#if you married someone who only wanted to be close for a few months you’d both be miserable the entire time

[hanniebaeee]

Clueless: Baby Bang

Bang Chan x fem!reader

Warnings: Reader is pregnant (just that, nothing deep)

Genre: established relationship, flufffff

Summary: You've been distant lately, and Chan can't understand why. Because this is very unusual for the two of you as you two are on each other all the time. And Chan panics as you guys are getting married in a few months, and this sudden change is unraveling him.

Clueless Masterlist

Chan paced the living room, a deep frown etched into his forehead. You hadn’t touched him in days. Weeks, actually. That alone was already a catastrophe, considering the fact that you two were basically like bunnies.

But now? Nothing. You were dodging his touches like he was contagious. He reached for your hand? Oh, look, you suddenly needed both hands to text someone. He tried for a kiss? Whoops, you conveniently yawned. Bedtime? You were already asleep. 

And that diamond ring glittering on your ring finger? It made him wonder if you were regretting saying yes to him already.

He’d spent way too many nights staring at the ceiling, feeling like the universe was punishing him for something he didn't even know he did.

Chan sighed and opened the group chat. This was bad. He needed to vent.

Chan: She’s avoiding me.

A rapid barrage of notifications followed, and Chan barely had time to process one before another arrived. 

Minho: Y/N? The one who’s practically glued to your lap 24/7?

Hyunjin: LMAO. Not possible. I won't believe it.

Seungmin: You obviously did something.

Chan: NO, I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!

Chan: She’s been acting weird for WEEKS. 2 weeks to be exact. No kisses. No hugs. No… anything.

Jisung: No sex? BRO. Are you okay?

Felix: What if she’s planning something? Like a surprise? Maybe a wedding thing?

---

Chan paused. That was… not unreasonable. But no. You’d never kept secrets from him before. Like you've given him enough surprises before so he knew this was different.

---

Minho: OR. She’s finally come to her senses about you seducing her into saying yes? 

Chan: Minho. I will come to your house and end you.

Jeongin: But seriously, hyung. Did you say something? Do something? Forget an important date? You’re kind of a workaholic.

---

That hit a little too close to home. Chan frowned, scrolling back through his mental timeline of your relationship.

---

Chan: I didn’t forget anything. I swear. We were fine until a couple weeks ago, and now she’s avoiding me like the plague.

Changbin: Well. There’s only one logical explanation.

Changbin: She’s been abducted by aliens and replaced with a clone.

Jisung: YES. I second this. The real Y/N would NEVER do this. 

Felix: Omg guys! 

Chan: GUYS.

Hyunjin: Okay. What if she’s mad because you’re not initiating? She’s waiting for you to grovel.

Seungmin: That makes no sense. If she’s mad, why not just say so?

Hyunjin: IDK, some people like drama.

Jeongin: That’s your toxic trait, Hyung.

Hyunjin: IS NOT!

---

Chan groaned, dropping his phone onto the couch. He missed you. Like, really missed you. Sure, he wanted to rip your clothes off 90% of the time, but he also missed the simple things - your cuddles, your soft laugh, the way you’d always need him by your side when you're stressed. 

The cold shoulders and polite smiles were killing him.

---

Minho: Just confront her, idiot. Corner her in the kitchen and ask her what’s wrong.

Chan: You think I haven’t tried that?! Every time I ask, she changes the subject.

Jisung: Okay, hear me out. Seduction.

Chan: What?

Jisung: Set the mood. Candles. Sexy music. Flex those ridiculous arms. She won’t stand a chance.

Felix: Worth a try. 

---

That night, Chan put the "seduction plan" into action. He dimmed the lights, skipped the candles, and put on a romantic playlist. He even went full drama, lounging on the couch with his shirt conveniently unbuttoned.

When you walked in, your eyebrows shot up as you asked, “What's up?”

Chan said nothing, just held held his hand out.  You froze, guilt flashing across your face, and Chan knew he had you. You placed your hand on his and let him pull you close.

“Baby, what’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me, and it’s driving me crazy. Did I do something wrong?” His voice cracked, and that set you off.

Your eyes filled with tears, and in an instant you were in his lap, clinging to him like your life depended on it.

“I’m sorry, Channie! I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Then why -”

“Shhh,” Chan fell silent as you pressed a finger to his lips. “Just know that I love you, Channie.”

Chan was suspicious. Because, well, you’d shut him up in the best way possible, last night - all he remembered was his shirt coming off and yeah.

You’d seduced him. Thoroughly. And while his brain had short-circuited at that time, he was now absolutely certain that you’d dodged his questions on purpose.

At least he can't complain about you not touching him anymore, right?

---

Chan: It didn't work.

Minho: WHAT didn't?

Chan: She kinda caught me off guard. And avoided my questions.

Jisung: I thought we agreed on YOU seducing her and you got seduced??

Felix: Soooo… you still don’t know what’s going on?

Chan: NO. She’s hiding something, I know it.

Hyunjin: Maybe you’re overthinking. Or, maybe she’s secretly a spy.

Changbin: She’s NOT a spy, Hyunjin. That’s ridiculous.

Hyunjin: And alien clones aren’t?

Minho: Why are we even helping you? You let her seduce you and then just… forgot your goal.

---

Chan groaned, flopping onto his back. It wasn’t his fault! He was weak when it came to you. All it took was a look, or a whisper of his name and his brain turned to mush.

Still, Minho had a point.

---

Chan: Okay, fine. What do I do now?

Felix: She’s probably just stressed? Weddings are a big deal. She might just need time to sort her thoughts.

That gave Chan pause. Weddings were stressful. Maybe that was it?

Hyunjin: My bet’s still on spy.

---

Meanwhile, you were in the bathroom, staring at the little plastic stick in your hand for the hundredth time now. You’d known for two weeks, but the reality hadn’t gotten any less terrifying.

You were pregnant. Pregnant. With Chan’s baby.

The thought sent your heart racing. You loved him more than anything, but… you’d never talked about kids. What if he wasn’t ready? What if he panics when you bring it up? 

There were only a few months until the wedding. You didn’t want to dump this on him now and risk throwing him into a spiral.

---

That night, Chan decided to take Minho’s advice (for once). No more distractions. He was getting answers tonight.

When you walked into the living room and his eyes locked onto yours - you froze. He looked so handsome, and a little…worn out? You felt so guilty for doing this. 

“Come sit,” he said, patting the couch beside him.

You hesitated, but complied, heart pounding.

“Baby, we need to talk,” Chan said, his voice soft but firm.

You swallowed hard as you murmured, “About what?”

“You’ve been acting weird for weeks. And you obviously don't trust me enough to talk it out. I’m worried. What's going on? Is it the wedding?” He was giving you that puppy eyed look, and your heart shattered.

“No, Channie, it's not like that...”

“Then what is it? Please, just tell me.”

You opened your mouth, ready to spill everything - but then you panicked. The words caught in your throat, and instead, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his.

Here he was - caught off guard (again) but quickly melting into the kiss. You climbed into his lap, your hands tangling in his hair, and within seconds, all thoughts of questioning were gone.

---

Chan: SHE DID IT AGAIN.

Minho: You’re hopeless.

Seungmin: At this rate, she could rob a bank and get away with it.

Felix: Honestly, I’m impressed.

---

Chan sighed, glaring at the group chat before throwing his phone across the bed. Whatever you were hiding, it was big. And he was determined to find out, one way or another.

Little did he know, in the bathroom, you were rehearsing how to tell him the truth: that in just a few months, he wasn’t just going to be your husband.

He was going to be a dad.

Chan was officially losing it. His imagination had gone to some very dark places (thanks to Changbin’s clone theory and Hyunjin’s spy nonsense), but now he just felt defeated. What was so big and terrifying, that you felt like you couldn’t share it with him?

Chan: I give up. She’s unbreakable.

Jisung: Hey don't lose hope.

Minho: Pathetic.

Jeongin: Just sit her down and don’t let her leave until she talks.

Chan: I’VE TRIED THAT.

Chan was ready to lock himself and you in a room till you cracked, but unfortunately he was already cracking under the stress. And then a lightbulb went off in his head. There was just one person in the world who might be able to get through to you.

Felix.

---

Felix was, to put it lightly, concerned when Chan cornered him in his kitchen.

“Lix, you have to help me,” Chan said, his eyes wild and desperate.

“Help you how?” Felix asked cautiously.

“Can you please try to talk to her?” Chan literally begs. “She loves you, Lix. Maybe she’ll tell you if you ask?”

Felix hesitated, torn between loyalty to Chan, who was literally his brother and his friendship with you. But ultimately, his desire to help won anyway.

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll talk to her.”

---

Later that afternoon, you opened the door to find Felix standing on your porch, holding a box of cookies and his sunniest smile. 

“Lixie?” you asked, surprised. “So good to see you!”

“Just wanted to check on you, love,” he said, coming forward to hug you.

You stepped aside to let him in, and the two of you settled on the couch.

“I baked these for you,” he said, watching your reaction closely as you opened the box and munched on a cookie immediately. “You’ve been looking a little stressed lately.”

You stopped mid-chew, guilt gnawing at you.

“I’m fine, Lix. Just… wedding stuff, you know?” you said, carefully avoiding his eyes.

“Is it really just the wedding?” Felix tilted his head, unconvinced.

You froze, your hands tightening around the box.

“You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I won’t judge.” Felix said, reaching out and placing a gentle hand over yours.

Your eyes welled up with tears, and as you put the box aside gently. Felix scooted closer as he saw the tears fall, and before you knew it, the truth came spilling out.

“I’m pregnant, Felix,” you whispered. “And I don’t know how to tell Chan. We’ve never talked about kids, and I don’t even know if he wants them. And now the wedding’s so close, and I’m scared I’ll ruin everything. I already got my wedding dress and I don't think I'll fit into it anymore because by that time-”

Felix’s eyes went wide, and for a moment, he looked like he might burst into tears himself. But then he let out a strangled laugh.

“You’re… you’re pregnant?”

You nodded, sniffled and managed a soft, “Yeah.”

Felix threw his arms around you, nearly knocking you over. 

“Oh my God, Y/N! I’m so happy for you! And for Chan! You’re gonna have the cutest baby in the world!” he gushed, his eyes sparkling with happy tears. 

You couldn’t help but laugh through your own tears. 

“You don't think this is a disaster?” you asked softly, wiping your tears away. 

“Disaster?” Felix pulled back, shaking his head. “Of course not. This is amazing! But you have to tell Chan. He’s going insane trying to figure out what’s wrong.”

“I know,” you said softly. “I just… I’m scared.”

Felix gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Chan loves you more than anything. Trust me, he’s gonna be over the moon. And I'll always be here for you. Seriously, sweetheart, this is the best news ever.”

---

Hyunjin: Well? Did she tell you?

Jisung: SPILL, FELIX.

Chan: Felix? Please. I’m dying here.

Felix hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He couldn’t betray your trust, but he also couldn’t leave Chan hanging.

Felix: She’s okay. She’s just… working through something.

Minho: And you’re being suspiciously vague.

Seungmin: Should've known that sending her best friend to investigate wasn't your strongest idea… obviously he's gonna take her side! 

Felix: I promised I wouldn’t say anything. But it’s nothing bad, I swear.

Chan: Seriously?? Nothing bad? Then why is she avoiding me?

Felix: Just… be patient with her, okay? She’ll tell you when she’s ready. I promise it's all ok. Trust me. 

Chan frowned at the message, his heart twisting.

You had spent the whole night rehearsing what to say to Chan, your stomach churning with nerves. Morning came far too quickly, and as you watched him shuffle into the kitchen with his hair messy and his sleepy face, you nearly chickened out.

But Felix’s words echoed in your head. He’s gonna be over the moon.

“Channie,” you said softly, placing your mug of tea aside and taking a step towards him. 

He looked up from the coffee maker, his sleepy eyes brightening instantly. You were trying to talk to him, and somehow that was enough. Anything was better than you avoiding him. 

“Morning, baby.”

You smiled nervously, gesturing to the table. “Can we talk?”

His brow furrowed, worry flashing across his face as he nodded and sat down opposite you.

“Is everything okay?”

You took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you said, “You know how I’ve been… weird lately?”

Chan nodded, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Well,” you continued, “there’s a reason for that. And I’ve been scared to tell you because it’s big. Like, really big.”

“Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise, I’ll handle it.” Chan said, reaching across the table and taking your hand in his.

Your eyes filled with tears as you finally said it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Chan froze. Completely. His mouth hung open, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as his brain processed your words.

“You’re… pregnant?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You nodded, tears spilling over.

“Yeah. I found out a couple of weeks ago, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know if you’d be okay with it, or if it was too much with the wedding coming up -”

Chan cut you off by pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. His body shook as he let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and you realized he was crying.

“Channie, are you okay?” you asked nervously, your own voice shaking as you stroked his hair.

“Okay?” he choked out, pulling back to look at you with tear-streaked cheeks and the biggest grin you’d ever seen. “Baby, I’m better than okay. I’m… I’m gonna be a dad?”

You nodded, your heart swelling at the pure joy on his face.

Chan laughed, his tears flowing freely now.

“Holy crap. I don’t know what to say?! We’re having a baby. A baby!”

Before you could say anything else, Chan was  peppering your face with kisses, squeezing you in the tightest hug ever.

“I love you so much. Baby, you’re…I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this on your own.” he said, cupping your cheeks with his hands. 

“I didn’t want to stress you out,” you admitted, clinging to him as he pulled you onto his lap. “And…I've never been more scared about anything my entire life? I mean, I adore you, and I know I want this with you, our baby already means the world to me…but not knowing if you would want that too? It's been killing me, we've never even joked about this before, Channie… “

“You could’ve told me sooner, baby,” he said softly, kissing the tip of your nose. “I thought we were clear about this, with you, I'm ready for anything! But I get it. And I love you even more for worrying about me. But baby, we’re in this together. Always.”

---

Chan: GUYS. I HAVE NEWS. HUGE NEWS 🤩

Jisung: Finally!! 

Hyunjin: I told you she's a spy!! No one ever listens to me!! 

Minho: He’s too happy for that, you idiot.

Chan: WE’RE HAVING A BABY.

Jeongin: Excuse me, WHAT?

Changbin: STOP. Really?! 

Seungmin: Wow, plot twist

Felix: Oh thank godddddd😭😭😭😭

Felix: I was dying here

Chan: SHE TOLD ME THIS MORNING. I’M GONNA BE A DAD. WE’RE GONNA BE PARENTS. OMG.

---

It felt like everytime he said it, it felt a little more real.

---

Jisung: Congratulations, bro. Wow. 

Hyunjin: I AM CRYING. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE REPRODUCING.

Chan: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Chan: MY BABYGIRL AND I ARE HAVING A BABY😭💖

Minho: Jokes aside, this is such great news!! Congrats. Now go take care of your pregnant fiancée instead of spamming us.

Chan: I think I'm gonna faint

Changbin: Congrats, bro. But also… HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE SHE WAS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING?

Chan: I NOTICED! I just didn't think she was, you know

Jisung: Avoiding you because she was growing your spawn, apparently.

Hyunjin: “Spawn” makes it sound like a little gremlin. Oh my Gawd 🤣

Felix: STOP. My baby’s gonna be so adorable I’ll CRY 😭

Minho: Okay, Felix, you’re suspiciously calm about this. Did you already know?

Felix: 👀

Hyunjin: YOU KNEW.

Chris: WHAT?? FELIX, YOU KNEW BEFORE ME?!

Felix: SHE TOLD ME FIRST, OKAY? SHE WAS NERVOUS, AND I PROMISED I WOULDN’T SAY ANYTHING.

Jisung: Wow. Betrayal.

Chan: SO YOU JUST LET ME SUFFER FOR WEEKS??

Felix: Yes. And? I'd do it again for her.

Changbin: LMAO savage.

Jeongin: Shame on you for trusting him when everyone knows he works for her

Chan: Thanks for being on her side, Lix

Felix: Anytime 💖

Hyunjin: Omg, imagine Baby Bang. Tiny curls, tiny dimples 😍

Chan: STOP I’M ALREADY CRYING AGAIN 😭

Jeongin: I've never been this excited for a baby really. You'd let us babysit won't you? 

Changbin: Oh yeah. Group uncle duty.

Hyunjin: We're gonna be dancing before we can even walk Baby Bang 🤝

Felix: For sure!

Chan: THANK YOU GUYS FOR BEING EXCITED FOR US!

Jisung: Save your tears for the wedding, Daddy Bang.

Jeongin: When do we throw a baby shower? Felix?

Felix: Already planning it.

Hyunjin: This baby’s gonna be so loved.

Chan: THANK YOU, GUYS. I LOVE YOU ALL 😭

---

Chan added Y/N to the group chat.

Chan: SURPRISE, BABY! WELCOME TO THE CHAOS.

Jisung: AHHH THE QUEEN IS HERE!

Hyunjin: ALL HAIL THE BABY-MAKER 👑

Minho: Congrats on creating life and also tolerating Chan for this long.

Felix: YAYYYYYY YOU’RE HERE! 😭 We’ve been dying to have you here!!!

Jeongin: Thank you for gifting us Baby Bang. We promise to only slightly corrupt them.

Changbin: We’re all crying. I’m crying. Hyung is crying. Everyone’s crying.

Y/N:😂

Y/N: Oh my God, you guys.

Minho: This is us being tame.

Hyunjin: Soooo, what does it feel like, hm? Asking for research purposes, of course

Chan: Oh yeah, totally not gonna run off and impregnate someone 🙄

Hyunjin: What's it to you Christopher? You can do it, but I can't?! 

Chan: Oh please

Minho: I told her to get a collar for this damn puppy and look who's here yapping

Y/N: Leave him alone guys!

Hyunjin: I respect you, Y/N. I respect you. So I'm gonna shut up (Mr Know, let's do this face to face huh)

Minho: Gladly.

Felix: Honestly, Y/N, we’re just honored to be part of this. 

Y/N: Thanks guys, this means a lot to us. 

Changbin: And we’re going to spoil them rotten.

Jeongin: Rotten is an understatement.

Y/N: 🤭🤭🤭

Minho: You won't even know what hit you for the next 18 years. Or 30.

Chan: GUYS. Stop scaring her. Baby, they’re joking.

Felix: We’re not.

Hyunjin: Nope.

Jisung: Absolutely not.

Y/N: I'm all in for that hehe

Chan: I love you guys

Jisung: Chan’s in his feels again.

Felix: We have a wedding and baby shower to plan! 

Hyunjin: OMG. A pregnant bride. You’re gonna be so GLOWY.

Y/N: Thank you for being this excited for us. I love you guys 😭💖

Felix: We love you too!! 🥺💖

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8

[innerfare]

You’re Jealous

 Summary: You get jealous of someone else in his life.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, and Kid

Genre: Slight Angst // Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy:

He never told you Boa Hancock was in love with him, and when you find out, you have to remove yourself from the situation before you have an emotional outburst and start something with the Pirate Empress. The problem is, you don’t even know which emotion will spill out of you. Finding out the world’s most beautiful woman, and a powerful Warlord, no less, is desperate to marry Luffy is a whirlwind, to say the least. Luffy can seem clueless at times, but his emotional intelligence is through the roof, and he picks up on what has you upset almost straight away. He knows to give you some space, and when he senses you’re ready, he approaches you with a handful of wildflowers he picked. He doesn’t really say much, just pulls you into a hug, presses a few kisses into your cheek and temple, and says in your ear, “you’re my girl.” 

Zoro:

He didn’t mention Perona was also at Mihawk’s castle for those two years until a few months after the crew gets together. He tells a story that features her, and you realize there was a woman keeping him company. Your heart drops into your stomach. Zoro insists he didn’t mention her because he didn’t think she was relevant; the only thing Perona did those two years was annoy him. He’s actually the one who won’t let it go, not you (even though you are pretty jealous). Whereas you’d prefer not to talk about it, Zoro is wracked with guilt because he’d never considered the whole thing in a relationship context. Him fretting constantly over it actually heals your jealousy because you realize you’ve never seen him panic over the prospect of hurting anyone else’s feelings. 

Sanji:

Even with a third eye, Pudding is stunning. And Sanji almost married her. It was before you two were together, but listening to the stories from Whole Cake, hearing how close he came to marrying another woman, knowing she really did fall in love with his kind heart and wonderful cooking, turns you into a little green monster. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous of a woman you’ve never met before, a woman Sanji chose not to marry, but you can’t help it. Sanji is completely shocked that you would feel jealous over his relationship (if it could even be called that) with Pudding, though after thinking about it some more, he does realize why you might be jealous that he had a fiancé. His solution is to bring you a bouquet of roses and walk you through the dark details of his life, telling you things he’s never outright told anyone, so you understand the special place you have in his life. 

Ace:

He collects people without trying, and often times, without realizing, either. Ace thinks he’s just making friends, but you see the way the women he laughs and shares drinks with are drawn to him like plants to the sun. He promises them freedom and adventure (and he has a very nice laugh), and you can see how it excites them. You don’t really mind it, knowing Ace well enough to see the way he holds those women at arm’s length, even if he seems close with them (such is the magic of Fire First Ace). But Yamato makes you jealous. It’s not hearing the way they laughed together but hearing the way they fought that gets to you. You know how Ace lives to fight and even just roughhouse, you know how he’s a rough and tumble guy, and you worry you’re not tough enough. Should you be punching his arm when he makes a joke? Should you be trying to trip him out on deck? What should you be doing? When you finally come clean with Ace about what’s been bothering you, he actually laughs. “If I wanted to be with someone who gives me hell, I’d be sleeping in Marco’s cabin every night. Besides,” he says, scooping you up in his arms, “I like being able to manhandle you.” 

Sabo:

Sabo is a flirt, and you knew that going into your relationship. It actually doesn’t bother you when he flashes that charming smile of his at someone else or swoops in to save a damsel in distress (a speciality of his) and even serves to entertain, especially on the rare occasions his flirtations are rebuked. What does bother you, though, is his tight relationship with Koala. You know it’s ridiculous to be envious, you know Koala would sooner saw off her arm than kiss the man she considers her irksome big brother, but they’ve known each other since they were little kids, and Koala has been through so much with Sabo that the pair have such a close bond. It’s not the angry kind of jealousy that bubbles up in you when Koala mentions something about Sabo’s past that she assumes you know but you don’t, just the sad kind that you try to keep to yourself. Surprisingly, Sabo notices, though you don’t realize until he hugs you from behind and mumbles in your ear that he’s glad you’re the only one who knows he has a skincare routine, his silly words diffusing your mood and acting as the exact affirmation you needed. If it’s not enough, though, he’ll happily prove his loyalty to you by challenging Koala to a karate match, though.  

Law:

Dr. Law and Dr. Robin sure do get along well- so well, in fact, you can’t help but wonder if they are better suited to each other than you and him. Even if they didn’t have such good chemistry, it would be impossible not to feel a touch of jealousy toward the archeologist. She’s intelligent, beautiful, fiercely loyal, a member of the Straw Hats, and has an impressive bounty that she earned even before she became a pirate. Needless to say, you find yourself brooding when the Robin brings him a beer and sits down beside him to discuss the immune systems of fishmen, a topic both are rather interested in. Of course, you’re interested in that, too, thus the reason Law realizes something is wrong when you don’t participate in the conversation. He ends up excusing the two of you and taking you to bed, worrying you had too much to drink, the thought you may be jealous never once occurring to him. You end up not saying anything (many thing in your relationship with Law being unspoken) and just sleeping it off, the fact that he excused the two of you proof enough of his loyalty. 

Kid:

He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[reidrum]

one of me is cute, but two though?

A/N: …no explanation for this i fear. probably ovulating again. stream short n sweet, happy kinktober !

cw: *cracks knuckles* smut 18+ minors dni, softdom!spence, fingering, oral (m receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, marking?, cr**mp*e, edging, aftercare, pet names, mentions of hypothetical pregnancy, fem!reader, a very real research paper that i actually looked up and read, this is filth but at least it’s prn with plot!

wc: 3.2k

summary: spencer can’t wait to have kids with you, in fact he wants to start right now

i love feedback! and talking to people!!! especially about spencer!!! pls interact with me it would make my entire existence okay thank you also this isn’t proofread

Spencer having baby fever wasn’t new to anyone, as the godfather of two of his closest friends’ children and known to be a crowd favorite to the kids at parties, he always had a longing desire to have children of his own to love and raise.

He’ll admit that at the start of your relationship he didn’t know how far the two of you would go, what kind of future was out there for you both. But the more you integrated into his life, his routine, his values, the more he knew for certain he would spend the rest of his life with you.

That brings you to today, you and Spencer were having an errands day making stops at the grocery store and target. As you’ve finished shopping around you both stand in line to checkout, and you’re standing behind a mother holding her little baby staring at you with her big green eyes. Your face melts as you coo gently at the baby, making silly faces and enjoying her little giggles.

A completely normal moment for you, but absolutely world changing moment for Spencer. It’s like something turns primal in him watching you play with the baby. Suddenly he’s picturing you rocking cradles at night, taking your kids—his kids—out to the park, how you’d look with a round belly carrying his child.

He looks at you with an adoration fueled by need, as in he needs to get you home right now before he attacks you in the middle of target.

A gently nudge pulls him from his daydream, “Hey, you okay? Lost you for a second.”

He shakes his head and steps forward to place the items on the conveyor belt and goes up to pay, “Yeah, no I’m okay.” he says mindlessly swiping his card and grabbing the bags.

You furrow your brows and walk to the car, tabling his weird behavior for another time to discuss, “I’m too hungry to question whatever that was right now, can we get pho?”

“Sure, baby. Whatever you want.” He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your head before getting into the driver’s seat, absentmindedly still thinking about what your little ones would look like.

After you get lunch it’s a short drive home, but Spencer can’t help but wonder how the hell he got to this point. He wanted children with you, and yet you weren’t even married, not even close to it. You had just moved in with him only a few months ago, but he’s still firm in knowing he wants to spend forever with you.

You open the door to the house, Spencer following behind imagining little footsteps pattering throughout the house, a mini you and mini him. He’s so into his daze he doesn’t see the dining table and bangs his hip against it.

He groans in pain as you rush into the room, “Are you okay? I heard a bang.”

“No, I’m fine I just hit my hip.” He winces in pain.

The suspicion from earlier rises again and you can’t help but bluntly ask, “What is going on with you? You’re being spacey and weird with me. If it’s something I did please tell—“

“Do you want kids?” he blurts out interrupting you.

Your eyes widen, “Wh—what?”

Spencer’s eyes widen too, why the hell did he just say that? “I—um…Okay, not as in right this second. But, is that…something you’d want in the future?”

You pause for a few seconds before speaking softly, “Yeah, it is.”

“Okay. Cool.” He tries to say as nonchalantly as someone who downed an espresso shot.

Then it all starts to click for you, the lingering touches, the looks at the store when you’d see little babies, on walks in the park he’d stare into the playground.

“Spencer…do you… want to have kids…with me?” You ask so softly he subconsciously moves closer to hear you better.

He tries to pull every psychology and behavior tactic he can to read the expression on your face, to decipher what you’re truly feeling, but he comes up empty and is left to grapple with the emotions of the moment on his own.

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? Oh baby, no I’m not mad. Just a little surprised, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” You move to stand right in front of him at arm’s length, to let him know you’re right there, that you’re always there.

“How could I not? You are so beautiful, kind, and smart. I think I’d be the luckiest dad in the galaxy if my kids turned out like you.” He says softly, grabbing your hand to thumb at the palm in a soothing manner, more to calm his nerves than yours but it’s really working both ways. You couldn’t look any softer to him than right then.

He continues, “I’m sorry if I made things awkward, but I love you, and I want a future with you. House, kids, taxes, all of it.”

You fake gasp, “Even taxes?”

“Especially taxes,” He smiles as he plays into your dramatics, “Like I said, I don’t mean right now. I know there’s like thirty steps we have to take before then. But I’m here for all of it.”

“Spence…” You tearfully smile, “I love you, and I want all of it too.”

Spencer couldn’t be more happy as he slowly leans in to kiss you, lingering so you know just how happy he is. He pulls back and peppers kisses all over your face while you giggle, “Okay, okay!”

He presses one last big kiss on your forehead, cartoonish noise and all, and he wraps you up in his arms tightly.

“So…did something happen today that made you tell me?” You ponder. Of course you’d been thinking about a future with Spencer. but you didn’t know that he felt the same way, and so seriously at that.

He mumbles into your shoulder, “You were playing with that baby in the Target checkout line. And I’m not kidding, all day I couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d look like carrying our child.”

You grin wickedly, “You really wanna knock me up that bad, huh?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea the restraint I had today to not pounce on you in the middle of the store. I would have risked the life ban in a heartbeat.”

“Yeah?” You glide your finger down his chest, “What did you wanna do?”

Spencer smirks, seeing the game you’re playing. “Well, I was thinking about this book I read on the best positions for maximum fertility.”

“So you read porn—“

“It’s not porn!” He chuckles, “It’s a real scientific study they did in Cambridge about if different positions induce fertility due to the variances in angle of the male ejaculation, and whether it would increase the rate of fertilization. It was actually really fascinating. They had the subjects do it inside the MRI machine.”

You can’t help but feel flustered, “I can't believe that turned me on.”

“I also know that you’re ovulating right now, so all your sexual senses are heightened.”

“I know I should find that funny, but it’s actually so fucking hot that you know that.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders to bring his head closer to your ear as you whisper, “Wanna go try them out?”

Spencer’s eyes darken and he immediately reacts, “Jump.” holding your thighs up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You giggle a little above his head, cupping it with both hands as you lean down to kiss him while he walks to your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed with a squeal before working his shirt off, watching you slowly peel your own shirt off and shimmy out of your pants leaving you bare in a bra and panties.

He lets out a groan, “I think you’re trying to kill me.” He climbs over your body and leans down to attack your neck, one hand holding one of yours above your head the other trailing its way down. A finger traces the outline of your panties, pressing down on the wet patch near your entrance.

You moan languishly and he smirks at your reaction, “I got you, okay baby? Gonna make you feel so good.”

His finger finally slides past the fabric and makes contact with your cunt, gathering the slick and spreading it all over you. Breathless moans escape you, and by the time you’re used to one finger the fucker adds another finger and rests his thumb on your clit drawing soft circles.

The feeling of his fingers sliding so easily in and out of you is terrifyingly intoxicating, and you can’t seem to get enough. He can feel you squeezing his fingers and by your increased moans he knows you’re close, “C’mon pretty girl, you can do it.”

The little praise he gives you is enough to send you over the edge, and you’d be embarrassed at how easily it affected you if you weren’t so overcome with coming down from your peak. You slowly regain your bearing through heavy breaths and look up at him above you with hooded eyes, “Jesus, Spence.”

A wide smirk plasters on his face as he stands up from the bed, “Just getting started baby.” He makes work of his belt buckle and slides it off while you crawl over to help him with pulling his zipper down. You tug his pants down enough to expose his bulge, and you lightly palm him through his boxer.

A deep groan rumbles through his throat, his hands coming up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail as watches you slowly pull him out of boxers. He’s achingly hard, tip red and throbbing. You coo at him, “Poor thing, must’ve been painful today keeping this in, when all you wanted to do was come inside me, hm?” a strangled noise leaves him as you continue, “I know you really wanna sink your dick in me, but can I have just a little taste?”

The doe eyes you give him as you speak your lewd words has him nearly teetering over the edge and you haven’t even put your mouth on him yet. He nods vigorously, not trusting words to do him good and watches himself slowly disappear down into your throat, further and further back until he hits something hard and you gag a little. He mutters a sorry that sounds like a half cry half moan, but the way his hips are subconsciously thrusting into you and the hand that’s gripping your hair guiding you so, tells you he might not actually be that sorry.

“Fu—uu—uck.” his head tilts back as the overly enunciated curse flies out of his mouth. Your head bobs with a ferocity on his cock, using your hand to pump whatever you can’t comfortably fit into your mouth. Spencer thinks this is what heaven must be like, that you an angel personified have brought the pearly gates down onto the Earth and blessed him with your mouth.

You continue to take him into your throat for a few more seconds before you feel a sharp tug on your hair that wasn’t meant to hurt but might’ve felt that way with how desperate Spencer needed you off of him.

“What happened?” you ask, voice raspy and confused.

He breathes heavily, “Don’t wanna come in your mouth.” you giggle and sit up on your knees and Spencer closes the distance by reaching for your head in both hands and pulling you in for a long kiss.

“Turn around.” he whispers low, gently pushing you onto your stomach the second your back is to him. The anticipation builds as you can hear him remove the remainder of his clothing, and he climbs over you to unclip your bra and gently pull your panties over and off your legs.

