#im going to get a coffee and sit under a tree for a while

[calamitys-child]

My purpose and singular mission in life is to make sure queer and/or neurodivergent kids know that sometimes it really is their parents who are stupid and other adults are on their side. This, unfortunately, does not make me popular with their parents. Gonnae keep doing it though.

[asahicore]

cherry pits - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. dad!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?

(Spoiler: wrong.)

genre. DILF AUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!, neighbors au, s2l, summer au, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon 26), reader is so down bad over sunghoon its actually crazy but also extremely relatable cause this is sunghoon we're talking about, fluff and smut, sex gets freakyyy ngl

word count. 12.9k

a/n. hey sisters had no time to write anything this week so i am coming back (everybody boos) with a repost yayyy!!! i actually love this story idkw i just find it fun so i hope you guys will enjoy rereading / reading it !!!! as always let me know ur thoughts.. even if they're just incomprehensible screaming (bad or good).. im happy w anything ok bye!!!

You’ve always wondered about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, isn’t it? Yet that’s never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoy this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.

Bite, eat, spit is exactly what you’re doing when, with a trembling finger, you finally brave to open your banking app and check your balance. It’s the beginning of summer, and after two semesters of intense studying and too-much-coffee drinking, you think you deserve three long months of doing nothing but hanging out in your childhood bedroom and eating the food your parents buy and make. You’re especially looking forward to the vacation in Mexico you have planned with your friends at the end of August.

One look at your bank account and your dreams of white beaches and seas so blue you couldn’t tell them apart from the sky shatter around you, the sad, low numbers on the screen sneering at you mockingly. You were sure you had saved enough money from part-time jobs and generous relatives, but now you regret all of those night-outs and lazy takeaways. If you had cut down on those, maybe you wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of finding a summer job at the last minute, which you would definitely have to do if you wanted to eat something on that dear beach of yours and not just starve to death under the glaring sun.

That was it - tomorrow, you’d go and get a job. Today, however, you’d enjoy your last day of respite and eat some more cherries, or maybe make some jam and a pie so your parents wouldn’t chide you for eating them all, and then go pick some more from the three trees in your backyard. You’d sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while you read or, if you couldn’t be asked, while you listened to the bustle of the old and worn-down house next door being renovated. You’re surprised someone had the courage to buy it and give it a new life, but you assume that’s the kind of courage that comes with having time and money. 

Yesterday night, you’d heard a little girl playing outside until her mom called her in saying it was time to go, so you made up a story of your neighbors being newlyweds that had decided they’d had enough of the city and wanted to raise their daughter in a calmer town far from busy streets and loud honks. You could bring them some cherries, maybe in jam or pie form, as a housewarming gift.

Unfortunately, the day passed and you were too busy doing nothing to actually get around to baking, so you decided to do nothing some more and then go to bed, needing rest before your big job hunt.

You’d gravely overestimated the amount of job opportunities in your small hometown, only receiving apologetic looks from the store owners as they tell you they don’t need any help, or worse, already have someone. Damn those 16-year-olds who only get summer jobs so they can blow their whole pay in a couple weeks before school starts again. You, on the other hand, need that money for important things, like sipping on a cocktail at a bar with a seaview.

The local hardware store next to the train station is your saving grace. It looks quite small from the outside, but once you step inside, rows of lamps and mirrors in all shapes and sizes along with all kinds of household needs welcome you, followed by a section for gardening and pet caretaking. The basement is where all the paints and brushes were, as well as the more technical (technical to you, at least) products, like bolts and tools or kitchen and bathroom appliances.

A lot of people undertake renovations in their homes during their free time in the summer, so it’s important for the store to have their experts helping out customers in their dedicated aisles rather than working behind the till and restocking the shelves, which is what you will be doing for the next two months. The pay is slightly above minimum wage and with twenty-one hours of work a week, you’ll earn more than enough to enjoy your vacation. You start tomorrow.

Your co-workers are happy to welcome a new face into their team. They’re nice even if they have the tendency to drone on about different types of tools and the importance of choosing the right brush for the surface you’re painting, which you don’t particularly care about, but you think you might as well learn as much as you can during your time here; it might always come in handy later.

As you expected, it isn’t the most stimulating job ever, but you aren’t bored out of your mind either. You make small talk with customers as they explain their purchases, some more defensively than others, even if you didn’t ask. You make sure to restock the shelves correctly and sometimes ask for help when you feel your arms giving out after hours of carrying heavy stuff. When no one’s in, you like to rearrange the cute bathroom decorations so that they make a little rainbow of toothbrush and soap holders.

You were daydreaming about what you would do with your friends in Mexico and all the cherries you could eat there when a man so handsome you thought he was a part of your dream walks in. He doesn’t notice (or maybe he just ignores it, you’re not sure) your gawking and smiles at you, saying “hello” before turning his attention to the map which details where everything is stored at the entrance of the shop. You manage a small “h-hello” back that probably doesn’t even reach his ears, and you curse yourself for doing a poor job of greeting a customer just because said customer looks like he’s been pushed from the heavens above onto this unworthy earth by the other angels who were jealous of his beauty. 

You stay put behind the counter the whole time he’s there to avoid the potential embarrassment of running into him in a random aisle and making a fool of yourself. There isn’t much to do anyway, so you rearrange the organic protein bars and chewing-gum at the counter and count all the money in the cash register to distract yourself. He doesn’t spend a very long time browsing and after twenty minutes, you see him approach with a cart full of the biggest cans of paint the store offers. It’s mostly white paint, but there are some browns and grays, and one of pink as well.

You thank God for those twenty minutes because they allowed you to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t gape at him like a dead fish instead of scanning his articles, which is what you are very professionally and expertly doing. “That’s a lot of paint,” you comment lightheartedly, partly just to prove to yourself that you can also speak in front of this man.

“I know,” he chuckles, and it seems unfair that his voice should be just as attractive as his face. “The previous owners of the house I just bought had terrible taste in wallpaper and wall colors, so I have to repaint basically the whole house. Everything has to go, really. The floors, the furniture, the lights.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have a busy summer. That’ll be $132.76, please.”

“I’ll pay by card,” he says as he brings his wallet out from his back pocket and inserts his card into the reader, which allows you to look freely at his tanned arms and the veins that protrude here and there. He can’t be older than thirty, so there’s probably not that much of an age difference between the two of you, but damn does he look more mature in the sexiest way possible than all of the male college students you’re used to seeing on a daily basis. If anything, he reminds you of the hot young Linguistics professor your whole department likes to drool over. 

The beep of the payment being accepted snaps you out of your daze. “And yeah, it’ll sure be a busy summer. I’ll need a lot of stuff from here, so you might have to get used to seeing me around,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this walking Greek god of a man is actually flirting with you, but the glint in his eyes tells you it wasn’t just an off-hand comment.

“I could get used to that,” you surprise yourself by replying confidently, your smile mirroring his as pretty dimples appear on each side of his face.

You hand him the receipt and notice his eyes flickering down to your name tag before trapping yours in his gaze once again. You don’t think you ever want to look away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says and walks out with his cart and his tons of paint before you can say anything, lest ask his name, except for “see you.”

You take a deep breath in and another out when he’s out of sight, trying to calm your racing heart. You can’t wait to rave to the girls’ group chat about this, but one of your coworkers calls you for help and you have to put the handsome stranger to the back of your mind for a while.

—

That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.

Pitting cherries is an arduous task that always takes longer than you think it will, but you never complain about it. You’ve found the perfect technique of cutting them in half around the pit, turning the small fruit without squeezing it, extracting the stone and making sure it doesn’t get confused and end up in the bowl with the pitted cherries, all without tiring your wrists after ten minutes. A surprise pit in a cherry pie can add to the charm of a homemade dessert, but you’d rather not have to spit out five of them while trying to eat one slice.

You prepare a crumbly dough to make two classic American-style pies and fill four jars with cherry jam that you cook while the doughs rest. It’s almost offensive how small the cherries become as they cook, the amount that fills those four jars having filled eight before, but you decide there’s no reason to take it personally since the cherries don’t do it on purpose, and put the jars away to cool down. You roll out the first rested dough and despair for a bit when it keeps on falling apart, but it just makes it more satisfying once you have it perfectly thinly rolled out and covering the tin. The second one is a bit nicer to you and you only have to try rolling it out twice. 

Two hours later, as the sun finally starts to relent and a cooler breeze flows through the air, the pies are all baked, cooled and ready to be eaten. You leave one for you and your parents to enjoy later, then head over to the next house to greet your new neighbors with the other pie. You knock and wait for a good thirty seconds before getting any sort of response, making you think no one’s in.

“Y/N?” a semi-familiar voice calls out, and your head whips in its direction. If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.

“Oh! Hi! Guess we’re neighbors. Ha,” you say with a clumsy smile, holding the tin over your forearm as your other hand shields your eyes from the sunlight so you can look at him without squinting your eyes.

“Neighbors?” he repeats as he joins you on the front porch, taking off his gloves dirtied by the mud and using the back of his hand to wipe off some sweat from his forehead. The sweat makes his hair stick to his face and there are small beads of it falling from his hairline down onto his white t-shirt. You detect the slightest of stubbles on his chin and upper lip, probably from not having shaved for just a day or two. He’s even tanner than when you saw him a few days ago, and his thick eyebrows form a straight line as he frowns in what you guess is tiredness and perhaps confusion from seeing you in regular clothes and holding a pie tin on his porch. For a second, you’re scared he might think you’re some kind of stalker, but you nod and tilt your head towards your house. 

“Yep. That one just over there behind you.”

He turns his upper body to take a look at your house and nods slowly as he turns back around, gaze finding yours again like the other day at the store. You have no idea who this man is - hell, you don’t even know his name - but good lord are you attracted to him, especially when he gives you that unreadable smile that shows off his dimples. 

“Huh. What a coincidence,” he says, and that could mean anything in the world, but you hope he means it in a good way. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.” he adds, extending his hand for you to take, which you do, and the simple action of shaking his hand without eye contact ever breaking is enough to send shivers down your spine. Hopefully, this goes unnoticed by this Sunghoon.

A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior. 

“Is that pie?” he asks as he releases your hand.

“It is, cherry pie I made myself with cherries from our backyard. A housewarming gift, if you will. Here,” you reply, offering him the tin.

He takes it from your hands, the tips of his fingers slightly grazing yours, on purpose or not, you’re not sure. He lifts some of the aluminum covering the pie and peeks underneath, then hums appreciatively. “Thanks, it looks really good. I’ve been living off of ready-meals and casseroles from the neighbors, so this’ll be really nice.”

“Well we’ve got tons of cherries, so feel free to ask whenever you want some,” you offer, and he nods. A small silence settles between the two of you and you’re about to excuse yourself so it doesn’t get awkward when he invites you in, asking if you’d like to have a piece with him.

“If you want to, I mean. I was gonna take a break anyway,” he says somewhat coyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. You’re surprised to see him being anything else other than confident and self-assured, but it only makes him look cuter in your eyes.

“Sure,” you accept with a smile, letting him lead you inside the house.

“Sorry, it smells like paint all over the house. That’s why I was outside, doing some gardening while I aired the house out,” he explains. “Let me just get some plates and a knife out. And something for us to drink. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water, or some iced tea or lemonade. The grandma across the street made some for me,” he says all at once, and you suppress a giggle at his sudden nervous behavior.

“Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately, turning to you just as you both reach the kitchen.

“Just water is fine.”

A shy smile makes his dimples appear once again as he nods. “Okay, sounds good.” You help him carry everything to the back porch and set down the glasses and a jug of water on a table with two chairs around it.

“The porches are the only parts I won’t have to fix up too much, for some reason.”

“You’re going to redo the whole house yourself?” you ask, surprised, as you pour two glasses of water and he serves you a slice of cherry pie (“there might be some stray cherry pits, so be careful,” you warn as he sets a slice on his plate).

“A lot of it, yeah, but I’ve also got some people to help out. My dad’s a carpenter so I know my way around these things, but I also know it’s better and faster to have more than one man on the job, so some guys he works with come a couple times a week.”

“Yeah, with the state this house is in, you’d need more than a summer if you did everything yourself,” you comment, and he chuckles, agreeing. “My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.

“Please don’t jinx my house from the get-go,” he says, making you laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. It’ll be nice seeing it all fixed-up, actually.”

“Have you lived here long?” he asks, looking at you thoughtfully as he takes another bite of the pie. “This is really good, by the way.”

“Thanks. And yeah, my whole life. I go away when semester starts but come back for the holidays and the summer.”

“So you're a student?”

“Yeah, just at the state university a few hours away. Not too far away that it’s a hassle traveling back, but not too close that I go home every weekend. What about you, what do you do?”

You wait for his answer while he swallows his mouthful and take another bite yourself. “I teach,” he starts as he dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Fifth graders, on the other side of town. I used to live in a small apartment near the school I work at but it’s nicer, having more space. I saved enough money to buy this house and fix it up, so here I am now,” he says, gesturing to the house and the garden with his arms. 

You notice his use of the first person pronoun when he talks about where he used to live and his house now, which makes you wonder if it’s just him, even though you were sure you heard a woman and a young girl’s voices the other day. Surely, if he wasn’t single, he wouldn’t have invited you in or given you flirtatious looks, right? Or were you reading totally wrong into this and he was just an exceptionally friendly person?

You put these questions to the side and continue chatting with Sunghoon, letting the subject of his marital status come up on its own during your conversation. And indeed, you get your answer when he tells you about the different parts of the house he plans on having, one of them being a bedroom for his daughter.

“Oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?” you ask as you take a sip of water, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Considering his age, you expect that his child will be one, two years old max, so his answer makes you almost choke on your drink.

“She’s turning eight this summer.”

“Eight?” you repeat as you set your glass down, looking at him wide-eyed. So much for nonchalance. “But you’re so-”

“Young? Yeah, I know,” he interrupts with a knowing smile, probably used to this kind of reaction. “I’m 26,” he adds, then watches as you do the simple math in your head. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he answers your question before you’ve even asked it. “Yep, I had her when I was 18.”

“Wow,” is all you can say. “Can I ask what happened?”

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing extraordinary or anything. I was in my last year of high school, and I got my girlfriend at the time pregnant. We’d only been dating four months but her parents wouldn’t let her get an abortion. They’re really religious. They took care of our baby, with the help of my parents, while I went to community college and she retook senior year since she had to drop out halfway through the year. No, we’re not together anymore, if you’re wondering,” he says, catching you off guard, as if he’d read your thoughts. 

He chuckles before sighing and continues. “If none of this had happened, we’d probably have broken up before going off to college and proceeded to forget about each other. We started out living with her parents, then got that small apartment I told you about when she found a job. We’re not on bad terms by any means, but we’ve just not been in love since Chaeryeong turned 2, probably. We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”

You nod slowly, letting the whole story sink in. “You’re both handling this situation really maturely, it sounds like. I’ve heard of so many teenage parents fighting all the time and not taking care of their kids properly.”

“She’s already got a weird parental situation, it’s the least we can do for her to behave like adults, you know.”

“Right, of course,” you say, nodding again. Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.

He tells you a bit more about his daughter and you keep talking until your dad calls you, asking you why you’re not home at dinner time, and you only notice then how long you’ve been sitting there with Sunghoon, just talking. You tell him you feel bad for taking up so much of his time but he shakes your apologies off.

“It was my pleasure, really. And thanks again for the pie, I think Chaer will love it.”

He walks you to the front door and calls out your name after you’ve waved goodbye and started walking. You didn’t know you had been expecting him to do anything until you heard the hopeful tone in your own voice. “Yeah?”

“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.

Although you’ve only got one older brother, you have younger cousins as well as older ones that have babies of their own, so you’re not a complete stranger to kids, but more importantly, you like them. They have the world to learn, but they say surprisingly smart things and have really cute faces.

“I’d say that I am, yeah,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, mirroring his expression.

“Good,” he says, and pauses a second for good measure. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Sunghoon,” you say as you turn back and head to your house, letting him enjoy the view of you walking away. 

On the short way home, you realize that you completely have the hots for your neighbor, although you probably knew that before. Is it twisted that you like him more now that you know he’s got a kid? Probably a little bit, but you’re not going to fight it. He’s single, after all. And not even thirty. A five-year gap isn’t unheard of. 

Your parents ask you where you’ve been as you set the table and get ready for dinner. “Just over at our new neighbor’s house to give him some pie and say hi,” you say as you toss the salad in its bowl, spreading the dressing evenly. 

“Ooh, the neighbor,” your mother echoes knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows, and steals a leaf of lettuce when it falls from the bowl because of your vigorous tossing. “We should have him over at some point, welcome him into the neighborhood. I’ve seen him a bit, you know. Out painting on his front porch or when he was in his garden the same time as me. He’s a very attractive young man,” she says, lowering her voice so your dad doesn’t hear even though he’s outside grilling the meat. “Do you know how old he is? Looks a bit young for a homeowner to me, but who knows what young people are up to these days.

“He’s twenty-six, and he’s saved a lot of money. Plus, I don’t think that house was very expensive. From what he’s told me, the renovations will basically cost as much as the house itself. He’s also got a kid.”

“Aw, must be a cute baby,” she says as your father walks in, carrying a tray of steaming barbecued steaks and potatoes.

“She’s eight,” you say bluntly, causing them both to look at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, right, then. Happens,” your mother says, bringing her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip from it. “Is he still with the mother?”

“They broke up a while ago, but they’re on good terms,” you say, and your mom nods slowly at the information.

“So, he’s single, huh?” she says, trying to hide her smile, earning herself a groan from your dad and a chuckle from you. 

“C’mon, mom!”

“What? You can’t deny that he’s attractive, and he’s single. Plus, you two must get along well if you spent a couple hours talking. Sure, he’s got a kid, but you love those, don’t you?”

“Mom, you of all people would know kids aren’t pets. Dating someone with an eight-year-old isn’t the same as dating someone with a cat.

“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”

Your dad shakes his head and you eat your food as you listen to them bickering with a smile. You think about what your mother said - should you go and get Sunghoon? Your heart says yes, but your brain is a bit more reluctant. Another part of your body, lower down there, is screaming ‘yes’ at you.

