#i got back from hands like houses an hour ago

[inawickedlittletown]

One Year - BuckTommy - 8x06 fix it

Summary: This is my fix-it because I for one can't take that break up being the end. So, it takes a while, but they belong together. Words: 6k Read on Ao3

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The first time he saw Evan again, it was from afar. It had been a couple of weeks. They were at the same call, Tommy somehow winding up on the ground. He spotted Evan walking next to Eddie with Howie and Hen just ahead of them, heard their voices despite how loud everything was. He kept his distance, and only once ran into someone from the 118. Ravi, who gave him a smile and nod. 

The next time, it was at one of the badge and ladder bars. Lucy had forced him to go. Had she not been holding his arm, he would have turned and fled. Instead he saw Evan throw back a shot and then walk over to some guy whose physique told Tommy he had to be a firefighter. He saw as Evan said something that made the other guy laugh and then they were getting drinks together and…and Lucy took him out the door while he tried to catch a breath. 

Tommy wasn’t new to a break up…it was just that this one was hitting harder than any before. 

Before Evan, there had been three boyfriends. Before and in between were hookups and one-night stands and even some friends with benefits that popped in and out of his life. He’d come out when he was in his early thirties, around the same age as Evan. Of course, for Tommy it had been different. He’d been hiding it from everyone and even from himself. 

In the army, he and some other guys had had a bit of fun. Masturbating together and pretending it was all fine and heterosexual because they weren’t touching each other. He’d exchanged one or two blowjobs here or there like an exchange of favors with guys that had girlfriends waiting for them back home. He lied and told them he had a girl too. Pretended he didn’t like giving as much as he liked receiving. 

Things were much the same when he was at the 118, except that pretending he had a girlfriend was harder. He even tried to date women. Abby…he’d met Abby when the 118 went to a call about her mother. She’d almost burnt down her whole house by forgetting to turn off a stove and looking back that had definitely been an early sign of her dementia. Abby was nice and Tommy couldn’t deny that he got along with her and it helped that she understood how busy his job kept him and what his hours were like. 

Dating Abby was the first time he felt like maybe he could do it. Marry the girl. Have some kids. Lie to himself and the world forever. As unfair as it was to Abby, it just…Tommy could tell that it might work. It was why they got engaged. It was why he was so sure about getting married but then there were guys he met on calls or that he checked out from time to time and he didn’t think he would ever be able to put that away. Instead, he would wind up cheating on Abby and making the hurt worse. So, he broke it off and felt horrible when he realized that Abby had gotten the blow of her mom’s dementia diagnosis.

After Abby, Tommy went a little wild. He slept around. Found out more about himself. Knew that he could never do what he did to Abby to any other woman. He heard at some point about Abby taking up with a younger guy. In what universe could Tommy have expected that years later he would date the same guy. 

One night, he ran into Karen at a Target of all places. Tommy was there to pick up detergent and he was just deciding between brand name or the store brand and also trying his hardest to not buy the brand he knew that Evan used, when a cart bumped into his. 

“I’m so sorry,” Karen said. 

He looked up slowly. 

“Tommy,” Karen said warmly. “Hi.” 

Behind her came Denny and Mara. Mara he’d only met a handful of times and he knew her to be a little shy. Denny smiled at him. 

“Hi, Tommy.”

“Oh. Hi,” Tommy said. “You got your cast off.” 

Denny nodded. “A little while ago.” 

He remembered sitting in that hospital waiting room and how he’d tagged along to Denny’s room and hadn’t expected that Denny would want him to sign his cast seeing as he was all but a stranger, but Denny did offer him the marker and Tommy did sign.

Despite wanting to, he didn’t ask about Evan. He hardly managed to ask about Hen. 

“She’s good,” Karen said and then, “hey, listen, you don’t have to be a stranger.” 

He offered her a tight smile. 

“I’m serious. Hey, how about dinner soon?”

He shrugged and Karen insisted, pulling out her phone and throwing dates at him until he agreed. 

Before she left, Karen grabbed his arm. “I don’t know what happened, no one really does, Hen says he doesn’t want to talk about it. You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to, but that doesn’t mean you’re not our friend still, Alright? That doesn’t just go for Hen and I, either.” 

Eddie had reached out the day after. The day after that too. And the one after that one. Then it was weekly. Then it was bi-weekly. Then came a final message. A voicemail. Tommy almost didn’t listen to it. 

“Hey, man,” Eddie said. “I guess you decided to cut all ties. I get it. Kind of. And look, Buck is my friend, but you are too and I don’t drop my friends. I know you’re hurting too, so don’t be afraid to reach out. I’m here for whenever you’re ready.” 

Tommy never called him. He thought about it. Almost texted him several times. He missed Eddie. 

He missed their easy friendship and the way that Eddie had welcomed him so wholly. He just couldn’t face him because Eddie would give it all away about how Evan was doing and Tommy wouldn’t be able to keep his own feelings in. It would burst out and then Eddie would know just how horrible Tommy really felt and how regretful too. 

He did regret it. 

He hated himself. 

Tommy went to dinner with Hen and Karen. It was good. Fun, even. Neither of them asked and Tommy didn’t offer any information. Instead, he got to hear about Mara’s adoption going through finally and about how Maddie was pregnant and doing really well. He tried not to think about Evan becoming an uncle for the second time and how excited he had to be over it. They exchanged Lucy stories and then stories from way back when Tommy was in the 118. Tommy promised they would do dinner again. 

The next time he ran into Evan, it had been more time than they had even been together. Tommy shouldn’t still be mourning the end of the relationship and yet…of course he was. Of course he still missed Evan desperately. So much for waylaying a heartbreak, there hadn’t been stopping that apparently and seeing Evan was like having someone reach right into his chest and squeeze. 

The first guy that he ever called boyfriend was a guy named Ivan. Ivan was a little older…okay, much older, and Tommy thought he was in love. Figured that was it and that he and Ivan could be forever. When Ivan broke it off because he met someone else, Tommy was devastated. 

“Tommy, I’m your first boyfriend, of course this wasn’t going to last. I always thought we were on the same page and that this was a bit of fun.” 

A month or so later, Tommy realized that Ivan was right. He wasn’t torn up and he hadn’t been in love as much as wanting the security of the relationship because it meant he didn’t need to keep looking for love. He’d gotten comfortable with Ivan, but what they hadn’t wasn’t something that would last no matter how much Tommy had thought it was what he wanted. 

The second guy came a year or so later. Paul was younger and Tommy met him while they were on a call. When Paul came by with muffins a few days later they got talking and Paul admitted that he was nervous but he’d wanted to see Tommy again. They had a few dates and then Tommy was rushing in with Paul. They spent every moment together and then moved in together too. 

When they broke up right before their one year anniversary, it was because Paul admitted that he never thought his first real relationship with a guy could be his last and that he had more options to explore. 

“Tommy, you were amazing. You will always be so important to me, but I’m not in love with you.” 

Somehow, that still hurt less than Evan and Tommy only had himself to blame for that. 

He saw Evan at a farmer’s market. He was with Jee-Yun who skipped ahead of him laughing. Evan was smiling after her. Tommy didn’t mean to follow, but he did keep his distance. Saw Evan buy a few things and smile at the girl that sold them to him, saw him stop at a stand selling apple cider, the man behind the counter blond and tall and bulky. Hot. His eyes were hazel and he was smiling at Evan and ignoring anyone else that approached. Evan was smiling back and doing that thing where he ducked his head bashfully before looking up through his eyelashes. Tommy’s heart ached. 

Tommy walked away from that. He turned and he walked until he was back at his car and then he sat there in his truck and let his mind wander because what if Evan asked that guy out? Or the girl? What if one of them wasn’t dumb like Tommy and stuck around and refused to let Evan go. What if Tommy never got a chance to…but he’d already blown his chance with Evan and he doubted there would ever be another. 

When he got to his shift later, Lucy took one look at him.

“Hey, you okay?” 

“I don’t think I’ve been okay for months.” 

Lucy hugged him. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” she asked. 

He shook his head. 

It was hard to even admit to himself how much he’d screwed up and how much he’d allowed his fear to color how he faced Evan wanting more than what they already had. He’d been unprepared when Evan brought it up and then it had been the Abby of it all and the way that Tommy knew he couldn’t expect for Evan to settle for him. That just wasn’t how it worked. He was the first, but not the last. Tommy just wasn’t good enough to be Evan’s last and it was something that Evan would figure out sooner or later. So why wait for their whole lives to get even more entwined and for everything to be so much harder when it all fell apart. 

One night, when Lucy showed up at his house to hang out, she had tried to bad-talk Evan as if that would help. It was the night she dropped information that Tommy hadn’t known and wasn’t it wild how much he and Evan had inadvertently not shared. Six months and they hadn’t talked about anything at all, apparently. 

Lucy and Evan had kissed once while drunk at a bar. 

The jealousy that hit him was…Tommy wasn’t usually a jealous guy and yet the very idea made him cringe and maybe he downed two shots back to back. 

“I kissed him,” Lucy said. “He didn’t push me away and I had no idea that he had a girlfriend at the time.”

It didn’t make him think badly of Evan, not the way that Lucy maybe intended. It just…it made Tommy wonder about how it would have gone if he was right. Would Evan have cheated on him once he realized he wanted more than what Tommy was willing to offer. But no…no, that wasn’t Evan was it? No, Evan would have stuck it out even when he got miserable and didn’t want to anymore and then Tommy would have had to say something and end it. 

“What happened after that?” Tommy had asked. 

“Between me and Buck? Nothing. I’m just saying, he isn’t this perfect guy either.”

As if Tommy didn’t know that, as if Tommy hadn’t seen exactly who Evan was from the get go. He was a mess, he was jealous, impulsive, he believed in curses, got pouty when he didn’t get his way. Evan was far from perfect, but Tommy had loved him because of it. He saw how much of the bad was still good or maybe not even bad at all. 

Lucy did leave him thinking about how they had never discussed exes until Abby and how maybe they should have. He wondered if Evan would have even brought up the Lucy of it all. He wondered how he would have taken Tommy’s own exes…Ivan and Paul and…and Henry. 

Henry was the last boyfriend before Evan. Gorgeous Henry who began as a friend and then started to get a bit flirty and who kissed Tommy for the first time at a New Years Eve party and then freaked out because Tommy was a guy. 

Weeks of not talking and Tommy not being able to stop thinking about him to an obsessive degree. How on Valentine’s day, he was surprised when red roses and chocolate was delivered to Harbor from Henry to Tommy and a simple note asking him out. He’d gotten so much shit for that, but Tommy had secretly loved it. The romance of it all, the sweetness. Henry had been so sweet. 

Henry who told Tommy that he was sorry but he had no idea guys were an option for him and how he couldn’t deny how much he wanted Tommy. They had long conversations about it and Tommy took it so slow that they didn’t even have sex for the first two months. 

Tommy didn’t realize that their feelings were different. Tommy had been crushing on Henry even before the kiss and then he had him. Henry had been mystified by Tommy and his attraction to him, but it wasn’t long before his eyes started to wander. Tommy had bought his house right before they started dating and when Henry’s roommate situation got a bit difficult he welcomed him right in. It had felt like the start of the rest of their lives. That had been a mistake. 

Tommy had been so blind. Looking back, the red flags had been evident. He’d been blinded by love and friendship and daydreams about a future he thought was within his grasp. Then, one night, when he managed to sprain an ankle, Tommy was first taken to the hospital and then sent home a whole thirteen hours earlier than expected. Henry hadn’t answered his calls, so Tommy got back home on his own. He found Henry in bed with a woman. 

The last time he saw Henry, it was when Henry picked up the last of his things and when Henry made his apologies and excuses it felt like Ivan and Paul before him. 

Tommy was never enough. Not enough. Always the placeholder for something or someone better. 

“Why not just break up with me?” Tommy remembered asking. 

“I didn’t know how. You were so…I’m sorry, Tommy. I guess I’m not done trying to figure out what I want.” 

The one thing Henry had figured out was that Tommy was not what he wanted. 

He did cry after Henry and then he threw himself into work and downloaded an app or two and didn’t try to date seriously. He had friends to call on lonely nights and then he could hit up a bar and find someone that way. Tommy had all but convinced him that it was all he’d ever have, until he met a firefighter with a cute birthmark who Tommy kissed without having planned to and who he almost wrote off after the first date and was so glad he didn’t. Breaking up with Evan was hitting harder than anyone that came before. 

Evan was different. He had burrowed deep in his heart and there was no getting him out. Tommy didn’t think he wanted him out. 

A few weeks later, he saw Eddie at the mall and with him was Christopher. He looked taller than the last time Tommy had seen him, and he was in LA. Eddie looked happy. Of course, he was happy. Tommy hated that he didn’t know when Chris had returned or how Eddie had won him over again. 

“Tommy,” Eddie said. 

“Tommy,” Christopher said. 

Had it been just Eddie, Tommy might have ignored them. Instead, he turned around. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Hey,” Eddie said with a smile. 

“Hi, Tommy,” Christopher said. 

“Hey, kid, nice to see you back in LA.” 

Chris gave him a rundown of his time in Texas. He talked about the friends he made and his cousins and grandparents, but how Eddie had gone to see him and then Chris decided to come back with him. 

It was nice to talk to Chris and then to follow Eddie and Chris into one of the stores. Chris got distracted then, and Eddie turned to Tommy. 

“How are you really?” 

“It’s been months,” Tommy said. 

“I know. You never called me back. You should have,” Eddie said. 

“I couldn’t,” Tommy said. “You’re…how is he, Eddie?” 

Eddie took in a breath. “Look, I don’t think I should answer that. Buck is coping. He’s doing…what did he call it, he’s exploring. Apparently, it’s what you told him he needed to do.” Eddie’s look was pointed. Full of judgment. 

Tommy had to look away, he had to hope that his eyes wouldn’t fill up with tears. That night, right after he left Evan’s place, Tommy didn’t even remember how he got home. He did remember that he’d gone for his usual comforts. A shot of whiskey, a case of beer, and he’d tried to watch a movie and failed miserably. Hadn’t been able to watch romantic comedies since. Documentaries were out too. 

“Dad,” Christopher called. 

“I — I’ll leave you to it,” Tommy said. 

Eddie grabbed his shoulder. “Wait. No. Just…let’s hang out. You can come over or I can come over. We could sparr or get a drink. We’re still friends, Tommy. I’m serious.” 

“Okay.” 

Eddie called him that night and Tommy couldn’t say no to having Eddie come over to his place. They didn’t talk about Evan the whole time, not until Eddie was getting ready to leave. 

“I want to say something because I’m your friend and Buck’s friend. What you did was really stupid and I never thought you were stupid. If this was the way you always saw it going, why did you waste his time? Why did you let him fall for you? And I know you hurt yourself too, Tommy, I can see it all over you. So why? Just…answer that.” 

Eddie didn’t even let him reply before he left. 

Why did Tommy do that? Because even a minute of knowing Evan was worth it. Ending it early was just…he’d expected it to help because he had control and he was making the call and then he wouldn’t be devastated. It was a little late for it, apparently, at least on his end. 

“He’s exploring,” he said out loud. Eddie’s words. 

What had Tommy expected. God, he really was an idiot. 

A week later he was at a call that the 118 was present for as well. He tried to stay well clear of them, but he couldn’t help but look for Evan. It was like being a moth drawn to light and of course Evan was his light. 

He’d overheard Lucy and Melton talking on his first shift after his talk with Eddie and Melton had said everyone had a regret in love, that everyone had someone they let go of or who let them go that always left what ifs. Evan wasn’t a regret, Tommy would never regret him. What he regretted was that Tommy had allowed fear and his own baggage to cloud things and destroy what he and Evan had. 

Of course, a part of him did still wonder if he had been right. Every relationship came with risk, and Evan having just realized he was into men as much as women, it wasn’t farfetched to think that one day he might think that he’d settled into something with Tommy far too quickly without really knowing for sure it was what he wanted. Evan hadn’t denied that either, he hadn’t tried to stop Tommy leaving. He hadn’t reached out. He hadn’t even asked for any of his things back — granted neither had Tommy. 

Tommy had everything that Evan had ever left as his house in the drawer that had been Evan’s. Or hanging on his coat rack. In his bathroom. In his kitchen. He hadn’t had the heart to remove any of it and sometimes when he was really tired or when he’d hit the booze a little hard with Lucy, he could even convince himself that it was there waiting for Evan. 

The call rang long, the fire blazing for a while and worse people stuck inside on the higher floors. Tommy was helping on the ground on a hose, he knew the 118 was helping with evacuation along with the 133 and somehow they did manage to get everyone out and they did manage to get the flames put out. Tommy wouldn’t admit it, but he spent most of the call with his heart in his throat hoping that Evan stayed safe and that nothing went wrong. 

They were just getting back to the truck when he saw Evan a little soot covered, but smiling. He was talking to a reporter. Red hair, pale skin, skinny and pretty. He kept talking to her even after the camera man brought the camera down. 

“That’s Taylor Kelly,” Lucy said and she pushed him to keep moving. 

Taylor Kelly the reporter. Taylor Kelly who was Evan’s ex. Taylor who Evan had cheated on with Lucy. When he turned back to look once more they were no longer talking. 

“I don’t get why you haven’t reached out to him,” Lucy said. 

“He’s a coward,” Melton said. 

“It’s been how many months now and you’re not over him. Do you want me to find out if he’s seeing anyone? Maybe you still have a shot. We’ve never seen you like this before and at first it was I guess normal. Now it’s a bit depressing. What happened, Tommy?” 

“What happened is Melton is right and I am a coward,” Tommy said and then he climbed into the truck and looked away from them, glad when they didn’t talk to him the whole way back to Harbor. 

He heard about Maddie giving birth from Hen. It was a passing comment one night when he went over for dinner and Tommy found himself mourning that he hadn’t been there for Evan through all of it, especially because as Karen told it, Maddie had had a hard labor. 

He was shown pictures from Hen’s phone. The baby was tiny and already had a tuft of dark hair. He scrolled through pictures and then there he was. Evan holding the baby in his arms, the baby looking even smaller tucked right into the crook of Evan’s elbow and Evan smiling down with so much awe and love. It hurt to look at him, but Tommy couldn’t stop. 

So maybe there had been times when Tommy allowed himself to think about a future where he and Evan stayed together, one where they were married and decided they should be parents too. He’d seen Evan around kids too often, knew Evan would want to be a dad. Tommy had never longed for that or anything, but with Evan he would have wanted it. That was all gone now. 

“Oh,” Karen said. “Sorry. I forgot…”

Tommy forced himself to flip to the next picture. Another shot of Evan, this time he was looking up with the bluest glassiest eyes. He missed him. He missed him so damn much and it wasn’t fair how much. 

“Tommy,” Karen said. “Hey, are you alright?” 

“I miss him,” Tommy said. 

“I’m pretty sure he misses you too,” Hen said. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Do you have anything stronger?” 

Hen didn’t mince words. She told him point blank about how after the break up, Evan had tried to act like he was alright. Then, he’d just started to do anything he could in order to keep busy. 

“He started baking,” Hen said. “Then he started doing yoga. He started rock climbing. I think he even took an art class. Anyway, it was hard to watch but I guess it was better than if he sat at home wallowing.” 

“Like I did,” Tommy said. 

Karen grasped his wrist. “You were both hurting. What happened, Tommy?” 

“He asked me to move in and I said no.” 

“And you broke up over that?” Hen asked, surprised. 

Tommy shook his head. “No. Yes. In what world was this going to last? He only just discovered he likes men and yeah it was going well but it wasn’t forever. If we moved in together, it was going to be so much harder when we broke up.” 

“That’s…that’s bullshit, Tommy,” Hen said. “So, you broke his heart and yours so it wouldn’t happen later on.” 

“I didn’t break his—”

“You did,” Karen said. 

“Well shouldn’t he get a chance to explore what his sexuality means? Shouldn’t he get to figure that out instead of settling for the first guy he dates?” 

“And what if he wasn’t settling?” 

That kept him up all of that night. He still remembered how the conversation had gone. Evan had brought up the Abby thing and Tommy had felt put on the spot because it was the last thing he expected and then Evan had started to explain about Abby being an important relationship to him and how Tommy was just as important, the most important since, and all at once Tommy’s fears and insecurities had rushed forward because Evan and Abby hadn’t made it and now that Tommy was this gay mentor or whatever of course it wouldn’t last either. He tried to explain that to Hen and Karen and they both looked at him like he was the one that didn’t get it. 

“You need to talk to him,” Hen said. “For both your sakes.” 

“I don’t know if I can,” Tommy admitted. 

Exactly a year after it happened, he saw Evan again. 

Tommy had gone out to a gay bar because he couldn’t stay home and wallow. Lucy had also told him that he needed to put himself out there again. That if he wasn’t going to talk to Evan, then he needed to talk to someone that might give him a reason to move on. He really didn’t want to, but at the same time his right hand was getting tired and maybe some release of a carnal nature was what Tommy needed. No one had said it, but they had all kind of implied that Evan had at least gotten out there. 

He and Evan had gone to that bar once, gotten a drink and then danced a little before calling it a night and heading back to Evan’s, both of them eager to get up to Evan’s bedroom. He remembered seeing more than a few eyes looking at Evan with interest and how it had made something inside him churn because Tommy had known that if Evan was on the market again he wouldn’t have a hard time finding someone that was interested in him. 

Finding himself a free spot at the bar, Tommy ordered a beer and he tried not to think about the first few times that Tommy had gone into a gay bar and how nervous he’d been to actually put himself out there like that. 

“Hi, handsome,” a male voice said before Tommy had even gotten his beer. 

Tommy turned. “Hello.” 

The guy had floppy hair. He was lanky and thin, could probably be called a twink. He was also way too young for Tommy, probably not even in his mid-twenties. 

“So,” the twink said, hand reaching to touch Tommy’s chest right where the V of his shirt ended. “Want to have some fun?” He wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips and his hand climbed to Tommy’s neck. 

“Sorry,” Tommy said. “That’s not why I’m here.” 

“Boo,” the guy said, hand dropping away, “So why are you here?” 

“A drink,” Tommy said decisively because he knew that even if someone age appropriate were to approach him, he wouldn’t have been interested. They weren’t Evan. 

“Oh, well. It was worth trying. Though, I don’t usually get turned down twice in one night.” 

“What’s your name?” Tommy asked. 

“Owen.” 

“Well, Owen, it looks to me like there are plenty of fishes in the sea. Third time might be the charm. To be honest, you’re way too young for me and I’m still…I’m hung up on my ex.” 

Owen took a look around, but he turned back to Tommy. “Bad break up? Did he break your heart?” 

“More like I broke his and mine. Such an idiot.” 

“But, hey, you’re still hot. I could help you forget for a few hours.” 

Tommy laughed. 

Owen grinned. “Not ready for that. Must have been quite the guy.” 

“Yeah.” 

Owen wandered off and Tommy watched him strike up a conversation with another guy, someone a little closer to his age. They seemed to hit it off and next time he saw them they were out getting lost in the crowd of bodies on the dance floor. 

Tommy finished his beer and was about to order another when he heard a familiar voice. Down the bar he found Evan. He was turned away from Tommy looking to one of the tables where a man was waving. Tommy couldn’t watch this. He couldn’t see Evan flirt with someone else. He couldn’t see Evan go home with that guy. He couldn’t look away. 

Evan said something to the girl behind the bar and…wait, did he not accept the drink? Then, he saw Evan put some money down right before finishing his beer and moving to leave. 

Tommy did the same and he followed. 

Evan made it out the door just ahead of him and Tommy had to get around several people, but eventually he made it to the door and then out. Evan was just outside, arms crossed over his chest, waiting. 

“Tommy,” he said. 

His voice, the sound of his name, Tommy felt it all down to his bones. 

“Hi, Evan,” he said and he knew his voice broke on Evan’s name. 

“It’s been a year,” Evan said. 

The door opened behind Tommy and Tommy had to step out of the way, his eyes never leaving Evan because maybe Evan would disappear. 

“I know,” Tommy said. 

“It’s felt like longer,” Evan said. 

“I know.” 

“I miss you,” Evan said. 

“I miss you too.” 

Evan was quiet for a beat and then, “then, why?” 

It was high time he stopped being a coward, high time that he stopped getting in his own way or letting the past intrude on his present. 

“Because I’m the biggest idiot,” Tommy said.

Evan snorted. “You’re not wrong.” 

The door opened again bringing with it a wave of music. It was Owen, arms linked with the guy he’d been dancing with. He looked between them and laughed, shaking his head as he walked past them. 

“Maybe we should take this conversation elsewhere,” Tommy suggested. 

Tommy’s house was closer. It felt better than going to Evan’s loft, not that it stopped Tommy from remembering how it had all gone. How he’d let the door close behind him and he’d just thought that it was the right call. 

Evan followed him inside. 

“You know, it was so dumb of me to ask you to move in when you’re the one that owns his own place,” Evan said. “I was just…overcorrecting. Rushing. Trying to show you how much I wanted us to have a future.”

“And I got scared,” Tommy said and led Evan to the living room. “I was dumb too. I should never have broken up with you but, Evan, the way you were talking about Abby and me, it was like of course I was just here to be your next transformative relationship. The next thing that prepared you for…for whoever came next.”

Transformative. That word had stuck around for him, he realized. The comparison Evan had made about his relationship with Abby to their relationship. He and Evan sat down.

“Tommy, I’m—”

Tommy stood. “I’ll go get us some water.” 

He didn’t wait for Evan to respond. As soon as he was out of the room he took a few breaths. What were they doing here? What were either of them hoping to accomplish? Did Evan want to get back together? Was that…was that the right move? 

Twelve months. It had been double the amount of time that their relationship had lasted and Tommy ached for Evan. He longed for him. He still hadn’t gotten rid of any of the things that reminded him of Evan or the things that belonged to Evan either. Hell, he hadn’t even let anyone take over or make their own mark. 

“Tommy?” Evan called you. “Do you want me to come to the kitchen?” 

“I’ll be right back.” 

He grabbed and filled glasses. 

Evan had started pacing the floor. He looked distraught. Tommy wanted to grab his hands and hug him, instead he set down the water. 

“We never talked about our exes,” Tommy said. 

Evan’s gaze snapped towards him. “No, I guess we didn’t.”

“Come, sit,” Tommy said and motioned to the couch. “Evan, I think I let my past decide my future and clearly I was wrong and this last year has been miserable. I’ve missed you every day and I thought walking away was the right thing for you, but it was definitely the wrong thing for me and I just—”

He didn’t expect Evan to kiss him, but that’s what Evan did. It didn’t last long and Tommy wanted to pull him right into another kiss because it had been a year since the last time he kissed him — the last time he’d kissed anybody. 

“Evan,” he said. 

“I learned a year and a half ago that was one way of getting someone’s attention,” Evan said. “I’ve been miserable too. I hated this last year and I missed you and as much as I wanted to hate you I just love you too much.” 

Then, they were kissing again and Tommy was pressed back against his couch, Evan practically crawling into his lap. His arms were around Evan again and he really hadn’t thought that he would ever have this again, but Evan was there and he smelled amazing and he felt amazing and their lips slotted together perfectly. 

Tommy didn’t even realize he was crying until Evan pulled back and his hands were brushing away his tears and then kissing his cheeks. His nose. 

“I love you,” Evan said. “I’m in love with you.” 

His heart was soaring and he reached to cup Evan’s cheeks. “Good, because I love you too.” 

Evan smiled wide at him, pecked his lips and then just hugged him. Held him. Tommy held him back. 

“We’ll have to talk about it,” Tommy said. “I want to explain. I want—”

“Later,” Evan said. “Right now, I just want…I want to bask in this. In us.” 

[kaliforniahigh]

Oooh you got any Jolly Thots?

Oh, yeah. I got them!! If anyone wants to send in their Jolly thots, my ask is open!

Warning: this is very angsty and there is no happy ending :( Also smut (p in v). Jolly is kind of a jackass in this, sorry.

WC: 1.4k

Jolly had you on your kness, back pressed against his chest as he pounded into you from behind. You could feel his breath on your neck, and the feeling of his hand pulling on your ponytail.

It was always like this. He'd call you, tell you he's feeling lonely and longing for you. You'd tell him to come over, only to have your heart broken over and over again.

When he had you like this, though, it was like the feeling of rejection didn't exist for a while.

"You love this, don't you? Me inside of you", he murmured in your ear, you only moaned in response. There was a time when you entertained his praises, but not anymore. Instead, you wished he'd just fuck and stay quiet.

He lets your hair go and you fall on your hands on the bed. His pace picks up and you can tell he's close by the way he's gripping your hips. He starts rubbing circles on your clit, and you're right there with him.

You hate the it feels so good, you hate the way he always seems to know what to do get make you fall apart for him. The way he hits all the right spots.

You wish he was as good with feelings as he is fucking you.

Seconds later, he's spilling inside the condom, with a grunt. And your shaking underneath him, knees giving out as lay sprawled on your bed.

You both take a few seconds to recover, and the part you dread the most is about to happen. Again.

You can hear him going into the bathroom, to discard the condom and wash his hands, you guess. You stay on the bed, now laying on your back and pulling the covers up to your chest.

There was also a time when you felt comfortable with him seeing you naked on the back after you finished. Now, you just felt kind of cheap. With how detached you've both become, the only thing missing was him slapping a couple of tens on your bedside table before leaving.

"Folio is having a party on Saturday. He says he wants to celebrate his new collaboration with TAMA", he tells you as he pulls his boxers on.

"Yeah, he told me", you responded with a detached tone to your voice. Watching him redress.

"You going?", he asked you.

"I'll see"

He only hummed in response. Grabbing his wallet and looking back at you.

"I'll see you on Saturday then. If you go", he opened the door of your bedroom.

"Yeah"

On Saturday, you found yourself knocking on the door to the boys' house. You pondered a lot over the week if you even wanted to go. But decided that your little situationship with Jolly shouldn't drift you apart from your other friends.

Besides, you were determined to ignore him tonight.

You guessed he wasn't there yet when you arrived, because you surveyed the place, but didn't find him. Good, you hope he wouldn't come, you wished to yourself, but knew that wouldn't be true, because he wouldn't miss celebrating his friend.

You were actually enjoying yourself and talking to people around you. You had a drink in your hand, but wanted to stay mostly sober for the night. Before, there was no problem with you getting drunk and spending the night at Jolly's room. Now, it just felt like you were overstaying your welcome.

Maybe an hour after you arrived, you could see two people entering the living room, when you looked in their direction, it was as if the whole world stopped spinning and the room became completely still.

There he was, dressed in all black, with a beautiful girl hanging on his arm.

You obviously knew he was fucking around with other girls, but he never actually brought them over to their house. Also, the fact that a few days ago, he was in your bed, fucking you, and now he was here, with a new girl, made your stomach twist.

Before he had the chance to come any closer to where you were standing, you turned around and made your way upstairs to the bathroom.

You closed the door behind you as you tried to calm your heartbeat that was pounding in your chest. You desperatly tried to think of an excuse to leave this party right now. You shouldn't have come in the first place.

After a couple of minutes, you decided to leave and then shoot Folio a text apologizing. You already had the chance to congratulate him, so that wouldn't look too bad.

Slipping out from the bathroom, you made your way through the living room with your head down, not wanting anyone to see you. Opening the front door, your stepped into the slight breeze blowing outside.

Taking a deep breath, you started to walk down the street to where your car was parked.

"Y/N", you heard a familiar voice behind you, but you didn't turn around, you didn't acknowledge him.

"Hey, where are you going?", he tried again, picking up his pace this time and walking beside you.

"I'm going home", you said, voice flat and devoid of any emotion. You tried to keep yourself in check, because you were sure if you stayed here any longer, you'd start crying like an idiot.

"Why? The party has just started".

Could he really not understand why you were leaving? Was he this dense? Instead of feeling sad, you were now feeling angry at his obliviousness.

"Are you fucking serious? Are you actually this stupid or do you just like to pretend that you are, so you don't have to own up to your mistakes?", the anger in your voice and fire in your eyes made him take a step back.

"Are you talking about?", he was wary now, but his eyes told you he knew exactly what you were talking about.

"Do you actually consider me your friend or do you just keep me around because I'm an easy fuck?", you were becoming tired of him dodging your questions.

"You're not an easy fuck. Please don't say it like that", he tried to take a step closer to you, but you took a step back, and he stayed in his place.

"Oh no? But you text me everytime already knowing I'll tell you to come over. You take advantage of the fact that you know I'm emotionally attached to you", you crossed your arms over your chest to try and protect your heart that was already broken in a million pieces.

"It was never supposed to be like this", he told you, and you desperately wanted him to stop making excuses.

"But it is. Next thing I know, you're going to be paying me for my services from how much a cheap transaction this has become"

Jolly just stood there, his eyes were wide and you could tell they were a little glossy from the way the light from the streetlamp hit his face.

"I'm so fucking sorry, You gotta believe me when I say I never meant to make you feel this way", his voice trembled a bit towards the end of his sentence. You could see a little glimpse of the old Jolly you met years ago.

"I'm not sure I believe anything that comes out of your mouth anymore", you stood your ground this time.

"I'm so fucking sorry", he looked down as he apologized to you. He couldn't even do it looking at your fucking face.

"Me too", you said as you fished your car keys from your pocket. "I'm going to delete your number, and I never want to speak to you ever again", now it was time for your voice to tremble. You were not only endind whatever you two had, but you were ending a friendship of years that developed into something neither of you could control or deal with. "Tell the boys I'll stop coming around"

With this last sentence, you turned around and walked the rest of the way to your car, now letting the tears fall freely from your eyes.

You unlocked your car and gor in the driver's seat. You told youself you wound't look back, but you couldn't helo but take a peek on the rear view mirror.

You Jolly sitting on the curb, you could tell his shoulders were shaking, and that his hands were covering his face.

Too bad, he should've shown some emotion all those times you desperately needed him to. With a shaky, deep sigh, you turned on your car and drove away from the most important people in your life.

[itsrlymine]

Manifesting and Why Feelings Don’t Matter. They Never Did.

Some of you care way too much about your feelings for me and honestly…. It’s annoying. Feelings got y’all in a chokehold yet they have nothing to do with you getting your desires. Your feelings didn’t stop your sp from coming back and treating how you wanted them to. Your feelings didn’t change the fact that you got the house/apartment you have always wanted. Your feelings didn’t change the fact that you still reconciled with an old friend from years ago who barely even remembers the disagreement. Whether positive or not, it’s all about the meaning you give them. 

“I want to manifest sp back but I don’t feel like—.“

“I want to make money without working but I feel guilty and—.“

“I know I can manifest whatever I want but what if I feel uncomfort—.“

SHUT UP AND JUST KNOW YOU HAVE WHAT YOU WANT. KNOW IT NOW

No matter how you "feel", you are still the creator of your experience. 

If you are feeling nervous about getting a certain desire, who cares? It’s yours anyways.

If you are feeling scared about something not happening, who cares? You got it and it happened anyways.

If you are feeling like you don’t know how to manifest and create your reality, who cares? You are still creating even if it’s something you don’t want. Just change your perspective. 