He tosses them to the side and returns to looming above you while you’re splayed out on your stomach in front of him. You get on your forearms and arch your back, letting your ass and cunt be on full display for him knowing this was a position he loved. He can’t help himself but lean forward and swipe his tongue through your folds, groaning at how sweet you taste.

When he pulls off of you, you’re fully expecting his next move would be to finally be inside you. What you don’t expect, is him backing up a little and pulling your legs back towards him so you’re back to lying fully flat on the bed. Before you even have a chance to question him he’s crawling back over you and lowering his head to whisper hotly in your ear, “Have you ever tried this one?”

The long and soft whine you let out goes straight to his cock as he lines himself up at your entrance and slowly pushes in. Pushing past the folds of your cunt that wraps so perfectly around him, he’s in awe watching it enter you. You, on the other hand, are on a different planet from the feeling the new position is giving you. He’s deeper than he’s ever been in you, reaching spots you didn’t even know existed, his hands pressing onto your back so hard you know there’s going to be imprints later.

The moans escaping from you are consumed by the sheets beneath you, his pace unrelenting as he holds you in place and ruts into you.

“Spence..” you whine softly.

The weight of his hands press your body further into the mattress as he leans down right next to ear and whispers hotly, “Yeah, baby?

The emotions builds in you fast and the need to kiss him becomes stronger, “Wanna see you…Need to see you.”

His hips stutter at the tone of your voice, so whiny and desperate, all for him. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, how he became the object of all your desires, how everyday you wake up and it’s him you choose repeatedly, and will continue to choose for the rest of time. You’ve always loved him, it was a fact you made sure that he knew every single day.

When he flips you over with a gentleness, he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, hoping that the synergy flows between your contact and you can feel it in every nerve ending, just how in love he is with you. He think you got the message as he watches you move your hand between your bodies to grab at his cock and slowly guide back inside you while you both watch him push fully into you again.

He looks down between your bodies and watches his cock move in and out of you, mesmerized by the ring of slick that reappears with every pull out. It’s nearly automatic the way his thumb reaches for your clit and moves his eyes upward to watch you completely unravel at the hands of his touch.

Your brows are furrowed together in pleasure, “Fuck…’m close.” you mutter through a whine.

His hips snap to meet yours rapidly, “Yeah? Me too…” he taps your leg to lift it onto his shoulder, deepening his angle and circling you around the throes of your release. He grunts out, “Gonna let me put a baby in you?”

You clench down on him hard with a loud moan, neither of you expecting the effect his words had on you. Spencer chuckles and bends down to press love bites into the crook of your neck before trailing back up to your ear and whispers, “Didn’t think you’d be into me talking like that…you really want everyone to know who fucks you good every night? Want them to see you walk around with our baby in your belly?”

Your moans are uncontrollable at this point, it’s a miracle you can still hear him over the incoherent, borderline babbling sounds you’re making. He doesn’t relent as his hand slides up your neck to grip your jaw to hold your head in place, “Say it, I wanna hear you say it.”

A whimper falls out of you, “I—fuck—I want y—you…”

His hips slow down their pace, “Not good enough, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

The tiniest panic rises in you at the thought of him stopping, “No, don’t stop! Spencer, please. I want a baby, please want it all with you, please, please.” You realize in that moment you were never above begging to begin with, not when he’s between your legs offering you the world from the comfort of your sheets.

His pace quickens and groans at your pleas, leaning down closer so he’s chest to chest with you, “Oh, sweet girl,” he pants, “You’ll look so pretty carrying our kid, gonna drive me crazy watching you walk around.”

A string of moans trail out of your mouth, encompassed by the feeling of him inside you, the thoughts of your future together only adding to the intensity of the moment.

You weakly breath out, “Come inside me, please. Wanna make you a daddy.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear reach his peak and release into your cunt, rhythmic moans punctuating every thrust. Your grip on him tightens as you squeeze out every last drop of him. He feels himself become soft and gently pulls out, watching his come drip out of your hole. With a whimper he delicately picks up the excess with two fingers and enters you again, eliciting a languished whimper to match his.

“I know, I know, baby. Did so good for me, ‘m so proud of you.” he mumbles, watching the white coat his fingers as they move inside you. “Can you give me one more? Just one, I promise. Look so pretty like this, I can’t help it.”

You’re about to protest, feeling the sensitivity get the better of you when the pleasure hits again, another moan escaping you clearly telling him you can take it.

It’s a softer orgasm this time, a smaller peak but still lust filled and has you panting heavily as you come down from it. Spencer finally collapses on the bed next to you, his chest also heaving.

“You okay, baby?” he mumbles after a few minutes.

Words can’t fulfill you right now and all you can offer is a nod as you lazily lull your head over to him. He nods and reluctantly gets up from the bed despite your pout with a promise to be so quick, and returns with a wet cloth, a water bottle, and a fresh set of clothes for you. You let him gingerly clean you up before he helps dress you and slips right back into place beside you with a kiss to your temple.

“I love you…so much,” he whispers while pulling you into his embrace, “I really can’t wait to start a family with you.”

You hum contentedly, tilting your head up to press a kiss to his jaw, “I love you too.”

A few moments pass before he speaks again, “But…you’re still—“

“Still on birth control, baby. Don’t worry.”

[lesservillain]

baby daddy!eddie x mom!reader

cw: smut, non established relationship, best friend!eddie as well, idiots in love

wc: 3.8k

Closing the door as gently as he could, Eddie tip toed down the hall of the trailer and rounded into the kitchen to get himself a beer. He’d played hard enough with Autumn that she could barely keep her eyes open through her bath, but that also meant he wore himself out in the process. So after cracking open a can, he plops his ass down and turns on the TV, ready to chill until he passes out on the couch.

Well, that was the plan. Just as he got comfortable, there was a small knock on the trailer door. With a frustrated sigh, Eddie jumps back up, mumbling something about people coming to his house so late at night.

“Listen, I’ve told you all I don’t fucking deal anymore—Woah!”

Instead of some annoying kids looking for weed, Eddie was met with your sniffling nose and tear stained cheeks. He immediately went into best friend mode, wrapping you in a big hug and letting you get those emotions out.

After some crying and a soaked shoulder later, you finally peel yourself away from Eddie and attempted to talk, but only babbling came out.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Eddie says, thumbs rubbing the tops of your shoulders. “Just calm down and tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you?”

You shook your head, doing your best to compose yourself.

“He-he-he g-got mar-married,” you hiccup out.

Eddie blinks at you. He knows exactly what you were talking about. Dustin told him back when that Harrington met a girl about 6 months ago and apparently they hit it off right away. The last thing he wanted to do was tell you about her considering your long time pining for him Especially considering he’s the reason Harrington would never ask you out. But you ended up finding out on your own, and devastated couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt.

It seemed soon in Eddie’s opinion, granted he would marry you tomorrow if you would say yes. When Dustin told him that he was going to be the best man that the wedding, Eddie had mixed feelings. He knew that it would kill you when you found out. That you’d react exactly as you were now.

Actually, you’re doing a little better than he anticipated.

“He came into the store and,” you blew your nose into the toilet paper he grabbed for you, “and I saw the ring on his finger when he was getting his money out of his wallet.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close.

“They haven’t even known each other that long! He’s such an idiot…”

“I’ve been trying to tell you that,” Eddie jokes, rolling his eyes.

“Oh god, what if--do you think it’s because she’s pregnant?”

Eddie’s pretty sure Dustin would have told him if that was the reason why, but it’s not an unreasonable guess.

“I don’t know, could be? Or maybe Steve Harrington is just an idiot like you said. And maybe they’ll be divorced by this time next year. Who knows, right?”

You sighed, leaning into Eddie and resting your head against him. “I don’t even know why I’m so upset. He was never going to ask me out anyway. No one wants a young single mom. Steve has his whole life to do what he wants, why would he be with someone who has so much baggage?”

“Hey, don’t say that about Audy,” Eddie scolds.

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” you correct, “I was talking about myself. I’d never be with someone who didn’t accept Autumn. Even Steve Harrington. I just…I’m damaged goods, Eddie.”

Eddie could feel himself getting upset but didn’t want to make things worse right now, so he took a few breathes to steady himself. He said your name sternly, pulling your full attention to him.

“I don’t like it when you say things like that. It makes me feel like it’s my fault--”

“Eddie,” you stop him before he can get another word out, “You know that you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve told you before that if I was going to get pregnant right out of high school with anyone that I wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else but you.”

Eddie knows this, and he feels the same. But it’s not what he wants.

Even though it was all a total accident, he hoped that night the two of you spent together was going to be the next step for both of you. And even though he was scared after you told him with tears in your eyes then that he had gotten you pregnant, he wished with all his might that it would bring the two of you closer together.

Which it did in a way. Obviously the two of you would be bound together for the rest of your lives, but it wasn’t in the way he wanted. You still were head over heels for Steve, and there was no way Eddie could even compare to the king.

“Yeah…I know.” He says somberly. Your brows pinch, making him worried he should have said something else.

Then your expression changed. You looked at him intensely for a moment, before your eyes became lidded and…were you leaning in?

Eddie thought fast, making a quick decision to put his hand over your mouth, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes go wide as dinner plates, tears perching on your waterline as what hot embarrassment washes over you.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, suddenly regretting everything. This could have been his chance and he was an idiot.

You pull his hand from his mouth, sitting in silence for a moment before you begin to laugh. It catches Eddie off guard and he freezes.

“Eddie, I should be the one apologizing,” you say with giggles. “I’m the one who was stupid enough to try and kiss her best friend for a second time. We both know what happened the first time and the last thing we need is history to repeat itself.”

Eddie still felt conflicted. Your tone wasn’t sitting right with him, like there was some level of self depreciation in your words.

After a moment you stop laughing. Your face warps into worry as you stand from the couch.

“I-I need to go—“

“No, wait!” Eddie stands to grab your wrist before you could run away. He pulls you into him and hugs you tightly to him. You stand still before slowly wrapping your arms around him, gripping his shirt in your hands.

“Listen, I know you’re going through a lot emotionally right now, but…I’m here for whatever you need. Even if…” He trails off for a moment, knowing that he’s just going to hurt himself if he lets you use him. But he can’t turn you away when you need him. He’d rather you take advantage of his feelings than run off to someone else who would hook up with you without second thought.

“Even if it means crossing a boundary that we’ve already crossed before.”

Eddie feels you press into him harder, face buried in his chest. And when you look up at him, Eddie thinks he could melt into a puddle and let you mold him to however you’d like.

“I don’t think I should make any rash decisions right now,” you say with a sniffle. “I think I just need to clear my head. Let myself rot in my own misery instead of dumping it all on you.”

“Or,” Eddie says with a smile, “you could rot with me. I rented some movies and some beers in the fridge that have your name on them. I think we have some leftover pizza still, too.”

Your smile was so bright it was comparable to the sun rising. There was nothing in the world that could keep him down as long as you were happy. Eddie probably would have dropped out of school after his second failure if you hadn’t simply smiled at him and told him that he would graduate next year, for sure. He probably only did because you smiled at him every time he got a good grade.

The way you hugged him for a long time after a report card with no F’s on it kept Eddie’s head in the zone that last school year. And, well, the way your body felt under his when he finally graduated…

Eddie shook his head, wracking his brain for anything to keep his mind from thinking about that night right now. There’s no way him getting a boner while you were still holding on to him so tight would be good.

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” you finally say after staring up at him for several beats. But Eddie caught the somber look in your eyes. It was going to take a lot of distracting to get you in a good head space.

“You know, I think we might still have some popcorn, too.”

After a few drinks, some weed, and a movie and a half later, Eddie finds himself waking up on his couch at some point after falling asleep. The bright, staticy screen causes him to squint his eyes, turning his head enough to bump his chin against the top of your head.

Eddie looks down at where you’re leaning into his side. He vaguely remembers wrapping an arm around you before the two of you had succumbed to sleep. It pains him to possibly wake you but the urge to pee is what startled him awake in the first place, so he does his best to untangle himself from you and sneaks to the bathroom.

On the way back to the couch, Eddie decided to stop in his room and grab a blanket for the two of you. But when he returns, he finds you sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Hey,” you croak out, looking at him with squinted eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers back. “I brought us a blanket.”

You stretch before standing up from the couch. “I should probably head home, Eddie.”

“Sweetheart its,” he leans to check the time on the microwave, “3 in the morning.”

Your eyes go wide, hands running over your face. “It is? Fuuuuck.”

“Just stay,” Eddie says, walking over to you and wrapping you up in the blanket. You groan, feeling conflicted on if you should stay and sleep on Eddie’s couch or if you should brave the drive home.

“Hey, if you stay, you don’t have to drive all the way over here to get Fae in the morning.”

“Ugh, okay you got me,” you say, giving in. You sit back down on the couch and start to make yourself comfortable.

“Wait, you can sleep in my bed. Promise I don’t bite.”

That took less convincing as you pop back up, dragging the blankets behind you as you wobble to Eddie’s room. Eddie laughs as you plop into his bed, stealing one of his pillows to make yourself comfortable.

“Hey save some room for me,” he says, walking around to the other side to climb in. He lays next to you, adjusting in an obnoxious manner that has you giggling. You turn to face him and he does the same.

“I love you,” you say at the tail end of a giggle. It’s something said frequently between the two of you. Genuine as it’s spoken after years of friendship.

“Love you, too,” Eddie says with a sigh. Sleep soon takes you both over again. The only sounds that can be heard is the sound of the a/c doing its best to cool down the trailer.

Eddie felt himself waking once again, this time much more comfortably in his own bed. He yawned, shaking a bit as the feeling of waking overcame his body.

The sun peaking through the cracks of his curtains gave the room just enough light that he could see the room with a slight glow. Turning his head, he chanced to see if you were still laying with him. He had a dream that you’d left with Autumn and ran away with Steve that left a sick feeling in his stomach.

Much to his delight you were indeed still occupying the bed with him. Smiling wide as you looked at him, already awake where you lay.

“Mornin’,” he says in his morning voice, and your eyes flicker.

“Morning,” you squeak back. As Eddie turns to face you, your hand finds its way out from under the covers and reaches out towards him. Your fingers gently glide across his cheek, rubbing against the stubble as you push his hair out of his face.

The way you’re looking at him has Eddie’s tummy feeling funny, but in a different way from his dream. You’re looking at him the same way he looks at you.

Suddenly, you push yourself up on your arm, hand still on his cheek as you start to lean in once again. Eddie’s heart beats hard against his chest as you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

It lasts a few moments, and Eddie melts into it. It was a kiss like none he’s ever had before. Not even compared to the last time the two of you kissed before Autumn was born. This kiss felt like a hot cup of coffee on a cold winter morning, the warmth spreading to every part of his body as he drank you in.

When you pulled away, Eddie chased after you, not wanting it to end so soon unknowing if it would ever happen again. When you don’t kiss him again, his eyes finally open to meet yours. They’re bouncing everywhere, scanning his face as if looking for an answer written on his skin.

“Eddie…”

But Eddie doesn’t let you ponder much longer, hand snaking around your head to pull you into him once more. This time more feverishly, the heat palpable between the two of you.

You shift so that you can bury your hands in his hair, and Eddie takes advantage of this to move himself above you. Eddie kisses you into the pillow beneath you, long kisses turning into passionate smacking, poking the fire that was burning between you.

“Tell me to stop,” Eddie says as his lips begin to move down your cheek and to your neck. He says your name breathily, “Tell me now, because I won't be able to stop once this starts.”

“I-I can’t. I won’t,” you stutter, hands grabbing at his waist as he kisses and nips at your neck. Eddie breathes against you, body alight knowing that you wanted this as much as him.

“But,” you say, stopping him in his tracks. You give him a coy smile, nodding towards the door. “You better make it quick. You know she’ll wake up at any moment.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “Don’t gotta tell me twice. Better get to work then.”

Eddie suddenly lifts the blanket above the both of you and disappears underneath it. Soft kisses leave a trail from your knees to the apex between them. Eddie slips his fingers in the hem of the sleep pants he let you borrow, pulling them down with your panties in one quick motion. There was barely any light to see, so he decided to just dive in tongue first.

He ate you out like a man starved. Your thighs try hard to wrap around him as he works you up on his tongue, but his strong arms hold you open for him. Eddie groans at the way your fingers grip his hair, tugging just enough to burn so good against his scalp.

Once he added fingers, you had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself quiet. It was like Eddie knew exactly what you liked, because not long after you were coming undone, riding his face as you did.

Eddie crawls up your body, head resting between your breasts as he pokes out from under the covers.

“Jesus, Eddie,” you pant, looking at him in awe.

“And that’s not even the best part,” he teases, making you roll your eyes at him. You grab his face and bring him closer to you, tasting yourself on his lips as you kiss him again.

Eddie rolls his hips subconsciously, and you can feel how hard he is as he grinds against you. You want to say you also forgot how big he was, but it’s something you didn’t want to admit you thought about often.

Your hand travels between you, fingers trailing against his skin as you reach the hem of his boxers. Slipping under it, you feel your way to his hard cock, taking it in your hand to pump him. He whines against your lips, hips moving faster in your grip. You watch with awe struck eyes as his beautiful face contorts in pleasure above you.

“Please,” he pants out as he fucks your hand, “Wanna be inside you. Can I?”

You nod silently, unbelievably turned on by your best friend for the second time now.

He works fast pulling his boxers off quickly, a loud thwaping coming from his cock smacking against his stomach after getting caught on the waistband. Your eyes go wide as you take in his size.

After almost 2 years you’re still shocked at what Eddie Munson is packing. Those dumb ass cheerleaders that picked the bone head jocks over him have no idea what they missed out on.

Eddie settled himself between your legs, spitting on his own cock to get it good and wet before rubbing it in your soaked folds. You had a moment of clarity, realizing that Eddie wasn’t wearing a condom. You opened your mouth to speak, but your words got caught up in a moan as Eddie pushed his way inside of you.

The stretch took your breath away. Eddie seesawed his way into your tight cunt, opening you up on his cock until he was balls deep inside of you. He placed his hands on either hip and started moving, holding you tight as he worked up his pace.

Every thrust felt like too much and not enough at the same time. The constant knocking against your sweet spot had you seeing stars quickly, still worked up from him eating you out. The pretty sounds that Eddie was making wasn’t helping either, but you still had enough mind to shush him so that he wouldn’t wake your daughter.

Eddie’s pace quickens, and he makes the fatal mistake of adding his thumb to the mix. It only throttles you to the edge for a second time this morning. It’s not much longer before your vision goes white, toes curling as your orgasm takes over. It's probably the hardest you’ve cum in a long time.

“Oh, fuck.”

You barely registered Eddie’s words, but you definitely felt the reason behind his curses. Eddie was cumming deep inside you, balls emptying into your pussy as you were still riding out your own orgasm.

In the moment it felt amazing, but the post orgasm bliss left you crashing as you realized the very real situation you were both in.

Eddie felt himself being pushed by you, taking him out of his own high as he stumbled back on his ass. As you open your mouth to speak, Eddie is hit with a wave of deja vu with every word.

“Did you fucking cum in me?” The words came out in slow motion and Eddie’s body broke out in cold sweat.

“I-I’m sorry. I was going to pull out, I just—“

“What? You forgot? Are you kidding me Eddie? Do you not remember what happened the last time?”

Right on cue, your daughter's whines could be heard from across the hall. You sigh, kicking the covers completely away from you and grabbing the pajama pants you had back on.

“Listen, I really am sorry,” Eddie says, looking at you with big, sad eyes. You groan, unable to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that.

“What are we going to do then, Eddie?” You ask him, walking out of his bedroom to get your daughter.

Eddie sits on the bed for a moment and thinks. He knows that you getting pregnant again while Autumn’s only and a half isn't ideal. Not that you being pregnant is ideal anyway, but honestly Eddie wouldn’t be mad about it.

He was so head over heels for both you and Autumn that he doesn’t hate the idea of another person to love is the worst thing. But he’s also not the one doing all the hard work. And if it wasn’t obvious the first time that having a kid wouldn’t fix any problems, then having a second would probably not make much of a difference in your feelings towards him.

The door opens again and Eddie watches as you enter with a squealing toddler on your hip, clearly happy to see both mommy and daddy.

“Morning, sweet girl,” Eddie cooes, scooping his baby up and smothering her with kisses, sending Autumn into a fit of giggles.

“I went ahead and changed her. If you want to dress her I’ll make breakfast.”

Eddie gave you a quick salute as you went to the kitchen, leaving him and your mini me to get ready for the day. It took a lot of wrestling but he was able to get the little one dressed, including hair done, and looking presentable for the day.

Fixing her up in her highchair, Eddie sat at the small kitchen table and breathed a sigh of relief. You shook your head at his theatrics, setting breakfast down for the both of them.

“Hey, I was thinking,” Eddie said, spooning some applesauce into Autumn’s mouth. “After we eat, why don’t I follow you to the pharmacy and we can pick you up a Plan B?”

You quirk an eyebrow in amusement. “You have Plan B money this time?”

“Ha ha,” Eddie laughs dryly at your reference to the last time you had sex, the both of you freaking out over having no money. Thankfully Eddie was able to get a good job at Hawkins Auto Body when you got pregnant. He makes pretty good money now considering he was able to get his own trailer. Money is still tight, but he can manage.

“Fine, better eat up then, or else you’re gonna have two mouths to feed instead of one.”

Eddie looks at your daughter, spitting image of him, besides your nose, and smiles. Maybe now isn’t the right time, but…maybe one day.

[at-this-point-i-dont-even-know]

Lean On Me (Part 1/?)

Pairing: Dr Michael 'Robby" Robinovitch x younger! Langdon's little sister! reader

Reader is the youngest sister to Frank and is called back from Europe to care for her brother.

Warnings: talk about rehab, drug use, casual drinking, slow burn (maybe).

Part Two

You woke with a screaming headache and your phone ringing, the small rectangle vibrating so much it had fallen from your bedside and was halfway under the bed before you had a chance to grab it.

You swear under your breath at the brightness, your hostel room was pitch black as your phone told you it was 2am, just an hour or so after you had stumbled from a nightclub and into your bed. 

“Turn that off.” muttered a voice beside you and you pulled the blanket further up your body. You had forgotten that in the midst of a night of drinking, and dancing you had brought home a ‘guest’.

You don’t bother uttering an apology before getting out of the bed and going to the bathroom and slamming the door shut. Your last hundred euros had gone to this single room in a Hungarian hostel after months of living with ten random strangers, and on your first night you had decided to invite someone back. 

You slam your head back against the closed door and took a deep breath. You’d been in Europe for five months now, any savings you had had left after sorting out your family's drama and almost all of it was gone now between transport and living costs, bar your emergency ‘the world is ending’ fund. 

But this had been your dream once, cut out photos of ancient architecture and historical locations from national geographic magazines had been plastered on your bedroom wall, your locker and phone case, all you had wanted while you worked three jobs and took care of your family was to one day stand in the shadows of castles and cathedrals. So you had used every last dollar to get yourself to Europe, while your friends at home settled into careers, and life.

Your phone buzzed again, pulling you back to the present. 

Your mother was calling.

She had called 15 times according to your cracked phone screen.

Fuck!

“Hi Ma!” you say, as fake cheerfully as you can at 2am after a night of drinking and half an hour of sleep.

“Where have you been! I have been calling for hours!”

Half an hour at most you think to yourself before swallowing a sigh.

“Sorry Ma, it's like 2 am here! What's wrong?”

Your mother huffs and you can almost picture her in the kitchen, cigarette in one hand, a forgotten glass of wine in the other no matter the time of day. 

You do the maths, it's probably around 4pm in Pittsburgh.

 “You need to come home now! It’s your brother.”

Your stomach dropped and your knees buckled. Frank was your big brother, a larger than life figure in your universe, who you had spent many years protecting from your parents, and making sure he had everything he needed to get through life with as little bumps as possible. But in the last few years everything had calmed down on the Frank front, he had gotten married when his girlfriend got pregnant, then another kid had come quickly after that. He had gotten his residency at the local hospital in the town they had grown up in. He had his life on the right track.

“What-” you try to ask for more information but you can’t breath, you can’t stand any longer and the cool, very gross tiles on the hostel bathroom felt like heaven against your now clammy skin.

“Rehab, they sent him to rehab!” 

“What for?”

And with one word your world fell apart and you were back on a plane.

Drugs.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It should be illegal for the sun to shine so brightly when you have no time to appreciate it. Pittsburgh had decided to pull out all the stops for a beautiful day, the sun was shining, there were birds singing in the trees and even a butterfly had landed on your jacket as you rushed from Frank's apartment to the rehabilitation facility. 

The only dampening thing about the day was you, as you huffed at the butterfly and sent glaring looks at anyone who tried to make small talk as you waited for the bus, then walked the additional mile from the stop to the door. Your mood was foul and your temper worse.

At 29 years of age you were officially feeling like an old curmudgeon, and after spending the majority of your life looking after your parents and brother, you had thought yourself finally free from their shackles but it had taken one phone call and one overdrawn charge on your credit card to find yourself once again at the mercy of your family.

You tried to remind yourself daily that it wasn’t Frank's fault, addiction is a disease, and one with no real cure.  But it’s hard to do that after two weeks filled with appointments with his therapists, his counsellors and then a stilted dinner last night with his apparently ex-wife and kids which ended up with you getting a puppy dumped in your lap.

The said puppy then spent all night crying on your pillow before peeing in your still unpacked suitcase.

The said peeing in the suitcase meant you were now wearing yesterday's underwear which you had washed in the sink, and one of Frank's shirts, which was tiny on your larger frame, the word PITTSBURGH now stretch tight over your tits.

The rehab facility was nice, a modern building amongst turn of the last century offices. You walked past it twice on the first day, it blended it well to the built up area. 

You had wanted to send Frank to a rehabilitation centre further out of town, somewhere with a big garden, but between the three credit cards you had taken out and the very last of your emergency ‘the world is ending’ funds, an inner city place was the best you could get.

In your brother's defense he hadn’t complained about the location or the facilities, instead on his good days he spent most of his time trying his best to be positive about the whole thing. On his bad days, the location was the last thing he cared about, he just wanted to scream and throw things at you when you refused to let him leave.

Frank wasn’t in his room when you got there, and you knew he didn’t have group therapy or a one on one session this afternoon so you wandered from room to room, looking for him, smiling at the nurses and orderlies that now knew you by name. 

You located Frank in the back common room, hunched over a table with a stranger, a game of chess half played between them.

You couldn’t hear what was being said but you could see the tension in your brother's shoulders and your stomach dropped. 

It was going to be a bad day.

Great.

“Hey Frank.” 

He looks at you as you approach, as does the stranger who offers you a weak smile with sad eyes. You get a lot of sad eyes thrown your way nowadays, from the nurses at the centre to Frank's neighbours who know why you are there and he is not.

“What do you want?” your brother asks, venom lacing each word.

“Just come to say hi, and see if you want a game but it looks like you have company.” you hate how small your voice sounds.

The stranger gets up from the chair and gestures to you to take his place but you shake your head.

“I don’t want you here, I told you that yesterday.” Frank hissed through his teeth, his attention back at the chessboard as his fingers tapped against the plastic chess set, “Go back to fucking around Europe or whatever.”

He had said the same thing yesterday morning, but after a counselling session with Frank's doctors you were told to ignore what he says in anger and to reach out with him daily, if possible, he has to know that his family is with him and that he has the support from them, no matter what.

You were also told to try and prioritise your own mental health when you can, but who has time for that.

So you returned, as you would every day, until he was out of the facility. You would then live with him, supervising visits with him and the children and then get him back to work. 

You took care of your family, you had since you were thirteen years old. 

“Just thought I would come anyway,” you said cheerfully, “I baked cookies last night and they are chocolate chips, your favourite.” it was a complete lie, you had bought them from the shops and decanted them into tupperware containers last night. 

Frank just ignored you and the tupperware you placed on the table, just playing his move and then gesturing for the other man to play on.

But the stranger couldn’t stop staring at you, he was handsome in an older man way with a well kept beard and brown hair that looked like it was due for a trim. Dressed in a hoodie and well worn jeans, he looked like someone you would swipe right on, if you had the time to get back on the apps.

But you didn't and the way he was looking you up and down was unnerving especially as your brother ignores you and wishes to continue with his game.

A lump forms in your throat and you feel panic rising in your chest as you sit there watching your brother continue to ignore you. The stranger kept staring even as it was his turn to play. And you'd just sit there waiting for Frank to say something, do something to acknowledge your existence. 

Until you can't take it anymore.

"I guess I'll go, Frank, and I'll see you tomorrow." your words come out stilted and with almost no emotion. 

He made a rude gesture with his hand before you grabbed your bag and left. 

You're outside the rehabilitation centre before you even know it, and suddenly you wash with emotion. Everything hurts, your body, your head, your heart as you fall to the floor and cry, heaving as the thought of leaving your brother there another day rips into you. He was your Big Brother and you were meant to protect him. That is what you were told since you were a child. And he was the one who was so smart and going to go places and you were nothing but his kid sister.

You couldn't blame Frank for this moment of weakness, of the disease that was ripping through his life, ending his career, his marriage and any relationship he has at the current point with his children. You couldn’t even blame your parents. Your dad for his own alcoholism, your mom for her own absent mindedness, for both of your parents only thinking of the potential of one of their two children. You cannot blame anybody, but you wished you could at that moment. 

You are thankful that it was only 11.00am on a weekday. There were little to no people on the streets to witness your breakdown as you let all the emotions out of your body, tears streaming down your face, your mascara completely ruined. 

Suddenly a hand grabs onto your shoulder and pulls you out of the mania, your tear filled eyes meet big sad brown eyes. 

The stranger had followed you outside. 

“I never introduced myself,” he said. His voice was like honey. He pulled a tissue packet from the pocket of his jeans. You blow your nose ungracefully, cringing internally at the noise, "I'm Doctor Michael Robinovitch."

He put out his hand to shake yours and you took it, too stunned to say anything else. The Stranger- No- Dr Robinovitch continues to stare, the big brown eyes looking into your soul as you both stand awkwardly outside the rehab center, no one knowing what to say. He then smiles and asks “Do you want to get a cup of coffee?”

[pandapetals]

Healing

Something shifts in you after Jean and Scott have their baby making you wonder if you and Logan should have kids.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair, trying for a baby, angst, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of blood, triggering topics, self-loathing, healing

a/n: been sitting on this one for a while. Not going to lie this fucking hurt to write. I cried so much. I have never been through this but i know a few people who have and i can’t even imagine the pain and strength they have.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

Jean beamed, her face glowing with a soft pride, as she held her baby boy close. His tiny hands curled around the fabric of her shirt, his chubby face peaceful as he dozed off in her arms. Over the past few months, you’d watched him grow from a fragile newborn, all soft whimpers and sleepy eyes, into a curious, squirming infant. It seemed like only yesterday he was swaddled and still, but now here he was, wide-eyed and alert to the world.

Scott stood beside Jean, his posture softer than usual, his typically intense gaze almost watery as he watched her gently rock their son. He looked at them both like they were the center of his universe. A quiet awe in his expression that made something tighten in your chest.

"He’s so precious," you said quietly, unable to tear your eyes away from the little family in front of you. The warmth between them radiated out, a kind of contentment that was hard to describe but impossible to miss.

Jean glanced up at you with a knowing smile, one that made you feel as though she could read you like an open book. "He is, isn’t he?" she said, her eyes sparkling. Then, almost without thinking, she added, "Makes you wanna have one, I bet?"

The words hung in the air for a second too long, and you felt your breath catch, an awkward chuckle slipping out before you could stop it. "Oh, kids aren’t really my thing," you blurted, your voice a little too quick, a little too high. "I mean, I love kids—who doesn’t—but, me... well..."

You trailed off as both Jean and Scott turned toward you, exchanging a quick, subtle glance. Their expressions were a mix of curiosity and mild confusion, like they hadn’t expected that answer, like maybe they were wondering why someone like you—someone married to Logan, no less—would feel that way.

The truth was, you’d never really discussed it. Not in depth. Sure, it had come up in passing a few times, but it was one of those conversations that lingered at the edges of your relationship, something neither of you had pushed too hard to figure out. Logan, with all his complications and dark past, never really seemed the type to want a family. And you? You weren’t sure if you did, either. It was easier not to think about it, to enjoy the life you had now—the two of you, perfectly in sync, no added weight of expectation.

But something had shifted recently. Maybe it was watching Jean and Scott, the way they orbited around their son like he was their entire world. Or maybe it was something deeper you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel until now.

"Do you want to hold him?" Scott asked, his voice gentle, trying to break the tension he had sensed creeping in.

