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bratbarzal · 3 months ago

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On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Seven

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

*I say it's an OC, it's just a name and third person POV. I use minor character descriptions because I don’t get on with writing vague reader inserts/YN for long-form, story heavy fics, but I will generally try to avoid including race and body type or really any physical descriptors. I’m always open to feedback on my writing, or how to be more inclusive.

WC: 18k (mad)

Chapter Warnings: ok so me and @h1sch13r were having a conversation about the girl with the list (iykyk and if you don't, don't go looking) and I had to put it in here because it was too funny of an opportunity not to (s/o to Rory for the inspo and the trauma where she told me a woman's brain shrinks in pregnancy who knew!!!) so there's some pretty gross things in here about pregnancy and babies lmao, also poppy has well and truly lost the plot tbh but this is why we love her she is nothing if not delusional, mentions of judgemental parents and weak family relationships, talk of pregnancy, babies and thoughts/feelings around the two topics, talk of childbirth kind of but not in depth, sort of angsty but not like ANGSTY!!!!! do you know what I mean? very much moreso on the fluffy side though. a bit of hurt/comfort. poppy is an anxious mess, nico is... nico (I say with love and affection this time I promise)

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Six)

A/N: I feel like the speed in which I wrote this is a testament to how much I love writing these two and this story and I LOVE YOU GUYS AND THE WAY YOU LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH IT MELTS MY WEE HEART I just wanna spend my days reading all the nice things you send me I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!! 💖 the ending is a little bit rushed but I can't keep going back and forth on it or I'll lose my mind

Poppy

Despite having the invitation stuck to her fridge for 6 weeks, and knowing about the event even further in advance, Poppy’s cousin, Elsie’s, baby shower could not have come at a more ridiculous time for her.

She knows she can’t expect everyone else’s world to stop turning just because her own life is spiralling way out of control, but a baby shower is just downright cruel.

Especially when she hasn’t even taken a test yet.

It's been 3 days since she had spoken to Katja Hischier at the signing event.

She had gone straight to the pharmacy once she had finished work, had picked up every single brand of pregnancy test she could find and had swallowed down the embarrassment when the girl behind the counter had looked at her like she was insane.

And she had spent that whole evening sat staring at the bag in which she had stashed them, not even daring to get one out.

The next day, she had gone to work, and had gone straight back to pretending like nothing else was going on in her life - only this time, she had a little trashcan beneath her desk dedicated to the nausea that rippled through her all day like some sort of sick constant reminder of her situation. It was a gross counter measure, but it stopped her having to take constant trips to the bathroom and rousing any sort of suspicion.

If anyone else were to come to the same conclusion Nico’s mom had, and confront her about it, she would have burst into tears on the spot.

The day after that was Saturday, and of all the things she could have done to distract herself from what was going on, she had gone shopping for a gift for her cousin in Manhattan. With her mother.

She had spent the day looking at cribs, and changing tables, little tiny wardrobes to keep little tiny clothes, and God all the little tiny clothes were so small it made her tense up.

On the upside, it was like her body knew better than to get sick in front of her mother - she’d never hear the end of it.

She was getting enough of a backhanded lecture about her cousin’s pregnancy, never mind the potential of her own.

“I can’t believe she’s having another baby out of wedlock,” Priscilla had scoffed as she and Poppy were first checking through the gift registry in Macy’s, “Your father and your Uncle Paul think she’s an absolute disgrace.”

“They’ve been together like 7 years, Mom, that’s stronger than a few marriages I know of. She’ll be fine.”

“It isn’t about how long they’ve been together, Poppy,” her mom swats at her hand as she scrolls a little too fast down the list, “It’s about securing the best future for those children. The man is a glorified construction worker, she could have chosen better in life.”

Elsie’s partner Jared is an architect, but she couldn’t find any use in arguing that point with her mother in the middle of a department store.

If she found out Poppy could maybe be carrying the baby of a hockey player, who she would never marry and wasn’t even in a relationship with, she would have a cardiac episode right in the middle of the shop floor.

“Is it not about her being happy?” She had asked, and the look her mother threw her way was all the answer she needed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She can’t possibly be happy in that little bungalow with no college education and no ring on her finger. Believe me.”

Elsie’s bungalow had been designed by Jared when she was pregnant with their first son. They owned everything outright from the 4 acres of land it sat on to the final tile Jared had laid in the roof, himself. The house is a labour of love, and every time Poppy visits, Elsie has a smile on her face like she has the whole world at her fingertips.

It has always been something she has envied.

And she thinks it’s envy that creeps up on her in the third day, when she and Nia arrive at the bungalow with their gift bags in tow, and Elsie and Jared answer the door like the picture of once in a lifetime love.

She’s absolutely glowing, mostly through her third trimester now, her bump round and low, her cheeks puffy and her eyes gleaming with unadulterated joy. And Jared looks at her like she’s the only woman in the world.

Yeah, it’s definitely envy.

And maybe a touch of pride at her cousin for sticking it to their family.

“I can’t believe Elsie’s onto her second kid and me and you are glorified spinsters,” Nia comments as she picks up a handful of finger sandwiches.

“I don’t think you can be a spinster at 25, Ni, that’s a little overdramatic.” Poppy responds, swallowing down the arising queasiness at just the sight of devilled eggs on the table set up for food. Elsie is pregnant, for God’s sake, she thinks, she shouldn’t want to be around any kind of eggs.

“Maybe we should just suck it up and marry each other, we’d make cute babies.”

“Again, not how that works.”

“Well obviously you’d carry it. There isn’t a chance in hell I’m ever pushing a little cantaloupe sized head out of my lady parts, I hurt just thinking about it.”

Poppy wants to say tell me about it. It’s all she’s been thinking about herself the last few days, and the last thing she needs as she’s trying to avoid thinking about it is to be surrounded by constant reminders.

Like the little tiny plastic baby clinging to the straw in her lemonade that it takes everything in her to resist launching across the room, or the giant stack of diapers shaped into a four tier cake that sits on the end of the table that she wants to tear apart.

She usually loves babies.

She loves fawning over little boopy noses and squealing at all the cute slogans on their little onesies - like I’m berry cute with a little embroidered strawberry beside it or a little printed dinosaur that says, I’m a-roar-able!

She loves when they get the hiccups, and their wide eyes go round like they don’t know what the hell is happening to their bodies.

She loves when they have those little self-satisfied smiles in their sleep, and everyone argues over whether it’s gas or not.

But as much as she loves all those things usually, right now they are terrifying her.

Every single thing she tries to lay her eyes on to take her mind off of everything is baby themed. Pink floating balloons with teddy bears weighing them down, a message board with a bunch of baby grow shaped cards pinned to it, a bowl of lollipops that are shaped like pacifiers.

She can’t escape it no matter where she goes or who she speaks to, and so all she can do is hover round Nia like a wordless zombie and wait until there’s a group event where hopefully some normal conversation gets flowing.

Only, expecting any kind of normal conversation at a baby shower is delusional at best.

“Oh my god, a snot sucker! I was just telling Jared how much we need one of these!” Elsie exclaims as she pulls the little box out of a gift bag covered in little rainbows.

“A what-now?” Nia’s face is the picture of disgust, leaning into the circle to get a better look at the present Elsie had just unwrapped.

“Babies can’t clear their own noses when they get congested,” Elsie’s friend, Gina, who had gifted the device, pipes up from across the room, “So you put the little tube up there and suck on the other end. The snot gets stuck in the middle and you just wash it out. It saves you having to suck it out with your own mouth.”

“Oh God, I’m gonna be sick,” Poppy chokes out, bringing her hand to her mouth in what the rest of the group assume is mock disgust, but she can literally feel her stomach turning.

“Me too,” Nia mimics her, “Does the girl with the list know about this? That you have to suck the snot out of your baby’s nose?! Who would even think of doing that in the first place?!”

Poppy jabs her elbow into her side, wincing at the thought and trying to fight the urge to vomit. The last thing she needs is to be reminded of the girl with the damn list. The last time that had come across her feed, she’d added on there that being pregnant can cause your sweat to turn blue. What if she can never wear white again?

“It’s one of those wonderful motherly instincts, you don’t even think about it being gross when it comes to relieving your baby, like sniffing their diapers or fishing their crap out of the bathtub!”

Poppy pushes herself up from her place on the couch, and makes a dash for the nearest bathroom, hearing Nia excuse her with, “She probably shouldn’t have come, she’s been sick all week. Tell me more about the bathtub thing though, is that like a regular occurrence? You just live in constant fear like that?”

When she’s safely inside, she presses her back to the other side of the door, her shaking body calming as she takes deep breaths and fights past the nausea until she no longer feels the need to throw up.

She tries to think of other things. Clean things. No bodily fluids involved. Fresh laundry and Coconut Breeze candles.

It takes a good couple minutes before she feels okay again.

When she finally opens her clenched eyes, she realises the bathroom she had stumbled into is not in fact the guest bathroom, but the one Elsie and Jared had assigned specifically to their son - and Poppy’s god-son - Jensen, who was given his mother’s surname as his first, but Poppy has always told him he was named after her.

There is sailboat wallpaper, rubber ducks with different costumes lining the bathtub, a little plastic step up to the sink with Paw Patrol characters on the side, and a cabinet covered in stickers.

God bless her cousin for not raising a beige baby, she thinks.

When she gets a closer look, she realises the stickers are little cartoon versions of Harry Potter characters, and she can’t help the little smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth as she smooths her fingers over one of them, making sure the edges stick back down and don’t start to peel.

Nico would give his kids Harry Potter stickers. He’d let them leave them all over the house, would probably let them stick them to his practice gear and his old sticks. He’d play rubber duckies in the bathtub, give each one a little unique voice and would ingrain each character to his memory for every bath time, and blow bubbles at them until they erupted into little dimpled giggles. He’d stand in front of the sink and brush his teeth beside them, singing a 2 minute song he made up in his head so they’d learn to brush them for longer.

It would all come so easy to him.

Oh God.

She should not be thinking about this. Not in her godson’s bathroom, at least, in the middle of her cousin’s baby shower.

There’s a door off to the side, hooks on the back with a couple hooded bath towels - one that looks like a frog and another that looks like a dinosaur - and she finds herself reaching for the handle before she can think too much of it, pushing the door until it opens into Jensen’s room.

He’s sitting on the floor beside his bed, surrounded by little plastic pieces and trying to make sense of the booklet in his lap, and when he hears the door creak open, he looks up in surprise.

“Hey, Auntie Poppy.”

He would usually shoot up when he sees her - would run and jump into her arms and squeeze until he gets bored, would ask her, is that enough? And she would always tell him no so that he would squeeze her again.

It’s their thing.

But he stays sat, this time, his attention diverting immediately back to the Lego bricks in front of him.

“Hey, bud, you okay in here? What are you doing on your own?”

“I’m just playing.”

Jensen never plays on his own. He usually has the attention span of a gnat, and jumps between every activity he can think of, all while clutching the nearest adult’s hand and dragging them along for the ride.

Poppy lowers herself onto her knees beside him, careful not to push down into any of the bricks, and leans onto the palm of her hand. “You mind if I play, too?”

“Sure! I’m building Ron’s car from Harry Potter!”

He shows her the box, that reads Flying Ford Anglia, and she gives a reminiscent smile as she says, “I’ve never seen it.”

“It’s my favourite! Mommy says if I can do this one she’ll get me the train for my birthday.” She doesn’t even let her mind go where it wants. She’s putting a temporary ban on thinking about him until she’s in the safety of her own home, where her mind can’t wander at the sight of tiny pairs of sneakers sat beside matching big ones and baby grows that are no bigger than her forearm. “I’m gonna be 6.”

She knows that. She remembers the Thanksgiving dinner 6 years ago where his mom had announced to their family that she was foregoing college because she was pregnant at 18. She had never been prouder of anyone in her life, if not for taking centre stage at Jensen Thanksgiving, then for the way she had so casually gone back to eating Turkey legs like it was no big deal while both of their parents argued amongst themselves.

“That’s awesome, how can I help?”

“Could you read it to me? I can read, but I can’t read and put it together at the same time. I’m not an octopus.”

Poppy chuckles, taking the little instruction booklet from him and biting her tongue to save from telling him he wouldn’t need more hands to do both things, he’d just have to put the booklet down.

She observes him mostly as he puts the figure together, blue bricks stacking up until they eventually resemble the car in the picture, and he attaches them with a tiny tongue poking out the side of his mouth that reminds her of his mom. She does the same thing when she’s baking, following instructions left in a book by their grandmother and trying to measure things out to the gram.

He isn’t as chatty as he usually is, and she takes a stab in the dark as to what might be the matter.

“Hey, how cool, you’re gonna get to teach your baby sister all about Harry Potter, too!”

Jensen shrugs, a pensive frown on his face as he stays focused on the Lego. “Mommy says she won’t be able to watch movies with me.”

“Not for a little while. Babies just eat, sleep and poop for the first couple of months, I think,”

“Gross,” he turns his nose up, but his eyes flicker up to Poppy’s in amusement. She may not be a mother, but she knows the surefire way to a kid’s good graces - mentioning poop. It works every time.

“Super gross. But eventually, you’re gonna get to teach her about all the cool stuff you like, and she’ll probably love things just ‘cause you do. When I was a kid, I wanted to do everything my big brother did. We went as Ash and Pikachu for Halloween 3 years running, and I’d spend all my allowance on Pokemon cards for his collection.”

“You were a baby sister?” He asks, and she swallows down the hurt at the fact he doesn’t really know his uncle Oliver. Or his first cousin removed, whatever it is that they are. Oli’s eldest, James, is only a year older than Jensen, and they barely know of each other’s existence, just another name in a Christmas card they’re too young to read.

Their family is a minefield of hidden feuds and bad communication skills, but she’d like to think Elsie is attempting to break the generational patterns.

Maybe she could do that.

“Yeah,” Poppy chuckles, clicking the tiny brick into another and checking it against the picture in the booklet. She hasn’t felt like a little sister in a long time. “We’re not all that bad, as long as you’re nice to us.”

“Yeah, you’re pretty cool.” Jensen nods, and he smiles so big that Poppy notices for the first time that he’s finally missing a tooth.

“Your sister will be pretty cool too,” she tells him, resisting the urge to tell him about a few other guys missing teeth that she knows.

“Yeah, when she stops pooping all the time.” He giggles.

“Definitely.”

He continues building his car for a second, until he asks, “Hey, Auntie Poppy?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“How is she coming out?”

“How is she-,” her mouth flops open in shock. Of all the things in the world he wants to come to her about, he has to be joking with this. Talk about timing. “Your mom hasn’t handled that one?”

“Nope. And she won’t tell me how she got in there.”

“Yeah, that’s not really my area of expertise, kid.” If only he was old enough to understand irony. “How do you think she’s gonna come out?”

“I think they’re gonna have to crack mommy like an egg.”

“Oh, that-,” Sounds like something the girl with the list might be interested in, Poppy thinks, her mind going places she hadn’t yet dared to let it go. “That actually makes sense.”

“I knew it.”

Poppy hadn’t realised she had spent the better part of 90 minutes on Jensen’s bedroom floor with him, but it was the only place that felt safe - building Lego cars and skirting around the question of, if my mommy is my mom cause I grew in her belly, then how is my daddy, my dad?

That had genuinely stumped her.

How do you explain genetics to a 5 year old without getting too graphic about it?

She hadn’t been able to argue with the validity of the question - the kid is curious, God help his parents, and she thinks she might have to turn her phone off later to avoid angry calls from Elsie and Jared about why their son is asking them about DMA and Jeans.

She tried to tell him that he was made up of parts of each of them. That he had his mom’s eyes, and her mouth and chin, but he had his dad’s curly hair and his pointed nose. But that had just caused a whole other slew of questions.

And a whole other bunch of thoughts that she was actively trying to fight.

Thoughts of a baby with chocolate brown eyes and hair that goes a little lighter in the sun. Little pudgy arms that cling around broad shoulders, and soft, tiny lips that press wet kisses into a stubbled jaw and giggle at the way it tickles them.

Thoughts of little clumsy legs that will learn to run before they learn to walk, and, when given the chance, will always run straight into muscled arms and a tattooed bicep curling around their tiny frame, a deep laugh ringing in the air between them and dark eyes meeting hers over a mop of fluffy hair.

Thoughts of 6-foot-something someone sitting on the floor with an almost 6 year old, building Harry Potter Lego trains and patiently directing them on what goes where.

For most of those 90 minutes, she hadn’t felt sick. She hadn’t felt nauseous, or panicky or anxious.

She had felt longing, and hopeful, and full.

And as soon as she had left that room, those feelings had swirled into dread again.

At least Nia had herself a good time.

She had won the game of Baby Bump Balloon Pop, which Poppy is glad she had missed - if she had to watch a bunch of exploding baby bumps, she might have had a heart attack - and had used her almighty eavesdropping skills to thrash everyone at Don’t Say Baby - ending up with 16 clothes pegs and winning herself the esteemed prize of a bottle No-secco, which she has been ranting about the whole drive back to Poppy’s apartment.

“I get that it’s a baby shower, but come on, the rest of us can still drink! When did Elsie become such a bore,” she whines as the two of them make it through the front door, Nia throwing her jacket onto the coat rack and Poppy making her way straight over to sit down. “Hey, I thought you said you were feeling better,”

“I am,” Poppy feels okay to know that it’s only a half-lie. She does think she caught some kind of food poisoning initially, and the sweats and shivers had subsided since last week, but she can’t find anything to subdue the queasiness at every strong smell or icky thought that crosses her mind.

“Then why did you flake on me at the party?”

“I didn’t flake, I told you, I was hanging out with Jensen. He was a little down. Also that conversation about snot was too much.”

“Okay, but you were being weird before that. And you’ve hardly spoken the whole way back here.”

“I’m fine.”

“C’mon, Pop, out with it,” Nia sighs as she throws herself into the couch beside Poppy.

“Out with what?” She huffs in response as she works at unzipping her boots.

“Whatever’s got you wound up tighter than a drum, you’ve been acting super weird all day.”

“I haven’t been super weird.” Poppy frowns, throwing the boot she’s just shucked off with a little more passion than is probably warranted, doing little to disprove her best friend’s point.

“You didn’t crack a single joke about how Elsie’s giving her kid a pornstar name. Mia Moore. She’ll be getting bullied for life, Poppy. Even Jared says it with that stupid Italian hand gesture.”

“Maybe I’ve matured,” she shrugs, pushing herself up from the couch and making her way over to the refrigerator, hoping that sticking her head in there for a second might disguise the fact that she is still turning green from waves of nausea.

“Not likely,” Nia obviously follows, slamming the door shut before Poppy can even adjust her eyes to the light. “You’re being weird.”

“Am not, you are.”

“Oh yeah, real mature,” Nia rolls her eyes before narrowing them at her best friend. “You’re being quiet, and you’re clearly freaking out about something, so why don’t we cut out your very obvious internal meltdown and you just tell me what’s going on?”

Poppy swerves around her, reaching out to where a grocery bag sits on top of her counter, and empties the contents until they scatter across the surface in gentle, staggered thuds.

“Holy shit.” Nia breathes out, carding through each box as if she’s taking stock. “You know you only need one of these, right?”

“I didn’t know which one was the best, so I got all of them.”

“I think pregnancy tests are pretty universally reliable, Poppy.”

“Yeah, well, they’re non-refundable, so I’ve decided I’m doing every single one and working out the average.”

“Oh my god, the vomiting,” Nia gasps, as if the situation is only just dawning on her - never mind the multiple boxes of tests Poppy has just unveiled on her kitchen counter. “And you had to change your dress earlier, ‘cause it was making your boobs hurt!”

“I didn’t buy these for a fun evening experiment,” she quips, sarcastically, “My period should have been last week, too.”

“Oh my God!”

“But I also can’t be pregnant,”

“Why not?”

“Maybe because then I’d be carrying the baby of a man who wants nothing to do with me?”

“Okay, calm down, Mrs Theatrical.”

“My karma can’t be that bad. I recycle, I adopt a whole pride of lions in Kenya and my $5 a month contributes to them being safe from poachers! Poachers, Nia! I donate to charity, I don’t steal, I don’t lie, I love thy neighbour,”

“I think you loved thy neighbour a little too much,” Nia cracks, swiftly catching the box that Poppy throws straight at her. “What? You laid that one straight out for me!”

“This is not the time for jokes.”

“You’re right, it’s the time for you to put on your big girl pants and go pee on some sticks.” She holds out the box that had just been launched at her, and Poppy swipes it with a levelling glare. “You’re being ridiculous, Poppy.”

“Fine,” she grunts in displeasure, “But I’m gonna remember how unserious you were about this when it’s your turn for a scare.”

“I have an IUD babe, some of us practice caution when we take hunky men into our beds!” She calls out after her, and Poppy hates how she can still hear her laugh when she slams the door of her bathroom.

“Oh, thank God,” Poppy lets out a sigh of relief once the line forms clearly, the lack of a second allowing her heart rate to slow to a bearable speed and the device in her hands feeling a whole lot lighter than it had a minute ago. “It’s negative!”

“Poppy,” Nia yanks the test from her grip, beyond caring at this point where the piece of plastic has been, and throws it into the pile on the table, “Delusion isn’t going to work for this, that’s one out of fourteen. You know damn well you’re pregnant.”

“But all the boxes say they’re 98% accurate! What if this is the only right one?”

Nia swats at her boob, and Poppy clutches at her chest as the pain merges into the ever-present ache she has felt there for the past week-or-so.

“Ow, don’t do that, I told you they’re sensitive right now!”

“Oh, I wonder why!” She contends, “Poppy, you’ve taken like $100 worth of tests here, how many more do you need to do until you come to terms with the fact that you have a baby growing in there?”

“I don’t know! Maybe you should try one!”

“Pop, come on-,”

“No, seriously, because what if I bought a bunch of bad ones? Like placebos or something? And if you get a false positive, then we would know!”

“Why would they make placebo pregnancy tests?”

“Duh, for money! Big pharma, Ni! It’s a real thing!”

“You have to be joking,” Nia throws her arms up in exasperation, “Poppy, you’re vomiting,” she holds up her thumb, “Your boobs ache,” she adds a finger, “You should have had your period by now,” and another, “and I don’t even have enough fingers to take into account how many pregnancy tests have told you so, you’re pregnant! The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can be serious and figure this out!”

Poppy picks out a fresh test from the last packet and pushes it into Nia’s chest, a stern look on her otherwise panicked features, “Go pee.” She demands, and when Nia levels her with a look back, she adds a desperate, “Please?”

“Fine,” she grumbles, before wagging an authoritative finger at her friend, “But this is the last one either of us are doing, okay? And because you’re being ridiculous, I get to gloat when it’s negative.”

“Yeah, fine,” Poppy shrugs with feigned nonchalance, and as soon as Nia disappears into the bathroom, Poppy starts refilling her bladder for the last test in the packet.

“You are unbelievable,” Nia sighs when she returns a minute later to find her chugging at a bottle of water. She snatches the last unopened test away, stashing it down her bra where Poppy won’t be able to get it.

“What? I drink when I’m nervous!”

“Yeah, tequila. You’re stressing me out. We’re gonna set the timer on this and while it’s going down we’re gonna talk about it.” Nia throws her own test onto the empty side of the coffee table before she gets her phone out and starts a timer for three minutes. “Sit down, and for the love of God, give me that bottle.”

Poppy sits, surrendering the drink to Nia with a frown and throwing herself down onto the couch in child-like stubbornness.

“You’re pregnant. We can sit here all night and take a thousand tests, and they’re all gonna tell you the same thing,”

“Not all of them-,”

“Shut up. Do you want to have a baby, yes or no?”

“Nia,” Poppy whines, “It’s not that-,”

“Yes or no, Poppy?”

“Fine, yes!” It almost shocks her how easy the answer comes out.

“Do you want to have this baby?”

“Yeah,” she pouts, tears pricking at her eyes as she accepts her reality for the first time since the thought had so innocently been forced into her mind by Nico’s mom.

She wants the pudgy armed, brown eyed, giggling ball of joy she had conjured up in her brain earlier.

She wants to wrap it up in fluffy animal themed bath towels, pull the hood up just above its eyes and take a million pictures, and tickle at the back of it’s chunky little legs until dimples form in it’s puffy cheeks and her apartment is filled with the sounds of squeaky little laughter.

And she knows that it isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. She knows she’ll never sleep a full night again, knows she’ll never have free time to do what she wants or that she might lose every ounce of sanity she has left, but she feels like the good stuff outweighs the bad.

“Then why the hell are you going crazy, Pop?” Nia sits right beside her, arm wrapping around her to console what could potentially be a weeping, hysterical shit-show.

“Because it’s a gigantic mess, Ni!” She whines, “My hormones are going apeshit, and all I want is to go to Nico, and to tell him what’s going on, but he doesn’t want me, and this is gonna ruin everything! He’s gonna hate me, he’s gonna want nothing to do with me, and I’m gonna have to quit my job, and then I won’t be able to afford living here and raising a baby on my own, so I’ll have to move back home, and that means this poor innocent clump of cells inside me is gonna grow up in a house with my mother because it’s own mom is hopeless and then the baby will resent me because I can’t do this on my own!”

“Poppy, slow down, breathe,”

She knows she’s hyperventilating, but she can’t stop. Can’t slow down until she gets it all out.

“Nico’s gonna hate me. He’s gonna think I’m trapping him, and he’s gonna think I’m crazy and obsessed with him and maybe I am, you know, maybe this is all my fault and deep down a part of me wanted this to happen because who in their right mind doesn’t even stop to think hey, you probably shouldn’t be coming inside me when we haven’t even talked about it,” she sees Nia wince somewhere out of the corner of her eye, “and he’s gonna blame me for getting in the way of his perfect life with his pretty girlfriend and she’s gonna hate me-,”

Nia squirts her with the bottle, underestimating the spout and pretty much covering Poppy’s entire face with water until it’s dripping from her eyelashes and she has to huff it out of her nose.

“Nia, what the fuck?!” Poppy frowns, looking down at the mess of water that covers her legs and is dripping onto her couch.

“You’re going insane! I didn’t know how else to get you to stop aside from slapping you, and I can’t hit a pregnant lady!”

“But you can waterboard her?!”

“Oh my God, how dramatic can you be?”

“Uh, I think I get a pass right now!” Poppy scoffs, swiping at the droplets running down her face and splashing them over at Nia in retaliation. “You’re not being very helpful.”

“That’s because you’re being stupid.” Nia levels, “You’re not hopeless, Poppy, you’re the smartest, strongest person I know. If that idiot can’t see that, then it’s his own loss, and if he wants nothing to do with you then you’ll be fine. You don’t need him. We can figure this out, you and me together. We can find a place and we can live together again, I’ll be the dad, I’ll take care of you.”

“Ni, I can’t ask you to do that,”

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you.” She asserts, taking Poppy’s still wet hands in her own, “And I’m also telling you that as mad as I am at him right now, Nico isn’t the type of guy that would let you do this on your own, Poppy. You know for a fact that I won’t let a man make a fool out of either of us more than once, so I know I’m not wrong when I say that he is not going to hate you, he isn’t going to blame you.”

“He still doesn’t want me.”

“You don’t know that, Poppy.” Nia tries to reason with her, “You didn’t let him tell you what he wanted.”

The shrill sound of Nia’s alarm interrupts the moment, and Poppy sniffles as her best friend reaches for her phone and picks the test up while she’s there.

She hands the test to Poppy, who sighs as she looks over the result, and rolls her eyes before huffing out a jeering, “You win. Congratulations, you’re not pregnant.”

Nia is too busy typing away at her phone to respond, and after a minute of Poppy glaring at her - annoyed that her focus has diverted elsewhere and more annoyed that she has to be right all the time - her face breaks out in a celebratory grin.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” she huffs out a breathy chuckle, the grin widening with every passing second.

“What? What could possibly be funny about this?”

Nia turns the device in her hand so Poppy can see the screen - a picture of a small dusting of what looks like crushed black pepper. It's one of those websites that compares the size of a baby in the womb to different foods.

“Your baby is the size of a Poppy seed,” Nia’s face settles into a soft, loving smile, her eyes rounding in awe as she awaits Poppy’s reaction.

Poppy reads the description below.

At four weeks, the foetus is about 2mm or 0.3 inches long, and weighs less than a gram but is growing rapidly in your womb!

“Holy shit.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come up with you?”

The inside of Nia’s car is warm and comforting, the heat cranked so high that Poppy doesn’t want to leave into the cold, even if it’s just for the few seconds between the vehicle and the entrance to Nico’s building.

It’s nothing to do with the nerve-wracking conversation she is about to have.

Nothing at all.

“I’ve got to put on my big girl pants, remember? Let him tell me what he wants before I decide it in my head.”

“I’ll be here if you need me,” she pats Poppy’s thigh in consolation, “And if I need to come up there and kick his ass, just give me a call.”

“I will.”

“Good luck!”

Poppy shuffles out of the car and holds her jacket tighter around her as she makes her way over to the doors of the apartment building, harsh winds whipping at her face and causing her to grimace before she makes it to safety, the doors pressing closed behind her in a gentle thud.

She’s surprised to see Lionel still sat at his desk, a little later than he normally works, but the familiar face gives her a little bit of reprieve, and the friendly smile he flashes her way calms her rampant heart.

“Hi, Poppy,” he stands to greet her, “You here to see the boys?”

“Nico, actually,” she responds, and watches as he presses his button for the elevator without question, typing something else while he waits for the notification it’s on its way down. “You’re here late.”

“So are you.” He gives a knowing smile back, looking at her over the top of his glasses and causing her skin to turn warm. “Our night guy, Evan, just had a baby, I stick around until he can do bedtime with his wife.”

“That’s sweet of you.” She ignores the lump in her throat at the mention of babies. “I bet it’s nice of him to still get that time in the routine.”

She wonders if that’s something Nico would do - fight to make it home for every bedtime, getting one of the guys to pick up his media responsibilities after a game so he could give their baby an evening bottle and a kiss goodnight.

“He makes sure I have coffee and a donut waiting for me on the desk when my shift starts in the morning, so I can’t complain.”

“Oh, wins all around then,” she chuckles, and thanks him as he walks with her to the elevator.

“It sure is, you have a nice evening, Poppy, I’ve sent Mr Hischier a message that you’re on your way up.”

“Thanks, Lionel,” she hums, appreciative that she isn’t springing a visit on him entirely out of nowhere, now. “Get home safe!”

Lionel presses the buttons for her, and gives her a cheerful wave as the doors close between them, leaving her to her own anxiety for company.

The elevator ride up is torturously slow, the numbers rising at a mocking pace, and she can feel her heart hammering with every second that passes. When the doors open, she doesn’t immediately step out, and has to reach a shaking hand to stop them closing again and going back down.

As much as she is dreading this, she needs to get it over with.

Once she has told him, it’s done.

He can tell her what he wants and she can just live with it.

No more running through every nightmarish scenario in her head, no more imagining the other side of conversations and mentally booking flights to faraway countries to get away from her problems.

She will tell him she’s pregnant, and then the ball is in his court. Or the puck is in his rink. Whatever.

Her feet feel heavy as she moves toward his apartment, and when she’s stood in front of his door, she raps her knuckles harshly against the wood before she can convince herself not to.

And then she waits.

And waits.

And continues to wait until it starts to frustrate her, knocking again with the side of her fist in jerky movements that rattle the surface.

He’s definitely home, she thinks - she’d shamelessly stalked him on Find My Friends. Lionel had sent the message she was coming up. He has to be home.

Unless he’s down at Jack and Luke’s place.

She isn’t telling him there. God knows what those two would have to say about it.

What if she’s there?

Oh God, she hadn’t even thought about that.

What if he isn’t answering because he doesn’t want Talia to see her there.

Shit.

Before she can duck and run, before her brain can even send out the direction to get the hell out of there, the door swings open, and she clumsily stumbles back with a surprised gasp.

Nico stands on the other side, skin dripping wet, steam coming off him like something out of a movie, and a towel clutched with a tight fist around his waist that also has a grasp on his phone. His hair is soaked, slicked back out of his face and her eyes are drawn to a droplet of water that trails down from his jaw, beneath a gap where the gold chain he is still wearing doesn’t quite sit flush against the base of his neck, and she watches it disappear into the tuft of dark hair that has grown in the centre of his chest.