Your feelings aren’t your enemies but they are also not your God. At all. You are and you can dictate whether or not the “feelings” you have matter. They don’t but you can also use them to your advantage. I’ve been angry about tons of things before and instead of focusing that anger on the situation at hand, I focused it towards what I wanted to happen instead. 

“F*ck this! I’m literally getting what I want. I have that sh*it right now what am I even talking about “getting” for???? That sh*t is in my freakin face!!” 

If you want to feel anything, feel peace. When I say feel, I don’t mean create or conjure up an emotion within yourself. By feeling, just still your thoughts and mind. There you will find peace— your true essence. Be comfortable there whether it’s for two seconds or two hours. From that peace is where all creation springs. Remind yourself of who you are and know it will never change. You are still in control. 

What you say goes, not what you feel. You can experience all the human emotions —energies in motion— you want or don’t want but at the end of the day none of that matters. Why? Because you create. You choose. Not your feelings. Not your emotions. Even physical sensations don’t hold any power until you give them power. I’ve healed myself a number of times from different pains whether it was cramps, headaches, stomachaches or toothaches and even healing my second ACL faster than the first by thinking as the person who doesn’t feel pain anymore/is healed. It is truly easier said than done because it’s done and easy asf to say. Be so serious. Divorce your feelings, take your ring back and decide who you are in spite of them! 

And don’t let me get started on y’all that let the 3d make you feel a certain way. You are allowing that the 3d to dictate how you feel and keeping yourself in a perpetual cycle you don’t want to be in. Stop it. Get help. Help yourself. 

[half-dead-ham]

Tim Drake's I.E.F chap 4

[Previous chap][Ao3 chap][Masterlist][next chap]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason here, with some bonding on multiple levels!

It took Danny's core a total of four days for it to be satisfied with Tim's safety in the cave while recovering. Four days plus the three since before Tim got shot since Danny's checked in with his friends back in Amity.

He's honestly surprised the Boomerang hasn't beaned him yet.

Only after making sure he had a few methods of keeping Tim safe remotely and telling his new friend—as much as he was able to without talking—that he'd be gone for a bit did he fly back over to his old squat house and retrieve the rest of his things, including his phone. The new guys there didn't seem like the friendly sort, but when you can go invisible that's not really a problem.

His go bag was still in the same place he'd left it four days ago—inside the first floor bathroom's wall—along with the change of clothes and cash Sam had shoved in it on his way out of Amity. He took it easily and shot up through the top of the building, missing the guy sleeping in the bath tub's panicked start.

Hesitantly he turned his phone back on. The moment it was done the startup sequence it began vibrating nonstop, and Danny had to wonder how much of that was his friends worrying versus actual updates about his hometown. Scrolling through and, yep, that's a lot of 'answer or I'll kick your ass' texts from Sam, probably one every other hour since the second day, judging by the time stamps. The texts he was getting from Tuck were much the same, albeit much less violent and graphic about what bodily part's would be stuck where if he didn't answer soon.

Picking a direction and shooting off Danny soon found himself sailing high above the Atlantic ocean. He made sure Gotham bay was only a spec in the distance (to fool any attempts at trying to track his phone call, just to be safe) then hit the group dial on their chat.

Two connection tones sounded on top of each-other, and the first words Danny heard from his friends in a week were "give me one good reason why we aren't already in Gotham looking for your half-dead ass after you literally ghosted us for a week."

"Hi to you too, Sam," he chuckled in response. It was nice actually getting to talk to someone, with actual words.

"Ohhh no. You don't get to pull the 'Hi to you too, Sam' bit after missing two check-ins in a row with no explanation."

"Danny…" Tucker's voice came in with a lot less fire in it, but with twice the worry of Sam's. "Why is your phone pinging two hundred miles off the coast of New Jersey? Did you get into something again?"

Ah, yes. His friends knew him so well.

"To answer both of your questions, my phone is pinging two hundred miles from New Jersey because I am two hundred miles from New Jersey, give or take with the altitude. I didn't mean to ghost you, really, something came up and I forgot the phone at my old place."

"Old place? Danny, what came up that you had to move safehouses? What do you mean something came up?" Oh yeah, Sam wasn't happy with him. If he weren't safely riding in international waters he was sure Sam would find him and make sure no one found his corpse. If he could leave a corpse that is.

"Yeahhh… about that?" He let out a nervous chuckle, free hand travelling to the back of his neck. "I kinda made a friend?"

"What?!" Sam's shriek had Danny's ears swivelling down and his toes curling at the intensity.

"Danny, I say this with all the love in my cold, dead heart, but what the actual fuck would make you think making a friend while on the run was a good idea?!"

"Danny dude," Tucker spoke up, "I thought you've had some bad ideas before, but this. Man, at least tell me you didn't give out your real name?"

"Heh heh eh… funny story? They kinda gave me a name."

The statement was met with only the sound of the rolling waves underneath him. As the quiet grew he started to get fidgety, maybe not starting from the beginning wasn't the best idea…

Finally, after what seemed like hours, a woosh of air passed Sam's mic as a single word came over the call. "Explain" left no room for jokes, rambling it is then.

"So I may or may not have been hanging around this guy at night while doing some flying to clear my head. The guy seemed nice enough and pretty popular so I kinda thought 'whats the harm?' and started haunting the guy when he went out 'cause I was bored and we kinda grew into this on official friendship between us? Cause apparently he knew I was there even though I was invisible like all of the time, so cause I knew he knew I was there I started helping him with the things he was doing? Like little not obvious things but apparently he noticed him anyway cause his family is like a bunch of detectives and so he notices things. Anyway like four days ago he was shot and I've kinda been with him since cause my core thinks he's someone I need to protect even though I didn't actually know the guys name till after he got shot and-"

"Danny, dude, this is like, waaaay too much info all at once. You got a spark notes version of this story?" Tucker cut in. Having a friend that both had a tendency to ramble and no need to breathe could give him a headache sometimes.

Before Danny could start back up, Sam cut him off "... Danny, what's the name of the guy you were stalking?" It was phrases like a question, but with who it was coming from, it was more of a demand.

Panicking he tries to evade the question, "stalking? I wasn't stalking him, I was… hanging out? Without him knowing it was a hangout?"

"Danny…"

"I mean really, stalking is such a strong word. I'd prefer the term non-consensual bodyguarding."

"Danny."

"It's not like I was even doing anything usually, just hanging around the same places he was. At night… alone."

"Danny, the name!" Sam snapped. He really shouldn't tell his friends, because if they know his new friend is Tim Drake-Wayne then they'll want to know why he was hanging around him at night, and why he got shot. Those were not questions he wanted to answer at the moment. He knew what they'd say if he did.

"I can't tell you," he blurted out.

"...What?" Oh, oh yeah, that was a bad play, Fenton.

"I can't tell you his name, you'll get mad at me," he knew she sounded like a child, but his friends were always the more responsible parent types anyway.

"Danny dude, what in Clockworks name do you think will make her any more angry than she already is?" While Tucker brought up a good point, he already knew the answer to that question.

"...Timothy Drake-Wayne?" Was all he could say to reply.

Once again all that joined him was the sound of the rolling waves. Were they shocked? Angry? (Of course they were angry, angrier?) It was really hard to gauge his friends' responses with just their voices.

Finally Sam whispered "what do you mean, Timothy Drake-Wayne?" That voice. He knew that voice, if he were any closer to her when she spoke in that voice he'd be halfway through the zone already trying to hide.

The heat of a thousand suns couldn't compare to the fury in that one question.

"I mean, I started haunting Tim Drake-Wayne accidentally? And then sorta got attached?"

Sam was trying to re-kill him through the phone somehow, he knew it. Tucker graciously offered an out with "Why was the co-CEO of Wayne Enterprise going out enough in Gotham to require a ghostly bodyguard Danny? The dude is, like, super kidnappable right?"

Ancients damn Tucker and his logical questioning making Danny want to drop his phone in the ocean and fly back as fast as possible. Unfortunately, now that they knew who he was haunting, they could just show up at Wayne manor to find him. That would definitely out him to Tim's family, he hadn't even done any pranking with the guy yet.

Audibly sighing into the mic, Danny's hand travels back to his neck as he speaks. "You guys gotta understand that what I'm going to tell you next is a secret, okay? Like, my level of secret secret. Tucker, this line is encrypted right?"

At Tucker's confused sound of approval he continues.

"So originally I didn't actually know I was following Tim Drake. I was following Red Robin. I only know who he is now because I followed him to the Batcave after he got shot."

He really should have something to do for when he accidentally stuns his friends into silence. Fidgeting can get boring pretty fast after a bit.

After another eternity a groan came from Sam's end. Danny hoped that was a good sign.

"So you were stalking a vigilante and accidentally put him in your 'I'd take a bullet for you' list? Danny, that's all kinds of stupid. He's a vigilante, it's his job to fight and protect, not be protected! And what were you saying about your core bonding to him?" Well at least she sounded more 'tired of this shit' and less 'grind him to dust' now, Danny for the win?

"You know how I get all ghostly protective about you guys getting in danger? It's kinda like that with him now. It feels so weird having my instincts labelling someone outside of Amity as one of my humans. Kinda the whole 'I've only known him for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him I'd kill everyone here and then myself' meme. It's creepy, and not the good kind."

"I hate that you just described your ghostly instinct to protect people with a meme, dude." Tucker half groaned, half chuckled. At least he appreciated the humour in it.

"At least he's acknowledging he's getting into stalker protective territory, before he just thought he was being a helicopter friend." Sam added in. He hated when she brought up his early phases, when he still didn't know how being a ghost worked (he still doesn't, really.)

"So how are we going to play this, dude? Want me to hack into the Batcave, see what they got on you?" He could hear the gears in Tucker's head spinning, trying to find the best code bits to use on the bats firewalls. Danny chuckled at the image of Tuck going against  a family of trained hackers and coming out on top.

"Nah, Tuck. I-" Something cut him off, there was a buzzing in his core. The kind he knew was meant as a silent alarm. Tim was in trouble and he had to get back now.

"Guys, I gotta go. I'll check back with you later." He hung up, hearing his friends' voices of protest as he did so. Stowing his phone, he shot back to Gotham at mach speed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took Tim a while to get used to the fact that he was no longer ignoring the cold spot staying in his room. They were surprisingly easy to talk to, once they got past the fact that Arct could really only do yes or no questions with the statue as help. Trying to figure out that his friend had to go do something for a while took some time, especially with just the yes or no probing.

Before he left, Tim asked Arct to get him something to read, they came back with his laptop and the stack of files and books from his nightstand (how did it know which bedroom was his?) With one last Bob of the galaxy, his friend set it down and floated out, bringing with him the now comforting cold.

He'd finished up all the work emails saying he'd been in an accident and was just starting on the novel he's been meaning to read when he heard the revv of an engine coming to rest in the cave. As it was currently the day all of the usual bats were either at work or school, or resting up for tonight's patrol. Only a few members came in during the day, and he was about to try and figure it out when the question was answered for him.

Jason didn't even knock, instead kicking the door open with his boot and striding in like he lived here. Tim could only give a mildly annoyed glare as he watched his second eldest brother plop himself down in the chair next to him and kick his feet up on the side of the bed.

He sighed, realizing the book would have to wait again. Closing it and returning it to the stack on the side table, he looked to Jason, now with Red Hood helmet and domino mask off. He opened his mouth to speak but Jason beat him to it with. "Why d'you smell like death? I thought you survived the whole bullet to the chest thing."

Okay, that's not what Tim was expecting to come out of his brother's mouth. Not even a hello? Hell, how'd he even know he was in the medbay? He voiced that thought and he got a "group chat," in reply. Of course it was the family group chat.

Tim sighed and readjusted his position in bed. Talking with Jason was always tiring with how little respect he got from the former Robin. He knew Jason felt he replaced him when he died, but the fact he brought it up over and over again really didn't make him feel any better about it.

"Yo, Replacement, you gonna answer me? Why the hell do you smell like you took a shower in pit water? How'd you even find a pit not guarded by the League to begin with?"

"Do you really think I'd still be in a bed in medbay if I went anywhere near a Lazarus pit?" Tim really didn't know why his brother thought he had anything to do with the thing that brought him back before, he didn't really care either.

He watched as Jason scrunched up his nose and looked around the room.

"This place reeks of death more than the pit caves Ra's used. If you didn't come back, then why does it smell so bad?"

Jason was more connected to the pit than his other family members who'd been around them, Tim knew he wasn't lying about the smell. A trickle of cold creeped down his back as he started getting an idea as to what caused it. He didn't want to be right.

His older brother had redoubled his investigation, trying to pinpoint the source of the stench. Eyes finally landing on his bedside table, he swept the stack of papers onto the floor and grabbed the previously obscured ice statue. Tim's creeping feeling got stronger as his brother slowly turned to face him, green seeping into his normally blue eyes.

"Where the hell did you get this?" Jason asked with forced calm, gripping the statuette so hard Tim thought it might crumble.

"A friend gave it to me," he replied smoothly. It was the truth, his friend made him the statue of suspiciously never melting ice and he didn't question it.

The first twisting the collar of his hospital gown told him he maybe should have, as he was yanked forwards, pulling at the wires and tubes attached to him. Nearly off the bed now, Jason asked with Lazarus green in his eyes. "Who. Gave. You. This?"

Tim struggled to keep the groan of pain from escaping him. The drainage tube in his chest was being pulled in a very not fun way, and he would really like to not have Alfred redo his work in patching him up.

"I told you, I got it from a friend," he ground out.

Jason was about to say something else when an invisible force knocked him to the side and off his feet. The room dropped twenty degrees and the lights started flickering as Tim could feel hands on him. Cold and too long to be human, they kept him from falling forward off the bed and face planting on the floor. Gingerly laying him back down, his friend made sure nothing was taken out or reopened before raising in the air. Tim could feel the anger radiating off his friend in frigid waves, falling heavy like mist off dry ice and charged with electricity.

Jason could feel it too, as he looked exactly where Tim knew Arcturus was floating and pointed, hand cupping his cheek and still holding the statue.

"How the hell did you get a pit demon as a pet?!" He exclaimed.

Confused, Tim asked "what the hell is a pit demon?"

He watched as his brother looked from him to Arcturus and back, face cemented in shock and disbelief.

"You mean you don't know what the hell this is?!" Jason waves his arms in his friend's general direction. "Why are you not freaked out by this then?!"

The cold anger had died down some, replaced by static white noise and breaking ice. Shrugging as best he could, Tim replied, "he's not the weirdest thing I've seen, and he's pretty friendly too."

Jason was thrown. Could Tim not see the black cloud of twisted human floating in front of him? With eyes greener than Lazarus water on an expanse of black, hair dancing and jerking like it was underwater and getting electrocuted at the same time. The thing was only vaguely human shaped, a black cloud in the form of a body with no legs, and arms clad in white gloves ending in claws long and sharp enough to be daggers. He didn't want to look at it for long, its beady eyes stared right into his soul and face contorted into a snarl that held too many teeth for anything natural.

Tim still looked confused, why was he confused? Jason was about to get re-killed by something the pit water inside him curled up and cowered in fear of. He doubted he stood a snowball's chance in hell against this thing and his brother was sitting there like nothing was wrong. 

Okay, Danny clearly missed a memo before flying into his friend's rescue, so he's maybe a little confused on some things. Like firstly, Tim wasn't actually acting like he was in danger from this guy, despite him nearly pulling out all the equipment helping Tim to heal. His friend looked confused and mildly annoyed at most by New Guy's presence. Secondly, New Guy stank. Rotting ectoplasm stench seeped from him like he got dipped in a zone waste pool. Other than the green tinged in his eyes, though, he seemed otherwise okay, which was just another point of confusion. Lastly, his thoughts echoed what Tim had asked before. What the hell was a pit demon?

"I'm not a pet," he grumbled offhandedly. He knew neither human could understand him—ghost speak couldn't be made by human mouths or processed entirely by human brains. Regular people just heard crackling static and creaking glaciers with emotional intent when he spoke it. He turned to check on Tim more thoroughly when he heard an unexpected reply.

"Then why the hell is a pit demon staying around my little brother," Jason breathed. Replying to the things grumbling wasn't the smartest thing to do, but the fact that something he thought wasn't even sentient had said something he could understand had basically turned his brain off.

That couldn't have been directed at Danny, could it? Maybe not going human for a while had him hearing things. Checking Tim over again helped his form settle at least, but now his brain spun with the possibilities. Also, this dude was Tim's big brother? Pretty dick move of him to hurt Tim for their first meeting then. Not even Dick did that.

Tim was still looking between Jason and Arct. Did his brother just reply to the static hissing he'd heard before? Was that actually his friend trying to communicate? But then how could Arct understand English? And lastly.

"You didn't answer my question Jason—what's a pit demon, and why do you think there's one in this room?" If Jason knew what his friend was then maybe they could figure out a way to communicate better.

Okay, so apparently Tim didn't know what the affront to nature tucking him in was, that was fine. Jason had to swallow down the bile working its way up his throat. At least the thing's form had settled enough he could look at it now. It was almost- Jason couldn't say human looking. With purple tinged skin, pointed ears and fingers, and eyes that shone brighter and greener than any pit he'd come across, no way could this thing actually pass for human. Didn't stop it from trying though, it had formed actual legs while Jason had been staring, making the thing about as tall as he was. The clothes it was wearing, a baggy black hoodie and cargo pants almost made the thing resemble a teenager, one who prefers comfort and function over style. Its gaze swept over him and he'd realized he hadn't said anything for too long.

Keeping his eyes on the demon next to his brother, Jason stood up on shaking legs.

"A pit demon is just what it sounds like, a thing that couldn't possibly be human that crawled out of a Lazarus pit. Surprised demon brat hasn't already tried to chase it off, but I remember something about only those 'chosen by the pit' being able to see it or some shit. Don't remember much else other than that they're extremely violent and attack anything with a heartbeat."

Well, Tim was at a loss. His friend was supposedly from a race that came out of the Lazarus pits to attack people, yet so far his friend has only hurt those who hurt Tim first. He turned his gaze to where he felt his friend standing, remembering what he could of when they'd saved him. Sure, Arcturus wasn't human, but he wasn't that monstrous, right?

"That's bullshit," came out of Danny before he could stop himself. So that's what people thought of the ghosts that used the waste pools? He knew they could be used to travel between the zone and the human world, but they stank of rotting ectoplasm too much for him to ever want to try it. Sighing he used a bit of intangibility to swipe the statuette out of Tim's brothers—Jason's?—hand. Only revelling slightly from the full body jerk he caused in doing so.

Okay, so, Jason wasn't hearing things before. He clearly heard the thing speak. It was also aware of how terrifying it was if the smile at making Jason recoil was anything to go off.

"You do realize this thing is horrifying to look at, right?" He told his brother, not taking his eyes off the thing that could potentially eviscerate the whole house.

Tim's eyes grew wide. "You can see them?!" He exclaimed in surprise.

Danny's words echoed Tim's almost perfectly. "You can see me?" The static in his voice popping like a live wire as he sat the statuette down on the nightstand.

"Yeah I can see you, ya freak of nature. How'd you end up in Gotham? There aren't any pits for you to crawl out from near here." Was Jason possibly inciting the anger of the thing that could rip him to shreds? Yes, yes he was, but he had to know whether or not a new pit had formed close to Gotham in case the League came a-calling.

"Ancients, you can understand me?!" Danny had to keep his eyes from going beyond human wide. He was talking to someone that wasn't dead. In ghost speak! Was it a side effect of the waste water in his system, maybe? How it got there was a question he didn't need to know right now as he just looked at the guy that had answered him.

"Yeah?" Jason drawled wearily, that was not the reaction he expected. "You sound like you're talking over a Tesla coil, but you're speaking English, right?" He looked to his brother for aid but only saw the calculated look all bats used when they didn't want to openly appear confused.

Looking back, the thing had risen from its seat, literally. It was floating in a sitting position about two feet above the chair.

"I've never heard of a human that could understand ghost speak before!" The thing said excitedly.

"And I've never known a pit demon that could speak at all before," he replied without thinking.

The thing cocked its head. "Well most ghosts that use the waste pools just use them to get into the human world to cause chaos, not to talk. Any ghost with any ounce of self respect would either find a natural portal or make one." 

"Ghost? Portals? Are you saying pit demons are dead people? And that they come to earth through more than just the Lazarus pits?" That was a terrifying thought. More monsters coming to earth from ways other than the pits? Who knows what destruction they could—have already—cause. "There any way to stop them?"

"No? Natural portals are random, and ghosts that can make portals themselves prefer to stay in the zone where it's safe? Why should I even be telling you this, you don't look like you have the weapons to fight a ghost. Who are you anyway?"

Jason looked at his brother (who looked entirely lost at this point) back to the pit demon—ghost?—that was watching him with suspicion, feet back in the ground and firmly seated in the chair.

"Hey, Replacement," he chuckled but cut it to a cough at the things scowl. "You haven't told your buddy about me yet? I'm hurt, really."

Finally being included into the conversation, and it was to introduce the asshole of a brother to his possibly terrifying friend? Tim sighed and waved his good hand at the end of the bed.

"Arcturus, this is my older adoptive brother, Jason Todd, aka Red Hood. Jason, this-" he motioned to the chair "-is my new friend, I call him Arcturus because he can't say his real name."

Jason snorts and finally peels his eyes off the dead thing in front of him. "Really Timmy? You see what is essentially an eldritch terror and decide to name it after a star?" At his little brother's blush he couldn't help but laugh. "How cheesy can you get?" He said between breaths.

Meanwhile, Danny was having a crisis. He had punched Red Hood. In the face. He had punched his favourite Gotham vigilante in the face. Ancients end him right now. He wanted to scream.

"I just my favourite vigilante in the face for my friend," he groaned instead, putting his face in his hands.

Jason had to laugh harder at that. He couldn't help it, you couldn't make this shit up if you tried.

"Hey Timmy," he wheezed. "Your friend here just said I'm his favourite vigilante. Take that!"

Without looking up Danny took one hand off his face to point at Red Hood (ancients, Red Hood, his helmet was on the floor beside him how did he not notice?!)

"Second favourite," was all he could muster while reconsidering his half-life choices.

At the confused squawk of "hey!" He smirked and added, "Red Robin isn't an ass, so he got you beat there." 

By the way Jason was pouting and the room finally went back to its regular temperature, Tim could at least tell they weren't at each other's throats anymore.

"What did he say?" Tim asked.

"I've been demoted to second favourite. Dead guy can't handle sass." The reply had him chuckling, definitely not hostile anymore, that was good.

"Sounds like another dead guy I know," he commented. The look Jason gave him could have been angry, if the indignant undertone didn't make it so funny.

Huh, so the whole 'Jason Todd died but got better' thing wasn't just a rumour then. Interesting.

"So you're such a sore loser you came back just to spite death? Talk about petty," he joked at the vigilante as he lifted his face out of his hand. Another thing to have in common with one of his favourite heroes (anti-heroes?), they just couldn't stay dead.

Jason clicked his tongue at the ghost, "whatever you Kirby villain reject." The bark of laughter from his right and the stuttering in front of him had him feeling a lot better about his brother's safety. Yeah, he might not be able to beat the thing in front of him, but maybe he wouldn't have to. The fact that he could think clearly after not feeling the pit move since Tim's friend appeared helped.

"Alright, as fun as this meet and greet was, I need to head back to the Narrows." His brother's laughter died down as he slapped his knees and stood up. Still keeping a safe distance from Tim's dead friend he grabbed his discarded helmet and put his domino mask back on.

"Oh yeah," he heard Tim call out from behind him, "why'd you even come in the first place? I know you didn't do it just to annoy me."

Jason was glad he'd reasserted his domino mask as he half turned to view his brother. He looked him up and down one last time with a conflicted expression before turning back to walk out.

"A guy can be worried for his brother sometimes, give me some credit," he confided as he left for his bike.

The silence followed the rumble of Jason's bike out of the cave. That was not what Tim was expecting in this conversation at all. Jason came to check on him? He was worried about Tim? Shock couldn't begin to describe the mix of emotions he was feeling with that revelation.

A hum to his right brought him out of his musings as he turned his head to look at the space where his friend should be.

"So, that was my brother Jason." He huffed. "He's kind of an asshole, but he's family. The pit messed with his head a bit so he has some anger issues. Also I took over as Robin after he died, and since he's come back has pretty much thought of me as a replacement. I'm pretty sure he only uses the nickname as a joke now, though." That sounded better in his head. "He's seriously not that bad a guy though," he added on more as an afterthought.

He watched as the statuette lifted off its base as his friend showed he acknowledged the statement. A burst of cold then hit Tim square in the face. That was his friend's sign he was being self deprecating and, yeah, he kind of deserved that.

Comfortable silence enveloped the two as they both individually processed the encounter. The statue floating about half a foot off the seat of the chair in what Tim supposed was Arcturus' lap. He realized Jason had basically confirmed a few things about Arcturus through talking to him in the conversation Tim could only understand half of.

"Hey," the model twitched, "you can speak English, right? Not just that static noise that lets me tell what you're feeling?"

One dip of the statue means that yes, his friend could speak to him if he wanted to.

"Is there some reason you don't then? A reason you don't speak directly to me?" He watched as the statue stayed floating in its position for a moment, then almost reluctantly dipped a 'yes.'

"Why then?" The static that filled the room was charged with paranoia and distrust. It hurt, just a bit, but it didn't all feel directed at him.

"Do you not trust me then?" A rapid jerk to the side must count for a big 'no,' which made him feel a little better.

"…Maybe you don't trust my family?" Tim had found that if the statue didn't move, then he was halfway to the answer. Mulling the statement over a moment it dawned on him, it was stupid of him not to have realized sooner.

"You don't trust the bats, do you?" The statue dipping again meant 'yes' and tilted almost vertically. Was his friend showing he was ashamed in doing that? It didn't sting Tim quite as much as his friend not trusting him and he knew Bruce alone made a lot of reasons for any supernatural creature to stay out of Gotham. Tim turned his head to look at his lap as the gears spun in his head.

"Why did you stick around me then? I'm Red Robin, a part of Gotham's protectors, weren't I someone you should have avoided?" Maybe Tim didn't want to know the answer, but he had to ask for the safety of his family. If his friend got close to him just to get to his family, well, maybe Tim wasn't as smart as he thought he was.

The crunching sound of boots under snow mixed with a tuning radio had Tim feeling things he hadn't in a while. Curiosity and childish glee filled his chest with a warmth that was almost bringing tears to his eyes. Wiping away the damp he turned back to his friend with a smile.

"You can trust me, you know. Maybe you don't right now, and that's okay. But I promise I'll get you to trust me eventually." His voice was dripping with conviction that for once wasn't forced.

And if the hum he got back wasn't charged with emotion and only gave off a little reverb? Well, he could keep that to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y'know, when I originally rote this chapter I thought 'Kirby villain reject' was suck a great insult for something that looked like Danny. It just fits him, given his eldretch-ness in this fic.

Also, Kidnappable should absolutely be a real word. Calling it now.

Also also! This chapter has fanart! You can find it here!

[Ao3][Prev][Next]

[kath-artic]

today has instilled a new zest for life in me. oh god things could be so so much worse!

[iknityounot]

(Long post, sorry y'all)

A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.

In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.

She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.

Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.

After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:

DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.

Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!

So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.

Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.

At the end of August, the blanket was done!

I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)

She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it. 

She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.

And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.

Five stars, absolutely worth it!

(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)

[candycryptids]

Lost a bunch of shit in Valheim trying to recover shit in Valheim it’s great I love not knowing why the game crashes randomly and loses progress

[rizsu]

+ extra: canon-type family relations: jin itadori & sukuna are brothers, itadori is a child here ( 8 years ).

boyfriend-girlfriend life with sukuna except he thinks he's being replaced — in all seriousness. sukuna's seconds away from destroying his nephew's remote-controlled cars collection.

can the kid move? he wants yuuji gone. he's not jealous of him, he just wants your undivided attention back on him. if he knew beforehand that agreeing to jin's invitation over would result in this, he'd probably fly out of the country with you to avoid it.

manspreading on the sofa with one hand slung over the backrest, he swirls the beer in his other hand. his brother's in the kitchen, stacking the extra beers in the fridge.

“you can help me, you know?” jin calls sukuna out, lacing his voice with slight annoyance.

“nah,” sukuna responds, waving him off.

he's busy watching you sit on the floor with yuuji, pretending to race against time with him.

it's not all that bad when he thinks about it — never mind, it is. the kid's had you on the floor since you walked through the door. not a moment spared for his uncle. all yuuji did was look up at sukuna, stick his tongue out, and engulfed your legs in a big hug.

ever since then he's been sulking in the corner. jin can only pity him for so long — it's been an hour, he needs to get over it.

jin sneaks up behind sukuna, gathering his fingers to surprise attack him. in only a matter of seconds he's subjected to the ear-pinch-and-ring combination.

sukuna flinches, immediately swatting jin's hand off.

“you must've gone fucking crazy!?”

he gets yet another ear-pinch-and-ring combination from jin.

“i have a son, don't curse.”

“fuck that boy,” he whispers under his breath, cupping his ear. it's hot from the pain — most likely already gained a red shade.

even after such commotion both yuuji's and your attention didn't turn to them. you both are far too immersed in the racing game.

the brothers are now both on the sofa: one has his attention on you and the other has his attention on the unattended mail on the coffee table that's been neglected two days ago.

“this one? no... that one? also no...”

“jin, quit mumbling.”

“cover your ears then.”

rolling his eyes, sukuna downs the last bit of beer remaining in the bottle. he's now officially out of beer and too lazy to get one.

being left without a distraction, he's forced to observe jin's house. it's nothing extraordinary. he believes his house to be better.

he voices out a sigh, slouching and spreading his legs further apart. the boredom's hitting him earlier than it usually does — this is your fault. if you weren't busy zooming cars around the living room with yuuji then he wouldn't be bored.

as sukuna's busy with complaining, he doesn't notice yuuji speed walking to the sofa with a broken car in hand. you're right behind him, sporting a smile that says you got yourself in some trouble.

“daaad, the car!” yuuji whines, climbing onto the free spot between his dad and his uncle.

jin hums, raising his eyebrows but his gaze is fixed on the mail as he's still sorting them out.

“it broke,” the boy complains, pouting at the toy.

“it lost control and rammed into the wall,” you explained further, sitting on the armrest on sukuna's side.

sukuna's arm fixes itself around your hips. he's slightly smirking at the news.

that doesn't go unnoticed by you. you're more than familiar with your boyfriend's joy at other's misery. you shot him a glare with a light tap on his shoulder.

“is that so?” jin's attention is now fully on his boy. he takes the glasses off, pulling yuuji onto his lap.

taking the car into his hand, he inspects the damages. it's not too much, and it's fixable.

“dad will fix it later, okay,” reassuring yuuji, jin ruffles his hair.

yuuji nods, jumping down from his dad's lap to return to the toys. as he's on his way, he turns, appearing to have suddenly remembered something.

“(y/n), come play with me!”

“no, she won't,” sukuna answers for you, ignoring the harder hit you gave him on his shoulder.

“i'll be right there, yuuji,” this time you answer, giving him a warm smile and a thumbs up.

“give the boy a fucking brother,” sukuna grumbles, looking at jin with pure annoyance.

jin shoots his brother a smile, giving him no reply before he goes back to reading the final mail of the bunch.

[hwaflms]

HAPPY NOW? ★ [ j.jh ]

your family has been pressuring you for months to bring your boyfriend, jaehyun, over for dinner, and you think it’s really sweet that they like him so much. the only problem is that your “boyfriend” jaehyun, hates you.

———————————————————————

[☆] PAIRING. ex!jaehyun x f!reader

[☆] GENRE. angst, smut, fluff | fake dating?, exes to ??? au

[☆] WC. 19.9k (i don’t even know)

[☆] WARNINGS. angst, reader has anxiety, mentions of anxiety attacks, fighting, reader be lying a lot, reader has a little sister, crying, reader is kind of a dumbass, explicit content (piv smut), unprotected sex (don’t do this gang!), fingering, sex in public kinda, pls lmk if i forgot anything!!

[☆] NOTES. i’m so fucking annoyed with tumblr it’s not letting me insert images properly UGH this took me over 2 hours to upload man 🗣️ im pretty proud of this one ‼️ idek how it got this long but it’s my longest fic yet and it’s been sitting in my drafts for ages until i finally got the inspo to write it :p i want jaehyun so bad it’s not even funny tbh but anyway PLS GIVE ME FEEDBACK/A REBLOG LITERALLY ANYTHING IS APPRECIATED <33

———————————————————————

six months.

you haven't seen this door in six months.

it's funny because, this was a door you used to push open and walk through every other day, yet now you stand on the opposite side of it, unsure as to whether you should even be thinking of knocking.

your hand is raised to the door, shaped like a fist but you make no move to actually knock. you were aware that you still had time to bail out of this, that you could turn on your heel and make your merry way back to your sad little house and go back to pretending you're happy with the choice you made six months ago.

or you could just do what you came all the way here to do.

the weather seems to be in your favour, at least. the sun shines radiantly, making the temperature warm, but not too warm, and a cool breeze travels through the air in short intervals. the summer had begun early, birds chirping in their habitual singsong way and wild bougainvillea already flowering in various shades of pink and lilac. usually when the day starts off with good weather, the rest of it follows suit, and thus your day is made better. hopefully, this is the case for you today.

pausing for a short, morale-boosting intake of air, you tighten your fist and knock, knock, knock on the mahogany door, immediately regretting your decision as you feel your stomach churn and plummet. a good ten seconds pass, and you hear no reply nor movement from the inside of the house, and part of you is relieved because that means he may not be home.

more than happy to do a 180° and skip along joyously back to the metro that would take you home, your feet begin to make for that trip but your mind decides against it. you know that you are being overly dramatic, but even with being aware of this, your heart rate does not slow down one bit. you also know that what you've come here to do is more than just selfish, its pathetic and rather embarrassing. it's also a hugely unsavoury request, and if your roles were reversed, you'd most definitely laugh in his face and shut the door.

finally somewhat making up your mind with a quiet groan, you raise your clenched fist and rap against his front door again in a set of three. you nervously shift your weight from your right to your left foot, then back to your right and then once again to your left, the anxiety and anticipation not allowing you to stand still and relax, thinking that if he doesn't answer this time, you really will just return home.

