he whispered, half-laughing under his breath, “This is really dangerous.”

You tilted your head slightly to look up at him. “Why?”

His eyes were on the ceiling, a crooked smile forming. “Because I could get used to this.”

You shifted just slightly so you could look up at him, your cheek still resting against his shoulder. “You know,” you said softly, “you’re allowed to feel things. To want things. You can be more than Soojin’s dad.”

His gaze dropped to you slowly, like the weight of your words took time to settle. His eyes searched your face, but he didn’t speak, not yet.

You reached up, brushing your fingers gently over the crease between his brows. “You’re still Seungcheol.”

And it wasn’t until right then that he realized how much he needed to hear that. How long he’d been carrying this version of himself, carefully trimmed down to the essentials: provider, protector, father. As if there wasn’t space for anything more. As if it was selfish to even hope for it.

But here you were. Not asking for anything. Not expecting him to be perfect. Just… seeing him.

“I forgot,” he said finally, his voice a little rough. “I didn’t mean to, but I did.”

“You’ve been doing the hard stuff,” you murmured. “You’ve been strong for her. But you don’t have to lose you in the process.”

His arm tightened around you slightly, his thumb brushing against your side in small, grounding circles. He didn’t say thank you. He didn’t need to. The way he looked at you said everything.

“I didn’t think I’d get this again,” he said after a long silence. “This kind of quiet. This kind of—someone.”

You looked up at him again, your voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t lose your chance, Seungcheol.”

He glanced down at you, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to believe it.

“I think you’re kind of incredible,” you added, smiling just a little. “Even when you’re running off to buy emergency baby food or panicking in the hallway at midnight.”

A small, surprised laugh slipped from him, his eyes crinkling. “You remember that?”

You bumped your shoulder into him lightly. “You muttered a full monologue out there.”

He shook his head with a bashful smile. “I was trying to psych myself out of it.”

“Did it work?”

He looked at you again. Really looked. His gaze softened.

“No,” he said quietly. “Not even close.”

“I don’t know what this is yet,” he said, his voice unsure but honest. “But I know I don’t want to run from it.”

You smiled, leaning your head back on his shoulder. “Good. Because I wasn’t planning on letting you.”

He chuckled under his breath, his head tilting down to rest against yours again.

And just like that, the silence returned—but this time, it held something new. Something neither of you said aloud yet, but both of you felt.

The beginning of something.

=

It’s another random day, the three of you just lounging around. 

Soojin was curled between you, triumphant and snug, and Seungcheol was pretending to pout, eyes narrowed at her while trying not to smile. His arm was still behind you, his body warm and close, and for a second you looked at him

And then, almost without thinking, you leaned in.

A soft kiss. half on his cheek, half on the corner of his lips.

He froze. You pulled back slowly, your smile still there but quieter now, a little uncertain. And then he turned his head toward you, just enough that your faces were closer again, but not quite touching.

“You missed,” he said, voice low, a little breathless.

You raised a brow, trying to play it cool even as your pulse fluttered. “Did I?”

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to your lips for just a second. “A little.”

Soojin, completely oblivious, let out a content sigh in your arms and stuffed her fingers into her mouth.

You looked at him, at the way his usually calm eyes were dancing with something nervous and bold all at once. And then you leaned in again closer this time, a heartbeat away—

Only for Soojin to let out the loudest hiccup of her life and slap a drool-covered hand to your chin.

You and Seungcheol both burst out laughing.

“Okay,” you said, grinning as you wiped your face. “She’s really committed to cockblocking you.”

Seungcheol laughed so hard he had to cover his mouth. “She’s ten months old and already has better timing than I ever will.”

But even after the moment passed, even with Soojin demanding your attention again, he kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye—like the space you almost closed still lingered in his chest.

You were finishing the last of the dishes, sleeves rolled up, humming under your breath when you felt the shift in the room. You didn’t need to turn around—you could sense him. That quiet energy of his when he wasn’t quite sure how to act, like he was rehearsing what to say even as he approached.

Then, arms slid around your waist.

You smiled before he even said anything.

“Hey,” Seungcheol murmured against your shoulder, his voice low, a little too casual.

You grinned, rinsing the last plate. “Hey yourself.”

His hold tightened, not too much, just enough to feel the beat of your pulse and make you pause. His chin rested on your shoulder, breath warm against your neck.

“You do this now every time I’m doing dishes?” you teased, flicking water off your fingers. “Getting cozy so you don’t have to help?”

“I like the view,” he muttered.

You turned your head toward him with an amused look. “Of the sink?”

“Of you at the sink,” he said, then groaned quietly like he hated himself for how that came out. “That sounded better in my head.”

You laughed, setting down the towel and turning in his arms, your hands still a little damp as they rested against his chest. “You’re really bad at this, huh?”

“I am,” he admitted, no hesitation, ears slightly pink. “Like, embarrassingly bad.”

“I kinda like it,” you said with a soft smile. “It’s… endearing.”

“Yeah?” He tilted his head slightly, watching you. “Endearing enough that I don’t need to pretend I came out here for water or something?”

You squinted at him. “You came out here to flirt.”

“I really thought I was being subtle.”

“You were about as subtle as Soojin when she wants to be picked up.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Wow. Harsh.”

“But accurate,” you teased, poking his chest gently.

There was a beat then, quiet and close. His hands were still on your waist, yours resting between his ribs and shoulders. The kitchen was soft around you, dim and warm, the sound of the hallway clock ticking faintly in the background.

And suddenly the air changed.

Seungcheol swallowed. “I’ve… kind of wanted to do this for a while now.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Help with the dishes?”

He huffed a laugh, nervous and fond all at once. “God, you’re really not gonna let me have this moment easy, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

Then he leaned in. Tentative, close enough for your breath to catch but still watching your face like he was giving you every chance to pull away. You didn’t.

Your hands slid around his neck instead, fingers curling into the hair at his nape. “Okay,” you whispered, “I’ll let you have this moment.”

He smiled. Soft, real, and just a little shaky.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t perfect. His nose bumped yours a little, and your teeth almost clacked from the way you both smiled halfway through it. But it was warm and real and his hands tightened just slightly like he was anchoring himself there with you.

When you finally pulled back, he rested his forehead to yours, eyes fluttering shut.

“Worth the bad lines?” he asked.

“Definitely,” you whispered, cheeks flushed.

And from the hallway, as if on cue, Soojin let out a sleepy little squeak in her crib.

You both laughed quietly.

“Guess that’s our timer,” you said, leaning into him again.

He kissed your temple, still holding you like he wasn’t quite ready to let go. “She’s gonna be so mad she missed that.”

=

It was an ordinary morning. Soojin was babbling her usual string of soft sounds while sitting on the floor between you and Seungcheol.

You were handing her one of her favorite toys, grinning as she smacked it against her chubby thigh in excitement. She was bouncing, babbling, making nonsense sounds and grabbing at your sleeve like she always did when—

“Mama.”

It was soft. Clear. Unmistakable.

You froze mid-reach. So did Seungcheol, his mug halfway to his mouth.

The silence that followed was almost comical. Soojin just blinked up at you like she hadn’t just shattered the entire room into stillness.

You slowly turned your head to look at Seungcheol. He was already looking at you, eyes wide.

“Did she—” you started.

He nodded, eyes even wider now. “She said—”

“Mama,” Soojin chirped again, reaching for your hand with her gummy grin.

You blinked fast, a wave of emotion flooding your chest so quickly it knocked the breath out of you. “Oh my god.”

Seungcheol was already moving, crawling closer to the two of you, completely abandoning his coffee. “Wait—say it again, Soojin. What was that?”

But she just giggled now, slapping your arm with baby enthusiasm, still beaming. “Mama!”

You laughed, a sound caught between a sob and sheer disbelief, hugging her instinctively to your chest. “I swear I didn’t teach her that. I didn’t—”

“I know,” Seungcheol said, staring at you both like the world had just shifted. “She just… she chose it.”

“She called you mama.”

You looked up at him, cheeks warm, eyes a little wet. “She did.”

He leaned in and kissed the top of Soojin’s head, then your temple. His voice was barely a whisper, like it was only meant for the space between the three of you.

“She knows who loves her.”

Your eyes welled up so fast it surprised even you. You blinked hard, trying to breathe through it, but the moment, it cracked something open.

Seungcheol’s head snapped up, alarm flashing across his face. “Wait—are you crying? Are those—are you okay? Was it too much? I mean, she just—she just said it out of nowhere, I didn’t mean for—"

You let out a watery laugh, shaking your head as you held Soojin closer. She patted your cheek, like she could sense it. “No—no, it’s not that, it’s just—” you looked up at him, your voice catching in your throat. “Do I deserve that? Is that okay with you?”

His breath caught. His mouth parted, like the words couldn’t come fast enough.

“Hey,” he said, moving closer on his knees, gently reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You didn’t take her from anyone. She chose you. She’s been choosing you.”

You swallowed hard, but the tears still fell, quiet and honest. “I’m not her mom…”

“You love her like one,” he whispered. “She feels that”

You stared at him, breath shaky.

“I didn’t know if it was okay,” you murmured, “to feel this much.”

He leaned forward, forehead touching yours. “It’s more than okay.”

Soojin squirmed in your arms, reaching one tiny hand up to grab a piece of your hair and yanking gently. You both laughed, eyes still wet. And then Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your cheek, soft and sure.

“Welcome to the family, mama.”

You were crouched on the floor, gathering up Soojin’s toys and it hit you all at once. The memory, bright and clear, of her smiling up at you with those shining eyes, her chubby hands reaching out as she said it.

Mama.

The quiet shuffle of feet made you look up. Seungcheol stood at the edge of the room, eyes wide with concern, a half-folded blanket still in his hands.

“Hey—” he said gently, moving to crouch in front of you. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You shook your head, wiping at your cheeks, the words barely able to form. “I don’t know. I just—” you swallowed, voice cracking. “She looked at me like that. She smiled and she called me mama like I’ve always been that for her and I—”

He moved closer, hands bracing on your arms as if to ground you.

You took a deep breath and looked at him, tears still spilling. “How can I even love someone this much? She’s not even mine, but I feel it—I feel like she is. Every part of her. And then I think…” Your voice wobbled harder. “I think, how could anyone not want that? How could her mother not want her? Not love her?”

Seungcheol’s expression folded not in shock, not in discomfort but in something raw and full of understanding. He pulled you forward, wrapping his arms around you tight, pressing your face against his shoulder as you cried.

“I ask myself that all the time,” he murmured. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand it. But I’m grateful—” he held you tighter—“so damn grateful that she has you. That she loves you.”

You clutched his shirt in your fists, letting yourself cry into him, letting the weight of all of it — the love, the ache, the wonder of being chosen — pass through you.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” you whispered.

“You won’t,” he said softly. “You already gave her what no one else did.”

You pulled back a little, eyes still glassy. “What’s that?”

He smiled gently. “Your whole heart.”

“I don’t want her to grow up ever thinking she doesn’t have enough love,” you said, voice raw and breaking. “She doesn’t deserve that. She deserves so much more.”

Seungcheol’s arms tightened around you, his breath catching like your words had punched straight through his chest.

“She won’t,” he said firmly, his voice a little hoarse now too. “Not with you in her life. Not with us.”

You pulled back, just enough to look up at him, your face still streaked with tears. “What if one day she wonders why her mom left? What if I can’t—what if I’m not enough to cover up that kind of ache?”

His hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing the tears away with the gentlest touch. “You being here doesn’t erase what happened,” he said. “But it gives her something else to remember. Something better. She’s gonna grow up knowing that she was wanted so badly that even the people who didn’t have to stay… did.”

Your breath hitched.

“I didn’t mean to love her like this,” you admitted. “I didn’t expect to. But now I can’t imagine not.”

“She doesn’t know anything else but love when you’re around,” he said quietly. “You’ve already changed her whole world. Mine too.”

You closed your eyes, more tears slipping free, but they didn’t feel heavy now. They felt… full.

“I’m so glad she has you,” he whispered. “I’m so glad I do too.”

And there, in that quiet room filled with baby toys and love you didn’t see coming, you nodded and leaned into him, holding on like the two of you — all three of you — were exactly where you were meant to be.

=

He was just coming out of the other room, towel slung around his shoulders, when he heard your voice. Not loud. Not laughing. Not teasing like it usually was when you played with Soojin. 

This was quieter—gentler.

He padded closer to the bedroom doorway, peeking in without making a sound. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor in one of his old sweatshirts, Soojin nestled between your knees, her little arms lifted as you struggled to get her tiny hand through the sleeve of her onesie.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered, a fond smile on your lips as you smoothed the fabric over her back. “Look at you, almost dressed all by yourself. You’re so smart.”

Soojin babbled in response, wiggling slightly as if trying to help.

“You are,” you told her softly, brushing a kiss to her cheek. “So smart, and brave, and kind. And everyone who meets you is going to see that, because you shine. You know that? You shine.”

He stilled, towel forgotten in his hand. Something tugged hard in his chest. You laughed a little when Soojin blew a spit bubble in reply, unbothered, like she understood every word you said.

“And you’ve got the strongest little heart,” you continued, guiding her chubby feet into her leggings. “You’ve been through more than most, haven’t you, sweetheart? But you keep going. You keep smiling. And you’re so, so loved.”

You paused for a second, your fingers slowing.

“By your dad,” you whispered, kissing her forehead. “By me.”

Soojin squealed, flapping her arms with glee, and you grinned, lifting her up in a little bounce. “Yeah? You know it, huh?”

Seungcheol leaned against the doorframe before he could stop himself, heart in his throat, eyes on you like he couldn’t believe this was real. You glanced over, surprised, but your smile didn’t falter.

“Hey,” you said, lifting Soojin a little higher. “We’re dressed. Tell Daddy we got dressed like champs.”

He laughed “I heard.”

You tilted your head. “Too much?”

He shook his head. “Not even close.”

And in that moment, watching you cradle his daughter like she was the whole world and speak to her like every word mattered, Seungcheol realized something else. 

You weren’t just part of his life now. You were helping build it.

You were still laughing softly with Soojin, brushing her wispy hair back and blowing a gentle raspberry to her cheek, when he said it.

“I love you.”

Your hand paused midair.

The room stilled not tense, but full. Full of everything that had been building for weeks in glances, in soft touches, in the way you carried his daughter like she was a part of you, too.

You looked up slowly, lips parted slightly, eyes wide with something between surprise and breathless warmth. “What?”

He stepped forward, leaving the towel forgotten on the hallway floor. His voice was calmer than he expected, his hands at his sides, heart pounding—but steady.

“I love you,” he repeated. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to say it just now. I was going to… I don’t know. Plan it better, maybe.”

You blinked, standing up with Soojin still in your arms, her head now resting lazily on your shoulder like she was sensing something important.

“But then I heard you,” he went on, his voice rough around the edges. “The way you talk to her. The way you love her. And I just—there was no way I could keep it in.”

You stared at him for a beat longer, as if trying to decide if this was real, if you were allowed to feel everything you were suddenly feeling.

Then your mouth curved into the softest smile, and your eyes glistened.

“You’re really bad at planning, huh?”

He let out a breath of a laugh, stepping closer. “Terrible. But I meant it.”

You nodded, hugging Soojin a little tighter between you. “I know.”

He tilted his head, suddenly unsure again. “You know?”

Your smile deepened as you stepped close enough to press your forehead to his, Soojin squished gently between your chests. “Of course I know.”

Then, quieter, your lips brushing his:

“And I love you, too.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for months.

You felt it — the way his shoulders dropped, the quiet shudder of relief through his body, how his hands finally moved to hold your waist, steady like he was anchoring himself to the moment. You didn’t pull away. If anything, you leaned in closer, letting Soojin nestle in between you both like she belonged there — because she did.

He let out a breathless laugh, rubbing one hand gently up your back. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You smiled against his jaw. “You let me in. That’s enough.”

Soojin shifted in your arms with a sleepy little whimper, and both of you instinctively rocked slightly, a quiet rhythm the two of you had already fallen into like it was second nature.

Seungcheol watched you the curve of your smile, the softness in your eyes, the way your arms curled protectively around Soojin like you were born to love her.

And now, him too.

He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I want you to stay.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, eyebrows raised slightly. “Today?”

He shook his head, a little crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“No,” he said, voice quiet but firm. “I mean… in our life. Always.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, full and aching and warm.

You whispered, “Okay.”

And when he leaned down this time — with Soojin smooshed between you both, giggling now, tiny hands batting at your chins — you tilted up to meet him halfway, a soft, sure kiss shared right there in the center of your little world.

Messy, imperfect, beautiful.

Yours.

=

It was the day before Soojin’s first birthday, and the apartment was a gentle mess of soft pinks, pastel streamers, and tiny decorations waiting to be set up. 

Later that evening, after Soojin had gone down for the night, the apartment was unusually quiet. The living room still held the remnants of earlier chaos. You were at the table, folding the last few napkins.

You caught him staring.

“What?”

He gave a guilty little smile. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“That’s always dangerous.”

He laughed under his breath. “True.”

“Thinking about what?”

He hesitated, then came to sit across from you, elbows resting on the table, hands clasped. “Just… tomorrow. Her first birthday. It feels like a milestone for her, but also… for me.”

You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hands. “I think it is. You kept her alive, loved, and growing for a whole year. You did amazing.”

“She made it easy. And you…” he trailed off, gaze softening. “You came in and filled in every space I didn’t know was empty.”

Your heart squeezed at that.

“You know,” he said after a beat, “I used to count down every hour until bedtime. Just so I could breathe for a second. And now—now I look forward to the mornings because I get to see her smile. And I get to see you.”

You smiled gently, voice quiet. “Cheol…”

“I mean it,” he said, sitting up a bit straighter. “You changed everything.”

You reached across the table, resting your hand over his. He turned his palm to meet yours, fingers lacing instinctively, like they’d always meant to do that.

Then he squeezed your hand. “Wanna stay over again tonight? Just us. Before the chaos of tomorrow.”

You smiled softly. “Only if you make me your famous midnight ramen.”

He grinned. “Deal.”

He stood, pulling you up with him by your joined hands. You laughed as he tugged you close, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

Later, you found yourselves curled on the couch, sharing a blanket, your legs tangled, a bowl of instant ramen balanced between you. You took turns feeding each other, whispering quiet jokes and memories from the past few months, letting the soft light from the kitchen be the only thing illuminating the moment.

And neither of you said it, but it was clear. This, it wasn’t fleeting. It was growing roots.

Right here, in the warmth of laughter and late-night ramen, on the eve of a little girl’s first birthday.

You're both lying in bed, the lights dimmed to a soft glow, the sheets pulled up to your waists. Soojin was asleep in her room, the baby monitor quiet on the nightstand. Seungcheol was on his side, facing you, one arm tucked under his pillow, the other resting just barely on your waist.

You’d been talking about her birthday party tomorrow, about whether the cake would survive the trip from the bakery, about how she was probably going to end up covered in icing before the day was done. 

You’d laughed, light and sleepy, and then the room had gone quiet. Not awkward—just still.

And you’d gone quiet too.

He noticed it almost instantly.

“Hey,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles along your arm. “Where’d you go just now?”

You blinked out of your thoughts, glancing at him. “Nowhere.”

He raised a brow, giving you a look.

You exhaled a soft laugh. “Okay… not nowhere.”

He waited, eyes patient, a quiet comfort in the dark.

“I was just thinking,” you said, your voice low, barely more than a whisper. “How fast everything changed. How we went from being strangers in the hallway to…” You trailed off, gesturing softly between you and him.

“To this,” he said.

You nodded. “And how it doesn’t feel scary. I thought it would. But it doesn’t.”

He smiled, eyes still on you. “I thought it would too. I tried really hard to keep things from going too far, honestly.”

You gave a playful scoff. “Wow. Thanks.”

He laughed quietly. “I mean because I was scared. Because I thought maybe it was too much to hope for. That someone could just… walk into our lives and fit so perfectly. Be exactly what I didn’t know I needed.”

“I still get scared,” he admitted. “But every time you’re here, or she reaches for you, or you say her name like it’s the most beautiful thing in the world… I stop doubting for a little bit.”

You shifted closer, pressing your forehead to his. “Then I’ll just have to keep doing all of that. So you don’t forget.”

His hand found yours under the blanket, fingers curling around yours gently.

“Okay,” he said, voice low. “Deal.”

He never said it outright again after the first time, “I love you”, but he didn’t need to. 

It lived in every small thing he did. In the way he made your tea just the way you liked. In the way he gave you the first bite of everything. In how he never missed a chance to touch you — hand on your back, brushing your fingers, tucking your hair behind your ear.

And you — you loved them back so fiercely it scared you sometimes.

“She’s so loved,” you whispered

“She is,” he said, almost like a vow.

You looked at him — this man who had doubted everything once, wondered if he could be a good father, a good partner, someone worth staying for. Now he says things like vows he'll keep for the rest of his life.

“I was so scared,” he murmured, voice low. “That I’d mess her up. That I’d never get it right.”

You reached for his hand. “You did everything right, Cheol. Everything.”

A long pause.

Then, softly, with a small laugh in his voice, he asked, “So… same time next year for birthday number two?”

You smiled, leaned up to kiss him — gentle, reassuring. “Already thinking what theme we should do next”

Right here, right now he doesn't even remember all those who left, everything he once lost. Now, all he can think of is what he has, wha he gained ever since he met you.

Wrapped in each other, the past behind and the future so very close, it felt like the beginning of everything good. Of everything true.

[gojoest]

A LUCKY ONE — satoru being sickeningly in love with you, gn! reader, you're naked in bed, calls you beauty

“well, well… look what we have here”, satoru’s morning voice wafts through the air as he lifts the blanket covering the two of you up, just a tiny bit but enough to take a peek — “a naked beauty in my bed”. the view of your bare legs (one of which is thrown over his) helps the idiotic smile on his lips crack wider. his lips look a little dry, you think. you haven’t kissed them since you fell asleep last night. you should fix that, you think, because yours start to feel a bit dry too.

you slowly charge towards his face with yours until your lips meet his for a short kiss. “you’re a lucky one — because i have a naked loser in mine”, you sigh as you pull away but—

—he pulls you back,

“oh, so?”, and effortlessly drags your body on top of his, wrapping his arms around you. both of his hands resting at the small of your back. “beauty and the loser sounds like a good match, no?”

“it’s not like i have much of a choice here. the beauty is stuck with the loser, you see”, you try to slip away but no use, he’s got you good — his arms won’t budge. “see what i’m talking about?”

“so you’d choose someone else to be stuck with if given the chance?”, he gasps, then purses his lips into a pout.

“as if you’d ever give me that chance”

“absolutely never”, he squeezes you tightly — physically emphasizing what he just said — before placing a hand at the back of your neck to pull your face close and hide it in the crook of his neck. “you’re mine”

“see, do i even have a choice?”, you try to hold back your chuckle at his adorable reaction.

“no. you’re stuck with this loser right here, like it or not”, he responds. still pouting, still holding you close.

“guess i have to learn to live with that”

“good. make sure to excel at it because it’s a matter of life and death — this loser can’t live without you”

“i’ll do my best then, or it’ll weigh on my conscious”

“that’s the only reason?”, another gasp leaves his mouth.