You shook your head quickly, hands coming up in protest. "No, it’s fine, really—"

Before you could finish the thought, Jean was already moving, carefully transferring her sleeping son into your arms. You froze for a moment, a rush of panic flooding through you as the small, warm weight of the baby settled against your chest.

"There you go," Jean said softly, stepping back with a smile.

For a heartbeat, you felt a strange rush of anxiety—what if he started crying? What if you held him wrong? As the baby squirmed lightly against you, something softened inside. His small face scrunched up for a moment, but he didn’t stir, and before you knew it, the panic eased into something warmer, something you weren’t sure you were ready to name yet.

"You’re a natural," Jean whispered, her smile widening as she watched you gently cradle her son.

You glanced down at the tiny face, his soft breathing rising and falling steadily, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away. There was something so... peaceful about it. The weight of him in your arms, the delicate rise and fall of his chest. It was calming in a way you hadn’t expected. Your mind drifted, just for a second, imagining what it would be like to have a child of your own, one that looked up at you with Logan’s piercing eyes, with his stubbornness and strength.

The thought caught you off guard, making your chest tighten. You had always been so certain that kids weren’t part of the plan, or at least, that’s what you told yourself. Now with this small life cradled in your arms, you weren’t so sure.

Logan’s low, familiar voice broke through your thoughts. "There you are," he muttered, stepping into the room. His eyes softened immediately when he saw you holding the baby, though he tried to hide it behind his usual gruff expression. "Didn’t know I was married to a babysitter now."

You smirked, though your heart was racing a little. "Jean practically forced me."

Logan grunted in response, but there was a subtle shift in his expression as he watched you. His eyes lingered on the baby for a moment longer than usual, and you could see something flicker there. He stepped closer, his hand gently resting on your lower back, warm and reassuring.

"Doesn’t look like you mind too much," he said, his voice softer than usual, his eyes meeting yours.

You shrugged, feeling the baby shift slightly in your arms. "It’s... nice," you admitted quietly, surprising even yourself with the truth of it. "Holding him, I mean."

Logan didn’t say anything right away, but you could feel him studying you, the way he always did when he was thinking something over. Finally, he nodded toward the baby, his voice low. "You look good like that."

You blinked, caught off guard. "Like what?"

His eyes dropped to the baby in your arms before meeting yours again. "Holdin’ him," Logan said quietly, his voice rough but filled with something more. "You look... happy."

You smiled, but there was a knot forming in your chest now, a new kind of weight pressing down. You couldn’t shake the image from your mind—Logan, holding a baby of your own, the two of you together as parents. It wasn’t something you had let yourself picture before, but now that it was there, you couldn’t unsee it.

Later that day, as you watched Logan outside, talking to Jubilee with that soft, fatherly look he sometimes wore, it hit you again. The way he was with her, with Rogue or the younger kids at the mansion—it was so natural, so instinctive. He had this way of guiding them, protecting them, even if he’d never admit it out loud.

You started to wonder if maybe Logan would make an incredible father. As much as you tried to deny it, the thought made your heart ache.

When Logan caught you watching him, he smirked as his eyebrow raised in curiosity. "What’re you lookin’ at?"

You shook your head, smiling softly. "Just you."

Logan came closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, his usual smirk softening. "Yeah?" he murmured. "What’s that look for?"

You hesitated, biting your lip. "Just... thinking."

"‘Bout what?"

You glanced up at him, your eyes searching his, and for the first time in a while, you didn’t brush the thought aside. "Logan," you started softly, your voice unsure but steady, "have you ever thought about... having kids?"

Logan’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the question. He was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowing as he considered your words. Then, after what felt like forever, he sighed softly, pulling you a little closer. "I dunno," he admitted quietly, his voice rough. "Never thought I’d be good at it. But... maybe." His gaze met yours, something unspoken lingering between you. "What about you?"

You swallowed, your heart pounding. "I think... maybe I’m starting to."

Logan didn’t say anything, but his hand slipped into yours, his calloused fingers curling around yours. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his silence saying more than words could at that moment.

𓂃

In the days that followed, you couldn’t shake the thought from your mind. It was as if a switch had flipped inside you, and now you were noticing every little thing Logan did—the way he spoke softly to one of his students who was struggling, the way he offered a stern but patient lecture to one of the kids running down the hallway, his voice rough with that familiar gruffness but still carrying a warmth that hinted at something deeper. Every time, your heart tightened, as though it was trying to tell you something you hadn’t quite figured out yet.

The idea of having kids had never seemed urgent. It was like a vague notion floating somewhere in the distance, something other people did after getting married. For you and Logan, it hadn’t felt like a natural progression. You liked your life the way it was—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. Lazy evenings spent tangled up on the couch, quiet mornings with coffee and teasing banter, spontaneous trips to the city where you wandered hand-in-hand without any real plan.

Now, with every small act of kindness, you saw Logan show, you couldn’t help but imagine him as a father…and it scared you.

The thought of having a child felt like a seismic shift—one that would change the landscape of everything you loved. It wasn’t just about the sleepless nights or the endless responsibilities. It was deeper than that. You worried that the closeness you shared with Logan, the way your lives intertwined so effortlessly, would somehow slip away. That all the little moments you cherished would be replaced by the constant demands of a tiny person who needed everything from you, leaving little room for the quiet intimacy you had now.

Most of all, you worried that your love for each other would get... lost. That Logan, with all his quiet strength and unspoken fears, would pull away when faced with the weight of fatherhood.

It was late one evening, the two of you curled up in bed, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of the lamp on the nightstand. Logan was lying on his back, one arm behind his head, the other draped over you, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on your shoulder. You were nestled against his side, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, but your thoughts were racing.

You hesitated before speaking, your voice barely above a whisper. "Logan," you began, your tone uncertain. "Can I ask you something?"

He tilted his head slightly, looking down at you with those piercing hazel eyes, his expression softening as he nodded. "Always," he said quietly.

You swallowed, trying to find the right words. "Do you ever... do you ever feel like we might lose what we have if things change?"

Logan’s brow furrowed slightly, a hint of concern in his eyes. "What do you mean, darlin'?" His voice was low like he was afraid to push too hard.

You took a deep breath, your fingers absently tracing the outline of his chest. "I mean, if we had a kid," you whispered, the words feeling strange on your tongue. "If we became parents… I’m worried that we’d lose... us. The way things are now."

Logan was silent for a moment, his hand stilling on your shoulder as he considered your words. "You think a kid would take that away?" he asked, his voice gruff but gentle.

"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "I just—everything would be different. We wouldn’t have these quiet nights or our spontaneous trips. We’d have to give up a lot." You paused, feeling the weight of your confession settle between you. "I’m scared that I won’t have as much time for you. Or that… you’d pull away."

Logan’s gaze softened, a deep sigh escaping him as he pulled you closer, his arm tightening around your shoulders. "I get it," he murmured. "I’m not gonna lie, I’ve thought about that too." He hesitated, his eyes drifting to the ceiling for a moment before returning to yours. "Hell, I’m scared of a lot of things when it comes to havin’ a kid. What if I’m no good at it? What if I… pass on the worst parts of me? All the anger, the darkness?"

You reached up, your hand cupping his jaw as you turned his face toward you. "You wouldn’t," you said firmly, meeting his gaze with unwavering certainty. "You’re more than that, Logan. So much more."

He looked at you, his expression raw. "I try to be," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "But there’s a lotta things I can’t control. And I don’t know if I’d be any good at raisin’ a kid. I’ve spent most of my life tryin’ to protect people by keepin’ ‘em at arm’s length. How do I protect someone I can’t keep away from everything bad in the world?"

His words sank into you, and you could see the fear in his eyes, the way his past haunted him in a way that was hard to put into words. It wasn’t just about fatherhood—it was about feeling worthy of it. Of deserving that kind of joy.

"You protect me," you whispered, your thumb gently stroking his cheek. "Every day. And you do it without keeping me at a distance. You let me in, Logan. That’s not easy, but you did it. You do it. And if you can do that, then I think you’d make a great father."

Logan’s eyes searched yours, his breath hitching slightly as your words settled in. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there like he was drawing strength from the contact. "I’m not sure I deserve you sayin’ that," he murmured against your skin. "But it means more than you know."

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your hand slipping down to rest over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm beneath your touch. "I’m scared too," you confessed. "I’m scared of everything changing, and of not being able to handle it. But I’m also scared of… what if we don’t even try? What if we let fear decide for us?"

Logan’s expression softened, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles as he held your hand. "If we do this," he said, his voice low and steady, "we do it together. No matter what. It won’t always be easy, but…" He hesitated, his voice breaking just slightly. "I’d rather face that with you than spend the rest of my life wonderin' if we shoulda tried."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and suddenly, the idea didn’t seem as overwhelming as it had before. It was still scary, yes, but knowing that Logan was just as unsure, just as scared, made it feel more... real.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, letting it linger, your fingers curling into his hair as you drew him closer. "So… we're gonna try for a baby?" you whispered, the words slipping out softly.

Logan’s arms tightened around you like he was anchoring himself to the moment. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours with a mix of uncertainty and quiet determination. There was a heartbeat of silence before he nodded. "Yeah," he murmured, the sound almost lost in the space between you. Then, with more conviction, he added, "Yeah, why the hell not." His lips curved into a small, genuine smile.

𓂃

Trying for a baby had started out exciting—a new chapter to explore with Logan. You’d always had an active and passionate sex life, and the thought of intentionally building a family together made your heart swell. 

It wasn’t the act of trying that was hard—it was the waiting, the endless cycle of hope and disappointment. You had been so sure, so confident at the start. But now, after months of trying and nothing to show for it, doubt had begun to creep in like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

Standing by the window in the quiet library, you stared out at the sprawling gardens, but your gaze was unfocused. Your mind was too busy unraveling itself. Why hadn’t it happened yet? Was it you? Was something wrong with you?

Your thoughts drifted back to the last four years of marriage with Logan. You couldn’t help but wonder why you hadn’t gotten pregnant sooner, even by accident. Not once had there been a scare, not even a close call. The questions swirled in your mind, each one more suffocating than the last. Was it my body? Did I do something wrong? Am I broken?

“Hey.” Logan’s familiar voice broke through the haze. You hadn’t even heard him enter the room.

You felt the warmth of his arm as he wrapped it around your shoulders, his touch gentle, steady. “What’s wrong, darlin’?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

You stiffened slightly, shrugging his arm off and taking a small step away. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” you whispered, your gaze still fixed on the window.

Logan hesitated. He wasn’t the type to push when you didn’t want to talk, but this—this distance, the way you’d been pulling away lately—was starting to worry him. He could see the weight you were carrying, the exhaustion etched into your face, even though you tried to hide it behind small smiles and quick deflections.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice almost a plea, “you don’t have to talk to me if you’re not ready. But… you gotta talk to someone. You can’t carry this by yourself.”

His words broke something loose in you, and you bit your lip hard to keep it from trembling. A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. “I just don’t understand,” you finally said, your voice cracking. “I thought I’d be pregnant by now. I thought it’d be easy… but it’s not, and I can’t stop feeling like—”

“Like what?” Logan pressed gently, stepping closer but keeping his distance enough to not crowd you.

“Like a failure,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy leaving your mouth, as if speaking them made them more real.

Logan’s expression softened instantly, his brow furrowing with a mix of concern and heartache. “Darlin’,” he said quietly, closing the gap between you and gently cupping your face in his hands. He tilted your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“You listen to me,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “You’re not a failure. Not even close. Don’t you dare think that.”

“But, Logan,” you choked out, your tears now spilling freely. “What if it’s me? What if there’s something wrong with me? You deserve someone who—”

“Stop,” he interrupted firmly. His thumbs brushed the tears from your cheeks, his hazel eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t put all this blame on you. We don’t know why it hasn’t happened yet, but it sure as hell isn’t because you’re not enough. You’re everything to me.”

Your knees felt weak at the raw sincerity in his voice, and you leaned into his touch, letting his warmth hold you together. “I just… I don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Logan pulled you into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel shielded from the weight of the world. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmured into your hair. “Together. However long it takes, whatever we have to do—we’ll figure it out. But I need you to promise me somethin’, okay?”

“What?” you asked, your voice muffled against his chest.

“Promise me you’ll stop beatin’ yourself up over this. You’re not weak, darlin’. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. And if this doesn’t happen the way we planned, it doesn’t change a damn thing about how much I love you.”

His words wrapped around your heart like a warm blanket, soothing the ache that had been gnawing at you for weeks. You tilted your head back to look at him, your hands resting on his chest. “You always know what to say,” you whispered, a faint, watery smile tugging at your lips.

He gave you a small, lopsided grin, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Guess I’ve got a good reason to.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a flicker of hope reignite in your chest. “You know, sometimes I wonder if this is harder on you than you let on,” you said softly.

Logan hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before he looked back at you. “It’s hard,” he admitted. “But not because of me. It’s hard seein’ you like this. You’ve always been the one who makes things feel right, and I hate seein’ you doubt yourself.”

Your heart swelled at his honesty, and you leaned up to press a soft kiss to his knuckles. “I love you so much, Logan. No matter what happens, I’m just glad I have you by my side.”

His hazel eyes softened, and he pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you more, darlin’. We’re in this together, okay?”

You nodded, letting the warmth of his embrace settle over you like a safety net. The quiet hum of the library wrapped around you both, cocooning the moment in a kind of stillness you hadn’t felt in weeks.

𓂃

It was a few weeks later, and life had settled back into its usual rhythm—teaching classes, grading papers, and the occasional chaos that came with living in a mansion full of mutants. But something was… different. At first, you didn’t think much of it. Everyone felt off sometimes, right?

The fatigue came first. You yawned at least five times during one of your lectures, earning amused glances from your students. “Long night, Professor?” one of them teased, and you waved it off with a laugh, though you were secretly confused. You’d gone to bed early the night before, and yet you still felt like you could curl up under your desk and sleep for hours.

Then, there was lunch. Your usual favorite—whatever Logan had grilled up the night before—suddenly turned your stomach. The smell alone had you rushing out of the dining hall, your hand clamped over your mouth as you tried to breathe through the nausea. Jean had given you a concerned look, but you waved her off, blaming it on some "bad leftovers."

By the third day of these strange symptoms, you couldn’t ignore them anymore. Your mind began to piece things together— the fatigue, the nausea, the way your favorite coffee suddenly tasted too bitter to drink. A flicker of hope sparked in your chest, but you tried to push it down. Don’t get ahead of yourself, you told yourself. It could be anything.

Still, the thought wouldn’t leave you alone. That night, after Logan had gone to bed, you slipped out of your shared room and quietly headed to the mansion’s lab. You grabbed a pregnancy test, your hands trembling slightly as you tucked it under your arm and snuck back to the bathroom.

What if it’s negative again? What if this hope I’ve been holding onto is just… nothing?

But then, something shifted. A small voice in the back of your mind reminded you of Logan’s words. We’re in this together.

Finally, you took a deep breath and glanced down at the test. Your heart stopped.

Two lines.

Tears welled in your eyes, your hand flying to your mouth as a soft, disbelieving laugh escaped you. Positive. You were pregnant.

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at the test as joy bloomed in your chest, spreading through you like sunlight breaking through clouds. The months of waiting, of disappointment, of wondering if it would ever happen—all of it melted away in that instant.

You couldn’t wait to tell Logan. He deserved to know right away. But you wanted it to be special, something he’d never forget.

The next morning, you woke up earlier than usual, your excitement too much to keep contained. While Logan was still asleep, you snuck into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for supplies. If there was one thing Logan loved as much as you, it was breakfast—specifically pancakes.

You whipped up a batch, taking extra care to shape them into letters. The smell of warm batter filled the air, and you couldn’t help but smile as you arranged the pancakes on a large plate, spelling out: You’re going to be a dad.

By the time Logan wandered into the kitchen, his hair sticking up in every direction and his usual gruff morning expression on full display, you were practically bouncing on your toes.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he headed for the coffee maker.

“Morning,” you chirped, barely containing your excitement.

He turned, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. “What’s got you so chipper this early?”

You gestured to the table, where the plate of pancakes sat waiting. “I made you breakfast.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly suspicious as he stepped closer. But the moment his eyes landed on the pancakes, his entire body stilled.

His gaze moved slowly over the words, his expression unreadable at first. Then, his eyes shot up to meet yours, wide and filled with a mixture of disbelief and hope. “Darlin’… are you serious?”

You nodded, tears brimming in your eyes as you whispered, “Logan, we’re going to have a baby.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, he let out a shaky breath, a hand running through his hair as he took a step toward you. “You mean it? You’re… we’re…”

You smiled, nodding again as tears slipped down your cheeks. “Yes. It’s real.”

Logan’s arms were around you in an instant, pulling you tightly against his chest. You felt his body tremble slightly as he held you, his face buried in your neck. “I don’t even know what to say,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered, your fingers tangling in his hair. “Just… be here with me. That’s all I need.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hazel eyes shining with a rare vulnerability. “I never thought I’d get to have this,” he said softly. “A family. You’ve given me more than I ever thought I deserved.”

You cupped his face, your thumbs brushing away the tears that had slipped from his eyes. “You deserve everything, Logan. And I can’t wait to do this with you.”

A soft, genuine smile curved his lips as he leaned down, capturing yours in a kiss. His hand cradled your cheek, his touch warm. When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead lightly against yours. 

Logan’s gaze flickered downward, his expression softening even more as his roughened hand moved to rest on your stomach. His palm was warm against you, and for a moment, he seemed almost in awe, his thumb brushing gently over the fabric of your shirt.

A chuckle rumbled through him, deep and affectionate. “Things are about to get a whole lot more interesting,” he murmured, his voice carrying both wonder and a touch of that familiar, teasing tone.

Your lips curved into a smile as you rested your hand over his, fingers threading together as your eyes followed his gaze to where your hands now lay. “Yeah,” you whispered, the word carrying a quiet awe of your own. “They really are.”

The world outside the kitchen faded away as you both stood there, the enormity of what was to come settling in. Logan’s thumb idly traced circles over the back of your hand, his expression a mix of pride, love, and something almost boyish—like he couldn’t quite believe this was real.

“You know,” he said softly, his eyes lifting to meet yours, hazel and filled with an emotion so raw it made your breath catch, “I’m not sure how we’re gonna do this, but… I can’t wait to figure it out with you.”

Your chest tightened, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you held his gaze, your hand squeezing his. “We’ll figure it out,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly but full of certainty. “Together. Like we always do.”

Unable to resist, you leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, your arms slipping around his waist. He held you close, his hand still protectively resting on your stomach as the other wrapped firmly around your back.

“You’re gonna be a great dad,” you murmured into his chest.

Logan let out a low, soft laugh, his chin brushing the top of your head as he pressed a kiss there. “I’ll try, sweetheart,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with emotion. “But with you beside me… I think I might just figure it out.”

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes again, a tear slipping free but your smile unwavering. “You already have,” you said softly, your fingers gently brushing along his jaw.

𓂃

Everything was going great—or, well, as great as could be expected when you were juggling teaching, mutant chaos, and the excitement of being newly pregnant. You’d gone to the doctor for a check-up, double-checking everything was on track, and Logan had been, well… different.

Attentive wasn’t even the right word for it. Logan had turned into an overprotective force of nature. He refused to let you lift anything heavier than a book, shot you a look of warning anytime you so much as bent down, and always seemed to be hovering nearby like he thought the baby might need saving from a falling bookshelf or something.

Not that you minded. In fact, you found it… sweet. Especially when his rough hands would slide under your shirt at the end of the day, his palms brushing over your barely-there bump as if he could somehow connect with the life growing inside you. The way he looked at you—at both of you—made your heart feel like it might burst.

But of course, Logan's changed behavior didn’t go unnoticed.

You and Logan stood outside on the mansion’s back patio, enjoying a rare moment of peace. The fresh air wrapped around you like a soft blanket, and you leaned back into his chest as his hands gently rested on your stomach, his thumbs absentmindedly brushing little circles there.

“I like that it’s just between us,” Logan murmured into your ear, his lips grazing the shell of it as his arms tightened around you.

You hummed in agreement, resting your hands over his. “Me too, but… we can’t hide it forever, you know.”

Logan chuckled low and warm, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Pretty sure Chuck already knows,” he muttered, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk. “And Jean. She’s probably just sittin’ on it, waitin’ for you to spill.”

You tilted your head back to glance at him, a knowing grin on your face. “Oh, she’s definitely sitting on it. Jean loves a good secret almost as much as she loves saying, ‘I told you so.’”

He grunted in agreement, lowering his head to press a soft kiss to the side of your neck. “If you wanna tell everyone, darlin’, just say the word. I’ll follow your lead.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as his lips trailed down your neck in a way that made you forget about anything other than the warmth of his embrace. “Should we do something special? Oh! What if—”

“Is there any place you two won’t get freaky in?”

The voice startled you both, and Logan quickly yanked your shirt back down as you peeked over his shoulder to see Scott and Ororo walking toward you. Ororo had a toolbox in hand, presumably for the greenhouse, and Scott, as usual, was looking far too amused for his own good.

You burst into laughter, unable to help yourself. “We were just—”

“Just about two seconds from Logan ripping your clothes off,” Scott interrupted with a smirk.

Logan shot him a glare, his arms still loosely wrapped around you. “I was not,” he growled, though the faintest hint of pink dusted his cheeks.

You grinned, turning in Logan’s hold to face them. “We were enjoying the fresh air, Summers. You should try it sometime. Might do wonders for your sunny personality.”

Scott rolled his eyes, but his expression grew suspicious as he glanced between you and Logan. “Something’s… different.”

“Yeah,” Ororo chimed in, narrowing her eyes at Logan. “He’s not acting like himself. He didn’t even make a sarcastic remark about Scott interrupting his make-out session.”

Logan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to will away their nonsense. “I’m right here, you know.”

Ororo gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “No witty remark again? What in the world is happening? Is Logan… soft now?”

Scott snorted, crossing his arms. “What’s next? Is Logan volunteering to help with art class? Baking cookies for the kids?”

You bit back a laugh, looking up at Logan with mock seriousness. “You have been oddly chipper lately. You’re not sneakin’ cookies out of the kitchen again, are you?”

Logan shot you a look, though the faintest twitch of a smirk betrayed him. “Real funny, sweetheart.”

“Actually,” Ororo interjected, her eyes narrowing in playful suspicion, “maybe it’s not the cookies. Maybe you’re the reason Logan’s gone all soft and smiley.”

Scott’s eyebrows shot up, his lips curving into a sly grin. “Ohhhh, I think ‘Ro’s onto something. Spill it, you two. What are you hiding?”

Logan sighed, running a hand down his face as he grumbled, “Can’t a guy just be happy without you nosy lot diggin’ into it?”

Ororo and Scott exchanged knowing looks, but before they could press further, you took pity on Logan and looped your arms around his waist. “Honestly, I think Logan’s just been spending too much time with you two,” you teased. “It’s rubbing off on him. Maybe we should keep our distance, huh?”

Scott chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. Whatever’s going on, I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Logan muttered, shooting Scott a glare as he led you back toward the mansion.

Once you were out of earshot, you rose up on your toes, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Well, that went… better than expected. Look at you, handling things so maturely.”

Logan glanced down at you, his signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, sweetheart,” he drawled, his tone low and teasing. “I’ve still got plenty of gruff left in me.”

“Oh, I know,” you quipped, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as you leaned into him. “But maybe you should save a little of that charm to keep them from growing even more suspicious. You’re practically glowing, Logan.”

He huffed a soft laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest as his fingers brushed absentmindedly over your stomach. “So, let me get this straight—you’re tellin’ me to be grumpy? Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

You grinned, nudging him with your elbow. “Hey, mister, I love you and all your grumpiness. You can’t just go soft on me because we’re having a baby.”

His lips twitched, but he wasn’t listening anymore. His gaze had shifted, fixating on your stomach with a quiet intensity, like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you—and the life you were carrying. His fingers stilled, brushing softly over the fabric of your shirt as if he could feel the baby beneath it.

“Logan,” you said, trying to stifle a smile as you reached up to cup his jaw. You tilted his face back up toward yours, catching his hazel eyes. “Eyes up here, tough guy.”

He blinked, snapping out of his daze, though his lips curved into a sheepish smirk. “Can’t help it,” he muttered, his voice softer now. “Kinda hard to believe, ya know? That it’s… really happening.”

Your heart squeezed, and you ran your thumb gently along the scruff of his jaw. “It’s happening,” you murmured, your voice tender. “And you’re already doing so much. You’re gonna be the best dad, Logan. I know it.”

His hand slipped up from your stomach to rest against your hip, grounding himself in your touch. “Dunno about the best,” he said, his voice low and raw, “but I’m sure as hell gonna try. For you. For them.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Instead, you leaned up, brushing your lips softly against his. “You’ve got nothing to prove, you know,” you whispered against his mouth. “You’re already everything we need.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a moment, just let his forehead rest against yours as he closed his eyes. His hand found its way back to your stomach, resting there protectively. “You make this gruff old guy believe in things he never thought he’d have,” he finally murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

“Good,” you replied with a small smile, threading your fingers through his. “Because we’re not going anywhere, Logan. You’ve got us—gruffness and all.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple before wrapping his arm around you and guiding you back toward the mansion. “Guess I better start practicing my grumpy dad voice, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you teased, leaning into him as the warmth of his presence surrounded you. “You’ve got a reputation to maintain, after all.”

𓂃

A few days later, you stood in front of your class, pacing slowly as you explained the finer points of literary symbolism. Your voice was steady, your gestures fluid, but the dull ache in your lower back that had been nagging you all morning suddenly sharpened, sending a jolt of pain through your abdomen.

You froze mid-sentence, your breath hitching, one hand instinctively moving to your stomach.

“Mrs. Howlett?” a girl in the front row asked hesitantly, her wide eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

You forced a smile, straightening up despite the discomfort clawing its way through you. “I’m fine,” you replied, your voice gentle but strained. “Just… give me a moment.”

The room felt too warm, the air heavy, and the students’ curious gazes only amplified your unease. You gripped the edge of your desk to steady yourself, taking a slow breath.

“Claire,” you said, turning to the girl who had spoken up, your tone soft but firm. “Can you keep an eye on the class for a few minutes? I’ll be right back.”

She nodded quickly, her concern etched into her features, and you grabbed your bag, clutching it tightly as you made your way to the door.

The hallway felt endless as you walked, the sharp pain twisting in your abdomen with every step. You tried to focus on your breathing, on the soft click of your shoes against the tiled floor, but panic was starting to creep into your mind.

By the time you reached the bathroom, your hands were trembling. You pushed the door open, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow as you stumbled toward the sink. The pain was intensifying, and a sense of dread settled heavily in your chest.

The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you echoed in the silence, but you barely heard it over the pounding in your ears. Something was wrong—very wrong. Your hands trembled as you stumbled into a stall, the sharp pain in your abdomen making it hard to catch your breath.

You fumbled with the clasp of your bag, searching desperately for aspirin, though deep down, you knew no pill was going to fix this. Then you felt it—a warm, wet sensation and your heart plummeted.

“No, no, no…” you whispered, your voice cracking as you yanked open the bathroom stall door and hurried to the sink.

With shaky hands, you splashed cold water on your face, trying to calm your racing thoughts. But when you glanced down and saw the crimson staining your pants, the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

Panic clawed at your chest, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “Please, no… please…” Tears blurred your vision as you stumbled back, your legs giving out beneath you. You crumpled to the bathroom floor, clutching your stomach as sobs wracked your body.

This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be.

In the hallway, Logan was walking back to his classroom after helping a student with a project. He’d been in a surprisingly light mood—until he heard it. The sound of your sobbing carried faintly down the corridor, and his entire body tensed.

He broke into a sprint, following the sound to the bathroom door.

“Darlin’, you in there?” His voice was urgent. The sound of his voice only made you cry harder. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, couldn’t find the strength to tell him what was happening.

Logan didn’t wait for an answer. He pushed open the bathroom door, and the sight before him made his heart stop.

You were curled up on the floor, your arms wrapped tightly around your stomach as you sobbed uncontrollably. The crimson streaks on the tiles told him everything he needed to know.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, his voice breaking as he rushed to your side. He dropped to his knees beside you, his hands hovering over you like he wasn’t sure where to touch without hurting you further.

You looked up at him, your tear-streaked face filled with anguish. “Logan… I think—I think we lost—”

Your words dissolved into a fresh wave of sobs, and Logan’s chest ached with the weight of your pain. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest, holding you as if he could shield you from the cruel reality of what was happening.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m here, darlin’. I’ve got you.”

You clung to him, your fists gripping his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you from completely falling apart. Logan’s hand found its way to your hair, stroking it gently as he rocked you back and forth.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “Do you hear me? It’s not your fault. Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.”

“I… I wanted this so badly,” you choked out between sobs, your face buried in his chest. “I wanted this for us, Logan. And now it’s… it’s gone.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He hated how powerless he felt—how he couldn’t fix this for you, couldn’t take away your pain.

He gently scooped you up into his arms, cradling you like you were the most precious thing in the world. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Let’s get you outta here.”

You buried your face against his neck, your tears soaking into his shirt as he carried you down the hallway. Logan’s usual gruffness was gone, replaced by a quiet, tender resolve to be whatever you needed him to be at this moment.

When he reached your shared room, he gently laid you down on the bed, pulling the blanket over you. He sat down beside you, his hand never leaving yours, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your knuckles.

Your words were barely a whisper, fragile and heavy. “I’d gotten used to the idea of us… us being parents.” The tremble in your voice made Logan’s chest tighten, and he couldn’t stop the pained expression that flickered across his face.

He leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours, his hands cradling your face. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and raw. “We… we just have to find a way to keep going.”

You gave a small, broken nod, tears slipping down your cheeks as your fingers reached out, trembling slightly, to cup his cheek. “I just… I wish I could fix this, Logan. I wish I could do something to make it better.”

Logan’s jaw clenched as he swallowed hard, his thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping away a tear. “There’s nothin’ to fix, darlin’,” he said quietly, though his own voice cracked at the end. “This ain’t on you. It never was.”

But you shook your head, your voice breaking into a sob. “It feels like it is. What if—what if my body just… can’t? What if this is because of me?”

The words spilled out, laden with guilt you couldn’t seem to shake. Logan’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. He hated seeing you like this—so vulnerable, so broken, carrying the weight of something that wasn’t yours to carry.

“Stop,” he said firmly, though his tone was still soft, his hand gently tilting your chin up so you’d look at him. His hazel eyes, glassy with his unshed tears, locked onto yours. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.”

You shook your head again, unable to stop the wave of tears that came. “But what if it’s me, Logan? What if I can’t—”

“Enough,” he cut in, his voice barely above a whisper, but the rawness of it stopped you in your tracks. “It’s not your fault. You hear me? This… this is just somethin’ that happened. And it hurts like hell, but it doesn’t mean you failed.”

His words cracked something inside of you, and you turned away, burying your face into the pillow as another sob wracked your body. Logan didn’t pull away. He stayed close, his hand rubbing slow, steady circles on your back, his presence grounding you even as your world felt like it was crumbling.

After a moment, Logan’s voice broke the heavy silence, softer now, as if he was speaking to himself as much as to you. “Darlin’, we’re not givin’ up. We’ve faced worse. We’ll get through this, too. But you gotta stop thinkin’ this is somethin’ you did.”

Your muffled voice came from the pillow, shaky and raw. “But I wanted it so badly, Logan. I already—I already pictured everything. The nursery, the little shoes… us holding—now it’s been ripped away from us.”

Logan’s chest ached at your words, and he let out a shaky breath, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I wanted it too. I already saw you as a mom, sweetheart. I still do. I always will.”

You turned your head slightly, your tear-streaked face meeting his gaze. His honesty—his vulnerability—broke through the wall of guilt you’d been building. “You still…?”

“Always,” he said firmly, his thumb brushing away another tear. “I’m not gonna let this define us. We’re more than this pain. And I know it feels impossible right now, but we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

A shaky sob escaped you as you reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Logan pulled you close, holding you tightly against him, his hand tangling in your hair as he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You’re not alone in this,” he murmured, his voice a quiet promise. “We’re in this together, no matter what. You and me.”

You allowed yourself to lean fully into him, your tears soaking into his shirt as he held you. His arms were strong and steady, and the way he cradled you made you feel, just for a moment, like maybe things could be okay again.

“I love you,” you whispered into his chest, the words muffled but heavy with meaning.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion as he rested his chin on top of your head. “More than anything. Don’t forget that.”

𓂃

Life was supposed to keep moving, but for you and Logan, it felt like time had stopped. The days blurred into weeks, and while the mansion hummed with the usual chaos of students and X-Men missions, you both drifted through it like ghosts.

