#i’m falling in love with multiple scenarios of them meeting Before Everything but like just little glimpses u know?

[loveinhawkins]

It’s a long summer’s day—August 1985, to be precise—and all Eddie Munson wants to do is leave a broken down fridge in the junkyard.

“I don’t know if you can dump those here, actually,” comes a voice from somewhere above.

Eddie looks up and seriously contemplates the possibility that he’s contracted heatstroke while straining to remove the fridge from the back of his van.

Because surely that’s not Steve Harrington sitting up on the roof of an old school bus like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do.

“And what are you, Harrington? The junkyard inspector?”

Eddie pushes the fridge with the sole of his shoe until it topples over with a satisfying clunk into the dry grass.

Steve cups his hands around his mouth, cheering like a sports commentator. “What a shot!”

Okay. Maybe Eddie’s not the one suffering from heatstroke after all.

Or maybe this is just what happens to some people after graduation: you lose the social hierarchy of high school, and then before you know it, you’re surveying the Hawkins junkyard like it’s gym class.

Poor guy.

Eddie should really just leave him be. But… well. He’s intrigued.

“And where’s the stuff you were dumping, Harrington?” He puts on a mock grave expression, folds his hands as if in prayer. “Your car die on you?”

“Uh, no. Just.” Steve shrugs. “Just hanging out.”

“Mm-hmm, yeah, you sure picked a nice place for it. Wait, this isn’t one of your tryst locations, is it?”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “Ew, no. Tryst? Can’t you just say make-out spots like a normal person?”

“Nope. Honestly, where’s the fun in that, Harrington?”

Eddie gets a bit closer to the bus, squinting against the sun. There’s a brief moment of shadow thanks to a passing cloud, and he can suddenly see evidence of what must’ve been a huge bruise healing across Steve’s face.

Steve heaves a great sigh; Eddie gets the impression that if he wasn’t here, Steve would’ve flopped backwards, using the roof like a sun-lounger.

“Hey, uh. Are you…?”

Steve makes a face. “Just ignore me. It’s the heat, man. I get… antsy.”

Eddie does not point out the fact that Steve definitely has a massive, air-conditioned house in which to escape from the sun.

“Uh-huh,” he says slowly and hopes it sounds enough like, “Meaning…?” without being too obnoxious about it.

Steve looks down at him, and for a moment it’s almost like he’s sizing him up—not in, like, a gym-class-intimidation kind of way, more…

Eddie’s not sure.

But a flicker of something definitely crosses Steve’s face—something almost vulnerable, maybe—and then it’s gone.

He mimes aiming an imaginary gun at Eddie, one eye closed, and drawls in a ridiculously bad Russian accent, “I would tell you, but I’d have to kill you.”

Eddie’s surprised into laughter. Where was this personality at school? In hiding?

“Fine. Keep your secrets, Steve Harrington.” He raps on the body of the bus, as if they’ve just met in a parking lot instead. Something normal. “Enjoy your, uh… lookout spot.”

Steve smiles, raises a hand. “See you, Munson. Hey, what was the shit you used to say?” And it must be a trick of the light, the sun in Eddie’s eyes, because for a moment it looks like Steve actually winks at him. “Here be dragons.”

[altairs-little-world]

Can i request Rei Sakuma, Leo Tsukinaga, and Izumi Sena (Separate) react to seeing their s/o run to the playground before they could walk past it after their date? I imagine the reader asking rei if he could push them in the swings. Thanks in advance!

Rei, Leo, Izumi - Seeing their S/O run to a playground 

Characters: Rei Sakuma, Leo Tsukinaga, Izumi Sena

Genres: Fluff

Small “tags”: Canon Universe, Mentioned dates, playground, comforting, swings, see-saw, playing tag, overthinking a lil’, Rei's old man mentality, everyone is just a big kid at heart, every scenario is a reader of diff personality I- /sobbing/

TW: None!

A/N: REI SAKUMA MY BELOVED orz (my cabbage may be staring daggers at me rn but omigoodness someone requested for the Rei of sunshine thank you)! 

Ooo a lot more requests too, I’ll probably be posting and clearing off the short scenarios and HCs first as the others will take a longer time! Sorry to the anons who submitted earlier but will be having their request fulfilled much later - I’m not ignoring them, there’s none that I think should be ignored or dropped yet! Just need some more time to make sure the story’s good enough, please bear with me!

I think I may have gone a little off topic here and there in this one… Head empty only multiple Enstars scenarios that I think too much about- I hope you still enjoy it, though! (You can clearly see my bias toward Rei I think I’m sorry I love this old man) 

REI SAKUMA ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

— Naturally, being an idol and a unit leader, Rei had a lot on his plate. 

— But that wasn't going to stop him from spending time with you, his beloved! No, sir, when Rei Sakuma sets his mind on something, nothing can get in his way. And in this case, you were that something.

— You were pleasantly surprised with a date at the new dessert shop that opened nearby! The self-proclaimed vampire really knew how to take care of you and your sweet tooth. 

— Due to the male's whines about the bright, scorching summer sun, both of you stayed in the cool, air-conditioned shop till the sunlight started to wane, offering a cooler atmosphere to walk home in, which you took. 

— He holds your hand loosely, giving you the chance to pull away whenever you wanted, not that you normally would.

— Oh! What do we have there? You perk up when you spot the bright colours of the playground, and even more so at the empty swings swaying slightly in the wind. Swings! Your absolute favourite!

— You just couldn’t resist - you hadn’t been on a swing in so long, you were so deprived of the fun of playing one - and so you tighten your hand around Rei’s, dragging him along. Swings required 2 people to play, after all!

“Help push me? Please?” Oh, how could he not? There wasn’t even any need to act cute, though, in his eyes, you were so naturally adorable that it made everything you did seem cute. He loved you too much to deny anything of you, especially a simple request like this.

“Hold on tight then, sweet thing,” He nips at your earlobe as he speaks, enjoying how your ears turned red at the fleeting action and nickname. The brunette grips the sides of your seat, walking backwards to pull the swing back before letting go, relishing in your little “Wooo!” sounds as you swing forward. “You really enjoy this, don’t you? Perhaps we should come here more often.”

“Because it’s fun!” You said, stretching your legs out as the swing swung forward again, and tucking them in when it went backwards. “Have you never played on one before?” 

“Kuku, certainly not. Ah, but I do remember pushing Ritsu on a swing once, when we were much younger,” Rei reminisces, a wistful note in his voice. “The person behind has to be the stronger one, isn’t that right? To be able to push the other forward, to catch them when they fall backwards…” 

“Wait, wait,” You slow the swing to a stop with your feet against the playground floor, turning in your seat to meet his ruby-red eyes in a frown. “So you’ve never played on a swing because you’ve been going about some philosophy with how a swing works and you think you always have to be the stronger one?” 

“When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound too good, does it?” 

“Rei. Rei, my love, my sleepy vampire, my old man, this, a swing, is but a simple child’s play - there’s nothing deep behind it!” 

“If you say so, my beloved,” He shrugs, bending over to pull the swing back again. You sigh at how he dismisses your words, releasing your grip on the chains to cup his fair face. 

“And you, don’t think you always have to be strong. No one can be strong all the time, yeah?” Rei hums in agreement, or in satisfaction of having his face warmed by your hands, you didn’t know. “Rely on me too, alright? Love isn’t all about giving, giving, and giving.” 

“I didn’t exactly mean that - you know how this old man talks.” 

“Still, my statement stands.” 

You stare at him stubbornly, refusing to release his head from your hands, until he gives a small laugh. Pale hands reach up and hold your hands, pulling them away from his face a little to press kisses onto your palm, smiling against the skin. 

“... Thank you, my love.” Short, simple words, but it was more than enough to convey his feelings. “So, I assume you’ll be the one pushing me after you’ve had your fun on the swing?” 

“Hm hm! If you want me to!” You lean forward to bump foreheads with him, smiling. Rei releases your hands after one last kiss, allowing you to hold onto the chains of the swing once again. “So stop being a moody old man and let’s continue playing!” 

“Of course.”

He starts pushing you on the swing in a languid, rhythmic manner, your laughs and his chuckles filling the air in a joyful melody. 

“Haha… Even this old man feels young when he’s with you~”

LEO TSUKINAGA ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

— With you two being morning people and somehow sharing a single braincell, you had both suggested meeting up at the nearby park for a morning stroll at the same time, laughing at the unanimous decision made between the both of you. 

— To spend the first few hours of this pleasant day in each other's company was like a dream, your boyfriend humming little tunes in the late dawn of winter, tiny fangs showing when his signature smile adorns his face, dragging you closer to him. 

— Leo's arm finds its place, draped over your shoulder to keep you right there, right next to him. You, obviously, had nothing against that. He was warm, and you loved him - there was no reason to escape from his grasp. 

— Except maybe one. Your eyes lit up when you saw a playground, conveniently devoid of children since they were all at school at this hour. Twisting your neck to look up at your boyfriend, you stare at him, wide-eyed, while he meets your gaze with a curious smile. 

— That was the only warning he got before you were gone from his side. He certainly wasn't expecting you to suddenly dash over the playground climber and nimbly climb up onto it. But he wasn't complaining! With someone like you by his side, his world was never devoid of surprises or happy laughter - the latter was now prompting Leo to run over and see just what you were up to.

“Haha! I claim this castle!” You proclaimed, waving your arms around at the structure you were on, leaning over the railings a little to look down at your boyfriend proudly. He only returns the smile, arms akimbo as he starts playing along with the little drama game that you initiated every so often. 

“If that is your castle, my monarch, then as your knight, I naturally have access to it!” 

“Uh oh - Then, out of here, I shall go!” Leo’s shoes made little “thunk” noises when he climbed up onto the playground climber, while you made your quick escape down a small slide that you couldn’t really slide that well on. It wasn’t meant for rowdy teenagers like the both of you, after all, but was that going to stop you two? No!

Your boyfriend made it down the slide with much difficulty too, immediately springing to his feet to chase you around in circles, snow crunching under your feet as you called out mocking comments.

Realizing this was going nowhere, with you expertly outrunning him all the time, Leo had a change of tactics. The sound of footsteps behind you slowed to a stop, followed by his bright voice. "Hey! Hey, look here, look what I found~!" 

Turning around, you see the orange-haired male crouched as if he was about to pounce, emerald eyes glinting with mischievousness. 

A small scream rings through the air as he tackles you into the snow, your voice accompanying him in laughter as Leo encases you in a tight hug and rolls all over the cold ground, leaving a trail of flattened snow. Thank goodness the two of you were wrapped up in heavy winter coats, or you’d be freezing by now!

Though, being with Leo, your music-loving ray of sunshine, you didn’t think you could ever feel cold. Even with your current position, lying on your side in the snow, you could feel his warmth from the arms around you and his breath mingling with yours as you both giggle from the activity. 

“Tah-dah, I've found the light of my life!” He boasts, squeezing you into an even tighter hug and snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Noooo! Let me go!” You wail in mock protest, struggling against his strong grip. Boy, for a baby-faced composer who hardly worked out other than idol practice, he was freakishly strong when it came to hugs.

“No can do! I- Gah??!” Anyway, a small surprise attack on his stomach with your fingers was all you needed to get the ticklish man to loosen his hold on you, hands pulling back to push your hands away. “Ha- Stop- Haha-!” 

“And I’m free, once again!” Your jubilant theatrics continued, rolling away before getting up and dashing to the other end of the playground as Leo let out weak laughs, recovering from your “brutal” attack. He rolls onto his back and flops his arms on either side, chest heaving up and down as he tries to catch his breath. “Hey hey, not coming to catch your runaway monarch anymore, my knight~?” 

The boy sits up at your provocation, jumping up to his feet with an energized grin yet again, chasing after your light as he always had.

“Run all you want, your majesty! Your knight will always be with you, one step behind!”

IZUMI SENA ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

— Izumi, being the high-standard romantic that he is, arranges for a candlelight dinner at a fancy restaurant downtown, of all things. 

— As expected, you only stepped out of the restaurant - with your boyfriend linked to you by your hands - when the sky was pitch-black, with yellowish lights from lamposts and cars illuminating the roads. 

— Wanting to spend more time with him, you suggested walking home together! Your knight amicably agrees with his charming smile, squeezing your hand in a small show of affection. 

— Both of you share a conversation, chatting about what each of you had been doing in the time you’d been away from each other, resting your head on the other’s shoulder as you two strolled through the dimly lit streets.

— And then! Watching a deserted playground come into view, you were struck with one of your “silly thoughts” - as Izumi called them - shaking the male’s hand off to run over, knowing that he would follow your steps without questioning you. In the beginning, at least. 

“What are you doing?” The question comes out as he catches up to you, with no bite behind his voice but instead genuine confusion. He was a little more used to how you acted on your whims by now, but still-! 

“See-saw!” You stepped aside and flourished your hand at the fixture in the playground that had caught your eye. It was a favourite game of yours, the feeling of bouncing up and down into the air while someone else on the opposite side similarly went up and down in tandem with you, alternating between who was in the air and who had their feet on the ground. A game perfect for two! 

His eyebrows creased, eyelids fluttering at you as he blinked. “And…?” 

“Let’s play, let’s play!” 

“In these??” Izumi waved down at the clothes you were both decked out in. Formal, elegant, and restricting. Entirely unsuited for playing like kids, as you’d suggested. “There is no way-” 

You place a finger to his mouth, shushing the silver-haired male and earning a comical glare from him. 

“Don’t frown so much, you’ll get wrinkles on your face!” A laugh escapes from you, your hand finding his again to drag him to the awaiting see-saw. “Here you go,” You sat him down on one end of the seesaw, patting his shoulders in satisfaction before running over to the other side to sit down. 

“How does this work, anyway?” Izumi questions, folding his arms as you hike your leg over the seesaw, holding the handlebar but not sitting down just yet. 

“You’ll see!” 

“What do y- Ahh?!” He lets out a surprised and utterly undignified screech when you plop down on your side of the see-saw, pushing your weight down on the fixture and lifting his side into the air. The male scrambles to hold onto the handlebar like you were doing, looking down at you angrily. “Give me some warning before you do that, ugh!” 

“Aha, sorry…” You said sheepishly, looking down almost immediately after you barely glimpsed his glaring pale blue eyes, ashamed. Why did you do that? Because you thought it’d be funny to scare him? You bit at your lip worriedly, hunching your shoulders. Maybe it would be best to get off this silly see-saw and head home instead of wasting any more time here… “Ah-?” 

The ground suddenly moved away from you - no, you were moving away from the ground, the board beneath you lifting up. You looked up at the other side of the see-saw, where your boyfriend was, seeing him leaning back to apply more weight to hold you up while he watched you with concern. 

Your eyes met, and Izumi’s gaze hurriedly shifted to a nonchalant one, looking as though he wasn’t worried about your reaction just a second ago. “You wanted to play, didn’t you? Get on with it already then, it’s getting late.” 

A smile returns to your face. Truly, no matter how harsh or cold your lover was, underneath all those layers and facades held a warm and gentle love for you. 

“Mhm!” You hum in response, and the creaks of the see-saw filled the air, a rhythmic harmony to the melody of your joyful giggles and his fond huffs. 

“You’re really childish, you know?... Whatever, as long as you're happy.”

[lostaurorax]

from three to five?

pairing | stucky x pregnant!reader

summary | reader finds out she’s pregnant and tells the boys but they all get suprised in the end

warnings | pregnancy and indication of smut

a/n | hi my darlings!!!!! i love stucky with all my heart and wrote this bc i thought it would be super cute! i apologize if their are any mistakes about the pregnancy thing and the ultrasound stuff because quite frankly i know absolutely NOTHING about pregnancy except the basic stuff that everyone knows. anyway i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it!! reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated <3 feel free to send in requests!!

the minute you found out you were pregnant you couldn’t wait to tell your husbands knowing how happy they would be from countless amounts of times they told you they had wanted to have kids especially with you.

after a romantic dinner that wanda and nat had  thoroughly helped you plan you had come back home to the compound eager for your boys to find out the surprise.

as you walked into the living room wanda and nat were sitting their talking

“ah your back! so how was the date!” wanda said when she noticed your presence

“it was great! we’re gonna call it a night. we’ll see you ladies in the morning.” steve said as he grabbed three water bottles from the fridge and waved to the girls

“good to hear! good night..” nat said winking at you when the boys had turned their backs to them confirming it was all set

“god my feet are killing me!” you said as you took your shoes off and continued walking down the hall to your bedroom

“yeah? change out of that dress and me and stevie will run you a bath alright doll?” bucky said placing his hand on your back as steve was twisting the handle on the door

“okay buck” you said smiling knowing that probably wasn’t going to happen

as steve flicked the light switch on his foot steps came to a halt causing bucky to bump into him

“hey wh-” bucky said before realizing why steve had stopped

their was a bunch of blue and pink balloons scattered around the room, two pregnancies tests lying on the bed with a poster board that said ‘barnes-rogers baby coming soon…’ on it

as the boys turned back to look at you to confirm if what they were seeing was a dream or not it was immediately confirmed when they saw the wide smile on your face

“suprise!!”

after neither of them said anything for a minute or two you turned to walk in front of them

“hey is something wrong?” you said as your mind was racing with scenarios in which they weren’t happy that you were pregnant

as you were about to say something else both boys wrapped their arms around you and you swore you’d never felt more safe

“nothings wrong sweetheart nothing at all. it’s just we’ve dreamed of this day for so long and we can’t believe it’s actually happening.” bucky said as you felt a warm tear hit your face from his

“we love you doll so so much, and we can’t wait to raise a baby with you.”

“yeah?” you said pulling away from the hug to look at them with red noses and tear stained eyes

“yeah” they said in sync just admiring you

it didn’t last long until you were all attacking eachother like hungry animals

the next morning you woke up with two super soldiers on top of you one with his hand on your stomach and one with his hand on your boob

you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight

as you tried slipping from beneath them to start to get ready you were stopped when weight was pressed on too you and multiple pleas were heard

“doll where are you going? it’s too early stay in bed” steve said as he nuzzled his head into your neck

“stevie we have to get ready.” you said stroking his hair through your fingers still a knotted mess from last night

“ready for what?”he said as you felt his eyebrows knit against your neck

“i have a ultrasound appointment scheduled for today.” you said knowing that would wake the both of them up

and it did like two children on christmas morning

“i’ve got breakfast!” bucky said as he kissed you on the cheek and slipped on some joggers to exit the room

“i’ll start getting ready.” steve said as he ran to the bathroom leaving you their giddy at the idea of your boys being this excited for your tiny human that wasn’t even born yet. imagining what they’d be like when it was born.

it took about two hours for you all to be ready and out of the house with a few arguments on why you shouldn’t drive and they should you ended up winning because they had no idea where the doctors office you went to was.

after about a 20 minute drive you had arrived at the doctors office checking in you all sat in the waiting room until your name was called. as you watched bucky and steve’s face all you could see was nervousness in their eyes as they looked around at all the pregnant moms and how different they all looked. some were earlier on in their trimester some were at the very end.

“you okay?” you asked them placing a hand on each of their knees

“hm yeah yeah we’re good! doing fine doll.” bucky said steve nodding in agreement

“alright we’ll their about to call my name so i wanna make sure your alright to head in their…” you said with a grin on your face

“we’re fine just a little nervous!”steve said kissing your cheek

after 5 minutes had past of you and the boys talking about baby names and you repeatedly telling them the baby would not be named ‘buckeve’ which was a name they had made up between a combination of their names your name had finally been called

“y/n?”

in usion your heads all turned to the voice and stood up

“it’s nice to see you all! please follow me!” the nurse said

you followed her to the room and listens to the instructions she gave you

“okay so your doctor is with any other patient right now but he should be too much longer so what i’m gonna have you do is sit tight for a few minutes and he’ll come in and set you up okay?”

with a nod of your head and a smile the nurse left telling all you have to enjoy the rest of your day and that she hopes everything goes well.

a knock on the door had halted your conversation with the boys

“come in!” you said

“we’ll hello y/n! how are you doing?” the doctor with the gray hair and winkled face said as he smiled at you

“hi! i’m doing well thank you! these are my husbands james and steve!” you said motioning to the men on the right of you as they waved

“ah well it’s nice to meet you! are you excited to see your baby for the first time?” he said as he started setting up his equipment

“yes very excited! a little nervous though.” steve said placing his hand on the back of your beck a gesture he would do that made you feel protected

“oh well i promise there’s nothing to be nervous about! everything will be just fine. now y/n can you pull your shirt up so i can place this cream on your stomach?” he said

“yeah of course!” you said lifting your shirt

“alright this is gonna be a litte cold just wanna warn you!” he said as he went to place the cream on your stomach

“oh yeah that’s cold!” you said as he placed the cream all over your stomach

“sorry about that! alright let me get this all set up so we can see your baby!” he said grabbing the wand part of the ultrasound machine

as the doctor got the machine working he explained to you what he was gonna be doing so you could somewhat understand what was going on.

“alright let’s see here! welp that’s your baby their on the screen! your very early on so it’s only the size of maybe a pea now but it’ll definitely grow quickly!” he said as tears filled your eyes and the boys both stared at the screen in awe

“hang on a minute..” the doctor said immediately wiping the look of joy on your face and replacing it with worry

“is something wrong sir?” bucky asked concerned

“no no nothings wrong! i just think i might’ve made a miscalculation that’s all.” he said giving any context

“and that miscalculation would be….” you said impatient

“looks like your having twins! congrats!!” he said with a massive smile on his face showing off his perfectly straight and white teeth

“twins??” bucky said in disbelief while you still couldn’t speak in utter shock and feeling like the happiest woman in the world

“oh my god…we’re gonna have twins!!” you said looking back at bucky and steve as the realization hit you.

“i’ll get these printed out and give you guys a bit of privacy. congratulations you three! these kids are so lucky to have you all.” he said as he walked out

you all sat their in shock and pure joy for what seemed to be forever before a noise was finally heard

you turned back to see bucky trying to wipe the tears falling from his eyes

“oh buck c’mere!” you said with open arms

“i’m sorry doll i’m just so happy. i never in my life would’ve thought anything like this would happen to me. this is the happiest day of my life! you both make me so happy! i just love you so much doll so so much.” he said sobbing into your neck

“i love you more bucky. i’m so proud of you.” you said rubbing his back as you mouthed ‘i’m proud of you too stevie’ to steve and he smiled knowing without you even having to tell him

as the day went on all the boys could talk about was your babies. what their names would be,their genders,how you would dress them,what their nursery would look like, just basically anything and everything.

you just admired the pure admiration on the boys faces as they talked about your children and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were.

[angelguk]

→ on my mind 02 — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 25.6k

genre: domestic!au + established relationship + fluff + smut + mild angst

warnings: slow build / oral sex (f & m receiving) / multiple smut scenes / over-stimulation / breeding kink / creampies / mentions of infertility / pregnancy is a central part of the story line / pregnancy sex / jeongguk just wants to be a good dad / i am so sorry if the editing is not up to par i tried my best / mild possessiveness / mentions of misogyny and an asshole manager

soundtracks: (they long to be) close to you, carpenters + to you, yoona & lee sang soon + someone’s shining, wisue + who knew, chloe x halle, + but i’m trying to tell you how much i love you, saevom + pretend, lee aram + when the wind blows, yoona + meet me in amsterdam, rini + she, jannabi

special thanks to: @gukkheaven for seeing the baby version of this fic <3 / @a-life-thats-next-to-normal for sharing some much needed baby info with me!

header credit @dee-ehn <3

read the first part here

The first time you buy a test, you don’t tell him.

It’s a Thursday afternoon and you arrive home first. Jeongguk had texted you that he would be late today because Namjoon needed him to work overtime on a file that was due. You had taken the rare opportunity to scurry to your local chemist and purchase a handful of pregnancy tests. You’d dumped the pink boxes on the counter, trying in vain to avoid the blatant stare of the cashier as she packaged them into a small black bag. The trek back home nerve-racking. Your heart pounding painfully against your chest, the scruff of your sneakers against the pavement the only accompaniment to the tension you felt weighing over your body. It was only when you had passed a playground, eyes skimming over the hordes of children joyously dandling from monkey bars and slipping down sliders with wide grins on their faces, did your heart momentarily calm down. Lulled by the sound of their laughter until your pulse was relaxed once more.

You could do this — it’s just a test.

The apartment is eerily silent when you click the door closed behind you. You heel your shoes off, sliding your feet into the downy slippers Jeongguk had picked up for you a while back. You dump the bag on the dining table, hands shaking as you dig for your phone in your bag. Your fingers tap on the familiar pink app on your screen and you read the text that you’ve been subtly denying for the past week. Your period is late. Sometimes you miss a day or two but a whole nine days had passed and mother nature hadn’t sent you the usual reminder that indicated that you were not with child.

For some reason, the words sent a thrill through your body. It wasn’t like you were taking precautions to avoid pregnancy - quite the opposite. Ever since Jeongguk had admitted his secret wish to you, you’d both taken every opportunity to make sure you’d get knocked up. Most of the apartment had been rechristened during those activities, particularly the couch. The moment you’d told him you wouldn’t mind carrying his child a spark of desire had reignited in Jeongguk that you hadn’t seen since you started dating five years ago.

But for some reason, nothing was working the way you’d expected it to be. With Jeongguk’s new robust sex drive, you expected to be pregnant within a month tops. Yet, your period appeared each month without fail and it hurt to see the doubt creep onto his face every time he brought you a hot water bottle to lessen the cramps wreaking havoc in your stomach. For a while, you thought you were infertile. You considered taking up the issue with your doctor but it was hard to acknowledge that you may be. That either of you may be. Not when both of you wanted this so bad.

The fact that your period had been missing for a significant amount of time in your perspective was both thrilling and alarming at the same time.

When you finally pick up one of the pregnancy tests, you take your time, reading over the instructions. Three times exactly. One-line means not pregnant, two lines indicate that you are. Not hard, right?

In the bathroom, you struggle to pee. Your hand is trembling as you hold the collection cup and your flow is unsteady despite the two bottles of water you’d chugged on the train ride home once Jeongguk told you he’d be late. Things work out, regardless of your nerves.

Once everything is done, your hands are clean and the two pregnancy tests you’d unwrapped are sitting flat on the counter of your bathroom, you fiddle with the timer app on your phone, setting it to five minutes.

Those are the longest five minutes of your life.

You leave the bathroom, unable to look before the set time, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. You can’t sit, so you pace around, slippers slapping the hardwood floorboards as you try to attempt to calm yourself down but fail miserably at it because the clock hanging in the living room is ticking too loud; it echoes in your head matching the beats of the seconds you’re mentally counting down. Outside of your apartment, someone’s shouting a passing greeting across the street, there’s the tickle of a bike bell and a gruff woof echoing from the throat of a dog. The sounds of life outside the panic bubble you’re currently in draws you to the window. You pad over, lean down to rest your elbows against the sill as your eyes take in the sight of the evening sun dipping behind the silhouettes of buildings. The sky bleeds orange and red, bright fuchsia pink and cornflower blue trailing behind their wake like silage. The view is partially obscured by murky grey clouds but beyond them, you can still spot the lavender tone the two colours create when they flux into each other.

The sight slows down your heartbeat, a sense of tranquillity washing over your body as if you’d been dipped into the ocean. It reminds you of the sea view both of you had left behind when you’d moved to Seoul four years ago. You can’t help but slip into a reverie, nose full of the ghost-like remnants of salty air, the sand you’d played in as a child a phantom caressing the soles of your feet. The sunsets in Busan were better but Seoul is where Jeongguk and you had crafted life together, even if you sometimes wished you had never left your hometown at all.

The alarm going off in the bathroom yanks you right back into your quaint little apartment. You take a deep breath and then rise. Your knees wobble as you walk to the bathroom, a sheen of sweat building in the palms of your hands. The sudden urge to just get this over with steadies your steps until you’re standing before the counter again, staring at your reflection in the mirror. There are dark bags underneath your eyes and your face carries the worries of the day. You look worn and you feel it too. Coupled with the extra pressure of trying and failing to get pregnant, there’s so much on your back right now it feels as if it’s bent over. You sigh, eyes still refusing to falter and look downwards at the results on your counter.

It takes you a moment to gather the courage to pluck up the first test.

Your breath is trapped in your throat and your eyes suddenly feel hot and wet. Your vision blurs up and your hands are shaking but even despite the tears falling down your cheeks, you can see the results.

It’s one line. Negative.

The other one reads the same and all you can do is try to remember how to breathe as you roughly wipe away your tears. Your hands are trembling as you wrap up and dispose of the two tests, shoving them into the trash before you pile more tissue on top of it, wishing you could hide from the shame you feel too. The black bag with the other tests gets tucked behind your pads in the cupboard. Jeongguk won’t question that, so it's the safest place to store it.

You head to the shower next, allowing the rushing water to sweep away the dried tear stains on your face, hoping it erases the crushing feeling of disappointment sitting on your chest too. But it doesn’t and even as you move around the kitchen to make dinner, your actions seem slow, languid in a bad way, held down by the fact that no matter what you can’t seem to get pregnant.

Jeongguk knows right away something is off.

He came home late as he said he would, pressed a kiss to your cheek and muttered a small greeting before heading to the shower. When he emerged once more in grey sweats and a worn white t-shirt, he’d plopped himself down at the dining table, gave you a quiet once over and then opened his mouth to gently say, “Your eyes are red.”

“Bad day at work,” you lie, placing a bowl of rice before him.

“Seungmin?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

You fall into a silence that should be comfortable but it isn’t. Every time you glance up Jeongguk is staring at you with a worried expression that makes your heart heavy. Even between bites of food, you can see his brain working, mulling over a way to make you feel better. Which sucks because Jeongguk shouldn’t be worrying about insignificant issues like this. He had a lot on his plate anyway. His extra hours at the office were taking a gradual toll on him. His eyes seemed hollower and he’d had to skip a couple of gym sessions so he didn’t even have his usual outlet for stress. There was a vein surfacing on his forehead and it pulsed every time he was thinking too hard about something. Like it was now. It hurt even more when you knew Jeongguk was putting all this stress on himself because he wanted to find a bigger place for his future family. The spare room you owned had long since been converted into his game room and he wasn’t about to give up that little luxury just yet. He was only taking on more responsibilities at the office because he believed that his future children deserve a place to run, play games, to just be a child. The image of the two negative tests linger before your vision and your heart breaks a little more because it feels like Jeongguk is working hard for something that’ll never become a reality.

He cleans up while you take your place on the couch. Even with the drone of the drama on the television and the clinking of dishes as Jeongguk washes up fills your apartment, you still can’t settle in and shake off the cloud that’s hanging above your head. When he does join you, Jeongguk lugs over the soft black blanket you’d whisked from Yoongi’s apartment, carrying his favourite bar of chocolate in his hands.

He shoves it in your direction, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “Here, take this.”

“Why? It’s yours.” But you clasp your fingers around the plastic wrapping, the warmth of his lips against your skin ebbing through you.

He shrugs, shifting against you so that your legs are thrown over his and the blanket covers both of your bodies. Beneath it, his large warm hand searches for yours, latching around your fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze. “Take it. You said you had a bad day and chocolate always makes you feel better, doesn’t it?”

The corners of your mouth are lifting upwards as you tear the package open. It's mint flavoured. Jeongguk always had an affinity towards sweet mint flavoured things, and the chocolate melts on your tongue with ease. Slowly, the tension within you abates, your mind vaguely focusing on the screen before you, Jeongguk’s warm firm body burning beside you. You melt into him, breaking off pieces of chocolate and nudging them against his mouth until he parts his lips and allows you to drop them inside. His tongue trails against your fingertips despite the ‘gross’ you mutter into the evening air. All he does is laugh and pull you closer, brushing another swift kiss on your cheek. You settle against him, resting your head against the curve of his shoulder before the drama takes your attention. One of the characters had made a joke and the rise of Jeongguk’s chest beneath your head as he laughs calms you down so much that you can’t help but laugh too.

The evening winds down in this manner. Jeongguk unknowingly melting away the tension that had built up within you with each soft smile and laugh that he gives you as he talks about his day over the voices of the actors on screen. You listen intently, hoping you can take away some of his stress too until you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. He gently shakes you awake, taking your hand to guide you into bed where you promptly collapse between the sheets. You can hear his footsteps as he moves around, checking the doors and switching the lights off, but your mind feels foggy and your eyes are heavy.

When he settles in beside you, shirtless and having tucked away from the semi you don’t know he’s sporting, your breaths are slow and slumber is slipping over you. His arm finds its way over your waist and his chest is plastered against your back. You’re about to fall asleep, the dark deep wonders of rest right on the edge of your vision but you’re wiggling around, slotting the curve of your ass against Jeongguk’s crotch and that’s when you instantly wake up.

His erection is nudging against your ass and you can tell he’s still awake from the rise and fall of his chest behind you. He thinks you’re still sleeping because he doesn’t say anything, just trails a finger against the curve of your hips. The touch warms you even through the fabric of your pyjamas. But you’re suddenly on edge again, the negative tests flashing before your eyes. You were going to book an appointment with the doctor soon but would it hurt to try one more time before you did so? It really wouldn’t.

You wiggle against him harder, the growing curve of his cock against you eliciting a rush of slick from your cunt. When you grind into him, Jeongguk groans, a low rumble that slips from his throat. The grip on your hip draws taut. He knows you’re awake.

“If you keep doing that, we’re going to have a problem.”

You grin, hips still pushing backwards. “What if I’m willing to solve it?”

“I wouldn’t let you.”

You halt, ass still pressed against his crotch, the smile falling from your face and your arousal rapidly dissipating. Jeongguk’s pulling away before you can say anything, rising on his elbows so that he can look at you.

“I know Seungmin isn’t the reason why you were sad today. I saw the test boxes in the bathroom.”

It’s so quiet that you can hear the rush of blood filling your head. The tears you’d thought you’d run out of, reappear instantly, dripping down your cheeks. He wipes them away with a forlorn smile before shifting to wrap you in his warm arms. Your chest shudders with every breath you take but Jeongguk holds you together, whispering words of comfort against your ear.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” He holds you a little tighter when you start to hiccup against the crook of his neck, rubbing a large hand against your back.

When you finally calm down, you pull away, cheeks wet, to find that Jeongguk’s own eyes are tinged red too.

“Were they negative?” You nod, still, a little bit choked up. But then he smiles and moves to press a tepid kiss between your eyebrows. “Stop stressing. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“Getting pregnant shouldn’t be this hard. All I have to do is open my legs.”

“Hey,” He pats your damp cheek in chastisement. “Stop talking like that. You don’t have control over your body. Don’t blame yourself for things you can’t help. For all we know, this could be my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault.” You mutter. “I just - we’ve been trying for three months now and I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“We could go get checked. Both of us.” He’s pulling you closer again. “Don’t blame yourself, baby. Please.”

“I’m trying not to,” you whisper back, falling back into the comfort of his body. Jeongguk is like a pillar of strength for you, particularly when you feel like you have none left within you. And right now you don’t. But he holds you up, his hands caressing your skin softly, pushing off the worries that plague. You fall asleep like this, eyes crusty from crying and Jeongguk’s loving gaze watching over your features.

The next day, you book an appointment and try to ignore the nervous thoughts gnawing at your conscience.

Your period comes three days later and all that does is build on to the new feeling of resentment that you were developing against your uterus.

Jeongguk buys you your favourite chocolate, keeps your supply of hot water bottles going, cook’s dinner and tells you to stop worrying.

→

The late August afternoon sun warms your back as your drag Taehyung through the lake. You’ve got your arms wrapped around his neck in a playful choke-hold and despite his wild thrushes you manage to dunk him into the tepid lake water — retribution for what he did to you earlier. He’d shoved you right into the lake from atop some boulders, leaving you shocked and with water filling your nose for most of the afternoon. Somewhere in the background, you can hear Seokjin screaming at his twins because they’re copying your actions on each other and Jimin is hiding Bora from the two homicides about to take place in broad daylight.

You let go of Taehyung when he elbows you roughly and watch him rise to the surface, face tinged rose, but a good-natured boxy grin plastered on his features.

“If Jeongguk wouldn’t be able to beat my ass, I would end you Y/N,” he says.

You roll your eyes, playfully punching his arm. “Sure you would.”

Taehyung’s grin broadens. “I’m tempted to prove you wrong but you should get the boys before they murder each other.” He says before shaking his head. The droplets that fly from his mane obscure your vision so you twist around, waddling through the water, just in time to catch Minho body slam Minjoon into the water.

“Minho! You’re going to kill your brother!” Seokjin sounds beyond distressed, so on his behalf, you swim further into the water, and pull the two boys apart only to find them grinning wickedly at each other. They had just turned five and had reached the age where morbid violence was amusing instead of alarming.

“Boys, can we find something else to play instead? You’re going to send your father to an early grave.”

“What’s a grave?” Minjoon inquires, clinging to your waist as you haul them back to shore. Taehyung’s already out, meandering back to the cabins that belonged to Jimin’s affluent family. It was his idea to have a quick weekend getaway at the lake. He insisted that the kids needed to go out and play in the wild but he wanted to get everyone out of the house. The stress from work and studies were taking a huge toll on the relations within your group. You’d seen Yoongi and Namjoon argue for the first time in a while and it had been over whether Marvel was right in killing off Tony Stark. Yoongi had nearly thrown a plate at Namjoon’s head when he insisted that Tony deserved to die. That alone instantly made you agree to Jimin’s plan. You had to pack for Jeongguk too since he was swamped with work, another reason why everyone needed this mini vacation.

The man in question is nursing a beer by the grill, a languid grin on his face as he chats with Namjoon. The smile on his lips sends a rush of affection flooding through your heart because you hadn’t seen it for a while now. What with your uterus refusing to do its duty and the workload he was dealing with; you were glad he was taking a break now. He deserved it.

“A grave is where people go and sleep for a very long time,” You carefully respond, running a hand through Minho’s wet hair. They both have Seokjin’s bright eyes and the curiosity within them slightly unnerves you. “You should go ask your dad, he can explain it better.”

They shot off at that, sprinting to their father who’d given you a grateful smile when you’d dragged them out alive. Unfortunately, he was now trying to feed his third son Chansook, who was a stubborn eater according to his wife Seoyeon and coupled with the insistent pestering from the boys you could see him slowly going mad.

Instead of helping, as you should, to diffuse the situation, you head towards the kitchen, snatching up an oversized t-shirt on the way there. Seoyeon’s dashing from place to place, checking pots and pans with the help of Jimin’s wife Bora and Namjoon’s wife Eunbi. Yoongi and Hoseok take it upon themselves to cook the near twelve-packs of ramen needed to feed all the mouths present. You leave them to it, aware that Yoongi makes his ramen in a specific manner and you’d rather stay away than help him in case you ruined it. Seoyeon shoves a chopping board and some vegetables in your direction which you gladly take, settling beside Soomi.

“Is Bora outside?” She asks, slicing up a melon.

“Jimin’s got her. She’s fine.”

“Surprised she hasn’t cried yet. She hates being away from home for long periods.”

“Three days isn’t long,” You comment.

“It is in her world,” Soomi remarks, her laugh gentle. You glance at her, taking in the new wrinkles on her face due to being a mother and working at the same time. You don’t know how she handles it, especially because Soomi inherited her father’s dramatic and clingy traits. But even despite the stress, there’s a soft smile on her lips. You know she’s thinking about her child. The whole concept of infinite love that a mother possessed for her children was still lost upon you. You loved Jeongguk to the Sun and back but the love lingering on Soomi’s face at the simple thought of her baby was entirely different. Some part of you longed to know what that felt like.

“Can I ask a question?” You carefully pose, slicing the radishes Seoyeon handed you earlier.

“Go ahead.”

“How long did it take for you and Jimin to conceive?”

“With his stamina,” she scoffs, “Not long at all. I was pregnant by the end of our honeymoon. Why are you asking?” Her eyes are on you, shining with curiosity eerily similar to the twins’ gaze.

“No particular reason. Just curious.”

“Are you pregnant?” Her blatant question has your cheeks heated and you pray the rest of the occupants in the kitchen didn’t catch what she said.

“No,” you hastily reply. “I’m not. But we are trying.”

“Oh.” Soomi’s staring at you with a gaze you can’t decipher. “You don’t want to get married first?”

“We talked about that. We’re in no rush for marriage. We’re both it for each other as far as we’re concerned and a piece of paper won’t change how we feel about it. So we’ll skip out on marriage for the time being. Our parents know how we feel about marriage too. Even if they don’t exactly agree, it’s our relationship.” You make your tone firm on purpose. This question has been posed to you too many times, so the defence in your words is natural. But the look Soomi gives you is sharp enough to crack through the thin glass that constructs your resolve. Her gaze isn’t mean, but there’s a clear judgement in her eyes. She pauses, a gentle sigh slipping from her lips before she slowly opens her mouth.