He does live right by, after all.

That night, you FaceTime your roommate and best friend from college and bring her up to date about ‘the hot man from the store the other day.’ She paints her toenails but listens intently as she always does when you talk about boys, humming and chuckling here and there.

“God, Y/N, I didn’t know you had daddy issues, of all things.”

You gasp fake-dramatically. “Excuse me, I do not! I was attracted to him before I knew he was a dad, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me know when you guys actually hook up, I’m curious whether older men are actually better,” she says, making you scoff.

“I hope he is. I’m very much tired of those boys that don’t know where the clit is and use too much tongue.”

“You know, when I complain to my mom about guys, she always tells me to wait it out a few years. She says they get more mature and, well, she didn’t say that outright, but she very heavily implied that the sex is much, much better. Kinda gross hearing it from her, but it’s good information.”

You hum. “Well, he’s not that much older… But let’s hope that it still makes a difference,” you say, and then move on to another topic. 

—

One thing that eating cherries has taught you is that if you want to enjoy eating the sweet flesh, you’ll need to deal with the pit as well. Ever the grand philosopher, you realized soon enough that this was applicable to real life and not just your favorite fruit. Wanna get a good grade on your test? Gotta study for it. Wanna go on holiday to Mexico? Gotta find a summer job and earn money.

Wanna make your way to Sunghoon’s bed? Gotta seduce him.

Over the following days, you stand behind the counter at the hardware store, elbow perched on the hard surface, head resting on your palm and vision fuzzy as you daydream about your next encounter with Sunghoon. More often than not, a customer will clear their throat to awkwardly let you know of their presence and you’ll have to exchange your imagined dialogue with Sunghoon for a quick apology and some pleasantries; more often than not, a coworker will call out your name for some help just as you get to the juicy part of your reverie. In those moments, you always feel like you’ve been caught red-handed watching softcore porn, even if no one knows the last thing about what goes on in your head, nor do they care. 

Much like the first time he walked into the store, when he does again on a Thursday morning, you think your daydreams have just gone too far and you’re now hallucinating. But, lo and behold, this is the true Park Sunghoon in the flesh, and he smiles and waves at you as he strides in before disappearing behind one of the many aisles.

You spend the next fifteen minutes going over witty conversation starters that will surely make him fall for you, only for you to stutter out a “h-hi, Sunghoon,” when he finally reaches the counter.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he jokes, and you laugh a bit too hard for a comment that isn’t that funny.

“How are the renovations going?” you ask as you scan his articles - some more paint and brushes, lots of tile glue, a bunch of nails and two different sizes of turnscrews. He frowns in concentration at the snacks next to the counter until he caves in and gets a chocolate protein bar that’s more sugar than protein. 

“Pretty okay,” he starts. “I’m in a bit of a rush, cause Chaer is already coming in two weeks and I need to have finished at least the interior by that time. My dad’s friends helped me get the roof done, so that’s good, but now they’re all busy with other sites so it's just me. Right now I’m redoing the tiles in the bathrooms. You need so much damn glue,” he says with a chuckle.

You think for a second, then timidly offer, “I could help out, you know. If you needed me to.” 

He looks at you with raised eyebrows, halfway through getting his card out of his wallet. “Really?”

“I mean, I don’t have much experience with this kinda stuff, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from working here. If it saves you time, I could do the easy things. This job isn’t particularly physically demanding so I’ve still got energy at the end of the day. That’s $78.96, please.”

A small smile appears on his face as he inserts his card into the reader. He punches in his code and then returns your gaze. “That could be nice, actually.”

And that’s how you find yourself over at Sunghoon’s house in denim shorts and your dad’s old t-shirts almost everyday for the next two weeks, helping him fix up the old two-storey home. He measures out the perfect length for wood planks or marble tiles that you assist him in fastening to the floors of different rooms and he fixes holes in walls that you paint over afterwards. Sometimes on your breaks, you share a bowl of cherries that you brought from your garden. (One morning, you tried to make cherry juice out of them, but when after almost two hours of pitting the liquid barely filled a glass, you decided that it was too much effort and that you’d keep on just eating them and baking the occasional pie.) You asked him to tell you what each of the rooms upstairs would be and you realized that the window of his room faced yours directly. The blinds were down as they had always been, so you hadn’t known what the room would be.

“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I haven’t gotten around to fixing up this room yet. Guess I should get to it, though,” he says, giving you a look that blurs the meaning of his words so that you’re not sure what he’s implying, which happens a bit too often with Sunghoon.

And you’d think that spending the better part of two weeks with the current man of your dreams would be amazing, right? 

Wrong. It’s unbearable.

Maybe that’s exaggerating it - it’s mostly fun, and sometimes unbearable. Usually, you’re an avid fan of sexual tension, especially with attractive men like Sunghoon. Lingering gazes, eye contacts when there shouldn’t be any, remarks with a deeper meaning that they let on, barely-there touches on the back of your hand or on your waist that manage to take your breath away. These are all very fine things that keep your heart bouncing and a blush on your cheeks, but they are supposed to amount to something more in the end. Maybe you’re impatient, but after two weeks of sending sex through your eyes to Sunghoon, you get the feeling that he doesn’t reciprocate your desire. One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house. When he came back about ten minutes later, he could still barely look at you.

At the same time, there’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands close behind you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, big, rough hands enveloping yours as he demonstrates how to cut a plank of wood with the machine. There’s no way the way he smirks when the action turns you into a stammering mess is innocent, either.

Yet nothing happens. The tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife, but maybe Sunghoon hasn’t bought cutlery yet. The air is already heavy from the heat and the relentlessness of the sun, but this thing between you and him makes it almost suffocating, in somehow the best yet worst way possible. You’re this close to simply throwing your naked body at him, and it doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday. On the days he wears shorts, which is most days, all you can think of is getting off on his thick thighs, of his hands holding you tightly by the waist, of the way he’d look at you, eyes clouded over, of the words he’d whisper in your-

Your phone buzzes, interrupting you in your horny downward spiral. It’s your dear mother telling you to come home for dinner. As you pick up your phone, a second buzz. Ask Sunghoon if he wants to eat with us. 

You find him in his bedroom, adding the last touches to the walls. “I think I’ll be able to sleep here starting tomorrow night. I just need to go buy a bed,” he says when he sees your figure standing in the doorway.

“We can go together if you want,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. Hoping it’ll make you seem less weird, you add, “I’ve got really good taste in furniture.”

“Is that so?” he questions, turning to you with a smile. “I’d appreciate the second pair of eyes, actually. There’s a lot of things I need to get.”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna comment on it, but I think you’ll end up needing more than a couch, a plastic dining table and two chairs,” you tease, making him roll his eyes lightheartedly. “We can go to that huge second-hand store they have just outside of town. You’ll be surprised how good - and cheap - the furniture is there.”

“Sounds good,” he nods, and checks his watch. “Are you going home?”

“I am. My mom’s invited you over for dinner, if you’d like,” you say, tilting your head at him.

He raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise. “I’d love to. Just need to shower first.”

“That’s fine. I’ll go home, just come over whenever you’re ready.” You exchange quick see you laters and you head home, taking a shower yourself and making sure to use your best-smelling body lotion.

Sunghoon arrives half an hour later with a bouquet of roses in his hands and an award-winning smile on his face. You let him in and he greets your parents, offering your mother the bouquet. “Sorry I took so much time getting here, I wanted to pick these out as a thank you.”

You can tell your mother is pleased to the heavens as she waves him off, leading him inside your house. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr Park-”

“Call me Sunghoon, please,” he says with a warm smile.

“Right, Sunghoon. And no worries, you’re just on time. Please, sit.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, no, you’re working all day fixing up that house, just sit and relax. We’re very happy to have you over, aren’t we?” your mother says, sending a very obvious smile your way, which makes you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head lightly at her, silently telling her to shut up. Sunghoon chuckles at the exchange but says nothing and you want to bury yourself and your mother ten feet underground.

Sunghoon sits across from you at the dinner table, which allows you to stare unabashedly at him as he works his charm on your parents. He’s the neighbor, so technically, he’s not a boyfriend you brought home to meet them, but still, you can’t help but compare him to those few boys that you did bring home. None of them were a disaster, but none of them went as smoothly as this, either. There were always some awkward silences and dry chuckles with your past boyfriends, but Sunghoon clearly knows how to make parents happy. Maybe because he lived with his ex’s parents for so long, or maybe because he’s a parent himself. Either way, it only adds to your desire to take all of his clothes and let him rail you into next week. Too bad he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, you remind yourself with an audible sigh, which makes him look curiously at you, but you brush it off with a smile.

You watch as he accepts a beer, compliments the food and the house, talks football with your dad, accepts another beer, and shares teaching anecdotes with your mom, who herself is an elementary school teacher. You jump in every now and then when you have something witty to add or someone asks your opinion on something, but most of the time, you sit back and enjoy, happy that everything is going well. 

You bring out your infamous cherry pie that you’d baked the previous day along with some vanilla ice cream for dessert, and smile when Sunghoon tells you how much he’d been waiting to have some of it again, trying not to blush as his gaze stays focused on yours for a second too long. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice, too busy cutting themselves a slice. 

He stays for another hour or so, until the sun has set and the streetlamps and the moonlight are the only things keeping the world visible. Your mom forces him to accept tupperwares full of leftovers from the night and makes him promise to come back with his daughter. Sneakily, she tells you to help him carry the tupperwares home even though he’s more than able to do it himself, then hugs him goodbye, hurrying you out of the door.

Sunghoon hasn’t yet changed the lightbulbs to more efficient ones, so his kitchen bathes in the faint glow of the overhead lighting as you put away the leftovers in his fridge. He stands a bit to your right close behind you, closer than needed to simply hand you the tupperwares he was holding. When everything is stored, you turn around, but you’re trapped between his body and his arm that holds the fridge door open. With his free hand, he takes you by the waist and pulls you gently towards him. “Careful,” he says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, and closes the fridge door behind you. 

He’s never been this forward with you, and even though you’ve fantasized many times about this exact moment, now that it’s really happening, you don’t know what to do except to search for an explanation in his eyes. His eyes that are looking right into yours and are a bit clouded over, from the alcohol or the proximity between the two of you or both, you don’t know, but that also have the twinkle of a smile in them. 

His lips are close enough to kiss, you think, and as if on cue, his gaze drifts down to your slightly parted lips. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” he says, before sealing your lips with his own. You respond immediately to his kiss - you’ve thought too much about it to stand there and do nothing - but it’s all so slow and so soft that you’re not sure if it’s actually happening, so dreamlike it all feels.

You’re called back to reality when his other hand finds your waist, your own hands coming up to his shoulders before one of them snakes its way to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. This seems to change something in Sunghoon, who all of a sudden tightens his hold on your waist, his arms wrapping around it to bring you closer to him. His kiss gets faster and deeper too, and, to your surprise but not your distaste, a bit desperate. You’re happy if you have on him half of the power he has on you. You taste sweet vanilla ice cream and tangy beer on his tongue, and it’s not at all unpleasant. It makes you want to eat cherries together so you can then taste them in his kiss. 

A lustful sigh escapes your lips and then the warmth disappears all at once. Sunghoon looks at you like you just woke him up from a deep slumber and takes a step back away from you. You call out for him worriedly and the sound of his name seems to make him think he did something terribly wrong.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.

“Why?” you ask quietly, almost inaudible.

“You should go home,” he snaps, then closes his eyes as if in pain, cringing at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I think you should go home, it’s getting late,” he repeats, softer this time, but the words still sting.

“O-okay,” you say to the floor, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. You feel like you just got rejected by your high school crush, and the humiliation makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. 

Sunghoon sighs again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow about the furniture shopping, yeah? Chaeryeong is coming in the morning so we can go with her.”

“O-okay,” you repeat, surprised he still wants to do that with you. “Good night, Sunghoon,” you say without looking at him and scurry out of his house.

“Good night, Y/N,” Sunghoon answers to the emptiness after you’ve left, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and feeling the ghost of your kiss there.

—

Truth be told, you haven’t always loved cherries. Because of a heinous lie your older brother had made you believe when you were just six years old, you hadn’t eaten cherries for two summers in a row. It was the summer your parents had finally allowed you to eat cherries as they came from the trees in your backyard - beforehand, they’d been too scared that you’d choke on the pit or swallow it unknowingly, and had always prepared purées or other forms that cherries can take for you to eat, so to be finally handed the small fruit and told “go ahead, try it,” felt like an honor. 

A simple “don’t forget to spit out the pit” from your mother had sufficed for you to be careful, and yet, your brother had thought a fear tactic would be more effective. “If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table. 

“Really?” you asked him in disbelief, horror written all over your face as you looked at the seemingly harmless yet deadly fruit in your hand. You’d already eaten two and were in the middle of eating a third; your brother nodding ‘yes’ in response was all it took for you to spit out the cherry furiously and immediately start sobbing, afraid you’d swallowed one even though all three pits were right there on the table, a guarantee that no unwanted flora would grow inside of you. 

Your mother rushed outside at the sound of your wailing and quickly put two and two together when she saw your brother laughing uncontrollably while you hid your face in your hands, desolately imagining your future as a walking cherry tree. She held you tight in her arms as she told your brother off and reassured you that he was just playing a stupid prank on you. Still, the simple thought of swallowing a pit had terrified you and you were unable to eat cherries for the remainder of the summer and the one after that.

This is the story you tell Chaeryeong and her dad as the three of you sit outside together, making them laugh - although, a few minutes later, when Sunghoon is gone to the bathroom away, Chaer leans over the table and whispers, “It’s not true, is it?” so you reassure her that you’ve eaten cherries your whole life and have never had one single root take life in your tummy. 

It’s been a bit over a week after you shared that kiss in his kitchen, and the awkward atmosphere is just starting to fade. You’re glad he didn’t ignore you after that night, even if pretending nothing happened when both of you are very aware that something did happen is only the slightly better alternative. It’s a refreshing change from boys that sleep with you and then act like you don’t exist, for sure.

The kiss hasn’t done anything to burst the tension; if anything, it’s made it even more electric. You catch him looking at your lips more than once and you wonder why he still acts the same way as before when he’s made it very clear he didn’t think kissing you was a good idea. Catching him shirtless one night in his bedroom doesn’t help, and neither does him catching you staring at him - you’d quickly shut the curtains, but it was too late, and he’d seen you ogling his toned chest and abs.

At least, the fact that Chaeryeong is here forces a bubbly atmosphere upon you, and you hope you’re not crazy when you notice him fondly looking at the both of you interacting. Chaer is an outgoing little girl and seems to have liked you as soon as you complimented the toy puppy in her hand, saying you used to have the same and it was your favorite.

The day you went food shopping was practically hell to get through. One evening, you were holding onto Sunghoon for dear life, finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.

When it got to the bedroom part of the store, you and Chaer decided to try all the mattresses and find the most comfortable one. You usually were never one for seating and laying on random beds in stores, but there was a kid with you, so you were sure it’d be fine. When you found the one you liked most, you looked up at Sunghoon from your position and said, “This one’s pretty good, Sunghoon.” His immediately reddening cheeks told you everything you needed to know and you quickly sat up, clearing your throat. He tested the mattress by pushing his palm against it and muttered a “yeah, it’s pretty good” before scribbling down the number of the mattress onto the small sheet of paper customers use to remember which products they wanted.

Of course, now that Chaer is with him and most of the work in the house is done, save for some minor things that Sunghoon can finish up on his own, you spend a lot less time together. You hate that you miss him so much. You miss the way he makes you feel, like your whole body is on fire with just one look or one touch, the way his stupid jokes make you laugh or how endeared he looks when he talks about his daughter. Seeing him with her only adds to your stupid crush - he’s doting, protective and caring, makes sure she has everything to be happy and manages to treat her at once like the kid that she is but also like a human that has opinions and feelings. He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.

You hate that you miss him, and yet being with him is somehow worse, because you can’t do any of the things you want to do. You fall asleep one two many nights dreaming about his lips and how nice it’d be to feel them again - on your lips, on your neck, everywhere. You want to feel him everywhere, and this longing lust is starting to drive you crazy. You’d never wanted anyone this much.

He invites you over for dinner one night, and the look he gives you when he opens the door sends a shiver right down your spine. “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi, Sunghoon.”

He leads you into the kitchen with a hand on your waist, even though you’ve been in his house many times before and need no assistance getting there. A small, horny voice at the back of your head tells you that tonight may be the night, but you quickly shut it down, not wanting to get your hopes up all on your own.

Sunghoon serves you a glass of red wine, and you ask him what the occasion is. “Just to celebrate the house being almost done,” he answers with a smile.

Dinner would have gone as usual if Sunghoon wasn’t practically staring you down the whole time, eyes full of something you can’t quite put your finger on and that drives you crazy. His gaze lingers on you every time you speak, and he punctuates the syllables of your name like he’s trying to get a feel for them on his tongue.

Your heart is pounding in your chest when the clock strikes nine p.m. and it’s time for Chaeryeong to go to bed - you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being alone with Sunghoon, and you might have to make a run for it, Cinderella-style. 

Chaer goes to the bathroom to wash up and change into her pajamas, and when she comes back, she asks - no, demands - that you’re the one who tucks her in, and who are you to say no to the cutest little girl on Earth? She holds you by the pinky as she drags you up the stairs to her room then buries herself in her covers, tapping on the bed next to her body for you to sit there. “Okay, now we can talk without Dad around,” she says all business-like.

She tells you about the boys at her school and the birthday party she went to last week and the latest drama with her friends. The both of you are too busy chatting and giggling to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at her door, hiding behind the wall. After ten minutes, she yawns loudly and says, “Can you call Dad? I think he’ll be sad if he doesn’t wish me good night.”

“Of course,” you reply and kiss her on the forehead, wishing her a good night yourself. You’re only half-surprised to find Sunghoon at the doorway, waiting for his cue.

“Wait up for me, yeah? I’ll just be a minute,” he says, that smile still on his lips, that smile that keeps you hoping.

“Okay,” you whisper, and head downstairs, nervously taking a sip from your wine glass as you wait for him on the living room couch.