“Poppy,” he’s breathless, like he’s just booked it down the hall to get to her, no doubt leaving a trail of soggy footprints in his path, “Hi.”

“S-sorry,” she stutters, making a serious mental effort to keep her eyes on his face. “Is this a bad time?”

“No!” He exclaims, eyebrows shooting up in panic, “No, you’re fine, come in.”

“Are you sure? I can come back,”

Nico steps back, giving her space to come in and tilting his head in a silent invitation. “Positive,” he watches as she takes a cautious step into his apartment, and he closes the door softly behind her. “Let me just,” he gestures to his body as if she isn’t actively trying to avoid looking at it, and she presses her lips together to save herself from audibly gulping. “I’ll get dressed. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll just be a second.”

Jesus Christ.

If Poppy’s heart wasn’t about to beat into oblivion before, it sure is now.

He rushes off down the hall toward his bedroom, and she steps a little further into the open plan of his apartment, casting her eyes in a quick glance across the room.

She can’t help herself - one of the few traits inherited from her mother - if she’s invited into someone else’s home, she’s going to be nosey.

She hasn’t spent much time in Nico’s apartment, before. Back before Summer last year, most of their time together was either spent out or round at her place. He had always said it was for convenience - he would rather be the one that had to drive home, and her place was closer to everything else so it just made sense - but she still thinks in the few times she had seen it, it looks different.

He’s rearranged the furniture, he has a new couch, his kitchen has a new coffee machine. He used to have a couple pictures of his family around, but she can’t see them from where she is.

In fact, she can’t really see anything personal.

If she compares it to her own cluttered space, his apartment looks fresh out of a catalogue. Stone walls, grey fabrics, brown leathers, random red pieces like the odd book and some candles, like he’d picked a page out of Bachelor Pad Weekly and handed it over to a designer with the sole instruction to copy and paste.

There’s a floor to ceiling shelving unit that seems to act as a separator, and it has random sculptures and trinkets she can’t see him picking out for himself.

She tries not to think too much about how his place differs from her own. How she still has pictures of the two of them scattered in every room.

Guys don’t put as much thought into stuff like that.

She tells herself as much as she’s reading the spines of some of the books that line the shelves - hardbacks that look more like decoration than anything he would actually read - and she finds herself fiddling with the bunch of plastic in her pocket to ground herself.

There isn’t a single feminine thing about the place - almost like he’s scrubbed clean any trace of a woman ever living with him, which shouldn’t ease the tension in her shoulders as much as it does.

She isn’t here to worry about his choice of decor, or who may or may not have had a say in it.

She isn’t here to question why she sees him in every corner of her home and she is nowhere in his.

She’s here to talk.

“Sorry,” Nico returns, and she swivels where she’s stood to take him in. Sweatpants slung low on his hips, a slight gap between those and the hem of the t-shirt that sticks to his every muscle like second skin. A towel held up to his head to try and drain out the excess moisture. “I wasn’t expecting company so I hopped in the shower, I was ignoring the knocking until I saw the text to say it was you.”

“Yeah, I,” her tongue swipes at her parched lips, and she blinks away the daze he always seems to cast upon her. “I figured we need to talk.”

He takes an eager step forward, gesturing over to his couch and waiting for her to perch down uncomfortably on the edge before he sits on the cushion beside her - keeping a respectable distance between the two of them.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he seems nervous, and it makes her chest feel tight. “I wanted to apologise for the other day. I pretty much cornered you when you asked me for space and I didn’t mean to push you. Especially when you weren’t feeling great. If it helps, my mom laid into me when I drove her back to her hotel.”

“It’s alright,” she squeaks out, meekly, thinking that maybe if she lets him off the hook for that, he’ll let her off the hook for this.

“It’s not. I’ve dealt with this whole thing so wrong, I need you to know I didn’t mean what I said that night in your apartment. Y’know, about-,” he shakes his head as if trying to gather his thoughts, “About what we did. I don’t think we made a mistake. I made one, with how I handled everything after, I-,” she knows she shouldn’t let him ramble on, shouldn’t let him think she needs him to beg for her forgiveness before he knows the full extent of what he’s asking, but she’s spent 4 weeks imagining what he might want to say to her, and she wants to hear it. “You were right the other day, I haven’t been a good friend to you, Poppy, I was selfish and you deserve better. You deserve to make your own decisions and I’m sorry I took that from you.”

Poppy is usually better at catching herself before she cries in front of anyone else - the warning signs of an ache at the back of her throat and the corner of her eyes stinging coming up in advance - but this time, her lip starts to tremble before she’s able to get a grasp on her emotions, and a sob racks through her before she throws her head into her hands.

“Whoa, hey,” she feels a large, warm hand stroking at her back, and feels the couch dip as Nico shuffles closer to her, their knees knocking and his arm swinging around her shaking body. “Please don’t cry,”

“I’m so sorry,”

“No, Poppy, you have nothing to be sorry for-“

“I don’t want you to be mad at me.” She cries, her voice strained as if she’s choking back another sob as she looks up at him, arms cradling herself for a slight reprieve of comfort.

“Why would I be mad?” He questions, his arm still rubbing soothingly at hers as she unravels in front of him. “What’s going on, Poppy? I’m worried about you,”

“Do you promise me you won’t hate me?”

“Mohn,” Nico sighs, running his spare hand through his still-damp hair and making sure it stays slicked back.

“Please?”

“I could never hate you,” He assures her, and, as resolute as he sounds, she tilts her head, urging him to say what she wants to hear. “I promise.”

She takes a second to even out her breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth, until she no longer feels like she’s about to implode, and Nico waits, watching with his own bated breath.

“I uhm,” she takes a shaky inhale, trying to build the courage to come out and just say it, but her mouth just bops open like a fish, the words refusing to come out. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the handful of tests she had haphazardly stashed in there, before reaching forward and dropping them carelessly onto the coffee table - the plastic scattering across the surface and making a clattering sound against the solid wood.

Nico’s eyes drop to the sticks that are splayed out in front of him, his own words failing him as if he daren’t speak them into existence. His eyes close a few times in forced, hard blinks, as if he’s trying to determine the reality of the situation, and he reaches out to take one of them in his hand before she presses her shaky fingers to his arm in an attempt to stop him.

“I peed on those, I wouldn’t touch ‘em.”

He ignores the warning, picking up another, bringing them up to his face so he can read what he must already know they all say. The dim light of his living room does little to mask the shock on his face.

“You’re-,” his words drift off, and his eyes flicker back to the two tests left.

“I’m pregnant.” Her voice cracks as she says it, holding back a choking sob that strains her throat. She can no longer stomach the thought of not saying it out loud.

Silence lingers between them like a rubber band, ready to snap. She can feel every liquid ounce of blood rushing through her body, can probably hear the whoosh of it, too, if she focuses hard enough, and she thinks she can see a vein pop in his neck.

“Please say something.”

“It’s mine?”

Their eyes meet, his round and concerned, her’s glassy and afraid, and all she can do is nod.

She doesn’t take offence to the question, knowing he has every right to ask what he needs to. She’s spent the last hour trying to prep herself for the possibility of what he might ask, for an onslaught of potential accusations and finger-pointing.

Even if she only took the tests today, she’s had days to think about this. To ask her own questions, fathom her own feelings, she owes him the leniency to do the same.

She and Nia had gone through some pretty serious breathing exercises before she drove Poppy out here just to calm her down in preparation for it all.

“I haven’t been with anybody else.”

“I didn’t use protection,” he stares blankly ahead as he speaks, as if he’s running through the events of that night in his head, the tests still clutched between his thumb and fingers. She shakes her head, and hopes he can see the action in his peripheral, because her tongue currently feels like a paperweight in the dead centre of her mouth, and she probably couldn’t speak if she tried. “And you’re not-,” he seems just as much at a loss, “Protecting yourself?”

If it were anyone else asking her that kind of question, she thinks she’d be a little more on edge, but she knows he isn’t asking to shame her.

Still, she can’t help the guilt that racks through her entire body. “I was trying a new birth control last year, and it uhm-,” she exhales a shuddered breath, “It didn’t really work for me, so I stopped. I was due back to see my doctor around Christmas, but I pushed it back, and then I- I forgot.” Tears line her eyes again, glossing them over completely until a fat droplet falls straight down her cheek and drips down onto her leg.

“Holy shit.”

She can’t exactly blame him for that response, either. She had said the exact same thing. Nia had even reacted the same way.

“I’m so, so sorry, Nico,” she tries to suppress a sob, but can’t stop the onset of tears, now, her head falling into her hands as her body begins to tremble.

Nico pulls Poppy into him immediately, his arms wrapping around her shaking frame, and he presses his head into the top of hers. Large hands stroke comfortingly up and down her back, trying to hold her as tight as is comfortable so she knows he’s there for her, shushing her and taking slow, measured breaths in the hopes her body instinctively copies him.

Her body melts into his, soaking up his warmth until it eases all the tension in her muscles, and all she tries to focus on is the rhythmic motion of his touch on her spine.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Mohn,” he mutters into her temple, pressing his lips in a gentle kiss to the skin there. “It’s gonna be okay, please don’t cry.”

He sways her gently, lifting a hand to stroke her hair and keeps her in his hold until she starts to properly calm down - sobs becoming sniffles, tremors becoming the occasional shake, and her breaths evening out so she no longer seems like she’s hyperventilating.

Somewhere in her panic, she had taken to clutching at his shirt, the fabric bundled up so tight between her fingers that they start to ache, and she can feel the sharp press of her own nails in her palms. She lays them flat against his chest, ignoring the growing sting she feels when she applies pressure to the crescent-shaped indents, and uses him for leverage to push herself back a little - only going far enough that she can still feel his arms around her, even if they’ve loosened up a little.

She must look a complete mess - lips swollen, nose snotty, eyes red-raw - but he looks at her only with concern rather than any kind of disgust. He brings a hand forward to swipe at the remaining dampness on her cheek, and keeps it there to cup the side of her jaw, stroking tenderly at her face just as he had done the other day, when she had felt like she was floating out of her body and he had grounded her.

“You took those today?” He gestures towards the sticks that are still on the table, the others that had been in his grasp before discarded somewhere into the cushions of the couch when he had taken her into his arms. She nods, meeting his dark eyes and watching as they flicker between the features of her own face. “You didn’t know when we spoke the other day?”

She shakes her head, vehemently. “I wouldn’t have tried to push you away if I’d have even thought I could be pregnant Nico, I swear. I thought I was just sick.”

“You would have had every right to push me away, Poppy.”

“I came here as soon as I knew for sure.” She places her hand over his, her thumb swiping over the knuckles on his hand and her fingers curling around his own digits. “I mean, I was kind of losing my mind so it took me 13 positives to know, but-,”

“You took 13 tests?” When she takes note of his face, he seems like he’s trying to fight a smile. She hadn’t even realised before.

13 positives to finally convince her, and a baby the size of a Poppy seed, it was always meant to be.

“14 technically, but one was negative,” her lips twist then in slight embarrassment. “I even made Nia take one.”

“Nia knows?”

The would-be smile drops immediately, and the frown that forms on his face almost stops her heart in its tracks.

“I needed somebody to hold my hand, Nico.” She reasons, head tilting and trying to meet his eyes again, his hand drops from her face, hers falling limply with it, and the look he gives her back is one of resigned acceptance.

“It should have been me,” he mutters, and when she parts her lips to respond, he shakes his head, “I know I’m the one who hurt you and pushed you away, Poppy, I just-,” he sighs, he isn’t trying to blame her, he’s trying blame himself. “I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

She threads her fingers through his again, bringing their hands between them and holding his firmly in her lap. “I would have come to you, Nico, I just didn’t want to stress you out if it turned out to be negative.”

“Even after what I did?” His voice is the one that’s strained, now, and the sound plucks straight at her heart strings.

He had hurt her - she knows he understands that - but she doesn’t want him to hurt. She’s never wanted that for him. And with the regret in his eyes and the conflict in his tone, she sees that they’ve both been hurting regardless of what she wanted, so she nods.

If she had been left to her own devices, earlier - if the baby shower hadn’t conjured up so much anxiety that she erupted on her best friend - she would have ended up in this exact spot. Poppy knows that with everything in her. She would always have come to him.

When she had had her not-so-mini meltdown with Nia earlier, it was his reassurance she craved.

“You wouldn’t have stressed me out.” He tells her, squeezing back at her hand, and she knows he isn’t putting on a brave face just to make her feel better. “In fact, I feel weirdly calm right now.”

“Yeah, I think you might have calmed me down, too.”

His constant touch, his serene demeanour, he’s done everything in him to make her feel relaxed.

He hasn’t raised his voice, hasn’t pushed her away, hasn’t blamed her or shamed her or made her feel like she is a burden in any way.

He’s just held her in his arms and told her it will be okay, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to show him how much she appreciates it.

She had made herself entirely hysterical with an abundance of what ifs and hypotheticals that she knew in her heart he would never live up to.

If she had been thinking rationally at all, earlier, she’d have known he wouldn’t get mad, wouldn’t hate her, wouldn’t react in any way other than the way he has. With tender-hearted acceptance and love born from empathy and the long-withstanding trust they share for each other.

Her mind had spiralled so far beyond the realm of possibility that it had created a version of him in her head that he would never be. One that would have shut her out, left her to deal with her emotions alone. Even when he’d pushed her away the last time, she had been the one to shut the door.

“I-,” he starts to say something, but is interrupted by the buzz of his phone on the coffee table. “Why is Nia calling me?”

“Shit,” Poppy curses, shooting up and dropping his hand in the process, “She’s waiting downstairs for me, she was gonna drive me home.” She pats around her pockets before realising her phone isn’t in them, and it dawns on her she must have left it in the passenger seat of Nia’s car - a really useful spot for it to be.

“It’s alright,” Nico focuses more on consoling her than answering the call, and it rings out before he remembers he should probably have picked it up. “She’s parked on the street?”

“Yeah, right out front.”

“Wait here,” he commands with gentle authority, a hand on her shoulder pushing her softly back down onto the couch. “We need to talk about this, I don’t want you to be home alone, you can stay here tonight,”

“Maybe I sh-,”

“I’ll go down and tell her,” he says with finality, leaving the living area in search of a hoodie he can shrug on.

“Nico, she isn’t exactly your biggest fan right now,” Poppy warns, following him toward the door to his apartment with a slight bout of panic.

If he goes out there, there’s no telling what Nia might say to him. She’s been on one for weeks about how disappointed she has been in him, and he could be marching straight into the firing line without a clue as to what is waiting for him out there. And he might return with his defences raised.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be back in a few minutes, just make yourself comfortable, okay?”

He doesn’t really give Poppy much of a choice before he’s dashing out of his apartment, and she doesn’t exactly have the energy to chase him.

She steps back around the couch, feeling a little out of place again as he has, for the second time in one night, left her to her own devices in his space.

She starts to pace, feet padding softly around the pattern of the rug, focused entirely on matching up her steps to the patches within the fabric until she starts to get dizzy.

Then, she finds herself looking around again. Snooping around shelves, eyeing up the cabinet where he keeps odd bits of Devils memorabilia, newspaper cut outs of his biggest games and even a patch of a Switzerland jersey framed in dark wood.

The rest of the space is minimal, as she had taken notice of before. A couple generic pieces of artwork, nothing too personal anywhere other than that cabinet. A large mirror hung on the wall, that she doesn’t really want to look in, through fear of catching sight of her ghastly reflection, but something else captures her attention in it, entirely.

She turns quicker than she probably should, and her lips part as she steps closer to the wall that had been behind her.

She’d been too focused on her thoughts before - hadn’t noticed it in her initial snooping.

A landscape canvas, framed in the same dark wood as everything else he had in the room that had been a personal touch, large enough to be the only artwork on that wall - a focal piece in the heart of his apartment.

A patch of dainty red flowers seemingly waving in the breeze beside a picturesque coastal view, peaceful waters and some tiny sailboats in the background.

And beneath it, a small plaque just above the base of the frame that reads; Childe Hassam. Poppies, Isles of Shoals, 1891.

Nico

Nico has never really given much thought to having children, before.

He doesn’t have any problem with kids - he enjoys his mentoring sessions, loves meeting the kids who come to games donning his name on their back and looking at him like he’s their hero, and will always go out of his way to meet fans if he hears there’s a bunch of kids excited to meet him.

But being a part of one of the youngest teams in the leagues means he doesn’t exactly have a lot of dad friends. Sure, a couple of the guys have kids - they bring them to games, to team events and he’s met his fair share of them at family skates, but he isn’t that actively involved in any of their lives.

Whenever he pictures his future, it’s really just hockey. It’s captaining his team all the way to lifting the cup, it’s winning gold in the Worlds or the Olympics, representing his beloved home country and succeeding at the top level with his friends.

And if he’s ever thought about anything outside of that, it’s just been experiencing as many new things as he can before he doesn’t have those kinds of opportunities anymore. Travelling, flitting around Europe with his friends back home, climbing mountains, going to festivals, trying his hand at whatever sport he can.

He’s never had any inclination for that to change.

Until the thought of having children with Poppy fell into his lap. Or onto his coffee table in the form of a handful of positive pregnancy tests.

And once the initial shock had subsided, once his brain had comprehended the switch between missing her and screaming not to let her go, he had found comfort in the concept of knowing that something about his future was now an almost-certain.

Poppy will be a part of it.

And he will be a part of hers.

It’s with the conviction of those facts that he finds himself jogging across the street to Nia’s Mazda with misplaced confidence.

Poppy had tried to warn him that she wouldn’t be welcoming and he had shrugged it off, knowing already how pissed her best friend was going to be with him.

A couple nights after she had kicked him out of her apartment, in the depths of his despair and on a lonely evening in a hotel room in Tampa, all he could think of doing to make himself feel better after a loss was to check up on her. Every time he had tried to see her at the Rock the first few days that week before they had gone on the road, she had practically ran the other way, and so as he lay in his hotel bed, muscles aching, mind racing, heart hurting, he had taken to stalking her instagram to see what she had been up to while he had been away.

Her story had been of Nia, the two of them had gone together to get their nails done, and when Nico had clicked on where Nia was tagged in the hope that maybe she had posted a picture of Poppy, it had taken him to a private account he no longer had the privilege of following.

She had removed him.

And as he raps his knuckles against her car window, he can see why.

She’s angry.

“I didn’t call you so that you’d come down here, I called to check on my best friend.” She snaps, the brisk winter air invading her car and making the annoyed huff she gives come out in a misty cloud.

“She’s fine, she’s gonna stay over-,”

“Like hell she is,” she goes to unbuckle her belt, and when she reaches for the handle of the door to open it, Nico promptly pushes it back shut. “Let me out.”

“Come on, Nia,” Nico sighs, “Poppy’s okay, I got her to calm down and we need to talk about things, I don’t want you having to wait out here all night until we do.”

“Right, ‘cause the last time you two had a sleepover, it turned out so well for her.”

Nico finds himself clenching his jaw, not in anger but in shame. Yet another reminder from another person just how much he has messed this all up.

“I’m gonna wait here until I know this is what she wants to do,” Nia holds out Poppy’s phone, and Nico takes it, immediately thrusting it into the warmth of his pocket. “You make sure she texts me so I know you’re not holding her hostage up there. We have a code. If she doesn’t send it to me in the next five minutes, I’ll literally scale your building to find you and make you hurt in ways you can’t even comprehend.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

He misses the way Luke had subtly threatened him back in the locker room. That was a lot less violent, and while he had taken it seriously at the time, he was a lot less scary than Nia.

She narrows her eyes at him, and he tries to morph his face into one that reflects the gravity of the situation.

He has no intentions of ever making her sad again. He knows that. Hell, Nia probably knows that deep down.

“Thank you for being there for her.” He knows it’s a risky thing to say - Nia and Poppy have been friends since their childhood, there would never be a question over her being there for Poppy - but he’s hoping that she understands what he’s trying to get at. “With the tests and all, holding her hand. I’m glad she has you.”

“You won’t be glad if you don’t get back upstairs in time,” she shoos him away with the flick of her hand, and before he can fully jog back across the street, she calls back out to him. “Hey Nico,” he turns and watches as she leans out of her window a little, voice shouting out as if she has no worries about the repercussions of threatening him so brazenly, “If you ever make my best friend cry again, there isn’t a corner of this Earth that you’ll be safe in, do you understand?”

“I understand.” He nods, before he dashes back into the safety of his building.

Despite the visceral way in which his life has just been threatened, he finds himself walking with a newfound spring in his step, bounding through the lobby and sending Lionel a friendly salute as he passes him, the old man shaking his head fondly in return.

The elevator flies straight up to his floor, and he’s back inside the warmth of his apartment in no time - all that much warmer now that he has his favourite girl back inside.

“Have you ever seen the movie Taken?” He huffs as he pulls off his hoodie, his head popping out of the neck of the garment in a way that makes his hair fluff out. “I’m telling you, Nia could give Liam Neeson a run for his money. She’s scary.”

He finds Poppy stood in his living room, staring at the wall - not exactly where he had left her but she’s never been one to sit still for too long.

“Poppy?”

“I like your painting.” Her voice is much softer than it had been, before. A little deeper, less strained, like she’s found comfort and isn’t as anxious to speak anymore, which delights him just a little. The energy in the room has shifted since he had left, and what he has returned to is comfortable and serene.

He steps in line beside her, eyes cast upon the canvas she is admiring, and he feels his lips twitch upward. “My mom got it for me,” he chuckles, stepping just the slightest bit closer. “She said my place lacked character.”

She had said some other things, too, about how she’d seen the painting and it had immediately reminded her of him and how it would bring some much needed colour to his apartment, and make it feel more like home but saying those things feels like overkill, and he thinks he’s shared enough for now.

Plus, Poppy knows what the painting means, she doesn’t need him to spell it out for her.

He needs to keep some of his dignity in tact.

“Sounds about right,” Poppy mutters with an astute smile.

The silence that falls between the two of them is one of familiarity and understanding, and he nudges playfully at her side before stepping away.

“I told Nia you’d be staying here. She says you need to text her your code before she murders me.”

“How long did she give you?”

“Five minutes,”

“Dang,” she checks the time quickly on the screen, “I think I might have forgotten it.”

“You’re not funny, Poppy.” He responds, but he’s sure the fond shake of his head and the way he battles the oncoming smile gives him away. “You have a minute left before I’m snatching that back and assuming your code is please don’t kill my baby daddy.”

“That’s a good one.” The smile she gives this time is tired, and for the first time all night, he takes in just how exhausted she looks. Shoulders slumped, shadows under her eyes, slow blinks every time she looks up at him.

He watches as she types her message to Nia, a feeling of contentment settling in the pit of his stomach despite the intensity of the situation.

She’s here. She’s making jokes. She’s looking him in the eye and smiling like he never hurt her.

She’s carrying his baby.

However small it might be, a part of him is growing within her, and she doesn’t seem all that perturbed by the idea.

He knows that there’s a lot more to talk about, for him to think about even, but he’s content for now just knowing that.

“I think you should get some sleep,” he suggests, his tone comforting and his cadence smooth, “We can talk more tomorrow, but you look beat, Poppy.”

“Yeah, I haven’t really been sleeping right lately.”

“You can take my bed,” he offers, “My mattress is like sleeping on a cloud,”

“No, I can’t kick you out of your bed,”

“I’ll sleep in the spare, it’s fine,”

“No, I’ll sleep in there, I don’t mind!”

“I shoved a kit bag in there before we broke up for All-Stars, before I got the chance to get it washed, I don’t think you’ll get on too well with how that room smells, Poppy.”

“Oh,” she pouts, an adorable frown forming on her face as Nico finds himself almost blushing at the sight of it. “Gross.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “Do you want me to make you anything before you go to sleep?”

“Were you gonna eat?”

“No, I was gonna head to bed early, I have an early morning training session with a couple of the guys. But I don’t mind cooking for you if you’re hungry,”

“No, that’s fine,” she shakes her head, looking up at him with a soft smile, “Nia and I ate before she brought me here. Are you sure you want me to stay if you have plans?”

“Yeah,” he answers with shameless urgency, “I’ll be back early, I can bring you breakfast.”

She bites at the corner of her mouth like she usually does when she’s thinking too much, and he reaches out to swipe his thumb at the side of her chin to pull her lip from the clutches of her teeth.

“I want you here, Poppy. I want to talk about this properly, after you’ve had a good night’s rest and you’re not upset.”

“Okay.” She breathes, “I’ll stay.”

“C’mon, I’ll find you something to wear to bed.”

He holds out his hand, expecting her to swerve it and grasp at his arm instead, but she slides her fingers between his and lets him guide her through his apartment to his bedroom.

When they’re both inside, he manoeuvres her to sit on the edge of his bed while he looks through his closet, and comes back out with some boxers and an old t-shirt. Poppy always wears shorts when she’s at home, and he figures she’ll be more comfortable in these than any sweatpants he could find. “Here you go, I promise they’re clean.”

“I trust you,” she snorts as she takes the garments from his clutches and stands to change in his en-suite.

Nico follows her in, and when she turns to question him, he opens up the medicine cabinet above his sink. “I don’t have a toothbrush for you but I have spare heads for mine,” he offers one out to her from the pack, one that has a blue band at the bottom so she’ll be able to tell the difference when she takes the head he uses off. “There’s soap in there too, and clean washcloths if you wanna take a shower. But if you need anything just let me know and I can pick it up for you on my way home in the morning.”

Before he can step back to head out, Poppy throws her arms around him, discarding the clothes he had given her to the floor and pressing her body firmly into his.

His own arms circle around her waist, tightening around her frame as his large hands press into her back to keep her close. She’s raised up on her tip toes, her face is shoved into his neck, and he presses his lips to the side of her head, closing his eyes to bask in how good it feels and taking a deep breath of the faint smell of her coconut shampoo.

She pulls away after a minute or two with a quiet sniffle, but only puts a little distance between them before she looks up at him with tears brimming her eyes again.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Poppy,” he reaches a hand to wipe at a stray tear, “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

“I was really scared earlier,” she hiccups out, “I was driving myself crazy, I was driving Nia crazy, and I-,” her lip trembles, and she shakes her head as if to rid herself of the onslaught of emotions, “I should have just come straight to you. I’m sorry you weren’t the first to know.”

“Hey, no,” he gently grabs either side of her face, stroking at her cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs, “You have nothing to be sorry for, I mean it.”

“But I-,”

“I like how you told me.” He affirms to her - and as much as he had wanted to be the first person who knew, earlier, he knows he means it. Nia is Poppy’s person, if there was one other person in the world he would be okay with knowing over him, it would be her. As much as he likes to think he would have been able to make her feel better in the moment if she was panicking, he doesn’t entirely know if he wouldn’t have panicked himself if things weren’t already confirmed. If he would have slipped up and made her feel worse or said something stupid. “You throwing your little pee sticks down onto my coffee table like some kind of performance art and telling me not to touch them after I already had. It’s kind of funny.”

She giggles, glassy eyes crinkling in the corners until they push a tear that runs into his thumb.

She places her own hands on top of his. “You still haven’t washed your hands, by the way.”

“Shit, sorry,” he grimaces, immediately taking them off of her skin. “I’ll let you get ready, I’m across the hall if you need anything, and I should be back before 11. I’ll bring you whatever you’re hungry for.”

“Okay, I’ll try not to vomit everywhere in the morning while I wait for you to come home.”

Come home. His feels like his heart does a somersault in his chest, bouncing off of each rib that protects it in its place, and the feeling reverberates throughout his entire body.

“I appreciate that.”

He takes a hold of her face again, his fingers tucked behind her ears as he pulls her head to his lips, pressing a firm and affectionate kiss to her crown, just like he used to whenever they said goodbye.

And in a way that melts his thumping heart, she does the same, bringing his face down to her lips to press them into the warm skin of his forehead.

“Goodnight, Nico,” she hums, her eyes sparkling and her lips spread into a fond smile.

“Sweet dreams, Mohn,” he replies, feeling the press of the dimples in his cheeks and the rush of blood to his head.

When he retreats to his spare bedroom, and collapses onto the firmer-than-he-would-like mattress, he can’t stop the surprising curve of his lips, a soft smile etching itself into his features that feels like it could be a permanent fixture.

He should be terrified. His heart should be beating out of his chest, he should have broken out in a cold sweat and not been able to form words. He should be panicked out of his mind and sick to his stomach.

But there’s a girl he loves more than anything laying in his bed in the room beside his, she’s wearing his clothes, her head is on his pillow, she is wrapped up in his sheets, and she is carrying his baby.

And despite never picturing much of this part of it before, he can see a glimpse of his future ahead of him.

A future where Poppy’s belly grows round and presses into his whenever she’s close enough that he can pull her into him. A future where tiny sticky hands press into one side of the plexiglass while he’s out warming up on the ice, and his large, gloved hand presses to the other. A future where he comes home to find her battling sleep with a snoring baby held to her chest, highlights playing with lowered volume on the TV, and they’d snuggle up together until they both pass out, and he gets up to do the middle of the night feed-and-change so that Poppy gets her rest.

And all those worries he had before about never being enough for her fade to nothing, because now he has no choice.

If Poppy can grow a little human with a tiny beating heart, who is half of him, and half of her, then he can step up for her.

Whatever she needs him to be, whatever she wants him to be, he’ll be it - and he’ll be it with this same lovesick smile that he now can’t shift.

So with a content sigh, and a deep longing for the girl laying not even 20 feet away from him, he falls asleep for the first time in 4 weeks at peace with his actions.

—

Over the last four weeks, Nico has spent way too much time retracing his steps to the point where he had so royally screwed things up with Poppy that she had wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. So when he wakes up the next morning before the sun shows any signs of rising - when he quickly gets himself ready to head off to practice, sneaking through his room to go brush his teeth, planting a minty kiss to the sleeping girl’s forehead and making sure she has something to drink for when she wakes up - he places a note beside the glass of water on his nightstand, in preparation for when she wakes up.

This time, he won’t leave her to wake up without him without some sort of explanation. Without an assurance that he’ll be back as promised, and that he can’t wait to see her, and that she should text him when she wakes up and let him know what isn’t going to turn her stomach and he’ll get it for her.

Which is why, when he checks his phone after his training session at the arena gym finishes at 9:30, his heart drops to the pit of his stomach when nothing is there.

It’s still early, he tells himself after a quick shower. She might still be asleep, he thinks as he packs up his toiletries, sets his things aside to be washed and tries to act like his thoughts aren’t eating him alive. She might not have seen the note, he convinces himself as he does a quick round of the grocery store - grabbing her some essentials and replenishing some of the basics he knows he is low on anyway. She wouldn’t have left, he thinks as he watches the numbers go up in the elevator, his feet tapping against the floor nervously as he awaits his stop.

And when he makes it into his apartment, and she isn’t on his couch, isn’t in the kitchen, isn’t in the bed where he had left her that morning, he starts to panic - until he hears something through the closed door of his bathroom.

“Poppy?” He asks softly before pushing the door open to see her sat on her knees on the floor beside his toilet, sticky hair matted to her paled skin, and bleary eyes looking weakly up at him. He sinks down beside her, perches himself on his knees and pushes the strands of hair off her forehead and out of her face. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“My phone died,” her voice is strained, and he doesn’t need to look into the toilet bowl to know why. “I tried to find a charger but I couldn’t get up without feeling sick.”

He hadn’t even thought to get her one when he had left her in here last night. “I’ll get you one,” but when he goes to push himself off the ground, she wraps her shaking fingers around his wrist.

“Could you just sit with me for a little?” She asks, “I know I’m gross but I just need you to hold my hair if it happens again, I didn’t bring a hair tie.”

“Of course,” he lowers himself back to the ground beside her, “C’mere,” he swings an arm over her shoulders, pulling her body into his until her head falls weakly into the crook of his neck. He strokes at her hair gently, tucking it behind her ears where she can and trying to soothe her into some sort of comfort. “Have you been here all morning?”

She nods, and he lowers his other arm to tuck his hand under her legs, unbending them as best as he can and stretching them out over his own so that she won’t loose the feeling in them.

They stay like that for a while, her taking deep breaths to alleviate the nausea and him stroking tranquilly at whatever parts of her he can reach. The soft skin of her thighs and the outsides of her knees with one hand, the slope of her neck and the curve of her shoulder with the other. One of her arms stays bent between them, but the other stretches out in an attempt to touch him back, languidly resting on his torso and occasionally her fingers dance lightly across the fabric of his t-shirt with just enough pressure to make his stomach clench in anticipation.