“If that’s what you want, then do it. But I have to warn you, kids do shake up the picture quite a lot. Soomi taught me so much about Jimin already, things I would never have known about him. Some of them I didn’t like and others I loved and I bet she’s shown Jimin things about me that I never knew too. It’s a lot to have a kid and you need to make sure your relationship can handle the extra stress and responsibility you’re about to put on it.” She’s not looking at you, instead focusing on tying up her dark locks in a neat bun, but her last words linger in your head. “Don’t do something that might push you further away from each other. You love Jeongguk, but will you love him as a father when he messes up? Because he will. You’ll mess up a lot too. Parenting is one big learning curve that never stops curving. Even if you feel ready, Y/N, your relationship might not be.”

You move to interrupt her, a rebuttal resting on your tongue. But Soomi halts it, shooting you a glance that makes your heart halt.

“Have you thought about the pregnancy too? How your body will change? The mood swings, the morning sickness? How crappy you are going to feel? And for nine months too. That’s a lengthy time. Even with Soomi I was counting down the days until I hit the next week. I wanted it over and done with so bad if I’m being honest with you. Every pregnancy is different; I understand that — you might even be lucky and have a great one. But most aren’t a walk in the park. It’s a big commitment to make, with a lot of serious risks. Not that I want you to reconsider your choice, I just think you really need to think it through. Weigh the reasons you want this. You may want a kid right now but are you in the space to have one in nine months? That’s just something to keep in mind, Y/N. It’s not an easy thing, pregnancy or parenting.” She’s staring at you hard now, gaze earnest. “I just want you to consider that. You should talk to Jeongguk about it.”

You mumble a noise of agreement, your heart suddenly heavy in your chest. There’s a numbness that creeps from there, in the pit of darkness that now consumes the light that had once resided within you. You cut the ingredients they had you absentmindedly, Soomi’s words ringing in your head.

Even when dinner is set, memories and laughter have been cast across the table and everyone’s had their fill, you’re still mulling over Soomi’s advice. She was right, you hadn’t thought about the toll a child would take on the connection between you and Jeongguk. Or on you. You’d only focused on the happy little moments that would await you as new parents instead of the rough, ugly parts of the journey. There was a sudden panic gripping your soul instead of the familiar warmth you’d become accustomed to when you thought about having a child. Jeongguk had sensed there was something off with you too, because when you climbed into the sheets that night he’d wrapped you in a tight embrace, carefully resting your head upon his upper arm.

“Care to share what’s on your mind?” His voice is a whisper in the dead of the night, breath warming your forehead.

“It's nothing really. Just thinking about… the whole pregnancy thing?”

His body tenses. “Oh... The doctor said we’re fine though. Both healthy and fertile. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“No. Not that,” you retort, twisting in his arms. You tear yourself away, rising upright, the blanket falling from your bare shoulders. Jeongguk stares at you, eyes wide open and full of alarm. “Jeongguk.” There’s a tremor in your voice. “Do you — do you really think we’re ready for kids? I still work under a shitty manager. We live in a small apartment. You’re — you’re working so hard it’s practically killing you. We’re not even married—”

“Quit your job.” He says it firmly, rising up beside you. There’s a fire in his eyes that riles you further into the panic that’s overwhelming you.

“What are you even suggesting? I quit my job? So what? You can continue working yourself to the bone? Are you even thinking?”

“I am!” He slams back. “You hate your job, so quit! You’re talented and skilled and you deserve to work at a company that appreciates you! And where is this coming from? You don’t want to have kids anymore?” His voice faltering at the end, pandering out into the air that’s filled with tension.

“No. I — I want to Jeongguk. I just don’t know if this is the right time. There’s so much that’s not settled, we shouldn’t be straining ourselves any further.” Your throat is thick and your head is hot, unshed tears brimming within your eyes. He reaches out for your hand, rough large palms enclosing your own. You can’t look at him, staring hard at the wall instead, trying to swallow your sadness. “Maybe I’m not getting pregnant for a reason.”

“Don’t say that.” His voice cracks. “If you want to wait, that’s fine. Just know that you’re the only person I ever want to take that step with. Whether we’re married or not. I love you. I love you so much. I don’t want you to be sad about something that’s meant to make you happy. We can stop trying.” There’s a hand on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the hot tears that you weren't even aware of. When you finally look up, there’s pain glimmering behind his brown eyes and it shatters your heart into thousands of little shards.

He holds you as you cry, rocking your huddled figure lightly. His shirt is drenched in your sorrow, a growing wet stain spreading over his chest. There are hiccups stuck in your throat when you finally draw away, eyes hot and puffy. There’s matching wet stains on his own red cheeks. You brush them away, staring into his red eyes, hoping he can feel how sorry you are for giving him hope that his deepest desire could come true and then snatching it right back,

When he kisses you, there’s silent tears still streaming down your cheeks. It’s slow, gentle. The words that are stuck in his throat are communicated through this kiss. Like he needs you to know it’s okay. Your worries are valid and even though he’s hurt, he still loves you. Still needs you. And you kiss him back with the same intent, your heart aching in your chest because Jeongguk had been so happy when you’d agreed to start a family with him. A life that wasn’t just about the two of you as individuals, it would have been about the two of you as one. But that’s no longer a reality, merely a castle in the sky now.

The pillow is soft beneath the dip of your head. Jeongguk’s above you and you hold onto him like you’re afraid you might lose him, your mouths still attached. You’re terrified this might push him away, that he might find someone else that can give him what he really wants. Someone who will trust his intentions instead of doubting him.

He pulls away, eyes glossy, a look in them that tells you he can feel the fear in your kiss, the desperation to keep him closer. “I’m here.” His voice is thick, still heavy with heartbreak. “You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere.”

The urge to prove that makes your fingertips twitch. You’re yanking at the hem of his shirt, your heartbeat pulsing in your throat. It comes off immediately, followed by his shorts and your own t-shirt. He’s not hard but there’s a sizable bulge nudging against your clothed core. You pull him down, revelling in the way he caves you in, and kiss him until he’s grinding himself against you, little gasps spilling from his swollen lips. Your fingers are tangled in his long hair and even though you’re hurting your heart settles. This is yours. No matter what happens, this belongs to you.

Jeongguk must feel the same because he’s coaxing a dark bruise on your neck, the need to display his love for you making his tongue swoop across your sensitive skin, teeth nipping when a rush of desire slithers down his back. His hips move harder now and he’s leaking in his boxers, the damp stain of the fabric matching the one on your panties. The air still feels heavy, but your joined pants now fill it. There’s a hand on your hip, pinning you down to the bed and at some point Jeongguk had kicked the sheets to the floor. You’re at his mercy, taking the rough grind of his crotch against your own. There’s a sting on your clit from the material rubbing you the wrong way, so you gently push him off, slipping off your underwear. The cool air hits your slick folds, making you feel more exposed and vulnerable than you’ve ever felt before. He doesn’t say anything, just slips down your body, draping your legs over his shoulder, his warmth breath grazing your thighs.

The first lick of his tongue against you has your toes curling. You watch him spread you apart, firm tongue dipping into hole, toying with it before sliding back up to your clit. When his lips latch onto it, sucking it hard, your back lurches off the bed. The noises that fall from your mouth spur him on, tongue moving quickly now, alternating between precise quick licks and slower ones, tongue spread against your pussy. You take it, staring at him as he devours you. The usual fire you’d become accustomed to during sex doused from his eyes, the brown softer now, almost calm. But there’s an urgency in the way he eats you out, your slick coating his lips, as his tongue flicks against your clit.

It’s hard not to grind against his face, but you’re still holding yourself back, despite the rush of pleasure that’s creeping into every muscle, every nerve and piling in your gut. When his tongue swirls around your clit, before dragging down your folds and dips inside you hard, that resolve you were desperately clinging on snaps. You roll your hips against his mouth, back arched and your head pushing into the pillows. The knot in your gut is tight. You’re close, eyes closing involuntarily and your thighs twitching under the firm grasp of his hands. Jeongguk can tell because his tongue is against your clit once more, flicking hard, coaxing the orgasm out of you. You want to push his head away, the need to snap your legs closed making your thighs tense but he doesn’t care, fucking your clit with his mouth until you unravel beneath him.

It hits you slowly and then all at once. A build-up that has your squirming beneath him, trying to get away, then your muscles lock. Mouth wide open and words falling from your throat that you can’t decipher because there’s blood rushing in your ears. Your walls clench around nothing and you wish he’d slipped in a finger or two but then you glance down, Jeongguk still lapping at your pussy with vigour, his eyes on you and your whole body just dissolves. Your bones feel like they’re melting into each other, eyelids heavy but you force them open and lock them onto his. When you finally muster the strength, you push his head away and drag him up to you, slotting your lips together. He tastes like you, and you’re fully aware of his erection, the bulge grazing against your sensitive nub.

He cups one of your breasts as you kiss, his thumb brushing against your hard nipple. You jolt, a sudden rush of wetness gushing from your cunt. Your hands trail down his body without thought, gingerly digging into the band of his boxers but then he’s pulling away, mouth latching onto your nipple and your brain short wires for a second. The drag of his tongue against your chest makes your gut feel strange, another knot settling despite the orgasm you had moments ago.

He comes up, mouth shiny with your slick and your chest heaving beneath him as he stares at you in a way that makes your heart seize. “I love you too.” It hits you then, what you’d been repeating when he was going down on you. You said you loved him. And it’s true - you do. You love him so much it hurts sometimes. It’s the most overwhelming, intense emotion you’d ever felt. It makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode sometimes. And even though you’re not sure you can give Jeongguk what he wants anymore, those words lessen the worry and guilt you feel. He loves you. That’s all that matters.

His boxers find their way to the ground when your lips latch onto each other again and then he’s guiding himself into you, groaning against your mouth as you squeeze down on him. It’s slow, his hips rising and falling onto yours in a steady rhythm, cock stretching you out. It feels so good and you let go now, moaning into his ear as your hands settle on his hips urging him into you, faster and harder. Jeongguk complies, your name stuck on his lips as he fucks you into the mattress, the curve in his stomach telling him he’s close. You clench around him, loving the way Jeongguk feels buried inside you, filling you up like no one else can. You’re tight and wet and he can’t help but lift your hips, grasping the back of your thighs so that he can pound into you the way he wants too. He’s hitting deeper now, the curve of his cock rubbing against that part of you that has delicious tingles vibrating through your body. It’s heady, the way he fucks you. You can feel him twitching, thrusts in precise, the need to cum driving his hips. When he moves to pull away, you push his hips back down.

“I — oh,” He says, breathless when you squeeze around him, ribbed velvet walls clenching on his veiny cock. “I’m close.”

“Inside,” you murmur, “Cum inside.”

He stares at you, eyes glimmering. But his hips come slamming back down hard and he fucks you like he never wants to leave your cunt. It’s exactly what you want and you’re not worried. After three months of trying what could happen now? So you let him have his way with you, his harsh thrusts bruising your hips. His own falter against you, warm cum spilling inside. Jeongguk’s panting beside your ear, your sweaty skin sticking together. His hair is dishevelled, ruined and damp. But there’s a soft smile on his face and when he pulls out, cum making your thighs feel grimy. He pecks your nose gently. It makes your heart calm. Then he rises, moving to the bathroom and returning with a wet cloth. He cleans you up in silence but it’s content, not tense. Your eyes are closed when he slips into bed again, the mattress dipping under the weight of his knee. He drags the sheets he’d plucked from the floor over your body and you burrow into his side, the thrumming of his heart in his chest a serene euphony to your ears. You fall asleep like this, the melancholy that was weighing over your heart temporarily subsided.  

→

There’s a faint ding from your phone. You pick it up, sliding down the notification bar to see a reminder from your period app. You’re three days late. You choose to ignore it, tossing the phone back onto your desk because there’s a file you urgently need to complete. Seungmin’s been breathing down your neck about it. Coupled with the fact that Jeongguk’s birthday is next week and you’re still trying to plan his party out, your brain felt like it was about to combust. Your period is probably late because you were stressed. Jeongguk had been swamped with work too and after the mini holiday at the lake house you’d barely seen him. So obviously, it’s stress.

You leave the office late, putting down a reminder to book an appointment with your doctor in your notes app as you exit the building. You’d been mulling over going on birth control for a while now. It seemed like the most logical approach. Partially because you’d grown accustomed to feeling Jeongguk’s cum inside you and also because you thought it was better to wait a little bit until you were both more settled and ready for kids. Some part of you still longed to have them now but Soomi’s words haunted your thoughts every time the idea popped into your head. You had no doubt that you loved Jeongguk but the negatives of parenting heavily clouded over the pleasant scenarios you’d imagined.

The apartment is empty when you get home. You shower first and then head to the kitchen, your phone in your hand. There’s a text from Jeongguk telling you he’ll be late. He’s close to a promotion thanks to all his hard efforts even if it means you spend less and less time together. You settle on starting dinner, so that he’ll have something warm to eat when he comes home. He was notoriously bad at remembering to eat enough while working late.

When you’ve finished cooking, you settle into the couch, laptop open on some random show so that you have background noise as you eat. But it’s not enough to entertain you and you find yourself swiping through your phone. You scroll through Instagram feed, pausing over a picture of Yoona’s new-born. He’s a cute baby even with all the wrinkles and scrunched up face. His name is Jonghyun and Yoona hadn’t been able to stop talking about him. Baby this, baby that. It was cute, her unadulterated love for her child. Even when he puked over everything and refused to sleep.

Your heart feels heavy now, ears focused on the incessant ticking of the clock instead of the chattering of the actors on your screen. The memory of your first time taking a test comes stinging back hard. How nervous you were, how disappointed you felt when it was negative. It all seemed like wishful thinking now but something about it had you sitting upright, empty bowl discarded on the coffee table and your laptop nearly tipping onto the floor. You open the app again, stare at the three days’ late notification and then run to the bathroom.

The tests are still packed in the black paper bag. Your rummage through it, yanking out three in your trembling fingers tips. For some reason, it’s easier this time. You pee, dip them in the cup and leave them lying horizontally on the bathroom counter in what feels like seconds. Your heart pounds every step of the way. There’s no way you’re pregnant. It wouldn’t make any sense. Your legs jitter when you sit back onto the couch and everything feels like it’s going in slow motion. Or are you just moving really fast? You can’t tell, setting a timer on your phone before pressing your palm against your heart, trying to calm the drumming against your ribs. Time goes quickly and there’s a familiar buzzing signifying that your results are ready. You can’t walk. You don’t want to walk. It would be better not to know. But what’s the harm in knowing when you already know they’re negative. It’s just a confirmation. You’re not pregnant.

When you finally rise, your breath is shaky and your legs feel like logs as you drag yourself to the bathroom. The counter beckons you towards the tests, bright white light shining down upon them.

Two lines. On all three tests. Positive.

You can’t breathe. Your hands are shaking so much and suddenly the floor feels closer than it should. Your heart threatens to burst from your chest and there’s blood roaring in your head. You steady yourself against the sink, chest heaving beneath the loose shirt that you're sure belongs to Jeongguk. It feels surreal. The harsh light of your bathroom is hurting your eyes but you keep staring at the tests, the new information sinking in slowly. Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of your stomach, how the band of your underwear digs into the flesh of your hips. You can’t think about anything else because it hits you then. What those tests mean apart from the positive two lines, you keep blinking at.

Pregnant. You’re pregnant.

→

The first person you call isn't Jeongguk. It isn't your mother either or Yoona.

It's Soomi.

She picks up on the fourth ring, mumbling a hello that you struggle to hear over the sound of Bora whining in the background.

“Bora! Sit down!” Soomi’s not focused on your conversation yet. Her voice is tight, clear irritation radiating through her words. Something hits the floor and there’s a shrill echo of Bora’s cries ringing through the line. Soomi sighs heavily. “Give me a second. I’ll call you back.” And then the line goes dead.

Is that your future? Is that what you really want?

For some reason you’re crying. There’s a hot heaviness in your eyes that throbs dully in your skull, the coming of a headache. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, the lump in your throat making it hard for you to speak. Why did you even call Soomi in the first place? You can’t remember why the panic you’d felt had driven you to dialling her number. Especially when she planted that seed of doubt in your head in the first place.

When she rings again, you’re tempted to decline the call. Soomi would even question why you’re telling her first instead of your mother or Jeongguk. But you don’t know what else to do right now. You can’t just throw all the tests away and act like this isn’t happening. There’s a being developing inside you right now. A person that is both you and Jeongguk. And quite frankly you’re terrified.

“Hey, sorry for that. Bora’s started throwing tantrums now. I just had to talk to her.” She sounds exhausted.

You nod, realizing a second later she can’t see you. “Uh, yeah.” Your throat is clogged. “It’s fine, don't worry.”

“How are you then?” There’s a click of a door closing behind her.

“Um…” You can’t say it out loud, the words crawling back down your throat. Soomi’s quiet down the line, like she can feel the fear in your hesitation.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you alright?”

You still can say anything, a tremble in your fingers that you can’t control. “I’m…” She waits, patient, and you know her eyebrows are furrowed together like they usually do when she’s concerned.

Wouldn’t it be easier to just say it all at once? Rip it off like a bandage? You settle for that, forcing the rushed sentence out of your mouth. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?” You open your mouth again but Soomi beats you to it. “You’re pregnant?” There’s an incredulity there like she’s still trying to process what you’d said. At least you are in the same boat.

“Yes,” You reply, finally stepping out of the bathroom. The tests are shoved far into the back of the cupboard. You’d taken care to store the boxes away too instead of dumping them into the trash. But now you long to sit, and the couch seems incredibly inviting. It’s weird to crawl under the blanket, knees curled into your stomach. There’s a life blossoming there. A whole life.

“Oh my god! Congratulations!” She’s practically vibrating down the line and her happiness has you pausing. Why is someone else more excited for your pregnancy than you? “How far along are you? Does Jeongguk know yet? I’m so happy for you!”

“...I don’t know how far along I am. I just found out.” Your voice is monotone in comparison to her bubbly questions. She catches on quickly, falling silent at the lack of joy in your tone.

“Oh. Are you alright? Weren’t you trying for kids?” Now she’s confused, hesitant to be happy when you’re not. The problem is, there’s a small part of you that’s elated. Finally, after all that time, here’s what you wanted. Handed to you on a silver platter. But you’re too wary of it all right now. There’s ominousness creeping into your beautiful vision of a family, staining the picture dark. What if this rips you apart? What if it makes you hate Jeongguk? What if this is the wrong time? What if you’re a shit mother? There’s too much worry looming over parenthood. And it’s sitting on your shoulders.

The tears reappear, dripping down your cheeks fast.

“We stopped,” You croak out.

“Oh.” Soomi’s silence leaves your head throbbing. You know why you called. For reassurance. Someone needs to tell you it’s going to be okay. Not Yoona. Not Jeongguk. Not your mother. Soomi was the only one who could provide the reassurance you desperately needed. “Y/N, are you happy?” She asks a heartbeat later, like she knows your thoughts.

You hiccup. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel or what to do.”

There’s a small hum from her lips. “Okay. How about you get a glass of water first. Anything you want to drink.” She’s right. Your hiccups keep interrupting her and they’re uncomfortable. You leave the phone on the couch, returning after you’d chugged some water. “You’re back,” She sounds relieved, sighing through the line. You mumble a sound of affirmation, digging your cold feet under the fluffy blanket. “Remember what I said about parenthood?”

“Yes.” Of course you do, you hadn’t forgotten a word she’d said.

“I know I mentioned all the negative things but I don’t want you to lose sight of all the little wonderful things. Having a child is both a blessing and a nightmare — and I know it sounds hypocritical of me to be talking about all the nice things that come with being a parent when I just had an argument with my daughter, but I promise you, there’s so many moments that you’ll cherish during this part of your life. It’ll change a lot, some for the worse, some for the better. But it’s worth it. So worth it.”

You stay silent, shuffling in the cushions. There’s an urge to touch your stomach and you give into it, feeling the warm skin beneath your palm that’s going to stretch out, making room for the child within you.

“You know,” Soomi continues, a waver in her voice. “I cried the first time Bora could walk without support from either of us. She wasn’t that big and I was so proud of her but it felt like my baby was getting too old already. And now I can hardly get her to sit down.” She laughs softly. The memory she’s shared warms you. You can see it now, the tiny little feet, the unsure steps. “You know that’s waiting for you, right? With Jeongguk’s energy, that kid will never be able to stay still.”

And then you’re smiling, an easy one that tugs at the corners of your mouth. The pads of your fingertips trail along your stomach. “He’ll be so happy,” You murmur. There’s not even a slight bump but you already feel different, now that you’re aware.

“I know he will. I saw him staring at all the kids when we were at the lake house. He really wanted this.”

You hum again, but the mention of the lake house makes you heart break. “I told him I wanted to stop trying then.”

“Really? Why? If I may ask.”

You want to say it’s because of her, but you bite your tongue. Soomi may be a bit harsh sometimes but she was a sweet person and didn’t need to have that held over her head. “Just rethought it.” You settle for that instead. “Wasn’t sure if I was ready for parenthood just yet.” She’s quiet, like she can tell it was because of her.

“Are you happy, Y/N?” She asks again, not addressing the elephant in the room

You pause to think about her question. Really think about it. Jeongguk would be ecstatic. Over the damn moon. Yoona’s been nudging you to join her in this next stage of life and your parents would be overjoyed too. And you? What are you feeling?

“I’m happy.” There’s a sense of surety there. No matter what happens, you longed for this just as much as Jeongguk has. It’s a blessing. Even if it’s hard at the end of it all, it’s worth it. “I’m really happy.”

Soomi’s voice has a lilt in it. “I’m glad for you. You know it’s going to be okay. Jeongguk loves you too much to ever let either of you go.”

“I know,” You mumble, gaze on the door. “Do me a favour, don’t tell anyone yet.”

“Of course! My mouth is shut. Call me if you need anything, love. I need to check on Bora before she puts herself in danger.”

“Hmm, alright. I’ll call. And thank you Soomi.” You’re warm all over, skin buzzing with an emotion you can decipher.

“Anytime. I need to run. If you need a good doctor, I can refer you to one!”

“Thanks, I’ll let you know. Bye Soomi.”

It settles in when the line cuts, the feeling in your bones seeping into every limb. You are pregnant. There’s a miniature version of you and Jeongguk sitting inside your uterus. Evidence of your devotion to each other. Your love. You can’t stop touching your stomach beneath the safety of the blanket, the sheer wonder of it all still lost on you. Then Jeongguk is pushing the door open, and your hand drops from your abdomen. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, tie loosely pulled from its knot and there’s a glow in his brown eyes. You haven't seen them shine like that in months.

He toes his shoes fast and then he’s launching into the living room, a grin on his face that reaches your heart.

“Hello, my love. What’s got you so happy?" You tentatively ask. Jeongguk doesn’t reply, instead tackling you into the couch, firm arms wrapping around you. He holds you tight, this face buried into the hollow of your neck. You can feel his smile on your skin and your heart keeps fluttering. A wild butterfly caged in your chest.

“I got the promotion.” The alcohol reaches your nose then, remnants of his celebration still on his tongue. The words you want to share dance on your own tongue. But you keep them in check. Not now. You know when you’ll tell him. Soon, but not now.

“Really! I’m so proud of you. You deserve it, baby. You’ve worked hard.” You say into the tuft of his dark hair. He sighs against you, heart drumming against your chest. Content. “Let me warm your dinner. I’ll spoil you tonight.”

“I can think of other ways you can spoil me,” He grins, shifting so he can cup your chin, gently pulling you closer. You give in because you long to kiss him too. Have the surety of his warm mouth against yours, feel that love echo when you slip your tongue against his. He tastes like soju. But you brush it off, it’s probably not bad for the baby anyway. It’s not like you can tell him to stop and google whether this is safe for you. He’ll ask and you’re not ready to share this with him just yet. So you let Jeongguk push you onto the couch, mouth still latched onto yours. It’s easy to let go, lose yourself in his touch for a bit. Because it’s Jeongguk. The love of your life, the person who keeps you grounded, your best friend, and now the father of your child.

→

Soomi keeps an eye out for you at the party. She quietly orders virgins with you and the only person who seems to catch on is Jimin who keeps staring at her stomach with fear. But no one else is concerned, too busy exchanging stories over the table, their glasses clinking every once in a while. Taehyung keeps the liquor flowing, racking up a bill that’s going to bite your wallet. But you’ll let it slide for tonight — after all it is Jeongguk’s birthday.

The man in question is glowing, a never ending smile gracing his cheeks. The promotion at work came at the perfect time. He’s on a high, radiating pure unadulterated happiness. His joy spills over onto you and you can’t help but stay beside his side all night, eyes locked on his bright face. The laughter of your friends feeds the love blossoming in your heart and it positively combusts with joy when that sheepish smile creeps onto his face when everyone sings to him ‘happy birthday’. You leave the restaurant late; stories still being shared in the parking lot despite your friends halfway into their cars. Soomi sends you a wink as you carry Jeongguk towards the car and you catch the suspicious glance Jimin sends the two of you. They’ll have an interesting discussion later, you bet.

Jeongguk lets you drive, still woozy from the shots Taehyung urged down his throat. He doesn’t question that you hadn’t drank anything. You’d had a few bouts of morning sickness since you’d found out so avoiding alcohol in this situation was logical. Jeongguk thinks you’ve got a stomach bug. He accepted that explanation so easily, not remembering the last time you’d had unprotected sex. The ride home is content and quiet, Jeongguk cuddled within himself in that passenger seat. He’s beyond happy and it’s evident in the fond gentle glances he’s giving you. You pretend to not notice them, vibrating hard in your seat from the nerves wreaking havoc in your guts. Your fingers tap incessantly on the driving wheel, an accompaniment to the drumming of your heart.

You’ll tell him tonight.

The package is already at home, hidden in your underwear drawer. It's simple enough. A white ribbon tied neatly over the thin velvet black box and within it a positive pregnancy test, placed neatly inside a plastic zip bag, the cap on the tip on.

You’d thought about how you wanted to tell him over and over again but this seemed like the best idea. It’s not extravagant or dramatic and yet, for some reason you’re still so nervous.

When you kill the engine, your car now nearly slotted in the underground packing of your apartment, the silence is replaced by your rapid heartbeat. You turn to find Jeongguk staring at you, doe like eyes glimmering in the harsh glow on the parking lot lights. His mouth is turned upwards, cheeks flush from the alcohol in his system. Before you can say anything, distract yourself from your nerves, Jeongguk’s tugging off his seatbelt and leaning into your space, mouth moving onto yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that has you buzzing like you’re a teenager again, falling in love for the first time. He keeps a warm palm on the nape of your neck, deft fingers gently pressing into the sensitive skin there. You can’t help but curve into his caress, moaning quietly against his warm lips. When he pulls away you move to chase for it. He stops you by pecking your nose, leaving you blinking at him, hands clenched in your lap.

“Thank you for tonight. I love you,” Jeongguk murmurs against your forehead, fingers weaving towards your own seatbelt. He unbuckles you quickly, hands now on your waist as he urges you into his lap. You clamber on top of him, mindful of the gears that hit your knees. It takes a while to settle but when you do Jeongguk holds you to his chest, fingers running along your side. Your heartbeat is in your stomach now and you long to blurt it out. He catches your mouth against his before you can say anything, tongue coaxing you open. You kiss because if you try and reply to his statement now you’ll end up crying.  You don’t know how long to stay like this, making out in the basement of your apartment building like teenagers trying to hide from prying eyes. It’s nice until your hip starts to hurt from the uncomfortable position.

“Let’s go inside. I have a present for you.” You’re breathless in his arms, mouth wet from his lips against you. Jeongguk quirks an eye at that, shifting so that his crotch brushes against your stomach.

“Really? What kind of present?” He asks it slyly, hips rolling against you. You reward his bluntness with a smack on his shoulder, before opening the car door. “Ow! You can’t hit me, it’s my birthday.”

“Hurry up or you won’t get your present,” you reply, slipping off of his lap.

“Not far.” He whines, but he gets out anyway, shutting the door behind him.

“I don’t care.” You say, smiling back at him. “It’s a good one I promise.”

The questions start there and Jeongguk doesn’t stray far from you as you head towards your apartment. He keeps a palm pressed against the small of your back, pulling away only to give you space to open the door. Inside he latches himself onto you again, dropping kisses along your neck until you gently push him on to the couch.

“Wait here. Let me get the present.” He stares after your retreating figure when you head for the bedroom, curiosity making him finally stay silent. You return with a small black box and his mind starts guessing. A tie? The box isn’t big enough. A toy? What toy is that small? A pen? Why would you give him a pen?

He accepts the box cautiously, fingers immediately tugging at the white ribbon knot. He can feel your eyes on him as his fingers close around the lid. It makes him pause, gaze flickering towards your face because he isn’t sure what this is at all. Then he yanks the lid off, vision landing on the object within the box.

It takes him a moment to realise it’s a pregnancy test.

“Are you serious?” His hands are quivering but he plucks up the plastic bag that contains it anyway, dropping the box to the ground. His eyes are on you and there’s tears welling within your own. Jeongguk’s head feels hot and his chest is too small, heart widely slamming into his ribs. “Are you actually serious? You’re pregnant? You’re pregnant!” The smile that breaks onto his face makes you laugh with joy and all you can do is nod your head. Jeongguk moves so fast from the couch, wrapping his arms around in. Your chests are pressed against each other, hearts communicating through rapid thumping. He keeps murmuring it against your ear, like he can’t believe just yet.

“You’re actually pregnant. Oh my god. We’re having a baby.” He’s trembling in your arms and when he pulls away to look at you, you hold him steady. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes your heart stop and then he’s kissing you. It’s soft and sweet but there’s an urgency with every press of his lips against yours, one that you feel too. You long to have him closer, fingertips already digging into the fabric of his shirt. It should be off on the floor right now. Jeongguk groans into your mouth when your hands slip underneath the fabric. He’s practically levitating right now. It’s impossible for him to get any happier. And then a thought hits him so hard he’s left breathless when he pulls away from your lips.

“I’m going to be a father? Holy shit — I — you’re actually pregnant?”

“Yes, Jeongguk.” The shock on his face makes you giddy. You gesture to the test still clutched in his hand. “I really am.” You catch the wonder that whispers in his eyes when he glances at the test once more.  And then he’s on you, hands settling on your waist as he kisses you like you’re oxygen and he’s drowning. His erection keeps nudging against your stomach and the movement has you dripping instantly, panties sticking to your core. When you naturally roll against him, you don’t expect Jeongguk to pull away.

“What? What’s wrong?” He swipes his tongue over his rose lips, looking abashed. His eyes are still glued to your stomach.

“Shit — sorry. I didn’t mean to rub against you like that.”

You blink at him. Hard. Was the man who literally fucked a baby into you apologising for rubbing his erection against you? Really?

“Jeongguk,” You begin, attempting to sound patient. “Are you not going to sleep with me this whole pregnancy?”

“Can we do that though? Have sex? It won’t put the baby at risk?” He’s genuinely concerned, a hand coming out to brush against your tummy.

“I’ll be fine, Jeongguk. The baby’s only five weeks anyway.”

“You sure?” The warmth of his hand against you has you radiating, glowing bright like a star in the middle of the dark galaxy. You try not to preen under his attention, but the concern colouring his honey eyes makes your heart ache with fondness.

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” You try to hide that emotion with a nonchalant roll of your eyes. He notes it with a gentle scoff, the palm on your hand stills though.

The firmness in his voice makes your cheeks warm. But then he glances at you again. “You’re not tired? You don’t want to sleep?”

“Jeongguk, I suggest you take advantage of my libido before it disappears. You’ve already put a baby in me, what’s stopping you now?” He must read the irritation in your voice well because he stops being coy and settles a hand on your hip to pull you closer.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” He murmurs against your ear before easily lifting you up. The grin tugging at your lips is blissful, the feeling of Jeongguk’s sturdy arms guiding you to your bedroom licking at the flame in your core. You cling onto him, giggling in time with his slippers faintly pattering against the floorboards. You don’t know how he flicks on the lights in the room but he does so without letting you go, the smile curving at his own lips pressed against your chest.

Your back touches the mattress gently, the act tender in itself. The look Jeongguk gives you makes your heart flutter, a soft warmth building in your gut has his hands wander across along your body, pausing at your waist which he clutches firmly. He fits perfectly between your spread legs, the silk dress you'd donned for tonight hitched up your thighs, revealing spans of skin that Jeongguk keeps staring at. His eyes roam over your body, glittering in a manner that makes your fingers itch to close the distance between your bodies. You can't help but stare at back him, a stupid grin on your lips because this is really all yours. He's yours and you love him. And he loves being yours too. You can tell it by the way Jeongguk leans down, slotting his lips against yours, his body pressed firmly into you. The twitch of his clothed cock against your core has you groaning into his mouth, the sparks that journey across your skin from every slight touch he gives your body intoxicating. Your hands are on him a beat later, slipping into his soft brown curls. When your nails scrap against the nape of his neck Jeongguk shivers, a minute movement that has his hips driving harder into yours. The grip that lands on your bare thighs triggers an arch in your back, lining you perfectly against him. There hasn't been an exchange of words yet but you can feel it in every roll of his hips, in the way his lips slip down to your neck, painting purple and blue marks along your skin and in the way he glances at you when he finally pulls away, petal lips bruised and a glaze in his honey eyes that makes you want to do dangerous things.

"I love you." There's another kiss on your lips. His hands are in your underwear, fingertips toying with your wet folds. "I love you so much. So much." Another kiss and an expert flick against your clit. You think your heart might burst. It feels too full of adoration, bruising your ribs with every erratic thump inside of your chest. You just tug him closer, directing his mouth towards yours again and kissing him hard enough to leave a print of your ardour for him on his lips for eternity.

"I love you too." You mumble it into the air, the sentence soft and warm, containing all the adoration you feel towards him. Jeongguk beams, brighter than the sun. Your love for him blinds you but you don't mind it. No one has ever made you as happy as Jeongguk has. No one has ever made you feel like Jeongguk has. You love him so much that it hurts. And you know he loves you just as much too.

It comes easy, the way your clothes fall off your body as he kisses you. Suddenly your bare bodies in a bed, the desperation in your touches heady. He leaves you breathless when he finally settles himself between your legs. The first lick of his tongue against your dripping core has your hands balling into the sheets. Jeongguk doesn't wait for you to register the feeling of his mouth against your cunt. He hikes your legs over his shoulders, tongue slipping deep into your cunt. You jolt from the intrusion but Jeongguk pins you down, grip firm as he forces you to take every deft swipe of his tongue against your pussy. He knows how to unravel you, and he does so quickly, not holding back anything as he licks you open, groaning deep into your cunt. It's the little sighs that do you in, the mumbles of praise that he murmurs into you that spark something in your gut.

"Jeongguk." It's hitting you fast, a tremble in your thighs that you can't control spreading warmth throughout your body.

He hums, parting from your cunt with his mouth covered in your need. It gives you a moment to breathe, but then he plants a kiss on your folds and you feel your brain melt into mush. "You taste so good," Jeongguk murmurs, before swirling his tongue around your clit - a skilled motion that elicits a rush of slick from your core. "So fucking good," he reiterates, despite you protesting squirms, the hands on your hip unforgiving. And then his tongue is back inside of you, fucking you open with a vigour that leaves you heady. There's nothing that can stop your fingers slipping into his hair, nails scraping his scalp with how hard you grip at the locks on his head. Your hips rise subconsciously, grinding his face into your cunt and slipping his tongue deeper and deeper until you feel it snap. He reads your body too well, the heave in your chest enough indication that your high is hitting you. And just before it does, his tongue is on your clit, licking at the sensitive bud the way he knows you like it. It happens all at once, a heat bursting through your system and your thighs suddenly begging to be clamped shut. But Jeongguk keeps them open, laving at your core as you shudder beneath him, vision blank and your nerves tingling with pleasure.

The waves barely subside, but you force your eyes to focus, the gentle press of Jeongguk's lips on your cunt making your toes curl. When you glance down, gaze floating over Jeongguk finally departing from between your legs, your heart bursts. His face is flushed rouge, a pretty tint over his golden skin, and his curls are tumbling into his face mussed from your fingertips racking through his hair. Even from here you can see how hard he is, straining against the fabric of his boxers, the print of his cock reigniting a fire in your gut that blazes through your nerves straight to your core. He notes the direction of your gaze with a loop-sided grin before he's descending onto you, trapping you within his sturdy arms. His mouth is on yours a second later, tongue slipping against yours. The groan that melts down your throat has your heart thumping, and your hands travel down his back, yanking him down until his crotch is pressed right against your own. You like the way you taste on his tongue, and it shows by how you kiss him, lips eager for more and more. The moment wraps itself around you, needs forgotten for a moment as you learn each other through your kisses all over again. It leaves you breathless, a tiny sigh drifting from your mouth when you finally part, and the look in Jeongguk's dark eyes evoking a thrill through your system. It's the instinctual thrust of his hips into yours that has the mood changing, like a trigger has been set off because suddenly you're needy, pawing at him until he gives in. You can feel him against you, twitching into your heat, the damp spot building on the fabric a result of both of your desires. There's a chaste kiss along your neck, Jeongguk slowly working his hips into you, but the pulse inside of your core demands for something more. Your fingers tug at the band of his underwear, impatient as you push down the fabric. He just laughs, mouth pressed into the hollow of your neck, hips raised to assist in your ministrations. It takes some wiggling before they're off, discarded someone off the edge of the bed.

"Aren't you needy — oh fuck." Your hand is wrapped around his length; the twists you give around him shallow but you know him well enough to know where to apply pressure. It doesn't take long from Jeongguk to crumble into you, the breaths against your neck shallow and quick and his cock leaking all over your hand. He feels good like this, thick and velvet-like against your palm, a weight you ache to have in your mouth. But then your walls flutter, clenching on nothing as Jeongguk groans into your shoulder, his hips pistoning into your hand and your brain can focus on nothing but having him inside of you, filling you up like he should.

"Baby." There's a careful edge to his tones. The profanity he whispers a moment later melts into the heat of your skin. "Keep doing that and I'll cum." He feels taunt above you, like a string on the verge of snapping.

"You could do that inside of me," you retort, twisting your hips up. It's only a slight brush but Jeongguk is swearing into the heat of the air. His hands are on the back of your thighs in an instant, hoisting you up to meet him as he settles himself between your legs, the head of his cock nudging against your core.

"You're a menace," Jeongguk retorts, pressing his length into you. His eyes are on your core, marvelling at how wet you are, practically drenching his cock in your slick. It doesn't help that you look gorgeous like this underneath him, his hands wandering back to your waist as he tugs you closer. The soft smile gracing your lips makes his heart ache. He pushes in without really thinking it over, the urge to fill you up overriding any other thought in his brain. The gasp you let out urges his hips to hit deeper, the feeling of your tight wet walls fluttering around his length euphoric. He loves every part of you but your cunt has a special place in his heart if he's being honest with himself. You fit around him perfectly, like you were made for him. Even after years of being with him it still takes him breath away, how easy you welcome his length into you, the noises you make when he's inside you. The first time you'd had sex Jeongguk had nearly cried. He'd never reached his climax that quick and it hit him hard, slamming into his body as he fucked you into the mattress. For some reason he feels the same way now, balls tight with his release, begging to coat your walls in his cum. He tries not to stare at your tummy but it's instinctual.

You sigh when he bottoms out, the curve of your bum pressed neatly against his balls. "But you love me."

Jeongguk scoffs lightly, rocking his hips hard. "I don't."

You ignore the butterflies that erupt in your stomach because you know he's lying. The look in his eyes as he gazes at your stomach says something else entirely.

"You do," you retort, raising your hips to match his thrusts. "You love me." The curve of his cock rubs right where you need him most, but it's not the hard pounding you expected from him tonight. He's going uncharacteristically slow, the drag inside of you steady but not fierce. Like he's purposely prolonging this, hanging onto the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him. There's a distance in his eyes that makes you clench your walls on purpose, hard enough to yank Jeongguk back into reality. He responds with a hard thrust, one that coaxes a low moan from your lips. He hums low, hips still driving you into the sheets.

"Yeah I do." It makes your heart swoop, the heat that envelopes your body intoxicating.

The sound of you meeting fills the room, your slick dripping over Jeongguk's length. For a moment you watch how he disappears inside of you. It leaves a tingle travelling through your body, to see how well you take his cock, how he groans deep every time he buries himself inside of you. But then your eyes flicker back to Jeongguk and his unwavering gaze on your stomach. Even the hands settled on your waist are ginger, gripping you like you're fragile. It's only then do you remember the concerns he'd voiced.