He is indeed back in a very short time, too short a time for your nerves to settle, so when he sits down close to you on the couch, body turned towards yours, you can feel your heart in your throat. He traces the rim of his glass with the tip of his pointer finger and you both watch the slow movement for a bit, a heavy silence hanging over both of your heads. You wait for him to talk because you’re too scared of what you might say if you start the conversation.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he starts shakily, “about um, our kiss, the other day-”

“Oh, we don’t need to talk about that,” you quickly interrupt, waving your hand in dismissal at him. “You made it clear you didn’t like it-”

“No, that’s the thing-”

“And that you thought it was a bad idea-”

“No, just listen-”

“So let’s just forget about it, and-”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says in a stern voice, raising his tone just enough to make you stop in your rambling.

“Yeah?” you look up at him, eyes wide open. Expecting, as always.

“I haven’t once stopped thinking about that kiss,” he says, sounding out-of-breath. “I handled it awfully, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t like it, because, God, I liked it. A lot,” he chuckles. “Maybe even too much.”

There they are, the words you’ve been dying to hear. Yet all you can say is a stupid “Oh.”

“I just… I was tipsy, and Chaeryeong was coming the next morning, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the week, and you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. But I can’t pretend like it isn’t there.”

“Like what isn’t there?” you echo, voice almost low as a whisper.

“You know… this,” he replies, voice as low as yours. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to trace your jawline. You release a shaky breath as you set your wine glass on the coffee table and rest your hand on his knee.

“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,” you murmur, hands slowly sliding up his thigh. He takes you by the wrist and puts your hand right on top of his already growing erection, letting you know exactly how he feels about you.

“God, can’t you see what you do to me? I want you so bad, Y/N,” he almost growls, and with that, his lips are on yours, trapping you into a kiss far hungrier and more ferocious than the previous kiss, your mutual intentions finally laid out in front of you for you both to see.

Sunghoon wastes no time as he grabs you by the waist and brings you to his lap, sitting you on top of his crotch so that you can feel his hardening cock against your core. The kiss turns desperate in mere seconds, and you’re relieved to see that Sunghoon seems to have been waiting for this as long and with as much ardor as you have. Your hands are fisting his hair, tugging almost harshly, while his hands roam the expanse of your back until they settle on your ass, grabbing at it to press you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth when his erection rubs over your core in just the right way, and he takes that opportunity to add tongue to the kiss, deepening it.

You start to grind yourself against him, which he helps you do by slightly rutting his hips into yours and bringing your ass closer at every movement. Quickly, you fall into a rhythm so perfect and that feels so good, you think you might explode right then and there. Forget riding his thigh, this is infinitely better.

Needing to catch your breath, you pull away from the kiss, but your lips find his jaw immediately and you start pressing wet, needy kisses there and down his neck, sucking in some spots so that light bruises appear. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so nice,” he breathes, eyes shut closed. His scent drives you crazy, and his small praise makes you double down on your actions, almost biting the soft skin of his neck.

As you continue kissing him there, occasionally returning to his lips for more, his hands roam your thighs and then up your back, snaking themselves under your t-shirt and finding the clasp of your bra, quickly doing away with it. He pulls away just so he can help you out of your top and takes your bra off of you, hands caressing your sides as he admires your half-naked body in all its glory. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, resting your hands on top of his as you continue grinding onto him and let him play with your boobs. “You’re so fucking hot,” he practically moans, making you chuckle. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt, because it’s only fair that you get to see him too, and you bite back a moan when he uses the absence of your hands on his to pinch your nipples lightly, then takes one in his mouth, catching you off-guard. You forget all about your plan of undressing him as his tongue flicks at the perked bud, your hands finding his hair again as you moan unabashedly. 

“S-Sunghoon,” you breathe, the combined feelings of his now fully hard cock pressing against your clothed but soaking cunt and of his warm mouth around your nipples really getting to your head and making you see stars, so that all you can say is his name. “Please,” you beg, you’re not sure what for. Mercy, perhaps. Or release.

“Please what, baby?” he asks, and the nickname goes straight to your core.

“I don’t- just, please, Sunghoon, please,” you say incoherently, making him chuckle.

“Okay,” he says as if he can read your mind, and you think he actually does when he lays you down on the couch, fingers finding the zipper of your shorts. He unbuttons them and slides them down your legs along with your soaked panties. He makes sure they’re fully off of your body before running his palms up both of your legs, from your ankles to your hips.

“Don’t tease, please,” you plead, too desperate for him to take his time.

“As you wish, princess,” he smirks, and brings a finger to your folds, sliding it down to gather some slick before pushing it inside your hole. Your back arches as an instant response to his touch and you let out a small whine, already craving for more. “Fuck, so wet, and all for me, yeah?” he questions, his eyes not once leaving your glistening pussy.

“Yes,” you breathe out, mind too fuzzy to produce a longer sentence.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos, and adds another finger, pushing all three of his knuckles in and massaging your sweet spot as soon as he finds it. When he’s found a rhythm for his motions, he finally looks up at you and curses himself for not having watched your face earlier. Head tilted back in pleasure, mouth agape as your breathing gets more and more irregular and eyebrows scrunched together, you look like the definition of sex, and it takes everything in Sunghoon to not start touching himself.

He forces himself to look away from you only to focus back on your pussy and notices your swollen clit that is begging for attention. He licks it tentatively, and when your back arches at the feeling of his tongue on you, he dives in completely, licking a stripe up your folds before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking at it like he did with your nipples earlier. The pace at which his fingers are pumping out of you quickens and you’re pulling so hard at his hair, you think you might rip some strands off. You feel yourself getting close, and you’re reminded of all those frustrating encounters with college boys where they stopped right before you came, so you can’t stop yourself as you desperately chant “oh my God please don’t stop please don’t stop,” not even noticing the way you’re holding his head down against your clit and bucking your hips into his face.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck - this is probably the first one you’ve received from someone other than your own hand or your vibrator in the past year and a half. It takes your breath away, and you’re left gasping for air for a good thirty seconds, your mind reeling from the intensity of such pleasure. When you calm down, you lift your head to look at Sunghoon who’s already watching you with a grin on his face, your slick coating his chin and mouth.

You plop your head back down with a groan when realization hits you. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Sunghoon commands, hands rubbing your still-trembling thighs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Really?”

“Really.”

After another couple of seconds, you sit up on the couch and send Sunghoon a mischievous look. My turn, you think, and if his smile is any indicator then he seems to have understood. “Let me thank you,” you say, gesturing at him to sit up himself as you lower yourself to your knees on the couch in front of him.

You look up at him from between his thighs then unclasp his belt and undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “You don’t need to do this, you know-”

“Don’t be a gentleman, Sunghoon. I want to do this and I know you want it too. It’s pretty obvious,” you tease as you run your hand over his erection, watching in delight as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes close. “Now help me get these off of you.” He nods and raises his hips so you can take his jeans and underwear off, imitating his actions from before as you take your time to get them over his ankles and caressing his legs until they reach his crotch, watching as he takes his t-shirt off as well so that you can finally see him entirely. You’d caught glimpse of him shirtless before as he worked in his garden, but the sight still manages to take your breath away. Taut muscles and sun-tanned skin, laid bare right before you. This is what they mean by sculpted like a Greek god, you think.

You haven’t done anything, yet his head is already laid back against the top of the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps in expectation and chest rising visibly at every intake of breath. You must’ve saved a thousand souls in your previous life to be deserving of such an image.

You spit in your palm before taking him, starting out by slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, then rubbing small circles against his tip, the small moan-like sighs that leave his lips letting you know you’re doing a good job. You gather some saliva in your mouth and spit on his length to add some lubricant and smirk when he lets out a low fuck. You bring your head closer and lick his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking very gently, making the volume of his moans increase. “Just like- fuck, just like that, Y/N.”

You then lick a long stripe up his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip when you reach it, humming at the taste of precum there. Sunghoon gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn’t get in your way, and finally looks down at you, blown away by the beautiful sight of your flushed cheeks and your mouth around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper and unconsciously bucks his hips into your throat, making you gag around him. He loves that feeling but doesn’t want to hurt you so he grabs your face and makes you look up at him, lust and worry written all over his face as he apologizes, but you quickly stop him. “It’s okay, I like it. You can do it again,” you say, and smile before wrapping your lips around him once more.

“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks and you hum, sending vibrations all over his body.

“God, o-okay,” he says, in disbelief that you’re okay with him practically fucking your throat and even liking it. And you do like it - you love letting him use your mouth to get off, just like you had earlier with him. He must have amazing core strength because he’s able to buck his hips into your mouth rapidly as he holds your head tight in his hands. The way you keep coming back for more every time he lets you breathe is enough to drive him crazy, but after a couple minutes, he stops you from taking him in your mouth again.

“I can’t- I don’t wanna cum like this,” he breathes, looking just as fucked-out as you do.

“Where, then?” you ask, kissing him all over his thighs as he trails his fingers through your hair. “Inside?”

He groans at the offer but shakes his head, eyes shut as if trying to calm himself down. “I haven’t got any condoms.”

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, still pressing kisses on his warm skin. You’re far too desperate to feel him inside you to let a lack of condom stop you, especially when you don’t even need one.

He lets out an umpteenth shaky breath and makes you look up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Sunghoon,” you say, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You’re relieved when he smiles and nods, bending down to trap your lips in a heated kiss for good measure. Something about being in this position, kneeling in front of his spread thighs and having to look up at him, turns you on even more.

“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling as he pulls away, holding you gently by the chin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, and I want to feel you cum around me. So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”

The question takes you aback but you answer it anyway, looking at the ground. “Reverse cowgirl…” you admit shyly, a small smile spreading on your lips.

“Reverse cowgirl, huh?” Sunghoon repeats, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Come here, then,” he says, and helps you up, making you turn around so your back faces him and seats you down on top of him, keeping your hips raised. He takes his cock inside his hands, pumps it a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, pressing kisses to your shoulders and nape to make you relax. 

You moan at the simple feeling of his tip teasing your entrance and Sunghoon whispers “I know, baby” against your skin. “Sit down for me,” he commands gently, and you oblige, lowering your hips slowly to feel all of him stretching you out, the both of you moaning in synchronization when he bottoms out.

Sunghoon wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you onto him so that your back rests against his chest and you can let your head hang back next to his. “Let me do all the work, yeah?” he murmurs into your ear, and you hum in response. He doesn’t move for a bit, roaming his large hands all over your body until he feels your walls relax around him. One of his hands finds your breasts, playing with each nipple in turn, while the other finds your clit. It’s all so much but so good that you’re already a moaning mess before he’s even started moving. “Ready?” he asks, but you’re too far gone to answer.

His pace starts out slow, but you’re impatient and whine as you try to move your hips against his to go faster, which makes him tut. “I told you I’d do the work, didn’t I?” he asks, pinching one of your nipples in reprimand. “So be good for me and stay still, Y/N. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You whine again but stop moving, heeding his words.

“Perfect,” he whispers and kisses your neck before picking up the pace, shushing you when your moans get too loud.

“I’m sorry, just feels too good,” you manage to let out.

“I know, but you need to stay quiet, baby,” he says, yet gets rougher with his thrusts, which does not help in the slightest. His hand that was on your breasts comes up to cover your mouth, but he quickly decides to make you suck on two of his fingers instead, muffling your moans a bit.

His fingers on your clit haven’t relented this whole time and after just a few minutes, you feel that familiar knot tying itself again in your stomach and you know you’re mere moments away from it coming undone. Judging by his rapid but clumsy thrusts, Sunghoon must be close too. He pounds into you like you’ve been wanting him to ever since you first set eyes on him as he entered the hardware store, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Tears roll down your cheeks and you whimper around his fingers, biting down on them as your second orgasm hits you.

You’re practically sobbing as he helps you ride out your high, his movements sending your body into pleasant overstimulation until he reaches his high too, the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him pushing him over the edge. Ropes of his semen paint your walls white, and there’s enough of it for him to become a father of two. You whine as he pulls away, and feel his cum slipping out of you and onto the couch underneath you. Before you can catch your breath, he asks, “Baby, can I do something very dirty?” and you nod without thinking much. This man could do anything he wanted to you, and you’d thank him for it.

He settles you back down onto the couch, kneels on the floor, head level with your core, and sticks his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp in surprise and overstimulation. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he comes back up and makes you open your mouth with his thumb, then spits inside it, telling you to swallow. You do as he says and taste his cum, laughing in disbelief at what he just did - and at how much you liked it. “Fuck,” you giggle.

“Was that too much?” 

“God, no,” you say, and he smiles. You open your arms, gesturing for him to get back on the couch. He rests his head between your breasts, the both of you sighing in contentment as he rubs small circles on your belly and you graze your fingers through his hair. He’s so silent that you think he’s fallen asleep, but he speaks up after a while, voice soft and calm like you’ve never heard before.

“We should go get cleaned up…” he says, and you hum in agreement, “...but it’s so nice here,” he finishes, making you giggle.

“If we get cleaned up quickly now, we can cuddle in bed right afterwards,” you argue.

“You’re right. Infallible logic. You’re so smart, you know that, Y/N?” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I know that,” you joke. “Let’s go,” you say, kissing the top of his head.

You take a shower together, cleaning each other and leaving kisses here and there, or touching in places you shouldn’t touch and that maybe lead to more, right there in the shower. Now that you’ve had a taste, you’re insatiable, and you warn Sunghoon that the both of you are in for a very long night, to which he answers that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once you do fall asleep, (which isn’t until two rounds later, and you’re surprised either of you have this much energy), however, you’re holding each other tightly, the fan on high so that you don’t feel all sticky, being so close to each other. Even if you wake up here and there because he shuffled or he snored too loudly, it’s one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.

—

You wake up the next morning by small giggles and snorts that come from none other than Park Chaeryeong herself, who’s buried herself between you and her dad, shaking her body to wake the two of you. You’re glad that you listened to Sunghoon when he told you to put on a t-shirt of his as well as some underwear so neither you or Chaer would have a fright when she came and woke you up as she liked to do every morning. “You had a sleepover!” she exclaims excitedly when she sees you’ve finally opened your eyes, looking at her with a sleepy expression and a smile.

“We did!” you reply, trying to keep the same level of excitement.

“We did,” Sunghoon repeats, taking his daughter in her arms to hug her tightly and blows a raspberry in her neck to make her laugh.

“You didn’t invite me!” she shrieks when her dad’s left her alone.

“Sorry, sweetheart. It was just me and Y/N.”

“No fun,” she pouts, laying on her back and crossing over arms before turning back to her dad. “So, is Y/N my new mom?” she whispers even though you’re right there. You gasp at her question, making wide eyes at Sunghoon who just snorts, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely asking or if she’s an eight-year-old with an advanced sense of irony.

“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.

“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.”

“Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.

“She is,” you reply, and Chaer turns back to you, giggling. She snuggles close to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and you’re taken aback by the sheer cuteness of it all. You look at Sunghoon with a fake pained expression, and he smiles endearingly at the two of you before sighing and joining you in your hug. He rests his arms around you and his daughter, kissing the top of your heads in turn. 

“My girls,” he mutters in your hair, and you smile peacefully.

There’s a lot of things you have to talk about with Sunghoon. You know your parents - especially your mom - will be okay with the two of you together, but will his parents be? And once semester starts again, what will happen? You’ll have to go back to campus and he’ll have to stay here - will a three-hour drive be a dealbreaker, or will you make it work?

The thing is, there’s no point in thinking about all of this at this moment. You’ve got the whole summer to figure things out. For now, you’ll eat cherries and spit out the pits, and everything will be perfect.

this is a one shot, there will not be a part two!

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)

© asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

[subbypeterparker]

Plssss can u do a hazel x reader Christmas themed fic? I’ve been dying for some holiday spirit hazel and I think she’d be super cute during the holidays ☺️☺️☺️

getting into the spirit

Hazel spins around, admiring every part of your guys’ small shared apartment, as she finishes adding the final touch: strings of lush green (fake) plants around the small stairwell railings.

“what do you think babe? i think we did a pretty good job,” she’s standing with her hands on her hips, huge smile across her lips while she looks at you expectantly.

you’re lying down on a pile of christmas pillows she’s been meaning to put up, but that have just been sitting on your small couch. you have to admit it, your apartment is the cutest right now.

the mistletoe on the doorway to the kitchen, where she’s been so happy to kiss you every morning. the small christmas trees she’s put up on nearly every flat surface, the splashes of green lighting up every room. the lights that twinkle while strung from the walls, whose lights cast comfortable shadows on everything.

then there’s the tree. that adorable christmas tree you bought, when she stood in the lot, admiring all the trees, before finding the perfect one for you both. best of all are the decorations. a million gifts under the tree, and the bright colourful lights hung everywhere, creating a glow that lights up the entire floor.

the ornaments are the cutest, all second hand, and clearly very old and loved. there’s photo ornaments scattered everywhere, with photos of you and Hazel, you as a kid, Hazel as an awkward emo tween, photos of your cat Mochi, everything.

you stand up and walk towards her, wrapping your arms around her waist to pull her in for a kiss. Hazels hands drop to hold your cheeks softly, smiling against your lips.

“honey I think it’s amazing, it looks beautiful,” you’re gushing but how could you not? this is your first christmas while living together. of course she’s going to do it up.

“okay so i have a few plans for tonight and tomorrow morning!” she’s practically jumping up and down, like a child on Christmas.

“lay them on me Hazel,” you peck her nose, egging her on.

“alright so tonight we have to watch a christmas movie. im thinking home alone or elf, you pick! we have to wear the pajamas Isabel got us, the ones with the reindeer, and then tomorrow morning we open gifts with Mochi!”

her eyes are lighting up the more she rambles, and you can’t help yourself from leaning in to hug her, smiling against your neck.

“i’ll go start the movie, you get the snacks,” you hum, pressing a lazy kiss to her neck.

she kisses your cheek, lightly pushing you away from you with a squeeze of your hand before she darts off to the kitchen. you sigh happily, picking up the DVDs. hmmmm, Home Alone or Elf?

she bounds back into the living room a moment later, just as you’re pushing the Elf DVD into the machine, pushing the okay button. you turn around and grin, seeing her snack choice.