The weight of the miscarriage hung heavy between you, unspoken but ever-present. You couldn’t bear to talk about it, not yet. Not to anyone except Logan, and even then, words often failed. Nights were the only solace, the quiet hours where he held you tightly in his arms as you sobbed until exhaustion finally overtook you. In those moments, he didn’t say much—what was there to say even as his own grief simmered just beneath the surface.

Logan hated feeling helpless, but this was something he couldn’t fight, couldn’t fix. He saw the pain in your eyes every time you avoided his gaze, the way you masked your tears with a smile that never quite reached your face. And it scared him. His mind spiraled into dark places late at night when he couldn’t sleep. What if this broke you? What if it broke your marriage? What if you left him because he couldn’t give you what you wanted?

The others started to notice. It wasn’t just that you both were quieter than usual—it was the way Logan didn’t bite back as much during arguments or how your laughter, which used to light up any room, had grown rare.

“You two seem pretty... off lately,” Scott had commented to Logan one morning in the kitchen.

Logan barely glanced at him, too tired to muster a sarcastic reply. “We’re fine,” he muttered, his tone gruff but unconvincing.

Scott frowned, crossing his arms. “Fine? You’ve barely said three words to anyone all week, and she’s not much better. Is something going on?”

Logan clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around the coffee mug he was holding. “Drop it, Summers,” he growled before walking out, heading upstairs to check on you.

But Scott didn’t drop it.

It was a Friday night, and the team had gathered in the living room for what was supposed to be a relaxing evening. Someone had put on a movie, but the dialogue barely registered as you sat curled up on the couch next to Logan. His arm was draped around your shoulders, protective as always, but you could feel the tension in his body. You weren’t much better, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket you had pulled over your lap.

“Alright,” Scott said, breaking the lull in conversation. “I can’t be the only one who’s noticed something’s off with these two.”

You froze, your fingers tightening on the blanket as all eyes turned toward you and Logan.

“Scott,” Jean warned, her tone cautious.

“What?” Scott pressed, looking around the room for support. “They’ve been acting strange for weeks now. Don’t tell me none of you have noticed.”

You forced a smile, trying to deflect. “We’re fine, Scott. Just busy, that’s all.”

Scott wasn’t convinced. “Busy? Come on. You guys are like the most annoying, lovey-dovey couple in this place. Now you’re quiet and avoiding everyone? Something’s up.”

“Scott, maybe—” Ororo started, but Scott cut her off.

“No, I’m serious. If something’s wrong, we can help, but we can’t do that if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”

Logan’s grip on your shoulder tightened, and you could feel the tension radiating off him. He leaned forward, his jaw clenched, his voice dangerously low. “I said drop it, Summers.”

“Why? What’s the big deal? We’re just trying to—”

Before he could finish, Logan shot to his feet, his voice breaking as he shouted, “Because we lost our baby, alright?”

The room fell into a stunned silence. Logan’s chest heaved, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stood there, raw and vulnerable in a way none of them had ever seen.

You stared up at him, your heart breaking all over again as you saw the tears streaming down his face, the anguish he’d been holding back finally spilling over. Logan, the man who never cried, was now sobbing in front of everyone, his shoulders shaking as he tried—and failed—to pull himself together.

“Logan…” you whispered, rising to your feet and reaching for him.

He shook his head, his voice cracking. “I—I couldn’t protect the baby. I couldn’t do anything. It’s my fault, sweetheart. I let you down.”

“Stop,” you said firmly, wrapping your arms around him despite the way he tried to pull back. “Logan, stop. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

He collapsed into your embrace, his head resting against your shoulder as he clung to you, his sobs muffled against your skin. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice broken.

Tears streamed down your face as you held him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you whispered, “You didn’t let me down. You could never let me down.”

The others sat in stunned silence, their initial shock giving way to quiet understanding. Jean wiped at her tears, her hand resting on Scott’s arm to keep him from saying anything more.

“It’s going to be okay,” you murmured into Logan’s ear, your voice trembling under the weight of your uncertainty. The words felt hollow, like trying to patch a dam with a handful of sand, but you needed him to hear them, to believe them.

Logan pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his hazel eyes brimming with unspoken pain. His rough edges, the walls he so carefully built, seemed to crumble in that moment. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice hoarse and raw, each word a struggle.

“You don’t have to know,” you whispered, your fingertips brushing a tear from his cheek, the small gesture grounding both of you.

For a moment, he just stared at you, like he was searching for something—hope, strength, maybe even forgiveness. Then, with a shaky exhale, he let himself lean into you, his weight resting against your shoulder as though surrendering to the vulnerability he so often avoided.

You guided him back to the couch, easing him down with gentle hands. Logan found your hand gripping it firmly, almost desperate, as if letting go would make the pain worse. You stayed by his side while the rest of the team sat in stunned silence. Their usual chatter and banter were gone, replaced by an unspoken understanding that this was something fragile that required care.

Jean broke the stillness, her voice soft but resolute. “Why don’t we give them some space?”

One by one, the others stood, their footsteps hesitant as they left the room. Scott lingered near the doorway, his expression conflicted. He seemed rooted to the spot, torn between leaving and staying.

“I’m sorry,” Scott finally said, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. He took a step closer, his gaze darting between you and Logan. “I didn’t mean to push earlier. I didn’t know…”

Logan lifted his head slightly, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable. The tension in the room was palpable, but there was no anger in his gaze—just a quiet exhaustion.

Scott ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I was out of line,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t realize… I just thought something was off, and I pushed when I shouldn’t have.”

Jean stepped into the room, placing a steadying hand on Scott’s arm. She looked at both of you, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Scott didn’t mean to make things worse,” she said gently. “We’ve… we’ve been where you are.”

You blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

Jean hesitated, her fingers tightening on Scott’s arm as if drawing strength from him. “Before we had Nathan, we… we lost a baby.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight of her confession filled the room.

You felt your chest tighten before glancing at Logan, who looked just as surprised as you. Scott’s usual stoic demeanor was gone, replaced by a raw vulnerability that you had never seen before.

Scott cleared his throat, his gaze fixed on the floor. “We didn’t tell anyone. Not even the Professor. It was early… and we thought we could handle it on our own.” He let out a shaky breath, his hands clenching at his sides. “But it was hard. Harder than we ever expected.”

Jean nodded, her eyes glistening as she looked at you. “We blamed ourselves. Blamed each other. But eventually, we realized… it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just… it happens.”

You blinked, the tears welling in your eyes threatening to spill over again. “I didn’t know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Scott let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “No one did. I thought if I buried it deep enough, it wouldn’t hurt as much. But seeing you two...” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “I’m sorry for pushing earlier. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

Jean stepped closer, her hand reaching out to yours. “It’s going to take time,” she said softly. “But you don’t have to go through it alone. If you ever need to talk… we’re here.”

Her words, simple but heartfelt, broke through the wall of grief that had been suffocating you. You nodded, a small, grateful smile breaking through your tears. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Scott extended a hand to Logan, who hesitated for a moment before shaking it. It wasn’t much, but it felt like the beginning of an unspoken understanding, a bridge between two men who had rarely seen eye to eye.

As they left the room, you turned to Logan, your hand squeezing his. “That… helped. A little.”

Logan nodded, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “Guess even Scott has his moments.”

You managed a weak laugh, leaning into him as he pulled you close. For the first time in weeks, the weight on your chest felt slightly lighter even if you knew this was only the beginning of trying to find a new normal. 

𓂃

Months had passed since the miscarriage, and while life had begun to find its rhythm again, the pain lingered like an uninvited guest. The grief wasn’t as sharp as it had been in the beginning, but it still loomed over you and Logan, casting a shadow on your once-effortless connection. You both knew it wasn’t your fault, but knowing and feeling weren’t always the same.

Logan, always the protector, had become even more so in the aftermath. His hand rarely left yours, as if letting go for even a moment might cause something else to slip away. He hovered constantly—not in a stifling way, but in a way that spoke volumes about his fear and guilt. While you appreciated his care, you could see that he was holding something back, burying his pain in the only way he knew how.

It wasn’t until one late night, when you reached out for him in bed and found his side cold and empty, that you realized just how much he was struggling. Pulling on a robe, you wandered the quiet halls of the mansion, searching for him. It didn’t take long; you heard the familiar snikt of his claws in the training room.

Peeking inside, your heart broke at the sight of him. Logan stood shirtless in the dim light, sweat dripping from his forehead as he lunged at the sparring dummy. His movements were wild, full of rage and frustration. His claws tore through the dummy with brutal efficiency, slashing and stabbing until it was shredded to pieces. When the dummy finally collapsed in a heap, Logan dropped to his knees, his claws retracting with a metallic hiss. He leaned forward, bracing himself on his hands, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps.

You stayed in the doorway for a moment, debating whether to give him space or step in. But as you saw his shoulders slump, the weight of his grief almost palpable, you couldn’t hold back.

“Logan,” you called softly, stepping into the room.

His head whipped around, his eyes wild for a second before softening when he saw you. He wiped a hand across his face as if trying to compose himself. “What’re you doin’ up, sweetheart?” he asked gruffly, his voice low and strained.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, walking closer until you stood in front of him. “I woke up, and you weren’t there.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “Just needed to… work some things out.”

You knelt in front of him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You can’t keep doing this, Logan. Pushing it all down, burying it in anger. It’s not going to help.”

His eyes flickered back to you, and for a moment, you saw the raw vulnerability he rarely let anyone see. “I don’t know what else to do,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “I can’t… I can’t stop thinkin’ about it. I don’t know how to make it right.”

You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “You don’t have to make it right,” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “We can’t fix this. We just have to accept it and move on.”

His eyes filled with tears, and he shook his head, his hands coming up to cover yours. “I just wanted to protect you. To give you… everything,” he said, his voice cracking. “And I couldn’t even do that.”

“You did,” you insisted, your thumbs brushing his cheekbones. “Logan, you were there for me every step of the way. You held me when I thought I wasn’t worthy of it. You loved me through it. That’s everything. But you have to let yourself grieve too. You can’t keep punishing yourself like this.”

He looked up at you, his hazel eyes searching yours as if trying to find some kind of answer. Finally, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. You felt his chest heave as a sob escaped him, and it broke your heart all over again. You stroked his hair, whispering soothing words as he finally let himself feel the weight of his grief.

After a while, when his breathing steadied, you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “Logan,” you began gently, “we need to get out of here. Just for a little while. Go somewhere quiet, just the two of us. We need time to heal.”

He hesitated, his brows furrowing. “You think runnin’ away’s gonna fix it?”

“It’s not running away,” you said firmly. “It’s giving ourselves a chance to breathe. To remember who we are together. We’ve been so caught up in the pain… we need to find our way back to each other.”

He considered your words for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Where do you wanna go?”

You smiled faintly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “Somewhere peaceful. Maybe the cabin up north? Just us. No distractions, no one else.”

Logan exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly for the first time in what felt like weeks. “Yeah,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “I think that’s exactly what we need.”

You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips feeling a flicker of hope. It wouldn’t be easy, but you knew that as long as you had each other, you could find a way forward.

𓂃

The secluded cabin was tucked away in a quiet corner of nowhere, surrounded by towering trees that swayed softly in the breeze. The air smelled of pine and earth, and the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds. It was peaceful, untouched, and exactly what you and Logan needed to find each other again.

The calm of the place had worked its magic over the past week. The tension that had weighed heavy on your shoulders began to ease, and you could see the same was true for Logan. His usual gruffness was quieter here, softened by the stillness of the forest and the warmth of the cabin.

As you laced up your hiking boots near the fireplace, you glanced out the window at the sun filtering through the trees. “I’m gonna walk the trail,” you announced casually, straightening up and brushing your hands against your jeans.

Logan’s voice rumbled behind you as he walked into the small living room. “Do you want to go alone?” He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as a small, warm smile played on his lips.

You turned to face him, quirking an eyebrow as you stepped closer. “Depends… are you gonna be good company, tough guy?”

That earned you the smallest huff of laughter, his smirk tugging wider. “There she is,” he murmured, his tone warm and teasing as he reached out to pull you into his arms. His lips brushed against the bridge of your nose, lingering for just a moment before he tilted his forehead against yours. “I missed those little remarks,” he admitted quietly.

You chuckled, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest. “And here I thought they annoyed you,” you teased, glancing up at him with a playful glint in your eyes.

Logan rolled his eyes, though the grin that spread across his face betrayed him. “Darlin’, I’d be lost without ‘em,” he said, his voice softer now. His hazel eyes searched yours for a moment, and his hand came up to gently cup your cheek. “I love you,” he added, the words quiet but weighty, as if they held the sum of everything he couldn’t quite say.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest, and you leaned into his touch, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand. “I love you too,” you whispered, the words spilling out like a promise. Then you grinned, breaking the moment with a playful nudge to his side. “Now hurry up, or I’m leaving you behind.”

Logan smirked, dropping his hand to give your hip a playful squeeze. “Don’t get cocky. Let me grab my boots.” He turned toward the door, muttering something about you always keeping him on his toes, but there was no bite to his words—just affection.

A few minutes later, the two of you were walking side by side down the dirt trail, surrounded by the serene beauty of the forest. The sunlight trickled through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns on the ground. You could hear the crunch of leaves beneath your boots and the faint trickle of a nearby stream.

For a while, neither of you spoke, content to simply exist in the quiet of nature and each other’s presence. Logan reached out to take your hand, his fingers wrapping securely around yours. You glanced up at him, catching the way the golden light softened his rugged features. He looked more at ease than he had in months, and it made your heart ache.

“You know,” you began, a teasing lilt in your voice, “I didn’t peg you for the hand-holding type.”

Logan glanced down at you, one brow arching. “Don’t start,” he warned, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

“What? I think it’s cute.” You swung his hand slightly, earning a quiet groan.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” he muttered, but the smirk tugging at his lips gave him away.

You laughed, leaning into his side as you walked. “Admit it—you like it.”

He let out a low chuckle, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Can’t say I mind when it’s with you.”

Your chest swelled at the admission, and you stopped walking for a moment, turning to face him. “Thank you,” you said, your voice earnest.

Logan frowned slightly, confused. “For what?”

“For bringing me here,” you explained, gesturing to the forest around you. “For… letting me have this time with you. I needed it.”

His expression softened, and he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I needed it too,” he admitted, his voice low. “I didn’t know how much until now.”

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “You know, this whole reconnecting thing looks good on you, Logan.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s already there,” you teased, slipping your arms around his waist. “Now, let’s see if you can keep up, old man.”

Logan let out a bark of laughter, his hand sliding to rest on your lower back. “You’re gonna regret that, sweetheart,” he warned, his voice full of playful challenge.

“Promises, promises,” you shot back with a grin, taking off down the trail as Logan chased after you, the sound of your laughter carrying through the trees.

Eventually, Logan caught up to you, his strong arms wrapping securely around your waist as he pulled you to a stop. Your laughter echoed through the trees, a sound that seemed to brighten the peaceful forest around you. “I was so sure I was gonna win,” you teased, still catching your breath as you squirmed halfheartedly in his grip.

Logan let out a low chuckle, the rumble of it vibrating through you. “Guess I’m not as old as you think I am,” he shot back, his smirk smug as he held you against his chest.

“Oh, you’re definitely old,” you teased, leaning back into him. “I mean, just look at your white—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, gorgeous,” Logan warned, cutting you off with a playful growl, though the amusement in his voice betrayed him.

You turned in his arms, grinning as your fingers reached up to play with the strands of his hair. “You know I love you,” you said softly, letting the teasing drop for a moment. “Pretty sure if I met you… say ten years from now, I’d still fall for you. Still, marry you.”

Logan’s expression softened, his hazel eyes meeting yours with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “I don’t doubt that,” he murmured. “But for the record, darlin’, I’m glad it didn’t take ten years.”

You smiled, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his neck. “Me too,” you whispered. The peaceful silence of the forest wrapped around you both, and for a moment, everything felt still, like the world had paused just for the two of you.

Logan’s hands settled on your hips. “You’ve been thinkin’ about the future a lot lately, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice quiet but full of understanding.

You hesitated for a beat, then nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted. “I mean, with everything that’s happened… I guess I just wonder what’s next for us. Like, are we supposed to keep trying? Or are we supposed to let it go?”

Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, his gaze dropping to where his hand rested on your waist. After a moment, he sighed and looked back up at you, his eyes steady and sure. “I think… maybe we don’t need to push so hard. If it happens, it happens,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “But what we’ve got right now? It’s enough for me. You’re enough for me.”

His words hit you like a warm wave, washing away the doubt and guilt that had lingered for weeks. “Logan…” you began, but your voice caught, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. You swallowed hard and managed a smile. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “I don’t need anything else, sweetheart. Just you. The rest? That’s just… bonus.”

You let out a soft, shaky laugh, leaning your forehead against his. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

He smirked, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “That’s my job, isn’t it?”

You grinned, shaking your head. “Well, for what it’s worth, I feel the same way. I don’t want us to lose ourselves trying to force something that’ll happen when it’s meant to.”

Logan’s arms tightened around you. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I don’t want to miss a single second of us, just the way we are.”

[saerins]

ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki

touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3

“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)

beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”

you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.

it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.

“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.

unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”

touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”

in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.

fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.

you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”

your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”

the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.

until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.

fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.

“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”

he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.

“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”

yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.

you did… the first few times.

and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.

“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.

a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.

touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.

he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.

and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.

it’s dangerous.

he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.

and then he does something he’s never done before.

you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.

did that really happen?

“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”

you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.

it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”

and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.

mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.

were you really just upset over someone else?

every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.

by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.

“fuck, did we really just—”

“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.

touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.

dangerous.

pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.

“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.

“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.

“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.

touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.

he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)

grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”

you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.

“huh.”

“what for?”

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”

“huh? for what?”

touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”

you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”

“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.

“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”

“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.

you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”

touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”

“wait, what do you mean?”

with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”

[jarofstyles]

Strawberry Sunrise

Helloooo. Welcome to part one of a short series I’m doing. I’ve been dying to do a sporty/ personal trainer sort of thing so I’ve picked this back up after abandoning it for a bit! Please leave feedback if this is something you’d like to see more of on here!

Check out our Patreon for early access to parts 2-3 and 180+ exclusive writings

Warnings- mention of stalking, consent, gym culture, men being creeps, smitten H, anxiety

WC- 3.8k

Harry had always enjoyed the gym.

The burn in his muscles was his release of choice, choosing to express his innermost emotions with working up a sweat as he ran miles on the treadmill, muscles straining as he lifted and knuckles sore as he worked the bag. He’d spend hours working out purely for enjoyment and release in his time off, not only for the burn but from the community surrounding it. That being said, it made a lot of sense that when he got tired early on in the corporate world, he decided to become a personal trainer. A really successful one at that- thankfully, considering his father had been very skeptical at the profession change.

Working at a higher end gym, the facilities always remained spotless. There was a sauna and steam room, an in-ground heated pool and jacuzzi room, lush locker rooms with wooden locker cubbies and provided locks and fluffy white towels, and even held a boxing ring on the bottom floor which he loved to spar in in his free time. It was in a refashioned warehouse, lux looking in a rustic way.

He built his career and clientele over the span of a few years and had gotten into the groove of it fairly quickly. Working with positive reinforcement and meditative breathing before and after each session, people found his presence calming and many trusted him to help get them to their potential- which he proudly did. His routine varied but it always ended the day with a smoothie from the smoothie bar run inside the lobby. Choco PB, Mango Delight, or a Strawberry Sunrise with extra protein were his go tos.

One of his new favorite parts about his job, though, was the new receptionist at the front desk. Y/N.

A complete and utter sweetheart who, for a lack of better words, was a breath of fresh air in the usually gruff, testosterone filled setting. He loved watching her chat, even more watching her politely reject the many customers who tried to get her number. She didn’t seem to have a clue just how alluring she was. Her beaming smile and saccharine little giggle that made his toes curl, he was crushing on her big time. If he wasn’t afraid to risk her feeling comfortable at the work environment by potentially rejecting him, he’d have asked her out already but it was only 4 months in and she was a hit with everyone. He didn’t want to be the reason she left. Most of the other trainers were in relationships or married so she had been safe and had a good relationship with them all as colleagues, though Harry liked to flirt with her lightheartedly. He could tell she got her a little flustered and the arrogant son of a bit in him fucking loved it.

But what he didn’t love, though, was when she hesitantly found him with teary eyes after locking the front door with shaky hands as closing time finished and it was just employees of the gym. Her face was pale, spooked and Harry was not a fan of. Fear didn’t suit her.

“Harry?” Her shaky voice whispered. “I don’t mean to bother you at all, but if- could you wait for me before you leave? There’s… there’s that one guy, one of Liam’s clients? He kept asking me out and he got mad that I really said no and he’s been waiting outside at closing time and I’m just-‘I’m scared and….”’a quiver of her lip made his chest ache while also burning in rage.

Something he hated more than anything was someone who couldn’t take no for an answer, more specifically men who couldn’t let their bruised ego be healed in private, lick their wounds and accept that they’d not gotten what they wanted. Instead they harassed the other person as if the fucking answer would change. But to do it to Y/N? He felt enraged.

“He did what?” His mouth parted in surprise, brows pulling together as his shoulders squared up. Sure enough he could see a car parked right outside the door with the lights off, but someone visibly inside. Y/N parked close to the building and he must have known that. “Fuck, Sweets. M’sorry.” He groaned. “Absolutely not acceptable. M’gonna make sure Liam knows and that he’s dropped as a member here but of course I’ll walk you out. Are you almost done?” His hand reached for her shoulder to give an appreciative squeeze, bare skin meeting his palm. She wore a tank top with the gym’s logo and yoga pants, her name tag taken off already.

“Yeah- I just have to shut down the computers and sweep the front. Is that okay?” Her teeth chewed nervously on her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry to keep you. I know you’ve had a long day and you have one tomorrow too, I just, I have a bad feeling and I’m scared. I wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t give me the creeps even before.”

Harry was vaguely familiar with the dude, mostly because he had snickered at Y/N’s polite attempt to tell him no to a date previously- but now, that wasn’t so funny. “Hey.” His thumb brushed over her skin. “Don’t apologize. I won’t hear it. Of course I’d do this for you, I care. I’d never let anyone be in danger, least of all you. You’re the best receptionist we’ve ever had and I’d be crushed if something happened to you. Everyone would.” Mostly him, though. His crush was real. However now wasn’t the time to deal with that.

“Thank you so much.” She sighed in relief, reaching up to squeeze his wrist. “I’ll only be a minute, okay? Just stand right there.”

And he did. He watched as she shut down the computers and grabbed the little broom to sweep up the little bits around the front desk, thanking Harry when he brought the trash can out from the front desk for her to pour the dust pan into. Her thanks was gracious, grabbing her keys and nervously following behind him as he made his way out first.

It seemed that the man hadn’t expected Harry to still be there, as he had parked further back in the lot. The look of surprise made Harry irritated as he directly went to the car, knocking on the window. The man hesitantly rolled it down a little bit, Harry’s arm braced on the hood as he leaned down to speak to him.

“Absolutely unacceptable.” He said straight. “She said no. Dunno what or how that translates to ‘wait for her after work to crowd and stalk her like a creep’, but let me spell it out for you.” His voice dropped lower. “You’re going to stay away from her. She isn’t available, not for you. You’re going to listen when women tell you no, and leave it fucking be. Know she’s a pretty thing but that doesn’t give you the right to follow her around.”

“What are you? Her boyfriend?” The man sneered, making Harry’s jaw clench. Was he dense? Truly?

“S’not your business who I am to her. All you need to know is that she isn’t on the market, stalking is unattractive and if you don’t leave her the fuck alone, I swear to you that there will be consequences. I’d suggest finding another gym, mate.” He patted the top of his car before pulling back, finding Y/N standing by the glass doors, wringing her hands. The look of relief on her face as Harry approached and the guy’s car peeled out of the lot made his anger worth every bit.

“Told ‘em off.” Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he walked with her to her car and made sure she got her bag in. “Hey- let me follow you home, yeah? I’ll give you my number and you can text me if he bugs you again but I’d feel better knowing you got in safe and he isn’t out there waiting for you somewhere else.” He wouldn’t put it past an idiot like that.

“Normally I’d try to tell you no, but I can’t tell you how much that would mean to me.” Her body sagged in relief as she took him by surprise, taking him in for a hug. “Thank you so much. I was so scared he’d try to take me or something, I watch too much Criminal Minds or something but.” She shrugged, pulling back far too soon. It had taken him by surprise and he hadn’t had nearly enough time to appreciate her sweet smelling, warm body against his own.

“Anytime, Y/N. Seriously. Your safety is important to me.” More than she’s known. “Let’s get going, yeah? Know you had an emotional day.”

—-

Harry had driven her home, smiling and beeping once she had gotten inside her apartment building but waiting to drive off before he had gotten her little text of ‘ inside!!! :-)’

He spent the rest of the night trying to work away his anger, cooking a quick meal before heading off to bed. Y/N was too good for shit like that. He’d shot a text to Liam letting him know he told his client to fuck off and he’d help find another but was assured that it was a good loss anyways, which only helped ease him. The girl wouldn’t have to deal with it again.

He just hoped she would be okay.

—-

The next morning he was greeted by her smiling face, melting off the apprehension he had felt all morning. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail with two loose tendrils around her face, looking as cute as ever as she waved at him.

“Hi, Harry!” She chirped. “I’ve got a smoothie with your name on it when you’re ready for it later. Thank you again for helping me last night.” His membership card was quickly scanned and handed back. Her smile was infectious, making his own rise on the corner of his lips.

“Yeah? I’m glad to have helped. I’m here for anything y’need, Sweets.” If only she knew how far that could go for her. Maybe it was better she didn’t. He was really into her but he was hyper aware of how it could come off now, so he would proceed with caution. “I’ll hold you to the smoothie when m’on my lunch.”

For the first time in quite a while, Harry had a hard time concentrating on his sessions. Of course he poured himself into it as much as he could, but he couldn’t stop thinking about last night. How shaken up Y/N had been and how she had been so appreciative. He couldn’t help it, because he’d already had a crush on her and the fact that she trusted him enough to come to him for help made him really happy. He was also still mad that the man had crossed such big boundary and genuinely scared the hell out of probably the sweetest girl anyone’s met.

Being in his own head also explained why said girl scared the shit out of him, making him jump as he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. Jumping from the stool, he turned to a wide eyed Y/N and tore the earbuds out of his ears with a very, very embarrassing yelp. “Shit! Y/N, you scared me.”

As if it wasn’t obvious.

“I’m so sorry!” She peeped, hand over her mouth. “I said your name and I didn’t see you had in your earbuds. I’m so sorry.” Her babbling was very cute, but he didn’t want her to feel bad.

“It’s okay- just made me jump.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Shit, it’s my fault for sitting here with them on at work. You did nothing wrong.” His palm squeezed, making her shoulders relax just a bit. Thank god. There was no effort to remove it as he continued on, and no effort to step away from him. “Y’said something about a smoothie, yeah?”

His grin was probably a bit too big in regards to a smoothie but he hoped like hell that she would join him at the little tables they had set up. They were in the reception area, a bit public for his taste but considering what had happened last night he figured that was a better option than the break room. It was a delicate thing and he needed to go about it carefully. He really, really didn’t want to muck it up because his dick got ahead of his brain.

Although, she did look spectacular today, if he could say that.

“Yes! I was going to grab one too. What kind would you like?” One of the duties of the front desk people was to man the smoothie bar when needed. It wasn’t super demanding and the recipes were written out in a binder-

Harry would know because he’s had to do it before too- but she seemed to enjoy making them the times she’s done his. “I’m going for the Strawberry Sunrise and some energy boost.” Her hand squeezed his wrist before it was removed and she glided behind the bar, ponytail swaying as she did so.

“S’a good choice. Simple and effective.” He nodded in approval. “Think M’gonna go for… the chocolate peanut butter, if that’s alright?” His fingers drummed on the surface of the counter, slightly nervous habits showing when she was around. It was difficult to think. Even if he was this charming, charismatic, outgoing guy- he still got a bit flustered when talking to a pretty girl who was suspiciously angelic in looks and in appearance.

“Of course it’s okay.” Her laugh echoed in his ears. “I told you, it’s my way of saying thank you. Now sit and look pretty while I finish these.”

Harry was glad her back was turned because his face was most definitely flushed. Did she call him pretty? It seemed so. The man definitely didn’t go to the gym looking like a slob, but he had much better days outside of it. He liked to play around in fashion and the gym left little to experiment with unless he was okay with a sweat stain or ruining it. That’s why he wore cuter bandanas around his neck, or his stack of fabric bracelets that were meant to fall off. They were made of string and easily replaceable but they added color to his otherwise bland outfits he wore to keep from ruining his good outfits.

Apparently the last thing she had said was enough to keep him on his head until she finished, the large orange and white striped cup placed in front of him. “They’ve got to get rid of the styrofoam cups and do paper.”

Y/N sighed, looking at her own with a little frown. “I’ve suggested it but manager said we got to go through these before he’s gonna reorder. It’s only a few cents cheaper too, I was snooping on the order form.” She grumbled, making Harry smile. Y/N was known for her environmentalist tendencies and it only added to why he liked her. “Or, do like… have a bottle washing station and let us sell reusable cups with the gym logo and people can use those! Anything but these.” Leaning in closer to him, he caught her perfume as she let him in on a ‘secret’. “Plus, I fucking hate the sound of styrofoam. It makes my skin crawl. ASMR gone wrong.”

Harry swore he fell in love w little bit when she pulled back, laughing along with him as he nodded. She was fucking adorable and his hands itched to grab hold of that ponytail and keep her head still so he could kiss all over her face. Could you get cuteness aggression over another human?

“S’a great idea, actually.” He nodded, taking a sip with a hum. Y/N did the best smoothies. Shakes? He never was sure what to call them. “And you’re right. Styrofoam is awful for the environment and ears. I usually bring my water bottles every day but the amount of plastics we see here… S’a shame.”

“Exactly!” She slapped her hand on the counter. “It would only cost a little more to be more efficient. Do more water fountains so they don’t have to bring those plastic water bottles. Those are also on my hit list, when people crinkle those bottles…” her nose wrinkled in distaste, grabbing her cup and going around the counter. “Where did you want to sit, by the way?”

Harry’s heart grew three sizes, he thinks, when she was the one to initiate their time together. He’s been mulling it around in his mind, how to ask her to sit with him but apparently they were on the same page. “F’you want to sit out here we can, or we can go to the employee lounge. It’s your choice.”

“Do you mind if we go to the lounge? I had to talk to you about something, if you don’t mind.” It was then he could see her shifting nervously on her feet, cluing him in to something else. Was the guy still bothering her?

“Course we can. Lead the way.” He extended his hand, letting her lead as he tried to figure it out. Y/N was a somewhat nervous person by nature and he knew from watching her pick at her nails or bounce her leg, twirling her hair or rearranging pens often, but he didn’t like the idea of her nervous around him.

So when they sat down at one of the smaller tables in the empty lounge, he let his concerns be known. “Are you okay? You seem a little nervous.” He bumped his knee with hers, bringing the smoothie up to his mouth for a sip as he studied her face.

“Yeah! Yeah I just…” there was a pause, her nails dragging down the cup to make a pattern. “I couldn’t sleep very well last night. I felt really safe with you and I’m really grateful for your help- you’ve no idea. I was scared if end up in a ditch by the time anyone came in this morning but….”’her teeth worried her bottom lip. “I don’t want to have to rely on anyone else. You’re not always going to be here. And I know- I know the people here are very strong and bigger than me, most of them anyways- but I need a way to protect myself.” She took a big breath before the words rushed out. “Do you think you could help me with self defense? Even just a little bit, I can pay you or clean your house or something I just really….” Her frazzled expression broke his heart. “I don’t want to feel helpless again.”

He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. That he would stay every night and walk her to his car, that he would take care of her but the truth remained that he couldn’t always guarantee that for her. Sometimes he had to leave early, sometimes he had to stay later than her and it was just not possible. What she asked was absolutely the right thing, but he hated that she felt helpless.

“Y/N.” He crooned. “Of course I will. It’s not even a question, I’d be more than willing to help you out.” She must really not know his crush on her if she couldn’t see how he was mentally tripping over himself at the idea of spending time with her. It would be a double win. She could help herself and he could spend time with her alone. “I want to say M’really fucking sorry that men are shit and that you even have to worry. If I’m here when you’re getting off of work, which I usually am, I’m more than happy to walk you to your car, but I understand.