"You can go harder," you murmur, the tremor in your voice a result of how good he's fucking you despite the gradual pace he'd opted for.

Jeongguk hums, still driving his cock deep into you. He's not really concerned about that. His hips move slow because he's still marvelling at the fact that you're pregnant. That the child developing inside of you belongs to the both of you. That he fucked a baby into you. It sets off something oddly primal in his brain, dragging up an urge that he has to bite down on. That's why he goes slow, savouring every whimper and sigh that falls from your bruised lips. Etching the way your body feels under him, pliant to his desires. How you stare at him with that soft look clouding your gaze. He doesn't want this to end. Even with the pressure in his balls tight, he drags it out, drowning the words that threaten to torrent from his heart with the sound of your meeting. It echoes in the room, colouring the air with your mutual love for one another. He lets it wrap around him, revels in it. But then you're wrapping an arm around him and tugging him down. His face lands into your shoulder and his palms get lost in the sheets. He feels your legs straddle around his waist, drawing him deeper and deeper and Jeongguk feels his resolve crumble into dust.

"Oh." The little exclamation fluxes into the crook of your neck, lost into the heat of your skin. It ignites something in your gut and your hips rise to meet his quickening pace. There's an edge lingering behind your eyes and you want it so bad. Jeongguk hears the desperation in the way you whine his name and he moves with purpose now, pounding you hard into the sheets mercilessly. It's what you want and Jeongguk intends to give you everything and anything you desire. Especially now that you're the mother of his child.

His high hits him quick, a fast sweet thing that zips down his spine has your walls cling around his length, holding him in like you need him there. There's nothing that can stop it, but you join him a beat later, your bodies moulding into each other, space nonexistence as your rapid heartbeats fall into sync. You feel him twitch inside of you, cum pooling around your entrance, and your brain short circuits for a moment.  There's a warmth ebbing from your core, echoing deep inside of your bones and the added feeling of your boyfriend caging you in his arms, his cum slipping from your core, unlocks something in your brain. It makes your heart fall into ease too, and you can't help but cling onto the security of his being even when he's mumbling about cleaning the two of you up in your ear.

"No.” The protest falls from your pouty lips, a neediness colouring your voice that Jeongguk can’t help but smile at. The glitter of his brown eyes leaves you swooning, but not as hard as the quick peck he delivers on your check a second later.

"Please," He reasons, voice gentle. "You're gonna feel gross tomorrow."

Your legs are reluctant but they fall away regardless. "Be quick."

He plants another faint kiss to your lips again before rising. "Of course I will."

→

“You stink.”

Jeongguk laughs at the grimace painting your features as he dives into you, smashing your nose straight into the pit of his armpit. He reeks, skin still slightly sticky from putting his muscles to work in the gym downstairs. Normally, he would prefer to drive out to the gym he’d signed a membership for. He’d usually shower there before heading home. However, since the news of the new addition to your family Jeongguk had been adamant on staying near home. Though the equipment in your building was arbitrary Jeongguk refused to go out further than needed. Even when you desperately wanted him to. For instance, right at this very moment. You can feel the revulsion forming at the back of your throat as he nuzzles you into his arms. You gag on it, shoving him off harshly. You can’t even muster a playful smile when he stares at you in confusion, face downcast.

“What’s wrong?” He says it innocently, oblivious to the stench that’s emitting from him. Normally, you don’t mind Jeongguk post work-out must. But something in your brain has registered his current sweat drenched body as the vilest thing on Earth.

“You stink,” You reiterate, shifting away from him. Jeongguk pouts, sniffing at the tight fabric that stretches over his firm muscles.

“That bad?”

“Like a pig. Please go shower.” You snap, snatching up the bag of salt and vinegar chips you’d left behind in you flee from Jeongguk. Usually you didn’t like the way this flavour lingered in your mouth, yet somehow with the past couple of days you’d demolished more packets of them than you’d ever eaten in a single month in your entire life.

“That is not the food a pregnant woman should be eating,” He comments, voice coloured with disdain. He attempts to pluck it out of your hands, but the sharp glare you target at him halts his movements immediately.

“Don’t talk to me when you smell like that.”

He frowns, raising a hand to rake through the damp brown curls sticking to his scalp. “You hate the way salt and vinegar crisps smell. Why the hell are you eating them at this rate?”

“Why are you not in the shower yet?” The eyebrow raised directly at him pokes at his composed temperament.

“Y/N. Apart from those, what else have you eaten today?” When you don’t answer Jeongguk evades your space once again. You cough back the bile that’s coating your throat.

“We had breakfast together, you know what I ate.” He doesn’t take the retort well, sighing heavily as he blinks at you.

“Breakfast was hours ago. What did you eat in between that? I want a serious answer.” There’s enough gravity in his words to make you mumble out what he’s asking to hear.

“....Bread.”

“Bread?” He repeats it like he can’t believe it, tone coloured with incredulity. “Bread. You just ate bread. Was there anything on the bread? Tell me it was a sandwich at least.”

“No. Just plain bread.”

The sigh he emits now is loud and full of frustration. “Bread? Y/N, you’re pregnant. You can’t just eat plain bread that’s not enough for you.”

“I know,” You snap back, a harshness in your voice that even surprises you. It makes Jeongguk pause for a moment, but you’re already too worked up to care about backtracking your thoughts. “I know that I should be eating nutritional stuff Jeongguk but I can’t. I literally can’t. I feel like I’m going to throw up over everything. It’s so hard to force food down my throat when I feel like it’s going to come right back up. So stop getting at me for that. I’m trying, I really am. Just let me be.”

He tilts his head, the perturbation in his eyes tangible. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you that lingers, Jeongguk’s gaze unwavering. It makes you feel uncomfortable, and you squirm away subconsciously. The minute moment has a dark cloud settling over Jeongguk’s features.

“I’m sorry,” He doesn’t make a move to kiss or hug you - which you’re both grateful for and irked at. It’s a peculiar feeling, repulsing your partner.  “I get that your sensitive right now. I’m just worried. You know tomorrow is our first prenatal visit. You’re still taking the vitamins right?”

“I am,” You affirm, sticking your hand back into the packet of crisps. “And stop worrying. You’re making me nervous.”

He sighs again, rubbing the nape of his neck with unease. In one fluid motion he’s off the couch, taking the atrocious smell with him. “I’m sorry again. I’ll go shower. Please, just consider eating something that isn’t salt and vinegar chips while I’m gone. And drink some water. Please? For me?” The pleading look he gives you, doe eyes wide, plasters itself into your brain. You mumble a noise of agreement, waiting impatiently for him to walk away. He does so with one last long look at you, his eyes holding a miscellany of emotions that you can’t decipher. You don’t want to either, but the feeling they give you creeps through your chest, sneaking its way into your heart.

When he's gone, you dig into your crisps unabashedly, yet for some reason the taste of them leaves a film of disgust in your mouth. You try to chug it away with a bottle of water but it lingers, provoking a wave of nausea that has you taking deep breaths. The show playing on the television is monetarily forgotten as you wander into the kitchen in search of something to calm your unsettled stomach. The cluster of bananas sitting in your fruit basket catch your eyes simply because the vision of Jeongguk staring at you with that imploring gaze is still vivid in your memory. He’s right though - you’re not eating enough healthy food to sustain the current exertion your body is undergoing. Making a whole human being is incredibly difficult and it was taking a huge toll on your body. From the constant nausea to the back pain and sudden scent sensitivity, you were feeling overwhelmed. Your moods had suffered too, your patience running thin with Jeongguk more often than not. The lethargy your body feels seeps negativity into every aspect of your life - and it didn’t help that Seungmin was still breathing down your neck asking for reports left right and centre like you had nothing better to do with your time. There had been a couple of close calls at the office this week we’re you’d nearly snapped at him, but you’d managed to hold yourself back in time. However, all those repressed emotions are following you, reappearing in the way you flare up at Jeongguk for the slightest mistake. It’s starting to eat away at you, this guilt that you’re treating him like this despite your boyfriend trying his best to provide you with everything and anything you wanted. That’s why you grab one of the bananas, swiftly peeling it open.

But then the smell hits you, quick and hard leaving no room for you to force back the vomit that nearly spews from your mouth. You barely make it to the toilet in time, head held over the bowl as you hurl out the obscene amount of carbs you’d consumed for the day.

You don’t even hear his footsteps but the sudden hard gently rubbing on your back isn’t unwelcome. He murmurs softly over the sound of you heaving, crouching next to your huddle figure, worry violently radiating from him. It’s a few more retches before it passes, you mouth bitter with the remnants of salt and vinegar crisps. It makes your eyes sting, and suddenly your throat is clogged with a devastating despondency that swallows you whole. You don’t even feel like you can move from the toilet, holding your head in your hands as you choke back tears. You feel discomfort everywhere, and this is merely the beginning of your pregnancy. Seven weeks in and a part of you is ready to quit it all already.

Jeongguk coaxes your head up, gently urging a glass of water into your hands that you use to rinse your mouth out. The distress in his eyes doesn’t help quell any of the negative thoughts swimming in your brain.

“Are you okay?” He murmurs, voice soft in the echo of your bathroom. His hair is still damp from his shower, golden skin on display - evidence he didn’t have enough time to tug a shirt over his head before he came to your aid.

“Obviously not,” You bite back, and then immediately regret it when you see the fall on his face. “I don’t think I’ll throw up again, but I really want to lie down.” He nods, evidently glad you’ve given him something to work with.

“C’mere.” You make a motion at the mess in the toilet but he brushes it off. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it.”  His arms lift you up easily, gingerly guiding you to the couch where he nestles you in the soft cocoon of pillows and blankets, fretting incessantly over whether you truly feel comfortable or not. And then, he’s gone. You hear the sound of the toilet being scrubbed even though you’re in the living room and your nausea rears its ugly head for a split second. It’s a dangerous lurch in your stomach that thankfully subsides when you close your eyes and breath slow. Jeongguk walks in on this, shirt soaked with the droplets of water slipping from his curls and his phone in his hand. You don’t see it but he’s staring hard at his phone, eyes swiftly reading through a series of web-pages, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He wishes he could just text his mom the question plaguing his brain but he can’t. You’d both decided to hold back the pregnancy announcement until the first ultrasound. But in situations like this Jeongguk wishes that his mother knew. Or anyone he could trust for advice really. He feels like he’s waddling blindly through deep waters, constantly making the wrong decisions because you keep snapping at him. Even now that you’re reposed on the couch, face lax, he can still see how dull your skin is. It makes his heart ache. For the duration of your pregnancy the morning sickness had been present - but it had never been this bad. Coupled with your other symptoms, Jeongguk truly feels like the worst partner in the world for not being able to alleviate somewhat of your troubles.

That’s why he heads to the kitchen with purposeful steps, snatching up the half peeled banana you’d deposited on the counter before fleeing for the bathroom and dumping it into the trash. You blink your eyes open to the sudden sound of Jeongguk knocking pots onto the stove and rummaging deep through the fridge.

“What are you doing?” You croak, voice weak over the droning of the television.

Jeongguk twists to face you, a tiny smile on his lips but his eyes are nervous. He asks it anyway because if he does nothing he’ll feel useless. “How do you feel about ginger tea?”

“I’m listening,” You say. The smile on your lips is tired, but the fact that it’s there is enough confirmation to ease the worry that had become a permanent fixture in Jeongguk’s heart.

→

His jittering is getting on your nerves. Jeongguk’s always been one to move around to alleviate his anxiety but by doing so at this very moment, he’s adding to yours. You already feel sick to your stomach, the candescene of the clinic lights sparking an ache in your eyes. Instinctively, you reach out from your perch in the leather chair, giving his jerky knee a firm but tight squeeze. The movement halts immediately and from your peripheral gaze you note the sheepish smile that spreads across your boyfriend’s lips.

“Sorry,” he whispers into the sterile air. Hospitals always have that sharp alcohol smell and you’re quickly coming to the conclusion that you don’t like that smell at all.

“It’s okay,” you return. “You’re just making me nervous, babe.”

He’s got your hand in his a second later. “I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t believe this is real.”

You huff. “Well you better start believing. This is very much real.” Maybe that’s what’s causing the mini freak-out in your mind. The gravity of the situation was slowly starting to dawn on you. Maybe it was the smell of the clinic, or maybe it was the equipment surrounding both of you. But it was all becoming very real that this was happening.

Jeongguk seems to have noted the flash of panic flooding your features but before you can say anything the door clicks open and a sharp lady with pin straight hair walks in.

“Good morning, Mr and Mrs Jeon. Apologies for keeping you waiting. I hope everything is alright.” She moves quickly, dropping a chart on the counter beside the wall before turning to face the both of you. You quirk an eyebrow at how she addresses you but Jeongguk doesn’t make a comment, instead quickly rising to give her a small bow.

“Morning Doctor Lee, everything’s alright. Just some morning sickness and fatigue but otherwise she’s doing okay.”

She grants you a small glance, the smile on her face gentle. “That’s to be expected. There’s some remedies I can suggest but for the most part you just have to work through it. Otherwise, we can get into the first ultrasound.”

You give her a nod, hand still intertwined with Jeongguk’s and a strange knot tight in your throat.

“Alright, go ahead and lie down for me,” Lee says, dimming the lights in the room. She raises your shirt up when you’ve gotten comfortable, handing you a paper sheet to prevent the gel from staining your clothes. Your exposed belly in the faint glow of the monitor screen ticks of something in your head. But you bury that feeling away, focusing on the feeling of Jeongguk’s callused palm against your own.

“Okay, just undo your pants and tug them down for me.” You do as instructed, wiggling in the seat until the curve of your stomach is out for all to see. You can feel Jeongguk’s eyes on it, the sudden squeeze he bestows your hand a clear indicator.

“The gel is warmed but it still might be a little bit uncomfortable,” Lee continues. She’s right, but you let her spread it around anyway, the pounding in your heart frantic. “So we’re going to do a simple heart-tracing,” she says as she presses the probe into your skin. “This is just a general check on how your baby is developing.” You nod again, ignoring the deft hard press of the probe and she shifts it around

“See if you look here.” Your eyes snap right to the monitor, mind trying to decipher the blobs on the screen into a person growing inside of you. “There’s your baby’s arm, and right there is the head and neck. They’re developing very well. Look there’s the rib cage, and there’s the spine.”

“Wow,” Jeongguk murmurs into the silence of the room.

Lee laughs, pressing the probe in a little deeper. “There’s the heart, and if I go down… Yes, there’s the stomach. And right there is your umbilical cord. Everything seems to be coming along well. Oh, look!” You can’t even rip your gaze away from the screen if you wanted to. “There’s the baby moving, see how the arm is raising?”

You can see it, a tiny slight movement that you don’t even register happening within you. Your baby is moving. Maybe you let out a little gasp, maybe your grip on Jeongguk’s hand goes taunt, but suddenly this seems real with a clarity you’ve never felt before.

“Alright, so I’m seeing no anomalies. So we’ll do a crown-rump length measurement. This will give us a possible date of birth for your baby. But from the information you gave you’re thinking you’re around nine weeks along, right?”

“Yes.” Your voice feels far from your body.

“Okay, let me just take a look at the rest of your body. I can see that your bladder is full, that’s good,” she says. You zone out then, lost in the sudden violent realisation that you’re growing a life inside of you. It feels slightly terrifying in the faint blue glow of the room. And it worsens when Jeongguk starts asking questions, mumbling about your food aversions and diet. Doctor Lee responds in that calm collected tone of her’s, giving him suggestions that you see him eagerly internalise. Yet you don’t hear much of what she says, too busy staring at the image on the monitor.

“Would you like me to take a picture?” Lee suddenly states. “We can’t determine gender at this stage but I could take a few pictures of the baby and have them printed out for you.”

“Yes,” you say. “We’d like that.”

Lee nods, the softness of her gaze enough to ground you for a moment. “Let me just move this around here. We’d like one with the baby up and in a good position.” You can’t tell if Jeongguk is breathing beside you, his sudden silence vaguely concerning. But this his fingertips feather down your side, reassuring, a reminder that he’s here for you.

“Alright then, that sums up what we’re able to do for your first ultrasound. I just need to check some of the reports and then I’ll get back to you. Here’s some towels so you can clean yourself up.” She leaves you buttoning your pants up, the lights back on and a weight sitting heavy on your shoulders.

“Our kid is gorgeous.” Jeongguk breaks the silence with that, tugging your hand into his once more.

“We haven’t even really seen him, Jeongguk,” you return. There’s a delirious smile pulling at your lips. Yes, you’re worried about this new challenge. Parenthood truly did not feel like a joke, but every time you look at Jeongguk. See the bright adoration blooming in his eyes, that fear can’t help but subside. It virtually disappears when he brushes a kiss against your forehead, plucking up the tissues you’d used to wipe the gel off.

“Him? How do you know our baby is a boy, hmm?” There’s the thud as the tissues hit the bottom of the garbage can. You shift to help him clean up but Jeongguk stops you with a firm palm against your belly, honey eyes staring at you with tenderness.

“I don’t know,” you return. “I think it’s a boy. But I don’t really care. I just want a healthy baby.”

He flicks your nose fondly. “I feel the same way, my love. Everything seems to be going well so far. I just need you to eat a little better. You heard what Doctor Lee said.”

“I know,” you groan. “But the baby hates everything! It’s not my fault I’m not hungry.”

“I know, my love. But you still need to eat. Where do you want to go for lunch today? I’m thinking Paul’s.” Jeongguk sweeps the rest of the mess up, ever so diligent and nit-picky. “I’m craving pasta.”

“Fine, but don’t expect me to finish anything. Those portions are always too —”

“Mr Jeon?” The door swings open, Lee striding in with an envelope and her chart tucked underneath her white coat. “Here’s the ultrasound photo. As for the estimation date, we’re thinking around May 17th. If you have any other questions we can discuss them now.”

“I think we’re clear of any questions right now,” Jeongguk responds, gently taking the envelope from her outstretched hand. “Thank you, Doctor Lee.”

“Alright, let me know if anything happens or if any questions arise,” she says. “I’ll see you at your next appointment.” She sends you off with a smile, and the worry that claws at your insides ebbs away the moment your feet leave her office.

It’s in the car that you rip open the envelope. It feels weird, holding the picture in your hands. Because that’s your baby. That’s something you and Jeongguk made together. A life forming inside of you. Jeongguk leans into your space, a hand on your thigh as your both stare at the picture together, attempting to pinpoint where the arms and legs are forming. It’s surreal, knowing that this was happening inside of you right now.

“That’s our baby,” you whisper. Jeongguk grins, planting a warm kiss on your check.

“Yeah, that’s our baby.”

→

Your bump grows steadily over the course of your pregnancy. Suddenly waist bands are too tight, jeans don’t clasp shut, and you’re left rummaging through your closet for anything that sits loose enough to alleviate your discomfort. Jeongguk’s sweatpants swiftly migrate to your closet becoming a favourite item for you to don until one day Soomi insists on taking you maternity shopping. It’s not your favourite activity, to be honest. The harsh lights in the changing rooms illuminate your drastically changing body, bouncing off the roundness of your belly. It’s surreal, to see yourself alter like this, a totally new person staring back at you from the reflection. But you amuse her regardless, not minding the loose fitted clothes she swamps over you with that delicate smile of hers.

You and Jeongguk tell your parents first, during one late afternoon lunch, before announcing the news to everyone else you know. There’s hesitation in the initial reception, expected comments at the lack of your matrimony being muttered amongst your grandparents and parents. But that quickly dissipates when you hand them a picture of a recent ultrasound. They fall in love immediately, cooing and simpering with adoration for the child growing within you. It’s around then that the glow sneaks around, your skin vibrant and the smile on your lips unwavering. But the pregnancy isn’t perfect, there are still bouts of morning sickness and a growing pain at the base of your back that refuse to disappear despite advice for others and consistent care from Jeongguk himself. You manage through it though, a strange feeling blossoming in your chest whenever he places an absentminded palm against your belly, like a security blanket shielding you away from the bitter coldness of the world.

You can’t help but think about that feeling as you stare yourself in the mirror, sans clothes, tummy spreading far from body. With your first trimester essentially over, the changes in your body have become more rapid. It’s been odd to glance down and find a swell there instead of your usual tummy with its rolls and softness. Your fingertips give in, poking gently at the skin there. It’s still soft — just different, a firmness that tugs at your heart meeting your fingers. You should have gotten into the shower ages ago, a meeting awaiting your morning at the office. Jeongguk’s up too, the faint padding of his slippers echoing through the walls. You don’t realise how close he’s drawing until the door slides open, brown curls and wide eyes appearing from the sudden gap. There’s no need to hide, his gaze falling on your bare skin gently.

“Are you going to get in any day soon or is your body more fascinating to look at?” He’s annoyed. Despite your insistence Jeongguk doesn’t like the idea of you going into a stressful environment that you hate on most days, especially when his new position covers both of you. Seungmin doesn’t know yet too, and your manager is still a pain in the ass on good days. He doesn't want that around you when your body is preoccupied with creating life. But the idea of wasting away on the couch watching reruns of sitcoms and shunning away the comfort foods you once enjoyed sounds abhorrent. You’d rather be in the office while you can, and your colleagues are wonderful to — better company than a television show.

“You don’t think my body is fascinating?” He sees your pout in the mirror, shifting forward with a small smile on his own lips.

“I never said that.” The words wrap around you the same time his arms do, strong and firm but delicate in how he handles you. His lips meet your neck a beat later, the adoration they leave sinking straight into your heart. It warms you from head to toe, burning when his hands fall to your belly instinctively. “It’s more than fascinating.”

You hum, rocking into his chest. “Is it?” Your eyes don’t leave the mirror, engraving this image into the base of your mind where it will live with a clarity as clear as the sky. Jeongguk on the other hand is too busy looking at you, eyes trained on your face like he’s staring at a constellation hanging high in the velvet of the night. His hands travel, dropping low to settling at your hips. His own brushes against you, want evident through the loose fabric of his shorts.

“Do you want me to show you how fascinating it is?”

“I'm gonna be late for work, Jeongguk.”

“You don’t have to go at all,” he returns, a gentle press of his lips on your neck accompanying the statement.

“And why would I want to do that?” You retort, but your resolve is weak, body already pliant to the gentle shift of him as he draws you close.

“You don’t have to want to not go – I can just make you.”

“Jeon–”

His wandering hand is now at your chest, the fingertips that trail along your skin are delicate and yet they leave blazes of heat in their wake. “Please,” he burns the word into your skin, lips leaving a soft mark. “Just for today.” You feel it then, the crumble of your resolution. It happens the moment his hand slips low, right between your legs, grazing soft the way you like it. His other hand stays at your chest, squeezing soft before he catches your nipple between his fingertips. A precise flick, and the press of his tongue on your neck has you succumbing faster than the shore does to the hungry tide.

“Jeon–” He makes you watch, fingers landing right where you need them, sure deft presses against the nerves there. Your thighs are drawn taunt already, heightened by the sensitivity of your newfound body. It catches you gaze in the mirror, that bump, peaking forward as he works your open with his fingers. You can feel his muscles shift, ready to spin you, lift you up onto the counter like he’s done before and find his way between your legs. But you decide then, that you don’t want that just yet.

“Wait – wait, Jeongguk. Wait, I want something else first.” He halts, pauses with a curiosity in his dark gaze that makes you nervous for some reason. In baited silence you turn, shuffling away from him and sinking on your knees in a fluid motion.

“You don’t have to –” He starts, but you don’t let him finish.

“But I want to you.”

“Baby.” It’s laced with apprehension, but his cock is hard at the sight of you like this, pliant and on your knees, a pretty picture burned into his memory. “Your knees,” Jeongguk mumbles, gripping the counter when your mouth his dick through the fabric of his shorts. “You’re going to be in pain.”

“You know I like pain, Jeongguk.” And then your tugging the fabric down, sighing when he springs out, hard and needy. He’s already leaking, tip red and wet. He wants to say something, but it vanishes when you swallow him whole, head bumping into the back of your perfect throat with an evil ease. The groan that falls from his mouth and unearthly, painting the air warm. He’s forgotten how good your mouth is, how eager you work your tongue around him, fast and quick over delicate nerves that fall victim to your ministrations quick. He’s not normally this fast in reaching his edge, but the sight of you, naked and full in the mirror plague the back of his mind. It shouldn’t be hot but that fact that you’re carrying his child does something to base part of Jeongguk’s brain that he can’t put into words. It’s what drives his hips forward, motions muted because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. But you don’t care, forcing more of his length down your throat until you gag, lips glistening bright under the bathroom lights.

“Baby,” Jeongguk mumbles, his hand reaching to pull you off his cock. “Baby – please – gonna cum if you don’t stop.”

You pull off with an obscene wet pop, licking your lips sinfully. “But that’s what I want.” You see him twitch, length dripping wet.

“No,” Jeongguk whines. “Not when I wanna cum in you.”

“Really?” He doesn’t even know why you’re surprised.

“Yes,” he answers anyway. “Really.” You’re pulled from the ground softly, and spun to face the mirror with care. His clothes hit the ground then, firm tan arms wrapping around you. They bend you forward, rest your hands onto the counter so you have support when he sinks down behind you, nudging your legs open with purpose.

“Thought you wanted to – oh fuck.” Jeongguk hums at that, tongue slipping right between your folds. He licks you open with a fierceness that has your knees shaking, deft movements filled with urgency. It sparks that heat in your gut, allows to spread fast through your body as his face burrows deep between your legs. His hands hold you still though, carefully protecting your belly against the bathroom counter. You can’t focus on anything but the feeling of his tongue sliding in deep, coaxing your walls apart eagerly. When he finally parts from your cunt you’ve forgetting how to breathe, forehead pressed against the cool counter and your lungs heaving.

“Good girl,” Jeongguk comments, dropping a swift kiss on your core. “Wet like this just for me, right?”

You sigh, a tiny noise of agreement. “Just for you.”

Jeongguk doesn’t comment, gripping you hard as he rises again, cock nudging right against your cunt with ease. He doesn’t move though, hands coming to gently lift your head. He forces you to look, honey eyes coloured dark even in the glimmer of the lights. His fingers journey along your features, quietly claiming the skin they touch.

“All of this, only for me, right?”

“All for you,” you immediately comply, hips shifting back. You want him so bad it hurts.

He pauses at your belly, settling at the base of it, swell cupped in his hand. “Only for me.” You don’t reply at first, because it feels like something Jeongguk is saying to himself. But then he looks at you, waiting, the grip on your body firm and unforgiving.

“Yours.” It’s whispered into the morning, like a secret of the night instead. Jeongguk smiles, that bright grin you’ve grown to love feeding the fire that burns fast within you.

“Mine,” he brands the word into your skin with a kiss on your neck. “Forever?”

“Forever.”

He buries himself deep them, splitting you open with one sure thrust that coaxes a moan from the back of throat. It melts into the air, walls already adjusting to his length. You can feel the slick coating your inner thighs, tainting the base of his crotch and dripping down his length. You sway, but Jeongguk holds you up, keep your gaze focused on the mirror as his hips draw away, before returning back with a force that catches your tongue between your teeth. He fucks you hard with a need you’ve never felt before, a purpose driving his hips forward until you feel your body given way, the sound of your meeting resounding through the room, hard and fast and wet. And yet his hands hold you together carefully, delicate with your fragility but firm like he needs you to know something. You think you do, and this side of him is both pleasant and terrifying. Nobody has ever touched you like this before, fucked you open like this before. But then again Jeongguk did say only him. And he meant it, judging from how his hand snakes to your cunt, landing right where you need him as if he’s memorised your body, engraved parts of him into his brain forever. It feels like he wants you to do the same, with how hard his hips drive forward, moaning low in your ear as his body tenses. You’re close too, but not there yet. Jeongguk can feel that, knows that tremor in your thighs is not enough. So he bites it back, holds that drop in his gut as he moulds your body into his, thrusts deep and slow.

“God – Jeon – J-Jeongguk – I can’t – can’t–” You look gorgeous like this, head lolling back and your hips shift to meet him.

“You can,” his fingers move faster, determined. “Be good for me, hmm?”

“But–” It appears faster than you’d like, a violent flash that pulls from within as Jeongguk unravels you. You can still feel him, buried deep and throbbing hard against your walls. Your legs want to give in but Jeongguk holds you up, forces you through it with shallow bucks of his hips against your heat, groaning low when your walls tighten around his length. He falls then, right into the heat of his want, spilling deep inside of you with choked whine and a kiss against your shoulder. It feels long and like it happens in a blink at the same time, but even as he stills you can feel him inside you, twitching around the pool of cum dripping from your cunt.

There’s another kiss on your shoulder as Jeongguk slowly pulls himself out. His cum follows quick, slipping from your cunt with is. You note how he watches it, how his fingers twitch with the instinct to stuff it back inside. You can’t help but roll your eyes. That was something you did when you were trying and there’s already proof of that effort right in your belly. He moves to plant another kiss though, right on your cheek while his hands sneak down to fulfil their desire. You halt them with a gentleness.

“I need to shower, Jeongguk.” The comment produces a pout on his lips. You kiss it away. “You have work too, babes. Get in with me.” He complies, still insistently drifting his hands downwards. A simple man honestly. With very simple needs.

→

With Jeongguk’s new position and your new predicament changes have rapidly happened. The search for a bigger apartment commenced right after your birthday announcement. At first, you didn’t find it necessary to uproot your whole life from your current apartment, with its quaint location and scattered memories. But Jeongguk wasn’t thinking about that, mind already focused on the future. He wanted a better district, closer to primary schools and day cares with stellar reputation. It was mildly unnerving, to see him come back from work, tie loose and his cheeks flushed from walking up the hill to your home with a list of new places they should go to, recommended by his colleagues. You’d asked around too, and slowly seeing one or two new places jumped from five to ten and eventually thirteen. All of them were disappointing in some way; either Jeongguk or you weren’t satisfied with the garden space, or he found the baby’s room to cramped, or the apartment too close to the main roads. Or the furnishing would not be adequate enough for the rent the landlord was charging. He also wanted benefits, perhaps a gym in the apartment complex or space to build one for himself in a private home. It quickly became apparent to you that Jeongguk wasn’t just looking for a new space, but rather the perfect forever home for him and his family.

Family.

A word you’ve slowly become accustomed to saying in your head. Jeongguk was your partner, and for the most part your family – but this, the baby in your belly. That was your family. A child that belongs to you as much as they belong to Jeongguk. It’s a foreign concept, but your heart swells in anticipation for it every time Jeongguk comes home for work, exhausted by lightening up the second his eyes fall on you and your stomach. It deepens during your doctor’s appointments, quietly observing the attentiveness Jeongguk directs to those meetings, how he notes down every bit of advice the doctors suggest. And its blooms when you begin find copies of parentings books around the house. You’d bought a few of your own for your journey but the shiny novel labelled: ‘Parenting Guide: For New Fathers’ sitting on your kitchen counter does something to you. Jeongguk wanted this more than he let on, and the fact that he was willing to give it up when you felt reluctant shows just how much he loves and cares for you. It feels like a blessing that everything aligned in its own way, perhaps drawn into your life by the desires of your boyfriend and partially by your longing for them too.

You’re lucky enough to find the perfect place thanks to Seokjin. A modern high-rise with the perks Jeongguk wants and enough room for your family to blossom, plus a playground space for your baby to grow in. It’s an arm and a leg to afford but Jeongguk was adamant to provide, and in the back of your head you were already thinking of side-things you can do to support your devoted lover. You move in towards the beginning of January, your previous lease drawing to an end at the perfect time. The new year is ushered in with new furniture and kisses in empty rooms, your sweaters stretching hard over your growing tummy. The journey feels both long and short, marked by moments with your mother, friends and Jeongguk and most importantly by yourself. Hours spent in front of the mirror observing your body change and transform into something new – something strong enough to create life within. Perhaps it’s always been that, yet seeing it occur right before your eyes has been astounding. Jeongguk keeps a steady eye on you, a weight lifting off his shoulders when you finally hand in your resignation letter. Seungmin is surprised, but he stares at your stomach with grudgingness that makes you feel sick.

(And you are the moment you get home, even with the first trimester over).

“Women,” he had muttered under his breathe. “Good for nothing but having babies and abandoning work.”

At first you’d wanted to ignore it, have your final day in the office be a pleasant calm one. Your co-workers were pretty nice, albeit occasionally annoying and deriving too much gratification in gossip but they were nice. Yet how could you, when the source of your stress and anxiety had the nerve to speak to you like that.

“You’re a real fucking piece of shit, you know.” And just like that Seungmin had shut-up, narrowed eyes staring at you in disbelief. “What the fuck have I ever done to you? My work has always been excellent unlike the subpar shit you usually get from everyone here. And yet you’ve been nothing but an annoying piece of shit to me and half your employees here. I don’t know who made you like this but I suggest you leave that shit at the door when you walk in – or else you’ll be dealing with more than just an angry pregnant lady. I’ve heard some pretty interesting harassment lawsuits have been springing up.”

He hadn’t said anything, mouth agape as you’d gotten up, your bag tight in your arms. “Learn to fucking respect the people you work with, or else someone will teach you that lesson.”

You’d stormed out, passing quick goodbyes as your stomach swayed with dread. It had taken more from you than you’d expected but it trepidation had passed as quick as your head hitting toilet the second you’d gotten home. Jeongguk considered buying you a cake just for that, and you’d told him to shut-up. But you could feel like pride and relief in the hug hid given you after you’d told him, and that was all that truly mattered in the grand scheme of things. Not life-sucking leeches like Seungmin.

→

You never really wanted a baby shower. It just felt so overwhelming and attention-seeking to demand that everyone in your life pays mind to you and the baby you were growing, but as pregnancy went on, Yoona and Soomi couldn’t help but insist, taking on the burden of planning it. Jeongguk has helped too, picky over the food and colour co-ordinations to the point where Yoona is considering never talking to him again.

“He’s going to be a nightmare when you plan your wedding,” she says it over a mouthful of rice, swiping through flower arrangement pictures. “Why the hell does he know the difference between gold and rose-gold I can’t even get my husband to figure out two different shades of blue.”

You’d shrugged, the smile on your lips small. “He really likes art, maybe that’s why.”

“A designer’s eye,” Yoona comments, sweeping over the apartment. “I knew they was no way you were responsible for this. Remember when you wanted to paint your apartment walls orange… I’m so glad you met him.”

“Hey! Orange is a really nice colour, it’s very warm and welcoming.”

“Orange is gross and gives people migraines – who have you ever seen purposefully paint their home in the shade of bright orange?” The quirk of her eyebrow makes you laugh, but your still adamant like always.

“It could have been me; I could have been the first.”

“And the last if anyone was smart enough. How’s the baby room coming along.”

You’re up in an instant, partially weighed by the new heaviness in your stomach and chest. “Wanna see? Jeongguk did most of it.” She nods, following you through your new home to the room right beside yours. It opens up to reveal a wide room, painted a pretty pastel yellow, tiny birds and flower wreathes lining the walls. Jeongguk had done it himself, along with the images of Bambi placed on opposing walls. It was his favourite Disney movie after all, and if he aimed on converting your child into loving it too you don’t mind. The crib is adorned with pillow and plushies, carefully picked out for their softness, along with a faded blue blanket that belonged to Jeongguk. His mother had kept it, somewhat pristine for its age and former use. The rest of the room was filled with paraphernalia; a rocking chair given by Namjoon, an assortment of toys partially handed over by Seokjin as his kids have aged and pretty star mobile swaying over the crib.

Yoona’s delight is evident in her smile, padding around the room with the movement of something you can only describe as mother-like. “I could give you baby clothes by the way – Jonghyun is growing so fast and I don’t know what to do with them.”

“That would be nice, thank you.”

“You’re okay with boy clothes? Wait – are you having a boy?”

You roll your eyes, moving forward into the room. “No, we decided to keep it a secret from ourselves, you know this I bet Jeongguk told you.” From the sly shift of her gaze he did. “Soomi is the only one who knows.”

“Why Soomi and why not me?” Yoona pouts, looking exactly like her high-school self.

“Because,” you respond, “Soomi can keep a secret and you can’t.” Her laugh is soft and good-natures because she knows it’s true too.

You fall into small silence, one that feels like memories. How you’d met this girl at the tender age of ten and kept her in your life as you’ve grown from young and wild teenager, confused and reckless adults to this. Mothers. A part of your future that you never truly saw coming.

“He did all of this?” Yoona supplies into the silence. You hum a noise of agreement. “He really cares.”

“He does.”

“I think that’s nice. It’s good you meet him that day – and if I recall when you called me right after you were already calling it the worst day of your life. Now look.”

And you do, fondness creeping forth from your chest. “It was the worst day of my life. He cost me an important job.”

“And he ended up giving you this,” Yoona returns, moving to slip her hand into yours. “A fair trade doesn’t you think.”

“Not a bad one at all,” you say. Your laughs are as light as the dawn sun just breaking beyond the horizon, coloured bright like the paint on the wall of your child’s future room.

“You’re gonna miss this,” Yoona says, squeezing your hand softly. “Once it’s all gone and everyday feels like a challenge… These moments you’re gonna miss them.”

“You miss being pregnant?”

“Maybe,” Yoona wonders out-loud, the look she gives you sneaky. “Jonghyun needs a sibling.”

“God please, give yourself a break. And besides,” You glance at your tummy. “He has a friend on the way.”

Another moment of silence falls, as you both stare at your future while your hand clings to your past and present.

“Remember what I said, at my baby shower?” Yoona whispers, her fingers gripping onto you.

“I remember.” It’s funny that she brings it up, considering what happened that night.

“Well… I’m happy we’re doing this together.” You pause, turning to face her, the smile on her hips matching yours.

“I’m happy we’re doing this together too.” And when she pulls you close for a hug, you remember the girl you once were, unsure and stumbling. It feels nice to know that Yoona was there for you then, and she’s here for you now.

(The shower is more than a success, filled with memories you’ll treasure for ever – and images of Taehyung in a diaper stamped into your memory forever. Yoona and Soomi were right through; having one gave you moments to remember and it felt warm, to be surrounded by the tender adoration and love for your family celebrating the start of something new.)

→

Your baby is late. It’s fitting actually, because that’s something you would do if you were about to be born. But it’s starting to get on your nerves. There’s an unspoken edge hanging in the room, amplified by the constant concerned looks Jeongguk has been throwing your way since your child decided to hang in your womb for a little longer. You’ve been trying to ignore it, but it’s hard when he’s checking up on you for contractions and when the hospital bag has been sitting beside the door for three whole days now. You drown his concern (and yours) with bowls of popcorn and a strange new-found interest in watching old romantic comedies. Jeongguk paces around the apartment while Bridget Jones gets locked in a Taiwan jail for attempted drug smuggling. It would have been a funny moment, expect Jeongguk’s pacing as has the baby moving too and now there’s a tiny foot trying to murder you from the inside. So much energy, an obvious mark of Jeongguk’s genes because any child of yours would definitely prefer to not move instead of brutalising their mother’s insides.

“You’re sure we shouldn’t just go in? Get a check-up or something?” Jeongguk heads peaks from the living-room door frame, locks tousled from the fretting of his fingertips.

“No,” you return, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth. It’s more for the effect rather than from enjoyment because for some reason it tastes weird. “We called already, babes. It’s okay, leave the baby alone they’re not ready for the world yet.”

A hard kick into your ribs and you immediately regret saying that. Maybe the baby should just come out – you’re ready for them to.

There’s a line of worry digging into his forehead. “Are you sure? I don’t like this – what if something’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say. And fortunately as far as you and the doctors know, nothing is. All the ultrasound and check-up appointments had confirmed that your baby was growing steadily and healthy inside of you. Maybe they just wanted to stay in for a little bit before meeting the word.

“Y/N…” He shifts into the room, beautiful face weighed with concern. “We can go just to check–”

“I’m not doing that Jeongguk.” It’s firm and a little mean but he was fussing like he was the one with a huge baby sitting on his bladder.

“Alright.” It’s a quiet resignation. He moulds into the pillow beside you, careful not to brush against your belly. During the early stages you didn’t mind but now there was a sensitivity that left you irritated and vexed if his hand lingered for longer that five seconds. But you can feel him staring at it and a part of you feels bad for dismissing his concerns. You reach out without a second thought, guiding his palm to the side of your tummy where the kicks echo through.

A huff drifts from his mouth, soft and wondrous. “Strong little girl,” he mumbles, following the pads of the kicks as they breach from under your skin.

“Girl? Did my mom tell you?”

“It’s definitely a girl. She’s stubborn for staying in there when I want to me her. Exactly like you.”

You flick his forehead, caught off guard by the awe sitting in his wide doe eyes. “Mean.”