“alright let’s see…popcorn, sugar cookies, coke, whipped cream….are we just eating straight whipped cream?” you tilt your head to look at her questioningly.

Hazel shrugs, dumping the giant supply of snack in her hands onto the couch. “i mean, we can always find another way to eat it if you want,” she grins, hands circling your waist, drawing you in closer.

“oh don’t you even mention that, this time i’d actually like to watch the movie we pick,” you laugh, pushing her away from you.

“hey, if you change your mind, let me know,” she’s walking up the stairs laughing, no doubt getting you guys’d pajamas (and maybe thinking of the last time you both got your hands on whipped cream.

you smile to yourself at your girlfriend’s antics, occupying yourself with putting the collection of food she brought onto the coffee table, ready for you both to feast on. she comes back bounding into the room, pajamas in one arm, and Mochi in the other, looking slightly displeased at the matching pajamas Hazel seems to have stuck him in.

“ohh Hazel, he looks miserable,” you laugh. your poor cat looks so grumpy, but you both know he doesn’t mind the clothes, he just hates having his fat manhandled into pjs.

“yeahhhh but he looks so cuddly, plus he’s matching us!” she kisses your lips, softly dripping Mochi onto the couch, where he promptly loafs into a ball on an armrest.

you both change into the pjs, throwing your clothes onto the floor, a problem for tomorrow, and settle onto the couch. Hazels lying on her back, tilted slightly to be a better pillow for you, who has taken to resting your head on her tits, stroking her arm that’s currently drawing small circles in your back. her lips are pressed against your head, laughing along to the movie when you aren’t stuffing your faces full of the cheapest christmas food you could find.

“so, scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate this Christmas?” she mumbles into your hair, laughing at whatever Buddy is up to on screen.

“this is absolutely a 10/10, i can’t imagine a better Christmas,” you smile softly up at you, tearing your eyes away from the movie to stare at her.

“you should wait until next christmas, i promise i’ll make it even better,” she leans down to kiss you deeply, playing with your hair slightly.

“i don’t doubt it Hazel,” you whisper against her lips, the both of you smiling at the the thought of celebrating another Christmas together.

who knows? maybe by next Christmas you guys might both have rings…🤭

—

an: merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, and happy holidays to those that don’t!! I hope everyone is having an an amazing end of the year, and that you’re all happy and healthy and enjoying the holidays!! 🫶🫶🫶

[is-on-its-way]

Bathtub

Post-Fight the Future

A moment in Scully's recovery from Antarctica after being released from a Buenos Aires hospital.

Inspired by this insane "blooper" video. and a tweet asking for a fic about said moment.

There was a soft knock at the door and Mulder said “Scully?” through it. 

“Come in Mulder” she called. 

There was a pause and she yelled out again with a smile “Im not indecent”. She was covered in bubbles after all, he wouldn’t be able to see anything below her shoulders.

He opened the door and slid his face through it apprehensively but when he saw she was covered completely, he relaxed and moved halfway across the frame.

She smiled up at him as she swallowed a retort of “Nothing you haven't seen before”, not wanting to make him needlessly uncomfortable. He had seemed like he’d been held together by a fine thread, under constant threat of loosing what little composure he’d been keeping together for her since she had woken up in the hospital in Buenos Aires. 

They had been in an airy third floor walk up on a street full of colourful buildings, with bare trees lining the cobble stones, since she’d been released from the hospital a couple of days ago. She’d been throughly enjoying wandering around Palermo with him, looking at the old architecture that rivalled DC, listening to live music in the evenings, sitting at a corner cafe sipping wonderful warm coffee, not thinking about work for what felt like the first time in a long while. 

He hadn’t mentioned anything about what had happened yet, letting her take the lead, but she could tell he was itching to. He had so much on his mind and she would have to get the full accounting eventually. But here in this cozy old stone building, in a bathtub from at least 1920, with a weathered door that wouldn’t lock, she felt like she was in a different lifetime. A sanctuary away from the x files and what they would have to return to in Washington in two days. 

“Hey” he said eyes lingering on her face, no chance of impropriety there. She loved him for it.

“Skinner called, he’s glad you’re out of the hospital and he said to call as soon as you can, so…”

“No dilly dallying?”

He smiled at the term and said “Right, I don’t think we should keep him waiting he’s uh… well, annoyed would be a generous interpretation”

She laughed, “Okay, Ill be out in a minute.”

He turned out of the door then back to her “I was going to order some late breakfast, what do you want?”

“You can order in Spanish over the phone?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Well…” He shrugged throwing his hands out. The bottle cap he’d been playing with slipped from his fingers, hit the water, and sank with a tink to the bottom of the tub. 

“Sorry” he said quickly, passing all the way through the threshold and stooping down over the tub. Before she could think to move, he slipped his arm between her legs and was fishing on the bottom of the tub for it. She swallowed the gasp in her throat as his arm brushed her inner thigh and her back straightened imperceptibly in response.

She followed his arm down with her eyes and shifted her legs open so he could reach it, where she could feel it had fallen, under her leg. She looked up at his face, lips parted, in surprise. He seemed truly concentrated on finding the thing. Was he just so comfortable with her now, almost kissing her in hallways, and carrying her half naked across the arctic that this was just what their partnership had evolved into? She wondered what he would do next, imagined what he would do next, hoped at what he would do next. 

“Got it” he said and looked up at her, his hand dripping over the water. Their eyes met and she swallowed as she saw him register the desire she had been too slow to hide. She could see the moment flicker behind his eyes as he realised what he had done. His cheeks burned red as he leaned back, closing his hand around it in a tight fist. “Im sorry Scully, I don’t know what I was thinking doing that.”

She shook her head, setting her face in a casual expression, and ran her tongue over her dry lips. “Thats okay Mulder.” 

They both waited for the other to speak and when neither did, she decided to end his agony. Her mouth spread in a wide smile and then she was giggling. He looked at her and chanced a smile. 

“Mulder” she said sweetly. The water sloshed as she put her hands up in front of her, resting her fingers on the hollow between her clavicles, covering her breasts. She leaned onto the side of the tub, closing the distance he'd put between them. She looked up into his face. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before anyway.” She said it as a comfort, not in jest.

Mulder’s face was flushed but he smiled at her with such gentle affection, she could’ve stood up and thrown her arms around him in a sudsy wet hug. 

Instead she said “Can we go out to that cafe again? I think I need to get the blood flowing with a walk.” Not that that wasn’t already happening right now, but she wanted to be outside, she’d felt slightly suffocated being inside since Antarctica.

“Of course, anything you want, Scully” He said in that stoic tone she loved, as he stood and made his way out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

End. 

@today-in-fic

[bullet-prooflove]

A Good Man - Obispo 'Bishop' Losa x Reader

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @annetje @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @the-wandering-lunatic @alwaysachorusgirl @vannabanana1995 @beardedbarba @multifandomloversworld @camelia35 @queeniesdiary @est1887 @lilvampirina @creativitybeware @genius2050 @gracerosaleigh @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @nessamc @spaghettificationandpretzels @yikes-myguy @corruptedcoffin @nu1freakshow @lyly00 @oureternalbond @rubes2323 @samanthaofanarchy

You used to be a librarian once upon a time, that’s where Bishop remembers you from, Tummy Time at the library on Saturdays. You used to run a couple of groups he attended, you’d orchestrated the Gruffalo Walk, which included kids following the costumed beast around the library into areas decorated with cardboard trees and paper. He remembers standing next to you, his eyes on Aidan and a smile on his face as his little boy toddled after the creature.

It's been eight years since his son died and he still feels the loss as if it happened this morning.

The library has closed since then, the building still stands empty near the centre of town, windows smashed, and graffiti sketched onto the walls of the building. He knows some of the local kids tell each other ghost stories and sneak in there to get high.

“What happened?” he asks as he stands with you inside one of the empty rooms inside the community centre. He has his toolbox with him today, one that he keeps in the closet in the hall.

He’s been coming around ever since that night with Mari, fixing up odds and ends around the place. It keeps his head out of a bottle and helps him put some good back out into the world, he hadn’t realised just how much this town had gone to shit in the past couple of years. Through you he’s learned that outreach services have been cut right back, that the free clinics are buckling under the weight of the need and that the kids in this town are running amok because they have no place to go because their parents are working two or three jobs to put food down on the table.

You’re trying to change all of that just a little at a time.

“What always happens. The funding got cut.” You tell him as you step back to let him work. He’s helping you put up some shelving today. You intend to turn one of the larger rooms into a children’s library, the makeshift one you’ve trialled has proved to be popular and you require more space. You’ve scheduled Lego clubs, Storytimes and parental socialisation groups, because being a parent can be isolating and you believe that talking to other people in similar circumstances saves lives. Infant First Aid is being run by Stitches out of function rooms near the back of the building. You’re transforming this space into a community hub; a place people can feel connected again.

It's a worthy cause but you have to fight to make it happen. He’s been here late at night, plastering a wall while you’ve been drafting funding application after funding application, trying to make shit happen. It’s a relentless task, you’re a hands-on person, you prefer getting involved and being around people, but the paperwork is a necessary evil even if it is relentless.

You’re a tenacious woman, he likes that, he likes you. He likes the shit, you gave someone called Brad from City Council, when he tried to decline your application for Food Bank vouchers for a couple of families you’ve been helping to support. He likes the fact you actually take the time to sit with someone in their moment of crisis and hear them out over a tea or a coffee. He likes the fact you aren’t afraid to get messy, getting down in the dirt with the kids when they’re trying to fish their soccer ball out of a bush, or rolling up your sleeves to wash the dishes after a support group for victims of sexual assault.

He loves the other shit you do; the stuff you think he doesn’t see. He knows you’re helping illegals under the radar, signposting them to charities that can help with their particular predicaments. He knows you go on border runs, helping people who are escaping from the violence in Mexico, preventing them from falling victim to people like Alice Reed and the Reed Coalition, who would rather see them dead. You think it’s your best kept secret but he’s onto you. Your group has approached Riz before today about working the fence on his land, he’s caught a glimpse of you a couple of times whilst he’s been out at Vicki’s.

There’s silence as he works, he’s lost in his thoughts while you’re consulting the plans you’ve drawn up for the new library. He peers over your shoulder at the A4 piece of paper in your hands, a crude mock design you’ve drawn up for one of the walls. It takes him back to that place nine years ago, the library with the forest painted onto the interior, a safe space that kids could go to read books and play.

“One of my guys could probably do that.” He tells you, his hand coming to rest upon your shoulder, his thumb skating over the nape of your neck. You sigh under his touch, the tension ebbing from your shoulders. “Creeper’s a real artist, he works in black and white mainly but his girl, she’s got an eye for colour. The club can donate the paint when you sign off on their work.”

“Obispo, you’ve already done so much...” You tell him as you turn around to face.

He shakes his head vehemently.

“The work you’re doing here, it’s important. If the club can donate a little time and money, trust me we’re happy to do it.”

The look on your face makes his heart ache because there’s such gratitude in your features and it shouldn’t be like that. All of this stuff should be given freely. You shouldn’t have to beg and fight and scrape together all the tiny pieces of that you need to make something like this happen.

“You’re a good man.” You tell him and he laughs because not once in his life has anyone ever accused him of that.

“Yea well…” he smiles as a blush raises to his cheeks. “Let’s keep that our secret.”

Big Fan of Bishop?! Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[ilyvanderwood]

"Goodnight my dear"

Omg- me posting two days in a row ?! No way!! Yea anyways more Welt bc hes on my mind 24/7

Requests - Open~! (Anything as long as it isn't incest and death) Gender Neutral reader !

You tiredly knock on Welts door, after not being able to sleep and deciding to make it yours and your boyfriends problem, before entering. Taking a big breath of the room that smells of him and coffee. You look around before quickly spotting him at his desk working on some papers.

"I can't sleeep" you groan out as you go and lay on his bed, your face landing on his pillow.

"What do you want me to do?" He asks not looking up from his work.

"I don't know..." you respond as you walk over next to him and sit on his lap, snuggling your face in his neck as you hold him close.

"I- dear... please get off i have work i'd like to finish" I responds sighing as he pushes up his glasses. You mumble a quick 'No' as you hold him tighter. Making him realize that your going to be stuck on him like a Koala on a tree. He rubs your back with one hand as he quickly finishes up his work with the other.

"You still awake?" Welt asks as he places down his pen.

"Yes, but im cold." You respond yawning. Welt pets your head before standing up, making sure to hold you while he does so, and lays you down on his bed under his blanket before quickly changing into his pajamas.

You snuggle under the covers as you watch him undress in front of you, looking at his toned chest. He notices as he's about to put a shirt on but decides not to and walks back to the bed and getting under the covers with you.

He places his glasses to the side as he takes and holds you close to his chest. You feel his heartbeat and it makes you feel safe as you fall asleep to the rhythm.

"Night babe..." you respond as you fall asleep in his arms.

"Goodnight my Dear"

[kyber-crystal]

MURY CHUMES‼️

in honour of christmas 2023,could u makefestive/holiday obiwan hcs bc hes so silly and i know he'd "deck the halls" (im so funny) (im not)

obi is the type of guy who would cuddle w you by the fireplace n drink hot tea or hot chocolate <3 (and he'd spoil you to death my goodness!) (also sorry if this is wasnt what u meant i didnt know what u meant by send asks HSJSHSJ)

OMG HI THIS IS SO PERFECT I NEED THIS SO BAD so thank you for sending this in <3 ur my new fav person

&& MERRY CHRYSLER :) consider this my gift to you!

"i don't get why we had to be sent away DURING the holiday season. the council couldn't have waited?"

you grumbled some variation of this under your breath for several minutes straight while preparing the flight out to dantooine

and obi agrees

the two of you are being sent on a long-term operative mission. there's no daily wars or hard combat to face—it was more of a stakeout of sorts—but still, you had to stay alert. just in case

you were mainly upset at the fact that you couldn't relax in your quarters or with your family for the holidays

obi-wan, sensing your blues, decides that he's not going to let that ruin the festivities

you're staying in a quaint little home for the next few weeks. it's plainly, but relatively tidy

"there's a life day market in town! we can pick some food up there, and decorations, if you're up for it" obi had suggested, so that's what you end up doing

while at the market, which is bustling with people from all over the galaxy (you later find out that dantooine's life day market is one of the biggest there is), the two of you are mistaken for a married couple

but hey, the status gets you several discounts on fresh fruit

even after you leave the produce booth, he keeps his hand interlocked with yours

(and you like it. though you'd die before admitting it lol)

you haul several giant bags and baskets of supplies back to your place

(correction, obi-wan does most of the heavy lifting. you're only carrying the tree decorations so you look like a tangled bundle of color that has no start or end)

it takes you everything you have not to stare at how his arms flex when he moves things

you didn't realize obi had a creative side to himself, so when you let him take charge of decorating, you didn't know what to expect

but once the two of you finish decorating you're pretty amazed

the tree glitters with woven string lights and ornaments that look like stars plucked straight from the heavens, shining in hues of rose gold and ivory white

"it's so beautiful," you exhaled

"indeed, it is," obi-wan replied, but he wasn't even looking at the light fixtures (he was looking at you instead)

you're about to unpack the groceries and start cooking but he stops you in your tracks, placing his hands on your shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze

"let me handle this, darling. i insist," he says—and you can feel your face growing warm at the term of endearment

so you sit down by the fireplace with a blanket around your shoulders and watch as he carefully cuts up the starfruit and places it in a porcelain bowl, dices the meat and vegetables, and pours hot chocolate (you made a mental note to ask him later which booth that was from) into two mugs

for a moment you get completely lost in the idea of living a peaceful, domestic life with him. one where you wake up every morning to the fresh smell of coffee and berries and are greeted with a tight embrace

but you're brought back to reality with the reminder that technically, you're on a mission right now, and you're both jedi

so no amount of wishing and praying will make any bit of that domestic life come true

:(

"you've been so quiet," he suddenly speaks up

"just...tired," you reply, and it's the truth. the entire flight over, you didn't sleep a wink—you always had trouble falling asleep

he decides not to question you further—he knows what's bothering you; he always does

dinner is amazing as always—you're good at cooking, too, but your skills pale in comparison to what obi has

after you eat, you sit down by the fireplace, wrapped up in several thick blankets with steaming hot chocolate in hand

"how long has it been since you last saw your family?" he asks

"seven years," you say. "we write letters to each other, but you know, given my schedule, it's hard to pay them a visit. i hardly see them anymore..."

"i can be your family, then," he offers with a sad smile

and you feel your heartbeat pick up speed just a little

not because you're secretly in love with him...of course not lmao

but because he's always been here for you and continues to be

you lean against him and close your eyes and just. take him in

like. how does this man smell so good...

it's as if he bathed in every warm and comforting scent you could think of

and you can almost pretend that you're right back home in the arms of the one you love, and not millions of miles away on a foreign moon

(jokes on you, he is your new home)

you're not sure how long you stay cuddled up like that for, but you wouldn't mind if it lasted for the entirety of your mission

"you know i love you," he says quietly after he thinks you've fallen asleep, and he gently kisses your forehead

but you manage to whisper back an "i love you too" before drifting off

obi-wan finally feels at peace

& so do you

(i'm so sorry if this wasn't what you expected hiusahfiuherguheg but hopefully it makes you feel all warm & cozy inside!! hehe merry christmas)

tags (this list hasn't been updated in a while so apologies if it seems off...lol): @voguesir @fl0ating @lady-elena-adeline @katelynnwrites @freeshavocadoooo @buckysbeloved @kelieah @kaleidoscope1967eyes @lam-ila @amelia-song-pond @unstablecaffeinatedmind @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @arkofblake @hellotherekenobi

[itsagrimm]

Hinterland

König X she/her OC

After a battle, König struggles with getting to safety, wondering how he got here and if he will ever make it home.

This taps into where König comes from and why König is part of the military.