I hate that you feel helpless. You’re a lot stronger than y’give yourself credit for.” His hand reached for the one laying on the table top, holding it a lot more confidently than he felt. She squeezed it back, though, so a win was a win! “We’ll have t’do it after hours, though, if that’s alright? Just stay a bit longer after work. My days are really full right now and I know you’re working most days here so it’ll have to be a weird schedule but you don’t need to pay me a cent. Let me do this for you for my own peace of mind, yeah?” His eyes searched her face, like he was trying to find an answer for a question he didn’t know. “Was worried out of my head last night about you.”’

Y/N seemed to visibly relax, a smile growing on her soft little lips and her entire energy moving to a warmer one. What he didn’t expect, though, was for her to throw herself into his lap for a big hug. Y/N had always been touchy, but he never thought he’d end up with a lap full of the prettiest girl he’d ever seen whispering her thanks as her face tucked into his neck.

God, he hoped he smelled decent.

His arm wrapped around her as he clumsily put his drink down in surprise, stroking her back as she squeezed him tight- and it was like a dream. Soft body against his own and engulfed in her scent? He was happy if she never moved from here. Unfortunately she did, peeling herself up and her beaming smile making him melt. “Thank you, thank you so fucking much. You can have anything you want in return. You don’t have to think of it kow but… I trust you the most here.” She admitted, clamoring back into her seat. “You’re the coolest, H. Thank you again. When can we start?”

Harry knew he was in trouble when he wanted to cancel the rest of his day and offer it to her. She’d sent him through a wind tunnel of wild thoughts and his body was still reeling from having her so close, but he had to try and hold it together.

“Why don’t we start tomorrow?” He offered. “But be prepared to work up a sweat.”

[bearbearrz]

Cool for the Summer: HNK

“I can keep a secret, can…you?”

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ♫♬♪ Cool for the Summer- Demi Lovato

Hueningkai x afab! Reader

Fluff, eventual smut

Cw: dom!kai, flirty!kai, childhood friends, friends to lovers, fingering, unprotected sex

6.6k words

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“You know we’re getting married right?” A tiny, lanky, seven-year-old HueningKai says to you monotonously, as if stating a well known fact. “Huh? No way” you say sticking your tongue out at him, behavior fitting for two second graders. He huffs, puffing his already chubby cheeks out further, and crossing his arms. “Well why not?!” He demands.  You turn your noise up and pout as well. “I want someone tall and handsome, like Mr. Huening!” You retort. He gasps, dramatically putting his hand on his chest like he got stabbed there. “My dad? Well I’ll be even taller and more handsome than him when I grow up, just you wait!”. You scoff, peering down on him with playfully judgy eyes. “Yeah sure. And I’ll grow wings on my back and learn to fly!”.  HueningKai takes a step closer and stomps his foot loudly. “Fine then, since you don’t wanna believe me, we’ll make a bet! You’ll marry me once I get a little taller than you”. He decides. “Yeah whatever, I’ll marry you when you’re thiiiiiiiiis tall!” You say, reaching your hand upwards and getting on your tippy toes to really exaggerate. To your adolescent mind, this was never going to happen. The two of you of you pinky promised—as little kids do—and ran back to your respective parents.

You’d eventually eat your words, in more ways than one you suppose.

You and Hueningkai were childhood friends. Your mothers were absolute besties who got pregnant within months of each other, so naturally their children had to continue the legacy to some extent. You both were adorable kids. him being short, lanky and you being taller and equally awkwardly built, at least for the majority of your childhood.

Shortly after entering middle school Kai’s parents moved away a few cities over with the rest of his siblings. You cried like a baby when he left, even though you didn’t want to admit it. The two of you would communicate through your parents, FaceTiming and blabbering about random little things happening in your lives. When you were old enough (around highschool age) you’d begin texting on your own. 

Kai’s family would visit your hometown every now and then during the summer, staying at their summer home. Every summer he looked different. A little taller each time. A little more handsome each time. And most importantly, the beating in your chest that happened when he was simply existing in your presence, grew each time. 

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were falling for him. Unfortunately, your budding feelings felt just as fleeting as summer, lasting only months before you had to suppress them for another year. You failed to remember, however, that you can only shake a soda can so much until it explodes. 

So, the feeling in your chest bubbled up and over the summer before your sophomore year of college. Going to a school out of state meant that you spent less time with your loved ones. By now, you had an established support system. You didn’t know where you’d be if it weren’t for your friend group. 

“Y/NNNNNNNN…*hic* Dont leave meeeee! *hic*” your close friend Sabrina fake-sobbed into your shirt. “BRINAAAAAAA…I’m sorry! It’ll only be for a couple months. I haven’t seen my family in a while, and they’re blowing up my phone!” You also fake-sobbed back. Wiping her imaginary tears, Brina stepped back from your hug. “Well on the bright side,” she started, “at least you’ll get to see your ‘hot childhood friend!’” She nudges you. Blushing you turn away “Maybe… I don’t even know if he’ll be here this summer, maybe it’ll be like last time where he didn’t come. I prefer hanging out with his sisters anyways!” You lied with a childish pout. You missed “your” Hueningkai. Sabrina knew it, it was obvious. You knew it too, even though you were too stubborn to admit it. “What a dirty liar!” Sabrina said with a laugh. “Keep telling yourself that, babes. Keep me updated okay? I expect a text or call every day till you get back, or else your ass is mine! That IS a threat!” She says, pointing an accusatory finger at you. You meet her gaze and share a laugh. After going in for one last tight hug, you board your train, falling asleep on the 2 hour long ride.

Waking up a bit before your stop, you watch the familiar scenery through the window. You can’t help but feel hopeful that you’ll see your childhood friend again, you even dressed extra cute today. Hair done perfectly and a cute yet comfy skirt & hoodie set on. The train halted to a stop at the station, and you hurriedly got off, searching for your mom or your dad, who would typically come pick you up. Getting comfortable on a station bench, you text your mom for her location. 

You: Hi mom! I just arrived at the station. Who’d picking me up today, you or dad?

Mamabear🧸: Sorry hun, it’s neither.

You: what do you mean? I’m stranded? (;_;)????

Mamabear🧸: Don’t be silly! Whoops! I forgot to tell you! My mistake.

Mamabear🧸: Little Kai is coming to get you. Me and your dad got a little busy with the welcome party preparations, and his family got here a couple days ago.

Before you can even process your feelings, or even type a response, you hear a man’s soft, mellow voice, “Hey pretty girl,”. Looking up through your bangs, your eyes widen at the sight in front of you.

Kai. Kamal. Huening. 

At least 5 inches taller than when you last saw him, with substantially more muscle on his body, and somehow more handsome than he was the last time you saw him.  

You don’t even realize what you’re doing until he says, “You done staring?”. You snap back to your senses with a quick blink and say sharply “I-I wasn’t staring you short idiot!” Blush apparent on your face as you called him his old childhood nickname. Hueningkai lets out a loud laugh, the one that you missed so much “That’s my girl. Let’s get you back to the house. Everyone misses you.”. You get up, smooth your skirt down and follow him to his car.

The car ride home mostly consisted of small talk about school life, but you were completely out of it.  The words “That’s my girl” played over and over in your head. His girl? You’re his girl? Like…his? You stared out the window, unaware of his constant glances in your direction. When the two of you got to your house, you were met with hugs and kisses from both of your parents. “Our babies are finally back together!” Your moms squealed in excitement. “Finally, one happy family yet again.” Your dad chipped in. You admit, it’s been a while since you were all together like this. You couldn’t help the grin sneaking onto your face. It felt like old times, but there was something a little different.

It was him, of course. Him in all of his 6 feet ‘and some’ of glory, you pretended not to notice the way his muscles rippled under his boxy white t- shirt every time he moved. You tried not to stare at his dangerously handsome face. You failed at both. Unsurprisingly. 

After the main festivities were over, you headed up to your room, perfectly decorated, and just as you left it the previous year. After showering and changing into comfy pajamas, you got in your bed, cuddled with your childhood stuffed animal and put on a movie. 

“Y/Nieeeeee~” a freshly showered hueningkai bursts into your room, Clad with a white beater and pajama pants. You jump at his loud interruption. “Kaiiii” you say, rubbing your tired eyes, “what’s up?”.  “I’m staying over tonight! My parents and sisters went home already.” He exclaims.

Your heart drops to your stomach. “What?” You ask in disbelief. “It’s just like the old days!” He says with a smirk. But it’s not. And he knew it. Your parents have let you sleep together since you were innocent children, so they still trusted you now…Except you were now both adults. You couldn’t take him sleeping in the same room as you ‘like the old days’. “Oh. Okay.” You say tentatively with a hint of nervousness. “What’s wrong, doll?” He asks, noticing the shift in your voice. He approaches your bed, and the nickname makes your things clench under the covers. “Nothing Hyuka, just tired after today,” you lie. “Fine by me!” He exclaims, sitting on your bed and leaning against the headboard next to you. It’s like he was doing this on purpose. “Put your movie back on, and start from the beginning if you’re going to go to sleep!” He nags. “Fine,” you say, grabbing your phone and rolling over to update Sabrina. She had just been blowing up your phone begging to updates. 

You: He’s so sexy I’m going to explode

Brina🐹: HUH

Brina🐹: WHAT HAPPENED 

Brina🐹: DID YOU FUCK HIM YET?

Brina🐹: PROOF???!??

Brina🐹: But like if u send me a tape keep the camera on you 😉😉😉🫦🫦🫦

You: girl wtf😭 

You chuckle as you text her, summarizing your day and letting the conversation take you wherever it does.

Suddenly, you feel breath fanning on your ear. You look up to see Hueningkai leaning over your shoulder with his eyebrows knitted in some unknown emotion. “Who are you texting?” He asks with serious tone that gave you shivers. “None of your business!” you say, turning off your phone as you stick your tongue out, just as you did when you were kids. Rather than cheekily responding, he just huffs and goes back to watching the movie…weird. 

You: He saw me texting you & I lowkey think he got jealous🫢 could be wishful thinking tho 🥲

Brina🐹: he should be jealous! You’re mine kitten😛Anyways, does he even know who I am?

You: Okay that’s enough from you. And no I just told him it was none of his business lol 

Brina🐹: keep up the act and make him jelly! See where it goes! I’m going to sleep now! Gn my loveeee ttyl 

You: Okiiiiiie goodnight!

Brina🐹: I’m serious. Update me. This is a threat 😘🔪

*liked by Y/N* 

You set down your phone with a smile on your face that didn’t go unnoticed by Hueningkai. “Someone’s got you happy,” he observed as his eyes flick back to the screen. “Yup!” You exclaim, remembering what your friend told you. “Nite Kaikai!” You say, turning over 

“Nite doll,” there he goes with that nickname again. Every time the nickname leaves his lips, you get a familiar feeling in your lower stomach. Hueningkai pulls out the spare mattress and blanket your parents kept for him in your room and makes himself comfortable as you shut your eyes closed. You try to fall asleep, ignoring the burning sensation between your legs.

—————

*shlick, shlick, shlick* 

The room was dark, only slightly illuminated by the dim TV.

Hueningkai had you locked in a passionate kiss as he pumped your wet cunt full of his long, slender musician’s fingers. “Hueningkai..” you moan his name through kisses. “Shit, so tight for me. It doesn’t matter where you are, you’ll always be mine,” he says possessively. “Kaikai, fuck, please!” You moan out as he speeds up, teetering on the edge of release. “Say my name, pretty girl.”  “please, please!” you babble, not quite sure what you’re begging for. “Kai, Hyuka I’m gonna-“

And then you woke up. It was probably around 10am. You blushed as you recalled the events of last night-or lack thereof. It was a dream. Fuck. Glancing over to the empty mattress, your heart sunk into your stomach. You sure hope your fantasies weren’t audible. Getting out of bed, you head to the bathroom to clean up the sticky mess between your thighs.

You find a yummy breakfast waiting for you downstairs, Kai and your family already eating. “Oh hey honey,” your mom exclaims. We wanted you to be able to sleep in after the long day you had yesterday,”. “Oh, thanks!” You respond, sliding into the only open seat and loading food onto your plate, too nervous to make eye contact with Hueningkai. “And how’d you sleep, Kai?” Your mom asks, directing your attention to the handsome boy beside you. “Great, thanks” he says with a smile. he then leans down towards your ear. “Good morning sleepyhead~” You jump and choke on your food for a second, not expecting that. “Morning, Kai,” you say, finally looking up to meet his gaze, chocolate eyes staring into your soul and a sweet smile directed towards you. You turn your attention back to your food as your mom tells you guys the itinerary for the day. You don’t pay much attention, mind replaying the sinful scene that you acted out with your childhood friend last night in your dreams. The only thing you caught was that your family would be at Hueningkai’s family’s lake house today, the property they stayed at during the summer months. You unconsciously rubbed your things together at the thought of spending more time with the handsome man. You didn’t notice his hardening gaze at the way your short-clad thighs shifted in your seat. 

——-

Dressed in a bikini top and some shorts, you make your way over to the dock connecting the Huenings’ backyard to the lake. Sitting down on the edge, you wince a little as your bare feet hit the cold water. Kai’s little sister, Bahyyih, sat next to you. The two of you caught up, talking about mutual interests such as fashion and karaoke. Eventually the conversation ends up on the man you can’t seem to get out of your mind . “You know, Kai has been practicing more guitar along with drums again.” Bahiyyih proudly states, obviously with an adorable sense of pride in her brother. “Really? Is he any good with it?” You ask, genuinely curious. You always liked it when Kai played music for you growing up. You’d rest your head on his shoulder as he practiced strumming chords on acoustic. His clumsiness adding to the allure. “Of course! You know how easily he learns when it comes to music. You should ask him to play for you soon!” You nod happily in agreement, you’d take any excuse you could to get closer to him. 

Suddenly, you and Hiyyih hear a chorus of whoops and excited yelling. Whipping your heads around at the source of the noises, you find Kai and his older sister Lea racing recklessly towards the lake. Jumping past you and Hiyyih, they plunge into the lake with a big crash. “Hey!!” You complain, water completely soaking your face and hair. “You got us all wet!” Says Bahiyyih, evidently sharing your discomfort. “Ugh!” Lea and Kai grown in unison, like you guys rained on their parade. “You two should join us,” chimes Lea. Bahiyyih giggles as she jumps in, joining her siblings who turned their attention to you. “Come on, Y/N” begs Hueningkai. You huff in annoyance, “I didn’t plan on getting wet today!” Hueningkai swims towards where your legs lay over the edge of the dock and in one swift motion, yanks you down into his arms. “HEY!” You screamed, landing a playful punch to his cheek. He just laughs. “Catch me if you can!” He says childishly before sticking his tongue out and swimming away. You felt like little kids again. 

Swimming to him, you exclaim “Got you!”, arms wrapped around his neck from behind. “Oh noooo!” He says sarcastically before shimmying your hands off of him and swooping you into his arms. Bypassing Lea and Bahiyyih, he sets you back up onto the docks, your jeans shorts absolutely ruined by lake water at this point. “I win,” he says, grinning up at you. 

The sun is setting by the time you guys get out of the lake, and having already eaten it’s time to relax. One problem though: because you didn’t plan on getting wet, you also didn’t bring a change of clothes. Hiyyih and Lea offered, but Hueningkai insisted you wear his. Something about it being ‘his responsibility’. You stepped into the bathroom holding the articles of clothing that Kai lended you; a simple black shirt and a pair of shorts he had long outgrew. You began undressing, peeling your wet clothes off of you and taking a shower using some of the girls’ products. Stepping out of the shower, you looked towards the loaned pile of clothes. That’s when it hit you. Underwear. You had none other than your previous pair that had been soaked by the lake. Shit.

You were wearing Kai’s clothes with no underwear. The thought of it made you twitch in anticipation. Ignoring the heat between your legs once again, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing Kais clothes. You then plopped down on the couch next to him. 

Your family was spending the night at their house, but only one guest room for your parents to share meant that you had to room with one of the girls, which you didn’t mind. You knew you’d probably end up spending the most time with Kai, though, considering you two were the closest. After some more family bonding, you followed Kai to his room. You’d seen it plenty of times, decorated with posters of his favorite bands and memorabilia of things that meant a lot to him. Not to mention the cute stuffed animals he had a spot on the bed for. Remembering what you talked about with his little sister earlier, you spoke up. “Hey Kai, I heard you’ve been practicing guitar. Can you play something for me?” You say, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Hueningkai can’t take it. His girl, in his clothes, on his bed, asking him to play music for her? It was all too good to be true. “Of course, doll” he says. There we go with that nickname again. There’s no way it wasn’t intentional, and you were at your breaking point. After unpacking his guitar, he sits next you and begins to play a song he’s been practicing. 

“Hey stupid” you say, tugging on his sleeve. Fixing his attention on you, Kai playfully responds “Hey idiot, what’s up?” 

“Call me that…” you say, voice quiet and shaky with your nervousness. He stops playing. “What was that?” 

“I said don’t call me that-doll!” You say with an irresistible pout. “It’s making me feel weird…I’ll get the wrong idea.” You say. Shifting uncomfortably on his bed.

“What if I want you to?” He asks quietly. For the first time in a while, Hueningkai looses the confident tough guy act. You just stared back at him, mouth agape, unable to believe what you were hearing. “Nevermind,” he says in defeat at your lack of response. “

“Hueningkai…I love you.” you say quietly, finally snapping back into it, and before you realize it, you’re entrapped in his large build, chest buried into his chest. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that, Y/N.” he admits  gleefully, looking down at you. “I love you too. Since we were kids. I’ve never even looked at anyone else…it just had to be you.” 

Looking up at him, beaming, “We promised, remember? I’d be yours when we grew up,” you remarked. “Of course I remember!” He says, still holding you close to him. “Except you specified that it would be when I got tall and handsome,” he says, raising an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “So you think I’m handsome? Right?” He asks, teasing. “Shut up idiot,” you respond, knowing you were caught. The unaffected Kai just giggled, *gently* tossing his guitar onto the floor of his bedroom. He then pulls you back into his chest and flops down onto the bed with you cradled prettily in his arms. “All mine” he says possessively, sending chills down your spine and into your core as he nuzzles into your head. You internally curse. ‘Not the time,’ you internally tell yourself. 

You and Kai talk for hours about various things. How he’s transferring to your college because of the offer he got for music, how life has been, how your relationship will develop moving forward, etc. Honestly? You wanted to move as quickly as possible, already having wasted enough time with pent up emotions towards him. With a sudden burst of confidence, you interrupt him while he’s rambling about whatever came to mind. He was just way too cute. “Kai, kiss me.” You demanded. “Not even a please?” Kai asks with a fake pout on his face before kissing you, as per your request. It started off sweet and innocent at first, but quickly turned heated as Hueningkai deepened the kiss, licking at your bottom lip for permission. You readily obliged, wanting nothing more than to be as close to him as possible. He pulls away from you, looking at you with half lidded eyes as a string of saliva connected the two of you. He wasted no time before diving back towards you, peppering kisses onto your exposed neck and collarbone. “You have no idea what you do to me, doll,” he says with his lips still on your neck. “Sitting in my bed with my clothes on…” he continues, his sultry tone making you grow wetter by the second. “Lying here, acting like you weren’t pathetically moaning my name last night.” Your heart practically dropped to your stomach. “W-what are you talking about?” You stammered, desperate to lie. He pulls away from your neck to make eye contact. “Why are you pretending? After sitting right next to me, giggling while texting whichever guy you were entertaining, you went and had a wet dream about me. Admit it,” he says through knitted brows. You nod as you turn your face away in embarrassment. “I was texting my friend Sabrina…not another guy!” You say defiantly. “Whatever, my point is that it took everything in me to not pounce on you then and there. Even today, when you wore that skimpy little outfit.” He shakes his head in frustration. “I’d ask if you were sure about going further, but considering you were just begging me, I don’t think that’ll be necessary, huh?” He remarks cockily. “Hyuka, just shut up and touch me.” You say with perturbed annoyance, hiding your face in your hands. “Your wish is my command, Y/N.” He says before sliding the shirt he let you borrow off of your body, a soft audible gasp leaving his plush lips after he realized that you weren’t wearing a bra. Picking up where he left off on your neck, he began to bite and suck at your plush skin to his digression. He flicks a tongue across one of your nipples earning a gasp from you. Hueningkai takes turns worshipping your breasts with his lips and slender fingers. “Kai—fuck— more,” you moan out, wetness soaking through the material of your shorts. Your body was begging to be touched. “So needy,” Kai remarks harshly after releasing your breast from his mouth with a hash pop. 

Gently sliding his old shirts down your frame, he winces at the sight of your bare pussy, strings of wetness connecting you with his shorts. “No panties? Did you really want me to fuck you that bad? How naughty of you Y/N…” He trails off “No I promise I didn’t! My clothes got ruined when you threw me into the lake! I promise!” You exclaim, obviously frustrated with the lack of friction. You were just so desperate him to finally claim what’s been his all this time. “Hmm” he hums, rubbing a finger between your wet folds, making your body convulse. “Sorry about that,” he grins cheekily, not bothering to look you in the eyes; He was just too focused on the lewd sounds your cunt was making as he teased it. “Kai quit teasing me!” you exclaim as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “My needy babydoll,” he sighs, working a long finger into your hole, hissing at your tightness. You let out a loud moan as your fantasies were finally coming true. Hueningkai’s eyes meet yours, glazed over and unfocused as your mouth lay open. “I’ve wanted this so bad, Kai. I wanted your fingers so bad,” you admit, not caring about how pathetic and desperate you sounded. “Cute” Hueningkai observes as he pumps another finger into you, obviously enjoying your reaction. He scissors his fingers into you, stretching you out thoroughly with the sheer size of them. “Do you want to cum on my fingers, pretty girl?” He asks you. “Please!” You beg loudly, Hueningkai halts his movements. “You really can’t keep a secret can you? Hush unless you want everyone to hear you coming undone on my fingers.” He told you sternly. With a nod of agreement from you. He continues fingering you, sliding a third finger into you as he presses a thumb to your clit causing you to jolt in pleasure. “Kai!” You exclaim, forgetting about your volume yet again. “I know you usually don’t listen to me, but this is ridiculous even from you, Y/N” Kai says as he leans forward—hand still assaulting your pussy—and shoves two of his fingers into your mouth. “This should shut you up, yeah?” You moan in agreement around his fingers, earning a satisfied him from him. Choking on his fingers, you finally cum, body convulsing as he pulls his fingers out of your gushing cunt and brings them into his mouth. He sucks them clean before grabbing your face and leaning in for another wet, passionate kiss. 

“Ride me?” 

He asks, eyes almost pleading as he pulls way from your lips. You nod. He chuckles at your enthusiasm, stripping and lying back on his headboard. He motions for you to join him by patting his thigh. You obliged, positioning yourself on his legs with your hands on his abs. You couldn’t help but stare at his erect member, hard and sticky. He had obviously been pent up for a while. “Someone’s happy to see me” you joke. Hueningkai grabs your waist,sliding you forward so that you were pressed up against his erection. “Don’t act all cocky as if I didn’t just fuck the cum out of you with only my fingers,” he criticized, shutting you up. Picking your hips up and aligning yourself with his tip, you slowly lowered down until fully seated, mouth agape. He practically kissed your G spot with his length. Eyebrows knitted together in pleasure, you began to slide up and down his cock. Hueningkai looked no more composed than you did, mouth open with a fucked out expression on his face. Not being able to take the slow pace you were going at, Kai grabbed your hips and rutted into your tight hole. “Fuck” he grunted, “mine. my pussy. All mine.” He says as he throws his head back, continuing to thrust into you. Your hand flew up to your mouth as you tried to conceal your noises. Hueningkai lowered his hips and held yours to a halt, “I’m going to get you pregnant at this rate,” he says, flipping you into missionary and continuing pounding into you at a harsher rate. One of his hands snakes down to abuse your clit again. “Kai, Kaikai ‘m gonna come,” you moan incoherently. “I know baby, me too,” he answers. With one last thrust, you cum on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm before pulling out and spilling his seed on your stomach. “I love you so much Y/N,” he pants, flushed red and sweaty hair sticking to his forehead as he presses a kiss to yours. “I love you too” you mutter weakly before he cleans you up and dresses you, the both of you falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

————-

“KAIII! Have you seen Y/N-oh.” Bahiyyih says the next morning, seeing the both of you asleep in his bed together. 

“Lea you owe me $20!” She yells, shutting the door and running down the hall.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[yuriisclumsy]

Sending in a request for a Genshin or Lout fic! I’ll give you a few prompts you can choose from (you only need to pick one) and write a fic for who you think suits it best!

intuition, obvious, (il)logic, test, levity

((thank you so much and no rush!!)) - @paimonial-rage

Intuition

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2058

[Authors Note]: OMG I'm so sorry guys for the late update! Something went wrong and now is now I figured it out. So here you go! It took me a while to figure this one out, but I managed to get something going. This is a gift for another blog, @paimonial-rage! They do Genshin requests (fanfiction with reader insert) for anyone interested.

»»►Cale has an intuition that [Name] is in danger.

»»►...

»»►What?

»»►That’s all I’m telling you, no spoilers for you!

The high walls of the Roan Kindom’s palace stood the testament of war being waged at its firmament. It had been many a time someone dared to destroy it, but none came close to achieving their goal.

Not when there was a great commander in charge.

In one of the many rooms withholding secrets never to shed light to the world in the palace, stood two esteemed figures; one, bearing the crown, the other, his most trusted friend and sworn-brother.

“Cale, Cale, what will I be without you?” The ever-loved crown prince–now king–asked.

“You’d still be a crown prince fighting to retain the crown, Alberu,” Cale sipped his tea nonchalantly, ignoring the unamused face he was getting.

Alberu sighs from the otherwise boring reaction. “Even after all this time, you’re still trying to piss me off. And here I thought that perhaps marrying that  girl would make you more sensible.”

“Then you guessed wrong, my king,” Cale slightly vowed.

“Stop that.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” he gave a polite smile.

Alberu shook his head and let out another sigh. This won’t stop until Cale won, so it was simpler to just surrender. “How is married life going for you?” He took his tea and blew to calm it.

“It's actually going well,” Cale responded, thinking back on his experience so far.

He got married a while ago, two months ago, to be precise. It had been slow, sharing the same room with someone, but they had adjusted just fine ...aside from the fact that his wife moves a bit too much when she sleeps. Cale learned to either build a fortress of pillows that separated them or hug her the whole night–though this option comes with sweat greeting them the next morning.

“I’m still not used to her being in my—our room,” he corrected himself. “And when will you get a wife, huh? Don’t you think the kingdom deserves a queen?”

Alberu threw daggers at him mentally, hoping he’d drop dead where he stood. “Haha…funny.” He placed the cup down on the table where the saucer was. “Although…it would be nice to have someone to share my troubles with,” he looked Cale in the eyes when saying that.

Liar. You want me to ask so I can fix your messes, Cale thought, internally scuffing at the man.

He put in his diplomatic smile. “Oh, but your highness. You always can share your concerns with me, your most loyal subject. I can assure you that even the future queen would agree with me.”

“Ha! You’re a bastard through and through,” Alberu crossed his arms in amusement.

Yeah, right. The only bastard here is you—! Cale’s cup fell lento, as if time had slowed down entirely.

Alberu’s eyes widened in surprise, “Cale, are you okay?” He stared at Cale to see if it was another of his antics but he looked completely still, with his face growing paler by the second. The king shot up thinking of the worst. “Damn it! Is it poison?!” He checked the teapot for any unusual smells.

“No, no,” Cale patted the king, who by now was by his side, to calm down. “I just…had a shiver run down my spine.”

His sworn brother remained silent for a short moment, and then his mouth opened. “If it were a mare shiver, you wouldn't have reacted like that. Cale, I know you. And the you, I know, doesn’t fear much.” He grabbed Cale by the arms, “now tell me, what made you react in such a way?”

“...” Cale looked at him and then at the floor, unsure of what to tell him.

“Cale…” Alberu shook him a little, firming his hold a bit more, to show that he was there if it were something bad.

“*sigh*...I got this feeling…” he paused, inhaling grimly, “that something bad is going to happen to [Name]. But, it’s just a feeling. It’s probably my overthinking, you needn't worry about it.”

Alberu was at a loss for words. Yes, with fame and power, came great danger. But he didn’t think that his friend–his brother-in-arms–would be so unworried for a thought like that.

No… He was more worried about it than he let on.

He released his hold on Cale, straightening himself.

“Alberu?” Cale looked up from the loss of pressure, “did something happen?”

“...You need to go,” he said.

“What?”

“You need to go,” he repeated.

Cale could only stare, not sure why he was saying that. “But…why?” He looked like a small child who had lost their mother in the market and was asking for help from a stranger with a sad look on their face.

“Oh, for heaven's sake…” Alberu’s hands clutched themselves to Cale’s coat, “damn it, you dense donkey! You had a thought about your wife being hurt, you need to go, and make sure she’s in perfect shape like the good husband you are!!"

At this point some of the knights were hearing the commotion inside but dared not intrude on the scolding from a mother to their child, it brought trauma none of them wished to relive.

“So you will stand up,” he brought Cale to his feet, “and go to your wife!!”

And that’s how Cale Henituse, the great commander of the Roan Kingdom, was promptly kicked out and banned from entering the castle until the king received notice of his wife’s safety.

Cale gawked at the castle for a few minutes after that. He looked like a fish out of the water: stupid.

He sighed out of his daze. “Ron?” He turned to his butler who accompanied him on his trip.

“Yes, young master?” Ron vowed.

“Get me home as fast as you can,” he ordered as he opened the carriage doors and climbed in, shutting the door in the process.

“As you wish, Master Cale,” Ron got up to the carriage’s coachman seat. Taking the leach of the horses, he made a swift movement, and the horses were galloping towards the exit.

The path home was peaceful. Yes, there were a few pours here and there, but that was only for a bit. What could not find rest, was the man inside the carriage.

He fidgeted sporadically, his leg went up and down in impatience, and his eyes fixated on the outside where they could see the slightest glance of his territory's walls. Anything that could calm his unease.

I should have brought Raun with me, or a magic item that could teleport me back faster. He thought of all the things he could have done to fasten the transportation to his manor.

The sight of walls and a flag in the distance made Cale happy.

Home. Alas, he was closer to his wife.

The carriage passed the high gates of the city, not needing to check inside for threats when the man who had saved them plenty of times was inside. The knights saluted as he entered.

Arriving at the manor, he dismounted the carriage walking to the entrance. A few servants waited right outside the door, vowing to greet their master. He stopped just as he passed the doors, making his two trusted butlers look at him: one in worry, and the other in amusement.

“Master Cale?” Hans called. “Is something the matter?”

“...Ron,” he said his butler's name without looking back.

“Yes, Master Cale?”

“Can you do me a favor, and go hunting for a few loud quails?” He said.

Ron smirked. “As you wish, Master Cale,” he vowed before turning and leaving the manor.

“Quails?” Hans asked, “But we already have plenty of them.” His eyes widened, “please don’t tell me what I think that is referring to…”

Cale continued to the gardens where he knew his wife would be. “Don’t worry about Hans. You’re not the one getting their hands dirty with animal feathers,” he said with a smile.

“Please don’t smile when you say that…” he looked nauseous.

…

The wind blew swiping and budging any object its strength could move. The wind chime followed the rhyme of the calm breeze as it passed through. Soft humming that sounded like they belonged to a fairy filled the air of the manor’s garden. It came from the lady of the house; a beautiful and delicate flower, who married the lout son of the family.

She lowered herself to be a few inches from the bed of flowers planted for her by her husband's wishes;.He planted them for her happiness; she loved flowers as much as she loved him. 

Her hands lifted a white tulip, her eyes observed its color and physique. “You have grown from the last time I saw you,” she songily whispered. “Cale would be happy to see you like this.”

People often gossiped how, in their eyes, she took care of the plants like if they were her children. Yet, they know not that these small greeneries are as alive as any other living creature. They can call her crazy all they want, for she already found someone that loves her. Even if he did find this fixation of hers a little odd.

“Happy to see who?” a voice asked from behind.

Her head turned to see who it was that questioned her, but her smile made it clear that she knew who it was that asked.

“Cale,” she said his name, love surrounded his name. She stood up to greet her one and only husband. “You’re back so soon, I thought you said you would be in the capital for 10 days.”

“Something came up for the king, so I decided to come back,” Cale embraced her warmth. She smelled like the flowers she loved.

She returned the hug by wrapping her arms around him, “you missed me that much?”

“Shut up,” he scuffed and let go of her.

She giggled in response. “Hehehe, didn’t you though?” her eyes met his, “you missed your wife so much, that you came running here.”

“As if. I had no other business in the capital other than meeting with his majesty.” Excuses. His wife could tell. He might think that he's not that easy to read, but for her, he was like a poster in a billboard right in the public's eyes.

“Sure, sure…I believe you.”