“You should take a shower,” he suggests after peeking down at her to make sure she hasn’t fallen asleep. “You might feel better.”

“Am I that bad?”

“Doesn’t feel right to chirp a pregnant woman, Poppy.”

The laugh she gives him in return feels like a cherished gift, and his chest swells with pride when she looks up at him and her eyes glimmer under the overhead lights.

“I got you some things from the store.”

He had spent almost 5 minutes trying to find coconut scented shampoo and conditioner, unscrewing several bottles and trying not to get caught, but he won’t be telling her that.

“And here I was counting my lucky stars you have such an extensive hair wash routine all morning.” She jibes, pointing over to the toiletries inside Nico’s shower. “If you were a 5-in-1 guy I would have seriously reconsidered our friendship.”

“It’s a good thing you don’t have to worry about that, wait here.”

He goes to retrieve one of the bags he had discarded when he got in, and takes it back to Poppy in his bathroom before emptying it out onto the counter beside the sink.

Shampoo, conditioner, a hairbrush, a new toothbrush, deodorant, some face wipes, an unscented body wash, and a packet of anti-nausea medication he had specifically asked the pharmacist for with the assurance it was okay for pregnant women.

“Oh wow, I must be that bad.”

“Not at all, I just wanted you to feel more comfortable.” He reassures her, and opens a drawer below the sink to get her a washcloth and a fresh bar of soap. “There’s clean towels in the cupboard behind you. And if you want to raise the pressure of the shower, it’s the dial at the top, temperature at the bottom.”

“Got it. Thank you, Nico,” she smiles, and Nico smiles back at the sincerity in her eyes.

“I’m gonna put together something to eat while you’re in there. You don’t have to eat if you don’t feel like it, but is there anything you think you can stomach?”

“Something cold,” she requests, swiping at the packet of medication and curiously reading the label, “That doesn’t have any kind of smell.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he chuckles, “I’ll put some fresh clothes on my bed, just call out if you need me, yeah?”

Poppy nods, and gives him a little salute with a pill packet between her fingers.

Something cold that doesn’t have any smell.

He had got her fruit from the store - strawberries and pre-cut watermelon, Pink Lady apples because he knows they’re the only kind she will eat - as well as yoghurt, some cereal, some bagels and some eggs and bacon. The eggs and bacon are out of the question, as much as he’d want to make himself a decent breakfast bagel after his training session, but the rest of it seems pretty safe.

He cuts up the fruit anyway, even if she won’t eat it now, he can always send it home with her later. He puts the yoghurt in the fridge so it will stay as cold as possible - he had gotten her coconut flavour, remembering how she had once said it was her favourite, but only the greek type that has the taste of coconut but not the texture. He leaves the bagels to the side, thinking that toasting them and potentially burning them is a little too risky without asking her first, and lays the boxes of cereal in a row on his counter so that she has her choice of the bunch if she wants some.

The pharmacist had recommended ginger shots to help with the sickness, but Nico has tried one too many of those on their own before, and they would make even the healthiest person gag, so he had bought some pre-made smoothies to mix them into. He decides he’ll leave her to pick, and blend it over some ice when she isn’t looking.

And as he flits around his kitchen without giving any of these things a second thought, he feels for the first time in a long time like he has thing figured out.

He can so do this. He can look after her like it’s just second nature to him. He can pick up whatever she needs from the store without panicking down every aisle and googling what is or isn’t okay for her. He can sit and hold her hair while she pukes her guts up and not get freaked out by it even in the slightest. He can go to practice, go to training, go to games, and come home and care for her like how she deserves.

He can do it with his hands tied behind his back, he feels.

He’s full of bravado, and hope, and excitement, and it’s a tornado of feelings that plough straight through whatever he had been feeling before - doubt and anxiety and insecurity.

The only thing that remains is regret.

Regret for what he had done to her, what he had said, the way he had ended things. All of it seems so stupid now. It seems so impulsive and he feels like he had been so blind.

Blinded by uncertainty, blinded by self-doubt, blinded by the poison spewed by Talia that he wasn’t good enough for anyone.

He should have listened to that tiny voice within him that had told him he could have been good enough for Poppy. Then he would never have hurt her. Would never have spent 4 weeks longing for her and hoping things could be different.

“You’re gonna have to get me a key cut,” her voice rings down the hall before she appears on the other side of his kitchen island, donning sweatpants that she has had to fold at the waist and a sweatshirt where the arms hang beyond the tips of her fingers. Her hair is damp, her feet are bare, and she looks like she belongs. “I don’t ever want to use another shower in my life.”

“It’s nice, huh?” He chuckles as he leans down onto the countertop, watching her as her feet pad closer, “I sometimes just stand in there for a good five minutes when I’m done, the pressures nice when I’m all achey after a game.”

“I bet, if I didn’t feel hungry for the first time in 2 weeks, I would have stayed in there for like an hour.”

“You feel better?”

“So much better.” She smiles up at him, leaning over the counter and cupping his face with both hands. “You, Nico Hischier, are a gift from God for those pills.”

She pulls him further over the island and plants a big, wet, somewhat minty kiss on his head, and he finds himself closing his eyes and breathing her in while she’s so close.

Where he expects to smell the coconut shampoo he had searched high and low for, he breathes in something different. Something familiar for an entirely different reason.

She smells fresh, like citrus-bergamot, and a little woody like cedar and musk.

She smells like him.

“The girl at the pharmacy said they should help short term until you can get in to see a doctor.” He tells her as he shakes himself out of whatever spell she had just cast on him.

“Thank you, Nico, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I wanted to,” he shrugs, straightening up and moving some of the fruit he had prepared to the counter between them. “I technically caused all of your problems.”

Her lips twist, and he watches as she lifts herself onto one of the stools, swivelling until she’s facing him properly and reaching out to take some of the watermelon. He makes his way over to the refrigerator while she chews on a piece.

“Did you get any-,” and before she can finish her sentence, he brings out the pot of coconut yoghurt and puts it down in front of her. “You’re good.”

“I know, it’s weird.” He leans back down and watches in amusement as she dips her watermelon into the yoghurt. “I was stressing a little on the way to the store about what I could get you, and then as soon as I got there it was like my legs just knew where to go.”

“Maybe you’re gonna be one of those sympathy-pregnancy kind of dads,” she smirks, and his knees start to feel a little like jelly at her use of the word, “Like your boobs will start to hurt and you’ll get all hormonal and cry at everything.”

“I don’t have boobs, Poppy.” He chuckles, reaching out to try watermelon dipped in yoghurt for himself.

“You know what I mean.”

Poppy works her way through quite a bit of the fruit before she hangs in the towel, and he decides not to subject her to the ginger shot quite yet - her nausea having subsided enough already that it’s probably an unwarranted form of torture at this point.

She helps him put everything away, and the two of them work around each other in the kitchen like a well oiled machine. It feels completely normal to have her in his space. He doesn’t feel the need to busy himself with mundane tasks to occupy his hands or his mind, and she makes everything seem so easy - cracking jokes and making conversation like nothing else is happening in their world.

He could have had it this good this whole time, he thinks.

He could have it this good forever.

The reality of it dawns on him when they eventually make their way over to the couch, the pregnancy tests still discarded where they had left them the night before, two sticking out from the couch cushions and two remaining on his coffee table. He plucks one out from between the seams of his couch, still not caring much for where it has been before, and stares down at the two lines with the kind of smile that makes his cheeks hurt.

“Have you ever thought about it before?” Poppy asks, and as he watches her lean into the back of the couch, he gets the sense she’s starting to build her guard up in anticipation of a blow. “Having kids, I mean?”

“No,” he replies, honestly. “Not properly. Not beyond thinking, like, it might be nice.”

“Do you still think that?” She chews at the corner of her lip, “Is it something that you want?”

“It is now.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.” He gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “I think it’s that I could never picture it happening, before. I’ve never really had anyone I could see myself doing it with.”

“Not even Talia?”

He cringes inwardly at even the mention of her name. “God, no.”

“Really?” She seems as if she doesn’t believe him entirely.

“She’s not-,” he starts, “We weren’t-,” he tries again, and his mind races with a hundred ways to say what he wants to say without Poppy thinking he’s an asshole. “I don’t know.”

“Nico, I really need you to be straight with me here.” She sighs, sitting up straight and shuffling a little closer to him.

“I’m always straight with you.”

“No offence, but I don’t think you are,” she says, and before he can even give a rebuttal, she adds, “It’s not that I think you keep things from me maliciously, but you don’t always give me the full picture, and I,” she takes a deep breath, rolling her shoulders to prepare herself, “I jump to conclusions super easily, and I end up hurting myself when you don’t say whatever it is that you mean. And I think we can avoid all that if we’re just honest with each other. I don’t want us to get into dumb fights and it get in the way of us being friends again.”

He feels his heart come to a thunderous stop. Friends.

“If we’re gonna do this co-parent thing, we need to be honest about what we think and how we feel.”

Co-parents?

“Okay,” he responds, and it comes out like he’s on auto-pilot.

Okay?

“I know she’s back in the picture, you don’t have to keep pretending.”

“Back in the-“ He shakes his head, his thoughts racing at a million miles an hour. “What?”

“I heard you talking to her, before you left my apartment after we-,” Poppy gestures to her belly, where both nothing and everything has changed all at once, and Nico’s eyes get stuck there as she carries on. “Y’know, and then you broke things off, it hardly takes a genius to add it up.”

“Poppy, no.” He doesn’t remember ever being so direct with her. “No, no, no, that wasn’t-“ She had heard him? “I’m not-,” he takes a deep breath to alleviate the swirl of panic. He needs to be straight with her. “She got herself into some stupid mess, and she thought it was my fault but it wasn’t. I had to help her out, but she’s gone, she isn’t back in the picture, Poppy, I promise. I don’t even know if she was ever in the picture, I-.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

His eyes dart up to meet hers, and where he holds his breath in the anticipation of seeing how much she has been hurting, has been assuming the worst of him and thinking the littlest of herself, he sees everything he loves about her shining back at him. Patience, generosity, forgiveness.

“After I left you without a word, and came back and ended things before they even began, would it have mattered?”

“Nico, this whole time I thought you shut things down because you wanted to be with her but you just-,” she shakes her head like she can’t bring herself to say the rest, and his throat starts to feel drier by the second.

How could he have ever been so stupid? He had thought he’d been miserable the past 4 weeks, second guessing his choices and wanting nothing more than to just talk to her, and she’s spent that whole time thinking he had discarded her like a used toy and gone back to someone else. Someone who could never compare to her in any universe.

“I really fucked this up, huh?”

“Yeah,” she nods, her lips twitching as the silence settles between them for a second.

He watches as she thinks for a second. Watches her brows furrow and relax, her eyes dart around to different spots between the, her bottom lip get tugged between her teeth, and released into a pensive pout, all before she says, “You can make it up to me,” and she gives a gentle and reassuring smile, reaches out for his hand and presses the soft pads of her fingers to his knuckles before pushing them through the spaces in between.

Although it pains him to say it, he tells her, “You have to stop letting me off so easy, Poppy.”

“Trust me,” she says, “I won’t be letting you off easy. Us Jensen women are super scary when we’re hormonal. Super demanding and bratty.”

“I’ll take it.” He promises. “And I’ll give you whatever you want, whatever you need.”

“Right now I just need to know that you’re in this with me,” she requests, so vulnerable in her tone that is makes his chest ache.

He reaches up with his free hand and cups his palm around her soft cheek. “I’m in this,” he whispers, leaning into her and pressing his forehead to hers. “I can't begin to tell you how much I want it, Mohn.”

“Okay.” She whispers back, and when her eyes flutter closed at the proximity, and she surrenders to his touch, Nico gives in to his instincts.

Entirely caught up in the intimacy of the moment, he leans in, and when his mouth presses to hers, he feels the culmination of 4 weeks of longing, of missing her, of regretting everything, of anticipating seeing her, of worrying, of needing of wanting, explode into something vibrant and loud and inevitable.

It’s like a fireworks show, sparks of anxiety, of excitement, of hope and doubt and insecurity clashing together in pops and bangs and fizzes, raining down on him in a mixture of colour and sound.

“Mmph-,” she squeaks out a protest as his lips meet hers, and despite his primal instinct to persevere, to give her a second to adjust to the kiss and to eagerly accept his advances, to bask in the beauty of it all like he is, he pulls straight away with a furrowed brow, eyes meeting hers in concern as he creates an inch of space between them.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think we should do that,” her eyes dart down, lashes fluttering as she avoids his gaze chasing hers back.

“Do what, kiss?”

“Yeah.”

“Why not?” He doesn’t even feel ashamed at the way he practically whines when asking.

“Would you want to kiss me if I wasn’t pregnant?”

How could she possibly even doubt that? He thinks.

“I always want to kiss you, Poppy.” Again, it’s pointless to second guess those feelings. He’d told her something similar after the first time he had done it, and he had meant it as much back then as he does, now.

“Would you want to be with me?”

That isn’t a matter of want, but this time, he hesitates.

He’ll always want to be with her.

He’s wanted nothing else the last four weeks they haven’t been talking. For the last few years he has known her. He wants to be with her when he’s alone in his apartment, when he’s away with the team, when he’s back home with his family, he has always wanted that.

And especially now that she’s carrying his baby, as minuscule as it currently may be, it’s going to grow in her belly with eyes that sparkle when it smiles and a brain that thinks exclusively in razor-sharp wit and biting sarcasm.

“Poppy, I,” he sighs, knowing he can’t undo the damage he had caused that night in her apartment all those weeks ago. Even after clearing up her misconceptions on what was behind it, it doesn’t change what he said. That was never about not wanting her. It was about not wanting to hurt her. But every time he tries to explain it - to her, to Luke, to himself, even - he just sounds like an idiot. “I don’t know.”

He does now. Of course he knows, but something within him tells him that she won’t believe him this time when he tells her. There’s only so many excuses he can give for what he did.

“We can’t just be together because I’m going to have your baby, Nico, that’s not-,” she takes a shuddered breath. “I don’t want you to want to be with me because it’s convenient.”

“That isn’t what this is.”

“I don’t think you even know what you want,” she says, her tone light and comforting despite the harsh reality check being served, “And that’s okay, but I’m not gonna be a guinea pig for you to figure it out. That isn’t fair to me.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that sometimes you make decisions in the heat of the moment when you might not mean or want them.”

Nico lets her words dawn on them for a second.

If only she knew how much that were true.

“I don’t say that to be an asshole, either, I just,” her tongue darts out to wet her lips, the ones he had pressed his own to barely a minute ago and hadn’t savoured enough while he was there. “Rushing into things is what got us into this, and I don’t want to,” her eyes meet his again and he holds his breath in anticipation. “I don’t wanna get hurt again. Especially not now.”

He wants to say he would never hurt her, but he can’t make promises like that when those are the thoughts that caused such a mess in the first place.

He had hurt her before whether he intended to, or not, and what’s to say he isn’t going to fuck this up again along the way.

“I want this, too. I want it so much it drives me a little crazy, but it feels right. And I think there’s a way that we can do this where it might hurt a little now but it stops us hurting later down the line, where it has the potential to do some serious damage. Does that make sense?”

Maybe she’s right.

Maybe they can do this another way. A way where neither of them are left disappointed.

He gets his friend back, and she gets hers.

And they both get a baby.

A baby that has two parents who love each other more than anything in the world still. Who share so much of their lives together, but might never take that final leap into something more.

He nods, wordlessly.

“I’m not saying that we can’t go back to how we were before, but we both let things get too intense, and I know I’m probably at fault for that, but I think we’ll be better off if we just take things slow.”

“Slow.” He repeats, like he’s trying to get a taste for the word. He doesn’t entirely like it, but he doesn’t hate it like he thought he would.

“Yeah, like being a little more cautious of how far we take things. We start as friends and see how we get on with that.”

“Like baby steps,” he mutters.

Poppy smiles. It’s the slow kind, that builds from something soft to something beaming, something beautiful, and turns into joyous laughter like music to his ears. It’s vibrant and wonderful, and it makes his heart ache all the more. “Yeah,” she lets out a breathy chuckle, “Exactly like baby steps.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle @bunbunbl0gs @idgaf-if-youre-here @youflowerr-youfeast @thearchersstuff @bellsdi0r @wonderheartz @jjgsunflower @butterflies35 @kenziepickle @josierosie @laheyxlover @mrsmattytkachuk @dasiysthings (sorry if your tag hasn't worked btw)

#nico hischier #nico hischier x oc #nico hischier fanfiction #nico hischier imagine #nhl fanfiction #*oys #*writing #I had a very rough draft of the nico and poppy convo but other than that the rest of this came from nowhere this week #I've had eNOUGH of angst now I wanna get the good times rolling #also in case anyone thinks of it a go piss girl joke didn’t fit the mood okay it felt too meta in the poppy nia scene #I had to seriously resist temptation #I linked the painting referenced cos it's super pretty and the idea of his mum trolling him with a poppy painting is too good

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tuliharja · 2 years ago

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I just remembered a few days ago that Yamamoto x kinda reader fic that I wrote last year or so, that I never published. Now I kinda want to post it, but I still remember how the person who betaed it to me, all but called it garbage, because reader-san wasn't at all likable in their mind, so ditto. I'm again unsure if I should grace the fanfiction world with my bad writing or not... (Or, should I just go full anon in AO3 and publish it.)

#tuliharja talks #tuliharja wonders #tuliharja's midday ramblings #about writing #fanfiction #fanfic #bleach #bleach fanfic #bleach fanfiction #genryusai shigekuni yamamoto #yamamoto x reader #it's kind of like reader as I use third pov of the s/o #to be honest I didn't really ask my beta for any feedback but they just gave me their crushing opinion #in that sense I suppose I should be thankful as I never posted it so no reader could call out to me about my unlikable reader #then again what do you expect when it's about rejection and feeling mad and yes I painted Yamamoto as an a-hole so what?#apparently only those who already are in the manga or anime a-hole can only be written as such everybody else have to stay nice #delete later

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rainnmaybank · 2 years ago

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Maybe We’re Not So Different

[part 2]

vance hopper x reader

all characters are aged up, high school, please see pinned for explanation/reasoning

this has a lot of character building, mainly y/n focused, meeting vance, mainly just the build up for the rest of the story to have a good foundation to build off of.

DETAILS, DETAILS, DETAILS

third person pov, kinda long build up and slow burning, kinda forbidden love, will be made in parts.

S L O W B U R N I N G

words: 2,464

warnings: strong language, y/n and she/her used(please change to what suits you best!), drug use (cigarettes), angst, ooc vance and vance being vance(obvi), blood, fighting, injury, not fully edited work, OC’s for drama purposes, rumours.

y/n was known, not well, not deeply, simply just known. it was like everyone in that small town knew exactly who she was. Cool calm and collected, never was there ever an unpleasant emotion present on her face.

She never spoke, and when she did it was soft and quiet. People admired her for that, for the ways she walked so quietly but her presence was so loud.

y/n enjoyed being a mystery to the people living in the world around her. Of course she had her fair share of small conversations with her surrounding classmates. She often worked alongside Finney due to his shy and soft spoken manners. She’d never describe herself as shy, surly she wasn’t. She just never found anyone interesting enough.

It was saturday, meaning the local kids would be out on the town. Most saturdays y/n chose to stay home rather then waste her energy in situations she could live without, but like most parents hers wanted her to get out now and again. y/n’s parents knew she’d never go unless given a reason, so they gave her one. handing her a list of things to pick up and a few extra bucks to buy herself the cassettes she’d been asking for, her parents sent her off.

Much to y/n dismay the streets where loud and crowded, she tended to avoid those kinds of places the best she could. Figuring she could make her outing shorter she entered the local shop, the bell rang over her head notifying the cashier of her presence.

She often wondered here in the dead of night, it looked different during the day, brighter, busier and much louder. Offering a smile to the cashier she’d grown to know by the name Mike, grabbing a basket beginning her walk through the aisles.

The pings and clashing of the pinball machine didn’t go unnoticed by the girl, she did however try her best to ignore it. Picking up the things on the list in her hand she’d finally reach the back where the ruckus had been coming from. the quiet girl stopped seeing who it was, the curly dirty blonde hair and jean vest never went unnoticed by her. It was him, Vance Hopper. The only person in this whole damn town who had ever caught her interest. Perhaps it was his aggressive behaviours or the why his voice was always so loud in her mind, it could have been his eyes, how the narrowed and shot daggers into those who disturbed him.

Vance was, and is know for being the hardest kid around, not something to be taken lightly. He earned his title and continued to maintain it like it was nothing, y/n had heard about his previous fights; not all the details just a few comments here and there. She knew everyone moved when it came to him. Listened when he spoke, and god if you ever tested him you’d be drinking your own blood.

y/n stood there watching in haze, taking her time trying to figure out even the smallest detail of the blonded boy. She hadn’t noticed his eyes on her, she was now the one disturbing him, and there they where, the narrowed eyes boring straight into hers. Lips parting in attempts to explain her stare but quickly shut, his words coming first. “What the fuck are you looking at?” she swallowed tilting her head “I was watching you play, you’re good” head nodding at her quickly though of excuse.

He snarled, eyes rolling. “obviously, now what the fuck do you want?” his words laced with annoyance as he turned back to the machine, his friends snickering from behind. y/n shrugged her shoulders “Nothin’” a smirk played her lips and the angered boy lost in pong, it was her turn to roll her eyes walking behind them a smooth whisper as she passed. “I can do better then that”

Her hair swung effortlessly side to side. She caught his attention again, Vance watched as the girl checked out noticing her slipping a pack of camels into her coat pocket when the cashier wasn’t looking. Sucking him teeth he turned back to the game watching his friends trying to get a higher score.

Huffing with the bag slung over her shoulder, y/n looked at the cassettes she had picked up on the way home. She heard some girls in her bio class talking about an album so she bought it. It looked good, not really something she was into but, with all her so called risks today, she figured one more couldn’t hurt.

The day went on, it was boring. The new tape she bought was looping over and over, soon the sun had set and the clock read 11pm. y/n grabbed her walkman and laced on her converse. Sneaking out her window had almost been a nightly thing she’d adopted to her routine over the months. Typically she’d go to the park, sit on the swings for a while but tonight she had other plans.

y/n made her way through familiar streets and paths, pushing through the door of the local shop, the bell rang over her head for the second time that day. Speaking a quick hello she turned on her heels heading for the pinball machine, she had made a goal to beat the violent boys score that night. Pressing play on her walkman she began her quest.

It had taken her two hours and a few tears but there it was, she had beat his score, not just by a little but by a lot. Shuffling her feet across the floor her eyes sat heavy, waving bye to the cashier who had watched her the whole time sure vance wouldn’t be happy tomorrow when he saw.

Early noon sun peaked in through the curtains lifting from the breeze, must not have fully shut the window. y/n sat up in her bed annoyed over being woken up.

She’d gotten ready that day, a smile plastered on her face. Voluntarily walking through the busy sunday streets, walking straight the the shitty local market. A quick peak inside the blonde curls caught her eye immediately.

Quickly making her way inside she snuck around the shelves making her way over to the pinball machine. He was focused so deeply into the game trying to win his title back before anyone saw. He was angry; then again when was he not? red hot range had filled Vance that morning, questions filled his head. ‘who the fuck beat me?’ ‘what stupid motherfucker did that?’ he wanted to kill whoever had done that.

y/n watched for a moment longer. Feet carrying her towards the machine, stopping half in his sights. “What the fuck do you want? Can’t ya see i’m busy here?” he glanced her way, brows knitted together. y/n smirked slightly leaning back into his view. “Told you i could do better”

Vance froze, loosing his round looking towards the long haired girl. God he wanted to slap that stupid smirk right off her face. He had to admit you had major balls for taking over his game, but you must have been psycho if you willingly walked up to him to tell him.

He was both impressed and furious at her actions, part of him wondered how she managed to be so good at pinball and the other how she wasn’t shitting her pants right now. Maybe she just didn’t know him, you where new. No that’s impossible he’d seen her around school.

“Listen doll, i don’t know who you think you are or what the fuck you think you’re doing but you should cut it out before i beat that stupid look off your fucking face” he leaned closer to y/n as he spoke, Something he’d done to others, rattle them up a bit. y/n stood her ground, smirk never dropping from her blushed lips.

Copying his actions y/n leaned in closer. “You’re not as scary as you think you are” stepping back, Vance stood there slightly shocked over the y/h/c girls words. “Catch ya later, Vance” pulling a smoke from the pack shed stolen the other day placing it between her lips as she left the shop.

Vance was both impressed and irritated at y/n’s boldness. How could the girl who never spoke, speak so confidently to him. He hadn’t noticed the amount of eyes on him till he looked around. “what the fuck are you looking at motherfucker” his words hissed with venom pushing over a rack as he left the shop after her.

As days went on the pair shared looks each time they noticed eachothers presence, y/n wore her smirk and vance face held hard in annoyance. The week had come to an end once again, only something new had happened. Some of the girls had said some choice words about y/n. False facts circled around the school making their way to y/n during her bio class when Finney had brought them up asking if it was true.

Shocked to find the school was under the impression y/n had slept with Bruce Yamada. “That’s not true Finn, who told you that?” y/n’s brows furrowed together. “Emily Green- well Robin told me, he heard her talking about it” Finney dropped his head, ashamed he believed the rumours. y/n’s head spun, anger pumped through her veins. She hated rumours but hated them even more when they where made about her.

Finneys voice sparked again, “Bruse won’t confirm or deny them either” y/n sighed sitting back in her seat, hearing whispers from the surrounding tables directed towards her. “I’m going to rip her stupid face off” her voice stern but quiet only for Finn to hear. He looked surprised, it hadn’t been in your known character to be so fierce.

y/n stayed quiet the rest of the day, thinking of why of all people Emily Green had chosen her to be victim of her cruel behaviour. It was a light rumour compared to some of the other things she’d sparked in the past, nonetheless y/n had no patients for people like her.

The day came to an end, y/n no calmer then when she’d found out about the rumour. A hard look rested on her face as she walked down the halls, something people hadn’t seen before.

Before y/n could process what she was doing her fist was full of Emily’s brown hair yanking her back and pushing her forward, Emily yelped quickly turning to face y/n “What the fucks your deal?” Emily’s voice rang through the halls pulling attention in ever direction.

Adrenaline rushed through the quiet girls body, her hands shaking. “My deal?” a forced laugh left her lips “You’re the one with my name in your slutty mouth” Emily stepped forward “Awe look, the freak can speak” Emily’s laugh turned to a gasp of air, y/n’s fist struck her ribs.

In a blink of an eye y/n had hit the ground, Emily took the upper hand. Feeling warmth slide down the side of her mouth y/n was quick to dodge the second strike.

Flipping their bodies y/n gripped the brunettes hair holding her head to the ground, mind a blur y/n’s fists moved faster then her thoughts did, slamming into queen b Emily’s face over and over again. y/n didn’t notice the blows emily was placing on her body.

Staff had ran down the hallway towards the shouting teens surrounding them. Teachers worked pulling the two girls apart, focusing on Emily once they’d been separated, it seemed like she had gotten it worse between them. y/n stood there for a moment dazed trying to catch her breath, looking around she hadn’t noticed how many people stopped to watch. Quickly grabbing her things she left the scene.

y/n sat at the bottom of the slide watching the stars inhaling toxins from the dart resting between her fingers wincing in pain when her lungs filled to much. Tired and bruised, her knuckles still stung.

Vance had watched her fight earlier that day, he wasn’t shocked at the ways she took and gave a punch. He did however think she could use a lesson or two on how to do it properly.

He walked the dimly lit streets that night following a different route then he usually would, cutting through the park that split two streets, uncared for street lamps flickered on and off. Noticing the figure sat on the bottom of the slide he continued his walk with confidence.

y/n’s voice echoed through the stilled air. “Well if it isn’t pinball Vance Hopper” his head turned to where the sound had come from. She sat there with a bloody split lip, smoke leaking from them as they parted. He didn’t know what had possessed him, his feet carried him towards y/n before he could process.

Brushing the strands of her hair behind her ear y/n sat up more, lifting her chin to look at Vance as he approached her. She was expecting him to belittle her, tell her off in someway, a simple ‘fuck off’ but none of that came. Instead he sat down on the slide next to hers.

Vance looked over y/n’s knuckles, she hadn’t bandaged them. Some of the cuts still oozing slowly. “You want one?” she gestured at her cigarette, “Why not, you didn’t pay for them” his voice was low, calmer then she’d ever heard it. Reaching in her jacket pocket with a small laugh at his comment, handing him the pack.

They sat in silence, minutes passed. Vance let out a breathy chuckle, “You should work on your punches” y/n’s gaze moved from the trees to the dirty blonde boy. “I think i did a great job considering i’ve never thrown one before” his eyes examined her lip “Yeah, i could tell” tossing his butt on the ground stepping on the cherry he sat forward resting on his knees. “She did some damage”

y/n chuckled “If you think that’s the damage, you’re wrong” standing up from her spot, Vance watched her confused as her jacket hit the ground. Raising her shirt, she showed him the bruises littering her torso.

His nose scrunched, looking at the colours painting her skin. “Cant even breathe properly” shaking her head putting her jacket back on returning to her spot on the slide. “You should see her face” Vance turned facing the long haired girl more “Did good for your first time, doll”

part 2

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burningablaze · 2 years ago

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Mirio x Fem!Reader - A Favor

A/N: I think this was truly a masterpiece in my eyes. I loved writing every second of this. Thank you to the person that sent me this kind of request. And yes I know the POV is third person but I thought I could switch things up a tad

Summary: You have always been shy asking Mirio for stuff especially when it comes to tickles. Even though Mirio has told you plenty of times to don’t be too nervous about it, you can’t help yourself. Your laugh was another thing to be shy about

Relationship: S/O

Ler: Mirio

Lee: Reader

Words: 1,269

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

It’s happening again. Y/N wanted tickles. The only thing is she’s too shy to ask for them. However, Mirio, her significant other, understands this.

She taps her fingers while staring at the ceiling. She sighed, thinking about what to do. Should she ask Mirio? Is he okay giving out tickles to Y/N? Should Y/N wait it out? She won’t know for sure until she asks Mirio.

Y/N took a breath of courage, got up from the bed, and walked out of the bedroom. She spotted Mirio sitting on the couch as he strolled through his phone. Y/N peeked from the corner and twirled her fingers, deciding if asking him was the right time.

“Oh hey, sweetheart. Whatchu doing?” Mirio said out of nowhere. He gave away his generous smile like always. Y/N sighed and came out of hiding. “N-Nothing much. What are you doing?” She asked and slowly made her way to the couch.

“Just looking over some emails. I’m kinda bored, to be honest.” Mirio said. Y/N began to blush and sat down gently next to Mirio. “Everything alright? You look bored yourself.” Mirio said and wrapped his arm over Y/N’s shoulder. She looked away and twirled her thumbs together in a circle.

Mirio leaned his head to the side. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked. Without saying a word, Y/N grabbed his hand and placed it on her stomach. Mirio blinked. “Are you having a stomachache? Wait! You have cramps?”

Poor Y/N. Mirio wasn’t getting the hint just yet. She covered her face and showed Mirio her hand. She made a slight squeezing motion while imitating her fingers as claws. “Ooh! You wanted tickles!” Mirio exclaimed.

Hearing the word tickle from Mirio’s mouth made Y/N clench up, but not in a bad way. She just gets flustered so easily. “Honey, when was the last time I said you don’t have to be nervous about asking me? You know I’m always happy to do it. It’s adorable!” Mirio comforted.

“I know, but it feels…” “Embarrassing?” “Not embarrassing… just…” “A little uncomfortable?” “Something like that.”

Mirio grasped her hands into his. “Sweetie, I love tickling you because it makes you so happy, and I love seeing you happy. I love hearing your giggles and seeing that beautiful smile on your face. It’s something I get to see every day, and it makes me feel like I’m doing something right for you.”

Y/N loves how Mirio uses his words, especially getting sweet for her. She smiled uncontrollably as Mirio was getting closer and closer to her as he was talking.