CN: angst, mentions of injury and blood, mentions of death, mentions of nausea & vomit, warzone descriptions, sexual assault, queerphobia and transphobia, this whole thing is steeped in patriarchal themes and violence, violence against women* in warzones, themes of sexual assault and extreme stress situations, hunger and starvation, mentions of rape, bullying, failing in school due to untreated neurodiversity, bad parenting, teen romance and teen romance emotions, untreated mental health issues, i guess i am giving König both Autism and ADHD, getting dead named, mentions of needles and medical procedures, medical inaccuracies (I have researched too much for this already don't expect me to correctly describe a medical facility too)

has kind of a happy end, kind of not.

5,8 k words

beta read by @musigrusi thank you so much 💕

Notes for cultural context:

The name Hannes is a German boys name.

Amalia is named after the Prussian princess Anna Amalie who was known to be an independent woman, a musician and generally well educated. She stayed unmarried her whole life and was a close confidant to her brother king Friedrich II. Her baroque organ is still in use in the church “Zur Frohen Botschaft” in Karlshorst, Berlin. Should you have the chance, check it out, it's beautiful and they play free concerts regularly. Also, Since Prussia under Friedrich II waged war against Austria, the name Amalia low-key mark her as foreign in Austria.

The Perseiden are a yearly meteoric shower visible in the summer months.

The sweat never stopped being a nuisance, dripping into his eyes and down his back. König grimaced under his hood, trying to ignore the thirst in his throat and heat under his armor, and dragged on.

Every time he left a battle, he forgot how punishing physical discomfort was and how harshly it gnawed at his body no matter how much he trained.

Every time he told himself it was the last time that he would go out to kill and get killed in a thousand little ways.

Every time he forgot and returned anyway.

Might have overdone it this time.

He looked down.

The bandage on his leg started to bleed through. And he still had a long way back to base.

It had been his usual employment with his usual rates, enough to buy a house or run a little shop back home. Maybe a bookstore or café where they could sell overpriced coffee to the tourists and have a well curated book selection for the locals.

She would like that.

König banished his thoughts and concentrated on the here and now as he limped on. He was out in the open. Any sniper, hell, anyone with a decent aim and a rock could turn into a problem for him now. He was an easy target and in need of cover, rest, and a pick-up.

Quickly, he scanned his environment. It was a stony valley he had seen a thousand times. No water or settlements in sight. Patches of dried-out greenery littered the barren landscape here and there. Further up, he spotted a couple of boulders ideal for cover from anyone passing through the valley.

It would do.

He moved carefully not to hurt his leg even more and climbed up the stones with practiced ease before sitting down and turning on the radio to call for help.

Static.

No answer.

He tried again.

Static.

-

Hannah was always the tallest girl in class, sitting at the back of the room while the teacher babbled on about history and war and peace and war and peace again. She looked outside. Spring had started and the nearby trees turned greener by the day, calling to her to-

“Hannah! Die Tafel ist vorne, nicht draußen im Wald!”

She turned back. Her teacher shook her head disapprovingly at Hannah for the interruption, before continuing with the wars. To show her eagerness and to appease her teacher, Hannah grabbed one of her pens and tried taking notes.

1809.

Napoleon had made it here and laid siege to Vienna like the Osman’s before him. At least they had bought the coffee to Austria. Napoleon on the other hand got Hannah only  into a particularly boring history class. Little cups of coffee started to litter the side of her history notes. A small graphite-coloured Napoleon trying to grab a cup with his tiny hands half-finished as the teacher slammed down the ruler onto Hannah’s papers and interrupted her art.

“Hannah! Aufpassen!”

-

König woke up from the cold. The sweat had soaked his shirt and even his heavy armor and layers of tech wear couldn’t keep him warm in the early hours of the day. He looked up into the sky to get some clue where he was only to see clouds hiding any chance of him navigating this way. He needed help.

If he couldn’t get someone to pick him up, he was massively fucked.

Click.

Static.

He spoke into the Radio. No answer.

Click.

Static.

Click.

Static.

Click.

Would someone even tell her where he had died?

He shivered and started to rub his body to get himself warm again.

-

“Na, Lange, wie ist das Wetter da oben?”

Hannah rolled her eyes.

“Halt’s Maul.”, she dismissed and kept walking as the boys and girls snickered and giggled behind her in the hallway of the school. Her long stride took her quickly out of earshot from them.

“Sorry, are you alright?”

She stopped in her tracks.

A girl Hannah hadn’t seen before, eyed her with shy concern.

“I saw how the others treat you. I didn’t understand. I speak only ein bisschen Deutsch.”, she smiled shyly, “But they looked mean. So, I thought I’ll ask.”

“It’s okay. I am fine.”, Hannah quickly dismissed, hating her own clumsy accent and her shaky voice. She sounded exactly like her father when he tried to explain some lost hikers the way back to the town, overwhelmed and nervous.

They stared at each other, Hannah feeling the awkward silence creeping up her neck as the pretty girl fluttered her lashes at her expectantly.

“Thanks for asking.”, Hannah added in an attempt to break the uncomfortable quiet between them.

“It was nothing. What’s your name?”

“Hannah. I’m in class 10-b. What is yours?”

“Amalia. I’m in 10-a.”

“Nice to meet you, Amalia.”

Another weird pause in which Amalia waited for Hannah to say something.

Oh Gott.

“Would you like to have lunch together, Hannah? It’s lunchbreak and I don’t know where the cafeteria is yet.”

Hannah smiled.

Showing the new girl around. And she was nice.

“Sure.”

-

The pebbles under his feet made his walk harder and König kept stumbling while he pushed himself further down the valley and into what must be north towards the US base. Back home he had a map with a pin for every base he had visited. There were a lot of pins over their sofa in that map, and sometimes she teased him about pins possibly falling down into the cushions of their sofa and pricking them into the ass.

He smiled at the thought of her little delightful ass.

Sometimes she lamented different things - like him going to add more pins.

Might not make it back and add a pin this time.

-

Amalia was from the US. Her father had worked for the military in Ramstein where her mother was from. They had lived in a couple of places around the world, always on the move following her father’s station until her mother had enough and they ended up in Austria because of some distant relative and a job. It was like that sometimes.

Hannah did not care about the whys and ifs.

She only cared about Amalia being here now.

“I am so envious!” Amalia called out as they walked through the town from school, “you always lived in a beautiful place like this.”

Hannah snorted.

“You think it’s pretty? It’s mostly just boring. Nothing ever changes.”

Amalia took Hannah’s hand and pressed it with unbroken excitement.

“You are just feeling like nothing changes but I bet, there have been plenty of changes.”

Hannah looked down at Amalia’s hand in hers. It felt good.

“This town is a few centuries old”, she said, “The house my family lives in has been in the family for over 200 years now. And even back then we were known as the tallest from around here, so it’s built higher.”

“That’s so cool.”

“That’s so repetitive. It’s like living my ancestors’ lives without ever breaking away from their paths. The furthest I ever got was Munich for a school trip. Even my name is from a great-grandmother and a family tradition. You on the other hand-“

“I have been to military bases”, Amalia protested and interlaced her fingers with Hannah’s while dragging her onwards, “Honestly, they are all the same wherever you go. I’d rather be here instead of looking at ugly barracks, guns, and buff dudes with tattoos and too much testosterone.”

Hannah grinned.

“Are buff dudes not your liking?”, she teased.

Amalia giggled.

“Some are okay to look at.”

-

After a day of walking, he made it to a settlement. Waiting for the twilight to give him cover he rested behind some boulders and observed the handful of buildings. It was a simple farmhouse surrounded by with a few sheds, huts and a well. He heard voices speaking a language he did not understand, an older man was sitting in front of the house resting and looking after a little kid playing on the ground. The elder spoke tenderly to the child and the child answered sweetly, sometimes with laughter and sometimes with the unmistakable higher pitch of a curious question. A woman worked the farm, running around and finishing the days business. She looked tired, thin, and worn out.

No Fighters. No younger men.

Briefly, very briefly, König considered leaving. Disrupting this family’s warzone lifes with more warzone stench, made him uneasy.

Killing during a battle was simple. This was not.

But he needed bandages, food, and water.

His battered body and mind made the decision for him. Hunger brings out the worst out of men. Hunger and the hope of getting back home. He reached for his rifle.

-

The halls in Amalia’s house were littered with pictures of her family. Smiling children, dutiful wives, stern looking men in uniform. Was this how family is supposed to be? Hannah didn’t know, barely daring to call her own home a family.

Amalia was easy to recognize in several of the pictures, she had that shy pretty smile with the excited glint in her eyes since she was a child.

“Who is that?”, Hannah asked, pointing at one of the men in uniform.

“Oh, that’s my cousin. He is a marine.”

Hannah nodded. Marine sounded important. Militaristic. Far away from little town Austria.

-

After the family retreated into the farmhouse König crept closer. With his rifle ready he sneaked to the well for water, quickly refilling his canteen and quenching his thirst as silently as possible before moving past the little shed with some hens and through a simple garden, with plants fighting to stay alive in the midday heat, before reaching the door. A little bell was next to the door. He reached for it and stilled.

He was a soldier. He knew he was a terrifying sight with his hood and his height and most importantly - his rifle. Should he really do this?

Before he could decide, the door opened, and the woman cried out in fear and surprise.

Trained instinct took over and he aimed his rifle, moving himself into the house and pushing the woman back while checking the room for targets.

It was a kitchen. The old man was sitting at the table leaning before the child to shield it while staring up at this giant intruder with the hood and the rifle, staring up at König in fear. The child whimpered and the woman talked and cried as she got up from where König had pushed her.

“Quiet!”, he roared, and they all stilled.

Another check for enemies, he did not expect to find but the practice was too ingrain in him not to.

“Quiet”, he repeated breathlessly.

-

Schnipp. Schnapp. Ab.

Mother had disapproved of Hannah cutting her hair, sending her to her room without dinner while her father just shook his head disapprovingly.

“Du siehst aus wie ein Junge. Furchtbar.“

Hannah just stood up from the family table and left, thinking to herself that looking like a boy was not the worst thing she could be.

Climbing up the stairs in the old farmhouse, skipping the one that creaked loud like an old pine tree during a heavy storm, she thought about mothers’ words.

Cutting off her hair had been an unexplainable need. It was so quick. She barely registered how it cut free from the weight of those blond plaits of hair. Carefully, she reached up and touched her head, her fingers gliding easily through her soft short strands now. Like a boys.

-

“Quiet.”, he repeated in his normal speaking voice, his eyes darting around the room and trying to see the woman, the elder and the toddler at the same time while gripped his rifle to keep his hands from shaking.

“Do you understand me? Verstehen Sie mich? Me comprenez-vous?”, he tried thinking of any other way to communicate, he wasn’t even sure in which country he was right now. Every warzone looked the same after a while.

“Yes.”

It was the woman.

“Yes, I speak American. I speak English”, she continued, “Leave son alone. Leave father alone. Please.”

Nausea swept through him, and he felt the sour taste of vomit rise in his throat. The sound of the woman begging him hit him harder than a kick in the stomach.

“Please, please!”, she continued leaning towards him, “You want me! Take me! Leave son alone! Leave father alone!”

“No!”, he tried to calm her and himself, “I don’t want to harm you. Or your family. No danger. No harm. See!”

He lowered the rifle while lifting one of his hands to show his intends.

“See!”

She started tearing at her dress. “Take me! Leave son alone! Leave father alone!”

König stilled, mortified at the sight of the woman in undress and begging for him to not harm her family.

He swayed back.

“No! Don’t!”, König tried to stop her from undressing further, fighting his own battle training to keep focus on everyone in the room while avoiding seeing the woman’s bare body.

I shouldn’t be here. I should be home.

It was too much. The disgust in his stomach flared up sharply, and he hated himself for coming to this house, this country, this continent – for disrupting a family’s dinner and terrifying a woman so much that she was willing to offer herself to a random soldier just to save her family.

He tore off his glove and lifted his hand.

“NO! Don’t worry! See-“, he wiggled with his fingers in a macabre comedic way to show the ring he wore, “I am not going to rape you. I am not going to kill your family. I just need help to get home. To my wife.”

-

Hannah had climbed out of the window again. It became a habit of leaving late at night to stroll through the forest before navigating her way to Amalia’s house. And it was better than feeling locked up in her childhood bedroom again.

With practised ease Hannah climbed over the fence and checked for light in Amalia’s window before throwing a pebble against it.

“It’s late!”, Hannah whispered as silently as possible while also trying to be as audible as possible for Amalia.

“Yeah, and you are marauding around. Shouldn’t you at least try to sleep before school?”, Amalia shot back from upstairs.

Hannah shrugged.

“I will be a farmer no matter if I pay attention in school or not. Why are you up this time?”

Amalia giggled.

“Studying. I want to go to university. I need good marks. And my German is still shit.”

“Oh.”

Amalia would leave one day, for a different life. Away from the pretty town in the countryside that was so stuck in time.

“Hey.”

Amalia sounded different, nervous.

“Hannah, uh…”, She leaned down closer, “Can I kiss you?”

The words struck Hannah like lightning. In Hannah’s mind it felt like an impossibility for her to kiss a girl, to kiss Amalia with her nice smile and her kind teases and her soft hand holding Hannah’s and the way words rolled off her lips and-

“Yes.”

Who cares about possibilities.

-

König stumbled outside and puked right next to the entrance, retching what felt like his guts onto the stony ground.

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here at all. No soldier should.

After his stomach was empty, he heaved heavily for air before standing up again and wiping his mouth with the gloved hand.

Scheiße.

“Man?”

He turned around. It was the woman, peaking fearfully through the door at him, holding her dress together with her hands.

“Sorry”, König gesticulated at the puddle of puke.

“Ok.”, she just replied flatly as if anything was ok.

He cleared his throat.

“I am sorry.”, König repeated,” I just need a new bandage, some direction and maybe some food. I will leave right after.”

“Ok.”

She repeated and closed the door, leaving him to wait outside.

He couldn’t blame her. To calm himself he started checking his rifle out of habit, while monitoring the dark garden and surrounding valley.

Could he trust her? Was she just getting her weapon to shoot him out of fear? Or rat him out to whoever was in charge in this area?

It’s not like he had a choice. The wound on his leg throbbed, he was lost and out of rations.

Nervously he drummed against the rifle, eyeing every shadow with suspicion.

After a few minutes the door opened again, and the woman stepped outside. She had a jacket on now, a couple of acidic smelling rags in her arms as well as some kind of bread. With as much distance as possible she passed the things he had asked for to König and he took them with a nod.

“Thank you.”, he mumbled.

“Directions. Yes?”, she asked coldly, ignoring his words.

“Yes.”

“You go there.”, she waved into the direction König had assumed the next US military base.

He nodded again.

She looked at him, before turning around and stepping to the door.

“Leave.”

He heard the door getting looked and a chair dragged in front of it after she closed it behind her.#

-

“Zieh dich an, Hannah! So kannst du nicht zur Feier.”, the mother ordered.

Hannah just looked at her and the dress she was holding.

“Nein.”

“Hannah!”

It was Sunday. A cousin was getting married. With the church and the whole family and flower girls and a white dress.

But not with Hannah in a dress.

“Wenn du dich nicht fertig machst, kannst du auch nicht mitkommen.”

“Okay.”

It was a clear calculation: no dress, no piece of the wedding cake, no Hannah in the family pictures.

She could live with that. If she had to wear a dress, she wouldn’t go.

Silently she got up and left her parents to go to her bedroom - her mother still staring at her disapprovingly and her father mildly uninterested in his wife’s attempts to raise his daughter.

It was sunny outside, beautiful. She didn’t even wait for her parents to leave before climbing out of the window and sneaking away.

The forest was humming with life as Hannah walked through it before making her way to Amalia’s house.

Amalia was sitting in the summer sun in the garden and studying. As always.

“You know, we have a gate in the fence if you feel like not showing off how tall you are, Hannah.”, Amalia greeted with a smile.

“I’m not showing off. It’s my natural grace to jump fences like a gazelle”, Hannah shot back, before kissing Amalia and taking a seat at the table on the garden veranda.

“More like a giraffe with your long legs”, Amalia scoffed.

“Either way, do you want to go for a hike today? It’s nice in the forest.”

“You should become a ranger like my uncle or a soldier like my marine-cousin with your never ending need to be in the forest and on the move. You would be the queen of the mountains! The most feral one out there”, Amalia stated and shook her head, “I can’t! I need to study.”

Hannah chuckled while getting up again, “Alright, have fun studying.”

“Wait!”, Amalia called.

Hannah turned back while Amalia reached over the table to kiss her.

“Be safe out there.”

-

The bread felt like the best thing König had eaten in weeks. With his stomach emptied and the sour taste of acid on his tongue it felt like a piece of heaven in his mouth. He knew it would only keep him satisfied for a short time. But it would give him strength to get himself to the base.

Next, he looked at his injury. Hidden between two boulders a click away from the house he sat down and took out his emergency light. Turning it on the lowest setting he quickly checked his wound. It was deep and due to the lack of fresh bandages and only his minimal first aid so far, slightly infected. Grimacing from the pain he started putting the rags onto the open flesh. It wasn’t ideal but the acid would keep the bacteria at bay while the rags protected the wound from dirt getting into it.

At least he hoped so.

Tired, so, so tired he reached for the radio and turned it on.

Click.

Static.

“Hello?”

No answer but static silence.

Click.

-

They were laying on the grass staring into the summer night, holding hands, and watching as the Perseids flared up and gifted them one shooting star after another.

“Hannah.”

“Hm?”

“I’m cold.”

Wordlessly Hannah moved closer and embraced Amalia with her taller, bigger frame, steeled from working her father’s farm, rubbing her sides to warm her up.

She giggled and kissed Hannah, “Thanks.”

The grass they lay on was green and starting to get wet from the morning dew as the milky way glanced beautiful and disinterested down at them.

Soon they would have to leave, part. With Amalia returning home and walking to the front door of her family’s neat little house. And Hannah climbing back up through the window of the old farmhouse.

Hannah sighed, nervously making a fist, and relaxing again to calm her nerves.

“Can I be your girlfriend?”, Amalia asked into the silence before Hannah had even started to search for the right words.

“Yes! I-“

Hannah paused, not sure why.

“Hannah, love, what is it? Did I say something wrong?”