“hmm…”, you take your time before you continue, pretending to think very hard of another reason. “maybe the fact that he’s my loser has something to do with it, but i’m not very sure — either way, he’s a lucky one i’d say”

“yea”, his cheek squishes against your head, a pout still present on his lips. “he really is a lucky one, but you — you’re a very mean one, you know? just tell me you love me already”, he whines.

“or what?”

“or we’ll stay like this in bed all day”

“okay. i don’t mind”

“oh? neither do i, to be honest”, he snorts.

after all this is much better for him.

[bloodlineslut]

FaceTime Calls (Pt. 2) | Jey Uso

Images/GIFs aren’t mine, credits to rightful owners.

Pairings: Jey Uso x black! reader

Warnings: smut, cyber sex, slight dirty talk, Jey talks you through it, self-stimulation, mile high club?

Summary: (If you haven’t already, read Pt. 1 first as this is a continuation of that one shot!) Jey is on his late-night flight on the way back to you and he tries to calls you while on the plane to see a lil sum ;)

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I don’t think I’m that good at writing like self-stimulation one shots, but I tried lol. Side note, I did indeed get distracted the other night I told myself I would finish. Oopsie 😅 Also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future fics!

You impatiently watched and heard the seemingly never-ending dialing of Jey on FaceTime. The words finally change to “Connecting…” before being met with his handsome, sexy face. His broad shoulders were adorned with a white T-shirt and he had on a black beanie.

His Cuban link Yeet chain on his neck rested against the T-shirt, adding that extra pop to his sexiness and charm. And then his new neck tattoo just really sent you to the moon and back.

“Oh so now you wanna answer.” He was the first one to speak on the other end, his voice more raspy than usual, due to his yelling and getting hype at the earlier WWE event.

You roll your eyes, adjusting and tightening your white towel that was still wrapped around your body from your steaming, but relaxing shower. Your skin was freshly washed and exfoliated, smelling like peaches and cream from the shower gel.

“Jey, please. I should’ve turned off the TV when you came on since you wanna be petty.” You were only joking. You would never do that as you absolutely loved seeing your man in all his World Heavyweight Champ glory.

“Aw damn baby. Aight, aight. You liked my new gear though?” He asks, always seeking your approval about his “drip” since he always said that you dressed well.

“I did Jey! You looked real good out there.” You were now walking, phone in hand, back to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You set the phone against the walled mirror as you do your tasks.

Jey sees that you’re in nothing but a towel and a slow smirk appears on his face, licking his lips.

“Damn…Man, I’m so glad I’m on the way home.”

You giggle as you start your skincare after having just finished brushing your teeth.

“I’m glad you’re on the way too. I miss snuggling you at night and in the morning before you make me get up at the ass crack of dawn to go to the gym.” You push your bonnet back to apply some moisturizer, making sure to get all your forehead.

“Yea, you like it though…”

His playful cockiness makes you laugh and shake your head. “Mhm, barely.” Unbeknownst to you, as you were so focused on your nightly routine, your towel was getting looser little by little.

You hear movements on Jey’s end of the phone and pause what you were doing to get a better look at him. The lighting is now dimmer, and you could hear the faint echo of what sounded like the plane engine.

“Where’d you go?”

There’s a small pause before Jey holds the phone up so you can see him locking the latch of a door. “The restroom.”

“Oh Jey, put it on mute please.” You say because he always brings the phone with him if he has to use the restroom but sometimes he forgets to put himself on mute.

“Nah, trust me you gon’ wanna hear.” He says lowly.

“Jey what the hell…”

He angles the phone down to his pants, hand gripping his bulging length through his pants. “I couldn’t wait ‘til I land, mama.” He says, biting his lower lip. “You been on my mind all day, and that towel you got on got me all hot.”

You glance down at the towel still clinging loosely on your body, water droplets still drying on your arms.

He leans back against one of the walls of the cramped space. His hand continued to roam between his legs as he kept palming himself through his black sweats.

“I’m not doing anything…” You play coy.

“Oh so that’s what you gon’ do? Tease me when I’m stuck on this damn plane? That’s foul, baby.” His breathing was now heavier, desire evident in his beautiful eyes, wishing he was there behind you right now.

“Well, I can’t leave my man hanging now, can I?” You then tighten the towel around your body so it hugs your silhouette, giving him a better view of your curves.

His hand was now past the barrier of his sweatpants, pushing them down with one hand, now only having his boxers in the way.

“Fuck, mama… Let me see somethin’ real quick. Just a lil’.”

You giggle and turn around, so your back is to the phone, bending over and causing the towel to rise up revealing your plump, juicy cheeks.

Jey’s eyes got bigger and his hand quickly pushed down his boxers, finally making contact with his heavy, thick cock.

“Man, I’d put my face all up in that mama.” He uses the excessive amount of precum that was on the head of his cock as lubricant as he stroked it up and down.

You loved when he talked dirty to you, and for some reason you especially liked it over the phone.

You pushed the towel up more, revealing your whole naked ass and shook it for him, looking back over your shoulder to see his reaction.

Your eyes are glued to the phone screen, seeing his chest rising and falling, and his perfectly grilled teeth biting his lip to keep from being too loud.

“You like what you see Daddy?” The nickname was his weakness. No one could make him feel on top of the world like you.

Not the crowd, not the WWE company.

Just you.

He throws his head back briefly and slows down his pumps, not wanting to bust too quick.

“Can I see it again baby? Please?” He murmurs and begs, his voice gravelly and quiet. “Pull it down, mama. Pull it down just for me.”

You hesitate, but only for a split second, quickly overcoming that shyness that always seems to creep back up when you and him do things like this.

You slowly pull your towel down and face back to the phone so he can see your naked chest and front now.

Jey’s mouth falls open even more, then he clenches his jaw hard. “Shit. You got me in the mile high club, baby.”

“No, not if I’m not there.” You tease and push your breasts together, squeezing the nipples, like he would do if he was there with you.

“Fuck baby. You so perfect. I couldn’t stop thinking about how you sound when I’m in it. You be damn near crying ‘cause it feels so good.” He kept stroking his swollen and aching cock, eyes fixated on your brown nipples that he loved to pay special attention to.

Hearing his desire increased your own as your other hand trailed down between your legs.

“Go lay down on the bed, baby.” His low voice commanded you and you happily obliged, turning the light off in the bathroom before laying on the bed.

The sheets still smelled like him, too.

“Mm, I wanna touch it Jey.” You sigh out, seeing his arm continuing to move up and down.

“Go ‘head, princess, I’ll talk you through it.”

You bring your fingers to the bud that was poking out, aching to be rubbed, and a sigh of pleasure involuntarily comes out from between your lips.

“Yea, just like that. Show me, baby.” Jey sees you place the phone against a stray pillow that was on the bed, a clear view for him to see you rub your clit.

“Yea…you wish I was there huh? Them sexy legs on my shoulders while I lick your pussy? Tell me.” He was gripping his cock a little harder but still keeping the strokes.

That fantasy made more liquid pour out of you and you gathered it to bring it back up to your clit, enhancing the pleasure. “Fuck, yes Jey. It feels so good when you do it.”

He cracks a smile, grills shining even in the dim light of the plane’s restroom. “I know mama. You always so wet for me, we be having to change the sheets damn near everyday.”

You giggle in the midst of your rising pleasure. “Mm. When you get home, I wanna ride you and show you how much I love you…”

Jey’s tongue swiped over his lips, wetting them. “Aye when I get in the door, you do whatever you want, baby. You know I love you so much. So damn sexy and beautiful…” Just thinking about being inside of you makes his cock and his heart swell.

His hand was pumping his cock faster now, his ecstasy rising. “Fuck baby, I’m ‘bout to cum. You gon’ cum with me? Please baby.”

Hearing him beg just really set you off as you felt that knot begin to form in your lower abdomen. “Yes Daddy, please cum for me and I’ll cum for you.”

He quickly set the phone against the wall on the small counter, his other hand grabbing some toilet paper to catch the result of his orgasm.

He felt his balls tighten and contract as the first jets landed right on the toilet paper.

The sight helped you get over that edge and your back arched up, eyes rolling in the back of your head as you rode the high.

“Shit…” Jey’s chest was heaving up and down trying to catch his breath as he was trying to be as quiet as possible. He didn’t want anyone to catch him and his girl in the intimate moment.

After about 3 minutes, you both were somewhat back to earth. You sat up slightly to grab your phone, putting the camera back on your face that had that post-orgasmic glow to it.

Jey gathered up the toilet paper, threw it in the toilet and flushed it before gently putting himself back into his boxers and pulling his sweats back up onto his hips.

“Damn mama. I needed that, thank you.”

“I needed that too. My man is so fine…” You stuck your tongue between your teeth, watching him wash and dry his hands.

“My lady so fine. I love you so much baby.”

“I love you more.”

He was walking out of the small restroom, walking back down the aisle to his seat. He heard somebody snicker. It was Sami.

“Aye Sami, shutup uce.” When he sat back down in his seat, Sami was still laughing and Jey smacked his teeth, a little embarrassed.

“That dude got dog ears or sum.” Jey said, making you burst out laughing while he just shook his head.

“Yea keep laughing. Wait ‘till I get home.” He was still a little sensitive so he manspread his legs, resting one elbow on the armrest between the plane seats.

“Okay. But you gotta catch me first.” You smile, just relaxing from the high on the comfortable bed.

“Oh I can catch you baby. Ain’t no running.”

Catching on that his statement carried a double meaning, you grabbed a pillow and placed it over your face, silently geeking into it.

Jey let out a laugh. “So tell me about your day baby.”

You told Jey all about the events and errands that you had to run earlier, excited in knowing that he was on his way home to you.

The end.

taglist!: @4milly @punksyeet @amandairene88 @levissslutt @sheaabuttaababyy @m00nlitnight @uceyliyahh

[hereforuconnwbb]

Foul Play - Chapter 2

paige x azzi (pazzi)

au fic!

word count: 4.1k

warning: language

hey guys tysm for showing the love for chapter 1 !! i appreciate it sm 🥹 i went straight to working on this chapter a bit after i woke up bc of the motivation from u guys😭 anyways i hope this chapter is alr cs i did get a bit stuck but js came up with smth quickly so it might not be that great and i dont rlly like it... anyways hope u guys enjoy !!🫶🏽

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Paige blinked up at her phone screen, the brightness nearly blinding after a shit night of sleep.

Aubrey: u alive ? 

Aubrey: meet me at the cafe before class cs i need caffeine and u need to not look like u wanna kill someone when we show up

She groaned, rolled out of bed, and muttered a curse as her feet hit the cold floor. Her shoulders still ached from yesterday’s scrimmage, but she wasn’t about to admit that out loud. Not after making Marcus look like her bitch.

Paige finally arrived at the cafe, Aubrey was already at a table near the back, sipping something with way too much whipped cream and scrolling through tiktok.

Paige slid into the seat across from her. “You’re disgusting.”

Aubrey didn’t look up. “You’re late.”

“I showed up. That’s enough.”

Aubrey finally looked at her, 1 brow raised. “So, now that your lil murder haze wore off—what’s up with you and Marcus ? I didn’t wanna ask yesterday while you were still heated.”

Paige sipped her coffee, grimaced. “We knew each other back in high school.”

Aubrey leaned in. “Knew each other, like friends ?”

“Yep. Close friends til he slept with my girlfriend at the time.”

Aubrey blinked. “Oh.”

“Yea. Oh.”

“Ok, that explains… everything.”

“He’s lucky I only ghosted him,” Paige said, then took another sip, letting the bitterness settle behind her teeth.

Before Aubrey could respond, a voice behind them cut through the low hum of the cafe.

“Seriously ? This place has like, two clean tables and you had to take mine ?”

Paige didn’t even need to look. She already knew.

Azzi was standing there in a uconn soccer hoodie and leggings, hair still wet from a morning shower, looking pissed about everything.

“Wow,” Paige said without missing a beat. “Didn’t realise seating arrangements were part of your lil dictatorship.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “Didn’t realize transferring here came with a superiority complex.”

“Trust me, mine’s earned.”

Azzi gave a slow, sarcastic smile. “Yea ? By standing in the middle of the damn path like it’s yours ?”

Paige’s eyes narrowed. “You ran into me.”

Azzi scoffed. “Maybe move next time.”

“Maybe watch where you’re going.”

They were locked in now. Neither of them blinked.

Aubrey glanced between them and made a face. “Okkkkk,” she said, dragging out the word, “I think the real issue is caffeine withdrawal, and not whatever weird little rivalry yall are doing.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m leaving.”

“Yea good, run along,” Paige said under her breath.

Azzi turned back just long enough to shoot her a look. “Your ego’s not gonna fit through the classroom door.”

“Guess I’ll just have to squeeze in next to yours.”

Azzi stormed off, and Paige blew out a sharp breath, fingers curling around her coffee cup.

Aubrey whistled low. “Damn. You two got heat.”

Paige glared. “Don’t even start.”

Aubrey paused, then winced. “Shit—I forgot to tell you something yesterday.”

“What ?”

“…She’s dating Marcus.”

Paige blinked. Once. Twice.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I wish,” Aubrey muttered, stirring her drink.

Paige leaned back in her chair, let out a humourless laugh. “Of course. Makes sense. Two egos, one toxic-ass couple. They deserve each other.”

Aubrey gave her a sideways look. “You’re really on one today.”

“I’m calm,” Paige said with a flat smile. “I just know shit when I smell it.”

“Cool. Just maybe don’t say that out loud in class. They’re both in our 9:30.”

Paige’s smile dropped.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Azzi walked out of the cafe with her jaw tight and fists buried in the front pocket of her hoodie as she pulled out her phone and opened the gc with Caroline and Kaitlyn.

Azzi: js ran into that stupid transfer again

Azzi: the one from yesterday

Azzi: paige wtv

Kaitlyn: WIAT what happened ??????????

Kaitlyn: did she say smth ?

Caroline: az wdym ‘again’  

Caroline: u never told us there was a first time 😭

Azzi exhaled through her nose, fingers flying across the screen.

Azzi: she was standing in the middle of the damn path yesterday like a traffic cone

Azzi: shoulder checked me

Azzi: acted like it was my fault

Azzi: whole lotta attitude like she runs campus or something

Kaitlyn: no way thats crazy 😭

Caroline: i love her game but like… not her thinking this is HER skl when she js got here 😭

Azzi: and js now she had the nerve to start shit in the cafe

Azzi: sat at my usual table

Azzi: mouthy asf

Azzi: shes got a real chip on her shoulder

Kaitlyn: omg

Kaitlyn: ok but this sounds kinda juicy

Caroline: definitely sounds like theres a lil tension 👀

Azzi: theres nth

Azzi: shes js annoying

Azzi backed out of the chat and opened her messages with Marcus.

Azzi: can u meet me at the cafe ?

Azzi: we can walk to class together

He replied a minute later.

Marcus: yh almost there

Marcus: u good ?

Azzi: fine

Azzi: js meet me out front

She tucked her phone away and leaned against the outside wall of the cafe, exhaling slowly.

Marcus showed up 2 minutes later with his uconn basketball hoodie on, chain glinting in the morning light, and that cocky grin like he didn’t know how to walk normally.

Azzi spotted him weaving through the early class crowd and stepped off the wall.

He leaned in, pecked her on the cheek, then pulled back to look at her. “Babe, you sure you’re good ? You texted like you were ready to murder someone.”

Azzi sighed. “That new basketball transfer ? Paige ?”

Marcus rolled his eyes before she could finish. “I fucking hate her.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “You know her ?”

“Unfortunately.”

There was something in the way he said it so fast and bitterly but she didn’t press. Just raised a brow. “So you also think she’s the most arrogant person on this campus ?”

Marcus huffed a dry laugh. “Always has been. Bro walks around like everyone owes her something.”

Azzi nodded, arms folded. “She shoulder checked me yesterday and then acted like I got in her way.”

Marcus’s jaw clenched. “Yep. Sounds like her.”

Azzi tilted her head. “So what happened ? Why do you hate her ?”

He waved it off. “Old shit. High school drama. Doesn’t matter.”

That made her pause. “Wait… you guys went to the same high school ?”

Marcus hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Yea. Different crowds though. She was always doing her own thing.”

Azzi stared at him a moment longer, then let it go.

They started walking toward class together, falling into a comfortable enough silence.

The room was already half full when Azzi and Marcus slid into the back corner row, claiming their usual spot. He slung his arm casually around her shoulders pulling her in close. She let him, leaning slightly into his side, but her eyes drifted out the window as he launched into a story about pickup runs a few years ago at the gym and how he “cooked” 3 guys who are now playing pro. Again.

Azzi nodded at the right parts, hummed in acknowledgment, but mostly tuned out. It wasn’t new. Marcus talked a lot about himself. She used to think it was charming. Now it just filled the space with static.

She was about to check the time when the classroom door opened, and Paige walked in like she owned the place.

Aubrey followed right behind, phone still in hand, looking barely awake. The moment Paige’s eyes landed on Marcus and Azzi cuddled up in the corner, her expression twisted like she’d just smelled something grot.

Paige muttered under her breath, loud enough for half the back row to hear, “Shi I didn’t know this class came with live pda. Gross.”

Aubrey pinched her lips to keep from laughing. “Can you not ?”

Paige didn’t stop. “It’s like watching a bad teen drama in real time.”

Azzi’s head snapped up, her jaw clenching instantly. Marcus looked over too, mouth twitching like he was ready to throw hands if he had the range.

Paige and Aubrey took the opposite end of the back row. Paige threw her bag down and dropped into the seat like the room itself exhausted her.

1 of the girls in front of them turned around with a sweet smile. “You’re Paige right ? The transfer ?”

Paige gave a slow blink. “Unfortunately.”

The girl giggled like it was charming. “I saw your highlights online. You’ve got such good handles.”

“Thanks,” Paige said flatly, not even trying to sound interested.

Another girl chimed in from the row over. “You in a relo or anything ?”

Paige tilted her head. “Nah.”

“Oooooo, so you’re free then ?”

Aubrey groaned and rested her head on her arms. “You guys are bold.”

“I’m just saying,” the first girl said, undeterred, “you’ve got like, main character energy.”

Paige smirked, eyes still cool. “And yet I’ve never been this bored.”

That shut them up. Mostly.

Azzi shifted in her seat, watching it all from across the room. She didn’t know why it irritated her. She shouldn’t care. But the way the girls kept trying, and Paige kept rejecting, like no one was good enough it made her want to say something.

Then Paige leaned over to Aubrey and said, “Maybe I’m just cold cause I haven’t gotten laid in months.”

Aubrey made a sound between a snort and a cough. “Honestly ? That would explain a lot.”

“Probably,” Paige said with a crooked grin, sipping her coffee like she hadn’t just said it in a room full of people.

That’s when a new voice cut in. “Well, if that’s the problem, I’m available whenever.”

They turned to see her leaning back in her chair a row ahead, looking over her shoulder with a soft smile. Dark braids in a high bun, deep brown eyes, tan skin that glowed under the shitty lecture hall lights. She wore a uconn volleyball hoodie and the confidence of someone who was used to being noticed.

Paige blinked. “What’s your name ?”

“Jayla,” she said. “Senior. And, like I said… available.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Got a phone ?”

Jayla tossed her a slow, deliberate smile. “You wanna put your number in it ?”

“Sure,” Paige said, holding out her hand. Jayla passed her the phone.

Aubrey watched this unfold like it was live theatre. “Oh now you wanna be social.”

“I’m adaptable,” Paige murmured, tapping her number in and handing it back.

Across the room, Marcus stiffened. His jaw locked, and his grip around Azzi’s shoulders subtly tightened.

Azzi didn’t notice. She was still staring at Paige.

Jayla winked as she turned back around. "Thank you superstar.”

Paige leaned back in her chair with a smug little smirk.

Marcus muttered, ��That girl’s a fucking joke.”

Azzi frowned. “What ?”

“I said, she’s pathetic,” he repeated, louder.

Azzi narrowed her eyes, watching Paige again. “You sure you’re not just mad she didn’t flirt with you ?”

Marcus scoffed. “Why would I care ? I got you.”

From across the row, Paige’s voice floated out lazily, not even bothering to look at them. “Might wanna keep your boyfriend on a leash, Soccer Barbie. He’s foaming at the mouth.”

Azzi sat up straighter. “Say that again ?”

Paige finally turned, eyes sharp. “Didn’t stutter.”

Aubrey sighed. “Here we go.”

Azzi twisted in her seat. “You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh I think I do,” Paige said with a small, cold smile. “I’ve known him for a while and I’ve seen guys just like him my whole life. Big talk, small… game.”

Marcus sat forward. “Try me, Bueckers.”

Paige’s smile didn’t flinch. “Thought I already did. On the court yesterday. Remember how that went ?”

Azzi looked between them, confused. “Wait—what ?”

“Nothing,” Marcus snapped. “She’s just running her mouth again.”

Paige gave a mock pout. “Nawwww you’re still mad I crossed you up in front of our teams ?”

“You got lucky.”

“I got buckets.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Azzi cut in, her voice rising. “Both of you shut up.”

A tense silence fell over the back corner.

Paige just leaned back again, eyes on the ceiling. “Gosh. This school’s full of clowns.”

Aubrey nudged her. “You’re gonna fight someone before we even get to midterms.”

Paige muttered under her breath, “Don’t tempt me.”

Jayla turned back around just enough to whisper, “I text you or you text me ?”

Paige smirked. “You text me.”

—-------------------------------------------------

The rest of class dragged on. The professor rambled on about economic systems, but no one in the back row was paying attention except Aubrey, who half-heartedly took notes just to avoid getting roped into more drama. Azzi stayed tense, arms folded, lips pressed together as she glared holes into her notebook. Marcus tried to whisper something to her, but she brushed him off with a short shake of her head.

Meanwhile, Paige sat back with her legs manspreading, spinning a pen between her fingers. Every so often, she glanced over at Jayla, who was doing an impressive job of pretending she wasn’t glancing back.

As soon as the professor dismissed class, Jayla stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. She didn’t even wait for Paige to move first—just turned, leaned in with that same easy smile, and said, “So… are you free tonight ?”

Paige gave a slow nod. “Yea. But just so we’re clear…” Her tone flattened slightly, not cold but firm. “I’m not looking for anything serious. Strictly casual.”

Jayla didn’t flinch. “Good. Me neither.” Then she smiled again, bright and warm. “I’m not the clingy type.”

Paige gave a small, appreciative smirk. “Then we’ll get along fine.”

Jayla tapped her phone. “I’ll text you. See you tonight, superstar.”

Paige watched her walk off for a second before turning to grab her own stuff. Aubrey had already stood and was slinging her bag over her shoulder, giving her a look.

“What ?” Paige asked.

Aubrey blinked slowly. “You. Jayla.”

“What about us ?” Paige asked as they started walking out together.

“She’s like… sunshine. You’re not.”

“She said it’s casual,” Paige said with a shrug. “I’m not gonna fall in love with her or whatever. It’s just gonna be a hookup.”

Aubrey gave her a skeptical look. “You don’t even like people. What makes you think you’re gonna enjoy this one ?”

“I don’t have to like her,” Paige replied dryly. “I just have to like what we’re doing.”

