#part of me wants to try to come up with another idea for a slow-burn fic but that's honestly so hard

[halojalex]

the more i read multi-chaptered fics, especially slow burn ones, the more i feel like i lose faith in my own chaptered fic that i have yet to even start

like i don't mean this in a self-pitying way, i just feel like i don't have enough motivation to write it as well as some of the other slow-burn fics i read. it's not even like i don't like the premise, like i feel as though it could be really good if written well, i just don't have the motivation to even start it

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 9. the end

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel leaves overnight for a scouting mission. When he returns, you finally confess your feelings for him.

Chapter Warnings: language, amnesia, slow burn, dry humping, some dead bodies 'n stuff, fluff, feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), piv unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), soft!joel, guns?

WC: 9.1K

Series Masterlist

A/N: Two things. One: I don't have the slightest clue how memory loss works and if what I am about to detail in this chapter is even plausible but if television has taught me anything, nothing is impossible only extremely rare. Two: this is the final chapter and it makes me very sad. I wish I could have thought of more storylines to drag this out but at the end of the day, I feel good about how it all came together and I can't thank quite literally hundreds of you enough for reading this each week. It's kind of insane. So, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Also, if anyone wants to toss some one-shot/sequel ideas my way, I am all ears. Much love.

Two Weeks Later

"Joel," you whispered, your head tilted back into the couch cushion while his mouth greedily nipped and sucked at your neck. His hips were grinding lightly against your center and you knew if you didn't stop soon, you would be in trouble. "I think we should slow down."

"Mhmm," he mumbled in agreement, reluctantly pulling his hand from underneath your shirt.

"You're lucky it's still cold enough for me to wear a scarf," you murmured into his hair. He sighed against your neck, finally dragging his mouth away and sat up on the couch while yet another movie went unwatched on the TV.

"Can't seem to get enough of you," he said with a grin, his arm stretching over the back of the sofa. You rolled your eyes dramatically but smiled, pushing yourself up and fixing your shirt before looking at the TV. "Brad Pitt's in this?"

Joel tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "Think he's the main character," he told you, and you scowled at him but he could tell you weren't actually angry.

"Well maybe if you didn't distract me every time we try to watch a damn movie, I would know that."

The past two weeks had been downright perfect. Joel couldn't be any happier. Now that things had changed between you, he craved your touch constantly. Part of him wondered if it was his way of trying to make up for lost time because you weren't wrong: he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had no desire to leave the house or see anybody. All he wanted was to stay holed up with you doing absolutely everything and nothing. He shuddered to think how crazy he would become when you were finally ready to take things further. Tommy will have to drag him by the collar from your bed for his patrol shifts.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, leaning into his side and tucking your legs underneath you, only half listening to the movie.

"Patrol," he answered while the tips of his ears burned red from embarrassment, like you caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. He was perfectly fine waiting as long as it took until you were ready, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about it. And the fact that he already knew what you felt like, what you sounded like, what made you come undone, worked him up even more.

"How are you feeling about getting back out there?" you asked, tipping your head up to look at him. He didn't seem worried but it was hard to tell sometimes.

"Actually, there was somethin' I wanted to talk to you 'bout," he admitted. "And if you don't want me to do it, I won't. I put you through enough shit as it is-"

"Spit it out, Miller," you said, shifting out from under his arm.

"Now that the snow's melted, I wanna take a couple guys and scout the area for any trace of those raiders," he began, watching your face closely. "I won't go far, but..."

"But?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"But I would be gone overnight. Just one night," he assured you quickly when he saw your face.

"Wouldn't the others have already noticed anything out of the ordinary on patrol?" you asked as anxiety began to squeeze your throat. "I don't understand why you need to go out there."

"'Cause I only trust myself to make sure we're safe," he explained. "If somethin' happened to anyone 'cause I led these assholes to our doorstep, I'd never forgive myself. D'you understand?"

You chewed on your lip and glanced down at your lap as you weighed your options. On one hand, you understood where he was coming from. And if no one else on patrol or guard had yet to see or find anything strange, then Joel would most likely not find anything, either. But on the other hand, just simply leaving Jackson was a risk. And even if Joel didn't find any other raiders, he wouldn't mean he would be safe from whoever or whatever else was out there.

Joel pinched your chin and gently tugged your lip from between your teeth, making you snap out of it.

"Can I go with you?"

Joel's face softened. "No, baby. You don't even remember how to shoot a gun. I can't risk it."

Of course, he was right. "Who would you take?"

He smiled and dropped his hand. "Tommy. Neil. George. Couple others offered, too, but I'm not sure how many we wanna bring. Don't wanna stick out like a sore thumb with ten horses out in the middle of the woods."

You relaxed a bit knowing he would be going with some of Jackson's most seasoned patrolmen.

"Okay," you agreed softly. His face lit up and he leaned forward.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you sighed, looking over at the TV as the credits began to roll. He hooked a finger under your chin and dragged your eyes back onto him.

"Thank you," he whispered before pressing his lips firmly against yours, trying with all his might to pour every ounce of affection and adoration he had for you into the kiss. You giggled against his mouth as he tried to push you onto your back once again, but you playfully shoved his shoulder before breaking the kiss and scooting away.

"We told Ellie we'd meet her and Dina for dinner, remember?"

He groaned as if he were in physical pain and reached out for you but you quickly stood up, wagging a finger at him. He gazed up at you from the couch with his brown eyes all wide and gentle.

"I mean it, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

You blushed and bit your lip as you slowly walked backwards towards the stairs. "You can make it up to me one day."

Joel's gaze darkened and he dug his fingers into the couch cushion. "Just say the word, baby. Anytime. Anywhere."

You laughed and turned towards the steps. "Come on, we should get ready for dinner."

"In a minute," he said as you disappeared upstairs. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will his raging hard on away before standing up and following you.

You inhaled deeply, your body heavy with sleep as you struggled to focus on Joel's voice.

"Sweetheart, I'm leavin'."

With a groan, you rolled over and reached out for him blindly, your eyes still not fully adjusted to the beam of light shining in from the hallway.

He smiled and grabbed your hands, wrapping them around his neck. He felt your fingers dig into the back of his neck and shoulders as you feebly attempted to pull him towards you.

You asked him to wake you up before he left for his scouting mission, so he did as you requested but you were so warm and soft and supple under his touch that he was finding it impossible to leave.

Maybe you planned it that way.

"I'll be back late tomorrow. I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your temple, taking an extra moment to savor it. When he pulled away, your fingers tightened around his neck and you lifted your chin, kissing him with an urgency he hadn't expected from your half-awake state.

"Come home to me, Joel," you mumbled, your eyes squinting at him through the darkness. He pulled an arm from around his neck and brought your knuckles to his lips.

"Promise."

It was so hard to leave but he kept reminding himself he was doing it to keep you safe. Regardless of what Tommy thought, something in his gut told him they hadn't seen the last of those raiders. He brought them into the mountains, and he was determined to be the one to finish it.

"I'm still surprised she let you do this," Tommy said a few hours into their travels. George was leading the group while he and Tommy brought up the rear. The forest was silent, save for the birds just beginning to wake in the branches above. After a long, painful winter, it was a relief to hear the first signs of spring.

"What'dya mean let me?" Joel scoffed, but when he locked eyes with Tommy, who was giving him a look that said he saw right through his bullshit, Joel grinned. "Yeah, alright, it took a little work but she understood."

Tommy nodded and went back to paying attention to their surroundings. They were officially in unguarded territory, the nearest patrol route now miles behind them. The trees had yet to fully bloom so it was still rather easy to see through the woods.

"I think you really freaked her out when you left," Tommy said, "she came runnin' to the house that mornin' in a panic. Thought she wouldn't let you leave her sight again after that."

Joel hummed and turned his head so his brother wouldn't see his smile. He didn't want to worry you, but every time he heard something like that, it reminded him how much you cared, even if you couldn't say it just yet.

"So, you two back to normal now or what?" Tommy pried. Joel shot him a look and he shrugged. "We got a long journey here. We can't talk to pass the time?"

"Yeah, mostly back to normal," Joel finally answered, shifting his weight in his saddle. He could already feel his lower back beginning to flare up. "Takin' things slow. Givin' her as much time as she needs."

Tommy nodded, reading between the lines. "Didn't look that slow the other night after dinner," he muttered under his breath, but Joel still heard him.

"She had a couple drinks, is all," he replied with a chuckle. He scratched his chin as he thought back to a few nights prior when you had draped your arms around his shoulders and your face buried against his neck for the better part of thirty minutes. It was late, all of the families had cleared out after dinner, leaving behind the adults to kick back and cut loose a bit. It reminded Joel of a time before the world went to hell. When he and Tommy would go to a bar on a Friday night, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air while the patrons had to shout over a mediocre cover band playing Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was the first time in a long time he felt relaxed and at ease. He watched his brother and wife across the bar steal kisses around conversations with neighbors, grateful for a night out as Ellie had offered to babysit. He had you at his side, sipping whiskey and making a face before you switched to something else.

As the night dragged on, you got a little closer. Then your hand found his knee under the table and you tilted your head into his shoulder, quietly listening to him discuss the plan for the trip with George. He wrapped an arm around your waist but his focus was entirely on George, too concerned with the map he had spread out over the wooden table. George's wife finally came to collect him, telling him she was tired and he was too old to be trying to keep up with the younger men, shot for shot. She wasn't wrong by the way he stood up and stumbled a bit, leading him towards the door, leaving just the two of you at your table. Once you were alone, your arms snaked around his neck and you tugged him to your lips, your tongue greedily licking into his mouth, the heavy taste of whiskey and gin on your combined breath.

"You sure it was just the drinks? You don't think it had anythin' to do with Angie sittin' two tables over?"

Joel's face flushed and he cleared his throat. It shouldn't turn him on but he couldn't help it. He liked it when you were possessive over him.

"Didn't think it wise to ask," was all he said. Tommy chuckled.

The group made decent time. They had a grid in mind and they almost reached their desired destination by sundown. When morning came, the plan was they would make their way back towards Jackson and cover the northeast quadrant of the map.

As they set up camp for the night, deciding to forego a fire since the temperature was comfortable and they didn't want to risk giving away their location, Neil commented that they hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary so far.

"Not that I mind coming out here, Joel," he followed up quickly, "always a good idea to take precautions and all that."

Joel nodded and focused on spreading out his sleeping bag. "I appreciate you all comin'. Not sure if I say it enough, but I'm grateful."

Neil and George exchanged surprised looks at the unexpected appreciation.

They got an early start the next morning, and as the sun rose higher in the sky and more ground was covered, Joel began to wonder if maybe they would make it back to Jackson sooner than he thought. He really hoped they would. Even if it was just one day, he missed you. He hated sleeping without you. He hated waking up and not finding you curled up against him with your head resting on his chest or his arms wrapped about your waist, face buried against the back of your neck.

He was glancing around the forest, wondering what you were doing right at that very moment when he spotted something orange in the distance. His heart rate picked up and he whistled, catching the group's attention. He pointed through the trees and they all silently slid down from their horses. Checking their weapons, they fanned out and slowly made their way towards the scrap of fabric. As they got closer, Joel could see it was a knit cap stuck in a bush, fluttering in the wind. None of the men saw any other signs of life, each of them silently communicating with hand signals they were taught years ago.

Tommy heard shuffling and he held up his hand, bringing the group to an immediate stop. From his angle, Joel could see that the bush with the knit cap was right outside the opening of a small cave. The way the trees had grown around the rocks, it was impossible to notice it from a distance.

The perfect hiding spot.

He exchanged worried looks with Tommy before they crept closer, his rifle gripped tightly in both hands, ready for anything. The shuffling got louder and clearer and it became apparent that the noise was coming from right within the mouth of the cave. Catching Tommy's eye, he made sure to show him he was putting his rifle away in favor of his hunting knife. He always preferred a silent takedown over wasting ammunition, but just in case it went sideways, Tommy would be ready to cover him.

Joel situated himself next to the mouth of the cave while the other men, spread out amongst the trees, hid and waited. He reached down and grabbed a rock, throwing it about ten feet away to draw out whoever was hiding.

He didn't even need to see it to know what was waiting for him.

When the rock cracked against a tree trunk and he heard the telltale snarl of infected, he tightened his grip on his knife. The runner stumbled out of the cave with a shriek, jaw snapping angrily in the direction of the noise. Joel had run into his fair share of infected over the years. He knew the noise would have drawn the attention of any infected in the immediate vicinity, and when he only spotted one, he almost breathed a sigh of relief.

He took it down silently with a blade to the back of the head, then inspected the body. It looked fresh, the clothes mostly intact. The rest of the men joined him as they peered inside the cave, listening intently for any movement. When they heard none, they began to advance.

The cave wasn't very big but it was enough to house ten men. At least, that's the number of bodies they found, not a single trace of life left.

"Well, shit," Tommy muttered, kicking one of the mangled bodies with his boot. "Guess that hunch of yours was right."

It didn't exactly please Joel to know he was right, but at least it was the best possible scenario. The men were taken out by infected probably within the past week. He counted the bodies five times. Then recounted the backpacks and sleeping bags. Ten seemed to be the correct number. No one was missing, assuming the runner he had just killed was the only raider who had the misfortune of turning instead of dying right away.

They scavenged what they could from the dead bodies before trekking back to the horses.

"Keep your heads up. Don't mean there ain't anythin' else out here," Joel warned.

"The warmer weather must've thawed out some infected," Tommy mused next to him. Joel nodded.

"Probably should warn the others to keep their guard up the next few weeks," he replied. "Maybe add an extra body to the towers if we can."

Tommy nodded in agreement. The winters in the mountains were harsh but at least they saw a decrease in the undead.

"Now let's get the hell home," George said over his shoulder, the rest of the men mumbling in agreement. Joel ducked his chin to his chest to hide his relieved smile. Home.

To say you were happy to see him return was an understatement. It was closer to ten at night when you finally heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch.

"Told'ya I'd come back," he chuckled when you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

"I know," you mumbled into his shirt. His heart swelled in his chest and he closed his eyes, breathing deep the smell of your shampoo. You both had a lot of work to do, essentially starting over and building a relationship from the ground up, but it was moments like those that made him believe everything was going to work out.

"Are you hungry?"

"Nah, just need a shower," he said, dropping his pack by the door and kicking off his boots.

"So I take it you didn't find anything?" you asked, trailing up the stairs behind him. He walked into your bedroom to grab a fresh set of boxers and sweatpants.

"Actually, we did," he began, and your heart plummeted. He saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. "They were dead by the time we got there. 'Bout ten of 'em holed up in a cave. Infected got to 'em first."

"Oh, wow," you breathed, slowly sinking down onto the bed. "Well, at least you have peace of mind now, right?"

"Exactly," he said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the bathroom. "Be out in a minute."

You heard the water turn on and you glanced over at the red flannel of Joel's that you slept in the night before. Even though it was clean, it still smelled like him. You glanced at the closed bathroom door and bit your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you thought things over. The morning he left, you wished you had told him but you were too sleepy and you wanted it to be more meaningful. Then, when you woke up and his side of the bed was ice cold, you felt the dread begin to creep up your spine. What if something happened and you never told him how you felt?

Well, nothing happened. He was home now. Safe and sound. There was no reason not to tell him.

You heard the water turn off and you jumped up to grab his flannel and scurried out of the bedroom, across the hall to the other bathroom, shutting the door.

Joel emerged a few minutes later with his wet hair slicked back wearing just a pair of sweatpants, per usual. He tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and looked around. He noticed the closed door across the hall and assumed you were getting ready for bed so he slid between the sheets with a groan. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the mattress underneath him instead of the unforgiving forest floor before leaning over to grab his glasses and a book.

When you tiptoed back into the bedroom wearing only his flannel, he didn't notice at first. His focus was on the small print in front of him, blinking a few times and wondering if he needed stronger lenses when you cleared your throat. He glanced up and did a double take, his lips parting in shock when he saw his red flannel hugging your curves, the hem falling just below your ass.

You looked up at him and feigned surprise. "Oh, is this okay? I was cold-"

"Yes," he swallowed, immediately cutting you off, "it's okay."

You smiled and made a show of bending over to fix the sheets. Again, he swallowed tightly when he caught a glimpse of your black underwear and he felt his cock twitch. Before you turned around he made sure to be focused back on his book, although he was most definitely not absorbing any of the words on the page.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you peel back the sheets and with a sigh, you tucked yourself in. You glanced over at him, admiring his strong side profile and the way his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"I missed you," you whispered, and he dragged his eyes from his book to look at you.

"I missed you, too."

You caught the way his eyes flicked down to your chest where you purposely left two buttons undone so you exposed a little bit of cleavage.

"What are you reading?" you asked, and he laughed through his nose.

"I've got no fuckin' idea."

In a flash, his book was discarded and you were in his lap, your mouth hungrily devouring his as he carefully removed his glasses and tossed them to the side. He wrapped both arms around you and held you close to his bare chest, his tongue licking past your teeth eagerly.

"You look so fuckin' good in my clothes," he growled, sounding as if it pained him before biting at your jaw.

"I wore your shirts the whole time you were gone," you admitted, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. You bit your lip when you felt how hard he was already. "Almost the whole week. I slept in your bed and-"

"Fuck," Joel groaned, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly plunged his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and grabbed his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot. You could feel yourself tumbling, free-falling into the abyss with the unspoken words sitting heavy on your tongue, hoping Joel would be there to catch you.

"Wait," you gasped, pulling away, but only a little. Your forehead still rested against his as you both panted for air.

"I know, I'm sorry-" he was about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.

"Do you remember all those months ago when I asked how I fell in love with you?"

Joel nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you remember what you said?"

He tilted his head back, lips parted as he gazed up at you, wondering why you were asking him those questions in that moment.

"Yeah," he replied slowly, "I said you're gonna have to wait to find out."

You bit your lip and with a shaky hand, you traced one of the wrinkles next to his eyes. "Well, I found out."

His chest stilled, breath caught in his throat as he processed your words. His eyes roamed over your face, hoping and praying he wasn't misunderstanding. When you saw him nervously swallow, you smiled.

"I love you, Joel."

His eyebrows pinched together and before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, he pulled you down for another searing kiss. This time, he went slower. He savored every second, he memorized everything he possibly could about that moment because the way you made him feel hearing those words was unlike anything he ever experienced and he didn't want to take a single second for granted.

"I love you, too," he choked. He could feel you smile against his lips when he pressed his mouth against yours again. "Fuck, I love you so much," he mumbled, his hands falling to your hips, "I'd do anythin' for you."

Your mouth latched onto his throat and you dropped your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants. And once again, you felt his muscles stiffen and freeze.

For a moment, the self-doubt crept in. What if he didn't want to? Was he too tired? Was he not ready? Then his hand covered your wrist and you watched as he slowly dragged your hand up and down, showing you what he liked. Encouraging you to continue. So you did.

His head tipped back against the headboard with a sigh and he squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand and letting you take control. He wanted - no, needed - you to call the shots. You needed to take it as far as you wanted to take it.

When your fingers dipped below his waistband, he tensed.

When he finally felt your soft touch on his cock, he groaned.

It was better than he even remembered. His eyes were still closed as you worked him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spent just feeling him and not seeing him.

"I want you," you whispered in his ear, and his hips jolted as he whined against your shoulder. You wanted him.

When he opened his eyes, he looked absolutely wrecked. You could see that he was trying his best to hold back, trying his best to make sure you were comfortable, that you weren't feeling pressured, that you really wanted it.

But when you sweetly whispered please, Joel, he didn't hesitate. He flipped you onto your back and pulled hastily at the buttons of his flannel while he cemented his mouth against yours. Your hands drifted to his hair and back, pulling and scratching as you went while he finally flung open the shirt. He instantly latched his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.

"So beautiful," he mumbled against your chest. "Tell me again."

You smiled and peered down at him. "I love you."

He breathed a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. His rough hands slid down your stomach, thick fingers splayed wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.

You could hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dipped his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that made it hard to focus but when he slid a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpened. The house could have been on fire but you never would have known because all you could focus on was him.

He dragged his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he went. His lips puckered and sucked at your skin as he pet gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. When he pulled his hand out of your underwear, you made a frustrated little noise that made him smile. He popped his finger into his mouth and you watched, struggling to breathe, as his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned like he had just slipped into a warm bath after a hard day.

"God, I missed that," he whispered, and the look on his face made you actually believe him.

"Joel..." you breathed, plucking feebly at the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Lemme just make you come on my mouth first," and before you could respond, he was shimmying down between your legs and tugging off your panties. When you glanced down and saw how good it looked with his head between your legs, you relaxed and leaned back. How could you argue with that view?

"Oh," you sighed when his tongue first slid through your folds. You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, allowing your muscles to melt under his touch. His hands held your thighs open but he didn't need to bother. There was no possible way you would do anything to stop him. Not when he felt so good, taking his time and expertly lavishing your core with his tongue. And perhaps he was an expert. At least when it came to you, he had five years of experience to fall back on. He surely must have figured out what you liked in all that time.

Your breath was growing ragged and you could feel the heat creeping up your chest. He pressed the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees up towards your chest so he could devour every inch of you, eating messily at your cunt. You pulled your knees back and hooked your hands around each one, your thighs becoming too shaky to hold open with your own strength.

It was a combination of his lips wrapping around your clit and the deep groan that rumbled through his chest that made you come undone the first time. Instant relief flashed through your body and you released your knees, letting your legs fall limply onto the quilt while he eagerly cleaned you up with his tongue.

When he sensed it was too much, he began peppering kisses along your inner thighs, murmuring praise into your skin as he went. You opened your eyes and peered down at him, your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight. His mouth and beard were glistening with your slick, his own eyes remained shut as he mindlessly nipped and kissed your skin, but even from your angle you could see him rutting his hips into the mattress, looking for any amount of friction to relieve the ache.

You reached your arms out to him and he inched up but stopped at your stomach. He sighed and rested the side of his head against your belly, listening to your breath evening out as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. It took you by surprise that he wasn't immediately jumping at the chance to chase his own release when it was clear just a moment before he was dying for it. You glanced down at him and smiled when you saw the look on his face, simply content with just holding and being close to you. Carding your fingers through his curls, you heard him hum before pressing a gentle kiss against your stomach.

It might have been that moment when you realized he was right. What you had was special and rare. You could feel it in your bones, the way a look or touch sent a jolt right through you. The way you felt drawn to him, even from the very first day of your accident, you could sense something in him. You had no idea at the time what it was, but you were beginning to understand now.

"Joel?" you whispered, worried he might have somehow fallen asleep. Then you felt it. The first hot teardrop hit your skin and your heart clenched. "C'mere," you said, tugging at his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. And after his arms loosened and he unpeeled his wet face from your belly, you saw the anguish in his eyes. All watery and wide and guilt-ridden.

"I don't deserve you," he said softly, his voice breaking a bit as you cupped his jaw. "Never did and definitely don't now. Not after everything I've done. Don't deserve your forgiveness, let alone your love."

You shushed him and pressed your lips tenderly against his, your thumb wiping away his tears as they fell.

"Don't tell me who I can and cannot love," you said, taking his chin in your hand and giving it a firm shake, like you were punishing him. He chuckled thickly through the tears.

You pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. He groaned when you began to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you noticed with pride that his chest was rising and falling faster than usual while his hips ground into yours.

"Love you s'much," he almost sounded drunk, the feel of your mouth over his skin clouding his mind and mushing his words together.

"Yeah?" you asked before sucking a bruise where his jaw met his throat. "Then show me."

Joel kicked off his sweatpants and boxers with a grunt but when you went to remove his flannel from around your shoulders, he stopped you.

"Leave it on."

Your cheeks flared with heat at the way he looked at you and all you could do was nod and bite your lip.

It felt like time stood still when you first felt him enter you. Like nothing else in the world mattered outside of those four walls. He held your gaze and your fingers dug into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound was the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.

You could see it in his face again and you had a feeling you mirrored his look. It was too intense. Too overwhelming. So much had happened that led up to that moment: all the fear, sadness, laughter, arguments, long talks and shared traumas came crashing down at once. A tear slid down your cheek right when his hips came flush with yours and he leaned down to kiss it away.

"You okay?"

You nodded and wiped another tear away with the back of your hand.

"It's just a lot, y'know?" you sniffled, hoping he understood. And he did.

His eyes glistened and he smiled, his fingers brushing away a few stray pieces of hair from your face. "I know. We've come a long way."

"Yeah," you whispered, blinking back more tears. Your fingertips traced his bottom lip, your eyes flickering around his face, taking in every little crease and dimple. "Kiss me."

He did as you asked, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. Your fingers dug into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. His hand pushed his flannel back, exposing one of your shoulders while your head tilted back into the pillows, momentarily breaking away for air. You moaned softly when he began to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he dragged his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. When he sunk his teeth gently into your shoulder, he felt you clench around him and gasp.

How's that feel?

Do that again.

Tell me you love me.

I love you.

Those sweet, desperate whispers were shared, breathed into each other's mouths, every word dragged out, every touch deliberate and slow. Neither of you in the mood to rush a thing as your fingers tightly laced together next to your head.

His other hand skirted around your back and under his shirt, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it was even possible. He flexed his hips and you groaned when the tip of his cock hit a spot that had your entire body buzzing.

"Right there," you whimpered into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrated on the fire being stoked deep within you. Every one of his powerful thrusts was adding fuel to the flames. Your skin was slick with sweat and you began to regret keeping his flannel on.

"I know, baby. I remember," he whispered, tightening his grip on you. "Fuck, y'feel so good, I can't-"

"Don't stop! Please, Joel, more," you begged, tears welling up and spilling down your cheeks the closer and closer he pushed you to the edge. Your thighs tensed around his waist and his lips kissed the tears away and when you came, crying his name into his skin, he soothed you. He told you how much he loved you, how much he missed being so close to you, reminded you he was right there, that he had you and everything was okay.

Moments later, you felt his body tremble and his hips stutter. In a haze, you loosened your legs from around his waist. His lips captured yours frantically, fast puffs of exhale fanning over your cheek as he got more and more lost in chasing his climax. Your shaking fingers reached up to get tangled in his hair, ensuring his mouth remained firmly planted against your lips, muffling his groans and garbled versions of your name and I love yous, swallowing everything down until he yanked his hips away, spilling himself all over your stomach.

You both broke the kiss and looked down between your bodies, watching as each weak thrust painted your skin with more and more of his release until he finally stilled and shuddered.

After he finally forced himself to stand, he cleaned you up and slipped back into bed, one of his legs sticking out from underneath the covers, still slightly panting for air. You curled into his side, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him, his nose getting buried in your hair as you listened to each other's breaths even out. You quietly told him about a wound you stitched up at work all by yourself the day before and he told you how proud he was of you. You listened to him tell you a little more about his trip, how relieved he felt now that he confirmed with his own eyes Jackson was safe. At least, for the time being.

The last thing you remembered was him telling you how much he hated sleeping on the ground and how much he missed you while his knuckles soothingly dragged over your stomach but all you could think about was the warm glow that radiated from your skin and the delicious soreness between your legs as you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you heard birds singing outside your window. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Spring was coming. You always loved spring. Something about it made you hopeful and calm, and that morning was no exception.

You awoke still wrapped in his arms and his flannel, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, one of your legs slotted between his, enjoying the peace and quiet the morning brought.

"I thought you died," you admitted quietly once he woke, your fingertips tracing over the scar above his hip. "When you didn't come back that day, I was so worried. So scared my last words to you were something cruel and hurtful."

He hummed and said, "Oh darlin', I'm so sorry," then kissed the top of your head.

"Don't be. In a way, it helped me realize how much I care about you," you replied, lifting your chin from his chest to glance up at him. He always looked way too handsome in the morning. It was hardly fair. "Made me realize I couldn't live without you."

He grinned and rolled his shoulder, stretching out his sore muscles. "Well, if that's all it took, why didn't you say somethin' sooner?"

You giggled and looked back down at his scar, the smile slowly slipping from your face the longer you looked at the pale jagged edges marring his bronzed skin. "God, that day you didn't come back, though," you continued, your brow furrowed as you thought, "I had the worst pit in my stomach. Almost like I knew something was wrong, you know?"

He nodded and closed his eyes, letting you talk, completely at ease listening to your voice.

"It probably didn't help I had woken up that morning from the worst fucking nightmare."

"What nightmare?" he asked sleepily.

You chuckled when you thought about it.

"It's not really funny," you explained, rolling off of him and onto your back, pulling his flannel closed as you moved. "It had started out just like this, actually. It was morning, we were in bed and we were talking... about death?" you said the last part as if it were a question. "I was asking you if you believed in heaven and I told you I was afraid we were going to hell." His eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled his head to look at you, waiting for you to continue. You laughed again and shrugged. "I guess it felt like a premonition or something. Really freaked me out, it felt so real."

"What else?" he asked excitedly, sitting up. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"What else do you remember? From the nightmare?"

"Oh," you said, pushing yourself up so you were also sitting. You stared at the wall blankly as you thought about it. "You told me we aren't bad people, and even though I told you we had done bad things, I believed you. Then..." you felt your cheeks flush and he sat forward eagerly.

"Then what?" he urged, and when you looked at him again, any trace of playfulness was gone.

"Then... it got a little dirty but I woke up before anything happened. But I do remember you were on top of me and you said-"

"This is heaven right here?" he finished for you, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Yes! How did-"

"That was no nightmare, honey. That happened," he told you, his voice rising. He thought his heart was going to explode, it was racing so fast.

"What?" you whispered, but Joel was already jumping out of bed and tugging on his boxers.

"C'mon, get up! We gotta take you to see Nick!"

"Wait," you said, buttoning up his flannel as he flew around the room, grabbing new clothes for you both. "Joel, this was a month ago, what will going to see Nick do?"

"I-I-I don't know! But we gotta tell him. Maybe there's somethin' we can do if we know you're capable of -"

"Joel, sit down," you said, cutting him off. He froze, having just tugged on a shirt but his jeans were still left unzipped and unbuttoned. You stared at him until he took the few steps towards the bed and sat down on the edge. "I'll talk to Nick next time I'm at work, but I don't want to barge in there and take up his time. You know this is out of his area of expertise."

He looked disappointed but he knew you were right because he finally nodded in agreement and bit the inside of his cheek while he stared at the floor. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, drawing his attention back onto you.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," you said softly. "If my memories come back, then they come back. If they don't, they don't. All that matters is this... right?" you asked, inching closer to him and resting a hand on his thigh. He smiled and enveloped your hand in his.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, staring down at your conjoined hands for a moment. "You wanna go get some breakfast? Maybe talk 'bout it a bit more?"

"Sure," you replied, then leaned forward, kissing him tenderly before standing up. "I should probably shower, though. Last night got a little messy," you said, tossing him a wink over your shoulder. He smirked and watched your ass sway back and forth in his fucking clothes as you made your way to the bathroom. You turned around in the doorway, one hand on the knob, the other braced against the frame as you looked at him expectantly from across the room. "Aren't you coming?"

All the blood rushed directly between his legs and just like that, his excitement for you recalling a memory was replaced by a very different kind of excitement.

"Hell, yes," he said, standing up and shucking off his shirt as he followed you into the bathroom. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his mouth against yours, kicking the door shut behind him.

Three Months Later

"Can't believe I'm the one teachin' you how to shoot," Joel muttered in disbelief as you walked back from the line of trees where he had hammered a paper target into one of the trunks. "You were always a better shot than me. Almost better than Tommy, and he was in the goddamn Army."

You laughed and shook your head, still finding it difficult to believe that you ever shot a gun before. From what you remember, you were always afraid of guns growing up.

"Maybe I'm a natural, then."

Enough time had passed and the weather had gotten warm enough where you decided it would be beneficial to re-learn how to shoot. You didn't plan on going back to patrol, but in the world you lived in, it was an important skill to have.

You sat down next to Joel on the fallen tree trunk in the middle of a small field about two miles away from Jackson. He picked up each one of his guns and inspected them, making sure they were clean so there wouldn't be much kickback.

"Have any dreams lately?"

You sighed and shook your head. "Just the one about Ellie, and that was over a month ago."

When you woke up one morning from a dream that felt all too real, you shook Joel awake to tell him about it. It was a simple dream, but it felt intense. You had dreamed Ellie sat you and Joel down at the kitchen table, and full of nerves, explained that she was seeing someone. Someone she cared about deeply. You seemed to catch on quicker than Joel because the conversation lead to where Ellie had to point blank explain to him that she was dating another girl. He seemed surprised but not overly shocked, and when he shrugged it off and still maintained that his only concern was her partner treating her right, her face broke out into a huge smile.

After he confirmed it was a memory, you agreed to see Nick. He didn't end up having much insight on what spurred your sudden recollection that day, just as you expected. But much to your surprise, Joel was perfectly calm. In fact, he made a point of thanking Nick and you even saw him smile at the other man.

And it wasn't just Nick you noticed his demeanor changing toward, either. When kids playing in the street bumped into him, he laughed and waved them off. When Jesse proposed to his girlfriend, Joel was one of the first in line to give him a hearty handshake and wished them well.

You weren't sure if his behavior changed because you were so revolted by it in the beginning, or if he was just happier in general, but you didn't complain.

"Alright, so which one d'you think we're gonna use from this distance?" he asked after he showed you his revolver and then his rifle, explaining the difference between each: how they handled, when to use them, when not to use them, and then finally, how to load and unload them.

You gave him a blank look. "The rifle, Joel. I'm not a complete idiot. I've seen movies."

He grinned and holstered his revolver.

"Good girl. Beauty and brains," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't start."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Don't start flirting with me. You'll distract me and I want to take this seriously."

"I ain't flirtin' with you."

"Yes, you are!"

He laughed heartily at your frustrated little pout. "Can you blame me? You're so goddamn cute."

"Joel..." you whined, and he held up both hands in defeat before picking up the rifle.

"Alright, alright. Lemme shoot off a few rounds and you watch my form, okay? Watch my shoulders and where my hands go."

"Okay."

You observed him as he took aim at the target, nearly hitting the bullseye but not quite.

"You wanna give it a shot?"

"Pun intended?"

He grinned and held out the rifle, so you grabbed it and sunk down to one knee, resting your elbows on the tree trunk as you tried to imitate his posture.

"Like this?"

"Mhm," he said, "now take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger nice 'n slow."

Doing as you were told, you inhaled and blinked a few times, making sure your vision was clear and your eye was on the prize. Pursing your lips, you slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger - only to miss hitting the target entirely.

"Shit," you grumbled, sitting back on your heels.

"You got spooked by the kickback," Joel said, "try again, but this time try not to flinch."

You shouldered the rifle and took aim, once again taking a deep breath and focusing on the little yellow circle in the middle of the target. When you fired off your second round, doing your best not to flinch, you clipped the edge of the paper, but you were no where near the center.

"Goddamnit!" you yelled angrily. Joel chuckled and crouched behind you.

"Here. Lemme help you."

He wrapped his arms around yours and pressed his chest against your back, his hands coming to rest on top of yours as he made some minuscule adjustments to your posture.

"Y'gotta be gentle, see?" he whispered in your ear. Your eyelids fluttered but you managed to nod. "Gotta be patient. Don't let her scare you. Think of her as an extension of you. Like another arm."

"Her?" you teased.

He chuckled, his breath puffing against the back of your neck. "Yeah. Her. I'm respectful and careful with all my girls."

"All?" you repeated, leaning into him a bit. "How many are there?"

"Oh, tons," he said, making you giggle. "But if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite."

"A favorite over a bunch of guns? I'm so flattered."

"Hey, now. Didn't you just say you wanted to take this seriously? C'mon, focus up," and you knew he was right so you straightened up and pressed your eye against the scope once again.

Joel stayed behind you, his hands on your shoulders to help stabilize your upper body as you squeezed off shot after shot. His advice helped a little, you were at least hitting the paper, but you weren't getting anywhere near his shots from earlier. He could see you were growing frustrated so when you ran out of bullets, he took the rifle and told you to take a break while he reloaded.

"It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna take a bit to get used to it."

You sighed and slumped forward on the tree trunk. "Yeah, I guess," you mumbled.

For the next twenty minutes, Joel coached you while you struggled to remember all his advice at once. Keep your shoulders loose. Don't flinch. Follow through. Breathe. When you pulled the last round into the chamber and took aim, you expected it to go like all the others so you stopped worrying about it and just pulled the trigger.

"Holy shit, you did it!" Joel exclaimed excitedly. You hadn't even bothered to look, so you quickly brought the scope back up to your face. When you saw the small little circle burning a hole through the paper, nearly dead center, you squealed and quickly placed the rifle against the tree so you could jump into Joel's arms. He wrapped his arms around your ribs and spun you around while you giggled into his neck.

"Told you," he said with a wide grin after he put you back down. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him into you, crashing your lips together, taking him by surprise. He stumbled forward but wrapped a hand around the back of your neck just as you lost your own footing and fell onto the grass, dragging him down with you.

You laughed against his mouth, still peppering kisses all over his face. He braced both arms on either side of you, elbows digging into the warm grass, smile permanently stretching across his cheeks as he soaked up your affection.

When your laughter died down, you pulled away to gaze up at him, your fingers playing with the dark curls at the base of his neck. The sun was shining over the field and onto his tanned skin, making his sparkling brown eyes look like the color of gold. It took your breath away.

"You're so handsome," you whispered in awe, your fingers leaving his hair in favor of stroking the graying stubble dusting his cheeks. He blushed and shook his head, but before he could protest, you spoke again. "I love you so much, Joel. Sometimes it makes me sad to think we probably wouldn't have ever known each other if the world didn't end."

His eyes softened and he gave you a small smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'll always find you. In every life, in every universe. You've got a piece of me," he tapped your chest lightly, "I don't make the rules."

You laughed and laced your fingers together with his. "Like fate?"

He shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. I already told you, sweetheart. We're meant to be together."

You pulled him down for another kiss, this one more gentle. More loving. More intimate. For the hundredth time, you mentally berated yourself for wasting so much time after your accident when you could have been with him like this, being loved and adored and cherished all along. Instead, you both had been searching endlessly for some version of yourself that you weren't sure you would ever find again. But then you realized if you never did, that was okay. Because you got to fall in love with each other all over again, and how many people get to say that?

[whirlybirbs]

i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace

— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟

summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.

You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning. 

In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.

"C'mon! We're gonna be late!" 

This really wasn't your scene.

Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea. 

If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.

Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"

It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase. 

Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.

But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.

After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked. 

He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.

And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you. 

The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them. 

"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"

He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck. 

You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.

"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"

The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived. 

Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here. 

"Ti! It's him!"

The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table. 

You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute. 

Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even. 

Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close. 

That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers. 

It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this. 

I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time. 

But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.

Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.

"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.

You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"

Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next. 

On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life. 

And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.

The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.

"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"

Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks. 

"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."

Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—

You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name. 

He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?

"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches. 

This is too fuckin' cute.

"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"

"H-Hayami."

"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"

Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up. 

"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"

Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.

Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often. 

He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.

A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.

"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"

This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life. 

Hawks brings his visor back down. 

You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement. 

You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"

Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing. 

And scribbling his number on the back of one.

"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"

Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings. 

Hawks is smirking.

"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"

The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again. 

"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors. 

You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy. 

"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"

"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.

"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."

"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back. 

"Oh, hey! One last thing!"

You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.

You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'. 

"You're kidding me."

Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.

"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"

"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"

It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months—"

"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.

Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."

The two of them high-five. 

...They're probably right.

You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.

I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday. 

It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining. 

You chew your lip.

Then, you decide.

You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster. 

"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.

"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster. 

"Ohmygod."

It's ringing.

Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.

"'Ello?"

Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out. 

"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"

Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"

A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."

"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."

Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."

Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.

Until now.

His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back. 

You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver. 

"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"

You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.

"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"

"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."

Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.

"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter. 

"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."

There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.

"I'd love that, Hawks."

This is new for him.

Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants. 

And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over. 

God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.

Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."

He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun. 

"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"

His laugh is warm. 

"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."

"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"

Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation. 

"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.

It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."

"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."

"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."

Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke. 

"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"

"I'm countin' on it."

"Bye, Hawks."

"See ya, chickadee."

You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.

Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"

"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."

Their screaming wakes up Hayami.

As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated. 

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 4

Part 1 2 3 4 5

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: ayo i did it again (rambled). i have no idea where i went with this but it really wENT yknow, but hey you get fluff!!!!!. ALSO (im looking at you cristi) if it wasnt clear this is set, like, pre-show T_T just before ep 1 lmao (ily cristi im just going through it with my writing) | cross posted on ao3

tagging: @arabellasleopardcoat

You did not realize being made a spectacle would be as exhausting as it was. Truly, all you did as your prince brought you to the training quarters of the City Watch, was stand, force a smile and feel their gaze upon you as Daemon instructed them to roughhouse for your (but really his) entertainment. Yet, it felt like you had been running nonstop and only now found reprieve.

Perhaps it was because it was really your mind that was running with the thought of how you snubbed your twin. In truth, you knew Gwayne understood your actions, for he was really the only person who understood you, and yet that was precisely why it ate at you so much. How could you do such a thing to your brother?

At some point, Daemon is too distracted by his sparring soldiers to remember you were there. By the time they began to drink, you gave word to one of the guards and made your way back to the Keep yourself.

You head for your brother's chambers, set on setting things straight. You do not find him there however, and your mind begins to wander. Was he avoiding you? Was he cross?

Upon asking one of his servants, you find that he was tasked with duty from the Lord Hand. Part of you feels comforted by the answer, but then you wonder if the task had something to do with you. You try not to think about it as you head back to your own chambers.

You are ripped out of your train of thought when you hear your name called.

Queen Aemma stands across you, hand on her belly, smile on her lips, "have you come to worry on me, good sister?"

Your back straightens and you clasp your hands in front of you, "my queen. I-I-"

"I do hope not," she stretches, leaning back into her hands, "the last thing I want right now is to have yet another person try to tell me what is best for me and my babe."

You shake your head, turning to your feet, "the last thing I would do is impose my inexperience of child bearing upon you."

Aemma's face softens. She's seldom seen someone who looks as though they suffer more than her. "Excellent."

You lift your gaze.

"Come keep me company then and distract me with tales lacking child bearing."

You are taken aback by the invitation and watch the queen slowly waddle back into her quarters. You delay to realize you should be assisting then promptly rush up to her side. You offer her your arm and she gratefully takes it. She is exhausted by the time you reach her bed.

"Thank you," she sighs, wiping the sweat on her temple.

"Of course," you help her put her feet up. You look over your shoulder momentarily, "have you no one to call to? Shall I call for someone?"

"No," she waves you off, "I merely walked out of the room and looked out of the window for a while. I am fine."

You nod and pull away, fidgeting with your fingers, "is there something I might do for you?"

"Yes," she reaches for your arm, "sit."

So you do.

"And tell me, why on earth did Daemon bring you to the City Watch?"

You freeze upon hearing that.

There is a playful curiosity upon Aemma's features, but you no thin think she asks to embarrass you. Still, you open your mouth and begin to stutter, "h-how did you kno-w?"

She chuckles, leaning deeper into her pillow, "oh, my dear," she rubs her belly, "I am privy to all gossip in the Keep. Tis the only activity one such as I can do in my state. Incidentally, had the opposite been true, it is all the servants speak of—" she slowly reaches for you, pushing your hair back.

You are made acutely aware of the marks on your collar again.

"—how the fragile lamb tamed the ferocious dragon."

You chuckle dryly and stare at your lap. You pick at your nails, feeling your throat tighten, "I tame no one, my queen."

As Aemma looks at you, she thinks again she's not laid her eyes upon someone that looks more pained than herself. The sun was already setting, but the marks on your collarbones were still visible. She wonders if you at least enjoyed yourself when you received those marks. "Perhaps not yet."

You chuckle once more.

"He is stubborn and brash, but he is also loyal and passionate."

"Loyal to himself," you turn to her, "with a passion for deviance."

You are unnerved by the sudden call of your name. Your heart races at her misplaced familiarity.

This might be why you blurt out, "I am no fool."

She straightens up, "I did not say you were."

"I know I am feeble in form, but not in mind. I am a mere piece in someone else's game of chess, but every piece has its purpose, even pawns."

Aemma frowns. Her forehead curls, "and pawns can turn into the most powerful piece."

You stare at her belly.

"The Queen."

You do not tell her it is only true in board games.

"Does it frighten you?"

Your eyes quirk up to hers. Her violet eyes are much softer than Daemon's. She does not clarify, but the way in which she rubs her swollen stomach makes it clear to you what she meant. You rub your own as dread pricks through you, "I do not know how it is possible for anyone not to be frightened."

It is her turn to chuckle.

It perturbs you.

"I will not lie to you," she shifts in her spot, "there is no greater pain in the world than becoming a mother, I think..."

It is mortifying to hear, considering you know how many times Queen Aemma has conceived and given birth. How much more painful it must be, as she remains to have one child. You do not think all your years of pain could ever prepare you for such loss.

"... that can be the most gratifying."

You are taken aback when she reaches for your hand. Her palms are soft, just as her expression.

"I do not presume to know you, but I find that whatever pain I have is eclipsed by love I feel for my babe. Still, when the thought of childbirth gets too much, I retreat into something I loved before my babe."

Your brows furrow.

"Tapestries and tea time," she tilts her head, "and Viserys."

You do not know how to feel as she pulls away.

She rubs her forehead, "even speaking is exhausting when you are with child. Forgive me, but I think I would like to go to sleep now."

You shake your head and stand, "there is nothing to be forgiven. I will leave you to your own comforts," you curtsy.

You roam the candlelit halls as you digest the queen's words. You were on your way back to your chambers, then you remember your brother. You promptly head to his room, finding the door open. "Gwayne?"

Emerge two servants carrying a trunk, greeting you before walking off. Your brows furrow as you watch them. You turn back when you hear your name called.

Your twin walks over, still in his doublet and leather shoes. You begin to get nervous, "you're leaving?"

"Preparing to," he says, eyes falling on your collarbones, "the is still the matter of the tourney."

"Tourney?"

"The queen is set to give birth soon— you must not let that man dishonor you so," he quips through clenched teeth, pulling you into his room.

You are dragged inside and he releases you once you're in front of his bed. He grabs his blanket and drapes it on your shoulders. He gathers you hair and pulls it from underneath, "play dumb if you must."

You knit your brows.

"Bat your lashes at him to have your way."

You tighten the blanket around yourself, "I already have."

"To protect me," he tilts his head, "protect yourself, sister. Put yourself first, always."

You clench your jaw.

"He will be kinder if he believes you to be a bimbo."

You scoff, "must I do such a thing?"

Gwayne narrows his eyes, "he is shaming you purposefully out of spite—for me and our father."

The idea makes you queasy because you knew it was true. Your brother was sensible because he got his sense from you, and yet... you find yourself thinking that is it so farfetched for the prince to simply want to show you off proudly? Even in something like this, you were not even being thought of. "And acting a fool will save me from spite?"

He looks at you the way he did whenever you said something stupid. It offends you because it was not a stupid question. He speaks to you, as if you were four, "if he asks you to wear something compromising again, tell him all your dresses are being washed."

You chuckle dryly, "you honestly think he would believe such a blatant lie?"

"He need not have to," he scoffs, "it's not like he'll go through the trouble of inspecting your closet." He places a hand on your arm, "come. I will walk you to your room."

Something unpleasant bubbles up your throat as Gwayne leads you out. As you exit his chambers, you pull away and choke out, "do you think me a fool, devil?"

He sighs and rolls his eyes, "do not be-"

"Do you truly think that I am slowwitted and senseless?"

Your ears ring because of how says your name. You step back when he tries to take your arm again. Gwayne raises a finger and a brow, "I've had a long day. I do not wish to quarrel."

"And I have not?!" you quip, "answer the question!"

He says your name again, firmer, as though you were a petulant child.

"Just fucking tell me!" you snap.

"Gods!" he wipes his face, "you're acting fucking stupid, I'll tell you that!"

You scoff and shove him with all your might. It barely makes him recoil, but you get your point across, especially when you walk away.

Gwayne sighs and calls your name, following after you.

"I hate you!" you spit back, unwilling to turn back as you feel your eyes begin to water.

"I did not mean it," he calls, quickly coming up to your side, "why would you ask me something you clearly know is not-"

"Then why would you reduce me as such?" you stop in your tracks to glare at him.

Gwayne freezes and scowls back, "why do you think I tell you anything?"

"Stupidity will not save me, you fucking idiot," you blurt back, doing your best to hold back your tears.

"It will fucking save you from scheming rats," he grabs your arms and shakes you gently.

You shake your head as tears stream down your cheek.

"H-"

"Do not make me."

He purses his lips.

"You know I will do it if you tell me to," you mutter, "do not make me."

Guilt eats him whole as you weep. It never gets easier. You'd think that he'd be indifferent to it by now, but he knows the great effort you put in withholding your emotions. It hurts him even more, if anything. He sighs in defeat, dropping his head before wiping your cheeks. He attempts to hush you.

You only further fall apart, "I would be remembered as a stupid, dying girl."

He speaks your name, as if to correct you.

"Please don't leave," you mumble weakly.

"Listen to me-"

"No, promise me you won't le-"

"I am heir to Oldtown," he interrupts, "my place can never be at your side."

"So you forsake me now?"

"Listen," he speaks firmly, "you are my twin sister. There is nothing I have not shared with you, and you know this."

You look down for a moment then shake your head, "I wish you kept a few things to yourself..."

Gwayne releases a breath at your words. He leans down to look you in the eye, "says the woman who bares love bites on her neck for all to see."

You shove him away and tighten your arms around yourself, "ass. That's different."

He rolls his eyes, placing his hands on his hips, "how?"

"I did not chose this," you mutter.

His expression falls. He balls his hands into fists, "I would call our house to banner for you."

You scoff, looking away, "don't be ridiculous."

"An affront to my twin is worse than one to myself," he points a finger to the ground.

"I am his wife," you look back to him.

"And I am a man of honor," he proclaims, "if he kills me, then all will know I died protecting my sister from his malice."

"You idiot," you shake your head at him, "do you think the people would believe the words of a prince or a dead man?"

"A princess."

You stare at him.

"With a tender heart," he takes your arm, leading you off.

You take a moment before responding, "you mean a stupid, dying princess."

"You are not dying," he gives you a serious look.

"We are all dying."

He sighs, "a jolly thought."

"I am dying sooner than you howev-"

"No," he interrupts, "you will outlive me. I will die in battle."

You glare at him, "we cannot both be yearning for death, moron."

"I do not yearn no more than you do," he raises a brow.

You stare at him for a moment. He is in denial. You almost tell him that you still pray the same prayer he caught you praying all those nights ago. You do not.

"You will get better, sister," he says, "I simply won't allow you not to."

You look away, "ever imperious."

His expression slips for a moment as he imagines a world without his twin. It is so grotesque, he cannot bear it. He hides behind humor, "you mean charismatic, dashing, and valiant."

"And stupid."

"And incredibly well-spoken, witty, charming-"

"Shut it."

"-attractive, gallant, seemly—"

You bid each other good night with a smile. Neither of you knew how broken your spirits were after your conversation though, and you never will.

Your head lies heavy on your pillow. You are unsure if you are grateful or resentful that you sleep tonight by yourself.

Meanwhile, Daemon is startled awake by the words of his subordinate. He sets his cup of ale down and chuckles in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at one of the three men he had been drinking with, "what?"

The man clarifies, shifting in his seat adjacent his commander, "you've changed since being wed, my prince. For the better."

The prince chuckles yet again, "pray, tell."

Someone else answers for him, "you have been more gracious during drill training."

Daemon's brows quirk.

"And you have been more forgiving as of late," another blurts.

The first who spoke finally says, "you do not drink with us as often as before. This is the first since you've gotten married."

He scoffs and shakes his head, "so. You think I've grown soft?"

The three immediately straighten up and even manage to muster in unison, "no, commander."

Daemon downs his ale and shakes his head, "I'll show you soft."

The next morn, the queen's words repeat in your mind as you awaken. Retreat in what you love. What was it that you loved? You think of Gwayne, but he is set to leave, Alicent, but you do not wish to burden her with your woes... your father...

Oh... your mother. You could retreat in her.

You sit up and rub your face when your servants enter to wake you.

You lose your resolve to light a candle at the temple at when you realized you'd be dying girl retreating to her dead mother. Pathetic.

By the time your servants are helping you fix your hair, you ask them, "if you could do whatever you wanted for a day, what would you do?"

The servants turn to each other then break into giggles. One says, "I would spend a day with my Gwilym."

You watch them in the mirror as they squeal under their breath.

You turn to your nails. You cannot retreat into Daemon.

After they're finished squealing, the other speaks, "mmm. I might go foraging for fruits and flowers."

You lift your head upon hearing that.

"And if I had my pay that day, I'd buy myself some lemon cake."

Your lips part at the idea, "you absolute wit." You turn to her as much as you could as she fixed your hair, "what a brilliant idea."

She chuckles and curtsies, "thank you, milady."

By the time your ward comes, you're already at the door, eager to greet him.

He examines your smile. His brows knit and belly feels uneasy as you take his arm.

You narrow your eyes at his face, doing your best to distinguish who exactly you were face to face with. You forget if it was Arryk with the longer beard or Erryk. You mumble as you make a face, "Erryk?"

"Yes," he nods, feeling stomach rolls, "how are you, my princess?"

You grin, squeezing his steel clad arm as much as you could, "oh, how good of me to get it right. I am glad to have guessed well."

Erryk chuckles under his breath, "you wound me. Am I not set apart in your eyes?"

You stiffen at his expression. You mistake the softness in his eyes for hurt, which is why you release his arm and begin to apologize, "oh, ser. I do not mean to offend, I-"

Erryk raises his hands, "no, my lady. Twas a jest."

Your eyes widen at the clarification. You laugh awkwardly, "ah... apologies."

"Nay," he shakes his head, "I apologize. I do not wish to cause you discomfort."

You huff and give a curt nod, "then," you take his arm again, "I ask that you humor me today, ser Erryk."

His brows furrow. He is intrigued.

"I..." you trail off, gathering your resolve, "wish to go out and pick flowers today." you profess with a soft smile. You raise a finger, "I am am not a fussy passenger. I do not mind sitting in front or behind you on horseback, but I fear I do not know how to control a horse on my own very well," you look away in thought, "we do not have to go very far out of King's Landing, so if it is not possible to get a horse, I will not complain if we walk."

Erryk finds himself smiling as you continue to justify yourself.

"I would not take very long to pick flowers, but if I do," you turn back to him, "I would not refute you if you think we must away."

He nods at your words, "have you broken fast yet?"

You both walk off. You shake your head, "I have not. But I will be quick!"

He shakes his head, "my brother mentioned that you do not like eating alone. If it be agreeable with you, we can break fast together."

You stop in your tracks upon hearing this, "ser Arryk mentioned this?"

Erryk simply nods.

The thought pinches your heart, "it... it was a passing comment. I did not think it noteworthy."

His brows knit at your expression, "do not be so surprised. It is our duty to care for you."

Care for you. You turn to your feet, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. It takes a moment for you to comport yourself, but then you manage turn back at him and smile, "how the gods have blessed me."

His gut reacts to your smile. He releases a breath to calm himself, "we can pick flowers after breaking fast, my princess."

You gasp, "so you agree?!"

Erryk face falls in confusion.

"You would allow me to pick flowers?!" you pull away, nearly jumping up and down in excitement.

"I..." his mouth hangs low, "I do not allow you."

You tilt your head, chuckling in confusion.

"If you instructed me to bring you the moon, I would do my best to claim it for you."

You laugh. You laugh because you miss his sincerity, for it is unfamiliar. You laugh because you only know the kindness of your brother, who cherishes you dearly, yet ridicules you in the same breath. This is why you say, "do not mock me, ser. It is not a crime to enjoy picking flowers."

You expect him to reply the way your twin does: 'I did not say it was a crime,' but you are taken aback by the novelty of his response. Erryk says, "the crime lies with whom would mock such a gentle soul."

You are glad he does not wait for you to respond, because you did not know if you had anything to respond with.

Erryk is silent as you eat in the solar. At first, it was because he second guessed his offer to break fast with you, as it felt so obvious that he was overstepping. But then it was because he was enamored by you and the great many tales you share of eating with your family, picking flowers with your siblings, swimming in rivers with your brother. He did not expect such a temperate outpour from you. He tells himself that he must do all he can to preserve it.

He is selfish in wanting to forfeit a horse. He knows soon enough his brother will come to have his shift, and he wants to keep all your stories to himself; walking will make his time with you longer. At the same time, he fears your body might give in if you were to walk very far, so he settles that you ride on horseback and that he lead your horse on foot.

He is glad of his choice, for had he been on horseback with you, he would not have seen the way your face shone at the sight of the meadow upon reaching it. The moment is quickly fleeting however, and he soon jolts to catch you when you nearly leap off the horse.

Erryk helps you down and is soon forgotten as you run off to gather flowers.

He follows after you with no sense of urgency. He allows you to frolic to your hearts content while he slowly leads the horse towards your general direction.

"ERRYK!" you gasp in horror. It is so sudden, he releases his reins and runs towards you.

"My prin-"

"We do not have a basket!" you slap a hand on your forehead, "I am doomed."

He freezes at your words, debating if that is truly the cause of your distress.

"I am doomed to pick flowers only until my hands are full," you sigh and shake your head. You frown at him and point, "but just over there I see a hundred flowers I wish to bring back home with me."

Erryk's forehead curls but then he realizes you were serious. He finds himself chuckling before sighing in relief.

You scowl, "and you mock me again"

He chuckles louder, placing a hand on his breastplate, "I do not mock! I merely find amusement in such an issue so easily solved."

You scoff, "pray, tell how would you solve my issue, ser knows-a-lot?"

Erryk belly laughs. He shakes his head and offers his hand, "I will hold your flowers for you."

Any trace of offense instantly disappears. You perk and step forward, "oh! I have been blind!"

He tries to take the flowers from you but then he's frozen in place as you suddenly begin tucking in his beard.

"Indeed," you snicker, "blind as a bat."

You are both covered in flowers when you return to the Keep, him more than you, for Erryk's skill in securing flowers in people's hair was not nearly as good as yours. Most of what he had put in your brown hair had fallen when you reached the gates. The rest are threatened off by the wind as he helps you down the horse. His on the other hand—

You chuckle, catching a flower that slipped from your head, placing it by Erryk's ear, "they should call you the knight of flowers, ser."

He bows, "I would be honored to be known as such."

"Oh, gods."

You both turn upon hearing the voice.

Gwayne looks at Erryk as though he was stabbed on the side, then turns to you, "you've victimized the poor man."

You roll your eyes.

"-held him captive and tortured him with pretty things," your twin points a finger as he walks towards you, "no wonder you could not be found. You were doing evil things."

You shove your brother, but he dodges.

He makes a face, "laggardly fellow."

You turn to Erryk then point at your brother, "why do you delay? Seize him at once!"

Gwayne gasps, placing a hand on his chest, "behold: the cruel princess."

Your upper lip curls, "the ugly thing insults your lady," you shoot Erryk a look, "apprehend him!"

Erryk watches the two of you bicker, unsure if he should, in fact, apprehend Ser Gwayne.

When he does not, your brother says again, "behold!" the auburn haired man gestures vaguely, "your cruelty inspires no loyalty from you— aw!"

You snatch your his ear and pull him down. You drag your brother all the way to a crate and force him down, "I'll show you cruel."

"Do not think— AW!" Gwayne clutches his cheek when you slap him.

"Silence or your torture will be more severe," you hiss, promptly placing flowers you still had on hand on his head.

Though Gwayne grumbles the whole time, he makes no attempt to save himself from the proclaimed torture. Very truly, he loathed it so when you made a dolly out of him, but after you sobbed so bitterly when he fled you one instance when you were still children, he could never stomach the thought of attempting such a thing again.

And— he catches the way your lips tug upward, you only ever smiled the way you did now when you were torturing him. Still, he cannot help his scowl when you grin at him to behold your work.

You pinch his cheeks, "my lovely twin."

Gwayne groans and swats your hands away, glaring as he stands, "I abhor you, sister."

You giggle and take his arm, "and I do so love deeply, my brother."

"Unhand me," he says flatly.

"You cannot command a princess, you lowly lord," you snuggle into his arm.

Gwayne turns to Erryk, "retrieve your thing."

Erryk opens his mouth, but then catches the look on your face. He is powerless against your pup-like expression. He clears his throat, "my shift has ended, ser. I will notify my brother at once to see what can be done."

Gwayne's jaw drops.

You throw your head back in a laughter.

He scoffs, turning to you, "how uselessly loyal you've made him."

"What is the meaning of this?"

You three turn. You pull away from your brother upon seeing Daemon. He is covered in dirt, and blood, and anger.

He glares at you, "why is it I find you here twice, wife?" He scrutinizes the flowers on Erryk's beard and hair, then quips harshly as he turns to your brother, "should you not be waiting on me?"

"Why do you think I am here?" you mutter, not missing a beat. You walk over to him, and he tries to intimidate you with his expression.

Gwayne and Erryk are ready to act but then Daemon's face falters when you grab your skirt and try to wipe some of the dirt off his face.

The truth, of course, is that you were not waiting on your husband; him finding you here was simply a coincidence, but the genuine concern that clouds your features makes it the lie indistinguishable.

He is so wholly bewildered by your gentle touch, he is unable to react.

You release your skirt and wipe his cheek with your long sleeve, "I shall have a bath drawn for you." You take his hand, "come, I-"

He pulls out of your grasp.

You expect him to lash out on you. He does not.

"I have a council meeting to attend."

A line forms between your brows when catch the blood on his armor, "but you are hurt."

Daemon is stoic. He stares at the lone flower by your ear, "it is not mine."

You release a soft breath and nod. A gust of wind makes you aware of the bud by your temple. You pull the flower out of your hair and stare at it for a moment. You show it to Daemon, who spares but a moment's glance at it. He involuntarily pulls his head back when you place the flower in his hair.

You are unfazed by the look he gives you. You secure the flower then swipe the dirt on his chin, "I will make sure your bath is finished after your meeting."

It is your turn to be taken aback. You freeze when he catches your wrist before you pull away. "Wait for me," he mumbles.

You raise your brows.

He does not repeat himself.

You nod slowly, "I shall... after having the servants dra-"

"Your princess requires you to accomplish a task for her," Daemon looks past you, looking between Erryk and Gwayne. He grits his teeth, pulling you toward him, "do it."

You look over your shoulder, "please inst-"

"They know what to do, wife," Daemon blocks your vision, "tis I your attentions must be fixed upon."

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #20

20. Infidelity - Cuckolding // Cunnilingus // Threesome (Logan Howlett x Reader x Wade Wilson - this is for you, that one anon)

You’re at orgasm ten and they aren’t slowing down. 

That’s the problem when you have two not-quite-human lovers: their stamina is fucking insane. Barely any refractory period either. All you can do is hope that you can keep up with them… and that your body doesn’t goddamn give out.

It kinda is giving out, though.

“One more…” Logan growls, moving his way up your prone form like an animal. You choke on the idea of wringing any extra pleasure from yourself. Your cunt is leaking with a mix of cum: yours, Logan’s, Wade’s; a sinful cocktail soaking into the sheets. You can’t keep anything inside you any more. You’re full. 

“Logan, no,” you say, firmly, slapping his shoulder with as much effort as you can muster. He looks down at you, and those soft puppy eyes remind you why you see him as such an obedient dog at times. 

“You okay, baby?” he asks, backing down immediately when he is chastised.

“I’m gonna die on this bed Logan. You’ve made me orgasm my soul out,” you sigh, relieved for your poor pussy that he’s so willing to listen. Next to you on the bed Wade is half-hard again but even he looks exhausted.

“Now normally my rampant machismo would require me to see this through until one of us had jizz leaking out our nose, but for the sake of our pookie here I’m happy to call it a draw.”

It had been so stupid, the lead up to his. The three of you lazing around, enjoying each other’s company and watching a movie. A sex scene had come on and it had got the three of you talking, which had got the two of them arguing. Who did you most enjoy making you come? It was a conversation you didn’t want to get in the middle of but apparently you didn’t have a choice. 

“C’mon, one of us has gotta get you wet and wilder than the other,” Wade had said, walking his fingers along your leg. You’d rolled your eyes.

“I like fucking you both, boys. Can we finish watching Australia now?”

“That means it’s me,” Wade had whispered, and Logan hadn’t wanted to take that lying down. Well… without you lying down, anyway.

So they took you to the bedroom and tried to make you compare. Fingers, mouths, cocks, all of it; and now your poor cunt might have friction burn. At some point it stopped being who could fuck you better and who could fuck you more, eke orgasm out of orgasm from your exhausted body and have you moaning for it. You’re not sure how they can keep going. How have they got any goddamn cum left in them, you’re sure it’s all over your cunt and abdomen at this point.

When Logan runs a gentle finger between your folds you hiss, part because of the sting and part from delight. You’re so high on a cloud of pleasure you can’t imagine anything else now.

“Look at you baby, you’re a mess…” he sighs, gravelly voice full of affection as he sees the canvas they’ve made of your body. If their skin could hold scars they’d be covered in your scratch marks, your bites, your slaps as you grabbed handfuls of muscle and held on while they fucked you. Wade grabs Logan’s hand and licks the mixture of the three of you off his fingers, humming in contentment.

“Is it too much that I like licking stuff? I did it in the period sex one too, is it becoming an endearing habit, or…?”

“If the two of you still have a point to prove, why don’t you fuck each other?” you chuckle, trying to get comfortable on the mattress and only succeeding at having another squirt of come drip from your hole.

Their eyes lock over your body. You’ve set a challenge neither will back down from, and when Logan goes in for a fierce kiss Wade meets it with vigour.

“Good grief…” you chuckle, moving onto your side to watch them go at each other. You’ll enjoy not being the centre of the show for a while.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Give Into The Temptation

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Norris!Reader

warnings: ‼️‼️⚠️⚠️SPOILERS FOR TWISTED HATE BY ANA HUANG ‼️‼️⚠️⚠️, cursing, SMUT

Thank you to @forevercaffeinated-lee for this idea! I hope it meets your expectations <3!

Slight enemies to lovers

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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When I first met Oscar I thought he was cute and he is but my god was he so full of himself.  

Now don’t get me wrong, I love a man who’s confident and knows what he wants but Oscar was not that.

Oscar was cocky, full of himself and sometimes downright disrespectful. I usually let it slide because I didn’t see him often so I didn’t have to deal with it, emphasis on the word usually.

-

I’ve been on the road with Lando so far this whole 2024 season because he had asked me to tag along, he something about missing his twin sister or some bullshit like that, in reality everyone knew that I was here because he liked the way I made his meal preps and not the person that’s currently doing it now.

This is the week of the Monaco Grand Prix and Lando has been out all day with his trainer all day doing whatever the trainer made him do all the while I’m stuck at the condo alone.

I was chilling out on a pineapple floaty in the pool when I heard the front door open. I'd decided that I wanted to play a prank on Lando so I snuck out of the pool and quickly dried myself off before quietly sneaking into the condo. I'd heard rustling coming from the bathroom and that gave me the perfect chance to scare him. I waited against the wall for about 45 seconds before I heard the door open, I waited for a second until I saw a taller figure step out the bathroom and with a big leap I screamed 'Boo' at the man in front of me.

However, I didn't get as much joy from scaring Lando as I thought I would and that was only because I didn't scare Lando. I scared Oscar.

"Ah! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Oscar screamed as I still stood in front of him, placing his hand on his chest as if to slow down his heartbeat.

"What are you doing here?!" I screamed back in total shock and anger that he was here. I mean how did he even get the key? Only Lando and I had a key?

"I'm staying here this race weekend dipshit. You know this." His attitude evident, as always.

"Obviously not, seeing as I'm JUST NOW FINDING THIS OUT!" I shout. I'm so frustrated, I wanted to have a nice weekend to support my brother and hopefully only see Oscar when needed, but turns out I'm gonna be spending the WHOLE weekend with him.

"That's it, I'm going back out by the pool." I scoffed while I dragged my feet dramatically out to the backyard.

-

Back out by the pool, I was laying on one of the lawn chairs and I decided that I was going to try and finish the book I was currently reading 'Twisted Hate' by one of my favorite authors Ana Huang.

While I was reading, I was so deep in thought that I hadn't heard the patio door open and Oscar come out. At least not until I heard a big splash in the water and felt drops of it land on my legs.

"You muppet! I'm reading here!" I shouted as I took the towel I brought out to dry my not-so-wet legs. Oscar looked displeased with me as when I looked up I saw him rolling his eyes at me.

I continued reading in peace and quiet for about another 15 minutes before my timer went off indicating that I should go apply more sunscreen before I get too burned. I let out a annoyed groan because my book was just getting good so I quickly got up and went into the air conditioned condo to the living room to grab the spray on sunscreen, applying it before walking back outside.

Opening the back door, I was quickly met with a sight of Oscar with a towel around his waist and my book in his hand.

"Oscar, put my book down now!" my face just as red as a tomato at the thought of Oscar reading the previous page of the two characters fucking. Part of me didn't want him to know what I read on my free time but part of me wanted him to have read it so that he learns not to pick up and read random books.

"Twisted Hate? I think I've heard of this book." if my face was red before, it must've been a shade of hell right now. How did he know about this book? Maybe someone said it was a good series? Did he know about the pure sex written in it? So many questions flooded my head but before I could question what he meant by what he said he continued talking

(THIS NEXT PART CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK SO PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING UNTIL YOU SEE THE BOLD WORDS! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!)

"Yeah, Jules ends up telling Josh that she was the one that took the painting. Josh was mad at her at first but then they had make-up sex. Turns out he didn't forgive her and 'broke up' with her mid orgasm and kicked her out." My face fell in shock. There's no way this bitch just fucking spoiled this book for me. No, he's making shit up. There's no way he'd know what was going on in the book, someone could've told him about the 'break in'. Oscar loves to get under my skin and this would be a good way he could do it.

A scoff left my lips as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Yeah fucking right. That's a good one Piastri, and to think I almost believed you. Wow, this is a new low for you." I laughed as I snatched my book from his grasp and gathered my stuff. I was going to finish my book in the comfort of my well air conditioned room until my brother comes back and we go out to eat.

(OKAY NO SPOILERS AFTER THIS PART)

-

It had been about 30 minutes since my last interaction with Oscar and I was sitting against the headboard of the bed under the covers reading. I was having a good time in the quiet of the room while reading until I got to a part that eerily started to sound like what Oscar told me was going to happen between Jules and Josh.

I kept reading because I didn't want to believe that Piastri was THAT disrespectful to actually spoil my book for me. Sure enough that Aussie dipshit did in fact spoil my book for me. With an angry grunt I peeled myself away from the book and left my room. I was going to find Oscar and kill him.

I searched the house with so much anger in me I felt like I was going to explode. I finally spotted Oscar still out by the pool except this time instead of being in the water, he was sun bathing. Lord knows he needs it because of how pale he was.

Swinging the patio door open I started yelling " OSCAR JACK PIASTRI!" The volume of my voice and the slam of the door startled Oscar and he quickly locked his phone before chucking it on the lawn chair next to his. "YOU ARE SUCH A FUCKING BASTARD!" A slight smirk plastered on his face as he saw how mad I was.

"Finally get to the part I spoiled for you?" he looked so cocky right now and all I wanted to do was to punch him right in his sexy face. No, stop Y/N don't think like that.

"You're a cunt Oscar. I want to never see you again!" I stomped my foot. I looked like an angry toddler when they wouldn't get their way.

"Oh that's cute. We're rooming in the same house this weekend and in case you forgot, your brother and I are on the same team so that's not happening." I watched as a small laugh left his incredibly sexy and slightly plump lips.

As much as I wanted to be mad at Oscar I couldn't help but want to swoon for him right now. He'd gotten out of the pool not that long ago because his body wasn't wet anymore but his swim trunks and hair were still damp. That nasty smirk still plastered on his sexy face, his damp curls laying in every direction, his perfectly toned chest on display, the damp swimming trunks sticking to his hard cock. Wait, is he hard? Was he watching porn before I came out??

"As much as I'm flattered that you're checking me out, my eyes are up here princess." Oscar called as he snapped his fingers at me before pointing to his eyes when I finally looked up.

Did I just get caught checking out the man I hated the most while I'm trying to be angry and yell at him?

"As if. I- I would never check you out. You- You're the last guy I would want to find attractive." I swallowed the lump in my throat as I watched Oscar slowly start to walk in my direction stopping right in front of me. He was so close I could feel his breath on my face, none of us moved and I don't think either of us wanted to. Oscar raised his hands to rest on both sides of my face, leaning in but stopping right before our lips met.

"Really? So why aren't you backing away from my touch?" He was so close to me and all I wanted to do was have the most rough and dirty sex with him right now. "You hate me right? You know they say there's a blurred line between Love and Hate."

"I" need you "I would never love you" I'm trying so hard not to give into the temptation of falling for Oscar but it's so hard. Oscar might be harder but I don't want to be the first to give in. I left heavy calloused hand on my waist and gave it a small squeeze which caused a pathetic small moan to escape my lips.

"That moan that left your mouth just now says otherwise," Oscar and I made eye contact just before he turned his head to whisper in my ear "just say the word and I'll fuck you 7 ways to Sunday before your brother gets back" His hand slowly sliding down my front before they got to my bathing suit bottoms, stopping right above the elastic.

A whimper left my lips before I could stop it. "Is this fine?" Oscar said as he grabbed my chin to look up and face him, a small nod of approval was what I gave him but that wasn't enough "No princess, I need words. Is this okay with you?" Even when we're so deep in this intimate moment he's getting on my nerves.

"Yes," I said breathlessly as I placed my hand on his and guided him underneath the fabric of my bikini bottoms "I need this, I need you so fucking bad." I whispered as I had leaned into the crook of him neck to leave small and delicate kisses.

A heard a groan leave Oscar's lips as I started to suck the skin of his neck to litter his gorgeous skin with hickies.

"Mmmm, fuck. I need you right now." Oscar moaned right before he smashed his lips to mine. The kiss didn't last too long before Oscar picked me up and threw me over his shoulder and started to make his way to my room and slamming the door once we were in. Oscar placed a hard and firm slap to my ass before tossing me on the bed.

"You're so sexy, did you know that?" Oscar started talking while slowly crawling towards me leaving kisses in his wake, started by my feet "I've always dreamed of fucking you since I met you" left a kiss just below my knee "I've jerked off to the thought of me fucking you in my drivers room, making you scream my name so loud they can hear you in the grandstands" kissed my clothed pussy, causing me to jerk my body up "and the thought of filling you so full you're carrying child." kissed my stomach "I've thought about taking you at so many events." kissed my breasts "I thought about us getting caught while I'm fucking your mouth." kissed the under side of my jaw before looking in my eyes "I thought about us getting married and just fucking like rabbits everywhere I can take you" He kissed my lips before biting my bottom lip

"Do it." I said breathless as Oscar leaned down to kiss my cleavage, the second those words left my mouth I felt him freeze.

"Which part?" He searched my face for an answer

"All of it." In 0.2 seconds flat his lips were on mine in a hungry kiss before he licked my bottom lip for entrance which I happily granted him access to. Our tongues fought for dominance but his ultimately won, as we made out I felt an ache in my core that I needed to get rid of. I bucked my hips up to rub against his hard cock, it didn't last long though as one of Oscar's hands pressed firmly on my low stomach pressing my lower half into the mattress.

"Impatient are we?" A small moan left my lips "Don't worry baby, I'm gonna take good care of you" Oscar took the hand that he had pressed against my stomach and moved it to take off his swim trunks before moving that same hand to undo the knots on the strings on the sides of my bathing suit bottoms. Undoing two double knotted knots with one hand was supposed to be hard but Oscar made it seem easy, and hot. Super super hot. Oscar peeled the bottoms off of me and chucked it to God knows where in the room.

Oscar grabbed his cock and fisted it a few times before lining his tip to my entrance before looking in my eyes once again asking for permission

"Oscar, please fuck me. I can't wait anymore" I whimpered. At this point I don't care how pathetic I sounded, I had a hot man in front of me about to fuck me and I needed him.

That was all the confirmation he needed before he slid his cock so deep in my cunt I felt like I could feel him in my throat. He was big and thick, not too big but my god was he thick. My walls stretched in a delicious pain as I adjusted to his size. A quick tap to Oscar's bicep told him all he needed to know before he pulled out and slowly slid back in. He kept going at a slower pace before I spoke up.

"Oscar," I moaned

"Yeah baby, what do you need?" He leaned in to kiss my collarbone

"I need you to fuck me faster" without a second thought Oscar pulled out and slammed into my pussy, easing the aching throb thats been there for a minute.

My walls stretched with each hard and rough thrust of his cock and I enjoyed every minute of it. Oscar had one hand on my hip and used it to guide my hips up to meet his every thrust. Oscar kept fucking me raw and rough for about another 2 minutes before he abruptly pulled out.

A disappointed groan left my lips at the feeling of being empty but that didn't last long because Oscar ended up flipping me around and forcing me on all fours. I turned half my body to face him and I watched he stood on his knees and aligned himself with my entrance again and grabbed my hips and thrusted his cock in me.

A loud moan left my lips as I felt so full of him again. Oscar set a blistering pace as he rocked his hips in and out of my dripping pussy. Oscar slowly withdrew his cock from my pussy before slowly pushing his girthy cock back in making sure he'd bottom out. Even though Oscar was bottomed out he kept pushing himself deeper in me which caused me to reach behind me to attempt to grab ahold of his thighs in hopes to pull him closer to me to make him go impossibly deeper in my cunt.

Oscar finally started his thrusts up again and was fucking me so hard I'm pretty sure the bed was moving. Each thrust sent my body jerking forward and I felt like I was on fire. I could feel a familiar tightness in my tummy as Oscar keeps his merciless pace going.

"Gonna cum for me sweet girl?" Oscar's hand brushed up my back and rested on my shoulder.

"Mmhmm" was all I could muster, Oscar was fucking me so good I couldn't form coherent sentences. I felt Oscar pull out of me before quickly flipping me untilI I was on my back and he thrusted right back into be with so much force.

"I wanna see your pretty face when I make you cum. M'gonna ruin you for any other man." I can't focus, I'm so close to cumming and I need this release.

"I don't want any other man" I murmured "Oscar, I'm so close. Choke me"

I didn't have to ask twice and the second his calloused hand gripped the flesh of my throat and gave it a gentle and slight squeeze my walls clenched around his cock and my body shook as my orgasm washed over me. Oscar kept fucking me through my high as he chased his own orgasm. I could tell Oscar was close just by the way his hips stuttered against me. I was going to tell Oscar to pull out and to cum on my stomach but before I could say anything he spoke up

"Can I please fuck your mouth and cum in it? Please I need to cum so bad" Oscar whimpered

"Please" was all I said before I watched him pull out and quickly made his way up to my face before he shoved his cock in my mouth and started to roughly fuck it.

He didn't last that long and after a few thrust he shoved his cock to the back of my throat and used my used his hand he had placed behind head to shove my face closer to his body until my nose was touching his skin as he spilled his cum down my throat.

Oscar pulled out of my mouth and watched me as I swallowed all his cum. He placed a kiss to my lips before having to pull away due to my phone ringing.

I picked up my phone and looked at the caller ID "Oh shit, it's Lando" I pressed the answer icon and placing it on speaker "This better be good, I'm reading" I said into the phone

"I'm gonna be back at the condo in 20 so get ready for dinner and while you're at it wake up Oscar, I called him 4 times but he isn't answering. He's a heavy sleeper." I had to refrain a chuckle from leaving my lips

"Okay, I'm gonna wake him and then take a shower. Bye, I love you too." I hung up before turning back to Oscar

"Yeah, I forgot I threw my phone on the other lawn chair." he said as he rubbed the back of his neck "And no I wasn't watching porn, I was watching videos of you being interviewed at movie premieres. I can't help it, you're just so hot." Oscar mumbled as he leaned in to kiss my lips again.

"We have to get dressed Oscar" I mumbled against his lips as I pulled away "I smell like sex and I want to wash my hair so I gotta go now." I got up from my bed and was about to walk towards my bathroom before I felt a firm slap on my ass causing me to jerk forward with a yelp

"I'm gonna fuck you so good when we get back, I hope you know that"

-

I MISSED YOU GUYS (I just posted two days ago) I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!!

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti@dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy

[writingmochi]

part 2

cast: heeseung ✗ fem.reader (ft. the peeps, enhypen, and other idols)

synopsis: when you told your long-term rival and latest hook-up, heeseung, that you are pregnant with his child; you didn't expect said topic to be involved in your rivalry!

genre: romantic comedy, slice of life, coming-of-age, slow burn, drama, rivals since childhood to [redacted], college/university au, pregnancy au, future parents au, fluff, angst, mature content (explicit smut)

word count: 36351 (36.3k) out of 60550 (60.5k)

warning(s): so many curse words!, implication of abortion, rejection, depression, mention of cigarettes, mentions of consumption of alcohol, explicit description of active labor and childbirth, blood, explicit sex, pregnant sex, pretty rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up tho guys), hand job (m & f receive), oral job (m & f receive), dirty talk with pet names (daddy & mama), marking, multiple orgasms, creampies (if there is something that i forgot, let me know)

message of the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

i genuinely didn't expect THAT much attention on the first part! here is the rest and yes, the word count increased by 2k words. thank you so much for the love and support on the first part and enjoy! p.s. all the links will be edited including from the character intro and the first part!

soundtrack | read part 1 first!

3. the heat of lightning is 30.000° celsius

“bro, innie. your stream is starting.” chaeryeong calls out from the couch as the setup of jeongin’s camera and lights are standing in front of her. jimin brought in the snacks and put them on the coffee table right in front of ryujin and minjeong who sitting on either side of you. beomgyu and heeseung follow suit, sitting on the other dining table seats brought to the living area while jeongin is setting up his stream on obs.

you could see—from the mini setup of his—the chat scrolling up as you watched them get familiarized with the names that had come back from when jeongin asked you and the girls to join him on his last stream. his viewers seemed to enjoy it so much that another one was scheduled the next day, which is today after lots and lots of matching up free time schedules. as jeongin sat in between minjeong and jimin, he used his wireless mouse to change the static “starting soon” screen so chat could see all of you on the screen inside the boys’ apartment. the apartment that you’ve been hanging around about for the past month.

jeongin starts with, “ey, welcome chat!”

“WELCOME! WOO!” ryujin’s fanfare sounded as you heard the laughter being thrown all around you.

“since you guys have been wanting to for us to play again together since the last stream we did, well surprise, surprise! here we are!” the others seemed to hype him up as jeongin continued to speak. minjeong playfully slaps your hand as you try to not knock your headset that is lightly placed on your belly and playing classical music—something that heeseung’s mom told you could help with the babies inside you—as none of jeongin’s viewers have noticed your pregnancy bump with the successful oversized maternity top you shopped alongside beomgyu. jeongin continues to greet the chat on today’s stream.

“we did mario kart last time but now we will do mario party. but not just any mario party, courtesy of smosh games: we’re doing reverse mario party where the last place is the winner.”

“finally, (y/n) can win-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP HEESEUNG.” you throw the pillow behind you, right towards him as beomgyu stood up to massage your shoulder, hyping you up while heeseung playfully glares at you.

“also, this is chaereyong’s idea. but we decided to not make this stream another "boys vs girls" type, but more so a mixed group with these wooden chopsticks inside the mug here helps in picking which person is in which team.” jeongin holds onto the mug as he pushes it towards each person, picking up the chopsticks one by one. in a countdown, all of you show the chopsticks you picked together as heeseung find his one marked—the same along with you, beomgyu, and ryujin: making you four a team.

the seating arrangements change as you are seated in between the two boys. you’ve already told them that you might not get too physical as you let ryujin and beomgyu play first, playing as luigi and waluigi, respectively. heeseung can hear how you are encouraging your team to play bad as your arms wrap behind beomgyu’s back, making heeseung feel a little iffy but he is just rolling his eyes watching the two using his switch controllers that jeongin asked him to lend out for the eight-peopled stream.

for the past month, as the two groups got closer, heeseung realized how strong your influence is. maybe it’s because you are used to taking care of children—just like his friends’ childish behaviors are—but your demeanor matches well with all of them. when heeseung heard beomgyu invited you and your girls over, he was taken aback by just how easily both groups can blend in with each other. but then he is reminded of what you said on that basketball court: how you want to have a truce with him. how he is so much more ahead of you that you deviate from the sport of basketball that you still seem to enjoy.

heeseung couldn’t join much of the hangout as he was being brought into the season’s games and competing left to right. the scream of his name from the bleachers rings in his ears as he recognizes a few of his fans and decelis’ fans supporting the team as he checks his phone during the break. he remembers how he caught a notification from jeongin’s stream, pressing the banner to see you appearing on it with him as you play guess the song or some sort of game similar to it. then, he remembered one day after you both came out of the doctor park’s office for your biweekly check-up. a sudden proposition you push to him as you hold your phone with the screen showing a familiar social media.

“i’ll follow your instagram and you follow mine back.”

“why?” he questioned, arms wrapped in front of him with squinting eyes.

“that’s another baby step for us to be like what our moms want it to be. you say so yourself.” you also replied with your own wrapped arms in front of you, letting the flowy cloth be pushed towards your body as he could see the shape of it and the appearance of your revealing bump. heeseung let out a groan as he said his username.

“which is your full name?” you raised an eyebrow.

“hey, it’s for personal branding and it’s rare to have a username to be your name…”

you snicker as you hit the follow button, seeing the three-digit number on top now becoming four.

“really? i’m your 1000th follower?” you playfully grab something out of the chest pocket of heeseung’s unbuttoned shirt, placing it near your heart like a badge of rare achievement.

“i’m honored.” your face scrunches, forcing out a tear that is not showing, making you blame your current stable hormone for that not happening. heeseung looked at the notification showing up, a snort coming out of him as he leaned his head closer.

“for fucking real? you’re asking me about why my username is like that while yours is mu- mune ga-“

“mune ga hachikire-sode, ‘my chest seems like it’s going to burst’.” you answered so quickly it’s like you have talked about it before that it became an automated response, earning a pregnant pause as you tilted your head towards him while he stares towards your vicinity. a small gap in between his lips as time passes by without sound between the two of you before he closes the gap and smiles.

“must be a freaking mitski lyric.”

you snorted out a laugh, wondering why he knows you so well.

heeseung gazes at how his friends and your friends seem to thrive under your hyper-ness, even making ryujin jokingly angry because you were unintentionally supporting the other team, making you let out the pout that he doesn’t expect to witness so much from when the semester starts. and now, as it approaches the end with the new year’s coming alongside the gender reveal party coming soon and the last matches for the tournament near the end of the year. life seems to go so fast for him, yet here you are thriving in it. as if you are influenced by some kind of deity that is making people around you notice and care about your presence, frolicking around as you seem to make their lives a tad bit easier to face with your motherly care and, what he acknowledge, your emotional intelligence.

something heeseung had also grown for the past 3 months since you told him you're pregnant with his kids.

the boy realized just how quiet he was when he sensed your shoulder touching his as you leaned back against the sofa to just stare at the screen of jimin screaming how he had to get another star, making him now in first place. a soft smile on your face as you glance at your friends having fun before you feel the trembles against your thigh when you catch heeseung’s leg jittering from how he is moving his achilles’ heel in a random rhythm.

“you alright?” heeseung looks down to find your hand on top of his pant-covered thigh. you give him a thin lip frown as you let your touch soothe him down, seemingly not minding the entire history you have with him. the boy is suddenly too embarrassed to see you as you watch the redness growing on both of his cheeks. you wanted to tease him about it—maybe it’s the awkwardness cause he was not there when you started to get close to his friends—that is showing up now.

as you look at your hand against his thigh, courtesy of your muscles' memory telling you to try soothing every nervous child in your way, you retreat it back to your space before beomgyu wraps his arm around your back to pull you into his embrace while you see the stars and coins are being tallied up alongside additional stars that are given. beomgyu has both hands around your and ryujin’s shoulders as you follow with the momentum, seeing that ryujin got last place–making your team win the first round of mario party.

beomgyu handed the switch controller to his best friend as the game resets for the second round where it is you and heeseung vs. minjeong and jeongin—said girl is focusing on the chat because she is convinced that she caught sungchan’s username there. your cursor instantly picks at rosalina whilst heeseung moves his to pick bowser. peeking to the side, you recognize the competitiveness that is shown from how heeseung is glaring towards the tv screen as you try to flick that same emotion on in your mind. when you feel it tainting you, you give minjeong a sly wink from where you are sitting. that even though she’s one of your best friends, you’re not taking her lightly.

the second game was a tad bit chaotic as physical play was done when jeongin seemed to make mind games by positioning himself behind where you and heeseung sit. yet, the rivalry doesn’t just create between your team and the other team; heeseung has also started playing dirty when he grabs onto your controller to stop you from failing the task.

“ughh!” you groan out as you hear the laugh coming from jimin on the other sofa, making you answer by covering heeseung’s eyes as he couldn’t see where his bowser was supposed to fell off the platform, proclaiming him to win the match and increase the ever-loving coins he owns, making him have to buy the star if he came across it: only five more spaces to go on the board. the way you hinder him from failing and he does the same to you creates a slapstick that jeongin’s chat seems to revel in as you spot jimin reading the text that is running to the top of the monitor as fast as the light goes.

“woah!” he proclaimed as you noticed chaeryeong snickering from the rapidly moving chat. “people seemed to ship you and heeseung, (y/n).”

“no kidding.” you reacted as you stared at the way your rosalina was three spots closer to the star—no choice but to buy one as you got over 20 coins. your body forces you to stand up as you kneel to see the chat, eyes glancing between four points on the screen of jeongin’s laptop: the chat who is now arguing on who are the “correct” ships within the people here, the screen as minjeong rolls the dice for her shy guy to move, beomgyu who leans back against the sofa’s backrest, and heeseung who is leaning forward to the screen before you caught his eyes for a few milliseconds.

“come on, chat. really? me and heeseung?” you audibly scoffed, glancing at your friends that is showing on the stream a few seconds later from the latency. “what about me and beomgyu? he’s also nice to me.”

“I SURE DO, (Y/N).” he said as you could detect him grinning with two thumbs up before he rested his hands behind the sofa by your empty seat. but you could see heeseung’s very obvious scowl as he didn’t say anything. the determination to lose against you may now be influenced with an even more push—because you did say to him that you’re the one losing in your battle.

“not your mods creating a poll for who shipped (y/n) with whom and the fact that (y/n) x jeongin is pretty high too.” chaeryeong stated as you tried to hold back your laughter. with the knowledge; which you’ve just known as you started hanging out with the boys; that jeongin’s mom is an ob-gyn doctor also, he has let you talk to his mom when it’s jeongin’s turn to “babysit” you—"per heeseung’s request" he said—making you show up on jeongin’s stream more often than the other girls as you and he create a more sibling vibe where he teaches you how to game. with the help of every woman around you including jeongin’s mom, you could say that you can expect what you’ll expect for your second and third trimesters and your birth. how jeongin’s mom and doctor park’s sayings are pretty much similar in a way as they remind you that you have to give birth to your twins before week 40 so that they could fit through your hip bone since you want to do it the normal way.

you were glad beomgyu had invited you to meet up. because you felt like you’d met brand new people with whom you seemed to have a sense of familiarity. like old friends having a reunion.

“WOAH! (y/n) x heeseung is no.1!” jimin reacted as all of you heard the chime of a gift sent to jeongin followed by a text-to-speech sound.

“(y/n) and heeseung’s bickering is something i aspire to have with my significant other.” the robot voice sounds as you watch ryujin’s wide eyes getting larger, knowing your real-life relationship as she has been there the longest as of right now alongside beomgyu who is just holding a subtle sheepish smirk.

“bickering because we aren’t compatible with each other? yeah right,” you give a verbal jab as you can see the comments updating a few seconds later when your words are streamed, making people send the sus emote in the chat column but also a few “opposites attract” and “you can get to know each more” comments as you looked at heeseung. the corner of his lips rose as you gave up on reading the chat before sitting down back to your empty seat. your body was instantly ignited in surprise as you could feel how beomgyu was holding your shoulder, stretching his arm behind your shoulders as you were trying your best to use your special dice to lose. then, you sensed a shift on your thigh as you find heeseung’s moving his against yours, either to distract you… or to tell you something you haven’t realized.

-

heeseung was heaving as the coach took him out of the court to the sidelines to bring sungho in as his replacement. drops of sweat are forming on his exposed forearm while he watches the score of his team nearing 50 in the game's last quarter. sunoo gave him a small towel as he looked to the back to only see none of his friends on the bleachers. other than ryujin, all of them are watching the want2dance crew showcase—you and beomgyu have no information circulating even though his turn to take care of you. heeseung should’ve been ecstatic that he got the ticket for the finale that easily. sure, the rival is strong enough, but with niki now standing as a center alongside sunghoon, they’ve been able to block the shots of the other team with their long limbs and agile jumps.

yet, all he could worry about was how much he had learned for the next appointment with the doula as he was trying to beat you with the advantage you had by the women all around you—including jeongin’s mom he had hidden as a wildcard now exposed to you.

he tried to familiarize his hands with how to hold a baby with a plushy jeongin still owned in his room before he tried using the full 2-liter water bottle he had that was identical to the real weight. heeseung had read the books that the doula recommended to him—well, heard the books that doula had recommended as he worked out with the audiobook version speaking to his ears. yet, the only thing that miss haseul said that he is stuck in his mind as he looks at you who is closing your eyes whilst you stretch your back because of his babies is…

“don’t just stand there.”

heeseung doesn’t just stand there, he does things he tried to help; preparing groceries so that you don’t have to worry about that, carrying your bags around so you don’t have to walk as your stomach is getting bigger than ever from the growing fetuses. yet he knew what the phrase actually implies.

“don’t just stand there.” take care of her, be there for her, love her.

but how could heeseung love you when you’ve been such a pest in his life? sure, that night at the basketball court is a step of progress towards normalcy in your relationship, but, just like you said. baby steps are needed as you both had hurt each other so much; after he now knows of what you feel in the catalyst of why you hate each other and how you also know of his.

the coach’s board is pushed in front of him as he traces the magnetic jersey symbol with the number 3 representing his position as the small forward if he got to be put on the court once again. since jake is playing as the point guard and how he had been killing it in slipping through the rival’s defense, heeseung’s job is to find an opening so he can throw the ball to either jake or sungho who will stay nearer to the half-circle if heeseung got put in.

“or just try to shoot as many 3-pointers as you like. we have the advantage here and our goal is to make that gap wider. passing 50 would be great.” coach min said, making heeseung turn his head towards the scoreboard, seeing the 45:36 bold in the red LED lights. and with his mind not wanting to wait more for his appointment, his gaze changes as he sounds his understanding to the coach. heeseung stretched his neck when he viewed the coach walk to the side referee so he could be switched back in.

heeseung explains as best as he able to the other four of the court about the plan, making jake and sungho nod their heads and niki with taesan at the back of their side of the court showing their own styles of understanding. the ball was thrown by the rival as taesan snatched it, pivoting on his legs before giving a bounce pass towards heeseung who was running pass the center line near the 3-pointer curve. his head is going into alert mode as he maneuvers the ball so that the rival who is pinning on him won’t steal it. a few passes between him, taesan, and niki; heeseung found an opening to go inside near the basket as he surged forward like a tank, making his own opening as he passed the ball to jake who scored a layup. heeseung recognized the rival could get a free throw chance, but he doubted it would go in as jake and sungho were prepared for a rebound with the second free throw.

the score is now 49:38 as he could see the time is now under 60 seconds. heeseung took control of the ball the most while he tried his best to find an opening for either jake or sungho, but with the change of two players from the other team coming in: they seemed to know his strategy as not one of them was bamboozled by how fast the passes are between him, niki, and taesan. the others figured out they had only one chance left to do a foul. they knew they only had 15 seconds till the shot clock ran out and under 30 seconds on the time of the scoreboard. heeseung realized something, something that can be stupid but will have a better chance of a happy ending in the end.

as heeseung bounces the ball on the ground towards niki—not strong enough like the last few times—the rival successfully robbed the ball as the shot clock resets. all the boys retreated as heeseung was the first one to hold off on the guy who was holding the ball, seemingly not knowing what to do with the ball in his possession. heeseung knows that they’re doing this to play defense against decelis because they don't want the gap to get even wider.

their passes aren’t as quick as his team's when taesan successfully clutches the ball and passes it to heeseung. the clock is under 5 seconds and he heard the growing sound of people counting down from the seats. he knew he couldn’t lay up as it would be too far or even shooting in the safer throwing area even if it gave a higher chance is risky. no, heeseung flung the ball as best as he could after passing the center line. the buzzing sound signals the end of the game as heeseung stares at the ball falling in an arch so perfectly that it gets caught by the net and instantly falls through with no theatrics, making everyone roar.

“there it is, folks. lee heeseung, number 1 from decelis, makes the game as he scores a 3-pointer buzzer-beater. AND SUCCEEDED. congratulations to hybe’s decelis. you will enter the grand finale after the new year’s celebration.”

he could sense the embrace of his teammates around him. jungwon is the closest as he playfully brushes his sweaty hair, making him glare, and wants to go out of the embrace when it’s two layers of players deep. coach min comes and gives his own thumbs up before guiding him near the referee's place as he and his team are met with the rivals, who show their sportsmanship by shaking their hands. heeseung recognizes of one of the players when said player wraps his arm around his shoulders. the announcer with a small bundle full of snacks.

“and here he is. player of the match, lee heeseung of decelis!”

heeseung hears the ovations coming from the decelis side of the bleachers as he receives the bundle, knowing that he would ravish this in one go because, my god, is he starving. congratulatory talks are spoken among the players as if it’s more of a friendly match rather than in a tournament setting, yet as heeseung walks around to meet the team he had his match with, the reminder of the appointment pinned on his mind rings once again.

pulling up to the assigned locker room, he pulls off his jersey so he can wipe his sweaty body using a smaller towel that is wet with water cause he doesn’t think that he has enough time to shower when the appointment is in an hour. feeling the clean wet towel getting rid of the stickiness on his body, he eyes his teammates who are still gleaming from their win of the ticket to the grand final. yet, for heeseung, he had been numb to the feeling. of course, he had to do well with basketball because it was for his scholarship, but knowing that he had possibly secured the scholarship for his final semester, he could actually relax from it and focus on other things in life.

his desire to be a sports journalist and, now, his preparation to be a dad.

“guys, i’m not gonna join to eat after this,” he spoke out after he heard jake asking him. a regular post-match meal is a tradition with the decelis guys. but heeseung has other places to go as he uses his body spray all over his torso and tucks his head and arms into his clean t-shirt, the decelis jersey’s bottom with the #1 still in place, and a pair of recovery sandals to let his feet breathe. heeseung gave the guys his bag of cheetos from the ‘player of the match’ bundle as little cookies and chocolates are enough to satiate his needs, knowing that he could buy takeout as he returned to his apartment, or if you also wanted to grab something to eat after meeting haseul.

the engine groans as the car turns alive. heeseung pulls out of the parking lot of the arena as he drives towards the office, the radio playing his own bluetooth-connected music as he recovers himself from the euphoria of the match, returning to the reality of his other responsibilities. he hadn’t heard from you for a while—when usually you are the one to nag if he has arrived or about his whereabouts as you prepare yourself to meet him. he was glad that he could enjoy the calmness even for just a few minutes, seeing the various silhouettes of the outside world passing by when the office building shows up in his sight from his windshield.

heeseung presses the button to lock the car as he approaches the office in his post-match outfit, a tote bag hanging from his shoulders that is filled with the notes haseul, doctor park, and jeongin’s mom gave to him printed as he might ask for some elaboration about it. though most doulas focus on the mom, he is glad that haseul can also handle first-time fathers as well because, as she said, “sometimes the dad is the more anxious one out of the two.” he acknowledges this because, as he had a talk with his own dad about this, the pregnancy is out of the dad’s control most of the time. especially in giving birth, as the only thing that they could do was to observe how the birthing was going. which means that he has to trust you to do your deed.

he recalled haseul given him and you a “bonding” exercise which is filled with laughter instead as both of you couldn’t be serious enough about this. how you both had to stay in eye contact for 5 minutes to “feel your connection getting tighter”. sometimes, he had to blink or look away from your eyes cause it was piercing with unknown emotions. but he got reminded of when both of you had sex, that final part when he is just staring at you as you sit on his shaft, grinding to find out who will cum first to break the tie. the feeling was similar—an unspoken bond created between the two full of complex history and emotions he has to untangle one by one.

heeseung’s knuckles knocked on the door as he heard the movement inside. the door opened to let him see haseul in her professional clothing.

“heeseung! come in.” she steps aside as he is met with haseul and…

nobody else.

“where’s (y/n)?”

haseul turns her head to him, “i thought you knew, she didn’t say that we’re cancelling today’s appointment.”

“hmm…” heeseung replied as he grabbed his phone, seeing the instagram notifications from the people who tagged him in the match for being the ‘player of the match’. but, when he sees your account profile flashing on the top—the newly followed account as you both did a follow-for-follow—he taps the icon to see you and beomgyu in your instagram stories, how you hooked your arm with beomgyu’s as you walk down a sidewalk, how you recorded chaeryeong dancing with her crew and tag her, how he had seen a photo of you, beomgyu, minjeong, jeongin, chaeryeong, and jimin after the show, and a photo of food at the end as he sees you tag all of his friends and yours, including ryujin who seemed to be available to do a get together because of her modeling appointment.

all except him.

to say that heeseung is heartbroken by that is an understatement. sure not all of his guys are available to watch him play all the time—only jeongin showed up to his quarter-final match last time, but to realize that the change of dynamic happened because of you is making the flint in his heart move faster to ignite the fire. and to know that you didn’t even cancel the appointment, to leave haseul hanging, when you have babies to take care of as you have used your own money to pay for the appointment, while you do a get-together that can be done anytime during the rest of the 3 months of your pregnancy. the changes within the dynamic for the past two months are ridiculous and heeseung…

all he could do was sigh as he closed his phone, glancing up to glance at haseul who had a warm smile on her face.

“well, i have a few things i hope you elaborate on.” the boy said, using this appointment to help him be the better parent.

-

“shit!”

you had to stop yourself from walking as you perceived the contractions coming from your uterus, the same feeling when you had your period, yet it’s dimmer and longer. as the weather gets colder, you tucked your coat that is draping outside of your maternity dress and legging on. you have to thank chaeryeong once again for helping you put it on. the two of them continue to grow inside you as you walk the familiar path towards the boys’ apartment, as per heeseung request cause jeongin told him they wanted to play a game together and you, being the new addition to jeongin’s stream, seemed to be asked to join in.

you could deny it. but you can join cause you have nearly all of your class projects finished, especially the marketing research one as you use the daycare as the protagonist of your case study to figure out how to market a product to different parents. you still have two exams for the two other classes you took this semester and then, it’s all done for you. and with the warmth you receive from the boys, you want to give it back to them too.

you give a small nod to the security guard as you press the button for the elevator, seeing one of the two open as you are greeted with the empty elevator with reflective sheets of metal surrounding the side walls. as you practically waddle inside the elevator and press the correct floor button, you gaze at yourself through the mirror-like surface. turning your body to the side, you view how your coat protrudes from the front as it creates a right triangle shape. moving one side of the coat behind, you observe how your maternity clothes are stretched by your belly to show the growing lives inside of you. the growing lives you can feel are moving around, but haven’t reached out to you as you can only sense them within you. you need to blame heeseung because of the way they push up your intestines, making you very much nauseous all the time after you eat.

the ring of the elevator dings stayed as you walked and arrived at the front door of the boys’ apartment. no sound is heard from the other side—maybe jeongin is waiting for you to arrive so he can start the stream together. the sound of the doorbell is picked up as you gaze at the camera lens connected to the intercom inside before you to the door when you catch the footsteps approaching from behind the door.

appearing before you is heeseung in a white graphic t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. he seems to have a slight pant with his breathing—like he was working out. you’ve opened your mouth as you saw, wanting to talk about something, but you forgot what as you see him rolling his eyes and a “come in” is spoken, leaving you alone by the cabinet for their shoes as you tried your best to slip out of it without the help of your hands.

the apartment is in the regular state rather than the group stream set jeongin had to do. a duffle bag of what looks like to be heeseung’s has a few pairs of basketball shoes—known for the tall shape as it guards your ankle more than regular sports shoes. the wooden floorboard is warm as you guessed he had to turn the heater on, making your way towards the hallways where heeseung and jeongin’s rooms are across from each other.

that’s when you hear a sound.

the sound of nothingness as you approached jeongin’s ajar bedroom door, seeing it empty.

“where’s jeong-?”

“we have to talk, (l/n).” heeseung cuts you off again as he turns his head to face you, his hand on his door so he can just push it open as you stare at him, agape.

“jeongin’s with his stray kids guys doing a group stream,” he added as he knows you wouldn’t stop asking if you don’t know, especially cause jeongin’s the one who invited you—which makes you finally think about how it’s so weird that he had to go through heeseung to invite you when he could just message you through the instagram dm. heeseung gave you one more gaze before going inside his room, leaving the door open as you could feel the swelling tension that was heavier than what your usual banter had been for the past few months.

walking inside, you were met with the wrinkled mattress and comforter of heeseung’s bed. the same bed that you and him copulate and in return, create the babies inside you. the last time you went into his room fully—cause you never went inside his room even though you visited often either beomgyu or jeongin’s invitations—was the night you and him fucked. you didn’t recognize the amount of basketball paraphernalia that is sticking to his walls last time as you finally view it, a poster of what looks like alternative rock bands cause you recognized the paramore, the arctic monkeys, and even the american football posters.

heeseung’s figure reaches his desk and he sits on the chair by it, caressing his face with his hands as you can see the way his facial muscles contort around his eyebrows and forehead.

���what are we talking about?” you lightly scoffed as you stood in front of heeseung, who lifted his head with a tenacious look on his face.

“where were you in the past three weeks?” you can pick up how he spoke with his teeth grinding against each other.

“why’d you care? you’ve seen me all the time. heck, i saw you last week when i came to visit beomgyu-“

“NO!” he stood up after you jumped from his sudden, unprovoked shout. taking a few steps, you are frozen on your feet as he approaches.

“you really don’t fucking care, huh?” heeseung now lets out a huge scoff as he rolls his eyes, very obviously. instead, he was met by another confused and offended look by you. "what does he mean by i don’t fucking care?” you spoke to yourself as he then reply, adding a needed context.