"hold on, i'm coming!", a hurried, muffled voice calls from inside the house and you don't think your heart has ever beaten this fast in your life. not even during the one time you ran a marathon to prove a point to your friend chenle, and while you did show him that you didn't only run to get away from spiders, your body took its own sweet time to recover from that.

now you hear footsteps approaching the door from the opposite side of it, and you don't think you can handle anymore of this tortuous, build up of a wait because you are quite literally one step away from calling it a day and just sprinting your way out of there, just like you did on the last few metres of the aforementioned marathon, and you know he's nearing the door because the footsteps are getting clearer and clearer, and soon he's going to open the door, take one look at you and just slam the door right in your face, but not before spewing verbal explosives at you, which would be totally deserved since he has every right to just spit on you and tell you how you're a terrible, downright horrible human being completely unworthy of forgiveness and-

"sorry for making you wait so long, i was-"

if your heart rate was at its maximum speed before, now it just stopped.

standing in front of you, in the flesh, was the man who's heart you broke six months ago.

jaehyun had just about opened his door in a way that his body was sticking halfway out of it, but he was now frozen in that position, neither in nor out, just stuck there looking like he was contemplating his next move. he adorned a loose, white shirt that clung to his defined shoulders and chest, paired with a pair of red plaid pants with a patch of some different material stitched just above where his knee was. you'd recognise those pants just about anywhere, having worn them a number of times and being the cause of that strange patch with mismatched material (you'd tried to balance a pot of steaming hot ramen on your knee in order to move something, resulting in it causing a burn in the pant).

his attire tells you that he was either just about to eat breakfast, in the process of eating breakfast, or about to finish breakfast; jaehyun was not an early riser and he liked to take his time getting ready for the day.

apart from his slightly changed hair, jaehyun looks the same as he did before, if not better. his once shorter, straight, brown hair, was now a darker kind of black and longer in a silky, mullet-y, layered sort of way, the mullet part stopping just above where his shirt met his neck and the front bits falling on to his face in thin, soft wisps.

everything about the man was captivating and entrancing, but if you had to pick a specific feature that really takes the cake, it would have to be his eyes. his eyes, deep-set and fierce, always gave the impression that he was cold or unapproachable, whereas in reality, he was the opposite. as striking as they may be, they always carried a certain warmth to them.

while they still held the same intensity to them, the warmth was missing as he looked straight at you now. after the brief moment of confusion when he first opened the door dissipated, the familiarity had sunk in, and his expression now was more or less unreadable, but you still tried to make out what he was thinking and feeling- was it shock? anger? maybe even disgust?

"okay, are you going to just stand there or are you going to say something?"

you think it was largely a combination of the last two. in all your fidgeting and gawking, you'd forgotten to actually speak to the man who's door you'd just knocked on, leaving him standing there wordless and confused, an eyebrow raised as he waited for you to open your mouth.

you try to do so, so many words wanting to tumble out your mouth but an invisible gate seems to block it, so now you're just stood still with your mouth opening and closing soundlessly, looking like an idiot.

c'mon y/n, fucking say something, anything-

"how have you been?", is what you decide to go with to break the silence in the end, an awkward smile plastered on to your face. you realise before the sentence is even fully out of your mouth that that would be a really weird thing to start off with, seeing as you and jaehyun have had absolutely zero contact for six months, and are obviously not on the most wonderful terms.

jaehyun's eyebrows furrow, a look of clear disbelief on his face as he clutches his door handle a little tighter. he looks away with a sarcastic smile, shaking his head before turning back to look you dead in the eye. oh, he's going to slam the door on you, you just know it-

"really? 'how have you been'?", he questions incredulously, licking his bottom lip while an exasperated smile plays at them. funnily enough, his response is somewhat relieving to your pitiful self, because you weren't even expecting to hear a reply to what you said, you figured he'd just walk away. you would've. "we haven't seen each for six months since we broke up and 'how have you been' is the best you've got?"

you wince apologetically and bite your lip, playing with your fingers nervously as he quite literally stares you down, irritation written all over his face.

he waits a couple more beats for you to break the tense silence and speak but you are inwardly (and outwardly) struggling to word your thoughts, so he simply scoffs and backs away to return inside.

"okay wait, i didn't tell my family that we broke up and they keep pressuring me to bring you home for the holidays, so i would really like if you'd pretend you don't hate me and come with me."

you don't even want to open your eyes to witness his reaction to your blurted little confession, so you merely stand, frozen in place with your eyes squeezed shut tightly. a couple seconds pass yet you don't hear a door slam, a good sign, so you take that as an affirmative to open your eyes.

he doesn't say anything, or do anything either really, he just leans against his doorframe with another indecipherable expression. this irks you even though you know you have no right to feel irked, but the fact that you once had the ability to know what he was thinking and now don't bothers you to the core. plus, it leaves you feeling unsure as to whether to continue. he might just start laughing at you manically or angrily tell you to get off his property like some bitter, 60-year-old man, and either of these scenarios would be completely fair of him to do.

the heavy realisation that your request sounded absolutely delusional and conceited dawns upon you, and something about his irksome expression makes you feel like you should keep talking. "you have literally every right to just tell me to fuck off, and i don't even expect an answer, i don't really know why i even came here, oh my god- this is so fucking stupid, i'm so fucking stupid and honestly i don't know why you're still standing here listening to me ramble-"

"i need to get ready then. give me ten minutes."

✧ ──────── ✧ ──────── ✧

the front door you're stood at now holds a very different ambience to the previous one. while jaehyun's was quiet and peaceful, the front door to your parents house reveals that the inside is just bustling with activity. the chorus of kate bush's 'running up that hill' plays faintly from behind the door, so you figured that your dad must have brought out his old record player from the dusty attic.

jaehyun stands beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of his light grey hoodie that you feel he must be boiling in, because you're wearing a black tank top with some loose cargoes that you think you might have drenched with sweat.

the sweat would be from the burning heat, but also from the agitation you're really starting to feel. there are so many different ways this dinner could go. what if jaehyun suddenly tells them the truth? then everyone in the room would hate you, and rightly so. you don't want to have to explain to your parents why you broke up with him; it's a stupid fucking reason, if you can even call it that, and it made you completely miserable. how were you supposed explain to your little sister that you and jaehyun aren't together anymore? you suppose relationships are a totally foreign concept to her young mind, but you were sure that she knew you and jaehyun loved each other very much. and you knew she loved jaehyun very much.

he does not look at you, instead choosing to really focus on the christmas themed welcome mat that your parents put out during the winter of '09 and never bothered to change. how he even agreed to come here with you, you don't know, but to say you're grateful would be an understatement.

"you still have time to back out, you know.", you mumble softly, trying to give him one more chance to escape, but he doesn't even spare you a glance, shaking his head and squinting at the door.

"let's just get this over with."

with a small sigh, your raise your hand to press your parents doorbell, the embarrassingly loud 'ding dong' ringing out from behind the door. "oh, that must be her!", you hear the muffled voice of your father speak from the inside, making a slight smile form on your lips.

within a couple seconds, you hear the sound of the muted metal bolt as your dad struggles to open the door to let you in. a grunt of "this damn door..." makes both you and jaehyun release short giggles, and you peek over at jaehyun to see his lips curl upwards into a smile, a small one but it's still breathtakingly pretty . he clears his throat and it's gone in a flash, but the image doesn't leave your mind, and you're still seeing it when your dad finally manages to open the door. "i really need to start using the new lock", he mutters, shifting his eyes to you with a big grin, leaving against the doorframe with his arms folded. "hello, sweetheart."

you chuckle and throw your arms around him, squeezing him a little as he laughs and pats your back in return. releasing you, he turns to jaehyun with a smile, who promptly sticks his hand out politely. "hello, mr. l/n, long time no see."

your dad ignores his hand, throwing his head back with a gruff laugh. "what's with all the formalities, come here, son.", and with that he gives jaehyun a hug as well, a slightly shorter one albeit, but a hug nonetheless. the word 'son' repeats in your mind like an echo, sounding more and more distorted the longer you focus on it. you can't even begin to think of what was going through jaehyun's mind. this was not your brightest idea.

you notice your mom waiting by the door with her hands behind her back, eyes bright and shiny. "hi, mom.", you beam, and she laughs cheerily, opening her arms for you to run into, which you do. she presses numerous kisses to the crown of your head, making you groan lightheartedly and try to escape her hold, but it only tightens. "oh, how i've missed you."

"i missed you too, mom.", you say but she's already let you go and is making a bee line for jaehyun with her arms open, who falls into the hug so readily and comfortably. "i may have missed you, y/n, but i missed jaehyun ten times more.", she jokes, pinching jaehyun's cheeks affectionately.

jaehyun is turning bright red, but he has a toothy grin on his face, a real one, you can tell. his eyes travel the front room where all of you are stood with a nostalgic smile, having not seen it or your parents in over six months. you watch as they look from the various photo frames hung up on the wall alongside the staircase, to the curtains that they recently changed, finally landing on the record player thay was sitting on the table. "wow, mr. l/n, where did you get this?", jaehyun asks, and you wonder whether he's trying to make conversation or if he's genuinely curious. you think it may be the second one.

while him and your dad engage in small talk about his record player, you turn to your mom to ask of the whereabouts of your little sister, and as if on cue, you hear an excited squeal from the top of the stairs. all four heads turn to see your sister bounding down the stairs hurriedly, paying no mind to your mom's strained shout of "careful!".

"y/n!", she piped, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs and running straight to you, wrapping her arms around your legs. she barely reaches your hip so her hug is really just her face pressed into your thigh with her arms squeezing your legs together, while you pat the top of her head.

somehow managing to pry her off of your legs, you kneel and give her a proper hug in return, now happy that you made the decision to come home for a bit of your holiday. she lets go and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and jutting her hand out to you, urging you to take it.

you smile and furrow your eyebrows with confusion but you take the paper anyway, opening it as carefully as you could so as to not tear it anywhere. smoothing it out flat on your knee, you're greeted with a drawing; two people stand holding hands under a deep blue sky, a large yellow sun shining in one corner along with some "birds" that are really just little 'v's scribbled in black. they're stood on a beach, at least you think they are because there are two shades of blue on the paper, one of them probably being the blue hue of the ocean.

you assume the two people are you and your sister, since one of them has shorter, shoulder length hair and is miniscule compared to the other person, who's hair length and height are similar to yours.

you hold the picture to your chest and pull your sister in for another heartfelt hug, kissing her temple. "is this us?", you ask her, pointing at the two people in the drawing. she gives you a proud nod in return, taking the picture from your hands and holding it in front of her face. "yup! the big girl is you and the small girl is me! we're gonna go swimming.", she informs you, flashing you the toothiest of smiles. "thank you, it's perfect.", you tell her, ruffling her hair a little as she hands you the drawing back.

she clearly doesn't appreciate that, because she whines and swats your hands away, but soon her eyes focus on something behind you and they enlarge, the second excited squeal of the day emerging from her lips. "jae!", she just about screams, completely abandoning you in favour of running off to jaehyun, who has a wide smile on his face and looks equally as happy as her. he scoops her up in his arms and lifts her in front of his face, doing a little spin as peals of laughter escape her.

he finally puts her down but she holds on to his hand, looking at the male with absolute adoration. "hi, cutie.", he boops her nose affectionately to which she giggles, turning to look at you. "you didn't tell me jaehyun was coming!"

"i wasn't sure if he could make it", you reply to her honestly, looking at jaehyun as you speak because only the two of you know what you really mean by that. he holds your eye contact for perhaps a millisecond longer than he did before, but again, it was gone in a flash. he clears his throat a little and straightens up, rocking back on his heels.

sensing a shift in the air but mistaking it for some form of awkwardness, your mother shoos the rest of your family away in the direction of the kitchen. "they probably want to freshen up together, let's let them do that."

once they're gone, it feels like you can finally release your breath, truly seeing this situation going wrong in so many ways. they don't suspect anything yet, but how much longer until they eventually connect the dots? or what if they don't even need to do that, because jaehyun only agreed so he could embarrass you by telling them the whole story? you don't acknowledge the tense silence until jaehyun speaks up. "can i use the guest bathroom? still the second door on the right, yeah?"

you don't respond immediately because you're processing the fact that he still remembers these minute details. you also realise he's only asking because he doesn't want to share your bathroom with you, and that clears your thoughts up a little. you nod in affirmation and he begins climbing up the stairs, and you wait until you hear he's reached the upstairs landing before you move.

it's so tense. the last time you were in this house with jaehyun, you had taken a short road trip to get there. you say road trip, but it was just a couple hours long, but the playlist you and jaehyun had curated said otherwise. you arrived at the house and everyone was all smiles, your parents just happy to have you home and happy to see him as well. you think that part's just as hard as thinking about the two of you together. the fact that your slightly judgemental parents adored him, your little sister looked at him with stars in her eyes– you had lucked out in every department, and you were always aware of it, the joint guilt you felt from breaking it off and lying to your parents really getting to you now.

you swore that after this was over, you would apologise to jaehyun and finally break the truth to your parents.

finishing off in the bathroom, you step out into the hall, only to bump straight into jaehyun. backing up awkwardly, you both try to get past each but keep going in the same direction, resulting in a bunch of 'sorry–'s and 'wait– just–'s being blurted out by the two of you. finally getting past you, he doesn't look back at you again, just walking down the stairs mumbling something about "they're waiting...".

wincing, you make your way down the stairs as well, arriving at the living room to see your mom standing beside your dad with an excited expression on her face. you approach with caution, noting that your dad has his hands behind his back. "so...", your mother starts, raising her shoulders a little out of anticipation. "since we haven't seen the two of you in a while...we got you some presents! nothing too grand but..."

"mom, it's not even christmas", you whine, ready to argue with them because you feel bad that whatever they got was still overpriced, but your mother shakes her head, urging your dad to reveal the presents. "just take a look first..."

in one hand he holds a small, white box, no bigger than his palm, and your mom picks it up, holding it out to you. the print on the box is small and typewriter-like, the material it's made out of just screaming fancy. you narrow your eyes at your parents but take the box in your hand anyway, pushing it open. inside, it reveals maybe the prettiest necklace you've seen; dainty and silver, the chain is simple but it's the pendant that's the real charm– it's an uncut stone of some kind, a pale, translucent white crystal that's pretty much shapeless but it's wrapped in this thin silver wire that forms little loops and hearts over the stone and it makes it so alluring.

"it's a seaglass necklace", your mom speaks, taking the necklace out of its box for you and inclining her head for you to turn around. you're now facing jaehyun, who looks curiously at the new piece of jewellery with the faintest of smiles on his face. pushing your hair to the side, your mother places the necklace around your neck and clasps it (though it takes her a while, squinting and looking at the necklace hook from every angle because she forgot to wear her reading glasses). she leads you to the mirror by the entrance of the hall so you could get a better look at the necklace hanging on top of your collarbones, reaching up to touch it. "you remember? from that lady who owned the fancy place by the beach last summer?"

you do remember. that was the first trip jaehyun had joined you and your family for, under the suggestion of your little sister. when you brought up the fact that jaehyun was going back home to see his parents a little later than he had anticipated, your sister immediately asked if he would want to come with all of you, who were heading to the beach in a day or two for a little family getaway. and much to your surprise, your parents were very warm to the idea of jaehyun accompanying the lot of you. he must have severely impressed them the first time he met them, bringing a bouquet of flowers for your mother and a hearty bottle of whiskey for your dad– it's like he had won their hearts before he had even stepped inside the house.

of course, he had met them a couple more times again after that, but your parents had never raised any issues about your then boyfriend. your dad had claimed that he wanted jaehyun to come along so he could "keep an eye on him" and "see how he treats you in front of us", but you knew all too well he just wanted someone to talk to about his interest in sound systems. the trip had gone so smoothly, so perfectly and you think that it had planted the seeds of doubt in your mind about your relationship.

the position of the window and sun allowed for the light to bleed on to half of your face, the necklace glinting under the rays as you stood in front of the mirror and surveyed it. the last couple drops of the golden hour sun slipped through the windowpane and painted your skin like it was a canvass and the necklace was the cherry on top. you were radiant, and the look in jaehyun's eyes told you that he knew it too. when your eyes meet in the mirror, it's like he tears his eyes away from you, forcing himself to look at his shoes.

snapping out of your soon-to-be miserable thoughts, you fix a smile on to your face so as to not seem ungrateful, turning to hug your mother. "i love it", and you really do, knowing that you wouldn't be wearing a single other piece of jewellery for the next couple months.

jaehyun stands in the doorway soundlessly, just taking in the scene. he had always told you that he wished his family was as close and tight-knit as yours, but due to his dad always being away on some business trip or another and his mother having her own job to attend to, it resulted in a lot of time spent by himself.

you think that might be way he slotted right in with the rest of you, from the very first meet, because his desire to belong worked very well with your family's lively, chaotic home, which welcomed him right away. this was the main reason why couldn’t bring yourself to tell your family that you had broken up him mercilessly. they wouldn’t blame you of course, but you know everyone would be immensely disappointed when they realised that he hadn’t even done anything wrong in the first place; he was so good to you, and they just wanted to see you happy.

while your mom cooed at how pretty the necklace looked on you, your dad faces jaehyun with a wide grin on his face. "you didn't think we'd forget about you, did you?"

he probably wasn't expecting anything for himself, because you weren't either, so you and jaehyun simultaneously furrow your eyebrows. "oh, mr. l/n, you didn't have to–", he starts but your father is quick to cut him off, waving his hands. "what nonsense. of course we had to get you something, it's no big deal", he tries to appear nonchalant but the smile that creeps on to his face is a telltale sign that it is, in fact, a big deal. "besides, if you're family to y/n, you're family to us."

it's as if someone just stuck a large knife into you, the pang you just felt in your stomach. you can't even begin to think about what must be going through jaehyun's head, because even he can't hide the way his eyes soften at your dad's words. watching your sister spring up from the couch, she runs behind your father and plucks whatever he was holding out of his hands, now revealed to be a medium-sized bag. "i wanna give it to jaehyun!", with that, she's running over to him with the toothiest smile plastered on her cheeks, holding the bag out to jaehyun with stretched arms.

he ruffles her hair just like you did, but she makes absolutely zero complaints as he does it– if anything she's revelling in it. this makes you want to scoff, but you smile instead without thinking about it, taking a couple steps away from the mirror and towards them. "are you gonna open it or should i take it back to the store?", your dad jokes and jaehyun chuckles quietly while you don't even bother forcing a laugh, and he takes the bag from your sister's hands, mumbling a soft 'thank you'.

from where you're standing, you can't see what's inside the bag, but you can see jaehyun's eyes widen when he looks inside and back up at everyone. "me and mrs. l/n, i can't take this."

"of course you can", your mother tuts in response, dismissing him with her hand. "if i recall correctly, you had said something about your airpods not working properly?"

realisation dawns on your face when jaehyun pulls the shiny headphones from the bag, turning them over in his hand. "i think i did mention it, yeah...", he nods, eyes scanning over the clear box he holds. you remember that only one of his airpods would function properly, the other deciding whenever it wanted to do its job. you didn't realise your parents remembered, as well. "but these are so expensive, i can't–"

"do you like them or not?", your dad asks, shrugging his shoulders. jaehyun's quick to nod, "yes, i love them but–"

"then end of story." your father's not hearing anyone out, even going so far as to cover his ears jokingly when jaehyun opens his mouth again. after your sister tugs on his pant leg and urges him to try them out, jaehyun slips them over his ears, whipping his phone to connect them to it. he thought it was too expensive to try fixing his airpods so he resorted to listening with just the one ear in, or using your headphones till you broke up.

by the look on his face, they work just fine, and he couldn't be happier. a wide smile is pressed on his face, a real one that doesn't even drop when he makes eye contact with you. you smile back at him slowly, but he doesn't look away immediately, slowly turning to look at your parents. "i don't know what to say. thank you."

you'd had a couple boyfriends before, not none as close to your family as jaehyun had been. none of your previous relationships had lasted very long and you could never pinpoint the exact reason why, you just knew at some point that you had to break it off. your mother always thought that this was a result of your first ever relationship, the first and last man that ever dumped you. it crushed you at the time, though you were able to power through, but since then, relationships were never your strong suit. change seemed promising when you met jaehyun through a mutual friend, however. he was kind, he was smart and he was genuine, three traits that you didn't typically see in guys you dated, but you didn't see any reason to dwell on your biggest fumble yet.

the rest of time until dinner continues in a steadfast manner with all of you sitting in the living room. the scene looked like something out of a corny movie montage, but the beautiful part of it was that it was reality, all the laughs, the eye-smiles, the stupid jokes and conversations, all of it. your parents had recently returned from a holiday together that they took to celebrate their wedding anniversary, which meant that you two deserved to look through all eight hundred and sixty two of the photos they took. super proud of the new projector he had ordered off amazon, your dad had connected his phone to it and was going through his gallery slideshow-style, with your mom making offhand comments about every other photo.

"that's from when we went on a date to this fancy restaurant, that's from the shoe store your dad wanted to go to...oh! that's when your dad just learnt how to take 0.5x pictures on his new phone!"

your mom speaks animatedly while each photo is being shown, pointing out various different things without any prompting. there were badly taken selfies of your parents that made both you and jaehyun laugh, pictures of the different kinds of food they ate, the said 0.5's of your mother taken from the top of her forehead– your dad was slapping his knee even though your mom wasn't too impressed.

after what seemed like years, they ran out of vacation pictures and moved on to pictures and videos taken during your little sister's talent show. this was especially endearing, because your normally high-energy sister was suddenly all shy and avoidant of eye contact in the presence of jaehyun, particularly displeased with a video of her singing on stage.

jaehyun wipes the pout right off her face however, poking her cheek with a smile. "you sound amazing, s/n", he pipes genuinely, and she's back to smiling again, even offering to sing the song for everyone towards the end. no one has the heart to turn down so innocent a request, so for the next couple minutes you are subjected to a very slightly off-key rendition of some song from the movie 'frozen'. everyone cheers when she is done, jaehyun even throwing in a little "whoo!" for good measure, and your sister performs a small curtsey before seating herself between you and jaehyun's legs.

you're situated on the same couch, but only so that things don't look weird. you invited him here to pose as your boyfriend, and he agreed, so you have to play the part too. that part wasn't as hard as you expected, the acting like a couple, no, it was the avoiding questions that was really getting to you. at some point in the conversation, your dad had congenially asked jaehyun when the next time he'd be coming home was. normally, he would congenially reply with something like "as soon as possible", but this time, he just froze. he appeared to attempt a reply, but was cut short at "uh–", the rest of the sentence never following through.

hoping to repair the awkward moment, you start to construct a fib. "jaehyun's been uh– you know, working at one of those um, nursing homes–", this is too out-of-the-box a reply even for jaehyun who turns to you, trying and failing to the hide incredulous look on his face.

"a nursing home? oh, i didn't know you were training to be a nurse!", your mother is surprised but definitely not disappointed, placing her hand on her chest with a sympathetic look on her face as she looks at jaehyun. he looks as if he's trying to speak to you using only his eyes, widening and squinting them at a rapid pace, tilting his head towards you so your parents don't see his expression. there are clear signs of confusion and you're aware he's questioning your decisions, but that's as far as you get with his eye signals and you let him know by shrugging and wincing, so he closes them while sighing inwardly and turns to face your parents, a fake smile stuck on his lips.

"yes! haha, funny story, this one...", he grits his teeth but furthers your stupid concoction of a story, snapping his fingers while trying to think. "i'm not really training to be a nurse, i just volunteer there sometimes. love being around old people, you know, makes me feel full of life–"

you cut him off before he can make this even worse for the both of you, taking in your mother's furrowed eyebrows and your dad's slightly opened mouth. "yes, well, it's hard for him to catch a break, you know, with all the...", you slap your hand over his knee and give it a little squeeze, turning to him with a grin while he smiles tightly back at you, eyes focusing on the hand on his thigh without changing his expression. "...hard work he does."

jaehyun's eyes don't leave your hand, seeing as this is the first act of skinship in six months, albeit casual. your hand feels so hot that you think you might be burning a hole through the material of jaehyun's jeans, finally ripping your hand off of him.

"of course...", your father trails off in confusion, and no one can seem to make head or tails of the situation. in a moment, your mother pauses before clapping her hands, seemingly already forgotten about the strange situation as she chimes "dinner in five!~". your sister scampers off with claims of helping your mother out in the kitchen (and probably to try and secure a spot close to you and jaehyun), and jaehyun stands up and heads to the cupboard containing all your placemats without out even being asked. you offer to help but he shakes his head, and you opt to go sit back down on one of the arm chairs facing the kitchen area, just observing.

this was one of jaehyun's qualities that made you fall in love with him, but also pissed you off to no end. first of all, didn't he ever get tired of just being so good all the time? second of all, why couldn't his own parents see what everyone else saw in him? and thirdly, why did you choose to ruin your life six months ago? as for the last one, you knew why, but the extent of your stupidity was real apparent to you now.

you look away when he meets your eyes and catches you, your heart beating fast when you see out of the corner of your eye that his gaze lingers for a moment or two. underneath all that hatred, was there still a small part of him that cared about you? after you broke up with him, over call that too, he attempted to call you back two or three times, but you couldn't bring yourself to pick up. out of fear or maybe even shame, you never answered his calls and since then, you'd had no contact.

it was impossible. with a break-up like that and six month's worth of time to sit and think about it, you imagine that one could hold a surprising amount of hatred for someone–especially after a relationship as real as yours. if you switched the roles, you think you wouldn't feel much different.

at your mom's signal, you heave yourself off the couch and to the dining table, seating yourself next to jaehyun (everyone expected you to sit with him, they left the chair empty on purpose). your sister has already claimed the spot opposite jaehyun and was patiently awaiting the vegetables that she knew your mother was going to pile on her plate, a little pout forming on her lips at the sight of broccoli. "you can't make that face every time, like i'm feeding you dog food", your mother scolds her with a smile, giving her a generous helping of veggies. the pout deepens and she folds her arms with a cross look on her face. "you guys don't have to eat the broccoli. why do i?"

she's got a point, you think, but before you can tell her to just eat them, jaehyun speaks. "that's exactly what my little cousin sungchan said...", jaehyun tells her, looking around the table with a dramatic sigh. "and we all know what happened to him..."

little cousin sungchan? as far as you know, there is no little cousin sungchan, and you know a lot about jaehyun's family, so you put your fork down in favour of listening to his story at the same time your sister curiously asks, "what happened?".

"well, like you, sungchan didn't like eating his veggies", starting off the story with a shrug under your mother's listening ears, he talks in a low voice. "he'd always argue with my aunt till one day, he refused to eat them.

your sister is knocking food around her plate while she listened to jaehyun, and she's not impressed with the story so far. "see! why can't i do that?", she asks indignantly, and your mother shoots jaehyun a look to which he winced and continues. "nothing happened for a while, so sungchan thought he had proved his point. but he hadn't heard of the veggie monster."

the story is heading in such a stupid direction that you almost laugh out loud, but you catch yourself when you notice your sister's expression, guarded and wary. "...the veggie monster? ...that's not real...", she speaks like she's not fully sure of her words herself, pausing her attack on her food.

"sungchan thought that too", jaehyun agrees, lowering his voice like one would when telling a scary story, looking around him like it could be listening before continuing, for the story's sake. "but he didn't know that without veggies, a child's body is weak. their bones don't grow strong, they stay small and their minds aren't sharp at all. that's how the veggie monster chooses his targets."

you hold back a snort at your sister's wide-eyed expression and how serious jaehyun looks, he's even got your dad attempting to look nonchalant as he followed the story. "the less veggies a kid eats, the weaker they get, and that's easy pickings for the veggie monster. he comes late at night, and there's no point in hiding because he knows. he can smell when a kid doesn't have enough vitamins and it makes him hungry."

with your sister, your parents and even you hanging on to every word, jaehyun lowers his voice to almost a whisper, and all of you lean in closer to listen. "legend has it that he looks so scary that you lose the ability to move or speak, so he just takes you. sungchan was never seen again. the police said he was missing but i knew what happened to him."

you have to admit, jaehyun can tell a story. the atmosphere felt more eerie as he concluded the story cryptically, but your sister looks positively gutted. "did he take him?", she questions, face white and voice small. he nods slowly, like he didn't want to be talking about this, and all you can think about is how this man deserved an award after the show he put on. "i had my suspicions. no one believed me, but i'm ninety-nine percent sure that at dinner, i saw a pair of dark, red eyes staring straight into the kitchen from the window."

as if nature was a paid fucking actor, a slight crash sounds from outside the window on cue, like if a cat knocked over a plastic bin, but you're pretty sure your sister shit her pants. you've never seen her shovel vegetables into her mouth at that kind of record speed before, even your parents are looking at her astounded. with her food in her mouth, she pleads with glazed eyes, "please– i'm sorry, i'll have my veggies, don't let him take me!"

it takes all of you a little while to convince your sister that she'd be completely fine if she ate all the veggies given to her and that the veggie monster wouldn't even think of her, but it's safe to say that she'd never leave a bit of stray carrot on her plate ever again. your mom comically mouths 'thank you' to jaehyun which makes you laugh, and you turn to smile at him, and he gives you a nod in return. small steps, you think, because a nod is a whole lot better than a glare.

the rest of the dinner continues as if nothing changed. sure, you and jaehyun knew things were different, but it didn't fully feel like it at the moment. your mom had prepared a lot of nice food for the occasion, and your dad even helped, particularly proud of the way his stir fry turned out. jaehyun made sure to compliment both your parents on their cooking, and they all but melted– he still knew exactly how to talk to them. conversation was easy; you talked about work, you talked about how university was going, you talked about the school play your sister was going to take part in, about jaehyun's parents, nothing was forced.

you'd fall into comfortable silences at times in favour of sitting back and observing, listening, just being a part of the moment. for someone who was so reluctant to be here, jaehyun seems comfortable, the familiarity of the situation helping ease the tension between the two of you. expecting some bumps along the way, you were rather pleased with how things were turning out, but you were also anticipating the end of the lovely evening– where you and jaehyun would eventually go your separate ways. you don't want to think about it just yet, not when everything was going so smoothly, and your opportunity to snap out of your thoughts is presented to you, just not in the way you would have liked.

your mother's question seems to have thrown jaehyun for a loop as well, because his eyebrows are furrowed and he looks blatantly confused. at some point during a lull in the conversation, your mother had politely asked jaehyun how his christmas in japan had gone; the only problem with this question was that he never had a christmas in japan, not to his knowledge anyway. this, was yet another lie you had told your parents, when they had asked why jaehyun hadn't accompanied you home to celebrate christmas, like he had originally planned to. unbeknownst to them, you had already broken up with him prior to the christmas holidays, so jaehyun wasn't exactly going to come along anyway. so, you told them that he had to spend christmas with an aunt in japan, for familial reasons.

you didn't exactly have time to prep jaehyun and give him a run down of every single lie he had to play along with, so he turns to you with a look of uncertainty and desperation in his eyes. "my, uh- christmas? in japan?", he puts emphasis on the two keywords, not blinking when he speaks directly to you in hopes that you would take the hint and help him out.

"yeah, your christmas. in japan. with your aunt", you reply to him with the same tone and expression as he does, trying your best to sound subtle so your parents don't catch on.

"yes, with your aunt! we were so sad to hear that you couldn't make it for christmas", your mother is unknowingly helping jaehyun catch up with the fake story, and he releases a short "ahh" during his moment of 'recollection'. "right, my real aunt who definitely lives in japan."

he grits his teeth when he talks, making you grimace and the fact that your parents look completely puzzled doesn't help. you need to save your dignity anyway, so you try to cut jaehyun off before he can make things worse. "haha, jaehyun of course she's your real aunt, silly", you awkwardly chuckle, feigning nonchalance when you bump his shoulder with your fist, wishing you could telepathically communicate with him right now, but you'd probably only be saying "please, please, please" on repeat.

he sighs but speaks up again, much to your relief. "it was slightly boring, my aunt doesn't do much", he laughs softly, fully back in character. "but you know, it's still nice to spend time with your family."

if your parents are suspicious, they don't say anything, seemingly satisfied with jaehyun's answer. dinner continues with few hitches until jaehyun insists that he washes the dishes. "it's the least i can do, after you both made such delicious food."

your mother at least tries to argue with him for a bit, but your dad is quite happy to not have to wash dishes, patting jaehyun on the back before standing up. what surprises you however, is jaehyun turning to you with the sweetest, most fake smile you've seen in a minute plastered on his face. "you mind helping, y/n?"

smiling tightly, you nod and begin clearing the table. this is done in silence, neither of you even looking at each other as you pick up dishes and carry them to the kitchen. your sister has run off to the living room to watch some t.v with your dad, and it feels like you're finally allowed to breathe when your mother exits the room as you’re picking up the last dirty dish. walking into the kitchen, jaehyun's back is facing you while he washes dishes, the environment and the little tune he's humming making everything seem so domestic in your eyes. this is how dinner used to always go when he came over, with you and him washing the dishes together in the end, taking breaks to splash each other with the soapy water or making out secretly by the counter.

but the air is foreign now, none of the former warmth or softness remaining. he turns to you with a frown when you place the final dish on the side of the sink, and he really doesn't look too happy. "visiting an aunt in japan? really?", he scoffs, looking incredulous while you look sheepish, avoiding his eye contact entirely.

you were expecting something like this but you hated being put on the spot. "i don't know, okay, what else was i supposed to say?", the exasperation in your voice is evident but it only fuels jaehyun, and rightfully so.

"i got an idea, how about 'oh, he can't come because i dumped his ass over call for no reason, sorry'?", he digs snidely, voice laden with scorn. there it is. "or is that too close to the truth for you?"

he doesn’t even let you open your mouth, chucking the cloth he was using to dry the dishes on the counter somewhere, folding his arms while he looks at you in a hostile way. “you wanna know how i really spent my christmas, y/n?”, he sneers sardonically, a sarcastic smile etched on to his lips. “alone in my house. miserable. i wish i had an aunt in fucking japan that i could’ve spent it with.”

you hate to admit it, but his words sting and you are well aware that you deserve it. just asking him to join you for this dinner was a huge reach, a request you really didn't expect him to accept. you don't fully understand why he did, though. he clearly despised you, so many be it was out of love for your family? you know jaehyun cared for them, but doing all this was uncharacteristic even for him. when you don't say anything but wear an agonised expression on your face, jaehyun further questions you.

"do you not have anything to say for yourself?", he tries again, his voice a little softer and more hopeful than before but you look like you're fighting some internal battle that doesn't involve him. he exhales deeply, clearly disappointed in your lack of an explanation and just walks past you and out of the kitchen.

you remain in the kitchen for a couple beats more, trying your level best to collect yourself. you can feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes and your breathing is quicker, but this is the absolute worst time to have a little panic attack in the kitchen. how you wished the two of you could just forget about everything for a minute so you could wrap your arms around his figure and fall into his embrace, feeling like that would solve all your problems. it's selfish and wrong, but you know that you're not getting over jaehyun anytime soon.

you'd come to that conclusion a couple months back. the first month after you broke things off with him was possibly the worst time of your life, struggling to eat, sleep or even get out of bed. your friends urged you to reach out to him like they knew you wanted to, but you remained stubborn, convinced at the time that you had made the right decision that would hurt the least for the both of you. you were wrong, you could see that now, but you knew it was much too late. you'd already gone through all the stages of grief, but seeing jaehyun again in this environment had really gone and thrown a spanner in the works for you, all because of your terrible decision-making skills.

any hopes you had of the two of you at least being on semi-friendly terms had just flown out the window as well, and you suddenly think that this might've been the reason why jaehyun even agreed to come. an explanation. a well-deserved one at that. you don't know why you find it so hard to give him one, but you suspect it's because you're not ready to face all that yourself.

upon hearing your mother faintly call out your name, you realise how long you've been standing in the kitchen, taking a couple more deep breaths before you join the rest of them. it's clear that everyone's winding down, your sister curled up on your dad's lap, trying to blink away her sleepiness, while everyone else mutedly watched the television. "didn't mean to keep you all up past your bedtime", you try to joke lightheartedly because your parents look like they're about to hit the hay themselves, but it's really so that no one suspects you were having a little breakdown in the kitchen; especially jaehyun.