“How?” Jeongguk whines, petal lips forming a pout. “Bubba, your Mom is calling me mean. Imagine – me!”

“And you called her stubborn.”

“I called you stubborn, she’s a by-product of you so it’s still really your fault.” That playful glint surfaces with an ease that shouldn’t leave you breathless. You hope she has his eyes

“Jeon, shut-up before I something terrible happens to you.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? It’s been six years of empty threats. If you wanted me gone you wouldn’t have had my kid.” You close your eyes in frustration, missing the very important airport scene that all romantic comedies tend to milk to the point of death. Jeongguk laughs at your misery, cooing with the baby kicks against your belly again, as if she’s laughing with him.

She. You’ve been avoiding any gender nouns since the baby shower but now that word seems fitting. A little girl. Your daughter.

“You’re both horrible people,” you return, idly dropping popcorn in your mouth.

Jeongguk gasps, as false as the acting displayed on your television. “Bubba did you hear that? Mom called you a horrible person and she was calling me mean!”

You whack his head, whining when the baby responds to his silly comment with a fist into your stomach. “God, Jeon stop. She gets hyper when you talk to her.”

“She?” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow, still smiling.

“She,” you return.

He falls quiet, staring at your stomach with careful consideration before you see it click in his head. “Anyway, as I was saying –”

“Jeongguk!”

It’s too late and your girl is already awake, kicking and punching every which way like you’re not the sole thing keeping her alive. Jeongguk just giggles but moves with to resettle the pillows behind your back, alleviating what discomfort he can. The tension that gripped the air suddenly lets loose, a calmness filling your head as the evening draws to a close. You only get anxious when you have to slip into bed with him, stomach too far stretched out for you to attain any source of ease. Jeongguk’s already learned to read you well, giving you space and extra pillows where he can, the only thing you hold onto during the night his hand. Somehow, you fall asleep, until your body jerks you awake, a searing pain bleeding through your lower limbs. The ache eats through your grogginess, pulling you up and out of bed where you find with a sudden violent shock that your pyjama pants are soaked. And yet you never panic, fumbling for the lights and heading to the bathroom to pat yourself awake before the next wave of pain stings through.

You poke Jeongguk awake, his eyes snapping open with an urgency that startles you.

“What’s wrong?” His back rips from the mattress as he twists to take you in. “Are you hurt? Sore? Hungry?”

“None of those. I think my water just broke though.”

“Your – what? W-water? You think?” There’s a pause, and then Jeongguk is bounding from the bed like he’s being hunted down and chased. The paleness that sweeps over his face coaxes a giggle out of you, which is immediately washed away by another brief bout of pain.

“Shit,” the word is mumbled again and again under his breath as he runs through the house, collecting last minute things. In a moment he’s guiding you to the door with no shirt but shoes on, keys gripped tight in his hand. “Do we do the breathing thing now? And when was the last contraction? I need to time them.”

“Jeongguk,” you sigh, “Could I change first. I don’t think going to the hospital in Micky Mouse pyjamas is very fitting. And you need to put a shirt on.”

He freezes, spine straight and forehead beading with sweat. “S-sorry–shit. I’m just freaking out let me help you.”

“I’m freaking out too, Jeon. But let’s be calm about it right?”

“Right,” he returns. “But we seriously need to get to the hospital because of the baby comes right now I might faint.”

“Not helping. Jeongguk!”

“Yeah, of course. You put out the set you wanted in the first drawer right?”

“Second drawer. The light blue ones.”

He leaves you staring at the hard wooden floors of your home as he runs to get them, a slight sweat building down your back. The contractions are still spread out, not frequent or concerning just yet. You wanted to stay home for a little to be frank, but judging from the frazzled nature of Jeongguk’s movements you’d rather not ask your boyfriend to wait before rushing into the hospital. You watch him with fondness as he dresses you in the living-room, doe eyes wide with concern and stuck on your stomach. There’s a shirt over his head at least, and a change from his sleeping sweats into clean dark ones.

“Jeongguk,” you whisper.

“Yes?” It’s said with high-alert. “Does it hurt? Should we do the breathing–”

“Jeongguk,” you interrupt. “I think you need to calm down.”

“I am calm.”

You give him a look.

“Okay, I’m not calm,” Jeongguk returns. “But I’m also facing the very real fact that our baby has decided to come into the world in the middle of the night and you’re not freaking out at all which is making me very nervous.”

“I am,” you reply. “I’m just trying to contain it because I don’t want to make it worse. And while I love you Jeongguk I need you not to go crazy on me right now. And I thought you wanted to meet her, she’s decided to come today since you were complaining about it.”

He frowns, lips puckered in an exasperated pout. “Sorry–just–it’s just–I didn’t think it was going to be this scary.”

“It’s not. We just need to get the hospital and everything is going to be okay. So let’s focus on getting into the car first and then we can do the breathing practises, okay.”

Jeongguk stills, eyes drifting to your stomach. You see his shoulder fall lax, a sudden protectiveness lingering on his face. “Okay, let’s start with that.”

→

You were wrong. Very wrong. About everything. Staying at home for even twenty minutes more would have been the worst decision you had ever made because when you baby decided to come into the world, she decided she was coming in fast. Viciously fast. Maybe Jeongguk’s crazed concerned was warranted. Your contractions speed up and get worse during the brief trip to the hospital, and by the time you’re walking in past the doors you’re considered maiming Jeongguk so that he never gets the idea that you want a child again. The staff is incredibly helpful, leading you to your room and bed while Jeongguk calls his parents and yours. It feels both rushed and like everyone is taking their sweet time with you, as if there was a baby literally trying to rip its way out of you. The nurses take the noting of the times Jeongguk recorded, immediately pointing out that your contractions have speed up but not enough to head down to the theatre. Soomi arrives during the two hours they give you to settle, occasionally popping into the check your dilation and contractions.

Her hair is a mess and you can hear the faint sound of Jimin consoling Jeongguk in the hallway. Which is stupid because he’s not the one giving birth, you are.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Soomi starts, drawing near with a container of food. She notes the look of disdain you throw it’s in direction, quickly discards it on a nearby stool.

“Thinking about killing Jeongguk,” you respond. The epidural you requested is not kicking in fast enough.

She laughs, a bright thing that eases you edges a little. “I said the exact same thing when Bora decided to come.”

“Where is she?” You ask, forcing a smile when Jimin walks in the stupid spawn of evil who put you in this hospital bed.

“Taehyung’s. Seokjin and Yoongi are coming tomorrow morning. You think she’ll be here by then? Soomi inquires. You catch the slip of her tongue, a faint smile spreading on your lips as you mumble a greeting to Jimin.

“So it is a girl,” you comment. Jeongguk halts beside you. Maybe you won’t murder him just yet.

“W-well, I – I mean – well, yes it is.”

You’re glad Soomi was the only one who knew. A secret kept right until the last minute.

“I told you,” Jeongguk interjects. “I had a feeling.”

“And I’m feeling like ending your life, so maybe don’t talk right now.”

Jimin’s laughter is loud and unabashed, a direct contrast to the nervous blush staining Jeongguk’s cheeks.

“And now you know why I was scared of Soomi, right?” Jimin comments, ignoring the threatening glare his wife spears into his head. “Have you picked a name yet?”

“Not really,” you return, noticing Jeongguk’s sudden silence. You reach for his hand, heart aching with the fear you might have heart him. He responds automatically, clinging right back onto you. “But there are ideas. We’ll know when we see her.” You say the last sentence while staring at his face, mind already conjuring the image of your girl. Will she have his nose? His cherry cheeks? Will she smile like him? You hope she does – Jeongguk has the best smile in the world. He’s staring at your face like he’s wondering the same, gaze flicking over your features with careful consideration, a gentleness in his eyes that warms you heart even when your contractions decide to resurface, clamouring to be heard in the waves of pain that follow.

“Hey,” there’s a soft hand on your head. “You’ll be okay.” Jeongguk looks worried but you can see him trying to hide it, shoulder tense but his eyes soft.

You respond with a mumbled noise of agreement. “Yeah, when this baby gets the hell out of me. Can somebody call the nurse; my beeper isn’t working.”

Jimin does, leaving Soomi and Jeongguk to hang over you like grey clouds in the sky. You stop focusing on them, letting the murmurs of their encouragement fade into the distance as your focus settles on the bright luminescent hospital lights. Everything shifts into a state of surrealness, marked by moments of doctors prodding you and Jeongguk catching your gaze from his place at your side. Eventually you’re pushed into the theatre room, followed by a trembling Jeon Jeongguk in scrubs and a mask. Soomi and Jimin linger in the hallways while the only thing you hear is one stupid word.

You push until you think you’ve split into two, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand because he should go through this pain too. He doesn’t protest, mumbling words of comfort in your ear while you attempt to crack the bones in his hand.

“You’re doing so well – see look she’s almost here,” he murmurs, hand a grounding force when he strokes your cheek. “Just one more, my love. One more push.”

And then finally, finally, you hear that cry, the pressure in your hips waning. It’s immediately replaced by a quiet awe descending on your both. The nurses congratulate you, cleaning and swaddling your baby up before hastily placing her on your chest. If the tears on your face are from pain or love you wouldn’t know. They are one and the same right now, the splitting of your heart aching in your chest as the love for your child pours out. She’s got his nose. You see it instantly, her eyes are still shut, but you think she has his eyes too. She’s so adorable and too tiny for the world. You feel it then, the fierce need to protect her from anything and everything. Jeongguk’s drops down to your level too, enclosing you both like he feels it too. There’s no need for words to be said, the silent exchange of wonder between you two enough as your baby breaks into weak forlorn cry.

Her name is a quiet decision, vocalised by Jeongguk reaching to graze his thumb across her small cheek. “Hello Jieun-ie…. Hi baby... Don’t cry bubba, we’re here. Hmm, we’re here my love.”

→

Jieun is a blessing. There’s something about her gummy little smile and those chubby mochi like cheeks that makes your heart warm with adoration. She’s got Jeongguk’s eyes too, little stars trapped in her loving gaze. It’s almost addictive, how soft and plush she is in your arms. You want her to stay small and tiny forever, under the protective gaze of her mother. Even the slightest thought of anything negative happening to her, makes your heart seize with terror. You didn’t know it was possible to have space for this much love in your heart but Jieun’s carved out a place just for her, a home in your heart besides Jeongguk.

You try and think of that love and warmth during moments like this - when she’s up all night, screaming her lungs out. You’ve checked her diaper, nothing. You’ve gently directed her wailing mouth to your nipple, immediate rejection from her chubby hands. You’ve rocked her around the room for the past forty minutes, softly bouncing her against your hip, but to no avail either. She’s not hungry, or dirty or tired. You’re lost on how to ease her back to sleep and your patience is quickly wearing thin. The gurgle of spit on your shoulder isn’t making the situation any more tolerable either anyway.

“Why’s my baby crying,” Jeongguk coos from the bedroom, voice groggy with sleep. You’d left him in bed and taken Jieun out when she’d gotten fussy, afraid to rouse him. He’d picked up some long shift once again and it pained you to see him shuffle to work early in the morning with barely any sleep on his face.

“I’ve got her; you can go back to sleep.” You try to reassure him but the incredulous look he gives in you in response has your put together facade crumbling. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” It’s mumbled in the cool air of your apartment, the shame in your tone drawing him closer.

“Hungry?” He says, there’s a hand against the small of your back, warm from the bed he was wrapped in.

“No,” You whine back, briefly closing your eyes when Jieun lets out a particular ear splitting wail.

“Oh no, baby. Don’t cry. Daddy’s here.” You press her into his hands wordlessly, a heavy weight on your chest when you finally take a look at him. He looks like he’s been run over by a truck, skin pasty and flat from sleep. His hair sticks out haphazardly from his head, a wild brown mane that’s overdue for a cut. There’s shadows under his eyes and a deep line forming between his eyebrows. A consequence of how often he frowns at things. Like he’s doing at Jieun now, eyes barely open in the dim light filling your living room.

You subconsciously reach out, pressing the pad of your thumb between his brows and massaging until his gaze relaxes. Jeongguk looks at you perplexed, murmuring sweetly into Jieun’s ear while he stains his shirt with her snot.

“Premature wrinkles,” you softly mutter. His eyes flash and then he’s shaking his head, gaze focused on Jieun.

“Bubba, why do you keep crying? Hmm?” He lifts her up gently, sniffing her bottom while she protests violently. “You’re not dirty either.” He cradles her tenderly once again and for a brief moment, she closes her mouth, wide eyes on her daddy. Neither of you move, frozen by the hope that she's satiated. And then her lips purse tightly, followed by them falling open with a thundering wail.

“Jesus,” Jeongguk whispers, hands gently running along her back. “Where do you get your lungs from? Huh bubba?” Jieun responds with a miserable cry, grubby hands flailing through the air. You catch one for her marshmallow fists, bemused when she smacks your hand away.

“What is wrong with her?” You can’t help but ask, feeling like you’ve been thrown off a boat and left to drown. Parenting shouldn’t be this difficult —  she’s only five months.

“Honestly?” Jeongguk's face seems down. “I don’t know either.” He rocks her softly and is rewarded by a softer cry. It takes a couple more minutes of bouncing from Jeongguk for her crying to wane away. You cautiously move closer, taking her hand into your own again, heart thumping when she grabs back at you tightly. You trail your thumb against her tiny fist, glancing up to find Jeongguk staring at your joint hands with a weird look in his eyes.

“Should we go to bed?” He asks, peering at you beneath his long brown bangs. Jieun hiccups at that, immediately falling silent when she nuzzles in her father’s neck. They have the same soft wavy brown hair, but Jieun’s is a little bit sparser, not as thick as her Daddy’s. You gently pry your hand away from hers as you nod, a pleased sigh coming from Jeongguk.

The bed is cool, sheets tipping towards the floor. There’s only a fraction of warmth against your skin when you finally crawl in, bones going soft at the touch of the mattress. Jeongguk makes a move to settle Jieun in her cradle but you shake your head, hand gesturing to the space beside you. He gets in without another word, gently resting her body between the two of you. Her breathing is even, eyes fluttering every other moment, teasing dreams you won’t ever hear and she won’t ever remember. You hope they’re good regardless.

You can’t help the wandering hand that settles on her plush little thigh, fingers grazing against the soft skin there. She’s so big already, it’s insane to see her grow so quickly right before your eyes. This was the girl who was kicking your stomach at every chance and sitting heavy on your bladder. The little baby that demanded you eat pickles with ice-cream and Cheetos dipped in chocolate syrup when she was in your belly. It’s surreal to see her sighing and gurgling outside of your body. It also makes you nervous, how little control you have over her environment. There’s no way you can ensure that she’s comfortable and safe at all times. Or happy and fulfilled. Which hurts like hell. This is your baby and you would do anything to protect her.

Maybe Jeongguk must feel the same because he pipes up, breaking the quiet of the night. “Are you worried? About Jieun?”

“Of course. Aren’t you?”

“All the damn time,” He mutters. You look up, eyes landing on the heavy gaze that’s directed at her sleeping face. “I’m so worried. What if we’re messing this up? I know we’ve barely started but sometimes it feels like too much. I don’t want to see her cry or you tired all the time. How do we know we’re doing the right thing? I want to make sure she’s stable and safe but there’s so much more to come and I’m going to mess up. I know I will.”

It’s a lot for you to digest. The way he blurts it out — it sounds like it’s been on his mind for a while now. It’s a stark contrast to the surety you were greeted with in the delivery room and the man who wanted this to happen in the first place. He doesn’t sound regretful, just terrified of the uncertainty of the future.

“Jeongguk,” You say, trying to wipe the exhaustion from your voice. He needs someone to lean on right now, and even if your heart feels heavy with the words he’s said, you’ll pretend to be that person anyway. “That’s okay. I’m going to mess up too. There’s no manual on how to do this. No one knows how to be a parent. Every child is different. We’re never going to be perfect. We just need to try our best at this.” You reach for his hand, intertwining your small fingers against his larger bigger ones. You give them a squeeze, pleased when Jeongguk looks up at you. “That’s all we need to do. Not everything will be perfect. We just need to try our best to make Jieun happy. Right?” He nods at that, holding your hand tighter. “And stop worrying. She loves you. You’re a great dad.”

He stares at you deeply, still gripping your hand. You watch that soft smile slip onto his face in silence, a warmth bubbling in your chest.

“And you’re a great mom,” He whispers back. You ache to lean over Jieun’s sleeping body, press a chaste kiss against your boyfriend’s lips. But a loud gurgle from her has both of you glancing down concerned. She’s kicking her legs gently, mouth halfway open and drool around her lips. You wipe her mouth fondly, letting go of Jeongguk’s hand to do so.

“We should sleep, shouldn’t we,” He mumbles, burrowing his head into the pillow.

“We should.”

“Hmm. Goodnight bubba,” He whispers at Jieun and then he glances up, eyes soft. “Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jeongguk,” You return, giddy for some stupid reason. “Goodnight Jieun-ie.”

There’s a beat of silence, when the air is only filled with the rise and fall of your chests in union, punctuated by the occasional sigh from Jieun. And then Jeongguk is kicking your feet beneath the blanket, eyes open and on you.

“I love you,” He whispers, crust forming around his eyes. You kick him back, a warm feeling settling in your chest as your eyes flicker between your baby and the love of your life. It’s oddly perfect, despite the lack of sleep, despite how groggy the both of you are, despite the uncertainty of the future. None of that matters at that moment. Because you’re here, in your home, in bed with the two people you hold near and dear to your heart. You’ll tackle it together, whatever challenges the future holds for you. Because this is your family.

“I love you too, Jeongguk.”

[iiraven]

Fool-Proof Plan

Pairing: Erwin x reader

Genre: fluff, comedy, smut, modern AU

Warnings: size kink, masturbation, squirting, fingering in front of a mirror, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, manhandling, degradation, praise, established relationship, slight dumbification, choking/ breath play 

Word count: 4.6K

Synopsis: Erwin’s business trip leads you to realise you’re not as sly as you think you are.

Masterlist

Erwin Smith is a man capable of absolutely everything. He’s an amazing cook, an amazing masseur, an amazing businessman, and, most of all, an amazing husband.

There’s only one small shortcoming to the person you consider to be perfect. And that’s his inability to use any form of technology. Texting is bad enough with him signing his name after every message, but it’s social media that’s your husband’s true sworn enemy. Erwin might only be a few years your senior, but somehow your grandfather can comprehend the concept of Instagram faster than him.

“So, you just take pictures?”

“Yes.”

“And people respond to it?”

“Yes.”

“Alright but why?”

The conversation is nothing new, but you find it incredibly unfortunate knowing how talented he is at photography. If you two ever go someplace Erwin knows he wants to capture, he slings his camera over his neck, leaves his phone at home (“I won’t be taking any calls today”) and makes his merry way out of the house. You often eye the phone left stray on the desk, half-expecting it to chase you out of the house for abandoning it. Sometimes, for good measure, you slip it into your own bag. Just in case.

It’s for this reason that Erwin’s business trip puts you on immediate edge.

“It’ll only be for ten days,” he had said. “Sina Corporations takes their summits really seriously…”

“Ten days?” You repeated and Erwin gave you a soft smile.

“I’ll call you every day.”

It’s not like you have an obsessive attachment to your husband (well, that’s debatable), but breaking the routine of returning home to his warm hugs, listening to his day and then complaining about your own- it’s uncomfortable. 

Erwin himself wasn’t looking forward to being away from you, away from home. Running Survey Corporations Ltd is no easy task; trying to balance the infuriating board and the long hours with his actual life is something only possible because of you. Time spent together is fine diamonds Erwin clutches onto and although he’d tried to reason with himself that it was only ten days, it wasn’t a trip he was looking forward to. He never said it out loud. But he didn’t need to. You can tell by the way Erwin’s lips linger on yours a little longer at the airport, as if to preserve your taste.

“Oi Erwin- hurry up.” Levi tries hard not to glare. But even the raven-haired man knows that being away from you puts Erwin on somewhat of an edge. You’re his rock, there to ground him when everything is chaotic, and a summit surrounded by the richest people in the world is as chaotic as it gets.

Despite it all, Erwin stays true to his promise. He calls you at least twice a day and although you could stay on the phone with him for hours, he’s often rushing between conferences and can only spare minutes of his time. Even when he does have an hour, talking to a disembodied voice (he still can’t figure out how to switch his camera back around) is not the same as having Erwin right beside you. It’s the way he squeezes your thigh when he’s focussing on what you’re saying or when he pulls you towards him so that you can lie on his hard chest which still makes you blush even after years of being together.

Because, yes, you miss his touch the most.

Not even five days in, you find yourself with your hands down your panties and a tall blond man on your mind. You’re soaked just thinking about him. His groans, the way he calls your name, the way he pounds into you as you lose your train of thought. Your fingers try to imitate his- their curve and how easily they find your soft spot- but it just feels uncomfortable. So, then you try rubbing your clit, and there’s temporary pleasure there, but not even close enough to tip you over the edge. Even your pink vibrator doesn’t cut it. You deny the fact that Erwin Smith has made you an incompetent masturbator, but you can’t keep up the lie for long and soon enough you give up.

It’s the next day that your ingenious idea kindles. It’s a fool-proof plan. A small flame that has you rushing to the bathroom for the best possible lighting. Erwin can still put his tongue to use at a distance- after all, it’s his voice you fell in love with first. To discretely push him in the right direction, you send him a few photos of yourself. Nothing too scandalous safe he’s in a meeting, but enough that he’ll gets the hint. Sure, Erwin has a couple of polaroid pictures hidden in his brown leather wallet, but he had shot those himself. You want to be a bit more spontaneous! And, honestly, at this point you’re desperate. You could swear you’re developing withdrawal symptoms: just the other day, you were actually temped to pick up a newspaper. It was terrifying.

This had to work. You can just imagine Erwin calling you, voice deep and gruff as he guides you through the process to make yourself cum as he showers you with praise. You feel giddy, eyes glued to the glowing screen, awaiting his response. Even your pink vibrator is out of the box.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t exactly go the way you had planned.

One hour after sending the photos you receive a panicked text from Hange. In the long paragraph, you understand that your poor husband couldn’t get the photos to load and decided to consult the vice president of his company who, upon simply clicking on them, saw you groping your soapy tits. Had it been anyone other than vice president Hange Zoe, Erwin may have broken his phone and quit right there. Thankfully, he only said, “I see” and then asked her where to find the smiley face Emoji.

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N!” Hange screams through the phone. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise! I could send you a picture of my boobs! I’ll go do it right now! I’m sorry! No- You don’t need to feel embarrassed! I won’t mind!”

“It’s alright Hange.” You laugh nervously. “You don’t need to send me anything, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

The whack Levi lands on her head is so hard you hear it through the phone. “Shut the fuck up four-eyes.”

So here you are now. Three days until Erwin returns, a vibrator you’ve given up on back in its box, and a husband who responds to your nudes with a smiley face.

But then Hange Zoe sends you something much better than a picture of her boobs.

The hotel that the trio were staying at- as most hotels do- has a spa. And if there’s one thing Erwin Smith adores it’s allowing himself to relax in a warm, steamy sauna. You’re not sure how Hange was allowed to join them, or how she was able to get her camera clear of fog, or how she was even able to take the picture without Erwin noticing. But you ask her no questions.

Followed by a winky-face is a picture of Erwin sat in the sauna, head tilted backwards, and eyes shut in the pure image of serenity. His arms are propped up on either side of him accentuating his biceps whilst still allowing a clear view of his sculpted body, the sweat running down his chest and abs, making him almost glisten. He’s completely naked except for the flimsy white towel across his lap which does absolutely nothing to hide his thick dick print. You shudder.

You feel like a teenager again, speechless at the sight of a quasi- naked man. Even though you’ve seen him like this thousands of times, you can’t help but fantasise about being trapped underneath him, hair falling onto his face as he loses himself inside of you. God, maybe you do have an unhealthy obsession. But it doesn’t matter. You feel even more like a teenager as you imagine scenarios of him returning home to recreate the picture before you. And with that, your mind is sedated for the next few days.

You have a fool-proof plan. Dress up in the shortest and tightest dress you own, cook your husband dinner, and then give him a blow job at the table so that he’ll never leave you again. It’s going to be just like in the movies and nothing will stop that from happening.

Something stops that from happening.

Just as you’re about to put the potatoes in the oven, Erwin calls. His flight is delayed. You whine through the phone and Erwin’s chuckle just about stops you from sulking like a child. You can be mature about this, right? He’s getting home eventually- complaining isn’t going to help at all. Patience is a virtue and yours has been tested many times before. This is, after all, nothing compared to the time Erwin tried to create an excel spreadsheet. So, you don’t press further. You simply tell Erwin that you miss him and then go find a pillow in which you scream for a good five minutes.

Erwin, on the other hand, is a lot less coveted with his annoyance. He wants nothing more than to strangle whatever and whoever is preventing him from returning to his lovely wife. In the hour journey, the entire plane can feel a crushing tension above their heads, so tense that even the child at the back seems to be holding in his tears. 

Usually, Erwin prefers to spend his flights with a book in his hands, but he’s incapable for picking up the paperback and instead stares out of the window somehow hoping it will go faster.

After what feels like hours, the tight dress has gotten too uncomfortable for you to wear and you resolve yourself to eating the potatoes alone. You still don’t take off your lingerie, though. A two-piece black set with lace detailing that makes you look like a present ready to be unwrapped. It had arrived yesterday, and you had taken your sweet time admiring the embroidered flowers and soft ribbon holding the fragile piece together because you had falsely assumed that you wouldn’t have it on for long. You had in fact contemplated stockings but by the time 11PM came by you simply wrapped Erwin’s favourite robe around your body and tried to take your mind off things. Maybe you should have opted for your own robe because as the sleeves hung from your arms and the soft material effused his smell, it managed to make you feel even worse.

Staying up late was not a foreign feeling but anticipation quickly turns into boredom and you find your eyelids getting heavy. You pause the anime you’re watching and are about to shut your eyes when you hear the faint rattle of keys.

You stumble getting out of bed, knocking your shoulder on the wall before skipping four steps at a time and tripping on the robe at least twice as you rush downstairs. Erwin is barely through the door as you call out his name and he drops his bags right there to let your rush into your arms. You feel so small, so safe, so familiar, within them, as if you’ve returned to the space where you belong. He lifts you up to let you wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles barely crossing. He smells divine, even after hours of being stuck in an airport and his hair is still soft between your fingers. You look at him and the smile that spreads across his face wipes out any hints of fatigue that might have been there just moments ago.

Erwin kisses you and it’s long, deep, and he holds you impossibly closer to him as his tongue dips into your mouth. You don’t want it to end, but Erwin pulls back and says softly, “I’m home, my love.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Welcome home.”

You return to the kiss with a hint of desperation. Tugging lightly on Erwin’s shirt, you know he notices how your core is already warm, but still, he takes his time closing the door with his foot before finally noticing your attire. You’re about to make a sarcastic comment about his obliviousness but the way he looks down at you, at the small flower of lace peeping out from under the heavy robe, the way he slowly wets his lips, he leaves you speechless.

“You’re a gift.” He smiles sweetly though his eyes darken.

“Well, you’ve been working really hard,” You mumble. “You deserve a treat.”

The effect this man has on you is unbelievable. All that anger and frustration you had pent up now crumbles at the light caress of his thumb on your hips.

“Let me unwrap you,” Erwin says. And he walks you to your room, climbing up the stairs with ease as you cling onto him. You attempt to rub yourself against his hard stomach, but one look of warning makes you stop. He’s going to be doing things on his watch, tonight.

Setting you on the floor beside your bed, Erwin undoes the ribbon and you let the fabric pool at your feet. He immediately latches onto your neck, and you gasp, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands begin to roam, fingering the delicate lace of your panties and the straps of your bra as his tongue leaves a trail over your chest. It’s only when Erwin suddenly grabs your breast that you moan, body involuntarily pushing towards him.

He looks up through thick eyelashes and his hands moves to cup your face. You’re about to beg him to touch you where you need it most, but he whispers, “you’re so beautiful.” And you’re speechless again.

You suddenly lean in to kiss him, hands wrapping around his neck and it’s messy and your breath is short. “Please, Erwin,” you say to him between kisses. “Touch me.” You can feel him smile against your lips. “Please”. And before you can stop yourself. “I can’t do it myself.”

Erwin stills and only then do you realise your mistake. He pulls back and stands up straight, towering over you and you recognises that look. It’s the one of a lion who has just found a wounded deer. 

“Oh?”

Fuck. He leans back and raises a brow expectantly and you try to look everywhere but at him. Maybe if you avoid eye contact, he’ll take it as a slip of the tongue. But your husband is not one to let things go. He’s intelligent, he knows exactly what you mean- you don’t need to speak for him to gather what happened, the image of you lying pathetically on the bed, hopeless and desperate. He smirks but stays quiet. Erwin likes it when you use your words.

“No-that’s not what I meant. I mean- you feel best and it’s just-“

You’re cut off by a hand on your scalp, pulling your hair back in one swift motion so that you have no choice but to look up at your husband dead in the eye.

“You were touching yourself whilst I was away, Y/N?”

“I-I mean...yeah…”

“I see.” His gaze is enough to make you gush. “And you weren’t able to make yourself cum.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s not a question, but you affirm it anyways. “No, no I couldn’t make myself cum.”

He’s silent for a moment and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s watching your worried face or because he’s wondering how he’s going to make that face look even more worried.

“I would feel sorry for you, but I suppose that’s what you deserve for touching my cunt without my permission.”

You gasp as he uses his grip on your hair to throw you on the bed. It’s effortless, the way his strength could so easily destroy you and yet he uses it to ruin destroy you in another way- just who you like it. Erwin undoes his tie and all you can do is gawk as he strips down to his boxers. He’s as hard as a rock and you tentatively reach out to touch him, but Erwin grabs your wrist. Without warning, you’re dragged to the other side of the bed where you’re placed to face your large floor length mirror. There’s only a moment of confusion before you understand why Erwin had been so keen on the somewhat awkward placement. He positions himself behind you and you withhold the urge to press your back against his throbbing cock.

“Don’t you take your eyes off the mirror,” Erwin commands, and you nod your head. “Use your words. Or do you need me to show you how to do that too?”

“Yes, sir,” You say quickly.

“Good girl.”

Erwin opens your legs, his hands gripping your thighs hard. You silently wish bruises bloom in their wake- it’s been too long since you’ve had your husband’s mark on you. A reminder of who you belong to. One hand stays on your thigh and the other moves to nudge your panties out of the way of your glistening cunt. 

“I’m going to show you how to touch yourself,” He says in a low, rumbling voice. “And you’re going to watch closely and learn. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

His fingers don’t tease your folds for long. Erwin is feeling merciful, because he simply gathers the slick coating your cut before immediately rubbing your clit. The moan that leaves your mouth is pornographic. You buck your hips but the hand on your thigh moves to pin you down, your body flush against his so that you can almost feel his bearing heart. You’re engulfed by him so small as he easily manipulates your body.

Erwin is overwhelmed by the options. Look at his wife unravel below him or stare at the mirror, where you have no place to hide.

“I should be punishing you, you know.” He presses his fingers down hard on a particularly tenter spot and you moan loudly. “But I need to show my dumb little girl how to take care of herself.”

“I-I’m not- ahhh.” Your back arches and Erwin captures your neck again, sucking viciously.

As his thumb continues its assault on your clit, two fingers find your tight hole, dripping and clenching around nothing. He can see in the mirror how your body is practically begging to be filled up. And fill you up he will. But first Erwin inserts a finger and groans at the warmth that greets him. He begins moving it and although you try to understand how he is able to stroke your cunt so perfectly, your mind is fogged and all that’s on your mind is your impending release. This should be a learning experience, but it serves only as a reminder of Erwin’s miraculous hands. He slips his second finger in and your moans only get lounder.

“Erwin, Erwin- they feel so good. Your fingers feel so good!”

You can see his smirk in his reflection, just before he speeds up and you have to grab his wrist to steady yourself. His fingers slam back and forth into your velvety walls. They suck them in, and he is able to find your sweet spot every time. Every single time. Your eyes roll back, you press against Erwin’s chest and your legs shake as you cum. The mess you make, leaking all over Erwin’s hands, your bed, your thighs- you try to look away, but he grabs your face to prevent you from doing so.

“Don’t you dare look away.” His voice is low, threatening. “Look how good I make you feel. Look.”

Your cheeks are flushed and the set that had made you look like a femme fatale, just hours before, is now yet another set that has has you pliant and submissive. “It seems that I’m the only one who can take care of you,” Erwin says. And you know he’s right.

Erwin lifts his soaked fingers to his mouth and his eyes flutter shut as he tastes you. When he opens them, you swear they’ve gone a shade darker. Wordlessly, Erwin slips from behind you to kneel in front of the bed. He removes your panties and holds them up to his nose, giving them a slight inhale before tossing them to the side and lowering his mouth.

“Erwin wai-“

And before you can warn him that your too sensitive- you orgasm was too strong, it’s too soon- his mouth has latched onto your cunt and Erwin is eating you out like a starved man.

“Ah-fuck, fuck, fuck,” You practically scream.

He sucks on your clit, his tongue doing what it does best. You look down, his eyes bore into yours and you know he’s remembering every expression you make as he pushes you over the edge. Despite your trembling arms struggling to keep you upright, your hand goes to grip Erwin’s hair and all you can think about is how soft it is before you cum again. Your husband doesn’t stop this time. His fingers dig into your soft hips to make sure you don’t move, to make sure that he catches everything on his tongue. And he can feel it before you do. The steady build-up of a feeling slightly familiar, but foreign enough that you warn Erwin too late. Your back arches and you squirt in his mouth and before your eyes roll back, you catch a glimpse of what you know to be a smirk in your husband’s eyes.

You can feel the sheets soak below you so try to press your legs together in somewhat of an attempt to hide the mess, but Erwin doesn’t let you. “Don’t be ashamed now, darling.” His voice is solid, domineering. “This is just you perfect body, doing exactly what I tell it to,” He says.

He could be talking about fruits and you would still nod your head dumbly.

The power Erwin has over you is addictive, and your body seems to know it too. As he kisses your thighs, licking off whatever didn’t find its way into his mouth, you can still feel a distant ache at your core. This time, you don’t need to use your words. As you lie weak on the bed, Erwin crawls over, engulfing your form. The lion is ready for his meal. He leans down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. “I missed you,” He says. It’s the hundredth time, but you don’t tire of hearing it.

“I missed you too.”

Erwin shifts your legs, and you can feel the head of his large cock teasing your entrance.

“I missed all of you,” he repeats. “Your smile. Your voice. Your moans.” He pauses to place a kiss on your collarbone. “Your taste.”

He’s trying to be romantic, but you know why he stalls, and it makes you unable to graciously except the compliments. Erwin loves to hear you pine for him. And who are you to refuse your husband’s desires? So, you reach your hands out towards his shoulders, attempting to make him move if only a little bit. “Erwin!” You whine, and despite your weakness, you manage to push your hips forward, finding friction against his hard cock. “Please!”

Again, that smirk. He rubs against your clit. “My, my- you’ve come twice already and want more?”

Well, he missed your voice so you suppose you should let him hear it. “Let me be selfish, please sir?” You moan. “I need you inside of me.”

His cock twitches against you. And before you know it his hand is around your neck. “Such a good girl, using your words like that.”

He pushes inside you with a groan of relief, a low sound from his throat that causes his eyes to close momentarily. 

It seems you’ve forgotten how big he is because as he stretches you out like it’s your first time, your mouth drops open and a string of curses emerges. Erwin would usually reprimand you for the foul language, but he’s too lost in the feeling of your tight cunt pulling him in. Using your neck as leverage, he squeezes tight so that he can push forward and when your eyes blur, overwhelmed with the pleasure and pain and the lack of oxygen intensifying it all, Erwin loosens his grip only slightly, and your eyes find his again. You don’t notice your mouth hanging open, too focussed on the way your body is accommodating Erwin’s cock again.

“Really big, ‘s really big, sir,” You mumble and Erwin grunts in response, his teeth clenching because he too is reminded yet again of how tight- how perfect- your body is for him.

When Erwin bottoms out, he stills for a moment, basking in your warmth and taking a moment to kiss your cheek, a gentle gesture compared to the hand still grasping your neck. Your cunt gushes despite you wincing about the pain, about his size, and soon he can’t help but move his hips. Erwin pulls back and thrusts deep. You scream him name, as you feel his cock dragging against your walls. Any idea of taking you gently has evaporated from Erwin’s brain and instead his hips snap back and forth violently, his tip kissing your cervix as he buries himself inside of you again and again.

His grunts are laboured as Erwin’s free hand pushes your leg up to your chest to allow him to thrust deeps and deeper. “Just like that- just like that, good girl. My good girl.”

The new angle has him brushing against your g-spot and you won’t last long. You know you can’t- not with him quite literally rearranging your insides. You have one hand clawing at his forearm and the other grips the sheets and you repeat a mantra of “Thank you, sir, thank you” in between your desperate moans. The honorific coming from your lips is too sweet to his ears and he’s reminded of why phone calls bother him so much- nothing compares to hearing your voice like this.  

Erwin’s hand leaves your neck only to tug your bra down, letting your boobs bounce freely as he fucks you hard. You almost complain about the loss of contact but his tongue latches onto to your nipple and before you know it, you are coming all over your husband, screaming his name. Your nails dig into his arm as he nears his own release. Erwin’s hips stutter and he moans your name before throwing his head back in pure bliss as he cums inside of you. You wish you can capture that sight forever, but you don’t think any photo does your husband justice. It’s true- this is better than anything Hange could send.

Your breaths slowly find a slower rhythm in the post-orgasm silence. Erwin watches the way your fluids pool out of you as he pulls out, admiring the own mess on his lower stomach. You wince at the sore feeling and pull him towards you. This time, he follows your command. Breathless bodies mould into each other, finding their place after too long being apart. At the back of your mind, you know you should be making your way to the bathroom, but Erwin’s heavy body lying on your chest is enough to remind you to focus on the moment. For this is where you belong.

“You know, you should be flattered, Erwin.” You nudge his arm weakly as you lay together, bodies entangled in a random set of pyjamas you begrudgingly forced yourself to change into. “No one has better hands than you.”

He laughs. “I am flattered,” he says. “I just like teasing you.”

“No- you have a degradation kink.”

“Yes, that too.”

Even as you were taking a shower together, Erwin’s subtle attempts at having you admit you couldn’t make yourself cum did not go unnoticed. You suppose it’s an ego-thing, but then you realise it’s more. The power of being the only person able to bring you that much bliss is power Erwin thrives on. And despite the money wasted on your pink vibrator, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Still,” Erwin muses and a small smile plays across his lips. “I did expect the photo Hange took to at least help a little.”

Every muscle in your body stills and your eyes suddenly widen. Oh come on. You try to tell yourself that there’s simply nothing wrong with having a photo of your naked husband, but it’s more than that. You know it. Erwin knows it. And by the way he’s smiling, you also know that plastered on your face is the guiltiest of looks. In your poor attempt to escape his gaze by turning your back to him, Erwin chuckles and shakes his head, hugging you closer.

“That’s not fair!” You exclaim.

“It’s not?”

“No!”

You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but Erwin is made of steel. Why do you expect to get away with anything anymore? Erwin Smith is beyond two moves ahead- he’s finished the game before you’ve even started.

“Did you really think I didn’t notice?” 

“Shut up!” You whine. “Why do you have to be such a smartass about it? Let me think I win.”

“Alright, alright.” Erwin chuckles and places a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my winner. Always.”