Amalia sat up and looked down in concern to Hannah.

“No, I-“, Hannah closed her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing, “Can you stop calling me Hannah?”

Amalia paused. “Okay. How else am I supposed to call you?”

The other girl let her shoulders sink and dropped her head. “I don’t know. I keep getting told I am a boy-ish. That a Hannah would be different than who I am. And I know it’s mean. But I don’t think they are wrong.”

Amalia’s fingers were cold as she reached out and touched the other one’s shoulder, rubbing little soothing circles before scooting closer and turning it into a full embrace.

“If Hannah does not work for you, let’s try out other names, okay?”

Nodd.

“I am not very creative and maybe I don’t understand you correctly. How do you feel about ‘Hannes’?”

Nodd. A choked sob came out of Hannes as he leaned into the embrace, feeling many things as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Let’s try it out then, Hannes.”, Amalia whispered and hummed, slowly rocking him in her arms until his sobs stopped.

He stayed anyway, her arms around him feeling like the strongest thing in the world holding him under the stars covered summer sky until he felt Amalia shiver.

“You are getting cold. I am sorry for keeping you here.”

“Don’t be. I have a boyfriend who will give me his jacket and rubs my arms to warm me up now, you know.”

A surprised laughter escaped him as he took off his jacket for her.

“Yes, you have.”

-

The sun rose mercilessly into the sky over König, turning his world from shivering darkness into blazing clarity about his situation. Weakly, he lifted his head, took a few sips from his canteen, and summoned his strength to grab the radio.

Click.

Static, the eternal static that never bothered to answer him.

He asked anyway: “Hello, anybody out there?”

Static.

He was about to turn it off again as finally, after days of dragging himself through the dust and stone, an answer.

“This is Claris Airfield speaking. Claris Airfield speaking. Please identify yourself.”

-

Another night, another sneaking out of the window, another walk through the forest.

For the first time in a long while Hannes walked the familiar paths with light feet.

It felt right, the road felt right, he felt right as he hiked the short road down the mountain to Amalia’s house.

The window to her room was open and Hannes climbed up to her room with practised ease, knocking at the glass to alert her to his presence.

“Hannes!”, she greeted him from her bed while putting down one the current of many books she read.

Peeking into her room he smiled and asked, “Can I come in? I couldn’t sleep and I missed you.”

She nodded and waved him inside, making space for him on the bed.

He sat down next to her and pointed at the book.

“What are you reading tonight?”

“A guid handbook for kids from military families about studying. My father insisted on me reading it.”

“Why? I am sure the Universities in Vienna, Graz or Salzburg will be more than happy to have you. Munich or Brünn are not too far away either. There is no need to go back to the US for University.”, Hannes shifted closer to Amalia, putting an arm around her.

She leaned against him, fumbling nervously with the book.

“My Dad…”, she started carefully, “He wants me to study back home in the US. He became strange since the divorce with mum.”

“How so?”

“He…”, she paused, “He became strict, mean. He has many rules and expectations, more than ever. When I mentioned that I had a boyfriend he started questioning me.”

“Isn’t that what dads do?”

“I don’t know. Oh, I don’t know, Hannes. It was strange. I wanted him to stop so I agreed to take a look at universities away from here.”

She pressed into his side, taking his other free hand and interlacing her fingers with his.

”Hannes, I don’t want to leave. But I might have too. Dad … he is the one who can finance my schooling, mum can’t.”

He closed his eyes, thinking about how he felt when Amalia was gone, how he had felt before he had even met her. The solution was as clear and simple as the night sky. If she had to go, he would follow.

“I will always find a way to you, should you want me to, Amalia. Don’t worry.”

-

The Heli circled over the valley. König tried to get up but felt too weak from the loss of blood after hours of working the radio and slowly bleeding out. A medic had made his way up to him, telling König he got lucky while he worked on his leg. Another medic argued with the pilot of the helicopter how to best move König up.

“Yo, big guy!”, he shouted over the noise from the heli above them, “You need to get up and secure yourself. We lost our stretcher during that last shitshow of a  battle.”

Oida.

König groaned and worked himself into a standing position, half leaning against the stone and half getting dragged up by the medic at his side.

“Oh wow, you really are big. What did they feed you as a kid?”

Luft und Liebe.

He kept his mouth shut and concentrated on the ropes before him while the silent medic at his side helped him secure himself as his colleague babbled on.

“For real, the ladies must love you back home.”

“Oh, shut up”, his helper snapped. Must be new, “You think our guy wants to hear you point out something he has heard a thousand times before while bleeding like a pig?”

“I’m just making small talk.”

“Good luck small-talking with a German.”

“I am Austrian.”, König grunted, surprised by his own lucidity and insistence.

The medics stared at him.

“Isn’t that the same as German?”, the blabbermouth asked.

König groaned, unsure if from pain or annoyance.

-

Amalia had left for the US, just days ago but it like years to him. It was getting cold outside, winter creeping up over the mountains and with it snow, and wind, and darkness.

The familiar forest paths were bare and lonely to wander on. Hannes kept walking there to keep the habit, to not forget the feeling of just strolling down the forest and then seeing Amalia.

His Amalia.

She had given him her phone, saying she would just tell her parents she lost hers so that they could stay in contact. They had talked yesterday. Her voice was a bare whisper as she quietly told him of her journey, describing him all the things he hadn’t seen while trying to not alert her father.

He hadn’t approved. Of course, Amalia’s father hadn’t approved of Hannes. He was just some guy from the middle of nowhere Austria. Amalia had cried after that, telling Hannes only bits of what her father had said about Hannes, apologizing repeatedly and leaving out the most horrendous parts.

Still, he knew.

Hannes had grown up in a little town with his classmates’ pointing fingers at him for his unusual height for a girl, with neighbours raising their eyebrows at the sight of him roaming the forest and fields with town skirts and unkept hair, with his parents becoming bitter and uninterested in him for not behaving like they wanted a daughter to behave.

Of course, Hannes knew that her father called him Hannah and a girl, disapproving of their relationship no matter what Amalia said.

He used to be angry and hurt about it, but the feeling ebbed since what felt like about the same eons since Amalia left.

Now he had better things to do than fighting for the approval of people he only cared little about and who would never change their ways no matter what he did or who he would become.

Fickt euch alle, he thought to himself as he walked down the creaking stairs into the kitchen.

He needed to get out of this town, fast.

And he had to find a way back to Amalia. Hannes knew of a way, thinking of all those men in uniform back in Amalia’s house, her cousins, her uncles, her father - thinking of the power and dignity - and most importantly money - they got for traveling to far away places, wearing uniforms and carring guns. It was nearly funny that the man who disapproved so clearly of Hannes, showed him the easiest way back to his daughter.

“Mama”, he asked while stepping into the room, “Ich brauche deine Hilfe. Kannst du das unterschreiben?”

The mother turned around from the stove, moving what she had worked on to the side, before sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Was ist das?”, she asked, “Wieder schlechte Noten in der Schule?”

He shook his head. No, this wasn’t about school.

“Ich will gehen, Mama. Weg von hier. Ich muss.”

She starred at him, blinking a few times before smiling softly like all parents do when gently but firmly hurting their children with words.

“Hannah.”

He shivered, hating every syllable, and passing his mother a pen instead. He needed her signature to leave. Nothing else.

“Hannah, du kannst nicht weg. Wer soll sonst den Hof machen?”

“Wenn ich bleibe, bin ich lebendig begraben. Gib mir eine Chance zu leben. Lass mich gehen.”

She starred at him, tears coming to her eyes as she reached over the table for the son, she did not know she had.

“Mama! Bitte.”, Hannes said to break the painful silence and pushing aside all those emotions raising their heads like snakes inside him, passing her the enlist document for the Bundesheer instead. He needed this to be done or he might break under his mothers sad gaze.

She starred at him, shaken, and breaking before him, finally putting down the pen to sign his freedom.

-

König woke up laying on one of the field beds most lazarettos used. His head felt painfully heavy and like it was about to drop through the bed onto the floor. He groaned.

“Konik”, a medic greeted him, walking closer.

He groaned again, not sure if from the oh too familiar mix of pain and annoyance about having his callname so massively butchered or just the pain.

“Konik, glad to have you back. How are you feeling?”

“Scheiße.”, he mumbled, deciding to not argue with someone yielding needles which could aleviate his pains.

The Medic chuckled and started fumbling with an IV bag currently slowly dripping into his body via a catheter in his arm, “I’m adjusting your pain medication. You are a big fella and need a bit more than usual. But don’t worry, we will have you back up in no time.”

He grunted an acknowledgment, too tired to talk much more.

“Ah Mr. Konig-“, the medic called as the medication started to take him out again, “I was told you are getting a nice ride home after this. A littl’ vacation waiting for you so better get well soon and don’t let those at home wait longer than necessary.”

Home, he was getting home.

Finally.

-

Vienna main station was as unpleasant as every station, a busy place where people ran around to get to their train or forcefully stood still until it was their time to catch the right connection.

Better than Frankfurt am Main or Berlin. Fürchterlich. Ugh.

Vienna generally had a different pace, better suited for Königs still recovering leg.

Venerable and pleasant.

He had learned to love that once he left Austria for the first time. Leisurely, he strolled out of the building, careful to not knock somebody over with his duffel back, and got on the right tram home.

Outside of the rolling tram the houses stared down at him through the window with familiar fronts. König wondered when exactly he had become so accustomed to the sights: A castle here, a Gemeindebau there, cafés and parks he had visited - after all, he had not grown up in Vienna, barely stayed here for longer than a few months at a time, and only moved to the city after getting married - continuing to leave when the need to move became too unbearable to be quenched with runs in the Prater or when running into someone back from the old town and getting called 'Hannah' again.

Vienna had become a sanctuary so fast.

So normal, he could only stand it for short times.

Stepping out of the tram at his stop he decided to make a quick detour for some flowers before finally making the way to the apartment.

Not looking at the names on the bell signs of the house he pressed ‘Kaiser’, their shared family name for years now.

With a quick buzz the entrance to the hallway opened and he stepped into the pretty tilted hall and up the flight of stairs.

He made it half the way up before she bolted down and into his arms, nearly knocking him over and down the stairs again, hadn't he sacrificed the now crushed flowers and grabbed the railing.

“Hannes!”, Amalia cried out as she pressed herself into him, “You're back.”

He embraced her tightly, enjoying the feeling of her in his arms.

“Yes, Amalia, I’m back.”

For now.

-

something something protect transkids, warzones are full of people CoD conveniently hardly engages with, women* are the first targets in war, neurodiversity has little to no space in our ableist societies unless it can be exploited, the military is shit and preys on those in need, patriarchy needs to go, going to war means not returning as the same person you left as, did i miss something or do you feel like i could have improved some points feel free to send me a message something something criticism is essential to improve

[birdsofhands]

03/16/2024

it's a sunday morning. i know that there's a really huge gap from my last entry and for that i hope it's okay. i hope you understand.

today, at around 12pm, i am sitting at my desktop computer writing about what seemed like an epiphany: i am alive in a perfect day, as if it's already a memory. no. the day was so beautiful and perfect that i knew i would wish to go back to it many years after. i'm quite ashamed to write right now but i figured i had to. [i was reading murakami and his writing was so beautiful it puts me to shame, he's a weirdo, too]

i was rereading one of my favorite books: kafka on the shore. i am on page 308. i'm sitting on this monoblock chair under the now, still small, but provides ample shade tree, a round table beside me with my perfectly made iced coffee. a pen and some tabs to annotate my book. it was a perfect slow morning. there's a faint sound of a lyre being played from the neighbors, the air through which it travels in is laced with the sweet smell of sugar being melted, a reminder that my mother is at the kitchen, making leche flans, her favorite dessert to make. and suddenly i had this strange thought [ it's not really strange to me now since ever since i was a kid, i've always become stupidly miserable over the subject of time and how it passes so quickly and how we're all victims of it no matter who and where we are. no body escapes the claws of time. perhaps the book i was reading also influenced and heightened this feeling. anyways. im straying away again. what i wanted to say is that, at one instant, like flashing lights blinded me, i thought about this moment, this wonderful fleeting and impactful moment of my life, and an image occurred to me: it was me, old and aging, wise through time and hardships, hopefully happy and content and lived a full life in spite of myself, remembering this moment. and how much i would want to go back to this certain place. this certain time, which in that moment doesn't exist anymore.

and so, i used this as leverage, as a gift to my future self, the old wrinkled me. i went back in time. i pictured myself going back in time, i am an old woman, this moment has gone and faded in the core memories of my life but it's there glowing like daylight of the dawn of my life. and i look at the yellow glazed surroundings. i remember thinking, and here is our old house, this small tree, this round table, this steel matting gate of the neighbors, this kubo, and my mother is still alive. she's cooking in the kitchen, the sweet smell of sugar melting engulfs the air. it's a simple sunday morning, sounds of digs and birds and chickens all around. and beyond that the faint rustle of the leaves swaying with a sound of a lyre playing. under the kubo is loki, gray eyed grumpy lovely fat cat that i adored so much. AND I'M HERE AGAIN. i am back. i made myself go back in time. i let my self experience it again. i went inside the house and helped my mother a little. inside the house was our house. in 2024. the sweet smell heightened as i go back. i stepped inside the newly cleaned white tiled floors and remembered i was still wearing my crocs. i took a step back. my sister was standing at the steps looking at me as if judging my stupid ministrations, as if trying to figure out what im on about again. she's fixing her face. her boyfriend will come. i walked inside with my feet kissing the smooth cold tiles. my grandmother was there too. it's been a while. the kitchen was a mess. it reminds me of when i was much younger and there's something to celebrate. the air was warm. i am at peace. i am back at the house. i am 23 again. life is well.

as i was writing this on my desktop i was searching for a song to accompany me because somehow i couldn't get myself to write. it has been my greatest issue as of late. i wanted to write. i wanted to document every little thing that has happened in the pas few weeks and months. i wanted to tell you that i saw a video of a white blood cell nirpicking the cells to protect the body and how that simple video changed something inside me. it made me kinder to myself. i wish i could srite about it. i want to write about itm about everything. but whenever i try, it doesn't come out the way i wanted it to. but i guess that's just how writing is supposed to bem not everything can and should be translated into words. BUT HOW ELSE AM I TO KEEP THIS? i wanted to preserve this memory. this time frame. i want to keep a remnant of myself during this era. i want to meet me again once im older.bi know i will never be like this again. i want to preserve this. me. this moment. this time of my life. of confusion and answers and calm and storm and slowly learning. i am pretty too. i think i am in my most beautiful era. lol. my hair is long, i have a bangs, my hair has a good volume, it's wavy at the ends.

okay i strayed so far from what i was gonna say but here it is. i found this video on youtube. i think it's a gem. it's perfect for the mood i was in, look at the sunlight. that was what this day felt like. i love this life in spite of everything that has happened. i love this life.

[alba8688]

Chapter 6

A/n was listening linger while writing this chapter .

Eddie and I decided to go for a walk at the park that was close to the coffee shop and the apartment . The weather was nice today, the start of spring in Hawkins.

We had found a quiet place under a tree. I placed a towel for us to sit down well for everyone. It was just me by myself sitting down having a picnic like a loner but next to me was a smiling Eddie telling me about the time he broke his arm by jumping off the monkey bar.

I smiled looking at him. I love the way he smiled when he talked about something he remembered or when he talked about D&D the way he expressed himself drove me crazy .

Ok don't know how chrissy always told him he was such a nerd ..

But I actually didn't mind him being a nerd .

Even if he made me watch the lord of the rings movies over and over again explaining everything that was happening ..

Eddie and i had gotten closer lately,maybe it was the fact that I was the only that could see him or the fact that we both shared the same heartbreak .But I know something else was growing inside of me and it really scared me alot.

"Ari?"eddies voice got me out of my mind

"Huh"

"Are you back in Hawkins?"Eddie tilted his head to look at me smiling .From where I was sitting I had the perfect view of his brown eyes and the sun reflecting from them made them even more prettier. I could actually get lost in them any day.

"Sorry"i blushed when i noticed i was staring for too long

"Whats in that pretty head of yours?"

"I don't know .'' I said softly ,he stared at me for a few more minutes before he changed his conversation and turned to look at the same time I did when I heard that familiar voice I knew too damn well.

"Jason"

"Chrissy," we said at the same time .

A few feet away from where we were sitting having our small picnic we saw Jason and Chrissy with Jason's family having a big picnic.

They looked so happy together Chrissy was so big already about to pop any day .

Jason kept hugging her and kissing her he couldn't keep his hands off of her ..

They looked so in love .

I remembered when Jason use to look at me the same way and I remember when he stop looking at me like that but I never realized that he had stop loving me .

The signs were always there but I never paid attention to them. I was too blind .

I felt a lump in my chest remembering the last picnic the Carver family had. Jason had told me it was nothing big that it was just going to be him, his dad and some uncles, just the boys.

But I found out days later from his mother that it was a family thing. She had asked me how I felt because Jason had told her I was sick the was the reason he gave when I wasn't there at the picnic when in reality I had no idea what was going on.

I felt a tear fall down my cheek remembering that day and other days he did the same thing to me that was the last year we were together.

I remember him telling me he had things to do or errands to run or even go put gas on his car .He always told me he wouldn't take long and he ended up taking longer than expected.

"Hey are you ok?"eddie lean in closer to me

"Yeah sorry ."i replied my voice shaky

"It's because of them right?"he asked with a sad tone. I hadn't even realized that Eddie was hurting too. I was too lost in my own pain to remember that Eddie was hurt by the same two persons that hurt me.

"Im sorry Eddie i was just remembering the last year Jason and i were together how he used to make excuses to go out to meet chrissy how he lied to me at my face and i never saw the signs i was too in love with him to see that he had been cheating on me for a year .'i stop and looked at Eddie who look like a deer caught in headlights

'A year?"he close his eyes and took a deep breathe"a fucking year and i never saw anything i never caught up to her stupid lies t-that she had to go to the library or that she had to work late later to find out she was never working when i went to visit her at her suppose job,"eddie stop talking and look at me "im sorry for the pain she caused you."i could see he was trying to hold back the tears

"Eddie, it's not your fault,you have nothing to be sorry for you didn't cheat on me ,you didn't lie to me ."i wipe the tears falling down my cheeks and put my airpods on pretending to be listening music or talking to someone because people kept staring at me talking to myself.