Aubrey made a face. “tmi, bro.”

Then she glanced sideways at Aubrey. “But did you catch Marcus’s face when I gave her my number ?”

Aubrey’s expression shifted. “I did, actually.”

“Looked like someone spat in his drink.”

Aubrey nodded slowly. “It was definitely a look.”

Paige exhaled through her nose. “Wouldn’t even be surprised if there’s something weird going on there.”

Aubrey narrowed her eyes. “Like what ?”

“I dunno.” Paige shrugged like she didn’t care, but her voice had that sharp edge again. “He got real twitchy the second I started talking to her. That’s like ‘I’ve got secrets’ behaviour.”

“You think he’s messing around with Jayla ?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t not say it.”

Paige smirked. “Exactly.”

They walked in silence for a few steps.

Then Aubrey said, “You planning on saying anything ? Like to Azzi ?”

Paige scoffed. “Fuck no. That girl hates me and I hate her too.”

She pushed the door open, let the sunlight spill over them, and said, “Plus, I’ve got better things to do than get caught in someone else’s shit.”

Aubrey didn’t press. But she saw the way Paige’s jaw flexed as they stepped outside.

—-------------------------------------------------

Later that day they settled onto a weathered wooden bench beneath a tree after deciding to get some air instead of staying in their rooms all day. Aubrey pulled her phone out and started scrolling, while Paige absentmindedly drummed her fingers on the bench, still simmering from the morning’s tense class.

“So, what’s your take on this season ?” Aubrey asked, breaking the silence. “You think the team’s gonna be better this year ? Cause you know, with you coming in all ‘transfer superstar’ and all that.”

Paige snorted. “I’m not about the hype. Just wanna run it back on the court and kill it. No distractions.”

Aubrey smiled knowingly. “Yea, no distractions. Like your little hook up with Jayla tonight and Marcus and Azzi being up your ass after two days into being here on campus.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

They fell quiet for a moment, eyes drifting across to the walkway where a familiar figure leaned against a lamp post nearby.

Marcus. 

He was talking to Jayla, who looked frustrated, arms crossed, lips moving fast like she was telling him off. Paige tensed, her gaze sharp.

“I don’t like what I'm seeing,” she muttered, nudging Aubrey. “What the hell are they doing ?”

Aubrey squinted. “Looks like they’re arguing. Jayla’s pissed about something… maybe because of tonight ? Ion know.”

Paige’s stomach tightened. They edged a little closer but stayed behind a low bush so they wouldn’t be spotted.

Marcus’s voice was low, clipped, and though they couldn’t hear the words, his gestures were sharp with his finger jabbing, then a hand raised like a warning.

Jayla shook her head, then suddenly pulled out her phone, fingers flying over the screen. Paige’s phone buzzed right then.

She pulled it out, eyes narrowing as she read.

Jayla: hey i changed my mind about tn. im not interested anymore

Paige’s mouth tightened, the words stinging more than she wanted to admit. She looked back at Jayla and Marcus—Jayla’s expression was tight, eyes flicking nervously toward Marcus, who looked like he was watching every move like a hawk.

“Bullshit,” Paige muttered under her breath.

Aubrey put a steady hand on her shoulder. “Forget it, Paige. Let’s just go do some weights to forget about this. Don’t let this shit ruin your day.”

Paige shook her off with a sharp edge. “He’s always fucking everything up for me. He can’t stand me. And now he’s doing this to piss me off even more.”

Aubrey sighed but said nothing. They watched as Marcus gave Jayla a final stern look, and she reluctantly slid the phone back into her pocket. Neither of them noticed that Paige and Aubrey were watching as they were too caught up in their own conversation to suspect anyone could be watching.

Paige’s jaw clenched as she stared after them, a cold fire sparking inside her.

“Mark my words,” she whispered. “I’m not letting that asshole ruin this year. I will literally ruin his year.”

—-------------------------------------------------

Azzi was already on the field, cleats digging into the turf as she moved through a warm-up circuit alone. Her passes were sharp, her touches clean, but her jaw stayed tight, focus narrowed more out of tension than discipline. She barely looked up when she heard voices approaching.

Caroline and Kaitlyn strolled over from the far side of the complex, both in training gear and mid-laugh about something. Caroline spotted Azzi first and gave her a wave. “Damn, you’re early. Grinding already ?”

Azzi slowed to a jog, grabbing her water bottle from the ground as she met them at the sideline. “Needed to clear my head.”

Kaitlyn raised an eyebrow, glancing between her and the goalpost Azzi had clearly been aiming at. “Judging by the way that net’s getting bullied, I’m guessing something’s up.”

Azzi hesitated for a second, then exhaled through her nose. “I already caught you guys up. It’s just… that situation. Me and Paige. The whole beef.”

Caroline didn’t say anything, but the flicker in her expression said she understood.

Kaitlyn gave a low whistle. “Yea, that’s the kind of drama that’ll make you wanna kick something. Or someone.”

Azzi gave a dry half-smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yea, well. I’m trying not to let it mess with my game.”

Caroline bumped her shoulder gently. “Good. Keep it that way. We got a trial game in two days so no time for distractions.”

Azzi nodded, jaw tightening again as she tied her hair back with a quick motion. She didn’t say it, but the distraction was already there.

“Alrightyyyy, let’s start.” Kaitlyn clapped her hands. 

The 3 of them jogged toward the cones laid out on the field for their session that they planned on. For now, Azzi forced the thoughts out of her mind. Just touches. Just drills. Just the ball and the work. Everything else could wait.

—-------------------------------------------------

A few minutes later, Paige and Aubrey cut across the campus walkway that ran alongside the soccer field, heading toward the gym. Paige still had a storm in her eyes with her jaw locked.

Aubrey kept glancing sideways at her. “You good ?”

“No,” Paige muttered. “But weights will help.”

They neared the edge of the field where Azzi, Caroline, and Kaitlyn were locked into a sprint-drill circuit. Azzi spotted them first locking in Paige’s tall frame, blonde hair, and that infuriatingly calm walk beside Aubrey. Her stomach turned. The irritation she’d been working to bury all afternoon resurfaced in an instant.

“Yuck,” she muttered under her breath, eyes locked on Paige like she’d just seen something offensive.

Caroline glanced at her sideways. “Ignore it.”

But Azzi didn’t. Instead, she took a sharp touch on the ball during their next passing drill and, with a flick of her foot and a bit too much heat, sent it sailing straight towards the path where Paige and Aubrey were walking.

The ball skidded across the grass and thumped to a stop right in front of Paige’s feet.

She paused, glancing down, then up at the field. Her eyes found Azzi almost immediately.

Aubrey raised her brows. “Was that—”

“Yep,” Paige said coldly.

Without hesitation, Paige bent down, picked up the ball, and turned to the opposite direction of the field. She booted it hard, sending it flying across the grass toward the far end of the field.

Caroline and Kaitlyn both froze, wide-eyed. Azzi’s head snapped toward the ball’s route, her hands lifting in disbelief.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” she muttered, storming off in that direction with quick, frustrated strides.

Kaitlyn turned to Caroline.

Caroline just sighed. “It’s gonna get worse before it gets better.”

Meanwhile, Paige didn’t look back. She just kept walking beside Aubrey, who shook her head, both amused and mildly stressed.

“You’re playing with fire,” Aubrey said under her breath.

“I’m done playing,” Paige shot back, voice flat. “She wants to start shit ? She picked the right day.”

And with that, they disappeared into the gym entrance, the tension they left behind still crackling across the field.

—-------------------------------------------------

Paige and Aubrey had just left the gym, muscles burning and clothes damp with sweat from their weight session. The late afternoon sun was dipping lower, casting long shadows across the campus as they headed back toward the dorms. The air was cooler now, but Paige still felt a fire burning under her skin.

They rounded a corner near the soccer field, and suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Paige spotted Azzi, Caroline, and Kaitlyn, walking slowly together, their faces all pulled tight with frustration.

Azzi’s jaw was clenched so hard Paige could practically hear it. Her fists were balled at her sides, and her strides were sharp, like every step was trying to shake off the shitty mood that clung to her.

“Shit,” Aubrey muttered under her breath, slowing down. “Looks like tonight’s gonna be rough for her.”

Paige’s eyes narrowed as they drew closer. She caught the tail end of Azzi snapping at Caroline and Kaitlyn, her voice low but heated. “Marcus bailed on me. Again. Said he’s ‘busy’ or some bullshit. Like, who the hell gets ‘busy’ on a free day that we had plans on ?”

Caroline exchanged a quick glance with Kaitlyn. “That sucks, Az. He’s been weird lately.”

Azzi threw her hands up, then stopped mid-step when she spotted Paige and Aubrey approaching.

Paige kept her expression neutral, even cold. Aubrey gave a quick, awkward smile and stepped forward slightly.

“Hey guys… Sorry about earlier,” Aubrey said softly, glancing between them. 

Caroline forced a smile but didn’t say much. Kaitlyn nodded, eyes wary but understanding. “It’s ok. We get it.”

Azzi’s glare didn’t soften as Paige passed close by. “Whatever,” she snapped, voice sharp.

Paige didn’t respond. Instead, she kept walking, muscles tense but refusing to give Azzi the satisfaction of a reaction.

Aubrey caught up beside her, muttering, “You and Azzi are really building something special.”

Paige huffed out a humourless laugh, eyes still hard. “Yea. Mutual hatred. It’s beautiful.”

As they disappeared down the walkway toward their dorms, the weight of the tension between the 2 groups lingered in the cooling air unspoken but undeniable.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[rubiehart]

bluecollar!jj surprises you with a kitten…

summary: jj knows you’ve been a little down lately and he knows exactly what’ll cheer you up…

warnings: happy tears!! mentions of baby blues (not quite ppd), cute fluffiness with an emotional momma.

blurbs n’ other thoughts for this pairing found here!

it was a spontaneous thing, much like every other choice jj made, but it had been a long time coming considering you’d occasionally teased the idea of adding a new little addition to your family, a puppy or a kitten or even a guinea pig since you’d first gotten together - a pipe dream back then, as a couple of dirt poor 17 year old pogues, but not so much anymore.

youd had the baby blues real bad for the past few weeks - emotional and prone to tears at pretty much anything, juggling a three year old and a seven month old alone proving difficult whilst jj was away at work, so it wasn’t like you didn’t deserve a little something to cheer you up, and also because jj couldn’t stand seeing those teary eyes one more day.

he’d stopped off at some little rescue shelter on his way home from work, scoured the assortments of sweet fur babies, all gazing up at him with these big eyes and if he could he’d have taken all of them home, you’d probably love that. you always were a sweetheart like that, an angel to any and every animal.

but when his eyes landed on that little kitten - cowered in the corner of his little pen, isolated from the rest of his litter who were jostling and pawing at their mama, looking up at jj with big blue eyes, little scraps of hay stuck to his snow white fur.. jj knew. that’s the one.

when he gets home, it’s quiet. he presses the front door closed with his shoulder, it clicks softly in the latch, the scent of laundry detergent and lavender fills his nose, his body buzzing with excitement as he toes off his boots, trying to be as quiet as he can be, plastic wrapping of the bouquet he’d bought rustling where they’re tucked under his arm, kitty wriggling and meowing softly, so tiny he could be held in jj’s one hand.

he calls your name softly down the hallway, aware of the sleeping kiddos, floorboards creaking under his socked feet as he moves further into the house. “where you at, momma? you awake?”

“yea, comin’.” your voice comes soft from down the hallway, flat with that low bubbling sadness that seems to linger lately, it pulls on his heart strings just as the bedroom door opens, soft lamp light bleeding into the otherwise dark hallway.

your cotton nightgown swishes around your thighs as you pad softly towards him, eyes not registering exactly what you’re seeing through your sleepy haze.

he’s grinning all excited, lifting his hand gently as if to emphasise the little wriggling ball of fur as your eyes widen, hands clasping around your mouth in shock.

you sorta stand there for a second, not quite believing it and it doesn’t take long before the tears are flowing, moving quickly towards jj, eyes on the little kitten, snow white fur rippling as it wriggles in jj’s gentle grip.

“j… you didn’t.” when you finally speak it’s shaky and breathy, tears flowing down your flushed cheeks as you reach for the little kitty, hands shaky, jj gently supporting it’s small body as it cuddles up against your chest with a soft purr.

“what’dya think, huh?” he asks softly, breathy laughter in his tone at how sweetly emotional you’re getting, cradling the sweet kitty in your arms, kissing its furry head gently, nose burrowing into the softness. “you love ‘er? she ain’t gotta name yet, she’s all yours to name…”

“she’s really mine..? you promise?” you ask softly, looking up at him with teary eyes, socked feet shuffling against the floor, not knowing what to say or how to thank him, sniffling softly as he nods, eyes gentle.

“all yours momma, we got enough stuff for tonight but we can go shoppin’ tomorrow, get her some nice food.. lady said she likes all canned tuna n’ stuff, some toys… whatever you want.” he murmurs quietly, cautious of your soft cries and watery eyes incase they were to wake the kids, leading you gently by the small of your back to sit down on the couch, pulling you into his lap, back to his chest, lips pressing to your bare shoulder, breathing you in as you hold your kitty close, and it’s looking like you’re never gonna put her down, already attached at the hip to the snowy furred angel.

“love her so much.. thank you, j… love her n’ love you…” you shift a little to kiss him, soft and gentle, sweet like honey on your tongue, his hard calloused hands gentle on your soft jaw when you pull away, swiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb as he murmurs softly, looking into your soft, so much more than grateful eyes.

“love you more. anythin’ for you’, m’girl.”

[ravenromanova]

Make you mine

Parings: Bucky x Female reader

Warnings: SMUT DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18+! Slight metal arm kink, Breeding kink, Unprotected sex. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE UNDERAGE

Summary: You try to cut off things with Bucky but he has other plans.

Kinktober masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!

~

The room was thick with tension and your heart was beating in your ears. You knew the arrangement you knew it was just sex so why did it hurt everytime he left? It hurt because you loved him even though you know you shouldn’t.

“I’ll see you after my mission Doll” He says quickly pulling up his pants along with throwing his shirt back on. Your eyes are stuck on him as he gathers his stuff from your room. He walks over and kisses your head before leaving…that’s new you thought to yourself.

“Yea” Was all you managed to say as you watched him leave your room. With a heavy sigh you lay back against your pillows and try not to cry. You felt so stupid, so weak, so pathetic for falling for him. You knew you needed to put a stop to this and you were going to do so when he came back.

Hours went by and you showered before making your way to the kitchen. When you walked in you were greeted with Natasha and Sam sitting at the island sipping their coffee.

“Hey sunshine” Natasha smiled at you while Sam smiled and greeted you as well.

“Morning guys” You said faking a happy tone and smile. Luckily for you they didn’t notice anything off with you and if they didnt say anything. So you just went about making your coffee and went to go sit outside by the lake out back.

The sun felt nice on your skin but not too much to overheat you due to the cool wind blowing by. A smile settles on your face as you watch the ducks by the lake and enjoy the caramel flavored coffee. While you sat there you got lost in your thoughts and started thinking about him. You couldn’t feel anything other than sadness was over your as you thought of him.

After about fifteen minutes of thinking you decided that you really needed to cut whatever this was off when he got back tomorrow from his mission. You couldn’t keep pretending you weren’t in love with him anymore. Once you figured out what you were going to say to him you decided to head back inside.

You walked back inside and went straight to your room without talking to anyone not wanting to be social at the moment. And when you walked into your room your eyes widened at the sight in front of you. There were rose petals on the bed, candles littered your shelves and desk. And the last thing you noticed was Bucky standing at the end of your bed.

“Bucky what is this? I thought you were on a mission?” You asked and he just smiled and walked closer.

“I was” He said taking your hands in his. “And now i’m just finishing it” You shot him a confused look clearly not getting what he was saying. “My mission is to make you mine” His voice was genuine as he spoke.

“B-But you said you didn’t want a relationship” Confusion and anxiety were laced in your voice. Bucky took his fingers and tilted your head back so you looked at him.

“I was wrong… I do want a relationship…One with you” His words got you like a truck and you’re eyes up with tears.

“I-I” The words come or broken and stuttered as you speak. Bucky takes this as his chance to show you how much he loves you. He takes your face in his hands and brings you into a deep and passionate kiss. Instinctively you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He uses this as an opportunity and grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up. Your legs wrap around his waist as he pins you against the wall.

The kiss is the most passionate kiss the two of you have ever shared. It was messy, heated and filled the air with extreme tension. You started to grind yourself against his crotch once you felt the bulge in his pants.

“Fuck doll you keep doing that i won’t be able to control myself” He grunted in your ear.

“Maybe i want you to lose control” You whisper against his lips and his eyes darken at your words.

“Fuck it” Bucky said and before you knew it you were thrown into your bed. He wasted no time in settling on top of you. His strong hands moved their way to your body before he ripped off your shirt. You gasped when his metal hand gripped your clothed chest. Bucky reached behind your back and unclamped your bra and rolled at your bare chest.

“So fucking pretty” He praised kissing your chest making you blush. Even though he’s probably fucked to over a hundred times by now you never ceased to amaze him. He took his time and worshipped each of your breasts leaving marks in his path before moving down.

“Please” You whined as you felt his hands travel down to the hem of your shorts. His metal hand slipped under both your shorts and underwear making you jump slightly.

“So wet bunny” He chided with a smile when he felt your slick cover his fingers. His flesh hand ripped off your shorts and underwear leaving you completely bare under him.

“Please Jamie please fuck me” You beg gripping onto his broad shoulders. Bucky smiled down and gave you a quick kiss before riding himself off his clothes. You couldn’t help but stare at the man in front of you, he was the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. His toned chest and abs, The most crystal blue eyes, Long dark hair that you adored he was truly a work of art.

His hand roommate your body and gripped your hips as he admired the beautiful woman in front of him. “If we do this…it’s not like the other times understand me? You’re mine babygirl” He said with a softer tone than he’s been using.

“I’m yours Jamie” Those words leaving your mouth unlocked something primal in him and he wasted no time in pushing into you. Your hands flew to his shoulders when you felt his thick cock stretch you out. It had only been a day since you two last fucked but it always feels like wells with how big he is.

“So fucking tight baby” He grunted as he bottomed out hitting your g-spot. Your head flew back from the immense pleasure you felt. Bucky thrusted into you hard and with passion making your orgasm approach faster than anticipated.

“Fuck yes right there baby” You moaned feeling the tip of his cock hit that special spot over and over. Bucky’s grasp on your hips became tighter as his orgasm approached as well. The room was filled with the noises of skin slapping and the wet sounds of your soaked pussy. And the air was thick with the smell of sex and Bucky’s cologne.

“Gonna fill you up bunny. Gonna fucking breed this tight pussy” He groaned as his thrusts began to falter. Your orgasm ripped through your abs your back arched as you came with a scream. Bucky’s orgasm came right after yours and he made good on his word and filled you up.

“Oh fuck Jamie” You moaned when he fucked his seed into you making sure none would leak out.

“Gonna make you a mommy” He said before he pulled out of you with a soft groan. The both of you were panting messes as you laid on your bed. After he caught his breath he pulled you on top on him and gave you a kiss.

“I love you y/n. I’m sorry i pushed you away. I’m sorry i made you feel like i didn’t want to. I love you more than anything and i swear to you is you’re mine i’ll make it up to you everyday of my life” He said genuinely as his thumb rubbed your cheek.

Hearing those words from him made your heart swell and your eyes water. “I love you too Bucky” You said tearfully bringing him into a deep yet soft kiss. Everything you’ve ever wanted is fully coming true and you couldn’t be happier.

That night the two of you proved your love for each other in every way possible. He told you throughout the whole night just how much he loved you. And you told him just how much he meant to you before you two fell into a blissful sleep.

~The end ~

[barbiiecams]

baby trapping bfb!rafe omg 😖. it would most definitely be an accident, but now you could finally claim him. you weren’t so opposed to the fact of getting pregnant with his baby beforehand, but because sarah was genuinely your friend, you made sure not to for the time being.

now rafe? he’d be so mad yet happy at the same time. he was very reluctant to even take off the condom off with you, and this seemed like the consequence to his actions.

“right there!” you moaned out as he hit the perfect spot inside of you.

“yea? right there?” he’d taunt, smirking down at the position he had you in. he pulled out for a second which almost made you cuss him out, but then lifted one of your legs in the air and held it by the back of your thigh, plowing his way back in again.

this made your eyes roll so far back you were almost positive they got stuck for a hot minute.

“that’s the spot, huh baby?” he’d lean over and say into your ear. not being able to form words, all you could do was nod. but there was something you desperately wanted from all this.

he’d been folding you up, throwing you around and switching positions all night. and he knew exactly how you liked it. it’s like he could seriously do no wrong. all though this whole situation was wrong, you still seemed to forget that this was your friends brother. someone who’s supposed to be off limits.

but we can’t help who we like, right?

he definitely didn’t care though, matter of fact, his dirty talk never stopped about it. “yea? that feel good being fucked by your friend’s brother? imagine if she saw us now. shit, i finally wouldn’t have to hide my girl.”

and he just continues.

“yea rub that clit baby. soak this cock.”

“keep taking it baby, know you can.”

“let go baby, cum all over it.”

as soon as he felt your release, his came up not too long after.

“shit, you feel too good. gonna make me blow mine soon.” this right here is when you ask for whatever, knowing how easy it is for them to say yes when they’re balls deep, seconds away from nutting.

“inside me? please!” you’d grab onto his shoulders, while his arms were now pressing your hip down into the bed.

his movement doesn’t slow, but his face says the answer as well as his words. “you know we can’t. convincing me to go raw wasn’t enough?”

“i just wanna feel you… all full inside me.” you’d say, almost choking on your words the way he’s still milking out your orgasm.

“i’ll cum in your ass. how about that?”

“s’not the same! please, rafe. just once?”

he doesn’t answer for a little bit, but the way his face starts to scrunch up, he was bound to cum in a few seconds.

“fine,” he finally says. “better fuckin take it all.”

right after that, his hot and heavy flow streams right into you, making your brain feel like complete mush.

after a few moments of just laying there, he pulls out and lays down next to you, pulling your head into his chest. “won’t be leaving you alone anytime soon with a pussy like that.” he chuckles, & you playfully hitting his chest.

—

the only thing that brought you was a world full of trouble. because here you are now, sitting on the toilet with a nauseous stomach, and positive stick in your hand to top it off. this most definitely was not supposed to happen, but you didn’t feel that bad about it either.

taking a picture of it in your hands, you sent it to rafe then put your phone down and held your stomach again. you didn’t even need that pregnancy test. the way you were throwing up buckets confirmed it by itself.

not even 5 minutes later, he texts you back.

“didn’t i tell you it was a bad idea? now how are you gonna tell sarah, cus im not.”

now that was definitely something you weren’t thinking about in the heat of the moment.

[humpster35]

The Summer I Met You

Toxic!Bf Matt x Soft!Blackgirl Reader

Part Two

|Contains: cheating, manipulation, slight physical abuse, alcohol and unprotected sex

The walk to the beach felt calming. I watched as the people passing by me all looked so consumed in their own thoughts. I wondered what they were thinking about? Did they feel this emotional after a comment? Do they love the ocean as much as I do?