[suranet]

Hello!! I love your combaticons art so much!! And I love hearing your headcanons! So I was wondering if you had any about Onslaught/Blast-Off such as how they got together and the other Combaticons reactions if you don't mind sharing your thoughts?

firstly, thank you for the compliments, Anon! (*⁰▿⁰*) secondly, absolutely do i have headcanons about how my top favorite robot ship could get together and what the rest of the team’s opinions might be about it!!!

some caveats before I share tho: i view the multiple versions of Onslaught and Blast Off across continuities (the continuities that i’ve personally familiar w/ that the Combaticons appear in, anyway) as different enough characters that how i picture them interacting in one series doesn’t always map to their interactions in another series, or to my personal fan continuity.

and since there tends to be no specific canon details to explain how the Combaticons originally met and became a team (were they built together? were they not? did the five of them meet before the war happened or while it was already underway? were they friends or strangers?), there’s breathing room for many possible backstories to run w/. my ideas vary accordingly. o9

G1: one of my headcanons is that they develop an interest in each other over a period of working together, but G1 Onslaught is probably the one who makes the first move. because G1 Blast Off is… he’s a condescending snob. the sort where he’s too proud to not make a potential sailor prove they’re willing to work for the gift of Blast Off’s attention, even if Blast Off secretly reciprocates the feelings being expressed. Onslaught makes a few passes hinting he might be up to a long-term romantic hook-up and Blast Off goes, “hmm… i’m intrigued but i’m hardly going to just give in instantly. impress me. convince me.” meanwhile, Onslaught is a career strategist who has no problem with plotting a plan to do just that. Onslaught’s has plenty of confidence, he’s used to dealing with Blast Off’s less-than-communicative attitude, and he likes coming out on top. the story of two jerks, falling in love!

an opposing alternative G1 idea to this is that their relationship started off as more of a steady pre-war alliance that evolved. they kept operating under a shared delusion that everything between them was 100% casual, no feelings, none, nobody here is going to admit to weakness or anything! right up until one of them nearly dies in a battle and the other is forced to confront the fact they both have. caught feelings.

i’m also partial to another separate true-to-G1-nonsense-logic scenario. in a series of wacky mishaps Blast Off and Onslaught are fake-married on some alien planet for fooling-bureaucracy purposes and don’t remember to have the marriage annulled once the mission is over… which turns into the excuse they use to start dating. hey, Blast Off is calm, reliable, and the teammate that causes Onslaught the least amount of headaches on a good day, why not?

of course, one can also go the opposite direction where G1 On/Off is an ongoing mutual power struggle between the biggest egomaniac on the team (Ons) and the second-biggest egomaniac on the team (Blast Off)! in this headcanon, Blast Off’s only obedient as long as Onslaught demonstrates he’s a good leader and Onslaught’s keen to exercise his authority in showing him that he is.

listen, why would i pick one idea for G1 where i could have dozens of AUs to play in?

the other G1 Combaticons would probably be like: Swindle = doesn’t care unless he can figure out how to make money from it or On/Off squabbling affects him Vortex = free entertainment! free material to needle at! Brawl = if they have a wedding, he wants to cause trouble at it for kicks

Aligned/FOC: I’m drawing from the old FOC games for this. one of the headcanon ideas I came up w/ was an AU where Aligned On/Off were already married before the war and they co-founded the Combaticons as a group of soldiers-for-hire. Blast Off was a disgraced noble and Onslaught was a veteran soldier. they don’t bring it up at work or overtly show it. so it takes a century for the other Combaticons to realize they’re not having a side fling, they’re legally hitched.

picturing Vortex being surprised Onslaught actually bothered to go through the legal channels for something that wasn’t a military matter and surprised Blast Off dropped his stuck-up act long enough to say yes. Onslaught is a little offended Vortex didn’t believe he could be assed to sign some dumb civilian paperwork for commitment. Blast Off is a little offended by Vortex’s comment about him acting superior. Swindle uses this as an opportunity to have a go at Vortex for not noticing, because hey, usually failing to notice the obvious is Brawl’s gig! (Swindle has no room to talk: he only realized it a few decades ahead of Vortex or Brawl.) Brawl and Vortex react to this as expected. a normal day in the workplace.

alternatively: an IDW1-influenced scenario where Aligned Blast Off is wordlessly protective towards and pining after Aligned Onslaught and hasn’t confessed yet and they have a wartime romance has crossed my mind before…

alternatively: poly FOC Combaticons is fun. i do ship the team as poly. in most series.

IDW1: this is the continuity where i am limiting myself to two short answers. to stop myself from talking for pages and pages about IDW1 Onslaught and Blast Off.

the first answer is the one in which canon happens, IDW1 On/Off get together under the storm of unhappy circumstances they do in TAAO, the other Combaticons are supportive and all for it… after years of unaddressed pining and tension, look! finally some steps forward! maybe this will work out w/o anything going horribly wrong! … before it goes horribly wrong and the truth of what went down between Blast Off and Screamer is revealed. the other Combaticons switch to being angry and upset. nobody here would be having a good time, at all.

the second answer is the headcanon one where canon doesn’t happen and the Combaticons avoid the TAAO plot, leaving Onslaught and Blast Off free to sort out their shit on their own terms. and, if somebody can break the news to Onslaught about his second-in-command having a lovesick crush on him, maybe dating can happen. eventually.

TFA: Swindle is the only Combaticon that appears in TFA and none of the others do (and he’s not actually a Combaticon in TFA) but in an AU where they did… i like to picture a story w/ Decepticons Vortex and Blast Off repeatedly running into Autobots Onslaught, Swindle and Brawl, and a cross-faction affair being one of the factors that results in Onslaught and the others defecting to join the Deceptions. (not the only factor, because that would be absurd. Onslaught is ambitious.)

Swindle turns into more of a rogue agent that’s only loosely affiliated w/ them so he can do his part in the TFA plot while idk, Onslaught, Vortex, Brawl, and Blast Off are committing military mercenary crimes in deep space somewhere else.

[someonestolemyshoes]

Hi! Have u done any pregnant Hanji and overprotective daddy Levi already?? Yep i think im craving for more domestic levihan family, im sorry 😭

Im a bit new here in the community, and when i read ur works, i fell in love with it already, thank you for existing!!! 💖💖💖

Hello anon! Thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoyed my other fics :3 Sorry for the very long wait for this one, I've been struggling to find the time/motivation to write lately, but I'm feeling a little better and I figured I'd get to work on some of my prompts. Starting here!!

It ended up a little less domestic and a touch more angsty than I had originally planned, but only for a moment--happy endings all round! 

Warning: this does start off with non-graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting, I hope that doesn't bother you!

Hange had been feeling unwell for days.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence—Hange tended to wake up feeling nauseous some days, most often when she'd neglected to eat a decent meal the evening before—but this was the fourth morning in a row now, that Hange found herself bent over the toilet bowl in the early hours of the morning, heaving up nothing but acid and empty air. 

She retched until her stomach ached. There was nothing left to bring up, but her gut still rolled unpleasantly and there was a telling tremor under her tongue that warned her it might be best to stay in the bathroom a little while longer. She settled heavily against the wall to catch her breath.

It didn't make any sense. For most of the day, Hange felt fine. A little tired, maybe, but that was only to be expected after spending half the night every night on the bathroom floor. Tonight, no doubt, would follow the uncomfortably familiar routine: Hange would dry-heave a little longer, until the queasiness abated enough for Levi to convince her to come back to bed, and then she would toss and turn, too warm beneath the bed clothes, until she could fall into a restless sleep. She'd wake up feeling a little groggy, a little bleary, unreasonably hungry, but after a coffee and some breakfast she would feel well again. Perfectly normal.

Like clockwork, Levi appeared in the doorway just as Hange had flopped herself back over the toilet. She felt his palm, cool and soft, press against the back of her neck. Hange gathered her hair back from her face with both hands, braced her elbows on the toilet bowl, letting out a groan of discomfort as her stomach twisted, threatened to revolt again. Levi's thumb rubbed soothingly against her neck.

Sure enough, she brought up nothing more, but she gagged plenty, and found herself gasping for breath by the time she leaned back against Levi, aching and exhausted. His lips pressed into her damp hair.

Levi was as silent as always. His touch was pleasant, his presence welcome. Hange needed the hand he offered to pull her to her feet, needed his reassuring grip at her hips as she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth out. Her quaking knees felt unstable beneath her. 

He lay facing her after they got into bed. Hange was sprawled out atop the covers, shifting restlessly to find the coolest patches on the bed. Levi watched her for a moment, then said, "This isn't normal."

Hange only grumbled.

"You said you'd book an appointment with the doctor."

Hange grumbled again. Levi ticked his tongue and rolled to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Call tomorrow."

"If I didn't know better," Hange said sluggishly, "I'd say you were worried about me."

He scowled and rolled onto his other side, his back to her now.

"No, just sick of waking up at half four every morning to drag you back to bed."

Hange managed a small, wicked snicker, but shuffled across the space between them and pressed an apologetic kiss to the back of his neck.

"Must be dreadful," she said. Her voice sounded raw, hoarse. She buried her nose into his hair and took a long, deep breath. Levi grunted, but reached back and pulled her arm loosely over his hip. He knotted their fingers together loosely.

"Call them, Hange."

Hange gave his fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"I will."

**

Hange prided herself on being a reasonably intelligent person. She had two degrees, was working towards her doctorate, and already had her name on a small handful of peer-reviewed research papers. She spoke multiple languages, read dissertations for fun, kept a (in Levi’s words) disgustingly realistic human skeleton in a box under the bed for study purposes, and had spent the better part of the last 26 years of her life studying human biology and physiology.  

How she had not predicted that she might be pregnant was almost unfathomable. 

She left the doctors office in a daze with an appointment card and several pamphlets in hand. She had been referred hastily to a midwife and the hospital would soon be sending out a date for an ultrasound—“As soon as possible,” the doctor had said, “since you’re not sure how far along you are.” 

The thing is, Hange had been on the same birth control pill for years now. Forgetful as she may be about many, many things (like eating, and bathing, and washing the dishes and taking out the garbage and and and), Hange was religious in taking that damn pill at the same time every single day. She had never missed it, not even once. Without a regular cycle, Hange had no way of predicting when they had conceived, and the doctor was eager to make sure no essential landmarks in her antenatal care were missed, if they could possibly help it.

The thought had never even crossed her mind. It seemed ridiculous now, in hindsight. The sickness was one thing, but now that she thought about it, there were a whole host of small oddities that Hange could easily attribute to pregnancy. Lethargy, and bloating, heartburn, and she had been peeing more than usual—Hange groaned, and scrubbed her hands over her face. She should have suspected, at least. Should have put the pieces together sooner. 

But, stupid and naive as it may be, she hadn’t thought it possible. Why worry about it, when Hange had taken consistent precautions to avoid it? 

She felt queasy the entire bus ride home. 

It wasn’t that she was against the idea of having children. One day, maybe. When she had finished her doctorate, got herself a steady, well-paid job. When she and Levi had moved out of their tiny, cramped apartment into somewhere bigger, somewhere more suited for a family. 

And god. Levi. 

This was something they’d never really talked about. For his part, Levi never seemed all that interested. He was good with Hange’s nieces and nephews, and Erwin’s son adored him, and he hadn’t showed any express dislike for children, but—well, tolerating other peoples little brats and raising your own are two very different things. 

What if Levi didn’t want the baby? What if he did? Hange wasn’t even sure herself what she wanted to do about the whole situation—what if she didn’t want it? What if, after some reflection, Hange decided now wasn’t a good time? Could they even afford a baby right now? Hange’s money was tied up in her education, while Levi was just making ends meet at the office. They got by well enough with just the two of them, but add in a baby? A whole other person, entirely dependant on them for support? Hange could barely feed and bathe herself, some days, never mind responsibly care for a child. 

By the time the bus pulled up near the house, Hange felt more distressed than ever. Levi, at least, was at work until the evening, so she had a few more hours to herself to mull everything over, but the entire situation made her stomach clench and churn unpleasantly with every new thought. 

The prospect of having a child was terrifying. The prospect of not having this child was nauseating. 

Levi had left the flat in pristine condition when he had left for work, but Hange barely had the energy to feel even a little guilty as she shrugged off her coat and kicked off her shoes, leaving both strewn about the floor. She dumped her bag and made her way sluggishly through to the bedroom. 

Levi had made the bed. The sheet was stretched flat over the mattress, the pillows perfectly fluffed and set against the headboard. Hange’s nightshirt, one of Levi’s old, baggy shirts, too stretched and threadbare for him to wear, had been folded neatly and left on her side of the bed, her slippers lined up smartly with the bed frame. For some reason—hormones, she told herself—her eyes watered, and a lump swelled in her throat. She sniffled pitifully as she stripped off her clothes and pulled on the shirt, clambering into the bed and tugging the sheets until the cocooned around her. 

Hange passed the rest of the day tossing and turning in bed. She tried to nap, but her mind was too restless, occupied with thoughts of the baby, with the concept of having to tell Levi when he came home. She could try to lie, say the doctors had done some blood work, that she was waiting on the results of some test or other, but Levi knew her too well. She could never lie to him, and her despondent state would give her away before she had the chance to say anything. 

The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard Levi’s keys in the door. She felt exhausted, head aching with all the thinking, considering, weighing up her options; with running over every possible outcome she could imagine. Keeping the baby, getting rid of the baby, Levi not wanting the baby, Levi leaving over the baby—every scenario she could imagine was worse than the last. There was only one idea that she had hardly dared entertain, in fear of disappointment if things didn’t work out. 

She heard Levi call out for her, but gave no answer. She listened, curled up in a ball on her side, as he shuffled around, no doubt picking up her coat and shoes from where she had abandoned them. And then he made his way towards the bedroom, steps soft on the plush carpet. The bedroom door creaked open. 

“Hange?” 

She made a small, warbled noise under the bedclothes. Levi came to sit on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His hand found the curve of Hange’s hip. 

“How was it?” 

Hange made another noncommittal sound. She wiped her nose and eyes on the sheets, but didn’t dare show her face just yet. She wasn’t ready. She had never prepared for this conversation, never even imagined it before today. It was too soon. Not enough time to rehearse. 

Levi’s hand moved to her back, rubbing lightly up and down her spine, before dropping to the mattress behind her. He leaned over her, and she felt his lips press warm and gentle to the point of her shoulder. A fresh wave of tears poured over the bridge of her nose and down the side of her face. 

She tried to be quiet, but something—the shake of her shoulder, perhaps, or the shudder of air as she tried to take a steadying breath in—gave way to her crying. Levi moved off the bed, but Hange felt his fingers prying lightly at the sheets, pulling them down until he could get a good look at her face. He was kneeling by the bed now, face level with her, and he looked at her with worry pinching deep creases between his brows. 

“Oi, what’d they say?” 

Hange bit the inside of her lip and rubbed her damp cheek on the pillow. If Levi was bothered by her using their bedding as a tissue, he didn’t show it. He simply looked at her, eyes darting over her face, searching. It occurred to Hange then how this must look to him. She had gone to the doctors due to unexplained, violent sickness, and now she is in bed, hours later, still crying about whatever news she had received. 

“I’m fine,” she said. Levi’s tense shoulders relaxed a fraction, but his face remained pinched, frowning and concerned. Hange wanted to tell him quickly, simply, like ripping off a plaster, but the words would not come. She opened her mouth, but her throat constricted painfully. 

Eventually, she said, “my bag. There’s some stuff in my bag. Have a look.” 

Levi gave her a somewhat quizzical look, but stood, dropping a quick kiss to her temple before going to fetch the bag, and dipping his hand in to fish out the contents inside. 

Hange watched with her breath held and her stomach clenched as Levi pulled out the handful of leaflets and turned them over, looking at each one in turn. His eyes widened fractionally as comprehension dawned on him. His lips pressed into a thin line. Leaden weight settled in Hange’s gut. She curled into a tighter ball, pressing the bedsheets over her mouth and nose, waiting for him to gather himself enough to say something. 

After a moment, he spoke. 

“That’s all?” 

Huh? “Huh?!” 

Hange disentangled her arms from the sheets and sat up, staring at him. Levi moved to sit on the edge of the bed again, a scowl back on his face, though there was an intriguing flush high on his cheeks as he whacked her lightly on the top of the head with the leaflets. 

“Stupid four-eyes,” he said, exasperated. “Crying like that. I thought you were dying.”  

“I’m pregnant.” Hange said the word slowly, carefully, in case Levi had somehow misunderstood. He had the audacity to look at her like she was stupid.

“I can see that.” 

“And you have nothing more to say about it? That’s all?” 

Levi shrugged a little at her. Aside from the small patches of colour in his cheeks, Levi seemed wholly unfazed by the revelation. 

“It’s just a baby. We can handle a baby.” 

“That doesn’t terrify you?” 

Levi scrutinised her for a moment, before he said, “are you scared?” 

“Yes? Yes! How are you so calm? We can’t afford a baby—we don’t have the time for a baby? Where will they going to sleep? We don’t have a spare room. Can we get time off work to take care of a baby? How will we pay for childcare when we can’t be around?” 

“Hange,” Levi said, putting a stop to her rambling. He watched her with a pinched stare. “Do you not want it?” 

Hange had spent the majority of the day mulling over this same question. Staring a family was a huge, life-changing commitment, something that required  careful forethought and planning. They had not had that luxury. Hange was pregnant now. She had doubts and fears, more than she could ever express, but the idea of simply having a baby—of having this baby—wasn’t upsetting. In the small, brief moments she had allowed herself to imagine a future where she and Levi were parents, where they weren’t wanting for money or time, where things were well, she felt happy. Giddy. The prospect was almost exciting. 

“It’s not that,” Hange said earnestly. “I do—I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I—I do want it. But I just—we had no time to prepare. We have no savings, we have no space, I’m a mess. How are we supposed to take care of a tiny person? Babies are hard work, Levi.”

“You’re already hard work.” 

Hange laughed weakly, and wiped at her face again. Levi pressed a kiss to her raw cheek. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he said.

Hange leaned into him, sighing quietly. 

“Is this the kind of thing we can just figure out?” 

Levi hummed, shrugging his shoulder. His fingers skimmed up beneath Hange’s shirt, splaying over the small of her back and pulling her closer. 

“Why not? We’ve done a good job bullshitting our way through everything else.”  

Hange laughed lightly and bumped the side of her head against Levi’s.  

“This is different, Levi. This is a person. A tiny little person who is going to need me and you to do everything for them. What if we can’t do it? What if we mess up?” 

“Hange.” Levi pulled back a little and his hands came up to grip either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. “Stop. I know all that. But if you want the brat, and I want the brat, we’ve got no choice but to get on with it.” 

“I know, I know, but—wait, you want the baby?” 

Levi maintained eye contact with her, but it seemed to take a concentrated effort to do so. The flush of his cheeks deepened a little and his lips quirked at the corners. No doubt to compensate for the show of emotion, he pulled his face into his customary frown. 

“It’s fine,” he said. Hange fought the urge to roll her eyes and caught his hands as he lowered them from her face, pulling them into her lap. 

“Are you saying that because it’s already too late, or do you want to keep it?” 

Levi’s face took on a look of constipated strain. He curled his lip as though in distaste, then hooked a hand around the back of Hange’s neck and pulled her face to his abruptly, smacking a kiss to her lips. He let his forehead settle against hers and stroked his thumb over the hinge of her jaw. 

He fought to keep his tone neutral, but Hange could hear the happy tremor in his voice as he said again, “It’s fine.”

For the first time since hearing the news that day, Hange allowed herself to feel excited. To accept the idea that she and Levi were about to start their own bizarre little family. That Levi was still with her felt incredible enough, but to know that he was pleased—it was more than she could ever have hoped for. Hange gave a wet laugh and kissed him again. 

“Are you allergic to looking happy?” Hange asked as they broke apart. Levi clicked his tongue and pulled back to flick her square between the eyebrows. She laughed a little louder and leaned to wipe her runny nose on his shoulder. Levi muttered under his breath, but didn’t push her away.  

“Okay,” Hange said, after a moment. She sat back and pushed her hair back from her face. “Okay. We’re having a baby, then.” 

Levi’s rubbed the smile from his lips with the back of his hand, nodding. “We’re having a baby.” 

Hange sunk down to flop back over the pillows. Levi looked down at her, head tilted, chewing the inside of his lip. Hange reached up to brush his fringe off his forehead, warmth spilling in her chest when he held her hand close and turned to kiss her palm. 

She smiled a little playfully, and freed a leg from the sheets to dig her toes into his ribs. 

“If I’d known you wanted kids I would have been significantly less stressed, you know.” 

Levi quirked a brow at her. 

“I’ve told you that before.” 

“No, you haven’t.” 

“I have. At your sisters wedding.” 

Hange racked her brain, searching for the conversation. She remembered the occasion, and she remembered that she and Levi had somehow ended up babysitting Hange’s family brood. She remembered Levi, wrestling to keep her youngest nephew on his lap while the eldest, still only five or six at the time, was clambering up the back of his chair, sticky hands tugging at Levi’s collar. Hange fought hard to recall more of what was said, but could remember nothing at all of Levi announcing that he had wanted one of his own. 

“You said these brats aren’t so bad,” Hange said slowly. 

Levi nodded at her. Hange waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, only looked at her like there was nothing more he needed to say. 

“That’s it? That’s your idea of telling me you want kids?” 

“The hell else could I have meant?” 

Hange dug her toe at him again but Levi caught her foot this time, pushing it firmly down onto the mattress. Hange reached for him with both arms instead, curling them around the back of his neck and tugging him down quickly. He toppled over her with a quiet oof, and Hange rolled them quickly, straddling his waist and dropping her weight down onto him. 

“That is the kind of thing you say clearly, Levi! These brats aren’t so bad—you’re ridiculous!” 

Levi wrestled with her arms a little longer before giving up and bringing his hands instead to rest low on her hips. He watched her with a curious expression on his face, something open and soft, and then his eyes roved down to her abdomen and his thumbs brushed inwards, beneath the hem of her shirt, stroking over her lower belly. 

This time, he didn’t fight his smile. 

He reached up and pulled her down by the neck, and kissed her soundly. Hange melted against him, welcomed the press of his tongue between her lips, shuddered pleasantly when he nipped at her bottom lip. She went with him willingly as he rolled them both over, nudging a knee between her legs and settling his weight against her. 

She was spreading her legs to make space for him, when he paused suddenly, and pulled back, leaning over the bed and scooping through the discarded back of leaflets. Hange, winded and dishevelled, watched him incredulously as he flicked through the contents of one, then tossed it aside and opened another. 

“What are you doing?” 

Without looking up, Levi replied, “Checking.” 

“Checking what?” 

“I wanna know if we can still—” he waved a hand between them, and went back to searching. 

“We’ve been—” Hange mimicked his gesture, “—up until now anyway.” 

Levi looked up at her, looking mildly horrified. He held up one his open leaflet and said, “You’ve been drinking alcohol, too. You’re not supposed to do that. And look, here—you’re not supposed to overwork. You’ll have to take on less hours at the university. And you’ll eat. Proper damn meals. Every day.” 

Hange flopped back against the pillows, eyes rolling, watching as Levi picked up each new leaflet in turn, pointing out every little adjustment that Hange would have to make. 

“This one says you should get eight to ten hours sleep per night. Every night. And not so much coffee, the caffeine’s bad for the baby.” 

The baby. It sounded surreal. It sounded ridiculous. Levi shifted to sit against the headboard beside her after opening the chunky little What to Expect While Expecting volume Hange had been handed while leaving the doctors. He seemed thoroughly engrossed, and seemingly unaware when one of his hands reached out to pull Hange’s hair free of its ponytail and sink into her hair. She hummed happily as his nails scraped over her scalp. 

Things were still scary, and Hange was still uncertain about how this whole adventure might turn out. But Levi was still with her, and Levi was happy, and that—

—Well, that was good enough. 

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

What I Want - Part 2

AO3 Link

Chapter Title: What I Need

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: Following the awkwardness of the night before, you go to an old friend to try and process your feelings for Crosshair.

Click here for Part 1

Warnings: 18+, a bit more frisky business but not full on so rated 18 just to be safe. Swearing.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Notes: You ask, you get!! Thanks so much for all the support and love for part 1 ❤️. As a thank you, I bring you part 2, I hope you enjoy! If this one takes off a bit as well, I do have an idea for a little bonus chapter around the Bad Batches' reaction. As always, feedback/comments are massively appreciated along with reblogs. Fic is below the cut off, thanks for reading!!

Taglist: @aerynwrites @shannon-lynn-21 @saltywintersoldat @tired-night-owl @wille-zarr

A comm alarm beeped softly, slowly pulling you out your slumber. Giving the device a sleepy glare, you shut it off and huffed back onto your bunk. Wrecker’s snores were echoing off the small ship barracks, you rolled your eyes at his sleeping form across the room as you swung your legs over the side of your top bunk. Below you, Tech slept soundly, he managed to fall asleep with his goggles on which were now sitting wonky on his relaxed face. He also had a datapad clutched to his chest, almost like a teddy bear, which made you chuckle to yourself.

You’d barely slept after getting back from the mission but being a General stopping over on Coruscant meant rest would be a pipe dream. Your alarm was set to get you out of bed and ready for the first of what you were sure would be a hundred and ten briefings today. You were always happy to shoulder the politics for the team, removing that burden from Hunter so they could keep to themselves. But today, you could really do without it.

You looked over at Hunter and Crosshair’s bunks, the former sleeping up top with an arm over his eyes. Probably to block out the few small coloured lights on the ship that shone from critical systems, preventing the room from being truly pitch black. You didn’t envy Hunter’s enhanced senses, they seemed to cause him quite a bit of discomfort when they weren’t on missions. You should probably pick him up an eye mask one of these days.

Below him, Crosshair slept with his back to the open room. One of the few times you ever saw his body relaxed was when he slept. You cringed as you remembered yesterday’s awkwardness with the sniper and mentally cursed at yourself for causing, what was, an easily avoidable situation.

Shaking your head you jumped silently off of your bunk, mindful to not wake any of the batch. You gently removed Tech’s goggles, placing them in their usual spot before moving over to grab some fresh robes and head for the fresher. Today was going to be a real drag.

—————————————————

“Hey! Look what the Lothcat dragged in” someone called after you as you trudged up the steps to the GAR Headquarters. You turned around to see none other than Anakin Skywalker jogging up behind you.

“Nice to see you too Skyguy” he chuckled at the nickname as he threw an arm around your shoulders.

You fell into companionable chatter as you made your way to your first meeting, the dark halls of the military headquarters looking indistinguishable as you attempted to find the correct room. Members of the Coruscant Guard patrolled the halls, nodding politely to you both as you strolled past.

Eventually you found the room where Mace, Plo and Luminara were waiting, along with some clone and human high command. You stood outside the door for a moment, readying yourself to seal your fate of being talked at for a solid eight standard hours.

Eventually you caved, mostly as you were on the verge of being late if you debated standing outside any longer. Begrudgingly, you sat through briefing after briefing. All the voices and different rooms blending into one grey blur as you tried to take in what information you could, but your tired and stressed mind was having none of it.

While it was nice to catch up with some of the other Jedi, you always felt a bit out of place among the perfect members of the council. More so now than ever.

You ended up wandering back to the temple with Anakin where you both retired to his room and you flopped down onto his simple bed with a whine.

“Okay, what’s going on? You’ve been off all day” Anakin was the closest thing you had to a brother, you trained as Padawans together and due to your similar age you became fast friends. You knew about his marriage to Padme and decided that if you could offload your dilemma on anyone, it’d be him.

“I fucked up” you groaned out from behind your hands.

“What’d you do?” Anakin replied in a playful tone.

“I might’ve got a bit hot and heavy with one of the clones in my squad, led him on and then cut it off” Anakin raised an eyebrow at your confession. “And now he’s pissed at me”

“Why?” You weren’t entirely sure which part of that entire thing he was questioning.

“Because I started the whole thing, I wanted it. Then all of a sudden I did that whole guilty Jedi, must follow every word of the order thing, gave him some pathetic look which said really sorry I can’t have attachments mate, hope you understand. He called me out on it before I could even utter the banthashit excuse and then he stomped off and hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“In his defence, seems like he was probably wound a little tight” Anakin replied with a chuckle which you just groaned at.

“He has every right to be pissed. Hells, I would be if the roles were reversed. Whats with this whole self-righteous act us Jedi have going on?”

“Look, it’s hard being a Jedi at the best of times. It takes an inhumane amount of self-control, which is why its not a path for the weak. But being a Jedi while at war… it’s a lot. You’re emotions are running high, you’re forming bonds with soldiers on the battlefield that you shouldn’t be, but none of us can help it because it’s uncharted territory. Maker knows I’d hunt down anyone who hurt Obi-Wan or my Captain. Yes, It’s not the Jedi way, but neither is fighting a grand-scale war.” Anakin’s eyes were alive with emotion as he spoke, be he quickly caught himself and then it was gone.

“My point is, don’t beat yourself up so much. No one is getting kicked out the order or in his case reconditioned if that’s what you’re worried about. Figure out what it is you want, and then just be discreet about it” you looked at Anakin like he’d grown two heads, he just winked at your confused stare.

“Okay let’s keep it simple. Are you attracted to him?” You thought back to the night before and firmly nodded in response.

“Do you like him as a person?” You pondered his question.

“Well, it’s Cross. I wasn’t sure if he even liked me for a long time. He’s closed off, anti-social, but he’s also a good guy, cares about his brothers, has saved my ass multiple times, and he is kinda funny in his own, snide way” you rattled off with fondness in your words.

“Well then I suggest you go and talk to him.” Anakin replied, giving you a knowing look when he spotted the small smile on your lips as you spoke about the sniper.

You took a deep breath, glad to have finally gotten that off your chest and feeling content that you now knew what to do next. “Thanks, Ani”

“Ugh please don’t call me that” he moaned back, apparently only Padme was allowed to get away with that one.

————————————————

Your walk back to the Marauder felt like it dragged on and on. Your brain ran over a thousand scenarios of what to say, how he’d react and you were about to short circuit. There was so much risk, so much possibility, that you did your best to shut your mind off and let yourself handle it in the moment. These things never went as planned anyway, it was best not to guess.

The large door to the ship hissed open, your boots clanking on the metal surface as you cautiously walked into your home. It didn’t take you long to find Crosshair, he was sat in the main hull methodically cleaning his hand blaster. Everyone else must’ve been asleep. He was just in his blacks, the material hugging him in the most wonderful way, it’s like whoever designed those things was trying to trip you up. The contours of his arm muscles flexing as he worked, his strong chest looked practically chiselled at the heart of his lean frame. You had to force yourself to calm down a little bit.

“Uh, hey” you greeted awkwardly. “Mind if I join you?”

You took his silence as a well he’s not saying no. He didn’t spare you a glance as you walked in and took a seat opposite him. As a General in the GAR, you rarely got nervous. War, as a concept, was simple. You knew your purpose, your objective, you had a job to get done and you’d do it. The risks never stopped you, rather they fuelled you. Probably why you’re such a good fit for the bad batch.

But this right now, personal feelings, not knowing where you stand with someone you care about. Because if you were honest, you really did care about Crosshair, the same as you did the rest of the team. You’d only been with the squad just under a year but you’d gladly lay down your life for any of them in a heartbeat. If you could at least get back to where you were before the other night, you’d be over the moon.

You weren’t used to being so nervous, you let your hands fiddle with you dark Jedi robes as you readied yourself to speak again.

“Look, I’m not here to throw some crap about being a Jedi at you, I promise. And I’m sorry for trying it before” he still didn’t look at you, finding his blaster much more interesting. But you could tell he was listening, you had his attention. Might as well keep babbling.

“In terms of an explanation for what happened yesterday, well I guess I panicked.” You sighed as you tried to find the next words “The way you made me feel that night, I… I’ve never felt like that before and everything i’d been taught over the years screamed at me that what I was doing was dangerous and wrong. I now realise that I’m just an idiot. I make my own decisions and I… uh -well, I stick by that one, starting something that is.” Still nothing.

“I know this is probably a long shot. But in the interest of being transparent” you rambled “uh… if you want to go down that road again, I’m up for seeing what happens, can be as casual as we like. I promise I won’t freak out on you again.” You chuckled and thought you almost spotted a slight pull in the corner of Crosshair’s lips “But if you want to go back to how we were before, I’d also really like that.” You watched him for a while as he gave no acknowledgement of your words, his cleaning finished as he now gave the weapon a once over in his hands. Having said everything you needed, you got up from your seat, looking away from him.

“Well, if I can do anything else, let me know” you turned on your heel to leave, feeling slightly defeated but glad you’d at least made the first step.

“I could think of a few things” he finally spoke as he leaned back into his seat and continued to stare at his blaster, still not meeting your gaze.

Well that caught your attention, you turned back around to face him as he carried on ignoring you. While his tone was unbothered as he spoke, you knew him just enough to know his words held a meaning. He was playing with you, back to his usual teasing and you could’ve laughed at the relief that washed over you. This you could work with. A cheeky idea popped into your head and you’d decided to run with it.

“Oh really?” Throwing caution to the wind, you strode over to the sniper slowly. His gaze finally meeting yours after all this time, watching you as you got closer and closer. Practically drawing you in with his amber eyes. You pushed him back by his chest, creating enough room so you could straddle his lap. “Care to elaborate?”

He huffed out a short laugh at your words, his face overall unbothered but his eyes, they were burning into you. “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you’ll figure it out”.

You hummed in response, deciding to kick things up a notch you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing your faces just breaths apart. “Something like this?” You asked, pausing for another second before bringing your lips to his in a surprisingly soft and gentle kiss. You felt his hands come up to rest on your back, pulling you closer as you continued your slow dance. This was so different from the other night, where before there was desperation and lust, now there was something more… tender, passionate. You were quite glad you weren’t standing as the way he moved against you would’ve definitely made your knees weak.

Dragging yourself away from his lips, you searched his face. His mouth pulled into a barely there smirk “That’s a start.”

“Who said I was finished?” And just like that, the last few strands of tension between you both snapped and you relaxed in his arms. You fisted your hands into the front of his blacks and pulled him back to you, his tongue slipped between your lips, curious and demanding. He was everywhere again, filling your nose with the scent of the standard cheap GAR soap but mixed with something earthy, something so distinctly Crosshair and you couldn’t get enough.

You could tell why the Jedi order frowned upon such activities, kissing Crosshair was intoxicating. You couldn’t think of anything else other than the handsome clone in front of you and just how much you wanted him in that moment.

His hands wandered lower and lower down you back until they rested comfortably on your backside, pulling you further up his lap. Feeling mischievous, you started trailing kisses along his jaw. Setting a teasing, languid pace as you mapped out the spots that made him squirm. Crosshair was never a man of many words, so you made it your mission to see just how vocal you could make him.

As your lips met his pulse point, he gave a loud exhale and you smirked in victory against his skin as you continued the onslaught on his senses. You definitely seemed to be doing something right as his hands found themselves in your hair, clutching slightly and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you. Even while trying to gain the upper hand in the situation, he always had some control over you. It was maddening in the best way, setting your veins alight with desire.

Determined to get another victory you traced your tongue against the base of the side of his neck and trailed it all the way up to the bottom of his ear, which you teasingly took into your mouth, teeth grazing the soft skin. A strangled moan escaped the clone and that was the moment where you knew you were hopelessly and utterly gone. Your mind filled with nothing other than wanting to be closer to Crosshair.

“Not very Jedi of you” he commented, slightly breathless when you finally stopped teasing him and came back up to meet his eyes. Looking down at where your bodies were pressed against one another, you chuckled.

“What exactly about this situation led you to believe I was ever a model Jedi?” You smirked, though it was only visible for a second before his mouth was back on yours, devouring you as his hands greedily roamed your body.

You continued making out like teenagers for most of the evening, taking the time to explore each other, enjoying the closeness. Contentment settled over your body, almost as if this was were you were meant to be. If Crosshair’s arms were where you belonged, well, you could think of worse places to be.

Back to Part 1

Back to Masterlist

[knchins]

Not Your Friend - Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukki invites you over for Thanksgiving dinner after a day at the Labor Thanksgiving festival. But things start to fall apart when he introduces you to his family as his friend instead of his girlfriend.

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k (not 206 omfg ally get it TOGETHER)

Server Collab: @haikyuucreations - Home Sweet Home

Warnings: Angst (w/ a happy ending), Very brief mention of sex, stuffed animal abuse (jkjk)

Notes: Anon I hope you don’t mind a happy ending because I totally intended to leaving it open ended but then my heart hurt too much and I had to make them happy in the end. Anyway first collab piece for hqc! Please enjoy <3

 Even though you had been dating Tsukishima Kei for a little over six months now, you were still surprised when he invited you to a Thanksgiving Day dinner celebration with his family and closest friend Yamaguchi Tadashi. He had mentioned the festival that would take place earlier in the day and that after the two of you explored a bit, you’d go back to his home and have dinner with his mother, older brother, and best friend.

 It was a little odd because Tsukishima had disagreed on group dates or meeting your own family multiple times. He always found excuses to not do it. He would only say that he liked to keep his love life private, and asked that you would respect that. And so far you had. You didn’t talk about what went on between the two of you with anyone outside of your relationship, even your friends. You would be vague about your dates and if you had a fight then you’d pretend like nothing was going on. He wanted privacy and you wanted to give that to him.

 Despite that, you were really excited to finally meet his family. He had told you a lot about them and you had always wanted to meet them. You didn’t think he would have agreed if you had simply asked, so you never voiced your wishes to him. Luckily it seemed that time made him comfortable enough in your relationship to want to introduce you to the other people in his life finally.

 That morning you put on one of your best outfits, something that was cute but suitable for meeting your boyfriend’s family. Once you were finished getting ready, you went outside to meet Tsukki at his car. He would never go up to the door, no matter how many times you told him it was okay. He smiled softly at you, approving of your attire. “You look cute.” He said before driving you to the festival.

 The day was spent playing games and enjoying each other’s company. A few people recognized him from seeing his games with the Sendai Frogs and told them how they were big fans of him and the team. You knew he didn’t really care for the attention, always making an excuse to pull him away from the intruding person so he could relax by your side again. Tsukishima was always appreciative of how well you seemed to be able to read him. Despite his usual cold demeanor, people just seemed so eager to aggravate him. It was incredibly annoying.

 Luckily, the fans bold enough to interrupt your time together were few and far between today. Tsukki won you a stuffed brontosaurus, making sure you tell you how inaccurate the plush was as you hugged it close to snuggle with it happily, listening to him list why it was improbable for a dinosaur to be neon pink with orange spots. Of course he added how the head wasn’t shaped quite right and the proportions were a tad off. It was enough to make you giggle as he took you back to his car to take you to his family home.

 Anxiety fluttered in your chest as you watched the scenery pass you by in the window. What if they didn’t like you? You wondered to yourself. What if they thought you weren't good enough for him? A million negative scenarios and interactions raced through your mind as you thought of every conceivable way that you could screw this up. If this didn’t go well, then he’d probably never let you see them again. The thought of that hurt more than anything.

 After failed scenario number five hundred and thirty seven, Tsukki pulled up to his family home and parked out front. He opened the door for you and you stepped out, choosing to leave your new beloved (though inaccurate) dino behind. You didn’t want them to think you were childish because you loved stuffed animals.

 As he shut the car door behind you, Yamaguchi arrived with a wide smile. He greeted you enthusiastically, hugging you before giving Tsukishima a look that you couldn’t quite decipher.The three of you headed inside and deposited your shoes at the door as Kei’s mother came to greet you.

 “This is my friend,” Tsukki began before telling her your name. You couldn’t stop your eyes from widening in shock, looking at him with hurt as you tried to reel in the fresh set of tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. Friend? That’s all you were to him? Since when?

 You managed to compose yourself enough to bow to her as she told you it was nice to finally meet you. She then told Yamaguchi that she missed seeing him every weekend like she did when they were in high school together. The two began a friendly conversation as they retreated into the next room.

 Still frozen in place, you tried to grasp hold on your shattering heart. After everything, the ups and downs, the hiding you away, the confessions of love, the sex, he still somehow thinks of you as only…a friend? There was a lump in your throat, making it painful to swallow. Tsukishima didn’t seem to be pressed by the state you were in, he simply walked further into the house to catch up with his mother and friend.

 You took a deep breath to try and regain control of yourself. You attempted to numb the pain in your heart, simply thinking that if he just wanted to be friends then you’d simply treat him as a friend and nothing more. Two could play this game, not matter how much it hurt.

 Tsukki introduced you to his older brother and his significant other. You and Yamaguchi chatted with him while Tsukishima went to help his mother with something in the kitchen. You tried to keep yourself in the moment and to not think too much about the greeting. Though, he repeated himself again when introducing you to Akiteru. Being friendzoned on what you thought was a date was possibly one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do. You wish you could go back in time and decline his invitation to come over in the first place.

 Yamaguchi could read you like an open book. Not that you were incredibly hard to read in the first place, but it was easy to see that something was bothering you. Of course he knew exactly what was on your mind. He took you to the side after you finished chatting with Akiteru. “I’m sorry, I probably should have warned you I had a feeling this would happen.” He said to you in a quiet voice so that no one else could hear him.

 “I just want to go home.” You confessed. Despite how delicious the food smelled, you had no desire to even be near Tsukishima after what he had just done to you. The pain was simply too fresh, the wound too new. “I think I’m going to be sick…”

 He rubbed your back in an attempt to comfort you. “I think this is just his way of testing you.” Yamaguchi said, hoping that it would make you feel better. Alas it only made you feel worse. Why the hell did you need to be tested? Had you not gone through enough together in the past six months? Anger was starting to overwhelm your hurt and Tadashi attempted to backpedal. “I could be wrong though. Sometimes I don’t know what goes on in his head.”