“No, you don’t, [Name].”

“Yes I do!” She pouted.

“Master Cale,” Ron made himself known as he walked towards them.

“Ron!” [Name] ran to the old butler. “Ron, won’t you agree that Cale came back so quickly because he loved his wife so much, he couldn't spend a single day more in the capital?” She asked, dramatizing the whole thing to embarrass her husband.

Ron had the smile only a demon could have when they had their enemies greatest weakness.

“Don’t you dare,” Cale warned.

“Oh, but I must agree with Lady [Name],” he closed his eyes, “The young master whined the whole way here. “Oh, how I wish I was next to my wife. My sweet, and beautiful, [Name]...”” Ron was mocking him. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Damned old man…

“I see, I see…” she nodded along. She was enjoying this far too much.

“Okay, that’s it,” he stepped towards them and grabbed her by the arm, “we’re leaving.”

“Awe, if you wanted to have me all to yourself you can always ask,” [Name] placed a hand on her check, cooing at Cale.

“Why did I marry you?”

“Because you love me!” She gave him the happiest smile she had; the same one she had on their wedding day; the same one she had when he asked her to marry him; the same one she had when he pronounced his love. It was her normal smile.

“...” Cale had a blush on his face. He caught the smug smile from Ron, and that just made him instantly frown, ruining the beautiful moment. “Let's go,” He continued to pull her along. She giggled at his antics.

“Oh, Ron?” he halted.

He smiled, “Yes, young master?”

“Did you finish your hunt?”

Ron’s smile widened. “Yes. We’ll be having 6 quails for dinner.”

“Great,” he resumed his pace.

“Wait, I thought it was beef for dinner today.”

“That too.”

“???”

Fin

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Master-List

[berryispunk]

Florida Heat

Chapter 8 of "Rain Down on Me" for the April Showers challenge by @jolapeno

series masterlist

pairing: Frankie Morales x ofc! reader (Summer)

tags: enemies to ???, emotional chaos, Frankie being soft, we're slowly getting there, unresolved tension, one bed trope, all the feelings, they are just idiots

notes: we're almost done with their story. only today and tomorrow and we are fucking finished. thanks so much to every single one of you who sticks around and watch these two being absolute disasters. mwah 💋

word count: ~ 3,7k

Weeks passed, slowly dragging on without much happening at all. 

And yeah, okay, the kiss haunted him a little.

Not in a bad way. Just in that ‘it was always there in the back of his mind’. Lingering in the quiet moments. In the way you’d looked at him after, cheeks flushed and breath uneven, like maybe you wanted to say something but didn’t. In the way you left his car with a quiet, “bye,” and he’d said it back, grinning like a dumbass because he didn’t know what else to do.

You hadn’t talked about it, neither had he.

You saw each other—group stuff, little gatherings, drinks at someone’s place—but nothing private. No alone time, no late-night texts. Just a few glances across rooms that felt heavier than they had any right to be. Every time he thought about bringing it up, his throat got tight. Every time he thought you might bring it up, you didn’t.

So, yeah. The silence stretched and Frankie lived in it.

He lived in it on quiet nights, too, the kind that dragged long past midnight when the house was too quiet and his bed felt too empty. He’d close his eyes and remember how you tasted—like rain and sugar and everything soft he wasn’t supposed to crave. And sometimes, when he was too wound up to sleep, too full of everything he wouldn’t say, he let his hand drift low and thought about the sound you made when you kissed him back.

Shaky, breathless, like it wrecked you a little just as much as it did him.

Yeah, he thought about that, more than once.

He’d stare at his phone sometimes too—the last message from you still sitting there, that dumb little joke about Gary with a typo in it that made you look like you’d been rushing. He never replied, neither did you. But he opened that thread more than he’d admit, thumb hovering over the keyboard like a coward.

What would he even say?

That he couldn’t stop thinking about your mouth? That your pullover was still in his passenger seat, and sometimes he reached for it without thinking—like a habit. Smelling the rain and you in it, clinging to the fabric like if he just held on tight enough, maybe you’d come back.

That he’d already screwed this—whatever this was—up before it even had the chance to start, just like he ruined everything else he cared about?

Until that one Saturday night on Will and Monica’s balcony—their new place, all modern and full of light, the one you and Frankie had helped them move into when you still claimed to hate each other. Back when everything was sharp edges and bickering and you called him “airlift boy” just to get under his skin.

That felt like a lifetime ago.

The last traces of rain still hung in the air, same as all the weeks before, clinging to the heavy summer heat. The whole street smelled like city pavement and leftover beer, thick and familiar. Their group was crammed together outside, loud and buzzing with that half-drunk, half-happy energy that made everything feel bigger, messier, more. Monica clinked her spoon against a wine glass like she was hosting a damn awards show.

“Okay,” she said, eyes shining, “we have something to tell you.”

Will looped an arm around her waist. “We’re getting married!”

“Next month!” Monica added. “We’re doing it at that little hotel in Tempa—by the water, remember?”

Cheers erupted. Someone whooped. Benny shouted something about open bars and second chances, and the group dissolved into chaotic, joyful noise. But Frankie—he looked at you.

And you were already looking at him.

It wasn’t a moment—not exactly. Nothing flashy or loud. Just a breath where the space between you shifted, stretched, and whatever simmered under the surface didn’t feel quite so out of reach anymore. Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, his didn’t either. And for the first time since that night, something tightened in his chest—not panic, not longing. 

He knew now, you were thinking about it too. About him. The kiss, the not-date. The way you hadn’t really talked since.

And suddenly, forever—weddings, shared lives, big declarations—didn’t feel like some far-off, someday thing. It felt like a mirror held up right in front of him.

And it scared him—knocked him clean off center. Because in that fleeting moment, you were looking at him in a way you never had before—soft, unguarded, without the usual bite or shield. Just you and your beautiful eyes, mirroring everything he felt.

You looked away first, laughing at something Monica said. But your fingers toyed with the edge of your drink, twisting it slowly on the table. Frankie clocked it, filed it away.

Because he wasn’t imagining it.

Something had shifted, permanently, and this time he wasn’t gonna let it slip by.

—

You didn’t even realize you were drifting until Monica caught your wrist, pulling you aside as the others erupted into another wave of laughter.

"You're quiet tonight," she said, voice light but edged with something knowing. "Not your usual ‘roast everyone in sight’ vibe."

You tried to shrug it off, but Monica just raised an eyebrow, waiting. You cracked first.

"We kissed," you said, low, like it might somehow undo it if you spoke too loudly.

Monica blinked. "Wait. What?"

You laughed under your breath, a little helpless. "After the fair. The whole ‘not a date’ thing? Yeah. We kissed."

Monica smacked your arm lightly. "And you’re just telling me this now? Are you kidding?"

Her voice pitched higher, half horror, half delight. "I thought you two were still in the slow-burn, 'I hate you but actually I’d die for you' stage!"

You shook your head, trying to smile, but it didn’t quite land.

"It didn’t fix everything," you said. "We haven’t really talked about it since. And now…"

You trailed off, glancing across the crowd. Frankie stood a few feet away, laughing with Will, his head tipped back in the soft gold light.

Your chest ached.

Monica followed your gaze, quiet for a beat.

"You’re scared," she said finally. "But you don’t have to be. You don’t have to turn this into a joke or pretend it’s not real."

She bumped her shoulder against yours, gentle. "I know he’s a little chaotic sometimes. But he’s steady where it matters. I’ve seen it. And you deserve that. You deserve someone who shows up, even if it’s messy. Especially if it’s messy."

You swallowed hard, a knot tightening in your chest.

Monica squeezed your hand once, steady and sure. "Besides," she added with a wicked grin, "you kissed him after a fair. That’s like, straight out of a romcom. You're already halfway there."

—

It was so fucking hot.

The kind of heat that stuck to your skin and refused to let go. Your shirt clung to your back, your hair frizzed the second you stepped out of the car, and the air felt like soup. Disgusting, unforgivable. And of course, this was the exact moment the hotel decided to be a nightmare.

“What do you mean the reservation’s not there?” you asked, trying very hard not to snap at the guy behind the counter. He blinked at you, clearly already over it.

“I mean,” he said with a customer-service smile so tight it looked painful, “we only have four rooms. And you’re the fifth couple on the list.”

“We’re not a couple,” you corrected automatically.

Frankie standing beside you, made a small, very unhelpful noise that might’ve been a laugh.

You shot him a look that could’ve curdled milk and he froze.

The guy behind the counter raised an eyebrow shaking his head. “Regardless. We can bring up extra towels.”

You stared at him, searching for the punchline. “Towels?” you repeated.

He nodded, a little too quickly. “There’s a king bed in the room. It’s... quite spacious.”

The longer you stared him down, the smaller he seemed to shrink behind the counter.

You turned to Frankie, blinking slowly. “Spacious,” you repeated flatly, one eyebrow quirked in annoyance.

“Look,” Frankie said, clearly trying not to smile, “it’s not the worst situation.”

"It’s exactly the worst situation," you said, feeling the sweat pooling at the small of your back the longer you stood in the hotel lobby. All you wanted was to take a shower and call it a day, but instead you were stuck facing the incompetence of this fucking hotel—and you were the one paying for it. You wanted to cry.

“You’ve slept next to me before,” he reasoned with you.

“That was different,” you hissed.

He looked at you, brows raised. “How?”

You didn’t have an answer. Not one that made sense at least. Not one you were willing to say out loud. Because how was the whole goddamn problem, wasn’t it?

The difference was now you’d kissed him. The difference was now you thought about it at night, during the day, and all the silent moments in between.

The difference was now you’d seen the way his mouth softened when he looked at you, like he remembered too.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and turned to the counter.

“Fine,” you snapped. “One room. But I’m taking the bed.”

“You’re not taking the bed.”

“Wanna bet?” you bit back.

Frankie shrugged, all maddening calmness. “We’ll share. Like adults.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but nothing came out. Just heat and frustration. And the kind of spiraling awareness that made your skin feel too tight.

This was going to be a disaster, you knew it, felt it.

And still—your fingers brushed his when he took the keycard. And neither of you moved away.

—

The door clicked shut behind you with a dull thunk, the soft mechanical whir of the hotel AC kicking in like a distant whisper of mercy. At least you no longer felt like melting.

You didn’t move, Frankie didn’t either.

The silence stretched, humid and unbearable. Even the air conditioning couldn’t cut through the heat—Florida in August felt like walking through someone’s mouth. And now you were stuck in it, in this single room, with one man and one bed and an entire kiss neither of you ever talked about.

You dropped your bag harder than necessary.

Frankie wandered in behind you like he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with his limbs. His curls were damp with sweat. His t-shirt clung to his back. You didn’t look, you refused to look.

“So,” you said finally, voice dry as hell, “you’re taking the floor.”

He made a noise behind you that might’ve been a laugh or a sigh or some combination of both. “You’re really gonna make me sleep on this carpet?”

You turned around slowly, arms crossed, voice biting and irritated. “Do you want to spoon me all night, Francisco? Is that it?”

That shut him up, for a beat at least.

Then he gave you a look. A slow, unreadable, hot look that made your stomach twist and your breath catch, and God, this was such a bad idea. Sharing a bed with the one man who made your blood boil in more ways than one.

He broke the tension with a shrug. “It’s just a bed, Summer.”

It was not just a bed. It was him and you. And the weight of every charged moment between you, stuffed into 300 square feet of over-air-conditioned disaster.

You crossed to the bed without looking at him and flopped down with more force than necessary. Your arms went wide like a starfish. “Fine. But if you so much as breathe on me in your sleep—”

“I’ll be dead by morning. Got it.”

He sounded amused and you hated that you liked the sound of it.

The room was quiet again. You could hear him moving behind you. The rustle of fabric, the shift of the mattress as he sat down on the other side. It dipped beneath his weight. The closeness of it made your skin buzz. The heat outside had nothing on the heat in here—the kind that came from tension and silence and something still unspoken.

After a long moment, you muttered, “This is going to be hell, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer right away. You could practically feel his smirk before you heard the quiet, amused, “Probably.”

—

It was dark.

The kind of hotel-room dark where everything still glowed a little—exit signs, charger lights, the soft neon spill from the parking lot outside. The AC kicked on in bursts, but it couldn’t do a damn thing about the heat. Not really. Not when you were there. Right beside him. Close enough to hear the rustle of sheets every time you moved.

Frankie laid on his back and stared at the ceiling like it had answers.

It didn’t.

His whole body was tense. Achey. Muscles tight from travel, from the stress of the room mishap, from the million things he wanted to say but hadn’t. From you—from the way you sat cross-legged earlier, arms crossed and eyes full of fire, announcing he’d be sleeping on the floor like it was a threat. From the way you gave in, flopped onto the mattress like the bed was the enemy instead of him.

Now you were right there, inches apart, yet somehow farther than you’d ever been.

Breathing slow. Not asleep—he could tell. Your body was too still, too aware.

He kept his hands folded over his stomach. Kept them there even though every part of him screamed to reach across the divide. He wanted to brush his knuckles down your arm. To feel if your skin was as warm as he imagined. To see if you’d flinch or lean into it.

He turned his head, just enough to see the faint outline of you. You were facing away from him. The dip of your waist, the shape of your shoulder, your hair spilled across the pillow. Messy, sleepy. Perfect.

Fuck, he wanted to touch you.

Not just to fuck you—though yeah, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. About the way you kissed him that night in the car like you meant it, like you’d been holding back for months. He’d thought about it too many nights since. Thought about your mouth, your breath, the sound you made when you finally kissed him back. He’d touched himself to the memory of you. More than once. Quiet nights that felt too heavy, too long. 

He didn’t know what stopped him from texting you again. Maybe it was fear—of screwing things up, of saying the wrong thing. But then again, what was there to ruin if it never even really started? Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t texted him either.

And yet, here you were, squeezed into this painfully small bed. He couldn’t sleep—could barely breathe under the weight of it all: his feelings, the tension, and the thick, humid air pressing down on him like a hand on his chest.

He shut his eyes.

“Summer,” he whispered before he could stop himself.

He didn’t even know what he was asking or if you were still awake. If you remembered the kiss. If you felt it too—this crackling in the air between you, thick with all the things unsaid.

You didn’t answer, but you shifted.

You rolled over slowly, quietly, until he could feel your face turned toward his in the dark. So close now, he could taste the heat of your skin, and it traveled down his spine, the tension crackling between you like a live wire.

“You still think this was a bad idea?”

A long pause.

Then, barely a breath: “I don’t know.”

That wrecked him, because it wasn’t a no and it wasn’t a yes. It was uncertainty and want and hope all rolled into one. It was the closest thing to a confession either of you had managed in weeks, months.

Frankie swallowed hard as he turned toward you, just a little.

Didn’t touch you, didn’t move closer even if everything in him screamed at him to do it. The silence held you both in place while the night stretched on forever, tormenting, relentless.

You didn’t say anything else, or moved, didn’t push or pull away. But Frankie could hear you breathing. Could feel it, actually—soft exhales brushing his skin like whispers, like maybe your mouth was closer than he thought.

He didn’t plan it.

Just reached out, slow and quiet, like you might spook if he did it too fast—and brushed a strand of your hair back from your face. It clung to your cheek, damp from heat or sweat or just the impossible pressure of lying here like this, pretending the tension between you wasn’t real.

His knuckles grazed your skin, soft and barely there.

You inhaled, just a bit too sharply—enough for him to know it affected you too. And that alone nearly undid him.

“I think about it,” he whispered.

He didn’t clarify what, he didn’t have to. You knew.

The kiss. The way you leaned in first. The way it ruined him for anything else after.

Your breath hitched.

Then—so quietly he might’ve imagined it—you whispered, “Me too.”

His hand lingered near your jaw, your skin warm and soft under his touch. He couldn’t stop himself—his thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone, gentle and reverent, like you weren’t just a girl in his bed in Florida but something more, something he’d been reaching for his entire life.

You didn’t stop him, just looked at him in the dark, eyes shimmering in the indirect light. 

And Frankie—wrecked, wanting, hopeless—did nothing. He let his hand fall away eventually, lying back against the pillow. He stared at the ceiling like it owed him something he wasn’t sure he could have.

But you didn’t turn away this time. You stayed facing him as you drifted off to sleep. Looking like a fucking painting, one they put in the Louvre. And that—God, that was enough to keep him awake all night.

—- 

Frankie woke up to a cold side of the bed.

The thin hotel sheet tangled around his legs, the sun already too bright through the slats of the blinds, and that same too-thick Florida heat pressing into his lungs. He blinked, sat up slowly, and looked over—You were gone.

A note would’ve been too much. A text might’ve made it real. This fleeting moment of softness between you. Instead, all he had was the faintest ghost of your scent on the pillow beside him, the echo of your breathing from the night before still stuck in his ribs.

You said, me too.

And he hadn’t done a damn thing about it. Idiot.

He dragged himself out of bed eventually. Took a lukewarm shower that did nothing to fix the ache in his chest or the throb of heat low in his spine that hadn’t really gone away since the moment you curled up next to him.

You’d stayed close. You stayed.

And then you left.

It was fine. He wasn’t spiraling about it, not really.

He trimmed his beard, put on the button-down Will had made him promise to wear, and showed up to the hotel garden for the ceremony like he wasn’t unraveling slowly from the inside out.

And then he saw you.

And his entire brain just short-circuited.

You stood near the front, helping Monica adjust her veil with that signature soft concentration on your face, the one you didn’t even know you wore. Your dress—deep green, silky, low-backed and fucking dangerous—clung to every curve he’d only imagined before. And you looked over your shoulder at someone calling your name, just for a second, smiled, and his knees almost gave out.

“Holy shit,” Benny said beside him, not even pretending to be subtle. “She’s hot.”

Frankie didn’t answer, he couldn’t. Just stared, jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

Because yeah, you were hot.

But more than that—you were you. The girl who acted like she couldn’t stand him but still teased him until he couldn’t help but smirk. The girl who fought him over the worst playlists, only to laugh it off like you didn’t mean it, like there wasn’t some truth hidden beneath every sharp word. Never afraid to call him out on his bullshit. The girl who, after all the pretending, ended up curled into him in the dark, whispering truths neither of you could admit when the light was on.

And now you were in this dress, at your shared friend's wedding. Looking like that.

Frankie swallowed. Shoved his hands deep into his pockets like that could somehow ground him, keep him from flying apart. Because you were standing there arms crossed like you weren’t aware of the fucking chaos you caused just by existing. You looked gorgeous. Infuriatingly, impossibly gorgeous. And it lit him up from the inside out, burned through every last thread of restraint he had left.

He hated that you could do this to him. That after everything—after months of pretending, of sharp words and colder silences—his body still reacted like you were gravity.

You were laughing at something someone said, eyes crinkled, drink in hand, and he hated how badly he wanted to be the one making you laugh like that. You were infuriating. Sharp-tongued, stubborn, a menace to his peace—and the only thing that had felt right in months.

Benny followed his gaze, then let out a low whistle. “You’ve got that dumb face again.”

Frankie didn’t answer.

“She’s not even doing anything, man. Just breathing. And you’re over here looking like she invented it.”

Frankie exhaled slowly, jaw tight. “She drives me insane.”

Benny snorted. “Yeah? I’d say you've been in love with her ever since that party at Santi’s—when you found out she was Monica’s childhood friend.”

Frankie cut him a look, but Benny just grinned. “What? You remember it. You stared at her like she walked off a goddamn movie screen.”

Frankie’s voice was rough, quiet. “I didn’t know what to do with it.”

“And now?” Benny raised a brow.

Frankie looked back at you—your smile, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear like you didn’t know you were leveling him. “Still don’t.”

Benny clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re so screwed.”

Frankie nodded once. “Yeah, I know.”

thanks for reading 💌

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[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part 6

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: (I’m kind of rusty about appropriate warnings so let me know if there’s something I need to add or correct) You dose yourself with poison, he cuts his arm with a knife, you drink his blood, knife play, oral sex female receiving, dirty talk, p in v, some light praise, dubious consent, inappropriate use of a dagger/anal, he fucks you and the dagger essentially fucks him, breeding/pregnancy kink, unprotected sex, creampie, black cum ofc, no aftercare

A/N: Alright this chapter is…a lot. The knife scenario I read a few years ago in “Den of Vipers” by K.A Knight and it completely changed my brain chemistry. It inspired me to include a similar situation because it’s so Feyd coded😂😭

Also credits to @sansaorgana for mentioning how Harkonnen blood would be thick and effected by Giedi Prime’s environment and pollution. I love discussing Feyd’s body fluids

Weeks pass before Feyd-Rautha corners you in one of the Baron’s sparse gardens. Garden being a slight exaggeration — really, it’s more of a barren courtyard with a bench. Until your fearsome betrothed strode in, your only company was a few scraggly bushes and the fledgling pilingtam tree keeping you in the shade.

Feyd-Rautha hooks his finger in your book and pulls it away. “Come with me.”

You glare balefully at him. “I was reading that.” It’s the only Harkonnen novel you’ve found that you can stomach. “You can’t just beckon me whenever. Or — and this is blasphemy, I know — you could just ask me if I want to go with you.”

Feyd-Rautha closes the book. “No.”

“You lost my page,” you say with a pout. You debate teaching manners to him again, briefly, before sensing that you’re fighting a losing battle. So instead you snatch the book from his hands.

“Two hundred and thirty eight. Now,” he fixes you with a stern look, “let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

Frankly, you don’t care where he’s taking you. Since the Crucible, you’ve been anxiously waiting for something to do besides answering questions about your upcoming nuptials. Your body aches for purpose. Movement. You also realize, with mixed feelings, that you would probably follow Feyd-Rautha wherever he asked you.

What did that say about your state of mind?

“It’s time for training,” he says.

You trail after him, vaguely disappointed that you weren’t going to finish your book. You tuck it under your arm. How bad could poison training be? Maybe you’d have time to flip through a few pages. Feyd-Rautha eyes you as if he can tell what you’re thinking, but doesn’t comment on it.

The fortress is in full swing for the wedding, which looms only a month and a half away. You would think that’s plenty of time to prepare. But servants are hanging decorations, comparing tasks, and cleaning everything in sight. They quiet as you and Feyd-Rautha stroll past them, and you search their faces for Asha.

She’s been just as busy as everyone else. Everyone but you, of course, who, despite your prominent involvement in the wedding, has been left to your own devices. You weren’t exactly thrilled to dose yourself with poison, but at least it gave you something to look forward to.

“How did you first go about this?” You ask the na-Baron. It’s a strange comfort to be in the presence of someone so unperturbed, confident and assured to a fault, sure, but you knew what to expect from him. He was an asshole, but he would be one regardless.

“Poison tolerance?” He asks.

“No, long walks through the fortress.”

Feyd-Rautha ignores you. “It’s a precaution, mostly. Poison-snoopers can be faulty or influenced. It also gives me an…edge…over others.”

“The others being…?”

“Political allies. Enemies.” You catch the hint of a grin on his lips. “It cuts a formidable image when your guest has no concern for poison.”

“As if you don’t already,” you retort.

“You flatter me.”

“Oh, like you’re not aware.” You roll your eyes. “Where are we even going?”

“Somewhere private,” he says.

You raise your brows. Feyd-Rautha pushes his shoulder suddenly against what you thought until that point was a wall, but it swings open on an invisible seam. “Not like that,” he says, amusement coloring his tone. “Although I could never refuse you, wife.”

The room he leads you into is mostly bare except for a few maps on the walls and a table in the center. You recognize the surface of the table as the topography of Giedi Prime, the vast plains and tiny boxes representing the plethora of factories. You ghost your fingers over it. “What is this place?”

“My strategy room.” When you glance at him imploringly, he sighs and adds in a resigned tone, “Sometimes I find working with the other nobles tedious. I spend my time alone if possible.”

“Hm.” You sit down at the table and try to imagine Feyd-Rautha presiding over it, testing out battle strategies and war maneuvers.

You must sink too far into your own thoughts because it startles you when he sets down a small glass in front of you, nestled in the space between two miniature factories. “We need to start small,” he tells you.

“What is this?”

“Poison.”

You shoot him an annoyed look. “It would just be nice to know what poison I’m ingesting, is all.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He plants his hands on the table and assumes a position that you have a hard time believing he doesn’t know stirs something dark within you. “I’m going to be giving you small doses of poisons most typically used throughout the Known Universe.”

“You’re so kind,” you mutter.

He nudges the glass closer to you. “This is the weakest one of them all. We can work our way up, gauge their effects on you.”

“Like what?” You think back to the day in the arena with Ze’ev, how the flip-dart hidden in his clothing quickly incapacitated you, turning your thoughts to sludge.

“Fatigue. Nausea. Potential fevers, chills, heart palpitations.”

“Oh,” you say miserably, “is that all?”

“No, actually,” he replies, oblivious to your fear, “but sometimes it’s better not to know. Drink.”

Your stomach twists with nerves. But he’s watching you in that anxiety-inducing way he tends to, so you tip the contents of the glass down your throat. He smiles.

Poison training is hell.

You’re not sure what you expected, but it’s not this — constantly being gripped by fatigue and nausea, your body battling persistently against the poisons.

The beginning was the worst. You had never thrown up so much in your life. Feyd-Rautha assured you that you were tolerating the poison better than most, but you highly doubted that. You were couch-ridden for days on end, too weak to move or do much more than eat the food he forced you to. But, slowly, you adjusted to the poison, and Feyd-Rautha gave you higher doses, stronger strains.

A week away from your wedding, he declares that he won’t give you anything new. “But you must continue to take the poisons from before,” he tells you. “Or your body will lose the tolerance and also go through withdrawals.”

Today, however, is one of the worst days you’ve had. You did everything right, but for some reason you were rendered completely helpless, body racked by intense shivers. You are huddled in the corner of the couch in the antechamber when Feyd-Rautha finds you, stopping him in his tracks.

“H-H-Hi,” you sputter.

He crosses the room in a single stride, ripping off your blanket and assessing your shuddering form. “You used too much,” he says accusingly.

“I-I-I did what you-you told me,” you protest, albeit weakly.

His frown pierces you. You’re afraid he’s going to reprimand you, but instead he takes a step backward. “Go to the bed.”

“I-I’m f-f-fine. I can s-stay here.”

He looses a sigh then, effortlessly, sweeps you off the couch and over his shoulder. You want to fight against him but it’s taking all of your strength not to shiver and let him know just how poorly you are.

“Put me d-down,” you try your best to say, but with your face buried in his back, it comes out muffled.

Feyd-Rautha resists your pitiful attempts of subterfuge, and carries you into the bedroom like you weigh nothing. It’s your first time actually being on the bed, and his faintly medicinal scent pervades your senses. Had you ever even seen him sleep in here before? How did it smell so strongly of him?

He props you up against the pillows. You attempt to pull up the bedding to ward off your chill, but he stops you, which requires little effort on his part. You blink. In reply, he reaches into the top drawer of his bedside table and takes out a blunt-looking dagger.

“W-What are y-you doing?”

Feyd-Rautha presses the blade of the dagger against his forearm, cuts a thin line that weeps with a thick, dark liquid that you realize is his blood. You feel dizzy.

“Wh-What —”

“Just stop talking,” Feyd-Rautha growls. “We clot quickly. Drink.”

Drink? You're not entirely sure how well your emotions are coming across in your current state, but he must know how insane he sounds. Well, more insane than usual.

"I-I'm not —" Before your eyes, his dark-colored blood ceases. He utters something under his breath and then puts the dagger to his skin again, cutting it back open like slotting an envelope.

He captures a drop of it on his thumb and pushes it between your lips.

It doesn’t taste quite as bitterly sweet as his cum, you decide, but possesses the same sharp bite. It sears slightly as it dances on your tongue, down your throat.

“More,” he says. He sits down at the edge of the bed and raises his forearm to your mouth.

With no other choices, you obey.

The blood is thicker here, his skin warm beneath your mouth as you lick at the shallow wound. Any strangeness you felt at his request vanishes as the potency of his blood hits you. You hungrily take your fill, and by the time the wound closes again, it’s chased away your chills and the murkiness evading your mind.

“There,” he rasps. He sets the dagger down on the bed, still sporting a trace of his blood.

“Why…why?”

Feyd-Rautha’s lips twitch. “Harkonnen blood is its own sort of poison, courtesy of our planet’s pollution and smog. I suspected it would be enough to counterbalance the poison already in your system.”

You fixate on the wound, how the blood has already congealed. “It stopped,” you say stupidly. But how could you be expected to think properly — you had just drank from his arm, from his blood, to stave off poison that you’d willing ingested.

Feyd-Rautha nods. “Another benefit.”

“Anywhere on your body? It does that?”

He indicates the dagger. “See for yourself.”

A chill runs through you, but now for an entirely different reason. You inch closer to him, tucking your legs under you. He’s agonizingly close, his dark gaze flickering across your face as you take the dagger and touch the tip of the blade to his chin.

“Is that just a ploy so that I’ll cut you?” You ask, heart pounding furiously. You discover with a sickening twist that you do want to cut him, want to slide the blade across his smooth skin and watch the way the blood rises to greet you.

Feyd-Rautha breathes, “Perhaps.”

You’ve never seen him so transfixed, so compliant. Eager. And with his very blood in your veins, emboldening you, issuing a high like you’ve never felt before — you press the blade into his skin. Blood trickles out, and you use your tongue to lick it up, the metallic taste of the blade mingling with the sharpness of his blood.

Next you take the dagger across his jaw, down the column of his throat to the divot that flutters with his pulse. And then down down down to his chest, shearing his shirt with a single slice.

Feyd-Rautha has an infuriatingly perfect chest — muscled, small, tight nipples that you tease with the edge of the blade. He inhales sharply.

“You’re disgusting,” you say without conviction, your free hand gliding down his toned stomach.

He tilts his face up to you. The gesture is so vulnerable, his expression so devastatingly beautiful, that you climb into his lap. His cock, straining against his pants, nudges your center.

“I hate you,” you tell him.

He whispers, “I know.”

There’s no telling who kisses who first — an impasse to your game of trading punishments. His hands are on you in an instant, over your body and in your hair, clamoring to touch you as if you might disappear at any moment. You’re equally as fervent, notching your thumbs by his jaw on either side and holding him to you, mouths open and hungry. His tongue dances over your lips, behind your teeth.

Feyd-Rautha is his own kind of poison, infiltrating you slowly and feasting on your insides. And you take him in like his kisses are the anecdote, the touch of his hands soothing the ache that his particular brand of poison causes.

Though, if he is poison, you can never imagine adapting to this — his passionate, consuming touch, the whine of his desperation, how he embraces you like it’s everything he’s ever wanted. No, if he is poison, you never want to learn to tolerate him.

His fingers work deftly at your clothes. The air rushes to caress your breast, hardening your nipples. Feyd-Rautha closes his lips on one as he palms his hand over the other, and the wet warmth of his mouth sends you to the edge. Your back bows in response, urging him closer. He bites down at your nipple, tugs on it, swipes his tongue over it like a soothing balm, then repeats the process on the other side.

As soon as your mind clears enough to form a rational thought, you fumble to unbuckle his pants. He helps you — one hand on your ass for support as he lifts up his hips and you wriggle his pants down over them.

His cock, liberated from his pants, slaps against his stomach. He fists the base and indulges in a series of lazy strokes.

Fuck.

“Fuck,” you say aloud.

Feyd-Rautha, returning his mouth to yours, smirks against you. “Your turn.”

He flips you over onto your back in a seamless maneuver, securing your legs around his waist. Feyd-Rautha lingers above you. His dark gaze roams your form as you shimmy out of your dress, leaving you only in your panties. Sometime before he grabbed the dagger, and now uses it to trace a line from between your breasts to your navel.

You gasp. Pain radiates from the thin cut he made, a terrible, delicious heat.

It’s his turn to tend to you now, hands coasting your body as he licks a stripe up your wound and back down, your blood blanketing his tongue. He pauses at your panties, uses both hands to seize you by the hips and drag you to the very edge of the bed, then kneels before you.

You’re already slick with desire and you want to be ashamed but you can’t, not when he ghosts his mouth over your center and you cry out in need.

“So wet for me, wife,” Feyd-Rautha growls. “You want this cock inside you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out. You claw at the bedding, pulling it taunt around you.

“Oh, but I’ve been waiting for this. To taste you. God, you don’t know how hard it’s been knowing that you’re always just on the other side of that door.” Feyd-Rautha replaces his mouth with the dagger’s blade and you clench in anticipation. The tip of it traces the edges of your panties, your lips, nudges against your entrance. “You infuriate me. I cannot stop thinking of you.”

You’re too overwhelmed to make sense of his admission, but it sends a ripple of delight through you nonetheless. You buck your hips, desperate for the friction that only his mouth can provide.

“Please,” you beg.