After exhaling in and out, I finally reached my destination. It felt cold but in a way that made me feel at home. Growing up, back at home there wasn’t an ocean around or not too many beaches. But here…I feel so free. My body is laying in the sand, becoming one with it while the air blowing on my skin mimics my breathing. This is what I came here for, not him. I shouldn’t have slapped him.

In my head I knew what he said was wrong, but he had also been clearly drinking. Fuck. My conscious is guilty. Maybe if I had just ignored him i’d be in Chris’s room now. All you do is run away Y/n. It’s all you’ve known. You even ran away from your hometown. For what?

Sitting up, I looked straight ahead into the dark clouds. Everything was so blue, so deep. I wanted nothing more than to escape there. But I couldn’t, because this was reality and dreams don’t come true. I’m suddenly pulled out of my thoughts when I feel someone fall onto me.

“Hey-.” I started to say but then noticed how attractive the guy laying across my lap was.

“Shit. Sorry bout that.” He stood up and dusted off his blue shorts. He had brown hair, tan skin and the most gorgeous brown eyes i’ve ever seen.

I watch as he sticks his left hand out to greet me.

“Names Hamzah. I didn’t mean to fall on you.” He smiled showing all his teeth. The backwards hat on his head made some of his curls peak out as I took his hand and shook it.

“I’m Y/n. Also you’re fine, I was just uhm.” I looked straight ahead again as the wind blew in my curls.

Hamzah stuck his head forward and looked to where I was looking before looking back at me.

“You were what?”

Realizing how I zoned out I quickly composed myself and shook my head smiling.

“Nothing. Sorry-. I’m just here for the beach.”

“The beach? This your first time?” Hamzah picked up a volleyball that landed in the sand next to us. He only needed one hand to hold it. The bracelets around his wrist made me interested.

“What’s that?” I pointed to his wrist.

Hamzah looked down and smiled. He then brought his wrist up giving me permission to hold it.

“This.” He pointed to a beige colored bracelet that had the word “Martin.” written on it.

“This is a gift my friend gave me.Yea he’s an idiot sometimes and it was for a video.”

I nodded and then let go of his wrist. Oh so must be a youtuber also. I wouldn’t have known of him anyways, Nick told me that I should only watch their videos. But I never got around to it, due to working three jobs to save up money. Nick was the one who paid for my flight out here. I really am grateful for him.

“Oh it’s really cool.”

I sat back down and Hamzah sat next to me.

“Aren’t you gonna go finish the game?” I chuckled.

Hamzah smiled and threw the ball behind him.

“Nah. I think I wanna stare at this view a little longer.” I watched his eyes stare deep into mine. My heart was racing and I nodded.

“Yea I love the ocean too.” I spoke quietly now as the sky got even more darker, making only the street lights visible.

Hamzah stared at Y/n and observed the way her hair blew in the wind, the way her eyes steadied only on the chaotic waves and he let out a low laugh.

“Yea. I was talking about the ocean.”

Narrative Pov:

Hamzah grabbed y/n’s hand and pulled her to the ocean. They both shared a laugh as the waves hit the soles of their feet. The wind blowing hard made some water go into Hamzahs eye. As y/n laughed, Hamzah couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. The sky was turning into an intricate pink and purple color, highlighting y/n’s brown skin.

This is what she needed. Y/n needed to get her mind off of anything negative and just enjoy life. Hamzah was helping her do that and for that, she knew she could trust him. She grabbed his body, pulling him closer as a huge wave hit their right side in the background. Hamzah laughed hysterically and every other sound in the world became mute.

After being in the water for ten minutes, the pair walked back to the beach. The pink and purple had disappeared and in came the night sky. Y/n sat next to Hamzah and looked back into the ocean. It was like she was observing the place they had been.

It was a comforting silence between the two as they watched the waves clash into the rocks. The wind blew harder which made Y/n shiver.

“Hey do you want my hoodie?” Hamzah asked while already taking it off.

Y/n looked at him and nodded. She didn’t think anything of it and just thought that he was being nice.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Hamzah smiled softly at her and put an arm around her. Y/n let him and the pair stayed liked this for awhile until Y/n got a text.

unknown number

~where are you?

Y/n Pov:

Who was this? I just bought this phone and only gave my number to Nick. Could it be him? After looking at my phone screen I watched as the number started typing again

unknown number is typing……..

~look just tell me where you are. Nick told me to come pick you up

Hamzah looked at me concerned. I awkwardly smiled at him.

“Will you excuse me for a moment?”

I got up, still wearing his hoodie and got ready to call whoever this was.

Phone call:

Y/n~ Hello?

UN~ Yea? Where the hell are you, Nicks worried. I told him what happened

I paused in my tracks hearing Chris’s voice. I had ran away without even telling Nick I was going out. Was he gonna be mad at me? Shit. I better get home now.

Y/n~ Oh fuck. I’m sorry Chris. Yea I just came to the beach and I didn’t mean to slap Matt—.

Chris~ It’s okay. He’s not even mad. What he said was wrong and I should’ve stuck up for you

It got silent for a minute

Chris~ Please come home. Nick misses you

Y/n~ I know and i’m sorry if I made him upset.

Chris~ I…I also miss you

Y/n~…….

Chris~…….

Hamzah stands up and walks next to me. He smiles at me and takes some sand out of my hair. I muttered a quiet “thank you”

Y/n~ Okay well i’m on the way there.

Chris~ It’s dark outside I’ll pick you up-.

Y/n~No no you don’t have to do that

Chris~ How will you get back then?

Hamzah grabbed my phone and held it up to his ear before speaking.

Hamzah~ Hi. I just met Y/n but I can assure you that she will get there safely

Chris~……Who the fuck are you?

Hamzah~ I’m her friend…I think?

Laughing in the background, I nodded at him and then took the phone back.

Y/n~ Chris okay i’ll be there in like 10

Chris~ Okay.

End of Call

Y/n’s PoV

Ohmygod that was so amazing. I never thought that I would meet anyone else besides Nicks friends. But I guess L.A has more to offer than just mopey sad guys and pollution. After saying my goodbyes to Hamzah, because I decided to just walk back, I watched a car pull up.

Thinking nothing of it, I continued walking up the hill almost reaching the docks to head home. I walked about three steps until I hear a car horn blaring.

“Get in the car.”

My body froze. I knew exactly whose voice that was. What was he doing here? How did he even know I would be here? Why was he picking me up and not Chris? Then I remembered I asked Chris not to come get me.

Narrative PoV:

Matt got out of his car and walked to y/n. He noticed she was now wearing a dark blue hoodie that obviously didn’t belong to her. It fit loosely on her small frame. His eyes never left hers and he simply grabbed her by the wrist and started walking with her, back to the car.

Y/n’s PoV:

I stopped walking.

“Wait Matt.”

I watched him turn around. His hand was still holding my wrist in it as delicately as possible. For some reason I thought he would be much rougher with me, but he wasn’t.

“Why did you stop walking?” Matt’s voice was low and he didn’t smell like alcohol anymore. He clearly had showered and got himself ready to come and get me. But why?

“I wanted to say i’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you, that’s not like me.” My voice came out shakily and I anxiously played with the strings of Hamzahs hoodie.

Matt noticed this and scoffed to himself. I felt as he let go of my wrist and run a hand through his brown hair.

“I didn’t even feel it. Now let’s go before Nick starts an amber alert.”

I laughed and nodded. Matt smiled softly at me and we both finished walking to the car. Once inside to my surprise, was a girl with tannish skin and long brown hair. She was beautiful.

Matt looked back at me in the backseat and smirked.

“Oh right. This is Madison. You two havent met right?” His voice was cocky and obnoxious as I watch him pull out a piece of gum from the front of his car. There was a pack of condoms visible also.

Madison smiled softly at me before speaking.

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you. Matt told me he had to pick up Nicks little friend. That must be you right?”

Her eyes shot daggers at me but her tone was soft which left me confused. Sending her a simple nod, Matt started driving home. During the whole car ride, I watched as Matt’s hand would rest on the high part of Madison’s thigh and she would bite her lips at him.

I don’t know why this bothered me so much, but I just turned my attention back outside of the window. The speed at which Matt drove was intoxicating. It’s the perfect amount of slow and fast. I liked whenever he went over a bump, he would let out a low “shit.” This made my body heat up. I had to let these thoughts go though, I glanced back to the couple in front of me and saw Matt’s eyes already looking at me from the mirror.

“Y/n when you get here you go to the room on the right. That’s the room you’ll be staying in.” Matt spoke with authority and clearness. The red light we were at felt like it lasted for an hour. Meanwhile, Madison applied more lipstick and fixed her dress.

“Okay.” I quietly said and felt Matt’s hand rub my knee. He smiled softly at me before turning his attention to Madison and kissing her. While his hand was still on my knee.

Feeling uncomfortable and awkward I try to move Matt’s hand away but he just keeps it there and when Madison moves to kiss his neck he says “good girl.” But he was staring at me the whole time.

“Matt can you guys do that when i’m out of the car?”

Matt rolled his eyes and removed his hand from my knee.

“Don’t be such a prude y/n. Have you never seen someone kiss before?” This causes Madison to giggle and me to blush. I looked down at my lap and thought about Hamzah. Did I wanna kiss him?

Matt noticed this and clenched his jaw. It’s like he knew how to get in my mind. He continued driving until he finally arrived to the apartment.

“We’re here. You can get out now.” Matt blankly spoke as he looked straight ahead.

I didn’t even respond to him, I got out and slammed the door. Hearing Matt’s car pull off I sigh and got ready to open the door.

tag list:

@mattsweethart @mattspillowprincess @hannahsturniolo @chrissonnyangel @bluestriips @billieslittlecumslut @bernardsbendystraws @passionfruitchris @kenah-sturniolo @liaisbroke @lyingonchris @lifecansmd @mattsgirl23 @riggysworld

part one

[missbuckyhellfire]

Stormy Evening : Robert Reynolds/ Void X Female OC (NSFW)

Plot: During a rainstorm, Valentina's assistant, Athena is caught inside the New Avengers Tower with the Thunderbolts. They decide to have a movie night with her but eventually leave the room one by one until it is just Bob and her.

Warnings: This is smut so NSFW content, Void will make an appearance in this, Thunderbolts are a warning on their own, Rough intercourse, oral sex, orgasm refusal, praise kink, language, Robert getting jealous, Fluff, Make Out Session, Getting caught, Thunderbolts (minus Robert) playing matchmaker, Bondage, Toxic dynamics, Semi-noncon, MINORS BE GONE

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

My eyes looked at the raindrops drizzling down the glass in my office. The dark clouds engulfing the city looked so dark, yet so mesmerizing. I always found myself fascinated with the darkness of nature. It was so deadly, but there is always a soft light to it.

 I stapled the last one of the countless papers that Val given me to finish. I looked at the time on my phone which followed with a warning on my cell.

HEAVY RAINFALL AND THUNDERSTORM WARNING

DUE TO HEAVY RAIN FALL AND THE CHANCE OF THUNDER AND LIGHTENING, IT IS RECOMMENDED TO GO OUTDOORS. STORM WILL END AROUND 3:35 am.

It was only 8:00 pm.

I sigh heavily at the time. I really didn’t want to bother the Thunderbolts for longer than I need to. So for a while, I decided to just stay on my phone and play some games until I hear a knock on the door. Slowly I get up from my chair and open the door to see Robert and his brown puppy dog eyes. He was wearing a cozy black sweater and sweat pants. .His hair appeared to be quite messy.

To say that I had a crush on him would be an understatement. He was adorable, reminded me of a lost puppy but had the biggest heart on the team. He was always to sweet towards me.

He looked down sheepishly and fumbled with the fabric on his hoodie before he looked back up to me.

“Didn’t think you would still be here. Val got you crammed with stuff?” He flashed a weak smile.

I nod at him slowly. “Just finished, I got the message on my phone, so I guess I am stuck here for a bit.”

“Listen the group and I were going to have a movie marathon, and we were wondering if you would like to head down and watch something with us.” He said.

“I shouldn’t intrude on your personal team time..” I began.

“No, we want you here, “ He put his hands up.

“Ok.” I really didn’t have anywhere else to be and it was an excuse to spend time with Bob.

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

I made my way downstairs and had the entire team have their eyes on me with bright grins. Usually they all didn’t t smile unless they were up to something. I raised my brow at them as I head downstairs.

Yelena was the first to speak. “You don’t have a hoodie or sweater or something comfortable to wear?”

I shrug “Didn’t think I would be staying over till like 3 am so.” I was wearing a black dress with my hair held up by a clip.

“Nonscience, you can sleep over here. You got to be here anyways for that press meeting.” John said flashing a wink. This caused Bob to flash a glare at him.

“Are you sure? I don’t even have anything to wear. Does anyone have anything I could wear?” I asked looking at Ava and Yelena who both shook their heads.

“No I don’t have anything, maybe Bob has something you can borrow.” They glance at him. He paused for a moment then nodded. “

“Yea sure I must have something for you.” He said as he took my hand and brought me upstairs to his room.

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

I follow him upstairs to his room. The walls were a neutral grey with comfy carpet. His walls had framed photos of the team. I walked around a bit and found a picture of mine on his nightstand.

The photo was me at a gala event, wearing a purple cocktail dress with my dark hair curled at the tips. Bob noticed I froze at the picture, and he cleared his throat.

“I keep pictures of those dear to me here, I didn’t get the chance to get your photo yet.” He chuckled, trying to brush off his nervousness. “Let me see if I can find something for you Athena.”

He walked around the room and opened some drawers to find something for me to wear. The strong scent of vanilla and mint came to my me, which smelt familiar. Then in dawned to me.

It was the smell of my perfume that I use everyday.

“The aroma smells a lot like the perfume that I wear every day.” I begin. Bob has found a white shirt and grey sweatpants.

“Really I didn’t notice, here are some things for you to try on.” He said giving them to me. He glances at me for a moment then turns around to let me get dressed.  I get dressed then clears my throat to let him know he can turn around.

“Those look cute on you.” He said as he opened the door to guide me downstairs. I still was puzzled about the picture and the perfume scent in his room. I pulled the top close to me and it smelt like him.

Musky, woodsy and a hint of lemon.

“Clothes smell like you.”

He looked at me as though I may have offended him.

“No, no that’s a good thing. I like how you smell” I said which made him chuckle.

"Well then I am happy you like it then." He smiled gesturing towards the door. Before we did, we watched the flash of lightening by his window followed by a loud clash of thunder.

I usually wasn't so jumpy, but around Bob I was a bit. He quickly took my hand in a reassuring way.

"Hey I got you ok?" He said in a soft comforting tone.

I nod as we made the way downstairs. I really did feel safe around him.

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

The group decided to have a Star Wars marathon of the original three movies as Bucky hasn’t seen them.  Bob and I were sitting on the couch sharing a blanket as conveniently there weren’t two blankets available just the one.

I was still wondering about the picture and the smell in his room though. However, I wasn’t complaining being so close to Bob. He was mere inches from me as we were all crammed on the couch together.

Bucky was on my right side and Bob was on my left. Ava, Alexi, John were on separate chairs while Yelena was on Bob’s left. Bucky and Yelena both would exchange looks at each other occasionally.

“So, uh Athena,” Bucky finally spoke. “Have you texted your boyfriend or girlfriend you aren’t coming back home or….”

“No partner. I haven’t dated for a few months since I started. This job is quite time consuming.”

“We are a lot to handle.” Yelena joked. “So no one in the picture.”

“Well one but I don’t think they know.” I looked down at my feet. My heart sank thinking I may have said too much.  I felt Bob have his hand on my knee. It was a surprise but welcomed.

“Oh? Come on you are smart, patient and not too bad on the eyes.” John said. Bob shot him a look. “I am just saying that if who ever she likes doesn’t do anything about it, then I just might.”

I felt the grip on my knee intensify, I watch his face, but no bad emotion reflected on it.

“John enough, you wouldn’t have the balls to handle her.” Ava chuckled as the rest of the group; Bob included laughed.

“Why what’s wrong with a bit of friendly competition?”  He laughed for a moment, and everyone gave him a glare. I didn’t know what was going on with them.

“Honestly, John you aren’t my type so don’t get your hopes up.” I shrug at him. The group laughed in response. I glance over at Bob who appeared to be slightly relieved but kept his eyes on John.

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

Eventually, the entire group started making their leave. Making excuses one by one that they had something to see or do or even that they were too tired to make it through the evening. When Yelena and John, the last two took their leave, I finally spoke up.

“Where is an extra room  for me to sleep, or I could sleep on the couch?” I asked.

“Oh! Uh, we don’t have an extra room so uh you may need to sleep on the couch.” Yelena shrugged.

“I could sleep on the couch.” I began.

“Urg the couch is so uncomfortable to sleep on Athena. You need something better than that. You could always share my room with me. We could always share a bed and you know….”  Before John could finish his perverse ways, Bob spoke up.

“Athena will sleep with me. Not with me, but she can take the bed, and I can sleep on the floor.” Bob stated and the group seemed to have agreed with the solution provided.

“So it’s settled, I need to head upstairs and get some shut eye. We have a busy day tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late Bob.” Yelena shot Bob a wink before she went upstairs.

“If he doesn’t treat you right, you know where I am” John said as he made his way upstairs.

“Ass” Bob muttered under his breath and I chuckle in response.

Now it was just the two of us.  

Bob looked over at me then found me watching him for a moment. I was in deep thought wondering about the team and why Bob was using the same perfume I use to fragrant his room.

“You ok?” He asked.

“Ya, I should get some sleep.” I say as I heard the storm brewing even more intense outside due to the silence between us.

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

Bob brings me to his room and he grabs some spare blankets from his closet to makeshift a bed for the evening.  When asked, he said he didn’t want any type of help and he would manage.

I plopped  my body onto the bed and sigh at the softness of his mattress. The smell of my perfume remained in the air, and it was really comforting and I already found myself starting to drift off to sleep.

I was grateful that Bob had decided to let me stay with him. I don’t know if I could share of room with John, especially with his advances he had earlier. The team was also acting strange around me, being too friendly and sweet. Most of the time, they are somewhat grumpy, but most times I am around Valentina.

“Thanks for letting me share your room Bob, I appreciate it.” I say, I could hear it in my voice I was starting to dose off.

There was no response.

I opened my eyes for a moment and looked around the room. I found the room completely dark now. At first, I assumed that Bob had already turned off the lights. However, when I saw him, I knew there was something else that was lingering in the room and it wasn’t Bob.

 A dark figure was in the room, similar silhouette to Bob, but it wasn’t him. There were no features of him there. Only the curves of his body, but much sharper. In place of his eyes were two white spots of oblivion.

“Didn’t think you would see me again, did you?”  He spoke.

I did remember him. A few months back before I got hired, I was working at a coffee shop by the Avengers building. During my break, when I seen him. Hovering above the city watching us all like ants. Around me, one by one everyone was enveloped in this darkness, turning into nothing but shadows.  I wasn’t chosen, but I felt his presence on me that day, just like I do now.

“Bring Bob back,” Were the first words out of my mouth.

“Oh why would I do that?  Bob wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you.” The voice spoke, giving a soft chuckle at the end.

“Come on, you know he is the one that I want, not you.” I state crossing my arms. I felt my confidence start to fall as he came closer to me. The void already knew what I wanted and he wasn’t going to let me get it that easily.

“Oh he wants you too believe me, he just is too much of a coward to ask for it.” I felt my hands started to get bound. I looked to the bedframe to see that my hands were wrapped in a dark matter.

I felt his hand grab my jaw to force me to look at him. I did stare into those faint white orbs as I continued to hear the storm clash with rain drizzling down the window.

“Eyes are on me at all times understand?” His touch was harsh but with meaning. He pulled the sheets off of the bed and sighed at the clothed lower half of my body.”Take em off”

“No.” I told him. “Bring Bob back.”

I found my lower half completely bare in that instant. His dark hands grazing on my core hearing a whimper.

“You know, Bob and I didn’t like how John was flirting with you, ” The void purred as he pressed his thumb on my clit, I let out a gasp in response.

“I rejected him there was nothing to it.”

“Bob didn’t think so, he thought that John would have stolen you away from him. He’s been trying to have his composure lately, trying to be better for you. However, John was all what was needed for me to get out once again.”

I was speechless as he watched my reactions to his movements and words coming out of his mouth.  I tried to get out again, but the bonds were not budging.

“There’s no place for you to go. You are stuck here with me.” He said. “Now lie down and relax, pretend I’m him if you must.”

I didn’t think of it as a threat. Even though Bob wasn’t here, I could feel him around me. He was just in the room in the dark abyss of jealousy.

My lower lips were touched so gently by the void’s lips. They were so cold, and their touch harsh. His tongue swiped and devoured my pussy like he was a starving man, almost as though this was his final meal.

I felt like I was being too loud. My moans were echoing throughout the room and perhaps around the building. I really hoped the storm outside had muted what was going on.

Then came the familiar knot that began to bloom in my stomach the butterflies began to fully bloom, I felt myself getting close, my legs were trembling.

The void then pulled away.

I looked at him puzzled, angry. Why did he stop? I was so close.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head. ‘Just getting you ready is all pet.”

“Ready for what?” I began to ask before I felt something poke at my entrance. Before I could say anything he quickly thrusted his girthy cock inside of me, allowing me to release a heavy moan.

He chuckled at my response. “You are doing so well for me pet, you take taking me so well.”  The void pulled out then pushed back inside with even more force. I yelped as a response as I began to hear the bed headboard hit the wall as our movements got more intense. “Someone is going to hear.” I warn.

“Let em hear that their precious assistant is getting their brains fucked by the darkest matter by the planet.” This was personal to me, he wanted to make me feel small, inferior to him. This moment was bringing me back to the incident months ago.

I felt my skin get colder as my top vanished. He didn’t hesitate to grab my left breast and began sucking on it with his jaw wrapped around the flesh. I tried to look away but he held my jaw, forcing me to watch.

“I told you eyes on me the entire time.”  He warned as his grasp almost became bruising to my jaw. I nod at him, and the grasp lightens slightly as his two white orbs still focused on me as he sucked on my breast more intensely as he left a nearly black mark on my skin. He chuckled lowly at me as his movements gotten more frantic.

The room was silent, only our moans and his growls echoed in the room as I started to feel that familiar knot refused to me earlier.

His movements started getting sloppy as I felt the room getting darker around us. It started becoming pitch black, almost like a black void. He was moving way slower now, knowing he was close as well.

“Say I own you.”  He grabbed my hair harshly. 

I refused to answer to him. His grip tightened on my jaw again as I stared at his face. For a moment, I seen Bob, my Bob. Not this void in front of me.

“SAY I OWN YOU!” This was a threat under his breath.

The threat and the pressure on my body began to get overwhelming. My legs were shaking around him from the pleasure that he was giving me. I felt my body stuck on his now, he wanted me to finish with him.

“ATHENA I WILL DO IT AGAIN IF YOU DON’T…” He began but I silenced him. My body was getting too out of control.

“YOU OWN ME” I finally said as he pulled me close to his body as he kissed my mouth as we both finished together. He kept moving his body and hips with my body as we both ride our highs together. My moans had surrounded the entire room with my cheeks turning red from the amount of noise that I was making.