“Stohohop!” She giggled and quickly covered her mouth. “Did you want tickles now?” Mirio asked. Y/N blushed slightly and nodded. “Here, lay your back in my lap.” He patted his thigh.

Y/N laid across his lap comfortably. Mirio slid her shirt up just enough to show her belly. “Gentle as usual?” He asked. Y/N nodded. Mirio began to lower his hands to Y/N’s belly and wiggled his fingers, gentle as he said. Y/N’s belly twitched as Mirio’s fingers crawled every inch. She covered her mouth to hold her laugh in. That was another problem.

Mirio had never thought Y/N would be embarrassed of her laugh. She would always hold her giggles every time Mirio tickled her, but he knew how to break her. He told her multiple times that there was no reason to hide her laugh, but it seemed there was no way to convince her.

Y/N squirmed while her hands muffled her giggles. “Come on, let me hear that laugh.” Mirio teased. Y/N shook her head. “If I can’t make you laugh by tickling your tummy, then maybe I can make you laugh by tickling your sides.” Mirio scribbled his fingers to her sides. Her quiet squeak says it all.

Mirio knew that her sides were a little more sensitive than her belly. He started squeezing her sides. Y/N had to hold her mouth with one hand and used the other to push Mirio’s hand away. Mirio seized her moving hand and held it down right by her head.

“Come on, Y/N, I know you want to laugh. Tickle, tickle, tickle! Let me see that pretty smile of yours!”

Poor Y/N had to endure the tickling from this teasing monster. She didn’t expect it would tickle this much. With this much teasing involved, she was getting more flustered by the second.

Mirio switched places from her sides to her belly again and then to the sides of the belly. At that moment, Mirio could’ve sworn he heard a chuckle. Y/N had her eyes squinted, and her body shook from laughing silently.

“Let it out, baby. You know you don’t have to be afraid of your laugh.” Mirio said passionately. “Or do I have to keep tickling this ticklish tummy of yours?” He gently clawed his fingers into her tummy, making tiny vibrations.

“Ehehehehehehehehehehe Miriohohohohohoho!” Y/N let go of her mouth and held onto Mirio’s wrists. Mirio gasped playfully. “I broke the spell! Now more tickles is on the way!” He continued to tickle her belly while squeezing her side.

“Ahahahahahahahahaha nohohohohohoho!” “No, what? I can’t understand while you're being too cute!” “Mirio wahahahahahait!”

Mirio realized that he needed to stop, assuming Y/N was getting overwhelmed and needed a break.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Y/N’s face was blushing more than ever, and she slightly curled herself. “What’s wrong?” Mirio asked.

“I wasn’t supposed to laugh.” She said. “Is it because…” “I don’t like my laugh.” Y/N looked away. “But I do,” Mirio gently brought her face back to look at her properly. “I do love your laugh. I love seeing you have fun. I don’t know what made you think like that otherwise.”

Y/N frowned. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry. I know it’s hard, but I’m here to help. Do you want to continue?”

Feeling a little better, Y/N nodded. Mirio laid her back down on his lap. “If you really want me to stop, just use the stoplight signals.” “Okay.”

Mirio lifted her shirt again and let his fingers dance all over her tummy. Y/N was comfortable enough to giggle softly. “Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha,”

“See? Is that better? Letting those build-up giggles out. Tickle, tickle, tickle.” “Ehehehehehehehehehehehehe!” “Did I get a good spot? Where does it tickle more, over here or over this way?”

Y/N never knew that Mirio would be such a good teaser; she loved it anyways. Her laughs and squeals were getting louder, and Mirio loved it. Y/N shrieked when Mirio used his nails to skitter around her belly button.

She arched her back and squirmed side to side. “Ahahahahahahahahahaha it tihihihickles!” “And you seem to enjoy it! Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle!”

Y/N felt comfortable not hiding her laugh. Mirio felt his heart melting of how much fun Y/N was having. She didn’t felt embarrassed or upset. It was nice getting out of her comfort zone.

“Ehehehehehehehehehehe!” “You are just so cute!” Mirio poked around her sides. Y/N curled her arms close to her chest, trying very hard not to push Mirio’s hands away. She was enjoying it too much.

Mirio slows down a little. “How you doing?” He asked. Y/N snickered. “Gohohohood,” “Am I good to keep going?” He asked. She nodded. Mirio smiled and lightly scratched her ribs.

After a couple of moments, Y/N asked Mirio to stop. He cradled her while she was breathing gently. “You alright, Y/N?” Mirio asked. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you, Mirio.”

Mirio smiled and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad. I want you to do me a favor; I want you to keep laughing more. It’s beautiful and cute.”

#mha mirio #ler!mirio #ticklish!reader #lee!reader #mirio x reader #mha requested fic

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

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orbit, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Ah, university. A time to get drunk, get laid, and (maybe) get an education. And Jeon Jungkook could do all those things. It was great. Until the moment he encounters an inescapable gravity, the kind of gravity that had already trapped all six of his friends... but left him out in orbit, circling alone.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, (too much) alcohol consumption, slow burn; smut (fem reader, dry humping, m-receiving oral, striptease, cock-warming, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - university!AU; a LOT of buildup; longhaired!Jungkook likes getting his hair pulled a little too much; Jungkook’s POV Technically BTS x reader, but we’re focusing on JK. :)

“Hey, you’re Jeon Jungkook, aren’t you?”

“Uh… yeah. That’s me.”

The slim, pretty hand slid into her backpack and she held out an iPhone to him.

“You’re friends with Kim Taehyung, right?” Her voice seemed a little hoarse. She was wearing a dark gray t-shirt with a leather jacket over it. “He left his cell at my place.”

Jungkook took it from her, frowning. “Ah, he’s not usually that forgetful.”

She waved a hand. “It’s fine. I wanted someone trustworthy to give it back to him.”

That was their first conversation.

When Jeon Jungkook entered university, he knew it was going to be different from high school. Bigger classes, more work, and completely monotone teachers as he struggled to stay awake during mandatory studies like Physics. What adult in real life uses physics anyway (besides physicists, of course)? At least he went to the same university all his friends went to, either as undergrads or as graduate students. Being with his friends was awesome.

Being smashed with his friends was even better.

The first time he saw her, she was standing in the corner of the party. It was at someone’s house with way too many people in it and everyone only vaguely knew the host. He was celebrating the first complete week of university by getting absolutely plastered (as one does). He noticed her right away because she was wearing a thick black choker with a silver ring on it and an oversized band tee. She wore a gray flannel over it like a jacket. Chunky combat boots, very different from the other girls in their high heels. The sharpest black eyeliner he had ever seen, paired with a red-stained lip.

She was also taking shots.

Surrounded by guys, in some sort of contest. She was throwing them back and two guys were beside her at a table, absolutely fucked. Heads on the table, unable to touch their shots, looking green. She clinked her glass down triumphantly and slammed her hand on the table, curling the other towards her.

Jungkook watched as money was slapped on the table.

She grinned and gathered it towards her, pocketing it in her flannel’s chest pocket.

“Nice try, boys.”

Jungkook looked away, quite impressed. Then Park Jimin fell over at something Kim Taehyung said and Jungkook had to catch the smaller man. He was laughing way too hard that something only mildly funny, but everyone was laughing because they were losing it. The night went on. Someone had retrieved a beach ball from the backyard and was throwing it around the party, making a fucking mess. The beach ball bounced off of Min Yoongi’s red face. He looked incredibly disgruntled and Jung Hoseok lost it, rubbing Yoongi’s nose soothingly even though he wasn’t hurt. Kim Seokjin threw it back into the chaos by headbutting it.

And Kim Namjoon was nowhere to be found.

Jungkook frowned. Also, he needed to pee. He yelled around for the bathroom and someone pointed in some random direction. Jungkook followed it, his bladder ready to explode. Eh, if worse came to worse he could just find a random bush in the backyard or something. He opened random doors, but they either had more people or people in various stages of fucking. Then he saw the open bathroom door down the hallway and two people two feet away from the doorframe.

The two people being Kim Namjoon and the young woman he saw earlier.

Namjoon had his fingers curled around the silver ring on the choker, pulling down as he pressed her against the wall, making out with her exposed shoulder. His beige sweatshirt already had a red kiss print on the collar, paired with a purple hickey. Her palms were pressed flat, snickering as Namjoon rolled his hips into her ass.

Jungkook turned around and decided to find a fucking bush.

The second time he saw her, she was wearing an oversized beige sweatshirt, no pants, scratching the back of her head. Black ankle boots with black thigh-high stockings. He was at the dining hall, waiting in line. She sat at the of the tables, across Jung Hoseok. Even though it was the middle of the day, she still wore sharp black eyeliner and a dark red lip stain. She was nodding, one of her hands playing with Hoseok’s pastel tracksuit sleeve. Hoseok was blushing, looking a little sheepish. She just shook her head and said something. Hoseok’s cheeks grew redder and she leaned over.

And kissed him.

Jungkook blinked. The cashier snapped her fingers to get his attention.

“Oh! Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

When he looked back, the table as empty.

The third time he saw her, he was at the club. He was knee-deep in an argument with Kim Taehyung about how building Iceborn Gauntlet was a lot more useful on Ezreal than Triforce because it allowed you to get off more autoattacks with the slows and helped you survive with the extra armor. Plus, the twenty-percent cooldown! Taehyung was rolling his eyes and telling him building damage was much better.

“Then build Infinity Edge if all you care about is damage!” Jungkook roared.

Park Jimin’s eyes were glazing over. “Guys, can we stop talking about League of Legends? I have no idea what you’re saying anymore…”

She caught his eye because she was wearing a pastel track jacket with a black t-shirt dress under it. And because she was pressed against Kim Seokjin in a booth, making his ears red as he spoke to her. The same sharp winged liner and a wine-red lipstick. She hooked a bare leg over Seokjin’s jeans. The older man jumped, but didn’t push it away. The silver tipped toe of her black boots rubbed against his other leg as she smiled. Her hand was on his navy t-shirt, tracing the embroidered white flowers. She placed her lips against Seokjin’s ear and whispered something. Seokjin’s plump lips opened into a small ‘o’. Her pink tongue slid out from between her lips and she licked his earlobe. Seokjin turned his head sharply to face her.

And she kissed him.

“Hah, here, got you a beer.”

Taehyung clinked the beer bottle down, still pouting. “I still think you’re wrong, but for Jimin’s sake I’ll shut up about it.”

Jimin whined. “Thank God, because I was starting to fucking lose it.”

When Jungkook remembered to look back at the booth, Seokjin and her were no longer there.

The fourth time he saw her, Jungkook was pissed.

He had gone to bathroom and came back to no friends. The fuck? Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung had just fucking disappeared. Like, yes, Jungkook had to throw up to prevent himself from getting alcohol poisoning and had taken longer than he anticipated, but still. What month of university was this? Whatever, not late enough to get fucking abandoned. He could understand if one of them was trying to get laid, but they were not drunk enough to forget he existed without so much as a text.

Earlier, Jungkook had been dared to shotgun way too many beers in a row compared to the amount of money he won. He still won though, so that was lit.

Anyway!

He had to throw up because it was disgusting. And now he felt much better, except for the fact that his friends were fucking gone. Dumbasses.

This party house was much bigger, much louder, and much rowdier. Whoever owned this house was loaded and they had tons of alcohol. Jungkook even swore he had seen drugs, but his friends told him to be careful and not fuck around. Getting expelled wasn’t on Jungkook’s list of things to do anyway, so he didn’t even bother to look.

Instead, he went on a familiar routine of opening random ass doors to random ass people, either way too drunk to notice him or way too occupied with fucking to care about his existence. Whatever. Where the fuck were those two loons?

And then he opened the door Jimin and Taehyung were behind.

They didn’t see him. Jimin’s head was tipped back against the headboard of the king-sized bed, hands clasping the hair of a woman Jungkook was beginning to see way too often. She was wearing a navy t-shirt, and her head was between Jimin’s legs, her hands clutching his pink dress shirt and Taehyung railed her from behind, eyes closed, white t-shirt drenched with sweat. The rough movements made her shirt flutter. Jungkook spied the white, embroidered flowers amongst the navy folds.

Jungkook closed the door and decided it was time to go home. Fuck those guys.

Not literally.

Well, it was happening right now. Technically.

Jungkook sighed and marched back downstairs, trying to figure out how he was going to scrub his eyeballs to erase the image from his mind forever.

Jungkook liked to hang out at Min Yoongi’s apartment. Yoongi didn’t live in the dorms because he was older and a grad student. Jungkook often went there to study because Yoongi practiced piano and guitar all the time. It was nice to study to some background music. Yoongi usually didn’t care if he was there or not. He had opened the door in a dark gray t-shirt with a skull graphic, yawning. The shorter man looked even shorter in his baggy black sweatpants.

“Oh, it’s you,” Yoongi mumbled. “Come in.”

Jungkook made himself at home, taking out his papers and textbooks on Yoongi’s coffee table. Yoongi busied himself around the apartment, making himself a coffee before going back to his bedroom which was also a makeshift studio. Soon, Jungkook began to hear synth beats, samples, and Yoongi’s pensive noises he made when he was thinking. This was fine too. Yoongi also often mixed music or was in the middle of making his own. Jungkook missed the piano, but rapper Yoongi was just as cool as piano Yoongi.

Jungkook stayed there for a while. Yoongi bought him lamb skewers for dinner. Sweet.

Maybe he shouldn’t party so much. This was nice too.

And now, a week later, Jungkook was staring at the same dark grey t-shirt he had seen that night at Yoongi’s. He was sure it was the same one, because he could see the skull graphic on the center of the shirt underneath her leather jacket. He tilted his head and frowned. She nodded and turned around, walking away from him. She didn’t say anything more.

Jungkook stared at Taehyung’s iPhone and then at her retreating back.

The fuck?

So, he waited.

Clearly, she knew who he was, because she had said his full name when they talked. Jungkook was going to ask Taehyung when he returned the phone, but Taehyung had just shrugged.

“Just hanging out. Don’t worry about it.”

Yet it was the end of the semester and…

Nothing.

The next semester started and still.

Nothing.

Jungkook saw her all right, wearing a pink dress shirt over a white t-shirt as she walked to the library, black backpack slung over her shoulder. Not just there, but fucking everywhere, at all the parties, all the clubs, in the hallways, and on his way to class. Wearing the clothes of his friends like they were badges of her conquests. They had to be, otherwise why the fuck would she have them? And none of his friends said anything. Nothing! Obviously, every single one of them had hooked up with this woman and every single one of them acted like they hadn’t. Even Min Yoongi, who was too lazy to even go to most of the parties or outings. How she had managed to bang him was beyond Jungkook.

And the fact that she didn’t even try to hook up with him was beginning to infuriate him.

He knew he wasn’t ugly. Jungkook received enough compliments to assure himself of that (plus his mom always reminded him, thanks Mom). He had drunken sex just like everyone else. It wasn’t like he didn’t make himself available. He was in her vicinity. In her orbit. Always on the periphery.

And she did nothing to acknowledge his existence.

Why?

Jungkook didn’t get it. And he didn’t like it either.

“Newton’s law of orbital motion.”

Jungkook’s eyes were glazing over. His professor’s voice was the equivalence of white noise. Why was Physics split over two semesters? Ugh. Whatever. That wasn’t the problem right now.

The problem was, he was going to get laid by this mysterious woman and he was going to do it at this weekend’s party.

Yeah, well, that was as far as Jungkook got with that. How was he supposed to start the conversation? Yo, you fucked all my friends, what gives? What about me? He could try to pick her up normally, but his ability of picking up women was talking to the ones he knew were interested in him first. And she was evidently not that, because he was just a damn asteroid floating mindlessly in her space. Probably not even an asteroid. Just a fleck of space dust.

He groaned and slumped down on his notebook, copying the stupid equation with a grumble.

Yoongi had a hickey and Jungkook knew who it came from because she was wearing the same black-and-white long-sleeved shirt Yoongi was wearing yesterday. Yoongi yawned and shrugged his jacket over it, but Jungkook saw it immediately.

What the fuck?

Jungkook fumed into his beer, the plastic cup shaking. How? Why?

And Yoongi again?

She was in the kitchen, chatting with a guy, stretching her arms he placed a mojito in front of her. The action made her shirt ride up and the short, short black shorts became visible. The hem sunk into her soft thighs, just a tad too small. It made Jungkook’s mouth water.

She thanked him before wandering back into the crowd, holding her cup. Ponytail bouncing, high-fiving some guys. Yoongi was on his phone, texting. Hoseok and Jimin couldn’t make it because of dance practice and Namjoon was working on some sort of seminar paper. Taehyung and Seokjin had dragged Yoongi out – “Eh, I have to watch out for you idiots anyway,” was Yoongi’s grumble as he picked up his car keys – and Jungkook tagged along because he was bored. Taehyung and Seokjin were playing was very drunk Twister for some reason and Yoongi had declined – “You’re all idiots” – leaving him with Jungkook. Which was fine, because Yoongi had a comfortable energy about him. Jungkook liked being in silence with him. Yoongi wasn’t drinking because he was driving.

So Jungkook was spacing out, watching her move amongst the crowd. Her free hand absentmindedly flicked up the back of her long shirt – well, Yoongi’s shirt technically – and pulled out her phone. The curve of her ass was clearly visible against the white parts of the shirt. She looked at it and typed something, hands tucked into the sleeves.

Yoongi’s phone buzzed next to him.

Jungkook’s mouth thinned into a line. He snuck a glance at Yoongi who, completely expressionless, responded. She was peering at her cell again and smirking.

Was it possible to pop a vein just by standing there?

Jungkook finished his beer.

“I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook didn’t see Yoongi raising as eyebrow as he stalked off.

Was he overthinking this? Was it a conspiracy? His brow furrowed as he moved closer to her. She turned her head in his direction and her eyes widened.

And she bolted.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Jungkook ran after her, pushing through the crowd, but she was much faster and knew where she was going. Twenty seconds in and he had lost sight of her. He stood in the center of the packed patio, confused as shit. When he got back to Yoongi, Yoongi was listening to something with his headphones.

“Something happen?” Yoongi asked absentmindedly.

“Who’s the girl you fucked last night?”

Yoongi paused. He removed a headphone from his ear. He tucked his tongue in his cheek and looked up at Jungkook, who was putting on his best annoyed face. Yoongi’s eyes shifted from the crowd and then back to Jungkook. He shrugged.

“Does it matter?”

“Why is there a woman wearing your shirt?”

Yoongi frowned. “A shirt’s a shirt. Is it that weird for a girl to own a shirt I also bought from a store?”

Jungkook made a face. He narrowed his eyes as Yoongi gave him a confused look.

“She just ran from me…”

Yoongi shrugged again. “I mean, you look really angry. I’d run from you too if I was a stranger.” He went back to his phone, scratching his cheek with his free hand. “Maybe she thought you were someone else.”

Was he going crazy?

The, uh, fifty-seventh? Who cared, Jungkook had lost count now. Once again, he spied her from across the sidewalk, in the crowd of students, holding three folders stuffed full with papers and balancing a coffee and her black backpack. Red crop top with a leather jacket and tight black jeans. At least it didn’t look like she had stolen anyone’s clothes this time… unless that jacket was from someone… Or even the crop top, because it wasn’t like Jungkook knew what her sexuality was to be honest.

Anyway!

Jungkook stopped walking. Their paths were going to cross if she continued walking. She took a sip from her coffee, leaving a red lipstick mark. She scowled at something on her folders. A piece of paper. She clicked her tongue, lashes looking downward, the same winged liner as usual. The paper flapped in the wind and she pushed it against her chest, looking perturbed.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Er, hello.”

She didn’t even look at him. She was chewing her lip, thinking. Jungkook had to stand in front of her for her to realize he was speaking to her.

“Oh.” She snapped out of her thoughts and stopped walking, tilting her head at him. “Um… Jeon Jungkook, right?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Er, yes. That’s me.”

She nodded. “Kim Taehyung’s friend, right?”

And Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Kim Seokjin’s friend, he thought with annoyance.

She blinked at him.

“What do you want?”

To FUCK because obviously you fucked everyone else!

Jungkook didn’t say that. His id definitely wanted to say that, but his superego told him to shut the fuck up. So that left Jungkook scrambling to think of an answer.

“Ah… I just so happened to see you last weekend. At that big party in the white house.”

She blinked and nodded. “Uh… huh.”

She did not seem to remember that she ran from him. Okay, fine. Take two.

“The shirt you were wearing… it’s Yoongi-hyung’s, isn’t it? He asked if I could get it back,” Jungkook lied.

She frowned. “Min Yoongi? You know him too?”

“Yeah. He’s my close friend.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Huh. Alright, I’ll talk to him about it the next time I see him.”

Or fuck him, he thought bitterly. “You could just give it to me.”

She chuckled. “For one, I don’t have it with me. And, for two,” she continued, small smirk on her lips. “I’m not giving it back. Thus, Yoongi and I need to have a little discussion about that.” There was a dangerous glint in her eye. “But it’s sweet of you to try anyway. Gotta get to class now, so see you, Jeon Jungkook.”

She brushed past him.

Is it that weird for a girl to own a shirt I also bought from a store?

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. He spun around. She was already ten feet away. Students milled about, hurrying, hurrying. He didn’t have any classes after this.

He followed her.

He sat outside the lecture hall. It was an upper-level psychology class. He could see her from the small window in the door and fiddled with his phone. There were less than thirty students and everyone was listening intently to the animated professor. She was focused, writing notes and answering questions when asked. She looked… normal. Just a normal student with normal priorities. She didn’t look like someone who could take shots like a champ and fuck literally every single one of his friends.

Maybe Jungkook was the crazy one.

He frowned, staring at his phone. Why would Yoongi lie to him? Well, it wasn’t like he was obligated to tell Jungkook anything about his sex life. In fact, he was probably thrown off by Jungkook asking him straight out, because who the fuck does that? To top it all off, she didn’t actually have to fuck him if she didn’t want to. If for some reason she wasn’t attracted to him (possible, Jungkook thought), then why was he trying? That was just rude.

Jungkook spun his phone around in his hands. Then he got up and grabbed his bag. His eyes flickered to the door.

She was staring straight at him, one hand under her chin, smirk on her plump lips.

And she winked.

Jungkook froze. What? That was literally the only attention she had initiated with him during all his time at university. The class seemed to be on break, with students talking amongst themselves and the teacher sipping his coffee at his desk. She cocked her chin at him and then raised her phone, tapping the screen. He looked down at his, not even realizing he had a new message.

From Min Yoongi-hyung.

Why are you lying and involving me?

Jungkook jerked his head up, but she was facing the other way now.

He ran.

“Kind of weird that you don’t want to come to the party, but, okay, man,” Taehyung was saying. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

Yeah, because if she was there, Jungkook could not look her in the face. He also couldn’t look Yoongi in the face either. Not that Yoongi ever brought it up again or even sent another text after that. Jungkook hadn’t even responded to it. He ran a hand through his long hair, staring in the mirror as Taehyung chatted with him.

“Alright, I’m off. Let me know if you decide to show up.”

Jungkook sat in his dorm, shirtless. He didn’t have a roommate – he had one of the few single rooms to himself. He didn’t really want a roommate and none of his friends lived on campus anyway. He liked his own space. Plus, it made fucking someone a lot less awkward if he was living alone. He fell back against the bed. He didn’t actually have a paper to write. He had written it earlier and it was good enough. He just…

Didn’t want to make a fucking fool of himself again.

Jungkook rubbed his forehead. This whole situation wasn’t even a situation. It was him in his head dreaming up stupid shit. It didn’t actually matter. It was only filling his head with confusing thoughts and indecision.

But still… why?

He placed his right forearm over his eyes. The black script tattoo was healing and he was planning to add more soon. He sighed, thinking. He worked out. Had a (more than) decent face. Got pretty good grades (for someone who didn’t try very hard). So, why? Did she really not consider it, not even once? They were around the same people, the same crowd, and never? Not even in a drunken stupor? Jungkook clicked his tongue. Did she have a type? It didn’t seem like it; everyone in his friend group was very different, looks-wise and personality-wise. She was attractive, of course. You couldn’t sleep with that many people and not be hot. Juicy thighs, perky ass, nice shape to her tits. A playful face with a smile that made you fall in love. Dimples on both cheeks when she laughed really hard. Ugh. So cute. Lovely-shaped lips that reminded Jungkook of Jimin’s.

Okay, that last thought was a little weird.

Anyway!

Jungkook sighed again. He sat up, intending to get on his computer and play something. Maybe Overwatch or League. He looked down at his gray sweatpants. Oh.

Well, maybe he should jack off first.

Before he could decide however, there was a knock on the door. The RA? He got up, shaking his sweatpants. Hopefully the bagginess would mask it. Plus, talking with the RA wasn’t sexy, so he was pretty sure his dick would pass out by then anyway.

Jungkook opened the door.

She smirked at him.

Jungkook closed the door.

She shoved her black boot in the opening, preventing him.

“No, you don’t, Jeon Jungkook.”

He backed up, shell-shocked. She pushed the door open and walked into his room. Hair over her shoulders, the same winged eyeliner and red lip stain. The black collar with the silver ring, the same one she had worn the first time he saw her. Pink dress shirt, the one she grabbed as Jimin face-fucked her. White t-shirt underneath, the one Taehyung had worn as he fucked her from behind. Both too big for her, so she wore no pants. Just thigh-high white socks and her thick-soled black boots with the silver tips, the ones she wore when she sat in the booth with Seokjin.

In short, Jungkook’s dick snapped to attention like a scared newbie army recruit.

She tucked her tongue in her cheek and raised her eyebrows at him. Jungkook seemed to come back to reality and slapped his arms across his chest. He was shirtless, after all.

“H-how did you figure out what dorm I was in?” he sputtered. “And w-what room?”

She tilted her head. “Friend of a friend, of a friend, of a friend, of a friend… of a friend,” she said slowly, tongue poking out a little from between her lips when she paused. “I know some people.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly. “W-well, why are you here?”

She kicked his door casually behind her. It slammed shut, making him jump.

“Because,” she drawled, holding up her hand, lowering a finger as she made each point. “One, you decided to speak to me, only to lie to my face. Two.” Another finger went down. “You stalked me outside my Psychology of Anger class. Three.” Down it went. “When you realized you got found out, you ran away. Four.” Down. “Every time you see me walking around campus, I see you throwing yourself in the opposite direction as if you’re being attacked. Yeah, I notice, because you’re not subtle about it,” she added, chuckling. Jungkook felt his ears turn red. “And finally, five.” Her hand was a fist now. “Before that, you gawked at me every time I happened to be within eyesight of you. With your big round eyes, almost as if you were spacing out. Sometimes with your mouth open.” She twisted her lips to one side for half a second. “Kind of disorienting, really.”

Jungkook thought back to all those moments. Her eyes on him when he saw Namjoon press her against the wall. Her eyes flickering towards him when she was at the table with Hoseok. The shift when she was kissing Seokjin at the booth. Oh, God. The half-second before he closed the door, her eye on him as she sucked Jimin off. The light on her face as she was reading Yoongi’s text on her phone, her pupils on him. She knew. She knew, she knew, she fucking knew.

Jungkook’s lips parted. “Then why… why did you run?”

She raised her eyebrow. Then she nodded her head slowly, finally understanding. “Ah. Yes, that time at the party. I thought you were some kind of weird stalker, honestly. I really don’t have time to spend on creeps.”

A shameful shiver slid down his back. She thought he was a creep. Of course, she did, because literally everything he witnessed was sexual in nature and he was fucking ogling the entire time, holy fuck.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, the rest of the guys straightened me out.”

Rest of the guys? What? THEY ALL KNEW TOO?

“You just want to fuck.”

God, Jungkook thought. If there is a God, please just open the Earth and throw me in Hell right now.

“I-I don’t–what–that’s preposterous–how would you even know–”

Jungkook was tripping over every word as she stood there, tapping her foot against the ground. He lost track of his thought and made a strange noise of defeat. Her lips curved into a slow smile.

“Well, technically, I didn’t know,” she said slowly. “I guessed and it looks like I guessed right.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh holyfuckingshitcrap.

If Taehyung or Jimin were witnessing this right now, they would have face-palmed.

She licked her lips. It made Jungkook’s stomach flutter uncomfortably.

“Anyway, I figured it would be better for you to be alone when I told you this.” She shrugged. One shoulder of the pink dress shirt fluttered down, revealing a shoulder. “It seemed like it might have been embarrassing for you, and judging by your beet-red face and tomato ears, I am correct.”

Jungkook slapped his hands on his cheeks. “W-what, of course not, hahaha…”

“You got a tent in your pants, kid.”

He looked down and tore his hands from his face to place them over his crotch. “Erm.”

She chuckled and shrugged again. “Well, since that’s the case, I’ll leave you be then. Just didn’t want things to be weird between us, that’s all. And found out you aren’t a creep. Only a shy, awkward boy.”

Then she turned around and reached for the door handle.

Jungkook crossed the space between them within two steps and slammed a hand on the door, preventing her from opening it.

“Wait.”

He was staring at the back of her head. Her hair had a warm, herbal scent. He could see the slope of the pink dress shirt, outlining her shoulder blades under the thin white t-shirt. He was so close that he could even spy he straps of her pink bra underneath the white fabric. Looked even further and he spotted the point that the dress shirt stuck out a bit from the curve of her ass.

“I’m not… a boy,” he said slowly. His voice came out lower than he thought.

He heard her make a light scoff.

“You expect answers without asking the questions,” she replied, still not turning around. “Not everything will be handed to you just because you’re cute.”

Pause.

“Boy.”

Jungkook knew how she managed to sleep with all of them now. She pressed every single one of his buttons, perfectly, within a single conversation. He placed his other hand on the door, fingers spread out. Took a step forward and pressed his body against hers, relishing in the softness. One of his hands slid down and snaked between the space of the door and her face, cupping her chin. He pushed it up so her eyes met his. Her teasing, perfect eyes.

“Wanna fuck, then?” he breathed against her forehead.

Her lips curved into a slow, foxlike smile. For a half-second, Jungkook thought she would say no.

“Now we’re talking.”

Jungkook had experience. He knew what women liked. But he did not know what this woman liked, because this woman was the embodiment of a fucking enigma. And at this point he was quite sure she had him mostly figured out. For instance, she pressed back against him, ass perched right on his cock, making him gasp. Her hand came up and she slid his fingers up her chin, opening her mouth slowly. He stared, transfixed. Her pink tongue slid out and she pushed two of his fingers in her mouth, wrapping her warm, wet tongue around them.

Sucking on them. Slipping her tongue around his fingers, single eyebrow lifted as she drenched them with saliva, so wet that his cock twitched at the thought of being in that hole. She placed her lips around them and used her tongue to push them to the roof of her mouth, sinking down to his knuckles.

Jungkook really couldn’t breathe, watching his dirty display of power.

Her hand was still wrapped around his. Slowly, she pulled his fingers out of her mouth, strings of saliva snapping as his fingers trailed out with a small pop. Jungkook shivered. The pink dress shirt was sliding down her arms, onto the floor.

She straightened her head and turned around slowly. She kicked the shirt aside, looking up at him through his lashes. His heart was beating so fast that he thought it was going to beat out of his chest.

“Why… why do you take their clothes?” Jungkook whispered.

She grinned. She looked down at his bare chest. Reached out, fingertips dancing in the air. Her nails slowly made their way up the ladder of his abs, eyes finding his once again.

“I like to remember who did a good job fucking me,” she replied steadily, so calm and cool that it was ruining him, driving him insane. “Let’s see if you’re so lucky.”

She flattened her palm against his toned pecs and let it slide up. Jungkook couldn’t look away from her face. She snaked her arm around his neck, fingers tangling in his long hair. She pulled his head back roughly.

He whimpered.

Help.

She got on her tiptoes; lips so close. Her other arm came around his waist. She rolled her hips into his. Delicious, sweet friction. Held him there as she dry-humped him, agonizingly slowly, breathing against his shaking lips. The only thing holding him up was his one hand against the door.

“You like that, little one?”

Jungkook wasn’t little. She was saying it to provoke him and it was working even though he didn’t want it to. He tried not to gasp or make any indication that he was enjoying it, but his hips were already moving, pushing back, frantic for more. Her tongue slithered out and brushed against his lips. He moaned. Had he ever been more desperate for a kiss? More desperate for anything more than just simple dry-humping at his fucking dorm door? Her grip on his hair tightened, pulling a little harder.