The blade of the dagger stills. “Please what?”

“Please.”

You can’t think of anything else to say.

He urges, “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“I want your mouth on my —”

Feyd-Rautha impatiently cuts away your panties, effectively silencing you. His mouth encloses on your clit. Your words turn into a wail of surprise, of pleasure when he applies pressure with his tongue and then sucks.

Ecstasy spirals through you.

It shouldn’t be a shock that he’s skillful at pleasuring you, at lapping between your lungs like your cunt is the sweetest dessert, yet it still resonates — how he knows exactly when and where to lick, to suckle, to coax more pleading moans from you with his tongue.

And when you come you unravel completely.

“So greedy,” he murmurs as you rise your hips back up to him, beckoning him to continue. “You try to rebel against the idea but you want this cock buried deep inside you, coating you with my cum. Is that right?”

“Yes —”

He slams himself up to the hilt inside you. You cry out in equal parts agony and desire, back bowing, walls stretching to accommodate him. Feyd-Rautha doesn’t wait for you to adjust, drawing out and back in with feverish vigor. His hands pin you to the bed to keep you from arching away, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“You feel incredible,” he says, your name falling from your lips like a prayer. “So nice and tight.”

You clench around him. Feyd-Rautha mumbles his appreciation, slows his movements. “I won’t be able to last if you keep doing that,” he tells you, “you feel so good. So fucking good.”

You put up a protest as he withdraws, leaving you feeling horribly empty. Feyd-Rautha turns you onto your belly, ensures that your knees are at the edge of the bed, ass up. A mortifying heat surges through you — completely exposed, vulnerable to his wandering gaze. He runs his hand over your ass, drifts to your soaked cunt.

“I want to possess you wholly.”

You whimper in response. You hear movement from behind, and, in the absence of his attention, dip your hand down to your cunt to alleviate the mounting pressure, but you’re declined the pleasure.

“I didn’t say you could touch yourself.”

He lines himself with your entrance. This time when he seats himself inside you it’s painfully slow, deliberate, every inch driving you closer to another orgasm. Feyd-Rautha starts a slow pace, pulling his cock out till his swollen head brushes past your lips, then back in. Eventually he increases his speed until he’s snapping his hips against you, penetrating you deeply, fully, invoking breathless sounds from both of you.

Feyd-Rautha pursues his pleasure the same way he fights — violent, ruthless in its execution. You’re aware, somewhere in the recesses of your mind, that you’re going to be a quivering mess tomorrow. But in the moment you can only immerse yourself in this man: Feyd-Rautha, the na-Baron, a monster in his own right.

In a burst of bright light, an orgasm cleaves you in half, Feyd-Rautha pumping into you until it surrenders to his darkness. Before you can even recover, you feel the familiar coldness of the dagger’s blade biting into your back, down your spine, circling your ass.

He brushes his thumb over your ass. “Have you ever been taken here before?”

Your breath hitches. “Once.”

Feyd-Rautha emits a satisfied hum. From your peripheral you watch him reach into the bedside table again, this time to fish out a cloth to wipe down the dagger. Your walls clench.

“I want to see this dagger in that pretty ass of yours.”

Feyd-Rautha traces your cunt, gathering your wetness on his fingers to coat the handle of the dagger. He spits on your ass, rubs it over you. “You have to relax,” he rasps. The handle of the dagger pushes against you and you instinctively flex as the first ridge enters you. “Relax, wife.“

You oblige, and he’s able to ease the rest of it inside. It’s tight, full, uncomfortable, but not unbearable. When you feel Feyd-Rautha notch himself at your entrance, alarm seizes you. “What are you —?”

He plunges himself inside you.

And as he does, the blade of the knife punctures his skin with a soft squelch.

You gasp. A growl rumbles through his chest. You can’t see, but you can hear the blade pierce him with each ministration of his hips. You can’t believe him, what he’s doing, but the sounds he makes as he enters you and the dagger enters him at the same time are inescapable, intoxicating. And with the added fullness of his cock and the handle of the dagger, you build towards your orgasm, toes curling.

Feyd-Rautha sinks into you again and again, dagger piercing his side. It prompts a steady stream of his blood that joins with your slickness. His breath quickens. “You take my cock so well. Look at you, so full, so beautiful.”

He slows to remove the dagger from you, taking his time as not to harm you. You shudder. The dagger is tossed to the side still covered in his blood.

“I get to fuck this pretty pussy as much as I want,” he rasps, more to himself than you. “Fill you with my seed, over and over until it takes, then fuck you when you’re pregnant and round with my child. Fuck. I want to see you. I want to see your face as I cum inside you for the first time.”

The image he paints has you gasping for breath. Eager to please, you turn onto your back and present yourself to him. Feyd-Rautha is a god of war, of wrath, wreathed in shadows, and he buries himself into you like he’s seeking redemption. You cry out as he nears his own orgasm, tears blurring your eyes — he sheathes himself fully one final time then spills his seed in your cunt.

Your walls pulse, clamping down around him. He holds you close as he finishes, warm breath fanning your skin, jolting slightly. It’s only when he removes himself, bites playfully at your breast, that you realize the wetness you feel dripping onto your belly is his blood.

“Feyd — what, what were you thinking?” You shove him off you.

He stands, naked form on display, blood dribbling down from the wound in his stomach. It’s distracting, frankly, and it just reminds you of how it had gotten there.

“I wasn’t,” he says simply.

You open your mouth to say something else, reprimand him, maybe, but then he runs his fingers along your thigh and scoops up the cum that’s escaped from inside you. He pushes it back into your cunt, which is still beating with the memory of his cock, blissfully sore.

Feyd-Rautha says, “Don’t worry about me, wife. I will heal. You worry about keeping me inside you.”

He stands to walk away and as he does, you mutter to no one, “I wasn’t worried” although you were. You tilt your hips up. Getting pregnant isn’t exactly your top priority right now, but the alternative is having his cum dribble down your thighs, and the black fluid is a little concerning to see smeared across your skin.

What child could be born from such a substance?

You angle your head to see Feyd-Rautha. He stands at the threshold of the bathroom, back turned to you. You admire his physique. For all of his misgivings — his psychotic tendencies, the murder, the way he plays his games with you — he’s irritatingly attractive. You close your eyes and let your head thump onto the bed.

You open them again when you hear the bedroom door swing open. “Are you leaving?” You ask, exasperated.

“Yes,” Feyd-Rautha says. He’s dressed, sadly. “I have other business to tend to.”

You scowl at the implication of being business.

“I’ll be back before the wedding. Keep up with your tolerance. Just know that I won’t fuck you every time you over dose,” he tells you. A million questions jump to mind — and quite a few curses — but he’s gone before you can say any of them.

Spent and still reeling from your recent fucking, you collapse back onto the bed and throw your arm over your eyes. What were you doing?

You were going to marry him.

Part 7

Taglist:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper

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[hockeyboysimagines]

Work wife

A Vince Dunn blurb for @cellythefloshie. This is not in any way related to Fuck me like I’m famous. This is just a fun blurb we talked about brought to life.

Warnings: Sex, cheating

“There’s my work wife.”

You half turned to find Vince coming down the hallway smiling at you.

Working for the Kraken was a dream come true really.

You couldn’t actually ask for a better job, or better environment to be in. It was a tight knit group full of great people who worked hard, and got along well.

And then there was Vince.

You two had clicked from the beginning. He was easy to talk to, and you liked him a lot. The more time you spent together, the more you got to know him and the more comfortable you became with him.

Maybe too comfortable.

Which is how you wound up screaming his name one night after drinks, after the flirtation between you guys had finally boiled over and spilled into his apartment. It had been extremely awkward when you saw him on Monday, but when he caught you in the parking garage and asked to talk, you’d agreed. And that’s how it all started. Secret meetups, sneaking around, and even texts from a fake phone number, your assistant “Jessica”, to keep things under wraps. It felt both wrong, and exciting, but you just couldn’t stop. While it had started as a secret hookup, it hadn’t stayed that way. There was genuine feelings there now.

The term “work wife” had started as a joke, thrown out by a coworker of yours, who obviously had no clue what was happening behind closed doors, but it stuck. There was really only one problem with it.

You were someone’s real life wife.

The idea of Vince made your husband clearly uncomfortable in the beginning, before anything was actually going on, but there wasn’t really anything you could do about it, and you didn’t really want to either. Your husband was a good guy, but being around Vince made you realize you really didn’t have a thing in common. He was 8 years older than you, and you had married young, feeling the pressure from your family to marry someone who was financially stable. You “loved” him, but you weren’t really “In love” with him, at least not anymore. Not that you were in love with Vince either, but your feelings for him had drowned out the feelings for your husband. And beyond that, you had suspicions that he was embroiled in his own case of infidelity.

You felt really bad at first, but then he started staying late, random business trips with no warning, and you’d even found a receipt for purchased jewelry that you hadn’t received just last month. He often smelled of perfume and the lipstick you’d found on the inside of one of his shirts was a color you’d never worn. You hadn’t confronted him because you just didn’t care, and truly you had no room to talk.

It was a rock and a hard place situation that you’d landed yourself in, but the thrill of it all overrode the anxiety of being found out.

Not only would you lose your job, your respect in the work place, and your marriage, but it would also put a black mark on your career moving forward and make Vince look bad, none of which you wanted.

He made his way past you and winked, but then paused at the end of the hallway, just below a camera so he couldn’t be seen, and motioned for you to check your phone. You absently pulled out your phone, turning away from him so it looked like you just happened to get a message.

Meet me in the room.

“The room” as he called it was a vacant room in the basement of the arena that was used mostly for storage, and sat in the middle of a hallway that was void of cameras. It wasn’t ideal, but sometimes there was no other choice. There was few places you could go with him that he wasn’t recognized here, so you were limited to the room, his apartment and your place only if your husband was on a business trip out of state and even then it was risky.

You took the long way, careful not to rush, giving small glances here and there to make sure that no one was following you, and slipped into the hallway that your office was located, which conveniently also led the the hallway he was waiting for you in.

You made you way down the corridor, a set of stairs and then down to the vacant room. He was leaned against the wall, eyes moving up your bare legs and you neared him.

“Hi wifey.” He said smiling cheekily as he held the door open for you, allowing you to step inside before following you in. You gave a little shudder as the room grew dark when the door closed and you felt his hands on your waist.

“You look nice today.” He said in your ear, turning you to face him. Goddamnit he was gorgeous, even more up close. In curiosity you had done a google search of him right after you’d started working there and saw that everyone else thought that too, not to your surprise, but you were lucky enough to see all his body parts up close and personal and you felt bad for the people who didn’t get to.

“You say that to me everyday.” You ran a hand up his arm as he reached forward to press his lips against your neck.

“Well then I guess it’s true.” He said softly, hand gripping your chin as he pulled his mouth off your neck and caught your lips a very hot, wet kiss.

You felt a heat start to spread in your stomach as he backed you up against a table, tongue pushing in your mouth, cutting off your air. The way he moved his tongue against yours made your heart race, fingers gripping at your blouse, which was tucked into a pencil skirt, and pulling it loose so he could unbutton it, and hoisted you up to sit on the edge of the table. His hands, slightly rough against your skin as he reached the bottom button and ran his hands up your waist, pausing at your bra and pulling away from you.

“Is this new?” He asked breathlessly gesturing at your bra.

You nodded and watched as he reached a hand forward and ran a finger across your collarbone, down your chest to your sternum, hooking a finger in the front band and running it along your ribs.

“I bought it just for you. It matches these.” You gestured down and inched your skirt up to reveal black underwear. He smiled slowly eyes staying on them for a second before they moved back up to yours and he smiled.

“Can’t wait to take them off.” He reached down hooking a thumb on either side of them and gave them a tug, pulling them down your legs, hand coming back up your legs to pull one up underneath your knee, and to spread the other one wider, leaning you back as he eased himself into you.

Your head fell back, hair spilling off your shoulders as he pulled out and pushed back in. You felt a hand on the back of your neck as Vince pulled you up to kiss him, pushing in and out finding a rhythm. You caught his lip between your teeth, and he gave your hair a small tug, goosebumps erupting across your skin. It truly never got old feeling him inside you and his hands all over you. He brought you to highs you’d never been at before and each time was better than the one before.

He angled his hips upward and hit a spot you didn’t know existed and you cried out, biting down on your lip to stop from making too much noise. A curl at the front of his hair fell across his forehead as he picked up his pace. Your lower back was screaming in pain as it hit repeatedly on the table and you felt your legs begin to tighten and heat explode in your stomach as a crippling orgasm swept from your lower half to your upper half, Vince’s lips at your neck as it shuddered through your body and your vision went spotty. You gave a shaky breath as he slowed his pushes and let his head fall forward, breath hot on your neck. After a moment he picked his head up to look at you.

“You’re amazing.”

You blushed and pushed the curl off his forehead, as he helped you down and handed you your underwear. You gingerly pulled them back up, and took several deep breaths attempting to cool yourself down.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked reaching a hand out to intertwine his fingers with yours “Come over after work for a little bit. What time does he get home?”

“6:30. I guess I could for a little bit.”

“Great.” He smiled widely and gave you one last short and sweet kiss before he left the room, making his way back to wherever he was planning to go and you made your way to your office, now tasked with spending the next three hours at your desk having to think about him, and what you would be getting into with him later on.

You sometimes wondered if keeping this thing you had going with him was for the worst rather than the better. How bad would it hurt to rip off the bandaid when it inevitably went south, or had to end due to whatever reasons. And what would happen if he met someone else?

Would you be cast aside? Replaced? A side piece?

You couldn’t handle that. And it wouldn’t be fair, which you knew because it wasn’t fair to him that he was currently a side piece. He didn’t seem bothered, or he was a great actor because he never spoke up about it when you asked and even managed to crack a joke about it here and there for your benefit. But it still wasn’t right. And it wouldn’t be right to drag this out knowing he should have the right to go out and meet girls without having to wonder what would happen with you and him.

You got so absorbed thinking about it, you lost track of time and nearly ended up staying past your clock out time, rushing to get out of the arena and over to Vince’s. He greeted you with his usual “wifey” at the door and pulled you inside.

After your second romp of the day, your breath evened out, you checked your phone and sighed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him.

He shook his head “Don’t say it-“

“Time to go.” you said quietly, sitting upright and grabbing your bra and blouse. You heard him sigh behind you and lean back against the headboard. It was quiet for a while as you hooked the clasp, and pulled the blouse over your shoulders. You hated this part. The afterglow wasn’t even over and you had to leave, go home and play housewife to someone you barely even had conversation with day to day. You’d not been intimate with each other in over a year, since you’d started working for the Kraken, because you were both getting it somewhere else. It felt silly to continue to live a lie.

“I think you should leave your husband.” Vince said off handedly from behind you.

You paused and turned slowly “What?” You said eyes moving up to meet his as you buttoned your blouse.

“You heard me.” He said from his spot on the bed “I said I want you to leave your husband.” He was looking at you straight faced, serious and not joking. He’d made lots of “leave your husband” jokes over the last few months, but he wasn’t kidding this time.

You gaped at him “I-Why?”

“Please.” He rolled his eyes “I think it’s pretty self explanatory. I mean if you really loved him would you even be here?” He gestured around.

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been going over this in your head for months, and you’d come to the conclusion that your husband just wasn’t it.

“Even if I would….Id have to quit for this to go any further.”

Vince pursed his lips “I mean. I can’t ask you to do that, but I do know that you should leave him. And I think you know that too.” He added quietly “I mean even without me in the picture, it wouldn’t be any different.”

He was right.

Part of why you took the job with the Kraken was to fill your time and pull yourself out of being a housewife and hanging out with all his business buddies perfect wives. Working with the Kraken gave you the freedom to do your own thing and be whoever you wanted to be, rather than locked up in that condo.

You nodded “Your right. But what about my job? I can’t be with you and work here.”

“Let’s worry about that another time. I can help you with this.” He reached forward and gripped your hand “I just really want you to be happy.”

You were quiet for a minute, eyes focused on the bedsheet as you realized this could be your one chance to get out of the mess you were in. Your one opportunity to truly change the direction of your life. Maybe things never went forward with Vince, but maybe they did. Even if they didn’t, he had given you the confidence to make changes and leave a guy you didn’t even love, and for that you would always be thankful.

“Well?” He asked after a few moments of silence.

You looked up and took a deep breath “Do you promise? To help me?”

He nodded eyes lighting up “Yes. So are we really doing this?” He looked so hopeful, leaned forward, eyes bright. It was actually making your heart hurt how beautiful he was at that moment.

You nodded “I think- I think so.”

He smiled the most beautiful, breath taking smile you’d ever seen on him, which you didn’t think was possible because they were all beautiful, but this one was different.

“This is going to change your life I promise you. I’m going to change your life. For the better.”

“You already have.”

He pulled you right back down, kissing you like he never had as you became a tangle mess of limbs and clothes and you felt like things would get better for the first time in a long time.

Maybe being a work wife wasn’t so bad.

[srjlvr]

SEVEN ROYALTIES

“once upon a time there was a prince, who did anything he could to be with the love of his life” — park sunghoon.

park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: childhood friends to enemies to lovers , one sided love somewhere into the story , heavy angst , fluff ! warnings: character’s death (not a main character) , curse words. (lmk if i missed something pls!) || NOT FULLY PROOFREAD!!

WORD-COUNT ; 5.5K+

NOTE. wow i dont even know where to start! it’s been a real while! i think like more than a month, i’m extremely sorry for being gone, school is so stressful, but i got some time to write now and honestly? i missed it so much!! hopefully you’d like this part and don’t let it fool you, just because i’ve been gone for a while doesn’t mean i’m not continuing this wonderful series!! it was also supposed to be enemies to lovers but i honestly failed miserably and idk how to define it- some mentions of sunoo’s story are dropped here too :)

“why do you always look at me like that?”

“like what?”

“like i’m the most precious thing you’ve ever saw”

a few years into your childhood and you were already been told that you’re going to marry off to someone as soon as possible.

you, being the second princess and the least favorite one, had to deal with a lot of struggles through your childhood.

everyone loved your older sister more, praised her, cherished her, spoiled her, gave her whatever she wants.

you, on the other hand, had to work hard in terms of getting what you wanted.

you always looked up to your older sister, you can’t lie, you definitely understand why she’s getting all the attention to herself without even trying.

your mom is your favorite person, she’s actually your best friend.

some kids have hard time deciding what to answer when they’re being asked who’s their favorite parent, but you definitely know the answer already.

it’s your dad that never bats an eye to you, your mom however always tries to maintain her attention to both you and your sister. you’d do anything for your mom.

as much as you’re happy that you’re at least not a second option in your mom’s perspective, the king is the one who’s more dominant.

you’ve always tried to get your father’s attention, even for a mere second, but he always pushed you away, making you feel unworthy and sad.

at age six, you were forced to go with your mom to one of her friend’s kingdom, your neighbor kingdom.

everyone in royalty knows about the good friendship your kingdoms have, and they’re all surprised it still keeps on going.

royalty comes with a dangerous risk, people will always look at anything you do, and will not hesitate to attack if you happened to do something they’re not a fond of.

your kingdom suffered lots of wars, but won almost all of them.

at the very same day you were forced to go with your mom, you also met the person who finally had all their attention on you, the person who you could rely on no matter when.

“i’m y/n!” you extended your hand out with a smile.

“i’m sunghoon” he whispered and you tilt your head. he wasn’t shaking your hand and you couldn’t even hear him.

“what?”

“i’m sunghoon”

“i cant hear you!!” you shout and put your ear really close to his mouth.

“i’m sunghoon!” he shouted into your ear and you fell down while holding your ear.

“you did that on purpose didn’t you!” you pout and he laughed.

that’s when you realized his cute smile and the little dimples that grew on his cheeks.

he was cute, a cute and shy prince, you could get along perfectly with him.

and you actually did. you spent the rest of your visit just roaming around their castle.

he introduced you his six brothers, they were all very nice and funny, but only sunghoon interested you.

he told you about his interests and you told him about yours.

“i want to learn how to skate!” he said and you noticed his eyes growing in excitement while talking about it.

“it sounds really interesting!” you smiled and cheered him.

“what about you?”

“i actually don’t know” you sighed, “i want my father to pay more attention to me”

“who needs your father when you have me? i’ll be always here for you” he smiled.

“really?” you asked and he nodded, “really”

“promise me!” you held out your pinky and he locked his with yours, “i think promises are stupid, but only for you i promise to never leave you side”

“why are they stupid?”

“because sometimes you regret them, or even forget them, and you cant keep them forever”

growing up with sunghoon was something you could never explain.

having to suffer your father’s comparisons between you and your sister was something, but having to see sunghoon going through puberty was something else. scarier indeed.

the both of you were inseparable, to the point where your parents even started talking about marriage between the two of you when you were twelve.

every now and then in your teenage years, you’d come around his castle, your second home.

whenever you were pissed off with your father or just wanted some quiet, you’d find yourself going back to sunghoon, only he knew how to make you feel ten times better.

“what are you reading?” he asked you.

you were laying your head on his lap as he sat under a tree, it was a peaceful day and you wanted to enjoy some time with him.

“just some fairytale stories” you put your book on your stomach and looked at him who was already looking down at you.

“wishing it was you?” he teased.

you rolled your eyes and smacked the book on his head, “fairytales are the best!”

you returned to read the book while he kept staring at you.

“read for me” he asked and you looked at him, sharing an eye contact.

“hey”

“hm?”

“why do you always look at me like that?”

“like what?”

“like i’m the most precious thing you’ve ever saw”

sunghoon coughed a bit and looked away, “just start reading please, im interested”

“the princess then took the prince’s hand and held it tightly, slowly closing the gap between them and leaning in for a kiss—“

“never mind! i’ll just go sleep” sunghoon threw you off him and laid down next to you.

“you could’ve done that nicely!” you scoffed and he laughed.

he can’t explain it, but something about you makes him feel warm and comfortable. he loves your company more than anything else in this world and there’s nothing he loves more than staring at your gorgeous face.

spending a few years together made him long for you more and more every day that he’s not next to you.

he fell in love with you, and he fell hard.

you weren’t better either, every day without sunghoon for you felt like eternity.

he’s the only person you can see your future with, the only person who loves you for who you are and the only person that has his full attention on you.

you trust him more than you trust yourself and you family members.

on royal events, you’d be acting like a married couple, shooing away the singles royals that wants to catch you.

you belong to sunghoon and sunghoon belongs to you.

“it’s nice to meet you prince sunghoon” one filthy princess introduced herself to sunghoon while you stood by his side, holding his arm.

“likewise, meet my wife, y/n” he said, clearly uninterested in the princess but as soon as he looked over his side and met your eyes a smile formed on his face.

the princess scoffed and went away, finally letting you and sunghoon laugh it off.

“did you see the way she looked at you when you said you have a wife?” you held a hand over your chest, out of breath because of the amount of air you let out.

“please, it was so funny i’ll remember it for long” he nodded and you continued making jokes about everyone around you.

you shared your first kiss with sunghoon when you were fifteen.

“i love cherry blossoms” you said as you walked together with sunghoon under the cherry blossoms.

it was one of your favorite things to do with him, walking through the long road, hand in hand.

“and i love you” he let out.

“what?”

“what?” he repeated after you.

“what did you sa-“

he cut you off with a kiss, your first kiss.

cherry blossoms fell from the trees and the wind caressed your skin.

his lips were soft, locked with your lips. it was perfect, the kind of fairytale you were always wishing you could have finally came true, with the person you loved the most.

when you parted your lips to get some air, both of you giggled and he put his forehead against yours.

“i said i love you” he smiled.

“i love you too”

regardless of the sudden confession, you decided to stay as friends, and when the both of you will feel ready, you’d try it out.

at age sixteen, your mother’s condition started to go downhill. she got sick and had to take medical exams every now and then, ever since then, you decided to spend time with her as much as you could.

“good morning mom! how are you feeling today?” you asked with a huge smile on your face when you saw your mother.

“feeling as usual, nothing new” she gave you a weak smile, “have you eaten yet?”

you shook your head, “i was at the garden after father had his daily complains over me, i needed to take some breathes”

your mother nodded and hugged you, “i’m sorry your father is like that, if being a selfish father was a competition he’d definitely win”

both of you giggled and spent a few hours together.

you never told sunghoon anything about your mother’s condition, every time he’d ask about her well-beings you’d say she’s doing well but she’s too busy with duties, and he’d suspect nothing.

at the age seventeen, your mother’s condition worsened, she had doctors around her all the time.

“hello mother” you smiled.

“y/n! good morning” she tried to smile back.

“how are you—“

“i must ask you something before it’s too late” she cut you off.

“what is it?”

“i’ve been thinking about it for a while, and it might be silly and selfish of me to ask you to do that” she sighed, “please promise me you’re going to marry sunghoon”

“what?” you asked confused.

“he’s treating you well y/n, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you happier than when you’re with him. you’re perfect for each other” she nodded, “i don’t have much time left, hearing you promising you’d marry the man who makes you the happiest, would help me leave peacefully, to know that you’re going to live the life you deserve”

“i promise mom, i promise i’ll marry him but please, you have much time left, don’t say such nonsense!”

your mother hugged you and thanked you. guess it wasn’t so well-hidden that you were in love with sunghoon.

on one of the days your father called you. before walking inside his room you rolled your eyes, what kind of a complain he has now?

“hello father” you looked at him coldly.

“y/n,” he called, “i need to ask you to do something”

“huh?” you looked over him confused, “you never ask me for favors”

“your sister is too busy with her duties, so i trust you with this one” he shortly explained.

“okay,” you nodded, “what is it?”

“i need you to come with me to visit the other neighbor kingdom—“

“but we were never on good terms with them, they’re hybe’s kingdom biggest rivals too!” you cut him off.

“they’re the only ones that can help us with your mother’s condition. we must do anything we can to help her” your father sighed, “they have a son who’s interested in you, they requested to see you too”

you shook your head, “i’m not interested in him—“

“this is the only way to help your mother!” he shout and you backed away.

“what about hybe kingdom! can’t they help in any kind of way?” you argued.

your father shook his head, “they can’t do anything about it, and they must not know about your mother’s condition”

“so going to the rival kingdom and risking your good friendship is better?”

“you’re coming with me and it’s final”

a few days before your visit in your neighbor kingdom, sunghoon came over.

before he went to search for you, he heard two servants talking about something that drawn him to it.

“did you hear about y/n’s mother’s condition?” one of them said.

“it keeps on getting worse, poor y/n! i heard she has to go to the other kingdom to ask for their help together with the king” the other replied.

“i heard they’re the only ones that could help! hybe kingdom knows nothing about it because they don’t want to bother them too much, i also heard the son of the other kingdom is interested in y/n, what about prince sunghoon!”

“poor them, i just hope she won’t end up with their son. i was rooting for y/n and sunghoon endgame”

“agree, i also heard their daughter is interested in sunghoon! this is risky” she shook her head.

“y/n is strong, she won’t marry the son i just know it” they both nodded their heads and sunghoon slowly walked back.

he refuses to believe what he just heard. y/n’s mother’s condition worsens? y/n marrying someone else? he’ll never let that happen.

“sunghoon!” you called and hugged him, “i was searching for you instead of you searching for me”

sunghoon was not responding, he was too deep in thoughts and didn’t know how to stop them.

“sunghoon?” you waved your heads in front of him and he finally came back on track.

“i was just thinking about something” he smiled.

“would you like to talk about it?” you smiled warmly at him.

how could you smile so widely when youre going through all of this?

“it’s not something that should bother you” he smiled and kissed your cheeks.

you spent the rest of the day looking out for sunghoon, he was different today, as much as he didn’t want to show it, you noticed.

the next day sunghoon found himself standing in front of his biggest rival kingdom. he never thought he’d have to step his leg into this kingdom, but he’d do anything for you as long as he could.

“park sunghoon! i’ve never thought i’d witness a hybe royal inside my kingdom!” the king teased.

sunghoon closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, “i need your help and you’re the only one that can help me” he said firmly.

“we’re rivals, why would i want to help you?”

“because i have something you want” he sighed, “i’ll be getting my kingdom sooner or later, i’ll give it to you together with my crown”

“you’ll lose your crown for something possibly stupid?”

“i need you to help princess y/n’s kingdom. the queen’s condition is getting worse. i heard you gave the best doctors that can help her”

the king laughed, “you’re doing this for y/n and not for yourself? what a stupid prince you are!”

sunghoon looked away, fighting the urge not to stab the king and fight him.

“very well, i will help in exchange of your crown”

their agreement was that the king will send his best doctors to help your mother, and as soon as sunghoon will get his crown, he’ll give it to the king. if one of them breaks the agreement, it’s off.

a few days passed, and it was supposed to be your visit day in the other kingdom, except that it got canceled.

“did you tell anyone about this visit?!” your father shout at you and you shook your head.

“how come he sent me this stupid letter saying that if we step into his kingdom he’ll declare a war!”

“i don’t know! i did nothing!” you argued.

“something stopped him, more like someone! i’m going to find out who did this!” your father roamed outside his room, slamming the door harshly and you flinched.

a week passed and your mother’s condition wasn’t doing any better, the doctors told you it was already time to say goodbye but you refused to do so, you refuse to believe you won’t be able to see your mother everyday soon.

everything was too overwhelming and stressful, you decided to go to your second home, you needed some comfort and it’s been a while since you saw sunghoon anyway.

“what are you up to?” you found him in the castle’s garden, deep in thoughts.

“just thinking about something”

“by something you mean me?” you teased and he smiled, not answering your question because the answer is quite obvious.

you then hugged him tightly, and sighed deeply as you rest your forehead on his shoulder.

“is everything okay?” he caressed your back slowly.

“my mom isn’t doing well lately” you finally confessed. you had to let it all out and tell sunghoon the truth.

“she’s sick, too sick. and the last week was such a roller coaster, her condition isn’t getting better and it’s our time to say our final goodbyes, i’m not ready for that sunghoon” you sobbed, “i’m sorry for dumping it all on you and telling you all of this now when it’s late i just—“

“it’s okay” even though he already knew about your mother’s condition, he was so glad that you finally opened it up and told him, “i’m here for you”

he held you tighter than before and whispered sweet comfort words that always knew how to calm you down.

right after you left he thought about what happened.

he made a deal with the other kingdom, the king was supposed to help your mother, how come her condition worsened? something didn’t make sense to him at all.

“sunghoon!” his father called him and sunghoon rushed to the king’s room.

“yes father?”

“you’re getting married to our biggest rivals daughter and didn’t even tell us? are you out of your mind?” he shout.

sunghoon could’ve swore that in that moment his heart stopped beating, “what?” he asked in disbelief.

“the other king sent us a letter! inviting us to your wedding with his daughter! we’ve never been so humiliated, how could you betray your family?” his mother interrupted.

sunghoon shook his head, “there must be a misunderstanding—“

“how come?” the king asked, “your name is written on that letter! and it was probably sent to all the other kingdoms!!”

“what about y/n?!” his mother asked and his eyes widened.

“y/n…?”

“how do you think she’ll feel receiving that letter? huh?”

“no, no! none of this is true! you must believe me!”

“explain yourself then! we’re here waiting!” sunoo, one of sunghoon’s brother argued.

sunghoon sighed, shutting his eyes tightly and clenching his fists, “y/n’s mother, the queen, her condition is getting worse. she’s been awfully sick for a few years already, i overheard their servants talking about how only the other kingdom could help her because they don’t want to bother us. so i went to them myself, i made a deal with the king that he’ll help the queen in exchange of my throne—“

“are you out of your—“

“jay! let him talk” the queen shushed him.

“yes! i was ready to give up my crown if it means i can help her in any way!” sunghoon sighed, “the king obviously did nothing and lied to me! and now apparently im ‘marrying his daughter’ you know damn well that’s never going to happen because i want to marry y/n!”

sunghoon’s mother wiped out her tears and hugged sunghoon, “i’m sorry you had to go through this, you could’ve told us—“

“i didn’t want to bother you too, this story is complicated than you think”

“what about y/n’s mother’s condition?” the king asked quietly.

“y/n said it’s been getting worse, they started to say their final goodbyes” sunghoon whispered and the room became quiet, as a respect for the queen.

“you should go to her, to check on her” heeseung suddenly spoke.

“yeah, i bet she needs someone by her side right now” jungwon added.

sunghoon nodded and with his parents’ approval he went to your kingdom.

he searched for you around and saw you staring at your garden, he smiled for himself and tapped your shoulder.

“hey” he said.

“what are you doing here?” you asked coldly.

“what?” he tilt his head, “i’m here to visit you”

“don’t you have a wedding to go get prepared to?” you scoffed, “go away park, you’re not welcomed here anymore”

sunghoon had been stabbed a few times in his life, but your words hurt him more than ten stabs at once.