“That’s right, when you wake up, remember that.” He cusped my face one last time before he vanished into thin air, leaving me alone to recover and with my thoughts.

It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep afterwards.

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

When I awoke the next morning, I found Bob sleeping peacefully next to me. He grasped and hogged the blankets as he was in a fetal position facing me. There was sunny skies from the window as New York was preparing for a new day.

Bob looked so calm.

His arm was wrapped around my waist, pulling me close to him. His scent was extremely strong but welcoming.

My sudden shift of my body caused him to stir awake. His brown eyes looked at me in shock, like a deer in headlights as he realised, he was in bed with me.

“SHIT how did I get in your bed, I was on the floor….” He began to rub the back of his head nervously, not leaving eye contact with me. His eyes then scanned around my body then quickly darted away as his cheeks turned red. “WHY ARE YOUR CLOTHES GONE!?”

“You pal the void came by for a visit.” I said softly to him, which made his cheeks flush even a darker red.

“I am so sorry, he shouldn’t have come out. I thought I had him under control last night.” He avoided to make any type of eye contact.

“He did say a couple of things about you though.” I shrugged. I figured I should be honest with him.

“Whatever he said, don’t listen to him.” Bob warned me.

“Ok, “ I  didn’t want to pry him or put him on the spot. He seemed too much in a state of awkwardness.

Bob decided to glance back at my body again then noticed the black mark on my chest. “Shit, did he do this to you?” He lightly pressed on the mark and noticed how I winced. It was a bruise that was going to stay there for a while. “I am so sorry Athena, I didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“It’s alright Bob, sometimes emotions can take over what we truly want” I perched my lips. I didn’t want him to feel any guilt for what happened.

“What did he say to you exactly?” Bob asked. “I know we should take everything from that side of me with a grain of salt but….”

“He said you were jealous and angry towards John’s advances. Said you had feelings…” My voice was soft. His puppy dog brown eyes stared at me for a moment before he leaned closer to me. They glanced to my lips before he came even closer.

Before I could say another word, his lips were onto mine. Much softer than I could imagine. The touches were gentle more welcoming towards my body compared to the void’s. He parted his lips and looked at my neck almost as though asking for permission to give it a quick kiss.

I nod as he snuggles his head on the crook of my neck. Soft kisses tease my skin before he nips it more harshly. His eyes look back to me as I push my lips onto his this time.

Soft touches go to my breasts, grabbing them as he intensified the kiss.

“We need to take this slow.” He said as he began to slip off his shirt, showing off his physique: lean but muscular. “I don’t want to hurt you or let the void out….”

I nod as he continued to kiss me until we heard the door open. Bob tossed me the blanket to cover up. I panicked and covered the top of my body as they stood by the door. Bucky cleared his throat with John letting out a soft chuckle.

Bob knew that the bed was in view of the door so obviously they knew they saw them.

“We knocked, no one was opening the door.” Bucky shook his head. I pulled my covers closer to myself. “Didn’t think you would work so fast Bob…”

“I didn’t, it was Void, he…” Bob began as John interrupted him.

“Let a attractive girl in your bed naked? It is clear we interrupted something but Bob we need to go. So does Athena, we got a big day ahead of us.” He chuckled. They quickly closed the door and I heard something along the lines of “Thank god it worked.”

Now alone again, we both sighed. Reality once again separating us. Bob shook his head.

“We need to talk about us, I want there to be something more here.” Bob began and I nodded kissing him on the cheek.

“Tonight, I will take you wherever you want.” He continued as he stood up from his bed, glancing over my body once more. “Just not here, we need to talk in private, not with people spying on us.”

“We are not spying we are supporting you guys” I heard Yelena say from the other end of the wall.

I nod. “ I think I know a good Greek food place we could check out.”

“Perfect, I will pick you up at seven.” He pulled me close one last time before he put his costume on.

I never seen him smile so brightly.

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

[gushhyyy]

Happy birthday to me ꨄ

Synopsis: two’s company and three’s a party, luckily it’s Onys birthday.

An: as always thoughts will be italicized, without further a due hold on to your panties

Prompt: “this is beyond sex I’m high on you.” Dance for you by Beyoncé

Warnings and parings: blk!Ony x blk!reader (Junie) x stripper(Gina), drinking, smoking, descriptions of a strip club, making out, sloppy kissing, pussy eating, dick sucking, scissoring, doggystyle, cursing, and probably more that I didn’t catch

You and Jabari wouldn’t consider yourselves swingers but you liked to have fun, more often than not you had fun by yourselves but other times you’d invite others into your sexcapades. You guys had rules that you both stuck to make sure that everything was clear and everyone was safe.

1. Both parties must be attracted to the invitee

2. All parties would get tested before any fun took place.

3. Be open and honest at all times to all parties

4. There is no feelings other than sexual to be exchanged

It was simple and since you’d opened the door for these things, you guys had shared one person, it wasn’t that Jabari and you didn’t fulfill each other, far from it this was just fun for you both and if anyone wanted to close the relationship and stop then you would.

You and Jabari had started this after having an amazing night with a girl after getting lit at a club both agreeing to take her home. Afterward you’d both talked about doing it again leading to your agreement.

Standing in your section, front row of the stage the club was dark and lit up with the stage lights and the leds around the stage as beautiful women, strutted done-up and and pretty and did their best tricks on the stage. The floor littered with money the bouncers on the floor bagging everything and you plopping your juicy ass on Ony lap facing him looking him deep into his red and low eyes as he did the same.

Placing his hands on your ass, his fingers playing with the black thong you had on peaking at your waist from your brown shirt mini skirt that matched the cropped top and jacket, with some long black boot, leaning in pecking your lips three times pulling part feeling your lips buzz from both the henny and the kisses. Wrapping your hands around his neck leaning closer to his ear so he could hear you in the loud club.

“You enjoying your birthday papa.” You said in your sultry voice low, playful way that made his dick jump, he loved many things about you but your voice was number one. Nodding his head he gave a “yea baby you look so good tonight I can’t wait until we get home.” He said making you squirm in your seat (which was his lap).

Looking around as the music on the main stage got louder you saw a beautiful women slowly taking the stage her full body hugged by her gold outfit that criss crossed over her breasts and belly and wrapping around her plump thighs her belly piercing gleaming under the orangey bright lights that made it look like a sunset.

Her silky black hair with little pieces of glittering tinsel flowing around the pole getting to the very top before she spun around to the floor eyes singed with mine on her hands and knees she katwalked on her hands and knees to the very end of the stage biting her plump lips at you both. She was so close you could smell the Chanel on her amazing body. Damn looking over to Ony as if to say “I want her can we have her” he wasn’t to far behind already looking at you with the same eyes. Reaching over and placing a stack hundreds into the bands of her pretty outfit.

The dance had you both in a trance her eyes going between the both of you. Tension thick the way you were looking at her made her pussy wet the jewels in your mouth glistened along with your glossy lips that were smiling gently at her shifting back over to ony she left her heart beat faster at how he was looking at her having to remind herself she was at work she had to get herself together and finished out her dance before seductively walking off feeling eyes on her until she appeared into the dressing room.

“Girl what was that?” Cherry, Gina’s closets work friend asked her as soon as she stepped off stage and made it to the back.

“Girl they fine as shit and they both was looking at me.” She said giddy thinking about what just happened standing up and grabbing the money from out of her outfit.

“Girl that say 10 racks!” Cherry said looking at the two stacks in her friend’s hands. Smacking her teeth “damn girl I should’ve popped out tonight.” She said.

“Girl you would’ve popped your damn stitches.” Gina said locking her money in the portable safe said had it her locked locker. Cherry had gotten into a fight a few days ago with another stripper, strawberry over some money and long story short cherry ended up stepping on a broken bottle and splitting her foot open (true story).

“Journey you got a private group dance in the pink room.” Claudine the house mom said.

“After this can I be cut I gotta get home.” Gina said (Journey is her stage name).

“Yea you can go make sure you pay your stuff before you go.” She said walking off making Gina jump for joy. She had been at the club since seven pm and it was now going on three in the morning. Let’s get this over with her thought taking a quick shot at the bar.

Standing up and swishing her mouth with some mouth wash she had on hand she spritzed some more perfume and went to the pink rooms.

Walking in the room she saw the usual pink velvet couch and the white carpet floors with a pink glowing pole about a foot off the ground it sat on a heart shaped platform that was bolted to the floor.

She saw the couple from earlier and instantly felt bubble in her stomach, body buzzing at the sight of him how good the guy looked and how the girl already had her pussy wet.

“H-hey yall I’m Journey” it was cute to them show shy she was being after putting on such a show a few minutes ago.

“You ain’t got to be nervous Journey” the guy said Gina could tell that he was tall and had tattoos, looking at him in closer lighting her had plump lips, dimples and he was handsome.

“Yeah we just wanted another show just for us. I’m Junie and this is Ony but I call him papa.” She introduced looking me deep in my eyes I wished I didn’t take that shot of henny before coming back here.

Shaking off the nerves she fell into the music, her body just doing its on thing she felt good tonight she’d reached all her goals. She was really that girl swaying her body with Beyoncé.

“Wanna show you how much you got your girl feeling good”

Sliding up the long pole as she opened her long legs open like a split and slid am the way down slowly landing in the front of the couple legs still waiting for the best best before she popped her ass as she stood up.

“Wanna put my body in yo body

Promise not to tell no body.”

She was on one tonight sitting on Junie placing the girls manicured hands on her butt and grinding slowly and against her thighs it just felt so good she couldn’t stop. Locked into Junies eyes as they felt going as the song played out.

“Wanna make that body rock

Sit back and watch

Oh yes”

She needed to get out of here

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (8/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“You should stop hanging around people like me.” It’s said with a grunt of conviction, low and throaty and trying to sound too much like he didn’t care. Like it didn’t mean anything if you left him.

(The only reason you can tell is because Satoru does the exact same thing.)

And you only ever have a single reply to statements like that, despite all your confusion about the origins of such things.

“Nope.” You pop the ending sound, kicking your feet up as you finish off the rest of your crumbled snack, dusting your fingers of biscuit dust as you dab your hanky against your lips. “You’re stuck with me now.”

Just like how he’s stuck with you.

“What?” He lets out a dry laugh, disbelieved green eyes narrowed down at you as the scar on his lip stretches out into a lazy grin. “Don’t tell me ya think of me as a friend or somethin’?”

“No.” He’s partially wrong, you’re pretty sure. “Adults and kids can’t be friends.”

They’re not allowed to. Something about ethics, about danger, about candy and chocolate and not even your favourite pudding. You don’t remember the whole thing, but you know kids and adults are not allowed to mix together like that.

Not allowed to be like you, Suguru and Satoru.

That’s what your Mama always taught you. That it was for the best, that you should always be careful. So you definitely think you know better as your head is tilted to the side and you point a finger at him; before directing it at yourself with that familiar grin on your face.

“So you’re my teacher and I’m your disciple.”

“The fuck?”

Mhm. Sounds about right. You nod to yourself, a proud hand on your chin as you give a pat on your own back for not only sticking to Mama’s words, but also finally claiming the scariest, biggest kid-adult around as your mentor.

Things are going perfectly as planned.

“I’m gonna get as strong and as scary as you are so that nobody can ever mess with me again.”

That’s right. You’ll grow so strong that everybody would fear you just as much or even more than Satoru— Then they’ll finally like him more. Finally be able to talk to him because they’re more scared of you than they are him. Nobody can ever make fun of Suguru, talk badly about your Mama or better yet— You can be the one that beats up all the ‘piss ugly freaks who beg to have their faces pummelled in’ like Mister Teacher here always says.

(It’s totally fine because your teacher does it too, right?)

“And what makes ya think I’m gonna teach you anything, brat?”

Well, you haven’t really thought that one through. That’s a very good question. As expected of your teacher.

“Cause I’m helpful and cute.”

‘Helpful’. Also known as using the very last of your well-loved, wacky band-aid collection on him. Your absolute favourites that you just couldn’t bring yourself to use that had been offered up to him the times you see him collapsed against the bench and snoring away.

So you took the liberty of pouring water on his cuts and heartbreakingly parting with your precious, precious band-aids.

All is part and parcel of being a hero, anyway.

(And the cute part… Mama always tells you that you are, anyway.)

“I’ll even buy you those big protective gloves so you can stop hurting your hands when I’m older and have a job like my Mama.”

“Pfft— Yea? What are ya even gonna work as to afford those?”

You barely hesitate in your reply, the turn of your head far too quick as the apples of your cheeks show through your excited smile.

“A hero.”

“And if they don’t pay enough?”

Well. You never really thought about that. Does being a hero really not pay as well as you think? Come to think of it… You’ve never seen Sailor Moon get paid. It seems like being a magical girl doesn’t come with a celery.

(Can you really pay for things in vegetables? You’ll ask Mama to help you grow some. Even if you don’t want to eat them…)

“Justice will always be rewarded.”

And this Mister that you talk to too much finally starts laughing, slapping his knee as he starts howling with laughter and snorting through his nose. It was loud, it was free.

Without a care in the world.

“You’re one dumb fuckin’ kid, ain’t cha?”

At least he’s smiling again. Even if you’re pretty sure he was making fun of you as you pout at his head that was positioned too high up upon his shoulders.

(Or maybe his neck was too long?)

“You can’t say that if you’re my teacher!”

“Then ya can’t yell at me if y’er my disciple.”

——

Even if one good thing comes to fruition, you should never be too comfortable with what the future may have in store for you. Small, minuscule little things always add up to big ones, snowballing into a problem that you just didn’t foresee before it comes hurling down towards you.

That’s what the astrology charts said, anyway. You didn’t understand then, but you think you do now that it has really ‘come to fruition’. Surely, it couldn’t be any truer now as your hand is slapped away, the smack echoing throughout the playground as your eyes widen and your skin stings with a feeling too unpleasant.

“I don’t wanna hear it! Don’t talk! Be quiet!”

Usually, Satoru telling you to shut up in 3 different ways would be less hostile, would have less weight to them. Usually, those sky coloured eyes wouldn’t glare at you with so much hatred, wouldn’t have so much pressure that threatened to pummel you to your knees.

(Because this is still your Satoru, isn’t it?)

“B-But Ieiri-chan and I are—“

“How many times are you gonna break our promise?!” His face is dusted with red— Not the sweet cherry shade that you were used to seeing when he got embarrassed or shy. The air felt like it was pricking you, prodding at you uncomfortably as you shrink in on yourself whilst nursing the area that hurt way more than you thought.

That’s why it irritated your eyes so much, right? Did the air always smell so hostile? So uncomfortably angry and horrible and heartbreaking?

“I told ya so many times that you can’t be friends with anyone other than me! That you’re not allowed to betray me! That you promised me!” It came out as an angry squeak, something adults would probably laugh at— Yet it felt like he was hammering nails into your heart as a lump builds up in your throat and the thrumming of your heartbeat against your chest becomes too much.

“Are you even trying anymore?!”

He’s right. You’re fine with your classmates whispering things whenever you walked past, fine with their trailing eyes and quiet gossips about how you’re just kissing up, fine that they’ll never truly like you for you just because you chose to associate with the Gojo family.

But you never once thought that being called a horrible friend would hurt this much. It tore through you, guilt riddling your very being as you whimper and bite down on your lip, trying to steady your breaths as you tried not to cry.

Because do you even deserve to? You’re not the one who was hurt in this situation. You’re not the one who kept true to the promise you made all those years ago.

“I-I really—“ Really didn’t mean it. Truly. It’s not a secret that you want to be on friendly terms with anyone willing to talk to you, not a surprise that you’ve been waving to and greeting the easy-going girl whenever you see her in class.

But it seems everything has a breaking point.

“I’m s-sorry…” Your hands bundle up the hem of your shirt, sweat getting absorbed by the cotton fabric, your head that tilted downwards as tears began to drip from your eyes and phlegm built up in your throat as you hiccuped your words.

“I didn’t mean to h-hurt you, Satoru…”

Because you never meant for him to feel this way. You’ve always taken him into consideration, always wanted him to be happy when he was with you; beside you.

It was your fault for trying too hard to find workarounds, to mistakenly believe that it was still fine to interact with someone who you thought was an outlier to the promise.

(Or was it simply your fault for wanting to make a decision that was far too selfish?)

And he doesn’t even say anything else to you, only the feel of his eyes stabbing into your conscience before you hear him stomp away, his familiar sneakers kicking up sand that left you in the dust as you’re left behind in this setting sun that casted your shadow behind you, growing longer and longer the more the light dimmed.

“Kimi-chan! I wanna go home!”

“G-Gojo-sama, are you not going to play a little longer? There’s still quite a bit of time left before you—“

A beat of silence.

“Understood, Young Master. I will prepare the car to send the both of you back home.”

Maybe you deserve this, you think. Maybe this was the punishment you had to bear as you’re sat in the back of the car all on your lonesome as your now silent friend makes nay a sound in the front seat.

Separated from you. Not even saying goodbye to you as Kimiko-san opens the door for you, her apologetic eyes and a polite bow as you’re left behind in the cloud of dust formed behind the car.

Silently waving it goodbye.

So you think you definitely deserve it as you drag yourself to your front door, past the genkan and kicking off your shoes as you kept your gaze stuck to the floor and your hands frantically wiping the wetness from your eyes when you hear the shuffling in the kitchen and the clatter of the lid against a boiling pot.

Your first ever fight. Or would it be more accurate to say— Your first ever fallout with anybody at all? You don’t know how to process it, what you’re gonna do now that you were left without an answer to your teary apology and small voice.

“What’s wrong?” Her hand is in your hair as she pats you, your chopsticks suddenly feeling too heavy as you blink back into reality, your blurry gaze finally focusing back as you shake your head lightly—

“But you haven’t touched any of your food.” And you realize that you’ve only been blankly staring down at the steaming bowl of rice, had barely touched any of the meatballs that your Mama made.

“Is the soup not good? I forgot to pick up the miso today so I had to make do with salt.” Her chopsticks clack down as she picks up her own bowl, bringing it up to her lips as she takes another taste for good measure.

“No.” Because you aren’t the type to want to worry your Mama, not the type to want her to think too much about you whilst she’s hard at her job.

“It tastes really good, Mama.”

Not the type to want to bother her with problems that were solely your own. Especially when she’s been coming home with dark bags under her eyes and a tired smile on her face when she kisses your forehead in greeting each and every time.

She’s strong, so you want to be strong too.

It’s your own secret for now, because you want to hide this. It’s your choice, something you made for yourself as you hurriedly scoop more rice into these lips that told too many lies and kept a secret from your own Mama that you always claimed to love so much.

“Yua-sensei just gave too much homework today.” You add a smile at the end just for good measure, forcing the bright grin you usually show her as you stuff another meatball into your mouth.

Maybe you really are not as good of a kid as you thought. But you sincerely hope she believes you, hope she can fall for it— Even if it was just this once.

“I’m here if you need any help, okay?”

“Mhm. Thanks, Mama.”

You’ll solve this. You think you can’t… But you’ll still do your best to, anyway.

It’s a problem you caused.

“Are you okay?” The towel in his hair is haphazardly thrown over his head, his voice a prodding question to your conscience as you limply hold the other paper cup telephone in your hand.

“Did something happen while I was at training today?”

Your nightly talks with your Suguru.

“No,” Your voice is barely audible even through the makeshift telephone, throat scratchy as your shoulders slump even further and you think you might want to hide away forever. “But you need to dry your hair before you catch a cold…”

Because for some reason, you feel too ashamed to even face him right now.

“Speak for yourself first, (name).” His head is propped up against his arm as he raises a brow, looking at you and your still slightly damp hair from your bath as you continued to wipe off the tears that just refused to stop falling, that refused to pretend that everything was truly as alright as you wanted to make it seem.

The moon was out, and the sky was clear. So it made that the only other witness to your quiet, wordless sadness as you stare down at your hand, the sting of the hit long gone— For it just wasn’t hard enough to cause enough harm to you.

“You fought with Satoru, right?” It’s suddenly voiced out and almost scares you— Almost makes you start sobbing outright there and then.

How… Do the people around you always read you so well? How do they always tell that something’s wrong with you despite all the effort you put into hiding it? Were you bad at lying despite doing it so much? Were you doomed to simply be called a liar that wasn’t even good at the one thing they were labelled as?

(So much for lying for the ‘greater good’.)

“…cause you keep looking like you’re gonna cry.” That’s a lie. You know he’s telling a lie so that he won’t make you feel any worse, so that you won’t feel so embarrassed. You know he’s telling a lie because you were already crying, your stupid tears that just kept falling no matter how hard you’ve tried to keep yourself in check, no matter how hard you bit down on your lip or how hard you’ve tried to muffle your sniffles.

You’re the most hopeless, worst liar ever.

“Do you like her?” His voice is soft and whispered and low so that it wouldn’t startle you, trying to blanket you in his caress despite the distance between your windows. “Ieiri-san, I mean.”

Ah. You should’ve expected him to already know.

But to answer his question… You do. You really do. She wasn’t like the rest of the kids who questioned you on your relationship with the Gojo child, wasn’t like the other kids who judged you simply because you didn’t exactly fit in with the rest of them or because you didn’t really like playing outside during break.

So, you pathetically nod in reply, wiping snot off from your philtrum and trying really hard to find your voice, trying really hard to be honest so that you wouldn’t lie anymore.

So that you didn’t have to pretend like nothing was wrong.

“I like her.” You really, genuinely do. Even if she was hard to read, even if she takes things too lightly or seemed like she didn’t care… She always proved that she did in the end. Maybe it was giving you an extra of the magical eraser you’ve been secretly eyeing in her pencil case, maybe it was letting you lean on her shoulder as you read her shoujo manga beside her.

And maybe it was simply the feeling of having a girl friend that made your heart soar with a feeling unlike the times you hang around your best friends. It was like an unsaid bond, something akin to finding someone with likes too alike yours that it just didn’t make sense to not continue to hang around her.

“Hmm.” His voice is just as tender as ever even if he was simply thinking about your answer, his gaze on you turning unreadable as you wipe away another tear, stifle another sniffle.

Try to act like you really, really weren’t crying.

“And if Satoru and I told you that we didn’t,” You can see how those purple eyes of his glinted with an emotion you didn’t understand, shone with the shimmers of the moonlight that reflected from them as you try your hardest to steel yourself for whatever was coming next.

“Would you still be friends with her?”

Oh. How… Do you reply to this?

“I’m sorry for making you choose. Please don’t cry.” If only he were there beside you, if only he could be there to hold you and tell you that he would tolerate anybody that you liked. If only he could confidently tell you that he wasn’t jealous, wasn’t trying to convince you out of something that you wanted— Only then would he finally be able to fearlessly go over.

Alas, he’ll keep it to himself. He’ll tell himself that it really is all right, tell himself that he can make compromises if it could prevent you from ever crying ever again.

It would be worth it then.

“Then… I won’t try to be friends with her anymore…” Not if you’ll lose the 2 who you think are worth more than whatever you’ll ever be able to count in this life, a bubble of phlegm in your throat clearing when you cough out your reply through your tears.