“What if I leave you here?” she taunted, digging her nails into his side. “What if I let go and leave you here, needy and lonely, without me to take care of you?”

What was going on? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how he was supposed to end up. Why couldn’t he collect himself?

“Please don’t…” he whined. His hand on the door balled into a fist. “Please.”

She kissed him.

Oh, fuck.

Lips so soft, barely any pressure, tongue on his lips. Poking, teasing him. Jungkook moaned, mouth opening and the tip barely thrust in. His whole body shivered as she slid it in and out between his lips. There wasn’t enough. Wasn’t enough pressure, not enough tongue, not enough forcefulness. He whined, jerking his hips into hers, trying to suck her tongue into his mouth, but it slipped away every time. Then her lips pressed fully against his and she mouthed the words on his lips. He knew what she said even before the sound touched his ears.

“Want more, little one?”

Yes. Oh, please, yes.

But he couldn’t say it because his lips were trapped against hers. She softly kissed him, over and over, hardly deep enough or passionate enough for his liking, infuriatingly not adequate and all of it on purpose. She pushed him into the room, away from the door, making him stumble. Jungkook could only break apart for half a second to choke out one word – “shoes” – but she was already removing her arm from his waist, zipping down her boot and kicking it aside, and then the other, pushing his head down to hers the entire time so she could make out with him.

Then, she pushed them apart.

He nearly tripped, forced to take several steps back. He was panting, out of breath as if he had been running for a long time. Jungkook lifted his head to her crafty expression. He could be the dominant one. He knew he could. But she wasn’t letting him. She had him in the palm of her hand, even now, even in this slight second of breath, the single moment of sanity, and then it was gone because she was lifting her shirt, the white t-shirt crumpling and thrown aside, landing on his desk, on his laptop. The pink, polka-dotted bra molded to her sinful breasts, so innocent-looking. They matched the tiny pink polka-dotted panties that pressed into her skin, complimenting her white thigh-high stockings that clamped around the softness.

His brain?

Broken. It was frozen at this image of this hot-as-fuck woman dropping to her knees and crawling on her hands towards him. Each movement a little closer, a lion stalking her prey and he was the frozen antelope, unable to run. She stopped right in front of him, straightening. And then, the smallest detail, spreading her thighs so he could see the faint wet spot between her panties. He could see her cleavage, the curve of her breasts as she trailed her hands up her thighs, her stomach, bending around her breasts, up her neck, tracing the silver ring and black leather of her choker, mouth opening to her wet tongue, a single fingertip touching the end.

“Wanna be in here, little one?” she murmured around her finger, eyes half-lidded.

“Fuck yes.”

If Jungkook could gather his last two brain cells, he would have sounded a whole lot less desperate, but at the moment those two brain cells had abandoned their post, leaving him an absolute mess as she hooked her fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear and dragged them down, down, exposing his leaking cock out in the open. Fuck, she looked so smug and he couldn’t do anything about it as she leaned in with a soft kitten lick, wiping it away.

“Let me ask you something before I start,” she purred.

Jungkook blinked. “O-okay…”

“Were you upset that I fucked all your friends and never, ever asked you?”

His eyes widened.

She smirked and wrapped her lips around his cock. His brain cells came back from their lunch break to Jungkook screwing his eyes shut and throwing his head back as she bobbed her head up and down his cock, deep, slow, wet. Tongue rubbing all around him, hands gripping his hips. He didn’t know what to do with his hands because he didn’t want to mess with her pace so he curled them into fists, sinking his nails into his palms as he moaned, feeling the head smack the back of her throat, muscles squeezing him hard and tight. Because she had been so soft and teasing less than ten seconds ago, Jungkook was not prepared for this wild intensity. She was literally deep-throating his cock like nobody’s business and he was trying very, very hard not to bust his load within seconds because that would be fucking embarrassing as shit. He forced his eyes open to look down at her, panting.

“S-stop…” he pleaded, but she wasn’t stopping. “P-please, stop, I want to f-fuck you.”

The slightest tick of her eyebrow. She stared up at him. It was too sexy. He chomped down on his tongue, anything to feel something else than the overwhelming pleasure from being in her mouth.

“P-please… want to fuck your p-pussy…”

She slowed, still making eye contact with him. She didn’t completely stop until she was all the way down his cock, saliva dripping out and down his balls. She didn’t get off him. Just watched him, pulsing her throat around his dick. Jungkook got it. She wanted him to beg. Her throat squeezed him extra hard and he whimpered. He bit his lower lip.

Pride? What pride?

“Please…” Oh, God, was that him? That wretched, pitiful whine, so wrecked and barely anything happened. “Please, let me fuck your pussy. Let me inside you. Let me pleasure you.” She blinked slowly. Not enough. “You made me wait so long…” His eyes raked over her sensual body, his skin burning. “You fucked them all and made me wait, made me want you, made me think about you all the time, made me crazy knowing everyone had you, but me.”

What even was this? He had never begged like this in his entire life, but he was ruined and destroyed by this beautiful woman whose red lips were around his cock.

“I want you to use my cock and make you cum, just for me. Want you to watch me when I fuck you, want you to moan for me, want you to say my name with those lips.”

Her eyes sparkled. She drew back, slowly. His cock achingly, deliberately popped out of her tight, wet mouth and he cried out softly, almost regretful that he didn’t ask for her to finish him then. She got off her knees, sliding up his body, his cock hitting her stomach and then her thigh, smearing saliva and pre-cum on her smooth skin. She pursed her lips against his, the tiniest peck, and he could taste himself, a slight hint of his own cum.

“Alright, Jungkook,” she said slowly, reaching into her bra and pulling out a condom. Of course, she had a condom in her bra. “I’ll let you fuck me.”

She smacked the warm foil packet against his chest.

Fuck, the way she said his name. So velvety, so wanton. She moved past him and Jungkook turned around, condom in hand, watching as she faced him, unhooking her pink bra. It peeled off her body and dropped to the floor, tits bouncing. She pressed her hard nipples in between two fingers and tugged, giving him a little gasp and a peek of her pink tongue from between her plump lips. He followed, swallowing hard as she backed up to his bed, hopping up and sliding back. Jungkook made it to the end of his bed and watched as she linked two fingers on the sides of her panties and pushed them down, lifting her legs up and together as she slid them off.

Thus, providing Jungkook with a shockingly clear view of her glistening pussy lips.

She lowered her legs and spread them. Wearing nothing but those white thigh-high socks and the black choker around her neck.

“Holy fuck.”

She smirked. “Come here, little one.”

At this point, he was beginning to enjoy this nickname. Either that or Jungkook was so horny that she could call him anything and he was still going to climb onto the bed, chewing on his lip, hand over hand, breath hitching as he neared, smelling her arousal. His eyes flickered to hers. She tilted her head and nodded. He bent down and licked her slit, long and slow, groaning as her sweet, thick taste coated his tongue. Oh, if only he had more patience to eat her out. Instead, his cock was dripping an embarrassing amount of pre-cum onto his sheets, so he got to his knees, unwrapping the condom and sliding it on, somewhat grateful for it so that he wouldn’t explode within two seconds of being inside her. He positioned himself at her entrance, lifting her legs.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

He shifted his attention to her face. He felt her hand reach down and guide him to the correct angle.

“Look at me when you go in,” she said, smirking.

His eyes widened as he pushed inward, slow, centimeter by centimeter, feeling her warmth cover him and shake him to his core, her eyes boring into his, satisfaction glittering in those orbs as he gasped at her tightness, her wetness, her heat. Breathing so shallow Jungkook felt like he was ready to pass out, thrusting the last of his cock inside her so he was fully buried, his entire length squeezed by her pussy.

She lifted herself up and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers in his long dark hair. She pulled lightly and he moaned, lips trembling.

“You like that, little one?” she murmured, lips against his cheek, licking him lightly. “You like your hair pulled?” She kissed his chiseled jaw, clenching around his cock.

“Y-yes,” he whimpered. “A l-little…”

Her tongue wrapped around his earlobe, playing with his earrings. He could feel her hard nipples rub against his chest as she pressed her body against him. She pulled again and he moaned into her ear, shuddering as she paired the pain with the pulse of her pussy.

“I like the sounds you make,” she whispered. “Let me mark you, little one.”

He swallowed, still unable to move because he was in her gravity now, lost in her smokey voice.

“Yes, please…”

She kissed down his ear softly, lips against the pulse point under his ear. She bit his skin, sucking hard, rolling her hips onto his cock. His eyelids fluttered as she bit him, hard and unforgiving. Sharp, wet sounds. He whimpered and she ran her tongue over the bruised skin before kissing down further, finding the spot where his neck and shoulder connected. She pressed her lips against it and he swallowed in anticipation.

“Jungkook.”

“Y-yeah?”

He could feel her lips form the words she was spoke into his skin.

“Your cock feels nice inside me.”

She bit him again, hard. His eyes rolled back into his head, cock swelling at the compliment and the pain radiating through him as she pulled on his hair, sucking his skin, rutting her wet, tight pussy onto his cock. The euphoric ecstasy was unlike anything Jungkook had ever felt before. It was just a hickey and some hair pulling while he was cock-deep into a woman, but it was so much more, the soft kitten licks as she soothed the irritated flesh, the rubbing of his scalp, and the throbbing around his cock.

She finally let him go, leaning back. Her hair fanned out on his pillows, lipstick smeared, tongue between her teeth. He really thought the first time was going to be at some shitty party where he was half-drunk and confused, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t like that at all. Instead, she cocked her chin at him, giving him an open-mouthed smirk as she looked up at him from his bed.

“Fuck me, Jungkook.”

He began to move, starting slow and deep, gasping at the feeling. Her eyes drifted from his face to his cock moving in and out of her, then back up to his face. She was letting him do as he wanted, he knew. Jungkook could tell from her expression, giving him the reins for once. He scooted up, still fucking her leisurely as he lifted his hands and touched her nipples with his fingertips. He pushed them in a circle, rubbing them, closing his eyes. They were hard but soft, so fun to touch as he thrust his cock inside her. He pinched them and he whimpered as her pussy squeezed him. He did it again and felt it again. He cupped her breasts and did it again, pulling a little his time. She made a breathless moan and he opened his eyes, seeing hers shrouded with lust. He held her nipple between his index and ring finger, using his middle finger to rub the hardened nub. She gasped softly, whispering his name.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Jungkook panted, feeling his hips thrust harder, spurred on by her noises. She pressed her head against his pillows, crying out as he increased his pace, rubbing her nipples harder.

“Harder, little one,” she purred, rolling her hips into his. “Want to feel your cock in the deepest parts of me.”

He pinched her nipples, hard, and she moaned with a teasing smile as he let go, placing his hands back on the bed for leverage. His long hair brushed into his eyes but he didn’t care, ramming his hips into her, hearing the harsh, loud slap of their bodies. She hissed out his name, tipping her head back as she lifted her arms above her head, clutching his pillows.

“That’s it, Jungkook,” she panted as he pounded her into his bed, feeling her pussy tighten and throb around him. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

He did, hard, rough, gasping at her pretty lips opened and her eyes closed in bliss, enjoying his cock, just his, enjoying the way he felt, enjoying his hips slapping into hers and his cock twitching inside her.

“Need you to cum for me,” he growled, surprised at his own rawness. “Need you to cum all over my cock. Need to feel you.” A hint of desperation juxtaposed with his order. He wanted her to fall apart with his cock, wanted to watch her unravel as she came with his cock.

She cracked her eyes open and wrapped her legs around his waist, thighs squeezing him. Oh, fuck. Eyes that said, go for it. Do it if you can.

He rammed his hips into her, pounding into her over and over, so hard the bed squealed at the force, so deep her fingers gripping his sheets were white, her moans filling his room, imprinting in his memory.

“A-ah, Jungkooooook.”

His name dragged out, mixed with a moan, cock twitching at her back arching, tits bouncing with his thrusts.

“So good, so good… Gonna cum for you, just for you, Jungkook...”

And then he felt it, the heated, throbbing squeeze and the instant squelch of liquid dripping out and sliding down his balls, soaking into his sheets. The scent of her sex so heavy and sweet that he was drunk, slowing so he could feel her pussy pulsating around him, vibrating his entire length.

“W-why do you feel so good?” he whined, shoving his cock so deep she jerked up his pillows. She chuckled, but he kept going, back to his rough pace, because he couldn’t wait anymore. He needed to cum. He needed it now, deep inside her pussy, her scent on his skin, her foxy eyes on him.

“You wanna cum for me, little one?” she panted out, licking her lips. “Want to feel your cock get milked by my pussy?”

Jungkook sucked in a breath, clenching his jaw as he nodded fiercely, unable to respond. She reached up and he knew what was coming and he wanted it, wanted it so fucking bad. His long hair was smacking him in the face but she collected it back, only leaving a few strands on his sweaty forehead.

“Cum for me, Jungkook. Fill me up.”

And then she yanked on his hair, hard, tearing a gasp from his lips. The pain shot through him, igniting every nerve, the pleasure of her pussy clenching him as he kept going, slapping his hips into hers, feeling the pull on his hair every time he sank in. Jungkook was doing it to himself now and he loved every second of it. The familiar tightening coiled inside him, so sharp and sudden that he almost screamed as he came, the orgasm racking his entire body as she pulled his head back with his hair, moaning with him as she came again, throbbing as he shot into the condom, cock jerking with force against her walls.

His whole body shuddered as the aftershocks faded. Oh, shit. He was winded, throat dry. Someone must have heard. Holy fuck. Jungkook had never cum so hard in his entire life.

Her hand let go of his hair. She rubbed his scalp. He closed his eyes, his body rising and falling as he exhaled.

“Did I live up to your expectations, little one?”

The next day, Jungkook ran into Taehyung at the usual coffee spot. It was the weekend, so Jungkook hadn’t expected to see him. Taehyung looked super hungover and barely alive as he ordered a coffee in his raspy, deep voice.

“Damn, are you dead?” Jungkook asked playfully as Taehyung stumbled to him, trying not to spill his coffee. Taehyung hated coffee, so he must have really needed it for some reason or another.

“Probably. I forgot I have a paper due on Monday.” He took a sip of it and made a disgusted face. “I hate this shit.”

Jungkook spied her walking up to the counter. She rubbed her chin and ordered a tea, handing over her card. She was wearing a white crop top, black baseball cap, and short leather jacket.

And his gray sweatpants.

Taehyung squinted at his neck.

“The fuck happened to you? Someone punch you in the neck?”

Jungkook slapped a hand over his hickey. “Er…”

She breezed past them, not looking at them as she hurried along, checking her phone for the time. Taehyung whipped his head around, recognizing her instantly. And the sweatpants.

“Yah! She told me she was going to study!” He whipped his head back to Jungkook, who looked away immediately. “Study your dick, apparently!”

“Uh…”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes and grumbled as he walked away.

“Well, get in line, bitch.”

sister story: meteor, m | myg

masterpost

note: Yes, I am aware League of Legends has changed the entire item inventory for 2021 preseason. I haven’t played the new patch since I wrote this. Just pretend this all happened before the preseason patch, okay? lol

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic

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levi-akerman248 · 4 years ago

Text

Levi x male reader HC

Levi trying to hint at his oblivious male s/o

This kind of switches from first to third pov a bit, sorry

When you first got with Levi, sex was not something that occurred often. Even now after years of being together, it’s not too common

Usually you have sex after a expeditions, when you’ve both seen a lot of death and need to be as close as possible to reassure that you’re both still there. Or on your anniversary or when one or both of you have been super stressed

So when one random evening, Levi came to you and asked to have sex you were confused

“I need you.”

You looked up from the paper you were reading and raised an eyebrow

“For what? Did something happen?”

Levi was absentmindedly fidgeting with his cravat

“Not like that brat, mean I….like need you.”

You were still confused, what did he need you for? Did he need you for a meeting? To supervise his cadets? What?

“What do you mean”

Levi groaned, “are you- oh my fuck you are so fucking dense brat”

“How am I-“

You were cut off when Levi came around your desk and pushed your chair so he could kneel by your feet.

He knelt down and pulled your chair close, his mouth inches from your clothed cock

“Wha- what are you-“

Levi glared up at you,

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Y/n gulped and blush covered his cheeks

‘Cute.’ Levi thought as he started pulling off your lower straps and pants

Levi had randomly gotten turned on while working, he let his mind wonder for two seconds and it betrayed him

He was annoyed but mostly embarrassed that he got hard so easy, like a fucking sex crazed teenager

Once his brain sent him an image of his lovers cock, he couldn’t think anymore

Now here he was, 30 minutes before a meeting and pulling out y/n’s thick cock so he could have a taste

Y/n let out a moan and weaved his finger through Levi’s hair, gripping it tightly

The feeling of Levi’s warm, wet mouth around your cock. How innocent he looked on his knees in front of you, how skillfully he wrapped his tongue around your tip

It was heaven, you couldn’t think of anywhere better on earth then right here

You used your grip in Levi’s hair to move him up and down on your cock, loving how he moaned, looking up at you with tears pricking his eyes

You forced your cock up and down his throat for a few minutes before you released your load into his mouth

You watched with hazed eyes as he swallows it all before licking your cock clean

He gets up and wipes his mouth before looking at you with his natural blank face, but you could see desire and a bit of smugness in his eyes

“Thanks for the treat.”

He turned and walked away, leaving you dazed in your chair

————————-

At the meeting, Erwin spoke out to Levi

“What’s that on your shirt?”

Levi looked down and saw that some of your release had somehow managed to drip on his chest

He grumbled, ‘God damn it, that’s gonna be a bitch to get out’

Sorry, I kinda wrote this randomly without checking for spelling and such😅

#levi ackerman smut #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi x male reader #levi smut #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi aot

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stayinurlaneboi · 4 years ago

Text

Fic Recs

Pics Text Masterlists Gifs Videos Audio CGs

last updated: April 14, 2022

ＳＫ８ＴＨＥＩＮＦＩＮＩＴＹ

Reki

he loves 2 things; you and skating

tryna woo bestie!reader

falling asleep on him

boyfriend hcs

teaching his s/o how to skate

relationship hcs

bf!reki an bestie!langa accidentally hurts you

Skaters

senpai!s/o

boyfie hcs

they look super fuckin sus from an outsiders pov

relationship hcs ver2

v-day with them

teaching s/o how to skate

ＨＡＩＫＹＵＵ

Oikawa Tooru

a series of almosts

sweet as candy

wish that time would stop

kiss me some more

when he realizes hes in love

not used to this version of love

watching his fangirls fall for his s/o

your fighting but he still cares

a quiet kind of love

“i dont like it when you ignore me”

missing you every second of every day

boyfie hc

“are you blushing?”

Bokuto Kotarou

good luck charms

Kuroo Tetsurou

“i had a bad dream, can i sleep with you?”

wishful thinking

Kenma Kozume

joining in on his streams

would you be so kind by dodie

2:58 am

dating streamer kenma

Ushijima Wakatoshi

he a big ol himbo

Vollyballers

they’re super tired so they flop onto s/o

you give them a scrunchie before an away game

with an s/o who loves to hold him

sitting in his lap ver2

realizing that their s/o is t i n y compared to them

im comin home

caught simpin

helping you fall asleep

secret gf hc

falling in love ver2

distracting them with kisses

when you randomly give them your hand

lovesick

youtubes top couples

falling asleep on facetime

tiktok couple trends

sleepy cuddles

kabedon challenge

long distance s/o suprises

little habits

captains gone soft

clingy babies

being ignored by their s/o

s/o loves long hugs

wearing their hoodie

first kiss setter edition

scrunchie thievery

accidentally getting locked in the storage room with their crush

s/o makes lunch and snackies for the whole team ver2

which haikyuu boy would spoil the shit outta their s/o ver2

what they would use as their phone background

nicknames

calling them by their first name for the first time ver2

falling asleep on his shoulder ver2

needy cuddle hc

sleeping on the couch after an argument

captain cuddles

when their bestie starts to hollow out

s/o likes to play with their hair

“ooh you wanna kiss me so bad”

when they have a crush

nightmare where they think you broke up with them

shutting you up with a kiss

the little gifts you get from him

“i could always find someone better” angst

small ways to show they care

how they love

poly!third year seijoh

poly! kagehina

“can you hold me”

“pretty boy”

things they love about you

s/o is scared of physical affection

holding onto crush when in a crowd

teaching you how to kiss

having a crush hc

what makes them blush

when you fall asleep on them

how they show ily

random boyfie things

stealing things from them

crush draws a heart on their hand

cuddling hcs ver2

theres only one bed 1 2

Team Manager

Karasuno 1 2

Seijoh 1 2

Nekoma 1 2

Seijoh/Inarizaki/Nekoma

#archive

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miss-noo-na · 6 years ago

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Adventures in Babysitting a K-pop Star (Jaehyun Fluff)

Title: Adventures in Babysitting a K-pop Star

Featuring: Jaehyun (NCT) x Reader

POV: Third

Rating: PG-13

Summary: A crazy famous popstar you’ve never heard of wanders into your job, and through a series of unfortunate events he is now your responsibility for the rest of the day.

Note: This piece was commissioned! If you’d like a commission of your own, check out my sidebar under “request” for information.

She carried a stack of books out to the table in front of the shop window, plopping them down with a thud and swiping her hand over the top to clear any dust. She took a moment to peer out the big bay window and sigh, it was gorgeous today and she was stuck at work.

Things could be worse, she thought to herself. Her job was quiet for the most part, a used bookstore owned by an old man who hardly ever came in. Most days it was just her, sometimes another coworker. Today she was alone and since it was slow, she’d taken it upon herself to start up on the new summer reading display geared toward teens. She had scoured the backroom of donations for anything that might entice a young mind, and went about her set-up.

Some music played faintly over the PA system, and she hummed as she meticulously chose where each one would go, making sure it could be seen around the handmade sign. A sound caught her attention then, and she looked over her shoulder toward the window as a gaggle of teenage girls congregated in front of the store. Their voices were loud and excited and she wondered what all the fuss was about, glancing at them periodically as she continued her display work. They started to move down the sidewalk again and she shrugged to herself, going about her business.

A few minutes later there were high-pitched screams that made her nearly jump out of her skin, and she moved quickly to the window to see what was going on. The girls ran past the window, obviously after something, but they appeared to be screaming in joy, which only made her more confused. Suddenly, the bell above the entrance clanged noisily overhead before it slammed shut again.

She peered around the corner of the window and saw a man there, panting heavily with his back pressed against the door, eyes closed.

“Uh, can I help you?” She asked, and the man’s eyes shot open as he stood up straight.

“Oh, sorry, no. I mean, maybe?” He said peering around the bookstore and seeing it was empty. He was young, and handsome, almost too handsome.

“Were you looking for a book?” She asked, feeling increasingly uneasy with his strange presence.

“Not quite, I was just trying to hide.”

Her eyes went a little wide as she took a step back.

“Those girls out there were looking for me,”

She looked at the window, recalling the ecstatic teenagers, then back at him.

“Why?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. “Um, they are kind of my fans.”

She crossed her arms and gave him an incredulous look. “Fans?”

“Yeah, I’m a singer and-” He stopped himself, “Sorry, you don’t care about this, let me just call someone to-” He started to feel his jean pockets and his face dropped, “Shit.”

“Are you o-” She went to ask, but he started to curse under his breath and push his hand through his hair, pacing around in place as he felt through his pockets again, as if what he was looking for might magically appear. “Mark must have my phone,” He said more so to himself.

She was starting to get a little annoyed by this situation, as she just wanted to put up her display in peace and not deal with someone else’s issues. “Look, can I help you with something or are you just-”

She was interrupted again when they could both hear the escalated voices of girls coming back down the street, and the man’s face went tight with panic. “I have to hide somewhere,”

“That’s a little ridiculous” She sighed, but he was already looking for somewhere to go.

“Please? You’d be doing me a huge favor,” He begged, glancing at the door that read “Staff Only”

She looked to consider it for a moment, as the girl’s voices got louder toward the entrance of the shop. She relented with a heavy sigh.

“Fine,” She said, crossing over to the door to unlock it and let him in.

“Thank you so much” He said, and she mumbled something back and shut it behind him, just as the bell rang and a large group came in.

“Hello ladies,” She turned and plastered on her customer service smile. “Looking for anything in particular today?”

“Oh, we’re fine.” One small girl piped up, “Just looking.”

She nodded and gave the group a once over, a diverse looking bunch roughly 15-18 years old, all wearing similar shirts in a red and white logo she didn’t recognize. She remembered the man saying something about being a singer, and she wondered if he was telling the truth. If he was, he seemed awfully popular for someone she didn’t recognize. She’d like to think she had at least a basic knowledge of current music.

The group moved through the stacks, chatting in their noisy, excited way. She went to sit behind the register, glancing at the staff door every now and then, but also trying to eavesdrop on the girls.

“I can’t believe I touched his arm.”

“Oh my god, his is so soft.”

“I feel kind of bad that he ran away, though.”

She tapped a pen on her chin, thinking maybe he had been truthful all along.

The girls didn’t stay long, they shuffled out and she called out for them to have a nice day. When their voice were no longer audible, she went and opened the staff door.

“Hey, thanks a lot.”

“So a singer, huh?”

He laughed and his smile lit up his face, making his eyes crease and dimples show on his cheeks, which hit her funny.

”Uh, yeah. I’m in a group. I was actually doing some sightseeing with a few of the guys when we got separated. Usually the fans are nice, but sometimes they’re a bit…” He searched for the words.

“Overzealous?” She helped, remembering what it was like to be young and hormonal.

“Right, exactly.”

There was an awkward pause before he stuck out his hand. “I’m Jaehyun, by the way.”

She nodded and offered her name back. “So how come I’ve never heard of you?” She asked, somewhat teasing.

“Oh, we’re not from here.”

“What, this city?”

“No, this country.”

“Oh.” She blinked, as that would explain everything.

“We’re from South Korea, but we’re on a US tour.” He explained, although he almost seemed embarrassed about it.

“Speaking of which, I kind of have a huge favor to ask you.” He said, fidgeting with his hands. She waited with a curious expression.

“I don’t have any money on me and my phone is gone, I can’t remember anyone’s number without it, do you think you could drive me to the venue?”

She was taken aback by the request, glancing around the bookstore that only she was manning. Plus, she didn’t know this guy.

“I’m kind of working,” She said, shrugging sympathetically.

“Ah, it’s okay, I’ll figure something out.” He said as he started for the door. “Thanks for letting me hide, have a nice day.” He gave a friendly smile and a wave as he walked out.

She walked back over to her display, trying to distract herself with her task again, but as she peered out the window she saw Jaehyun idling on the sidewalk, looking up at a street sign and rubbing his head, clearly lost. She huffed, walking hastily into the employees office, grabbing her things, and shutting off the lights.

She exited the book store and locked it up, Jaehyun turning toward her as she did so.

“Where’s the venue?” She asked and Jaehyun blinked.

“Oh, you don’t have to close the store, I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “We’re dead today anyway, I doubt my boss will notice. Plus, I can’t have you stranded out here like a lost puppy.” She explained, wondering if she should have’ kept that part to herself. He did look like a cute little retriever out there on the sidewalk with his soft face and fair hair.

“That’s really kind of you, the venue is on Main street...I think?”

She paused a moment. “That’s clear across town.”

Jaehyun laughed nervously. “Yeeeah, look its fine I can just-”

“The shop’s already closed, come on.” She gestured for him to follow, not even believing she was doing this.

They walked through an alley to the parking lot for employees only. Her car wasn’t what you would call….new. It was a beater of a silver Sedan from the 80′s, but it ran and it had air conditioning and that was all that mattered on a book sellers budget.

She got in and cleared a jacket and some stray receipts from the passenger seat, feeling a little self-conscious about the state of her vehicle, thinking this guy must be used to being chauffeured around in limos or something, if he was really famous.

“I don’t usually have guests.” She said, and Jaehyun laughed it off, telling her not to worry about it.

She propped her phone up on its holder and put the coordinates into the GPS, realizing the mid-day traffic on a weekend was going to be a bitch. Jaehyun made a pained face at the phone when the drive time came up.

“Sorry.” He said, looking down.

“Hey, it’s my fault for agreeing to it.” She replied with good humor, and that seemed to ease some of the tension.

They didn’t say much at first, Jaehyun staring out the window as they traversed the city, but once they were on the freeway and things were at a not-quite-crawling but not too fast pace, she spoke up.

“Did you at least get to see enough of the city?” She asked, glancing at him.

“A little.” He shrugged, “I mean, of course I’d like to see more, but we only get a day or two, if that.”

“Sounds exhausting” She said, not even able to imagine going from city to city like that. The traveling alone would tire her out, not even including some kind of performing.

“It can be,” He said honestly, but then smiled. “But it’s worth it.”

“This group, how many of you are there?”

“Eight, right now.”

“Right now?” She raised an eyebrow, and he laughed.

“We kind of change around. There’s more than one group, members come and go.”

“Like Menudo?” She blurted out in an almost excited fit of amusement, then felt bad about it and bit her tongue. She was glad that Jaehyun seemed as lighthearted as she did.

“Sure, like Menudo, but better.”

“I don’t know about that. Menudo had Ricky Martin.”

There was quiet and she glanced over at Jaehyun to make sure he knew she was joking, and he was just staring at her with this bemused yet happy look on his face that made her turn quickly back to the road and get a little nervous.

“You’re right, I could never beat Ricky Martin.” He finally said with a fake sigh.

“Maybe one day, if you’re lucky, you too will be Livin’ La Vida Loca.” She said, and liked the way he laughed so openly at her stupid comments.

“I think I already am.” He said faintly, peering out the window.

Their brief silence was interrupted by a sputtering noise from the front of the car. It did it once, then again...then finally again much louder as the car jolted. Her eyes went wide.

“No, no, no. Please no, not today.” She chanted as she giggled the gear-shift, like it would help.

It was no use, the hunk of metal sputtered out its last breaths and luckily she was so used to this that she had already begun maneuvering the vehicle to the shoulder, just in time for it to roll to a stop and die.

“God dammit!’ She yelled, slamming her hand on the steering wheel.

“Uh, I’m guessing this isn’t good?”Jaehyun commented uneasily.

“No, not at all.” She said, taking out her phone. “Look, I’ll call us an Uber. I’ll have it drop you at the venue and then take me back to the shop.”

“I’m really sorry you went through the trouble. Thanks for trying, at least.” Jaehyun said sheepishly.

“Don’t mention it, our ride will be here in 10 minutes.”

The two of them sat awkwardly for a moment before the heat in the dusty old car became too much.

“I’m gonna stand outside.” She said before getting out, not too surprised that Jaehyun followed. She circled toward the road and leaned against the hood, him following suit, crossing his arms and staring at the ground.

“So, uh,” She began, having to talk a little loud as they watched cars whiz past them on the freeway, at least providing a much needed breeze. “What’s it like being famous?” She asked, unsure of what else to say. She probably wouldn’t ever talk to an international popstar again, so she figured she might as well learn all she can.

He laughed, shifting on his feet and staring at the ground. “I don’t really think about that, I don’t have time to.” He explained, and she nodded as she listened.

“But I mean, this tour has made that more apparent. I had no idea we had so many fans out here.” He said, picking up his head and squinting out toward the road in thought.

“Yeah, those girls were pretty excited, you must be good.” She said, and Jaehyun shrugged.

“I feel like we’ve been talking about me all day, what about you?”

She laughed, “Me? I’m not a popstar. I just work in a bookstore.”

“Yeah, I figured,” He smiled, “What else?”

She stared into the road like he was, the cars racing by a great metaphor for her thoughts right now as she searched out something interesting to say. Who the hell am I? Her inner voice echoed.

“There isn’t much else. I like books, and interesting people, and music, and crab legs.”

He chuckled, “Me too. Man, I haven’t had crab legs in awhile.”

“I know the best place to get crab legs, too bad I can’t take you.” She said in a friendly way, only realizing it sounded a little different as she spoke it.

Before he could respond, a car pulled off on the shoulder behind them, sticking a hand out the window to wave them over. They walked toward it and she checked the license plate before they got in.

“Looks like two stops, is it?” The white-haired man asked, looking through the rear view at them.

“Yep, Main street and Bellview.” She agreed, obviously having to take the lead here.