“you have to listen to me i—“

“there’s nothing to explain! i got the letter, saw your name on it and it was enough for me to understand this was all a game for you” you shout, “i can’t believe i actually believed your bullshit”

“i hate you, park sunghoon” you spit out, nothing but hate is in your fierce glance at him. he just chuckled, “you don’t mean that”

“oh i do,” you nodded, “and to think that i actually promised my mom i’ll be marrying you” you chuckled in disbelief.

“looking back at that promise, i realize why you used to believe that promises are stupid” you added.

“i’m sorry” he apologized, “sorry isn’t going to change anything, is it?”

“y/n—“

“just get out, please” you were being nice, asking him to leave and pointing your hands to the door although he already knew where to go.

sunghoon didn’t want to bother you, he thought you’d probably relax in a day or two, and he’d be able to talk it out with you.

you can’t just erase all your feelings and delete all your memories after so many years, right?

as soon as he got out he went to the other kingdom, to finally get some sense into that stupid, useless king.

“park sunghoon! so nice to see you my son-in-law!” the king said and sunghoon only wanted to punch his face.

“wedding? with your daughter? son-in-law? you’re out of your fucking mind!” he spit out.

the king only laughed in his face, “why? wouldn’t you like to be my son? i’ll take good care of you”

sunghoon rolled his eyes, “the deal is canceled, you won’t get any crown or another kingdom, fix whatever you did, you ruined my life anyway and you never even helped y/n’s mother”

“oh but i feel like i haven’t ruined your life enough”

“cut it off, we both know my kingdom will finish you once we’ll declare a war”

“what makes you think that?”

“i did” another voice was heard in the room.

sunghoon’s father stepped in and put his hand on sunghoon’s shoulder.

“and i’m afraid i also know too many secrets about you, old friend” he teased, “leave my son alone, and don’t you dare ruin his life again. he did a mistake asking for your help but he did what he had to do”

sunghoon’s father then dragged him out of the kingdom back to theirs.

right after sunghoon left your room, you went out to breathe and relax your brain a bit.

how could sunghoon do this to you? everything he ever said to you, every hug, every joke, was it all a lie to him?

there must be a reason behind it, but you’re too hurt to even care about it. no reason could be enough for you right now.

you decided to focus on being next to your mother, spending her last days together and showing her the brightest side of you, you didn’t tell her anything and she didn’t suspect anything so you just left it be.

three days passed ever since you last heard from sunghoon.

you miss him, you miss everything and anything about him. you needed his comfort the most right now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to see him.

“y/n, sunghoon is here to pay a visit” one of your servants informed you.

“tell him i don’t want to see him,” you sighed, “and tell him to take care” you whispered that line.

you refused to see him in any cost. you’re too angry to even care about his feelings right now. all you could feel is betrayal, and hurt.

in one of the next days, you went out to the garden to read some books and write on your diary.

when you got back inside the castle you saw your mother’s doctors standing with their heads down.

“we’re sorry your highness, we did everything we could” they said and couldn’t even make eye contact with you as their eyes were full with tears.

you froze there for a few minutes, you knew this day would come but could never prepare yourself enough for that. you didn’t want to believe this day would come so fast.

“please tell me i’m dreaming” you told them but they shook their heads, “we’re very sorry your—“

they got cut off when they saw you falling to the ground, sobbing and covering your eyes.

you were crying like a little child who lost their ice cream, refusing to get up and screaming at everything.

the last few days were just about you and her, she taught you everything you needed to know about life and royalty.

“you need to be a good wife to sunghoon!” she smiled.

“mom! he has to be a good husband before that!”

“you’re right! if he’s being mean tell him you’d leave him and take all of his money” she joked and you giggled.

“i don’t need money”

“you don’t, but you do need to annoy him and help him realize he’s nothing without you!”

all of those memories past by your mind all day, thinking about your dear mother, who was there for you when no one else was.

“who’s going to be by my side now, mom?” you asked quietly, “i already miss you so much”

it was dinner time in hybe’s kingdom, all seven brothers sat together with their parents.

“sunoo, we’ve found the perfect wife for you! you’re going to meet her at the ballroom on ni-ki’s birthday!! isn’t that exciting?” the queen clapped in excitement.

“yeah, very exciting!” sunoo tried to sound cheerful, but failed miserably in sunghoon’s eyes.

he pitied his younger brother for being the only one who’s being forced to someone he doesn’t even know.

sunoo explain multiple times to his parents that he wants to marry someone out of love, and that he believes that when it’s time, he’ll meet the one for him. but his parents turned deaf to his thoughts.

“i already met her once, she’s really pretty! the perfect pair for you!”

“your highness” a few servants came into the room and interrupted the dinner.

“is it important? we’re having dinner right now—“

“queen (name) of (name) kingdom is no longer with us” the servants lowered their heads as a respect and the king got up from his seat instantly.

sunghoon’s eyes widened, he was left speechless and froze in his place.

“we’ll be going to pay our respects tomorrow morning together, prepare yourselves” the king said and left the dining room.

sunghoon didn’t know what to do. it has already been a week and he’s been trying to reach out to you, but you rejected him every time.

he sent you letters but didn’t get any back. he was hopeless.

what is he supposed to do now? he didn’t even say his last goodbye to his mother-in-law.

the next day, you received loads of letters from loads of kingdoms, thanking the queen for her service and mourning her death.

hybe’s kingdom however, came personally to comfort you and the rest of your family.

the king and the queen, and six of their children. yes, only six of them. one of them was missing.

park sunghoon didn’t come to comfort you.

“we’re very sorry to hear the devastating news, the queen was the kindest soul we’ve ever got to meet” the king shook your father’s hands and pat his back.

the six sons came to you and hugged you. you hugged them back and broke down. the six sons already became your brothers long time ago, you felt safe around them.

“we’re sorry y/n, we’re here for you now” heeseung, the oldest one said with a comforting smile.

as much as you were thankful for them, you were hoping to see a certain person, a person who didn’t even bother showing up.

it only added up to your anger on him, how could he do that? what happened to always being there for you?

“sunghoon felt a bit sick and unwell today, he couldn’t get up from his bed, he really wanted to come” the queen smiled weakly at you and you returned the smile.

you spent the rest of the day with your six brothers, completely forgetting about your father and sister, they were here to comfort you and be with you.

“sunoo,” you called out, “hm?” he answered quietly.

“is sunghoon really sick?” you asked and he nodded, “i think the news about your mother caught him off guard, he couldn’t even speak after he heard the news”

you pressed your lips together and nodded, “please wish him well, i hope he’ll get better as soon as possible”

“i will do that” he smiled warmly at you.

just because you’re hurt by him, doesn’t mean you don’t care about him. he still holds a big place in your heart.

the next days passed by slowly, you spent most of your time in your room, sometimes even refusing to get out for a whole day.

sunghoon crossed your mind every day. your last words to him crossed your mind every day too.

you said you hate him, but you lied. you love him, you love him too much that it hurts.

you feel too betrayed and hurt by him but it’s somehow the last thing that interests you.

you just need to see him and hug him. but your ego wouldn’t let you.

so you waited for him to fight for you, you knew he’d try again, and again, and again, that’s just the person that he is.

after a while of isolating yourself in your room, you decided to get out and read some books.

that’s what your mom would want you to do, to move on and start a new life.

as you were reading your book, you heard a familiar voice calling you.

“y/n,” your heart skipped a beat. you were too scared to turn around and see the person you were so hoping to see for so long.

“please tell me you’re not who i think you are” you breathed slowly.

“i’m sorry” he let out.

you finally decided to turn around and you met his eyes. it’s been a while since you last saw him, you missed staring at his beautiful face, and his beautiful moles that made his face look ten times better, his kissable lips that always felt soft against yours, you missed everything about him.

“please,” he whispered, “please hear me out this time”

you blinked a few times, still not believing that he’s actually in front of you.

“you didn’t show up when i needed you the most, you betrayed me and lied to me, why would i listen to any of your excuses now?” you argued, but deep down you wanted to hear him so badly.

“y/n please” he pleaded, “just listen to what i have to say, and it’s up to you wether to believe it or not, just please, i don’t want us to break apart without you hearing the reason behind it”

you let out a few tears to fall and slowly nodded, he was right, you never let him to explain himself, you were too selfish and cared about your feeling that you didn’t even care about his.

he told you the whole story from the start, and you were sobbing your heart out.

“i’m sorry,” you let out, “i’m sorry for refusing to listen to you, i’m sorry for rejecting you so many times, i’m sorry for telling you that i hate you—“

“stop apologizing stupid,” he chuckled, “it’s over now isn’t it? we’re even now right?”

“it’s over now, promise me you won’t ever hide from me something like that again” you extended out your pinky.

“but you said that promises are stu—“

“not when it comes to you” you smiled.

instead of locking his pinky with you he cupped your face and pulled you into a kiss.

“i love you y/n, i’m sorry it took me a while to get back to you” he whispered.

“i love you too sunghoon, im sorry for rejecting you multiple times” you giggled.

“finally! get married already and leave this kingdom please!” you heard your sister in the back.

“i’m sorry that my sister can’t be a bit more like your brothers” you awkwardly smiled and sunghoon laughed.

“she’s right though, let’s get married as soon as possible and get our own kingdom” he pecked your lips.

“IN TWO DAYS??”

“well you said you wanted to get married as soon as possible! i already planned everything!” sunghoon’s mother smiled and hugged the both of you.

“can’t say i’m not biased, i’ve been shipping the two of you ever since you both met” the king added.

“are they gonna have babies as soon as possible now too?”

“NI-KI!!!!”

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••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

[gothicflowers]

John Price x f!Reader

“Of course my love, always”

SFW + Fluff

“Hello, names John price. Laswell has told me all about you” the broad shouldered British man eagerly shook your hand.

You could feel your face heating up at the sight of him “All good things I hope”

“Well you are as beautiful as she said” he said before he could think.

“You always this cheeky” you ask

“Of course my love, always” he grinned

Stretching out your arms you look to John “Thank goodness we got all that paperwork done”

“Agreed, i don’t even want to look at my computer for the next week” John lets out a sigh and sinks into his chair.

“Understandable” you giggle at his tired expression “and with how late it is I refuse to cook dinner when I get home” your stomach rumbling since it was almost ten at night.

John perks up with a idea “Pub down the end of the street has good food, come with me”

Cocking your eyebrow you take a chance to flirt with him “You asking me out to dinner John”

“Only if you accept” a cheeky smile shines across his tired face.

“A dance studio” John asks intrigued.

“That’s the dream, I still work as a choreographer when I actually have time” you giggle at his surprise. Walking back over you hand him a cup of coffee.

“You sure are full of surprises” John never fails to be amazed at your talents.

“They charge you too much for rent for this bullshit” John grunts as he’s trying to fix the kitchen sink

“I know, landlord won’t even call a repair company for anything” your hands on your hips as you watch him work. He insisted you go back to watching your show, but who would pass up watching him in a fitted shirt and jeans.

“How about we stop trying to keep this place from flooding and you just move it with me” John’s expression was dead serious.

“You’re ready to wake up to me every morning”

John sets the wrench on the floor and looks at you with adoration “Of course my love, always”

“We should get a dog” you casually said as you made the way up the steps to his mom’s home.

“A dog” John had never considered getting a dog before, always on missions without someone to watch a furry companion.

“Yes, like a corgi” your fascination with the dog breed was something you loved to talk about.

“How about a fish”

“How long” you asked trying to gather your feelings. You’re still getting used to the idea him leaving not just as your boss, but as your partner.

“Two months, give or take a few weeks” John nonchalantly says as he throws the ball for the corgi puppy he got you.

“You promise to come back to me” you wrap your arms around him looking into his golden brown eyes.

“Of course my love, always” John leans in to kiss you.

You heard the front door open and close and a gruff voice trying to calm the excited dog greeting him.

“You’re back” you round the corner excitedly.

“As promised” John looks up at you and his body language visibly relaxes at the sight of you. Home.

“Sooner than expected” you smile

His hands pull you in close “Told the boss lady to speed things up, have someone waiting on me at home” a smirk comes across his lips as he leans down to kiss you.

You both relax on the beach watching the sunset during your much needed vacation. Sitting on the blanket with your drink in hand you watch as John shifts to his knees.

“I had a whole speech planned out for this. But I don’t think I’ll ever have the right words to describe my love for you. Will you marry me” John asks breathlessly awaiting your response.

You couldn’t get the words out at first, just nodding yes over and over. “Of course” you blurt out as a tear of joy falls.

“How long” you ask. You could tell by John’s body language he was not confident about this mission.

He sighs as his hand come to the back of his neck “I don’t know”

“You come back to me, promise” your loving voice says to him. You’d wait an eternity if that’s what it takes.

“Of course my love, always” John nods with a half assured smile, worried that he might break his promise this time.

“John, what happened” you caress his cheek looking at the stitched up cut. Hugging him gently not to hurt his slow healing bullet wounds.

“I’m alive don’t worry about the rest” he knew seeing the tears coming from your eyes he couldn’t let this happen again.

“You came back, and that’s all that matters”

“Of course my love, always”

“You don’t have go to the store with me, you’ve been gone nine months. Rest my love” you tell him. He hasn’t left your warm embrace all week since his return.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m going with. Being around you is my peace and rest”

“I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat” the doctor says to you both. Your heart shatters into a million pieces. John’s heart breaks at the loss and watching the most important person in his life fall apart in his arms.

“Is it something I did, is there something I could have done” you sob.

“Unfortunately miscarriages are more likely in the first trimester. You did nothing wrong Mrs.Price.” The doctor softly replied as you cried into John’s chest.

“It’s going to be okay, we’re gonna get through this together” John whispers while kissing your temple.

“I love you” you say through the tears.

John’s hand squeezes yours “I love you always”

“Enjoy the retirement captain” ghost says to John. A bittersweet moment to their paths departing one another. They’ll meet again someday you’re sure, but not like this. Just as friends

“Take care Simon” John says softly

“Always John” Simon says with a soft smile.

“You ok love” you whisper to John as he sits up in the bed from his nightmare.

“You’re still by me, so of course my love, always”

John quickly grabs the ringing phone “Thank you for calling Artistry Dance Studio, how can I help you. Yes the owner is in, would you like to speak with her” if you would have told John fifteen years ago he’d be retired and helping run his wife’s dance studio he’d have laughed. But he’s happy.

“boy or girl” he softly asked.

“It’s a girl” the nurse said.

John didn’t have words, he only had tears of joy as the newborn was placed on your chest.

“Are you gonna be here to pick me after” the shy little girl asks John.

“Of course my love, always” he was wrapped around his daughter’s finger. He watched her walk into the preschool classroom and take her seat trying not to cry.

You all sat down outside on the porch enjoying the weather and John’s culinary skills that prepared dinner.

“Taste alright” John questioned.

“Of course my love, always” you happily replied.

Looking at your daughter you nod at John giving him the green light. “You know how you asked for another sister” John told his little girl. She nods excitedly.

“You’re getting two more little sisters” you happily say. Yours and John’s little five year old couldn’t contain her excitement.

“Can you grab your sisters blankets from inside” John asks his eldest daughter.

“If I do can I grab a chocolate from the jar” your daughter that is so much like her father asks.

John whispers to her. “Yes, don’t let your sisters see though. They’ll wipe the jar clean of what’s left”

“Thanks dad” her little voice whispers back.

“Of course my love” he smiles watching her run back inside.

John bear hugs all his daughters after handing them each a bouquet of flowers. The twins first ballet show and your eldest first solo performance. “You did such a beautiful job my loves. I’m so proud of you all” he turns to you after putting them down. He hands you a bouquet of your favorite flowers “and you my love, as amazing show as always” he gives you a quick kiss on the lips.

You giggle “Thank you. You know, I should have gotten my assistant flowers as well.” Your finger hooks onto his belt loop discreetly, pulling him just a little closer “He actually hand sewed three costumes, I think I’m gonna give him something better than flowers.” you sweetly said. John’s face turns just a little pink at your words.

“Hey dad” your oldest runs into the house almost yelling “I passed my permit! Can we go practice driving now” she was overjoyed to learn.

“Good job kiddo, of course we can. Let me grab my coat” John was excited to teach her, but it also means his baby was getting older. She looks just like her mom only with John’s dark hair. And no matter how old she gets he still sees her as a chubby baby, gripping his finger as he rocked her to sleep.

“Mom! She took them again!” The oldest twin yells out from her room.

You sigh as your two teenagers always bicker over yet another pair of shoes, last week it was over a pink skirt. It wasn’t even theirs, it was yours.

“I’ll talk to her when she gets home, just wear her black ones” never in a million years did you think that this was the hardest part of having twins. Clothing and shoes.

“Oh love, come here” you pull a tearfulJohn into your arms. Today was the twins high school graduation. John was excited to see his girls graduate, but was devastated his little girls were growing up. “I’m just not ready for them to leave, they’re so big. My little girls” john says trying to choke back the tears. John cried when his oldest graduated and now as his twins do.

“You know, they didn’t get it from me” he looks down at you in his arms as you both cuddled on the couch. Looking at your adult daughters who all came home for Christmas.

“Get what” you laughed.

“One is a lawyer, one’s a doctor, one’s an astrophysicist. I could barely write a report. All those incredible brains are definitely your dna.” John points out.

“I’d say it’s a mix, I might be smart but they have your determination to succeed.”

Simon and John sit on the porch drinking tea. They’d been at their conversation for over five hours.

“Three” Simon repeated John’s words shocked.

John laughed “Yup, all three are getting married this summer”

“John my love” you whisper to John as he tosses and turns in the bed from his nightmare. It had been almost thirty years since his last mission. The nightmares are few and far between now days.

John opens his tired eyes and looks at you.

“I’m alright my love” his hand hold yours as you both fall back asleep.

“Grandpa! Grandpa! Come play with us!” Your youngest grandson yells for John. All three daughters and their spouses plus the seven grandchildren gathered in yours and John’s home for Christmas. Laughter filled the air as the children played. John’s arm still hung around your waist.

“And to think this is all because Laswell insisted I have an assistant” he presses a kiss to your temple.

“I almost told her no” you giggle.

“You never told me that” John said surprised.

Laughing at the memory “Laswell showed me your file. I didn’t even read it fully. I seen your photo and knew I had to have you”

John’s hand came down to your butt to give it a little pat “You cheeky woman” even in his older age John always flirted with you.

“Alright kids, smile” your eldest daughter tells all the kids as the photographer takes the photo. You made it a mission to get family photos done every two years. And this year was the easiest with all the grandkids being in their teens.

“Smile or I’m tickling you all till you buggers are blue” John says resulting in laughter from everyone.

“You look just as beautiful as the day we got married here” John says as he helps you to your seats at your grandsons wedding.

“Oh john, you always remind me. You’ll never let me forget” you kiss his cheek admiring his now aged face and grey beard.

“Of course my love, Always”

“Three daughters, seven grandchildren and fifteen great grandchildren” John’s deep voice pulls you from your book.

“Grandpa, how did you meet grandma” your great granddaughter asks.

“Come, all you rascals. Let me tell you about how I managed to get such a wonderful woman.” John proudly boasts.

The living room that once was just you, John and your firstborn has turned into a crowded room full of generations. Everyone gathered around in the living room as John starts his story.

“Promise you’ll wait for me” your old aged hand grabs his weak one. You smiled at the love of your life as you’re both surrounded by your daughters.

“Of course my love, always” he smiles as he looks around at the greatest love he’s ever known and the three beautiful women they raised. He closes his eyes smiling and took his last breath.

You open your eyes as you stood in your small home in the country. Your favorite record playing on the turntable, sweet sent of vanilla filling the air. You turn to the mirror. You’re young again. In the reflection you see him, standing in his faded jeans and a half buttoned up shirt. Turning to him you smiled

“You waited for me” you both walked towards each other meeting in the middle of the room. His arms wrapped around your waist pulling you close. Admiring the details on his face, just as he was the day you first met. Eyes filled with the same love he departed the wold with.

“Of course my love, always”

[hihello-pinky]

Sight (4)

Suna Rintarou x F! Reader

Sometimes, it takes losing someone to finally see them. He wished he knew this before, but Rintarou had to learn this the hard way.

WARNINGS: descriptive smut, foul language, implied multiple rounds of sex

WC: 2.7k

Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and in no way represents my views of the original anime/manga characters.

Here's part 4! As usual, thank you for waiting for the update. This is quite a short chapter and you can treat it as an extended calm before the storm.

Spoiler alert for the next part: that's where all hell breaks loose HAHA (okay, maybe an exaggeration).

Kindly reblog and/or leave a comment if you liked this short update!

part one part two part three

kofi ~

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️

˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚

If someone told you a few months ago that one morning you’d wake up to the sight of your husband watching you intently while you slept, you would have laughed at their face and dismissed them.

But alas, here you are, slowly blinking the sleep away from your eyes as you make out Rintarou’s face. You half expect him to turn away and pretend he wasn’t watching you but to your surprise, he only raises an eyebrow at you. “Morning”.

You try to sit up but immediately groan as your body protests in pain. Rintarou chuckles a little as he offers help. “Too sore?”

“And whose fault is that?” You retort as you let him help you while at the same time trying to hide your blushing face, knowing that you’re miserably failing.

Rin hums before replying with a smirk. “I definitely wasn’t the one who sugggested for more…”

Your eyes widen before you playfully swat his hands away. He laughs again, the sound foreign to your ears not but unwelcome. You silently hope you’ll be able to hear it a lot more often soon. “Rintarou!”

The two of you are interrupted by the sound of incessant knocking on your bedroom door. It prompts you to look at the clock. “Oh my god, it’s late!”

Rintarou tilts his head to the side. “It’s Saturday though?”

Before you can answer, the sound of your kids’ concerned voices rings through the door. “Mom? Dad? Where are you… We’re scared.”

You hear a muffled groan from your husband as he pulls away from you and you hastily get yourself prepared.

~~~

Suna watches as you cook pancakes for breakfast. He can hear the kids playing in the living room, the sound of the cartoons they had insisted to “watch” playing in the background.

“Is it not tiring?”

You send him a curious glance before returning your attention to the pan. “Cooking?”

“All the house work,” he clarifies as he moves from the kitchen island to join you near the stove. “You never tried to ask if we could hire a new helper when Jiri left.”

He feels you tense a bit once he’s standing close to you. “I like doing all the work.”

“Still, a little help would have been nice, right?”

He’s surprised when you turn to him, an outstretched hand holding a spatula. With a smile, you tell him, “Not from a stranger.

Suna reluctantly takes the tool from you and you laugh a liittle. “You don’t know how to cook?” He feels sheepish as he nods. You purse your lips. “Okay. Maybe you can help with other chores.”

As you try to take the spatula back from him, Suna softly grasps your hand. The action surprises even him.

“What?” He tries to conceal a smirk as he notices the faint blush beginning to color your face.

“I’d like it if we spend a few hours every week where you teach me the ways around the kitchen.”

“I’m not really good at cooking. Why don’t you ask Osamu instead?”

Suna gives you a rather mischievous smile as he maneuvers your hands so that the spatula is placed on the counter. Your fingers are intertwined, his wedding ring digging into yours “I’m not married to Osamu, why would I want to spend time in the kitchen with him?”

~~~

“Grandpa, Grandma, Mommy and Dad almost burned the kitchen!” You watch as Risa. runs towards her grandmother’s open arms while Ryuu runs to his grandfather.

Rintarou’s mother sends you a curious look and before you can respond, he goes to her and kisses her on the cheek. “We just got pre-occupied.”

The statement makes Rintarou’s mother let out an excited squeal as she beams at you. “Are we going to expect some good news soon?”

You instantly blush, realizing what she was implying. “T-That’s not…"

“Honey,” Your father-in-law says as your husband hands him the kids’ bags. “Don’t embarrass them like that.”

The statement reminds you that over the past years, the two of you have somehow managed to convince Suna’s parents that after the forced marriage, you were able to actually work out together as a couple. Though you wonder how stories of Rin’s numerous affairs manage to evade them.

You go and give goodbye hugs to your children. “You two behave, okay?”

Ryuu nods and smiles at you, his smile very similar to his father’s. “Yes, Mommy. Risa is the one who doesn’t behave.”

Your daughter’s protests die down as you plant a kiss on the top of her head. “Shh, Risa. Don’t listen to your brother’s teasing.”

Rintarou laughs a little as he ruffles the kids’ hairs one after the other. “Don’t give your grandma and grandpa headaches, okay?”

“Okay, Dad!"

As soon as Rin’s parents and the kids drive off, you’re left alone with him. “I should probably go do laundry…”

“Do you need help?” He asks as he shuts the front door.

“Not really…”

“But…?"

A small smile finds its way to your lips. “But if you want to help, I’m not gonna stop you.”

~~~

When you let Rintarou help you in doing the laundry, you weren’t expecting that it wouldn’t be the only thing he’d be… doing. You can barely recall the things leading to your current predicament: you seated on top of the washing machine as Rin slowly thrusts into you.

“Shit,” he curses against your ear hotly. “This feels so good.”

Your grip on his bicep tightens at the pleasure coursing through your body. “Rin, I’m almost there.”

At your words, his movements speed up. His heavy pants not helping you hold back your release. You tighten around him and just as you reach your orgasm, Rin thrusts harder. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum.”

Groans and heavy breathing reverberate in the laundry room as you’re both trying to recover from your orgasms.

He’s the one who catches his breath first. “I’m gonna pull out, okay?”

Too exhausted to come up with a reply, you only nod your head. However, the drag of his cock as he pulls out makes you whine in sensitivity and you reach out to his arm to try to slow him down.

“Fuck, sorry.” You close your eyes as you feel your mixed liquids beginning to slip out. Neither of you try to wipe them.

Rin breaks the silence before it can fully take place. “I have a question.”

“Hmm?”

“How come you never got pregnant despite the times I fucked you in the last four years?”

Despite your current position, his question still makes you blush. You only mutter one word. “Contraceptives.”

He’s quiet for a while. “I see.”

~~~

For the rest of the day, Rintarou helped you in doing the house chores. But for every time you finish one task, you somehow find yourself doing some sort of… intimate act with him.

“Listen, I’m happy to hear that you’re both spending more time together,” Sacha says over the phone. “But it’s concerning me that all you do is have sex. Do you two even talk?”

You’re currently propped against your bed while Rin is in the shower. You look at the door to the bathroom before turning back to your phone screen, where Sacha is currently doing her night skincare routine. “We do talk… just about regular stuff.”

Even through Facetime, you can hear the deep sigh from your friend. “That’s not good. At all.”

You know it as well but truth be told, you’re scared to initiate deep or serious talks with your husband, the last time being when you asked him for divorce. “I’m aware but I don’t know how to bring it up. What if he decides to block me out again?”

Sacha gently taps the moisturizing cream on her cheek for better absorption. “Then this resolve of him trying to make your marriage work is a big fucking joke. Make sure to call him out.”

It’s your turn to let out a deep sigh. “Okay. I’ll try to find the perfect time to bring it up.”

In the background, you hear the shower turning off. “I’ll be hanging up now, ‘Cha. Talk to you again soon.”

“Sure, dear. And see you soon?”

“Yeah, see you soon.”

Sacha waves through the screen and makes a kissy face. “Bye! Love you!” You smile at your friend as you faintly hear the sound of the bathroom door opening.

“Love you too, bye!”

As the call ends, you feel Rintarou looking at you. You meet his gaze. “What is it?”

He blinks, as if only now realizing that he was staring. “Nothing,” he replies as he makes his way across the room to retrieve clothes.

Just like the night before, you try your hardest not to watch him, ignoring the way droplets of water slide from the tips of his hair down to his nape.

You try to break the silence that was starting to take over the room. “How was today? Doing chores with me?”

You can tell your question surprises him and you can’t even blame him. In your attempt to make small talk, that was the first thing that popped into your mind.

Suna pulls a gray tank top over his head as he wears sweats. He walks over to you after he drapes his towel against the chair by the vanity. “Fun, I guess.”

He stops at the edge of the bed, still standing, and cocks his head to the side as if daring you to ask him more questions. You decide to take the challenge. “Which parts were fun?”

Rintarou’s answer is immediate. “Spending time with you.”

In response, you can already feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, especially since the next question is already leaving your mouth. “You mean the part where we have sex?”

You half expect him to laugh, his lips curving into his signature smirk. Instead, he looks into your eyes seriously. “No. I meant the part where you were telling me what you usually do and showing me how I can help. I liked watching the way your brows furrow in concentration and the way your lips pout when you’re trying to think of how to explain stuff to me.”

He retains the eye contact as he finishes talking. When you don’t respond, he finally moves again and joins you on the bed. “Y/N.”

Your breath hitches as Suna comes closer. “Y-Yes?”

“We need to talk.”

You nod slowly, still processing what’s currently happening.

Rin shakes his head. “That’s not talking.”

You clear your throat. “Okay.” A long inhale. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Us.” His hand moves to hold yours but at the last second, he pulls back, putting it at his side instead. “I meant it when I told you weeks ago that I want to make our marriage work. But it’s not just about us not fighting anymore and being on good terms. It’s not just about me stopping with my cruel treatment of you from before.

“Do you know what the hardest part was for me for the past years? Fighting my attraction to you. What I’m trying to say is, I actually want a relationship with you, not just have marriage as merely a label.”

You open your mouth to speak but he puts a finger against it. “Let me finish, please?” The pleading look in his eyes, partnered with the gentleness with which he put his finger against your lips, urges you to nod in agreement.

“I know I was a horrible person to you. I took advantage of you when you were drunk because I was young and stupid and rebellious. Actually, I think I’m still stupid because when we were forced to get married, I threw away the chance of making it up to you and still treated you harshly. Instead of apologizing, I resented you because I thought you were taking away from me my freedom.

“And that’s fucked up because I was the one who took everything away from you. So, really. I don’t think I can ever apologize enough for everything I put you through. In fact, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But if you ever decide to forgive me and give me a chance to make it up to you, I would cherish it.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N, and I’m not just pertaining to your physical appearance. You have a beautiful heart and soul, you’re a beautiful person who does not deserve everything that happened to you because of me. I’m sorry, I don’t think I will ever stop apologizing to you. But still, I want to have another real chance with you.

“I’ve been denying my attraction to you for years and I’m now tired of running away. I want to know you more, Y/N. And in return, I want you to know me as well. Will you give us a chance?”

Surely, he must be able to hear the loud thumping of your heart. You’re at a loss of words. This is the most he has ever spoken to you.

Suna looks at you gently. “You don’t have to answer right away.”

You know that, but still, you reach for his hand on the bed. “When I was younger and read stories of people giving second chances, I always got frustrated. Why would they risk getting hurt by the same person again? I told myself I would never make the same decisions as them.”

He adjusts your hands so that he can rub his thumb against your palm. His eyes do the talking for him. “Go on.”

“Yet, look at me. Weeks ago, I agreed to give our marriage a chance. And just now… I want to tell you that I feel the same about wanting to start over again. I want us to get to know each other more.

“I don’t know what’s next to come, if we’ll even have a happy ending. But I want to take the risk with you, Rin.”

Your eyes meet his and the sincerity in them almost makes you tear up. You remain with locked eyes until finally, he says, “I’m glad. Thank you, Y/N.”

What he does next makes your heart pound against your chest. He leans forward, his breath warm against your face as he squeezes your still intertwined hands. You feel your cheeks heat up as his lips touch your forehead.

Rintarou leans back and gives you a soft smile. “Let’s go to sleep?”

Still flustered from his sudden forehead kiss, you can only respond with a nod.

~~~

Suna has always been an early riser. As a student, the habit paid off a lot as it allowed him to have ample time for academics and volleyball. As a young adult, it was useful when it came to escaping from awkward morning-after conversations with his one night stands.

Now, he’s beginning to discover another appreciation for his body clock. Similar to the day before, waking up before you gives him time to observe your features.

You look peaceful when asleep.

Now that the denial of his attraction to you is thrown out the window, it seems to Suna that he can’t get enough of you. Your soft, steady breathing and the serene look on your face tugs at his heart.

The feeling of wanting to protect you from anything that can potentially hurt you almost makes him scoff at himself. After all, he was the one that hurt you in the past few years.

If he wants to protect you from pain, he really should just distance himself from you. But Suna knows that he’s a selfish person. So, he’ll take another route instead: change and improve himself. Be someone who won’t hurt you; someone worthy to stay at your side.

It’s the determination that came to him last night, when he had closed his eyes trying to go to sleep, basking in the warmth of your body beside him.

For all the years of taking you for granted, Suna vowed to himself that from now on, he’s going to cherish every moment he spends with you.

TO BE CONTINUED.

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