"you're not wrong", your dad agrees gruffly, stretching a little before tapping on your sister's cheek to wake her, much to her displeasure. "it's technically your mama's turn to put you to bed, isn't it?", he attempts, but is quickly shot down by your mother, pinching his arm after claiming it was certainly not her turn. after their grand performance, both of them comically turn to look at you with a suspiciously bright look in their eyes. you don't even have time to argue, because the second the hint of a sigh leaves your mouth, they're saying "thank you" and "how nice of you to offer", urging your sister to wake up to let her know that you'll be tucking her in tonight.

she perks up a little at this, nodding with a little glint in her eyes. hopping off your dad's lap, she sleepily totters over to you. "can jae come too?", her voice is hopeful and small, and she yawns in the middle of her sentence but she just has this certain charm that makes everyone unable to say 'no' to her. this includes jaehyun, because one look from her with her arms raised and he's picking her up, pretending to complain about it. you can't help but smile at the whole interaction.

"oh quick! before i forget...", your mom gasps in remembrance, picking her phone up from the coffee table with a tired smile. "don't know when i'll get to see the two of you again so, pictures!"

this may be the only part you were slightly prepared for. your mother had a special affinity for taking photos; not that she was any good at it, she just enjoyed capturing these little moments and treating her gallery like a scrapbook. she had more or less documented the entirety of you and jaehyun's relationship, from the first few months where all the photos were cheesy smiles and awkward poses, to when you had grown more comfortable around each other. in fact, a photo she had taken of jaehyun was your wallpaper for quite some time (it took a lot of effort and explaining to help your mom airdrop you the picture)– it was a shot of jaehyun and your sister grinning from ear to ear, both adorning aprons that were covered in flour after a failed attempt at baking cookies.

the point being, you're pretty sure jaehyun was also expecting the pictures, so it didn't really surprise you when he plastered a smile on his face and came to stand beside you. his hand finds the small of your back soon enough and it makes your body stiffen while simultaneously sending a jolt through it, and jaehyun feels it. mistaking the action for uneasiness, he immediately lifts his warm hand off you so that it's now hovering awkwardly over your body, though no one can see that from the front. while you are disappointed, you lean into him anyway, clasping your hands together behind your back as you both give the camera wide smiles. you're so close you can smell his cologne and it's making you dizzy, not because the scent is overpowering but because it's just so familiar and you can't get enough of it.

the moment is gone in a flash because your mother takes three to four photos while cooing at the two of you before she decides to call it a night, and then jaehyun is ripping himself from you. you don't think anyone else recognises it, the way he seems to want to be as far from you as possible because he's so good at masking these things, but you can feel it. you can feel this heat radiating off of his body whenever he's near you and it's not the warm, fuzzy kind of heat. the spot on your back where his hand rested still burns a little.

your parents are exhausted and look more than happy to be able to jump straight into bed, but not before thanking you and jaehyun. you hug and kiss them goodnight, promising that your next visit will be sooner than this one before they exchange pleasantries with jaehyun, making him promise the same. you know this has to be hard on him, making a mental note to apologise profusely before you part ways. with a reminder that the door now locks from the inside, they bid you goodnight and goodbye, trudging off to their room while your sister scampers up the stairs to hers, suddenly full of life.

you understand why your parents were more than happy to hand over bedtime duties to you and your "boyfriend", because putting your little sister to bed turned out to be a piece of work. she started off by blatantly refusing to brush her teeth, but jaehyun had that one sorted when he reminded her that the veggie monster had a lot of friends, so that was done. she changed into her pyjamas all on her own which was a relief, but you were at a loss over how to actually get her into bed.

you both humoured her for a bit, understanding that she was just happy to have her big sister and her big sister's nice boyfriend home again, so a little excitement was expected. jaehyun played along with her, which was a sight to see, following along with the characters she assigned him in her imaginary games. but when bouncing on her bed turned into running around the room like a crazed bunny, it was a little harder to convince her that she needed to sleep now. "look at me, i'm wide awake", she insists, widening her eyes with her fingers to show you both just how awake she was. jaehyun tried a couple times to catch her, but you're both taken by surprise at her remarkable speed and agility. in the end, you had to resort to just sitting down and hoping that she'll tire herself out, which eventually does happen.

she climbs into bed of her own accord, rubbing at her eyes while you pull the duvet over her body, up to her shoulders. "when are you coming next?", she mumbles curiously while you sit on the edge of her bed, jaehyun standing close by. "soon", you reply honestly, knowing that you'll always have a safe place to come to whenever you need. "maybe i'll even stay for a whole weekend next time."

she likes the sound of this, smiling tiredly with her hands peeking over the edge of her cover, holding it closer to her. "will you come too?", this question is directed towards jaehyun, who looks defeated when he opens his mouth to answer. it's not fair, expecting him to lie to your family like this, but you know you've gotta come clean soon. you'd made up your mind at this point and come up with a plan; you'd explain yourself to jaehyun and apologise after which you'll go your separate ways, then you'll tell your family the truth after tonight, or at least make up a more recent break up, and that's that.

when jaehyun looks to you for help, you play with your hands a little, not fully knowing what to say. "if the old ladies at the nursing home let him go, maybe...", is what you decide is the safest option to go with, and your sister seems satisfied enough, giggling drowsily. you know she's close to falling asleep, and you're about to inwardly celebrate a job well done when she pops her next, unexpected question. "will you both be together forever?"

oh. there's a hint of teasing behind her voice, but everything else about the question is innocent and genuine, blinking her eyes open so she can look at the both of you when you answer. though you're not touching him, you can feel jaehyun stiffen next to you, his voice sounding more than a little awkward when he lets out an involuntary "uhh".

"what do you mean, cutie?"

you don't know why he asks that, because it's a pretty straightforward question; will the two of you be together forever? you want to laugh at the irony because you know that if she had asked the same question last time jaehyun came home, you both would have exchanged knowing smiles, giggling shyly while you tried to answer. the answer would've been 'yes', and you know deep down that it still should be.

she clicks her tongue like it's the most obvious and easy question in the world, shrugging her shoulders when she speaks. "you know, that's what people do when they're in love,", she answers with no hesitation, and you want to roll your eyes because who kidnapped your little sister and replaced her with dhar mann? "just like mommy and daddy!"

"daddy and mommy are married, sweetie, it's a little different–"

"i know that", she cuts off your little improvised answer in a deadpan voice that almost makes you feel stupid, but all her questions have your heart thudding against your rib cage, and you're praying to god that jaehyun can't hear it too. "but still, they love each other, and that's why they're together forever. don't you love each other?"

you're pretty sure the world stopped spinning and your heart stopped beating simultaneously, most definitely not expecting these kinds of questions from your sister. how do you even prepare an answer for this kind of situation? you know for a fact that your cheeks are coated in a dark sheen of red, and out of the corner of your eye (because you refuse to look at him), you’re pretty sure you can see the distinct pink colour paint the tips of jaehyun's ears, like they always do when he's shy or embarrassed. you can't not give her an answer, because that looks weird and she's clearly waiting for one, but answering meant that you either tell her the truth, that no, you will not be together forever because your dumbass went and ruined everything for the both of you six months ago, or you can lie and say that she's right, which would be admitting a lot of things that you didn't want to admit–

"nothing's for sure, but you're right, if two people really do love each other...", jaehyun's deep voice brings all your spiralling thoughts to a halt, and you look at him for the first time in a bit, only to find that he's already looking at you, gaze raw and piercing. you hold your breath when he speaks, because you don't trust yourself at the moment. "...they'll end up together forever."

you hear your sister make some kind of a reply, but the heartbeat in your ears is so loud that you don't quite catch it, the eye contact you're holding with jaehyun so intense that it feels wrong to look away. what could he have possibly meant by that? or was it just some half-assed answer to get your sister to go to sleep? you realise that staring at him while trying to use your sixth sense to nonverbally convey these questions to him isn't going to work, but you can feel the lump forming in your throat, needing to get out of this situation quickly.

it takes everything in you to break the eye contact in favour of pressing a quick peck to your sister's temple, and she looks about ten seconds away from just crashing. "night y/n, night jae...", and with that she's out like a light, and you two wait wordlessly until her breathing evens out before silently exiting the room.

once her bedroom door is shut, you make a beeline for the front door, way too scared and vulnerable right now to look at jaehyun. he doesn't say anything, so neither do you, making sure the door is actually locked before taking your phone out of your pocket. the time on your phone screen reads '11:43', and you know it's too late to try and catch the metro or a bus, but you're too stubborn and embarrassed to ask jaehyun to drop you.

the air is cold outside, much colder than it was inside your warm house. at the current moment, there is no breeze either, the trees are still and there are only a few lights on around the street, and it just makes everything seem so still and loud. you look out at the road, eyes zeroing in on this one lamp post where you shared one of your first few kisses with the man standing beside you. it's crazy how time can change things, you think, because never would you have believed in the moment that jaehyun called you "the most beautiful girl in the world" before leaning in to sweetly connect your lips that he could ever be something so close to a stranger within months.

ultimately opting to look at him, you're once again unable to read the expression on his face as you try your best to speak your mind to him. "um, i'm gonna book a cab, so you're officially free to go. thanks again for tonight, you really didn't have to come with me, so i owe you one. or i don't have to owe you one, because we're not going to see each other again- anything's good with me, just uh...thanks."

he waits patiently for you to finish, and aside from the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes, you're at a loss over what he's really thinking, but his face is so stupidly handsome that you're feeling angry and a little awkward, choosing to look around, and at the floor, playing with your fingers as you spoke.

"you're so dramatic y/n, i can drop you home, it's no big deal", he's already walking towards the road and biting his lip, and you can't tell whether it's out of habit or if he's trying to hide a smile, yet something tells you that it might be the latter.

"so you just let me say all that even though you were gonna offer to drop me? dude..."

the initial ten minutes of the drive are uncommunicative, both of you choosing to look at the dark road instead of acknowledging the awkward silence that was swallowing the car up whole. you don’t talk about your argument in the kitchen, you don’t make small talk about dinner, you don’t talk. you'd normally play some music in the background and you know that your phone is definitely still connected to his car's bluetooth, but somehow it just doesn't feel right– punishing yourself by sitting in this impenetrable silence should do you better.

the roads are more or less empty, save for the lone car or bike that speeds past you. jaehyun knows the way to your house from your parent's because of the amount of times you've driven back and forth, so you don't feel the need to tell him to turn right or to keep going down a certain road, making for even more silence.

part of you is still a little thankful that it isn't the most short drive, even though you aren't even speaking to each other. all it takes is picturing your empty house, devoid of the homely domestic feeling it used to carry when jaehyun was a frequent visitor. what would you even do when you got home? wallow in self-pity over your life choices? play 'sweet' by cigarettes after sex because it reminds you of him, then put on his hoodie that doesn't even smell like him anymore, just so you can curl up in bed and have a good cry while you reminisce? you're starting to think that maybe attempting to talk to him isn't the worst idea, at least it'll give you something to cry about later.

you're going crazy wracking your brain, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't make the atmosphere even more uneasy, but all you got was "hey, thanks again for coming" and "hey, sorry for breaking up with you, what's good though?". you can't even help the wince creeping on your face, finally choosing to go with the former before you have a heart attack and die in jaehyun's front seat.

"thanks again for agreeing to come", you start, absolutely hating the break in your voice from not talking for some time. "you really didn't have to do that. and for dropping me."

he offers you a quick nod in your general direction and fixes his eyes on the road ahead like he was zipping through a crowded highway, though you're sure there isn't a car in sight. "like i said, it's cool", is all you get in return, and you have to remind yourself that he has every right to be short with you.

but still, you try again. "and you don't have to worry about my parents", chewing on your bottom lip, you actually look at him this time, hoping it'll prompt him to do the same, but it doesn't. "i'm gonna tell them the truth."

he releases a short breath from his nose like he finds your statement funny, but continues to not really say anything, just nodding to indicate that he heard you. you subconsciously clench and unclench your jaw at that, because god, he's so fucking annoying, but you swear you don't mean to release the slightly irritated sigh that you do. if you hadn't seen his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel, you might not have known that your little sigh pissed him off, because you can't tell it from his face, save from the barely-there eyebrow twitch.

you don't know what it is about car rides with only one other person that make you feel so vulnerable, but you think paired with this kind of silence, you could potentially confess to murder in this setting. it's infuriating, how unresponsive he is, and part of you thinks you're jealous of the control he's exerting, because you're dead sure that if you were in his position, you'd have a fair amount to say. it must be satisfying for him in a way, watching you squirm like this out of guilt and discomfort, but you know in your heart that jaehyun simply isn't like that.

"look, jaehyun", your mouth is working faster than your brain, the silence proving to be too much for you to handle. "i know i fucked things up a bit. with how i ended it and everything..."

perhaps you should've taken a little more time to properly articulate your thoughts, because even jaehyun can't control the astounded scoff that slips out of his mouth. you yourself can't believe that you chose to deliver your words like that and it makes you sound so self-righteous, but they're out, and now you're bracing yourself to finally hear what jaehyun really has to say.

"fucked things up a bit? are you serious?", you can hear it in his voice that he's holding back, but he chooses to laugh in disbelief instead, which you think is actually worse than him straight up screaming at you. "y/n, you didn't even bother telling me in person. you dumped me over the fucking phone, saying it wasn't working."

you now kind of wish that you had just kept quiet and sat in his awkward car, and exchanged awkward niceties when you reach home, never to see him again. but this is your final chance at some form of redemption, and now that jaehyun was actually speaking his mind instead of giving you tight nods, you tried to explain yourself.

"jaehyun, i know, i just–"

"i called you a bunch of times. i tried to come see you and everything, but you went and changed your lock and all your friends were saying you didn't want to see me?"

there goes trying to explain yourself. so you sat and listened instead, and it was the least you could do. jaehyun's voice became more and more strained as he talked, the emotions he was feeling now a lot more evident. he was angry, but more importantly, he was confused, and sad.

"i just- i didn't know what went wrong, you know? we were completely fine as far as i knew", he continues on in a laboured way and he's not looking for you speak right now, so you don't. "fuck i- i thought we were in love."

the little laugh he lets out in between his words more or less breaks your heart, the whole scenario sounding all too familiar. those exact words were the last thing you'd heard from jaehyun before you fully and cruelly broke things off, letting him know the decision was final before cutting the call. you remember that day so clearly. you had meant to go see him and explain all this in person, that’s the whole reason you were in the car, but for some reason, you just couldn’t do it. you remember how much your hands were shaking as you waited for him to pick up the call, sitting in the car by yourself in the middle of your driveway. how long you sat and cried after you ended the call, tears falling until there weren't any left. how it began raining the very second you stepped out of your car to go back inside.

the weather was a funny thing, choosing to mirror your mood only when it saw fit. it was warm and sunny on the day you broke up with him, gentle breeze and wispy clouds all around. it was warm and sunny this morning, the weather ever so pleasant as you plucked up the courage to walk to his door. it was still unusually warm and sunny for the couple months following your break up, feeling sour as ever that the weather was so lovely and all you could do was sit in your room and feel sorry.

you took note of all these occasions because it always used to piss you off. though you shiver now in the car, you think it's kind of satisfying in a way, because the only two times your mood and the weather lined up was right after the break up, and the second you stepped outside your house with jaehyun; it feels like a premonition, or a revelation of sorts. the grey of the stormy sky matched the absolute devastation you felt after breaking up with him, rain pouring from the heavy clouds like they were crying for you. now, the cold, still air feels like baited breath, awaiting your next move.

"and nothing, i hear nothing from you for six fucking months until you're suddenly on my doorstep, asking me to pretend to be your boyfriend for a night. that's fucking insane!", he sounds a little wild now, very exasperated, but you figure it's probably better to just let him get it all out of his system, and you'd do good to listen to him as well. everything he's saying makes complete sense, all the emotions he dealt with akin to what you would've gone through had it been you in his place. "and you know what's more insane? i agreed. after all that, i agreed."

that’s the part you don’t understand. your heart is racing listening to him and you have so many thoughts swimming around in your head, it's difficult to filter them. you feel similar to how you felt back in the kitchen, although this time you can't take a minute by yourself to get over it. you absolutely refuse to cry in this moment, not wanting to seem like you're trying to victimise yourself when you are aware you're the problem. but you can feel your heart breaking all over again.

"why did you agree?", you physically can't raise your voice to louder than a whisper, the tension too thick to try and overpower it.

"why did you dump me?", he counters like a child, and while you were expecting the question, it still makes you freeze up a little. he huffs in annoyance when you don't say anything, inclining his head while he waits expectantly for you to answer. "you wanted to talk? let's talk, y/n. you don't get to just waltz back into my life like it's nothing. it's not fair,"  it's so cold, the way he says your name, but you try your best not to let it further shake you, mustering up the courage to finally speak. "it's so stupid, jaehyun."

he looks like he's about two seconds away from just combusting, the only sound piercing the cold air being the gentle hum of the engine. "don't you think i deserve to know?", he urges, voice edged with hurt and frustration. "i spent the whole day with you and your family, pretending like everything was happy and normal when it's not."

"i know, jaehyun-"

"then, tell me."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat, teeth toying with your bottom lip as you avoid looking at him. "i don't know," you murmur, your voice barely audible to yourself over the pounding of your heart.

"you don't know?", he repeats incredulously, his tone tinged with disbelief. "after everything, you don't know? don't lie to me, y/n."

your throat tightens as guilt washes over you, but you try to stand your ground. "i just... i couldn't do it anymore," you confess, voice trembling with emotion.

"couldn't do what?", he presses, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. you know he doesn't believe you, dead set on getting the answers he deserves. he's driving slowly now, allowing him to turn his head in your direction more often.

"this!", you exclaim but immediately recoil when you see the look of hurt flash in his eyes. "no! not this, i mean- me! it's my fault, you did nothing wrong." you're saying all the wrong things, but you're too overcome with emotion to attempt to form a coherent sentence. still, you know it's time that the truth came out, so you continue to explain with a heavy heart.

"i didn't mean to hurt you," you choke out, and your voice is so thick you have to swallow before you carry on. he looks indignant and rightfully so, but you go on before he can interrupt you again. "but i was so scared, jaehyun."

his expression softens at your state, replaced with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "scared of what?", he asks quietly, his words hanging heavy in the air. you feel the need to pause for a moment, hands balled into tight fists as you try to regulate your breathing. you really didn't take into account how debilitating the night would be on yourself. sure, you knew it was going to be tough seeing jaehyun again, especially if he agreed to pretend to be together, but you weren't really expecting to hash it out like this, the weight of your decision pressing down on your like a leaden blanket.

the car moves so slow it may as well be still but  when you turn to him, you can feel the burn of jaehyun's gaze, his eyes searching for some semblance of understanding. "i loved you", he whispers, voice cracking with the intensity of his words. "i would've done anything for you."

you're still, you're so so still. tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you struggle to find the right words to say, but he's completely thrown you off. the car has slowed to a stop, engine idling before he eventually turns it off in favour of turning to you.

"that's exactly why," you reply weakly, your voice a fraction of the volume it normally is. he surveys you intently, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt, eyes reflecting the very same sadness you feel.

"what do you mean?"

"i was scared of hurting you," your confession does nothing to ease his confusion, but you can see he looks more shocked than anything now. "scared of hurting me?," he echoes, his uncertainty and disbelief palpable. "this is so ironic, it's almost funny..."

you think hearing any more of what he has to say is actually going to kill you internally, so you know you have to rush to explain before he starts giving you a piece of his mind again. "i know, it's so fucking stupid, jaehyun", your voice is trembling from the sheer guilt you feel, bottom lip quivering so much you have to bite it to get it to stop. "everything was going so perfectly, you were so perfect, and it scared me so much."

he falls silent, much to your relief, his expression even softening minutely as he processes your words and this gives you the encouragement to continue. "remember that night on the beach? on the trip last year?", you speak tentatively, wanting him to understand your thought process and the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside you at the time, though it's not much of a defense. the memory floods into your mind so vividly, and you can see it all; the salt in the air, the gentle breeze, the feeling of the sand, your intertwined hands swinging. it was so serene and you'd give anything to be there in that moment again, though it's nothing but a distant dream now.

he nods slowly without speaking, and you release a wet sort of laugh, feeling like you'd choke on the lump in your throat. "we talked about everything that night, our families, our childhoods, our futures...and then you brought up what would happen after we graduated college."

you know he remembers because his eyes light up with recognition and he looks like he's replaying that exact moment in his head, and you hope he remembers it with the same soft, gushy feeling you do. "you said you wanted to move in together, and don't get me wrong, i was thrilled, but it made me realise how...serious everything was, you know?", your voice catches in your throat and you're talking to yourself as much as you're talking to him and he seems to understand that, because he makes no attempt to stop you.

it's silent again for a bit as you two reminisce, but you break it again. "i just knew i was going to fuck up, jaehyun. maybe not right away, but eventually, and the thought terrified me," you sniffle a little, not being able to bring yourself to look up from your hands to meet his gaze. "that feeling never really went away, and it was eating me up from the inside. it got so bad that i had convinced myself that you were going to leave me, so i had to do it first, before i fucked up."

your sorrowful confession hangs in the air like an echo and you finally give in to the urge to look at him, and you're shocked– he looks at you so carefully, his expression soft, much, much softer than before. you couldn't stop the tears from finally falling if you tried , the soft glow of the dashboard illuminating the contours of your now wet face. your shared eye contact makes you feel nervous, but not in the way you were expecting– it's too gentle, too raw and it makes you feel a certain way.

"i know it's not an excuse," you're blubbering so much that your cheeks feel hot, you're practically falling apart in the passenger seat of jaehyun's car while he watches and lets you pour all your miseries out onto him. "you don't know how much i regretted it...but i thought i did the right thing. for the both of us. even though i just ended up doing what i was trying to avoid by hurting you."

it's too much now, jaehyun's too silent, and too not-angry for your liking; why is he looking at you in a way that makes you feel like he doesn't think you're the worst person in the world? you can't hold back the sob that's building in your chest, doubling over in favour of pressing your hands against your face and bawling into them. you're not too loud a cryer, but the tremors of emotion you feel are making your shoulders shake, so you're crying silently into your hands while trembling. however guarded he tries to be, the gentleness of his voice overpowers it as he speaks. "i know, shh...," he murmurs and you can't believe your ears, that the man you thought hated you is actually attempting to comfort you after everything. "breathe, y/n."

like it's second nature to him, his hand travels to your back as the sobs wrack through your body, immediately drawing soothing circles on to your covered skin with his thumb. you don't know how but this almost makes you feel worse, the fact that he's still so caring towards you. you pluck up the strength to lift your face from your moist hands, and you're sure it's not a pretty sight that greets him. your nose feels unbelievably stuffy, and your face is on fire when you meet his sympathetic eyes, the warmth from his gaze and hand spreading throughout you, even though he's now removed it. "i'm sorry," you manage through sniffles, but you think you almost flatline when he reaches his hand towards your face, ever so gently caressing it. his thumb juts out and sweeps across the skin under your eye, wiping away at the wetness. "i know."

"shh, it's okay. you're okay", he coos gently and slowly takes his hand back in favour of imitating slow breaths for you, helping you relax a little as you copy him. "why would you think i'd leave you?", he asks carefully once you've calmed down a bit and wiped your tear-streaked face, simply surveying you now. all you can offer him is a defeated shrug, attempting to collect your thoughts. "remember i told you about my ex? the very first one?"

he nods.

"i moved on obviously, like ages ago, but since then i think i've always had this idea that getting dumped is inevitable", you try to explain, voice small as he listens patiently. "it was either leave them or get left, and i was so scared that it would happen with you, that i'd fuck up so bad that you would leave. i couldn't do it."

he frowns and calls out your name in a way that sounds like he's about to lecture you, but you know he can't tell you anything that you haven't already told yourself. "i know, jae, it was so stupid, i know. i don't regret anything more", you sigh, giving him a tight, small smile when you lock eyes. "i'm sorry."

you notice his eyes soften at the nickname, releasing a quiet huff before he runs a hand through his hair. his body language doesn't carry the same anger it did before when he was ranting, now looking subdued and reflective. "i understand why you did what you did. it was stupid, but i understand", he murmurs, his voice impossibly soft when meeting your gaze, the eye contact so intense that you have to physically remind yourself not to cry again by digging your fingernails into your palms. "i would've never left you."

you nod slowly at his admission, his words hanging in the air. "i should've just talked to you...", you concluded in a sullen way and he doesn't reply in full, just mumbling a soft "yeah" under his breath. you don't mind the silence that fills the car this time, the underlying tension more or less dissipated, but you do notice the time, realising that jaehyun still needs to go back home after dropping you.

"should we, uh...", you gesture towards the road and he jumps up in his seat, as though he forgot that he was driving you somewhere in the first place, muttering "sorry" before twisting the key to start the car. this makes you let out an involuntary giggle and jaehyun shoots you a quick glare which immediately shuts you up, a certain warmth blooming in your chest when you see a small smile creep on to his face out of the corner of your eye.

it's quiet for a bit, jaehyun focusing on the road while you gaze out the window. much to your dismay, both the road and the various buildings and shops start to look a lot more familiar, indicating that you are nearing your home. you shouldn't be dismayed really, because this wasn't the most congenial of car rides, but it means that your time with jaehyun is coming to an end. you don't know what the conversation that took place means for you and him however, because unless you're alarmingly stupid, you feel that he may not hate you as much as he once did. does this mean you might even be able to see him again sometime? in a setting where you're not sweating and shaking at just the thought of seeing him?

you think it might be a bit audacious of you to ask that, so you don't. instead, you turn to him with a light grin, playing with the necklace clasped around your neck. "hey, at least you got some new headphones out of all of this", you joke lightheartedly, eyeing the package sitting on the backseat. he lets out a heartwarming chuckle at your comment, glancing at the bag through his rear view mirror. "i can't believe your parents bought that for me. you think they'll make me return it when they find out we aren't together?", he remarks, and you do your best to ignore the little pang you feel at the reminder of your situation. his comment does make you snort though, and you nod along with him. "nah, you need it more than anyone. your airpods have seen better days."

he laughs again, and you wouldn't believe that you two were arguing back and forth like madmen some twenty minutes back. this feels familiar and comfortable, and you cross your fingers in case you jinx it. "do you remember that time when we planned a picnic..." jaehyun begins, a sense of nostalgia shining through his cheeks. "and you forgot to bring the speakers? and we tried blasting music through my one airpod?"

you can't stop the peals of laughter that escape from your mouth as you nod, covering your mouth when your snort makes him laugh as well. "remind me why we didn't just play the music straight from your phone?", you question, replaying the memory in your mind like it was recent. he pauses to think for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck while he hums. "yeah, what the fuck? why didn't we just do that?"

you're laughing in unison as you take this trip down memory lane together, the next few minutes of the car ride consisting of exclamations of "oh! remember when..." and "that time when...", both of you adding on to the memories with your own perspectives and insights. the fact that the conclusion of your little dispute remains ambiguous doesn't bother you too much at the moment, happy to just enjoy the warm atmosphere while you can.

jaehyun's animatedly recounting a story about your sister downloading a game on his phone when you face him, and the last thing you remember paying attention to was that she had somehow managed to spend a large amount of his actual money on it. your eyes are focused on him now, just studying him, and he seems to realise that you aren't listening to his story when he glances at you.

"what?", he questions, the corner of his eyes crinkling when he narrows them at you in an playful manner, taking one hand off the steering wheel to drum absentmindedly on his thigh. "nothing, i just...", you trail off, scanning his features. "you changed your hair. it's...nice. i wanted to tell you that earlier."

he clearly wasn't expecting the compliment, mouth opening and then closing as he tries to think of an admissible reply. "you like it?", he then asks, a shy smile tugging at his lips when he consciously cards his fingers through the longer bit at the back. at your reaffirming nod and heavy gaze, the expected pink sheen dusts his cheeks and though you can't see them, you know the tips of his ears are pink too. he mumbles something of a timid "thank you", both of you smiling like idiots while he trains his eyes on the road.

not too soon after, his car is pulling into your dark driveway. you can't help the sinking feeling in your chest, lips curved slightly downwards. none of the lights are on, save for the streetlight, illuminating the street in a ghostly, dim way. your house looks just like it had for the past many months, gloomy and lonely, and you're absolutely dreading the idea of moping around once again. if this day spent with jaehyun has showed you anything, it's that you're a 100% sure you've not moved on, and that you won't for a long, long time. simply put, you're still in love with him, and you'll have to carry the cross of your mistake for some time to come.

he switches the ignition off but neither of you move. you're sat in your dull driveway on an otherwise empty street, all the other lights of your neighbouring houses off. neither of you say anything, mostly because you're not sure what one is supposed to say in this situation, so everything is still.

"so–"

"well–"

you let out a nervous chuckle while he smiles a bit, both of you mumbling apologies for interrupting each other. "you go first", jaehyun compels you, but now you don't know what to say because you were just going to make it up as you speak. your mouth has a way of working faster than your brain sometimes, but neither seem to be too functional at the present moment. "no, you go", is all you got, and jaehyun has the nerve to roll his eyes, twisting in his seat a little so he's facing you.

"i was just going to say that we uh, reached your place", he claims in a deadpanned manner, but your car door is still locked and your seatbelt is still locked in. you think you must have lost your mind, hoping that he'd tell you to stay with him forever and never leave (which you would have agreed to in a heartbeat). "i guess we have...", you nod, looking out the window and observing your home. maybe it was the dread of going back to your old routine that gave you the sudden boost of confidence, but you realise he never answered your question from before.

"jaehyun...", you begin but falter when you think you might be overstepping, ultimately deciding to just ask anyway when he looks at you expectantly. "why did you agree to come today? we both know you didn't have to."

he looks like he was dreading the very question you asked for some time, shutting his eyes when he leans his head back against the headrest and sighs. "i don't know", is the answer he gives you, voice muffled through the palms of his hands that are rubbing his face tiredly. biting your lip, you have to hold back a similar sigh because you should've known he's not going to just tell you like that. you have no right to press, but yet you do, one more time. "jaehyun, please?"

maybe it's because you sound so meek, but he drops his hands in favour of looking at you, really looking at you, like he's searching your eyes. "why do you think?", he turns it back on you, but you know this is just his way of avoiding the question. "if i knew, i wouldn't be asking. i know you don't have to tell me, you don't owe me a single thing, i just–", you speak desperately with all of the confidence you can muster, worried that your bottom lip would start trembling again. "please, i need to know."

you're looking each other dead in the eye, and while your voice isn't strong, it's honest and raw, and jaehyun can sense that. you can see that there's a million thoughts running in his mind just by the pained look in his eye and your own heartbeat has picked up, the sound deafening in your ears.

"if you haven't figured it out by now, i don't know what to tell you."

thud. thud. thud. you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat over the sound of his, but the blood pumping through your veins is making your ears ring, because what did he mean by that? you hope it means what you want it to mean, but you can't just assume you know everything because you're delusional at this point. "jaehyun, what are you sayi–"

"i agreed because i'm still in love with you."

there it is. the silence after his confession is positively deafening, your mouth agape as your try to register what you just heard. your eyes flicker between his, searching for any signs that he's just messing you and that it's some cruel joke, though it would be completely in his right to fuck with you if he wanted. he's never looked more vulnerable, eyes trained on you in an almost frantic way, like he himself can't believe what he just said. the way he just blurted it out makes you think that he didn't fully mean to admit that, but it's out, nothing he could do to take it back.

"what?", your own voice sounds like an echo and you wish you had something else to say because you heard him loud and clear, but there's a burning ache in your chest that claws all the way up to your throat. the shock is evident in your voice, not knowing what to do with yourself as you visibly process his words. "tell me you're joking", you plead in a pained way, words barely above a whisper. he doesn't say anything, looking lost in his own thoughts as his eyes scan your face. "you don't hate me?"

"hate you?", he scoffs disconsolately, shaking his head slowly. "i couldn't hate you if i tried. and believe me, i tried."

you can hardly believe your ears. you know your heart shouldn't be pounding the way it is, it feels wrong almost for you to be feeling as relieved as you are. "after everything?", you insist dumbfoundedly, but the longing in your voice is palpable, even if you're trying to give him a way out. "i was so horrible to you, jaehyun." you hate the way your voice cracks, but jaehyun just sighs and offers you a sad smile.

"there's nothing you could do to make me hate you."

it's heartbreaking, how defeated he sounds, but he's also looking at you like you could do no wrong in his eyes. "i never moved on", you whisper, hesitance clear as you tell him the truth. "i couldn't delete any of our pictures, i still have all your clothes, sometimes i accidentally set the table for two when it's just me..."

he's blinking quickly, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was trying to hold back tears. your break-up did nothing but cause immense amounts of pain for the both of you, and you'd give anything in the world to make up the time lost. his wide-eyed and nearly motionless expression urges you to continue, ready to pour out your heart to the man you loved.

"i still have your number memorised", your face mirrors his, voice growing stronger by the minute. "all the gifts and letters you've ever given me, they're all still there in that shoebox in my cupboard."

"i thought about you everyday", his whisper is raspy, speaking right after you do. "every party i went to, i looked for you even though i knew you wouldn't be there. you know johnny tried setting me up with people?"

you try to suppress the little sting, but you feel it deep inside you. "he did?", you have to clear your throat, and you almost don't want to ask but you do anyway. he releases a sad little chuckle and nods, toying with his fingers. "yeah. i knew i was doomed when the whole date, i wished she was you."

the smile finds its way on to your face against your will, feeling that familiar lump make its way to your throat. "she could've made you happy, jae", you argue anyway because at the end of the day, you want the best for him, and you know you're far from the best.