“Bellview, haven’t been over to that slum in years.” The man said, making her quirk up an eyebrow as Jaehyun gave her a sideways glance, the comment feeling out of place. Before they could respond, the man pulled out into the highway. He then accelerated at an alarming pace, causing her to grab the handle above the door and press herself back into the seats.

“Uh, you wanna slow down?” She asked, and the man tossed his head back and laughed, almost hysterically.

“This ain’t nothing sweetheart!” He hollered as he sped up more, coming up fast on cars and weaving in and out of lanes. She fell into Jaehyun on a hard right jerk and looked up at him, his eyes as wide and frightened as hers.

“What is going on?” He whispered to her, glancing back at the man to make sure he wasn’t listening.

“I think our Uber drive is insane.” She said pulling out her phone and checking the app just to see his 2.3 rating. “Cool. Cool cool cool.” She said under her breath as she started to panic a little. They still had a long way to go.

“Um, sir.” Jaehyun spoke up. “Could you please slow it down a little?”

Despite her fear she had to bite her lip to suppress her laugh at how calm and kind he sounded, like he didn’t want to inconvenience this raging lunatic.

“Hey, I’ll do as I please in my own damn car.” The man shouted back, then jerked the car for good measure, as if to warn them.

“What should we do?” Jaehyun leaned over as far as he could with his seat belt on to whisper.

She looked at her phone again. “He’s getting off the highway in a minute, the next light we hit, we’re jumping out.” She said as low as possible, tucking her phone away. She glanced at Jaehyun and saw his wide eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m not not dying in this car today, especially because your name is gonna be top news and I refuse to be second best in my own death.” She joked, trying to lighten the mood. He still looked worried, but he half-smiled at the comment.

The man almost sideswiped 3 cars getting on the off-ramp, a succession of honking drivers behind them as they sped off. There was a light ahead, it was green, but it could change. She discretely took off her seat belt and nodded at Jaehyun to do the same.

By some miracle the light turned red and the man slammed to a halt, almost throwing them into the front seat, but they were quick to react.

“Now, gogogo!” She yelled, pushing Jaehyun toward the door and following him out the right side. They scrambled out of the door, almost falling onto the pavement in the process and scurrying out of the road to the bewilderment of the other vehicles sitting at the light. They could hear the man screaming after them, but his voice faded out as they found the sidewalk and ran.

They didn’t keep it up long, slowing to a walk and panting, looking back.

“You think he’ll follow us?” Jaehyun asked.

“No,” She breathed heavily, “I think we’re good.”

They took a moment to collect themselves, pausing on the overpass. Jaehyun leaning against the railing to take a breather while she made sure she still had her purse. Luckily she did, but as she searched through it, something was missing.

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asked as he noticed her digging through her bag.

“My phone,” She said frantically, checking the pockets over and over. “It’s not in here, it must’ve fallen out in the car.”

Jaehyun’s face fell and he ran his hand through his hair, looking back over the bridge.

“God dammit, I’m really sorry I just keep fucking up this day for you.” She forced a laugh, feeling like a total idiot.

“None of its your fault, just a weird series of events I guess, I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” He nodded, and reached over and pat her on the back. He paused for a moment, rubbing his hand over her shoulder in a comforting gesture before quickly taking it away. It was strange, but also made her blush.

“I kind of know where we are,” She suddenly cleared her throat to say, looking around. “I think if we keep walking this way we’ll hit a popular tourist street, maybe someone will let us use a phone.”

They started to trudge, taking it easy after the ordeal they’d just had. Jaehyun walked with his hands in his pockets, kicking his feet and taking in his surroundings. It was hot, and she walked with a hand to shield her eyes.

“Ah-ha! I knew it.” She said as they came up on the corner to a street lined with little shops and restaurants, and plenty of foot traffic. “Remember those crab legs I was telling you about?”

“Yeah?”

She gestured across the street to ‘Big Louie’s Cajun Crawdads”, Jimmy Buffet blaring through some speakers and patrons sitting on an outside patio enjoying seafood and beer.

“I don’t have much cash on me.” Jaehyun said, looking longingly at the restaurant. She nudged him with her elbow and started to walk.

“It’s on me, and it’ll give us a chance to figure out how we’re going to get you to the arena.”

Jaehyun followed her, and once there they were seated outside in the open air, but properly shielded from the sun. Despite all the craziness of the day, it was hard not to enjoy the perfect weather and anticipation of a delicious meal.

“I need a drink.” She spoke then, grabbing the drink menu, then chancing a glance at Jaehyun. “If that’s okay with you.”

“One should be okay,” He shrugged one shoulder, to her surprise ordering himself a beer when the waiter approached.

“I thought boybands had to be all wholesome and sweet.” She teased.

“Drinking is almost mandatory where I’m from, but you’re not wrong, there’s an image to uphold.”

“That must get stressful, unless you’re a goodie-goodie and it comes easily for you.”

He laughed, “I mean I’m not trying to get into anything too crazy, “ He said, “But it’d be nice to take a girl out every now and then. I don’t really have the time for that, and it would be difficult to do so without being seen.”

“You’re out with a girl right now.” She commented, then quickly tried to cover her tracks. “I mean it’s against your will, and you’d probably like to be out with a girl of your choosing, but-”

He cut her off with a good natured smile, “No, you’re right. I am out with a pretty girl, I should enjoy it.”

She stopped and swallowed hard, feeling it suddenly get very hot despite the outside breeze. They dropped the subject, but she could have sworn Jaehyun had a knowing look.

Their drinks and food came and they gorged themselves, barely pausing to talk. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, most of it probably from all the calories they’d burned through adrenaline alone, and she watched Jaehyun destroy his food and caught herself laughing a couple times at the way he shoveled it all in.

“Okay, you’re right,” He finally spoke after most of it had been consumed. “These are the best crab legs I’ve ever had.”

“I told you,” She grinned, feeling the beer warm her cheeks. “It’s the spices, you can’t beat their secret recipe.”

Sufficiently stuffed and slightly buzzed they relaxed for a moment, though in the back of their mind knowing it was getting late and they would have to get a move on. She caught Jaehyun peering into the restaurant at the dancefloor in front of the bar where people two-stepped to country music.

“I don’t suppose you do that type of dancing.” She chimed in, and he laughed.

“Not quite.”

“You could always try, for an authentic American experience.”

She was mostly joking, but was surprised when he went to stand and reached across the table for her hand.

“Only if you join me.”

He started to walk, tugging her along, and her eyes widened in panic.

“Uhh, I don’t really know how-”

“Good, me either” He turned back as he spoke and flashed a smile that made her relent.

Luckily the beer they’d had was big enough to rid her of some of her inhibitions. He pulled her into a waltz-like hold but they fumbled over their feet trying to find the steps the others were doing around them. A nice older couple even stopped to try and show them how, but Jaehyun stepped on her toes and they broke into a fit of laughter. He pulled her upright, determined to get it right, but still giggling like a child.

“I swear I’m a much better dancer usually.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You could always come to the show.”

“What, really?”

He swayed her gently.

“ mean it’s the least I could do. You could’ve abandoned me hours ago.”

“Yeah, I thought about it a couple times.” She said with a completely straight face, surprised that Jaehyun seemed to buy it for a moment.

“I’m kidding! Really it hasn’t been so bad hanging out with you.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Jaehyun leaned in and she nodded.

“This is the most fun I’ve had in months.”

He spoke so sincerely it made her feel funny, her stomach doing a little flip.

“Man, if you think this is fun you must not get out much.”

He laughed, “I’m serious, I haven’t felt this free in awhile, plus as much as I love the guys it can be tiring hanging out with the same dudes all the time. It’s nice to be around someone different, someone….softer, I guess?” He stopped and shook his head, clearly embarrassed and a little buzzed, “I mean, since you’re a lady and all it’s nice to be around-ah, I’m not explaining myself well.”

“I get it,” She interjected to help him out, only just now realizing how close they were, her chest pressed into his.

They hadn’t been paying attention and had slow-danced their way toward the edge of the bar, back by the bathrooms where it was a little darker and there weren’t any patrons. She looked up into his eyes fully and liked how they gleamed back at her.

“I’m thinking about asking you something,” He spoke up then, his voice taking on a serious tone. “I feel like I shouldn’t, but I also know I’m not going to get another opportunity after today,”

“Shoot,” She breathed, trying to remain casual.

“Can I kiss you?”

He was so earnest, staring down into her face, now standing still but holding her against him. He was strong and warm and she barely knew him but also felt like she had met him years ago. What could it hurt? Her inner voice asked her, and she found herself nodding, mouth agape and eyes wide.

He noted her confirmation but he was slow about it, leaning in and letting his eyelids drift closed. She kept hers open longer, wondering if he was actually going to do it or see if it was just a big joke. When his soft lips brushed over hers it became very real, and her own eyes fell shut as she tilted her chin and kissed him back.

It was tender and deliberate, and she couldn’t remember ever having been handled so preciously by a man, as one hand came up to cradle her head. It deepened faster than she expected, a hunger taking over. It was propelled by their fear and want, pushing them together in such strange circumstances and making them feel so safe together.

He got ahead of himself, pushing into her as she swayed back and connected with the wall behind her, but he followed and they didn’t stop. Now her hands moved up around his neck, pushing through his hair at the back of his head, bringing him down into her as one of his hands fell to her hips and pulled her back. She didn’t know what had gotten into either one of them, but she didn’t really feel like thinking about that right now.

Just as he was pressing her into the wall, ghosting his thumb up under her shirt and against her hip, someone cleared their throat.

They detached quickly and broke apart fully when they saw a burly, older man needing to get around them for the restroom. She wiped her wrist over her moistened mouth and hung her head as Jaehyun apologized and moved out of his way.

“We should find a phone.” She spoke up, and he agreed.

She went to the bar and at first they were reluctant, telling them that only employees could use the phone. She tried her best to explain the situation and the girl paused.

“Wait, what group?”

“NCT 127.”

“Are you serious? My little sister loves you guys.”

“Really?” Jahyun grinned and rubbed the back of his neck and she cast him a sideways glance, half-smiling at his sheepish response.

“She’s going to the show tonight, she’d kill me if I didn’t help you out.” She laughed, retrieving the wireless from the base and handing it over. “Hey, you think you could sign something for her?”

“Of course!’ Jaehyunn lit up, and she watched as he came around the bar and continued to chat with the woman, asking about her sister, seeming genuinely interested. After he signed a napkin and took a photo, doing so like it was second nature, he came back and she handed him the phone.

“Lets see if I can remember my manager’s number.” He laughed, staring at the buttons for a long time and trying a few out. It took about 4 or 5 tries but finally he remembered and got through.

The swiftness with which he switched to Korean startled her at first, but she sat and listened and liked how he spoke even when she couldn’t understand him.

He nodded his head and repeated himself as his face drew tight, and she didn’t have to know the language to understand that he was apologizing profusely. When they hung up, he sighed in relief.

“They’re sending a car for me.”

“This nightmare is finally over.” She said with a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t call it a nightmare.” He grinned, and she shrugged, her mind traveling back to what they had been doing a few minutes ago and feeling a blush creep up her neck.

They went outside to wait, chatting idly before a van pulled up.

“Well, have a good show.” She waved, and he furrowed his brow at her.

“You’re not coming with?”

“Now?”

“Yeah, you wanna see the show, right?” He grinned.

“Are you sure I’m allowed?” She asked, glancing at the impatient driver.

“Trust me, they’re not gonna mind after I tell them how you saved me today.” He said, nudging her arm to follow him into the back of the van. She hesitated, but decided now wasn't’ the time to be unsure.

They rode to the arena and parked in the back, going through a private entrance to the backstage. A couple people rushed over to him, speaking quickly as they walked with him as he kept up his pace, throwing her an encouraging smile as she came along.

“Bro, where the hell were you?” A male’s voice caught her attention as someone came out of a room to approach him, looking younger and maybe even annoyed.

“It’s a long story, you got my phone?”

He pulled something out of his back pocket and handed it over. “Hold your own stuff from now on.” He teased him, then glanced at her. Jaehyun followed his line of vision and then turned to introduce her as the girl who saved his hide, and he looked appreciative of her bringing his friend and bandmate back.

“This is Mark,”

“Ah, the Mark.” She said, thinking back to some of the stories Jaehyun had told over their conversations that day.

“What’s that supposed to mean? What's he been telling you? It’s all lies.” He said, reaching over and pushing Jaehyun.

“Good things!” Jaehyun laughed.

“Whatever, we have to get ready.” Mark gestured his head back to the dressing room. “Are you sticking around for the show?” Mark turned to her to ask.

“Uh, I guess so?”

“You should, we’re a lot better than Jaehyun probably let on.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jaehyun turned Mark around and pushed him toward the dressing room. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Mark went, but when he got to the dressing room door he decided to loudly exclaim, in both English and Korean, that Jaehyun had brought a girl back with him, prompting Jaehyun to sigh in exasperation and her to cover her mouth to conceal her laugh.

“I’ll get someone to find you a place where you can watch the show, if that’s cool?” He asked, placing a hand on her lower back.

She nodded and he went to talk to a female staff member who guided her to a box upstairs. She watched the fans filter in, mostly young girls but to her surprise ranging spectacularly in ages, race, and gender, all holding bulky green lightsticks and voices amplified with excitement.

When the lights went down and the cheers went up, she found herself blown away by the spectacle of it. There were a lot of them, and each one brought a unique voice and performance, but her eyes were mostly glued to Jaehyun. It was impossible not to watch him, and be taken aback by how he’d transformed from everyday tourist to handsome popstar in a matter of an hour or so. His voice, the way he moved, everything about him was different and yet still him somehow, and it made her smile wide, clutching her hands to her chest. The feeling that welled up inside her worried her, it was so intense for having just been introduced to her mere hours before, but she rolled with it.

When it came to an end, she found herself wanting more, and a sliver of sadness crept its way in her heart as she knew this was probably the last time she was ever going to see him again. It shouldn’t make her so upset, she told herself, but she couldn’t help it.

To make things easier, she got up and left the way she came, heading for the back door and out into the back parking lot, realizing she still didn’t have a phone or a way home. She idled there for a moment as the street lights came on, kicking dirt and trying to figure out her feelings.

“Hey!”

A voice brought her back, and she turned to see Jaehyun jogging toward her.

“Did you like the show?” He asked, grinning ear to ear, dressed down but still glowing from sweat and excitement.

“It was amazing, really.” She nodded and smiled.

“Thanks. Also, I know I already said it but thank you for everything today. I can’t believe we got here in one piece.” He laughed, “But I’m kind of glad it all happened.”

“Yeah?” She asked, tilting her head to one side.

“I’m glad I met you.” He nodded, then pulled out a piece of paper he’d had folded up in his pocket.

“Here, I wrote down my phone number, and if that one doesn’t work I have this other number. Oh, and here’s my private email if you wanna hit me up there. I hope you’ll text me sometime. Like...tonight or something.” He explained and she blinked at the paper, looking at how he’d carefully written down his information in detail.

Before she could respond, he pulled her into a hug and she could feel all his heat and affection, making her almost melt in his arms.

“I had a great time with you.” He spoke softly and she laughed off the awkward butterflies in her stomach.

“Me too.”

#nct 127 #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop fanficion #nct fluff #commission

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captain-aralias · 5 years ago

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More-than-six Sentence Monday

got some unexpected last minute sunday tags from @vkelleyart and @carryonsimoncarryonbaz \o/

Rules:

Writers: post (approximately) six sentences from something you’re working on. If you aren’t ready to do that, add six sentences to your WIP.

Readers: challenge yourselves to leave a six sentence comment or give a writer a six sentence prompt. (or a total of six sentences for the day)

Fans and creators alike: reblog a fandom post and add some love in the tags. Aim for 6 posts - or 6 tags. Whatever you can manage!

I tag some people who aren’t in this fandom, which i don’t think is the point. BUT... it means maybe they haven’t seen the meme, so there we are. @agapi42 @thisbluespirit @neveralarch @shipaholic

Great! I love talking about myself,

BUT... i literally have no works in progress. NONE. i posted the thing i was working on yesterday and i haven’t started anything else/have no idea what i will write next yet. (Give me your ideas. Can we have a kink meme or something? I love kink memes.)

So - I will do the commenting one someone else’s thing for 6 lines instead, because that’s nice.

And I will also give you (should you wish to read it) the original beginning from ‘Sex and Blood’, and loads of stuff I cut out of ‘The Mages Heir’ because I found the off-cuts hanging around in my docs folder, so why not? They’re yours if you want them.

Sex and Blood

This was the original beginning. Then I added Simon’s scene because... I can’t remember ... and cut most of this for a reason i DO remember, which is that I was like ‘Baz is supposed to be so sick he can’t even think. Why is he banging on about garlic?’ You’ll see I also sort of re-used some of it in the third part where Baz is in the library.

I know fuck-all about vampires.

To begin with, it was a matter of principle. Of pride. Finding out anything about them – about the creatures who killed my mother – was as good as admitting I was one. Which, obviously, I am – but that didn’t mean I had to think about it. (Much the same approach my father wishes I’d take to my sexuality, I expect. Being gay is bad enough – I could have the decency to repress it.)

Now, I think I’m afraid of what I might find if I looked.

Everything I do know, I’ve found out by trial and error. By surviving.

I know I can eat garlic. I know I can go out in the sun, although it burns me (sun-cream doesn’t help. Not even factor 40. I’ve learned that the hard way). I know I can cross water and see myself in a mirror. I know I need to drink blood regularly, but that I don’t need to take it from other people. I also know I want to – and that for some reason, the people I want to take it from most are also the people I’m most attracted to. (Or rather, from one person in particular.) So I know that sex and blood must be linked together in my brain in some horrific way that fortunately I haven’t had to fully explore yet. (Simon Snow’s disdain for me is a blessing in some ways.)

---

Lots of stuff was cut from The Mage’s Heir:

1. I switched this scene to Simon’s POV:

I let him kiss me. Then I let him take off his shirt. He sits on the edge of the bed, golden in the candlelight, and swallows as I open my mouth to show my fangs. Maybe it’s finally hit him. Either that or he knows what that swallow does to me.

“You’re sure?” I ask around a mouth of teeth, and he nods. “Bite me.”

And so I do – right where I’ve always wanted to bite him, at the base of the throat. I can tell it hurts because he stiffens and swears. His fingernails dig into my back.

Blood, incredible, warm and rich, Simony blood is filling my mouth, but I try to pull back anyway – then Simon relaxes and I have to catch him to stop him falling.

“Oh yeah,” he croons against my ear. “I knew it would be nice.”

It’s much more than that. I feel as though I’m on fire.

Gently, I lower him backwards onto the mattress, teeth still buried in his neck. My body is humming. And my erection is back - even blissed out Simon can feel it. One of his hands gropes vaguely around my crotch for a while. I rip the zip open and press his hand against me. He let me hold it there as I fuck myself rabidly against his hip and his hand.

This is from Part 2 and is about Penny bonding with Fiona over botony - but I thought that scene was going on for too long so it’s cut

I’m looking round at the plants. I think some of these are illegal in this country – things I’ve never even seen except on the internet.

“That’s moly,” Baz’s aunt says as I lean in to take a better look at something that looks like a massive snowdrop. “Useful stuff. It––”

“It repels magic,” I say.

She looks impressed. “That’s right. And it’s good for crazy people.”

“Are you’re sure it’s OK to have it in your house? Even the pollen could be dangerous.”

“Both of Bunce’s parents are on the Coven, Fiona,” Baz says pointedly.

“So were mine,” she says, unimpressed. “Anyway, I’ve obviously got a permit. Lapsed botanist,” she explains when I look quizzically at her. “But it’s good for field work.”

That makes sense, although I didn’t know there was anyone in London with all this stuff – I thought the Watford greenhouses were the best stocked, but even they don’t have moly (because it’s really dangerous). Baz never said. I’d have come ‘round earlier. Or if he’d told me his aunt was a botanist (even if she is lapsed) – it’s a really good magickal profession.

“Are we going to use any of this tonight?” I ask.

“No idea,” Fiona says.

Part 3 - this was the original opening - again, you’ll see i re-used some of it. I cut it once I realised that characters were literally saying ‘this is boring’ to each other

I wake up and it’s dark. And I’m on the floor. And I feel like complete shit.

I think about trying to sleep it off (that works sometimes), but now I know I’m on the floor it’s hard to get comfortable, so I sit up instead.

The good news is I don’t hit my head on anything. That means that Nicky didn’t probably hasn’t pulled the ceiling down, but now my head feels a lot worse because I tried moving it, and I still can’t see anything.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

I’m not really sure what happened, if I’m honest. I remember Baz telling me he had a plan, and I remember him biting me, although I’m not sure whether that was the plan or whether he just got carried away. I think I must have passed out after that. And now I’m here – alone, on the floor, in the dark.

“Baz!” I shout stupidly.

Nobody replies to that either.

I get up and walk forward until I hit a wall (not literally. I had my hands out). That’s good, though. It means I know where the wall is. I drag my hand along it until I find a corner (that’s great! This is a room with corners, I’m making progress) and along the next wall. This time there isn’t a corner, exactly – there’s an open space. And then a metal bar. After that, another bar.

That’s not so good. It feels a lot like this is a cell. I’ve never been in a cell before (though I’ve been locked up plenty of times, mostly with magic) and I can’t say I’m enjoying it now. Especially if I’m the only one here. Maybe I’m the only one they kept alive.

“Baz?” I shout again. “Penny?” I’m really trying not to freak out. “Baz!”

“Shut up,” a girl’s voice says from somewhere I can’t see. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“Sorry,” I say. “I’m just trying to find my friends. Do you know if they’re all right? It’s a boy with soft black hair and a girl––”

“Don’t talk to me. I’m ignoring you,” the voice says.

“Yeah. But have you seen them?”

When the voice stays silent, I smash my hands against the bars. The bars rattle – loudly – and it makes me feel better, so I kick the nearest one and then slam my shoulder against them. I don’t really expect the bars to give, which is good, because they don’t, but I know I’m pissing off the owner of the voice, which is something.

Then I think, why not actually try and get out of here? And I begin the incantation for the Sword of Mages.

I don’t really expect it work now I’m actually trying, but it does. The hilt materialises in my hand and I feel the comforting weight of blade, even though I can’t see it. I know it’ll be as sharp as ever.

My magic must be coming back. It’s coming back to me, like the sword did, but this time it’s my magic, my real magic. I’ll be a magician again, like Baz and Penny. I just took a break for a while, like Nicky did.

This is amazing. It’s actually amazing. Even though I’m still locked in a cell, and I have no idea where Baz and Penny are, I feel like laughing. This is so great.

Neither of them has ever said it (Baz actively denies it), but I know that both them wish I still had magic. Any magic. They both love being magicians. And I know they both feel sorry for me – for what happened, for losing the thing that’s most important to them. And they worry about me.

Now they won’t have to.

And it’s kind of like I’m starting again, right back at the start of my magickal education. The incantation is not only the spell I always got right, it’s also the first spell I ever learnt.

The Mage felt I should be armed from the beginning.

“It will be a burden,” he said as I swung the sword around his office that first day. “A heavy one. But you must be able to protect yourself, Simon – I won’t always be there.”

At the time I didn’t understand what he meant about it being a burden (It was a magic sword, a sword I could pull from the air just by saying a few words).

I do now, though.

He meant things were going to try and kill me and that I was going to have to kill them first, even though I was only eleven. I didn’t really mind back then, I just felt I had no choice. I guess eleven-year-olds aren’t really ready for the big questions.

“Use the sword well and it will always come back to you, so long as you are my heir,” the Mage told me. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Use with courage and with wisdom. Be worthy of it.”

“I’ll try, sir.”

“I know you will, Simon.”

And I meant it. Obviously. But over the years I was at Watford, I used the Sword of Mages for all sorts of stuff I probably could have used a less-magical sword for. Things like spilling blood for my room at Mummer’s House or opening tins of beans. It’s just, it’s easy to get used to things. Take them for granted. And the sword seemed to be all right with it.

But if I’m getting my magic back, I can start over – do things right.

Starting with breaking out of here. That seems like a pretty just and courageous thing to do, as I have to be free if I’m going to rescue my friends and my boyfriend from goblins. Assuming they need to be rescued (which at the moment I think I have to). I can’t wait to tell them.

I feel for the lock. It’s right at the edge of the bars where they meet the wall (as you’d expect, basically) and it’s got a big, obvious key hole. It’s probably locked with magic as well as iron, but I don’t think that’ll be a problem.

I swing the sword up and down about where the lock is. It cuts in, though not all the way through.

“What are you doing?” the voice from next door says as I brace one of my feet against the bars and tug the sword free. “Are you breaking out?”

“That’s right.”

I swing the sword again, hitting the same point, even in the dark (eight years of almost constant practice paying off). The lock cracks and gives. And the door creeks open.

Light flares in the cell next to me as I walk out into the prison corridor.

There are quite a few other cells, but the others are all empty except the one next to mine. And in it is a girl, like I thought, holding a small light in her hand like Baz does. Except that her hand is green, because she’s a goblin.

I didn’t think goblins locked up other goblins (I thought they probably ate them, which I’m glad I never said to any of them as it sounds a bit racist now I think about it). This one looks about my age, and she’s as gorgeous as Agatha.

“Take me with you,” she says.

“I thought you were trying to sleep,” I say.

“That’s when I thought you were just a prisoner reciting the traditional first-night dialogue,” she says. “You know, where am I? Where are my friends? I’ve heard it all before.”

“But people don’t usually escape.”

“Not usually,” she says. “Because there’s a really good alarm system down here. That’s why we have to be–– Bloody Cap.”

Somewhere behind the door to this prison someone is running along a corridor – fairly fast by the sound of it, in heavy shoes.

“Forget I said anything,” the goblin girl says, extinguishing her light. “I didn’t speak to you. I’m asleep.”

I raise my sword to a fighting stance. “I think it’s just one person.”

Or I suppose, one person making a lot of noise and several other people who are aren’t. But they’ll all have to come through one door, so I should be able to take them all.

As the door opens, I shut my eyes in case they brought a bright light that’ll blind me. I hear the heavy wood of the door swing inwards and I bring the sword down and round in a wide arc. I’m just about to make it very hard for this guard to walk away from the fight (kneecap damage – I’m not going to kill him) when he says,

“Simon! It’s me – it’s Nicky.”

“Nicky?”

I pull back so fast I almost fall over. I open my eyes, and blink a few times, and he steadies me. It’s definitely him, not a goblin wearing his shape – I recognise his smell (leather jacket and strawberry vape). I don’t hug him, because I don’t like hugging most people, but I’m really pleased he’s alive.

“Is Baz OK? And Penelope?”

“Yeah,” he says. “We’re all fine. How about you? You’ve been out for three days. Healing magic’s a bit dodgy.”

I shrug this off because I don’t want to think about it right now. “Where’re are the others?”

“Upstairs.”

“Cool. Let’s go then.” I turn towards the other occupied cell. “Stand back and I’ll split the lock.”

The goblin light flares again and I see her standing at the back of the cell trying not to look excited.

“Well, hurry up about it.”

“Hang on, Lancelot,” Nicky says as I raise the sword. “I didn’t give you the message yet. You’ll want to hear it. It’s from His Nibs.”

I sheath the sword and it vanishes. “From Baz?”

That sounds good, it sounds like Baz is alive. (I am so fucking grateful Baz is alive.)

“Right. Essentially, he says, stay where you are, don’t attract any attention to yourself, and definitely don’t break out of prison. You can see why I thought it was a fairly relevant message at this particular time.”

“Baz wants me to stay here?” I say. “In a dungeon?”

“Not exactly the place to get over heavy blood loss, is it?” Nicky says. “I told you: Pitches care about magic and power and that’s it. But you can see how it would be awkward for him if you start running around the place, since he’s only king ‘cause he killed you.”

“What do you mean, he’s the king?” I say.

“Who’s the king?” the goblin girl says.

“My boyfriend,” I say. “Do you mean king of the goblins?”

Nicky scowls. “I knew you weren’t in on it, I told Fiona. Listen – if you want to start a revolution let me know. Otherwise, sit tight, eat this, and I’ll bring more news when I have it, OK?”

He’s pressed something round like a Coke can into my hand (the one that isn’t holding the sword). Now he claps me on the shoulders and shuts the door behind him.

“How can your boyfriend be the goblin king?” the girl asks. She’s close to the bars now, looking at me with undisguised scepticism.

“I don’t know,” I say. I think I’m still in shock – maybe Nicky’s right and it’s the blood loss. “He wasn’t yesterday.”

Except – shit. It wasn’t yesterday, was it? It’s been three days. (I’ve missed the start of term.)

I go back and sit in my cell. There’s nothing else really to do. In the light that’s still coming from the girl next door, I can see what Nicky’s given me is actually a tin of spinach – a tin of spinach without a ring-pull. I’m not sure how he expected me to eat it, but I guess I’ve got a magic sword I’m not using for anything else right now.

“That man called you Simon,” the girl’s voice says. “You’re the Goblinslayer.”

I didn’t know they called me that.

“No wonder you’re hiding in a dark,” she says. “I would be, if I were you.”

It’s lucky I now trust Baz absolutely, because this doesn’t feel good. It feels like one of Baz’s family’s plans to get rid of me.

And it feels like it’s working.

this is the end of part 3... i don’t really remember it very well, although i do remember that i had massive trouble with the doctor wellbelove convo, because it’s a massive info-dump disguised as a scene

“The treaty with the goblins is going very well,” he says. “As well as these things ever do, anyway. Queen Ilex and I have a meeting next week to negotiate the finer points of the treaty.”

Ilex is Holly’s royal name.

“She’s attending the Coven later this month with some of her people, to get the treaty magically ratified by both parties. I’d like you to be there, if possible.”

I swallow. “To stand trial?”

Dr Wellbelove looks surprised. “What on Earth for?”

“Because,” I say. Isn’t it obvious? “I’ve broken Mage Law, haven’t I?”

Dr Wellbelove nods. It’s definitely more than once.

“But,” he says, “you’ve also done what few others could have managed and helped reached a peaceful accord with a race of dark creatures.”

I shrug. I guess. I mean I was there, although I was unconscious for most of it. I wouldn’t say I helped.

“You may be interested to learn that one of the terms of the treaty was a complete ban on goblin consumption of humans, in exchange for animal livestock. Queen Ilex suggested it herself, although it seems the goblins have developed a taste for Scottish beef. I don’t need to tell you that will save many lives.”

“That was Baz,” I say.

“It wasn’t just Basil, though, was it?”

“Right. It was Penny’s plan that got us of there––”

“She claims it was your plan.”

“I guessed it.”

“And that it wouldn’t have been possible if you hadn’t already formed a relationship with the imprisoned queen.”

“Penny exaggerates,” I say. (Even though he said I wasn’t, I feel like I’m on trial here.) “I talked to Holly for, like, half an hour.”

“Well, how about we return to the numpties then?” Dr Wellbelove says. “You’ve already admitted you responded to a situation

“That was Nicky!” I say.

Well, I guess I shout it. Dr Wellbelove looks surprised.

But it feels wrong. He’s got it all wrong. I know what it’s like to do big, important stuff and this isn’t it. I’m not the Chosen One any more. I’m not anything. I’m just trying to clean up my own mistakes. And the Mage’s.

“Because you asked him to.”

“Yeah.” I’m getting confused here. “No. I feel like you want me to say that I did all of this stuff, but I didn’t. I didn’t do any of it. None of it was me.”

this is earlier in part three - it’s penny’s POV. i really like that bit about there being worse people to turn into. might re-use it later.

He and Baz are already all over each other, as though three days apart is unbearable. I chat to Holly the goblin while I wait. And keep waiting. (Micah and I haven’t been in the same country for three months. And it’s not as though there’s any reception down here so I can Skype him.) If you’re up for a round of snogging your boyfriend in public, you can’t be that sick.

Snakes, I think I’m turning into my mum.

I suppose there are definitely worse people I could turn into. Since Mum has almost everything she ever wanted and is pretty much always right. Just like I know I’m right now. Simon is – weirdly – OK.

and the same scene - simon’s POV

“Actually, I did tell you,” I point out.

I watch Baz mentally re-play the last twenty minutes to find out that yes, actually, I did tell him. And he was too busy fussing about his wand.

He shrugs. “Whatever.”