 You dabbed at your eyes with the end of her shirt sleeve to try and keep the tears from falling. “Can you sit between us?” You asked, “I don’t want to be next to him right now.” He nodded, understanding how you were feeling. He wished he could pull Kei aside and ask him himself what was going through that head of his. Why was he doing this to the girl that he said he loved? Sometimes he could be such an enigma.

 Akiteru informed them that dinner was ready and the table was set. Tsukishima as already seated, Yamaguchi stayed true to his word and sat down next to him while you sat next to Yamaguchi. You could feel Kei’s eyes on you, wondering just what you were doing, but you ignored him totally. You told his mother that everything looked and smelled wonderful and she thanked you happily.

 The six of you began to eat, and everything tasted as good as it looked. It was almost worth the heartache that Tsukishima was putting you through, though you had already decided if he was so ashamed of you then you didn’t need to be in a relationship any more. You were hurt, angry, and at this point didn’t know what else to do. If he wanted to break up with you, then he could have found an easier way.

 The dinner was tense to say the least. You did your best to ignore Tsukishima, even though his family kept asking you questions about one another. How you met, did you hang out often, and many other questions that made it obvious that they were trying to see if the two of you were just friends or not. You kept your answers polite, but made it clear that you weren’t in an intimate relationship with Kei, at least not anymore.

 The slipup caused everyone to stare at you with wide eyes, even Kei himself. You not being together anymore was certainly news to him, though he played it off like it was no big deal. He wondered if this was because he didn’t claim you as his significant other right away or if maybe you’d been wanting to break up for some time now. His own mind was clouded with doubts and anxieties as he became even quieter at the table. It was obvious that there was something going on between you two, it was just unclear what exactly that was.

 Once everyone had finished eating, you helped Tsukki’s mother clear up the dishes and put extra food away. “You know, my son has a very interesting way of handling information he doesn’t want his family to know.” She said as she passed you a dish to dry off. “He has always been a very private person, even as a small child. I never quite understood where he got it from.”

 You weren’t sure what her point was, drying off another dish with the towel in your hand. “He never tells us when he has a girlfriend because he’s afraid we’ll bother them.” She said admittedly, “He thinks we’ll pry too much. I think he keeps it a secret more due to his own insecurities than anything else.”

 “Sometimes being kept a secret doesn’t feel very good.” You replied, not knowing what else to say to her. “Being kept in the dark isn’t that great either.”

 “Well, no.” She said back as she finished the last plate and handed it to you. “But he doesn’t have a whole lot of practice with that sort of thing either. I don’t think he reads women very well.”

 You nodded, wanting to believe that his denial of their relationship was simply due to him being an insecure idiot, but it was a little hard to believe. It still felt more like he was ashamed of you. “He’s never actually brought anyone over besides Tadashi before.” His mother said, “I think this was a big step for him.” She left to go tackle another chore as you stayed in the kitchen, nibbling on your lower lip. Did you possibly jump the gun?

 Tsukishima walked into the kitchen and you realized the two of you were alone. He had an apathetic look on his face. “So we’re not together anymore?” He asked, as if the conversation at dinner was unclear.

 Your eyes narrowed and you threw the dishrag at him. “I don’t know, Kei, you tell me.” You hissed before crossing your arms over your chest. “Can you please just take me home?”

 He was frowning, which although wasn’t totally unusual, it was more pronounced than normal. He nodded his head, letting out a soft disappointed sigh before letting everyone know he was going to take you back to your apartment.

 You walked with him to his car, allowing him to open the door for you. You got in, putting the stuffed dinosaur in the backseat. Honestly you didn’t even want to look at it anymore, you had already decided that you’d pretend to forget it there.

 Tsukki got into the driver’s side, buckling his seat belt and starting the car. Already he knew things were worse than he thought. For as long as he’d known you, he’d never seen you abandoned a stuffed toy. You’d always keep it in your lap or in your arms, somewhere close because you wanted it to feel loved (he really didn’t understand this but chose to let it go). He swallowed hard, trying to figure out a way to fix things before they were beyond repair.

 The drive was extremely tense. He caught you sniffling back tears a few times, the need to console you growing more and more despite the fact that now his heart was breaking too. “Listen,” He said, addressing you by your name, “I was going to tell them, but I wanted them to get to know you first without any pressure.” He was inwardly hoping that the truth was enough to heal your hurt, though he wasn’t entirely sure if it was or not. “I knew they’d pry and I thought it would be easier on you if I just said you were a friend.”

 “Kei we’ve been dating six months now and they didn’t even know you were seeing someone?” You asked, though his explanation did help somewhat, it was still unacceptable that you had been kept such a secret. “Why are you so ashamed of me?”

 “I’m not ashamed of you.” He said back, his voice raising a hair at the accusation. “I never said that I was. I just don’t like them butting into my private life, that’s it. It had nothing to do with how I feel about you.”

 You shied away at his loud volume, sinking into the seat like a child that had just been chastised. “That’s what it feels like…” You mumbled back meekly. “That you don’t care enough to tell them about me.”

 He glanced at you before looking back at the road. “How many times have I told you that you mean more to me than anything in the entire world?” He asked, sounding tired. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.” He always hated saying those words, but sometimes the moment did call for it. Moments such as this. “I just didn’t want my family to pester me about you nonstop. They get carried away and it's overwhelming.”

 You were quiet, unsure what to say. “Why didn’t you just tell me that beforehand so I wouldn’t have gotten hurt?”

 His cheeks turned a light shade of pink, “I was going to tell them right away but I panicked at the last moment. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, really.”

 You blinked slowly, reaching into the backseat for the dino and hold. The action made Tsukishima let out a sigh of relief. It was at least a sign that he hadn’t ruined everything completely. “So are we still broken up?”

 “No,” You muttered back to him awkwardly. “I’m sorry I made you leave early.”

 He shrugged, “I’d rather just be with you anyway. Akiteru can be such a pain.”

 A small smile broke on your face as you rode the rest of the way in a happy silence.

Mobile Masterlist || Request Rules || Collab Masterlist

Tag List: @dabi-hates-fish​, @hawkward​, @writeiolite​ (I think you wanted to be tagged Io, I don’t exactly remember ad;lfkja;dlfja;sdlfj)

[elysianslove]

what he doesn’t know; oikawa tōru

requested by anon; ❝ The anon that requested the Oikawa scandal ✨bless✨ them. Can I request a whole scenario with that plot?? But like they’re at a game and the reader spots Oikawa and he texts her while she’s next to Ushijima and she makes an excuse to leave and they meet somewhere and ALMOST get caught. ❞

synopsis; your heart belongs to one man, but your body another. based off of this thirst i received. 

pairings; oikawa tōru x reader, ushijima wakatoshi x reader

genre; smut, angst (at the end)

warnings; cheating, public sex, choking, degradation, humiliation, creampie,  barebacking, rough sex

note; i, in no way, condone cheating. i find it really, really disgusting, and i would never wish it upon anyone. this is purely fictional. if it bothers or triggers you, please don’t read! both oikawa and ushijima are above eighteen here. 

━━   as not only shiratorizawa’s boys volleyball club’s manager, but also as the captain’s girlfriend, it’s not an odd occurrence to see you walk into the large gymnasium by his side, your small hand in his large one. you’re a constant by his side, a calming, steadying presence, and as you pass by the other teams, you offer his hand a reassuring squeeze, one he doesn’t necessarily need, but one he accepts nonetheless. 

as he leads you and his team throughout the hall, towards the stands where they’ll stay until they’re called upon to warm up, the different teams from the various schools in miyagi seem to shrink and shrivel in fear by the intimidation that drifts off of them in waves. even you can’t deny it. all your boys are tall, strong and capable, and with endless victories on their backs and around their necks an attestation to it. 

all but one team.

it’s not surprising seijoh’s boys face them head on, what with the fact that the multiple defeats they’ve faced have only hardened, thickened, their skin, sharpened their determination and strengthened their will to fight. it’s admiral, really, even to you. but what’s especially impressive is their captain’s gaze on you, unfaltering and unwavering as you pass him by. and when you look up momentarily, eyes meeting his, all he does is relax, arms crossing defiantly. heart beating unsteadily in your chest, you look away. 

minutes later you find yourself seated by your boyfriend, you lift your legs up to cross them, placing your bag on your lap to avoid flashing anyone with your skirt as you hold your phone close to you, aimlessly scrolling through it. to your right is ushijima, biting into an apple, only half listening as tendō rambles to him and semi. glancing at semi’s face, you’re not entirely sure you want to listen in on the conversation, and you’re about to steal away your boyfriend’s attention, your mouth opening, hand coming to rest on his arm, until you feel your phone vibrate. 

meet me behind the gymnasium, now

your mouth hangs open as you stare at your phone, at the text message, at the sender. 

“did you want to say something, love?” ushijima asks, eyes curious. 

uncertainly, you shake your head, pushing your phone into the pocket of the jacket you wear. “n-no,” you stutter, offering him a lopsided smile. “i just have a little bit of a headache, so is it okay if i head to the nurse’s office?” 

he softens, smiling lightly. “of course,” he replies. “i’ll come get you when you’re needed, but please rest well.” 

rising to your feet, you place your hand on the back of his neck, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. “just text, it’s okay,” you tell him, before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. at the sight of his endearing smile at your actions, your heart twists, stomach upset, but you push it down, skipping over tendō’s outstretched legs, and heading to the alleyway you’d spotted on your way here. 

when you arrive, he’s already there. 

oikawa tōru, captain of the boys volleyball team of aoba johsai, leans suavely against the brick wall, shadowed by the tall building. his hands rest in his trainers’ pockets, and he barely flinches when he hears your feet hit against the gravel beneath, approaching him. 

“took you long enough,” he greets you, and you bite back an eye roll. “what excuse did you think up this time?” 

god, he infuriates you. everything about him pisses you off so much. from the way he stands, the way he carries himself to the way he talks, the way he speaks to you, his attitude, his voice, his stupidly soft hair and irritatingly charming smile and his annoyingly dazzling eyes. and most importantly, worst of it all, you hate how he makes you feel, you hate how despite it all, you still want him, still crave his hands on your body, his fingers pulling at your hair, his lips marking your neck, his nails digging into your hips as he thrusts into you. 

you want to punch him in his stupid fucking face. but you can’t, exactly. so you do the next best thing. 

stomping over to him, you quickly grab at his face, effectively shutting him up as you press your lips against his, harshly. his words are muffled against your mouth, and he’s only taken aback for a second before he’s taking the lead. his hands come up to grip at your wrists, roughly snapping them away from his face, before one large palm finds its way to your throat, wrapping it around and pushing you, forcing you to stumble towards the wall he’d just been leaning against, pressing you against it. 

as always, the build up is quick, sinfully so. he kisses you open mouthed, unabashed, shamelessly, his tongue licking against yours. it can’t look worse than it sounds. but even though it’s so lewd, it’s also so fucking hot, and already, your hips are pushing towards his, searching for any sort of friction. 

“fuck,” he curses, pulling back, his hand tightening around your throat to keep your lips parted. “fuck you’re so needy.” 

you pant helplessly, hands fisting at his shirt, desperately pulling him to you. “please say you’ll fuck me,” you gasp out, effectively having him press his hips against yours. 

he giggles, leaning forward, hovering his lips over yours, his fingers digging into the sides of your neck as his eyes scan you, your face, your body. “yeah,” he finally decides. “i’m gonna fuck you stupid.” 

his free hand travels to your waist, down to your hips, to your thigh, which he urges you to lift up. mindlessly, you do, lifting up a leg and wrapping it around his waist as his hand strokes along your skin, dipping past the hem of your skirt, trailing and ghosting upwards, up, up, up until his fingers brush along your clothed slit, teasingly stroking the drenched piece of cloth. 

“my god,” he taunts. “you’re this wet already?” he presses his fingers harder, stroking to your entrance, then back up to your clit, and your chest heaves, your face twisting away from him. he doesn’t let your eyes leave his for long, following your gaze as it tries to turn away from him. “you’re this wet for another man?” his hand loosens on your throat, allowing your head to fall forward to rest on his shoulder as finally, finally, he pushes your panties aside, fingers pressing against your entrance. you choke on your breath, leaning more into him as he sinks two of his fingers deeper, curling them as he presses them inside. “you’re this responsive to someone that isn’t your boyfriend?”

“tōru,” you gasp out, hands gripping at arms as he fucks you faster with his fingers, as you try to rock your hips in time with his movements, as his thumb finds your clit and rubs at it in tight, harsh circles. “tōru, tōru, tōru.”

“crying out my name instead of his,” he tuts, allowing you to press yourself more against him, his hand falling entirely from your throat and rising to the back of your head, fisting your hair and lifting you up. your eyes are half-lidded, your lips trembling, swollen from the kisses he’s given you, your moans so sweet, sweeter now that he can see you, see what he’s doing to you. “you know what this makes you? being like this, for me? moaning my name, begging for me? hm?” 

fuck, you’re so close. so, so close. his fingers, long, curled inside of you, pressing against all the spots you need him to, sloppily fucking you, and his words, the humiliation of it, and his voice, so near you, taunting you like this, and the way he grins at you, so smugly, so confidently. it’s all too much. 

“a fucking slut,” he finally says, and the coil within you snaps, spreading a fire along all your nerves. “yeah that’s it; cum for me.” the leg that’s wrapped around his waist falters, but you tense, pressing it tighter around him as your body shakes and shudders, as he fucks you through your orgasm, as you choke and cry and plead. 

when you settle down, you find your hands are already pawing at his shorts, tugging at the waistband. there’s a tent formed, his dick no doubt hard. pressing lower, you palm him through his shorts, shakily muttering, “please, fuck me.” 

he laughs lowly, his sticky hand coming around to grip at your hip, and obediently, you straighten up, arms wrapping around his neck. he tugs at his shorts, his boxers as well, with his free hand, pulling them down and freeing his cock, allowing it stand stiff against his stomach, leaking from the angry, red tip. the simple sight of it makes your mouth water, and one hand unclasps from behind his neck, reaching down for his cock, but all he does is swat your hand away. 

“i can do that myself,” he sneers, gripping his cock tightly, stroking it firmly from the base to the tip, twisting his wrist to collect the precum and smear it along himself. “think i know how to fuck you by now.” 

you whine, fingers tangling in his hair as you lean up on your toes, trying to press your hips closer to him. his hand momentarily leaves his cock, which bobs up as he frees it from friction, before his fingers find your panties again. he grabs at the crotch area, and with one, harsh pull, a sharp tag, you hear the snap and stretch of the cloth as he tears through it. “perfect,” he praises, fingers pressing against your slit for good measure, before he finally grabs his cock, and pushes himself closer to you. 

“wanna be full, please,” you whisper, and he hums, tapping the head of his cock against your clit, watching in amusement as you shiver. “we don’t have all da—“

he’s sinking inside of you slowly before you can think, before you can breathe, his cock stretching you. oikawa’s different to your boyfriend in so many ways, at least when it comes to fucking you. where ushijima is fast and diligent paces, oikawa is smooth, harshly slow, and you manage to feel him everywhere, all at once. and although your boyfriend’s cock is larger, whenever oikawa bottoms out, you feel him in your throat, because he makes you see stars in ways ushijima could never. of course, there’s guilt residing inside of you. how could you not feel that way? but it’s so easy to forget, with the way oikawa’s pushing into you now, with the way your cunt clamps down on him so tightly that it has him moaning, has him gasping, so, so prettily, in a way ushijima never does. 

oikawa looks just as beautiful fucking you as he feels.

the hand on your hip smooths down your thigh to the back of your knee, steadying your leg against him as he manages a pace, one that leaves you trembling, crying out, “more, more, more.” he fucks you till you’re breathless, till you see, hear, and feel nothing but him. he fucks you till your legs ache and your back is sore and your mind is numb. he fucks you till you can cry out nothing but his name. he fucks you so mean, hips snapping against yours so tauntingly, mouth so filthy as he calls you his pretty little whore. his, his, his. you’re all his. 

“gonna cum for me?” he wonders, voice strained and you nod, urgently, because yes, yes, for him. beneath your shirt, your tits bounce, nipples grazing against your bra. your skirt is bunched up and you can feel your panties only tight around your waist, the threads dangling helplessly. “fuck, look at this messy cunt. drooling all for me.” he’s right, he’s right. it’s all for him. the way your cunt is dripping and drenching his balls and your thighs and god, fuck, please don’t let it get all over your skirt. 

his fingers find your wet, sensitive clit quickly and he rubs uneven circles, so rough and sloppy as he fucks into you. as your body tenses with the oncoming orgasm, your cunt clenches around him, tightening and gripping his cock tighter. “fuck, keep— keep doing that,” he urges, and you do, you try, because of how gorgeous his broken voice had sounded. your cunt squeezes around him as he brings you closer and closer, and just as you tip over, his hand tightens like a vice into the flesh right by your thigh, so harsh that you’re sure it’s gonna bruise, and with a shout, he cums. 

fuck, he’s cumming inside. it feels so good. 

“tōru,” you sob. “tōru, fuck, so full.”

“yeah,” he sighs, the muscles in his thighs spasming slightly as he fills you up, as he rides out his high, using your pussy. “yeah, so full of my cum.” 

the phone in the pocket of your jacket is vibrating, but you can barely feel it through the aftershocks of your orgasm, still processing that you can feel as his cum trickles out of you when he pulls out, and the way your cunt still tightens around the tip of his cock when he pushes it inside to ensure you’re stuffed well even with how sensitive you are.  

as he stuffs his now soft cock back in shorts with one hand, he lifts up the leg around his waist, spreading you open, eyes focused on your cunt. “make sure to fuck him tonight, yeah?” he jokes, laughing, and you roll your eyes, desire for him now seeping away, irritation returning.

just as he lowers your leg to help you stand on two feet, your phone buzzes again and you reach for it, hand traveling up to smooth out your hair as oikawa himself fixes himself up. 

how are you feeling? i hope that you’re resting 

we have warm ups in thirty minutes by the way 

darling do you need me to come get you? 

or you can sit this one out if you’re still not feeling well

with a sigh, you slump against the wall. 

“is it him?” 

looking up, you find oikawa observing you with a curious gaze, arms crossed. you never understand why he’ll always ask questions he knows the answer to, questions he doesn’t want answers to. you only give him a nod, before your fingers are typing out a response. 

i’ll be there in 10 mins, love

“why won’t you leave him?” 

you scoff. “i love him oikawa,” you reason as you lock your phone, shoving it back in your pocket. and you do. you love your boyfriend, more than anyone could imagine. 

oikawa sighs, uncrossing his arms and pressing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “no you don’t.” 

with a frown, you reply, “who are you to decide that?” 

he’s suddenly much closer. 

he fixes you with a gaze, responding, “if you really loved him, you wouldn’t be here right now. with me.” 

his eyes are honest as they meet yours, and you suddenly feel the need to shrink away, to cower away from his gaze, to hide from it. it pains you every time you agree to meet him, every lie you say, every excuse you make, and yet you still do. you still lie, you still pretend. you continue to give your body to another man, willingly, and then spend the night in the arms of another, in the arms of your lover. and it’s why you know, deep down, that oikawa is right. you wouldn’t be looking for something in oikawa if you didn’t think ushijima wasn’t complete. not for you, at least. you desperately want to love him. he’s so kind, so gentle, so passionate, so strong, so caring, so charming, and so in love with you. 

“please,” you say, one hand reaching to settle, to rest, against his chest. “please give me time.” 

he sighs. “i’m not going to wait around forever.” 

it’s like a strike against your cheek, a punch to your gut, an arrow through your heart. you realize, in that moment, that you’re a victor in no scenario, in no situation. all you’ve done is dug yourself a hole that you can’t clamber out of. so with a pale face, you numbly nod, gaze looking no longer at him, but through him, and then you turn away. 

maybe— maybe you just weren’t made for this. 

end note; was gonna make this pure filth but i thought, why not add a little bit of,, spice <3 i hope that everyone enjoyed this! and please, don’t cheat on your partners. it’s so cruel. spare them the hurt and the pain and their precious time. 

[thetargaryenbride]

Levi x Reader:: Marks

Summary:: Sometimes you hated those scars so much, letting insecurities wash over you and allow self-hate to take place. But Levi was always there to remind you how beautiful you were. 

Word Count: 1458

Warnings: Some nudity

Feedback is deeply appreciated~!

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

You let out a hiss as you slowly unbuckled the belts of your gear one by one, letting them drop heavily on the ground before quickly discarding your uniform and undergarments, throwing them in the laundry basket, leaving you bare. Blood flow finally began running smoothly and normally now that there was nothing to painfully tighten and restrict your thighs. You undid the taut bun, setting your hair free and relieving your scalp with a short massage as you proceeded to enter the bathroom. You let out a sigh of content the moment the hot water washed over your body, easing your sore and tense muscles.

The past forty eight hours had been nightmarish. You had returned from an expedition gone wrong. Two of your squadmates had been injured and as a good captain you had stayed by their side for hours as the doctors and nurses treated them. After that you hadn’t even had the time to wash and change as a mountain of paperwork had been placed on your desk. If that hadn’t been enough, the families of your injured subordinates wanted to speak to you so you had to spend more time reassuring them that everything was all right before returning to your tedious tasks. You had been so busy and just like that, two whole days had passed. The same could be said about the other higher-ups. Levi, Hange, Erwin, Mike and the other squad leaders and section commanders were up to the neck buried with work and in such moments you asked yourself whether it was worth to become a captain.

There was so much responsibility.

You wrapped a towel around your body as you finally exited the bathroom, now feeling more refreshed and clean. But when you stepped into your bedroom and passed by the mirror, you froze, slowly turning to look at yourself.

Your skin has always been easy to bruise and you hated that. Now, staring at your thighs – at the ugly markings from the belts marring your skin – you felt sick. And suddenly, you got reminded of every scar your body held. There was one on your calf when a titan had bitten down as you were trying to save a comrade from its jaws. At this point you probably had multiple scars on your back from the amount of times you had fallen, gotten hit or thrown left and right or smashed while fighting those monstrous creatures.

There was one on your abdomen too. It brought shivers down your spine every time you remembered how you obtained it. It happened on the day Wall Maria fell. The Scouts had returned from an expedition. Instead of returning to the base, you had asked Commander Shadis to visit your family – inform them that you were alive and ease their worry.

Your house was near the gates.

You had spent amazing few hours with your family – eating and laughing and chatting together. And then there had been an explosion and only a second later something heavy had rammed against your house. The sound of breaking and cracking of bricks and wood and falling debris had been deafening. You had almost been buried alive under the debris, a piece of wood stabbing you. You had thought that you were going to die. But someone unexpected had come to save you.

Levi.

That had set the beginning of your relationship. When you had asked him why he had gone looking for you despite all the odds, he had just shrugged, saying it was because you were the only person he was able to tolerate. It was valid, considering you were the first and only person to offer him and his friends help and friendship after they joined and you had made sure to shower them with lots of care and kindness.

You didn’t know whether it were insecurities or something else but right now you felt horrible. You hated those scars. You hated your body. You tiredly sat on the bed as you thought about all those other…normal girls who had clean, spotless, soft skin. Tears gathered in your eyes and before you knew it, you were sniffing, trying to suppress your sobs as you cupped your hands over your mouth.

You didn’t even hear when the door to your private quarters opened.

Levi’s eyes widened as they fell on your shaking shoulders. Your back was facing him as he stood silently by the door frozen, unable to move, his mind immediately listing and searching for reasons as to why you were crying.

His legs quickly carried him to your form and he crouched down in front of you, placing a hand on your knee. You flinched as you lowered your hands and looked at him through blurry vision before wiping away the offending liquid. He waited a bit, giving you time to compose yourself. When you seemed ready to talk, he spoke.

“What’s wrong?” it was a simple question but his tone was soft and soothing that you felt like caving in and telling him. But you were also ashamed. You didn’t want to appear weak or stupid in front of him. You didn’t want to bother or worry him unnecessarily. After all, one of the reasons as to why he allowed himself to love you, allowed himself to accept you and enter a relationship during those horrid times, was because he knew you could take care of yourself. He knew that you could handle anything thrown your way and survive and come back to him even stronger.

But sometimes you couldn’t help but allow a few moments of weakness. Was it selfish of you?

“It’s…nothing. I’m just being silly, that’s all,” you breathed out and he frowned, his hand squeezing your knee a bit scoldingly.

“You’re crying your eyes out for nothing then? You know you can tell me. But if you don’t want to, it’s ok,” he said as his other hand moved to grasp one of yours in reassurance, making you let out a sigh and close your eyes.

“I hate my body. I hate how…many marks it has,” you sniffed and prepared for him to say that you were behaving like a child or to berate you and scold you for being so weak, eyes squeezing more and more shut when you imagined every scenario.

But he didn’t do anything like that. Instead, what he did surprised you.

He gently unwrapped the towel and let it fall and pool around you, leaving you bare and exposed. You had half a mind to cover yourself with your hands but you were curious as to what he was about to do.

His face got closer and closer until he placed his lips onto your thigh, right over the still red markings from the uniform belts.

“Is it this one?” he asked quietly as he gently kissed it before moving to the one on your other thigh. “Or this?” he repeated the action before lifting his head, hands softly brushing against your legs and climbing upwards, passing by your hips, caressing your sides and resting there as he nuzzled against your abdomen.

“Or maybe this one?” he whispered as he peppered the jagged, long scar with fluttering kisses while his hands raised more and roamed over your back, fingers tracing each scar with such care and love that the tears started falling again. But this time it wasn’t out of sorrow or self-hate. It was because he was worshipping your body. He was worshipping you.

And it made you fall in love with him all over again.

“You don’t need to be ashamed of these scars and marks,” he muttered against your skin and your hand went to thread his raven locks. “They are a proof that you went through hell and you were strong enough to push through and survive. To keep living. Because if there’s one thing that’s worth it in this cruel world, is staying by your loved ones’ side and building beautiful memories together. That makes all the pain and hate fade,” he said before he looked up, his eyes meeting yours as one hand went to wipe off your tears, thumb brushing your cheekbone tenderly.

You gave him a watery smile as you leaned and captured his lips in a delicate kiss which quickly turned into a searing one as you tried to pour all your passion, gratitude and love through it. He rose to his feet and climbed on the bed without breaking the kiss, causing you to lay down as he towered above you, the hand that had brushed your tears still caressing your cheek with love while the other slid down to cup your breast. 

“Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

[viastro]

they were pretty | chwe vernon hansol

ミ★ synopsis: the moment you lock eyes with your soulmate is when the world will become bright and colorful, but it’s only when the two of you hold eye contact. [dedicated to @memesolvernonchwe​ ! surprise, i’m your secret santa <3]

ミ★ genre: soulmate!au, fluff, some humor

ミ★ warnings: none !

ミ★ word count: 2,116

ミ★ pairings: vernon x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: merry christmas everyone ! and to those who don’t celebrate, i hope you’re having a great day ! especially to my friend, mia. i’m your secret santa !! i hope you enjoyed this, i wanted to make it as fluffy as possible hehe. hope you’re doing well <33 as to everyone else reading this oneshot, i hope you guys enjoy it ! make sure to give vernon lots of love, and to also be safe this holiday season !

“I’m so excited for you to be able to see colors, yn.” You nod your head aimlessly at Nayeon’s comment, knowing that she’ll eventually stop talking about meeting her soulmate once a month passes by. You bite the inside of your cheek at a particularly long paragraph in the textbook, trying to scan through it to find what to take note of. 

“It’s truly so beautiful, I wish everyone would be able to experience it. I can’t wait to go and see her again so that I can see the color of the sky.” Glancing up from your notes, you see Nayeon staring longingly out the window of the library. You let out a breath, before deciding to close your textbook, causing her to turn to look at you. Giving her a smile you say, “Let’s head back to the apartment, mm? So that you can go see Jeongyeon.” 

You watch as Nayeon’s face practically lights up as she nods her head, and the two of you begin to pack up your things. You listen as she continues to ramble about how she can’t wait to look at the color blue again, and you nod your head calmly as the two of you walk out the library. 

“I feel like you’ll like the color pink a lot.” Nayeon tells you when you both reach the crowded crosswalk. Raising an eyebrow, you turn to glance at her as you wait for the crosswalk signal to show that it’s your turn to cross the street. She smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

“Pink is like a sweet and delicate color. It tastes like bubblegum or cotton candy. And it makes you feel… love. I guess.” Nayeon explains in a soft voice, and you nod your head. You glance at your surroundings that are in black and white, the world that you’ve grown used to seeing. 

You wonder if you’ll ever be lucky enough to be able to see the world through Nayeon’s eyes.

The crosswalk signal turns green, and the two of you begin to cross the street. You look at the ground as Nayeon speaks animatedly beside you about how excited she is to see her soulmate, while you half-listen as you walk past all the people going to their own destinations. 

You glance up from the road, and make eye contact with a few people passing by. You’re about to look back down at the crosswalk again when you lock eyes with someone for a brief moment, and you feel your breath get taken away. 

Your world isn’t black and white for a fleeting second. 

“Yn? Are you okay?” Your breath hitches when you see that everything is black and white again. You glance around in panic as you see the normal different shades of grey when the two of you finally cross the street. Nayeon shakes your arm to try and get your attention, but you stare with wide eyes at the other side of the street, heart beating wildly against your chest as you realize your soulmate just walked past you.

and you don’t know who it is.

“WHAT?!” You grimace at Nayeon’s screech as you watch her pace around your bedroom, trying to process the rather unfortunate information that you just bestowed upon her.

more unfortunate for you rather than her but alas…

“So you’re telling me, that you locked eyes with your soulmate as we crossed the street, saw color for one second, then LOST THEM?!” Nayeon asks, stopping in her tracks to turn and face you with an incredulous expression on her face. You slowly nod your head, and she raises a hand to her forehead out of stress. 

“Do you even remember what they looked like? Distinct facial features? Anything?” You stare at Nayeon for a moment, knowing that your answer to her question is going to absolutely destroy her sanity. And so, out of love for your best friend, you slowly shake your head, no. 

Nayeon stares at you, before sinking down to the floor and resting her head in her arms. The two of you stay like that in silence for a moment, and you bite the inside of your cheek. You briefly remember the brilliant colors you saw, but there’s one that stood out in particular to you that you can only describe as being pretty. 

It was a pretty color.

“What are you gonna do now, yn? You met your soulmate and yet you don’t remember anything about what they looked like.” You glance down at your hands, wondering whether or not fate is on your side. You met your soulmate on a busy street for the briefest moment, and you have no recollection of what they may look like other than the color you saw. 

Turning back towards Nayeon, you give her a smile, and her eyes squint in confusion as to how you’re able to muster such a happy smile when you’re in a rather terrible situation. Shrugging your shoulders you look up towards the ceiling, “I’m just happy to have seen colors in that short moment.” 

Nayeon groans and reaches out to slap your leg, making you yelp out in shock. You give her an offended look and she wiggles her finger at your face, “How are you so carefree? I both despise and envy that feature of yours.” 

You grin, reaching out with your foot and nudging her so that she topples onto her side. She turns and glares at you, making you giggle. Running a hand through your hair you mutter, “If fate allows it, I’ll find them again.” 

“You found your soulmate?!” 

“Ah, Seungkwan you’re too loud.” Vernon says with a wince, making the latter squint at him. Seungkwan rolls his eyes, “How can I not be loud? You met your soulmate a week ago and yet you don’t remember what they look like?!” 

Vernon rubs the back of his neck, wondering the exact same thing. He only remembers the burst of color that appeared in that brief moment the two of you locked eyes, but is unable to recall what you looked like. The color of your eyes is all he can remember, as it was what stood out the most to him. 

He thought it was pretty.

The two continue to walk through the park, with Vernon listening quietly as Seungkwan creates a very intricate plan on how to find you as they do so. Vernon glances up at the cherry blossom trees, watching as the petals fly through the air. He’s heard that the color of cherry blossom flowers are magnificent, and he’s dreamt of the day that he’ll be able to see them in their true beauty. 

“Vernon, are you listening? I’m telling you that if we just get Gong Yoo to listen to your story and he likes it, then we can broadcast to the world that you’re looking for your soulmate. All while Gong Yoo plays you in the drama adaptation of your situation. It’s a win win scenario!” Seungkwan explains with a look of certainty on his face, and Vernon bites his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. 

“I think Gong Yoo is on a whole other playing field when it comes to visuals.” Vernon tells Seungkwan, to which his friend scowls, slapping Vernon’s arm. “You’re both handsome.” 

“Yeah but Gong Yoo is something else.” Seungkwan purses his lips at what Vernon said, before nodding his head in agreement. “He do be really handsome at 41 years old.” 

The two converse as they walk around the park, trying to decide where to eat lunch when Vernon hears someone’s loud voice. Seungkwan and him turn towards the direction of the voice, finding two very pretty people laughing underneath the cherry blossom trees.

“Nayeon! You’re so loud, please!” You laugh, and Vernon tilts his head at the sight of you. He takes note of the crinkle to your eyes as you laugh, finding the sight to be rather pretty. Seungkwan raises an eyebrow at Vernon’s silence as they pass by you and Nayeon, wondering what Vernon finds so enticing. 

It’s only when you feel someone staring at you that you turn your head, and your mouth falls open when a burst of color appears right before your eyes. Vernon’s eyes widen when his world is no longer the black and white that he’s known his whole life, and the two of you just stare at each other in a shocked silence.

“Why are you so quiet?” Nayeon asks with a bright smile, only to pause when she sees how flabbergasted you look. Her eyes follow your line of sight, only to gasp when she finds the handsome guy staring at you with an equally shocked expression on his face. 

“I found you.” Vernon breathes out as he stares into your beautiful eyes.

Seungkwan glances between you and Vernon multiple times, waiting for either of you to make a move, only to let out a sigh when he realizes that neither of you are planning on moving. And so, out of love for his best friend, Seungkwan says, “Bitch, go and talk to your soulmate!” and shoves him in your direction. This promptly snaps Vernon out of his daze, and you feel warmth rush to your face when he smiles shyly at you.

Vernon walks towards you, not breaking eye contact, only to stop once the two of you are a foot apart. He grins, reaching his hand out towards you and saying, “Hi. I’m Vernon, your soulmate.” 

A smile breaks out over your own features as you extend your hand and grasp his warm one, “Hi, I’m yn. I think I’m your soulmate.” 

Vernon chuckles, tilting his head at you, “You think?” 

To which you giggle back, nodding your head. “I think so.” 

You’re about to ask Vernon if he’d like to go and get food so that you can get to know each other, only to pause when a soft cherry blossom petal falls directly onto your nose. Vernon smiles softly at the sight, reaching out to pick it off your nose. Your eyes widen slightly at the contact, only for your mouth to fall into an ‘o’ shape when you realize the cherry blossom petal is similar to the color of Vernon’s lips. Without thinking, you take the petal from his hand, and hold it up beside Vernon’s mouth, making him pause at the close proximity between you two. 

Cheerfully you say, “The cherry blossom petals are similar to the color of your lips. It’s pretty.” 

You glance back up into his eyes after staring between the cherry blossom petal and his mouth, only to also physically pause when you realize how close the two of you are. You take notice of the color rising to Vernon’s cheeks, and you bite the inside of your cheek when you realize how pretty he is. 

Nayeon and Seungkwan watch from the side, and Nayeon lets out a happy sigh. She nods her head peacefully, patting herself on the back when she overhears you say that the color pink is pretty. 

Called it, Nayeon thinks to herself with a grin. 

“Do you wanna go and get food together? Get to know each other, maybe?” You ask after a moment of you and Vernon just staring at each other, and he promptly snaps out of his daze. He takes a step back, and you finally exhale the breath you were holding in. He nods his head with a grin, “I’d love to get food. Where do you want to go?” 

You put your finger to your pursed lips as you think, and Vernon hides his smile behind his hand at how cute he thinks the gesture is. After a moment of thinking, Vernon watches as your eyes brighten when you finally come up with where to eat. “Let’s get tteokbokki!” 

He nods his head in agreement, unable to stop himself from smiling at you. You grin, and the two of you begin your descent towards the tteokbokki restaurant, completely forgetting that you both came with a friend as you converse.

Seungkwan and Nayeon let out a sigh, before turning to glance at each other. Seungkwan gestures to you and Vernon’s shrinking figures as you get farther and farther away, “Should we go and get tteokbokki with them even though they forgot we existed?” 

Nayeon turns her head to glance at you and Vernon, letting out a smile when she catches the way you and Vernon turn to look at each other with happy expressions on your faces. Nayeon nods her head after a moment of thought, “Tteokbokki sounds good.” 

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Tell the Truth

Prompts: aaaa the way you write angst is just *chefs kiss* wonderful. I’ve been really enjoying the butterfly project series, it has made me cry multiple times. May I request some fluff to balance the angst? - anon

Excuse me while I sob over Redemption Never Came and politely grabby hand for more angst with a happy ending (Roman angst my beloved) (Also you are an amazing fanfic artist :D) - anon

This is so heartbreaking and whumpy but so soft in the end and I would devour a second part about everyone trying to help undo all the negative patterns they've all instilled in Roman and just showing him affection and everyone's hearts breaking a little more each time he's surprised they actually want to be around him. - LadyofhteWoods

And now a part of me wants to see all those scenarios again, only this time Roman gets loved- walk in the kitchen, get a hug. Sit on the couch? Cuddle pile. Go on a quest? Bring friends, if hurt, patch up and movies. Crying in bed because you had a bad time and your brain is screaming that you suck and a wave of depression has rippled through you and you feel horrible? Have some tea… cry it out…. We’re here. - A_tiny_star_prince

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: self-doubt, self-deprecating thoughts

Pairings: dlampr

Word Count: 7688

Roman lies. A lot. Maybe it's time they did something about it.

Roman’s lies don’t vanish overnight. How could they? When he’s so used to repeating them, over and over, in a horrific little mantra before he goes to sleep, how can he be expected to get rid of them in only one night?

That doesn’t make them less difficult to hear.

Janus is downstairs, helping Virgil fold up one of the blankets strewn about the living room, when he winces and hisses.

“J? You okay?”

Janus nods, jerking his head upward. Virgil follows his gaze and winces too.

“…Princey?”

“I think so.” That’s a lie. He knows it’s Roman.

“I got this,” Virgil says quietly, taking the blanket from Janus, “you go. He seems to let you help more than he lets us.”

He never really had the choice to let me.

Janus swallows heavily as he appears outside Roman’s door. The lies aren’t nearly as poisonous as they were a few days ago, but they’re strong enough to curl his tongue at the bitterness in his throat. He raises a hand to knock on the door.

The lies falter for a moment before another one floats through.

Don’t come in.

He smirks, gently pushing the door open to meet a darkened room.

“Impressive,” he says softly, making his way over to the figure in the bed and perching on the end, “that could’ve been one of mine.”

He’s rewarded with the quietest of huffs before a head shyly peeks out at him from the covers. Janus smiles and tilts his head.

“Hello, sweetie.”

“Hi.” Roman shuffles a little. “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was summoning you.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Janus glances around the room. His computer is off and shut. The bathroom light and fan are off. He looks back. “Can I help, sweetie?”

A shuffling of the blankets that’s probably supposed to be a shrug.

“Let me come find you, then,” he murmurs, standing and moving to where the head was a moment ago, “how did you get this many blankets on top of you?”

He slowly starts to move them out of the way, peeling back layer after layer, only briefly wondering whether or not Roman can breathe properly under these. It’s a careful act, one he treats with the same reverence as cleaning his gloves or his scales, creating a little cocoon of blankets as he gets further and further into the covers.

The last one puffs just the slightest amount, up and down.

So you can breathe, good.

Janus doesn’t move this one all the way out of the way, just lifts it up enough to peer inside. Roman’s little face peers back at him, partially covered by another blanket clutched tight to his chest. He looks so…child-like.

The realization makes something warm turn in Janus’s chest.

“Knock knock,” he says softly, “anyone home?”

Roman blinks. “Mm.”

“May I come in, sweetie?”

“Mm.” Roman jerks his chin toward Janus’s clothes. “Lose the sharp bits.”

Janus snaps his fingers, transforming his usual clothes into a soft yellow shirt and sleep pants. “Better?”

“Mm.”

“How did you manage to get so many blankets balanced on your bed,” Janus asks as he slips beside Roman, “mine always fall off after three.”

“Practice.” Roman shifts to make room.

Janus frowns. “Come here, sweetie, let me cuddle you.”

“You don’t have to.”

The frown deepens. “Sweetie?”

Roman buries his face a little deeper into the blanket. “You don’t like cuddling. Virgil an’ Remus said so.”

Oh, Roman…

“Come, sweetie,” he insists, tugging Roman gently into a proper hug, “there.”