"no one could make me feel the way you do, y/n", he replied honestly, and there's a sense of finality to his words, like he'd had this same argument with himself time and time again, only to come to this conclusion. “the thought of anyone else touching you made me sick”, he croaked, not missing the way his eyes ghost over your frame.

his words bring about a noticeable shift in the air, followed by silence. he watches you, and you watch him, breathing slow as your eyes dart across his face.”i don’t want anyone but you”, you confess slowly, and a few beats pass before you find it in you to speak again. "i love you, jaehyun."

silence.

you expected disapproval, maybe even a malicious scoff, but you certainly weren't expecting to feel a soft pair of lips against yours as he suddenly lurches forward.

you're stunned, so stunned that you don't even reciprocate the kiss, lips unmoving against his. it's only when he takes this as a sign of discomfort and breaks the kiss that you find yourself reacting, hands immediately making their way to caress his cheeks, leaning forward to chase his lips and close the distance between you. he lets out a sound of surprise against your lips but kisses you back right away, a hand wrapping around your neck from the back, tangling itself in your hair. the kiss is heated and so long overdue, tangible through the way his lips meld furiously together with yours, teeth clashing every now and then.

your hands make their way to his broad shoulders, one wrapping around them while the other comes to rest on his chest, gripping the material of his hoodie. you have the urge to be impossibly close to him, trying to lean forward to kiss him more fully but you're restricted by your seatbelt. it's almost as if he can read your mind, because the hand placed against your face now moves to press on the buckle to release you without breaking the kiss. "fucking seatbelt...", he mumbles disgruntedly against your lips, fiddling with the button until you hear it click, finally separating yourself from him to slip it over you. "there we go."

you don't stay separated for long because jaehyun uses the hand behind your head to pull you towards him again, capturing your lips in a way that makes all the air leave your lungs. "come here", he grunts, using his long arms to pull you clumsily over the gearshift and straight on to his lap. you settle yourself in to the somewhat awkward position in the enclosed space, but that's the last thing on your mind when all your thoughts consist of jaehyun, jaehyun, jaehyun. his lips are back on yours in a instance, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip messily and you gladly allow it to explore your mouth.

the air is impossibly thick, heavily contrasting to the cold weather outside the car, even his lips and hands feel warm against your hot body. you feel his hands grip your waist easily in this position, lips leaving your own to drag across the expanse of your jaw. you whine quietly at the feeling of his mouth sucking a particular spot on your neck, tilting your head back as you wrap your arms around his neck. "missed this", he muses, tongue peeking out to kitten lick at your neck, breath hot against your sensitive skin. "missed you."

the feeling in your chest when his hands find their way under your shirt and on to your bare skin is inexplicable, unable to stop the soft moan from tumbling from your lips when his big hands glide over your stomach, back and finally your breasts. everything about the way he's touching you and kissing you is greedy and urgent, like he's afraid you'll disappear from his arms if he loosens his grip even by a little bit. you'd be a fool to not match this energy, pressing into him while you squeeze your hands over his. "need you so bad, jae."

you're subconsciously grinding down against him needily, hips stuttering against his lap like you've never been touched before. "fuck", your eyes widen at the groan that leaves his throat, sounding absolutely guttural as he grips the skin of your hip harshly.

he's barely done anything and you're coming undone right in front of his watchful eyes, your panties dampening at the look on his face. "jae..", you whine when his fingers dip past the waistband of your pants, gently cupping your clothed core as you rut against it. "shit, baby", he marvels at the stickiness of your panties, feeling your wetness on his fingers just through the material. "you really missed me, huh?"

you don't even have the time to respond to his cocky remark before his fingers are slipping beneath the band of your panties to circle your clit, spreading the wetness around your folds. a breathy sigh escapes your lips, throwing your head back as he experimentally prods at your entrance and eventually slips a finger inside. "still so tight for me", he all but groans, pumping his finger in and out of you languidly, drinking in the sounds of your pleasure. he feels so blissfully familiar, and though you haven't been touched by him, or anyone for that matter for months, the stretch of his second finger feels the same kind of intimate as it did before, if not more.

you lean forward and press your lips against his once again, kissing him like you might never get the chance to again, all while you're grinding back down on his hand that's fingering you steadily with a thumb circling your clit at the same time. his free hand moves to bunch your top up above your breasts, peppering kisses over the tops of them. he wastes no time in pulling your breasts free from from their cups, attaching his lips to one nipple and swirling his tongue around it in a way that makes you cry out. "my pretty girl", he mumbles almost to himself while cupping your other breast, making a show out of it as his tongue flicks over your hardened bud over and over until your arching your back and pressing it further into his face. “thought about this all the time.”

keeping in mind that you're still technically in a public place, you bite your lip to contain the sounds of your pleasure, though jaehyun doesn't make it easy when he notices this and increases the pace of his fingers. the hand fondling your breast leaves it unattended for a moment to release your bottom lip from your teeth, smoothing his thumb over the swollen skin. "i've waited months to hear these sounds. let me hear you, baby", he all but purrs and that's all it takes for a moan to tumble out of your mouth, pressing your forehead against the side of his face while you screw your eyes shut out of pleasure.

with his attack on your sensitive buds and his fingers pistoning inside of you, you know you aren't going to last long. "already?", jaehyun chides with a small smirk, and it's embarrassing how well he knows your body, grazing his teeth against your nipple in a way that feels painful and heavenly at the same time. you can feel his rock hard bulge against you, and with the untimely grinding of your hips against him, you're sure this is torturous for him. "don't wanna come like this", you whine against his cheek, your entire body feeling sticky from the heat inside the closed vehicle. your puckered lips leave wet kisses all over the expanse of his cheek, and the boyish giggle that leaves his mouth makes your heart flutter. "wanna feel you, jae."

his head is thrown back against the headrest and his eyes are shut tightly, jaw clenched as he slowly slips his fingers out of you. though you whine at the loss of contact and you're almost grinding against the air, you want nothing more than to make him feel good as well. "want you to fill me up", you coo at him, softly linking your hands behind his neck as you test the waters with your words. it's clear they have an effect on him, both hands placed on your hips as he helps you lazily grind against his erection. "don't– have a condom", he grits out, hips bucking up to meet yours. "don't need one", you murmured immediately, knowing he wants this as bad as you do.

his eyes flicker open at that, one hand leaving your hip to brush some stray hairs away from your face, gently tucking some behind your ear. you could melt at the way he's looking at you, so tender and loving, a warmth spreading all over you until you feel like you have to look away. he doesn't let you however, hand quickly coming you to cup your cheek before leaning in place a small peck against your lips. "are you sure?", he sounds breathless, but still firm as his eyes glance between yours like he's reading them.

if he can read them, he'll know that you can't nod fast enough, dragging your hips across his needily to show him. "i'm sure. i want you, jae.", you're so needy that you don't even bother to take your pants or panties off fully, fingers fumbling with the waistband as you shimmy them down a little, leaving your underwear on. you swear your mouth waters when he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring out against his stomach, lustful eyes taking in the way he keeps his shirt up with his teeth. if this weren't such an awkward position, you'd have taken him in your mouth in an instant, knowing exactly what to do to hear the man in front of you whimper.

nudging your panties to the side, he focuses on collecting your wetness all over the tip of his dick, hissing at the contact. "please", you whine, not wanting to waste another moment, finally sighing in relief when he begins to press his cock inside you. he swears under his breath at the feeling, and you're feeling so stretched out just from him slipping it in even though you're still so wet that you just go lax in his arms until he bottoms out. "that's it", he grunts like he's holding back. "taking me so well, angel."

you preen at his praise, finally beginning to move your hips a little at his coaxing. sighing against the shell of his ear, he picks up the pace for you, not warning you before thrusting upwards to meet your movements with a groan. you can feel your mind going blank at the sensation, your moans sounding more like cries whenever he snaps his hips into yours, the obscene sounds filling the car. you're just so full, his hands gliding up and down your sides as he fucks deep inside you, making up for all the lost time. "you feel so good, baby", he barely gets his words out, but it gives you the encouragement to bounce up and down on his thick cock a little faster than before, his eyes widening at the feeling. "just like that."

he's kissing and sucking all over your neck again, lips ghosting over whatever skin he can reach and it's all so much, feeling a single tear stream down your face. he almost slows down for a second when he feels the tear drop on to his own face, eyebrows raised in surprise because he thinks he's hurting you, but he's even more shocked when you let out the high-pitched whine. "what's wrong, angel?", he mumbles into your neck, peering up at you carefully. you shake your head profusely, continuing to grind down on his cock. "i just- just love you so much, jae", you blabber incoherently, so wet that you're practically gushing around his dick.

"aw, baby", he shushes you sweetly, pressing his forehead against yours as his thrusts become more and more erratic. "i'm here. not going anywhere." the coil in your stomach is tightening and you can feel every inch of him inside you, more tears threatening to spill from your eyes before he's kissing them away. "i'm here."

he's hitting all the right spots inside you in this position, and he's basically doing all the work because you're like putty in his strong arms, all you can do is moan and cry out against him weakly. "i'm close", you warn him, but you know he already knows that, and you know he is too, slipping your hand down to where his rests on your hip and interlacing your fingers. "me too, pretty", he sputters through his teeth, giving your hand a tight squeeze as you start to come undone. “want you to cum. can you do that for me?”

"oh my god", you're crying out as you cum around his cock, body and mind going numb and ears ringing as the coil finally snaps. "cum inside me, jae, please", his eyes go wide at the way you're begging him, and he doesn't look like he can hold back much longer. "fuck angel, you- you sure–"

"yes, please, need you to fill me up", you cut him off, too sensitive from the way he's helping you ride out your high to move anymore. with a few more sloppy thrusts, his cock is twitching inside you before you lets out a guttural groan, his warm cum filling you up. you go limp against him, face nuzzled into the crook of his neck as the both of you try to regulate your heartbeats.

the sounds of your heavy breathing fills up the car along with jaehyun's soft murmurs of "so perfect" and "did so well for me". any doubts you had in your mind of this being a mistake in jaehyun's eyes are wiped away when he begins petting your head, gently smoothing your messy hair as he presses firm kisses to your head. his cock softens inside of you but he makes no move to pull out, wrapping his arms around your waist while you do the same around his neck, simply sitting in each other's presence silently.

you struggle but finally pick yourself up, gazing at his moonlit face from your place on his lap. “you okay? was that okay?”, he murmurs softly, his voice thick and eyes hazy as he traces little shapes on your back. “more than okay”, you reply tiredly, pressing your lips against his once again because you feel you’re in a dream-like state right now. you're sure he's the most beautiful man you're ever had the privilege of looking at, feeling incredibly vulnerable when you speak again even though he's looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes. "now what?", you question, suddenly feeling like you've jumped the gun when he opens his mouth to say something but stays silent. "never mind, don't answer that, we'll talk about it later", you shake your head, laughing a little breathlessly when he grins at you, pecking his forehead sweetly.

you look away from him and at your lifeless house, mouth working faster than your brain once again. "would you...want to come in?", you wince, feeling kind of stupid for asking but meaning it anyway. you're both comforted and thrilled when a large grin is plastered on to his face, feeling like maybe your home won't be as lifeless anymore.

"i think i'd love to come in."

[aakeysmash]

I think modernday!Sukuna would possibly be a mechanic. He works in silence, he really doesn’t like people talking to him and he knows his stuff. No client has been able to say his work isn’t good, but they do say that he’s scary and scowling all the time.

Sometimes when you’re on vacation you visit him at work, your reading glasses still on your head and your book under your arm. He stops whatever he’s doing when he senses your presence, turning around and waiting on you to walk toward him. He gets out of the car he’s working on and tries to clean his hands with a rug, but they’re too oily. He hates not being able to touch you, but he’d hate himself even more if he got dirt on your pretty face or your pretty summer dress.

You get on your tippy toes and kiss him on the lips, and he mumbles a sorry because he knows that he’s been sweating his balls off and his top lip is wet.

“Brought you water, babe,” you tell him, looking up at him. He grunts in response, but you know he’s grateful.

“Shouldn’t you be at home, woman? You’ll get dirty,” he says with his deep voice. You can hear he’s not been talking since he left your house this morning. He smells like gasoline and tobacco, probably from the cigarette he smoked half an hour ago. You told him he shouldn’t smoke and work with gas at the same time, but he’s a stubborn asshole. He says he’d burn the fire before the fire could burn him.

“I missed you, big boy,” you answer. He tsks and rolls his eyes. You’re so dramatic.

He might look inapproachable, but when he’s out of the shower back at yours in the evening he’s much more relaxed.

“Y’know, if I didn’t find you sexy as fuck with those flowy dresses, I’d fuck you each time you come visit me,” he whispers in your ear, chest pressed tightly against your back.

You turn around and put your arms around his neck. You’re about to say a snarky remark but he’s already groping your ass with one of his strong expert hands, the other hand pressed between your shoulder blades to keep you close and tongue down your throat.

“Cars ain’t the only things I can ride, baby,” he says smirking.

[hiraethwrote]

THE HEART GROWS FONDER

pairing : kento nanami x f!reader summary : (requested) — kento nanami loved you before he even knew you, and his feelings were the one thing he never questioned. like pieces of a puzzle, you fit together. whatever happens, your feelings never waver. cw : childhood friends to lovers, reader is v emotional, canon events/jjk0 spoilers, mentions of character death, mutual and intense pining, miscommunication lack of communication, mild one-bed-trope?, platonic!satoru (bc apparently i am unable to write anything without mentioning him), light profanity, pet names, talk of wedding, sweet fluff, a good chunk of angst, slight jealousy, no use of y/n word count : 10.1 k

Kento was a knowledgeable man.

He knew how long it took to get from one place in Tokyo to another, no matter what time of day it was. Well aware of all the best routes for traveling the city most efficiently, even during rush hours.

He knew all the ways to make the most money. Not what he was proudest of, but working hard had garnered him a set of useful skills that made him a good employee, a real asset to the company.

He knew how to read a map, a skill long forgotten by most in this day and age. Should he ever find himself in a situation where there was no reception, he would be able to get his hands on a sheet displaying the nearby areas and figure out how to return to civilisation.

He knew how to best take care of his body. He had done extensive research to make sure he moved his body correctly during workouts to not harm himself. He wasn’t interested in aching joints when he was old and gray.

And he knew he loved you — since the very first moment his eyes landed on you all those years ago.

He remembered the exact moment in excruciating detail as well, like how he had turned a little scared at the unfamiliar sensation of a racing heartbeat. When pressing his hand to his chest, he felt the rapid thumping. He quickly realised it was caused by the sight of you when it happened every time he spotted you.

His dad would tease him whenever he caught Kento sitting in the windowsill, chubby cheeks resting on his forearms as he gazed lovingly towards the little girl playing in her front yard a few houses down. “I’m sure she would love to play with you.” His face would turn bright crimson, a colour that had become all too common in the Nanami household whenever you were brought up, before an embarrassed Kento would stomp up to his room.

He didn’t learn your name until the first day of school — your parents had arranged for the two of you to walk to school together. He had been over the moon when he heard the news, pure excitement filling his body to the point where he could not sit still. But the moment he was stood in front of you, your voice sweet as honey when introducing yourself, his throat dried out and he turned tongue tied. His mom placed a hand on his shoulder, bringing his feet back on the ground, “Kento,” he croaked weakly before disappearing into his jacket.

With small feet carrying you to and from school, you tried to force a conversation out of him but to no prevail. He remained shy and quiet, eventually resulting in a statement that had saddened him more than he could have anticipated; “you don’t talk much, do you?”

There had been no ill intent in your words, but it had Kento distance himself from you. What was supposed to blossom into a friendship (and maybe even more with time), only simmered down to him consistently trialing five steps behind you on the path to school that became all too bleak when it hadn’t turned out how he had imagined it.

His infatuation didn’t seem to disappear anytime soon either. If anything, now having the opportunity to observe you in closer proximity only deepened his feelings. He now got to witness the outgoing and bubbly personality that was wrapped in your cute exterior, exceeding all his expectations of what he had imagined you would be like — fascinated by how you seemed to excel in aspects where he lacked.

And the more time that passed, it seemed the day he would find the courage to catch up and walk along side you traveled further out of his reach.

He continued to admire from afar, watching as you earned yourselves new friendships as easily as putting your shoes on in the morning. Kento wasn’t the only one drawn to your outgoing personality and charming smile, his heart breaking a little when you formed a tight knit friend group and he didn’t get to be a part of it.

That’s how it went. Kento sort of just blended into the background, never making a number of himself. He was nearly certain no one really knew he even existed at all (except the teachers, who absolutely adored him). Day after day, he sat by himself with a book in his hands, only ever looking up to admire you for a few seconds as you would play with your friends.

However, he preferred the quiet life in school more than what it evolved into as second grade rolled around.

During recess, he would sit with his book, same as always, counting the minutes until school was over so he would walk those five familiar steps behind you — that’s when two third graders had approached him, their intention clear as day.

Their antics continued for two weeks — until what he thought was the voice of an angel interrupted.

“Hi there.”

Kento would recognise that voice anywhere, turning towards the source to see you, huge grin plastered on your face, both hands behind your back as you stared down the two third graders.

“What’s going on here?” You asked in such a sweet and innocent tone, but all three of the boys could see there was something borderline unfriendly in your eyes that was not present in your words.

“Doesn’t concern you,” one of the mean kids bit back.

“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your lips together before shifting to a serious tone. “I think it does, because from over there-“ you pointed in the direction of where you had stood moments earlier, “it looked like you were picking on my friend.”

Friend? Had he heard you right?

Before they could retaliate, you had already opened your mouth again, “I’ll scream! The adults will come and you’ll be in biiiig trouble!” Your tone had been so cheerful, but that same threatening intent lingered in your gaze — a look one did not want to receive from a stubborn, little seven year old.

It seemed like your scare tactic worked, because after grumbling to themselves for a few seconds, they shuffled away with their tails between their legs. And once they were far enough away not to be a bother anymore, you squatted down on the gravel beside Kento, wrapping your arms around your legs.

“You okay, Kento?” Completely transformed, not a hint of your malice present any longer, just soft and genuine concern when speaking his name.

He blinked a few times, using the back of his hand to dry the few tears that had watered up in the corner of his eyes before he answered you. “‘M fine,” he sniffled, then daring to look you in the eyes to mutter a shy “thank you.”

“Anytime.”

You couldn’t explain why you had decided to interfere — because labelling Kento a friend wasn’t entirely true. The boy had barely said a word to you for the year you had known him, but you had just been filled with anger when you witnessed the older kids choose to pick on him. He did not have a mean bone in his body. And maybe somewhere along the line, you had gained a soft spot for the reserved kid, having not been able to stop glancing over your shoulder from time to time when you walked to and from school, just to make sure he was still there.

Never had Kento imagined that the taunting from his upperclassman would be his biggest blessing to date. He no longer sat alone during lunch, but instead accepted your invite to eat with you and your little clique.

And finally your friendship with Kento had the opportunity to grow.

Thanks to you, school had become a lot more enjoyable for him after that. The walks to and from school was no longer spent with an awkward distance, now matching your pace as you both indulged in small talk from the moment you left school until he left you at your door.

He knew he should have been satisfied, and in one way he was. He was finally allowed to call you his friend after all, but during school hours, you usually hung out the entire group. And on your spare time, you had a tendency to reserve your time just for the girls. So while he wished for more, he continued to shoot longing, and not so subtle, gazes across the table.

It abruptly changed when you were thirteen, walking home from school like any other day, when your blunt question had cut through the conversation.

“Hey, you want to go to the movies with me?”

“What?” Kento’s thirteen year old brain had not been able to comprehend the question, stopping dead in his tracks to stare at you with big eyes, swallowing the massive lump in his throat. Had you just asked him on a date?

You stopped when you noticed he did, staring right back at him like this wasn’t a big deal. “None of the girls were interested, and you’re the only boy in our group I can tolerate without any of the girls,” you rolled your eyes. You had turned a little feisty when entering your teens.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, drawing his lips into an awkward line, hoping he could play it off as a smile.

Your deadpanned expression immediately twisted into one of pure joy. “Great!”

Kento had stood in front of his mirror all afternoon, using both his hands to smoothen the crinkles of his shirt, treating it very much like a date. He didn’t even realise how long he had been stressing in his room until his mom came knocking, telling him you were waiting outside.

He had been a little disappointed when he saw you, because it became very evident you did not consider it a date. Wearing the same outfit you had worn to school that day, resting on the handlebars of your bike. “C’mon, we need to get popcorn before the movie starts,” you nagged, just the tiniest bit annoyed.

When stood in the kiosk, he had offered to pay for the popcorn, like the good, little gentleman he had been raised to be. “Oh, no need. Mom gave me money to pay for it,” you said cheerfully with a shrug and a smile. “Thanks, though.”

The movie couldn’t hold Kento’s attention, even if he wanted to, because for the whole ninety minutes you had your knee rested against his. The sensation of the shy touch of your leg had his heart beat so loud against his ribcage, he was scared you might turn to him and tell it to shush so you could hear the movie.

It wasn’t much, but the pressing feeling was definitely prominent enough that you had to be aware of it too. And in his mind, it seemed only logical you kept your leg still against his because you wanted it to touch him. But whenever he flickered his eyes over to you, you seemed utterly unbothered, attention fixated on the screen as your hand continued to grab popcorn from the bucket.

He tried to keep his breath even, letting his tension spill out by clenching and unclenching his fists. He was so determined to sit completely still, scared the tiniest flinch would cause you to shift your leg away from him.

Trips to the movies, just in each other’s company, became a regular occurrence after that. And about half of the time, you let him pay… only because you paid the other half, but he let himself wallow in the idea that he was treating you for the evening.

He was in high school when one of your friends had asked about it. “What’s really going on there, Kento?”

He had immediately decided to play dumb. Not because he was embarrassed, but if there was even the slightest chance it would feed them material they could use to make you uncomfortable, he wanted to avoid it. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, man,” he laughed mockingly. “You and her,” nodding towards where you stood with your girlfriends in the cafeteria line. “The two of you hang out with each other more than us these days.”

“I don’t know, we’re friends?” Kento shrugged, almost certain he was able to play it off as casual.

“Friends? Right, friends who constantly go on movie dates together.”

“They’re not dates,” was all he had been able to say to defend himself, feeling his cheeks grow hot like they had done when he was younger.

They had all chucked at him then. “Yeah, whatever man. Congratulations bagging the prettiest girl in school,” was the last thing that was said before you and the rest of the girls joined their table. You sat down beside Kento, like always.

Carefully, you had nudged his arm to get his attention. “You okay?” You asked quietly so only he could hear.

He gave you a weak but genuine smile. “Yes, just lost in thought is all.” You smiled back at him, making his heart skip a beat.

You don’t remember when it changed for you. If it had been a gradual thing, or if you had just woken up one day with this feeling — but something was definitely different.

The realisation had hit you mid sentence. Rambling on about some meaningless topic, like you always did, and suddenly you noticed the way he was looking at you.

He was listening so intently, not missing a single word coming from your mouth, a faint smile stamped at the corner of his lips and a tenderness in his eyes you hadn’t really noticed before. You only managed to snap out of it when he spoke your name.

“Am I losing you by not talking?” He teased before taking a sip out of his coffee.

“Shit,” you muttered, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “I just remembered this group assignment I have due tomorrow.” A lie — and an obvious one at that. But Kento didn’t get a moment to ask any follow-up questions before you had gathered your stuff and rushed to say goodbye, leaving him alone in the cafe.

For the entire walk home, you thought about Kento, now suddenly in a new light, reflecting over the entirety of your friendship.

You became aware of how he always seemed to prioritise you in the group without hesitation. You had just brushed it off, assuming he felt indebted to you for coming to his rescue when you were seven. But you realised now how ridiculous that sounded.

You thought of all the times he had come running when you had asked for him. Whether it was after a fight with one of your girlfriends, or a date that had gone horribly wrong, he dropped everything to be by your side.

You realised now why you always caught yourself answering with a frown when girls came to ask you about him. As you had gotten older, he had definitely grown into his looks, a subtle kind of handsome that snuck up on you.

When you got home, you had pulled out your phone to send a text to apologise for bailing so abruptly. But you typed and deleted the message twenty times over, anxiety you had never felt about him before overwhelming you. In the end, you ended up not sending anything at all, feeling like no words sufficed.

And the next time you met, you acted as if nothing had happened, and he just went along with it.

You tried desperately to act as if nothing had changed, beyond terrified you would scare him off or make him uncomfortable if he picked up on your new and revolutionary feelings for him. If there was one thing you were absolute certain about, it was that you would never do anything to jeopardise the friendship you had with him. There was no competition of what person in your life you cherished the most; Kento Nanami. You’d be the earth's biggest fool to gamble that away for anything.

When you were 16, you nearly caved.

In your desperate attempt of keeping things normal, you had continued your meaningless escapades — which meant going on terrible dates with even more terrible guys — turns out teenage boys are just assholes by default.

“It’s their loss,” Kento cooed in a warm tone, sitting beside you on your bed with a comforting arm around your shoulders.

In all honesty, you didn’t even care all that much about the date. You couldn’t even remember the guy’s name. No, your mind was way more interested in how his strong hand cupped your arm so perfectly.

You turned to look at him, faces closer than ever before. He happily held your gaze — you were just hoping he was able to read the messages it conveyed.

Tell me to stop seeing these guys, and I’ll stop.

Tell me you want me the way I want you.

Tell me it’s you I’m meant to be with.

“You’ll find someone worthy of you eventually.”

Your heart sunk, having built up your own expectations based on how his eyes had roamed your face as if he truly desired you. Maybe this was all in your head.

It wasn’t.

But Kento, much like you, didn’t want to lose you over anything. Confessing risked the relationship he already had with you. He would rather have you as a friend, than not have you in his life at all.

Not long after that, you both joined Jujutsu tech. Slowly but surely, you slipped away from your childhood group — him more than you. You tried your very best to stay in touch, though your new schedule made that hard.

With these new threats looming around you, neither of you could help how your friendship — or whatever you would call what was going on between you — continued to grow deeper. More serious. It went unsaid by the both of you, but there was just a mutual understanding that it was the logical development when there was the slightest possibility of it ending all too soon.

Still neither of you confessed.

You fell into routines, so accustomed to seeing him every minute of every day, your first instinct when returning from a mission was to find him.

As expected, Kento heard the three soft knocks he knew all too well at this point, before you squeezed through his door. With a deep exhale, you fell back on his bed, while he sat in his desk chair, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m exhausted.”

“Did you just get back?” His muscles were a little tense, like they always where whenever you had to go on a mission without him, his eyes searching every inch of you to see if there were any visible injuries he had to worry about.

“Little over an hour ago. Had to escape Gojo talking my ear off about his own mission.”

Kento observed how the corner of your lips tugged upwards in a tired smile, your chest vibrating with a soft chuckle.

He was always happy to see you come back unharmed, but he hated the exhaustion that rested in your joints — and it filled him with an unexplainable urge to help you somehow.

He imagined guiding you to lay on your stomach, placing his legs on each side of you and slowly soothing your muscles, rubbing caring motions along the curves of your body to fill it with the relaxation you deserved — but he couldn’t. It would definitely cross a line, too intimate for just friends.

“Glad you’re back,” he said almost in a whisper.

“Me too.” He could barely hear you, the mission slowly catching up with your energy as well, sensing on your breathing that you weren’t too far from falling asleep.

The silence that surrounded you was comfortable. You had grown so accustomed to each other’s presence, any awkwardness had ceased to exist. Nevertheless, Kento didn’t quite know what to do with himself, just looking at you sprawled out on his bed, a scene he would like to see every night.

“Kento?” Your voice was so soft.

“Yes?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

He heard the slight hesitation in your voice before you expressed your request. Raising up his neck and face was a burning heat, his breathing coming out shallow as he didn’t quite know what to say.

Being a cautious man, he thought of every possible outcome.

It was prohibited, so he should decline. But he would hate himself forever if he simply sent you away because of the school’s outdated rules — he also knew he would regret it until his heart stopped beating.

So having you stay here was the only reasonable outcome — but then what? He supposed he would end up sleeping on the floor, like the gentleman he was. He would at least never assume he could sleep next to you, and he would not be as vulgar to ask.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Of course. I’ll just-“

“Kento,” you said his name again, just as soft as always.

“Yeah?”

“There’s room for both of us on the bed.”

He had to swallow the massive lump that felt as if it was suffocating him. It at least stopped any further words to come out of his mouth. He slowly raised from the chair, floorboards creaking as he stepped over.

With his eyes locked on you, seemingly so calm with your eyes closed, he positioned himself beside you so he was facing you.

Goosebumps prickled up his arm when he felt your breath fan against his face, and he wondered how you managed to keep it in such an even rhythm. Didn’t this closeness send lightning through your body like it did for him, temptation threatening the act of finally crossing the line?

There was a crease between your eyebrows that seemed unintentional, like the events of the day had just planted themselves on your face and even your calm breathing couldn’t ease it. Against his better judgment, Kento’s urges steered his thumb towards your face, not reflecting over his action before he had ran his skin across the crinkle to smoothen the tension.

Shit, he thought to himself, certain you would open your mouth to tell him off — instead he saw how there had been a slight strain to your shoulders that was now released.

While he let his eyes roam your face, taking in every breathtaking aspect of your beauty, he felt a small spark of fear fill him at how right it all felt — lying next to you, so close he could feel the warmth radiate from your skin, his soft touch being able to bring rest to your body, the mere idea that he could envelop you in his arms if he wanted to.

“I’m happy you’re here with me,” your voice startled him a little, as he had assumed you had already fallen into the oblivion of sleep. “I’d never be able to navigate this world without you.”

“That’s not true.” Your eyes opened to meet his, catching his breath immediately, so stunningly deep he always felt himself fall into them. “You’ve always been the one looking out for me.”

You chuckled a little at that, endless memories of the two of you throughout childhood. “I guess in one way. But you’ve always kept me afloat.”

“You give yourself too little credit.” He had to stop himself from letting his fingers graze your cheek in the most tender caress. “You would have done just fine on your own.”

A small smile of flattery dared dance on your lips. “But I don’t want to.” It felt like a confession, unspoken feelings hidden within those words, begging for him to be able to deduce the true meaning. “Thinking of a life where you’re not at my side scares me.”

“Let’s never find out what that life is like.”

Kento would later eat those words.

Haibara’s death hit Kento the hardest. Numerous evenings were spent in the eerie silence of his cold dorm. When he cried, you held him. When he was trying to distract himself by reading, you sat and watched him, keeping him company. When he went the entire night without sparing you the slightest gaze, you knew you had overstayed your welcome, leaving him to be alone for a night.

“I don’t think I will continue to be a sorcerer.”

That was the first thing he said that hadn’t been a complete necessity, and it sent a spike of ice down your spine, not daring to understand his statement right away.

“Oh,” was the only thing you could think of to respond that did not entertain his idea.

His eyes met yours, the eye contact more intense than it had been for days, realising just how much you had missed having his kind eyes directed at you. Seemed like he felt it too, as the smallest gasp slipped out of him.

“I mean it.”

The tears instantly burned in your eyes, blinking them away before they had the chance to come running. “That's what scares me,” your voice betrayed you as the usual confidence came out cracked.

He didn’t push it any further, reading you as an open book — you knew he was telling the truth, but refused to acknowledge it. It was like if you ignored his statement, it would somehow end differently.

Luckily, after that night, Kento started to somewhat fall back to his old self. His smile started to return, it was easier to hold a conversation with him, which you obviously appreciated — however, he had planted a fear in you that had taken your body hostage.

You abandoned any sense of boundaries entirely, hanging onto his arm at all times. It was only when you were physically aware of his frame you were able to cling onto a string of peace. Feeling his body glued at your side only served as a confirmation that he was still here, and as long as you held on he couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t leave.

And whenever you had to pry yourself off of him to tend to your responsibilities where he wasn’t assigned, you were constantly living in a state of anxiety. Foot tapping against the floor, picking at your skin, petrified you would end up returning to see his room stripped of any signs of life — that he would have finally done the thing he said he would do, and part with the Jujutsu world.

Every time you returned, the sweetest sensation of relief washed over you, tears welling up immediately when he always stood ready to greet you. “Hey you,” he said softly, pulling you into his arms, holding you tight until he could physically feel your body let go of the stress that had tainted every muscle, every joint, for the entire time you had been separated.

But graduation day came and time was up.

You had held onto hope he would eventually change his mind, that it was only the initial grief that had weighed heavy on his conscience. But you were now standing in his bare room, everything packed into cardboard boxes. Of course it had only been a childish dream to think he would stay — there was no changing his mind.

“I really am sorry.” He was so earnest, like always, making it hard to be mad at him even though you so desperately wanted to. He genuinely had so much compassion, his hands stroking your arms in an attempt to calm the bouncing of your shoulders that followed the frantic rhythm of your sobs.

“I just don’t understand why?” You continued to sob, sentence coming out in sad intervals as you heaved for air.

“This isn’t right. It’s not right of them to expect us to be okay with watching our partners lay down their lives like this.”

You wanted so badly to scream at him, bang your fists against his chest before clasping onto his shirt so he wouldn’t even have the opportunity to leave. You knew it was unwarranted for you to feel that way, but the fact that he was following through with his stunt felt like a betrayal.

“You said we weren’t going to find out what this would be like.”

His heart shattered. Looking into your doe eyes, tainted red with sorrow as the sentence laced with innocence sent him back to every fragile evening throughout your journey together he had spent comforting you. How many tears he had dried, happily so? But this time it was his doing — him who brought you to a state of despair so grave you couldn’t breathe, and he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to comfort you.

Waiting for his next words were torture, time at a standstill watching his mouth open and close while he constructed the sentence in his mind. Though useless, the glimmer of hope refused to die out, begging for his surrender — you’re right, I’ll stay.

“I’m sorry.”

Another one of your earth shattering sobs came flying past your lips, stabbing him right in the heart that had only ever beaten for you.

Comforting you would always be second nature to him, which had his hands cup your face and pulling it closer to rest his forehead against yours. He wished, begged, for his touch to bring you comfort one last time before he left. But your body continued to shake. “It’ll be okay,” he tried to reassure you, spoken in a faint whisper. Repeating it over and over, waiting for his small affirmations to take affect — they never did.

Ask me to come with you.

Those six words played like a broken record in your mind, knowing you would pack your bags and abandon this god forsaken life at the drop of a hat if he just asked you to.

Come with me.

The request laid restless at the tip of his tongue, fighting every voice in him that was screaming at him to be selfish. But he couldn’t with you, never with you.

Unlike him, you had a purpose in this world — you were able to see the good in what you did, and he would never be able to forgive himself if he ripped you away from it no matter how much he wanted to.

There seemed like there was no limit to your tears. Shuddering against his touch, he sensed your body didn’t have much energy left to stand. He ended up leading the two of you to his bed, stripped bare to just the mattress, duvet folded at the end. Without any words spoken, you laid down in his arms, burying your face in his chest while the sobs continued to tumble out uncontrollably.

His strong arms locked around you, holding you as close to him as humanly possible, letting the illusion of him never disappearing from you live on for another night.

Eventually your sobs calmed down, only happening sporadically. The shaking stopped and he felt your breathing even out, telling him you had finally been able to let sleep consume you.

He couldn’t stop himself — placing a chaste kiss at the crown of your head, mumbling quiet and secret apologies before sleep caught him too.

According to Gojo, his departure had been quick. He hadn’t said much, just given them all a nod before grabbing his bags and disappearing.

You had decided against seeing him off. The two of you had said your goodbyes the night before in the solemn of his empty dorm. It had been wet, heartbreaking and nothing short of painful, but at least it had been private between the two of you. No one knew how your tears had soaked his shirt, or how your fists had created crinkles in the fabric while desperately holding onto him. No one knew how you had cried until the exhaustion knocked you out in his arms, so scared to wake up to face the new reality where Kento wasn’t at your immediate side like he had been since you were kids.

You couldn’t really remember what it was like to not have him there. Even before you had grown close, he had always lingered, the one thing in your life that had stayed consistent throughout it all was him.

The next weeks were absolutely torture, having to feed the people surrounding you endless lies of “I’m fine, really.” You were really just trying to prevent yourself from letting the reality set in properly. If that can of worms were to open again, you had no clue when or how you would be able to stop it. Last time you had still been able to seek some comfort against his warmth, only able to stop it because you practically passed out.