“I-I don’t like making either of you sad…”

And it locks into silence afterwards, a reply unheard from your poor paper cup that you were just too afraid to soil with your tears as your handkerchief soaks yet another round of your childish dejection.

“Please don’t cry.” It now sounds panicked and not at all alike the

And maybe, just maybe— His words make you think just that little bit more as your own mind swirls in on itself. Maybe you want something for yourself for the first time ever, want to make a decision that was solely you. A decision that would usually be far too dangerous, but for once, it would be your own nonetheless.

That’s how you won’t leave any regrets, right?

“But…” You swallow the lump in your throat again as your reddened, swollen gaze met his. “Would you both please meet her first…?”

Before they decided to hate her forever, that is.

It’s not the best plan, but it was your favourite. That was enough reason to pick it, enough for you to forego any of your other intentions in favour of this.

Because it gave you too much meaning for you to regret anything else.

Though, there was a very big hole in your plan. That being the fact that Satoru… Still won’t talk to you. Even on the way to school when you nervously squeezed Suguru’s hand as you both awaited for the familiar car to arrive, even when you both silently trailed after the… Suddenly sullen boy that refused to speak a singular word towards the both of you.

It’s a boon that you’re all only 8, otherwise your blushing, stubborn friend wouldn’t be showing up at school with his head held high, stubbornly sat next to you as he did his absolute hardest not to look you in the eye all throughout the different periods.

Even if he was— Quite literally, sat next to you. Mangas where best friends avoid each other are a staple you’ve read before— But it seems that the cliches of them being able to avoid each other entirely just didn’t apply in real life.

It doesn’t feel awkward, though. Just… Sad.

“Satoru…?” You visibly deflate when he doesn’t reply, your view of the back of his head being a constant throughout today that didn’t quite settle well with you. So you make do with a frown and dejected stare down at the math worksheet that he would’ve usually been pointing at and trying to make you understand by now.

But it looks like he still didn’t want to talk. Not even when all your trays of food have been cleared and lunch would be just about over in a little while.

“Satoru, seriously?” It’s Geto’s voice that has the snow-haired boy jumping slightly, a twitch of his shoulders and his crystal blue eyes narrowed when he pouts and glares at him with only the slightest, careful turn of his head.

“How long are ya gonna stay mad?”

He could’ve chosen to not come to school, could’ve chosen to go back to his private lessons within his too big home…

But he chose to come here, still. So it means something, right? It definitely does when he finally gets called out by the most sensible out of the 3 of you, finally losing his deity-like patience the moment you’ve given up, his small hands tightly holding yours to comfort you from the all too stubborn, hard-headed friend you both had.

Gojo Satoru was not good at talking. Sure, he can talk anyone’s ear off about Digimon, can go on and on about cakes and how they could be interlinked with the wide world of physics, why his favourite soda brand should be the only one allowed to exist and so many other arbitrary things.

But he was still no good at talking. He can’t speak wholeheartedly like you do, can’t express his emotions so softly like Suguru does— He can’t do it well lest it shows the vulnerability a Gojo does not reveal.

A Gojo does not show weakness. They were raised to never do so, that’s why he’s roughly pushing a neatly wrapped box of cookies that had been crumpled when stuffed into his Digimon backpack, hurriedly snatching up the note very obviously left behind by a certain maidservant for encouragement as he blushes and glares down at his hands.

‘You can do it, Young Master Gojo!’ ٩(^‿^)۶

“K-Kimi-chan said t-this is good apology food so!” The burning tips of his ears grow ever hotter as it’s accidentally shoved off the table and falling onto your lap, curious purple and your own eyes meeting; going down to the box of cookies— And up to the extremely red Satoru that looked like a massively adorable contrast to the waves of ocean blue of his starry eyes.

“S-So just eat it and— And… S-sorry, okay?!”

You should’ve known that your Satoru has always been this way, your hands going up to your cheeks as you perk up and smooth out the crinkled wrapping paper,

“Thank you…”

(“There! I said it!” His blushing face was growing increasingly ashamed as his amethyst-eyed best friend pats his back from behind, your arms wrapped around his neck from the front as you simply can’t help the smile stretched onto your face.

“I’m sorry too, Satoru.”)

(But you still have to break the promise. Just one last time as you pull away from his hug, taking a deep breath and squeezing Suguru’s hand as you prepare to ask for quite possibly— The impossible.)

——

“Ah.” Ieiri Shoko finally sees why you were so nervous when you asked her to come over to play, why the look on your face was so deathly serious and almost constipated looking that she thought you were inviting her over so as to declare a fight to death— Or something like that.

You weren’t exactly the most normal kid around.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” She nods towards him, clearly unimpressed with this situation as all 4 of you sat within Suguru’s room, warm, untouched milk in your cup as you all sat around the low table.

“Gojo.”

Wait. What? Did she just call him by his last name with no honorifics? This— Was the first time they’ve ever looked at each other face to face— To your knowledge, anyway.

Then there could only be one explanation as you watch your cute friend practically chug down another glass of strawberry juice out of pure irritation.

(“At least have some manners when people are talking, Satoru.” Your poor host can only sigh as he watches the boy pout and glare at him, his red cheeks puffed up.)

“You… Guys know each other?”

“Mhm.” Said like it was the obvious thing ever.

“Hmph.” Huffed out in disgruntled acceptance.

“Our parents do.” She twirls a strand of her hair, neatly done up into a cute half-up braid around as she takes another sip of juice. “Our families tried to set up an arranged marriage with us once.”

What?

“I told ya she was trouble.” Your Satoru’s the one leaning his head on your shoulder, hugging you tightly to him as he glares at the intruder that dared to try to steal his precious friend. “Are we done? I wanna go play!”

“Wait— Is that why you hated her so much, Satoru?” Now Suguru’s the one looking almost disgusted, shocked and everything in between as he grimaces at the spoiled kid. “She didn’t even do anything. It was her parents.”

“She’s guilty by default!”

“The arrangement didn’t go through though,” Her cup clanks against the coaster upon the low table as her posture grows increasingly lax and unlike the ‘proper, elegant’ first impression people would see her as.

“Cause he kept rejecting it and I kept skipping out on our play dates.” She even couples it with a wide, dismissive open-mouthed yawn as her head meets your other free shoulder.

(You’re out of shoulders to lend to Suguru.)

“Hell would freeze over before I even considered marrying someone like him, though.” Because if she was considering marriage candidates, she would want someone more docile, gentle. Someone who actually listens to what she has to say. Someone like y—

“Yea, yea!” He’s huffing angrily as he lightly shoves her head off of you. “I don’t wanna marry someone like you either, Shoko! Blehhh!”

And you feel a tug of your arm towards her in retaliation, your body simply going limp as you just allow it to happen. “(name) and I would be a good fit, though. Maybe I’ll ask my mama to set up a marriage with her.”

Oh. You recognise that lilt in her voice, that sneaky grin on her face—

She’s teasing him. And doing very well at it.

“Haah?! Have ya gone insane, ya ugly hag?!” And it’s almost painful— With how hard he tugged you towards him.

“Maybe you’ve failed to consider how unmarry-able you are.”

“Well, (name) thinks I’m cute, you hag!”

“Cute doesn’t mean handsome.”

Left. Right. Left. Right. You’re basically being pulled and thrown about like a ragdoll by two opposing forces as your eyes spin and your head goes even more confused. The only saviour and your saving grace now is—

“Suguruuuu!!!” Your hand reaches out towards him for help— Barely heard above the yelling between your two friends as your confusion whirls even harder. Yet all you feel is Suguru’s familiar hand holding yours— Before he joins the pile of limbs on the floor, tightly hugging your free front and stealing any free hugging space from both of your suitors.

“No. Satoru got to spend all his time beside you and you haven’t played with just me in a while.” And you know him. Know your pretty friend so well that you can almost exactly decipher what he meant.

‘I’m jealous. So this is your punishment.’

At least you all get along now, right?

——

“Another bowl please.” Your Pokemon themed bowl that your Mama found at the department store was absolutely cleared of rice, a stray grain sticking to your cheek as you grin and plead oh so cutely for seconds.

“You seem to be in a good mood today.” She chuckles as her thumb swiped at your face, her hand warm against your skin as you giggle.

“Mhm. I’m really happy today.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Her movements are slow and careful, pressing a button that made the rice cooker pop open carefully as she scoops up another paddle of rice.

“Cause I keep thinking about the movie I’m gonna watch this weekend.” The one that Satoru had been talking your ears off of as he speaks through his snacks, making Suguru click his tongue and Shoko grimace in disgust as you simply listen intently with a sparkle in your eye.

The one that you had so nervously asked for permission so that you could follow them to the theatre for as you stood before your contemplative Mama, skittishly looking up at her with a timid smile and the tooth that had finally fully grown in— An ‘adult’ tooth as everyone calls it.

“You’re growing up too fast, you know?” Her hand gently ruffles your hair as you giggle slightly, picking up your no-longer training chopsticks. You’re even using the ‘adult’ utensils too. “Soon you won’t even need me to take care of you anymore.”

“Nope!” You swallow the mouthful of rice and egg as you chew too hurriedly. “I’ll make sure to need you forever and ever, Mama.”

“Is that so?” A playful pinch to your cheek.

“Mhm.”

“And what if I grow old and wrinkly and can’t move anymore, hmm?” Her hands thread through your hair, lightly smoothing it out first before the feel of your hairbrush glides through.

(You’ve been a bit into doing your hair a lot recently. Shoko must have rubbed off on you.)

“Then I’ll buy you super cool robot legs so you won’t feel sad that you can’t walk!”

You’re already 10, after all.

(2 years until you present.)

previous masterlist next

[demonic0angel]

Celestial Bodies AU (7/?)

(Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6. Also on AO3)

Sometimes, it felt like the whole world was against her.

It was especially evident in Batman's pissy attitude and his insistence on her quitting her night job, despite how he allowed Tim and Dick to do whatever they wanted.

She may not have been trained like those two, but it didn't mean that he couldn't step up and teach her, right? She had to rely on her own wits and Tim's sporadic (and admittedly rather lackluster) moments of teaching in order to know how to defend herself without a weapon.

So yeah, now that she had an opportunity to rub it in Bruce's face that he was wrong to dismiss her, she wouldn't let this opportunity go!

At least, that was what she was thinking before the harsh reality of being stuck to Batman all the time hit her.

Quite literally.

Robin groaned, rubbing her sore shoulders after another day of patrol with Batman. She messaged Tim with one hand while the other started taking off her cape and belt. She started peeling off her mask as Tim responded back.

Girl Wonder: tim

Girl Wonder: howas ur day

Boy Loser: Fine

Boy Loser: How was yours

Girl Wonder: pandil

Girl Wonder: painful*

Boy Loser: Lmaoaoaoao

Stephanie sighed again, as Tim started teasing her about the spelling mistake. Sometimes, he would let it go and sometimes, he had to rub it in her face. Usually, she would just roll her eyes fondly and take the ribbing, but today, she just wanted comfort.

After Tim had been forced to shelve Robin after his dad found out about his secret identity, he has given her the role of becoming Robin. She had taken it with great reverence, but Batman clearly wasn’t ready to let go of Tim yet, because he was an absolute asshole while training her.

She felt like perhaps he was seeing someone else through her (either Tim or someone else…?) but it was so tiring and infuriating that she didn’t mention it, only wanting to quit Robin after a few weeks of this near-torture.

Batman was oddly petty for a man who spent his life fighting crime.

… wait a minute.

Stephanie sighed again.

Boy Loser: ... Steph? You alright?

Stephanie pursed her lips as she realized her uncharacteristic lack of reply was now worrying Tim.

Girl Wonder: yea

Girl Wonder: B is being a dick

Boy Loser: ... I wish I could make some sort of Dick joke but I feel like it won't be appreciated rn

Boy Loser: What happened?

Stephanie chuckled a little and continued to reply.

Girl Wonder: nthing but he keeps putting me down

Girl Wonder: it pisses me off

Girl Robin: im robin now! i dont deserve this

The three talking dots popped up as Tim began typing out his reply and Stephanie waited, suddenly wondering if she had been too whiny and he was annoyed. After all, how many people got to say that they were handed the Robin costume by an actual Robin and then allowed to be Batman's sidekick? She needed to be grateful, but it was difficult when Batman was being a little bi—

Okay, deep breaths.

Stephanie shook off her thoughts, just as Tim finally replied.

Boy Loser: How about going to meet the cluster?

She blinked.

Girl Wonder: the wut?

Boy Loser: The Phantom Cluster? All Robins got a star bonded to them. Like mine, remember?

She paused again.

She didn't know much about the Phantom Cluster. All she knew were that they were a group of cursed children who were forced into becoming sentient stars. They were considered all-knowing, but relied on a Robin in order to exploit some unknown loophole in their curse and grow up past their frozen ages.

At least, that was what Tim had explained to her.

Girl Wonder: ... can i do that?

Boy Loser: I'll come and bring you to them?

Boy Loser: I want to see my star anyways.

Wow, she almost wanted to feel jealous, but she had already been long aware of his obsession with his star and now it was just funny to see how close he was to them.

Girl Wonder: ok

Boy Loser: Sweet. Stay there

Her eyes widened.

Girl Wonder: right now??

He didn't respond. Only 10 minutes later, as Stephanie debated between taking off her uniform or leaving it on to leave a more professional impression on the stars, did Tim scurry into the Batcave with a breathless smile.

"Let's go!" He said. "I snuck past my dad and Bruce for this."

Stephanie laughed, "You're so excited! Don't you have camera feed of your star? It's not like you haven't seen her in a while."

"Nothing beats seeing her in person," Tim grinned. "C'mon, I'll show you how to get to the cluster."

He directed her towards the tube and began explaining its mechanisms and codes for various locations. Stephanie listened carefully, although there were butterflies in her stomach as she thought about meeting the cluster.

Would they hate her?

After all, no matter how much she wished she was, she wasn't like the other Robins. If all of the previous Robins had a star, would she be considered different if she didn’t have one herself?

Suddenly, she felt nauseous. What if she wasn’t chosen? Would it be further proof that she wasn’t meant to be a hero?

She suddenly felt a hand slide into hers. She blinked and looked up as Tim gave her a small, reassuring smile.

“It’ll be okay, I promise. They’re nice.”

Stephanie returned his look with a shaky smile and then the two of them went into the tube, and off they went.

When they landed, Stephanie barely had a moment to bounce back before Tim was pulling her through the metal halls. They walked for a while, and Tim finally burst from the silence.

“Did you read the files about the Phantom Cluster?”

“They’re locked to me,” Stephanie replied. “I only know what you and Dick told me and that they’re a group of sentient stars.”

“That’s because Bruce can get… irritated and try to delete or edit the information. We locked it so only Robins know the passwords,” Tim explained. “But the Phantom Cluster is a group of sentient astronomical bodies, such as several stars and planets. There’s six of the main ones, but there are also a few other planets that can occasionally communicate with them. However, they’re not as sentient and only the six in the middle is— actually, I’ll just let you see for yourself.”

Stephanie followed him and when he finally opened the doors to the command room, she stopped in place and stared.

The room they were in was shaped like a half circle, and all of the walls were covered in glass, allowing ample view of the stars outside. In front of the glass were several machines and computers, silent as they flashed with notifications and alerts about the readings of the stars.

A soft song was playing, one made entirely by voices. It was angelic, like that of a choir and it sent a shiver down Stephanie’s spine as the chilling and seductive music wrapped around her like a siren’s call.

But she wasn’t too focused on the singing.

No, she was focused on the stars.

They were beautiful.

Dick had mentioned it once, how much he loved looking at them. Tim had also mentioned it several times, of how he visited them just to watch them and to see his star.

With the way they spoke of them at times, Stephanie sometimes wondered if they were brainwashed.

But now, she could understand.

Humans had always been fascinated by the stars. It was what created astronomy, telescopes, stories of constellations and space travel and aliens, it was what created NASA and the moon landing and astrology and rocket ships.

She could understand it now.

In the middle of space was a cluster of stars. Four of them whirled and twirled around each other with various degrees of energy. One in particular spun and slowed down in intervals, like doing a skip during a walk because it was so excited that it had to jump a little, but it still wanted to keep pace with the group.

There were also two planets, one covered in clouds and the other was a red and yellow sandy looking planet with wide rings surrounding it. They circled the stars quickly, but carefully, like trying to keep close but also not wanting to bump into the hot balls of gasses. A variety of asteroids and other smaller planets then circled them at a distance, as if not wanting to get closer.

Stephanie could quite literally see the personality within all of them, as they orbited one another.

Tim grinned. “They’re amazing, right?”

“You weren’t kidding,” she breathed.

Tim pulled her to the window and then pointed at a large, bluish star. “That’s Dick’s. We call it Nightwing’s star or Dick’s star. He’s one of the oldest and also the largest. He can be kinda mean, but he protects Dick a lot.”

“How can a star be mean?” Stephanie wondered. She watched as Dick’s star spun and then directed the pretty pink and purple clouds towards two other astronomical bodies.

“You’ll know what I mean,” Timothy said, before pointing to another celestial body. This time, it was a swirling, bow-tie shaped thing that was funneling gas and dust. There were two of them, but this one was distinctly colored blue and was smaller than the other.

“Is that…?”

“Yeah. That one is my star. Well, she’s actually a baby star— a protostar,” Timothy proclaimed proudly. “Isn’t she beautiful? I call her partner.”

Stephanie stared with a mixture of amazement and endearment. “She’s pretty cute. She’s smaller than all of the others!”

“Yeah. She’s the baby of the cluster.” He pointed to the other protostar. “And that one is… Jason’s.”

Stephanie stared at its enormous, funneling body and nodded slowly. “… it shows that he’s alive, huh?”

“Yeah. That’s the big sister of the cluster. She’s Jason’s star, and we don’t know how but… they’re back.”

Stephanie nodded again. She knew of this. Before Tim quit and while she was still Spoiler, she would occasionally babysit Gotham whenever he left with Nightwing in order to search for Jason.

“…. At least they’re both back?” She offered awkwardly.

Tim nodded. “At least they’re back.” He pointed to a small, faintly glowing blue and green ball that was following Tim’s star. “That one is the King. He takes care of the other stars and he’s a neutron star. He also used to be a hero, like us, before he died.”

“How young was he? Do we know?”

Tim met eyes with her.

“He was fourteen when he died,” he said softly, and Stephanie pursed her lips.

The amount of child heroes who died before 16 was quite uncomfortable.

The atmosphere was suddenly awkward, but Tim forcibly changed the subject and pointed to the two planets. “And lastly, these are the other two planets. They’re part of the ones singing as well as the main six of the cluster. That one is a rocky planet and that one has life on it, but we haven’t been able to touch down on either of them.”

Stephanie blinked and leaned closer to the glass in awe, squinting to try and see past the thick clouds. “Life? Like Earth? Why can’t we land?”

“They won’t let us. Sometimes, we can fly along their orbit, but when they get mad or want to stop us, they’ll push us back. The stars will help and send out solar flares and if they get really pissed, well, it’s not pretty.”

Interested, Stephanie asked, “What happens?”

Tim shrugged. “I'm not sure. But there were some people who betrayed the Justice League and tried to come here to take over. The stars took them out.”

Stephanie’s eyebrows rose.

She looked around for an invisible camera.

Did Timothy Drake, once Robin, just tell her that the stars killed people?

“Wait, what? How?”

“One ship got pulled in via the gravitational pull and then exploded on Dick’s star, and another ship had an asteroid hit them and a hole appeared in the hull. They all died.”

Stephanie recoiled. “Wait, seriously? They all died?”

Tim nodded. “Yeah. The Justice League was pissed. Dick argued that the stars were just defending themselves and—“

“The Justice League was mad at the stars??”

Stephanie felt like she was learning too many things at once. She was almost dizzy from the confusion.

Timothy gave her a light glare for interrupting him again but said, “The Justice League was angry since they had deliberately killed people. Even the asteroid was intentional.” He shrugged then. “But what can they do? Punish the Cluster? Dick fought for them and they’re still here as allies to the Justice League and to the Robins. But that’s also why you don’t see any other heroes here. They kinda stopped coming after that, though Superman does visit sometimes.”

“… wow. That’s so messed up on so many levels.”

Tim grinned.

“So, ready to introduce yourself? They’re waiting.”

Well, that wasn’t ominous at all. Especially with all of the very nice, normal things he just told her about the stars.

Stephanie told him that and he laughed. She took that brief moment to allow the panic to sink in and then flow out of her as she took a deep breath.

“Okay,” she said, facing the main communicator, “I’m ready.”

“I’ll introduce you,” Tim said. He tapped the glass softly and then said, "Hello, everyone."

There was a pause as the hair rose on the back of Stephanie's neck, and she listened as the sound of angelic song slowed to a halt, allowing only ocean waves and TV static to fill the room with an energy that she could not place.

The crackle of static and burbling of water was the only sound for awhile.

And then—

"Hey, partner."

Tim beamed. "Hey, partner. It's good to see you. You're getting bigger, huh?"

The protostar gave a deliberate whirl, sparkling as gas and dust rubbed against each other within its accretion disks.

There was suddenly an angry, high pitched noise on the communicator.

Both Stephanie and Tim winced, although Tim also looked exasperated.

Dick's star, which had been silently following the orbital path suddenly froze in place. It turned slowly, seemingly facing in one spot before stopping completely, its edges flaring with bursts of light.

“Is… is that Dick's star glaring at you?” She said, bordering on a laugh. Tim’s star did a cycle around the other protostar and then did a loop around Dick’s star, as if trying to poke it into reacting. Dick’s star was still for a moment longer, before inching along their orbital path again without spinning, as if still trying to keep its eyes on Tim through the glass.

She burst into giggles, absolutely delighted in the way Tim looked exasperated and resigned of a star seemingly trying to antagonize him.

“Yeah. He’s like that a lot whenever I’m around,” Tim sighed exaggeratedly.

“That’s so cute! To be honest, I didn’t expect them to have so much personality.”

“Yeah, me too. But once you get to know them, they’re really fun. Even if Dick’s star hates my guts.”

Stephanie giggled again. “He’s like an overprotective dad.”

“Yeah, but at least I'm not the only one he hates. He also really— uhm.” Timothy paused in the middle of his tirade.

Stephanie blinked and turned to stare at him.

Timothy looked uncomfortable, but soldiered on and continued, “But I also heard that he disliked Jason too. Apparently, he was pissed when Jason got his star. He has a real complex about his sisters from what we know.”

Stephanie tried to imagine the image of a big blue ball throwing a hissy fit because his sisters were being taken away by human boys, and the absurdity made her laugh.

“Aww, poor guy!” She snickered. “He just wants you stinky boys away from his sisters.”

“Hey!” Timothy exclaimed with a playful glare. “I take showers!”

"Coulda fooled me!"

Tim huffed a laugh and then addressed the Cluster again. "Everyone, this is Robin."

There was a pause, and then the Cluster spoke in unison, a whispery coo, "Hello, Robin."

Stephanie breathed out a sigh of relief as Tim perked up, smiling broadly.

One voice in particular spoke up over the rest.

"Robin, I have someone who'd like to make a deal with you."

Its voice was soft and light, but there was a quality within that made her want to relax within its soothing reverb.

Stephanie couldn't help grabbing at Tim in excitement, who patted her hand with a wide grin.