I don’t mind. Him not apologising means he’s not feeling stupidly guilty any more. I lean into him and he frowns.

#carry on #snowbaz #my fic #my deleted scenes #my content

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everbrilliantheartbreaker · 5 years ago

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Fanfiction Reader Tag

Tagged by @eyeliner-vampire ♡ ♡

Fanfiction Reader Tag!

1. When did you start reading Fanfic (How old you were or how long ago)?

When I was probably...11 ish? so like 13 years ago

2. Do you have an AO3 account?

Yeh (LadyWisteria)

3. Do you read WIP (work in progress)? Why or why not?

All the time. I’m not picky about this at all. I’m a simple person. I see fic I think I’ll like? I read. doesn’t matter if it’s finished or not. I’ll make up my own ending til it is lol. also authors need that encouragement. finishing stuff is hard

4. What time of day is your ‘fic reading time’?

Usually late at night (like 1 a.m. and later..much later) but sometimes I’ll waste an afternoon instead (2 p.m. ish til I either have to go to work or I finish the fic)

5. How much time do you spend reading fic per week?

Not remotely as much time as I used, that’s for sure. Anywhere from an hour (if I’m rereading That favorite fic) to 2-4 hours if my friend has sent me a longfic again.

6. Do you listen to podfic (fanfic recorded like an audiobook)?

I...didn’t even know this was a thing tbh, so no. Sounds very neat but also I don’t listen to audio books anymore bcus my attention span re: audio input has gotten so bad over the years I can’t focus for more than a few minutes.

7. What’s your favorite fic genre to read?

AUs AUs AUs. and fantasy. and fantasy AUs (although good long AU fics are harder to find). I am a very simple person. I see magic mentioned, I read. I also read a lot of romance fic (proving once again that fanfic writing is often better than mainstream original writing, bcus romance is one of my least favorite YA/movie genres). I don’t read as much of them but I also love mystery and paranormal fics

8. Are there any genres that you tend to avoid?

Super angsty no happy ending type stuff. “Major Character Death” is an automatic nope lmao (unless the summary looks reaallyyy interesting or it was recc’d to me). Tragedy is definitely Not my thing

9. What tag(s) do you track?

I don’t track any fic tags (I stopped tracking tags at all since Tumblr changed it from “keeping track of new posts in said tag” to “dropping random posts from that tag into the middle of your dash, and usually the same three”)

10. How do you find new fic?

Nowadays I mostly just read what friends send me or the new stuff a very few writers I follow post, but sometimes I also come across stuff through Twitter or Tumblr and curiosity wins out

11. How do you organize your fic bookmarks?

I..don’t? Is this a thing people do?? If I wanna reread something I either search through my bookmarks by title/author or just. filter by fandom.

12. Do you subscribe to authors or stories?

Yeh. I only keep up with a very select few of them though. altho part of that is due to several of them being people I followed on fanfic.net years and years ago and never unfollowed, even though our interests may no longer be the same. (the other part is me going “oh I’ll read that later” and then just. never doing it.)

13. What is your favorite fanfic trope?

fake dating and bed sharing are always good

everyone is gay. also Good

14. What kind of plot line are you always here for?

“everything’s the same but they’re soulmates” (oh my god they were soulmates)

mafia AU

MAGIC

I really like in-between scene fics too. the events and character interactions that happen off-screen. I like writing those

15. What can an author do to make you love them?

write about my faves frequently

cool AUs

write about minor characters

good sense of humor

16. What can an author do to make you avoid them?

not into mpreg fics

a/b/o fics make me super wary I usually pass on those, even if the summary looks mildly interesting. they’re rarely if ever done in a way that isn’t rapey and gross

don’t care for fics period that have rapey scenes but you’re supposed to find them romantic

adult/minor ships

characterization is a big deal to me so if I don’t like how they handle the characters, especially faves I probably won’t be back

17. What do kudos mean to you?

when I get one I have a few seconds of “oh someone kinda liked this thing I wrote” and then I carry on about my day >.>;;; (I do appreciate them tho)

18. What kind of commenter are you (No comment, short comment, keyboard smash)?

I don’t comment as often as I mean to or wish I did, but when I do they’re loong comments (I’ve passed the AO3 character limit at least once kshg)

I tend to quote favorite parts and then react to them, and I like to theorize and ask questions about character’s thoughts at a certain part or what author imagines happens before/after the fic

19. Have you ever stopped reading a fic? Why or why not?

Yes. Once because I stumbled into a very sexually explicit fic when that was. Not at all what I was expecting (I was also very young lol), I think there was a very few I quit because they were boring or very poorly written, but most often I “quit” a fic for the same reason I don’t do audio books anymore lmao: because my attention span is sht and my motivation and commitment are extremely fickle things. I either forget or just wander away for a bit and then forget. Often I mean to come back and finish it; it’s just a matter of how long it takes. (I also second hand embarrassed out of a fic so hardcore that it’s been a whole 9 months since I’ve touched it khdfgd)

20. Have you ever read a fic more than once? What is it about that fic that makes you want to read it again?

YES. This requires like a minimum 4 separate posts to really answer but:

Behind Bricks and The Penance of a Killer by Deathbelle

this person is my fricking favorite author ever and these are two of my fricking favorite fics ever, I must’ve reread Behind Bricks 6 or 8 times now and Penance is the BokuAka-centric companion piece to my favorite fic of all time that I always wanted

Mending Bonds and If the Heart Breaks, Does That Mean There’s No Home? by RussianSunflower3

Mending Bonds is soft found family fluff centering on a very minor fave of mine and If the Heart Breaks is very angsty found family fluff that also focuses on some minor characters and it always hurts my heart but the ending and the soft middle always heal it right back up (“[Hanamaki] has a heart big enough for everyone in the world, and then some.” ohhhh my godd)

Boiled Frogs by ReginaGalaxia

this one is. a really hard read centered around emotional abuse and manipulation and hoooo boy it is a rough read especially if you’ve experienced any of that personally but it’s so well written and the character dynamics are great and in its lighter moments it’s fricking hilarious.

(bits and pieces of) The Roost by Ugglabarn

bits and pieces only bcus Roost has a lot of very heavy dark content that I’d have to be in a specific mood to reread the whole thing because it hurts my heart way too much but also it’s one of the best Fukurodani-centric longfics I’ve ever read (PLUS AN AU..!!) and I love love how they write the characters and how much focus there is on the minor members and ships and in its lighter moments Roost is also really funny the most recent chapter was hilarious

Expensive Hotel by Crown_of_Winterthorne

smut. explicit smut. excellent explicit smut with loving polyamorous boyfriends and plenty of consent discussion and kissing. my entire jam right there

Class 1-A Whomst? by Ya_Boi_Hal

this is the funniest chatfic I’ve ever read in my life and the first good chatfic I ever read. absolutely hysterical. also has some really good serious content in the middle and some Aizawa dialogue that punched me right in the feels. 12/10 will read again. sometimes I just randomly say “Mineta whomst??” and cackle to myself

and back in the day it was:

The Flame of Betrayal by DataIntegrationThoughtEntity

I guess traitor! Tahu was a popular trope back when Bionicle fandom was at its peak?? and not everyone liked it apparently but I enjoyed this fic greatly every time I read it it was well written and had interesting OCs and I am actually highly tempted to go reread it again

and Asleep Beneath a Wheat Field by Feline Freak

this was a very peculiar little OC-centric one shot that was also very sad and I don’t know why it grabbed me like it did but I remember rereading it 3 or 4 times at least

21. Do you like sequels?

The fics I like don’t usually come with sequels but The Penance of a Killer is one so Yes

22. Do you like dabbles?

I guess? I haven’t read too many I don’t think but hey, more fic is more fic. Who’s gonna complain about that?

23. What do you wish more fic authors would do?

Write about minor characters more

24. What do you wish more authors would stop doing?

that thing where they latch onto one facet of a character’s personality - or worse, one that fandom made up - and write them as if that’s the only trait they have

25. Do you like one-shots or multi-chapter?

Multi-chapter. I mean both are great obviously but the majority of my faves are multi-chapter and obviously if I like a fic I’m gonna wanna spend as much time in that universe as possible

26. How long do you like chapters to be?

Usually I feel the longer the better. once in a while I’ll hit one that’s so long it’s kind of distracting but extremely rarely

27. What’s your favorite POV (point of view) to read (first, second, third)?

Third

28. What do you think of OC’s?

I didn’t use to care for them very much but as I started reading fic by more advanced writers I found several I really liked. have a very small list of OCs from recent fics I’ve read I would actually kill a man for I love them so much

29. Do you download fic?

No, but seeing as my absolute favorite Bionicle fic vanished off the face of the earth several years ago and I cannot find anything about it an y wh ere sometimes I think about saving my faves. I never got to finish reading that fic and I am absolutely devastated every time I think about it.

30. Tell me something else about your fic reading! Anything else!

best thing is when my friend and I buddy read a fic and send each other our favorite parts

Tag!

@yaelathewordsmith and @samantha-girlscout ♡ ♡ ♡

#Toa does a meme #long post #i didn't forget about this i've just been picking at it ever since u tagged me

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marquis-lafayeet · 6 years ago

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You’re My Sunflower

Photographer!Daveed Diggs x Reader

Daveed huffed as he sorted all of the recent photos into piles that either made the cut or not. He was in college as of now, and was trying to get this Photography career somewhere. But all of his muses were either too into it or didn’t have enough effort. People really think photographers work all the magic but it’s really all in the muse.

Daveed rolled his eyes at the mere thought. “Hey Daveed,” his thoughts were cut off by his roommate, Y/N. Daveed smiled. “Hey Y/N. What have you been up to?” He asks, seeing all the bags in on her arms. Y/N beamed. “These are new art supplies for the project I’m working on. I’m so excited! I know people should be stressed about their biggest piece of this year, but I just like to think of it as another rough draft.” She explained with a smile.

Daveed smiled back. He was at least happy that Y/N was having an easy time with her final. Her eyebrows furrowed. “What about you?” She asked.

Daveed’s POV

I sighed as Y/N asked how my project was going. I plastered a fake smile that immediately left my face when I saw her expression that screamed “tell me the truth”. “I have to do a shoot,” I began but was cut off. “A shoot? That shouldn’t be a problem! You’re easily the most talented photographer I know!” She exclaimed. I felt my face heat up. “But it has to be a person.” Her expression dropped at that. I was talented at photography, sure, but when it comes to photographing people? Count me out. Too many expectations to live up to, no thank you. Y/N put a thoughtful face on. “Maybe... you could do me? I mean, if you want to, I know I don’t look the prettiest or anything. Never mind, pretend I didn’t say anything.” Y/N said shyly.

My face broke out into a smile. “That’s absolutely perfect! You could be my muse!” Y/N’s head shot up. “Really?” She asked. I nodded.

t i m e s k i p

Y/N unlatched herself from my arm as we neared the flower gardens, practically skipping on her way there. She beamed. “Look! They have sunflowers!” She exclaimed. I chuckled. “Why’re you so excited? Are they your favorite flower?” I asked, trying to get her to reveal herself. Her birthday was coming up and I haven’t got a clue as to what to get her. Y/N nodded her head furiously. “Everyone likes them now because they’re “aesthetic” or something,” she said rolling her eyes and doing air quotes on the word aesthetic. Y/N’s broke out into a little smile. “I’ve loved sunflowers ever since I could remember,” she continued. “I love the way they always look at the sun, as if trying to hold onto the light, never faltering once. Just like how people say I look for positivity. I’m not always happy though, I have my moods,” she said with a laugh.

I laughed with her with a nod. Y/N had plenty of days where she was down in the dumps. She would always sulk until I asked her what happened. She would tell me about her day then I would comfort her then we would get her favorite foods then watch TV and cuddle. “Anyways, let’s get onto that shoot, shall we?” She said with a grin. I plastered on a fake smile. “Let’s,” I said with fake enthusiasm. Y/N noticed and gave me an encouraging smile. “Hey, we’ll take as long as you need, okay?” Y/N said gently touching my arm. I nodded.

Turns out, she really meant as long as I need. We were there until sunset. And she didn’t complain once. “Okay, I think this is the one,” I said, looking at the camera. Y/N held her pose and giggled. “Well take the picture! I want to see your amazing photography skills,” I compiled and and angled the camera. As I did, I noticed the way her expression was held. It was really loving, while she was carresing the sunflowers around her. The sunset shone in the distance, and the reflection made her eyes and skin glow, contrasting the yellow-orange sky. The smile on her face was so beautiful I did a double take. I also made a realization that almost made me fall over. Did I... like Y/N? I’ve known her for the longest, and didn’t really pay attention to it, dang. I love Y/N L/N. This realization was so controlling that I didn’t notice Y/N trying to get my attention by calling my name between clenched teeth. “Daveed! Daveed,” she groaned, her face muscles tiring. I snapped back into attention. “Oh sorry Y/N, just a little distracted,” I said, not technically lying. She shrugged it off and focused back on her pose. After I took a couple more pictures, we headed back to our apartment.

Y/N laughed when she saw a picture of her laughing at a joke I made. “Ha, I don’t look mentally stable in that one,” Y/N said, fidgeting from embarrassment. I shook my head. “You look really cute in this one,” I felt my face heat up. Her eyes lit up. We walked the rest of the way in silence, finally making our way to our apartment. Y/N went to go take a shower while I put together my project.

a n o t h e r t i m e s k i p

I jumped up and down as I saw my final score. 100%! I can’t believe it. I sprinted back to the apartment to find Y/N. She was on the couch, eating some pretzels and watching Netflix. She glanced my way and a smile broke on her face when she saw my smile. “How’d you do?” She asked. I shoved the paper in her face. She screamed when she saw the paper. She excitedly grabbed it and inspected it further. “This is amazing! I’m so happy for you!” She said.

Third Person POV

She was so excited she went up to hug Daveed. She was so caught up in the moment she kissed him.

Right on the lips.

As soon as it happened, Y/N pulled away with wide eyes. “I-I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed. She was only met with a very surprised expression. The expression for him was pure joy. The expression for her was pure terror. Her eyes started to water and her bottoms lip started to tremble. “I gotta go,” she said, running back to her room. She couldn’t go out since there was still finals going on. Daveed tried to knock on her door to try and talk to her, but she didn’t come out.

It wasn’t until after the school day that Daveed was able to catch her when she got back home. Her eyes widened and she tried to turn back around but Daveed stopped her by blocking the doorway. “We need to talk Y/N.” Daveed said. Y/N kept her eyes downcast and nodded. They both walked to the living room, Y/N going at a slower pace to stall, unlacing her shoes, putting her bag on a rack and dusting dirt off of both her bag and shoes. Daveed huffed. She reluctantly shuffled her way to the living room and sat on the couch farthest away from him.

“What do you need to talk about?” She asked in a shy voice, a voice Daveed never heard before. “You already know what Y/N. Why’d you do it?” Daveed asked in a soft tone. She looked up and made eye contact with his kind eyes. Her bottom lip started to tremble again. Daveed notices and rushed over to her side. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me if you’re that embarrassed,” Daveed sympathized, rubbing her back. “I love you Daveed, not even like, love. I know I shouldn’t, and that you could like any other prettier girl on this ca-,” Y/N was interrupted by Daveed’s lips on hers.

Y/N was stunned into silence. “Shush, I love you too Y/N. And only you.” Daveed reassured her. Y/N smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” Y/N said. Daveed answered by crashing his lips on hers.

y e t a n o t h e r t i m e s k i p

It was Y/N’s birthday, and Daveed was completely ready. They were dating for a couple weeks now, and things couldn’t get any better. Y/N got a great grade on her art project, Daveed is getting offers to do shoots for models, and Daveed knew exactly what to do for Y/N’s birthday.

Y/N’s POV

I huffed as I came into the apartment l shared with my boyfriend. Boyfriend. Huh. Still sounds foreign to me. Anyways, today has been awful. Nobody remembered my birthday, even my friends! I didn’t tell them, I wanted to tell them tomorrow so that they could feel guilty. I felt a bit shallow for doing that, and for thinking that they have to remember my birthday. I felt horrible. “Babe, I’m home,” I called out. I found a piece of paper on the kitchen table. “Hey baby, I want you to meet me at the place fate decided to take place. ♡” - Daveed xoxo. Y/N beamed. He always liked to ramble on and on about how beautiful I looked that day he decided to do me for his shoot. I shook my head and smiled.

As I walked to the gardens, I thought about how lucky I was to have Daveed. He was sweet, funny, caring, and devastatingly handsome. I sighed contendly as I walked into the gardens. As I looked around, I noticed there was fairy lights hanging from the poles. As I looked closer, I noticed there were polaroids and regular pictures on there. They were pictures of me and Daveed. Each picture had a date and a caption. “May 12th, 2018, carnival ♥︎” the picture was of me and Daveed in a photo booth, with props making silly faces. I had huge muschtache while making duck lips while Daveed had bunny ears and scrunching his face up in the cutest way holding a rubber ducky. There was another picture of the carnival. We were holding hands and kissing, with the Ferris wheel lights shining in front of us. We were pretty lucky to have Rafael, Daveed’s friend, to be a photographer to. The picture came out perfect.

As I walked and admired the pictures, I heard someone clear their throat. I turned to see Daveed in a tux, holding sunflowers in his hand and bashfully smiling. “Happy birthday my love,” he said, leaning down and giving me a passionate kiss. “Do you like it?” Daveed asked shyly, handing me the flowers.

I gratefully took them and kissed his cheek. “I love it, and I love you, Daveed,” I say. He smiles and kisses me once more. “I love you too, Y/N.” He murmurs against my lips.

This was the best birthday ever.

#daveed diggs #daveed x reader #sunflower #fluff #cute #hamilton #hamilcast #college #hamilton x reader #lafayette #thomas jefferson #lin manuel miranda

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minimonojoon · 7 years ago

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crystal snow

g e n r e: angst, bittersweet ending tho; p a i r i n g: yoongi x reader; w o r d s: 3k+ words. s u m m a r y: yoongi perfectly knows how much she loves the snow and he prays it will be the sole thought to bring a little joy to her; w a r n i n g s: mentions of depression, mental illness, swearing;

a/n: the pov is yoongi’s and he refers to the reader in a third person. talking about a delicate topic such as depression is not easy and most of the stuff in this fic is from my personal experience + the researches I’ve done about the topic. I’m always scared as hell posting this, so reviews and comments are always appreciated! also: this was inspired by crystal snow and while writing it I was listening to breathe me by sia and where’s my love by syml (alternate version). enjoy! <3

The incessant ticketing of the clock on the cramped kitchen’s wall echoes through the darkness of the apartment. Everything is quiet, still covered in the shadows of a day that is yet far away to start. The cold weather outside and the lack of heating makes the air ungodly freezing, pinching at Yoongi’s body unpleasantly, as he grunts his sleep away by scrunching his eyes and reprimanding a yawn. He surely hates winter, at least when he can’t afford a heating system that would allow him not to find extremely hard to leave his bed in the mornings – not that he wants to, anyway.

He sighs with satisfaction as his early morning routine starts with a highly needed dose of caffeine, probably the only good thing in his days lately, and looks up at the clock on the wall. He scrunches his nose at the sound, unnervingly loud in his ears as it’s the only companion he has right now. As he voices a grunt of displeasure having already finished his coffee, he restrains himself from throwing something at that damn thing on the wall.

I could try, he thinks, maybe that would catch her attention. Maybe she could wake up and enter the kitchen. Yoongi smiles bitterly, closely analyzing the state of this part of his small apartment. There are few dishes from past days left in the sink, the result of his tiredness (or, to be honest, just plain laziness) from work, and on the two counters and the tiny table near the window there are remains of instant noodles and ready-made pasta sauces. And he’s not even mentioning the emptiness of their fridge. Probably she’d kill him, if she knew the state of their shared kitchen. Or any other part of their tiny space they were able to find after a long, exhausting research.

Days have become much slower, unhealthier and unhappy since she’s not around anymore. He loved the way she would wake up only to share the mornings together, even if she started work hours later. Her sleepy smile is extremely missed, as the way she always swatted his arm when he grunted to her, scolding her for spilling precious drops of coffee on the counter. She constantly forgot to wear her glasses first thing in the morning, and that was the result.

Yoongi scruffs his feet on the wooden pavement as he reaches again their bedroom, quietly picking up his clothes from the closet so he can get ready for another boring day of work. He turns around and glances at her, studying her sleeping form. She’s balled under tons of blankets, but Yoongi can perfectly distinguish her hand under her cheek and her long, messy hair partially covering her eyes. Her expression, as far he can presume, is deep into slumber. He exhales a relieved sigh. At least she’s getting a little of sleep.

The times he caught her awake, watching outside their window where houses, buildings and the far away skyline of the city could be seen, are uncountable. And whenever she realizes Yoongi is watching her, completely stilled as he’s facing a rare species for the first time, his worried gaze on her, she would close her eyes and pretend nothing happened. Or worse, she would glance again outside, her eyes watery. Times like that are the only ones where Yoongi would finally made eye contact with her. For brief moments, he’s able to study her gentle features, the round shape of her bright eyes and the petals that formed her mouth.

Now, those same eyes were deprived from their vivacity, as her cheeks are constantly pale – the adorable shade of color that tinted them each time she returned home was just a faint memory. Her strangely squeaky laugh, that Yoongi would never admit he loved so much, doesn’t fill their apartment like it used to.

Yoongi often asks himself what she thinks whenever their eyes met. What’s passing through her mind in that precise moments, and why she always pretends she’s sleeping although he perfectly knows she’s not. Sometimes, he’s terrified how he isn’t able to reach her as he was used to do before. There were few things in life he was sure of, and one of them was being able to read her – recognizing the curve of her lips whenever she finds something funny but couldn’t say it out loud due to inappropriateness, or the way she fidgets her fingers whenever she’s embarrassed. Her body is like a panorama he couldn’t possibly be tired of. He could close his eyes and follow every inch and scrape of her features, naming each scrape and angle.

The person she’s right now isn’t her, he finds himself thinking frequently. It’s an empty shell that lays on a bed that isn’t warm anymore, not when they don’t talk, laugh or make love on it. Not when the complicity they shared is shattered, and no matter how much effort he puts in trying to recompose the pieces together, nothing seems to work. It’s like extending a hand that, for a few inches, isn’t reachable. It’s frustrating as hell and Yoongi’s blood boils whenever the thought crosses his mind. He then can’t do anything but breaking things, crying, screaming. He is desperate.

As a mouse trapped into a labyrinth, going crazy because he can sense there’s a way out of this whole mess, but he isn’t able to find it.

Yoongi tugs too roughly on his pants, almost tripping on himself while walking to their bathroom as a wave of rage he’s barely able to control almost drowns him. He faintly hears her moving on the bed, the comfy covers shuffling and a soft moan escaping her lips. He stops himself midway, checking her out with frenetic eyes. He doesn’t breathe as he desperately hopes that maybe today she’ll say something to him. Even if it’s a mere breathed and angry be quiet, he really doesn’t care. Probably, Yoongi would cry right then and there for hearing her voice again.

It’s frustrating, not knowing how to help her. Yoongi shuffles his black hair and tugs on the bangs, because her world has crumbled and his miserably with hers. He feels in a painful limb, where their hands, once tangled strongly together, are slowly untying. And he’s unable to stop this horribly, faithful they seem will face incredibly soon.

Yoongi can’t exactly point when everything begun. There isn’t a precise moment, or an event he can recall that makes him thinks that’s why, and he’s safe to say he hates himself because he wasn’t able to read the little signs he now knows she leaved him, or whenever she shrugged off her discomfort and he didn’t insist enough to talk to her, to let her relish her feelings onto him. He would have take everything she gave him. Everything.

This past year hasn’t been easy for them. Damn, it’s not just this one year, he bitterly thinks. Their economical situation has drastically dropped into a more precarious, insidious one. Being young and with wide dreams doesn’t help at all in the ruthless world they lived in, nor it is realizing that life mostly gives you lemons and what the fuck, most of the times you can’t even make a proper lemonade – not when they were risking losing everything they worked hard for. They have given their blood, sweat and tears to find the cramped apartment they are sharing now, frantically searching for something they could simply afford. Their neighborhood isn’t the fanciest, nor the one with that pretty view she loved so much, but at least they found something that’s theirs, and theirs only.

For a while, everything was fine. Although they kept struggling with their work schedules and tired exhales were made whenever their limbs ached returning home, Yoongi distinctly saw a tiny sparkle in their future, the kind that allowed him to dream a little for themselves. He dreamed of her continuing her studies, reaching the goals she set for herself, and for him to brush his fingers onto his piano again. The soft looks and quiet smiles they shared made Yoongi aware they were both thinking about that future, and he knew, no, he was sure they saw the same sparkle.

But then everything vanished into the thin air, like ashes raised into the wild, freezing wind.

First, it was the way she dragged herself outside bed, and slowly lost her smile. Then it was the way she could cheer him up in the first lights of mornings with a caress or a whispered loving word, whenever he was too tired even to properly think, that vanished away. Her somber presence gradually took over her solar one, and soon enough everything she did became mechanical, dull and without no reason other than not let herself and Yoongi starve. That is, until now.

Yoongi glances again to the bundle of covers she was under, and briefly shakes his head. He’s unaware of the motif behind her sudden worsening of conditions. The only thing he remembers is the door slumming shut too early for her shift to be ended, and her feet that stumbled until she reached their bedroom, hastily leaving her shoes and clothes behind to let the covers engulf her. He presumed it was something about work, and for a brief, frightening moment he believed she was fired. But after a few days, when he received a telephone call from her employee asking why she wasn’t present at work, Yoongi had a hard time even stuttering two words coherently. He briefly asked if something particular happened, but when he received a shrugged response he told her boss she was sick.

That was almost two weeks ago. And that unease sensation Yoongi felt when he had that call, isn’t still leaving him at peace. His senses are on full alert, as if something worse could happen any moment. If he tries to feed her, she refuses. If he tries to talk to her, she’s completely quiet. Sometimes, he faintly hears her in the middle of the night, when she probably thinks he’s deeply asleep, walking into the bathroom, crying. She then walks around the apartment with no apparent reason, then she comes back to bed.

The last time he heard her was two days ago. Although his eyes were close shut, Yoongi could perfectly picture her eyes filled with tears, scrolling through her puffed, rose tinted cheeks, while her hand anxiously dragged her hair back, her shoulders hiccupped uncontrollably. He needed to control himself just to not scream or punch the first object in his sight, restraining himself from intervening. The last time he tried didn’t ended well.

Yoongi exhales. His morning routine is now finished and even if he’s apparently ready to face another day at work, he doesn’t feel like it, at all. The weather seems to perfectly accompany him with his grey clouds and dull light, and he bitterly smiles to himself, mockingly thinking it could be the suitable entrance of a character in those tv dramas she occasionally watches.

He hears her stir in her sleep again, and suddenly the curiosity takes better of him and his feet step closer to her side of their bed, her closed eyes and long eyelashes entering Yoongi’s view. The pout she formed tells him she’s not having a peaceful sleep anymore, nor the way her strain of hair on her temples are damped. Munching on his lower lip, he hesitates, his hand hovering over her form, unsure to touch her. He doesn’t do it anymore, since the day she started to fly away from his feathery, loving touches. He takes a deep breath again and right then she murmurs something unintelligible, brows furrowed and painting slightly.

Before Yoongi can ponder about anything else, his hand is on her forehead, waving away bangs of wet hair. His expression softens and at the same times covers with such a melancholy, the moment her expression relaxes onto his touch. He’s unwilling to let that caress go to fast, finally able to physically do something to shove away the pain and distress in her. His hand strokes her cheeks, flowing to her hair with such a delicacy and then going back, too afraid of breaking her, of waking her. He blinks a few times, realizing his eyes are wet with tears, feeling the lump in his throat suffocating him.

When his first sob leaves his lips, he shies away from her.

He fiddles with his jacket, quickly grabbing his things before he’s out of the apartment. The cold air of December hits him like a firetruck, but it’s so welcomed he doesn’t care the slightest. The freezing temperature of the morning dries the tears on his cheeks in seconds, and he inhales profoundly as his mind starts to clear. He needs to be strong for her and support her in the way she needs the most. How to do that, though? The only he’s aware of how hard is to watch someone you genuinely care for rotting and can’t be able to reach them. He desperately wants her to know he is there and she’s not alone. That they can do it, together.

Yoongi runs his hands into his hair, messing them and grunting loudly. He covers his eyes for a few moments, trying to recollect himself before he’s out there into the lively, busy streets that he needs to cross in order to go to work. He doesn’t even care his scarf doesn’t cover him properly, not shielding for a particularly powerful gust of wind that has his skin growing with goosebumps. His onyx eyes are glued to the pavement of the sidewalk, his lips are thighed together, almost fully white.

Then, something extremely cold and small brushes the tip of his nose and after a few moments, another one is on his right cheek. His expression distorts into confusion, as his eyes flutter to realize it’s a snowflake. A tiny, little one that hasn’t melted yet. It’s still there and oh, they’re starting to descend gradually into the ground. The time stops for a few moments, as his lips quiver before finally open into a small circle. His nose is up in the air as he watches the morbid shade of gray that covers the sky. The perfect hue that calls for snowfall, as his grandfather always used to say.

Yoongi stops abruptly, recalling the first time he and her saw the snow together. Well, that was the first time she saw snow falling. As she lived in a country where for the most part of the year it was warm and sunny weather, the white little freckles were something endearing to her, almost magical to her eyes, the way they covered everything in white. Pure, enchanting, marvelous, adjectives Yoongi also associates her with. He can perfectly picture her eyes glinting with glee, her brightest smile painted and her cheeks red from joy and the cold hitting her face. She couldn’t stay still for a moment, as shrieks of excitement filled her mouth, catching each snowflake and showing him the most defined ones. “They’re amazing, Yoongs! Look at this one!”, she was thrilled and Yoongi didn’t restrain himself from smiling at her, his heart doing somersaults to see her so happy. “Promise me we’ll going to live somewhere where snows at least once a year,” she exclaimed laughing, and Yoongi found himself nodding without hesitation.

The memory fills his brain and his heart, as his stomach drops and he’s gulping again. He knows the littlest details could make the difference sometimes, when everything they see is just plain, pitch black. He’s so desperate he clutches uncontrollably to that thought, while his legs move before he could think straight and he’s quickly coming back home. If she sees it, maybe she’ll smile. If she sees the snow, maybe she’ll think not everything is falling apart.

He is panting uncontrollably when he reaches the apartment complex he lives in, fumbling with the keys and storming to the stairs, covering two scales at the time. He doesn’t care if he’s doing a mess, if he’ll get scolded or he wakes her up abruptly entering the house. She must see the snow. She must know there’s still something good in her life.

By the time he’s entering the apartment, silence greats him. Everything is in the exact same way he left it, the air slightly stained and the fastidious rumors of the pipes interrupts every now and then the godly stillness of the entire apartment. Yoongi shuffles to their bedroom, not bothering to leave his jacket or any of his things behind him.

The moment he enters the rooms, his breaths itches and his eyes widen. His limbs don’t respond anymore, as he stays still in the entrance, his mouth slightly agape. His breath is accelerated, but he doesn’t care in the slightest. He engulfs her waking and sitting form, her back turned to him, her hair messy and the old pinky pajama she’s wearing completely creased. Her face is turned to the window, where it’s now clearly visible the snowflakes that fall.

There isn’t a word that comes from Yoongi’s mouth, neither from hers too. But he’s sure she knows he is in the room, so with soft, silent steps he approaches her, totally terrified he could scare her away. Yoongi can hear his beating heart into his ears, roaring furiously as glances at her eyes glued to the window. They’re watery, he notices, but there is a different glint into them, her lips quivering. She’s gazing the snow as if she has just been awaken from a long, exhausting dream. Her breathes fills the room, slightly ragged.

Then, as she’s finally acknowledge his presence in his room, she turns to him. Yoongi is now fully looking at her ethereal and beautiful features, how the soft curves of her cheeks and the eyes he so much adores are eventually looking at him, seeing him for the first time in months. It strikes him she’s still alive, breathing and awake. Yoongi exhales deeply, taking in his lungs as much air as possible so he doesn’t crumble in front of her. His mind is blank white and focused on her form that is coloring his soul and mind again. He isn’t aware of how many minutes passes, how they observe each other in a stilled silence that no one dares to break.