"Hey sweetheart don't cried please ."he coo

I tried to hold back the tears but it was hard bringing back all those memories really hurt i had never talked to anyone about it not even claire i didn't want to bother her with my sadness.

"Fuck i wished i was able to hug you but i cant because im not here im in a coma in a hospital bed and i wont wake up,Fucking sleeping beauty iam "he chuckled at the last part

He made me giggle imagining Eddie being woken up by true love's kiss

"Maybe you need to be woken up by your princess kissing your pretty rosy lips."shit shit shit did i say that outloud

Fucking shit Eddie stayed sitting in place his eyes wide looking at me i stood up picking up everything.

I was trying my best not look stupid or anything but i think i did

"Sweetheart.'eddie was now standing in front of me smiling that stupid smile that made me melt

"Hmm."was the only thing i said looking anywhere else but at him.

I just couldn't look at him after what I said

"You think my lips are pretty?"he pouted his lips

"Shut up "i giggle picking up my bag and walking away from him

"Ari you can't hide from me sweetheart i know where you live!!"he shouted, making me chuckle. I ran to the apartment in hopes I beat Eddie but I know damn sure he was there by now laying down in bed with his arms on the back of his head waiting for me to get there.

And that's exactly how he was when I arrived.

Next chapter

Aria’s outfit

[dracwife]

oooh oooooooohhh u wanna write 5 or 6 for ncis man so bad ooooooh (this ask was sponsored by mcgee) (ALSO ZERO PRESSURE ILY /P)

i do i really do i so do 😔 (ILY2!!!! ty for the ask im kissing u on the mouth nohomo)

5. by the fireplace. & 6. a kiss at midnight.

"This would all go much faster if you helped, you know."

"Papercuts are not my friend. Besides, last time I tried you banned me from doing anything except holding the tape, remember?"

Mickey sits legs crossed on the ground, Tim laying next to him propped up on one hand, the other scratching just behind Dina's ear, who took her spot cuddled next to him on the den's floor.

And while Tim was distracting their dog, Mickey was wrapping gifts. His phone buzzed a few feet away.

"Check that for me?" Mickey leaned down; He didn't particularly care for the holidays, but wrapping was one of the few areas he took great pride in participating in; Every gift was wrapped with precision, every crease narrow and every corner perfect. It was that inner scientist that made him, he thinks.

"It's Abby," Tim's voice was low, on account of him doing his best to not wake the oversized puppy next to him, "She says she'll be over an hour early the day of to help finish setting up."

"Perfect. Tell her she's a lifesaver."

"...Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, it's a lot to put on a dinner for so many people. It could be just us, if you want, and --"

"Timmy, is that jealously I hear?"

"No -- No! Not...It's just, I know you don't care much for Christmas anyways," his voice trails off, he can feel his face burning with embarrassment, and he suddenly becomes very interested in the dark spots of fur on Dina's ears.

"You sure you don't want me all to yourself on Christmas morning?"

"I do, I just," Tim pauses, stutters, he realizes how what he's just said sounds, and swears if the light from that electric fireplace heater in Mickey's living room hadn't already casted a reddish glow across the room he fears what his boyfriend might have thought -- at the same time, he can hear Mickey's voice now, 'You're too cute when you blush,' in an all too familiar tone, considering the amount of times he's heard just that phrase alone before...

"Christmas is supposed to be spent with your family. And the team is my family."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"I know," Mickey slides the now wrapped gift towards the growing pile under the tree they've set up a few feet away. Something about it makes his heart beat a little faster, and a smile to grow across his face. He never had a Christmas like this to look forward to, one with the people he cared about, with the person he loved the most. He couldn't help but get excited, to go all out despite his many admittances in the previous years that he hated nothing more than the whole winter festivity season, "But it's our first Christmas together. Like, together together."

"I hope it's everything you want it to be."

Mickey looks over. He looks over at the way Tim's laid so comfortably next to him, even on the hardwood floor. The way he's so distracted by Dina, who's awake now and trying so desperately to catch Tim's hand as he ruffles her fur and grins. The way he still wears that blush that Mickey knows had his shoulders and chest as red as that poinsettia on the coffee table, and chuckles. Everything seemed to fall in place this year for him, for once he felt as if everything would be okay. Like it was worth the effort.

He moves a little closer, leans down and kisses Tim; He smiles into it for a second and breaks away only after he finds the words to say.

"I know it will be."

[honey-boyyoongi]

Pairing ➪ Reader x Yoongi| Part 47//??

Word count ➪ 847

Warnings ➪ it’s not beta-ed; any mistakes are mine; mentions of possible past child neglect; mentions of possible child abuse; mentions of anxiety; mentions of possible mental health issues; mentions of possible manipulation; if it doesn’t make sense im sorry:); if your named is crossed out its because I couldn’t tag you;

Summary ➪ Min Yoongi, is a simple man. He likes his coffee black and iced, he enjoys his job, and he loves his baby girl. But what happens when the new neighbor, quite literally, drops into his life?

A/n: heyyyyy besties~~~ :)))))))))) yall have been waiting for this!! As always feedback is appreciated and if you want to be added to the tag list please let me know 💕

Previous Next

-

Minji was riddled with anxiety. She decided to leave a day early, wanting some time to herself to think. In the past weeks she’s learned every little thing about the child. Mrs. Min sent pictures of the child from a year old forward. She wanted to ask for pictures of her as an infant, but felt like she was overstepping.

A lot in the city was different; the little restaurant her and Yoongi frequented was now being run by the owners daughter, her favorite bookstore was now a cosmetics shop, the shady apartment building she used to live in with Mina was now repainted and renovated. Just as things changed some stayed the same; the uncle that sold ice cream at the park is still going strong; her favorite market still sells the brown sugar pancakes she loves, and her parents house still looks exactly the same way it did when she left it 8 years ago. The door is still that ugly shade of brown she’s detested since childhood, and the peach tree her brother had begged for as children is still left neglected. It’s all horribly nostalgic.

The fights, the anxiety, the grief; it was all coming back. She would never dare say it out loud, but she heavily resented her parents, almost bordering on hate. The lack of attention stopped bothering her in her teenage years, she had Jisung, and Minji was content with that. She had adapted to keeping herself hidden, always going with the status quo her parents had enforced. The less attention she received, the less she had to interact with her parents. Jisung always took the brunt of it all; he had expectations that burdened him from birth. Minji still remembers the last time she saw her brother, he was less tense, almost at peace. She likes to remember him that way; happy, sitting under his peach tree.

Minji tries to distract herself, she goes into town to get necessities. Mrs. Min had invited her to stay at her home, ‘You’re going to need all the help you can get once you get Haneul’, she had said. Minji, while appreciative, refused. She had booked a hotel, needing a neutral space to keep herself grounded. Bora had kept insisting, but she never budged.

Minji was walking the isles when she sees, what she at first assumes, a mother and daughter playfully bickering. Minji wondered, what if? What if she had stayed? Would her and the child be that loving? Would she love that child like this mother loved her daughter? Drowned in her thoughts she can faintly hear them.

“Are you sure you want that soup for dinner,” the mother asked.

“Yes,” the toddler exclaimed.

“I thought you didn’t like that one honey.”

“Bu-bu- you and-and papa like it. I have chicken, so is okay,” the child mumbled. Minji faintly smiled under her mask, amused at the toddler’s logic. It was a sweet moment she hoped to have one day.

She passes by them, listening to the toddler who’s eagerly trying to show her mother which vegetables are the absolute best for their meal. Minji is still fighting with herself when she sees him. Yoongi still looks as handsome as ever; his hair had grown out even longer, he had subtle smile lines decorating the sides of his mouth, very subtle silver hair at the very front of his part. His eyes seemed exhausted, his fingers showed mild signs of his awful picking habit, but underneath all of that she still saw the same 24 year old Yoongi that had showed up to her and Mina’s place. He wasn’t wearing the ripped jeans she associated with him, now he was dressed in a full suit and tie, everything looking expensive down to the cuff links, his attention stolen by the toddler exclaiming out, “Papa! Look!” Yoongi turns towards the child, completely smitten.

The child motions him forward, showing off the vegetables she had chosen, “Look, Bee said I pick. Papa do you like?”

Yoongi nods approvingly, “You did such a good job Hani.”

Minji quickly left. She walked, and walked, and walked. Until she couldn’t anymore. She doesn’t remember getting back to her hotel, or getting into bed. She tries to avoid remembering her dreams. They ring mockingly in her ears, ‘The child is happy, without you. The love of your life is happy, without you. This person is better than you. Your child loves her. The love of your life loves her. She stole your child. She stole the love of your life.’

On her way to the elder Mins’ home, she wondered if she could get what she lost back. Maybe she and Yoongi could try again, for the sake of their child of course. Maybe she could move back to this city, stay with the Mins until they found a home to raise their daughter. The ideas progressively started to sound like Mrs. -, no, like mom guiding her along. Mother Min would help her get her happiness back, and she was ready to claim what was rightfully hers.

Tag List: @unicornbabylover @halesandy @supernoonanyc @aianloveseven @hannahdinse8 @lyndseygoregasmxo @aunoiire @brbkpop @nochuwastaken @tinyoonsblog @borahae-reads @jinscharms @phenomenalgirl9 @yoongiigolden @girlwithluv0613 @yaboiithewreck @mint--yoongs @ysljoon @hyunjingin @yu-justme @damn-u-min-yoongi @lovelytaes-blog @so-da-1 @cruelsummer-s @seolaquotes @lovelgirl22 @dreamamubarak @leanimal90 @atinymonbebestay @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @jaiuneamesolitaiire

Fic Masterlist

[onlyuzu]

delicate. | Kim Hongjoong

dom! males reader x switch! hongjoong

genre: smut

warnings: dom reader sub hongjoong, fanboy and idol dynamic, grinding, thigh riding, bj

synopsis: while ateez is in dallas hongjoong can't seem to get his eyes off a handsome man in the front row. what will happen when he's invited back to hongjoong hotel room.

the concert night had started off normally, you were far past just excited for this night. you stood in the crowd ateez coming out from under the stage. loud music pounded around your head, you just having the best time of you life until something hit you in the head. onstage hongjoong had a oh shit face, this promoted you into picking up the small box and open it ; A small piece of paper left inside with a number.

you shrugged lightly pocketing the box, this could be fun later you thought your brain still not catching up to what was happening.

after the concert there was a walk through type event where when you passed hongjoong he waved quickly while pointing to your head signaling to ask if you were okay.

of course physically you were fine but you were insanely sad you had to leave the concert venue, but then you remember about what was in the box that hit your head.

you decided to give the number a ringer only to be met with the voice of Kim Hongjoong. "hello" his gently friendly voice rang out, leaving you almost speechless. "im sorry about the box hitting your head I really didn't mean for it to hit you." he spoke again. "no no no it's okay im just did you mean to give me your number?" you questioned sitting down into your car locking the doors once you were in.

"of course I mean too, I couldn't get my mind of you the entire concert I needed a way to communicate with you." he spoke softly slightly proud of himself for thinking of this. "oh wow okay this can't be happening."

"it is! currently in sneaking off, meet me at the little coffee shop, please ?" hongjoong spoke in the kindest and sweetest way anyone has ever talked to you. "mhm! see you there!"

and with that you drove off to the coffee shop. still in shock and trying to understanding what was happening you took a seat at a empty table ordering a hot earl gray tea. eventually a masked hongjoong arrived quickly taking a seat infront of you.

"hello I can't believe this is happening." you spoke kindly softly chuckling at the male infront of you. the conversation stayed pure and friendly until hongjoong invited you back to his hotel room. of course you happily agreed and went along with him.

the two boys where layout on the hotels balcony looking up at the stars together. "hongjoong, what's the hardest thing about these type of tours?" you ask gently, looking for the sky over to him, he as well did this making eye contact with you.

"I'd have to say the stress, those not really any outlet we have to relieve the stress and jet lag." hongjoong spoke while maintaining eye contact his eyes quickly flickering down to your lips before quickly flickering back up.

"I could help you rid of stress.." you whispered trailing off staring at his plump nice lips. if wasn't long till hongjoong made the first move, leaning in and giving you just a small kiss to see how you'd react. for a moment you stared at him in confusion before going in for seconds, this kiss being long and calming.

this led you both into the hotel room, you gently laid hongjoong on the bed leaning over him while continuing to kiss him. hongjoong giggled softly into the kiss before moving away starting to kiss on your neck. this action lighted something inside you up like a Christmas tree. gently with one hand you placed hongjoongs hands above his head the over hand removing his lips away from your neck, pointing his head the other way giving you full view of his pretty neck and collar bones that were peaking through the top of his slightly unbuttoned button up.

you easily start to move your way down his neck and chest, unbuttoning closed buttons on the way down. his skin felt smooth and soft against your lips,it was like everything you'd imagined from before but better. hongjoong on the other hand squirmed under you already showing signs of being on the sensitive side. "may I remove your clothes hongjoong?" you asked you're delicate fingers tracing his clothed thighs, the crotch of his pants only getting tighter and tighter. he nodded quickly in response starting to slip off your clothes for you while you were busy undressing him.

there was no going back now. you brought hongjoong back into another deep kiss starting to grind your crotch against his slowly, the underwear being the only thing separating you two now.

"fuck y/n, please, I need more then this." hongjoong begins to whimper and beg, moving himself down to your thigh starting to grind against it. this sparked a idea in your head. "ride my thigh." you said firmly.

hongjoong whimpered in the softest way, starting to grind his hips ruffly down onto your thigh. soft moans pouring from his lips as you placed your hands onto his hips helping him guide his hips.

hongjoong twitched lightly, his body shuddering as he was getting close already. his hands gripping onto your shoulders while desperately moving his trembling hips quicker and quicker applying more pressure as the cream colored liquid shot from his tip. a whinny moan leaving his lips as he road out his orgasm, gripping on you tightly.

you wrapped your arms around his ways holding him up as he came down from his high. slowly hongjoong gained himself back starting to slid down to your crotch. with small pants he used his mouth attempting to slide off your underwear, eventually succeeding through his struggle. you smirked at this leaning back and enjoying the show until hongjoong started to place kitten licks to your aching cock. electricity shooting through your nerves as he took you whole. the flat of his tongue abusing your tip as he bobbed his head quickly.

deep moans left your lips as you lightly gripped hongjoong hair your head leaning back in pleasure. "fuck I could do this all night." you groaned and carried on you grip on hongjoongs hair only tightening earning whimpers and moans from him.

you moved your foot on top of hongjoongs already hard again cock, pressing down and rubbing small circles. his hips shook lightly his moans vibrating against your cock delivering you the best pleasure.

since hongjoong was so sensitive it didn't take him long to cum again his thighs pressing together tightly around your foot as you also grew close cumming into his mouth.

hongjoong leaned up licking some of the cum off his lips as he had swallowed the rest. you grabbed hongjoong pulling him into a soft kiss.

"round whatever we're on ?" he qestioned as he pulled away small giggles coming from you both

so there it is, sorry for typos and sorry if it makes no sense it was written slowly over the span of a month 😭 this isn't proof read

[poisonouswritings]

Could you imagine the rest of the starsworn gagging and watching sage fall in love with mc? They find them randomly napping together in the library, in trees, on couches all over fathom and even in balconies sometimes. Sage literally turns into a puppy around mc and it doesnt help the fact that mc was the only one able to calm sage down in arguments (for example when Elowen showed up at balsams house idk which chapter). The second mc walks into the room sages eyes are on mc (like in chapter 11 when mc wakes up the first time and sage is all like 'daww you look cute when you drool :3') and somehow he's still in denial about his feelings. So how would the rest of the starsworn react to that? All of a sudden the same dude they've grown up with is gushing over someone like a little boy with a crush. Everytime they argue and sage storms out they think he's going to get a drink but an hour later they find him in MC's lap fast asleep with his ears pinned back. (I dunno about y'all but my cats take naps when they're mad and i think sage would do that too).

Also small dates with sage in the fathom kitchen,,,, y'all just eat whatever you can find in the pantry,,,,sage lays his coat down on the floor so y'all can sit comfortably,,,and you guys just talk about anything and everything,,,,,and it's so soft and quiet,,, But the next morning the rest of the starsworn don't find it so cute when they're trying to reach the coffee in the bottom cabinets.

IM GUNNA BE FLOODING YOUR INBOX A LITTLE MORE NOW >:D

Also......why would your mom lie to you about your birthday 🧍 if she wanted to honor her grandmother,,,, why does she need your birthday for it,,,,,it's supposed to be YOUR special day??

-egg anon (dumb bitch anon)

You wanna hear more stuff about my mom? 'Course you do. But I'll put it at the bottom under a read more so people can skip it.

Anyways you're completely right and that's adorable and I miss Sage so much. Also yay! I love getting your asks :)

GN!Reader, kitty cat cuddles, denial, everyone hates you two (affectionate)

Sage follows you around everywhere, tail wagging and ears fluffy and trying to wipe that love-struck smile off his red face but whenever Anisa points it out Sage just says he thought of a funny joke

He gets steals you little presents from the marketplace and when Felix teases him Sage says he's just trying to help you feel more at home since someone ripped you away from your world (and Felix feels a lil guilty every time)

He learns how to make your favorite Earth dishes and when Tulsi asks about it Sage just says he's broadening his culinary horizons

> SureJan.jpeg

After enough time has passed Felix and Anisa just default to looking for you after they get into a fight with Sage because that's where he always is anyways. Bonus points if you're significantly smaller than him and he's just smothering you with his tiddies while you awkwardly have a book open off to the side so you can still kinda read. You ask them to get you water since you obviously can't move.

You're in a tree and laying on his chest while you guys stargaze and he tells you about the different consolations. I think he and Tulsi probably made up stories for them when they were younger and he tells you those.