"Would you like to accept?"

She coughed to calm herself down. "... who is asking?"

The communicator crackled and then the cluster spoke again, with the one voice leading in front, "Come into the space pod and you will be taken to him."

Stephanie met eyes with Tim. Timothy raised an eyebrow and then shrugged.

"Now what?"

"... I guess you go?"

She gulped. She looked at Tim for reassurances, for him to tell her— something, but he didn't.

He just stared at her and then smiled, a glint in his eyes that she knew was him knowing something that he didn't want to share.

Stephanie sighed.

She went into the space pod that was attached to the station with instructions to just stay still and let the Cluster's solar winds lead her to where she needed to go, and off she sent.

Stephanie sat in the space pod, watching the distant stars and galaxies while she was slowly led deeper and deeper into the Phantom Cluster. The communicator crackled with no words as she sat there in a drifting metal ship within the vacuum of space.

For a moment, she wondered if she was going to die.

She wondered if they were rejecting her and would then kill her via asteroid smashing into the pod or fire as they guided her straight into a star's surface.

She wondered if this was going to be the last thing she ever saw, stars and planets and galaxies in her eyes before her life ended, but when she blinked, she was sailing straight into the golden planet with rings.

Her eyes widened and she held on as the pod began to shake with its descent into a planet's atmosphere.

She yelped as the pod sank past the deep yellow clouds and then she was falling.

"Oh fuck!" She screamed, as she immediately tried steadying the pod.

But there was nothing. The buttons on the pod were not meant to let the driver steer, since it was merely an extension of the space shuttle that the stars were meant to guide themselves.

For a moment, she cursed Tim and Dick and all of the Robins and their insane trust in the stars for creating a death trap of a machine, and as her heart lurched into her throat, she was suddenly caught and the pod stilled.

She looked out the window and gaped.

Metal contraptions were floating in the air, attaching to the pod to slowly bring it down to the ground.

No, wait, it wasn't floating. The metal contraptions were part of the ground too. They looked like long tentacles that drifted from the ground to bring her down.

A shudder ran down Stephanie's spine.

What did this mean?

Had someone landed on the planet before the Justice League or the Robins had?

When she was guided down onto the ground, she hesitated.

She was not like Tim or Dick. Hell, she didn't even become Robin because she particularly wanted to or because Bruce offered. She became Robin only because Tim asked her to take care of Gotham while he was a civilian.

She was Spoiler before she was Robin. She was not like the others.

(She wasn't even a boy, or a particularly good Robin. Batman had never treated the other Robins like he treated her: carelessly, callously, coldly.)

But the thought of getting Batman's approval, of being a real Robin made her move. She pressed the button and the door opened.

For a moment, she worried that she wouldn't have been able to breathe, but before she could worry about lack of oxygen, something sand colored began crawling towards her at high speeds.

She screamed and immediately flew back to the pod, trying to close the door to no avail.

Looking closer, it was like some bizarre mix between a gold colored android and a mummy. It was the size of an adult man and looked half broken, like it needed repairing. It didn't matter though, because it was approaching the space pod rapidly and Stephanie was weaponless.

She shrieked again when the android climbed into the pod and started crawling after her. She kicked at it and it stopped moving when she started screaming and cried out, “What the hell!”

It twitched and then crept towards her again.

Stephanie waved a hand hurriedly. “No, no! Don’t get closer!”

It paused.

Stephanie almost could've cried.

Just what was going on?

The android twitched and then it pulled out something from a pouch on its waist.

It clicked and then laid the thing on the ground at her feet.

Stephanie flinched and moved away.

"What is that?" She asked, thankful that she did not stutter.

The communicator finally spoke then, and a voice called out, "That's a mask to help you breathe. If you don't want sand or glass in your lungs, wear it."

Stephanie blinked and turned her head, though she didn't take her eyes off of the android thing.

"Are you... the planet?"

The echoey voice of a planetary body made him sound wistful as he hummed, "Mhm. You should leave the ship."

"What about..." she did a vague gesture towards the mummy-android thing.

"He's a helper. He won't hurt you."

Stephanie hesitated for only a second before she moved. She took the mask and fit it onto her face. Then she carefully followed the helper. It crawled away and led her to their destination, but as Stephanie stared at it, she realized that its legs were broken off.

Was it damaged?

She didn’t ask, a little too weirded out by the entire situation. Instead, she observed the world around her.

The ground was dry with dirt and sand. A light wind blew the sand in billowing, gold swirls. She noticed that the mask seemed to protect her from the sand, since she felt none of the wind against her skin, and she narrowed her eyes before looking up at the red sky. Slightly visible above the yellow clouds, was the bright figures of the other stars, glowing brightly like white circles.

The air was thick, like she was breathing through a heavy, dry soup. The temperature was hot, almost scorching, but Stephanie persisted as the robot continued.

She swallowed, trudging carefully past the thick sand, and the robot thing led her to a blocky mobile home-looking machine. It stopped by the door and tilted its head.

Stephanie shivered. “Am I… supposed to go inside?”

It creaked and then nodded.

Stephanie cursed out Tim again and then stepped inside, pushing the heavy door with a grunt. Piles of sand covered the floor, making her feet sink as she walked through.

It was like a small cabin made of metal. Inside were tables and a bed, all crowded in unreadable papers and books. Wires and metal tubes covered the ceiling in a tangled mess, and a large supercomputer was attached to the wall at the end of the room.

The screen buzzed with static.

Stephanie stared, watching the faint light of the computer sparkle across the dark room, lighting everything with dark shadows before she stepped through the sand and approached like a mindless puppet.

When she was close enough to the computer screen, it flickered with a spark before turning black. Stephanie tensed.

The air began to feel heavy, like a pressure was being put on her, like eyes were beginning to watch her.

There was a hum, and then the screen crackled.

It turned black, and then pale bronze words began to type, one by one in quick succession.

“Hello, Robin.”

There was no sound, beyond the hum of machinery and the faint back-and-forth of rising tides, despite this place clearly being a desert planet.

Stephanie swallowed again.

“Hello,” she said carefully. She laughed a little, trying to shake off the jitters. “This whole thing is very creepy, y’know?”

“LOL, sorry about that. I’m glad you’re here, Robin.”

She laughed at the first statement, finding it surreal as to how a planet knew how to use words like “LOL”. At the second sentence, she bowed her head, a weird flare of happiness appearing within her, the humor quickly dying and being replaced by a sense of pride. “Glad to be here,” she mumbled. “Are you… are you the planet?”

The silence was brief, but oddly, she could tell that its personality was pleasant.

“Yes.”

Her mouth felt dry. She just wanted to confirm that the same being who spoke to her on the communicator was the one on the computer, but she still couldn't help but feel a sense of cold going down her spine.

So this was the strength and power of a celestial entity?

“… what is all of this? If you’re a planet, then… who created all of this stuff?”

The pressure grew heavier, like a hand was being pressed down on her. Stephanie tried to straighten underneath it, but it felt gentle and firm, like the hand of her mother when she wanted to scold her but didn’t have the heart to do so.

It made her feel cold and sleepy, but she was awake as the planet then spoke.

"Would you like to make a deal with me?"

The planet asked, and Stephanie hesitated.

Why did it not answer her question? Should she continue to press for answers?

She did not feel the same devotion and love that the other Robins did. She did not know if it was because she was not a real Robin or if it was because she was different from the others, but she just didn't feel the same blind trust for the stars.

(But…

She wanted the approval of Batman. Of Gotham. Of the other Robins. Of the stars.)

She decided not to ask again.

"What... what would it mean? To make a deal with you?"

"You'll be my host,"

Was the patient reply.

"How am I supposed to be a host? What does it do?"

"Just live. And be your true self."

She bit her lip.

But then she thought, what was she supposed to lose?

Every other Robin had a star. Only she didn't have one, and this was her chance.

She wanted to do good. To be good.

"Deal," she said, and the machine crackled. “I’ll be your host.”

“So be it.”

Stephanie had placed her hand carelessly on the machine’s surface, and in the next moment, her palms began to burn. She yelped, but it hadn’t actually hurt. The surprise of the heat made her pull back and she raised her hand to look at her right palm, where a four pointed star now bloomed into existence.

The highest point touched past the second knuckle of her middle finger, while the lowest point reached her wrist. Bronze yellow and wine purple blended together into something unique and beautiful and a flare of warmth spread throughout Stephanie’s body and into her chest.

No wonder the Boy Wonders were so devoted to the stars.

So this is what it felt like to become a host of the stars.

Cheerfully, Stephanie asked, “What do I call you? Is there anything you want me to do for you?”

“Call me whatever you like. And I’ll tell you if I need something.”

Another line appeared below that one.

“Thank you, Robin. For saving me.”

Stephanie blushed. “Okay! Uh, bro!”

“LOL. OK, buddy.”

Later, when her ship was guided back to the sky with the unexplained metal tubes, she was met back into the Phantom Space Station with a pacing Tim, who beamed when he saw her.

“How was it! Did you get it!? Who were they?! What did you call them?!”

Stephanie grinned and presented her palm to him.

Tim squealed.

————

Batman was not as thrilled, but nothing she could do satisfied him much anyways. Nightwing and Oracle were delighted to hear about her new celestial body, while Batgirl looked interested and curious.

Robin was just happy that she had her own celestial body to herself.

At first, it was awkward as Robin didn't understand the signs or signals that were given to her by her astronomical object, but Nightwing and Tim had no problem helping her understand how to interpret them. As time continued, they began to work together in amazing ways.

Whenever she dealt with any machinery (which was unfortunately a lot as too many people had access to bombs for some reason), it was always handled easier than before. She also felt no more fatigue or exhaustion from traveling in hot, dry weather, and had a minor immunity to heat and electricity.

Her abilities were not entirely unique, as she discovered that the other Robins also had shared abilities, but only she could communicate with her celestial body through her phone or computer.

She learned that he was a funny, easy-going individual who loved food and meat dishes and technology.

In many ways, he was so human that she often forgot that he wasn’t actually one.

It made her feel complicated, remembering how he was once a child, just like her, before whatever happened to him and the other astronomical objects.

But no matter how she asked or cajoled or coaxed, it was useless because he shut down every single time.

In the end, all she knew was this.

Whatever curse was placed upon the stars, only the Robins could save them.

So she just shrugged it off and continued to chat and use her planet’s help in being a better vigilante. With his technological help and his aid in guiding her, she was slowly learning new hobbies, better techniques, and more knowledge.

Robin was relearning her place in the hero scene as the partner of Batman, and with her celestial body by her side, she knew that she could do anything.

But all good things must come to an end. Like how great TV shows got canceled, like how the last day of childhood ended, like how everyone died eventually, like how the sea pulled back, like how stars evaporated from going supernova.

It had happened so suddenly.

She had thought she was doing well.

Robin— no, Stephanie bit her lip.

She wasn't Robin anymore.

Batman had fired her.

She fought back the tears in her eyes at the injustice of it all. She knew she made mistakes. She knew she wasn't perfect. But she just wanted to feel like she belonged, like she was doing good.

It wasn't fair how everyone else made mistakes, but she wasn't allowed. So that was why she decided that she had to prove herself.

She had thought that she was doing so well, but Batman had not thought the same.

It had not even taken him a second thought before he fired her.

He would have never treated any of the other Robins this way.

(Somewhere in the sky, the stars murmured to themselves, tending to their comatose sister.)

She was about to look into the files of the Batcomputer for a plan to implement and prove herself as a hero, when the keyboards sparked as she pressed her fingers down.

She paused.

The spark crackled and then flew into the computer with a fizzle. The screen glitched and then turned black and Stephanie froze as an intense wave of fear entered her, quickening her breath and heartbeat until she was frozen with terror, almost unable to breathe.

The feeling of being watched by an otherworldly being washed over her again, more pervasive than ever before.

The screen flickered and then coppery yellow words appeared. The fear began to fade like a lowering tide and Stephanie finally breathed as she read the words that began to type.

"Stop what you're doing."

The sound of space filled the Batcave with a hiss, the familiar crackle of technology struggling to understand the words of celestial objects and the ocean waves of outer space, washing over her like the unforgiving sea.

"... buddy?"

The keyboard moved without her input. Words were typed onto the screen by unseen hands.

"I'm here."

His words were reassuring, but the next sentences that appeared were anything but.

"Stop what you're doing, Robin. You'll kill yourself."

The stars could see the future. They often warned the Justice League of future events and dangers, and even the Robins were often given prophetic dreams when the stars could offer them. Jason was the best example, as the only Robin so far who could communicate with his star in dreams. Everything he had known from the stars were foretold as true.

This fact popped into Stephanie's mind.

Her vision began to blur from an onslaught of tears. Her breath hitched and then she sobbed.

Oh stars.

Nothing she did was right.

She covered her face and whimpered. Tears involuntarily flowed down her face and her cheeks felt hot with humiliation and shame. Humiliation for being caught at trying to hack the Batcomputer to come back as Robin, and shame as she realized that she would've inconvenienced everyone by dying doing so.

Was this a sign that she was actually supposed to abandon her life as a vigilante?

The keyboard tapped away again. She blinked the tears from her eyes and looked up through blurry vision.

"Don't cry. You're still my Robin."

Stephanie sniffed. Finally, she croaked, "What?"

"You were Robin once. But that's not your future. You have another identity, don't you?"

Spoiler.

Stephanie straightened her back as she realized what he was trying to imply. After a moment, as the realization set in, she reached up to wipe her eyes. She breathed in deeply and calmed herself down forcibly.

"Are you saying that... I should go back to being Spoiler?"

"You were never meant to stay as a Robin, bro."

The casual, flippant "bro" was so absurd that she giggled wetly.

She stood up from the chair and nodded, blinking the sting from her eyes.

But she felt better.

Sharp relief filled her and she shuddered at the swell of emotion that got rid of the dark negativity within her.

Suddenly, she knew who she was.

Like Nightwing, she had found her true calling. But unlike the others, unlike any other Robin, she was returning to her true identity.

A Spoiler of secrets and evil plans.

She wore purple far before she wore red, yellow, and green. She was a vigilante far before Batman. She was a Spoiler far before she was a Robin.

And just because she had changed her identity, just because Batman fired her, just because she had failed in one thing did not mean she had failed entirely.

Now she was almost embarrassed, but she just felt relieved more than anything. It made her want to go slack, but she took another deep breath to calm down.

"Okay," she said softly. "Okay. You'll be with me, right, buddy?"

She looked up as the keyboard clacks continued and golden letters started to appear on the screen again. Even though there was nothing spoken aloud, she could sense the affection in each word as her celestial body typed a response for her.

"Of course. I'll always be here for you."

Stephanie beamed and tidied up the Batcomputer before leaving the cave.

She did not need Batman to be a hero.

Just like she didn't need to be Robin to do something more with her life either.

The next day, as she put on her old uniform, dark purples and magentas and blacks, she checked up on her astronomical body with the tablet given to her by Tim and laughed.

A pale yellow moon was following her planet.

A gentle song came from the screen, soft and soothing, a sign of change and revival, like the rain after a period of drought, like the peeking flower buds underneath snow, like the moon's reappearance after a dark night.

In it, she could hear a third voice, a male voice that was lighter than Dick's star, one with a hint of teenage youthfulness and strength.

Stephanie smiled, touching the screen with her right palm.

“Is that yours? Are you in your final form?" She asked with a small smile. “Did that appear because I’m Spoiler again?”

The moon gave a little deliberate twirl and Stephanie grinned.

She pulled out her grappling gun and then opened the window to her apartment. She jumped out onto the roof and aimed the grappling hook. With a single shot, she hit a building and then jumped, flying through the air with a loud whoop.

The Spoiler was back.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Soooo much lore. I’m not sure who would’ve betrayed the Justice League, but knowing DC’s long history, there’s probably someone, right??

Nothing makes me lmao more than having Dan hate on Jason and Tim bc they’re too close to his sisters.

Tucker with the ability to communicate with Steph through tech!!

Him guiding her through becoming a hero on her own right without Batman 🥹 the reason why she feels different from the other Robins is bc she actually doesn’t feel different, she’s just doesn’t understand the feeling.

Also, has anyone noticed that a lot of the events that make a Robin who they are is basically Bruce being a jerk or an uncommunicative asshole? Like seriously, I'm struggling to make him a good dad sometimes.

Planet classification is not as fun as stellar classification… but Tucker is an extragalactic, chthonian, and desert or terrestrial giant exoplanet. Extragalactic = outside of the Milky Way, chthonian = a gas giant that’s been stripped of its gas layers and circles really close to its star, terrestrial = made of rocks or metals, exoplanet = a planet that orbits another star from the Sun.

…. Ik it’s a lot, but I had to get specific. In essence however, he’s just a terrestrial giant exoplanet. He’s big, but only around the size of Neptune or Uranus.

Why does Stephanie get saved but not Jason? You will find out :) writing these as one-shots mean that they take time, also bc I’m close to finals and my classes are getting harder.

[callsign-fox]

Wingman - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

Been sitting in the drafts/Lightly edited

Written with @fanficgirl429 <3

18+ Only // Enjoy xo

--------------------------------------------------------

When you sign on to be a pilot for the Navy as a female, you know you’ll have to put up with egotistical men on a daily basis, however, it’s not until you have to work with them that you realize how incredibly self centered they actually are. 

The canopy to my jet raised and I quickly climbed down the ladder. My wingman, Rooster, landed right behind me and he was currently maneuvering his jet into the assigned spot beside mine. Rooster was not my first choice for a wingman, he wasn’t my second or third either. It was near impossible to work with him and I was sure our superiors were getting ready to ship one of us off to Guam just to separate us from one another. Fortunately for them, we were two of the best the Navy had to offer and so for that reason alone, we were stuck together. 

I glanced up from my current conversation with my flight crew just as Rooster walked by, his head down and stupid aviator sunglasses shielding his eyes. I rolled my eyes as he continued by not saying a word. Of course he wouldn't say anything, he was the reason we failed the exercise.

“That was a disaster,” I mumbled to myself.

I turned behind me just as my friend Phoenix walked by. “What was going on up there?” she asked, watching    

Bradley as he disappeared into the locker room. 

“I don’t know. Why don’t you go ask Bradley and report it back to me?” 

Phoenix shook her head. “No thanks. I’m slightly terrified of him when he’s angry.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Well, he’s an asshole.”

Phoenix glanced back at the locker room before looking over at me. She lowered her voice as she said, “I have to tell you something about Bradley and it’s probably going to make you mad.” 

“Well if it has to do with Bradley, of course it’s going to make me mad.”

Phoenix sighed and began, “Well, I was at the Hard Deck the other night and ran into Anders. Apparently there is a rumor going around about you back in the Academy.” 

My eyes narrowed in on her and I clenched my fist, “About what?”

“Now don't shoot the messenger, you can be scary sometimes too.” 

“Phoenix!” I yelled, losing my patience. 

“Apparently Bradley started a rumor that the only reason you got into Top Gun was because you…” Phoenix trailed off. 

My heart began to race and I felt my cheeks grow hot. “Because I what?” 

“Because you gave Admiral Rhodes a blow job.” 

“What?” I shrieked and quickly began to walk towards the locker room. 

When I reached the door to the men's locker room, I pulled it open and immediately locked eyes with Hangman. A towel hung off his hips, showing off his incredible abs. I tore my eyes away, feeling a blush creep up my neck. 

“Where is he?” I asked. 

Without hesitating, Hangman pointed towards the back, where I assumed the showers were. There was only one shower being used and I walked over and pushed the white curtain aside. 

“Hey!” a very familiar voice shouted. “What the fuck?” 

I took a step back, not wanting to get wet. Bradley reached out and grabbed his white towel from the hook and wrapped it around his waist. I couldn’t help but notice how well built he was. His six pack abs were on full display and I hated how much I wanted to run my fingers along them. 

“What do you want Y/N?” 

My eyes snapped away from his body and I stared into his brown eyes. “I heard a rumor about me. One that you might happen to know about.” 

Bradley narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Yea, I might happen to know what you’re referring to.” 

“Are you insane? What did I do to you besides tolerate you every damn day for the last four years!”

Bradley shrugged. “I’ve been a delight! You have done nothing but drive me insane.”

“You didn't know, the only reason I’m here is to drive you crazy!”

Bradley laughed. “Nope. The only reason you’re here is because you gave Admiral Rhodes a blow job.” 

My jaw dropped and I couldn't help but growl at him. “That never happened! I hate you so much.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, the feeling is mutual.” 

I took a step forward and shoved him hard causing him to stumble back into the shower, but before I could react his hand grabbed my wrist, pulling me under the hot stream of water. To my amusement my hands were pressed against his chest, and before I could register what I was doing my nails ran down his toned abs to the top of his towel. The moment was over when I pulled my hands away and brushed them through my now wet hair. 

“Do you have any idea how attractive you are when you’re mad at me?” he said, his voice low. 

His words caught me off guard. “Wait, what?”

The hot water was still running over my body and I was becoming increasingly aware of just how see through my white t-shirt was when I noticed Bradley’s eyes looking down at my chest. 

“I know I shouldn't be this turned on right now, but I am.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed a piece of wet hair behind my ear. “You’re such a prick.”

Bradley ran his tongue along his lower lip and smiled. A moment later his lips came crashing into mine. The urge to push him off of me came and went as my hands snaked around his neck and I began twirling my fingers through his hair. 

His lips moved quickly as he placed his hands on my hips, pulling me closer to him. My body was pressed against his and I could feel his erection against my stomach. My core slightly throbbed, begging to be touched by him. 

Bradley’s fingers toyed with the bottom of my wet t-shirt before he slipped them under and pulled the shirt over my head, barely breaking the kiss. My shirt dropped to the floor and I quickly pushed it away with my foot. By now the rest of the guys would have left, but I pulled the shower curtain shut just in case. 

His lips brushed softly against my neck before pressing against my ear and whispered, “Does that mean you want me to keep going?” 

My fingers toyed with the top of Bradley’s towel as I gave him a slight nod. His hands gripped my waist and he swiftly spun us around so that my back was pressed against the wall. Bradley hurriedly unbuttoned my wet jean shorts and pushed them down my waist before dropping them to the floor. He quickly turned off the water as it began to get cold, but not before our lips were once again intertwined. In the mess of clothes coming off, I hadn’t even noticed his towel dropped to the floor, proving to me that the rumors about how endowed Bradley Bradshaw was, were indeed true. 

“Well, well. I guess I won’t ever be able to spread anymore rumors about how small Rooster is.” 

He pulled back, slightly offended. “Wait, what have you been telling people?” 

I let out a small laugh. “What’s done is done, YOU told people I gave an admiral a blow job.” 

“And if you’re any good at it, I'll be sure to pass that on and your spot in Top Gun will have been well deserved.” 

I gave him a small smack on his arm before reaching over and placing my hand against his chest. My eyes locked with his as I slowly began to run my fingers down his chest and towards his stomach. My polished nails left faint red lines on his skin and Bradley looked all too amused as he watched me drop down to my knees. 