“But—but—“

“I may not be as big a fan of cuddling as you and Patton,” Janus says firmly, cupping Roman’s face, “and I’m certainly the type that enjoys being tackled by Remus—“

Roman snorts.

“—but you’re upset,” he finishes gently, “and I want to help.”

Burden.

Needy.

Don’t understand boundaries.

Don’t deserve help.

Janus hisses. Roman sighs.

“Sorry.”

“No need for that,” he assures, still cradling Roman’s face as he pulls him close, “I understand. It’s alright.”

“I know, and I—I don’t want you to leave, but—“ Roman swallows— “I just—I still don’t believe you’re here.”

Janus wraps a pair of arms around Roman’s waist and squeezes. “I’m real, I’m here.”

“I just—“

There’s another lie swirling in Roman’s brain, too nebulous to make it all the way to Janus, but present enough that it makes his mouth tingle. He leans down to kiss Roman’s forehead.

“…you said it was your job to protect the Ego.”

“That’s right, sweetie, it is.”

“I guess I…I just…”

Janus gives Roman another encouraging squeeze. Roman brings the blanket further up his face.

“…I guess I figured that if you—if you could h-hate me that much or h-hurt me that badly and not—not care, then you…maybe you…”

Janus’s heart clenches as the lie finally makes itself known.

Not worth protecting.

He pulls away, shushing the heartbroken whine that Roman makes, taking off his gloves and wrapping every arm around the poor thing. He presses another kiss to his forehead, letting the hiss out into his hair.

“That’s not true, sweetie,” he promises, “and you’ll never know how sorry I am for hurting you and letting it get this far.”

And the poor thing is so tired, so weary that he goes limp in Janus’s arms, save for the blanket clutched tightly to his face. Janus frowns, opening his mouth to say that might be a little uncomfortable, what with Roman’s arms tucked between them, when he starts putting the pieces together.

Roman is still wearing a fair amount of clothing, he’s got something pressed up against his face, under his chin, and he’s got so many blankets piled on top of him that even Janus feels warm.

“And here I thought I couldn’t feel more rotten,” he whispers, carding one hand through Roman’s hair, another scratching gently between his shoulder blades, “but you must be in agony.”

A questioning hum is let out against his throat.

“You’re still touch starved, sweetie,” he says in way of answering, squeezing a little tighter, “are you still cold?”

There’s a soft rush of breath as Janus cups the back of his neck and then a noise is just about torn from his throat as he uses it to pull Roman close.

“Oh, shh, shh, you poor thing,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to his cheek, “I’m right here, sweetie, I won’t leave you.”

They lie there for a while longer, Roman’s arms slowly lowering the blanket until he shyly puts his arms around Janus in return.

“There you go, sweetie,” he encourages, “hold onto me, that’s it.”

“Why—why are you letting me hug you?”

“Because it seems like you’d like to hug me.” Janus squeezes him again. “You don’t need to have a reason, sweetie, if you need a cuddle, you can have one.”

I need a reason. I need an excuse. I need an argument. I have to convince you.

Another hiss. “You can always ask for hugs, sweetie, you don’t need to convince me to hug you.”

“…really?”

Oh, Roman… “Yes, sweetie, you can ask any of us.”

The wave of disbelief that hits him makes him grit his teeth.

“I promise, sweetie. I promise.” Another kiss to his forehead. “You’re not unwanted, you’re not a burden.”

The silence he gets implies that Roman may not want to prove that—or disprove it—for himself right now.

“…can we just stay here for a bit?”

“For as long as you need, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, settling them in for some rest, “for as long as you want.”

——————————

Patton is in the kitchen, the first one downstairs this morning. There’s already a pot of coffee brewing and he sets the kettle up on the counter. He reaches up to pull the mugs for everyone. The plain black one for Logan, the Nightmare Before Christmas one for Virgil, the sparkly one for Remus, and the blue puppy one for himself. He frowns.

Roman used to keep his mug down here too. This really big red one with a golden crown on the side. He hasn’t seen it in ages.

Footsteps on the stairs.

He turns and sees Roman walk into the kitchen, smiling brightly as if there’s nothing wrong in the world, not a seam or stitch of his prince costume out of place. He strides into the room like he owns it, as if he’s just come down the stairs in his resplendent palace to a crown of adoring onlookers.

“Ah! Patton!” Goodness, he speaks like it too. “Good morning!”

“Roman!” Patton rushes forward and wraps him in a hug.

This is where everything goes wrong.

Roman tenses. Not in a way that means he wants out, but out of sheer surprise. Patton waits for Roman’s arms to wrap around him but instead, there’s just a very, very soft touch to his shoulder.

“Patton,” he asks quietly, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m great, kiddo, why?”

“W-well, you’re…you’re hugging me.”

“Sure am.”

“…why?”

Suddenly Patton feels very cold.

He pulls back, not enough to let Roman go completely, but enough to look up and see a truly heartbreaking look of confusion on his face. He can’t help the soft noise that comes out of his mouth as he raises one hand to his face.

“Are you asking why I’m hugging you?” Roman nods. “I want to hug you, kiddo. You’re hug-shaped.”

“I’m…what?”

“Hug-shaped,” Patton repeats, tugging him a little closer with the arm still around his waist, “you’re worth hugging, I like hugging you.”

“O-oh.”

And Patton has to watch as every scrap of confidence falls from Roman’s expression, his shoulders slump, and he looks like he loses some of his height, even. The shift is so drastic that it almost springs tears to his eyes at how much Prince Roman suddenly looks like a lost child, swimming in a costume too big and too heavy for him. Roman face contorts as he looks at a spot on the counter, furrowing his brow as if it’ll explain everything to him if he just glares hard enough.

There’s something fragile about the way Roman leans into Patton’s hand, something breakable about how warm he is right now. Patton shifts his weight to his other leg and there’s a flash of panic in Roman’s eyes, quickly stifled but there.

“Oh, kiddo, I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, pulling Roman back in for a proper hug, “I’m right here, it’s okay. You just let it out, okay?”

Roman’s breathe shudders a little into Patton’s shoulder. Then he starts pushing Patton away.

Patton listens, confused, until he watches Roman shake himself and put the mask of the prince right back on.

“Terribly sorry,” he says in the awful, awful cheerful voice as he rakes a hand through his hair, “don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t,” Patton blurts before he can stop himself, “don’t do that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t do what, Padre?”

“Don’t pretend,” he says, reaching out for Roman again, “you don’t have to pretend you’re okay. Or that you don’t want something.”

“I don’t like being needy, Patton,” Roman says in a soft voice that’s just this side of wobbly, “and you don’t like me needy.”

And doesn’t that just feel hot and guilty in Patton’s throat?

“I like you, sweetheart,” he says instead, “and you’re not being needy if you want comfort or even just a touch. You’re allowed to want something, Roman, you are.”

Roman huffs in disbelief and turns.

“No, Roman—“ Patton hurries to get in front of him— “you are.”

Something flickers across Roman’s expression. Patton doesn’t even need Janus to tell him that Roman thinks he’s walking into a trap.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Patton says quietly, “I’ve hurt you so much, haven’t I? I’ve made you think that your job is wrong, that you—that you’re wrong and you’re not, kiddo. You’re not wrong. You’re not awful. I promise.”

Roman’s lip wobbles.

“Oh, come here, sweetheart,” Patton coos, wrapping him back in a hug, and finally, finally Roman’s arms come up to wrap around him too, before he’s being squeezed so tight it borders on painful.

Patton doesn’t care.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart, I promise.” He rocks them back and forth a little as Roman buries his face in his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, I know we will.”

They stay like that until the kettle goes off and Roman startles, jumping back a little bit. Patton soothes away the last of the jitters and smiles, watching Roman look like…Roman. Not the Prince, not the horribly lost child, just…just Roman.

“I think that’s my cue to make you the biggest mug of hot chocolate you’ve had since Christmas,” he says quietly, “now what mug would you like?”

Roman glances at the cabinet. “Anyone is fine.”

“Then why don’t you go grab one while I get the hot chocolate?”

Patton busies himself with the box, purposely letting Roman have his privacy as he picks out a mug, trying not to make his smile too blinding when he turns and sees Roman shyly hold out a big red mug with a sparkly crown.

“Good choice,” he says softly as he takes it from him, “I missed this mug.”

Judging by the way Roman’s mouth curls up in a little smile, he knows what Patton meant.

——————————

Virgil walks into the room and sees Roman sprawled out across the chair. He almost doesn’t see it.

He’s got to give it to Janus; even though he knows he can hear lies, he’s not sure he would’ve believed that they were actually coming from Roman. Because Roman looks the fucking picture of relaxed right now. It looks like he saw Patton and Logan on the couch and decided there wasn’t enough room for him to take up as much space as he wants. It looks like he’s occupying the entire fucking corner and not just the chair. It looks like he’s every bit the arrogant prince they used to think he was.

Then he sees how tight his jaw is and the slight tremble of his hands.

The room isn’t warm, there’s no reason for Princey to be shivering. There’s certainly no reason for him to be so tense as he sits in the chair, tapping a pen against his cheek in a fabulous impression of mindless thinking but is actually a carefully controlled way of preventing himself from moving any further.

He’s gotta hand it to him. Princey’s good.

Virgil walks up to Roman and shoves his hands into his pockets as Roman looks up.

“Dark and Stormy,” he says in a perfected casual lilt, “is there something I can do for you?”

And wow, okay, if this is what Janus hears all the time then Virgil has no idea how he fucking does it.

Janus hears lies, Virgil hears fears.

Please don’t make me leave.

If you want the chair I’l give it to you, I’ll move, I’ll sit on the floor, I’ll be quiet, but please don’t make me go. I want to stay, please, can I—can I stay? Is that okay?

Virgil tilts his head. “Move the book.”

Roman furrows his brow. “What?”

“The book.” Virgil nods to the notebook in Roman’s lap. “Move it. Move your arm.”

Confused, Roman does as he asks only to squeak in surprise when Virgil pronounces it perfect and plonks himself in Roman’s lap.

“Virgil!”

“Yeah?” Virgil pulls out his phone and leans his head against Roman’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

“You—you’re—“ Roman still doesn’t move— “you’re in my lap.”

“Sure am.” Virgil looks up at him and lowers his voice to a whisper. “No?”

Roman’s voice drops too. “What?”

Virgil indicates his weight. “No? This okay?”

“Y-yeah, it’s fine, I just—what?”

In lieu of a verbal answer, Virgil reaches behind him to take Roman’s free hand and pull it close, tucking it under his chin and clutching it there. Roman’s hand trembles. He finds himself absentmindedly running his thumb over the knuckles, the palm, the fingers. He keeps his eyes on Roman’s face.

Roman’s other arm lowers, gingerly resting on Virgil’s legs. Virgil smiles and squeezes his hand.

“I’m sorry, Princey,” he whispers, “I’ve been fucking awful to you.”

Roman’s face twitches. “…so have I.”

“What, been awful to me or awful to you?”

For a moment, he thinks Roman’s just going to say that he’s been awful to Virgil. Which, yes, he was in the past, but not like Virgil’s been. But instead, Roman opens his mouth and shakily whispers: ‘both.’

“I know, Princey.” Virgil squeezes his hand again. “You’re all good with me, and we can…if you want, I can help with the second part too.”

Roman’s eyes widen and godfuckingdamnit that hurts.

“I gotcha, Roman,” he says softly, lacing their fingers together, “and ‘m sorry I haven’t been there for you recently.”

Roman swallows, Virgil’s eyes drawn to the roll of his throat. “You…you want to help me?”

Roman, you’re gonna ruin my reputation of not having a heart by smashing it into fucking pieces.

“Yeah, Roman,” he reassures, “I wanna help you. You’re important.”

“I am?”

“Sure are, Princey.” He lightly knocks his head against Roman’s. “And if it ever feels like I don’t believe that, call me out on my bullshit. ‘Cause that’s bullshit.”

“What are you two muttering about over there?” Patton shakes his head fondly when Virgil decides to just turn his head upside down instead of turning around. “Virgil, that’s not good for your spine.”

“We’re metaphysical, Pop-star, who cares?”

“When you start complaining about neck pain,” Logan says wryly, “me.”

He glances up too and Virgil hides a smirk at how his face softens when he spots Roman’s expression.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes,” Roman says hurriedly, “everything’s fine.”

“It’s Hug Roman time,” Virgil says immediately after, “so I’m hugging Roman.”

“I think that’s less of a hug than you sitting on his lap,” Logan says, standing, “but we’ll never fit all of us on that chair.”

Virgil feels more than hears Roman’s inhale as Logan and Patton start moving the couch cushions to the floor. He sits back upright just in time to see Roman’s hopeful face and butts his head against his again.

“Come on, Princey, let’s go.”

“…are you going to stand up, or…?”

“Or you could carry me.”

“Virgil,” he hears Patton chide.

“No, no,” Roman says, “it’s fine, I can carry him if he wants to be carried. I will need my hand back, though.”

Okay, yes, Virgil does enjoy Roman carrying him a bit too much for altruistic purposes but it’s worth it when Roman goes to gently set him down and the other two pull him down instead.

“There,” Logan says softly as Roman’s head comes to rest against the base of the couch, “much better.”

Roman opens his mouth to say something when Logan’s hand tangles in his hair and it turns into a slightly strangled sound. Patton chuckles, wrapping his arms around Roman and sighing softly.

“Hey, who wants to play a game?”

Remus’s head pops up from behind the couch.

“We’re already playing a game,” Virgil says, “it’s called Cuddle Roman, now get your butt down here.”

Remus gasps. “My favorite!”

“Okay good,” Virgil mutters as he moves out of Roman’s lap to make room for Remus, “I totally thought he was talking about butts.”

“I have a feeling, my dear,” Janus sighs, striding from the shadows and totally not making Virgil jump, “that it’s both.”

Remus just cackles. Janus takes a seat, reaching out to take one of Roman’s hands in his. Roman frowns at him slightly, his head still spinning from the amount of people around him.

“What—is there something wrong?”

Janus shakes his head. “It’s Hug Roman hours. So I’m here.”

Vigil chuckles at the blush on Roman’s face. “So this is becoming a regular thing, right?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Indeed.”

“Yay!”

Remus just holds his brother tighter.

——————————

“…come in.”

“If you’d like to reschedule, Roman, it’s no trouble, I’m happy to…”

Logan trails off as he walks into the room, Roman’s back to him as he hunches over a table near the door to the Imagination. He shuts the door quietly behind him and tucks the notebook under his arm.

“Roman?” He takes a step forward. “Are you alright?”

“Never better, Specs,” Roman says cheerily, too cheerily, “just give me one moment and I’m all yours.”

Logan frowns. “If you’d like to reschedule, Roman,” he repeats, softer this time, “I can assure you, it’s fine.”

“No, no, that’d be rude.” Something crinkles in Roman’s hands. “Just—just one moment.”

There’s a heavy clunk and a barely contained hiss.

“Roman—“ he starts forward— “are you hurt?”

“Not hurt.” Another clunk. “Just…incredibly clumsy, it seems.”

“Can I help?”

If he weren’t paying attention, he would miss the way Roman’s shoulders tense with disbelief.

“N-no, that’s alright,” Roman says, the first time his voice has slipped, “I’m just…no, it’s alright.”

He jerks his head toward the desk, being very careful not to let Logan see his face.

“It’s over there, I’ll be with you in one moment.”

Logan looks, then walks over to the desk and carefully sets down his notebook. He glances up at Roman and can’t stop the soft noise at seeing Roman’s hands shake and fumble with a large bottle.

“Roman,” he calls softly, “Roman, please.”

Roman freezes.

“…please what?”

“Let me help you,” he says, walking over, “let me help you with this.”

Roman shudders and tries to laugh again. “You don’t need to busy yourself with inane and worthless tasks, Logan.”

Oh. Oh, dear.

“You’re not inane or worthless, Roman,” he says firmly, “nor are you a task.”

Roman’s shoulder is cold under his hand. He cups it nonetheless and leans closer, mindful to keep his gaze down and away.

“Please?”

Under his hand, Roman sighs. “…if that’s what you want.”

He’s not prepared for when Roman turns around, a bottle of micellar water in one hand and cotton ovals in the other. His makeup—done so wonderfully this morning—is smeared and wearing away, his nose bright red under the concealer. Logan lets out another soft noise, taking the proffered items and gently pushing Roman to sit on the table.

He takes one of the cotton ovals and gets it damp, cupping Roman’s chin in one hand.

“Let me know if anything starts to sting or hurt,” he instructs softly and starts to clean the smudges from his face. Roman sits perfectly still, his gaze down at Logan’s tie. His hands fold neatly in his lap and he looks every bit the cooperative ideal.

Except for the way he looks terrified every time Logan so much as shifts his hand.

“You are not worthless,” Logan says quietly as he works, swapping out the cotton ovals when needed, “you are not annoying me. You are someone I care about very deeply and someone I enjoy helping.”

Roman’s chin wobbles.

“I am always impressed by the ideas you create,” he continues after quietly bidding Roman to turn slightly, “and you never cease to amaze me with your creativity.”

Roman’s throat works against his hand as he swallows. “Remus—“

“Remus is Remus,” Logan interrupts gently, “turn—yes, there you go—and you are Roman. You are clever, you are kind, and you are wonderful, and I care about you very much.”

He takes a new cotton oval and takes Roman’s chin again, tapping gently until Roman makes eye contact.

“Close your eyes,” he bids, “and let me know if they start to sting at any point.”

Roman closes his eyes and Logan carefully, carefully starts to clean off the eyeshadow. The golden sparkles are stubborn, clinging to the skin, but he works patiently until the last of them come off. He realizes after that the oval is wetter than it was when he began.

“Oh, little star,” he breathes, glancing around and summoning a soft washcloth to clean Roman’s face the rest of the way, “it’s alright, you can cry if you need to. I won’t mind.”

“It’s stupid,” Roman mutters, raising a hand to swipe angrily at the tears, “it’s stupid.”

“If it’s making you upset, it’s not stupid.” Logan gently but firmly places Roman’s hands on his own shoulders and replaces them with the cloth. “Tell me?”

“I—it’s not even a quest.” Roman’s voice cracks horribly on the last word. “It’s just—I was making something and it broke and I—I worked really hard on it and now it’s ruined.”

Logan lets out a soft noise. “I’m sorry.”

His chest aches when the apology makes Roman shake himself. “It’s fine. Sorry, I didn’t want to just dump that on you.”

“I asked you to tell me what was wrong,” Logan chides, patting his cheek dry, “you’re not dumping anything on me.”

He sets the cloth aside and cups Roman’s face with his hands.

“And I am also sorry,” he whispers, “that I have made you believe that I do not worry about you the same way I worry about Thomas.”

Roman’s eyes fly open. “You—you what?”

“I care about you very deeply, Roman,” Logan says, “you’re very important to me. So yes, of course, I worry about you. You’re upset, and I’ve made you feel like you can’t come to me. I…I have not behaved well toward you. And I will remedy that.”

A new wave of tears meets Logan’s thumbs carefully swiping them away.

“Bonk?”

Roman leans forward and lets Logan rest their foreheads together. After a moment, his hands move to give Roman a proper hug, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead.

“What were you making, if I may ask?”

“…just a house.” Roman sniffles. “It got destroyed in the last brainstorm.”

“Would you like help?”

“…don’t we have to work on the ideas?”

Logan smiles, resting their foreheads together once more. “This feels more important, doesn’t it?”

Roman’s small but warm smile is more than worth the extra hours they’ll have to spend working on the videos.

——————————

Somehow they forgot.

Somehow they forgot that Roman was scared of the dark.

It wasn’t common that thunderstorms plagued the Imagination, simply because—well, Thomas didn’t need literal brainstorms when he’s got Logan working with him. Sure, sometimes Remus decides he’s going to make his entrance extra cliché and arrive in a literal flash of lightning. Or Roman will create a field of flowers larger than the eye can see and soft bruised purple clouds will roll across the sky, quiet thunder and light rain that feels like a cushion.

But it’s never enough to cause a blackout.

For a moment, they’re all just confused. Thomas’s apartment is fine, Thomas is fine, so they don’t understand what’s happened. Then Remus points out that they, uh, maybe didn’t close the door to the Imagination as tightly as they should have.

He gets smacked upside the head for that.

So they’re here, in the middle of the dark, trying frantically to figure out how to not run into everything. Well, three of them are fine. Virgil can see in the dark. Janus can see in the dark. Remus can see in the dark.

“Is that because you’re the Dark Sides,” Patton mumbles as he puts his glasses back on for the fifth time in the past minute, “or do you each have some kind of ability?”

Remus smiles, even if Patton can’t see it. “It’s more fun!”

“That doesn’t—“ Logan pinches the bridge of his nose— “that doesn’t even answer the question, Remus.”

“I think you’ll find that’s his justification for most things,” Janus says wryly, taking Patton carefully by the arm and guiding him to sit on the couch, safely out of harm’s way.

Virgil elbows Remus to get him to put down the Morningstar, please, and sits down next to Patton. “How long is this going to take to go away?”

Remus shrugs. “Dunno. Probably won’t be that long. We all just gotta sit tight.”

Janus raises a hand to his mouth—not that Logan can truly appreciate his expression—and mock gasps. “Remus, suggesting that we don’t do anything?”

“Oh, fuck off, Snakey.”

“Language!”

Remus blows a fat raspberry. “Even I know it’s a bad idea to try and do something right now. I mean ask Roman—“

It takes a moment for them to realize that Roman isn’t sitting there.

“We should go get him,” Logan says after a moment, “just to make sure we’re all in the same place.”

And with that, Remus is off, stomping up the stairs and conveniently forgetting that two Sides can’t see past the little pinpricks of light at the bottom of the windows. Virgil rolls his eyes and makes to stand, only to frown.

“Virgil?” Logan touches his elbow when he notices him pause. “Are you alright?”

“Feels like I’m being summoned.” He rubs his chest absentmindedly. “But not really.”

“Well, let’s just keep an eye on—hey!”

Virgil doesn’t even hear the end of Logan’s sentence before he’s yanked into another room.

He blinks, disoriented, shaking his head to figure out where he is. Only when Remus bursts up the stairs and pouts that how dare Virgil sink out to beat him here does he realize why he’s here.

Judging by the way Remus’s face falls a second later, he does too.

Remus knocks lightly on the door. After a moment, he curses and goes to knock louder.

“Don’t,” Virgil mutters, grabbing Remus’s arm, “you’re gonna freak him out more.”

“Well, I can’t just blow the fucking door open,” he growls, shaking him off, “that’s gonna make it worse.”

He opens his mouth but another sharp tug from his chest makes him wince. “Okay, then don’t bust it down. Just—oh, god, we gotta get in there.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.”

Remus doesn’t rear back and kick the door open, which says something about how concerned he is. They can’t see much of anything except for—

—oh.

Oh, no.

Roman notices immediately when the blackout happens. How could he not? He’d been in the middle of trying to sort out his journal for the day when suddenly he was drowning.

Oh god.

Oh, god.

Within an instant, his chest seizes. He can’t see. He can’t see. There’s something—

No. No, it’s fine. He’s in his room. Everything is fine. Because he’s safe. He’s in his room, he knows where everything is, he knows what everything is in here, he’s fine.

There’s nothing here to be scared of. There’s nothing here to be scared of.

So why is Roman so scared?

He shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t be. He’s a prince, for Disney’s sake, he’s the protector of the Mindscape, he’s—he’s—

He’s Prince Roman. Not some newly minted squire crying because he’s away from home for the first time and it’s all dark and scary and he can’t see anything because he doesn’t know what’s going on and he can’t tell where anything is and he swears he can see things moving in the shadows and—and—and—

Roman shoves his fist in his mouth before he can whimper.

No. No. He’s fine.

He’s fine.

…besides, what would the others say?

He’s a prince. He’s Roman. He’s not some scared weak thing. He’s just—he’s just—it’s—it’s—

They can’t see him like this. He’s supposed to be strong. He’ll never be taken seriously if they don’t see that he can be strong. They don’t take him seriously already, do they? Let alone if they could see him in the dark, alone, hyperventilating, terrified.

But he is.

He’s—he—

Something moves.

Oh, god, something moved.

He freezes, goes absolutely still, tries frantically to still his heaving chest, be small, be unnoticeable, his pride doesn’t matter right now, it doesn’t, he’s not gonna be hurt if he can’t be seen—

“Ro-Bro?”

His next inhale is a whine.

No, no, not Remus—he can’t—not Remus, Remus is strong, Remus will laugh at him, Remus loves the dark, he can’t cry in front of Remus, not for this—

“Oh, Ro-Bro,” he hears through the haze, “Ro-Bro, I’m so fucking sorry, I forgot, hey—hey—“

He won’t cry. He won’t cry. He won’t cry.

“Hey,” Remus calls, tugging carefully at the hand clapped over his mouth, “hey, don’t do that, Roro, you’re gonna hurt yourself, stop it, it’s gonna fucking hurt if you do that, you know that—“

The sob that tears itself out of his throat as Remus pries his hand away hurts his ears.

“Hey, Roro,” Remus soothes, taking his hands and squeezing them firmly, “hey, you gotta just be here for me, you focus on me, okay?”

“Re—“

“Come here, Ro.”

Remus scoops him up into his lap. To hell with whatever is twisting around in the shadows, Remus is holding him in his lap, rocking him back and forth and Remus is of the dark.

A rush of shame through his stomach and the first real sob into Remus’s shoulder hurts.

“Nuh-uh, Ro,” comes the mutter over his head, “don’t hold it in.”

The shame only grows. Then Remus tightens his grip until it’s all he can feel.

“I’m right here, Ro, I’m right here. It’s okay. You can be scared.”

“N-not scared.”

A gentle hiss in his ear as something—someone presses against his back and more arms than he can count wrap around his chest.

“Shh, shh,” Remus murmurs as he starts, “it’s just Janny.”

“Boo,” Janus whispers as he presses a kiss on his shoulder. Why—why is he here—did he—did he lie too much? He’s not scared, he’s not scared—

“Shh, sweetie,” he whispers as Roman starts to flinch, “I’ve got you, you’re okay, sweetie, stop that. We’ve got you.”

“You’re scared, bud.” Is that—is that Virgil? “Hey, hey, buddy, we got you. I’m sorry, Roman, I forgot you were so scared of the dark.”

Can’t be scared, can’t be scared—

“Shh, shh, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “stop that. You’re allowed to be scared, it’s okay. You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”

Virgil presses closer, nudging Janus’s head out of the way and replacing it with his own. He leans down to nuzzle into the crook of Roman’s neck, finding the place his collar digs into his neck and loosening it. Curse him. Curse him.

“Hey, bud,” Virgil murmurs, “you’re okay. You’re okay.”

“N-no—“

Janus hisses gently in his ear again.

“No—“ Roman’s breath hitches— “no, no, no—“

“Roman,” comes Logan’s warm voice from somewhere above him, and no—

“Give him to me,” he hears again after a moment, and when he feels Remus’s arms begin to loosen and Janus pulls away he mewls—

“Hush, little one,” Logan says softly, gathering the poor prince into his lap, “you’re safe, you’re right here, it’s just a blackout.”

“You’ll—“ Roman hiccups, his hands still pushing Logan away from him— “you’ll laugh—“

“Never,” comes the chorus, Logan’s arms firmly around his waist. Then another pair of hands covers his and pulls them away.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, gently but firmly placing his arms around Logan’s neck so Logan can cuddle him properly, “sorry it took us a little longer to get here, we had to take it slow up the stairs.”

“Pat—Pat—“

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Patton coos, crouching down to run a hand through his hair as Logan tucks him into the crook of his neck and Virgil rests his head on his shoulder, “we’re all here, it’s okay.”

“Stupid—st—stupid,” Roman mumbles, “I’m stupid—“

Another hiss, followed by a kiss to the nape of his neck. “Stop lying, sweetie,” Janus whispers, “stop it. You’re not stupid.”

“I’m a prince afraid of the dark,” Roman spits out, disgusted, “of course I’m stupid.”

“Falsehood,” Logan murmurs with more tenderness than Roman can remember, “you’re not stupid. You’re not.”

“I’m crying because I’m afraid of the dark,” he spits again, “I’m af-fraid of the dark—I’m afraid of the dark, I’m—I’m afraid—“

He’s afraid of the dark.

Patton presses a kiss to his forehead. “I don’t like the dark either, sweetheart.”

“You’re—you’re not—you’re not crying—“

“No, I’m not.” Another kiss. “But you are, Roman, and that’s okay.”

“Come on, Princey.” Virgil butts his head gently against Roman’s. “You just gotta breathe first, okay? We’re not going anywhere.”

Remus calls from somewhere over his shoulder—what has he been doing? Where’s he been?— “come on, I got all the pillows.”

“Re?”

“Come on, Ro-Bro,” Remus murmurs, appearing at his other shoulder, “close your eyes.”

“It’s already d-dark, Re.”

“I know, but I don’t wanna get the blanket in your eyes.” Suddenly, there’s a swath of fabric hitting him in the face. “It’s just for a moment, Roro.”

“Ready?” Logan scoops him up. “Up we go.”

“H-how can you see?”

“He can’t,” Janus says, suddenly appearing behind him, “but I can. Come now, my prince, we’re just over here, come on…”

Roman lets out a soft noise of surprise when his back hits something soft.

“Snap yourself into something more comfortable, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “we’re all just going to stay here for a while.”

Patton takes his hand and kisses the back of it as Logan helps tug down the t-shirt he’s poofed himself into.

“I’m sorry,” Roman mumbles, “I’m sorry I’m so scared.”

“None of that now, sweetheart,” Patton chides, cuddling into his side—oh, Patton’s in soft things too now— “you’re gonna be taken care of now. We’re right here.”

“I’m right here, Ro-Bro,” Remus says, promptly flopping down over Roman’s legs, “and no one else is going anywhere.”

Virgil huffs, curling around his head and ruffling his hair. “He’s right, Princey. Just relax for a little.”

“H-how long is the blackout going to last?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” Janus says, snuggling into his other side, taking his hand between two of his, “but we’ll be here the whole time. Now please, sweetie, breathe.”

He tries. But it’s still dark and even though he knows the others are here, he can still feel the darkness pressing in on top of him. He can still see things moving in the shadows. He can feel it. He can see it. It hurts.

“Roman,” comes Logan’s voice, warm in the dark, “Roman, listen to me.”

“L-Logan?”

“Yes, dear,” he says, “it’s alright. Virgil is by your head, and he can see in the dark.”

Virgil gives his hair a little tug. “Right here, Princey. I’ve got you.”

“Patton is on your left. He won’t let anything hurt you.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Patton kisses his cheek. “I won’t leave you.”

“Janus is on your right. He can also see in the dark, and it’s his job to protect you.”

Janus leans down to kiss his temple and squeezes his hand. “My prince,” he murmurs tenderly, “my sweetie.”

“And Remus…”

“Nothing’s laying a fucking finger on you, Ro-Bro,” Remus growls from down by his feet, “they’re gonna have to get through me first.”

Logan chuckles. “See?”

“L-Logan?”

“I’m right here, little star,” he says softly, “what do you need?”

“W—where are you?” Roman’s hands tense in Patton’s and Janus’s. “Where—I—I can’t—“

“Hush now,” Logan says, so softly, so softly, as a hand cups his cheek to brush away his tears, “I’m right here, I know you can’t see me. I’m sorry. I know it’s dark. I know you’re afraid. It’s okay, my dear, shh.”

Roman tries to reach out for him only to be thwarted by the grip on his hands.

“Hush, Roman, it’s alright, what can I do?”

“S-stay, please, stay—I want you to stay—“

“I’m right here, can I—“

“Please—“

He almost sobs again with relief when Logan lies down, his head tucked over his shoulder, curling his arms about his waist.

“We’re right here, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “we’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Patton kisses the back of his hand.

“It’s okay to be scared, Princey.”

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Roro.”

It takes another half an hour for the storm to end and the lights to flicker back on. Roman stays tucked up in their arms, their soft words in his ear, gentle hands wiping away his tears, until he can blink up at all of them and murmur ‘thank you.’

“Of course, sweetie.”

“We’re here for you, Roman.”

“It’s no problem, Princey.”

“We’ve got you, kiddo.”

“All you gotta do is ask, Roro.”

——————————

Remus knocks on the door, the present in his hands. Roman opens the door and tilts his head.

“Re?”

“Can I come in, Ro-Bro?”

“Yeah, yeah, come on.” Roman shuts the door. “What’s up?”

“This is for you,” Remus says, holding out the box.

“Oh—Remus, I didn’t—I’m sorry—“

“You didn’t miss anything, Ro,” Remus says quickly, “and I’m not expecting anything in return. Just wanted to give you something.”

He shuffles.

“And I, uh, I also haven’t really apologized for the shit I’ve done to you, so…it’s that too.”

“O-oh.” Roman clutches the box. “Thank you, Remus. Can I open it now?”

“Sure.” He watches as Roman carefully opens the box and pulls out the stuffed octopus.

“Oh, Re, this is so cute!” He holds it up, looking at the little face. “I love it, thank you.”

He turns it over.

“Wait, what’s…”

“It’s a mood toy,” Remus says quietly, “if you flip it this way, it’s happy.”

The cream side of the octopus has a little smiley face.

“And if you turn it inside out—“ Roman flips the plush so that a red face frowns at him— “it’s sad.”

Roman’s eyes widen and he looks up at Remus.

“I know you find it hard to ask for things,” Remus says, edging a bit closer, “so I thought this could…help.”

“Re…”

“And I—oof!” Remus lets out a grunt as Roman tackles him onto the bed. He chuckles, his arms wrapping tightly around his brother. “I’m glad you like it Roro, just promise me you’ll use it?”

He gets his request a few days later.

It’s been quiet, Thomas is taking a break, and they’re all in various corners of the living room. Janus and Virgil are lazing about in the patch of sun by the window, Patton is in the kitchen, Logan is working on something on his laptop, and Remus is toying with the grip on his Morningstar.

Roman walks down the stairs and he’s clutching a little red octopus.

“Hey, Ro,” Remus says quietly, hopping up and scurrying over to meet him as he comes down the stairs, “you wanna go be alone?”

Roman shakes his head, pushing gingerly into the living room. Remus turns to see everyone paying attention to them, including Janus, who’s sat up fully and is reaching out to Roman.

“Come here, sweetie,” he calls, “is your brain being a bastard?”

Distantly, Remus hears Patton huff at the language but no one says a word as Janus gathers Roman into his chest, bending to murmur softly in his ear. Virgil scoots closer, acting as the guardian, letting Roman relax with the knowledge that nothing will surprise him right now. A gentle tap on Remus’s shoulder and he turns to see Logan, who bends closer.

“What do we do to help?”

“Help me make a mattress big enough for all of us?”

Under Logan’s guidance, Remus manages to make a normal mattress with lots of comfy blankets and pillows. Patton comes from the kitchen with a glass of water set on the table near the three on the floor. He pauses as he turns and quickly sets a cup of tea next to it.

Roman’s grip on the octopus doesn’t lighten up, even after he’s been in Janus’s arms for a while, even after Logan’s gone over and helped Virgil walk him through coming out of the spiral. Janus walks over to Remus and Patton and quietly tells them they should try and get them all to eat something. Nothing too straining for Roman’s system, but something.

Patton brings out a few bowls of snack food and sets them at the foot of the mattress. Then he goes and gently cards his hands through Roman’s hair.

“Come on, kiddos,” he says softly, “let’s move to the mattress.”

Logan scoops Roman into his arms, depositing him safely in the center of the mattress, little red octopus in tow. The rest of them cuddle around him, some Disney movie playing on the TV. Roman eats, then lays his head on Remus’s shoulder. Logan takes Roman’s free hand into his lap and cradles it there, stroking it with his thumb.

About halfway through the movie, Roman turns the octopus so that the cream side smiles at the screen too.

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[make-me-imagine]

Scenario Prompts: Feb 22 E: + Feb 18 E: Lucifer is protective of you because he is in love with you + Lucifer Confesses he is in love with you, because he is in love with you.  Requested by: Two Separate(?) Anons

Premise: Lucifer has protected and saved you multiple times in the past; when you are finally alone with him you get the chance to ask him why. 

Pairing: Lucifer x Gen!Neutral Reader

Triggers: Fighting, Blood, injuries, monster death, etc.             

Words: 3k (told you it was long)

Everything Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural​ Supernatural Taglist: @kaashi​

Note: I have not seen the last 3-4 seasons of Supernatural. So this is based in a world were Lucifer is like Crowley; he’s a “bad guy” that shows up to help, and annoy Sam and Dean occasionally and what not.

See about Scenario Prompt Requests: here

You eyed the angel from the corner of your eye as he leaned against the doorway, picking at his nails. Walking across the room and stopping next to Dean you spoke quietly to him “Why is he here again exactly?” 

He glanced over at Lucifer before responding “No idea, but I guess it’s better to have an eye on him than to have no idea where he is and what he’s up too.” 

You looked over at Lucifer, your heart skipping a beat when you see that he is now staring at you. Looking back at Dean you muttered “If you say so.” 

Turning at the sound of the door, Sam walks in with a duffel bag in hand “Hey, so I didn’t-” he stops in his tracks when he spots Lucifer “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked before looking at you and Dean. 

Lucifer shrugged “Bored.” he said plainly before looking back at you and Dean “But it’s better that I’m here right? Rather than you having no idea where I am or what I’m up too.” he repeated Dean’s own words back to him with a slight smirk on his face.

Sam let out an annoyed sigh before walking to the table and putting down the duffel bag “Anyways, what I was saying was that I didn’t find any trace of the witches in town, so they must be hiding out outside of town. If we can figure out where then we can get them by surprise.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that one Sammy.” Lucifer said as he peaked out the curtained window. 

“Yeah, and why’s that?” Sam asked with disdain. 

“Because I’m pretty sure they already know you’re here.” He said as he straightened up, just as the door blasted in making you all jump and fall into a defensive stance.

You reached for the knife in your belt, leaving your hand on it in preparation as you watched three older women and a man walk into the room. They must have followed Sam back here. Lucifer slowly rounded the side of the room until he was on the same side as you. You stared at him in confusion as he stepped in front of you, getting in your way. 

“Well well, to what do we owe the honor of having the Winchesters in our humble little town?” One of the women asked, a scornful look on her face before she looked at Lucifer and then saw you behind him “And I don’t believe I know either of you.” 

Lucifer took a step forward “What a shame, and here I thought I was famous.” he said with a sarcastic tone in his voice “Lucifer, nice to meet you.”

The witches looked at each other before smiling “Yeah right” one of the younger witches said with a scoff “As if Lucifer would be with the Winchesters.” 

Lucifer shrugged “We’re working on our problems” he looked back at Sam. “Right Sammy?” Sam clenched his jaw in annoyance before looking back at the witches. 

“Then you’re a traitor” one of the witches said with anger before he raised his hand, shooting out a fire ball at Lucifer and you. 

Lucifer quickly reached his arm back grabbing and pushing you out of the way before he lunged towards the witch, gripping him on the shoulder and staring into his eyes “Well that was dramatic. And quite stupid honestly.” 

You watched as the witch began to crumple to the ground as his skin began to burn, landing on the floor lifeless. You were surprised by this, having thought Lucifer lost most of his stronger powers. 

One of the other witches yelled in anger, gaining your attention once again. You and Dean lunged forward and attacked the other witches with your iron blades. Sam took out his gun and fired his gun at one of the witches, killing them immediately. 

As you stabbed one of the witches she screamed before using her magic to throw you across the room. As you hit the wall you watched as Lucifer grabbed her, killing her as well before turning and watching as Dean struggled to kill the last witch. Rolling your eyes as he did nothing, you ran forward past him before stabbing the witch in the back and killing her before she hexed Dean. 

Panting and trying to ignore the pain from having been thrown so hard you looked back at Lucifer “Since when did you get your powers back?” 

He shrugged “Not long. Besides, I don’t have all of them back, just some.” He saw Dean and Sam glaring at him so he raised his hands up “Don’t worry, I have no intention of using them on you.” You looked back at Sam and Dean before Lucifer spoke again “Well. This was fun. But I’m bored again, so...see ya” 

You turned back to him just as he vanished. You sighed, wondering where he went, and what trouble he was going to get himself into. Hoping that he wouldn’t return to his old ways. 

- - -

**Two Weeks Later**

Currently you were on another case, some strange attacks had been happening that seemed supernatural so you were checking it out. You got a lead on a possible suspect. A man picking up people at a bar, 7 out of 10 of those people had been found dead or missing. 

Catching the mans eye you smiled at him, trying to lure him in. Turning away from him, you waiting, staring down into your drink. Feeling a presence behind you as someone sat down, you glanced up, almost choking as your eyes met a familiar pair of blue ones. 