Not a single moment passed where he didn’t cross your mind, small things reminding you of him. All your little routines — for days you forgot to grab lunch because you were so used to him bringing it to you. For days you ended up with one towel too many, because you always brought an extra for him after training. Mundane things you had always taken for granted, gone in an instant.

Despite feeling a little betrayed, you couldn’t really blame him either. So you reached deep within yourself to try and stay positive. It wasn’t like he was gone gone, he had just retreated to a normal life.

You stayed in touch, sending regular updates about how you were getting by in the world of curses without him — lying of course. When he had left, he had taken some of the purpose you had in it all with him. But you didn’t want him to worry. You told him how you eventually started teaching at Jujutsu High alongside Gojo, and it felt nice to be responsible for the next generation of sorcerers.

And at first you received regular updates in return. He got himself a quaint little apartment that fitted his needs perfectly. You even got a few blurry photos of how he had tried to decorate it so it would feel more homely — you had cried when you received those.

You never called each other though. It seemed like there was a mutual understanding that it would be too unbearable to hear the voice of the other.

After a while, the updates slowly came to a halt. You kept on sending yours however, only for that little checkmark to appear and confirm he had read it. But no answer — you cried then too.

Had you said something or done something to make him cut the contact? You never managed to wrap your head around why he stopped showing you his new life.

Kento had never wanted to stop sending the messages — on the contrary. If anything, he had to stop himself from not telling you about every single minute of his day, even the most meaningless things, just as an excuse to talk to you.

But one day, thanks to a white haired little birdie, all consuming guilt had struck him. “She doesn’t say it, but she’s miserable.”

He held his breath, his fingers unintentionally clenching tighter around his phone. “She is?” His voice came out faint. He heard Gojo let out a deep sigh at the other end of the line.

“She tries. Very hard. I stopped asking a long time ago because she kept lying anyways.”

“Oh.” Kento had been a fool, believing your words when he had read them on his screen. When he hadn’t been able to hear the tone behind the statements, he had been able to convince himself they were genuine. But of course you were lying — he was, after all.

“But I think she really enjoys teaching,” Gojo said after a moment of sad silence, trying to fill the conversation with some optimism. “And the kids love her.”

“Yes, I can imagine as much,” a small smile appearing on his lips, picturing the scene of you with the young students.

“Look, I have to run, she’s waving me over. Should I-“

“No!” Kento rushed to cut him off. “No, don’t say anything. Please.”

He made up his mind then and there — he was not going to cause you any more pain. So he had to let you go entirely to allow you to move on. The way he was selfishly clinging onto the crumps you gave him seemed to do you no good, if the image Gojo painted was accurate.

So he stopped. Even though his fingers urged to reach out, he fought against it, for you.

You, however, could not hinder how your finger pressed the send button every now and then. The updates definitely became less frequent when he went radio silent, but you did not have the strength to stop. If you stopped… there was a fear he would never come back.

Kento was supposed to share his life with you.

He had believed so ever since he was a little kid, ogling you from afar before he even knew your name. The way you made his heart jump and pulse quicken had to be his body’s way of telling him you were meant to be with him, quickly growing addicted, dependent, on the reactions you created in him without trying.

But he had made the drastic choice of abandoning that feeling, convinced the alternative did you harm — and the mere concept of being the reason you even felt the faintest glimmer of discomfort was something he could not live with.

He welcomed the misery, a small price to pay for the belief that you were doing better now. He also thought he had good reason to believe that was the case.

The updates you sent him were few and far between these days, but it did paint a picture. You were rarely in the photos, but there was an energy present in the moments eternalised that seemed pleasant and positive. He imagined you had found your role, your place in life where you would get to fulfil your potential. And whether or not he was there was irrelevant.

He convinced himself his own insecurities were a reality to make it easier to bear.

Ever since childhood, you had been the headstrong one. The independent one. The brave one. It always lingered in the back of his mind whenever he just observed you in different scenarios — that it really didn’t matter if he was there or not, forever just an accessory to your life. He even feared he was holding you back somehow.

So it was only reasonable to think time away from him would have provided you with the playing field to develop into the best version of yourself… right?

Years went by and Kento’s pain didn’t ease. He missed you — every single day. And he kept living in that constant state of torture for you, until the fantasy shattered.

It was just another day, nothing out of the ordinary. Kento was going about his drowsy routines of stopping by the same bakery he did every morning before work. However today, he was nearly tackled by two kids, a boy and a girl about the age of six, once he entered the building.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” a grown woman rushed over to apologise as she brought the children back to their little table.

“It’s no problem,” he mumbled monotonously, eyes following them as they scattered back to their seats, where another woman sat.

A wave of nostalgia crashed over him, feeling like he had the privilege of looking back in time. The little boy resembled a young Kento Nanami, his blonde locks neatly styled, chubby, red cheeks and a baby-blue button up shirt — a rather mature attire for a six year old.

And the boy had his eyes glued on his friend, a girl the same age, very evidently the more outgoing out of the two. She was rambling enthusiastically, arms waving all over the place as he told her story down to the smallest detail, exhibiting the same spark you always had.

The boy kept a glare of pure awe as he followed her every word, seen so clearly in his eyes how much he admired her. And Kento knew how this story would continue — that night the boy would lay in his bed, the biggest smile on his face, unable to fall asleep as the day spent with his friend would play on repeat in his mind — much like Kento had spent countless nights when he was young.

It wasn’t until the girl behind the counter called for him he was able to pull his attention away from the all too familiar scene.

So polite, a sweet smile on her face as she served him the same thing he ordered every day. And then she asked how he was sleeping. It fascinated him, how this girl didn’t owe him anything, and had her own worries — like the little curse sat on her shoulder — and still showed concern for him.

He had noticed the curse before, but purposely never done anything about it. It wasn’t a proper threat, and it would be more of a hustle for him to deal with the reactions of ridding her of it than let it be. But now, having the innocent scene a few feet from him remind him of you, he quickly began to consider doing the girl a favour.

You would have exorcised it — without hesitation.

Not just that, you would probably give him crap for not exorcising it immediately. It wouldn't cost him anything to do it, so why wouldn’t he?

“Could you take a step forward, please?” Kento asked politely, the girl a little confused but doing as he said. He had your voice in the back of his mind while he easily exorcised the curse with one swift motion, the strain in her shoulder easing immediately.

“Huh? It’s lighter!” She exclaimed, rolling her arm around at the newfound relief.

“If anything still feels off, please go to the hospital,” he said with a small nod. He grabbed his food and headed for the exit, sparing one last glance at the table where the two kids sat, still deep in the conversation.

His lungs let out a deep, involuntary breath when the realisation dawned on him — he could no longer stay away, caving to his desires.

Maybe enough time had passed for it not to be considered selfish? If you had in fact found your place where you were content and comfortable, and meeting him again would be causal for you?

The questions kept circulating his mind as he pulled out his phone to dial the one person who would be able to set it all up at the blink of an eye.

His whole world stopped when he saw you, and he wondered how he had ever thought it a good idea to leave you — how could he possibly have survived all that time without you?

It was almost painful how his heart was clawing at the inside of his chest, desperate to be with you. It wasn’t until he felt the overwhelming pounding he realised his heart had not beat properly for the years he had spent away — meant to beat in unison with yours. His skin was turning cold as ice and the only way for it to regain its warmth was your touch, your soft embrace.

Kento hadn’t known what to expect when he saw you again, but he had certainly thought he would have more rational and coherent thoughts. Right now, it was all scrambling in his head and the only thing that appeared clearly in his mind was you, framed in the halo of your aura, taking his breath as way just as easily as when he was six.

With his body going numb, he observed you interact with Gojo and two kids he assumed were your students. You looked calm, a small smile decorating the plump line of your lips — it wasn’t as radiant as it used to be. In fact, your entire energy just seemed a little off. Maybe you had just gotten home from a mission, or it has been a hectic day in general.

Truth was not so mundane. You wished it was as simple as a long and tiring day. That would mean you could just jump in bed and sleep it off, ready to face a new day tomorrow.

But the day Kento left the jujutsu society behind, he unintentionally stole your spark with him.

You could never hate him for it though, he didn’t know. He only did what he felt like he needed to do, and you would be a terrible friend to stand in the way of that. But you had no control over how your mind decided to react.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder was something you had always heard growing up, and you had never really understood it — until faced with the situation yourself.

Not a day went by where you didn’t think of Kento. You thought of how his grin always grew slowly when watching you, eventually revealing the shy smile lines across his cheeks. The ghost of his touch, which was always dancing the line of appropriate or not, never leaving your mind. Sometimes you still felt the imprint of his arms around you.

“Don’t you guys listen to him for a second,” you chuckled, the tiniest hint of frustration in your voice. “Gojo doesn’t qualify as a responsible adult.”

His jaw fell to the ground in fake offence, eyebrows narrowing at the innocent laughs spilling from the students. “You were never this mean when we were younger,” he whined, folding his arms across his chest, looking like a stubborn child.

“That’s what you think,” you teased, nudging an elbow into his side. “You should have heard the things we said about you behind closed doors.”

His big hand came piercing through the air, pressing it against your face, gently shoving you away from the conversation. A lighthearted, but genuine, little laugh escaped you. “We don’t want to hear what you and your little boyfriend did in private,” Gojo rolled his eyes, pretending to gag at the made up memories.

Annoying as he was, Gojo had a way to actually make you forget the pain of it all for a few seconds. You would never tell him, obviously, that he managed to put the storm inside your head on hold for a second — he would rub it in your face every chance he got.

“Wait, senpai had a boyfriend when she attended here?” One of the students interjected and suddenly the mood of the conversation shifted. Gojo’s hand fell from your face before he shot you an apologetic smile.

For the most part, it was never a problem whenever Kento was brought up in the company of Gojo and Shoko. Everything was out in the open between the three of you, shared history taking away some of the pain. But whenever it slipped outside your little trio, it quickly became a sore topic.

Mouth opening and closing, trying to find the words to answer without having to give an explanation. Luckily, a painfully familiar voice called your name behind you, instantly sending a shiver down your spine.

All of you turned towards the voice, and you couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp at the beautiful image of your other half standing in front of you after all these years.

Your heart’s instinct steered your body, quickly stepping away from the group and latching your arms around Kento’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He didn’t hesitate to close his strong arms around your frame, fitting right into the slots they used to fill. His familiar scent filled your senses, memories flooding back in an instant.

“Huh, speak of the devil,” Gojo mumbled.

“Him? That was her boyfriend?”

Gojo quickly snapped out of it. “Let’s give them some privacy, shall we,” and started rushing away the nosy teens.

Kento’s grip loosened and you pulled away, but neither of you dared let your hands leave each other. Your own hands ended up cupping his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on you until it hit you he was actually with you again — he let his rest on your waist, feeling the restlessness in him by how strongly his palms were pressing against you.

He was here. He was actually here.

There was a deafening silence filling the space of your office. You could feel it in the tension that both of you wanted to say something, but there was an unspoken pressure of saying the right thing.

So you let your eyes roam him, taking in the differences in his appearance.

He was gorgeous, same subtle handsomeness as he had always possessed, but a new confidence displaying it. Everything about him was more defined, sharp features drawing attention to his face, his muscles filling his shirt in a way they never did before.

“So, you and Gojo seem to work well together,” he swallowed, causing embarrassment to flush your face when he pulled you from your blatant admiring.

“We’ve found a rhythm that works for us, I suppose,” you shrugged.

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, arms flexing as he crossed them in front of him. “That’s good. I’m glad.” His tone of his short statements seemed to imply otherwise.

“He’s surprisingly good at his job,” you laughed, “the kids like him.”

“Who would have thought,” there was a pull of his lips, like he tried to smile but it didn’t succeed entirely.

“Not me, that’s for sure. I don’t know, he just meets them were their at.” You really wanted to stop rambling about Gojo. It was so clearly just a desperate way for you to replace the quiet that plagued you without touching the elephant in the room. “Don’t get me wrong, they find him insufferable, but I think they secretly really like him. Much like the rest of us.”

“Sounds about right.”

You squinted at him, slowly growing somewhat antsy. “You’re not jealous of Gojo, are you?”

Of course you still saw right through him. He, who usually managed to hide his true feelings, would never be able to conceal them from you. And he was jealous, petrified that he had made the biggest mistake of his life and Gojo had ended up taking the place that was supposed to be for him only.

“Is there something to be jealous of?”

“You tell me.”

The tension was thick, nearly suffocating, years of yearning and pining fuelling the energy. The reunion only served as a dangerous spark that threatened to set the fuse ablaze at any second.

Why couldn’t he take the first step? He was the one who had showed up all of a sudden, and he still hadn’t given you any explanation. He owed you that much, right? But he kept letting his restlessness control him, one leg bouncing quietly against the floor, hearing how the cogs in his mind were turning.

“Why are you here?”

Your words were soft, but Kento knew you well enough to know the true feelings that lingered in the question.

“I’m coming back.”

“You’re coming back?” You weren’t able to withhold the bite that was slowly making its way into your tone.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Don’t do that,” your voice threatened to crack. “I don’t want that responsibility.”

He sighed deeply, unfolding his arms to rest his elbows on his spread knees. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry.”

Always so polite. Always acknowledging his faults before they had the opportunity to grow. Always so damn righteous.

“What I meant to say is it looks like you’ve really managed to establish yourself here, and I wouldn’t want to come in and cause any discomfort by intruding what is essentially your space.”

The sound that escaped you next was a mixture between a flat laugh and a scoff, not entirely appreciating the way he was behaving. “Have we been apart so long you can’t talk to me like I’m your best friend?”

That had him look up at you, meeting your eyes instantly. You were sad, visible on your entire demeanour — maybe not to the average person looking, but he saw, still able to read you like an open book.

“Hope not,” he tried to smile, lips formed into a tight line that exposed how nervous he really was. His attention shifted to look at his fists folded together, words resting on his tongue, he just wanted to be sure it came out right. “I’ve missed you.” Silence. “There hasn’t been a day where you haven’t crossed my mind.”

“Sounds familiar.” There was no hiding the flush crawling up his neck and colouring the tips of his ears red at the sound of your confession.

“It was the thought of you that finally convinced me.”

“Why now?”

“Because enough time should have passed for you to thrive without me.”

“If that’s the case, you’ll have to keep waiting.”

You had him gagged, no clue how to respond. For some reason, he had refused to believe you were still hung up on him the way he was. There weren’t any reason for you to hold onto the idea of him — yet you had, for dear life.

Abruptly you stood up from your chair, hands running through your hair in frustration, trying to make sense of his sudden visit.

You stopped in your pacing, back faced him and hands on your hips — then he saw your shoulders begin to shake, followed by stifled sobs. These were the situations he always used to know what to do, moving on autopilot to bring you the comfort you needed.

Did his hands remember how to soothe you? Did his voice still know how to form the right words to say? Did his presence still know how to envelope you until you felt happy again? There was only one way to find out.

Quickly stepping over to you, his hands hovered over your shoulders for a second in fear. He swallowed his selfishness and let them land to settle the bouncing, leaning his head forward to rest it against the back of yours, the smell of your shampoo surrounding him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and it only seemed like his apology opened the valve, no longer able to choke your sobs. Your hands left your hips to cover your face, muffling the sadness tumbling out in one stream.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he continued to mutter, head moving to press it to the side of your face. One hand traveled across your collarbone, the other around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible, determined to hold you there until he was absolutely certain you were okay.

He would stand there the whole night if he needed to.

Slowly but surely, your sobs came to a stop, your trembling eventually easing against his body. But he didn’t loosen his grip, not until he felt you shift in his arms to face him.

Cry painted cheeks, delicate red rim around your eyes, glossy irises that stared right into the deepest parts of him that only you had access to.

Everything started to fall back into place, his big hand cupping your cheek as he stroked your hair out of your face. He let his eyes dart delicately across your face, taking in every single detail.

Then he let his longing get the best of him, thumb graciously tracing your bottom lip turned swollen from when you tried to swallow your sobs.

There was slight hesitation while he leaned forward, never having experienced time moving as slow as you waited for his lips to connect with yours. First, he let his nose brush against yours, testing the waters.

Please.

You felt his breath.

Don’t make me wait any longer.

Sparks.

Soft lips pressed against yours, moving tenderly in unison that sent intense sparks through your body from head to toe. The moment easily surpassed any of the fantasies you’d had of kissing him.

Needy fingers traveled up his broad chest before hooking your arms around his neck, pulling him closer — it still didn’t feel close enough.

Kento poured everything he had always wanted to say into the kiss — and he knew you understood. If he had learned anything from everything you had been through together, it was he could always trust you were able to understand him completely, even without anything being said.

When you pulled away you found yourself breathless. Meeting his eyes again, unexpected shyness you weren’t used to experience with Kento had you hide your face in his chest.

The roles had reversed, his warm chuckle serving as a comforting blanket. Oh, how you had missed that melody.

“Took you long enough,” you mumbled, hoping the teasing would have your normal confidence return.

His finger found your chin to tilt your head up, capturing your gaze. “Yeah, I should have done it ages ago.”

The previous sadness still lingered, and it was evident you still had a lot to talk about. But right now it was nice to just wallow in his presence again. It was way overdue, feeling like it should have been like this since forever.

“I really am sorry.”

“I think I can find it in myself to forgive you.” Your innocent jab was received with a dashing smile, tingles spreading throughout your limbs at the sight.

“Hope so, sweetheart,” he breathed quietly before he leaned in again.

They sat staring at each other, Kento with a raised eyebrow while a grumpy Gojo was positioned on the couch opposite him, legs and arms crossed in annoyance.

“You used to be nice.”

Kento scoffed at his colleague’s childish behaviour. “I still am, you’re just upset you’re not getting it your way.”

“But why?” Gojo cried dramatically.

“Why? What do you mean why? Because it’s not your wedding.”

“Were you always this boring?”

“Most definitely.”

“Will you guys please shut up?” You interrupted, unable to ignore them anymore. You had desperately tried to block them out as you were doing some paperwork you should have done ages ago.

“He started it!” Gojo pointed at Kento, which only had him roll his eyes.

“You know what,” you sighed as you gathered your stuff and raised from behind the desk. “It’s with a heavy heart I leave you, but I need to get this done by the end of the day.” You stopped behind Kento, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, honey,” he said genuinely as he gazed up at you lovingly.

“I am not asking for much-“ Gojo continued to argue before you interrupted him.

“Will you pay for it?”

“Is that all it’ll take?” He beamed, and you nodded. “Of course! Done! How much do you need?”

“You’re too lenient when it comes to him,” Kento sighed.

“It’s not the craziest thing he could request. He’ll get his endless supply of sweets, and you won’t have to listen to his obnoxious nagging anymore.”

“I’m sitting right here.” Both you and Kento ignored him.

“I really have to get this work done though,” you sighed, hand squeezing his shoulder.

“See you at home?” His loving smile had you lean down to press your lips tenderly against his.

“See you at home.”

“I’ll have dinner ready.”

“God, I love you.”

Then he flashed you that smile — the smile which was reserved solely as a response whenever you said those three words he used to dream of hearing from you.

It was funny really, how after everything things would turn out exactly how he as always wanted them to. Despite the hopelessness he had felt and all the pain you had endured — both together and apart — would eventually lead up to the happy ending he had dreamed of since the young age of five.

He knew he would do it all over again, in every universe, if it ensured this outcome.

“I love you too.”

tags @sad-darksoul @toadtoru

an anon, i am so sorry if this ended up longer than you wanted it. idk what happened, bc it just kept on snowballing <3 however, i am very touched you wanted me to do this request. warms my heart. hope it turned out okay mwah also, if you've read my satoru childhood friends to lovers fic and see any similarities, no you don't comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[jezebelblues]

home | h.s

requested!! thank u anon, i hope u can enjoy :)

summary: the entirety of y/n’s pregnancy with their son, atlas. [nov’18–may’19]

cw: unexpected pregnancy, labor + labor pains, fem!reader. i think that’s it!!

word count: approx 12.3k

| hope yall don’t mind that i included louis in this. i miss him fr. also, thank u again anon <3 hope this wasn’t too long

Life had slowed, but only just—somehow still breezy with that undercurrent of momentum that carried him from One Direction fevered heights, to the steady rhythm of his own solo journey. Fame was no stranger, but this? These moments were the ones he cherished most. He glanced at his wife, her eyes twinkling as she sat with their son. The simple joy of this evening reminded him of how far they had come. The quiet, intimate wedding in Holmes Chapel five years ago, the shockwaves it sent through the internet because they had managed to keep it so private, and then, only a year later, the unexpected news that YN was pregnant with Atlas.

He could still remember the exact moment he found out about their little surprise, how the world had seemed to tilt on its axis when she told him. It had been unplanned, a complete shock, but one that had filled him with a profound sense of love and responsibility.

Five years ago felt like a lifetime ago, yet it also felt like yesterday.

Five Years Earlier – November first, Holmes Chapel

The cold was sharp outside, but the small cottage Harry and YN had rented for the holiday season felt warm, cozy even. A fire crackled softly in the fireplace, and YN sat curled up on the couch, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Outside, a gentle snow, the first of the season, had started to fall, covering the village in a blanket of white.

Harry had been out all day, helping his mother with some last-minute holiday preparations. The quiet of the house felt calming to YN, but there was something on her mind, something that had been gnawing at her for the past month. Her period was late—later than it had ever been.

She had noticed other small things too. A slight queasiness in the mornings that she initially brushed off as stress from the hectic, upcoming holiday season. But now, as she sat there, the weight of realization started to sink in. She might be pregnant.

Her heart pounded as she thought about it. They hadn’t planned for this. They had only been married for about a year, and though they had talked about children, it had always been a vague, distant future sort of conversation. But now, the possibility was staring her in the face, and she wasn’t sure how Harry would react.

Would he be excited? Nervous? Overwhelmed?

She glanced at her phone, considering whether to text him and ask him to pick up a pregnancy test on his way home. No, that felt too impersonal.

She had paced the empty hallways of the cottage, occasionally texting her husband back or scrolling through instagram. She knew Harry like the back of her hand, he wouldn’t be upset—perhaps a bit overwhelmed, but upset? No, from the years they’ve known each other, he loved children. She couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of dance sessions, hide and go seeks, and cartoon watching she’d walk in on when he was with the children of his family or friends. And from the discussions they’ve shared of their own future children, she knew he’d be ecstatic—she just didn’t think it’d be so soon.

A few hours later, the front door creaked open, and Harry’s voice echoed through the small cottage. “Lovey, y’here? S’cold as hell out there.”

She stood, wrapping Harry’s sweater tighter around her frame, trying to keep her nerves in check as she walked towards him. He looked so carefree, a light dusting of snow in his hair, his cheeks rosy from the cold, a grin already stretching across his face when he saw her.

“Got y’favorite mince pies from the bakery,” he announced, holding up a small paper bag as he walked towards her. “Mum says we need to fatten you up f’the winter.”

YN laughed softly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She could feel the words bubbling up in her throat, but she didn’t know how to say them. Instead, she took the bag from him and set it on the counter.

He began to shuffle around the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a few glasses. He absentmindedly hummed a tune his wife didn’t quite recognize as he floated toward the freezer, pulling out a frosted glass bottle of rum with a smile. “Mum said she would’ve made it herself but–” He laughed, shaking his head as he set the bottle down on the counter with a heavy clank. “She’s decorating the house. Looks like autumn threw up in there.”

YN only responded in a gentle chuckle, one that made him look up with his eyebrows furrowed. Harry frowned, immediately noticing the shift in her demeanor. He paused, his eyes scanning her face with concern. “Everything alright, sweet girl?”

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. Her eyes burrowed into his, shifting gaze from one eye to the other. Her lips parted, unsure of how to form the words that sat heavily in her throat. She exhaled, managing a smile as she shook her head. “Just a bit tired, thats all.”

She couldn’t tell him until she was sure. If he were to be overjoyed, she didn’t want to get his hopes up on the off-chance she wasn’t pregnant.

Harry paused for a moment, not fully convinced, but he didn’t want to push. If something was wrong, she’d tell him when she felt ready. So, he only smiled back as he unscrewed the rum and poured into the square glasses. He looked at her expectantly as he raised his eyebrows, bringing her a glass.

She stared at it as if it would jump out at her, her reflection waning in the amber liquid. She pulled her lips between her teeth, shaking her head as her cheeks flushed. “Not feeling it tonight.”

At that point, Harry knew something was wrong. He furrowed his eyebrows, setting her—well, what was supposed to be hers—drink on the counter before he took a sip of his. “You sure y’alright?”

She brushed it off with a laugh, stepping toward him as he remained leaning against the counter. YN pressed a gentle kiss on his rum-slicked lips, cold to the touch. “You worry too much.”

He wrapped his arm around her head, pulling her into his chest with a sigh. “Rightfully so, m’love. Stubborn as a mule, you are.”

She scoffed, though only humor was laced in her tone. She pushed back from him, folding her arms over her chest with a feigned frown.

“What?” He smiled, taking another sip. “Should be titled an archeologist the way I dig for your heart.”

“Oh shut it, Styles. You’ve done no such thing.”

He laughed, placing his glass on the counter behind him and gently holding onto the edges. “You’re only proving my point, lovey.”

She rolled her eyes, flicking his chest before she began to step off toward the bedroom. YN looked over her shoulder expectantly with a sly smile. “You’re not gonna join me?”

She didn’t need to ask him twice.

He tugged his shirt off, tossing it aside as his wife’s laughter echoed down the hallway. She darted toward their bedroom, her giggles trailing behind her like music. Grabbing his glass from the counter and kicking off his shoes, he chased after her, a wide, mischievous grin lighting up his face.

There was a gloomy, gray sky the next morning, the kind where the clouds stretched thick across the sky, holding back any hint of sun. YN had woken up before dawn with a gnawing queasiness—a feeling that had been creeping up more often lately. She pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to calm the discomfort.

She reached into the plastic bag, pulling out the small pregnancy test she ordered from doordash before the sun rose. She had tipped the dasher generously before staring at it in the restroom for what felt like hours. Her mind buzzed, unsteady with thoughts she couldn’t quite wrangle. The idea of being pregnant had only crossed her mind like a shooting star. She was nervous. They were still basking in the simplicity of their life, the unexpected quiet of their year-old marriage. This hadn’t been in the plan.

But here she was, two minutes ticking by like hours as she stared at the test resting on the edge of the sink.

And then, there it was.

Two blue lines.

Her heart raced, a mix of emotions she could barely process flooded her chest. She didn’t know what she was supposed to feel—excitement, worry, fear? It was all tangled together in a knot she didn’t have the strength to untangle. She felt a hint of guilt wash over her; how could she feel uncertain about something so beautiful? But it was real, and she knew it. This was so real.

She sank to the edge of the clawfoot tub in the small bathroom, hugging her arms around herself. She let herself sit there for a while, just breathing in and out, letting the realization wash over her like waves on a shore, eroding her hesitation bit by bit. Eventually, she felt a warmth begin to spread, a tentative but growing love, a sense that maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be.

Oh, god—but Harry.

Mere discussions about a hazy future never felt so prophetic.

Footsteps on the old wooden floor outside the bathroom brought her back to reality. Harry’s voice called from the kitchen, warm and sleepy, a mug clinking on the counter. “Love, you up?”

Her stomach twisted again, this time more with nerves than nausea. She took a deep breath, tucking the test in her hand and opening the door. As she stepped out, she found her husband leaning against the counter, his hair tousled from sleep, a soft smile on his face as he sipped from his mug.

“Couldn’t fall back asleep,” she murmured, her voice just above a whisper.

Harry raised an eyebrow, setting down his mug as he studied her face, his expression shifting to one of gentle concern. ”You’ve been off since yesterday, please, just tell me what’s wrong?”

YN took a breath, feeling the weight of the words she was about to speak. She crossed the small space between them, the floorboards creaking softly under her bare feet. Her hands trembled as she reached for his, and he immediately stilled, sensing her unease.

“Don’t freak out, okay?“ She said, her voice breaking ever so slightly.

Harry’s gaze softened, his fingers curling around hers. “Alright,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. “Swear it.”

She swallowed, her eyes dropping to where their hands joined, and finally, she managed to say it. “I’m–” she sighed, “I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air between them, and she felt his hand go still, his thumb pausing mid-stroke. She dared a glance up at his face, and in his eyes, she saw the shock she’d been expecting. His mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.

It was the longest silence she’d ever felt.

And then, slowly, a smile began to break across his face, soft at first, hesitant, but growing. His eyes sparkled with something she hadn’t expected—something gentle and pure, and so, so warm. “You’re… serious?”

She nodded, a soft laugh escaping her lips, a mix of nerves and relief. “Yeah. I know it’s not what we planned, and I—”

Harry pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up tightly as if he never wanted to let go. She felt his heartbeat racing against her cheek, felt the slight tremor in his breath as he held her.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes glassy with emotion. “This is… I mean, I wasn’t expecting this, but…” He paused, his voice catching. “But, YN, this—this is everything.”

A smile broke across her face, the warmth in her chest growing, all her fears melting as she looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

Harry laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. “I’m sure.” His eyes held hers, full of something she could only describe as love beyond anything she’d known before. “I mean, look at us. We’ve done everything backwards and upside down, haven’t we?” He chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Why not this too?”

They laughed together, and in that moment, all her worries felt so small, so distant. Harry pressed his forehead against hers, his hands holding her gently. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “We’re going to be parents?”

YN nodded, her own laughter mingling with tears she hadn’t realized were there. “I guess we are.”

Harry wrapped her up again, his arms strong and sure around her. “Our little family.” He looked around, a spark of excitement lighting his gaze. “The start of everything, right here.”

They stood there, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet of the small cottage, a peacefulness settling over them. The morning light had started to creep in through the windows, casting a soft glow over them, and for a moment, the world felt perfectly still.

But as the initial excitement settled, the reality of the situation hit her hard. Morning sickness, which was more like all day sickness for YN, kicked in with a vengeance. She wondered what crime she may have committed in a past life to deserve such a karma.

She spent most of her mornings hunched over the toilet, her stomach in knots, while Harry hovered nearby, rubbing her back and murmuring soothing words. “It’ll pass, baby.” He would say, though there was a flicker of worry in his eyes every time she retched.

The first trimester was rough. YN felt exhausted all the time, her body aching and her emotions all over the place. There were days when she could barely keep food down, and the nausea was so overwhelming that she couldn’t even stand the smell of Harry’s cologne.

But through it all, he was a constant source of support. He made her ginger tea in the mornings, rubbed her feet when they swelled, and stayed up late with her on the nights when she couldn’t sleep. He even held her hair back during the worst bouts of sickness, never once complaining or losing his patience.

Still, telling their friends and family was daunting. Anne had been thrilled, of course, immediately launching into grandma mode, talking about knitting booties and baby blankets. But YN worried about telling the public. Harry had always been fiercely protective of their privacy, and the idea of sharing something so intimate with the world felt overwhelming.

“I don’t want people to think anything bad of me.” She admitted to him one night as they lay in bed. She had spent the entire day feeling nauseous, and her nerves were frayed.

Harry propped himself up on one elbow, looking at her with a gentle smile. “No one’s going to think like that, baby.. And if they do, then screw ‘em. This is our family. No one else’s.”

His words, simple as they were, helped ease some of the anxiety gnawing at her. They would announce it when they were ready, and in the meantime, they would enjoy these private, intimate moments together.

A few weeks later, when YN was finally starting to feel a little better, they gathered their closest friends and family to tell them the news. Harry’s friend’s were among the first to know. They had gathered at their place in London, a casual get-together that didn’t feel too obvious or formal.

Jeff had been the first to catch on, his brow furrowing as he noticed YN sipping ginger ale instead of her usual glass of wine on occasions like these. “Wait a minute…” he began, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he glanced between them. Oh God, you’re pregnant aren’t you?”

The room fell silent for a moment as Harry and YN exchanged a glance, a grin tugging at Harry’s lips. “Surprise!”

The room erupted into chaos. Mitch nearly fell out of his chair, laughing and shouting congratulations at the same time. Pauli looked like he might cry, and Sarah immediately started teasing Harry about how he’d better get used to sleepless nights.

“You two are gonna be knackered for the next eighteen years,” she quipped, though there was a deep affection in her eyes as she clapped Harry on the back. “But you’ll be great parents. I know it.”

As the weeks continued to pass and YN’s belly began to show, Harry’s excitement seemed to grow right along with it. He took over more and more of the household chores, practically hovering over her with a devotion that was both endearing and—just occasionally—a little over the top. But that was Harry; he never did anything halfway, and preparing to become a dad was no exception.

One evening, after a long day, they lay in bed, YN nestled against Harry’s chest as he rested a hand on her belly. His fingers traced slow, absentminded circles over her small bump, his gaze softening as he looked down at her.

“Have y’thought about names?” he asked quietly, voice almost a murmur. There was a trace of wonder in his eyes, as if he were asking the question for the first time.

She smiled, shrugging lightly. The idea of names had been floating around in her mind for a while, but nothing had quite felt right yet. “Mm, I’ve got a few in mind,” she said with a teasing glint in her eye. “Think I’m just gonna call ’em Fetus for now.”

Harry let out a laugh, his face lighting up as he shook his head. “Poor kid,” he said, voice full of warmth. He shifted lower, pressing a soft kiss to her belly. “Fetus Styles,” he whispered against her skin, his lips brushing her gently, sending a spark of laughter through her.

Her smile never faltered, fingers combing through his curls as he settled his head on her bump, gazing up at her through his lashes. He held her gaze for a moment, then suddenly broke into a grin, blowing raspberries onto her belly with glint in his eye.

She laughed, Harry faltering into her growing tummy as his phone began to ting with a mess of texts. He grabbed his phone that lay upon his wife’s thighs, sitting up beside her against the headboard with a wide smile as the phone illuminated his face.

She knit her eyebrows together, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Who has you smiling?”

He unlocked his phone, “Lou. I told him I had to talk to him tonight.”

She laughed as Harry clicked on the contact, pressing the facetime icon as the ringing filled the air. “It’s what..?” She trailed off, flickering her eyes in thought. “Noon in LA? Surprised he’s even up.”

After a beat, the screen flashed to life, and there he was—Louis, bleary-eyed, half-sprawled across his couch, nursing a mug of tea. He squinted at the screen, a smirk forming as he took them both in.

“Bloody ‘ell, look at you two all cozy!” He drawled, taking a sip. “Thought I was interrupting somethin’.” He chuckled, giving them a teasing wink.

Harry rolled his eyes, holding the phone between them. “Shut up. We’re just havin’ a quiet night in.” He glanced over at YN, then back at the screen, his grin a little wider. “‘Nd I needed to talk t’you, yeah?”

Louis’s smirk softened, curiosity lighting up his expression. “Right. What’s this then?”

He took a quick breath, almost unable to keep the smile off his face as he turned the phone back to YN, who gave Louis a warm smile before glancing at Harry. He squeezed her shoulder, then looked back to the screen, letting the words tumble out. “We’re havin’ a baby!”