(self indulgent) if it's during the day he might take you bird watching, especially since you're already in a tree. But you have to sit in his lap :3 to make sure he doesn't pounce on the birds :3 that's it that's totally the only reason why :3

He has a nightmare and he just crawls into your bed while trying not to wake you up because he doesn't wanna talk about it he just needs to be near you right now

Sleeping in the kitchen,, Anisa wakes up first and goes to make tea and Sage growls at her because She's Gonna Wake You Up >:(

He drags you into a sunbeam to take a nap and for the next two hours you just have this giant cat sleeping in your lap. Felix brings cards and Anisa brings snacks and you guys just have a little poker party while Sage snores on you

But the entire time he keeps insisting he doesn't have feelings for you

I've been rewatching The Nanny lately and Tulsi is Niles, aka just screaming in the background for you two to get together already.

And re: my mother...

When I was in 6th grade I had to write a poem for English class and one of the lines I wrote was 'staying up late during summer laughing with my best friends' and since I had typed it on the home computer, she had access to it, and changed it to 'staying up late during summer laughing with my mom, my best friend'

I was having really bad memory problems in middle school and at one point she had told me to ask my counselor something and I'd completely forgotten and I broke down crying because I was so frustrated with myself and she screamed at me and told me to 'stop trying to guilt her'

I was on the highschool golf team and I didn't do very well in one of the matches (performance anxiety, I wonder why) and she screamed at me the entire ride home, calling me pathetic and a loser and a waste of money and so on.

I have deutal colorblindness, meaning I can't see a portion of shades everyone else can. For my birthday I got Enchroma glasses, which let me see full colors. About a week later she took them away because I was 'being disrespectful' because I disagreed with her about something (don't remember what anymore). I didn't get them back for four months.

One time she was wrong about something minor and I told her so and she got annoyed. I told her everyone is wrong sometimes, that's part of being human, and she snapped and said that she didn't want me to see her as human, she wanted me to see her as a god. I still couldn't actually tell you if she was joking or not.

For a while whenever I would defend myself over something she would scream and cry that I was gaslighting or being hateful or hurting her or whatever and I now have crippling anxiety and refuse to ever defend myself because I'm afraid of being seen as abusive

She's fine like 80% of the time but the other 20% she's absolutely psychotic and that's a big part of the reason why I have such severe self-esteem issues 🙃

[tema-makes-art-sometimes]

How I imagine the nations smell/what perfumes and scented candles they’d have/like.

Because my friend Richie started talking about how nations smell like, I’m thinking about it a lot so here’s my rambled thoughts cause why not. This normally isn’t my dig but why not Im bored.

--N Italy--

Vene smells like happiness- I joke but I imagine he smells just very bright. Like orange peels, and freshly cut grass. Firm pressed designer leather bags too. Not to mention fresh food, like he just left the kitchen after being in it all day. The warring smells of all sorts of spices that linger on his clothes from accidental hand fumbles or just a little too much enthusiastic shaking.

--S Italy--

Romano’s is very sharp, something that hits you when he walks in but not in an unpleasant way. I think he’d smell like a coffee shop. Very warm and impactful. Citrus and coffee, like an espresso romano. Specifically lemon and dark roasted coffee, maybe the faintest hint of caramel or something sweet that you can’t quite place. A gentle touch, just a touch of the ocean too. Just a slight sprinkle of salt.

--Germany--

Germany smells like a bakery, that’s it I wont take critique on the matter. I used to lean oak wood and car oil like his brother but let’s be real this man smells like he’s been sleeping in the bakery for 10 years. He smells like bread and cinnamon and blackberry jam. He smells like turbenado sugar and fresh baked apple pie. Just... warmth. A warm bakery or a kitchen. Filled with laughter and homely vibes.

--Prussia--

Prussia’s is similar to Germany but a bit harsher. There’s the under-hint of sweets but the overtone his oak and mahogany wood and leather. With just a twinge of that sweet hoppy smell of beer. Not too much just on the very edge. Wouldn't be surprised if he has a splash of car oil to his vibe. Just smells like an old man XD. But joking aside its a very homely vibe. Like he just came in from being out in the garage all day working on his car and just came in for a drink and a conversation.

--Japan--

Japan has the most subtle of scents. Cherry blossom is the most obvious but I think he leans more toward warm ocean breeze, faint sea salt and macha tea. Just that warm ocean vibe like youre standing right by the ocean, feeling thew waves on your feet, feeling the salt sting your nose just a bit. Balanced out with the round smell of macha that mellows it just enough for the gentle but pronounced cherry blossom to come through.

--USA--

America sounds like a drive in or a diner. That warm fry oil and seared beef and bacon. And soda, like that tingle of when you first open a soda. Specifically a cherry soda, that sweet, sticky fake cherry syrup smell. That kind of energy. He also smells like worn leather and cut grass, mainly from the his old bomber jacket that he wears all the time. It gives him a more well rounded vibe to him. Like sitting in an old diner from the 60′s with the leather booths and the jukeboxes.

--Canada--

“MAPLE” yeah of course obviously. He of course smells like maple syrup, but also other things. To me he has a forest vibe to him, a cabin in the woods. Like pine trees, moss, half frozen soil, maple sap/syrup. He smells like the halfway point between winter and spring. Where pollen and the vague scent of flowers are starting to appear while the soft scent of fallen snow and salt still lingers.

--UK--

England’s a really easy one for me. He smells like old books, earl grey and black tea and the ocean. He smells like- wet. Even when he isnt. You know the smell when you get soaked in the rain? That vibe. And of course, the old dusty books, ones that have been on the shelf for years and years, whom pages are starting to yellow. Fresh brewed tea with that hint of steam, just wet cool and a bit bitter.

--France--

While I’m trying to not have all of them smell like flowers because that unrealistic, I’m going all for it here. You can’t tell me this man doesn't smell like a bouquet of roses with an after-hint of that sharp sting yet pleasant and mellow scent of a good red wine. Like that distinct smell of alcohol, surrounded by a vibrant array of bright floral scents. He smells like he walks around with a dozen roses and a bottle of wine in his hands all the time and he cultivates that approachable suave energy with it.

--China--

China smells warm. Just warm. Like I can’t quite specify what it is but I feel like his ambient scent is just warmth. Like cinnamon and star anise, Chinese five spice kind of vibe. Something that when it hits your nose you just feel good. Like he just walked out of a high end fancy restaurant after a big meeting with others. Maybe a subtle hint of peonies. He has that natural vibe that just makes you wanna smile.

--Russia--

I like to think Russia smells like a snow covered forest. That scent and feeling when the air is sharply cold and you can smell the snowstorm coming in, with a bit of pine. Maybe even a hint of a campfire. If I had to pick like a building that he’d have that ambient scent of it would be like a carpentry shop. The smell of a fire in the fireplace, freshly lacquered wood, cut mahogany and pine sap.

[doodler-jpeg]

Life [Wilbur Soot/Fundy]

BOOOM HI HELLO HOW ARE YOU UH UM SO I WAS INSPIRED WHILE I WAS BORED AND THEN THIS IS HOW THIS ONESHOT CAME TO BE. ITS NOT GOOD, BUT ITS DECENT. You’re gonna be taking Sally’s place so, uh, I’m sorry, Sally, you’re just another salmon. Still love you though  THIS TOOK SO LONG TO MAKE DEAR GOD ITS BEEN IN THE WORKS FOR LIKE A MONTH LMAO

ALSO, KEEP IN MIND THIS IS C!WILBUR/SMP!WILBUR

⚠️CUSSING, AFAB READER, PREGNANCY, THIS IS A REALLY LONG ONE SHOT OH MY GOD, PLATONIC FUNDY RELATIONSHIP SO YEAH⚠️

Pronouns: she/her or they/them [you’re referred to as wife, mom,, that stuff, but you can change those if you want]

You hummed as you strained out your clothing beside the river near your home. A smile graced your face, [Eye Colour] eyes glinting happily in the warm sunlight of that fine summer day. Autumn would soon turn the land into a seemingly barren wasteland, though, so you decided to savor every last bit of happiness the hot days brought you. 

Hanging the large amount of clothing upon thin clothing lines, you dumped out your bucket and made sure nothing got in the lake. Walking back inside of your home, you set the buckets in the corner of the cozy cottage and walked back outside. Your brown boots thudded quietly against the cobblestone path that lead into the woods around your home that would eventually be covered in snow.

A sudden childish giggle made you turn to the fields that were a ways away from your house, right in front of the sparsely scattered trees to the right of your little house. You furrowed your brows in confusion as a blur of yellow, white, and red rushed over to you.

“Hello there.” You couldn’t help but stare as the child looked up at you silently. “What are you doing here, little one?” He only blushed, his face flushing a vivid red before he ran off. You shrugged and continued your trek into the forest.

//

You watched as flakes of snow fell delicately onto the muted green coloured grass, bundled tightly in a burrito of quilts that you and your mother has made together. You shuffled slightly from your position on your warm bed, closing your eyes as you waited for sleep to consume you.

It seemed life had other plans, though, as a faint light came toward your home, edging closer and closer until you could make out a figure, their clothing a great contrast to the paw snow. They were shivering visibly, clutching their arms as their lantern shook in their hand.

You frowned as you peeled your blankets off of you, pulling your boots on quickly. Grabbing a lantern cage, you lit the candle inside of it and hurried outside, feeling nervous as the figure hurried over to you.

Soon enough, they were standing in front of you, a miserable look on their face, their eyes red and puffy as their teeth chattered together.

“Come inside,” you didn’t care for introductions or your safety. This person seemed nice. “I’ll start a fire. Uh- there should be a few blankets on the sofa. Would you like anything to drink? Warm milk, tea? I’m not gonna offer coffee because it’s late, so I’m sorry about that.”

“Just water, please,” they croaked out. “I’m sorry for the intrusion. I was headed off in search of territory to claim. Turns out I chose the wrong day. God, it’s cold.” You let out a quiet laugh as you carefully tossed some wood into your fireplace, lighting the material on fire. Almost immediately, the flames grew and you sat up, placing your flint and steel on the fireplace mantle.

“I’ll go get you your water. Go warm up.” You urged before you walked into the kitchen to get the brunet some water.

//

““And then Tommy ran off!” Wilbur howled with laughter as he told the story of how he managed to lose his father in the forest close to his family home. ““Phil was looking for us for hours!” You smiled at the story as you carefully sewed up your friend’s heavy coat, making sure the patches were relatively the same colour as the rest of the jacket.

“You never really tell me about your family, so why are you telling stories now?” You commented, threading the needle in your hand through the fabric and back out of it, pulling the thread tightly. You snipped it with your scissors, placing the needle down to look for any other holes as Wilbur flushed a bright red.

“W-well— one day, I want you to meet my family, so- this sounds so fucking stupid. Never mind, forget about it.” He covered his face in his hands as you bummed, picking up a patch and laying it out on the brown fabric.

“What you’re saying is that you would introduce me to your family because you like me that much, huh?” No answer came from Wilbur, though he did let out a flustered groan as you chortled.

//

You placed a kiss upon your new boyfriend’s cheek, causing the brunet to laugh as he shrunk away from your lips

“Stop it,” you only grinned at the man, kissing various areas of his face in retaliation. Wilbur laughed harder, pushing you away gently as his face scrunched. ““It tickles!”

You grabbed his face in your hands and he looked into your eyes for a moment before you began attacking his face with kisses. When you pulled back for a break, Wilbur copied your actions from earlier and rubbed his thumb across your cheeks with a smile. He leaned his forehead on yours and let out a breathy sigh, closing his eyes as he basked in the moment.

“I love you so fucking much, [Y/N].”

//

““Dont be scared, darling,” Wilbur mused as he gently rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of your hand, lightly squeezing every few rotations. “Techno’s made sure to keep any weapons away and Tommy might be a little less wreckless. I’ll make sure to tell them during dinner.” You nodded uncertainly, playing nervously with the bracelet Wilbur had made you way back when the two of you first started as friends.

Wilbur rapped his knuckles on the door, his other hand never once letting go of yours as the two of you waited. A bit of shouting was heard through the door, slightly muffled, though it was evident that it was coming closer.

The door was flung open by a blond boy, his blue eyes shooting us to meet Wil’s not even a second after he opened the door. A grin was on the boys face as he turned and shouted for Phil [who Wilbur had told you was his father]. Soon enough, a blond man with a bucket hat trodden over, frowning at Tommy.

“Listen, motherfucker, you may be living here, but I’m not gonna fucking let you live if you keep fuckin shoutin.” You froze nervously and glanced over at your boyfriend. He just sent a small, awkward smile onto reassure you before he turned to look down at the two.

“Are you really gonna argue in front of my wife?” Wilbur piped in, feeling himself become giddy as Tommy and Phil shot their heads over to look at you.

“You brought a girl over?!” Tommy yelled in surprise as he stumbled back, eyes wide as he observed your movements skeptically.

“Wil? Can you come over here real quick? I just need to talk to you.” Phil forced a smile as he grabbed the taller man’s ear and yoinked him over to a different room, leaving Tommy and you alone.

“Hi,” you smiled nervously, raising a hand in a half assed wave.

“Do you happen to be American?” The blond asked, leaning his face over to stare at you.

“I mean- I’m a water nymph. I don’t really know if that counts because we usually just have different accents, but we never take into account where anyone’s from.” You laughed, scratching your cheek.

“Well where are you from?” Tommy urged, crossing his arms.

“To be specific, I came from the North Sea right by the Netherlands. I don’t really think that’s important though.” You shrugged.

“So you’re Dutch? Speak it.”

“Im not necessarily Dutch, I was just born in the North Sea, Tommy- I think you’re a Tommy. You seem like a Tommy.” You cleared up, ““The only reason I learned English was to communicate with certain humans.”

“Okay.” The boy sighed, shoulders slumping forward as you let out an amused chortle, “I’ll leave you alone. For now.” Tommy backed up, turning into a room while a big, burly pig person ducked under the doorway, a large sword in hand and an uninterested expression on his face. As he turned to the door, he spotted you and his eyes widened momentarily before going back to their half lidded position.

“Who’re you? Phil didn’t- oh. Oh, today was that day. Oh my god, how could I forget it?” The hybrid smacked his forehead harshly, ““I’m so sorry.”

You laughed, waving your hand dismissively as the pig moved to the side to let you in. You carefully stepped into the warm house and the tall hybrid closed the door behind you.

“Dinner’s nearly done, so you can go sit down in the living room. If you need anything, Phil has ears all over the place. Just look at those crows.” Techno motioned over to the few crows that perched themselves on the window, letting out quiet caws. You waved at the birds and they flapped their wings in response.

“They seem nice.”

//

You sat next to your husband, hand intertwined with his as Phil smiled over at the two of you.

“So, anything new happening with you two?” The blond man inquired, placing his hands on the table. 

““I mean,” Wilbur laughed, turning over to look at you. “Would you like to tell them, dear?” You nodded, a grin on your face as you sat as straight as you could.

“I’m pregnant,” you said, your voice surprisingly calm. Tommy let out a shocked ‘‘what the fuck??’, while Techno choked on his food, slamming a fist onto his chest.

Phil was quiet, eyes wide in shock as he took in the information.

“Pregnant? With Wilbur’s kid?” You nodded, swinging Wilbur’s hand as Tommy cheered.

“Im gonna be a fuckin uncle! Yeah! I’ll be the best damn uncle ever!” He cackled, leaning back as Techno snorted.

““Can I teach them PvP?” You and your husband glanced over at each other before shaking your head.

“Maybe when they’re old enough to know what they’re doing.”

//

““Hello, my precious baby,” you cooed gently, holding the newborn as they let out a quiet sigh. ““My baby. You look just like your father.” A warm but tired smile was on your face as your baby opened their eyes, brown meeting [Eye Colour].

“Love, is the baby okay? Is she doing alright?” Wilbur called nervously through the door, to which you laughed.

“Yes, they’re doing great,” placing a gentle kiss on the baby’s nose, they brought a hand up and lightly tapped their nose.

//

““Fundy! Come here!” You cheered, reaching your arms out to the toddler. They giggled, waddling over to you. Their scab covered knees were littered with bandages and the red overalls they wore were much unlike what Wilburs would have wanted your child to wear, but it was your kid! They deserved the best!

““My precious baby,” you placed a kiss on their cheek, causing the brown haired child to giggle and wipe the kiss from their cheek. You grinned, littering their face in kisses as they squirmed, ““My little champion!”

“Yah! Cham-champion!” They babbled, bringing up a finger to chew on as you set them down and smoothed out your dress. 

““Alright, sweetheart, papa will be here soon, so make sure to tell him what you want to tell him, alright?” Your boy nodded, a goofy grin on his face as he reached over to one of the toys you had brought.

//

You cradled your son’s head as he sobbed, shaking his head in denial as to what had just happened.

“He-he’s gone, mama!” He choked out, wrapping his arms around you tightly. His tears stained your shirt, though the feeling didn’t bother you as you rocked your son back and forth, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Fundy, it’s okay,” you cooed, ““He doesn’t have to live with all the mistakes he made in the past anymore. Who knows, maybe he’ll come back?” 

““But what if he doesn’t? That was his last life and- and it’s gone! My dad’s gone!” Letting out a pained wail, he continued to sob. And you let him.

He had gone through so much.

//

““Who the hell are you and what are you doing around my son?” You sneered, standing in front of your son as the transparent figure stared at you curiously.

“You don’t remember me?” They asked, voice echoing as they tilted your head. “I- [Y/N], it’s me! Your husband! I- I am your husband, right?”

“My husband didn’t push away his son and focus on a failed country more than his own fucking family.” You loaded your crossbow, aiming it at the ghost. ““You didn’t come to his birthday parties, didn’t get him anything, you barely paid attention to him when your country was in the spotlight! You’re no husband to me.”

“Mama-” Fundy gulped nervously, ““Mama, please.”

“You know what, whoever the fuck you are? You’re no damn husband to me and you never will be. Now leave me and my son alone, for fuck’s sake.”

The ghost was silent as you turned, leading the man beside you toward the house at the top of the hill, though a small smile made its way onto his face.

“She’s the one I married?” He murmured, moving his hand to where his heart was, “Was she really the love of my life?”