Bradley sucked in his breath as my hand wrapped around him. I slowly moved my hand along his length, which by Bradley’s reaction of pressing his hand to the wall to steady himself, was a good move. I gently grazed my tongue over his tip and his free hand instinctively moved to my long brown hair, giving it a slight tug. I smiled as his hips jerked forward, pushing his length further into my mouth. I didn’t miss a beat as I continued with my lips wrapped around him, causing him to let out a deep moan and pull tighter on my hair.

“Y/N,” Bradley breathed, “you need to stop…now.”

I let out a small chuckle before standing up and Bradley immediately pulled me against him. He placed his lips against mine, kissing me quickly. One hand wrapped around my waist, while the other moved up my stomach and towards my chest. His fingers played with my nipple, causing it to stand erect. With each touch, my core throbbed from being ignored by him. I rubbed my thighs together, trying to ease the tension but Bradley noticed. His hand moved from my chest, along my stomach, and towards my core. 

His calloused fingers ran along my center, coming to a stop at my sensitive spot. Two fingers rubbed against it and I let out a moan. Bradley’s lips continued to move against mine and he slipped two fingers inside me. He moved them against me and I could feel my high quickly approaching with each movement. 

“I’m close,” I told him. 

His fingers continued to move and it didn’t take long before my walls were clenching around him. My legs became weak and Bradley placed his hands on my hips, helping me steady myself. It had been a while since I had an orgasm that intense. 

Once I was able to stand on my own, I reached down and placed my hand on his erection. He took a step closer to me. 

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” he asked. 

“If you ask me one more time, I’m going to walk out of here,” I told him. 

“You’re making it really hard to hate you right now,” Bradley said, while placing a hand on the back of my thigh. 

My leg wrapped around his waist, and without hesitation Bradley pushed his length inside of me, my walls stretching around him. A gasp escaped my lips and Bradley smiled.

“You’re so tight.” 

He gave me a moment to get used to the size before he began to move his hips against mine. 

Each thrust pushed me closer to my second climax of the day. I let out a loud gasp as his length hit the perfect spot. 

Bradley smirked as I continued to melt against his touch. 

“I’m so close,” I whispered. 

He reached down and pressed two fingers against my sensitive spot, rubbing it casually. 

Within moments my walls clenched around him and my legs became weak. The humidity from the shower made our bodies sticky and sweaty, which only helped my arousal. Bradley continued thrusting and seconds later he released inside of me, a moan escaping his lips. 

The two of us stood there for a moment, catching our breaths. Bradley stared at me and I smiled shyly, fully realizing that we were both completely naked. I reached for the towel he had hung on the side of the shower and wrapped it around my waist. 

“That was mine.” 

I stepped out of the shower, reaching down and picking up my soaked t-shirt and shorts that had lazily been pushed aside. “These are the only clothes I have with me. How am I supposed to get home?” 

He walked over to his duffle bag that was sitting on the bathroom bench and pulled out a gray t-shirt. “Here you go. I can get it back from you tomorrow, after training.”

“That would imply I am inviting you over to get it, and I haven’t.” 

“Oh,” Bradley said with a wink. “You will invite me over.” And once again there was that attitude I knew and hated.

[witchygirl212]

LUCID DREAM

warning(s): spoilers, lot`s of them. Just a lot of fluff, angst if you squint;

a/n: It’s a very short piece about the reader and Astarion. After watching so many baldur’s gate content I fell in love with Astarion and I hope I can portray him nicely here ;). Gif not mine.

After the battle has been won, Cazador dead, feelings confessed and a future together building slowly, he needs to breath. They find themselves sitting on the stairs of an old mansion they now have chosen to call home, the light of the moon coats the pale elf in a cold light, making him more ethereal than usual, while she watches him in complete silence. The promise of forever, braving the world together exhilarates him at the same time it scares. It`s all so new, this freedom. Shackled for 200 yeas and now he is free, yet he has no idea what to do. So many things come to mind at the same time, and at the same time none at all. He feels so much, and nothing at all, but-

“Astarion?” She prompts him softy, a hand coming to caress his cheeks, pushing a stray curl behind his ear.

“Yes, love?” Mirth coats his voice, yet she sees right through his attempt of charming her- she always does.

“Tell me, please?” The vampire smiles crookedly, turning his sights away from the bright moon and towards the cobblestone bellow. A great sigh leaves him and after twisting his fingers nervously, letting out a humorless laugh, he finally turn to her. He is faced with soft, welcoming eyes and a small smile as she gazes into his eyes. Astarion offers his hand and without much thought she places hers in his. He tugs her closer, their knees touching and another heavy sigh leaves him before he can speak again.

“It’s just- I’m free, right? But, it feels so… hard. I keep coming back to those moments before his death, all that anger, pain. I can`t just let go of it all, forget it. Sometimes I feel like I’m dragging you down, having to cope with this mess of feeling. And I know what you’ll say- ‘You love me and nothing will change that’, but sometimes it’s just, hard”.

Her looks shift, and before he can call it one of pity, she holds his hand tighter, bringing her other hand to entangle with their hold. “I know, and I can’t even begin to fathom all that you’ve been though and I’ll hate that bastard until the end of my days, but you can talk to me. All that you want to say, I’ll listen. I love you, Astarion. And I’ll love you through all hardships, that is what we promised, wasn’t it?”

He stares at her again, gazing deeply into her eyes, her soul, searching for any trace of falsehood, yet he finds none. He thinks it silly, how he still distrusts her on occasions, hates himself for it. He should be able to trust her completely, but 200 years of abuse impedes him. But, he braves though it, pushes though his distrust and meets her warm embrace, reminding himself in her arms of the love and trust they share, at lets go. His arms tighter around her waist as his mouth meets her neck, delivering a sweet kiss to her pulse point. She drives her fingers through his curls, petting his hair slowly.

“I wonder,” He says softly, voice slightly muffled, “what comes after. Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in a lucid dream, trapped in my place as the world turns around me. I know I have carved a new beginning in stone, I know we are together always, I know my undying love for you, for us, and sometimes it all eludes me. Like I’m looking through blurry water. I just wished I could be more for you. Give myself fully. And I swear I’m trying my best to be the new and improved Astarion, believe me. I just wished it was easier”.

She pulls back slightly, cradling his chin to twist his face slowly towards her. She caresses his cheek lovingly, love overflowing from her gaze. A soft kiss is placed on his forehead, his eyes closing as their noses brush in a caress. No words are needed, for she knows now is not the time for sweet words. She comforts him with her presence, her listening ears, for him to whisper his fears and anxiety, to brave through his negative thoughts, to live the wonders, to acknowledge his feelings, to express all of him. They hug for a moment as the cold wind of the night brushes their hairs astray, but it does not disturb their little corner of peace, away from the world. Then, she untangles from him, getting up and offering her hand for him to take.

“Let’s go inside, shall we? I feel rather chilly and would rather cuddle in our soft couch in front of our fireplace”.

He smiles, a big and true smile, like the ones he always gives her, because it’s her. Astarion takes her hand and she tugs him up. Crashing softly into each other as they let out quiet laughs. He tugs her close to him by her waist, delivering a sweet his to her lips, dragging his hands lowers until she pushes back, reprimanding him with a glare of false disapproval as he laughs loudly.

“Of course, my darling”. He delivers a kiss next to her ear, “I’ll be delighted to ravish you inside”. Astarion follows her inside while they both laugh. He delivers a delicate kiss to her mouth before he closes the door and is filled with warmth once again. No words are said, just small laughs, velvety touches and each other, for always.

[icallhimjoey]

Define Close

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: What good are flatmates even, if they don't comfort you when you need it most? Or when you need it a normal amount? Or, you know, when you don't really need it, but just really want it?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, afab!reader, hurt/comfort i guess? idk we're sad a lot and joe cheers us up a lot, talk of period blood getting onto things

Author’s note: i need everyone to understand that there's no real plot going on here, it's just.... it's just vibes, i hope thats ok!

Wordcount: 3.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

You looked at your reflection and sighed deeply.

With your tummy sticking out more than usual, no matter how much you tried to suck it in, with your boobs feeling sore, and with your mood swinging like a pendulum in a hurricane, there really was no denying the monthly doom that resided in your lower stomach.

Obviously, the cramps accompanied by your uterine lining leaking out of you was plenty proof, but just in case that didn’t sell it, your jawline decided a few big spots would be just the thing to remind you of the fact that you were dealing with hormones. That you were a woman. One with a period.

It fucking sucked.

Painkillers helped a lot. Really dulled the sharpness of the cramps and the persistent ache in your lower back.

But they didn’t help the irritability. Or the complete lack of patience you harboured. Or the cravings. Or the need to drown yourself in oversized clothing.

Joe had noticed.

Oh, he had noticed.

He noticed the lead up to it as well, your PMS, but didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to check if he was right, because asking if you were on your period after you snapped at him for something you wouldn’t have pointed out at any other time, was exactly what would get you to snap at him.

But then, when he wanted to throw on one of his hoodies, he noticed that the one he pulled out of his wardrobe wasn’t his.

You had the same one, just a size or two smaller. The women’s fit slightly different from his.

“Hey, I think this is–” Joe’d walked over and stopped in your doorway.

You were sat on your bed, one foot on the floor and the other pressed into the mattress as you put on the coziest pair of socks you owned.

“Yea, that’s mine.” Joe pointed right at you. “This one is yours.”

You looked at what Joe was holding, then down at your own frame, and you knew he was right.

“No, it’s not.”

But you weren’t going to admit that you might have mixed them up when you’d done laundry the other day. His was baggier. Easier to hide yourself away in. Large enough to curl your knees up into, if you wanted to.

And, you wanted to.

“Yes, it is, look,” Joe took hold of the hoodie in his hands by the shoulder seam, held it in front of him to show how short it was on him.

You didn’t care.

You weren’t going to take off the hoodie you were wearing just because Joe barged into your room with wild claims about you having made a mistake.

No.

You had.

But... no.

“Looks fine.” You said dryly, voice flat, facial expression completely neutral.

“Looks fine? What– oh, my God,” Joe huffed, and just to show how right he was, he moved his arms into the hoodie to put it on. “Can’t even get my shoulders in properly, see, watch this,” Joe made a show of stretching the fabric, pulled it over his head and pretended to get stuck a second.

When it was fully on, you saw how it was obviously not Joe’s fit.

Because that was your hoodie.

Made sense.

You just stared at him, both feet on the floor now, shoulders slumped, and Joe made a face, eyebrows raised high, as if to say, see?

Um.

Could Joe not read the room?

You said it looked fine.

When Joe didn’t budge after you just blankly stared at him a minute, you audibly sighed. Let it rumble in your throat to really make sure Joe understood what an absolute bitch he was being, and started taking an arm out of a sleeve to take it off.

Fine.

“No, you don’t–” Joe sighed, huffed a laugh, and you froze. “You don’t have to take it off, just, that one’s mine. Get it back to me later.”

And somehow, that just pissed you off even more.

“Well then why the fuck make such a fuss about it in the first place?” you raised your voice, brow furrowed deep, clearly annoyed. “My God, Joe,” you grumbled, sticking your arm back into the sleeve and getting up.

“All right,” Joe indignantly spat back, expression wild, clearly not all right with the way you were speaking to him.

You frowned at each other a second.

“What?” you snapped when he didn’t say anything.

Joe looked ridiculous in your hoodie. It had eaten up half the hem of his T-shirt underneath, exposing some of his bare stomach just above the waistband of his jeans.

“What?” Joe mocked you, high pitched voice and all, and you were sure it was meant to showcase your vile attitude and make you turn it down a notch.

It did the opposite.

“Thank you, Joe, for letting me borrow your clothes and not being a real dick about it,” Joe said pointedly, and then changed his facial expression into a wide grin that nearly squeezed his eyes shut and responded to himself with a much nicer, “Not a problem, you’re so welcome.”

You blankly stared at him once more, and then winced a little when you felt the faint sting of a cramp that managed to push through the painkillers you’d taken earlier.

You needed your hot water bottle.

“Thank you, Joe,” you spat at him, angrier than you meant it, and you were about to walk around him, to make your way out of your room.

But Joe blocked your path by moving to the side an inch, just enough to stop you in your stride.

He raised a well-meaning hand, was about to touch you on the arm or the shoulder, you didn’t know what he was going for, because you slapped it away before he could make contact. You used flappy hands that slapped his hand and arm several times. Made Joe flinch, duck into his shoulders and step aside.

The snort of laughter that startled out of him made you actually want to hurt him. You weren’t being funny.

“Are you being se–”

You used both hands to shove him, just for good purchase, making him lose balance and step back to catch himself. It felt a little like how you used to fight your brother as a teenager, big difference being that Joe wasn’t fighting back.

Joe called your name after you when you walked out.

“Leave me alone!” you called over your shoulder.

And you’d meant those words then. Felt a little like you were 16 again.

You were achy, and bloated, and in pain, and not in the mood for any of Joe’s usual goofy shit.

But regret came shortly after. Because you definitely weren’t 16 anymore.

You found your hot water bottle and filled it up with the hottest water your tap could manage. Shoved it into the kangaroo pocket of Joe’s hoodie and felt how your lack of patience for everything and everyone also meant you didn’t have any of yourself.

You didn’t actually want Joe to leave you alone.

And, had you had the patience, you would’ve moped around for a bit. Would’ve drowned in your own pride for ages, because normally, you were stubborn like that.

Not now though.

You didn’t hesitate to make your way back over to Joe’s room, where you found him in front of his wardrobe in his T-shirt. His bedroom was messy, clothes sort of... everywhere. Some on the floor, some piled up on a chair in the corner. Your hoodie laid discarded on his bed as he pulled another from a pile. Standing in his doorway, you just watched him and waited, and felt how your lip pulled into a sad pout all by itself.

Joe had put on his hoodie, one that actually fit him this time, before he even noticed you were there. When he did see you, he sighed at the look of you and then comically gave you a pout of his own as his head dropped to his shoulder.

Then you just looked at each other a second.

You could’ve easily said you were sorry for that bullshit you just pulled. This was the perfect moment.

And Joe would have easily accepted it too, you knew.

But you didn’t really have to say the words.

A lot of things went unsaid between the two of you.

And this was one of them.

“All right,” Joe said definitively, like he’d just decided something. He looked around, bent to pick up some clothes, and said, “Go on, I need to get this sorted. I’ll join you in a minute.”

There was no need to hide your smile.

Cat that got the cream.

If you hadn’t had hot water sloshing around in your pocket, you would’ve skipped over to the sofa.

You let yourself fall back into the corner of the L-shaped sofa and it was only about a minute later before Joe walked into the living area and closed the door of the hallway behind him.

“Do you want some tea?”

“Ooh, yes. Big mug, please.”

And whilst you scrolled through Netflix's new releases and asked which one’s Joe hadn’t seen yet, Joe put the kettle on and prepared two steaming mugs of builder’s tea, done exactly how you liked it.

This was the kind of stuff Sundays were made for, you thought.

You could do without the dull ache in your lower stomach, but the hot water bottle felt nice and comforting, and now you were going to watch a film with your flatmate. No doubt you’d have pizza for dinner later.

When Joe eventually joined you, he carefully put the mugs down on the coffee table and then turned to grab hold of your knees that he pushed aside.

“Move, this is my spot.”

If you were just going by his tone of voice, you could’ve been fooled he was being serious. His eyes gave him away, though.

“I was sitting there.”

Joe hadn’t even been close to the sofa all day, you thought, but... it worked.

It got you to laugh as you let yourself be shoved aside just enough for Joe to squeeze right into the corner, using his knees and elbows to make enough room for himself. Arguably, it was the best spot of the whole sofa, especially right in the centre of it, where you could feel the sofa cushions curve around your shoulders on both sides. Fighting over who got to sit there made sense.

Joe sat down, wormed himself into place, and it left you pressed into his side with your back, his shoulder digging into the area between your shoulder blades. You felt how he wiggled his bum as he settled before he let out a content sigh.

“So comfy. Are you comfy? I’m so comfy.”

Joe pushed harder into your upper back, and you gave a deadpan stare into space before you swore under your breath and tried to hit him, reaching for him over your shoulder. Playful this time, though. Joe was laughing, and so were you.

He caught your hand, which had no malicious intent, and helped you manoeuvre until you were both comfortable. You ended up with both legs swung over his lap, both tucked into the corner where even without a blanket covering you, it felt incredibly cosy. Joe let both his hands rest on your legs, one on a shin, the other just above a knee, and you took hold of one of his arms to hug, hand curling around a bicep.

“What’s this?” Joe saw a bit of rubber stick out from your pocket.

“Hot water bottle.” You answered, eyes not moving from the TV screen where you tried to read a bit of information on a film you thought looked interesting.

Joe frowned at it.

“Are you cold?”

“No,”

Then Joe frowned at you, stared at the side of your face.

“Just in pain.”

He only hesitated for a second, because ten minutes ago he was afraid to say anything, knew it would’ve likely made you attempt to give him an actual black eye then, but this felt like the moment he was allowed to bring it up.

“Are you on your period?” Joe asked quietly, voice soft and serious, but it made you huff a laugh anyway.

“What gave it away?”

You were well aware of how ridiculous you were behaving. But instead of making fun, Joe turned soft. Asked if you had taken any painkillers. If there was anything else you needed to feel better. If pressing his elbow into the hot water bottle a little, to give it some pressure, helped.

You ended up choosing a film neither of you had ever heard of, and after Joe nearly let you drop onto the floor as he sat up to get the mugs of tea, you settled in properly.

Everything was so warm.

The tea was warm, the heat coming from inside of your pocket was warm, and Joe was warm.

About twenty minutes in, Joe carefully took the empty mug from your hand and chuckled lowly.

“Are you falling asleep already?”

“No.”

You absolutely were. Your eyes were still open though, just slightly drooped and blinking slowly, but you were still watching TV.

You weren’t really following what was happening though, weren’t really watching. This was something that tended to happen when you put on a film that was more something of Joe’s liking, rather than yours.

“I’m not even tired.”

A lie.

Joe didn’t fight you on it though.

Instead, you felt how he turned to you a little before a hand snuck under, into your your hoodie and found burning hot skin, the soft flesh of your lower stomach. When you didn’t flinch at his touch, Joe softly pressed his fingers in and started rubbing side to side.

“Does that help?”

“Mhmm,”

It did.

Joe was a good flatmate.

His soft kindness kind of made you want to cry a little.

The fact that none of your ex-boyfriends had ever been like this angered you to no end. It had always just been mocking jokes and complaints, always stupid comments on how they couldn’t go near you for a week now. You didn’t know how that was your fault, exactly, but it always got treated as such.

It probably took about five more minutes before you’d dozed off completely.

Wasn’t your fault that Joe made everything so nice and comfortable, all warm and nice. You’d argue that the rubbing of your stomach Joe was doing, he solely did to make you fall asleep in the first place.

Which was exactly right.

Joe loved it when you fell asleep on him.

Loved the soft and gentle touches he got to give that made you hum with satisfaction.

Loved that somehow this was just what you did without it being weird. Well it was weird, but only in the best way. Weird without the need to discuss anything, without the need to have an awkward chat about what any of it meant.

It didn’t mean anything. Not in the sense people would probably assume if they knew that you spent your time together like this a lot. But it also didn't mean nothing.

Joe knew it meant something.

To him it did, anyway.

Just... something to be determined later. Or maybe even never. He wasn’t sure.

What he was sure about, was that he fucking loved it. Couldn’t get enough of it.

He could’ve just woken up from the longest sleep of his life, have the energy to power through several days without issue, but having you curl up all pressed into his side? You’d fall asleep so easily, and then what chance did Joe even stand? It would leave him just as drowsy. Nine times out of ten, he’d slowly drift off too.

Which is exactly what happened this time as well.

Your slow rhythmic breathing linked up, two lax bodies sagged into one another for at least a good hour, hour and a half. When you did finally stir awake, it was to the end credits of the film and to cramps that felt like something was quite literally trying to eat you alive.

You groaned at the pain and pushed your forehead into Joe’s arm, muscles tensed, coaxing you to double over.

Joe awoke with a sharp inhale.

“Hey,” he whispered. “You all right?”

“Fine,” you croaked softly, voice a little strained.

You were fine, you know, in the grand scheme of things. Just something you had to deal with in the moment, that you knew would pass within a day. Mostly, it was just very annoying.

“Need the toilet.” you frowned as you struggled taking the now cooled hot water bottle out of the large pocket of Joe’s hoodie and let your legs slide down Joe’s lap until your feet touched the floor.

Joe sat up too, and groaned loudly as he stretched in an attempt to wake up a little more. He blinked a few times before he yawned and watched you disappear into the hallway in his hoodie.

He decided then that he was never going to make an issue of it again. You could wear anything from inside his wardrobe, and he’d make sure to keep his mouth shut. He didn’t even really know why he brought it up earlier in the way that he had done.

You made your way to your own bathroom, your ensuite, where you kept all of your tampons. When you sat down on the toilet, you saw how you’d fully bled through... well, through everything.

“Oh noo,” you called out, loudly, so Joe could hear.

“What?”

“Did I bleed onto the sofa?”

The question echoed through your flat, and you only realised after the words had already reached Joe’s ears that you probably should have been embarrassed to even ask.

You realised then that you weren’t.

Which was weird. But, weird in the best way.

“Yea, a little,” Joe called back, and you made a frustrated noise. Getting period blood onto anything was sort of gross and annoying, but onto a light coloured sofa that was difficult to clean? The most gross and annoying.

That was likely going to stain, and then, from now until forever, you’d see that stain every time you’d sit down and you’d be reminded of that one time when you bled through all your clothes.

When you’d have people over, they’d see.

When Joe had people over, they’d see.

Mortified.

You were more embarrassed for anyone else to see a faint period blood stain than you were for Joe to see a fresh one.

Wild.

You hurried through cleaning yourself up. Found new underwear and leggings to wear. Double checked if Joe’s hoodie was fine, which, thank fuck, it was.

“Sorry, I know that’s so disgusting, I’ll clean that–”

“It’s gone.”

You walked in and saw Joe stand up straight from a hunched position, damp dishcloth in hand.

“There was barely anything there, it’s fine.”

Joe bent down again and gave it another rub.

You just... stood there.

Blinking.

Staring.

“You... you cleaned it?”

“Yea, sofa looks fine. Wet now, though.”

“You cleaned my period blood...” emphasis on the period blood.

Joe looked up, made eye-contact and slowly grinned at your facial expression. Then he shrugged. He didn’t think this had to be a big deal, because to him, it wasn’t.

You were flatmates.

You lived in each other’s flat.

Shared a living space.

Were close.

“Yea.” Joe said all casual as he made his way back to the kitchen, presumably to wash the dishcloth in the sink.

“No worries. Should we get a pizza?”

You confiscated it when he walked past you, though.

He wasn’t going to rinse out your bodily fluids, your vaginal fluids, in the kitchen sink.

That’s where you prepared food, for fuck’s sake.

That dishcloth was going straight into the laundry.

“You’re insane.” was all you could muster up in response to what you’d just witnessed, and Joe just laughed. Didn’t think he was being insane at all. Thought you wouldn’t shy away from cleaning his blood off of furniture if he got some on anything, so why would he be weird about cleaning yours?

You were close.

And sure, ask literally anyone else, and this would definitely be classified as weird.

But, Joe was all right with weird.

Because it was weird in the best way.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry