#my mom has gone through so much just to make the rest of my dad's life as happy as possible

[kyr-kun-chan]

I knew there was something more to that break up. I was ready to hate hyeon jun if he did cheat but it turned out to be more complicated than that.

I dont know what everyone else was thinking when they saw seok ryu and hyeon jun argue but to me heon jun didnt do anything wrong. Even saying the things he said to seok ryu about her "damned depression" i can forgive him. It was a mean thing to say and seok ryu had the right to get angry but taking care of a sick person takes a toll on you. Its hard. Its frustrating. Even if you love this person so much you can get angry that you have to deal with it. You wish it wasnt like this. You want to escape and not think about it even for just one day. That's why he wanted to party. Seok ryu took that as him not caring about her but i think he did that to stay sane and forget about all the bad things for a while. But since seok ryu cant do that, she cant just forget and run away from it because she is the one dealing with it personally, she felt betrayed. I do think he shouldnt have said the things about his reputation and her dragging him down with him. That was too much. But everything else i understand.

I think he does actually still love her and has a right to love her and come find her again to win her back. And seok ryu knows this and that's why she did consider getting back with him for a moment. But it's too late because she has moved on.

[myjelllybean]

Who's the dad

This is a Evan Buckley (9-1-1) fanfiction I have finally decided to post. It is the first or second fanfiction I have written in my whole life so this is probably bad. English is not my first language so there could be a few mistakes.

I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it. If anyone has feedback, I am open for it.<3

Summary: A few months after a one-night stand leaves (Y/N) pregnant, she unexpectedly meets the baby's father at a BBQ at her dad's fire station.

The blonde guy was hot, (Y/N) had to admit. His baby blue shirt lets his eyes glow in the most perfect way.

“So why are you here today?”, (Y/N) asked. They both had a silent deal: no name’s, no prying for information.

“Hard day at work”, the man answered. “You?”

“Hard week.” (Y/N) knew she was already drunk, but she ordered another tequila. In the afternoon, she brought her kids to their grandparents, Bobby and Athena. The reason she told them: I need the evening for drinking until I don’t even know my name anymore.

She knew drinking wasn’t going to solve her problem, but it would numb her for at least one night. It would make her forget the pain.

The man nodded, but she didn’t even know what she had said before.

They drank a few drinks together until both of them saw black spots dancing in front of their eyes.

(Y/N) knew it was wrong what she wanted to do know. She wanted to kiss this man. She wanted to forget why she was here tonight. She knew exactly how wrong it would be. How disappointed everyone would look at her. But screw it. She wanted him and she wanted him now.

She leant forward and pressed a kiss on his lips. It felt so right, but so wrong. It didn’t matter. The blonde deepened the kiss. The next thing (Y/N) knew was that they were in the man’s apartment. In his bed.

___

(Y/N) did her best to hide the baby bump – but it didn’t help much. Maybe she could tell everyone she has just eaten too much when they were in Europe. She hasn’t seen anyone of her family in the last 5 months. They didn’t know she was pregnant and they are not supposed to. Half a year ago she packed her stuff and drove away with the kids.

After her husband died and she slept with this stranger, she had to leave. She wasn’t able to stay anymore. She was ashamed of herself. How was she able to sleep with someone just some hours after Henry died? They weren’t always happy but she loved him. He had been her world. Until he was gone.

“Mommy? How much longer we have to drive?” James asked from the back of the car. He was the most impatient of her kids.

“Only around half an hour then you can finally see grandpa and grandma again.”

(Y/N) heard a sigh from her son and chuckled.

“Is there going to be cake? Is grandpa going to make pasta for us?” Cameron. She and James are twins and couldn’t be more similar. Both impatient and always hungry until they ate two bites and complain about being too full to eat any more.

“I don’t know. I have never been to a party at the station.” Nobody knew they were going to come. It was going to be a surprise.

Suddenly, Emily began to cry in her seat. The two-year old always slept in the car, but when she woke up, she always had a shock and started to cry when she noticed they were driving.

“Liv, can you please give Emily her pacifier?” The 14-year-old didn’t seem to hear her mom, as she had her headphones in her ears and scrolled through TikTok’s.

“Liv! Give your sister her damn pacifier!” Finally.

After two weeks in Europe, (Y/N) was already super annoyed. She tried to keep it cool, but it wasn’t easy to be with four kids and pregnant when she didn’t have her husband around.

___

Just a few minutes later, (Y/N) parked in front of the firehouse. She had been here before. Not inside it but she had dropped off her father a few times when his car was at the car repair.

“Ok! We are here! All out of the car!” (Y/N) picked up her youngest and followed the rest of the kids inside the firehouse.

She didn’t see many people downstairs, but around 50 people were upstairs.

“(Y/N)? Hey! You’re back! Where were you in the last few months? We tried to call you but you didn’t answer. We were so worried!” Bobby literally ran to her and hugged her as tightly as possible with Emily between them. “She grew up so much”, he said, reaching out to stroke Emily’s back.

“Yes. She absolutely did.” (Y/N) could see the worried and exhausted expression on her father’s face and immediately felt sorry for not even writing him and Athena a message that she and the kids were ok.

“May I introduce you to the team?”, Bobby asked after hugging the twins and Liv, who finally put away her headphones.

The 118’s Captain led his family to a bunch of people in uniforms.

“These guys are Eddie, Chimney, Hen and Buck.” (Y/N)’s breath caught in her throat. Fuck. The super-hot guy stood in front of her. With his uniform he looked even better that in his baby blue shirt he wore the last time. Why the fuck did she still remember what this guy had worn when they met in the bar?!

“Meet (Y/N), Liv, James, Cameron and Emily.”

“Hey! Nice to meet y’all”, (Y/N) said overly friendly, trying to hide the surprise, as well as Buck did.

“Grandpa? You have cake?”, Cameron asked Bobby.

“Of course. A party without cake isn’t a party. Come on, I’ll show you all.” Bobby led the kids away from (Y/N) and the team, over to the kitchen island on which many plates of cake were standing.

“’So… you are Cap’s daughter?”, a brown-haired man asked, who (Y/N) remembered as Eddie.

“Yepp, that’s me.” (Y/N) looked at Buck who looked just as surprised, as she felt.

“So, you are Buck?”, she asked him just as a try to build a conversation. She tugged gently on her shirt, as she didn’t want Buck to notice her baby bump.

“Uhm… yes. I am. Evan Buckley. So… these are your kids? You look quite young”, Buck asked and (Y/N) furrowed her brow until she realized, they haven’t talked about ages when they spent the night together. She was quite young for already having 4 kids. She had Liv when she was 16, but she barely told people, as she always got these judging looks.

“Yes, they are.” (Y/N) stared at the ground, unable to hold eye contact with the man she had a breathtaking night.

“Father’s not in the picture?”, Eddie asked and (Y/N) could see that Buck was relieved, that his friend asked the question, so he didn’t seem too suspicious.

“Um, no. He died 5 months ago. Car accident.” Instead of staring at the ground, (Y/N) now looked at the ceiling, trying to stop the tears, which always threatened to flow freely, whenever she talked about her late husband.

When she finally managed to make eye contact with Evan, she could see pain written over his face. Her husband died 5 months ago, around the same time, she slept with him. Had he been some kind of replacement? He knew they agreed to one night – no personal information, but it still hurt to know she didn’t actually feel the tiniest bit. She only had tried to compensate everything.

---

Around 3 hours later, in which the 118 got a small call once but came back after only one and a half hour, they all sat at the big table, because it was dinner time. Most of the time, (Y/N) stood on the sidelines, as she didn’t really feel comfortable around all these people she barely knew, and Buck. Nobody seemed to have noticed the baby bump which was covered under her shirt.

And now, (Y/N) even felt nauseous and had cramps in her lower belly. Her other pregnancies had gone quite well, except the last few months with the twins, but this pregnancy was terrible. She already had to go to hospital 4 times in the last 5 months, as she couldn’t keep anything down and had been severely dehydrated.

After only 2 bites, (Y/N) had to lay down the fork because she felt like she would throw up right away if she ate only one more bite. She had already thrown up breakfast and everything she drank today. She was lucky no one noticed she hasn’t eaten a piece of cake before.  

“Are you ok?”, the brown-haired man from before asked. Eddie? (Y/N) has always been terrible with names and couldn’t remember any. It took her 2 weeks to even remember Henry’s name after she met him, something he also made fun of, even years later.

“Uh yes. Just not feeling too great today”, she answered, trying to suppress the feeling to be sick. Her throat felt tight and her stomach felt like it was twisting and turning. The cramps were still present. She knew she wasn’t having a miscarriage as she once had one, and it felt different. The symptoms were pretty much the same, but she had another feeling. She had felt like something was missing, but this here wasn’t any better.

“You sure? You don’t look too good and you haven’t eaten much. Don’t you like the food?”, her father intervened now.

“The food’s great. Really. I haven’t been feeling my best today, that’s it.”

“Do you want one of the medics to take a look at you?” Bobby really seemed worried, but his daughter waved him off.

“Dad. Don’t make more out of it than it is.” Her dad made an acknowledging sound and (Y/N) thanked him silently with a small nod.

(Y/N) fidgeted with her hands, a nervous habit, she always did when she felt uncomfortable. Today, this many people were too much. She has never liked being around many people for a long time. She felt like everyone was staring at her and making fun off her or thinking of her as a disappointment when she did something wrong. Her kids were different, except of Liv. Liv came after her mom in these things, while the others luckily came after their dad and were the most social persons in this world.

Everyone looked at (Y/N), as she suddenly stood up, because a wave of nausea waved over her. As fast as possible she went to the restrooms, but only made it to the sink, where she threw up the bit of water she had managed to drink before. She rinsed her mouth and looked in the mirror. She looked like shit. Her skin was pale and her lips dry.

The door opened, and a woman stepped inside. She was around as tall as (Y/N) was and wore a wine-red shirt, that showed she worked at the 911 dispatch center. Had she been at the dinner table before? Or has (Y/N) just not seen her?

“Oh hey. Sorry. Just needed a break from out there. Who are you? I have never seen you here before. I am Maddie by the way. Chimney’s fiancé, Buck’s sister.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. Buck’s sister?

“(Y/N). Bobby’s daughter. Nice to meet you.”

“Are you okay? You don’t look too well.” Again, this question. No, she wasn’t ok. But she didn’t say anything, so everyone should stop asking her. If she wanted someone to know she wasn’t well, she would tell.

“It’s okay. Just not feeling my best today.” Maddie nodded.

“Ok.” She didn’t pry further to get information, what (Y/N) was very thankful for.

“Soo. You are Bobby’s daughter? Athena has never mentioned, that Bobby has a daughter. She usually talks about everything.” Maddie furrowed her brow.

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders.

“He doesn’t like talking about his private life too much.”

(Y/N) went back to the table, after she was sure she wouldn’t have to throw up again. But when she arrived at the dinner table again, she felt she was dizzy. Congratulations. First, she was sick and now she was dizzy because she didn’t drink or eat enough today.

She caught Bobby’s concerned gaze as he was looking at her, before everything went black.

___

“Heyyy! Here we go. You with us again?” She felt something painful on her chest and after a few moments she realized it was someone performing sternal rub to bring her back around. (Y/N) grumbled something.

When she tried to sit up again, there was a firm hand on her shoulder that kept her laid down.

“Damn, let me sit up if I want to. I am fine.” But (Y/N) noticed on her own how hoarse she sounded from being sick.

The hand suddenly disappeared from her shoulder, but when (Y/N) sat up, the hand was back at her back to steady her and kept her from falling over. Finally, she managed to open her eyes and caught look on the brown-haired man – Eddie. Evan sat directly next to her.

“We are just going to check a few things, ok?” All (Y/N) did, was giving an acknowledging sound from her.

The next thing she felt was a pulse-oximeter being slipped on her index finger and a blood pressure cuff on the other arm. She winced when Eddie inflated it and it squeezed tightly around her arm, which made her eyes well up with tears.

She had never liked the BP reading. When she was a kid, she cried freely as it made her arm feel like needles were jabbing it.

“Sorry.” Eddie was quick to deflate the cuff again after noticing the tears in (Y/N)’s eyes but she just shook her head to show everything’s ok. “BP’s 108/70. We are going to give you something to raise it again.”

“No! Wait!” (Y/N) frantically said. “I… I…” She made a sign for Eddie to come near to her so she could whisper into his ear without anyone hearing it. “I am pregnant but no one can know yet. I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Okayyy… I think we should go somewhere more private.” (Y/N) nodded agreeing.

Despite the other’s confused looks, they made their way to the locker room. Once they were there, Eddie began talking again.

“Has this happened before?”

“Yes, I already was in hospital because of it but it is just this morning sickness. I can’t keep anything down and it makes me dehydrated.” When (Y/N) looked to her right, she could see Buck looking at them but he couldn’t hear anything, right? He wasn’t as near and it was quite loud upstairs.

“Mhm. I want to hook you up on an IV if that’s ok with you? I don’t want you to be as dehydrated as you are now and I figure you don’t want a trip to the ER?”

“Yes, if that is possible, please.”

Only a few seconds later, (Y/N) could see her dad storming into the locker room.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” He looked kind of mad but also worried.

“Ehm… It is complica…”

“She is dehydrated because she didn’t drink or eat enough. She just wants to be alone for a moment and I can give her an IV,” Eddie intervened. (Y/N) shot him a thankful gaze and a tiny smile. She liked Eddie. He was really kind. She couldn’t think of any of her friends, who would do that for her.

“Mhm. Ok. I am going to call Athena. She said she would be here earlier. I’ll come back later.”

Bobby disappeared as fast as he came into the room.

“Thanks. For not telling him.” Eddie smiled at her.

“It’s not on me. And I think there are going to be better circumstances for that talk. How far are you?”

“5 months.”

“Ah. May I ask…”, he hesitated for a moment. “Is it your late husband’s baby?”

“No.” You didn’t know for sure why you told him, but he kind of let you feel calm and safe. “We didn’t… you know… the time before he died. We argued a lot. Had a one-night stand just a few hours after he died.”

“You know the father? Were you able to call and tell him?” Eddie looked honestly interested while he put an IV bag out of the medkit.

(Y/N) shook her head before nodding.

“I haven’t seen him… until today.” Eddie looked shocked and raised his eyebrows.

“Today? Is he here? At the station?”

(Y/N) nodded guiltily and looked at the ground when she heard Eddie chuckle.

“Damn, tell me more. Who is it?”

“Buck.”

“Buck?” The firefighter looked even more shocked than before and you nodded again.

“I didn’t know his name we agreed to ‘no personal information’. Why would I know he worked at my dad’s workplace? God… when he will find out he is going to be so pissed.” Eddie shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t think so. He will understand. And hey. You don’t have to defend yourself.” She smiled at his kindness.

She watched as Eddie swabbed the alcohol pad over the back of her hand.

“I would recommend to close your eyes if you are not good with needles”, he suggested. But (Y/N) couldn’t. She needed to see what Eddie was doing, even though she wasn’t good with needles. When the firefighter pushed the needle in the back of her hand, she let out a small squeal.

“Told you to keep your eyes closed but you refused to listen.” She heard Eddie chuckle. “Do you have any other symptoms I should be worried about?”

“I have cramps”, she admitted.

“Lower belly?” (Y/N) nodded. Why couldn’t she just have been home. She would lie on the couch and relax, but instead she was here, being poked and prodded by a firefighter.

“Can I take a look?” She nodded again. Eddie pulled her shirt over her abdomen and pressed his palm on different spots. (Y/N) looked upstairs, and froze. Fuck. She forgot that Evan was still standing upstairs, looking at the locker room. Looking at her.

Her eyes widened. Why had she agreed to this? Why didn’t she insist on being ok and went home? Why was she so stupid? She wanted to slap herself for not thinking.

Eddie seemed to notice her sudden panic, the pulse-oximeter, which was still clipped to her finger, chirped in high pitched noises.

“Hey, hey. Look at me. Deep breaths. What’s up?”

“B… Buck.” The firefighter looked where she was pointing at and sucked in a deep breath.

“Ok. That’s ok. We’ll fix that, after we are finished here, ok? It’ll be ok. Don’t worry. Try to breathe with me, the baby won’t like you breathing like that.” Demonstrative, Eddie took some deep breaths. “Do you know the gender yet?”

(Y/N) could tell that Eddie was only trying to distract her but she played along.

“A�� girl. It’s a girl. Again.” She laughed. Her breathing became slower, steadier.

“That’s great. You already told your kids?”

“Mhm.”

“How did they react? Are they happy?” Eddie grinned at her.

“Y… yes. They are. James was a bit d- disappointed at first. H- he hoped he would finally get a brother t- to play soccer with.” (Y/N) smiled. “But the g- girls were all over t-the moon.”

The brown-haired man, put an oxygen mask over her face, which she tried to pull off, but his hand was immediately back, to hold the mask in place.

“Let it on, please”, he said with a look at the pulse-oximeter which was still chirping. “It’ll make it easier to breathe for you.

(Y/N) nodded, even though she hated the feeling of the mask, which made her feel the opposite of ‘easier to breathe’.

“Can I have a listen to the baby’s heartbeat?” After he had seen (Y/N) nodded again, he took the stethoscope and pressed the diaphragm to her belly.

“Looks good so far. The heartbeat is a bit fast for my liking but it’s nothing too concerning, just take some deep breaths, ok?”

“Copy, Firefighter Diaz.” (Y/N) took some deep breaths.

Just a few seconds later, someone stormed into the locker room. Buck.

“You… you are pregnant?” Buck hoped that (Y/N) would tell him it wasn’t his. That it was her husband’s.

“Yes.” She was surprised that her voice didn’t sound as high and panicking as she thought it would. She was scared. Scared of Buck’s reaction, which became even more clear, as the pulse-oximeter started to chirp frantically again.

Eddie took a look and was surprised how high the shown numbers were.

“Deep breaths”, he commanded her. But she couldn’t.

“Who’s the dad? Is it mine? Or is there a tiny chance, that it is your husband’s?” Even though (Y/N) thought something like that would come out of Buck’s mouth, she felt disappointment deep in her. She hoped he would not sound as panicked as he was now.

“Your’s.” (Y/N) fell silent, holding her breath in anticipation of what Evan would say now.

“Oh… wow. I have to admit that is a shock. Why… why didn’t you tell me? I could have been there with you.”

“I didn’t have your number, your address, your workplace. Not even your name! I didn’t even know if you lived in LA or somewhere else! What should I have done?”

Eddie put the oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, that she just put off again, but she immediately put it back to the floor. She didn’t want to breathe in the oxygen. It made her feel lightheaded and nauseous and gave her a headache.

“(Y/N)! Damn, breathe properly now the baby’s not comfortable anymore. Buck, I think you should go now and let her breathe a bit without the stress, this conversation puts on her.”

“No, he won’t go now! Not until this conversation is finished!” (Y/N) glared at Eddie. She wasn’t sure if that were the pregnancy hormones speaking out of her which have made her a bit temperamental these last few months.

“What do you want to do now? Buck? Do you have a girlfriend? Do you want to be a part in the baby’s life? Do you want to be part in MY life? I need to know it.” She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Definitely the hormones which made her act strange at the moment.

“I don’t know exactly what I want to do now. But I don’t have a girlfriend. And I want to be part of the baby’s life. I want to be their father…”

“Her. It’s a girlie. Again.” (Y/N) could see Evan smiling a bit.

“Ok. I want to be HER father and spend time with her. And I think I would like to try to go on a date… with you. If you think you are ready. I liked you the last time we met, even though that could be because I had been really drunk that night.” Buck laughed and blushed a bit.

“I think… I think we can give it a try. I don’t know if I am ready for everything. But I do know I am ready for something. And maybe that could be with you.”

“Ok… uhm… great. And now you should really try to breathe properly with that mask. I know it’s not great, but even I can recognize how high your vitals are.”

She did as she was told. (Y/N) knew she liked Buck. He was cute. She wouldn’t have imagined to see a man like him blushing when talking about a baby and dating.

“I’m nauseous.” Eddie and Buck both looked a bit worried.

“Deep breaths. I think it’s just the IV and oxygen. I put some meds in the IV that should help with the belly cramps, that could make you feel nauseous.”

(Y/N) only nodded. She suddenly felt exhausted. The adrenaline of the day started to wear of.

“I think I’m gonna drive the kids home and we are going to relax a bit while watching some tv. Thank you for everything.”

“Wait. Stop. I won’t let you drive home alone. You don’t feel good and I wouldn’t like to know you don’t have anyone with you except you kids.” She nodded again. Evan was right. It would be stupid to not have anyone around her.

“I can come with you. Just if that’s ok with you.”

“Yes. That would be great. Thanks.”

“No problem. Shall we take your car?”

“Mhm.” She was thankful. She could really imagine Buck as a boyfriend. He is great.

---

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Evan laughed. He, (Y/N) and Liv were sat on the couch, watching a firefighter show, (Y/N) and Liv had been addicted to in the last few weeks.

“It doesn’t matter! This show is great!” Liv and Evan discussed about the mistakes in the show since around 10 minutes and it made (Y/N) smile. It was like a real family. Even though it hurt her a bit that it wasn’t Henry, sitting here. But let’s be honest: Henry would have never watched a show like that.

“That doesn’t change the fact, that you don’t use the saw like that. It’s just not safe!”

“Then just do not pay attention to the details.” Now, it was Liv laughing. (Y/N) hasn’t seen her daughter that happy in the last few months. She tried to cover up her emotions but it didn’t work completely. Her eyes started to burn and she felt a pressure building up. No, she wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of Evan. Her daughter. No.

“I’ll go to toilet for a moment.” She hoped nobody would notice she was about to cry, but her voice gave it away. She sounded hoarse and her voice broke at some point.

She locked the bathroom door and sank down to the cold floor, where she curled up, leaning her back on the even colder wall. Her hand was rubbing circles over her swollen belly. Damn it.

(Y/N) knew she missed Henry. She knew her kids have missed him every second since his death. But she was scared. Scared that moving on with Evan would make her forget her late husband. She heard a gentle knock on the wooden bathroom door.

“May I come in?” Buck.

“Ok.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She attempted to brush the tears away but it really didn’t work. Her eyes were still read, as well as her cheeks.

She got up to unlock the door, for Buck to come in. After he stepped inside the room, he closed the door again. He sat down next to her, and (Y/N) leaned her head on his shoulder.

“What’s up?”, he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Nothing.” Evan shot her a look, that said more than a thousand words.

“This honestly doesn’t look like nothing.”

“I don’t want to forget Henry. And I am scared. I have never had a relationship before him. And I still have cramps. And I still don’t feel too good in general. And I am scared of giving birth alone. And I am scared of everything else in my life.” Buck looked at her with a concerned expression and immediately pulled her into a hug as (Y/N) began to cry again.

“Ok. So, we first go to hospital, because these cramps make me worried, and then we can figure everything else out, ok?” He pressed a sloppy kiss on (Y/N)’s forehead, and she nodded.

“Mhm. But you need to help me get up, the baby is in the way.”

[dyaz-stories]

an indentation in the shape of you || Cha Hyun-Su x f!Reader

summary: Hyun-Su wants to learn how to make you feel good. The two of you experiment some more.

word count: 2.8k

warnings & tags: fluff, smut, reader is afab, explicit consent, pwp, porn with feelings, fingering, dry-humping i guess?, they're both virgins and pretty awkward but they're getting better at this, all very vanilla.

first one-shot · previous one-shot

This one-shot can be read independently as there is nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts, but I do recommend reading them for context.

A/N: this is my first hyun-su one-shot without angst lol (...don't get too used to it). anyway, this is more smut, and i think it's more intense than the previous one. hyun-su is more confident in this one, and he takes charge a little more (but in other ways he's pretty subby, so do with that what you want). hope you enjoy!

There is something about watching Hyun-Su moving around in your house that warms your heart in a way you can’t quite explain. He’s seemed more confident there lately, no longer tiptoeing or stiffening around you like you could kick him out any second. It reminds you of days forever gone, when your mom used to sit at the table while doing her crosswords and your dad put music on the second he walked in through the door.

It reminds you of when this house was a home.

Right now, Hyun-Su’s fixing up a spear he’s brought here with some of your dad’s tools. It’s not his, you know that much. ‘Yi-Kyeong asked me to take care of it’, he’d said when he had set to fix it. There was something to his tone that had stopped you from asking for more, even if you think he’d have told you. He’d said her name respectfully, but with deep sadness, and you had known that there was a lot more to this story. You’d get there some day, you were sure, but not tonight.

Hyun-Su glances up at you, and you almost whip your head away to pretend you weren’t looking at him, like you’re a highschooler with a crush. Instead, you don’t even try to make it look like the long forgotten book in your lap is of any interest to you, and you give him a smile.

He stills his movements.

“Is something wrong?”

His voice is calm and deep. He sure has come a long way.

“Just like looking at you,” you answer, because it’s true, and even with all that progress, you’re not surprised when Hyun-Su looks away from you, cheeks turning red.

When he gets the courage to look back at you, though, a bashful smile illuminates his features, and you don’t think that would have happened even as recently as a few weeks ago.

“You do?”

There’s just something in the air. Something fresh and sweet and new, something that makes you bite your lower lip while you nod, suppressing the giggle that’s forming in the back of your throat. Hyun-Su’s eyes on you feel intense, and you’re not used to getting that kind of look from him. After a few seconds of that, he abandons the spear behind him to stand up and walk towards you, eyes not leaving yours for a second.

A long, intense shiver runs down your back. Under his hoodie, you can see the muscles of his shoulders moving as he walks, and fleetingly, you wonder if you’d have had a chance with him, in a world without the Apocalypse, but even that is quickly swallowed by the fact that you have him now.

He puts a hand on the back of the couch as he leans close to you to kiss you, the other coming to rest on your waist and oh, if he keeps doing things like that, you think you’ll just turn into a puddle. Your heart is fluttering, and when his hand sneaks under your t-shirt, long, cold fingers carefully caressing your skin, you think it just might fly out of your chest.

His lips move slowly against yours, and you tilt your head back as he towers over you. You feel like you’re going into overdrive from how sensual he’s being, how his tongue dances with yours as the soft sounds of the kiss fill the room. It’s not long before he’s gently pushing you onto your back on the couch, and he goes down with you, putting one knee between your legs to support himself.

And it’s all just so much. Hyun-Su’s lips, his taste on your tongue, his warm body half-covering yours, his fingers running over your ribs, and, fuck, now his knee just almost, almost pressing right where you need him to.

But this feels nice, too, and you’re not trying to initiate anything sexual just yet, so you do your best to be patient. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, and find some satisfaction in the way Hyun-Su loses his rhythm at that. Knowing that you still have that kind of effect on him, even as you’re unraveling completely under his touch, makes you just a little more confident in what you’re doing.

It isn’t long before Hyun-Su’s gotten his bearings back though, and then he kisses you with renewed passion. The kiss turns less controlled, mouth crashing against yours harder, his hand tightens on your waist— before he pulls away, panting.

“Sorry,” he says before he can catch himself, cheeks flushed.

“I didn’t mind,” you answer, but your voice is squeakier than you had intended.

“I didn’t mean to— I wanted to ask you something.”

His black eyes are wide, and as much as the blue eyes are like an electric shock running through you, you love them so much. You love how you drown in them, you love how kind they are, love that they are, truly, a window to his soul.

“What is it?” you whisper, not trusting your voice anymore.

“Just— What we did. Last time.”

No need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out, so, even if you feel blood rushing to your face, you nod.

“I wanted to, uh, return the favor. If you don’t mind.”

It’s your eyes’ turn to widen, and you push yourself onto your elbows to better read his expression. The skin of your face tingles with how burning hot it is.

“I mean I— Sure but you don’t— You don’t have to do anything—”

“I know,” he says, shaking his head. His voice is soft. “But I want to.”

You swallow, but you lay back down. You’re more nervous in this situation than you would have expected, feel vulnerable, exposed, even if you’re all clothed for now. But you trust Hyun-Su, you do, with all of your heart, and you cannot imagine a better person to have this experience with. So, slowly, you nod.

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” you whisper.

“Then can I…?”

He pulls on your shirt, but without putting any force into it. His eyes are on you, waiting for your approval — or whatever you decide to answer with.

You swallow.

“Um, yes, but could you— could you also…?”

He understands your meaning without you having finished, and acts on it faster than you would have expected, almost immediately pulling his own hoodie over his head and letting it fall to the floor. You’d noticed before that, for all his shyness over other things, he doesn’t seem to care about nudity all that much, but you’re not sure what to do with it.

For now, you can at least admire the work of art that is his body, his well-defined muscles and hard pectorals, and since he’s out in the open now, you give him a nod.

“Go ahead.”

He takes off your shirt like you’re made of porcelain, pulling it slowly and softly over your head, and taking his time so it doesn’t get caught in your hair. It is such a sweet sight, how focused he gets on the task, on making sure he’s doing right, so that he doesn’t hurt you in any way. It’s only once he’s done that his gaze lands on your body. He stills, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and you can’t help but stiffen.

It might be silly, at this point in your relationship — and when the world has literally ended outside your window — but you’re feeling self-conscious. You want to fold your arms in front of your breasts, hide your stomach and any imperfection.

“You’re beautiful,” Hyun-Su says, so obviously in awe, and the weight on your stomach is replaced by sweet, sweet butterflies. “Is it— is it okay to—”

“Touch me,” you ask instead of letting him stutter through the rest of his sentence, and he almost gasps at that, pants suddenly feeling a lot tighter.

“You shouldn’t say things like that to me,” he mumbles, bright red once again, stealing a kiss from you when you open your mouth to tease.

Then he’s kissing down your neck, and you can tell that he’s mimicking the things you did to him the last time something like this happened between the two of you. You barely have time to find that sweet, though, because soon the only thing on your mind are the open-mouthed kisses he’s pressing against your skin, and how they make you so desperate to buck your hips against he’s oh so well placed thigh.

He doesn’t linger on your neck, though, soon moving down to your chest, sneaking a hand behind your back to try and unclasp your bra — something he ends up struggling you with so much that you’re the one that eventually reaches back to get it done. He’ll have all the time to learn that kind of things later. For now, there’s something on your mind, and you don’t want to have to wait any longer.

You let him slide it down your arms, then discard it, letting it fall with the rest of your clothes.

“Can I…?”

“You still don’t have to ask.”

He hesitates for a second, before going back down to press a shy kiss under your collarbone, right where your breast starts to form. He keeps kissing his way down, hands for now cautiously staying away. Finally, he reaches your nipple, and you cannot hold back a distinct gasp when he carefully wraps his mouth around it. It turns into a full moan when he flicks his tongue against it — and you could swear you feel his mouth stretching into a grin right after that.

It’s then that he cups your other breast with his hand, and you shiver. His body may be radiating heat, but his hands are cold. They don’t stay that way for long though, not with how hot you’re running right now yourself. He starts off shy over there too, at first massaging your breast gently, before his fingers dare brush against that nipple. It’s hard already, and with his mouth on the other side, all you can do is arch into his touch, moans still falling freely from your lips.

Pleasure’s running wild in your body, each and every sensation going straight down to your core, more so when his fingers experimentally pull on your nipple. You’re dripping wet already, desperate for relief, and it’s not long before you can no longer hold yourself back and buck your hips up against his leg.

He lets go of you almost immediately, glancing down at your lower body as if he doesn’t understand what’s happening. When he looks back at you, his eyes are impossibly wide, his pupils dilated.

“Did you— Did you just—”

“Hyun-Su,” you call out in a sigh, running your fingers over the nape of his neck. “Touch me.”

For a second, his whole body tenses and he just stares at you. Then he exhales.

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath. “Fuck. Um. Then I’ll— I’ll just—” He starts fiddling with the button of your jeans, and just the anticipation of his touch where you need it the most sends pleasure rushing through you once more. This time, he manages to get them off of you without your help, and there’s another slow exhale. “You’re so— You’re so—”

Wet is the word you think he’s searching for, and he’s not wrong about that. The urge to reach down between your leg to take care of the ache you’re feeling is strong, but the desire to feel him down there is all-consuming, and so you wait for him, your breathing loud and ragged.

“Tell me, okay? Tell me what feels good to you.”

He doesn’t take off your panties, probably because he hasn’t gotten your jeans fully off, and instead just pushes them to the side. He’s cautious here too, at first barely brushing against the lips, which still makes the muscles of your thighs tense. It feels like you’ve been waiting for it for centuries when he finally inserts a long finger inside you, sliding in so easily from how dripping wet you are. Your hold on his shoulders tighten, fingers digging into his skin, and even with your lips pressed tightly together, your moan reverberates through your body.

“Good?” Hyun-Su asks, and his low voice in your ears does absolute wonders to you right now.

“You can add another one,” you say, except it’s probably more of a whine, but you can’t tell for sure, not with how much your head is buzzing right now.

Hyun-Su obeys almost immediately, and you bury your head in his neck to muffle the groan that follows. You feel so good, so full, and he hasn’t even moved yet. You let yourself adjust, before giving him more instructions.

“You can— You can spread them open and— ah!— m-move them in and— Ah!”

Hyun-Su follows your advice diligently, and soon you no longer even have the strength to hold on to him, falling down onto your back with your whole body arching into his touch, following after him if he pulls out. It’s so, so fucking good, nothing you’ve ever done on your own can compare to this and you don’t know how you’ll be able to go back after that.

You’re gasping and writhing underneath him for you don’t know how long, and you’re so, so close to the edge, but you need— You just need something more, so you push yourself back up on your elbows, something harder than you’d think, when your muscles feel like jelly, and that’s when you realize that his hips are bucking against your leg. You hadn’t paid any attention to it, but now you see how obviously hard he is, and the small, almost shy movements of his hips as he ruts against you.

“Hyun-Su,” you call — you’re no longer paying attention to how your voice is coming out —, “here—”

You grab his wrist, and even if it means he pulls his hand out, something that immediately has your walls clenching around nothing at the loss, guide him so his fingers brush against your clit.

“There,” you whisper. “You can keep, uh, keep your fingers inside and— and touch me there, too.”

He nods, pushes the fingers back inside. There are a few seconds as he figures out how to best put his hand, and then when he strokes your clit with his thumb, you almost immediately lose it. You only have the presence of mind to lift your leg up, just a little, so it presses against his hard cock.

It’s his turn to freeze and to let out a moan then, one obviously surprised out of him.

“You should feel good too,” you manage to mumble through the haze of pleasure.

“But I— I want to make you feel—”

“We can both feel good,” you answer, and Hyun-Su just cannot resist kissing you again. It’s messy, tongues clashing together without much control, but fuck, he cannot explain or control the way he feels about you.

You come just a few moments later, waves of pleasure crashing through you all at once as his thumb circles your clit, fingers deep inside you, moving at a tranquil pace that lets you feel all of his movements inside you.

When you open your eyes again, he’s above you, staring at you lovingly.

“Good?” he asks.

Better than that.

“That was incredible,” you tell him though even that feels like an understatement. You love the way he obviously preens under your compliment. “But— But what about you? Didn’t you—”

You reach out, but he grabs your wrist before you can touch him.

“I, um, I’ve already—”

He’s turning bright red again, but you understand without another word. His jeans are still on, and you haven’t even actually touched him, and yet he still came in his pants, against your thigh, while fingering you.

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel light-headed.

“Oh,” is all you can truly think to say. Then, shyly, “Want to go get cleaned up?”

“Together?” His voice is soft, questioning, but his eyes are in yours, comfortable instead of avoiding. You nod.

Later, you’re still in his arms, your back pressed against his chest, his face buried in your neck. And you, too, are comfortable.

There’s just something in the air, something fresh and sweet and familiar, and you think something you haven’t let yourself explore all that much, even if you’ve known, deep down, for a long time.

It just might be love.

and here we are! this one felt a lot smuttier to me than the previous part, but it was fun to write about this relationship in a less angsty way, too. maybe i should let them be happy a little more lol. anyway, i hope you liked it! next part probably won't be smut, but i don't know when it will be out. i have a new, time consuming internship that doesn't give me a lot of free time, so i don't know how much/when i'll have time to write. but i definitely have more stuff i want to write for this couple! so don't hesitate to comment and/or reblog to give me the motivation to write after work lol, and i'll also be answering my asks when i have time!

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, slapping, chocking, squirting, use of daddy

Wc: 5.3K

Chapter 3: Guess we're both broken

Waking up the next morning, you tossed over to the otherside, noticing the sheets were cold. Peaking through sleep coated eyes you realize that Rafe is gone. Sitting Up you look around the room, his shirt and shorts gone as well. Not surprised that he was gone, a sinking feeling is in your chest, he used you. Once again you are left knowing that you shouldn’t have thought anything else. Should have known him being on his best behavior recently was just another ploy to sleep with you, knowing that he won. 

The rest of the day was spent moping around Tannyhill, grateful that you didn’t need to see him. Sarah being the only person you see when she stops by to get some of her things before running off again to stir up trouble. The day was so uneventful that you even decided to go to your parents cookout. Which turned out as awful as you expected it to go.

Reaching your childhood home you can see your neighbors scattered around the lawn. You notice your dad on the grill talking to one of the other dad, most likely talking about what rub or glaze he used this time. Walking around you greeted a few people who stopped you to ask how work is going. “That Cameron boy is causing you any trouble is he?” If only you knew, you thought. “No he’s not. They are all really respectful to me.” In hindsight it wasn’t a lie, they have been really nice making you feel welcomed. If the past two nights hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be so apprehensive to say it, but they did happen.

Everything seemed to be going well until you reached your mom. She was talking to some of her friends when she saw you walking their way. “Well if it isn’t my precious little angel. Hardly recognize you since we never see you.” She chuckles, trying to mask the insult with laughter. Taking a deep breath you give her a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. Been trying to visit but it’s been hectic.” Saying hi to the rest of the group was met with few words, some of them not replying at all. “How much work can it really be? The young one is practically an adult herself.” Your mom has a way of making everything you do seem insignificant or an inconvenience to her, your job being one of them. 

“You’d be surprised. Wheeze is a saint but she does give me a run for my money. I should go say hi to dad before he feels left out.” With that you walked off to greet your dad. The rest of the night was a never ending cycle of your parents making small jabs at you. Making you and the rest of the party uncomfortable every time they spoke. The cherry on the cake was when they pulled off to the side just as you were about to leave. “Sweetie, we need to ask you something and before you start getting mad you need to agree to hear us out.” Your dad says sitting on the couch looking at you, your mom next to him nodding along to his words. “Okay.”

“So you see we really need to fix up the house. You know how bad the AC is, you would have better luck keeping the fridge door open then that thing working.” Oh god you can already see where this is going, eyes rolling waiting for them to ask you for money. “Don’t roll your eyes at us, we are your parents.” Your mother scolded. “Anyway.” your dad continues. “We don’t have the money to get it fixed. The mortgage is barely even being covered as it is, we just need you to spot us some money. Just enough to get us going.” Taking a deep breath and cooling your nerves. “How much?” you ask.

“4,000.” Your eyes widen at the price, that's a whole month's worth of pay, let alone you don’t have that on you right now due to helping them out. “4,000? You need me to give you 4,000 dollars? By when?” The questions shootout at them. “Yes 4,000 and we need it now preferably.” So that’s why they invited you today, not because they miss you like they claim but because they need money. “I don’t have that kind of money on me or in my account.” “What do you mean you don’t have that money? What’s the point of working for some kooks if they don’t pay you well.” Your dad scoffs turning and looking at your mom. “What did I tell you? I told you she wouldn’t help us.”

This really can’t be happening right now. You have been working since you were 14 to contribute to the bills, every paycheck going straight into their hands. “I have been helping you. I’ve been helping you for the past six years with every bill in this house.” “We never asked you to do that.” Your mother rebuttals, taking another sip from the glass of wine in her hand. “Yes you have!.” you exclaim. “You are literally asking me for 4,000 dollars as we speak. Every time you ask me for money I hand it over without making a fuss, but this I can’t do. I have my own expenses, you know.”

“What expenses? All of a sudden you live in a fancy mansion and you’re too good to help out your parents.” Your dad’s words hurt you. You have tried to be their perfect daughter your whole life. The perfect grade, the scholarship, then declining the scholarship because they begged you not to go. Every life choice you’ve made has been to cater them and their wants. “Yes, dad, my expenses. I have my own car that I pay for by myself, a car loan as well, I even have to buy my own groceries. Then on top of that I send the both of you practically all of my paychecks. I’ve been scraping by trying to make it all work, why can’t the two of you just realize I can’t do this.” Your pleas fall onto deaf ears as they both get up from the couch. “If you aren’t willing to help us then there’s nothing left to talk about. You know where the door is.”

Watching as the walk away tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The drive back to Tannyhill seemed longer than it usually did. The conversation played on repeat throughout the whole drive. Parking your car you rush to the front door, all you want to do is lay in your bed and cry. Tears are already falling from your eyes as you close the front door. “Well what do we have here, country club? This that nanny you keep hiding from me?” You recognize the voice, you’ve seen and heard him around Tanny when Rose or Ward is gone. Barry is his name you think not really caring to find out you just walk down the hall. “Not much of a talker I see.”

“Leave her alone.” Rafe’s voice makes your ears perk up. Even though every muscle in your body is telling you to keep walking and not to look at him, you cave. Eyes meeting he can see the tears in them. “You okay, sunny?” You can’t do this right now, can’t get caught up in him just for him to leave once again. Without saying a word you brush past him, bounding up the stairs to the second floor. But before you can slam your bedroom door you can hear Barry talk. “The fuck you do to her?”

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The next morning you had yourself locked in your room just thinking. First about your parents and then about Rafe, then your parents and Rafe once again. It was torture having to sit in the room replaying ever interaction to see where things went wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you about the Rafe situation but it might for your parents. 

Looking at the clock by the bed you see that it's almost one in the afternoon. Deciding that you can’t sit her a mope for the rest of your life, you get up and get ready. Ward had given you a membership to the country club when you first started, he thought it would be better since you can accompany Wheezie when she goes. A nice relaxing day at the club, eating the fancy food is just what you needed.

It didn’t take long to get there or to find a seat by the pool, most of the people are on the golf course anyway. The only people by the pool are the wives that have kids and the teens who were there for the lifeguard. Stripping from clothes you are left in the red bikini you wore, you put on some sunscreen before laying down on the lounge chair soaking up the rays. 

The sun feels nice against your skin, the heat relaxing your tense muscles finally being given a break. After about thirty minutes you flip over allowing your back to tan, not wanting to be uneven. The sound of kids laughing and the busy club lull you into a peaceful mind. So what if your parents are upset? You have done more than enough to help them out over the years, you can’t keep digging them out of their messes. Who even knows where most of the money you send them goes, it’s definitely not toward the house.

So what if Rafe is a dick who just uses girls and dumps them to the side? You can’t control who he is and clearly he just wanted to hookup nothing more. All that you can do now is just keep to yourself, it’s better to protect your peace then being his new play thing. Then why does it hurt? Shaking off the thoughts you notice how hot you started to get. 

The sun is beating down on you, sweat forming on your skin causing you to stick to the chair. Getting up you head into the pool, the cold warmer cooling you off as you float. You didn’t know this but a few feet away on the dining patio sat Rafe with Topper and Kelce. Rafe was half listening while the two boys talked about something he didn’t care about. His mind kept bringing back the picture of your crying face from last night.

As soon as Barry left he went straight to your room but the door was locked. He sat there for a second and heard nothing from the otherside of the door, assuming you went to bed he left for his room. When he woke up this morning it was all that he could think of, seeing you like that hurt him. You looked like he did after his dad made him feel less of, the thought of you feeling like that made his blood boil. But showing you he cared shows that he needs you, that he actually cares for, that’s not who he is.

No Rafe is the type of guy that fucks everything in his life up, dropped out of school, is a failure to his dad and in relationships. That's what he’s good at, you’ll see it eventually so why even try? Looking out to the course, he can see the pool from here, looking at all the bodies laying around. The red swimsuit draws his eyes down your body, recognizing you as you walk out the pool. The water drips down your stomach, down your legs, but the droplet in between your breasts has him staring. 

Rafe isn’t the only one staring, the few teen boys are staring, then there’s the lifeguard. Rafe remembers him from school and doesn’t like the fact he’s staring at you. He watches as you dry yourself off, putting the shirt and shirt you wore back on. Looking as you gather your things and escape his view as you leave, the boys gather his attention. “Dude are you even listening?” His eyes move back to them “Yeah.” 

You make your way through the halls, carding through your memory to remember how to get to the dining. As you walk, members of the club look at you, judging you for the way your shirt has wet spots from your swimsuit and hair. You decide to sit at the bar not wanting to deal with anyone today. “How can I help you m’lady.” You put the menu down to meet JJ’s gaze. “Oh my god! Jayj hi.” You squeal, catching the attention of patrons including Rafe. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Joining the darkside has really changed you.” He looks around before leaning a bit closer. “How is it on the other side? Miss us already?” He teases. “Of course I miss all of you.” You playful push his shoulder, JJ raises his hands up in surrender before resting his body weight on the bar counter arms next to yours. Rafe stares in shock at the scene playing in front of him. You, his girl, flirting with fucking Maybank of all people.

He sees JJ push a piece of hair behind your hair and you giggle. The chair scraping against the floor alerted the boys, he didn’t even realize he was even up and walking over to the two of you. “Where are you going?” Kelce calls out to him. “I’ll be right back.” As he gets closer he can hear your conversation more clearly. “You should come to the bonfire this week. I’ll make it worth your time.” JJ flirts, Rafe coming up right behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking over your shoulder you can see the look of anger on his face and the smirk painted on JJ's face. 

“Sunny! I didn’t know you were going to be here. Maybank why don’t you run along and get me another drink.” He says with a condescending tone, glaring at the blonde boy. “Rafe.” You say as a warning, already seeing how this is going to end. “What? I’m just asking the help to do his job. Right Maybank?” “I was actually helping out this beautiful customer. Ain’t that right baby?” JJ remarks getting closer to you. The look on Rafe’s face could probably kill JJ if he tried hard enough.

Rafe leans against the counter, his body facing you. “You really slumming it around with this loser? You like being around trash?” His comment made you see red.  How fucking dare he? You knew he kinda took the kook and pogue thing seriously but to call them trash. It’s like he forgets that you are also a pogue, that if it wasn’t for his father you would still be living on the cut with the rest of them. Which is true, he doesn't see you as a pogue or the help. 

To him you’re a kook, you belong with them, with him. “Yes I do. Now this trash is going to take itself out like the “help” do.” You say quoting help as a reminder that you also are the help. “I’ll see you around Jayj.” You tell the blonde looking at you with worried eyes before storming off. “Yeah see ya.” He calls out looking at Rafe for a moment. “Man I knew you were dumb but god damn. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen you do.” He laughs and walks away to go serve other customers. Rafe knows he’s right, potentially just fucked up whatever the two of you had before it actually really started. More than he has already done by ignoring you for the past day and a half.

He makes his way back to the table, the guys watching as he takes out a wad of cash and throwing it on the table. “I gotta go.” He exclaims, rushing to try and catch you before you have the chance to fully leave. Racing out of the building he sees you in the distance looking for your car. Jogging he catches up to you grabbing your arm and yanking you back to him. “Let go of of me!” You yell at him turning and pushing his chest hard. “No! Come one just talk to me.” He exclaims fighting you to make you stay and hear him out. “Are you kidding me? Talk it out? You just insulted me and my friend.” “No I insulted him. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

You scoff pulling your arm free from his grip. “So calling him trash just because he’s a pogue doesn’t insult me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m also a pogue. I came from the cut just like he does. Does that shit actually really mean something to you? Are you that fucking stupid?” Rafe’s been called stupid many times in his life, from Ward, his sisters, hell even Rose has called him stupid. He knows that he makes things difficult and not many people like him. But hearing you call him stupid fills him with more rage then seeing Maybank think he can have his girl. “Hey don’t you fucking dare. Say whatever every the fuck you want but I ain’t stupid you fucking hear me.” 

He grips your cheeks, pinching them together. “Don’t you ever call be stupid again got it?” You should be scared, you’ve seen his temper before, seen him throw shit around the house or get into a fight with people at parties. You don’t know what to do being on the receiving end of his anger, then his words ring in your ear making you angry all over again. That ache in your pants is ignored as you wrench your head out of his hand. “I don’t know what your problem is but if you put your hands on me again you’ll regret it. You think just because everyone else is scared of you that I will be too? News flash buddy I’m not.” “Don’t call me buddy.” His voice was weaker than it was when he was yelling. 

“You don’t get it.” He states turning away from you and letting you go. “You’re right I don’t. You don’t talk to me for two days completely ignoring me after you got what you wanted. Then when I’m catching up with a friend you come in guns blazing as if the world is about to end. What’s wro-“ “He was touching and flirting with you.” He cuts off your rant, stunning you into silence. “So what if he was?” Rafe’s eyes darken hearing you defend him, telling him you actually enjoyed the attention that you were getting from another guy. “So what?” He laughs differently from his normal one, darker than what you are used to.

 “You really think I want some other guy touching you? Do you fuck him too?” “You’re jealous?” You meant it as a statement but it came out more like a question. “Yeah I’m jealous. All those guys in there would give up all their money just to get a chance with you. You don’t know them like I do, they would jump at the chance to get with a beautiful girl.” This is the third time he’s insinuated you are beautiful in some way. “Well maybe I should give them a shot. You obviously” His lips crash to yours, not allowing you to finish. This is different from the other kisses you’ve shared, more intense. He’s trying to tell you he’s scared of losing you, a crazy thought considering you aren’t even his.

How can he feel so strongly for you than he already did? It’s no secret that he’s always had a thing for you but this is different. The thought of you leaving him for another person actually terrifies him. Everyone has left him and he can’t stand the thought of you being another person who walks away. You try fighting him again but all efforts die when his tongue makes its way into your mouth. Rafe has this effect on you that you can’t explain.

There was always this soft spot for him but now that the lines have muddled together it’s hard to separate your feelings. Arms wrap around his shoulder pulling the two of you closer to each other, bodies pressed together. He pulls away from you for a second allowing the two of you to catch your breaths.  “Get in the car. I’ll meet you back at the house.” Fully pulling away you straighten out your clothes that got a little skewed from making out. He goes to walk to his truck, you stop him. “You can’t just get upset like that and make a scene. If this thing between us is going to work you have to talk to me, okay?” Eyes softening looking at your expression he takes a step forward placing a kiss on your forehead. “Okay.” With that he walks away leaving you standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering what the hell just happened.

The both of you race back to Tanny, Rafe’s truck behind your car. Reaching the house, you make your way inside waiting for him to get here, you lost him at a red light on the way over. You go to the kitchen to get water, the sound of the front door opens, Rafe’s footsteps echoing through the hall. “You think you can just go around and flirt with people?” He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white polo stretching around his biceps. “I thought we talk-” “No I’m not done.” He enters the room, staring at your body with dark eyes. “Strip.”

The grip on the water bottle tightens. “What?” Rafe is now in front of you, taking the water from your hands, whipping the stray drop on your lips. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip before releasing it. “Strip and get on your knees. I need to teach you a lesson, I don’t like people thinking they can have what’s mine.” You look at him before following the instructions, staring up at him as he unbuttons his pants to take his dick out.

“Open.” You do without a second thought. “Good girl.” He mumbles, forcing himself in and setting a brutal pace. You have to catch yourself on his thighs just so you don’t fall, his hand holding you in place. Hips thrusting into you, your throat gladly accepts the intrusion, gargling on his length. Tears pooling on your bottom lashes, spilling down your cheeks, making Rafe go harder on you. “Look at you. A mess of spit and tears for my cock. Think maybank can do this for you?”

He’s still on about what happened at the club, to tell the truth you were too. His jealousy causes mixed emotions in you. On one instance you like seeing how possessive he was for you, on the other he resorts to insults to get his way. You give him a rough suck, eyes meeting his. “Fuck.” Rafe pulls out, yanking you up and bending you over the kitchen island. His body covering yours as he lines himself up, you're so wet that you aren’t worried about the pain. You were sure that he would fit, no preparation needed. “Told you I would bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.”

With that he slammed into you, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He halts when he’s ball deep, giving you a moment to gather yourself, only a moment. His thrust pushes you further into the island, sure enough to leave marks on your hip tomorrow morning. You don’t even care, he feels too good, the feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. Whimpers keep leaving your mouth. Rafe grabs your arms, using them as leverage to fuck you harder as he keeps them pinned behind you back by one hand.

“Harder.” You moan out. Your body tingling from all the pleasure he’s giving you, your peak creeping around the corner embarrassingly fast. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to fuck her faster?” The degradation goes straight to your clit, walls fluttering around his length. He goes harder for a few minutes before pulling out, a whine of protest leaving you. “You don’t get to cum yet.” Rafe’s hot breath in your ear, his body heat leaving you too. 

He turns you around and hoists you onto the island, spreading your legs to step in between them. Left hand going to guide himself back into you, gliding across your fold to get you hip and bring you closer to the edge. In this angle he hits you deep, pushing against your cervix with each thrust.

Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly just enough to have your mind all fuzzy. You roll your eyes back grasping onto his bicep, manicured nails digging into his flesh leaving crest shaped marks. Rafe hisses at the sensation enjoying the flash of pain radiating in his arm. He starts fucking you hard, pounding into you having his dick spear into your g-spot. His unoccupied hand takes hold of your hair, pulling you till your foreheads are pressed together. His watch digging into the back of your neck, chested firmly pressed to each other, sharing each breath.

 “Squeezing my dick so fucking good baby. Can you hear how bad your pussy needs it?” Rafe moans out. You can, you’re so wet that every time he fucks into you squelching fills the room. You open your mouth but a particular thrust makes you moan instead. The hand in your hair retracts, your head leaning back slightly, it comes down on your cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt but enough to have pain heat your face. You moan liking the feeling of the smack, mostly just enjoying the fact that he lost himself to the point of causing a bit of pain. 

“You like me hitting you baby?” When you moan he smacks you again, annoyed that you won’t speak. “Use your words.” Rafe’s hand cupping your jaw staring at your fucked out expression, the hand around your neck tightens as his pace increases. You’re wetness mixing with his pre-cum leaking out of you, making a mess between you two. “I like it sir.” It comes out more like a breath but it counts. “My good little girl. You gonna cum for me? Hmm cum for daddy.” The new nickname was the nail in the coffin, the tightness in your belly finally snapping.

 This feeling was a new thought. It was so intense and it didn’t feel like an orgasim that you’ve had before. Your walls squeeze rage so tight that it pushes him out of you, your release gushing out getting everything wet. “Did you just fucking squirt?” Rafe pushes his dick back in, fucking you harder than before. “Such a dirty fucking slut, squirting and getting everything wet.” Moans keep getting pulled from you, pouring out into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Oh fu-fuck… I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it.” “Inside please.” 

If telling him to cum inside you didn’t make him cum, it was the please that did it. Rafe ruts into you, hips stuttering as he fills you with each squirt of him cum. The warm feeling making you moan and flutter against him. He rides out both of your highs, hips finally stopping when they met yours, keeping you plugged. He want to stay there, wants to just feel you, wrapping his arms around your body. He’s enjoying knowing you are stuffed full of him, that his cum is so deep that it's forced out around him. Pulling out slowly you both hiss, you at the feeling of him spilling from you, and him as he’s fixated watching it come out. 

Kissing you for a moment, Rafe pulls away walking to the sink, wetting a rag before going back to clean you up. The touch is so gentle that it barely hurts. He helps you put your clothes back on dragging the both of you over to the living room. He throws himself down on the couch taking you along with him, pulling you closer . “What happened last night.” You hand playing with his shirt stops. “Huh?” Moving your head to his shoulder you look him in the eyes. “You were crying last night. What happened?” 

“Oh” Trying to shift away from him, being blocked by his arms tightening keeping you in place. “It was just some fight with my parents. It’s nothing.” “It is something, it made you cry.” You wish he would stop trying to pry, it’s not as if he cares. Honestly you expected him to flee once your clothes were back on. Pulling you to the couch was unexpected but asking you to talk about your parents was too much. Too personal. The lines of friendship and having feelings are already getting muddled as it is, this would just push it further. 

“Hey.” It’s soft, lips brushing my forehead before he places a kiss there. “You said we have to communicate, right? Talk to me.” With a sigh you tell him everything. How since you were barely able to work you gave them all your money last night. “They expected me to just hand over 4,000 dollars like it’s nothing. Then when I finally put my foot down I’m a disappointment. Nothing I do anymore is right.” Rafe’s hand rubs your arms trying to soothe you. 

“You aren’t a disappointment. If they can’t handle the fact you have your own life then fuck them.” You slap his chest lightly. “I’m serious. You’ve done more than enough for them, if they can’t see that then it’s their loss." A moment of silence, his words soaking in as you both lay there. “Thank you. I” You don’t know what else to say, fingers tracing shapes along his chest. 

“I know what you’re feeling. My dad um he always lets me know how much of a fuck up I am. I know what it’s like to be a disappointment, you don’t even come close.” The confession felt foreign on his tongue. Rafe never opened up to anyone about his feelings, anytime he tried he was met with a “man up” or “this is how a man handles things”, he’s scared of what you will say. He feels you slip from his arms, closing his eyes not wanting to see you leave him alone, trying to calm the burning behind his eyelids. 

“I don’t think you’re a failure.” Blue eye’s open to meet yours, there’s a hint of vulnerability from what you can see. You lean down pecking his lips, pulling away to get a better look of him. “You’re more than what he sees. It’s a shame he doesn’t take the time to notice.” It was your turn to leave him without words. He’s searching your eyes, your face, for any sign that you were lying. That you were pitying him after he devolved a hidden secret. He knows you’ve heard his Dad yell at him but this is different. 

He can put on a mask after talking to Ward when he has to see you. This time he tore the mask off, wanting you to see him without the facade. “I don’t think that about you.” “Huh?” You respond with confusion filling your face. “I don’t think that you’re trash. You are probably the best thing to come out of Outer Banks.” He’s not lying or at least you don’t think he is. The look in his eyes tells you that he actually means it so you smile down at him. “The best thing huh.” You tease. “Don’t push it.”

[orshii]

Highway to Cloud Nine

🏍️ Pairing: biker! Kim Hongjoong x mechanic! female reader 🏍️ Word count: 12,8 k 🏍️ Warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol use, smoking, shotgun, cheating (not by Hongjoong), angst, suggestive 🏍️Trope: Brother's best friend

🏍️ Summary: The car service you run with your brother, Jongho, is rather challenging, especially in his absence when you must manage everything on your own. Kim Hongjoong, your brother’s best friend, needs urgent repairs for his bike only complicating everything more for you, however, some tension also arises between the two of you as you notice a shift in your dynamic.

San, who is your ex, only makes everything more complicated when he reappears in your life. You’re faced with two choices now: you navigate your life the way you want it or you let the fear of disappointing your brother consume you.

🏍️ A/N: Hello there! Here I am again because suddenly I became obsessed with biker Hongjoong and I can't get over it. Nice! And I just love the brother's best friend trope. This story popped up in my mind in like 15 minutes and I don't know when I was able to write this much only in two days, lol. So yeah, I hope I managed to convert what I wanted, (sorry Sannie), and I hope you enjoy hehet! (this Hongjoong is so HOT I want to be the MC.) Byee! (divider)

The loud banging on the door coming from the garage under our flat disturbed my evening as I watched a TV show, tired of the day full of chaos. I stood up annoyed, thinking who was coming at this hour when we were closed for the day. I went to the stairs that led down to the car service we ran with my brother Jongho, who was away for a trip with his girlfriend. We named our service, Limitless and it has been almost ten years since we led this business. I grew up with cars and bikes and fell in love with fixing the machines and just admiring some expensive collections that some rich people owned. I already finished college and until I found what I wanted to do for a living, I decided I was going to help my brother out for a while as he was capable of overworking himself. I convinced him to get some rest because he needed a little break from the nonstop work in the garage. Our parents were long gone out of our lives. Our mom died and our dad was nowhere to be seen since then. We remained alone and Jongho took care of me since then. And I couldn't be more grateful for him, so this is why I told him I could manage the garage for a few days and he didn't need to worry about a thing. It was hard managing alone but I needed to do this for my beloved brother because he deserved a break.

I went downstairs as it led to the garage, the familiar smell of oil and steel hit my nose and the banging on the garage door did not stop.

"Coming!" I said annoyed by the loud noise.

I unlocked the door and saw a frustrated Kim Hongjoong standing in front of the garage. His biker helmet in his hands, his dark red hair falling onto his forehead a little wet from sweating, his undercut barely in sight. He was wearing his black leather jacket a white T-shirt under it, his pumped-up chest on the sight, paired with black skinny jeans that were ripped on the knees. As I saw it was him, I rolled my eyes annoyed, because I hated this guy. He was a walking red flag with his red hair that screamed he was a bad guy from far away. He was Jongho's best friend and he was a daily guest in our service. He always annoyed the shit out of me and he seemed he did not like me as much as I didn't like him.

"We are closed Hongjoong, what do you want?" I asked still holding the door, ready to slam it into his face.

"Where is Jongho? He didn't answer my calls." He asked running his fingers through his wet hair.

"He is on a trip with his girlfriend so don't disturb him." I deadpanned as I was ready to slam the door. But Hongjoong's hands prevented it.

"When is he coming back?" He seemed desperate.

"Tomorrow night."

"Fuck!" He shouted out loud stressed as he buried his face into his hands.

I sighed annoyed. I did not start to pity him; I was just curious. "Why?"

"Something happened with my bike and I have an important race tonight. I pushed my bike all the way here because it won't start no matter what I do. But now I'm fucked." His gaze bored into mine as he sighed.

I looked behind him, where his big dark red motorbike was standing waiting for a hand to repair it. "It doesn't get fuel?"

"I don’t know, I'm not a mechanic." He said looking over his shoulders at his beloved bike. "But I really need it for tonight."

I sighed for the thousandth time this evening. "Bring it in. I can fix it." I mumbled annoyed. Yes, I might have pitied Hongjoong, because he seemed so desperate and it seemed it was really important for him. Fixing cars—and bikes apparently—was my job and I just couldn't resist my passion, which helped me through tough times. Fixing cars helped me organize my thoughts and to even not think at all. So, I offered my help.

Hongjoong seemed quite surprised at that as he raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Come before I change my mind."

Hongjoong did as told and pushed the bike into the garage as I lifted the door up. His bike was a shade of dark red, with some black colors appearing on the sharp features, the lamp on the front was sharp and it looked like sharp eyes, which reminded me of Hongjoong’s eyes.  I prepared some tools I needed to fix the bike. As I analyzed it a little and tried to start the engine, I already knew what was the problem and it wasn't that big of a deal. The fuel just couldn't reach the engine, because a part of the engine was slacked and it didn't let the fuel flow into the engine. I felt Hongjoong's gaze on me the whole time as I crouched down next to the bike so I could repair it.

"Can I help you with something?" He asked a little embarrassed as he scratched the back of his nape.

"No, just sit and let me work." I deadpanned as I looked up at him as he was standing next to me.

So, he sat down and silence fell over us. I was curious so I asked. "So, again those illegal races? I thought you stopped."

"I need money." He stated.

"For what?"

"It's none of your business."

I scoffed as I tried to screw a clamp into its place. "Okay, big boy."

"Can you just do your work?" His voice came out frustrated.

I stopped, as I looked at him in disbelief. I couldn't believe this guy. "I'm making a favor for you, so shut the fuck up!" I started to get angry.

He laughed. "Oh sorry, princess for disturbing you." His voice sounded sarcastic and annoyed.

I really tried to stay calm, it was in both of our favor. "Don't call me a princess!"

"Don't be mad, princess." He always did this, to annoy my shit out and today was not the day when I let him do it.

So, I stopped what I did and stood up with a scoff. "You know what? Go fuck yourself and your bike. It's not my business as you told me. The door is that way." I pointed towards the door as I dropped the spanner on the dusty concrete floor and turned away to leave him there. I just lost my patience and was under pressure the whole day, he needed to step over it, because he didn’t care.

Then he grabbed my wrist and whirled me around to look into his eyes. He was hovering over me with a deadly stare, his lips in a thin line, his red hair messy. "No, you fucking get that spanner and fix my bike, because I need it!" His face was close to mine, I felt his heavy breathing on my cheeks.

"Fix it yourself, the tools are there." I pointed at the ground towards his bike.

"Stop this shitty attitude of yours, Y/N! I really need to win this race tonight, please!" He seemed like he was near dropping to his knees and begging for me.

"Oh, you can say such things as well like, please? I'm surprised" I said as I pushed him away from my face, with my hands on his chest. I needed to show him, that he couldn't just control me and to be unrespectable with me. I couldn’t let that, I fixed his beloved bike so he was going to disappear as quickly as I wanted because I did not want to see his face.

And when I finished his bike and started the engine, it lighted up and it was ready to race for whatever reason it needed to. When Hongjoong left he mumbled something that sounded like a thank you and that he was going to arrange the price with Jongho. Like my brother fixed it…

Then I went upstairs, the quiet of our flat reminding me of how tired I was from working all day. So, after a short shower, I collapsed into my bed, trying to compose myself for another tiring day without Jongho as I fell asleep finally, an annoying face with red hair popped up in my dream that turned out to be a nightmare.

It was the middle of the night when I got a call. I groaned in frustration as I hated it when I couldn't get my well-deserved beauty sleep. It was still dark outside as my room was in complete darkness, my phone on the nightstand the only light in it. I reached for my phone; I just couldn't imagine what was so important that couldn't wait until the morning. When I grabbed my phone, it lit my face and I squinted my eyes from the sudden brightness, couldn't even read who was calling me, I just answered.

"Y/N! Thank God you picked up!" Comes a familiar and annoying voice from the phone.

I looked at my phone to check the time and I grew more annoyed when I saw that Hongjoong's name was looking back at me. "Hongjoong, it's 3 in the morning what the hell do you want?"

"I know, I'm sorry. But I think I need a little help." His voice seemed a little sheepish. Like he was embarrassed for calling me—as he should be.

"What the hell happened now?"

"I crashed with my bike…I need help in carrying it away…Please, I swear I'mma pay you back, but the police can't find me, I'mma be in big trouble if they do."

I squeezed the bridge of my nose in frustration as I shot my eyes closed. "Where are you?"

He mumbled something about being next to a factory on the edge of the city and thanked me at least a thousand times. I sat up with a groan, I couldn't believe myself, why couldn't I just say no to him? I was even surprised by myself. Then I sat up in the black Jeep we bought with Jongho together, the trailer hanging from behind as I was on the way to save Hongjoong's ass, the second time in like 10 hours—he was going to pay for this for the rest of his life I'm going to make sure about it.

When I was reaching Hongjoong's location my eyes averted around the surroundings, trying to find him. It seemed it rained a few hours before because the asphalt was wet and slippery. Then suddenly he appeared in front of my car and I almost hit him, I stepped on the brakes quickly and cursed. The sight in front of me was like in the movies. Hongjoong was standing on the road, the car's lights illuminating his face, some shadows lurking on it, making his features sharper, where some blood was flowing down from his temple. His red hair was damp I assumed from the rain, it was sticking to his forehead, some red wet drops flowing down his face that came from the red dye, mixing with his blood. He was wearing blue jeans that were ripped but not intentionally as his knees were bloody as well. On top, he was wearing a colorful shirt unbuttoned and a white T-shirt under it. I saw his bike which was lying on the ground crushed. It was a miracle it didn't catch on fire.

"Shit," I mumbled to myself as I stepped out of my car.

"What the hell happened Joong?" I walked towards him, as his expression told me nothing.

"The road was a little slippery from the rain and the police came after the race ended. I needed to get away from there quickly. And this happened." He pointed at his motorbike which was nothing like a few hours before.

"Oh my God Joong…" I ran my hands through my face frustrated, the sleepiness long gone from my eyes.

"Let's just get this shit away from here." He walked towards his bike in pieces, almost mourning his beloved bike.

Then we somehow managed to lift the bike to the trailer, collecting the broken pieces from the ground, and with that I drove back to our car service with Hongjoong sitting on the passenger seat.

“Did you at least win the race?” I broke the deafening silence in the car as I looked at the road ahead.

“Of course I did.” He leaned back against the headboard and looked out the window looking sad.  

When I parked in the garage, it was already 5 in the morning. Hongjoong sighed as we both stepped out of the car and he sat on the old couch that was pushed against the wall, serving perfectly when we needed a little break from work. I closed the garage door and sat next to him, my head on the back of the couch as I closed my eyes with a sigh.

"Don't tell anything to your brother, please." I heard Hongjoong's tired voice from my side. "He is going to fucking kill me."

"I bet," I said with my eyes still closed. Then silence and I opened my eyes to look at Hongjoong whose eyes were already on me. His eyes were sharp and looked at me a little angry.

"Okay, I won't tell him anything." I lifted my hands giving up. "But what about the bike?"

He sighed as he leaned forward supporting his head on his arms. "I have no fucking idea." He buried his face into his hands, he seemed a little panicked. I just looked at his figure that seemed lost and little now, and there it was again. The feeling I hated so much. I just wanted to help him again, and I truly hated this feeling.

"I can't believe myself," I mumbled to myself as I sighed. Hongjoong looked up at me with a confused look. "Jongho is coming back tomorrow night…I guess we can fix that shit until he arrives."

I had never seen Hongjoong this surprised as his eyebrows disappeared from how high they were. "Seriously?"

"Yes, but I'm gonna need your help too."

He set up straight as he turned towards me on the couch. "I'm here, whatever you need, princess." He smirked as he leaned closer to me. I rolled my eyes and stood up waking to a cabinet where we held the first-aid kit.

"But first put yourself together, because you look like shit." I threw the box towards him and he caught it immediately, looking down at it with a frown as he opened it. He looked up at me with child-like eyes. Then I looked at him with my eyebrows furrowed.

"You are seriously like a child," I stated as I sat next to him growing more annoyed as he just didn't know what to do with the thing, I just gave him.

Kim Hongjoong then pouted—I say it again pouted at me—as I grabbed the box from his hands and took the cotton from it with the alcoholic liquid—at least this is going to hurt. His face was full of blood strings that flew from the wound on his temple, his lips were also cut somehow just like his right cheek. I reached the cotton with the liquid towards his temple, where a serious-looking wound was. "Did you drive without your helmet or how did you manage to do this?" He hissed when the cotton touched his temple.

"Nah, the visor of my helmet broke when I crashed and it cut me. I didn't even notice…" He mumbled as he grabbed my wrist, trying to prevent me from touching the cotton to his skin again.

"Stop, it's going to infect you if you won't let me do it," I stated as Hongjoong was looking at my concentrating face from close. Then his lips were the next, the bottom of it cut as the blood was already dry. He parted his thin lips when I traced the cotton slowly on his lips. He hissed at that again but grabbed my waist squeezing it as the liquid stung his lip. I looked up into his eyes and I saw something unusual of Hongjoong. It was something like caring and something I couldn't recognize. I couldn’t read much into it, because he came back to his senses and let my waist as he took the cotton from my hand and started to trace the cotton on his face looking at the little mirror from the box. I was stunned for a moment; I couldn’t process what just happened but I just let it go. It was Kim Hongjoong after all, and he made my next day miserable.

We didn't even sleep as we worked from there, trying to put the puzzles of the motorbike together. It seemed like a mission impossible; the bike was almost a dead duck. But there wasn't something I couldn’t fix, at least if it came to fixing machines. Fixing my problems, however, was beyond my capability. Just as the next problem came in line. We managed to put the pieces of the bike together somehow, working on it without stopping, only when we were too hungry to even lift something. But the engine was completely gone. And it needed a replacement. Was there anywhere you could find a brand-new engine in just a few hours? 

Sadly, there was. And it was my ex-boyfriend's workshop, where he sold parts of motorbikes and cars. He was my only way of finding a new engine in a few hours, for this specific motorbike and it sounded like the worst of my nightmares. Asking for a favor from my ex whom I broke up with six months ago was shit. I didn’t want to do it, but it was already midday and Jongho was coming back at night.

My ex-boyfriend was Choi San. We were in a happy relationship, we really did. I thought we were going to be together for good. I already imagined my life with him, marrying him and having kids. I loved him, truly. But six months ago, it turned out he cheated on me. And it hurt. It broke me, I didn't even recognize myself back then. My worst nightmare came to life, which was not knowing San by my side anymore. He was the pillar I needed in my life to keep going. But when that pillar collapses into ashes, what was the reason to keep going with life?

I even considered letting it go and just forgetting about what happened and letting San come back to me because I didn't want him out of my life. But my brother was by my side the whole time and helped me through it, he hit some sanity into me—not literally—and talked me off of going back to him. San was Jongho's best friend. It was difficult for him too, having to choose between us, but he chose me. I knew Jongho was hurt by losing a friend, especially since he had warned me from the start that he didn't want to be forced to pick sides if we ever fought. In the end, he had to, and I felt guilty about it. I never imagined that San and I might break up one day. 

He didn't even have a normal explanation. He just said it happened he was drunk and he can't go back in time to undo it. It was so disappointing hearing those words from him and more heartbreaking when I broke up with him but still loved him. It was already six months ago but I couldn't state that I didn't love him anymore. So, this was the reason it was hard for me to call him. But it needed to be done.

"It's Choi San's workshop, what can I do for you?" I heard his voice and I hoped it wouldn't make me feel anything, but it certainly made my heart beat faster. I was leaning against the receptionist's table in the garage, and Hongjoong sitting on the couch as he was smoking a cigarette.

"Hey, San. I'm Y/N. I need a favor from you." I said to the phone without any emotions.

"Oh, Y/N, hi. It's a surprise hearing from you." His voice was low and sweet like the San I knew from the beginning. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, I just need a favor it's important."

"Okay…what can I help you with?"

"I need a Honda CBR engine as soon as possible," I stated.

"How much is as soon as possible?"

"Like…right now?"

"Mhmm…" He hummed at that. "I don't know babe, what are you going to give me in exchange?"

My heart was beating faster as I grew angrier. "Money? What else could I give you San? Please don't make it harder, I just want to do business with you nothing else."

I saw as Hongjoong snapped his head up as he was still smoking his cigarette. I just averted my gaze from him as I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, okay relax babe. I'mma need at least an hour to bring it to you." San said through the phone as I ignored him calling me like that on purpose, I just wanted to get over it as soon as possible but I felt a little scared because of seeing him again after a long time.

"Thank you," I said before ending the call abruptly.

"The new engine is gonna be here in an hour. I think we can fix it until Jongho arrives." I said looking at Hongjoong a little frustrated from the call.

Hongjoong just nodded and he just stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, but I saw on his face something was bothering him.

One hour later as promised San came into the garage with the engine on his blue truck. "It's good to see you, Y/N." He welcomed me sweetly as he walked to the rear of the car and opened the door so we could lift the engine off. I hated seeing him but it made my stomach twist without me wanting it. He hadn't really changed since I last saw him, his hair was still black, his muscles were still pumped, and he was wearing a black sleeveless top paired with beige oversized pants and his working black gloves. He was the same yet, everything changed between us.

Hongjoong helped him lift the engine out of the car, and together they carried it into the garage. As they stood next to the bike, Hongjoong and San made small talk about what had happened to it. They knew each other well—we were all part of the same friend group—but San had stopped showing up when we invited him, for obvious reasons. Hongjoong was the only one who still kept in touch with him. Watching them chat, I couldn’t help but think, What the hell? We don’t have time for chit-chat. 

"Okay, we don't have time for chatting, thank you San I'm going to send you the money." I stood in front of them folding my arms as they both looked at me surprised, I was there.

"Chill, babe I was just curious about what happened to Hongjoong." San walked closer to me and placed his hands on my waist, leaving a sweet kiss on my cheeks. I hated him so much; I could've punched him in the face. "You look good, Y/N, I hope to see you again." He whispered into my ears as goosebumps ran through my body, but it was because of the disgust I felt towards him. Yet, I couldn't do anything just stand there and let him kiss me and brush my cheeks after. I wanted to throw up. Then for my luck, he disappeared after shaking hands with Hongjoong.

I was just standing there a little stunned. I hated myself for letting him crawl into my head again. I hated him for behaving like nothing bad happened between us. And I hated Hongjoong for witnessing all of that.

"Is he still bothering you?" Hongjoong asked sheepishly as he looked at me.

"It's none of your business, yeah? Let's finish this up, 'cause I'm tired." I started without any emotions. Hongjoong was the last person I wanted to talk to about my feelings towards San. Everyone knew the story of ours, but the details were a mystery for everyone. He had secrets. So, did I.

With that, we worked all day to somehow put that engine in its place, without saying any words to each other, because I just wanted to finish this and be alone a little. I started to feel overwhelmed and the only solution for this was being alone on my own and somehow organizing my thoughts, or letting them drown me. It was whatever.

Then we finally finished and I collapsed on the couch when we heard the bike's engine fire alive. I was kind of proud of myself, I never really fixed motorbikes, my knowledge stopped at cars but I assumed they were similar so I had no problem in doing it.

"Thank you so much Y/N," Hongjoong said as he was sitting on his bike the helmet on already, a few strings of his red hair falling onto his forehead. "I really own you one…or two. I'mma pay you back I promise." He said as he closed the visor on his helmet. I just couldn’t say anything as I just watched him rolling out of the garage, the sound of the bike hearable even when he was long gone. The tiredness hit me at that moment as I was barely capable of going upstairs after closing the garage and collapsed into my soft bed like somebody just knocked me out.

Jongho returned and I was so glad to know him by my side again. Managing Limitless without him was tough but I knew I would do it again if it meant him resting a little. And I thought it was time for a little partying for myself as well after this tiring week. My best friend called me and told me her boyfriend, Seonghwa was holding a party at his house, as the end of summer was near. So, I accepted the invitation gladly because I really needed a break from everything.

I quickly got ready for the party, dressed up in my black leather jacket a white top under it, with a black skirt and black boots, along with some silver accessories and I made a black eyeshadow as makeup. I was quite satisfied with my appearance when I heard a honk coming from my best friend's car, as he said she was going to pick me up so I could drink.

When we arrived at Seonghwa's house, it was already full of people that I knew from college or from Limitless as the majority of the city came to us to repair their machines. It was great for our finances, which we definitely needed. We were heading straight to the drinks as we walked through the people somehow the music throbbing loudly in my heart, almost deafening. The living room was lit with different colors, making the dancing people disappear into the mixture of colors.

After pouring some drinks for ourselves we walked back to the backyard, where our friends were sitting. They were sitting next to a table with only a few seats available. Everyone was there, my brother, and his girlfriend who was sitting next to him leaning on his shoulder. Seonghwa, my best friend's boyfriend as she sat straight into his lap without thinking. And there was Wooyoung, my other best friend who was a goofy person, we always bickered or made fun of the others together. Then there was Mingi and Yunho, the boyfriends as they had been together for almost five years. I always envied their relationship because it was so honest and just looking at them made my heart beat with happiness. They beamed happiness all the time. And there was Hongjoong, wearing his usual biker jacket, his red hair now pulled back a few strings on his forehead only. Our eyes met and I quickly averted my eyes off him as I sat next to Wooyoung hugging him comfortably.

We haven’t met with Hongjoong since I fixed his bike, he just sent me the money for the service and the engine and that was all. I wondered if he told Jongho what happened.

Then lastly San was the only one who was missing from our friend circle and yes it was my fault, I did feel guilty, but it wasn't only my fault. He played a part in it as well, everyone started to hate him after what he did with me. They wanted to apologize to San, and they waited for an apology from him as well, but he simply never showed up when they invited him and slowly, they just let him go.

As the night got deeper and chillier, a lot of drinks came to our table as well, and we just chatted with the others, not bothering to dance inside. The host was with us the whole time as well, not even caring what was happening inside his house. It was a habit of ours as we went to house parties. We just needed a table to sit at and a few drinks and the night was gone with us having fun and bickering around. The alcohol slowly started to get up into my mind and I started to feel a little drunk, but it was a good drunk. I just felt happy being around my friends.

When we got bored of sitting in one place everyone seemed to disappear. The couples needed their own time as well—disgusting—and I found myself on the backyard bench alone as I looked up at the sky, where the moon was shining back at me in its full form in a shade of light blue. It was mesmerizing, I could look up at it for hours as I sipped from my drink occasionally, my legs pulled up to my chest. I didn't even notice how much time passed by as I was wandering around my thoughts when someone sat next to me. I looked to my side when I saw Hongjoong sitting next to me, the last person I was thinking about. Then I just ignored him and sipped from my drink looking up at the sky again. His gaze followed mine.

"The moon looks beautiful tonight." He started looking up at the sky.

"I know," I mumbled a little annoyed.

Then he didn't say anything and just pulled out his cigarette from his pocket and lit one up. He reached the pack towards me offering me one as I shook my head. He just shrugged and pocketed the rest of the cigarettes with the lighter. He leaned back on the bench and sighed as I looked at him, his eyes were closed facing the sky. The moon lit up his features, the shadows lurking on his face, making it look more intimidating, sharper. His eyelashes touched his face, the cigarette between his thin lips as he inhaled it, then exhaled it and it into the chilly air, as it flew up towards the blue moon.

"What are you doing here by yourself?" He broke the silence as he opened his eyes and met mine that were already on him. I quickly narrowed my gaze away from him as I got caught.

I just shrugged. "Drinking, thinking about life."

"What are you drinking?" He asked taking the alcohol from my hands as he sipped from it without my permission. He squinted at the taste of it as I watched him struggle. "Ew, how can you drink this?" He handed back the glass.

"It's like water for me, dude," I said sipping from it again.

I saw as he furrowed his brows. "Dude?" He gasped as he acted surprised his hands on his heart.

"So, we are friends now?" He asked.

"No, dude, we are not."

"What a shame, you have no idea what you're missing out on," he said with a slight giggle. He seemed drunk too. 

"Trust me I do know." I looked at him with a knowing smile. "Is your bike working still?" I asked him curious.

"Yes, it's better than before. I won already a few races with it." He said proudly. It was obvious how passionate he was about his bike and racing.

 "Why do you race?” I asked suddenly.

"I fell in love with bikes a long time ago, and when I discovered racing, I just couldn’t stop. Also, I need the money too.” He said his gaze on his hands.

"Will you tell me why? Or it’s still not my business?” I looked at him tilting my head.

His gaze remained averted as he said sincerely, “My mom needs it. The company she worked for let her go due to having too many employees. I want to support her until she finds a new job."

"That's really kind of you," I said sincerely. I would never have guessed that he needed the money for such reasons, rather than trouble with the law or something like that.

He just nodded as a comfortable silence fell on us. That I would've never imagined besides Kim Hongjoong.

"Do you want to shotgun?" He broke the silence again as I looked at him frowning. He seemed serious with his unserious question.

"Yeah, why not?" I answered and it surprised the both of us. I was just drunk and I was curious how his lips felt against mine.

Hongjoong chuckled at that, not waiting for agreement as an answer. He studied me thoughtfully, as if unsure whether I was serious. "Are you scared or something?" I teased, raising my eyebrows. 

"Not at all." Then I watched as he reached the cigarette between his fingers to his lips that slightly parted and inhaled the toxic smoke deeply, as it went straight into his lungs. Then he quickly leaned forward and cupped one side of my face under my jaw as his lips were almost touching mine. My heart rate was as high as the sky as I looked straight into his eyes when the smoke came out from his lips as he exhaled it straight into my parted mouth, his lips brushing against mine slightly.

At that moment I felt like my heart might just stop. Might just say “Hello I'm moving out because I can't handle this guy.” Something was weird in my chest, something that I couldn't name, couldn't compare. The smoke was long gone as I inhaled it deeply into my lungs as it disappeared there. But Hongjoong did not pull away and neither did I. We were just frozen as we were still looking into each other's eyes like we were locked there into a framed picture. Then Hongjoong's eyes narrowed from my eyes to my still parted lips as I breathed out, a barely visible smoke coming out. I saw in his eyes he was thinking about his next move a lot as he tried to close the distance between our lips and I just couldn't insist. Just until this weird bubble of ours exploded.

"Hongjoong." I heard a familiar voice coming from Hongjoong's side. It was my brother and I just wanted to dig myself deep into the soil. I wanted to be anywhere but there at that moment. Jongho approached us with a smile, his focus solely on Hongjoong. "Oh, you're not alone—sorry for interrupting," he said, lifting his hands in a gesture of apology. But as he took in the scene, he noticed me sitting next to Hongjoong. His expression shifted as he recognized me, his sister who had already played this game with him. I felt ashamed. Embarrassed. Jongho's smile just vanished, like it was never there. "You've got to be kidding me." He scoffed and then turned away from us walking towards the house madly.

"Fuck," I said standing up from the bench, where a frustrated Hongjoong was still sitting like he didn't know what to do.

"Go tell him that there's nothing between us and nothing ever will be," Hongjoong said his voice going quiet at the end. I won't say it didn't hurt. It did, but it was nothing compared to what I felt because of Jongho. Because he was disappointed in me again. My plan was not to make his life harder than it is. But I always failed and failed.

I chased after him, stumbling through a sea of unfamiliar and familiar faces, desperately trying to locate Jongho in the crowd. I felt like I was in a dark and all-the-time-changing maze. Then I went out the front door and I just saw Jongho heading towards his car.

"Jongho!" I screamed his name to stop. He did not stop.

"Jongho, please hear me out! It's not what it looks like!" I shouted after him, my voice breaking slightly.

Then he stopped in his tracks and turned around to face me with a furious expression his brows furrowed. "Don't tell me it's nothing when you just can't do other things than fucking with my best friends. So, when they are going to break your heart, I have to fucking choose between you or them. I'm sick. I'm sick of your games, Y/N.

I thought after San you learned your lesson, but I guess you are just into this shit of getting together with my best friends so in the end they are going to fucking disappear from my life for good after breaking your heart. I had enough of this shit. I won't repeat this scenario again…" Meanwhile, he spoke I was just frozen in place as tears rolled down my cheeks. I wanted to say a lot of things to him, to scream at him, Hongjoong meant nothing to me. But words just couldn't leave my mouth they were stuck in there, almost not letting me breathe.

"There's…there's nothing between Hongjoong and I, Jongho. I swear to God there's nothing." My voice came out weak as I somehow managed to let those words out that hurt like hell but history simply just couldn’t repeat itself.

He just looked at me like he couldn't believe me anymore but seemed like he accepted it for now. "Let's just go home." He sighed as he said.

I just nodded and sat in the back seat of his car as Jongho went back to get his girlfriend as well. The way home was silent as the only noise was the night radio that was playing some romantic melodies and my eyes averted in front where Jongho was holding his girlfriend's hands on the gear stick as they looked at each other sweetly for a moment. A few tears just flew down my cheeks because I thought I was never going to experience love that is not only one-sided. Love that is on the same level as mine. A partner in crime who calms you down in this cruel world. Love, love, love. I couldn't believe in experiencing true love for the rest of my life. I just simply gave up and signed up for the dark side.

            Since that night, Jongho's behavior wasn’t the same. He was cold and barely talked to me. I couldn't blame him, because I truly deserved the silent treatment. Hongjoong did the same. He hadn't even come to Limitless since then and pretended like he wasn't about to kiss me that night. It was shit and I just wanted to forget it. Everything was good a few weeks ago. But Hongjoong needed to appear at my door to help him, then I needed to call my ex-boyfriend.

It seemed he took it as a sign that I might let him back. Because he was constantly annoying me, calling me at night drunk and telling me he was still loving me and shit. If he would've said this four months ago, I would've let him come back to me without any thought. But now it was different and I didn't even want to hear from him. Yes, I was scared a few weeks ago when I called him, because I was terrified, I might feel something for him still. I have to admit perhaps a part of me will always love him, it's the curse of a first love. But talking to him and even meeting with him, kind of led me to the conclusion that I was ready to let him go for good. It was for the better.

I was in the garage, sweeping the dusty concrete floor, ready to close Limitless for the night, when I heard a car's engine sound that stopped, then a knock on the garage door. I sighed again as I was the only one home for the night. I opened the door and I saw Choi San standing in the door with a flower bucket in his hands.

"San?" I was so confused, what the hell did he want from me?

"Hey, babe, brought you some flowers." He said casually leaving the flowers in my hands, as he stepped closer to me pecking my cheeks and letting himself inside. I was just too stunned by his actions; I scoffed in disbelief turning towards him where he plopped down on the couch.

"San what are you doing?"

"I came to see you. Is that a problem?" He asked like there wasn't a single problem with it.

"Yes! It is, what the hell are you thinking right now? I called you to do me a favor and now we are back together? Are you delusional?" I asked him getting more and more angry as I threw the flowers from my hands at the floor.

He looked down at the flowers and he seemed hurt at that. He stood up and started to walk slowly towards me. His expression changed entirely; it became serious like no one was allowed to speak to him like that. "I know you still love me, Y/N." His fingertips traced through my cheeks, looking almost psychotically at me.

"No, I don't love you anymore! Just get the fuck out of here I don't want to see you San!" My voice raised as I pointed towards the door putting a little distance between us.

He tilted his head to the side still looking at me. He looked like a tiger that was going to hunt you down in a blink of an eye. He started to step closer to me as I stepped back. We played this game until I was pushed against the wall, his broad figure hovering over me. That was the moment I felt terrified. I was caged in between his arms; I had no way out of there.

"Stop lying to yourself and come back to me, babe." His fingertips were tracing down my neck, then up to my lips, my cheeks, like I was an art in a museum and I was allowed to be touched. My body started to tremble.

"San, please just go away!" I sounded desperate like I would've done anything for him to leave.

"What if I don’t want to, my love?" He smiled at me with an evil smile I just couldn't think anymore.

"Get your hands off her, San!" A familiar voice came from behind San when all I saw was him being dragged away from me, as I finally was able to breathe. I saw Hongjoong's figure as he held San by the collar of his shirt. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Hongjoong hissed through his teeth.

"It's none of your fucking business, Hongjoong. What? Did you two fuck? Does Jongho know?" San sneered his only intent to provoke. The words struck a nerve in Hongjoong, and before I knew it, he landed a punch squarely on San's face, nearly knocking him to the ground.

"Fuck you, San. You're a fucking nobody. Why can't you just leave Y/N alone? Hasn't she suffered enough because of you?" Hongjoong spat, pointing at me as if I were just an object, devoid of emotions. But his words hit home, and I was taken aback by how much he seemed to understand my feelings. 

San just spat blood on the floor as he lurked forward and sent Hongjoong to the floor and he started to punch him. But Hongjoong was quick and prevented San from hitting him more in the face and quickly turned them around, so now Hongjoong was on top, hitting San in the face with his full power. "You fucking bastard, Jongho trusted you but you betrayed him. What is wrong with you? I don't recognize you anymore." Hongjoong mumbled in between hitting San, then he just held down San's arms strongly and looked down at him with a furious expression. Then San taking advantage of this, tried to hit Hongjoong again, but he dodged quickly.

"You guys left me alone, I knew I wasn't welcomed there, so I didn't go." San gritted through his bloody teeth as he dodged one of Hongjoong's hits.

 I knew the fight wasn't just about me. They were friends as well, but San became so arrogant everyone started to leave him.

Along the way, everything happened so quickly I couldn't react in time. When I realized what was happening, I went next to them and yelled as much as I could. "Stop fighting for fuck's sake!" I pleaded. "Please, Hongjoong…" My voice became softer as I placed a hand on his shoulder. His fist hung in the air, but he froze, glancing up at me. The skin around his left eye was already reddening, a cut had opened on his right brow, and blood began to trickle down, matching the wound on his lower lip. I just couldn’t look at San's face because I knew he was covered in blood just like Hongjoong's fist that was full of San's blood.

Hongjoong stood up and lifted San. "Get the fuck out of here and I don't want to hear from you again!" Hongjoong stated to his once best friend as San just left without any words, but I saw in his face a burning desire for revenge in his eyes. And I knew it wasn't the last time we saw him.

"Are you okay?" Hongjoong then suddenly cupped my face, his sweet scent embracing me. My body was still shaking, I just couldn't believe that was the man I loved so deeply. San showed a new side of him and I just couldn't recognize him anymore.

I breathed out slowly as I closed my eyes for a second, taking in the warmth of Hongjoong's hands. "Yeah…" I whispered as I held his hands to push him away. I walked to the closet again, like we were at the beginning, and took the first aid kit. Hongjoong was just looking at me the whole time and when I signaled him to sit down on the couch, he obeyed without a word. He leaned down on the way to take his black cap from the ground that he lost between fighting with San, he wore the cap backward, pushing his red hair back from his forehead. He was wearing a black and white T-shirt with grey sweatpants and white sneakers. He sat down and I followed him as I opened the box. History repeats itself.

We were quiet the whole time as I traced the cotton with the liquid on his eyebrows as he just stared into my eyes the whole time not even hissing from the pain. Then I went down to his thin rosy lips the blood already dried.

"You always take such good care of me..." Hongjoong whispered, his gaze locked on mine, his red hair damp and clinging to his forehead.

"Because you need to be taken care of. You're like a child," I teased, a small smile forming on my lips as he pouted slightly in response. 

Then I looked down at his hands and lifted it between us as I traced the cotton on his bloody knuckles as well. The air between us was thick and the tension was growing higher and higher.      

Hongjoong looked down at our hands and without any thought he took the cotton from my hands, putting it down, then his hands traveled to my waist and lifted me to straddle his lap. My body felt hot and as I looked into his eyes, I felt woozy like I was drunk suddenly. I couldn't think clearly, my hands were on his shoulders and the eye contact was so deep I found myself in Hongjoong's mind and him in mine. Then I bit my lips because I felt so nervous I felt like it was the first time someone ever touched me. His eyes averted to my lips then his hands on my waist that pulled me closer to him left burning flames behind, making my body catch on fire from the sudden desire I felt. Then he leaned his forehead against mine as we both breathed heavily. Both our desires were blocked by an important reason. We both closed our eyes taking the other's presence in.

"We can't do this Joong," I whispered as my lips almost brushed his.

"I know," His lips were even closer as he almost whispered it into my mouth.

We breathed heavily against each other's lips, our chests moving in synchrony, our eyes taking in the other as we both saw the burning desire in each other's eyes. I fought so hard against this feeling, and so did Hongjoong. But…

"Fuck it!" He said as his lips crashed against mine suddenly and the air from my lungs was suddenly knocked out as I started to move my lips against his. It was rushed, harsh, teeth and tongue tangling with each other, as his hands traveled down my thighs, tracing them slowly as they went back to my ass, as he pushed me closer to himself.

My breath caught in my throat as he groaned, sinking his teeth into my already bruised lips from the rough kisses. My sanity just left my body and I gave in to the desire I felt towards him. But then…something hit me in the gut a feeling that was called guilt. And I pushed Hongjoong away my hands on his chest.

"Let's stop, please. I can't do this." Suddenly my eyes watered from the emotions that were bombarding my already breaking walls. I knew I wanted him, but I just couldn’t. The thought of seeing the disappointment in Jongho's eyes again held me back.

"Y/N…" He whispered as he leaned his head against mine.

"No, Hongjoong. I don't want to run through the same road once again…" I said as I stood up from his lap, it felt like I left a part of me with him.

He stood up too and took my hands into his. "I want you, Y/N. You have no idea how much..." His voice seemed desperate and honest.

"You were the one who told me to tell Jongho that there's nothing between us and never will be," I said, pulling my hands away from his. "And you were right—there is nothing, and there never will be. We both knew it; we just didn’t want to admit it." 

"Jongho would understand it." Hongjoong seemed hopeful, but I long lost my hope along the way.

"No, he wouldn't. He is just afraid he might lose another friend because of me. And he is right. It might be that just desire speaks from you…" I looked down at my hands, not daring to look into his sharp eyes that changed all of a sudden.

"How the hell do you know what I feel when I didn't even have the chance to tell you?" Hongjoong stepped closer to me and lifted my head holding my chin. "Look at me and tell me you don't feel anything towards me and I'm walking out of that door." He stated as my eyes locked with his. I wanted to cry so bad, he couldn't say that, he couldn't just tell me to choose between him and my brother. I just looked at him as my eyes watered.

"Or do you still love that fucker who hurt you?" His expression turned furious as his fingers around my chin tightened.

I simply couldn't say anything, I tried, I tried to say anything, to say no I hated San with my whole heart, and yes, I felt something whenever I looked at him. I felt my stomach twist and like my heart wanted to stop all the time. But I just couldn't say anything, I went silent as he read my eyes that probably didn't say the things that I wanted to tell him, because he scoffed, his eyes dark with fury as he looked into mine one last time. "You're a fucking coward." Then, he turned and slammed the door shut.

Those words pierced right into my heart, reopening the cracks that had just begun to heal. My heart shattered again into pieces of hopelessness because he was right. I was a coward.

I felt like I was a robot that was programmed to do some things. My feelings were long gone and I wasn't myself these past days. Jongho was still kind of ignoring me, we were working together but the communication was shallow between us. Hongjoong was in the garage a lot recently. It turned out he was working in the garage, helping for Jongho, so I didn't have to help that much. It seemed like they both wanted to close me out and it hurt. So much I couldn't even think. Hongjoong didn't even look at me whenever I was in the garage like I didn't even exist. So, I just let it go, I figured they didn't need me in their life as their friendship was so much more important than me. I accepted it, I let them be and I started to deal with my own problems. For example, studying. My dream was always to be a doctor after my mother died from a cruel disease. But as our father left us, Limitless was left for us to handle. So, I left my dreams behind and started to work in the garage. Working on cars is a lot like being a doctor. As a car mechanic, I diagnose and fix problems with vehicles, much like a doctor diagnosing and treating diseases. It's about diagnosing the issue, repairing the damage, and putting everything back together. 

I started to go to a class that trained nurses. I had to start somewhere and I liked it. Jongho didn't even know about it. I started to question his behavior. We didn't even speak with Hongjoong yet he still closed me out like I wasn't even his beloved sister.

Weeks later I had enough of Jongho ignoring me so I had to speak with him. I went downstairs on a Friday night when I saw Jongho and Hongjoong fixing a black Maserati, that was lifted to the air.

I approached them. "Jongho, can we talk?" He looked surprised by the voice coming from behind. He was wearing a blue overall, his chubby cheeks a little smashed with oil. Then I narrowed my eyes at Hongjoong who was wearing the same blue overall with a black T-shirt, his face full of black patches, the usual black cap on his head turned backward.

"Yeah, give me five minutes." His hands were behind the car's tire as he was searching for something behind.

I just nodded and sat on the couch to wait for him. I just wanted to tell him that to stop this childish behavior because I won't steal his best friend, and it was supposed to be clear for now.

As I was sitting on the couch lost in my thoughts, I felt as if someone had come into the garage. I lifted my head and it was San. My heart started to beat fast as my body shivered remembering the last time I saw San. His face seemed normal; it didn't seem like he came to get some revenge because of what happened. His face screamed that he felt guilty about it.

"Y/N, can we talk?" He asked as he didn't even dare to come close to me.

Two heads peeped out under the car hearing the voice of someone. When Hongjoong saw who was it, he quickly swooped forward and pushed San against the wall grabbing the collar of his shirt. "How the fuck do you dare to come back here?" He hissed through his teeth his face close to San's.

"Fuck off you dog!" San pushed him away by the chest. Then I quickly slipped between them facing San.

"What do you want San?" My voice came out straightforward not even trembling for a second.

"I want to talk to you and apologize, please Y/N." His eyes were soft and he seemed desperate.

"What the hell is happening here?" Jongho's voice came from behind as he wiped his hands with a used cloth.

San's gaze locked with Jongho's. The once best friends were now at the same place and I felt like I shouldn't be there. "I just want to talk with Y/N, that's all," San said his voice low and determined as his gaze never left Jongho's.

"She’s not going with you!" Jongho stated firmly.

"That’s not up to you," San retorted flatly.

"She won’t go with you," Hongjoong’s voice cut in sharply.

"Stop talking like I'm not fucking here," I snapped, glaring at the three of them. "You all need to sort this out because you're acting like children. It's pathetic." I pointed at them, my frustration growing. "Let’s go, San!" I grabbed his hands and tugged him away.

"Y/N! Don't you fucking dare to go with him!" To my surprise, it was Hongjoong's voice. I stopped in my tracks at that.

"Or what? What are you going to do?" I looked at him questioningly. "Are you going to beat him again?" Jongho's brows furrowed at that.

Hongjoong looked speechless. "That is what I thought," Then I turned to leave him there with Jongho so he could explain what he did.

I sat in San's car and told him to take me away from there. I was just so mad at my brother, at Hongjoong, I couldn't even look at their faces anymore.

San took me to a random park, we didn't even have any connection with the place. He could've taken me to the place that was our favorite to go together, but he didn't. The reason was because we both sought closure and it needed a new place. So, we sat down on a bench and we talked about how we felt. He asked for an apology from me and I accepted it because there was no point in tiring the other out. We both needed to move on and this talk helped us go through it. It wasn't good when we broke up and it affected our friends too. I wanted San back in our friend group because he deserved to be there. And I knew the others wanted him to come back as well. Lastly, I hugged San and we both agreed on a distanced friendship. As I prepared to step out of his car, parked in front of Limitless, I noted that it was already late into the night. I suggested to San to talk with Jongho and even Hongjoong because their friendship needed fixing—these guys could fix any cars and bikes but they couldn't fix their friendship…

After talking with San, I headed upstairs, passing by a concerned Hongjoong who scanned me with his eyes, checking for any signs of injury. Then I encountered a furious Jongho, who I assumed was aware of the confrontation between San and Hongjoong. I chose to ignore both of them, closing the door behind me with a weary sigh. 

After speaking with San my head was a little clearer as I finally felt like I could think clearly and analyze the emotions I felt. My feelings towards San were deep but I could find the bottom of it, it was clear to me now that it had an ending. We just weren't meant to be and it had to happen like this. We can learn even from the heartbreaks; it makes us stronger and more experienced if we get into a new relationship.

Then Hongjoong came into my mind and I wanted to face the fact I did feel something for him, I couldn't deny that. It's hard to say but these emotions towards Hongjoong were deeper than what I felt for San, it almost felt endless, like it had no bottom. And I would've never imagined one day I'm going to say something like this.

But I might have fallen for Kim Hongjoong.

After what felt like an eternity, being drowned in my thoughts, I heard a low knock on my door as I was sitting in my bed and Jongho's head peeped into my room.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," He sat down on my bed and started to adjust the sheets carefully avoiding my eyes.

"Hongjoong told me some things…" He started. "Why didn't you tell me about San?" His brown eyes met mine.

"There was no point, Hongjoong was there at the right time, it happened and that's all. You ignored me anyway so…" I shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I was just so frustrated at the thought we have to go through the same road as half a month ago." His eyes were sincere and emotional.

"I get it, seriously. But after you saw we didn't even talk with Hongjoong you still ignored me. Why?"

He just shrugged. "I still thought something was happening behind my back…even though you didn't show it in front of me, I just felt it."

Guilt crept up my body. "Actually—" I wanted to tell him. No more secrets.

"I know. Hongjoong told me everything." He didn’t let me say anything.

My heart started to race I analyzed his face, searching for some signs of anger. But there was none. "Aren't you like…mad?"

He sighed as he ran his fingers through his brown hair. "No, I—Look I'm not mad, Y/N, I never was. I just wanted to protect you from another heartbreak. I just wanted to act like your big brother who protects you from anything…" He looked down at his hands, he looked so small like this.

"Jongho…" I reached for his hands and took it into mine. "I know you want to protect me; you really did our whole life and I am so grateful for that. But…you can't save me from the feelings I feel and the heartbreaks that are written for me. And I know that your friends are in this story and that is also a sensitive topic. But I didn't mean to fall in love with both of your best friends." Tears welled up in my eyes as this sentence sounded too deep and fragile. "I—I never said you had to choose between me and your friends and I would never ask you that. I would be glad if San would come back to our friend group like in the old days. It would be weird but it's not like I can't be in the same place with him.

"Okay, not anymore…but we talked and we are fine now. At least we can tolerate each other."

Jongho seemed like he was proud of me for being so collected.

"I'm going to talk with San, I promise," he said earnestly. "And about Hongjoong… I won’t get in your way. If you two have feelings for each other, then I shouldn’t stop you just because I’m afraid of losing you and my friends." Jongho spoke with a vulnerability that made his eyes well up, revealing his emotional struggle. 

"You won't lose us. We are always going to be by your side, this way or another but you can't get rid of us." I pulled him closer as I hugged him strongly.

"I would never want to. I love you!" Jongho whispered as the room slowly embraced in darkness.

"I love you too, and thank you!"

"You should talk to him."

"Where is he?" I asked.

"He has an important race and he was so stressed when he left. I didn't want to admit it but I think he needs you." Jongho said as his lips curved up a little as I stood up. I quickly walked towards my closet to get my black leather jacket as I was wearing black ripped jeans with a black top.

I hugged Jongho one last time before I stepped out of my room to run to my car and get to Hongjoong before he started the race.     

When I arrived at the location Jongho told me the race was going to be held, it was full of people. It was at the top of a huge parking lot in the heart of the city, where they could easily run speeding races. I was amused by how they held something illegal in this part of the city. We were late into the night already as the city lights were shining from up above. Colorful and upgraded cars were parked, and people looking at them like they were a work of art as I passed by them. Then there was a part where only motorbikes were and after parking my car, I walked towards it as I took my surroundings in. The music was beating through my heart as I walked past a car that had installed subwoofers. Everything was strange for me but I always wanted to come to races like these, it had a quite good atmosphere, and everyone seemed excited for the upcoming race.

I reached the motorbikes, there were a few types of bikes standing. They were so beautifully shaped and the colors highlighted its sharp features. I was searching for Hongjoong's red Honda in the eternity of bikes. I looked around, my eyes narrowing through the people who passed by me when someone grabbed my hand and pulled me along. I saw Hongjoong in front of me as he led us to a quieter place, which was the end of the parking lot.

He stopped and turned to face me. "What are you doing here?" He looked stressed like he didn't know where his head was. "You have to get away from here, it's dangerous here Y/N!" He snapped his head from the crowd back to me, looking like a maniac with his wide pupils and eyes nearly completely black. He wore ripped blue jeans and a leather jacket, his red hair disheveled from frequent, stressed attempts to comb it through.

"I came to watch you race and I wanted to talk to you." I stepped closer to him. I needed to calm him down.

He froze at that. "About what?"

"About us."

The crowd was cheering loudly when he said. "I have to go." He looked behind me at the crowd and then back at me like he didn't know what to do.

"Then go!" I nudged him.

He still wasn't himself as he just nodded his lips in a thin line. I stepped closer to him and looked up at him my eyes beaming sincerity. I brushed a red hair string away from his forehead as I whispered close to his lips. "Win this for me." Then I leaned closer to his face and left a sealing kiss on his parted lips. This seemed to bring back Hongjoong to the real world because his eyes were now full of sincere emotions and the burning desire that almost lit his eyes up.

"I will." Then he grabbed me by my waist and pulled me close to his body, his other hand cupping one side of my face as he crushed our lips into a quick chaste kiss, as he kissed me passionately telling me everything, he couldn't with it. Then he slightly pulled away leaving one little peck on my lips as he leaned his forehead against mine.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N…the things I said…" He whispered against my lips.

"Go, Hongjoong!" I chuckled and pushed him by his chest as he didn't want to release me.

"Okay," He left one last kiss on my mouth. "Wait for me, I have a race to win for my princess." He smiled at me, and there was the Hongjoong that finally didn't seem lost. He was full of life and that made my heart full with fuel that is never going to run out.

I stood beside the starting line, watching as Hongjoong pulled up on his dark red bike. His black helmet was on, but I could still feel his intense gaze piercing through it as he twisted the throttle, preparing to race against the competitor beside him. Then the guy in the middle counted back and all I saw was smoke that came from their tires. Whoever was faster won. It seemed like the guy was faster than Hongjoong at first and my heart was racing along with Hongjoong as I prayed for him to win this. Then it seemed this was all the guy could pull out from his bike because Hongjoong flew through the finish line in a blink of an eye.

 I saw as he stopped and bumped his fist into the air. I smiled he looked so cool from far away. As Hongjoong turned to come back to me on his bike, red and blue lights started to blind the people who were standing on the roof of a parking lot. The police were here.

I started to look around because I lost Hongjoong as the crowd started to run haphazardly panicking not to be caught by the police. Then a familiar bike pulled next to me and I felt relieved as Hongjoong offered his hand with a helmet. I saw his sharp eyes as he lifted the visor of his helmet, the red and blue lights dancing on his face.

"Come on, princess," He mumbled through his helmet. I accepted his inviting hand and took the helmet as I settled behind him on the bike. Hongjoong took my hand and pulled me close to his back as I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned my head on his shoulder. I smiled even though we probably needed to get away from there as soon as we could. But it was an adventure just as everything with Hongjoong. I knew if he was there with me, life just couldn't be boring.

Hongjoong rolled through the people carefully and when we managed to get out of the parking lot where I saw the police caught a few people, we finally speeded through the highway. The city lights faded into one thin line as we passed by the big buildings. I never felt this free, I suddenly understood why was Hongjoong so passionate about biking. It gave you the free will, the power to just disappear between the city lights. As we speeded through the highway, I raised one of my hands into the chilly air and chuckled. I just felt so happy the world just stopped for a moment and it was just only us; Hongjoong, the bike, and me. I looked up at the sky, where one side of it was black as the night and the other side was a shade of orange as the sun just started to rise. It was so beautiful.

When Hongjoong stopped at a parking lot as we passed some mountains and drove through some windings the view was more beautiful. Mesmerizing if I may say so. It's hard to describe something like this. We were in the middle of a mountain and at the edge of it all I could see were clouds. The city was covered in white clouds, the sky still painted bright yellow and orange, with a little hint of red that reminded me of Hongjoong's hair. It was like we were three meters above the sky.

We were still sitting on Hongjoong's bike both of us were just mesmerized by the view, only bothered to take off the helmet as we switched places and Hongjoong hugged me from behind, his head on top of mine as I leaned against his chest, his legs were balancing the both of us on the bike. We were sitting there in a comfortable silence as we took in the view in from of us, melting into each other’s presence. Hongjoong nudged me to get off the bike, helping me dismount before stepping off himself. He took my hands in his, lifting them to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on my knuckles. 

"Forgive me for being an asshole. I just—after our kiss…but to be honest way before that…I just couldn't get you out of my mind." He stated sincerely as his eyes sparkled with hope. "When I saw, what San was doing to you, I could have killed him right there. But even after everything, you still went with him yesterday. I'm not going to pretend it didn’t hurt, but I guess I deserved it..." He looked down at our hands, gently tracing my knuckles with his fingers.

"I needed closure, Joong. I couldn’t move on until everything with San was cleared up. That’s why I needed to talk with him. It’s done now." Hongjoong lifted his head, a sense of relief evident on his face. "And about Jongho…" 

"I talked with him, I told everything to him, about the fight with San, about our kiss afterward, that I have feelings for you, I told everything and he understood it." He seemed desperate, afraid of me stepping back again because of my brother.

"I talked with him too. He told me to go to your race because you needed me." I smiled sheepishly looking at our hands. Suddenly I felt as my cheeks started to blush.

 "He was right. My mind was a mess. I wasn’t sure if I could win this." He admitted.

"Did you like it?" He asked with a beaming smile, his perfect-white teeth showing. 

"Very much," I said feeling excited as I smiled. "But it was better riding with you through the city."

"Yeah?" He stepped closer to me as he hovered over me, his hands on my waist as he turned me to lean against his bike that was standing still. "Do you want to repeat it?" He asked as he leaned down his lips brushing slightly against mine.

"Definitely," I started looking up at him with sparkling eyes.

"Anything for my princess." His lips curled up as I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but I didn't have the time to complain as his lips were on mine in no time. It felt so good and so right. The passion I felt towards Hongjoong was beyond the universe. His lips moved against mine as I wrapped my hands around his neck, my fingers traveling up on his nape into his red strings as I brushed my fingers through it. He deepened the kiss by cupping one side of my face into his hand and lifting my head so he had better access. Sudden fireworks erupted in my chest, the burning desire igniting and exploding within my heart. Then his hands traveled down to my thighs as he traced his hands through them, then to the back of my thighs as he slowly lifted me to his bike so I was at the same height level as him. I wrapped my legs around his torso as his lips still moved against mine. I couldn't breathe anymore but I just couldn't stop because it was addicting kissing him, I felt like I never wanted to stop because if I did, I might disappear. It didn't feel real. He groaned lowly when his tongue got free access into my mouth, discovering every inch of my mouth. His hands were on my waist holding me still, afraid of falling off his bike. When he finally pulled away, after what felt like an eternity but still wasn’t long enough, he rested his forehead against mine and whispered. 

"Let me take care of you now. Let me give you what you deserve."             

(Ateez masterlist)

[fanfictionstuff]

Medicine seller smut please <3

Here it is. Finally. I guess. Lmao

Medicine seller from the 2024 movie.

“Marriage?” You sit respectfully across from your parents, your eyes wide in disbelief at their words. “You want me to get married?” In this moment, you feel dwarfed by their presence, even though you are all sitting in the same manner, legs tucked beneath you. It’s as if you’re standing before two imposing figures. Your father averts his gaze, unwilling to look in your eyes. “______,” your mother begins, noticing that your father won’t carry on with the conversation. “There have been rumors about you and a peddler. Of course, we know they aren’t true, but it’s starting to tarnish our family’s reputation.”

“Peddler?”

She nods. “Yes, he’s an odd man with peculiar clothing; some even say he’s a demon. Do you know who I’m referring to?"

A medicine seller with golden eyes flashes through your mind. “I don’t.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way; we’ll announce your marriage by the end of the month.”

“And who will the groom be?”

Your mother furrows her brow. “We haven’t gotten that far yet,” she admits. “Just follow our lead; we’ll announce that you are engaged to be married. Once that peddler leaves, we can figure out the rest.”

The answer takes you by surprise. "Once the peddler is gone, what does he have to do with anything? Do you really expect me to be engaged to someone?”

Your parents turn to look at each other, a bit thrown off by your question. You weren’t supposed to catch that. Your mother whispers your father’s name, but he looks just as confused about what to say. “Mom, Dad, what are you doing?”

“The peddler needs to know you aren’t available.”

“Huh?”

“Please, just trust me,” your mother implores. “If you encounter a peddler dressed in peculiar clothing carrying a large box, tell him you’re engaged to be married.”

You raise an eyebrow. "Alright, here’s an idea: there’s no need for an announcement. I don’t even know who you’re referring to. A peddler? So he won’t be around much longer? Describe what he looks like, and I’ll make sure to steer clear of him. Do you really want me to get married?” 

“We’ve actually chosen a few different men you could look into…”

 ———————————

“He wears an odd bright kimono and carries a large box on his back.”

After having dinner with your parents, you decide to leave the house. It’s getting late, and more intoxicated individuals are beginning to appear on the streets, with the worst of them already stumbling about. They’ve likely been drinking since they woke up this morning. You ignore them; they are relatively harmless at this time. Your eyes travel across the various shops, where young women beam at passersby, trying to allure potential customers. You give a wave of disinterest when one of them tries to catch your attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice an oddly dressed figure carrying a large box.

“He has strange light blue hair with pink tips. Around this long.”

You pivot to catch a better view of the man, but his light blue and pink hair obscures his face as he strides past you. He veers into an alley that leads to the riverbank. You follow. He walks towards a large tree, where he drops the box on his back before turning to face you.

“He has an extremely pale complexion with unusual blue and red markings on his face.”

Your mother described him quite well, but she overlooked one detail—the one that struck you most when you first laid eyes on him. His golden eyes lock onto yours. “You shouldn’t be out so late, Miss ______.”

“I’m engaged.”

“Oh?”

You nod. “Yes, I’m supposed to say this if I ever meet you. There have been rumors about us, and I need to clarify that if we do meet, I’m engaged.”

“Interesting, and who is the lucky man?”

“That’s yet to be decided.”

The man across from you smirks. "So, it’s still undecided? Does that mean there’s a chance I could be a possibility?”

“My parents want you to lose interest. If you learn I’m engaged, you'll move on without causing any trouble. Is it working?”

Kusuriuri shakes his head. “Unfortunately for your parents, it’s too late for that; there’s no losing interest in you now."

"You're quite persistent, aren't you?" you tease playfully, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you engage in banter with Kusuriuri. His smirk broadens as he steps closer to you, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow around him. It’s difficult to resist the allure of his mysterious demeanor and captivating presence, even as you attempt to keep a semblance of distance. “A woman of my stature certainly has no difficulty moving on from a mere medicine peddler like you," you quip, attempting to conceal the fondness that lingers in your tone. 

His golden eyes glimmer with mischief as he leans in closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "Ah, but it seems you cannot resist the allure of a humble medicine peddler like me," he says, his voice low and teasing.

You raise a brow. “Did you use a love potion on me? Otherwise, it doesn’t make sense, right?” 

He chuckles softly. "It seems so. A woman of your intellect and grace falling for a humble medicine peddler like me—surely, it's the result of a love potion." He gently cups your cheek, drawing you in for a tender kiss.

As he pulls away, the mischievous glint in his golden eyes shifts into something more tender. "But jokes aside, my dear ______, do you want to move on from me?"

You reach up to gently trace the intricate markings on his face. “Never.”

“I can’t provide you with the lavish life you’re accustomed to,” he admits. On the night he met you, he hadn’t expected someone like you to take an interest in him; usually, someone of your stature wouldn’t engage with someone like him. Then, just a few nights later, he believed it would be a one-time encounter, that he would only get to be that close to you once. He thought he’d leave and never find himself in your bed again. 

You draw him into another kiss, taking charge as your tongue glides along his bottom lip. A smirk crosses his face at your boldness, and he parts his lips for you. As you navigate mouth, he encourages you to deepen the kiss. “Will you marry me?” you whisper as you pull away. “I can tell my parents I’m engaged.” 

Kusuriuri pulls back, his golden eyes wide with surprise. “Are you asking me because you truly want to be with me or because you want to avoid an arranged marriage?” 

“Can it be both?” You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. “I may have initially decided to get to know you out of curiosity or boredom, but the connection we have... can't you feel it, too?” 

He sighs deeply, leaning into your touch. “I can feel it, ______,” he admits. “But an engagement... marriage?” He hesitates for a moment before adding. “I’m not sure if it’s commitment you’re ready to make.” 

You pause for a moment, looking down at your intertwined hands. “But I’ve thought it through, and I’m sure about this. You’re the one I want to be with. You know, all my friends who’ve married tell me of their lives with their husbands. It sounds awful. Their husbands show them no respect and take on many lovers. They’re left unsatisfied in many ways.” 

You watch as Kusuriuri considers your words, his gaze thoughtful as he looks out over the riverbank. You can see so much in his eyes—years of wisdom and experience, but also a hint of vulnerability. Seeing him like this is strange, with his guard lowered and his emotions laid bare. But it also makes your heart flutter, because it means he's letting you in. 

“Alright,” he finally says, turning back to look at you. His golden eyes are warm and sincere, and the sight of it sends a shiver down your spine. 

"Really?" Your heart pounds in your chest as you wait for his confirmation. 

"Yes," he assures you, his voice soft yet firm. "If you truly wish to stay by my side and can accept a new lifestyle." 

You launch yourself at him then, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight embrace. He stumbles slightly but quickly regains his footing, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to keep you steady. 

"I love you," you whisper against his ear. 

“I love you too.” 

—————--------------------------------------

You grin, nearly bouncing in your seat as you stare at your parents. You aren’t sure how they’ll take it, but you’re excited and if they don’t agree, you’ll leave either way. “So, you know how you want me to be engaged? Right? I found a fiance.” 

Both your mother and father blink in confusion, your father using your nickname. “We weren’t really expecting you to go out and find a fiance, you weirdo.” 

Your mother groans, covering her face. “How do you already have a fiance? You aren’t even dating anyone. You can not find someone to marry within twenty-four hours.”

“Right, we’ve been together for months.” It’s true. He’d leave to exorcise Mononoke but always returns to you. “When you mentioned getting married, he was the first person who popped into my mind, and I couldn’t picture myself with anyone else.” You admit.

“Months?” They both yell in disbelief. 

“…yeah.” 

Your mother stares at you as if you have two heads. “Who is he? I want to meet him.” 

“Right, he’s in the next room. I’ll get him.”

Quickly, you open the spare bedroom, grabbing Kusururi by the hand and pulling him into the living room where your parents are waiting. 

As the eccentric man stands before them, your mother’s mouth drops in surprise, while your father stares wide-eyed, confusion filling his features as he looks between the two of you. “I’m sorry," he laughs at the irony before pointing at Kusuriuri. "We mentioned that you should say you’re engaged to avoid the medicine seller, yet he’s the fiancé you brought to us. How did this happen?”

Your mom nods and says, “We wanted you to tell him you’re engaged because we thought he might be bothering you; we heard he’s been watching you.” 

You glance from your parents to Kusuriuri and back again. “So, it’s okay if I marry him?” 

Your dad answers. “No.” 

“Huh?”

“Can you provide for ______? Say you can provide for _____ and yourself. What about children?” 

“Dad, nobody has mentioned children.” 

“Well, if you’re getting married, you better mention it. You want kids, does he? Can he provide for a family?” 

Kusuriuri, who had been silent throughout the conversation, finally speaks up.

"I can assure you," he says, his gaze meeting your father's, "I would do everything in my power to provide for ______ and any children we may have. I may not have a traditional occupation or guarantee of a consistent income, but I am resourceful and skilled at what I do."

"And what exactly do you do?" your mother asked, her tone filled with suspicion.

"I am a medicine seller by trade," he answers respectfully. 

Kusuriuri maintains his calm demeanor, meeting your father's gaze without hesitation. "I assure you, my trade is not as simple or mundane as it sounds. I deal with more than just mere pills and ointments. I provide remedies for ailments that common medicine cannot touch."

"And how do you propose to support a family with such an inconsistent income?" Your mother interjects, her tone laced with skepticism.

"I have managed to sustain myself thus far," Kusuriuri replies coolly, "and I have every intention of securing a stable future for ______ and our possible children. You have my word."

Your dad shakes his head. “Sustaining yourself is completely different than a wife and kids. Women are more complicated than men; they need more than we do, plus when children come.”

Kusuriuri nods at your father's words, understanding the gravitas of the situation. "I am not naive to the responsibilities that come with a wife and children. I understand they will require more than my current lifestyle can provide. I am prepared to make adjustments as necessary for our future family." 

Your mother lifts a hand, tapping her fingers against her lips as she eyes Kusuriuri critically. "What are these 'adjustments' you speak of?" 

Kusuriuri, unflustered by the scrutiny, responds confidently. "Whatever is required of me. The specifics can be determined as we move forward, whether it means expanding my trade, taking on additional work, or finding new ways to secure income." 

"But how?" your father persists. "You're a wanderer, aren't you? You move from town to town, selling your wares. It's no life for a wife or children."

"Perhaps," Kusuriuri concedes, "but there are many ways to provide for a family beyond mere physical sustenance. Emotional support, care, love – these are all things I can provide in abundance."

"And yet they don't put food on the table," your mother points out.

"No, they do not," Kusuriuri agrees. "But my trade is more lucrative than you might think. I have been able to save a considerable sum over the years."

Your parents exchange a look, their expressions still wary and doubtful. "And what about a place to live?" Your mother asks, her voice softening slightly.

"That is something we can discuss," Kusuriuri replies smoothly. "I have no qualms with settling down in one town if it means providing stability for my family."

There is a moment of silence as your parents mull over Kusuriuri's words. You can see the conflict in their eyes – on one hand, they want to protect you and ensure your future is secure. On the other hand, they can see the genuine sincerity in Kusuriuri's words and his determination to make things work.

Finally, your father lets out a sigh. "I suppose we will trust your judgment, _____." He turns to Kusuriuri and nods. "We will give our blessing for this marriage on one condition – that you both have a solid plan for the future."

Kusuriuri bows deeply in gratitude. "Thank you. I assure you, I will not disappoint."

——————————————————-

You’re sitting with Kusuriuri in your bedroom as he goes through different items in his box. “I’m surprised they accepted you.” 

“They still haven't accepted me. I need to prove that I can provide for you and any future children.” He reminds you as he stands up. “Also, there’s the fact that we can’t settle in one place.” 

“We can make it work. Do you really want children?”

“Maybe. Do you?” 

You frown and pull him closer to you. “Don’t throw an important question like that back at me, I asked you first. But if you don’t want children, that’s fine, you've been providing the best for me in every way that truly matters.” You grin, pulling him into a kiss. “Apparently, including sex.” You comment, thinking back to a recent conversation with some friends.

Kusururi smirks. “Well, I am the only person you’ve been intimate with.” You nod in agreement. “True, but I've heard my friends complain about their experiences. It’s awful for them. They just lay there, and it’s over; they get nothing from it. I'm lucky to have found someone who values my satisfaction.” 

Kusuriuri raises an inquisitive brow at your admittance, a playful smirk playing on his exotic lips. "Is that so?" he muses, sliding closer to you on the bedsheets. His golden eyes, a striking contrast against his pale skin, shine with interest. "Then I would hate to disappoint." 

His fingers ghost over your clothed form, tracing patterns akin to the vibrant designs on his own kimono. A tingle of anticipation courses through you as Kusuriuri's touch slowly undoes the ties of your clothing, revealing the skin beneath, before removing the clothing altogether.

Your breath hitches as Kusuriuri leans down, his mouth mere inches away from yours. But instead of claiming your lips for a passionate kiss like you expect him to, he instead presses soft kisses along your jawline and down your neck. 

A gasp escapes your lips at the unexpected intimacy of his actions. You reach out blindly for something to hold onto, finding purchase in the material of Kusuriuri's kimono. Your fingers clench reflexively around the fabric as his lips and tongue continue their tantalizing journey down your body. 

Kusuriuri maintains eye contact, his golden gaze searching yours for signs of discomfort or displeasure. When he finds none, he continues his descent, his long hair brushing against your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

The world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the sensation of Kusuriuri’s mouth on your skin. His touch is as tender as it is skilled, a testament to his desire to please you. You can’t help but let out a sigh of contentment, lost in the pleasure he is providing. 

Eventually, Kusuriuri reaches the apex of your thighs, looking up at you with an air of mischief in his eyes. He doesn’t rush into this next act, instead taking time to appreciate every inch of you with his hands and mouth. His careful attention leaves you aching with desire, your hips rising off the bed in an unspoken plea for more. He chuckles lowly at your response, but he doesn't tease you with denial; he knows when to play and when to satisfy. 

He dips his head down, mouth meeting the warm center of your body. The sensation of his tongue against your sensitive flesh sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp and arch your back off the bed. Kusuriuri presses a hand to your hipbone to steady you, his other one continuing its journey on your bare skin, keeping you grounded as he explores you further. 

His movements are deliberate and calculated - a testament to his observant nature. He knows how to read you, how to interpret the signs your body gives him. Every twitch of your muscles, every hitch in your breathing... he takes note of them all and adjusts his actions accordingly. 

You can feel the coil of heat in your lower abdomen tightening with every stroke of his tongue, every press of his fingers. It's a slow build, but Kusuriuri is patient. He knows the value of taking his time, of making you feel every sensation in its fullest intensity. His focus never wavers, those vibrant eyes of his intently watching your reactions as he continues to bring you pleasure. 

His name falls from your lips in a breathless plea, the sound echoing around the room. It’s a call to which Kusuriuri responds with a hum of acknowledgment against your sensitive skin, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. He increases his pace ever so slightly, enough to make you gasp and dig your fingers into the sheets beneath you. 

The world narrows down to the feeling of Kusuriuri's mouth on you, his tongue methodically working circles that have you writhing beneath him. He slides his free hand down to push two fingers into you as he focuses on your clit with his mouth.

The sudden feeling of his fingers inside you evokes a strangled moan from your lips. Kusuriuri’s eyes flicker up to meet yours, drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and lust-glazed eyes with an inscrutable look. He lets out another low chuckle, the sound rumbling against your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

Your senses are overwhelmed by the sensation of his mouth on you, the steady rhythm of his fingers moving inside you. Each movement is expertly calculated to draw out your pleasure, brushing against that one spot inside you that only he knows how to reach. A whimper escapes you as he curls his fingers, hitting that spot just right and making stars burst behind your closed eyes. 

The coil in your belly tightens further, spiraling towards a peak that threatens to consume you completely. You’re panting now, body taut beneath him, hands clutching at the sheets around you as if they were a lifeline. Your voice is a ragged whisper as you plead, “Kusuriuri…” 

His response is immediate, his pace quickening in response to your plea. The sensation of his tongue on your clit and his fingers inside you growing more intense, driving you towards the edge with a relentless rhythm. His name spills from your lips again and again, each utterance growing louder and more desperate as you teeter on the brink. 

He doesn’t let up, pressing harder against you with each stroke of his tongue and every thrust of his fingers. Your body is a live wire under him, thrumming with anticipation. You can feel yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge, pushed by Kusuriuri’s skilled ministrations. 

And then suddenly, you’re there. You feel the world tilt beneath you as the pleasure coursing through your veins explodes into a fiery inferno that consumes every part of your being. He continues his ministrations, drawing out your climax until you're left gasping for breath, your body convulsing beneath him in waves of pleasure. You cling on to Kusuriuri as if he’s the only real thing in this world, your fingers digging into his shoulders. 

He doesn't stop until he's sure you've ridden out every tremor of your climax, each flick of his tongue and press of his fingers calculated to enhance the aftershocks that ripple through your body. Your gasps turn into sighs, and you relax back onto the bed with a contented exhale. 

When he finally pulls away, his gaze is intense but satisfied as he takes in your flushed face and glazed eyes. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead, a simple gesture that sends warmth spreading through your chest. 

"You're beautiful," he murmurs against your skin, his tone laced with affection. 

“You did it again.” 

“Did what?” 

“Stripped me from my clothes, made me cum, yet you’re still fully dressed.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, a glint of mischief dancing in his golden eyes. "Hmm, it appears I have. My apologies." He murmurs in a tone that suggests he is anything but apologetic. 

He pulls away from you slightly, sitting back on his heels as his hands begin to work on the intricate ties of his kimono. His movements are slow and controlled, clearly intended to tease and keep your attention as he gradually reveals more of his skin. His dark purple kimono joins your discarded clothes on the floor, revealing black leggings that clung to his legs and a red nagajuban that hinted at the toned physique hidden beneath. 

His gaze holds yours, an unspoken challenge in his golden eyes as his light-blue locks fall around his shoulders in a cascade of color that catches the dim light around you. 

With an almost casual grace, Kusuriuri moved his hands to the sash around his waist, undoing the knot and letting it fall to the floor. The rest of his clothes soon followed, leaving him in nothing but his skin. He was beautiful in a way that took your breath away, his pale skin glowing in the dim light.

He chuckled lowly at your awed expression, crawling back onto the bed and looming over you. His body is a tantalizing promise against yours, every touch sending sparks through your veins. He brushes a few strands of hair off your face as he leans down to press a kiss against your lips, effectively stealing your breath away. 

You reach up to weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as you revel in the feel of him. His kisses are intoxicating, filling you with a warmth that spreads through your entire body. 

"I believe it's your turn to be pleased," you whisper against his lips. 

He returns your smile with a smirk of his own, the light from the candles dancing in his golden eyes. "And what makes you think I haven’t been pleased simply by making you feel good?" His voice was low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. 

But before you can answer, he presses his lips against yours once more, effectively silencing any retort you might have. His kisses are intoxicating, drawing you in and making the world outside fade away until there is nothing left but the two of you. 

He leans back on his heels, admiring the view before him. You are sprawled out beneath him, completely at his mercy, and he loves it. 

Your eyes flutter open to find his gaze locked onto yours, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he trails his fingers along your bare skin. His touch is feather-light, barely there, but even the slightest contact ignites a spark of desire in your veins. His eyes travel the length of your body, taking in every detail as if it is a work of art. And then slowly, ever so slowly, his fingers move to touch you. 

His hands were everywhere – exploring, touching, teasing – making you writhe beneath him with each caress. His fingers were just as skilled as his mouth had been – perhaps even more so. Each touch is calculated to enhance your pleasure, to draw whimpers and cries from your lips that echo through the room. 

Gently, Kusuriuri spreads your legs and positions himself between them, his golden eyes never leaving yours. You feel a surge of desire as he lines himself up at your entrance, the tip of him nudging against you in a tantalizing promise of what's to come. 

He thrusts into you – slowly, agonizingly so. A choked gasp slips from your lips as your body adjusts to his size. His name falls from your lips like a sweet plea, and he obliges, setting up a slow rhythm that has you writhing beneath him. 

His strokes become quicker and harder, each thrust driving him deeper inside you. As each moment passes, his control wanes, and his thrusts become erratic, filling the room with the sounds of your combined pleasure. His hands grip your hips firmly, anchoring you to him as he drives inside you relentlessly. 

His name rips from your throat over and over again, echoed by the fervent groan that shakes his own chest. His eyes are locked onto yours, a mixture of lust and adoration shimmering within their golden depths. He leans down to press a kiss against your lips, swallowing the moan you let out when he hits that spot inside you. 

"Look at me," he murmurs against your lips, his voice strained with his own pleasure. His eyes flutter open to meet yours once more; determination etched on his features. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you lock gazes with him, a silent affirmation of your connection. 

Driven by your reactions and the desperate plea in his name that rolls off your tongue, Kusuriuri changes the angle of his movements, hitting deeper within you with every thrust. The change sends sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins as you near your release. 

"Kusuriuri," you gasp out breathlessly, the world around you narrowing down to just him - his touch, his scent, the feeling of him moving within you. "I'm close..." 

"Then let go," he whispers the encouragement into your ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin there. 

You nod frantically, words lost in the tidal wave building within you. Your vision blurs at the edges as your release crashes into you, a scream tearing itself from your throat as your body convulses in pleasure. 

With a few more thrusts, Kusuriuri joins you; his gaze locked onto yours as he reaches his own climax. His body stiffens above you, a low growl rumbling in his chest as waves of pleasure wrack his body. His golden eyes are brighter than ever, a burning intensity to them that leaves you breathless once more. 

After what feels like an eternity, he gradually eases his hold on you, finally releasing a breath he'd been holding in. He collapses next to you on the bed, his arms wrapping around you instinctively. 

His breathing eventually slows, matching the relaxed rhythm of yours as the two of you bask in the afterglow.

"I do hope that was satisfactory," he murmurs after a few long moments of silence, smirking at you from beneath heavy eyelashes. 

"More than satisfactory," you chuckle in response, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder, your lips curving at the satisfied hum that vibrates from within his chest. 

"Good," he says simply, with a content sigh. His golden eyes close gently, his features relaxing in peaceful satisfaction. For a moment, you savor the silence, letting the calmness envelop you in its warm embrace. 

Kusuriuri's fingers trace absent circles on your skin, lulling you into a peaceful stupor. You lose yourself in the sensation of his touch and briefly wonder if this is what it feels like to be wholly adored by someone. From his languid movements and steady breathing, you can tell he's nearing sleep. 

He looks serene: every sharp line and angle softened by the fading candlelight. 

However, sleep doesn’t claim Kusuriuri so easily; he’s always half-awake, forever alert to any possible threats. It’s one of the things you’ve come to understand about him: despite the calm exterior, there’s always an undercurrent of readiness that seldom fades away. 

Breaking through your thoughts, Kusuriuri adjusts himself slightly on the bed. He pulls you closer until your back is against his chest, wrapping an arm around you securely. His body is warm against yours, providing a comforting presence that helps your weary eyes to drift close.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

My Girl 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your brother’s friend from work starts hanging out a lot more often. (short!reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

You carefully pull the pastry over the slices of apple a cinnamon. You twist the corners together to complete the effect and hold it in place. Your blossoms are your specialty. You'll sprinkle coarse sugar over the top before you put them in the oven but for now, they'll have to rest. Your mother still has food cooking for the main course. 

You start another one, roll it out the pastry, slice it just so, wrap, and twist…  

The front door clatters and you hear Isaac say hello to your mom on her way in, “where's dad?” He adds on. 

“He'll be home soon,” she chimes. She's indulging in some wine for all her hard work in the kitchen. 

You can't help but long for your bed and the book you left on your pillow. The real world is always so monotonous. You enjoy baking but you'd rather finish the chapter. Sigh, you suppose that comes with the human condition; you're obligated to acknowledge the non-fictional slog. 

“Hey,” the deep rumble cuts through the air like the distance approach of some lingering dragon in its lair. You pop your head up and look over as Sy sets down his usual courtesy; beer and wine. He looks at you then the pan you line with pastry and fruit. “Er, whatcha making?” 

You look back to your hands and finish the twist, “apple blossoms.” 

“Mm, I like apple,” he steps closer to the counter, stopping at the counter, wavering as if he's afraid to come any further.  

“Thanks, er, oh, me too,” you shrug awkwardly, “my grandma taught me.” 

“Ah,” he nods and looks to the side, scratching his beard as he puffs out, “how's… how's your book?” 

You rinse of your hands, drying them thoroughly, “it's alright. I read it before.” 

“Tolkien, right?” He wonders. 

You nod. 

“Ahem, yeah, I… I started… the Fellowship one… pretty good so far.” 

“Oh? You did?” You face him. 

“I pick it up on my break, get a few pages here and there,” he chews his lip and pats his front pocket, feeling along it before dipping his fingers into the fabric, his brow slanting, “I… I made this.” 

He slides out a long flat piece of metal. It's slender and delicate, corner rounded to an oval, with elven patterning along its face. You squint and lean in to have a better look. 

“Wow. What is it?” 

“It's for you,” he says abruptly, “I mean it's a bookmark. I made it for you.” 

“Me?” You wonder as your eyes round, “that’s…” you look him in the face, “why– you didn't have to do that, Sy.” 

“Eh, it isn't much,” he holds it out, “be good to keep your place and all. You never drink the wine or nothing so…” 

“That's… sweet,” you smile and accept the book mark, turning it over. Your name is wrought in beautiful calligraphy on the other side, “it's beautiful.” 

He's quiet as you admire his handiwork. You don't know what else to say. You didn't expect it. You wouldn't expect him to think that much about you. 

“Anything I can help with?” He breaks the stuffy silence, made more stolid by the radiating heat of the stove. 

“Um, no, I'm pretty much done,” you move the pan of blossoms to the other counter, “but thank you.” 

“Ain't no trouble,” he assures and taps the countertop with his thick fingers, “s'pose I'll see ya at dinner.” 

“Sure,” you say over your shoulder. 

You wait until he's gone and back up, looking down at the bookmark. You can't believe how nice it is. How delicate. How can someone like him make something so elegant? Once more you’re reminded of the brutish dwarves and their renowned creations. 

You'll have to do something for him. To make it even. You don't know much about Sy but you know about Tolkien. You're sure you'll come up with something. 

📖

You sit down for dinner. It seems a lot for just a Wednesday. You won't complain even if you would rather be reading. Your mom has put together a merry feast which could feed a king himself. 

The chair beside you scrapes out and you expect Isaac to elbow you as he always does. Instead, he takes the chair across from you. Sy claims the seat to your left. He’s so big, he can’t help but brush your arm with his thick one. You send him a meek smile and he nods. 

As you serve yourselves from the glistening roast and potatoes and medley of salads and veggies, your mother flutters around offering to fill glasses. When she finally sits, she can barely stay still. 

“So, I know this is a lot,” she begins, “but I have news I wanted to share and this is my little surprise celebration.” 

You quirk your head and Isaac barely reacts as he cuts into the pork. 

“I've been given a really big opportunity at work and I'll be heading up a new project,” she's shaking with excitement, “in London.” 

“London?” You echo and look around. 

Isaac chews around his confusion as he finally reacts but your dad only smiles at your mother. You try to muster some positivity but you’re too surprised. This is a bigger twist than any book you’ve read. 

“I'll be gone for three weeks,” she says, “so yeah, I'll miss you all. I know it's all very sudden but I can't pass this up and I know you'll be okay.” 

“What?” Isaac chokes down his food. 

“Congratulations,” Sy says, “that's big news.” 

“When do you leave?” You ask. 

“Friday.” 

“Friday?” You gasp. 

“I know it's short notice but there were details to be confirmed and–” 

“Mom,” you squeak, “that's… that's great. I'm happy. Just… surprised.” 

“What are we gonna do?” Isaac whines. He dramatically sits back and rubs his cheeks. 

Sy clears his throat, “you're grown. You'll figure it out. You should be happy for your mother.” 

“He's right,” your dad growls, “your mom worked hard for this.” 

“We'll be okay,” you wisp, assuring yourself as much as everyone else. 

“Won't be long at all,” your mother beams even as she gets teary-eyed, “I'll call you every day.” 

📖

After dinner, you offer to clear the table. You want to think. You’’ll miss your mom when she’s gone. You assume you’ll be doing much of the cooking in her absence. You don’t mind, she always does so much. But that isn’t the only thing that will go away with your mom.  

It’s just disappointing that you were away for college and finally get back home and she’s leaving. You wasted the time you did have. You shouldn’t have spent all those hours with the Fellowship. You should have spent it in reality. Funny how fast your perspective can shift. 

You finish up tidying as you hear the voices from the front porch. The smell of the apple blossoms lace the air with cinnamon. You take them out of the oven, they’re perfectly golden and some of the apply good noose oozes out the little slits in the side. You plate each with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and take them out two at a time. 

You elbow out onto the porch, the snap of the screen door announcing your arrival. Your mom and dad sit on the porch swing as Sy stands across from them leaning on the railing. You force out a ‘hi’ and hand your parents their plates before you step back. 

“I’ll grab yours,” you say to Sy, “does anyone want tea or coffee?” 

“Oh, peanut, you’re so sweet, I wouldn’t mind some tea... even though I’m sure I’ll have more than enough in England,” she chuckles. 

“Decaf, please,” your dad grins. 

“Alright, will do,” you say. 

“I’ll help,” Sy stands straight, “you’ll have your hands full.” 

“Aw, Sy, you are too much,” your mother preens. 

“Where’s Isaac?” You wonder allow as your hand hovers on the screen door. 

“Moping, somewhere,” your father scoffs. “let him come out for his own dessert, if he wants it.” 

“Oh, right,” you accept and as you turn, a hand grabs the door above yours and pulls it open. Sy is close as he reaches above you to let you inside. You flit ahead of him and he follows with his sturdy steps, pausing to leave his boots on the mat. 

“You don’t have to help,” you say as you grab his plate and offer it to him as he enters the kitchen, “I just gotta put the water on.” 

“Wanna,” he says, “leave mine there. Why don’t you have some?” He insists. 

“I will,” you assure him and reluctantly put the plate back on the counter. 

You turn and flip on the electric kettle. You take out your mother’s favourite mug and a tea ball. As you do that, Sy nears the counter next to you. 

“Where’s the decaf?” He asks. 

“I said you don’t have to,” you giggle out your nerves, “really, I got it.” 

“I said, I want to,” he shrugs, “I don’t mind.” 

You don’t want to argue. How can you? He’s being helpful and you won’t have much of that. Isaac and your dad work so naturally, you’ll be taking on more of the housework. You’re not unhappy at that prospect, you just don’t want things to change so fast. 

“You’re gonna miss your mom?” Again, his questions sound like statements. 

You wince and nod, “yeah,” you close the tea ball and hook the chain on the rim of the cup. He works diligently to loud the coffee maker, measuring out the grounds deliberately. You can’t really explain everything you feel. 

“Well,” he snaps the lid down, “if ya need anything, let me know.” He backs up and goes to the other end of the counter. He slowly turns the plate of pastry and ice cream, “make sure you get some too. Can’t be doin’ all that hard work for nothing.” 

He slides the plate towards him and lifts it. He turns his broad shoulders to you and stalks out. You hear the spook clink into the porcelain before he reaches the front door and he lets out a rumbling purr. Well, at least the dessert turned out. 

[pickleskisser]

hii!! I really liked your pickles headcanons and the part about meeting his family was my favorite! if you have the time could I request hcs for meeting the family for the rest of the boys? if not the rest of them then just skwisgaar would be fine!

remember to drink water, eat a snack, and take plenty of breaks!

(ps can i be spade anon?)

HIIII !! Omg thank you sm I had a lot of fun with it lolz. And yeah I can so do that for you :p fair warning it's very improvised since info on these dude's parents are scarce but I hope it's enjoyable anyways ☆

Meeting the Parents HCs

Nathan Explosion

The one you have to worry least about, his parents are sweethearts.

Though his mom will have an eye on you both the whole time.

I feel like Nathan has a record of getting entangled with people who were not so good for him, so it isn't personal or anything she's just on the fence at first.

Once she realizes you're not like that, though, and genuinely love Nathan and, in turn, treat him how he deserves, she's alllllllll over you.

She's going to want your number, your Skype, your Facebook, everything.

She'll pull out the baby pictures too. It greatly embarrasses your brutal boyfriend.

His dad would be the same, on the fence a little, but he overall trusts Nathan a little more.

He might try to plan a fishing trip, though, and Nathan is going to be all over that, so good luck getting out of that if you viscerally dislike fishing.

Overall, don't sweat it! As long as you treat their boy right, they love you, and you might as well be family now.

Toki Wartooth

Oh boy. So I'm not sure you could ever really meet his parents?

He doesn't like talking about them. You probably didn't even learn anything about them until late in your relationship.

If you were to hypothetically meet them, well, you're only meeting his mom.

Aslaug would be dead at this point so there wouldn't be much of an option.

Anja is a cold woman with high unachievable standards. So don't take the fact she won't even speak to you too personally.

If you're religious in the Christian sense, you might have a small chance of approval… but then again, you're dating Toki Wartooth of Dethklok, and you had to learn about him somewhere. Goddamn devil music.

Don't even waste your breath. All that matters is how much you and Toki love each other.

William Murderface

It's not willing on his part at all.

Stella is showing up unannounced, ranting and raving about not telling her he finally got hitched, and he must just want her to die or something.

He's snippy and miserable the whole time. Not miserable in the same sense Pickles was, he's more annoyed than anything.

Stella isn't the most gentle woman. She's abrasive and loud and can be partial to physical violence, but she does care a little bit about her grandson.

She really sucks at showing it, and definitely fucked him up with her parenting style (if his emotional constipation and short fuse didn't make that clear) but she did step up when his parents died instead of letting him go through the system, so.

All this to say, she's giving you a shotgun talk.

William will pry it out of her hands, of course, and curse her out for it, but it's happening !!

After that, though, don't worry, you're family now. Actually, maybe you should worry.

This means that whatever small politeness she whipped up before is long gone, you're a Murderface now, you are going to get treated like one.

Although William couldn't care less about his grandmother's opinion, he cares about yours. So, to see you embracing his family in full stride without getting scared off is more than heartwarming to him.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Again, it's fully unwilling on his end. It would honestly have to be something you want.

I think it's needless to say his relationship with his mom is weird. He truthfully wouldn't mind never seeing her again, especially after the events of fatherklok.

But again, if you really, really, want it then, yeah, he'll take you down to Sweden.

Surfetta doesn't have much of an opinion on you. What you are to her son is no concern to her.

She's most likely tipsy the whole time and disappearing for periods at a time.

The whole thing will feel like a waste of time, and Skwisgaar is stressed.

Don't worry he just needs to play his Thunderhorse for a few hours, and maybe a little bit of laying on top of you with his head on your chest listening to the sound of your heartbeat… just a little.

[nadvs]

i’m ugh i love your take on angst. but twins are usually born early, so when you’re in labor rafes on an away game and you’re going through most of it by yourself

aaa thank you!! omg exactly what i was picturing 🤭

based on this fic

» au masterlist

rafe’s stomach sinks when he gets the phone call.

he’s boarding his team’s jet after an away game. it was the last away game he told management he could do until the birth of his twins, refusing to be out of town when they arrive.

especially because he was traded at the start of the season, moving them even farther away from their hometown. she doesn’t have anyone else close by to help her if she goes into labor.

she’s seven months and three weeks along. the doctors told them multiple births tend to come early. he agreed to do this one last away game, confident he’d make it.

but now, he’s an hour flight away when he gets the call from his girlfriend that she’s having contractions and on her way to the hospital in an ambulance.

he feels like an idiot for taking this risk. for assuming it’d be fine. because now he’s completely and utterly powerless, having to sit on a plane and wait and hope he makes it there before his babies do.

he calls her the second they land, but she doesn’t answer. the call goes straight to voicemail. in the cab, he calls her a few more times. nothing. her phone must have died.

when he runs up to the hospital desk asking where she is, he realizes he’s nearly heaving while the woman at the front desk searches through the system.

finally, he gets a floor and a room number, and he runs up the stairs and through the hallways until he gets to the door he’s been dreaming about coming through for the last two hours.

she looks up when she hears the door creak open. rafe drops the duffel bag strewn over his shoulder and rushes to her. it hasn’t happened yet.

“i’m not too late?” he says, panting.

“no,” she says, looking utterly miserable. she winces as another contraction hits her, squeezing her eyes shut.

“is it hurting?” he grips her hand, her fingers digging into the back of his hand.

she can’t even speak through the pain, trying to breathe through it.

rafe has never felt worse in his life. she’s been here, without him, in pain, all because he made a bad call.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispers. “squeeze my hand as hard as you need to. i deserve it.”

she climbs over the harshest spike of pain, then starts to breathe more evenly as the contraction fades away.

“they keep checking, but i’m not dilated enough,” she tells him. “it’s like my body won’t cooperate.”

“can i get you anything?” he asks anxiously.

“i’m just so glad you made it,” he says.

“i’m so fucking sorry that you’ve been alone.” rafe dips his forehead against her fist closed around his hand.

she bites her lip, her head resting on her pillow. it’s been a nightmare, dealing with the agony and anxiety that she’d be surrounded by strangers during the scariest thing she thinks she’s ever gone through.

her obgyn isn’t on shift, so somebody she doesn’t know will be delivering the babies. she was terrified she’d have to do this without rafe. she looks over at her boyfriend as he kisses her knuckles over and over.

“is this dad?” the nurse says as she comes in.

“yes,” she breathes.

“amazing,” she says cheerfully. “mom is doing great. she’s tough.”

rafe nods, glancing over at his girl, wondering if there’s anything he can do to make up for not being here.

“i’m going to have the doctor on call come in to check up on you again in a few minutes. you still okay without the epidural?”

“yes,” she says.

“just give us a ring if you need us, okay?”

rafe kisses the back of her hand again as the nurse scurries out of the room.

“you seeing how long you can go without it?” he asks, remembering her telling him she was going to only go for the epidural when she was desperate.

“yeah, but i don’t know how much…” she says. “distract me. how was the game?”

“106-88,” he tells her. “easy. they were weak.”

“then why’d you let them get 88 points?” she teases with a small smile.

he stares at her, his gaze heartbroken.

“i’m so sorry i wasn’t here,” he tells her.

“the nurses and doctors have been great,” she says. “they gave me food and water and all the ice chips i could ask for. i’m okay. i was just so scared you wouldn’t make it.”

“i bribed the cab driver to speed,” he admits.

she laughs for the first time in hours.

when the doctor comes to check on her, he tells her she’s still not dilated enough but her blood pressure is getting high, but they’ll keep monitoring.

fifteen minutes later, the doctor checks again and tells her they have no choice but to do a c-section.

it’s all a blur, being rushed to the operating room, prepped for surgery, administered the epidural, feeling the twins kicking her.

once rafe can hold her hand again, he doesn’t let go of her. strangers in scrubs surround her, speaking their jargon, while her strokes her hand with his thumb, whispering to her how much he loves her and how he’ll never leave her side.

their son is born first. they clean him up while delivering their daughter, and when she feels her children resting on her bare chest, she cries in pure disbelief.

rafe kisses her forehead, calling her perfect, their babies perfect, promising that he’ll never leave their side. he can’t believe how close he was to missing this. he’d never forgive himself if he did.

they move to a recovery room. rafe feels helpless watching the hospital staff move through the motions, but once she can rest, the twins swaddled next to each other in a bassinet, he feels like he can breathe again.

in that small moment of quiet, he stands by the bed, seeing the love of his life’s eyelids slowly fluttering after living through such a hard process, seeing the two most perfect babies in the world sleeping next to each other, and tears of awe and happiness well in his eyes.

this is wealth. whatever he thought made him feel fortunate and rich before doesn’t compare to this. the three beautiful beings he’s gazing at right now are all that will ever truly matter to him.

[marvelous-slut]

Call Back - Chibs Telford x Reader

YALL!! I can’t lie, I am a hoe for this troupe if you can’t tell from my other works. Like the close friends daughter? Idk it makes me feral. I swear to god I don’t have daddy issues, like I have the best dad ever so idk why I’m like this but here’s this work that has been stuck in my drafts for weeks.

MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY! Age gaps & smut.

You watched the club members make their way into the club house as you puffed on the joint that rested between your fingers. Chucky had kept you company while you waited for them to come back from a run. As much as you wanted to slap the shit out of Chibs when he come through the door, you held back. Knowing you couldn’t risk Clay finding out that one of his most trusted members had been with his daughter right under his nose. Even if through all the rage you felt right now toward him, you’d never want him to get hurt.

While the MC was on a run, you’d realized you’d forgot many of your things at Chibs house the night before they left. He told you were the extra key was through text for you to get them back, a part of you wished you’d never went in. You found your things and as you did, the phone rung. Before you shut the door to leave, you heard a voice mail being recorded and decided to stay and listen. Sure, maybe it was a little bit of an invasion of privacy but you wanted to know who else needed to talk to him besides the club and you.

“It’s Fi. Fillip, I want our family back. Jimmy is gone, hasn’t been here for months. Haven’t heard from him either. There’s no sense in us stayin’ apart now. Let me know when you get this, please.” Family? What family? The only family you’d known Chibs to have was the MC. You cursed yourself for not listening to Clay and Gemma more when they’d talk about the members and their lives. You’d think the feelings you’d had for Chibs through the years of being around the club would have made your ears perk up when they’d chat about him. Maybe it was a detail you’d heard and didn’t care about, as you’d never met or seen him with a woman, thinking it was an old fling. Chucky filled you in once you brought it up, telling you how Chibs had been married before with a daughter. He didn’t know much more besides that.

“You gotta go home, no need for you to be here.” Clay says, throwing his bag on the pool table. “And put that shit out, this place reeks of pot cause of you.” He walks past you, just like you were a stranger in the house. You didn’t know what happened on the run, but it had to be something tough. Clay typically treated you and Gemma both like dirt on his shoes when a run went bad or an issue come up with the club. It didn’t make the coldness he came off with sting any less. The hurt was plastered on your face, you put your joint out in the ash tray and ran out of the club house in tears. Pushing past Chibs as you did. Jax looks at him, confused as to what happened.

“Think it’s somethin’ with Clay. I’ll go make sure she’s okay.” He says, Jax nods his head and follows the rest into the house. Jax cared about you, sometimes both of you thought he cared more about you than Clay but right now he had to fill his role as VP.

“Love,” He begins to say. You turn around, laughing as you did. Between the new found information of him being married and your fathers cold demeanor toward you, something snapped inside of you.

“Shut up!” You yell at him, he’s confused and shocked as you’d never talked to anyone this way before in your whole life. Even if you had Gemma for a step mom you weren’t quick to yell out in anger or use your fists to resolve issues like her, even sometimes being like a dog that keeps getting beat down makes anyone eventually explode. “Don’t you have a fucking wife to get back to?” You ask, Chibs eyes widen. He’s speechless and you take the opportunity to get in your car and drive off from the club. Wanting to be anywhere but here.

_____

You laid on your bed looking up at the ceiling, unable to think of anything other than Chibs. Even your father snapping at you today didn’t hurt like this did. That you were used to, being lied to by someone you trusted deeply wasn’t. It was 12:42AM, not a word from Chibs or Clay. You were shocked that Gemma hadn’t been crawling up your ass to find out where you were. Typically you’d go over to visit before heading to your house but today you just wanted to be alone. Trying to sleep hadn’t worked out in your favor and you’re forced to lay in bed with only your many racing thoughts. Before anything else can cross your mind, you hear a knock at the door. You grab your pistol, not knowing who would be here at this time of night. When you look through the peep hole, you’re somewhat shocked at who you see.

“What do you want?” You ask, opening the door. A part of you was excited that he was here so the two of you could talk, but the anger in you didn’t want to see him at all.

“I want to talk.” He says, pushing past you into the house. You couldn’t lie, it was kind of hot that he asserted himself like this. It was always sexy when he did it, one of the many reasons you liked him. He sits down on the couch and you sit on the other end, looking at him. He was looking at you, almost like he was waiting on an explanation. You chuckled, slapping your hands on your thighs as you did.

“What?” You ask sharply, he leans back into the cushions, placing his hands on the top of his head.

“I listened to the voicemail that you heard, and deleted it as soon as it was done playin’. I married Fi when I was in Ireland and younger, a man named Jimmy O got me kicked out of the IRA and married Fi. Raised my daughter, Kerrianne.” This was a lot to process right now, your head still swimmy from the tears youd shed through the day. “Also, did this to ma face.” He says, pointing at the scars that ran over his cheeks. You sit, listening to everything he’s saying. It sounds like some kind of TV show, how the hell do you get kicked out of a country unless you’re a terrorist?

“Listen lass, I should have told you about Fi and my Kerrianne, but it just wasn’t something I thought about bringin’ up to ya. You make me forget all the bad shit in my life, when I’m with ya I don’t have to think about any of it.” He moves over to sit beside you, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “Fi hasn’t had a hold on me since the day you decided to spill ya drink on me.” You smiled at him and laughed. It was your first night back in Charming after moving away for college, Chibs only faintly remembered you when you were younger but you’d made an impression on him your first night back. Being drunk out of your mind, staggering everywhere and eventually bumping into him and your drink flying all over him. You sigh deeply, looking away from him as you attempt to hold anymore tears from coming out. He turns your head back to him, resting his forehead onto yours.

“I know it’s wrong and I know Clay would put a bullet in ma head if he knew about this, but I love you lass. I can’t help it.” He says, at this moment you don’t need to hear anything else he has to say. You lay your lips onto his and he returns the favor. You feel his rough and calloused hands run up your leg, shivering as the coldness from his rings hits your skin. You let out a soft whimper as you’d missed this familiar feeling of his hands on your body.

“How I’ve missed that noise.” He breathes out, breaking the kiss. You stand up, adjusting your clothes. You don’t know why you did, sooner rather than later they’d be scattered across the floor anyways. You reach a hand out and he accepts, following you to your bedroom. Once the two of you are in, he sheds his kutte and lays it on the desk that sits in your corner. The familiar scent of whiskey and cigarette smoke takes over your senses as he places his lips to your neck, kissing gently and carefully not to leave a mark on your precious skin. Before you knew it, your shorts and underwear were scattered on the ground along with his clothes. You lay down on the bed as he hovers over you, typically you got things rolling by landing on your knees for him but he felt like he needed to make this about you. The beads that hang from his neck are hanging in-front of your face, a sight you’ll never get tired of seeing. You feel his hand sliding to your dripping cunt, he slides in two fingers and you arch your back in pleasure. He would have started off with one, but he knew you’d immediately tell him to add another just like you always did.

“So beautiful.” He says as he’s kissing the inside of your thighs. “So wet.” The kisses, how his fingers curl inside of you, hitting your spot just right it was all enough to send your head spinning. His fingers are buried deep in you, but he’s moving them at such an agonizing pace. Knowing you were going insane and silently begging him to spend up his movements. He leans down to you, placing his lips onto yours. This time it’s messy, almost sloppy but you don’t mind.

“Always takin’ my fingers so well, can you still take this cock just as good love?” It had been a few weeks since the two of you had sex due to him being on the run and you’d longed for this moment since the day he left with the MC for Tacoma. You nodded your head yes, knowing if you tried to speak you’d just embarrass yourself by stammering around. He slides himself into you, your hands tighten around his arms as you feel yourself stretch around him. Once he’s buried himself into you and sees the pleasure across your face, he starts to thrust into you slowly trying to set his pace.

“Fuck.” You manage to moan out, he moves the hair from your face so he can take in your beauty. To the both of you, the sex you had was like a drug. Once never being enough. The first time it happened, he insisted it would be the last as well. The minute he slid himself inside of you, seeing your face and feeling you clench around him he knew he’d made himself a liar. Every-time was sensual, even when it was a quick fuck it was always meaningful.

“You always take me so well, love. Almost like this pussy was made just for me.” He lets out as the grip on your hips tightens. You feel your stomach begin to tighten, your face burning and you know you’re there. He knows it too, pumping into you steadily but harsher. “Be a good girl and let go all over me aye?” The words sent you over the edge, bucking your hips against him to intensify the experience. It sends him over the edge, watching you like you can’t get enough of him and he releases into you. Not worrying wether there was a condom on or not. He pulls himself out, grabbing a towel to help you clean up and get himself situated. You wrap yourself up in a silk robe as you watch him dress, knowing the worst moment of him leaving was coming.

“You know you can stay right? Dad shouldn’t be down this way anytime soon.” You tried your best, hoping he’d give in. He sighs, tightening his belt. He walks over to you, kissing your forehead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow love. I have some things to take care of tonight.”

Chibs rides home, it’s almost 3AM and he’s feeling it as his eye lids become heavier and heavier. He silently thanks God when he makes it inside that he didn’t crash his bike into a semi on his way here from the fatigue. He sits on the couch, staring at the phone. He listens to the voicemail from Fiona once more, thinking of her and the life they had. How they had a shot of getting that back. His mind then went to you, he loved you and he couldn’t shake the feeling. He hated to lie to you, but at this moment he didn’t know which path to go down. Telling you the voicemail and feelings for his wife were gone was better than saying “I don’t really know what to do”. He couldn’t bare the thought of hurting you as he’d already seen how that went earlier in the day at the club house.

He didn’t fear anyone, but he knew it would be tricky with you due to Clay. He knew he’d never be able to boast or call you his old lady. Things would be a secret till the day Clay died, and Chibs didn’t like keeping those. He picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number, praying he’d get the mailbox before he had anymore time to think.

“Hey Fi. It’s Fillip. Just wanted to see if you still wanted to talk.”

[haggishlyhagging]

Mother says the doctor let her hemorrhage all through the night I was born. The pool of blood that splashed around her hips on the rubber sheet until morning is symbolic to me of the life she, and her mothers before her, have bled away for others—making vampires of their husbands and children and leaving their own inner selves anemic and ravaged.

Dad first saw her in the summer of 1923, galloping bareback over the Idaho plains in men's overalls, her hair whipping behind her. Because there were so few sons and so many daughters in the Howell family, Mom helped with the outdoor farm work. The labor was often so heavy and so almost impossibly hard that it made the small, slender girl weep as she did it. Despite that, Mom still preferred it to the work of the women in the house: the endless cooking and scrubbing, sewing, soapmaking, preserving. Just washing clothes was a superhuman feat, boiling water over an outdoor fire and stirring and wringing and hanging and ironing—a two-day chore that had to be done every week by all the women of the house.

Her mother, short and plump and silent, was the first one up in the morning to build the fire, put the bread in to bake, and prepare the huge breakfast, and the last one to bed at night. Mom says her mother was always tired and didn't talk much, but confided to her once that she only wanted to live to get her children grown and then to die. She got her wish. Mom's father, whom Mom idolized, lived through two more wives after her mother died.

Mom filed all this away in her unconscious.

Late one summer night, three years ago, in the kitchen of my house in Virginia where womanhood finally found and claimed me, for the first time my mother looked squarely at what it had meant in her life to be female. On the farm in Woodruff, she confided, the men came in from their work at dark, ate supper, sat around and talked a little, perhaps, and then went off to bed, while the women, who had been up in the morning before the men, wearily washed the dishes (without soap, so the water could be fed to the pigs) and got to bed an hour or two later. I asked her what she thought of her near-perfect father for behaving this way. Her eyes filled with tears and she whispered, "It wasn't fair."

Since that night she has regained some of her defenses against recognizing the blatant injustices of such a system, so when I've reminded her of what she told me that night, she's insisted that she hadn't remembered correctly, and that her father often had helped with the dishes and had not gone to bed leaving the womenfolk still hard at work. But I remember that night in my kitchen and the terrible things that were dawning upon both of us, and I know she remembers what was required of her as a girl. After a bonebreaking day in the fields, she was to drag her exhausted body and her screaming muscles about the kitchen to help the women with the supper and the washing up while the men were allowed—even expected and encouraged—to rest. And despite going to bed two hours later than the men, she had to arise earlier than they did the next morning to begin it all over again. There was no rest for the women—only endless drudgery until the children were reared, and then death.

-Sonia Johnson, From Housewife to Heretic

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Good Father

Dad!Dean Winchester X Wife!Mom!Reader

Summary: Dean has a beautiful wife and the cutest little girl. The perfect family. Maybe it's time to have a real home, too.

Part 2 of A Good Man but can be read as a standalone. This is actually how supernatural ended thank you very much

Warnings: not much, candy cane fluff, foul language. Still minors dni cause I don't want minor on my blog

WC: 2.6k

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while. Why not post it right? I love Dean with all my heart. That's nothing new. Enjoy the teeth rooting fluff cause I don't have the mental capacity to write smut rn :,)

Sleep still covered your eyes as you rubbed them softly. It couldn't have been later than six a.m., or at least what you saw through half-closed eyes on your phone screen when you woke up. You weren't fully sure, you were still processing that you were awake. You hadn't entirely wanted to get out of bed, but the lack of your husband's warmth all but forced you out of the comfort of your covers. Your feet took you to the study first. That's normally where you would find the brothers anyway. But you only saw Sam.

"Morning." You mumbled softly, running a hand over your face as you walked over to the younger Winchester.

Sam lifted his eyes from the ancient looking book in front of him, and he gave you a warm smile.

"Oh, hey, good morning."

You stood beside him, leaning a hand on the table as you looked around for Dean with a small frown.

"Where's your brother?"

"In the kitchen with Rosie. She woke up like an hour ago, so he's making her breakfast." He answered with a smile.

Your own lips irked up in pleasant surprise. Normally, Rosalie— yours and Dean's little girl— would come running to wake you— or both you and Dean, depending who was home at the time. You never minded that she would be up before you since Sam was always up before sunrise, and he loved spending time with his niece. But it did surprise you a bit that Dean didn't wake you at all this morning. Though, you were more so in awe at the fact that he had decided to take care of her that morning by himself.

Truth was, he had been gone a while, almost a week. That had been the longest he had spent on a hunt ever since she was born— five years ago. And your little girl was definitely missing her dad. She loved you, no doubt about it, but the little one was a daddy's girl for sure, but you blamed Dean for spoiling her so much. So she was feeling his absence greatly. She cried almost every night, asking why daddy wasn't there to tuck her in. It broke your heart a hundred times over to see her so heartbroken. When Dean came home last night, she all but clung to him, refusing to leave his side. And you guessed that had carried over to this morning.

"Thanks, Sam." You patted his shoulder and padded through the long halls of the bunker to the kitchen. You held in your breath as you peaked your head through the door and you nearly teared up at the sight.

"You think mommy and Sammy will like these?" Dean pursed his lips, nudging at the tiny human resting on his hip as three different pans with pancake batter, sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs cooked on the stove.

"Uh-huh. It looks yummy." She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder as he held her.

"Yeah, sure does." Dean shrugged, lips pulled into a proud grin at his own work. He always was a great cook.

He stood for a second, keeping an eye on one thing as he moved around another with a spatula and still somehow held a five year-old on his hip. He had his attention somewhere else, so he almost missed the tiny voice in his ear.

"I missed you, daddy." Rosie mumbled, her soft voice almost inaudible against him. Dean looked down at her, his eyes slightly big and his lips parted. He stared at her for a long second before he said anything. He was wondering just what the fuck he ever did to deserve something like this.

"I… I missed you too, baby. Always." He sighed out, his chest aching with an indescriptible feeling as he brushed some loose strands behind her ear, and he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

You were silent for a long minute, lips slightly parted and eyes filled with awe as you leaned against the doorframe to watch the sight in front of you. Dean, still in his pajamas, with his little girl on his hip as he cooked. He was saying something to her, or so you figured since you heard her giggles, her tiny hands bunched around his t-shirt as she buried her face in his shoulder. He was smiling too.

"I'm deeply hurt. Making breakfast without me?" You spoke up, feigning hurt.

Dean turned around, he smiled at you at first but when Rosie started giggling at you, hiding deeper into his chest, he gritted his teeth.

"Ah, busted. Told you mommy would find out." He shook his head, holding back a smile as you approached them.

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. He gave you a shrug with a toothy smile that showed the edges of his canines, and he gave you that innocent puppy dog look. You groaned out.

"We'll talk later." You warned, but your tone was playful. You finally slipped a smile as you stood on the tip of your toes to give Dean a kiss on the lips. He happily leaned down to meet you halfway. And then you kissed your little girl, leaving kisses all over her tiny face.

She giggled, nearly jumping out of her dad's arms into yours. Dean happily passed her over to you, his hip starting to get numb. You held her happily, pressing a kiss to the mess of her bedhead. God, the more this one grew, the more she looked like Dean. The same green eyes, the same freckled cheeks. But she had your nose, and her hair was a shade darker than Dean's, closer to Sam's brown. But you knew that she would be the spitting image of her dad when she grew older.

"Did you help daddy make breakfast?" You asked Rosie, and she nodded excitedly.

"Yeah! I helps daddy make pancakes." You gasped, lips parted to share her excitement.

"Those are gonna be the yummiest of pancakes, right sweetheart?" Dean leaned down, nudging her cheek with his finger. She nodded.

"Alright, little one, go sit with Sammy, we'll bring you out some pancakes, okay?" You told the little girl, and she nodded again, mumbling an 'okay'. You smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before you set her down her tiny feet. She had spent her whole short life in this bunker. You were sure she could find her way around the general area.

"Tell Sammy he's a nerd for me." Dean called out to Rosie as she ran off, chanting that her uncle Sammy was a nerd. Dean was smiling proudly to himself. He was raising her right.

"You're an ass." You playfully scolded him, and he gave you a look of feign innocence. He shrugged at you.

"I ever tell you how beautiful you look in the morning?" He irked his lips at you, resting his hands on your hips as he pulled you close. God he had missed you so fucking much.

"Missed you, too, hun." You leaned up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He tried to hide it, muffle the sound, but he winced when your hand touched his cheek.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you immediately pulled back to look at his face. You hadn't noticed the red bruise on his cheek, on the purple bruising around his eye. You gasped quietly, gently brushing the tip of your fingers over the bruised skin. He scrunched up his face at you, about to pull back, but you shot him a sharp look.

"I'm fine, baby. Just some bruises. You shoulda seen the other guy." He grinned, trying to humor you, but the concern didn't leave your face.

"I don't want to, actually." You sighed softly, your eyes falling to his chest, avoiding his eyes.

You wouldn't say it to his face, not actually. How could you? He never lied to you, from the moment he wanted something real with you he told you the truth. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into with him. Sammy and hunting come with the package— he told you. And you accepted it. All of it. You married him anyway. You gave him a daughter anyway. But God, it terrified you beyond words that he was still hunting. That he still left you and your little girl for days at a time. And that he would come home with new scars and bruises that would last days. But at times— like this one— you feared that neither of them would come home at all.

"Sweetheart…" There was a bit of warning in his voice. He could read you so easily. He grabbed your face, forcing your head up to look at him now. "What is it?"

"You worry me, Dean. Look at your face. I don't even want to know how it looks under your shirt." Your eyes fell to the side, and your chest filled with ache as you tried to say the right words. "I'm sorry, I know I have no right to guilt trip you. But your daughter missed you, I missed you, and we need you, Dean, that's all."

Dean said nothing at this, his face stayed unreadable as he listened to you. And he heard you, he heard you loud and clear. He felt pressure on his chest and a sick feeling to his stomach. Fuck, he had grown soft.

"C'mere." He pulled you to his chest. He rested his hand on your hair, and he sighed softly when you threw your arms around his torso. "You know I love you, and Rosie, so much, right?"

You nodded against his chest. "I know babe, I love you, too."

We need you, Dean.

"Daddy! I told uncle Sammy he's a— a nerd!" Rosie announced loudly when she saw you and Dean again. And you had to hide your smile at the pointed look Sam shot his older brother.

Dean played dumb, his lips falling open, and he clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm telling ya, Sammy, I dunno where she learns it from."

"Yeah, great parenting dude." Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, and he could only snort in response.

"Yeah, well, here's my apology." Dean shrugged, setting down a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Sam with a shit eating smile. Sam pretended to be offended, but he ate the plate in front of him without protesting.

"Alright, Rosie, you wanna eat some pancakes before school?" You set the plate with the smaller portion of pancakes and bacon in front of her and she nodded happily.

"Yes, please!" She excitedly grabbed a fork and dug in, but stopped a second later and looked at Dean. "Daddy can I has syrup?"

"Sure, baby." He practically saturated her plate with syrup and then his own. You shook your head at how alike they were already. You shared a knowing look with Sam and sighed softly, eating from your own plate.