Straightening up, you glanced back, seeing the man you were here for was now gone. Mentally cursing you glared at the man in front of you before whispering angrily at him “Lucifer, what the hell are you doing here?” 

His eyes widened slightly as he was taken aback by your aggression “Woah, can’t a guy check in every now and again?” 

You sighed “Not when I’m on a case” you said as you looked back into the bar, trying to find the man you had been tracking again “Damn it.” You muttered. 

Lucifer followed your gaze before leaning in “Did I interrupt something?” 

You rolled your eyes “Yes, now stay” you said pointing at him as you rose from your seat, walking towards the back door. Aware of his eyes watching you as you left. 

Taking a few steps outside, you looked around the parking lot, checking to make sure the mans car was still outside. You felt a pang of relief when you saw it was still there. 

“Hey there.”

You spun around at the voice, meeting the eyes of the same man from before. “Oh, hello” you said with a smile, trying to sound casual. 

“Just wanted to check if you were alright.” The man got a little closer, somewhat circling you as he continued “I was gonna come say hello, but that guy came up to you. Honestly you seemed kind of pissed about it.” 

“Saw that did you?” you asked “My ex.” you said with a hint of annoyance in your voice, doing your best to play dumb. 

“I had a feeling” he smiled at you before taking a step closer. “Wanna go somewhere else? Get away from him?” 

Just as you opened you mouth to speak you were cut off by another voice “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

The guy turned to the voice, as your eyes landed on Lucifer “Who-” the man before before Lucifer leaned back and punched the man in the face, effectively knocking him out. 

“What th- Lucifer!” you yelled as you stared down at the unconscious man. 

“What?” he asked defensively “That was the guy you were after right?” 

“Yeah, but I needed him to take me!”

Lucifer hesitated “I’m sorry? You- Needed him to take you? You were trying to get kidnapped?” He asked incredulously. 

“Yes!” you yelled before looking back, hearing someone running towards you. Sam and Dean came running from their hideout spot “Dude! What the hell, what are you even doing here?!”

“Well, I assumed I was helping.” Lucifer said, nearly pouting. 

You sighed as you looked at him before speaking to Sam and Dean “I think he thought I was in trouble.” you turned back to Lucifer “You were trying to help me.” He shrugged in response “Why?” you asked. 

He remained silent for a moment “Why not?” 

In the blink of an eye he had vanished, leaving you standing there. You rose your arms up in bewilderment before looking back at Sam and Dean with an annoyed sigh. 

- - -

*One Week Later*

You winced in pain as you continued to run as fast as you could, looking back to check if the wendigo was still coming after you. When you showed up on the case, everything pointed to werewolves, but man were you wrong.

When you got to the hunting sight, and heard a mimicked voice of Sam, who you knew was no where near you. You got suspicious and began heading back to the car. Not long later the Wendigo attacked you, cutting open your side with it’s claws. You managed to make it back off after shooting it in the head. But you needed fire. 

As you now ran as fast as you could back to where you had split off from Sam and Dean. You could hear the monster roaring from somewhere behind you. 

Knowing you couldn’t outrun the wendigo with your injury you desperately called out in your mind ‘Cas!’ you thought in your mind, hoping he could hear you, but having no idea where he was. “Come on!” you muttered desperately, before another thought crossed your mind ‘Okay, Lucifer!’ you called out to him in your mind ‘Since you keep trying to save me, now would be the best time to do it!” you practically yelled out just as you heard the wendigo shriek, the noise shaking through you as you could hear it land right behind you. 

Suddenly lunging to the side, you saw as the wendigos clawed hand swiped where you had just been. Loosing your footing you tumbled down a small hill, rolling. As you tried to stand back up, the wendigo landed right in front of you, swiping at you, knocking you back a few feet as you slammed into a tree. 

You’re vision was spotty as you stared up at the creature as it began to approach you. As it rose it’s hand in the air, ready for it’s final attack. You flinched when you saw a bright light shine from behind it. 

The wendigo shrieked as it arched back, the light engulfing it’s body and turning into flames. You pushed yourself away as the wendigo’s body fell forward onto the ground, dead.

Looking up, you see Lucifer standing in front of you, looking down at the monster, his eyes fading from their Angelic glow. His gaze moved from the monster to you as he now saw just how close he was to having been too late. He saw your clothes now soaked in blood as you struggled to sit up. 

He moved over to you and crouched down “I didn’t know if you heard me.” You mumbled, as you grew weaker. 

Lucifer gingerly reached towards your wound before briefly meeting your eyes "Of course I heard you.” You winced as he placed his hand on your stomach, a light emitting from it as you felt the warmth fill your body, being replaced by strength. 

After a moment he removed his hand, you looked down, seeing your deep wound now simply a fading mark. You looked up and met his eyes as he stared deeply into your own “Thank you.” you muttered, feeling an uneasy shyness take over. 

“Y/n!” You heard familiar voices shouting through the trees as Sam and Dean slowly appeared, running towards you. As they got to you, they saw the dead wendigo and Lucifer. 

“What the hell happened?” Sam asked as he ran over to you and helped you up, seeing the blood remnant on your shirt. 

You looked between Sam and Dean and then the wendigo “The wendigo was chasing me, I was already injured and knew I couldn’t take it alone. I tried to call out to Cas but he didn’t come, so...” you looked over at Lucifer “I called out to Lucifer, and he showed up just in time to save me.” 

Sam looked over at Lucifer and silently nodded his head, a form of thanks, as Dean checked the wendigo “Damn. How the hell did we not think wendigo?” 

“They seemed too much like werewolf attacks.” Sam said as Lucifer seemed to catch on to what had happened. 

“Lets get back to the hotel, head back in the morning.” Dean said as he stood. 

You leaned against the tree, still feeling tired as Sam set his hand on your shoulder to steady you. Lucifer continued to watch you as you wiped some blood from your face, revealing a small cut along your cheek. 

Lucifer suddenly walked up to you, making you straighten up. Placing his hand on your shoulder you opened your mouth to question him but stopped when you felt an unusual feeling wash over as you nearly fell over, the tree you had been leaning on now gone as you stood in the middle of the bunker. 

Lucifer placed his hands on either side of your shoulder to steady you as you looked around. “What, why did you bring me here?” 

“Would you have rather sat in a dingy hotel room with them before driving all the way back here in your condition? I know I healed your main wound, but I don’t have enough power to heal everything, I can tell how unsteady you are.” 

As he spoke, you took out your phone and texted Sam to tell him where you were, before looking back up and meeting his eyes as he kept his hand on your shoulders. You saw his eyes flick to the cut on your face. 

Pulling away from him you walked slowly to the kitchen, getting a damp rag and using it wipe off your face. Leaning against the counter, you looked at Lucifer who was still looking at you. 

“Why do you keep helping me?” you asked.

He remained silent and emotionless for a moment before he walked into the kitchen, leaning against the counter across from you, meeting your eyes again. “Do you not want me to?” he asked. 

“That’s not what I’m getting at.” you began “You keep showing up at random times, saving me, helping me, being protective and I just want to know why. A few years ago we were enemies. We tried to kill each other multiple times. And now what, we’re cool? You’re just going to keep saving me?” 

He continued to stare at you before looking down at his hands, thinking to himself. “I always had a soft spot for you.” He looked back up now “You’re stronger than most humans, different. Not as annoying or helpless. I find it... frustrating. I hate humans. But you...I can’t seem to. ” 

You were slightly taken aback by his clear honesty “I never understood why you hate humanity. I mean, there is a lot to hate in humans definitely, but overall people are good. I don’t get why you can’t see that.” 

He let out a dry chuckle “I see that goodness in you, but not in others. Other humans are not good. They are selfish and childish.”

You tilted your head and stared at him. Smiling lightly he did the same, mirroring you. You felt your lips tug slightly before you stood up, tossing the rag into the sink “I still don’t understand how I’m different from other humans.” you said simply as you walked out of the kitchen. 

Lucifer reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you. Turning back to him you were startled when he brought his face close to yours as he stared down at you “You are entirely different. And...I’m frustrated because I can’t quite put my feelings into words. I’ve never felt this....especially not for a human.” 

You swallowed, trying to steady your heavy beating heart “I can’t change that I am human. But you can change what you think of humans. It’s not bad to change your point of view Lucifer.” 

A soft smile tugged at his lips “Perhaps. But maybe I only want to like one human, and tolerate others.”

“So that feeling you can’t put into words is that you like me, and you hate it?”

He brought his hand to your face, rubbing his thumb across the small cut along your cheek. Feeling a warmth come from his hand as your face tingled, you figured he had healed the small cut. “No.” You met his eyes again as he stared into your own “The feelings I can’t put into words is love.” 

Your eyes widened slightly at his confession, you really had not expected Lucifer of all people to say that he felt love for a human, love for you, one of the ones who helped damn him back to the cage. 

He saw the uncertainty in your eyes and understood it. How could you believe him. After all that you, he, and the Winchesters had been through. How could you believe it wasn’t a trick? 

Bringing his other hand to your face, he brought his lips to your forehead in a kiss before looking back into your eyes. “There is no such thing as redemption for the Devil. But falling in love with you gives me hope that I can be good enough to be loved in return.” He leaned down and brought his mouth close to your ear “Know, that I will always come when you call.” 

Feeling a rush of air, you stared at the now empty space in front of you. Looking around at the now empty bunker, you struggled to keep calm, his words repeating in your mind. Did the Devil really love you? Or was it a trick? And why did you desperately not want it to be. 

xx End xx

I hope you liked it, let me know if you did, or even if you want another part???

Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed~

[hermannsthumb]

Maria. *Grabs your face* MARIA. I would LOVE to see 15 bobbing for apples from the autumn fic meme written by you. Nothing would delight me more!

Anonymous asked: Halloween prompt #15 please!!... "Bobbing for apples but we meet accidentally underwater lady and the tramp style." OR "I thought we'd have fun bobbing for apples but you actually hate it and are really mad now"

15. Bobbing For Apples

from autumn fic prompts here

KATE ❤️__ ❤️for you id write anything... and anon the lady and the tramp scenario is so fucking funny/good

---------------------------

It’s a really good thing that Hermann has Newt, because if Newt’s being honest, he has no damn clue what the poor dude would do without him. Work himself to death, probably. Or spend every Saturday night alone in his bunk. So depressing. Newt considers it his big charitable act of—well, of all time—to force Hermann into social functions, whether it's fun nights out at the bar (with Newt!), or down the hall a few feet for awesome movie marathons in Newt’s quarters (with Newt!), or something like tonight, which is a super awesome and fun Halloween party that, like, everyone on the base was invited to (including Newt!).

Hermann was all set to spend another night alone (probably changing the batteries in all his calculators or rearranging the hangers in his closet) when Newt dragged him out, more or less by the collar of his argyle sweater, with multiple threats to make his life a living hell the following week in the lab if he didn't comply immediately. "Seriously, dude," Newt had said, ominously, while Hermann looked at him like a furious cat ready to take a swipe, "you're gonna put in those vampire fangs and get drunk with me, or you're gonna regret it. I mean it." Newt was not opposed to blasting the shittiest depths of his Spotify account over his bluetooth speakers or using Hermann's favorite coffee mug to hold his dissection tools. Luckily for both of them, Hermann decided the risk wasn't worth it.

Newt knows Hermann is bound to recognize how selfless Newt is being and thank him for it eventually. Probably. Maybe a few years from now. For now, Newt is enjoying the warm and fuzzy feeling of having done a good deed, and also of drinking a considerable amount of spiked punch.

Hermann is not enjoying either.

"I did, in fact, have plans for tonight," he tells Newt, sipping his ginger ale and observing Newt with a fierce scowl. He flat-out refused the booze Newt tried to push on him. It's fine, whatever—it's enough for Newt, right now anyway, that he actually came. They'll work up to bigger stuff like that later.

"Like what?" Newt says. "Doing a crossword puzzle and watching the second half of that boring-ass documentary you put on last weekend?"

Newt considers it an affront to the very concept of movie nights that Hermann used his pick on a documentary, and one about the jaeger program that didn't even bother interviewing him, no less. Newt loves a good documentary, don't get him wrong, but movie nights are for escapist shit. You don't see him switching on Godzilla. Plus, having to watch stock footage of Dr. Gottlieb Sr. blabbing his mouth about how smart he was while you were debating making a move on his son (who was currently in you bed, looking super cute in your sweatpants, because he'd forgotten to pack pj's) was kind of a mood-killer. "It wasn't boring," Hermann sniffs, which tells Newt that his guess was dead-on. "It was...interesting. And anyway, just because they aren't your idea of plans..."

"Okay, whatever," Newt says. "Let's just have fun. That's the point of a party."

He throws an arm around Hermann's shoulder and drags him closer, until their heads knock together painfully. He hears Hermann growl low in his throat. Newt doesn't say, soon, we won't have the time to do stupid shit like this anymore, so we should enjoy it while we can, even though he wants to. It's better to not make fun stuff depressing. Plus, Hermann might decide to take that as an invitation to bail and put on his documentary. Instead he reaches up across Hermann and flicks his chin. Hermann's whole body stiffens. "I can't believe I got you into this super awesome party and you're not even pretending to be thankful," Newt says.

With no great deal of difficulty, Hermann pushes Newt off of him. Newt lands heavily back in his chair, making the whole thing wobble, and he laughs as he just manages to catch himself from falling off the other side. "You got me in?" Hermann says. "Newton, I was invited three weeks ago."

Newt stops laughing. "You were?"

"Yes," Hermann says. The corner of his lip twitches up, with a smugness so powerful Newt can feel it radiating off of him in waves. Bastard. "I took it upon myself to ask if you might be permitted to come, too." He adds, sarcastically, "Out of the kindness of my heart. I know how terribly put out you get when you aren't included in these sorts of things."

Newt considers this new information, and then discards it, because it really doesn't fit the image of himself he's been cultivating as the cool, hip friend to Hermann's uncool, unhip nerd. Like, come on, between the two of them, Newt is obviously the one you'd want at your party. Hermann's gotta be kidding. Probably. Maybe. "It's a lame party anyway," Newt mumbles.

He tries to put his arm around Hermann's shoulder again, remembers that Hermann really didn't like that the first time, and then drops it back down at his side instead. "Totally lame," he continues. Newt recalls the Halloween parties of his youth with a warm, fond glow: elaborate costumes, tacky decorations, passing around bowls of peeled grapes in the dark, carving jack-o-lanterns while his dad hovered protectively over him to make sure he didn't take a finger off with the knife. This is none of that. Barely anyone even dressed up! The lack of Halloween spirit is tragic. "There aren't even any party games."

"Yes there are," Hermann says, mildly.

He points across the room at a large metal tub that Newt somehow missed before. It looks like it's filled with water, and...

"Dude," Newt says.

He doesn't wait to ask before he's hopping to his feet and dragging Hermann along after him by his blazer cuff. Hermann swats at his heels a few times with his cane, but eventually—like he does with most of Newt's ideas—gives in. "I'm a fuckin' champ at bobbing for apples," Newt boasts. "I used to—oops, excuse me," (he runs into two guys who are, like, twice his height, upsetting their drinks, and he hears Hermann groan as something purple spills on his sweater), "I used to always win it at the fall fest when my dad would take me." And then when he went back as an adult by himself, but it was less impressive a win when you were up against a bunch of ten-year-olds.

"You do have an exceptionally large mouth," Hermann says, rubbing at his stained shoulder. "I suppose that helps." As Newt bends to investigate the iron tub, he says, "Oh, Newton, don't, it's been out all night. Who knows what sorts of germs are in there?"

Newt gets to his knees and rolls up the sleeves of his PPDC-issued labcoat. He's a mad scientist to Hermann's vampire (vampire librarian?) tonight. Yeah, it's kind of a lazy costume, but it was free—he already had everything he needed in the lab. "I can get it in five seconds, max," he declares. His record is one second, but he's the first to admit he's a little rusty, and he'd rather impress Hermann by beating his estimate. "Will you hold my headlamp?"

Grumbling, Hermann takes it. Newt sets his glasses on the ground. "You're going to get yourself bloody soaking," Hermann says, and then he complains about something else, too, but Newt is screwing his eyes shut and ducking his head into the tub, which makes it difficult to hear him. One second—two seconds—two and a half—Newt emerges victorious from the tub, teeth clenched down firmly on an apple, and accidentally splatters a large amount of water on Hermann's shoes. He pulls the apple out of his mouth with a grin and waves it at Hermann. "See. I'm a fucking pro."

He tucks his glasses back on his face to discover that Hermann is staring at him with a very strange expression on his face. Newt can't decide if it's the blacklight bulbs overhead that are washing him out and making him look so flushed, or something else entirely. Then, in a second, he's grumpy and scowling and tsking over his wet shoes. "A pro," he echoes. "Hardly. It can't be that complicated."

Newt gestures grandly at the tub and takes a bite out of his apple. Hermann can always be relied upon to never turn down a challenge, especially when it means making Newt look—potentially—stupid. Newt uses it to his advantage often. Whatever it takes to help the guy have a good time. "It's all yours, dude."

Hermann grumbles something again about Newt being too arrogant for his own good, and something else about showing Newt how to do it without making a mess of everything, then gets down to his knees with a quiet hiss of discomfort. He shoves his cane, and Newt's headlamp, at Newt, though bewilderingly leaves his blazer on. "I'll be just a moment," he says, and dunks his head into the tub.

He splashes back up no more than five seconds later. Apple-less. "Bugger," he coughs, and then coughs some more. The entire front of his sweater is soaked. "I didn't—I didn't start out right. Let me—"

Newt watches Hermann try to drown himself a few more times in mild interest before he finally intercedes. "Need a hand?" he says, getting to his knees next to Hermann.

"No," Hermann splutters.

Newt takes his glasses off again. "Yeah, you do. Okay, now watch me—"

He emerges with another apple in seconds.

Hermann grits his teeth. "Newton—"

"One more?" Newt says, his grin widening.

Back under. Another apple. He winks at Hermann when he goes in for a fourth time, and this time, he feels the water of the tank being upset as Hermann (refusing to be outdone once again) splashes in alongside him. God, Newt loves riling Hermann up like this—he gets so funny, and kinda cute, when he's mad about something. Red in the face, and scowling, and sometimes (when he's real mad) speaking in a dangerously low and rough sort of voice with his r's rolling that makes Newt shiver, just a little. Like, Newton, you worthless, pathetic little man, cease this immediately, or else I'll... He actually said that to Newt once. It made Newt feel a little warm under his collar. Hermann's probably going to say something similar to him this time, and Newt can't wait.

Ten seconds in. Newt has been cutting Hermann a little slack at first, just to see if he can catch up, but finally decides to just go for the apple that's been bobbing steadily against his mouth this whole time. (He loves beating Hermann at stuff.)

And, well, apparently Hermann goes for it too.

They both miss the apple. Newt's mouth is up against Hermann's for another five seconds before he realizes what's happening (that that is definitely not an apple, that that is definitely a mouth, that that mouth is wide and weird another to belong to only one person Newt knows, that that mouth is parting in surprise, oh my God) and then he pulls away so quickly that he breathes in what feels like half the tub of water. He falls back on his ass, coughing furiously, and it's not until he shoves his glasses back on with a shaking hand that he realizes that Hermann has done the same. "I," Hermann says. His eyes are wide. "I'm sor—"

"It's fine," Newt squeaks.

"It was—"

"I know!"

Newt and Hermann's mouths were touching for five whole seconds. Underwater, while apples bobbed against their foreheads, but their mouths still touched. Oh my God. In elementary school, Newt thinks dizzily, that would be enough to catch cooties. This was so not how he wanted his awesome eventual seduction of Hermann to go down. For one thing, it wasn't even a seduction.

"I'm gonna get a towel," Newt says.

Hermann nods. He looks strangely adorable with water droplets on his nose and his hair plastered to his head like that. Newt has to get out of here before he does something stupid, like take Hermann's pointy cheeks between his hands and put their mouths together on purpose. He doesn't think Hermann would respond to that very well right now.

"I'll get you one too," Newt says, and it takes a lot of effort to force himself to his feet.

Hermann nods again.

"Okay," Newt says, and stumbles away. Out of the corner of his eye, he just catches Hermann raising a hand to his mouth.

[ren-therose]

You Are Like Me (Pt. 1 of "Winter's End)

Roommate!Bucky X F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky begin rooming together after Sam discovers your background and suggests you live with him. . As another failed HYDRA experiment with an enhanced skill set, Sam decides that you, the newest recruit who shares a similar path with the Winter Soldier would benefit from living together.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Cursing, semi-spoilers for FATWS (but nothing plot related, just set during that time).

A/N: This started out as a one-shot for our man Bucky Barnes, but now there will be multiple pieces with this as the wonderful starting piece to the story. I don't know how much the parts will be reliant on a plot, but it will all be based on the same love story throughout. The parts don't necessarily need to be read all together and in order. There will be a variety with this couple, varying from angst to smut, fluffy fluffy FLUFFY shit, and some very depressing stuff too. I hope that these different pieces fulfill all your Bucky needs and help you feel like you really have a developed and copasetic relationship with this lovely gentleman.

"Jesus, who the hell are you?"

I had been laying on a neatly made bed in the apartment Sam had signed me up for. I was staring at the ceiling mindlessly as an old record player spun, emitting the scratchy tones of classic 1940s music. In my hand was a small journal, opened to a blank page towards the middle of the book. My eyes shot open, my hand grabbing a knife from the back of my pants as I launched myself off the bed and towards the unfamiliar man in the doorway.

Before the knife could reach his throat, cool metal met my wrist, stopping my arm in its track. I was practically on top of the dark man in front of me, staring up into his bright cerulean orbs. He seemed almost amused by this first introduction. Almost. The glimmer of humor left his eyes as soon as my knee made contact with his groin, causing him to keel over, as I maneuvered around him to be behind, using his arms hold on me to choke himself.

"I could ask you the same question, blue eyes," I said with a snort. I realized quickly he wasn't an enemy, but the continued power struggle was fun enough to let it play out. Before I could plan my next move though, I was flipped over his broad shoulders, and square on my back, the impact knocking the wind out of me. I looked up through my lashes, trying to focus my eyesight as the splitting headache blurred my vision. Standing above me, the man let out a soft chuckle as he stepped over me, making his way over to the bed and sitting on the edge. I slowly lifted my head, still dizzy from the landing, as his eyes followed the outline of my body.

I was still in my training clothes, too tired to have changed out of the tight tank top and cargo pants. I had been perfecting my combat technique so that I could fend for myself, but it seems I was not yet ready to fight whoever the stranger in my room was.

"Here," he started, getting up from his place and reaching his right hand out to me. I stared at it for a moment, not sure if I should give in or not, though I could tell I would have to. I placed my hand in his, surprised by the contrasting warmth I felt compared to the hand he had caught my wrist in. He quickly pulled me up, causing me to launch into his chest, my left arm quickly wrapping around his bicep to steady myself.

"You can feel me up later doll, but can you explain what the hell you are doing in my room?" He taunted.

I realized that his colder hand was on the small of my back and I leaned back into grasp as I sneered "I could say the same for you..." I noticed the outline of dog tags imprinted underneath his shirt, glancing back up into his eyes with a wink, "Sarge".

He let go, allowing me the chance to step back and start searching for my knife. I could feel his eyes on me, questions waiting to be asked.

"You are Seragnet Barnes, correct?" I mused, grabbing my weapon from the corner and twirling it in my hand before replacing it in its holster. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile at my maneuver, but quickly looked down and cleared his throat before replying.

"Yes ma'am. And I apologize for not knowing your name, as well as for throwing you," he grunted. It was suddenly a very formal manner in which he spoke. My eyebrow quirked up, as I spun on my heels and made my way into the kitchen, hearing heavy footsteps follow in time.

"Y/N".

"And what are you doing in my room, Y/N?" he said inquisitively. I was now the freezer for an ice pack, finding a floppy blue one in the back.

"I guess, I'm your roommate," I shrugged, putting the ice pack to the back of my head as I moved towards the bathroom.

"Wait, Sam told me I was meeting someone named "Y/L/N", they were gonna stay here for a bit," he retorted, once again following behind.

"That is my last name Blue Eyes. Need an ID or something?" I called over my shoulder, turning the corner to enter the bathroom, reaching towards the medicine cabinet.

"That still doesn't explain why you were on my bed," he scoffed, leaning against the door frame as I scavenged through the drawers.

"I didn't think anyone was living here. I was told I'd have a roommate, but I didn't think anyone had moved in yet. You have, like, no shit here. It looks like a hotel room," I critique, standing up with a shake of the bottle in my hand.

"I'm using your Ibuprofen" I say with mock respect. I move past him as I saunter back towards the kitchen. He can't help but laugh at this bizarre encounter and that I am truly not making this easy for him.

"You have a lot of sass for someone who just had their ass beat," he jeers, leaning forward on the counter between us.

All I could do was smile and shake my head, throwing the pills into my mouth and taking a swig of water.

"So, Y/L/N, why do you figure we Sam is rooming us together?"

"Love match?" I joke, placing the now empty cup in the sink and walking over to his side, leaning my back against the countertop.

He snorts, amused by my sarcasm once more. "Maybe, but I have a feeling it goes deeper," he says, turning to rest his side on the counter as he looks me over, clearly searching for something.

"You aren't gonna find any metal attached to me, Barnes," I report, turning to brace myself against the counter. "They messed me up in here." I gesture to forehead, softly tapping to get my point across.

His face falls as he realizes what I mean.

"HYDRA..." was all he could make out.

"They weren't just trying to make soldiers. They were trying to make spies. Hyper intelligent ones that can be manipulated without the risk of losing control or access, like a computer could. I am their failed experiment," I say softly. I chuck the ice pack into the sink, and make my way over to the window, rubbing at the back of my head.

"You have super soldier serum. I have an acute memory and the ability to calculate probable outcomes and human error. I remember..." I turn back to look him in the eye, "everything".

His mouth slightly gapes as he looks me over. "I was a lethal weapon when placed in sensitive situations. If I knew the possible endings of different scenarios, I could pick which one could happen."

He steps towards me, as if he was considering whether to comfort me. Before he could though, I straightened up and tried to scurry past him.

"I am so sorry for invading your space, I'll take my stuff out of your room. I can stay on the couch until-" The Winter Soldier cut me off, grabbing my arm before I could make it into the room.

"No, take the bed, please," he began. "I don't sleep in it anyways. Too comfy."

My eyes go from the grip on my arm up to his eyes, staring down at me, but with concern. I softened my face, providing a half smile as I nodded my head.

"Okay, Sarge. Let's eat though- I'm starving. You order the pizza while I take a shower. Then we can talk."

He let me go, looking down into my eyes, "I think I know your favorite kind."

I raised a brow at this bet, curious to see if he was right. "Alright...we will see..."

I turned and made my way towards the bathroom, looking back to see him still watching.

---

Shit, I don't have my clothes.

I was dripping from the shower still and my hair was very haphazardly put in a bun to keep the water from dripping. I quietly opened the door and peeked my head out, searching for my new roommate. When I had determined the coast was clear, I scurried into the room, shutting the door behind me quietly. When I turned around, I shrieked to see James exiting my closet, a few shirts in hand.

"What the fuck Barnes!!" I choke, desperately clutching my towel, as I had almost lost my grip. He dropped the shirts to the ground, slapping his hand over his eyes in case I did lose my covering.

"Damn, Y/L/N, let me buy you dinner first!" He laughs, trying to make his way to the door.

"Oh you are SO paying for the pizza now Barnes," I fume, adjusting my towel and making my way to the other side of the bed where my bag was.

"So you're saying I can look?"

"You just scared me, I'm decent you prick". I kneeled down beside the bed, opening my bag to see that all of my clothes were missing.

"Are you. fucking. SHITTING ME?" I curse, banging my already sore head onto the side of the bed.

"What did I do this time," the soldier groans.

"No, it's not you, it's just that...well shit. My clothes are missing."

"Oh yeah. I threw them in the wash for you. You weren't carrying a lot, and it's a force of habit from the old days, I thought they would be done by now but-"

"Sergeant?" I interrupt, seething with rage and a tinge of embarrassment.

"Y/L/N?"

"I don't have any clothes," I hiss.

"oh." he says shortly. I press my face into the bed, trying not to scream bloody murder. Suddenly, I feel two soft things land on me, causing me to turn my face to the side.

"Sweats and a shirt. Don't do anything weird," he quipped, leaving me in the room alone.

I look down at the black sweats and navy blue shirt. It was soft, and smelled of fabric softener and pine. I looked up at the empty hallway as I heard the front door open and shut behind him as he went to get the pizza.

I slipped on the clothes and looked myself over in the mirror. I decided to let my hair down to air dry, and the rest of me looked swallowed in his clothes. His sweats were pulled tightly around my hips, exposing my stomach when I stood. The shirt would probably be form fitting on him, but it just barely gave me a shape, though my chest clung to the fabric. I didn't know what this meant, but whatever it was felt nice.

---

"I got the pizza, and Sam already confirmed I was right about it being your favorite so..." James trailed off as he saw me standing in the kitchen, leaning over a brochure of sorts. I looked up to see him holding pizza in one hand and soda in the other as his eyes widened at my get up.

"No snappy remark, blue eyes? Wow, they just keep getting wide-" he cut me off by throwing the box down in front of me.

"Movie?" he muttered, quickly making his way past towards the living room.

"uh...okay. Can we watch 'Casablanca'?"

He turned around, looking at me with confusion.

"You know that movie? That was made almost 80 years ago."

"I'm a sucker for the classics, James," I say, grabbing the pizza and soda of the counter and bringing it to the coffee table.

"Bucky, please. We're gonna be living together and already saw you half-naked," he chides, sitting down on the couch and flipping it on with the remote.

"Okay, Bucky, do you remember the plot?" I probe, sitting myself next to him as I placed two glasses in front of us. I pulled my legs up to cross and adjusted the waist of my pants to sit above my stomach more comfortably. He was leaning back into the sofa, as I was turned to face him, waiting patiently for a response.

"I mean, I remember looking back on it and how terribly it depicted the war. It was not easy to find love abroad," he stated, reaching to grab a slice of pizza.

"Were you looking for love?"

"I was looking for fun. I was pretty sure I was gonna die, or at least not make it back. I was kind of right," he finished, biting into the slice.

"Yeah, not a lot of love in present day HYDRA safe-houses either. Not that I had time for it between missions, I say, leaning over to pour the drinks.

"Well what were you before...them?"

"A history student, if you can believe it. Wanted to study abroad and learn about wars, apply it to algorithms to prevent them. Seems like the common denominator was always men," I reply with a wink.

"I can't say you are wrong. But I am impressed. And now..."

"Now, I'm protected by the Avengers, er- what's left of them, and am able to use my skills for good. All of that history knowledge, everything I have ever learned and forgotten about, I can remember it all". I looked him up and down. "I didn't recognize you without the long hair and this stubble thing kinda threw me off, it's not the same as the pictures in the museum".

He adjusted his angle to better face me, curiosity etched across his features. "You really are something," he contended. The comment caused me to pull back, shocked by his honesty.

"I...uh..." I stammer, unsure of how to proceed.

"If you're going to say thank you, don't bother. It's just a fact," he noted, once more causing me to fall to silence.

He started looking up the movie, struggling with the technology of the remote.

As I studied him, the tension in his jaw, the stress he carries in his eyes, I realized I shared similar features.

"ты как я," I whisper under my breath, unsure if he even heard me.

You are like me.

I knew when he straightened up, and slowly looked in my direction.

"я знаю," he replied.

I know.

I reached my hand out to his arm, resting it on gently.

"What does this mean?" I asked softly.

"I'm not quite sure."

------

The next morning, I awoke to the smell of deep roast coffee.

Bucky and I had spent almost the entire night talking. We skimmed around the dark parts of our past, knowing that there would be time for that, but instead got to know the things that really shaped who we are today.

He really enjoyed his time in Wakanda. It was incredibly healing for him, and allowed him a chance to find piece, something we ex-soldiers and spies rarely could get. He told me about his life in the 40s, or what he could remember. A lot of his memories has been formed with the help of Steve, which I knew caused him pain. But he also found happiness in retelling those stories, knowing that someone else will see him as more than the Winter Soldier.

I shared my experience abroad. I had been all across the USA, in Canada, both Iceland and Greenland, Poland, France, Italy, Turkey, London, and of course Sokovia. It was were I had been taken during my travels. I had never told anyone about this before, but I had felt so comforted knowing that he had been through something so similar.

I don't know when, but at some point in the night, I had ended up falling asleep propped up on the couch. When I woke up in my bed the next morning, I realized it must have been him. I looked down to see I was still wearing his shirt, and smiled to myself. When I got up, I found his sweats on the floor, knowing I probably kicked them off when I got into bed. I stepped back into them, pulling them up around my legs and tying them once more on my hips. I looked in the mirror, my hair limp and flat from sleep. Checking my phone, I walked out, scratching my head and rubbing my face, yawning as the coffee smell grew stronger.

"доброе утро," he greets me, smirking at the confused face I made.

"No Russian. Too early. Try again later," I mumbled, jumping up to sit on the counter. He held up the sugar, shaking it in my face.

"Two to three teaspoons please," I groan, pushing the container out of my face.

"Someone likes it sweet," he laughs, dumping in my unhealthy request.

"And creamer, if you have some," I added, smiling as he turned towards the fridge.

"Did you know you speak Russian in your sleep?"

"I bet you do the same. All HYDRA escapees probably," I mutter, taking the mug from his hands.

"Well, you will have to let me know sometime," he chides, taking a sip of his own black coffee.

"Last night was...."

"Traumatizing?"

"Yeah, but maybe healing too?"

"Good," he exclaims, walking over to the couch. He sits down, swiping his phone off the charger next to him.

"Before you have to go, do you want some breakfast?" I offer, scanning his response to my inquiry.

"Is that your power thing? You knew they would ask me to work today?" He questions, looking down at the phone and then back at me.

"It's a skill, not a power. I'm not a superhero," I laugh, getting out the contents for a breakfast sandwich.

"Yes, I would like one. But you already knew that didn't you?"

"No skills required. Tony texted me this morning too. We are training together."

He smiled. He almost looked excited.

"I'm gonna beat your ass again Y/L/N".

"You wish".

-----------------------------------------------------

Every day, we played out the same routine.

I would wake up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. I'd come out, thank him and proceed to make us breakfast. We would then go to combat training for a few hours. When he wasn't helping me, he was working on his own workout routine; often, he would put aside time to just focus on improving my knife skills. He would always joked that I showed promise after out first encounter, and then would promptly beat my ass in a knife fight.

After training, it would be time to meet Sam for lunch, chat about our personal lives (which were rarely separated from our work), as well as current issues in the Avengers, and the world.

Bucky always stayed close by when we were out and about, glancing over to make sure I was okay. I would signal back that it was okay, smiling as a way of thanks when I noticed him checking. The only time we went our separate ways for our "rehab plans" we called jokingly. He would go see his therapist while I went and saw mine. Then, he would meet Sam for a bit by himself, while I went back to our place and did paperwork. When he came home, we would decide on dinner and a movie, but would probably stay up the whole night talking and leaving the movie with at least 20 minutes to go (on a good night).

One night, after I had "magically" ended up in bed, I woke up to Bucky shaking me, yelling my name.

"Y/N! Y/N, it's me, it's Bucky! Come on Y/N, wake up!"

I was drenched in sweat and my voice felt coarse and raw. My heart was beating at an impossible rate, as I shot up to hold on to him.

"Y/N, it's okay, you're okay," he said, trying to calm me down as he pushed my wet hair off of my face. I was gripping his arms, trying my best to ground myself. My eyes were bloodshot and wet, as tears and sweat mixed down my face. His blue eyes were frantically searching me, making sure that I was okay.

"It was them Bucky, they were here, they were gonna hurt you, I couldn't move, they said the, they said the words Bucky, jesus I was gonna lose you Buck, I couldn't, I can't..." I trailed off, starting to hyperventilate as I buried my face in his chest, allowing him to pull me closer.

He held me against him, shushing me as he ran his hand through the back of my hair. His chin rested atop my head as I regained control of my breathing. As my heart rate lowered and the sound of blood rushing through my ears subsided, I heard him say softly:

"I could never leave you Y/N, I can't...you mean to much to me..."

I didn't know if he realized I heard him, but it made me relax into him a little more. We didn't move for I don't know how long, just holding each other, breathing in sync. I could feel myself start to get sleepy, and began to slump more and more into him. He could feel the wait of me on his chest, and softly laid me back into the bed. When I was settled in, he started to scoot backwards towards the edge of the bed, before I grabbed his arm.

"Stay. Please. Stay," I barely whispered.

He looked down at me, tucked under the covers in an oversized t-shirt with my hair a crazy mess around my face. My eyes were glassy and red from crying, but my grip on his arm was sure.

"Please Buck."

I pulled back the covers next to me, signaling the invitation that I meant it.

He was only in a T-Shirt and boxers in himself, but nevertheless, he climbed in anyways. As he slid down, I pulled myself into him, hugging his torso as the scent of his fabric softener filled my nose.

He wrapped his arm under my head and around me, the other to my back, sheltering me from my nightmares as I drifted back to sleep. When I woke up, my head was resting on top of his chest, his hand still in my hair. I could count his steady heartbeats over time, our breathing once more in time together. I glanced up to see his stubbly face, in a serene sleep. I had heard him up late at night, wandering in the living room. I am sure he had nightmares like me, but I was the unlucky one to have the first terror while we were roommates.

I couldn't help but realize that he put a shirt on.

He never wore a shirt to sleep.

I knew this because I had woken up a time or two to go to the bathroom, and he would be there, on the floor, practically shining as the moonlight radiated off of his skin. It was almost impressive.

So he put a shirt on when he came in to help me last night. I guess it is respectful of him. I mean, everything about last night, or at least what I could remember, made me feel safer than I had in a very long time. Bucky always made me feel safe, but now, lying on his chest, it was deeper than two former soldiers-it was intimate.

I couldn't stop myself, I inched slightly up, lifting my head to his face, practically nose to nose. I could feel him exhale as the air left his nose and tickled my face. I leaned down, just off to the right side of his mouth and softly kissed him. I couldn't kiss him on the lips, but I needed to put it out there, even if he was asleep. I laid back down next to him, facing the ceiling as I felt him softly stir next to me. I tried to discreetly roll away, my body turned away from him, screwing my eyes closed.

I could feel the bed shift underneath me as he awoke. I could feel him leaning over me, checking to see that I was "asleep". Then, I felt his lips on my forehead, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple.

"You can't get away with it that easily Y/N"

My eyes slowly opened, as if afraid I would see it was all a dream, and he wouldn't be there. Instead, he was looking down at me, his head cocked to the side with a crooked smile dancing on his lips. Concern was etched on my brow, though my mouth betrayed me in a half smile as I stared back at the blue eyed soldier.

"I uh-I didn't, uh, mean to wake you Bucky, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," I stuttered out, worried that I might have made him feel pressured to return the favor.

I was surprised when his arm reached for my waist, pulling me from my side to my back as he rested his hands on either side of me. Trapped underneath him, my train of thought was so far off the rails, my ability to even speak was completely hijacked.

"Y/N, you have no idea how long I had been waiting for you to do something like that," he confessed. I quivered underneath him, my only response to his words. He was now hovering above my torso, propped up on his forearms as he continued to ramble.

"I never wanted to pressure or impose anything against you. I thought that you felt it too, and I wanted to be a gentleman, but with last night and you wanting me to stay, and now this morning..., I just wanted to make sure that I am reading the signals right an-"

He was cut off by my hand on the back of his neck, pulling him up to my face where our noses connected once more. His eyes were piercing, searching mine frantically before I closed them and pulled him down. Our lips attached to one another, fitting together softly, one on top of the other. His arm slid underneath my back and pressed me into him as my arm wrapped around his neck, my other hand holding his face. I could feel the metal against my waist, but it was warmer than usual, probably due to being under the covers all night. After years of torture and pain for the both of us, this kiss made terrors of that night worth it. It brought him and I together.

As we pulled away, our lips still stuck to the others until there was enough distance to truly focus our eyesight on the other. Pupils dilated, chests rising and falling against each other, our status shifted from roommates to something more in seconds. Maybe we were always something more and we hadn't realized it until now. But none of the what ifs mattered now. Now, there was a certainty that Bucky and I had a future together.

-------

A/N: This made me cry. A lot. The angst, the coping skills, the little sparks of chemistry. I just love writing about this man. He is everything a girl could ask for. I will start writing a part two tomorrow and I can promise you, it is about to be a lot cuter, a lot smuttier, and a lot more BUCKKKYYYY.

Taglist: @n3ssm0nique @arctic-duchess @bluemoon-icecream