At last, her lips move to form a smile, as her head move slightly in the way she always does when something particularly makes her glinting, her eyes forming crescents.

“Yoongs, it’s snowing.” Her voice is throaty yet endearing, surprised even.

“I know,” he cracks, smiling a little.

And then, his arms are wrapped around her in a tight embrace.

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dean-imagine-reblogs · 7 years ago

Text

What’s an Omega?

Character: Dean x Reader Author: Dean-imagine-reblogs Word Count: 7000-ish (it’s very long but it’s complete!) Meanings: Y/N=First Name L/N=Last Name H/C=Hair Colour B/S = Body Shape Y/H = Your Height O/H/C = Other Hair Colour Y/A=Your Age “”=speaking ‘’=thinking

A/N: I hope you enjoy it, there is some s*x/smut in it. This story changes between your and dean’s POV.

If you want to know more about the A/B/O genre then follow the link (Seems that spn is the start of this fanlore haha kind of funny to find out about it ) https://fanlore.org/wiki/Alpha/Beta/Omega

Enjoy and leave a comment! Masterlist ------------ *Y/N POV* You had been taking the pill since before you came here. Luckily you had just picked up two new packets of the pill from the pharmacy before you arrived here, in the SPN world. So you've been here for…maybe six months? You're still trying to find a way to get you home, but specifically to the right dimension. In the meantime Dean and Sam had finally excepted where you were from and that you "knew" them but they didn't know you. It is a weird environment to be in! But they were getting more and more used to you… but so were you. They weren't the same as in the show. It was the small things like… Sam actually liked junk food and Dean didn't really love pie. You know the little things. Anyway you were busy with research while the guys were getting ready for a new case on. Before they left Dean came up to you with a cellphone. "If anything happens, call us immediately. If we don't pick up then leave a message. If you need someone immediately then call Garth, he'll help you." Dean said with his serious face. You just smiled. "Don't worry I'm staying here at the bunker, doing some research. Just be careful, okay?" He turned around and walked towards the exit. "Dean?" "Yeah, yeah. We've been doing this our whole lives you know." He said turning around to face you, you pulled a face and said. "Stop being a smartass and just tell me you'll watch out." He raised his eyebrow a bit. "Yeah, yeah." He said as he turned back to the door. You caught a glimmer of a faint smile as he closed it behind him. You just chuckled and went back to the library to continue your research.

It had been 3 days since they left and you were going crazy with all this research with only dead-ends. It was discouraging but back to your pill ‘problem’. You've continued to take them since you got here but two days before the guys left you ran out. So you thought ‘oh well’ and decided just to let the blood-bath hit you while the guys were gone. On the second day you started to get really bad cramps. Which wasn't weird but you've never had them this bad before. On the third day it seemed like you were getting a fever and to your surprise, there was no blood-bath, just the horrible cramps and slick. Which again, you found weird. By the fourth day you were in pure agony. The cramps were getting unbearable and your fever was rising. You decided to stay in your bed for the day with enough painkillers to make you pass out. Unfortunately, of course, you were nearly out of painkillers. At the end of the fourth day you decided to call Dean, finding it to annoying to type a message. “Hello?” you heard Dean’s rough voice. Why did you find him sound so sexy at the moment? “Dean? It's Y/N.” “Wow, have you been drinking? You sound a bit…rough?” Dean asked but you didn't respond. It was as if when Dean spoke the cramps got worse. “Y/N, are you okay?” Dean asked. "Yeah I'm okay but I think I'm getting the flu, could you pick up some pain killers on your way back?" You though you could hear a sigh of relief? "Sure, we'll be there in two days. Think you can last until then?" “Asif I've got a choice.” You said with a soft chuckle. How you could laugh in a situation like this was beyond you. “We'll be there as soon as we ca-” you cut him off “Don't, like I said before be careful and I'll see you soon.” You could hear him chuckle. “Yeah, yeah.” and you hung up. You put on your oversized sleeping shirt and got into bed after taking like 7 painkillers. Which is not the advised dose but you are feeling like you are dying and just want the lights to go out for a couple of hours. When you woke up the pain was even worse, if that was even possible. The cramps were coming in heavy waves, you were feeling abnormally hot and your vision was blurry. After a while you realized that were fading in and out of consciousness and that you were moaning. You don't know how long you've been lying there but every so often you could hear a sound, your cellphone. Every time you tried to move towards it, you either moaned out in those horrible cramps or blacked out again. It didn't take long either for you to feel something wet on your face, only to realize you were crying. After what you think were another couple of hours, you could hear some rushed noises and your door slamming open. You felt like you were hit by a wall, a relieving wall, that made you moan again. One figure just stood there and then another figure showed up. You didn't hear what they were saying and you didn't care since you were preoccupied by a massive wave of cramps anyway. *Dean's POV* We’re on the road, heading back towards the bunker. We had finished the job earlier than expected, plus I wanted to get back to Y/N. She hasn't text me back, which for some reason caused the alpha inside me started to get protective. It had been a quiet ride back. We were nearly home when Sam turned the music off. “What do you think you are doing?” “What’s the deal between you and Y/N?” He said, ignoring me. “What are you talking about? There is nothing ‘between’ me and her.” Sam started to laugh. “You’re joking, right?” “No.” “Dude, you are totally falling for her.” “Am not.” “Uhm, yes you are.” “Shut up.” ‘Just drop it Sammy, I don’t want to talk about it.’ It was dead silent in the car and even now I could hear his silent bitchin. He won’t let this go, I looked at him and he was staring back at me in his bitchin, judging manner. I looked at the road again and speeded up. I wanted to get out of this car as soon as possible. “You know what, you keep out of my love life and I’ll keep out of yours.” “Love life huh?” He said in a smug way. I love my brother but right now I want to kill him for his bitchin, I swear. “I don’t need to explain anything to you.” --- I called her several times on the ride here but she hadn’t answered. This didn’t feel right, there was something wrong. I jumped out of the car and ran inside to check on her. I ran into the library and kitchen but she wasn’t there. “Y/N?” She didn’t respond either. “Where is she?” I mumbled to myself. “I don’t know but… do you smell that?” Sam asked. He was right there was a smell, very faint, a sweet scent. I ran towards the stairs, going to the bedrooms. The smell was getting stronger, I opened her bedroom door and there she was. In bed, crying and in heat. Her scent was so strong, so intoxicating… it can’t be. “Omg, Y/N?” I faintly heard Sam say. She started to moan. I could feel my chest rise and hurt. I was ready to march towards her when I realized Sam had his hand on my chest and was holding me back. Making me growl in responds, Sam needed to back off. "Stop" Sam said, I didn’t take my eyes off her. "She asked for pain killers." Sam said. “So?” I said in an annoyed grunt, jaw clenched, fixated on Y/N. "She doesn't know." He was right but I just couldn't think straight. Her scent was so strong, it was obviously her first heat! “Dean, go.” he pulled me at my arm, closing the door. "Now.” It was only then that I really saw Sam, he was also having a hard time too. He was right, we had to go.

--- “Dean, what are we going to do?” I looked at Sam but I didn’t have an answer either, not really. "I don’t know man but we can't leave her there, you saw her." I said rubbing into my eyes. “Well, what are we supposed to do then?! Nearly everybody we know are alpha’s except for Charlie but she's somewhere chasing flying monkeys, Jody is unreachable and we can't go in there. I am not going in there and especially you cannot go in there!” I felt attacked by Sam, saying I couldn't see Y/N but he was right. “This is not good.” I said as I pinch the bridge of my nose. It was silent for a moment. “We can leave her? I'm sure she'll pull through.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “No, no way.” I looked at Sammy. “What are we supposed to do then, Dean?” He raised his voice and hands in question. I thought for a moment. “Well I know one thing for damn sure and that’s that I’m not just leaving her like that to 'sick it out'! C’mon Sammy, like you said, she thinks this is the flu for god’s sake. She doesn't know what’s happening and this could last another week!” “Whatever Dean but besides that… I just can’t believe she's an omega. How did we miss that?” Sam finished quietly. Sammy was right. To be honest, I was just as surprised as him, omegas are rare. Usually an alpha would end up with a feminine Beta just because of the lack of omega’s. I could see Sam thinking again. “What?” He looked a bit doubtful but said it anyway. “Well… this isn’t going away anytime soon and since her heat started already, suppressants won’t work anymore so… you should knot her.” “What?!” I did NOT hear that right. “Knot her.” I now just snorted at that. “Yeah right.” And looked away. “Why not Dean?” I looked back at him. “Why not? Are you friggin kidding me?!” I can’t believe he was seriously asking me that. “You like her, don't you? I've seen the way you've looked at her for the last 4 months.” I can’t believe this. “Dude I'm not gonna knot some girl who doesn't even know that's she's a friggin omega. Hell, I bet ya she doesn't even know what it is or means” “But-” He was just not gonna let this go! “No! I'm not gonna knot her because… the way she is now I might end up mating her, without her consent.” Sam fell silent at that. He was a good brother but he just didn’t understand it. Alpha senses are very different when it came to omega’s, at least compared to beta’s like Sam. “So the answer is no and that's final.” Sam got this look, I could feel the alpha in me rise. “And neither are you!” Sam raised his hand in defense. “Dude I'm not going down there until her heat is over. I’ll be honest even as a beta, I won't be able to handle an omegas first heat. I barely got away from there to begin with.” I let my hand slide over my face again, this was so not good. I then got sick of waiting around. I went to the bags and took the painkillers. I made my way towards the door that leads to all our bedrooms. “What are you doing?!” I could hear the fear in Sam’s voice. “I’m going down there and don't you dare to follow me. Keep your phone with you, I might call you with a list of stuff that you might have to get.” As I closed the door I could hear Sammy say. “Doesn’t love her, huh?” I quickly dashed downstairs and into my room. I went through the drawers and found my suppressants shots. Lucky me, I had been in rut just a week ago so the suppressant should have a better effect on me now that I’m ‘normal’. I took two shots just to be sure and sat there in my room for a couple of minutes to let’s effect work. ‘She didn’t look well, I need to get close to her.’ I looked at my watch, it’s been 20 minutes since I saw her. “I'm not going to leave her.” I tell myself as I exit my room. As I walk down the hallway I can smell her scent, it smells like heaven. ‘And it could be mine’ I stopped himself. I should have waited longer for the suppressant to have worked. ‘What am I even doing? Why won’t I just leave her?’ Unfortunately the answer to that was quite simple. Sammy was right. In the beginning I didn't like Y/N, she knew too much but as time passed she turned out to be really awesome and sweet. I actually started to appreciate her more and recently I caught myself thinking about stuff and wondering what Y/N’s opinion would be. To be honest, that scared the crap out of me. But on another subject, I don’t understand why this is happening now. Why hadn't I smelled it on her before? I didn’t even know she was an omega and I was the alpha in this home. How did I not notice? I collected my thoughts again and continued my way to Y/N's bedroom. I took a deep breath and opened the door. Her scent hit me again like a giant brick wall. She was lying on the bed, cramped up and moaning which must be because of my alpha scent. I looked at her face, her eyes screwed shut and crying. She was crying. I could feel my chest raising and my shoulders broadening in a defensive manner. I had to calm myself down again. After a minute I set a first step into the room, I took another step and another and another. I looked at Y/N, she looked flushed and out of breath. She opened her eyes, looking at me with her hazed E/C eyes. “Dean?” she asked in a pleading manner and it took everything in me not to respond to the alpha within. “Dean, I don't know how I got sick.” Tears rolling down her cheek and her hands grasping onto her stomach. “I’m sorry.” She begged for help. She did not beg for me or an alpha and in a very far corner in my mind that pissed off the alpha in me because this meant that she was not begging for me to breed her. But as I heard her crying, I could feel something break inside me. She genuinely didn't know what this was and instead of a typical heat breading scent, she let out a scared and confused one which made it an easier for me to suppress the instinctive alpha inside me. “Dean?” I went over to her and cautiously sat on the bed next to her. She then really started to moan, her body going into shocks because of the cramps. What happened next, I didn't want to but I had to. I started to get nervous, I hadn’t done that in a long time, I used my alpha voice to make her listen. “Y/N, stop shaking.” Her body stopped shaking. “Sit up.” and she did, slowly but still. “Look at me.” and she looked at me and I looked straight into her eyes. She looked in pain and confused. “Dean?” she moaned. I swallowed at that, forcing myself not to imagine hearing her say my name like that as I would knot her. I desperately pushed that thought away. “Yes?” “Do you know what's going on with me?” Her eyes begging me, nearly hypnotizing, I couldn’t lie. “Yes.” “Can you help me, Dean?” I swallowed even harder at that one and couldn’t suppress a growl. Y/N moaned at that. This was not going well, I have to take care of her and quick before I have to run out of this room again. “I’m going to help you get through this and when you're better I'll let you decide.” She nodded her head in agreement. I put my hand on her forehead, she was having a serious fever, even for an omega in heat. I grabbed her shoulders to guide her to the shower but she blacked out. “Y/N? Y/N?!” I lightly tapped her cheeks, trying to wake her up but it didn’t work. “Damnit!” I was starting to get panicked, this was not good. I pulled the sheet off of her being hit with another wave of her scent. She wasn't wearing any pants, only her panties, which were soaked through with her slick. I clenched my jaw and took her bridal-style into the bathrooms and put her into the bath and let the water run. Hopefully this would lower her body temperature. I took my cellphone and called Sammy, he picked up very quickly. “How are you doing?” “Awesome.” I answered sarcastically. “That bad, huh?” He said and he has no idea. Let’s just say that I’m glad I had the 2 suppressants. “I need you to get some stuff.” I said as I cupped some water with my hand and rinsed it over Y/N’s face. “Sure” I was glad Sam didn’t make a fuss about the list. The only annoying question he asked was how I knew what exact stuff I needed. I didn’t even respond to that. “Just hurry up Sam.” I barked at him, right my patience was running thin. This was about the wellbeing of my ome- I mean Y/N. I took the hose and let the water run over her body. After, I think, 45min her fever finally started to drop a bit. After a while Sam quickly brought the supplies and after the shower I dried Y/N off. She was still warm but that was normal. I carried her to the bed but every time I wanted to leave She’d moan out in pain again. So I decided to give her some medicine and lie next to her in bed. It didn’t take long for her to crawl against me. I’ve been on edge ever since I got in this room, not knowing how I would react to an omega and having her lie on my chest soothed her but it also soothed me. As she took hold of my shirt, with her head lying on my chest, occasionally moaning, her breath becoming more regular as I stroked her hair and she fell asleep. I felt proude for having soothed her, it’s something I hadn’t felt in a long time. For now I let her sleep, I intended on going and having some sleep myself but it felt wrong so I stayed and watched over her for now. -- This continued for a couple of days. Sam brought supplies and Y/N was in and out of consciousness. Every time I wanted to leave I just couldn’t, my instinct wouldn’t let me, I felt to protective of her. So during these days, the only times I left was when I absolutely had to for hygiene, food or drinks. I felt Y/N stir under my touch. I then felt her body language change into surprise, shock. She suddenly shot up, I held her arms so she wouldn’t fall of the bed. “Dean? What’s happening?” She asked me confused. There’s no getting around this anymore. She seems to be clear now and I don’t know how else to explain this. Here it goes, let’s see how she’s going to react. *Y/N POV* Dean had given me the explanation and I was trying to sum up the main things. "So basically my only choice is to lock myself up and go through that pain or to find myself a mate? Because if I don’t find a mate then that means that any random alpha can boss me around." I stated questionably. “Basically, yes.” Dean answered. “And the person has to be an alpha.” I asked skeptical, shaking my head, trying to wrap my head around this weird world. Dean answered very serious. “You can go for a beta but if you’re unlucky and run into a very dominant alpha, the ruling of the beta won’t stand a chance. An alpha scent quiet surely will keep you safe and will make sure that the other alpha’s don’t bother you because it’ll be clear that you’re already taken.” Dean explained calmly. I didn’t respond, I didn’t know how to. This was just so much bullshit but real information at once. It was silent for a long time. This is so frustrating, what kind of world creates this crap! It’s like going back to the stone ages with primates and shit but even worse than I ever could imagine… aargh! “Great. So I've got to mate somebody… and once that is done that person will be my partner… FOREVER and secondly I have to make sure that that person isn’t a total asshole who will intent to use me as some kind of slave because if so I’m simply not able to disobey that person?! And next to that every month and a half or so, instead of bleeding I’m just going to go crazy with pain, cramps, heat and become delusional.” I ranted nearly hysterical towards Dean. I couldn’t figure out his expression as he nodded yes. I then stared at my hands. I can’t believe this. This is NOT happening to me! I’m not going to be some good little damsel in destress and let all those alpha’s walk over me, I can’t live like that! I then really looked at my hands and saw that they were shaking. I only then noticed that my cheeks were wet and I was having trouble breathing. I felt a hand on my shoulder and slowly looked up. Dean was so close, I could feel his breath brushing my cheeks and my breath halted at that. Dean then spoke normal but for some reason it seemed so soothing to me, like I was in some kind of trance. “Don’t worry about it. For now you've just had your first heat. That will give you about a month and a half before you have the next. So for now take some rest.” He said as he stroked his thumb across my cheek, whipping the tears away. Again, why did it feel so soothing when Dean spoke? But besides that, if he was right then I’d have to find a solution within a month. ONE MONTH. Dean let go of my cheek. I groaned at the loss of touch and at the thought of having to go through this all over again. You’d think a month is long, trust me, it’ll be around the corner before I even freaking know it. My thoughts were then interrupted by Dean. “Besides maybe we'll find a way to get you home and you won’t have to.” He said. ‘God I hope not.’ Before I knew it I’d thought that. I should want to go home. I looked at Dean, looking him straight into his green eyes, feeling a bit sad. “I guess.” Dean gave a small smile and put his hand on my head and ruffled my hair. He stood up and walked towards the door. “Dean?” He turned around. “hmm” “Thank you, ya know… for being here.” He didn’t say anything he just gave me a soft smile and nod and left the room. *1,5 months later* Sam left on a hunt with Garth and Dean just came back from a hunt with Jody. “You’re in heat again.” He stated, dropping his bag on the table. “Why hello there Dean, nice to see you too. How was your day?” I said overfriendly and sarcastic. He just snorted at that, which in return made me sigh. “Is it that obvious?” I asked softly. “Well your scent is getting pretty strong.” He said, taking his guns out of his bag and putting them on the table. I put my book aside. “This is ridiculous, I didn��t have any cramps or feel heated until you walked in.” I moaned annoyed. It was very faint but I could hear Dean mumble. “There will be more where that came from.” It seriously pissed me off. “This isn't funny Dean!” He gave an annoyed sigh himself. “Oh believe me, I’m not laughing and if you can’t handle it then lock yourself up like the other omega’s!” His annoyance being very clear and it made me feel attacked. Against my feelings, which said that I shouldn’t speak against him, I carefully mumbled. “I don’t want to.” My mumble with a hint of shame. I could feel the tension in the air and hear Dean get really agitated as he made a heavy annoyed sigh. When he spoke, it made me flinch. “Well then you should have found yourself an alpha. I warned you this was going to happen.” Tears started to form in my eyes as he said that and I looked at the door that went downstairs. I had to swallow at the thought of it, I couldn’t help it. I didn't want this. I didn't want to be locked up and be in pain for a week maybe even two. Dean had given me some magazines that explained this stuff and I bought myself some toys but I read online that even that wasn’t really satisfying and could be ineffective… even though the dildo’s were huge at the tip. So conclusion was that even with the toys, I would still be out of it and in pain for like a week. Dean was right, I still didn’t have an alpha. I hadn’t even really tried. I didn’t want to be mated for life to some guy that I’d met and know for barely 3 weeks. This was only my second heat! I guess I just had to suck it up and get my toys… “You’re right. I’ll go down in a minute.” I said, not looking away from the door as I felt tears falling down my cheeks again. *Dean's POV* I looked at Y/N as she said that and saw the tears falling down her cheek. I’m such an idiot. This is just her second heat. It’s just, her scent drives me crazy. Right now I lose my temper so easily around her but seeing her cry, I just can’t take it to see her like that. Before I even realized what I said, I had already spoken it out loud. “I'm an alpha” I said, looking at her and getting my hopes up… what the HELL am I saying?! It took her a little while before she even looked at me and when she did I saw her giving me a sad smile. “Why doesn't that surprise me?” She answered. It stayed silent for a little while. Y/N continued to stare at the door, I looked at my bag and took out a few things and laid them onto the table. The silence was killing me, so I started to babble on. “We could… you know.” I’m not even sure if she’d heard me. When I look up I see her looking back at me but instead of laughing or cringing like I expected her to, she gave me this sad smile. “I don't want to ask that from you.” I felt my alpha pride being offended. “Why not?” Even I could hear the offence in my voice. I could see her flinch at my tone of voice. She hesitantly answered. “Uhm I don’t know about you but I thought we were talking about ‘mating’ not ‘knotting’.” I looked at her confused. “Yeah, I know what we were talking about.” I said seriously. She slightly turned her head in disbelieve, still looking at me. “Mating.” She said again articulating it very clearly. “Yeah, I get that.” I said. “Do you?” I couldn’t help myself and started to laugh. “Yes, I understand the meaning of mating Y/N.” I raised one eyebrow, she looked unsure and scared at my proposal. I don’t get it. “I’d thought you’d jump at an opportunity like this.” I said carefully, not daring to make a sudden move. It stayed silent for a while. I could actually see the gears turning in her head. I didn’t dare disturb her. I was surprised at myself for suggesting it but now that the cat was out of the box, I didn’t care anymore. And deep down I finally realized I actually loved her. I had actually know since the first time I smelled her scent. Sweetheart, please don’t break my heart. “We’re friends right?” She said, taking me by surprise. “At least I thinks so… right?” She continued carefully. I nearly cut her off, I responded so fast. “We are.” I couldn’t help but look her in the eyes. She didn’t look away and it had turned into a quite intense stare. After a while I broke the ice “So what’s the problem?” She sighed. “Because in my eyes you are amazing and you deserve better than some ‘friend’ from another dimension who wants to ‘solve this problem’ in order for her to behave ‘normal’.” She started to fiddle with her hands, staring at them. “You should be with an omega that you actually want to be with.” Her word were kind and yet hurtful at the same time. She was looking towards the floor. I walked towards her and with every step I moved closer I could feel her become tenser, her scent becoming stronger, her breath heavier. As for me, I didn’t notice anything else in the room, it was only her. It annoyed me that she didn’t look at me. I gently held her chin and guided it so that she couldn’t avoid my gaze any longer. It also became clear to me that Y/N didn’t recognize the effect my scent had on her but seeing her react to my touch, sound etc. it was obvious, she was my mate and I was hers. Just because of her lack of experience she didn’t notice. I’d have to make it clear to her in another way. “First of all.” I took a step closer. “I decide whether or not you're good enough for me and if I didn't like you then I wouldn't have said I was an alpha or suggested this in the first place.” She seemed speechless at the moment, her cheeks flushed, I couldn’t help but tease her a little bit. “And besides we’ll only be stuck to each other for a little while, literally.” I said while smirking. “Literally?” She asked almost shocked. I can’t believe this and started to get annoyed again. “Didn’t you look any of this up?” I asked annoyed and she flinched but to my own arousal and surprise she bite back. “I’ve been a bit busy!” She said pointing at the stacks of books and paperwork scattered over the two tables. Which were mainly researches for me and Sam’s cases and also some lore about getting her home. ‘Hn, feisty omega.’ I looked from her to the table, back and forth and noticed certain books about dimensions and time travel. ‘Home, her home.’ I felt my gut falling, she’s been searching for a way home so even if I’ve found my mate there is still a chance she’ll leave me. That would be just my luck. Even the thought of it already hurt worse than hell. Having found not just an omega but my true mate and from another dimension none other the less and then this might happen. I looked at her and she seemed to still wait for an answer. “Yeah I guess.” I answered carefully. Y/N stayed quiet for a bit until I heard her whisper something. “What?” I asked. She looked up at me with her bright E/C eyes. “Does that mean you like me? Even just a little bit.” She asked shyly. I couldn’t help but let out an aroused grunt. “Yes.” There was another long silence, her scent became stronger, as I held my breath. She then carefully spoke again. “Are you sure? I don’t want this to get weird between us.” Her scent was getting stronger and stronger by the second. I briefly closed my eyes, focused and then looked straight into her eyes without a doubt in my mind. “Yes, I’m sure.” Not realizing I was using my alpha voice to reassure her. I could see and feel the tension leave her and she smiled at me as I gave her a small smile back. I took a step back before I would completely lose control. “You go ahead downstairs. I’ll have a quick shower, by then you should have reached your peak, it will be more effective then.” I explained. She nodded and started to walk towards the door when I thought of something. “You have been taking the anti-conception shots, right?” I asked concerned. She turned around and was blown away by the confident, cheeky smile and tone she responded with. “Yes, why? Afraid you’ll get me pregnant?” She giggled in a nearly sadistic and daring way. I don’t even think I’d have to wait too long to reach my peak. The way she is right now, I could take her on the spot. ‘MY omega.’ ---- *Y/N POV* I followed dean’s instructions, thinking about him, his scent still hung around me. I only got warmer and warmer, the cramps came again in stronger waves. It’s as if the further away dean was the worse I got. I went into my room, laid down on the bed and waited for dean as I held my stomach in pain. It was odd, before, Dean’s words had soothed me and I couldn’t wind my mind around the fact that Dean would be my mate. I’m going to have sex with Dean Winchester and not ‘normal’ sex either. I started to get nervous, feeling like some kind of virgin, because I didn’t know what to expect really. I’d never done it as an omega. I was never so out of it, horney, warm and desperate like I was now. I had closed my eyes and couldn’t keep my breathing under control, the cramps felt unbearable. I heard someone moaning only to realize that it was me. It then became dark, I didn’t notice anything until I felt a hand on my arm, the hand feeling intense warm on my skin. “Dean?” I moaned and was met with lips touching mine. I tried to slowly opened my eyes but they felt so heavy, I could only open them half way. I saw dean, flushed as well with a wild look in his eyes. There was this smell around him, it must have been his scent. It was so strong, it felt like a soothing, numbing fog. He let out a heavy like animal grunt. I stopped overthinking it. I let my hand go over his chest, he didn’t have a shirt on. It was so hot and electrifying. My other hand went to the back of his neck as his hands went to my lower back, pulling us closer together, feeling him rubbing against me. Dean’s lips hungrily and rough went from my mouth to my jawline and going over my neck. Biting at it but not breaking skin. He pulled back and I let out a frustrated moan and let out a grunt in response. “My omega.” He said as he took off all his clothes. “Dean” I moaned as his scent became stronger and he helped me take off my clothes. We were now completely naked, with me pinned down under him. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them down over my head, he kissed and nibbled my neck as he said with his rough voice. “I’m your alpha” As he said the word ‘alpha’ he slightly bit my skin, making me gasp out. Feeling myself become slick, trying to rub my thighs to stop the throbbing but dean stopped me. Dean bit my skin again and I moaned out. “Dean” He bit again but harder. I let out a gasp and moaned again. “Alpha…” He licked this time and then bite again. “my alpha” I moaned. He bit harder, nearly drawing blood and let out another animal like moan. His manhood throbbing against my lower body, twitching. I let out an even louder moan. Indicating that I wanted more, I needed more and I needed it now. “Alpha!” You quickly felt yourself being filled. You let out moans as dean whispered in your ear. “My omega” “Good omega” “Mine” “Breed” “I’m going to knot you” “Mine” “My omega” over and over again. As he whispered his pace got faster until he was really pounding into you. With every thrust you let out a moan of pleasure and want. He let go of your wrists and immediately your hands went to the back of his shoulders, clawing into them. Receiving a heavy grunt from Dean. You had no idea how long Dean had been pounding into you or how long you had been clawing at his back, moaning for him. He seemed to get close, he suddenly pulled out of you. Before you could complain he had turned you around, face down, lifted up your backside and filled you up again. Going at a merciless pounding speed. Making you literally cry out of bliss as Dean kept going and kissed your back. You felt him getting bigger inside you, feeling him throb, knowing he was close you started calling for him. “Alpha, fill me. Make me whole.” Dean started having difficulty moving inside you. “Omega. Knotting you. Fill you up. My Omega.” Dean pushed inside you as far as he could, feeling yourself being filled to the max by his knot and Dean letting out a big grunt as he filled you up with his semen. You went over the edge as he bit your neck but not like the previous times, he bit deep, drawing blood. Your entire body shook, overloaded with sensations. It felt like forever that you were being filled up by him and with his teeth still sinking into your shoulder. Your suddenly felt weak, heavy, like a rage doll. You felt Dean letting go of your shoulder and nuzzling your neck, whispering all kinds of things. He was still inside you when he carefully turned you two to the side and held you tight in his arms. He kissed and licked your bite mark as you fell asleep satisfied. Half hour later you woke up and you were still connected to Dean. He quickly explained and made some smartass comments. “You are pretty awesome, for an alien.” Dean said snorting the last bit. I playfully slapped him and offendedly answered. “Says the guy biting my neck like a vampire and having his dick stuck inside me while pumping me full with… his semen.” Just saying it out loud made my cheeks heat up while moaning it out and having it throb down below. Dean automatically responded by growling and biting my neck once more, again drawing blood. Making me yelp in surprise, feeling him tense and fill me up once more. We stayed like that for a while until dean let go of my neck. I let myself go limp in his embrace but I still wondered. “Dean?” He kissed my neck as he responded “hmmm”. “I've been wondering, is it always like this here?” He stopped kissing me “What do you mean?” I could feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “I-I mean is the sex always so intense and… good.” He stayed silent for a minute and then answered. “No.” I tensed, did I just embarrass myself, am I the onl- “That only happens with mates, my omega” he growled, nibbling and kissing your neck. “You were amazing.” You felt such relief and aroused hearing that. “I’ve been wondering” Dean asked and you hummed in acknowledgment. “How does it go at your place then? Don’t you people knot or something?” You started to giggle a bit, thinking about the situation you are in and answered. “No, dicks don't usually swell up until they get themselves stuck inside someone.” You could just feel him rolling his eyes and you continued. “And no, there are no alpha’s, betas or omegas.” It then became quiet and you looked over your shoulder at Dean. He looked in thought before asking. “But how do you know if you've found your mate?” You smirked and gave him a light peck on the lips. “We don't, we need to work hard for our relationships and hope that the person you love is truly your other half. Only time will tell.” You saw Dean thinking as he nodded in understanding. It only then occurred to you what he had actually said and asked. You to turn around to look at him as best as you could without hurting each other since you were still stuck together. “Wait a second! Do alpha’s or omega’s know who their true partner or mate is?” Your surprise clearly noticeable in your voice. “Well it’s different for everybody but you can usually smell it from there scent.” You looked at him surprised as his answer dawned on you. Your eyes grew wide and you started to mumble without real words coming out. Dean sighed. “I smelled it. The first time you went into heat.” You were still surprised as Dean knowingly smirked and gloated over you. “Me?” You asked the obvious. He nodded at first and then shook his head. “You didn’t notice a thing did you.” He said and slightly raised his eyebrow as if he wanted to say ‘you idiot’. “I-I-I didn’t know. I-I just always thought you smelled good.” He grabbed your chin and kissed you passionately. When we were both out of breath, we looked at each other. “My alpha” You moaned “My omega.” “Stay with me.” Dean asked you, his voice sounding like a plea. Without a doubt in your mind. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay here with Dean. “I’m not going anywhere.” You stroke his scruffy cheek, him leaning into your hand. “But do you even like me?” You teased him. “Obviously” he mumbled into your hand while rolling his eyes. ”Obviously? As if you’re captain-obvious about stuff like this.” You laughed. He pulls you closer and whispered in your ear. “Let me put it this way. Even if you had my mating scent, I wouldn’t have agreed to mating you if I didn’t love you. Unlike some people in this relationship, I know the extent and meaning of mating.” He ended trying to tease you. But you were just smiling from ear to ear which made Dean confused. You gave him a peck on the mouth and said teasingly. “You said you love me.” He was surprised himself and had a ‘busted’ look on his face. He pulls you closer, holding you tight while teasing you down below, making you moan as roughly groaned into your ear. “Shut up and let me love you.”

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