For a moment, Louis just stared, the mug paused halfway to his lips as he absorbed the words. His mouth broke into a grin, and he let out a laugh. “Oi, you’re pullin’ my leg!” He leaned closer, shaking his head. “Wait, wait, you’re serious, aren’t ya?”

“Dead serious,” YN said, her voice gentle as she leaned in closer to Harry. “We’ve known for a few weeks now, but wanted to tell you ourselves.”

He sat up straighter, rubbing a hand over his face as he took it in, his grin somehow widening. “Jesus, Haz. A dad,” he mused, a playful sparkle in his eye. “I mean, didn’t see this comin’ back when you were too busy worryin’ about a pair of blue suede shoes to think about nappies.”

Harry let out a laugh, playfully nudging YN. “See, I’m just followin’ y’example, mate.”

Louis snorted, giving a mock scowl. “Better be—Freddie’s halfway to graduating high school it feels like. You’ve got some catchin’ up to do.” He settled back into the couch, softening as he looked at them both. “But seriously, this is brilliant, you two. Gonna make one hell of a mum and dad, aren’t ya?”

Harry glanced over at YN, his gaze lingering, soft and full of a quiet pride. “Hope so,” he said, smiling down at her before turning back to Louis. “Just been… sittin’ with it. So many things I wanna teach ’em, y’know?”

“Best get started on that lullaby playlist, then,” Lou teased, though there was warmth in his tone. “Bet you’re already plannin’ that first guitar lesson.”

YN laughed, rubbing a hand over her belly. “It’s just been a whirlwind, honestly. We haven’t even found out the gender yet.”

Louis grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Surprise ’n all? Makes it even better. Though if y’need tips on anythin’, I’ve got all the dad tricks—like what not to say when they’re askin’ questions in front of their mum.”

“Great,” Harry chuckled. “Start a whole book for me, will ya?”

Lou winked, lifting his mug. “Already makin’ notes. First chapter’s on nappies and the art of avoidin’ baby food on your shirt.” Then, his expression softened as he leaned closer. “Nah, for real. Couldn’t be happier for you two. And for that kid, too. Already got the best start with you both.”

Harry swallowed, his hand finding YN’s, giving it a gentle squeeze as he held his friend’s gaze through the screen. “Means a lot, you’ll be his grumpy, old uncle, yeah?”

Louis grinned, nodding with a playful glint in his eye. “Best be—I’ll have ’em singin’ the chorus to No Control by the time I’m done. YN, darling, don’t you worry—I’ll keep him in line.”

YN chuckled, leaning her head on Harry’s shoulder. “I’ll hold you to that, Lou.”

“Damn right you will,” Louis shot back, settling back against his couch, eyes full of pride and a mischievous excitement. “And when I’m back over, s’gonna be you two doin’ the nappies, while I teach that kid how to annoy his dad.”

Harry feigned a groan, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Cheers, mate.” Louis raised his mug, a glimmer of something genuine in his gaze. “Can’t wait. Love you both, yeah?”

Harry grinned, feeling the weight of Louis’s words. “Love you, too, Lou. Cheers.”

And as they hung up, YN nestled closer, both of them feeling the joy of sharing their secret with someone who’d been there for it all.

A few months had passed, and YN was officially eighteen weeks pregnant. The kitchen was quiet, filled with the warm scent of vanilla as Harry carefully set a single white cupcake on the counter. He’d insisted on something private, just the two of them. No big reveal party or confetti—just a simple cupcake with the surprise hidden inside. YN stood beside him, hands resting on her bump, a grin tugging at her lips as she watched him fuss over it.

“You’re really gonna make me cry over a cupcake, aren’t you?” she teased, nudging him lightly.

Harry’s eyes sparkled as he looked over at her, dimples deepening. “Just y’wait.” He handed her the small knife, his fingers brushing hers, and his voice softened. “Ready?”

She nodded, her heartbeat picking up as she sliced through the cupcake. Slowly, she pulled the two halves apart, then stared down at the filling inside.

Bright green.

For a moment, they both froze, staring down in complete confusion. Harry tilted his head, mouth slightly open, brow furrowed as he looked at her, then back at the cupcake. “Uh… m’pretty sure green wasn’t one of the options.”

YN snorted, a laugh bubbling out as she lifted the cupcake up to inspect it. “Maybe they’re tellin’ us we’re having a little Niall?”

Harry’s eyes crinkled as he burst into laughter, clutching his chest. “God help us if there’s a little Irish guitar player in there.”

She grinned, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “You think they’ll come out singin’ ‘Mull of Kintyre’?”

Harry laughed, covering his face with his hand. “First words’ll be potato, just y’watch.” He shook his head, still chuckling. “This is what we get for trustin’ a bloody cupcake.”

She rolled her eyes, reaching for her bag on the counter. “Should’ve gone with the doctor’s letter instead of dessert.” After a moment of rummaging, she triumphantly held up the small, folded envelope, smiling. “Alright, now you ready?”

Harry nodded, moving closer, his hand resting gently over hers as she slowly unfolded the paper. They both took a breath, glancing at each other before reading the bold, printed words inside.

Right underneath a blurry ultrasound picture printed onto the visit summary, there it was written.

Fetal sex: Male

For a heartbeat, they both just stared at the words, the realization washing over them like a warm tide.

“A little boy,” Harry murmured, his voice filled with awe as he shook his head in disbelief. “We’re gonna have a son.”

YN’s eyes sparkled as she looked at him, a wide smile breaking across her face. “A son,” she repeated softly, her hand covering his on her belly. Already, she could see him—a little boy with Harry’s eyes, his laughter, his kindness.

Harry swallowed, his own eyes misty as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, then resting his against hers. “Think we’re ready for him?”

She let out a soft laugh, brushing away a tear. “Not even close,” she whispered, her fingers lacing with his over her belly. “But I think we’ll do just fine.”

It was mid February by this point, a few weeks after celebrating Harry’s twenty-fifth birthday. The air had a sharp chill, and YN readjusted Harry’s oversized hoodie that hung off her growing frame, something that hid her bump well. They were dressed comfy and warm, Harry in a pair of sunnies with his hoodie pulled over his head. She nestled closer into her husband as they walked through the quiet side streets of London. They’d just finished lunch at their favorite café, savoring the rare chance to slip out together unnoticed. She pulled the hoodie over her head as a gust of wind brushed by.

“Wish we had days like this more often,” Harry murmured, his fingers lacing through hers as they made their way back to the car. “Just us, y’know?”

She smiled, leaning into him. “You mean just the two of us and fetus?”

Harry squeaked out a laugh that sounded like the ones from his early days in the x-factor, squeezing her hand. “Right, fetus. Can’t forget our little tagalong now.”

But as they turned onto the next street, something shifted—a distant hum of voices, then a sharp click of a camera. Before they could react, the quiet street filled with flashes, and a group of paparazzi materialized around them, spilling onto the sidewalk.

It wasn’t a swarm, just about five or so that were tipped off about Harry walking about the city in a pair of sunnies, as if that could keep him hidden.

“Harry! Harry! Just one photo!” A bald man shouted, pushing forward. The camera flashes came in rapid succession, blinding in the midday light.

He immediately shifted, drawing YN closer to his side, his hand protectively resting into her waist as he tried to steer her forward. “Alright, mate, that’s close enough,” he called out, his voice tense but calm.

“Harry, are the rumors true?” another voice shouted, barely inches from them, more cameras held up like a barrier.

“Just please let us through, yeah?” Harry’s voice was firmer now, his hand moving to shield YN’s face, pressing her into his chest as the crowd closed in tighter.

A jostle from the side sent her stumbling, and Harry’s arm tightened around her, his jaw clenched. “Hey, enough!” he barked, his voice sharper than she’d ever heard it. He guided her forward, his body acting as a buffer as he tried to clear a path.

“Just one shot, Harry!” a paparazzo persisted, his lens pointed squarely at YN, his hand cupping her cheek as he pressed her face further into his chest, her heart pounding as she held onto Harry.

He shot a glare of his shoulder, jaw clenched as he remained silent, maneuvering his wife past the cameras, his hand never leaving her. He kept his eyes trained ahead as he led her through the last stretch to his car.

Finally reaching the door, he opened it for her, a quick but steady gesture, ushering her in and following right after. The cameras pressed in one last time as he shut the door firmly, finally sealing them off from the swarm outside.

Inside, the car was quiet, insulated from the chaos that still buzzed outside, windows tinted as legally possible. YN let out a shaky breath, her hands in her hoodie pocket as she glanced over at Harry. His face was flushed, a mix of worry and lingering frustration in his eyes.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice gentler now, his hand pulling hers out of the pocket, thumb brushing over her knuckles as he studied her face.

She nodded with a faint smile, trying to steady herself. “Not our first rodeo, H.” She tried to joke. And it was true, it surely wasn’t the first time they’ve been bombarded by paps. YN wasn’t famous prior to meeting Harry, a smart girl as beautiful as she, he simply couldn’t ignore.

She was a friend of Anne’s best friend’s daughter, bumping into each other at a family gathering in 2014, immediately becoming close friends. He offered her a ride home that night, and when she thanked him profusely and offered to give him gas money, he knew then and there he was going to fall in love with this woman.

Fans and paps galore started delving into her life in late 2015, when a grainy picture of them kissing at a bar after a London show exploded on twitter. Since then, she always known about the lack of privacy in Harry’s life. And honestly, she’s still trying to adjust to it.

He exhaled, his fingers tightening around hers. “Hate that they got that close to you. Wish they’d just..” He trailed off, clenching his jaw as he glanced out the window, his gaze hardening when he saw the cameras still lingering in the distance.

She squeezed his hand, her voice soft. “It’s alright, baby. I’m alright.” She could see the tension in his shoulders slowly easing, though he still held her hand as if anchoring himself. “They don’t know, and that’s okay for now. It’s just us, remember?”

Harry nodded as he pulled from the curb, driving down the narrow street toward the red light. He turned back to her, his green eyes softening, and he nodded slowly. “Just us. Right.” His shoulders relaxed a little more, a trace of a smile returning to his face as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead while the light was still red.

But before he could pull away, she let out a small gasp, eyes widening as she felt a firm, insistent little nudge low on her belly. She looked up at him, her own hand moving instinctively to her bump.

Green illuminated over them, a honking echoing from behind as he froze in concern. “What?” He breathed, turning a corner to head to the grocery store in the distance, seeking a temporary refuge in the parking lot. He glanced between YN and the road, heart beating in his ears. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He raised his voice, though it wasn’t out of anger, just an anxiety that threatened to boil over.

She shook her head, her face breaking into a soft smile. “Nothing’s wrong, Harry. He just kicked.”

Harry’s eyes lit up instantly, his frustration melting away as he stared at her, a grin forming slowly. “He did?”

She nodded, pulling his hand to her belly as he parked. “Right here. Just now.”

He held his breath, his palm pressed against her bump, waiting. And there it was again—a tiny but unmistakable kick, nudging firmly against his hand.

Harry’s face broke into a radiant smile, his whole expression softening with awe. “Oi, there’s my little striker,” he mused, his voice thick with affection as he looked down at her belly. “We’ll have you in a Man United kit before you’re out of nappies, won’t we?”

She laughed, his words melting away the last traces of tension from the encounter outside. “Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you? Picking his team and all?”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling with pure excitement. “No chance he’ll be an Arsenal player.. First kicks mean we’ve got a future midfielder on our hands, yeah?” He grinned, “Dads gonna make sure y’got the right colors on you, bub.”

YN couldn’t help but laugh, her heart swelling as she watched the joy take over his face. She reached up, tucking a curl behind his ear, her fingers lingering against his cheek. “He’s already got you wrapped around his tiny little foot.”

Harry chuckled, leaning in to kiss her, his hand still resting against her belly, feeling another small nudge. “S’pose I’ll let him get away with it. Just this once.”

*

March arrived in a blink.

It was early, the kind of early that still belonged to the night, when Harry’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. The world outside was still draped in darkness, the streets silent, as if London itself hadn’t quite woken up. Harry stirred, slowly pulled from the depths of sleep by the vibration of his phone. He squinted in the dim light, his vision blurry, barely able to make out the name on the screen. Jeff.

With a quiet sigh, Harry picked up the phone, pressing it to his ear and trying to shake off the last bits of sleep that clung to him. He glanced over to YN, who lay nestled beside him, her breathing soft and even, lost in a peaceful slumber. Gently, he reached out and brushed his fingers along her cheek, a tired but adoring smile tugging at his lips. She stirred slightly, her head nuzzling into his hand, and he felt a warmth rise in his chest. Moments like this felt sacred, untouched by the outside world.

But then Jeff’s voice broke through the stillness, sharp and apologetic.

“Harry,” Jeff said, his tone low and serious, as if he wished he were calling for any other reason. “Listen, I hate to do this to you, but we’ve got a situation.”

Harry straightened, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. “What is it, mate?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, unwilling to wake YN just yet. He kept his hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing gently along her skin, grounding himself as he listened.

“There’s a magazine,” Jeff continued with a hesitant sigh. “They got photos of you and YN leaving the clinic yesterday after the ultrasound. They’re planning to release them tomorrow—noon sharp.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Harry’s jaw tightened after he took a shaky breath, his eyes falling back on YN, still blissfully asleep. They’d planned everything so carefully, wanting to share the news of their son on their own terms. They’d waited for the perfect moment, wanting to protect this piece of their life from the relentless intrusion of the outside world. And now, it was slipping out of their hands.

“Tomorrow?” he murmured, his heart pounding. He felt a surge of anger rising, and he closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. Jeff waited in silence on the other end of the line, letting him process the news.

“Yeah,” Jeff said softly. “I wanted to give you a heads-up. Figured you’d want to tell people yourselves, do it in a way that feels right.”

Harry nodded, even though Jeff couldn’t see him, his fingers still resting on YN’s cheek, feeling the soft warmth of her skin. “Thanks, Jeff,” he finally whispered, his voice tight. “I’ll–erm–we’ll figure it out.”

He ended the call and placed the phone back on the table, his shoulders slumping as he tried to process what to do next. He looked down at YN, her face peaceful in the darkness, and he felt a pang of guilt at the thought of waking her. She deserved this moment of rest, free from worry and the weight of the world pressing in on them. But he knew he couldn’t keep this from her. Not when it was about their son.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his hand moving to cradle her cheek as he murmured softly, “Baby, wake up.”

She stirred, her brows knitting together as she blinked up at him, still half-asleep, a faint smile gracing her lips as she registered his face. “H?” she whispered, her voice groggy and warm. “What time is it?”

“Too early,” he murmured, his own voice weighed down by the news he had to deliver. “Sorry t’wake you, but there’s something we need t‘talk about.”

Her eyes focused, a flicker of concern replacing the drowsiness as she sat up a bit, her hand resting on his. “What’s wrong?”

Harry took a deep breath, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “It’s the pictures,” he paused with a sigh, “from yesterday, after our appointment. Paparazzi took photos, and they’re planning to release them by noon tomorrow.”

The weight of his words settled over her, and she let out a quiet sigh, her gaze dropping to the bed. They’d known this was a possibility—their lives were never entirely private—but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. She leaned into his touch, her fingers lacing through his as they both sat there in the stillness of the early morning, grappling with the realization that their hand was being forced.

“What do we do?” she asked softly, looking up at him with a mixture of worry and sadness.

Harry’s hand moved to hold hers, his grip gentle but steady. “We tell everyone ourselves. Today. We’ll release it before they can, on our own terms.” He paused, his voice softening. “It’s not what we planned, but, at least we can still share him with the world our way.”

YN gave him a small nod, her eyes meeting his with a quiet resilience. They both knew they didn’t have any other choice. She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they took a moment to steady themselves, finding strength in each other.

“Okay,” she murmured after a beat. “I trust you.”

They spent the next hour in the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom, talking about how to share the news. Eventually, Harry decided on something simple, something that would feel personal without giving too much away. He reached for his phone and opened the photo gallery, scrolling until he found the ultrasound image from their last appointment. It was a grainy black-and-white shot, but to him, it was beautiful—a glimpse of their son, small and precious, already loved beyond measure.

He glanced at YN, who gave him a reassuring nod, and then he took a deep breath, opening Instagram. With his fingers hovering over the screen, he crafted the caption, choosing each word carefully, his heart pounding in his chest.

I’ve been waiting to share this part of our journey with you all for a while now. YN and I are expecting a son, and we couldn’t be happier to welcome him into the world soon. Thank you for your love and support—can’t wait for you to meet him.

Love, H

He read it over, then looked at YN, who leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She gave him a small smile, her fingers brushing his arm. “It’s perfect, baby”

With a final deep breath, he hit post, setting the phone down and letting out a long, steadying exhale. They sat there in the quiet of their room, wrapped up in each other as the reality of what they’d just done settled over them. This was the first time they were sharing their son with the world, and it felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

Within moments, notifications began to flood in, messages of excitement, love, and support from fans around the world who had been waiting eagerly for news like this. Harry glanced at YN, his hand finding hers once more as he gave her a small, relieved smile.

”Cats out’v the bag.” He laughed softly.

She leaned into him, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “They love you, H. They’ll love him, too.” She reassured.

As the sun finally began to rise outside their window, casting a gentle warmth over the room, Harry held her close, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t expected. Despite the forced timing, despite the circumstances, they had done this together. And from this moment on, they would continue this journ, hand in hand, as a family.

Weeks passed by, and it another chilly March evening, and soft candlelight flickered in the bathroom, casting a warm glow over the walls as steam rose lazily from the tub. The couple sat tucked into the water, surrounded by a mountain of bubbles that floated between them. The bathroom was cozy as Harry’s arms wrapped around her from behind, she leaned back against his chest, her bump nestled between them.

He’d insisted on running the bath for her, adding just the right amount of lavender oil to soothe her muscles, and now they were enveloped in that warm, calming scent, the soft sounds of water lapping around them. Harry’s hands rested gently on her belly, his fingers tracing light circles over the stretched skin as he hummed contentedly, clearly lost in thought.

After a few minutes of quiet, he dipped his head to press a kiss to her shoulder, murmuring, “You know, we haven’t really settled on a name yet.”

YN grinned, biting back a laugh. "Sure we have. Fetus Styles—don’t you remember?”

Harry groaned dramatically, his head falling back against the tub. "God help this boy."

She chuckled, turning her head to look at him. "Fine, fine. So, what do you have in mind, love?"

Harry hummed thoughtfully, his fingers still tracing light circles over her bump. "I dunno. Something that isn’t Fetus or something basic, like David.”

"Otis?" she suggested with a playful smirk. She knew he hated the name.

He snorted, his chest vibrating against her back, shaking his head. "Baby, Otis is the name of that big slobbery dog at the park. Our son deserves better than being named after a drool machine."

She playfully splashed a few bubbles toward him, her laughter filling the room.. "Alright, alright. So, we're vetoing Otis and Fetus, oh wise one.”

“Good,” he said, lowering his head ever so slightly and nibbling her shoulders gently. “So, what else is on your list, then?”

She leaned her head back against his shoulder, looking up at the ceiling as she tried to recall some of the names she’d been turning over in her mind. “I do like Ezra.”

“Ezra,” he repeated, as if tasting the sound of it. “It’s alright. But it sounds like he’d be in a jazz band or something.”

“Maybe he’ll be in a jazz band,” she countered, grinning as she nudged his arm. “A little musician just like his dad.”

Harry hummed, his fingers lightly drumming a rhythm against her belly. “Alright, fair point. Ezra can be a maybe. What else?”

She let out a thoughtful hum, swirling her hand through the bubbles. “What about August?”

“August’s alright I guess,” he said slowly, tilting his head as he considered it. “But I don’t know. August Styles..feels like he’d be a mischievous little troublemaker.”

“Like his dad, you mean?” she teased, glancing up at him with a knowing smile.

He grinned, shrugging. “If he takes after me, he’ll definitely be one,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But I dunno. Still doesn’t feel quite right. But I do like the idea of an A name.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each of them lost in their thoughts as the water lapped softly around them. Harry’s hands moved back to her belly, his touch gentle and reverent, as if he were trying to connect with their son through the warm water and the growing curve of her bump. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the warmth of the bath and the feeling of his arms around her.

After a while, Harry spoke again, his voice soft and thoughtful. “What about Atlas?”

YN opened her eyes, blinking up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “Atlas?”

“Yeah.” He shifted slightly, his hand still resting on her belly as he looked at her, his eyes warm. “It’s strong, y’know? Unique. I like the idea of him having a name that feels like he could carry the world if he wanted to.”

YN let the name settle, repeating it to herself, and feeling it take root, becoming more than just a word. “Atlas Styles,” she said softly, letting the sound roll off her tongue. “It fits him, I think. Strong like his kicks.” She giggled.

Harry’s face lit up as he grinned down at her, his dimples deepening, a twinkle of something unspoken sparking in his eyes. “Exactly,” he murmured, trailing a hand gently over her bump. “Atlas Styles. Got the name of a proper legend already. Manchester United should be countin’ themselves lucky.”

YN laughed again, rolling her eyes as she turned to face him. “Oh, really? Our boy is still going to save Manchester United, is he?”

“Obviously,” Harry said, his grin widening. “Just imagine it—Atlas Styles, midfield maestro, dominating the pitch. The crowd chanting his name.” He mimics the sound of a roaring crowd in a hush, “‘Atlas! Atlas!” He chanted in a whisper, “United will have never seen anything like him. They’d be winning the league every season with a name like that.”

She shook her head, fighting a laugh as she slipped a few bubbles onto his nose. “Right, because he won’t be busy enough carrying the world. He’ll just take Manchester United on his back too?”

Harry shrugged, brushing the bubbles away with a look of mock seriousness. “Our little Atlas can handle it all. With a name like that, he’ll be unstoppable.” He leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “But, if he’s not into football, I s’pose that’s alright too.”

YN smiled, squeezing his hand, warmth spreading through her as she thought of their little Atlas and all the dreams they had for him—footballer or not, world-bearer or not, he would be loved beyond measure.

*

The rain pattered softly against the window as April rolled in, casting a gentle gray light over the nursery. YN stood by the door, watching Harry wrestle with the crib pieces scattered across the floor. She cradled her belly, which had grown significantly in the last month. Her due date was set for mid-May, only a few weeks away, and she could feel the weight of their son settling lower, as if he, too, was getting ready for the journey ahead.

Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, brow furrowed in intense concentration as he squinted at the instruction manual. The crib, which he had eagerly declared would be a breeze to assemble, now looked more like puzzle pieces that lay scattered around him, screws and wooden slats in disarray, as he muttered under his breath.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” YN asked with a soft grin, leaning against the doorway as she watched him struggle.

He looked up, shooting her a playful glare. “I’ve got it, thanks,” he insisted, though he seemed far from convinced himself. He twisted a screwdriver, only for the wood to creak ominously in protest. Harry’s cheeks flushed, and YN bit her lip, stifling a laugh.

“Sure you do,” she teased, crossing her arms over her bump. “Maybe our son will be crawling by the time you figure that out.”

Harry chuckled, dropping the screwdriver with a resigned sigh. “Alright, alright,” he said, running a hand through his curls as he gave her a dramatic pout. “Go on, laugh at the man trying his best to be a good dad. Just what I need, huh?”

She laughed, stepping into the room to get a closer look at his progress—or lack thereof. “You’re doing great, honey,” she said, her tone light. “Maybe just… not great at building cribs?”

He rolled his eyes, but the hint of a grin played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue,” he mumbled. Then, before she could respond, he reached out, gently tugging her down to sit beside him.

“Hey!” she gasped, though she let him guide her down, leaning into his arms. Her back rested against his chest, and Harry wrapped his arms around her middle, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

He maneuvered her gently onto the carpet, hovering over as his hands resting on either side of her, leaning close, his face only inches from hers, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe I should distract you so y’can’t mock me,” he murmured, his voice teasing.

Before she could respond, he started peppering her face with kisses—one on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her chin. She squealed, laughing as he continued, his lips brushing against her skin, his stubble tickling her and sending her into a fit of giggles.

“Harry!” she gasped between breaths, her hands on his shoulders as she tried to squirm away. “You’re ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous?” he repeated, grinning as he planted a kiss just above her lips. “Maybe. But it’s working, isn’t it?”

She gave him a playful shove, but he only laughed, pulling her closer as he trailed his kisses down to her neck, the weight of him comforting as he hovered over her, his hands gentle on her sides. Finally, when her laughter had softened, he leaned back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze warm and full of affection.

God, how he loved her.

After a moment, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. “Alright,” he said with a sigh, glancing over at the mess of crib parts. “Maybe I could use those hands of yours.”

YN smiled, brushing her hand down his chest. “Hm,” she hummed, “where?”

“Oi!” The brunette giggled, swatting her wandering hand away as he sat up, shifting to be beside her. “Wicked woman, you are. Get to work.”

She huffed, although there was no anger residing in her. Maybe an ache between her thighs, but that’s something she could sort out with her husband later. She sat up, sitting cross legged beside Harry as he reached for the instruction manual.

The two of them sat side by side on the nursery floor, her hand resting over his as they sorted through the crib parts. Harry studied the instructions once more, pointing out the next few steps with a renewed confidence that was helped by her steady presence beside him. YN held the pieces steady while Harry carefully tightened each screw, the two of them working together, their laughter filling the room whenever something went slightly wrong.

Finally, after some teamwork, a bit of trial and error, and more than a few shared smiles, they placed the last piece into place, and the crib stood finished in front of them. They both sat back, admiring their handiwork, their hands intertwined as they took in the sight of the nursery coming together, piece by piece.

Harry looked over at YN, his gaze soft as he took in her face, still flushed from laughter. “Not bad for a couple of first-timers, huh?”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, holding her hands out in front of them and wiggling her fingers. “Thanks to these.”

He snorted, gently taking her chin in his grasp to force her to look at him. “Shut up and kiss me.”

As time passed by quicker than ever, spring took the city by full force, it was finally May. Flowers bloomed in their garden, trees shook with the delicate breeze of a looming summer. The sun fell behind the hills later and later, still offering a golden glow as they ate dinner.

A gentle rain drummed against the windows as YN and Harry shared a cozy dinner on the sofa, the warm light of a movie and fading sunlight flickering across their faces. They were nestled together, plates balanced on laps (and bump) as they laughed at an old comedy. Outside, the world felt comfortably distant. Everything about this moment felt ordinary, like the calm before a long-anticipated storm.

But YN hadn’t been entirely honest with Harry tonight. She had felt a dull ache creeping into her lower back and belly since late afternoon, a sensation she had brushed off as yet another round of Braxton Hicks contractions. Her OB had warned her that false alarms would be common in these final weeks, and she’d already had a few where they’d rushed to the hospital only to be sent back home. So tonight, she’d told herself that it was nothing—just her body practicing, nothing more. But as they watched the movie, she found herself shifting uncomfortably, her breaths deepening whenever another wave rolled through her.

The contractions had grown stronger as they ate, each one hitting her lower back with a dull, throbbing ache before tightening sharply across her belly. She bit her lip, forcing a smile whenever Harry glanced her way, trying to play it off. But she couldn’t ignore the way her body tensed or the cold bead of sweat she felt on her brow as she worked to stay composed.

As they finished their dinner, Harry stretched and stood, gathering their plates with a grin. “Think I’ll wash these up. You just sit there and relax, yeah?”

She smiled, nodding as he carried their dishes into the kitchen. He hummed softly to himself as he washed the plates, oblivious to the intensity of the pain building within her. She took a deep breath, gripping the edge of the sofa as a new wave hit, this one sharper than before, radiating from her lower back and spreading between her hips, each pulse making her muscles contract and tighten. She fought to keep her breathing steady, her mind racing as she tried to convince herself it was nothing.

But then, as she watched Harry rinse a glass, her vision blurred with another wave of pain—deeper, sharper, as if her body was tightening from the inside out. Her breath hitched, and this time she couldn’t hide the small gasp that escaped her. She braced herself against the sofa, her fingers digging into the fabric as she fought to breathe through it.

Harry looked over, his brow furrowing as he noticed the tension on her face. He set the glass down in the sink, wiping his hands on a towel as he stepped back into the living room. “Love?” he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. “You alright?”

She forced a smile, trying to play it off, but her voice came out strained. “I’m fine. Just–“ She grunted, “Braxton Hicks, I think.” But even as she spoke, it was like an aftershock of an earthquake, stealing her breath, the pain sharper than before. Her hand flew to her belly, fingers pressing down instinctively, and she had to close her eyes, focusing all her energy on breathing through it.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he knelt beside her, his hand moving to rest on her knee. “That doesn’t look like Braxton Hicks,” he said gently, his voice laced with concern. “How long’s this been going on?”

She hesitated, looking down as she tried to keep her breathing composed. “Since– since earlier this afternoon,” she admitted, wincing as the pain reached its peak, leaving her feeling helpless and raw. “I thought it was nothing, really. But it’s–I dunno– it’s getting worse.”

Harry’s face shifted from concern to something closer to alarm. He was quiet for a moment, clearly trying to process her words, before his gaze softened, and he slid his hand to hers, squeezing it gently. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice steadying. “We’re not going to take any chances.”

YN nodded, relief flooding her at the calm resolve in his voice, but as she tried to stand, another contraction gripped her—this time harder than any before. It started as a dull ache that quickly sharpened into an almost searing pressure, as though her whole belly was clenching in waves she couldn’t control. She gasped, her knees buckling slightly as she clutched Harry’s arm.

Harry’s eyes widened as he caught her, his face shifting into a worried frown. “It’s happening, isn’t it?” he whispered, almost to himself, before shaking off the shock and focusing on her. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her back down to the sofa with a gentle firmness. “We’re going t’breathe through this one, yeah? Just like we practiced.”

She clung to his hand, squeezing hard as she fought to steady her breathing, but the pain was relentless, each wave feeling sharper than the last. Her body felt like it was working against her, every muscle tightening until she was gasping, unable to fully catch her breath. She buried her face against his shoulder, her voice a shaky whisper. “H, this hurts more than I thought it would.”

He brushed a hand through her hair, his voice soft but unwavering as he held her close. “I know, baby. You’re doing so well. Just focus on breathing, alright? I’ve got you.”

As the contraction faded, she managed to catch her breath, slumping slightly against him, feeling a mix of exhaustion and dread for what was coming next. She felt his hand at the small of her back, steadying her, and she was grateful for the warmth of his touch, the calm he radiated even as she could see the worry flickering in his eyes.

“We’re calling the OB,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “This doesn’t feel like false labor, does it?”

She shook her head, unable to deny the reality that had settled in. “No..I think this is real.”

Harry’s face softened, a mix of pride and worry as he watched her breathe through everything. When the pain passed, he took her face in his hands, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice steady. “We’re going to get you through this, love. One breath at a time.”

With that, he stood, reaching for his phone and dialing their OB, staying right by her side as the call connected. He answered each of the doctor’s questions carefully, glancing at YN between each answer, his hand never leaving hers. After a few minutes, he hung up and turned back to her, a mixture of excitement and resolve in his gaze.

“She says it sounds like early labor,” he told her softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “We’re going t’the hospital. Just you and me, hm?”

YN nodded, taking a steadying breath as she leaned into him, his strength anchoring her. With Harry’s arms wrapped around her, she knew that she had everything she needed to get through this.

The rain had softened to a gentle drizzle as Harry helped YN into the car, settling her carefully into the passenger seat, his hands gentle but steady. Her breaths were deep and focused, each one an effort to keep herself calm as the contractions continued, not close enough to urge a rush but strong enough to leave her nerves buzzing with anticipation. Harry buckled her in, his gaze warm and reassuring as he brushed his hand over her shoulder.

“You’re doing great, sweet girl,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Next stop, hospital. Just you, me, and our little Atlas.”

YN managed a faint smile, squeezing his hand as he lingered beside her for a moment before closing the door and sliding into the driver’s seat. The car pulled away from their quiet street, its headlights cutting through the misty drizzle, as they made their way into the city. She leaned her head back against the seat, focusing on the rhythm of the rain tapping against the windows, letting the steady sound settle her mind.

As they drove, Harry glanced over at her frequently, his hand occasionally drifting from the wheel to hold hers. “Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Or if I need to pull over. Anything at all.”

He rambled when he was nervous.

YN nodded, keeping her eyes closed, breathing slowly. Another contraction started, gripping her with that same deep ache that radiated from her back to her belly. She clenched his hand, squeezing as she focused on her breathing, her fingers white-knuckling against his. It was painful, but she willed herself to relax, to breathe through the intensity, letting her breath match the gentle rhythm of the rain.

Harry squeezed her hand back, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin. “Out of all women in the world who gave birth, you’re the most beautiful.” He smiled warily. His stupid compliment even made him want to smack himself upside the head. But he looked at his wife expectantly.

When the contraction passed, she released a shaky breath. Part of her wanted to shoot daggers into him with a glare, but looking at that goofy smile she fell in love with, the way his cheeks flushed pink and eyes looked unsure, she couldn’t. She mustered out a weak, breathy laugh.”Shut up.” She whispered.

They reached the hospital, and Harry pulled up to the lot, parking the car before rushing around to help her out. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her through the automatic doors, his gaze steady and protective as he led her to the reception desk. The lobby was quiet, lit by soft fluorescent lights that made the polished floors gleam. Harry gently rubbed her back as they reached the counter, where a man with glasses and a walkie looked up with a polite smile.

“Hi,” Harry said, his voice calm but firm, “we’re here for an admission. Our OB requested it.” He grinned lightly, seeking to be polite despite his nerves. He gave his wife’s name through his smile.

The receptionist nodded, typing something into the computer before glancing back at YN, who was gripping Harry’s hand, her face pale and tense. After a moment, the man looked up. “Alright, we have you here. Just a moment.”

He picked up the phone, speaking briefly with someone before hanging up and nodding toward them. “Patient transport is on the way. We’ll get you into a wheelchair and up to the maternity ward to get settled.”

Harry thanked him, his hand resting on the small of her back, he murmured, “y’doing so well, my sweet girl.”

She leaned into him, exhaling a shaky breath as another mild contraction started to creep in, but before she could fully brace herself, a transport worker arrived with a wheelchair.

Harry helped her ease down into it, kneeling beside her and brushing his thumb over her hand. She looked down at him, her expression a mix of pain and determination. “I’m alright,” she whispered, her words braver than she felt.

He met her gaze, his eyes full of pride and unwavering support. “I know you are,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before he stood and walked beside her as they made their way to the elevator. The ride up was quiet, each floor lighting up in sequence as they ascended to the maternity ward, and she found herself counting each breath, each second, each floor, until they finally reached the unit.

Once inside the labor and delivery ward, they were greeted by a nurse who led them into a dimly lit room that felt strangely peaceful, its walls painted a soft pink, the lights warm and low. The nurse introduced herself, her voice calm and soothing as she helped YN settle onto the bed, helping her into a hospital gown before taking her vital signs and asking a series of questions, jotting down notes while Harry sat by her side, holding her hand.

“Let’s get you as comfortable as we can,” the nurse said gently, adjusting the bed’s settings. “Now, you’re still in early labor, so we’re going to monitor you closely, but it could be a while yet.”