You didn't often have the chance to have breakfast as a family, so you always treasured little moments like this when you had them. And deep in your heart, you wished you had moments like this more.

~~~~~~

"Sweetheart, you in here?" Dean peeked his head into your shared bedroom, his eyes darting around for a few seconds, and then his lips curved up at the sight of you on your shared bed, face deep in your laptop.

"Hi love," You smiled at him, setting your laptop aside to greet him. He happily joined your side, his lips pressing a kiss to yours instantly. "You left Rosie at school, right?"

Your words were stern as was the look you gave him. He pulled back and pouted. You were definitely scolding him for the time he decided to take Rosalie on a drive with Baby just because she asked instead of dropping her off at school.

"'Course I did. No rides in Baby this time, I promise." He smiled at you, and you rolled your eyes.

"Hope so." He saw you reach for your laptop again so he decided to speak again.

Dean thought about it. He thought about it all morning. He drove around town for another hour just to get his thoughts straight.

"Listen, I was thinkin' 'bout what you said this morning.."

You shook your head at him, "I'm sorry, Dean, I know I shouldn't have. Let's just forget about it, yeah?"

"Hey, no, don't do that. Let's not forget about it." You frowned at him, but you didn't respond, so he kept talking. "You're right. I know you are. Hell, I got thrown around so hard, I don't know how I got outta bed this morning. I thought about you, thought about Rosie. Thought about my old man, too."

You frowned softly, resting your hand on the back of his neck, fingers threading through the short hair gently, "Dean.."

"I don't want to be like my old man. I don't want to leave you and Rosie alone anymore, I just can't."

You straightened up, a bit unsure where he was getting at.

"Dean, baby, what are you trying to say?"

"You and Rosie deserve a normal life, a house, all of that shit." Dean breathed out the words, and he held your face in his hands, a tiny smile on his lips. "I want to try it. A normal life. Don't you?"

"I… Dean.." You sighed out softly, attempting to process his words. You stared at him long and hard, and all you saw was love, his green eyes were sincere. "I wouldn't force you to give up hunting. I mean, that's all you've known? And what about Sam? I just—"

"That's exactly it. I'm… I'm so goddamn tired of the life. Don't get me wrong, we save people, hell, we've saved the world, but is that really all worth it if I can't come home to my wife and daughter?" He tilted his head, his free hand was on your thigh, and he squeezed softly. "And Sammy, I know he's tired of it too. He's always wanted a normal life. But he stayed because of me. If I get out, I know he'll do it, too. He's done it before. Who knows, maybe he can find his own pretty girl to marry and have a couple of kids with."

For the longest time, Dean had refused to even consider doing anything else with his life, doing anything better. This was all he had ever known, all he was ever actually good at, right? But lately, God, just lately, he was seeing that light at the end of the tunnel. You and Rosalie were right there. And if you were there with him, the rest of the world could go to hell for all he cared.

"Dean, I love you, I loved you then, hunter and all, and I will love you no matter what. But if you want to settle down.." You breathed out a soft laugh, the words sounding so nice when you said them out loud. You leaned closer to him, a smile on your lips as you pressed your forehead against his. "We'll settle down. A house, normal jobs, play dates, all of it."

"Christ, what did I ever do to deserve you in my life?" He smiled wide, and he pressed a hard kiss to your lips. It was warm, loving.

"Mhmm, so, what would a former hunter do for a living?"

"I'm pretty good with cars aren't I? What do you say? Think I should open my own car shop?"

Your husband as a mechanic? That wouldn't be half bad.

[jelzorz]

188.

Ezran has a go at them both when they get back. Rayla doesn't blame him—most of it is motivated by grief and a kingdom is a lot to lose indeed, but it's also because they were there, they were so close to home, and what were they doing? Runaan is essentially her father, yes, but he'd still killed Ez's dad, and they'd released him while Sol Regem was burning Katolis to the ground.

Rayla would be mad too, if it were her. If the Silvergrove was destroyed and the people closest enough to help were freeing criminals instead, she'd be furious. She makes no excuses, not for them nor for Runaan, who should have known better, who did and killed Harrow anyway, but it's still heartbreaking to see Ez in so much pain and to see the castle that was very quickly becoming home in ruins.

They're camped by the temples now. They still have supplies from their trip and there are civilians who need the space and the bedrolls more. Callum doesn't want to be around Ez right now anyway, not after the screaming match they'd had at the ruins, and as much as Callum had tried to defend them, he knows, deep down, that Ez is right. He sulks the evening away, poking aggressively, guiltily at their fire while the clerics dish out what little dinner there is available.

Rayla leaves him to it in search of something to do distract her from her own guilt and winds up helping Soren and some of the other soldiers pitch tents in the fields as an alternative for something more long term. She's tightening a guy wire when Ez finds her.

"Can we talk?"

Rayla twitches her lips. "Sure."

There's a pause. Ez can't quite look at her and Rayla swings her arms awkwardly, her throat tight. In a rare show of reading the room—or lack thereof, Rayla supposes—Soren makes himself scarce, claiming he needs Opeli to check the stitches on his forehead, and then it's just her and Ez and the distant sound of chatter in the night.

"Are you angry at me too?" asks Ez at last.

Rayla stares at him. It's not what she expected at all. "Why on earth would I be angry at you?" she says stupidly. "You were right. We were closer and we should have come back sooner. We shouldn't have—" She cuts herself off and glance away, not quite able to regret it completely. "I'm sorry we weren't here," she says instead. "You have every right to be angry at us."

Ez shakes his head. "Katolis is my responsibility," he mumbles. "It doesn't matter what you were doing. I should have been here. I never should have left."

"Ez, you couldn't have known—"

"It doesn't matter," he snaps. "I'm supposed to be king. I'm supposed to protect these people, and instead—" He hiccoughs and shuts his eyes. "I should have known something was wrong when Sol Regem didn't show up for Queen Janai's brother. We should have gone looking for him, we should have—"

"Ezran, stop it," says Rayla sharply. "This isn't your fault."

"It might as well be!" snarls Ez. "Why wasn't I here, Rayla? Why couldn't I have done something to stop this? All those people dead, friends, family, brothers and sisters and moms and dads and kids lined up in the square, why—" He cuts himself short, knees buckling, shoulders shaking with every shuddering sob. Rayla's heart shatters for him, and she crosses the distance between them and pulls him into her arms, all of the anger between them be damned. "Why couldn't I protect them?" he sniffs. "Why couldn't I have been a better king?"

Rayla shushes him, her arms tight and steady around his shoulders. "It wasn't your fault," she says firmly. "You didn't cause this. You couldn't have stopped it. You're a good king, Ez, and we need to focus on protecting whatever's left, okay? The survivors. The people who are still here. They need you."

"They need someone better than me."

"No," snaps Rayla, "they need you. A king who ends wars, not one who keeps fighting them. A king who wants his legacy to be a narrative of love. You're going to pull through this. You and the rest of Katolis. It's going to be okay."

"It's not now."

Rayla grimaces. "No. It's not now. But it will be, and you have to believe that. For them. Okay?"

There's another pause. Ez sobs into her shoulder, a child more than a king, and Rayla holds him tight, swallowing her own tears and heartbreak because it's not fair that he should have to deal with that too. She lets him cry for ages because he needs it, because the grief is too big and too heavy to bottle up, before, finally, he raises his arms and hugs her back.

"I heard you and Callum are okay now," he mumbles against her shirt at last.

Rayla almost laughs. "We were always going to be," she chuckles in spite of herself.

"Good," says Ez quietly. "I'm glad there's one thing in amongst all of this that's still intact."

[scoobydoodean]

Okay so in 1.03 Dead In The Water, there's this exchange Sam and Dean have at one point in regards to Lucas—the little boy who watched his dad drown, who Dean connects with during the episode:

DEAN Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died. SAM There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies. DEAN Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please.

And the last time I watched this episode, I went "Oh cool! A little Psychic!Sam Easter Egg." Right? Sam goes through the traumatic experience of losing Jess, and he's tapped into "whatever's out there" (the yellow eyed demon) and he's having premonitions about what he's going to do next. Which definitely makes a lot of sense.

But when I was gif-ing stuff from 1.03 today, I realized that... funnily enough, within the context of this episode we also have some fun stuff relating to the "slightly psychic Dean" posts that have gone around this year... Or if you prefer, Cassandra!Dean. Cassandra, in reference to the prophet in Greek myth, cursed by Apollo to utter true prophecies but never be believed.

Dean often knows when bad things are going to happen in Supernatural. He doesn't have visions—but he has "bad feelings" and makes predictions that turn out to be scarily accurate at times. Of course we can infer that Dean is just good at 1) reading people and 2) understanding how sequences of events tumble one by one in a row like so many dominoes. It's another sign of his incredible intelligence. But it IS fun to think about Dead In The Water as the first indication of Cassandra!Dean.

First, because Lucas has premonitions, and Lucas and Dean are paralleled and connect on an emotional level.

Dean and Lucas have similar traumatic childhood experiences. Both watched a parent die and both lost the ability to speak afterwards:

DEAN You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.

Dean is able to connect with Lucas through their shared traumatic experience. He's the only one who's able to get through to him—and after a short conversation and just drawing together for a while—much to his mom's shock. Dean is able to understand what Lucas is feeling without Lucas saying it.

Second, because Lucas has bad feelings that tell him the locations where the spirit will strike next, but no one listens to/believes him.

...Kind of like people usually don't listen to/believe Dean's bad feelings.

DEAN Anyway. Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake.

Of course, this line is just Dean paralleling Lucas with himself and his own reasons for not speaking, but it must hit home, because Lucas begins communicating with Dean through drawings.

Further, despite Sam also knowing Lucas is having premonitions, when Lucas reacts with extreme distress to the idea of going home and clings to Dean desperately, Sam still... doesn't think it means anything. He thinks the case is over.

Third, Dean has a bad feeling that the case isn't over, and Sam doesn't believe him.

The sheriff had just threatened to arrest them if they stayed in town, so of course going back to town is a big deal. When Dean turns around based on a bad feeling, Sam thinks he's just being paranoid.

SAM But Dean, this job, I think it's over. DEAN I'm not so sure. SAM If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest. DEAN All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt? SAM But why would you think that? DEAN Because Lucas was really scared. SAM That's what this is about?

Dean sticks to his guns, and they arrive just in time to save Lucas's mother from drowning in a bathtub.

[friendlyneighborhoodslut]

𝓲𝓲𝓲. 𝓦𝓮𝓭𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

»𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐍𝐨 𝐕𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲, 𝐑𝐊𝐒«

0:21 ─〇─────3:32

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

“Enemies By Monday” series, part 3.

MASTERLIST

Summary: There's no time to read everything, so they come up with an idea on how to breeze through the curriculum faster.

Warnings: strong language, angst (my god, so much angst), these two never can get along, financial struggles and class conflict.

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓.

Dad, El and I sit around the dining table, silently enjoying the recently reinstated heating. I contemplate asking him how he’d scrounged up the money to pay for it to be turned back on, but decide against discussing bills with El in the room.

"I'm going to be out of town for a while. I need you to stay home and watch your little sister." He instructs, breaking the silence.

I sit up straight from my spot at the dining table, taking a moment to process Dad's words. El glances between the two of us awkwardly.

"What? I have plans all week," I exclaim.

"I don't care, she can't stay home alone," he grunts, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. "I leave tomorrow morning,"

"For what?" I snap.

He drops his spoon in the bowl, giving me an exhausted look. I hold his stare, challenging him.

"A court appearance. Something about the Department."

The defunding, I think to myself. I swallow hard, sipping on my glass of water. He leans to the side to pull something out of the pack pocket of his jeans. "I'll be gone a while. I'll call every day and I've arranged for Joyce to come check on you guys periodically. This is for necessities only," he harshly emphasizes the only, tossing a white envelope of cash onto the table.

El and I share a shocked expression.

"Where the hell did you get all of this?" I breathe, flipping through the crisp twenty-dollar bills. Suddenly, I can guess where the money to turn the power back on came from.

Dad shakes his head. "It was unlabeled, in the mailbox. Christmas came early this year, I guess.”

I make a face. I have a pretty good idea of who left this money in the mailbox.

I sigh. “Dad, tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. You can’t wait one extra day to leave?”

He frowns, shaking his head. He stands up, pushing his chair back with his knees. He drops his bowl into the sink and comes back to the table, first leaning over El to kiss the top of her head, and then me. He lingers a bit, resting his head on top of mine. “Behave yourself while I’m gone, Mantis,” he whispers.

I gulp at hearing the nickname my mom gave me over a decade ago. I almost ask if he’s heard from her since she left to marry another man and replace me with their own kid, but I don’t. The answer would probably cause me more pain than it’s worth.

“Yeah Mantis, behave,” El teases childishly. I stick my tongue out at her and she mirrors my action, face twisted up.

The three of us laugh.

A honk outside the house makes me jump.

“My ride’s here,” I tell them.

“Tell Eddie I said hi,” Dad requests casually, taking a twenty dollar bill out of the envelope and handing it to me. “Go get a coat for you and your sister while you’re in town today, yeah?” I smile and nod, taking the bill between my fingers.

“Love you!” El shouts just as I’m about to close the door. I theatrically blow a kiss into the air and cackle, losing the door.

I practically leap into the van, making Eddie laugh. “Good morning, you’re in a good mood today,”

I eye him suspiciously, that shit-eating grin on his face. I shove him by the shoulder. “Ow! Why?” He whines, rubbing his shoulder.

“Edward Munson. Did you leave your drug dealing money in my mailbox?”

He furrows his brows. “What?”

“My dad found money in the mailbox. Was it you?”

“Wish I could say it was. But you told me no, and I respect that,” he admits with a straightforward look on his face.

My face falls and my heart drops into my stomach. My skin tingles and my head pounds. “It wasn’t you?” I was so sure it was him to leave the money, and the realization that it wasn’t has given me whiplash.

He purses his lips and shakes his head. “Sorry, Princess. But no. It wasn’t me.”

I comb my brain for an answer. Our family’s definitely not liked enough around this town to warrant hefty anonymous donations like this.

“Payment for your charity work with Harrington?” Eddie suggests.

“I doubt it. Payment’s supposed to come after the work’s completed,” I tell him. I shake my head to clear my mind. “Doesn’t matter anyways. Will you take me to the store?”

Steve still has the habit of tapping his foot when he's anxious, just like he did in middle school. As he silently reads through the instructions on a Vocabulary worksheet, his white Addidas create a rhythm that is driving me up the wall.

Tap, tap, tap.

I try to ignore it, sorting through the stack of Biology homework. Cells, genealogy, evolution, ecology...

Tap, tap, tap.

"For the love of God," I snap. "Will you quit?"

His head shoots up from behind the textbook he's scanning, looking at me like a wounded puppy. "I'm stressed out, leave me alone," he complains.

"Oh, poor you. Stress out quieter," I say bitterly, slotting a sticky note labeled Ecology into the final subcategory for Biology.

"I'm fucked, aren't I?" he breaks the silence.

"Probably," I reply flatly, never looking up from my task. I fish out my biology notebook from sophomore year, sliding the papers of each category between the related notes on the notebook pages.

"Do you have this little faith in all of the people you tutor?"

"Nope, just you," I reply, purposely seeming disinterested. I dare to peek up from the notebook, and what a mistake it is. He's staring at me like he's trying to light me on fire with his mind, and I wish he would. I sigh, slapping the book closed. "It's possible, but it's gonna be a lot of work, and honestly I'm not sure you're cut out for it," I admit.

He pauses. There’s that thinking face of his again. "How do we make it happen?"

"Start by proving to me you actually give a shit about something other than girls and popularity, that you actually care about your future," I tell him. His eyes are locked on mine now, and it hurts to hold it but I also can't seem to look away. "Prove that, then if we have to stay up for three days straight to get it all done, we will. You have my word."

We sit in uncomfortable silence, our gaze unwavering.

I will not lose this weird staring contest with you, Steve Harrington.

He swallows hard, blinking slowly and looking away.

I hate you. I think. Asshole.

"I need to do a literary analysis on Fahrenheit 451," he announces.

"Have you ever read it?" I inquire.

He shakes his head. "Have you?"

"Forever ago, wouldn't remember much," I dismiss.

"We'd better get a copy from the library then," he decides, standing up to fish his keys out of his pocket.

"There's no time to read an entire book," I deny, standing up and smoothing my skirt. "Let's go to the video store,"

"The... video store?" he raises an eyebrow.

"There's a 1966 British film adaptation of Fahrenheit 451. We find it, we watch it, we do the literary analysis."

"Genius." he chuckles, pointing at me.

I smile despite myself. "That's me."

We pull into the empty Family Video parking lot, the faintest hints of night starting to creep across the sky. Steve steps out of the car, starting towards the store, but he stops when he notices I'm not following him. He returns, opening the driver's side door and poking his head inside.

"Hey, Genius. Get out of the car,"

I shake my head. "I'd prefer people not see us together in public. They'll think we're friends or something," I insult, sinking further into my seat and looking around for prying eyes.

"Wow," he mouthes. "That's how it's gonna be, huh?"

I nod deviously.

"You realize I have absolutely no idea what this movie looks like, right?" he tries.

"You can read, can't you? Or do I have to teach you how to do that too?"

He looks at nothing particular in the distance, composing himself. "You're infuriating," he says it so calmly, and I'm unsure whether to be worried or impressed. He closes the door and I think I've won, until he rounds the front of the BMW and opens my door. "Quit being annoying and help me find this movie."

I admire his dedication, but I'm all about principle. I cross my arms. "No,"

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Get out of the car," he repeats, more demanding this time.

"No,"

He lunges forward, grabbing my wrists and pulling me upward. I'm unsurprised he's stronger than I am, but I let out a grunt to express my frustration. "Asshole,"

"Yeah, so I've been told," he huffs, arms twisted around me as he straightens me out. My stomach twists and I contemplate biting him to get him to let go, but decide against it when I calculate how many diseases he'd probably expose me to. Instead, I shove him away, fixing my hair. I stomp toward the store, and he follows me like a shadow.

Family Video is characteristically empty for the middle of a Wednesday afternoon. I slither through the aisles, Steve on the other side. His eyes peek over the top of the shelves, eyebrows screwed downward with focus. He's got a thinking face, that's for sure. I stifle a laugh.

A faint bell jingles as someone opens the front door. I ignore it, honing in on the Drama section as I feel I'm getting closer to my desired target.

"Steve Harrington, is that you?" A girl's voice makes my blood turn ice cold. Vicky Carmichael saunters through the aisle, a mess of poofy red hair and a pink shaggy coat. My eyes widen as I realize my biggest fear of being seen in public with him has become a reality. I turn and face my back to them, scanning my finger over the tapes as inconspicuously as possible.

"Vicky, hey..." Steve's voice cracks at the end, and I cringe for him.

"What're you doing here?" she asks flirtatiously.

Someone kill me.

"Looking for a movie?"

Is it a question or a statement, Steve?

"What movie?"

"Fahrenheit 451," Steve says confidently.

Do not subject me to watching you flirt with a girl, Steve Harrington.

"What's that?"

Oh, for the love of God.

I spot Fahrenheit 451 and reach to grab it, maybe a little too fast because I bump into the shelf as I do so. It rattles, loudly, and a part of me dies. So much for flying under the radar. I feel both of their eyes boring holes into the back of my skull.

"It's a movie?" Steve says matter-of-factly. I turn slowly. He shoots me a look that I can’t decipher.

Sorry, I mouth to him, face twisted in despair. This cannot be happening right now. I round the corner and hand him the VHS.

Steve clears his throat. "We're uh, actually on a date, so..." he tells Vicky, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

My body tightens up as I try not to make my surprise obvious. Steve's body feels like a hot iron against mine. Fury rumbles deep inside my stomach. I clench my jaw and force a smile, fighting the urge to run away as Vicky gapes at me.

"Really? You, with her?" She snarks, pointing at me.

I cock my head and I feel Steve tense this time, squeezing my shoulder as if begging me not to start anything.

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" I challenge. The little I do know about Vicky is against my will, as talk spreads fast around this town. I know she’s a part of Steve’s clique, or she was, until she randomly quit hanging out with them a few weeks ago. Her dad’s the CEO of some tech company and she loves to flaunt his money like it’s hers. She falls into the subcategory of rich people in this town occupying Uptown—just like Steve—who think they’re better than everyone else because of their zip code and last names.

Vicky is taken aback. She rubs her hands together. "I just mean... well, aren't you, y'know...on opposite sides of the field? You're just--"

"From the other side of town, right? Not the Upside like all you stuck up rich asshats?" I spit. "Is that what you're trying to say? Poor people can only date poor people?"

Her face twists up. "I'm just saying that, maybe, we should all just stay in our lane, right?"

I press my chin to my chest and take a deep breath. A buzzing behind my eyes floods my vision with a deep reddish-black. I forget all about how angry I am at Steve for his lie. I shrug Steve off of me and step forward, smoothing my hand over the feathers of her jacket. She flinches slightly but allows me to continue, bewildered.

"You know what, Vicky? I admire your ability to be so confidently wrong. It takes guts, really," I speak calmly, looking into her eyes. "Almost as much as it takes to wear this hideous fake coat around everywhere. Did your Daddy spend too much money on your deep-fried hair to get you a good jacket for Christmas?" I pout.

Her lips curl up and she sneers, baring her teeth before spinning on her heels and leaving the store.

Silence lingers for a few seconds, and then, something bizarre happens.

Steve begins to laugh.

It isn't a small laugh or a chuckle, but genuine wholehearted laughter. He doubles over, using the wall for support as he gasps for breath.

I pull him upward just so I can shove him.

"Ow," he says through giggles. "What was that for?"

"I'll deal with you later. Pay for the damn movie."

I sit with a binder in my lap, on the opposite side of the couch from Steve. I haven’t spoke to him since the video store, anger and humiliation radiates out of me and infects the air with tensity. He’s propped up on his arm, watching the emotional end of Fahrenheit 451 with every brain cell he can muster up. His lips part slightly as the screen illuminates his skin in a blue hue. I try not to watch him from the corner of my eye as I write down lesson plans for our last few days. I purposely skip out on tomorrow, instead scratching a big X in its place. I finish it and flick it into his lap. He glances at me, slowly picking up the paper.

“You’re mad at me,” he states mater-of-factly.

“Aren’t I always?”

“Yes, but, this is different,”

I think for a bit before responding, continuing to write on stick notes. In my anger, I write fuck you on a sticky note. “I can’t believe you told her we’re dating. Now everyone in town’s gonna think I have an STD,” I hiss, crumpling up the sticky note and hurling it at him.

He flinches as the note hits his chest and falls into his lap. Reaching for it, he unravels it curiously. He smoothes it over and turns it to face me with a blank expression.

“Really? Very mature,” he says, unamused.

“I hate you,” I tell him.

“I’m sorry,” he shakes his head. “I panicked. I’ve been avoiding Vicki for a month. We went on one date and well, as you’ve seen, she’s… a lot,”

As he attempts to explain himself I continue to ignore him, a strange feeling in my chest. There was one point in my life when I wanted nothing more than for Steve Harrington to tell people he was on a date with me. But that was four years ago and I’ve changed so drastically since then—so has he.

I bite my lip and my eyes burn. Why does it matter what happened when we were 13 and 14 years old? Just two stupid kids that make stupid decisions, right? So why can’t I let it go?

“Hey,” Steve’s voice is soft as he reaches out to me, fingers brushing softly against the fabric of my long-sleeved shirt. I jolt, eyes hollow as I look at him. His usual irritated expression is gone, replaced with one of deep remorse. It’s terrifying. “I’m sorry.”

I feel my throat close and walls go up around my heart. I pull away from him, unsure where to put my eyes.

“No work tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with your family.” I croak, beginning to gather my things.

“I’ll uh—actually be alone tomorrow, too,” he tells me, scratching the back of his head.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I say numbly.

It’s his turn to avoid my eyes now.

“My dad’s got a court appearance in the city for the Station. You obviously know all about that,” I tell him. “So, I’ll need to be home with my little sister the rest of the week. We’ll need to meet at my house until he comes home,”

“You have a sister?” Steve wonders aloud.

I nod, standing to gather my things. Steve scrambles to his feet, a flash of blankets and flailing arms. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. As I watch him fight for his life and lose to a throw blanket, I see him as human for the first time in a long time. He’s awkward and dumb, just like the rest of us. He’s a whole person, with complex thoughts and emotions outside of half-witted banter and detest for me. I’m empathetic to his cause, damned if I’ll let anyone spend a holiday alone.

“You should stop by the house tomorrow,” the words come out of me like vomit; I can’t stop it because I’ve already said it. Now it hangs, heavy and unanswered, in the air. He freezes in place. “It’s inhumane for someone to spend the holidays alone. Even you,” I add some spite to the last part, cementing my position that this does’t, in any way, make us friends, and to hopefully redeem myself from the humiliation.

He fumbles over his words. “Y-yeah. Okay. Sure,”

“Bring your work. We’ll do some to make sure we don’t fall behind,” I add. Keep it transactional, I remind myself.

Steve’s shellshocked expression softens, relieved to return to familiar territory. I’m relieved, too.

“Dinner’s at six. If you’re late I’ll poison your food.” I point a threatening finger at him and he grins stupidly. Something flutters in my stomach.

“Whatever you want, Genius.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

For the requests: Steve has a good relationship with his parents & when they come back from wherever & someone (Nancy/Robin) tells them about the UD & his parents react by calling out every single adult involved. Maybe he got badly hurt, & they were called in & upon finding out they call out Joyce, Hop, Owens & Murray for the way no adult inthese kids lives had any clue about what their kids were going through. Nor were their parents given notice esp bc having underaged kids sign NDAs is not legal nor legally binfing (Maybe all the parents of the party kids are there and get all the info just like the Harrington's)

MY DARLING! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! HONESTLY this one hit different. You know how much I love making Steve suffer and when he has good parents, a lot of his suffering disappears. But it was nice to branch out a bit. Also finally some common sense! KIDS SHOULD NEVER BE SIGNING AN NDA THEMS THE FACTS! Steve's parents are here to fight for everyone so WELCOME TO THE CHAOS OF STEVE'S OVERPROTECTIVE LAWYER PARENTS! - Mickala ❤️

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

Steve Harrington had managed to avoid the hospital for years. Not because he shouldn’t have gone, but because he refused to go.

But this time, he was unconscious, which means he didn’t have a choice.

And now, staring at his parents’ shocked and appalled faces next to his bed, he realized he wished he’d just died, actually.

“This happens…often?” Anne Harrington asked Dr. Owens, who looked like he wished he was also dead.

“It does happen more often than we like. But it appears to be fixed now! Steven has been a wonderful asset to us, which is why we want to make sure he is comfortable and all his medical expenses are paid.”

He handled that well, Steve thought.

“And this is the first time anyone has bothered to call us?” Richard Harrington asked much too quietly.

That was his ‘I’m about to lose my shit’ voice and Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

“I do apologize, we had to deal with enough NDAs as it is,” Dr. Owens replied, not realizing that he was speaking to two lawyers who were about to ruin his life.

Steve let his head rest against the pillow of the hospital bed, sighing.

“At what age did Steve sign his first NDA?”

“I believe he was 16.”

“And did he have a lawyer present?” Anne didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “I can tell you he didn’t. We’re his lawyers and we were not even called. Are you the one in charge of this shitshow?”

It wasn’t often Anne Harrington said a curse word. Steve only ever heard it a handful of times, usually after hanging up with a client who would lose their case.

“I am one of the people who is tasked with this, yes. But if you don’t mind, I need to check in with a few people before I can truly devote time to this conversation.”

“Oh, please. Continue on with your day. Don’t mind us sitting next to our son in the hospital.”

Dr. Owens sighed, knowing this fight was barely even starting, and left the room.

Steve’s parents turned to him.

“How many concussions have you had?”

“Why didn’t you call us?”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Will this happen again?”

The questions were too much, and Steve’s head was pounding. He couldn’t do this right now.

“Hopper.”

“Jim Hopper? I thought he died.”

Admittedly, his parents had been out of town for a while. They didn’t know Hopper was back as of a few months ago, and probably didn’t realize he’d taken over as chief again.

“He didn’t. He’s around here somewhere.”

“He knew about all this?”

“Mom, I love you, but my head is splitting down the middle. I need to stop talking.”

Anne slowly brushed her hand through his hair, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Of course, honey. We’ll be back soon. Do not sign anything without us here, okay?”

“Okay.”

His dad briefly touched his shoulder before they both left the room.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

Until he was woken up by yelling.

Not just any yelling. Richard Harrington yelling.

If he wasn’t chained to the bed by an IV and blood transfusion bag, he would be up and in the hallway.

Apparently, he didn’t need to worry, though.

His mom came into the room, leaving the door open to the hallway so he could hear everything.

“I’m glad you’re awake, honey. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Who is he yelling at?”

“Every adult who didn’t bother to take care of you the way they should. Not just you, but all of these kids,” she said, tone more annoyed by the second.

“I don’t understand.”

“Honey, you’ve been protecting these kids in ways you never should have had to. All these adults who were involved never told any of us what was going on. They let you keep standing in the line of fire, getting hurt, seeing things you shouldn’t have to and never even bothered to call us. You signed NDAs with the government without parents or lawyers present. That alone is illegal, do you understand that?”

“So I’m in trouble?”

“Oh, honey, no. You’re not in trouble. Your dad’s having a few words with the chief and Dr. Owens.”

Steve tuned in to what was being said in the hall.

“I cannot fathom what you’ve done. Expecting these children to save this town, the world, and not even have their own parents know? Who are they supposed to turn to? You? And what have you done to help them? As far as I’m concerned, you should be arrested and imprisoned. If I have anything to say about it, you will!”

“Mom, can you please get him to stop? I know he’s upset, but Hop really protected us a lot, okay? And Dr. Owens was just doing his job.”

“A lot of people have just been doing their jobs instead of considering that maybe children shouldn’t be responsible for defeating actual monsters.”

Well. Yeah, she did have a point there.

“Where is everyone?”

Anne sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand, running her thumb along the back of it.

“The Munson boy is in the room next door, he’ll be okay. Robin is home with her parents. Most of the kids are now with their parents, but that Sinclair boy is still being watched for concussion symptoms.”

Steve sighed with relief.

No one was lost. Everyone had pretty minor injuries. Maybe he was able to protect everyone.

“That Dustin boy is relentless,” Anne said with a smile. “He really looks up to you.”

“Yeah, he’s like a brother to me.”

“His mom didn’t know about any of this either, did she?”

Steve thought about it.

Honestly, she probably had some idea. Maybe not of the real details, but she had to know Dustin was involved in something he couldn’t talk about. Same with most of the parents.

But Steve’s parents were gone a lot. Their main office was in Boston, and they would often have to travel around the country for their clients. He was used to not seeing them, only getting to talk to them on the phone once or twice a week.

It’s easy to hide shit over the phone, and when they did manage to make it home, the Upside Down monsters were safely tucked away underground.

They had no way of knowing anything was wrong. He did it on purpose, just like all of the kids did.

Even without signing the NDAs, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t have told their parents.

“I think we just thought we were protecting you guys.”

“Honey, it’s not your job to protect us. It’s our job to protect you.”

She looked so sad.

Steve didn’t want her to be sad.

“Mom, you couldn’t have done anything. And we’re all safe.”

His dad walked in the room, face red. He closed the door behind him and ran his hand over his face.

“Doctor said Steve can go when the nurse comes to disconnect him from everything soon,” he said, coming to sit in the chair by his bed.

“That’s good news. We’ll get you home and settled. We canceled our flight out so we can stick around for a while and make sure you’re okay,” Anne said with a smile.

“You guys don’t have to cancel your trip. Your clients need you.”

“Not as much as you need us, son,” Richard said, giving him a soft smile.

“I’ve handled it before, though.”

“And you shouldn’t have. Trust me, this town, the government, they’ve got a shit storm coming and I’m leading it,” his dad huffed.

A knock interrupted Steve’s response, the door opening slightly before they answered.

Eddie.

“Steve? You okay?”

Steve’s parents looked at the door, then back at Steve, who was doing his best to hide the fond smile on his face.

It wasn’t working though, not when he saw the way Eddie was trying to take inventory of his injuries from across the room.

“You can come in, Eds.”

“Who’s this, honey?” Anne asked.

“This is Eddie.”

“Oh! You poor thing. I heard all about what you’ve been through. Let me just say, if we had caught wind of it earlier and knew you were Steve’s friend, we would’ve been representing you in court,” Anne rushed to say, her hands fluttering over Eddie’s when he got next to the bed.

Eddie’s wide eyes would have been amusing if Steve didn’t worry that he might run for the hills at the care his parents showed.

“Uh. Thank you?”

“Do you need anything right now? Do your parents need anything?” Richard asked, sitting forward in his chair, business face on.

“Um, just me and my uncle, but no. I’m heading home, but wanted to check on Steve before I go.”

“Of course! You guys are close friends?”

It was an innocent question. His parents just liked to know who was in his life, that’s all. But Eddie looked at him with panic written all over his face.

Steve gave him a small smile, then turned to his parents.

“Actually, he’s my boyfriend.”

They were quiet for a moment, which Steve expected. No matter how well he thought they’d take it, he knew it would be a shock.

But his parents didn’t let him down.

“How long have you been together, Steve?”

“Since March. Four months?” He watched as Eddie started to back away, probably expecting the worst.

Anne smacked Steve’s arm, forgetting for a moment that he was in the hospital for a reason.

“Sorry,” she said before crossing her arms. “You’ve had a boyfriend for four months and didn’t tell us? We could have come back and arranged dinner to meet him. I’m so sorry our son is rude, Eddie. He wasn’t raised that way, I assure you.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped.

“Um. What’s happening right now?”

“We’ll be home for a while to make sure Steve is alright. We’d love to have you over for dinner soon. With your uncle if you’d like,” Richard added as Eddie just stared between them.

“What do you like? I just got a new cookbook that has so many European dishes I want to try. Are you a fan of Polish food? You know what, no, what about Greek? We haven’t had good Greek food in so long.”

Steve was laughing, he couldn’t help it.

“Steve, what the hell is going on here?”

“Eddie, that’s my mom, Anne, and my dad, Richard. They’re kind of the best, and apparently they want you and Wayne to come for dinner. Think you can find time in your schedule?”

“Uh.”

“Oh dear. Do you have a concussion? They should monitor you kids better,” Anne worried, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks and look in his eyes. “Should I get a nurse?”

“No, mom, he’s okay. He just expected you two to freak out.”

“About what?”

“The fact he’s a man.”

“Oh! I do suppose that’s a reasonable concern.”

“Eddie, let me ask you this: do you make Steve happy?” Richard asked.

“I think so.”

“And he makes you happy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then it sounds like we have no reason to be upset. Now, dinner? Maybe tomorrow night?”

“Okay.”

Steve laughed loudly.

“Eds, come here,” Steve gestured for him to come closer.

Eddie moved next to the bed, his arm bandaged, and a new cut with stitches in it on his forehead.

“Closer.”

Eddie leaned in.

Steve leaned up and kissed his lips. Just a quick peck, just enough to get the point across that this was really okay and really happening.

“Tomorrow at 6?” Steve asked before he pulled away completely.

Eddie nodded.

“And please bring your uncle, we need to discuss our plan for a lawsuit on behalf of all of you,” Richard spoke up from his chair.

“Oh. Yes, sir.” Eddie pulled away from the bed, nervously playing with his rings.

“Richard is fine, son.”

Eddie was blushing, which Steve was absolutely going to make fun of him for later.

“See you tomorrow, then?” Eddie asked awkwardly.

“Love you, Eds.”

“Oh. Uh. Yep. Love you too, Stevie.”

He raced out of the room, leaving Steve and Anne laughing quietly.

“Poor boy. Didn’t know what to do, did he?”

“No, I think he isn’t used to a positive reaction when people find out about him.”

“His uncle knows about you two, though, right?”

“Yeah, Wayne’s been great.”

“Good. Well, I’m going to find a nurse so we can go home. You should be comfortable in your own bed.”

“And I am going to make a quick call to my buddy in Chicago to see if he can pull some information on this Owens guy. We have a lot of work to do.”

Steve was used to this. For some kids, maybe this wasn’t good parenting. Maybe his parents being gone for a lot of his life had a negative impact.

But Steve never doubted how much they loved him. They still came home for every birthday, every Christmas. They still managed to take a family vacation every year. They gave him everything he needed and most of what he wanted. They supported him through everything, the proof right here in front of him now.