YN nodded, feeling both grateful and anxious at the prospect of waiting. The contractions continued, rolling in like waves, growing in intensity but not yet regular enough to signal active labor. Each one required her full focus; she found herself closing her eyes, breathing deeply as she squeezed Harry’s hand, centering herself with each wave of pain.

Hours passed, the pain deepening with each contraction as her body adjusted, stretching and preparing for the arrival of their son. The nurse checked in periodically, taking notes, adjusting her position, and checking her dilation with gentle reassurance, but progress was slow. The contractions were more frequent now, each one a sharp, relentless pressure that seemed to radiate from deep within her, pulling her to the very edge of her endurance.

Harry never left her side, his hand a steady anchor as he held hers, his voice low and soothing, guiding her through each breath. “I love you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers as they breathed together. “Just a bit longer, yeah? You got it.”

At one point, the pain became so overwhelming that she couldn’t bear to sit still. Harry helped her stand, wrapping his arms around her as she leaned into him, her face pressed against his chest. Her arms draped over his shoulders, clinging to him as she rocked back and forth, swaying through each contraction, finding relief in the gentle rhythm. He whispered words of encouragement, his hands rubbing her back as she trembled against him, each wave of pain stealing her breath and leaving her gasping.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice a steady hum that she latched onto, focusing on the warmth of his words as the pain pulsed through her. “Just lean on me. I’ve got you.”

She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as the pain reached a peak, her knees weakening under the weight of it. But Harry held her up, his arms strong and steady, supporting her fully as she swayed, letting the movement carry her through each contraction. She pressed her forehead into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek, grounding her, keeping her anchored in the storm of pain.

When the nurse checked again, the news was disheartening—only a few more centimeters dilated. YN felt exhaustion beginning to creep in, the hours of labor sapping her strength, but Harry was there, brushing damp strands of hair from her face, whispering soft reassurances as she closed her eyes, her head resting against his shoulder.

As the hours ticked by, the contractions grew sharper, more intense, each one like a wave crashing against her, forcing her to draw deeper into herself just to withstand the pain. Harry eased her back onto the bed, pulling a mask toward her face, releasing a gas that would help the pain. Her mind blurred under the relentless rhythm of labor. Yet, every time she opened her eyes, he was there—his gaze steady, his hand in hers, his words like an anchor.

She held the mask to her face with her other hand, breathing it in deeply. As backward as it sounded, even laboring and pushing out a baby, the thought of a seven inch needle being put into her spine scared her even more. The thought of an epidural was tempting, being numbed from the waist down—but it made her stomach churn with anxiety, too. She had enough of that already, so she stuck to the gas.

YN lifted the gas from her nose, staring at Harry through half lidded eyes. “Can’t wait to have sex with you in six weeks.” She mumbled, her voice hazy.

Harry eased the mask back onto her, his cheeks growing red from her clouded words. He let out a breathy laugh, “Okay, one step at a time, hm?”

At last, as dawn began to break outside, the sunlight bleak, barely there. The nurse’s expression shifted as she checked YN’s progress. She smiled, looking up with gentle relief. “We’re almost there,” she said softly. “Just a little bit longer.”

Harry’s face lit up, his eyes shining as he looked down at YN, his voice soft and full of pride. He pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead, brushing strands of her hair back. “Hear that? Final stretch, baby.”

YN nodded, too exhausted to respond, but the warmth in his eyes gave her the strength to keep going. With every ounce of willpower she had left, she faced the final contractions, the pain almost blinding but her determination carrying her through, and Harry’s voice guiding her every step of the way.

Once she was ten centimeters, a team rushed in. Two nurses and the OB. Her legs were placed into stirrups, her gown bunched up over her tummy.

It was the longest, most intense thirteen hours of her life, but as she felt the final waves of pain, the medical staff guided her through the last moments, she clung to Harry, his hand a lifeline, his presence a comfort that wrapped around her like a shield. And with one last surge, a cry filled the room, and she knew it was all worth it.

“Oh.” She whimpered, her own cry emitting from her as her son was placed onto her bare chest for the first time. A nurse wiped him down as he wriggled against YN, Harry leaning down by her shoulder, staring in awe.

That was his boy, his son. A piece of him and the love of his life brought forth into the world. He wouldn’t be able to explain the feeling he felt as he flickered his gaze between his wife’s and Atlas’s.

Sparse stands of brown locks sat atop his head, a color matching his fathers. He gently placed his hand atop it, his thumb rubbing against his forehead as the little boy continued to cry.

His eyes resembled his mothers, as did his nose. But everything else? That was all Harry. He cooed at him, whispering soft nothings to to his baby boy before the nurse approached him with medical scissors. “Would you like to cut the cord, dad?”

Dad.

Butterflies surged through his tummy.

He drew a deep breath, looking at YN for silent encouragement, to which she only smiled at him. Her husband, the father of her son.

He gently grabbed the scissors from the nurse, hesitantly approaching where he was told to cut. He looked at his Atlas who seemed to calm down a bit, slowly coming to terms with being brought out into the world. He steadied himself, and then with a delicate snip, he cut the cord.

As he handed them back to the nurse, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the enormity of the moment settling over him. He looked down at the two he loved most in the world, lightly grasping onto his little feet and silently counting his tiny toes.

“Sit.” YN softly ordered, holding the boy against her chest with one hand and patting the small spot beside her with the other.

He nodded slowly, easing himself down into the spot after lowering the right side bar so he’d fit. He leaned against YN, his feet still upon the floor.

The baby was swaddled into a pale blue blanket before she handed him over to Harry, his heart melting instantly. He cradled him against his chest, tucking his head down to place delicate kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. “I love you so much.” He whispered, hesitantly ripping his gaze away from his son onto his wife.

His lip quivered as he placed a kiss against her sweaty hair, “Thank you so much.” His voice was delicate, a murmur. “I owe you everything.”

This was all he needed. His heart swelled with a love so profound, it felt almost overwhelming, as if the sheer depth of it might consume him. It was a love that stretched beyond anything he’d known, powerful enough to break him apart and put him back together all at once. But he embraced it, letting it fill every part of him, savoring each precious drop. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt exactly where he was meant to be.

This was home.

[hurtspideyparker]

If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2

Read Part 1 and Part 3

Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?

Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore

Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house

Tony: Hm. Makes sense

-

Vision cooked dinner:

Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*

Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*

Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*

Bucky: *just stares at full plate*

Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza

-

Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl

Bucky: Ok.

Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-

Bucky: Give me your phone

Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*

Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)

Sam: BOY-

-

Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-

Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*

Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you

Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him

-

Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert

Tony: Um, why?

Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !

Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.

Peter:

Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...

-

Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together

Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera

Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond

Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind

Bucky: Wanna go for a run?

Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*

-

*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*

Bucky: Dishwasher?

Peter: Dishwasher :)

(later that day)

Bucky: I've decided to let the child live

Peter: YoU wHaT?!

-

Thwip

Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here

Thwip

Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it

Thwip

Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago

*giggling from the ceiling*

Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality

Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!

Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?

Peter: Sor- OOF

*falls out of ceiling vent*

-

Sam: You're in my spot

Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area

Sam: Well that's my spot

Bucky: Did you buy the chair??

Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?

Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*

Sam: Still my spot

Bucky: Still not

Sam: *sits on him*

Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-

Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-

BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-

(one hour later)

Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...

Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*

Steve: I think I left something in my car

-

Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there

Wanda: UGH you're so protective

Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him

Steve:

Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want

Wanda: Really?

Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book

-

Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?

Bucky: *glaring*

Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -

Natasha: Yes it's PMS

Wanda: He's got it bad

Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?

Bucky:

Bucky: I like chocolate

-

Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time

Pepper: Why is Vision here?

Wanda: I get sad when he's gone

Natasha: Why is Pietro here?

Pietro: Slay queens

Wanda: Moral support I think

Maria: Why is Peter here?

Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad

Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?

Peter: ME ME ME

-

Steve: Pancakes or waffles?

Natasha: Pancakes

Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker

Natasha: Then why would you ask-

Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion

*2 minutes later*

Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?

Clint: Waffles

Steve: Oh no.

-

Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !

[talaok]

Sunbathing

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’ve decided to sunbathe topless, or as your husband Joel would put it, you’ve decided to torture him.

Warnings: needy Joel, kind of sub!joel, unprotected p in v, premature ejaculation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), come play.

a/n: i sunbathed topless for the first time and well this wrote itself

"You've seen my boobs before babe" A soft laugh bubbled up your throat as you turned your head left.

He wasn't even pretending not to be staring.

"Not like this"

You smiled, "what does that even mean?"

"not out... here"

You lowered your sunglasses to see him better, tilting your head to ask for further explanation

Yes you were outside, by the pool of the beautiful summer house you'd rented, but you didn't get how that made any difference, they were the same boobs he'd seen hours prior in your bed.

"I'm not used to not doing anything about them"

"ah" you hummed "is it that hard?"

You didn't even need to look at the smirk painting his face to regret your choice of words.

"yeah babydoll, it's real hard"

You only needed to lower your gaze a little to asses his statement.

"You're incorrigible"

"And you're torturin' me darlin'"

"How am I torturing you?" you laughed "I'm just taking advantage of the privacy we have to get a good tan"  

"and besides, I seem to remember how hard it is for you to see me with the whole bikini on too"

He sat up, the sunbed squeaking as he faced you.

"It ain't my fault if my wife's so pretty it hurts"

"you get so dramatic when you're horny" you chuckled, rolling your eyes.

He smiled, letting his gaze wander all over your body for a good minute, before getting back at your face

"nothin's gonna happen is it?" his tone was full of hope nonetheless

"no baby" you shook your head

He sighed, dramatically letting his head fall to his chest

"I'll have a swim then"

"have fun honey"

__ __ __

"darlin'?"

Not even ten minutes had passed, and that scene from the Barbie movie with the "Ken! Go for a walk or something" line couldn't not pop into your head.

"yes?"

He was standing right next to your sunbed, dripping wet and blocking out the sun.

"don't ya need sunscreen?"

A soft smile pulled at your lips.

Ten minutes, that's how long it took for him to come up with that.

"I put it on already"

He wasn't gonna give up, not on the first try.

"how long ago?"

"an hour, I think"

"the sun's real strong now doll," he said, drying his hair with a towel before throwing it on his bed "I think it's best if you put some more on… I can do it for you if you don't feel like it"

You chuckled, looking up at him, but he stayed in character, continuing to look oh-so worried about your safety.

"Somehow I knew that offer was coming"

"'m just worried about my wife, 's all"

he'd crouched down, taking your hand in his

"mh-mh" you hummed, sarcasm tracing your tone

"can't have you get sunburt now, can we?"

"no, we can't" you played along, smiling at him

"'f course" he murmured, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your lips as he grabbed the sunscreen.

"I'm so lucky to have such a caring husband"

"I'm the only lucky one babydoll"

He gave you one more kiss, before he leaned away and got to work.

He squeezed some cream into his hand, but to your surprise, his hands didn't land where you'd expected them to-

Only his eyes were betraying him. They were only on one, or actually two things even when it was your legs he was massaging.

The coldness of the cream and his hands felt good against your warm body, so much you couldn't help but hum appreciatively.

"feels good?"

"yeah baby" you breathed as his hands made their way to your thighs.

It always amazed you how hands so big, rough, and strong were able to be so gentle and soft on you.

You couldn't deny the shivers running up your body when his fingers reached your inner thighs, getting close to your core.

"what's that?" your husband was smirking like a cat, as he dedicated himself much too long on that spot.

"I didn't say anything"

If he thought this was gonna work, he was wrong. It was too hot, and you were too relaxed to do what he so obviously wanted to do... although you both knew how much you liked seeing him desperate...

He still didn't touch your boobs, no, next were your shoulders, then your arms, and then... when he felt on the brink of exploding, when he couldn't stop himself anymore, he squeezed a generous amount of sunscreen in his hands, and oh so gently started massaging your tits.

He couldn't stop a soft groan from fleeing his lips.

It felt amazing- of course it felt amazing, but you didn't wanna give him the satisfaction, and this was mostly for him, not for you, so your eyes remained closed as you pretended like it was nothing.

But that only lasted so long, because Joel could endure just about 30 seconds of that before he was bending down, and his mouth was sucking your nipple.

"Joel!" you gasped, your eyes snapping open just in time to see him climb onto you to straddle your waist, and then go right back to groping and licking and sucking your nipples like it was his life long duty.

"baby you're all wet" you tried complaining, but the smile on your lips was everlasting.

He looked so damingly cute like this, looking up at you with those big doe eyes as he worshipped your tits.

"so are you"

And yeah so what if you were- there's only so much a woman can do in front of this.

A soft laugh spilled from your lips as your hand went to find a place in his hair, your back arching to offer more of yourself to him.

"I don't even know how good it is for you to be licking sunscreen"

The look he gave you made it very clear he didn't give one single fuck.

And just when you were about to protest again, his teeth had gently bit your nipple, and a moan had spilled from your lips.

he took that as an incentive to go further, his hand slowly sliding down your belly, between your bodies, until it was seeping underneath your bikini bottoms.

"babe-" you stopped him, your voice breathless

His hand stopped on your mound as he groaned in frustration.

You could feel his rock-hard cock on you since the moment he straddled you- the man was desperate.

"please doll" he murmured against the soft skin of your chest in between kisses "Gimmie something-anything” he pleaded “Have mercy on your poor husband"

Your response was mixed between a laugh and a moan

"I can take care of you if you want"

He shook his head, his teeth grazing your nipple "Need to feel you darlin’"

Again, a soft giggle rumbled from your chest

"’S too hot to have sex here baby"

His hand had gotten out of your bikini to reach the other on your waist.

"the pool- the ground? fuck- anywhere you want sugar, just tell me where"

His clothed hard-on was rubbing against your core now, and fuck but once again you’d succumbed to Joel and his goddamn irresistible neediness.

"bring me back into the house"

It was like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear those words.

In a haze of kisses and lust, he’d picked you up, letting you hold onto him by wrapping your arms and legs around his body as he hurriedly walked into the house.

He didn’t make it far enough to encounter a single surface- and perhaps that was because he’d stopped looking and placed you against the wall the moment he’d passed the threshold.

His mouth was on your tits again, his cock was out, and his fingers had pulled your bikini to the side.

He said nothing as he slowly began entering you, the only sounds in the room being your moan as you threw your head back, and the groan he emitted, muffled by your skin.

“Oh fuck” you cried once he bottomed out.

Your husband was a very gifted man.

"'m not gonna last"

He sounded like the mere act of talking was taking all of his energy, and yet he was thrusting up into you like it was a matter of life or death.

"'s ok"

"I've been hard since you took your top off" he murmured, his breath fanning over your chest “you-you-jesus”

Your left hand passed through his hair, softly soothing him.

“‘S alright baby, don’t wait for me”

“You’re too fuckin’-” he tried to speak, but he was interrupted by yet another groan

“What?” you taunted him, a smirk pulling at your lips “what is it baby?”

His eyes were wide with desperation as he looked up at you, as his mouth stole languid kisses from your tits.

“Too hot- too goddamn perfect”

You bit down a grin at that, still stroking his hair

“I love you baby” you breathed, his cock reaching the deepest, most fucking amazing spot inside you in the meantime.

The moment those words left your lips your husband was fucked- the only words he was able to mutter were a series of -fuckshitgoddamn- before he inevitably reached his peak, filling you up with rope after rope of come that never seemed to end.

He remained like that for a little while, buried inside you, eyes closed, mouth still connected with your boob, until you left a gentle kiss on the crown of his head, and he woke up from his heavenly trance.

He let out a soft groan as he slipped out of you, and took his time letting you down.

You were smiling at him with that soft smile that melted his insides right up, and he couldn’t help but lean in and kiss it, kiss you like you were a soft delicate thing that he was scared of breaking.

“I love you more” he promised, kissing you again, even if you were smiling.

“Feel better now?”

You said it like he was a kid with a stomach bug, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Yeah darlin’” he murmured against your mouth “thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me” you laughed, but he was already shaking his head

“Yes I do”

And without further explanation, he’d dropped to his knees.

He slid your bikini to the side once again, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

“Baby you don’t have to” you tried to reason with him, but his mouth was already latched to your clit, and your hand had already flown to his hair.

He remained on your bud long enough to make you desperate, and then he started focusing on your whole core, his tongue lapping between your folds with what could only be described as feral hunger.

His come was everywhere, and yet he didn’t care, he was happy tasting the mix of your fluids, because that’s how Joel was- a nasty nasty man- only for you.

So much so that you felt his tongue enter your hole, simulating what he was doing just minutes before with his cock.

“Fuck-babe-”

Your moans were breathless, more like whines, like prayers.

You were looking at him as he was looking at you and Jesus... He looked fucking heavenly.

His hair all tussled from your fingers, his blown-out pupils, his never-stopping tongue-

“Joel” you cried, but he didn’t dare speak a word as he went back to your clit.

“Shit-baby- god!”

You had to tighten your hold on his hair as your orgasm crept up your body- and it was as you heard him groan with pleasure, as he sucked your clit into his mouth like a man starved, that it all came crumbling down, and you felt your body light on fire as your climax took over.

You were moaning and crying into the air for a good minute before you were sane again.

Only Joel hadn’t stopped eating you out for a single second, and even then, he looked like he had no intention of doing so

“Baby-baby” you whimpered, having to literally pull him away from your core.

He was smiling like a kid, and you couldn’t help but follow suit.

He put your bikini back in place, and then stood up, his hands lingering on your waist

“You’re crazy”

He couldn’t help but kiss you before answering,

“You make me”

[hoshifighting]

gym rat roommate!seungcheol

— WARNINGS: smut, seungkwan accidentally catch you naked (seungcheol's fault), oral (f. receiving), seungcheol cums untouched, ''begging'', reader tries to be unbothered as seungcheol eats her out, mentions of anabolics jokes and etc. — WC: 3.2k

you never thought sharing a dorm with a leo would be this damn exhausting. when you both got assigned to the same room, you thought it’d be fine—no big deal, just another dude trying to get through college, right? wrong. seungcheol is the textbook definition of a gym rat, spending half his life lifting weights, and the other half driving you insane.

“can you not leave your towel on the bed?” you huff, staring at the damp mess he’s made.

“it’ll dry,” he shrugs, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

“not the point,” you mutter, tossing the towel into the bathroom.

and then there’s the cabinets. oh god, the cabinets. every time he makes his stupid whey protein shake, it’s like he forgets how to close them. it’s a small thing, but it drives you up the wall.

“are you allergic to shutting doors or something?” you ask, eyebrow raised as you gesture at the open cabinets.

“didn’t realize it bothered you so much,” he says, smirking, which only makes you want to strangle him more.

but the stove? that’s where you draw the line. the dude can wash dishes, sure, but he leaves the stove looking like a battlefield, grease splatters and all.

“seriously, seungcheol, you gonna clean that or what?” you snap, pointing at the mess.

“i’ll get to it,” he replies lazily, which means it’s gonna sit there until you can’t take it anymore and do it yourself.

you two bicker like this all the time, the tension simmering just below the surface. it doesn’t help that he’s constantly complaining about your hair everywhere, or the makeup you leave on the sink when you’re rushing out the door.

“do you shed on purpose?” he grumbles, vacuuming for the third time that week.

“do you have to be such a neat freak?” you shoot back, rolling your eyes.

and don’t even get started on the tv. whenever you switch from his boring sports channels to something decent, like a reality show, he acts like you’ve committed a crime.

“i was watching that,” he says, voice low and annoyed.

“yeah, well, this is more interesting,” you retort, settling in for your dose of drama.

the only time you get any peace is when he’s at the gym, and those hours are like heaven. just pure, blissful silence. and for him? the few hours when you’re at your dance classes must be the only moments he’s not silently cursing your existence.

you always wished for a quiet roommate. not that seungcheol was loud—no, he wasn’t a screamer or anything, but his friends? they never left. you couldn't catch a break from the constant parade of guys stomping through your shared dorm like it was their second home. jihoon, one of seungcheol’s quieter friends, was looking for a new roommate at one point, and you almost packed your bags right then and there. the guy was a dream—silent as a ghost and didn’t have a herd of dudes wandering around the place like it was a frat house.

but nope, you were stuck with seungcheol, who never bothered to warn you before letting his friends take over the living room.

and that’s how you ended up in this mess.

seungcheol had left a few minutes ago for the gym, and you were enjoying the peace, taking a long, hot bath. everything was fine until you realized—you forgot your towel. with no one home, you figured it’d be safe to dash to your room and grab it. big mistake.

thinking the coast is clear, you slip out of the bathroom, water dripping off your skin, and make a dash for your room. just as you reach the hallway, freezing your ass off, you hear it—a rustling from the kitchen. before you can even react, seungkwan rounds the corner, a cup in hand, and both of you freeze.

“AHHHHH!”

you both scream like you’ve just seen a ghost, or, you know, each other naked. you bolt for your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

you can hear the guys in the living room getting startled, their conversation cutting off abruptly as seungkwan yells, “don’t come in here! for the love of god, stay put!” you imagine him standing there, one hand clapped over his eyes, traumatized for life—or not lmao.

from the safety of your room, you yell at the top of your lungs, “CHOI SEUNGFUCKING-CHEOL!”

you don’t leave your bedroom until you’re absolutely sure they’ve all left. you can hear them shuffling around, and then, finally, silence. when seungcheol knocks on your door, you yank it open, eyes burning with rage, and immediately start pounding on his chest.

“what the hell did i do?!” he asks, bewildered, as you keep landing blows on him, your fists connecting with his chest repeatedly.

“what the fuck, seungcheol! i’m going to fucking kill you!” you hiss, your voice barely keeping it together.

the boys who are just leaving freeze at the front door, eyes wide, before they scramble to get out, closing the door behind them in a hurry.

“whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” he stammers, trying to catch your wrists, wincing with each hit.

“what’s going on?! you seriously asking me that right now?” you shout, not giving a damn that he’s confused. his clueless expression only makes your blood boil more.

“i wasn’t even here, what are you talking about?” he says, sounding defensive, and it nearly makes you explode.

“you didn’t even fucking bother to tell me your friends were still here! i thought i was alone, seungcheol!” you scream, your voice reaching that pitch where even he starts to look worried. “and now seungkwan’s seen my fucking ass!”

his eyes go wide, shock written all over his face as he stares at you. “wait, what? seungkwan saw you naked?!”

“yes, you idiot!” you practically screech, your face flushing red with embarrassment. “he saw everything, and you’re to blame!”

“alright, alright, calm down,” he says, though his voice is anything but calm. “just… stop screaming for a sec, will you?”

“don’t tell me to calm down!” you snap back, but your hits start to lose their strength. “i can’t believe this is happening. fuck, i’m never gonna live this down.”

“it’s not that bad,” he tries, but you can hear the strain in his voice, as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.

“not that bad? not that bad?!” you glare at him, hands on your hips now, chest heaving. “seungkwan saw my naked ass, seungcheol! you have any idea how fucking mortifying that is?”

he bites his lip, and you can see him holding back something—probably a retort, maybe even an apology. but it doesn’t matter, because deep down, a part of him is seething for a different reason altogether.

“you’re not getting off that easy. i swear, if this ever happens again, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. i don’t care if i have to tattoo a schedule on your forehead, you’re gonna tell me when your damn friends are over!” you snarl, storming back into your room and slamming the door shut, leaving seungcheol standing there, more than a little terrified.

your luck was that seungkwan kept his mouth shut and didn’t tell anyone. he even apologized to you, which, honestly, wasn’t necessary since it wasn’t his fault to begin with. when he showed up at your door, looking sheepish, you waved off his apologies.

“it wasn’t your fault, seungkwan,” you say, sighing. “i don’t even know why you’re apologizing.”

“i know why,” seungkwan mutters, and you catch the way his eyes flicker toward seungcheol, who’s hovering behind him, looking a bit too innocent.

“he made you do this, didn’t he?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at seungcheol.

“are you really gonna scold me in front of my friend?” seungcheol whines, crossing his arms.

“it was your fault,” you and seungkwan say in unison, causing seungcheol to groan dramatically, dragging a hand down his face.

the next few days, you’re still so mad—the embarrassment has lightened, but the irritation lingers. you ignore seungcheol’s existence entirely, which seems to throw him off more than your usual bickering. but the result? the boy falls right into line. cabinets? closed. towels? hung up neatly. the stove? spotless, along with the dishes. it’s like he’s scared to mess up again.

he even starts working out at home, right in the middle of the living room, just so there’s no risk of his friends dropping by when he’s not there. every time you walk by and give him a dismissive huff, he sulks, pouting like a kicked puppy.

“you’re really not gonna talk to me?” he asks one day, mid-push-up, his voice a little too whiny for someone who usually acts so tough.

you don’t even bother to respond, just let out another huff and keep walking.

“come on, y/n, i’m sorry! what do i have to do, beg?” he calls after you, his tone half-joking, half-desperate.

you pause, glancing back at him, his big eyes pleading with you. you almost crack but manage to keep your composure.

you huff, slumping onto the couch, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv. seungcheol scoffs as he watches you, getting up from his spot and kneeling in front of you. you ignore him, your eyes glued to the screen, but you can feel his presence, and it’s hard not to notice how ridiculous he looks, sarcastically begging for forgiveness.

“y/n, come on, forgive me, pleeease,” he drawls out dramatically, hands clasped together like he’s praying, his voice dripping with mockery.

you finally tear your gaze away from the tv, raising an eyebrow at him. “go drink your protein shake, cheol,” you say, your tone dismissive.

he rolls his eyes, placing his hands on your knees, and there’s something in his touch that makes you pause. “okay, okay, for real now. can you please forgive me?”

your eyes drift down to his hands, warm and firm on your kneecaps. he notices the way you’re staring and moves his hands to rest on his thighs, waiting for your response. you stay quiet, taking in the sight of him kneeling in front of you, looking almost vulnerable.

when he thinks you’re going to ignore him again, you finally speak up, your tone dripping with mockery. “do you really want my forgiveness, cheol?”

he hums in frustration, rolling his eyes again, as if he’s bracing himself for another sarcastic remark.

you let a small smirk play on your lips. “then why don’t you make the most of being on your knees, and put that mouth to better use?”

his eyes widen in shock, your unbothered expression leaving him stunned. you can see the gears turning in his head, but before he can even respond, you slowly spread your legs in front of him, your attention casually returning to the tv.

seungcheol nearly freezes on the spot, almost losing his balance as he processes what you just said. but the sight of you, open and inviting, has him swallowing hard, his throat bobbing as he struggles to maintain composure.

he doesn’t know where to start, caught between the shock of your command and the thrill that’s been building up inside him for ages. he hesitates for a moment, then reaches under your dress, his fingers grazing the edge of your panties—the ones he’s already had a peek at earlier. you keep your eyes glued to the tv, acting like you didn’t just ask him to do what he’s been fantasizing about for far too long.

seungcheol’s never been one for preliminaries; that’s just not his style. so instead of teasing, he pushes your dress up, exposing more of your thighs, and hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down. his breath catches when he realizes you weren’t prepared for this—you’re not wearing the usual lacy things he often sees in the laundry, and you’re not wet—yet.

his hands are firm under your legs as he spreads them wider, leaning in closer. the anticipation coils in his gut as he spits on your pussy, watching the wetness slowly glide over your folds. you squirm just a little, the sudden sensation making you shift, but your eyes stay focused on the tv, pretending this isn’t affecting you.

the sight of you like this—so casual, so indifferent—only makes seungcheol more determined. he dips his head down, his tongue dragging a slow, deliberate line along your slit, tasting the mix of his spit and your skin. the thought that seungkwan got to see you naked before he did burns in the back of his mind, fueling his movements.

he starts off slow, almost gentle, but the more you keep ignoring him, the harder he goes. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it hard enough to make you gasp, though you try to keep it quiet. he can feel your resolve slipping as he works his mouth on you, each stroke of his tongue more focused, more intense.

seungcheol’s goal is clear: make you forget about whatever the hell you’re watching on tv and finally give him the attention he craves. he wants to see you fall apart because of him, to know that he’s the one getting you off like this.

he moves one of his hands to your thigh, squeezing it as he bobs his head, sucking your clit harder with each motion. finally, you can’t take it anymore. your head tilts down, and you meet his gaze—his big, dark eyes looking up at you so fucking needy. the sight of him, lips slick with your arousal, head moving rhythmically between your legs, makes your jaw fall slack.

your hand instinctively reaches for his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you grip him tighter, urging him on. seungcheol hums against your clit, the vibrations making you moan, your focus entirely on him now. the tv is forgotten, the show nothing more than background noise as you finally give him what he’s been aching for—your full, undivided attention.

his tongue flicks over your clit—fast, almost unbelievably so—and your body reacts instantly. your back arches off the couch, toes curling, and your grip on the remote tightens. you squeeze it so hard that buttons are pressed at random, the tv screen flashing through channels, the volume going mute, settings changing. but none of that matters anymore. the only thing you can focus on is the way seungcheol’s tongue works against you, driving you absolutely insane.

he grabs your hips, holding you down because you’re squirming too much, trying to grind against his face despite the overwhelming sensation. every time you move, he digs his fingers into your skin, a low groan vibrating against your pussy. your breath comes out in shaky moans, and even though you can barely string words together, you start talking dirty to him anyway.

“f-fuck, seungcheol—y-you're so fucking good at this, fuck—”

your words are laced with moans, stuttering as you try to form sentences. “y-your tongue... oh my god, i hate you—i fucking hate you,” you gasp, but the way you’re grinding into his face tells him otherwise. “i s-swear, you're gonna make me cum s-so fast, you asshole.”

the filthy words spilling from your mouth only fuel him more. he’s close to losing it, just from the sound of you, from the way you’re cursing him out between moans. his tongue flicks faster, relentless, and he watches the way you react, loving the way your body shakes under his control.

“y-yeah, just like that, don't stop—oh, fuck,” you manage to gasp out, your voice rising as he pushes you closer to the edge. he’s so turned on it’s almost embarrassing, the way you’re unraveling beneath him making him throb painfully in his pants. your filthy and breathless talk, your taste and the way youre wetting his tongue more and more, makes him feel like he could cum right there, just from the way you moan his name.

he’s obsessed with the way you’re falling apart, and when you start tugging at his hair harder, he knows he’s got you right where he wants. your head falls back, the tv now nothing but a silent, blurry background, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his tongue, his mouth, the way he’s devouring you like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

“god, fuck—cheol, i’m so fucking close,” you moan, your body trembling as you teeter on the edge. he flicks his tongue faster, sucking hard on your clit, desperate to make you cum, desperate to feel the way you’ll fall apart completely because of him.

seungcheol’s hips grind against the corner of the sofa, desperately seeking some kind of friction. when he feels your breath catch, your voice going silent, he risks a glance up and sees you—your mouth open, almost like you’re ready to take him in, and your hand gripping his hair with an iron grip, showing no mercy. the way you’re spasming on his tongue, the tension in your body, it all pushes him closer to the edge.

he lets out a long, whiny moan against you, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and then he can’t help it—his mouth slips from your clit, leaving it throbbing and aching, as his hand rushes down to grab his cock. he presses his thumb against his slit through his sweatpants, feeling the dampness already soaking through. he’s so turned on it’s almost painful, his hips bucking against his hand as he lets out a moan into the soft skin of your thigh.

“fuck, seungcheol,” you pant, spreading your legs wider, acting like you’re not just as turned on by the sight of him falling apart in front of you. “you really came that fast? i didn’t think the gym rat would be such a quick shot,” you tease, your voice dripping with mockery. “what, the anabolics making you weak or something?”

his eyes snap up, and he shoots you a glare, knowing damn well he doesn’t use that shit. “shut the fuck up,” he mutters, trying to sound pissed, but the effect is ruined by the way his voice shakes.

you smirk, your gaze mocking as you look down at him. “then stop whining and get back to work,” you command, your tone sharp. “or do i need to find someone else who can actually handle me?”

seungcheol’s jaw clenches, eyes stabbing you as he leans in again. he bites down lightly on one of your folds, making you jolt and laugh, the sound quickly turning into a moan as he resumes his task.

“that’s more like it,” you say, voice breathy, threading your fingers through his hair again, a satisfied smile on your lips as he starts flicking his tongue over your clit once more.

he grins against you, feeling the vibrations of your moan as you finally let go, focusing entirely on the pleasure he’s giving you. it’s a game for him now, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him, determined to make you lose control all over again. the sound of your laughter + your moans is the only thing he needs, spurring him on as he buries his face between your legs, eager to make you come undone for him, and only him.

[maybanksprincess]

let me make it up to you. // j.m

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut! make up sex, fingering, f receiving, smoking, kissing, pet names, female reader, JJ and reader are aged up (bf, gf relationship)

summary: JJ and reader are in a disagreement, and JJ overreacts thinking he's going to lose her over it.

pairings: boyfriend!jj x girlfriend!reader

JJ had just gotten into an argument with you. your first real argument, well as he thought was a real argument. he was flipping out. so, the only logical thing in his mind to do was talk to pope and JB. They were all in the twinkie. John b is in the front, JJ and Pope in the back. He was a mess; his mind was a mess. Everything he did following that argument you two had, was all wrong.

He couldn't even roll his weed correctly, and that was something he never failed at. He sighed and just prepared to smoke the poorly rolled blunt. he grabs a lighter from the pocket of his cargo shorts, puts the blunt in his mouth, and lights the end of it, inhaling some of the smoke.

"Yeah man, she just got pissed off, but I didn't mean anything by it, bro. she should know that"

"jj, maybe she just wants space." john b says, taking the blunt away from jj's fingers

"Yeah, but that's the thing dude, we've never had... space. that doesn't exist to us."

pope chimes in "yeah john b, horrible idea. jj follows her like a lost puppy."

"Not my fault I can treat my girl right, man." jj says, in a matter of a fact tone. he rolls his eyes, and throws his head back, shutting his eyes. then an idea pops into his head. "You know what, I'll catch y'all later."

he uses his fingers to push his hair back into his favorite hat, then he hops onto his motorcycle and drives through the path to your house. about 10 minutes later, he gets to your house and parks his motorcycle in your driveway, he gets off his bike and walks up to your front door. knocking with his secret knock you two share.

You had some shorts, and one of jjs shirts on. you hadn't been super mad about the little disagreement you had with him, you just didn't wanna give him the satisfaction of forgiving him so easily.

you open your front door to see your boyfriend fiddling with his hands and looking anywhere but your eyes, you almost felt bad. jj looked at you with those ocean eyes, "baby im sorry just..let me make it up to you. please?"

~

an hour ago, you never would've thought jj would have been eating you out for 30 minutes straight, to show u how sorry he is. he has his middle and ring finger in your slippery wet cunt, while his tongue laps at your sensitive bud, his tongue licks figure 8's over and over on your clit.

after giving you three orgasms from his tongue, he pulls his shorts and boxers down in one swift movement, his girthy cock springing free and slapping his stomach. he enters you slowly, but once he's in, he's thrusting, and mumbling "im sorry baby," and "let me show you how much i love you" over and over again.

after you both finish, he cleans you up with a warm rag, and changes ur shirt and underwear to help u be more comfortable. he turns your fan on and brings u some water, and you two cuddle under your blankets.

"i love you jay"

"i love you more, cupcake"