“the fucking appointments, (l/n)(y/n).” his nostrils are so wide that he might as well breathe fire out, making you stunned as your defenses are crumbling down when you realized what he is going to talk about.

you recall the past three weeks, jogging your mind through the endless activities you’ve done such as going out with the girls, going out with ryujin, beomgyu, and jeongin, busying yourself as your interviewing yoonah and the other coworkers for your study case, helping sungchan recover from his hangover as he stayed a night at your apartment—his frat house is overwhelmingly full so that he went back along with minjeong so they could fuck all night, helping ryujin styled for her photoshoot, helping chaeryeong bring the food to her dance crew so they could eat, meeting jimin whilst there, remembering the dance crew show-

the dance crew show you watched with your friends.

trying to comb the calendar in your mind, you’ve just realized that you missed that appointment that day. and then another one last week, the week when beomgyu introduced you to his bandmates as you visited their studio.

“oh fuck…”

“oh fuck, indeed.” heeseung sarcastically mimics you. you tried to hold your head up, but with the way the guilt for not showing up to your doula’s appointment, you could see the slight smirk that was threatening to grow on heeseung’s lips. but he seemed to hold it back as he let out a sigh, a shaky one.

“i’ve been trying, trying to be kind towards you. to give you the fucking benefit of the doubt with what you told me at the basketball court and i believe it. i believed it yet you don’t think about anything after that.” his hand reaches to be placed on his chest as you hold yourself still, fist pushing down to make you stand tall.

“you don’t think i don’t sacrifice as much as you do for them? i sacrifice my time and my friends' time to cater to you who is growing my babies inside you. yet you started to not think about them when you seemed to get everything on your way.” the man says as you can see the way he is grinding his teeth down, yet it still sounds so clear as you get your mind to think straight. heeseung is shaking his head as he can’t hold back the smirk that is slowly growing.

“you don’t think that i don’t realize your crush on beomgyu, don’t you? with the way you’ve been pining over him ever since he brought you to the doula’s office. even if i still harbor unsavory feelings towards you, i’ll allow it cause it’s fucking natural when you interact with him as much. but to then see you slut yourself out to my friends-“

“WOW! OKAY!” you take a step back as the spreading shock of what he told you were triggering the same ever-fiery feelings you also have inside. “that’s a fucking low blow, lee.”

“what other word should i say it with? you’re having my babies, yet here you are being touchy with my friends and forgetting your freaking responsibilities-“

“but slutting myself is such a fucking wrong word to use. that’s too fucking much.” you retaliate back, crossing your arms in front of your stomach as you feel the instinct kicking to protect them. “other than me carrying your babies, you don’t fucking own me, lee heeseung. i can establish whatever relationships that i want and you’re just making yourself look like a jealous boy who can’t seem to make his, fucking, whatever, partner be happy yet the people around you can.”

it is now heeseung’s turn who is stunned, yet his scrunch face still telling him that, even though the word he uses is such an overkill, he is still telling the truth. the truth that seemed to make you fired up to do the offense on him.

“heck, i could’ve terminated them if i didn’t consider you-“

“don’t you fucking dare say that, 'cause,” he says as you looked at him exhaling, the tears of anger brimming in your eyes as you let your mind analyze what you say and how messed up it is. “don’t you see? you thought you were the losing one here? no, (y/n).”

he lets his muscles relax, yet you can recognize just how glassy his eyes are also, mirroring yours. “you have much more powerful control over this relationship than me. you have the fucking right to do whatever you want with yourself. but what’s in it for me? i gave you my savings and we are paying for the appointment together and you become so ungrateful as time goes by not going to them. like i’m just a wallet to you.”

heeseung’s hand reaches towards his cheekbone, his fingers grazes near the corner of his eyes as you watch the whites becoming pink—holding the emotions that he wants to let out but knowing that his friends could be collateral damage to it too now that they have a good relationship with you and your friends.

“i don’t even know what will happen after you give birth to them? are you still going to ignore me and raise them on your own when i have sacrificed even my savings money to pay for this stuff we have to do?”

your throat is dry as you listen to heeseung’s little sobs and sniffles, sensing the way your heart has dropped until it reaches the depths of your being. to then being told the truth that, yes, you are selfish for getting everything you have at the expense of heeseung, who you just now realized is retreating. how the glances at you when you’re with beomgyu, jeongin, or jimin give an annoyed but also a tinge of sadness in them. you now realize that even with heeseung being their roommate, he might not have much time with them anymore because of his basketball practices and with the way you and your friends are hoarding them from him.

“i-“ heeseung’s eyebrows raise as he hears you speak, “i gotta go.” you shake your head, not wanting to openly bawl in front of heeseung as you quickly exit the suffocating space.

the way his voice is calling your name echoes and makes you move faster as you slide your feet inside your shoes before opening the door and quickly and uncomfortably running toward the elevator. pressing the button as fast as possible as the elevator dings, pushing the close button as fast as you can as if you can pick up heeseung’s approaching footsteps.

the elevator door closes as it will bring you to the lobby. you lean back against the wall as you feel the uncomfortable folded-back part of the shoes you wear. damn you for deciding to wear a high-ankle one. you knew it would be hard to fold your leg to just slip the back to cover your heels. but the only thing you could resort to is to sit down on the elevator floor to put them on. quick!

you curse to yourself when your belly is the thing that makes it hard for you to slip it on. you still eye the ever-decreasing number of floors as you are reminded to try sitting with your knees so you can reach the back more easily. your body is doing acrobats more than the exercises haseul has told you to do, but when you feel the flaps now resting behind your feet, you can just stand up and go your merry way-

the elevator door opens when you hear the familiar exclamation of your name before buff arms are helping to make you stand up on your feet.

“did you fall?” jimin is looking at you with worry, leaving his bag outside as you can predict he has finished his class for today. but, with the way that heeseung told you of his friends, the guilt boils up to burn you once again.

“ji-jimin, i gotta go fast. so sorry,” you replied as you pushed yourself out of jimin’s grasp. sure, you could talk to him on what his opinion of you and what heeseung thinks of you. but, you aren’t as close to him as you are with beomgyu.

and that’s where you are bringing yourself.

remembering the band practice he had talked to you about through chat, you walked into the familiar studio area of the campus where he usually is. the hallway inside was getting darker as you entered, the evening time reminding the students to rest for the day as you watched many of them going towards where you came from. the hallway by the door of the studio is dark with only the light and sound of a guitar coming from behind the door’s window. taking a glimpse, you can see beomgyu who is riffing on one of txt’s songs. his long hair shielded his face enough to cause your heart to beat faster than before. well, before remembering what heeseung has told to you. yet, here you are, trying—in a way—to validate that the reason you’ve neglected your appointment is for a good cause for yourself.

beomgyu’s head is lifted as he hears the knocking, looking at the window as his smile widens to see you. you want to reply with the same—you always have been able to—but the underlying emotions you’re experiencing stop you as you try to give the widest smile you can at that moment. the handle turns as you push inside, sensing the warmth of the studio competing against the breeze of the cold weather.

“why are you here?” beomgyu said, his guitar dangling in front of him by the strap.

“so, i can’t be here?” you try to banter, a frown on your face that you usually share with him now has a different reaction as he pulls off the guitar and places it on the speaker before approaching you.

“no, no. of course you can be here,” he replied, the giddiness fell out of him as you noticed why he did that: the swollen eyes that you probably got from tearing up on the way here. remembering your wrongdoings that hurts more than what you and heeseung have gotten through in ages.

as beomgyu leaned closer, he opened his embrace to you, letting you in his arms as you felt the warmth enveloping you, trying to brush away every cold patch that touched your body. yet, it couldn’t touch your heart as much as you want. you wanted to bawl. maybe beomgyu can allow you to bawl into his shoulders. but with what you are doing next, the probability of that will be split.

you were the first one to lean back, hands holding onto his shoulder as he gaped at you with a curious smile before it slowly droops down as you gaze between his eyes and lips. leaning forward, you lean your head and let your lips meet his. the grip on his shoulders was strong as you tried not to tremble. finally. finally, giving in to what you wanted for a long time now.

you could feel the familiar tingling feeling warming your heart as beomgyu just… stands there. for you, that’s enough because at least you told him what you feel based on your actions. but the pausing was too much for your liking, and you can perceive the warmth in your heart getting hotter, too hot, that is giving you searing pain once again.

leaning back, you can see the blank face that is showing on beomgyu’s face. with a heavy heart, you still try to give an optimistic smile that isn’t reciprocated with what you expect. instead, beomgyu is shrugging, a normal expression on his face and you can sense the tears once again forming.

“please,” you whispered, “please tell me you feel the same way as i do for the past few months.” you silently cry.

the boy in question, beomgyu, gives a solemn smile instead. “i’m so, so, sorry (y/n). but i don’t feel the same way.” he is shaking to signal to himself that yes, he doesn’t reciprocate.

however, this is making you question everything.

“then why are you so nice to me? why are you always asking about me or my friends? why are you always joining us?”

“i do like you, (y/n). but, i can’t like you like that-“

“why?” the sound of everything seems to pause as you see beomgyu glances away at something before an unknown yet warm smile that exudes from him startles you.

“first, you’re pregnant with my best friend’s baby- sorry, babies. plural,” he corrects himself, “and second, the night that you and heeseung hooked up. ryujin and i also hooked up-“

“wait WHAT?” your heart is already hurting from the denial because you are heeseung’s baby mama. but the thing about ryujin shocks you.

“so yeah. we both hooked up at your apartment and i got more hooked. i was already hooked when we all were in high school and,”

you couldn’t continue hearing him ramble about ryujin just like how you ramble to the same girl about beomgyu since freaking high school. gosh, that fucking hurts. to know that your crush has a crush on your best friend really hurts. your crush who is best friends with your rival. you want to get a grip on your high school self so she could find out about it because you were too lovesick about beomgyu but despised heeseung as best as you can to not see that. now it just depends on ryujin, but you don’t want to pressure her like that. she’s discovering her queerness and you love her for that and you don’t want a boy to get in between you.

but between you and the boy… well…

you actually let out such an unserious laugh as you realized how totally bamboozled you have been for the past few months. it is helping you spread the pain so that it doesn’t hurt your heart and brain so much.

“you’re using me, ME, so that you can get closer to ryujin,” you sounded with exasperation as while you laughed, you could feel the tears free-falling on your cheek. “to use the attempt to bring boxes of ingredients, picking me up, just to have a glimpse of ryujin once in a while.”

with the quick succession of changes in your emotions, beomgyu just realized what eldritch horror he is summoning: a girl with a broken heart.

“you must be so fucking happy when i say yes to going out with you. a hook, line, and fucking sinker as you get the fish that will lead you to ryujin. yet you’re fucking stringing me along all this fucking time.” you got reminded of the group streams yours and beomgyu’s gang done twice now, to finally noticing just how touchy beomgyu is with ryujin—wrapping his arm behind where she sits—that when you lean against him, you didn’t realize that he was leaning against her too.

“fuck you, choi beomgyu!” you exclaimed as you retreated, tucking the front of your coat to cover your belly once again as the feelings hit you one by one, rushing out of the studio as you run. your tears clouding your sight as you don’t care where you are going. rushing past people as you are met with the pink evening sky as the sun is setting.

you stood by a sidewalk, the tears falling out as you sobbed into the space in front of you. looking downwards, you can see the babies you are holding. you just want to be alone now to wallow in your sadness that is kicking harder because of the hormone you must have to grow them inside them, holding them so you know they are there with you. it really is just you and them against the world.

and they agree with the thought of you buying fried chicken because you can feel them kicking against your touch.

-

it actually worries ryujin that you didn’t go out of your room for anything other than work, exams, or appointments.

her eyes gaze at the door to your room that has been haunting her mind for the past two weeks. a systematic cycle was built as, even with chaeryeong’s persuasions as your mood maker, you won’t go out of your room to even eat.

it started on the day when she and the rest of the girls were worried when you weren't home by midnight. ryujin believed they blow your phone up so bad that it makes you more reluctant to go home, but she remembered she got your phone saved on her find my phone app and they decided to track you using it. their discovery leads them to find you sleeping in a booth of a chicken fast-food restaurant as the leftover bones are left behind. the restaurant is nearly empty with only the employees who work the graveyard shift remaining there to cater to the night people. ryujin doesn’t mind carrying you into the backseat of chaeryeong’s car, but she can definitely feel the heat that is growing on your forehead as the car skidded home.

she heard you grumble as they helped to place you on your bed, making you lay down as they helped you change your clothes. minjeong comes in and brings a wet towel to be put on your forehead before chaeryeong gives you a bowl of cream soup that she hopes you will eat when you are awake. ryujin couldn’t get mad to see you like this—she recognized the dried tear marks fallen from the corner of your eyes. but, the way it spilled into your everyday life for the next two weeks is something she couldn’t comprehend. because you have never been this depressed before.

every time she hears the clicking of your door, she lets out a smile and a warm greeting to then meet you who gives her a small smile yet with no spoken reply as you carry your backpack to wherever you want to go that day. minjeong tried to come along with you, but with a stretch of a hand forward and an open palm; still showing the same small smile, you mouthed a no to her as you went out of the apartment.

because heeseung was busy in doing his exams, beomgyu is still coming by to give the box of ingredients for the week. but ryujin sees that something is bothering him as much as it bothers her. he replies with the same smile and greeting to her—maybe a bit more forward than what she used to—but it feels different when she is used to hearing your greetings towards him as you stood beside her to pick the box up.

this week, it wasn’t even beomgyu who is at her front door.

heeseung stood at the door with the box as he took a glimpse in as best as he could, asking for your whereabouts and why you didn’t answer his texts. ryujin wants to tell him the truth—that you’ve begun your hermit arc as you stay in your room. but she knows how sophisticated your relationship is with him that she can’t bear to let out the truth, saying that you’re outside at that time. but then heeseung told her something.

“help me reach her. she’s been rescheduling all the appointments with both the doctor and doula without me knowing and canceling the ones that we have scheduled together.”

“the receptionist doesn’t tell you anything?” she asked.

“patient confidentiality. and haseul is also by her side cause she won’t tell me when is (y/n)’s appointment.”

ryujin thinks that, if you are not with a child right now, you might not even open the door to get your meal in and you might never even go out other than for your work and exam. it seems that you are preparing yourself to be the vessel for your babies so you can give birth to them healthily, eating and drinking for them, but not for you.

she knows just how sad you are by the way you are wailing with the sound of your guitar muffled in your room. she listens to your rendition of mitski songs from behind the walls that are still small enough to not annoy the neighbors on all sides. with the exam season nearly done as you are there to finish up your research project, it makes you not go out of your room at all unless it’s for the bathroom. nobody is ever asked to pick you up for appointments or work at the daycare because you will then arrive and go back to your room all by yourself.

it’s sad to see you like this. so ryujin hopes what minjeong is doing could help you.

the guitar wailing is still heard as chaeryeong and minjeong walk from the kitchen with the buckets of popcorn, a homemade burger just for you, and juices around them as they still promise to follow your diet—though not as strict as you. minjeong walks towards your room as chaeryeong reads the synopsis of the cd cover of tonight’s movie.

“hiya, (y/n). i know we have been so busy for the past two months or so,” ryujin listens to minjeong words after her knocking on your door killing the sound of the guitar from your room. “we’re having a movie night and it’s one of the japanese movies in your watchlist. you are very much welcome to watch with us.”

there’s a long, pregnant pause as minjeong says the last words, turning her head towards ryujin who gives her a tight-lip smile as she looks at the hallway from the end of the sofa. minjeong lets out her own small smile as she turns her head towards the living area to grab the cd from the table and crouches down to put it onto the player. ryujin glances at chaeryeong who gives her own solemn smile, whispering, “just by the look of the cover, i know we will be crying.”

just then, they heard the sound of a door opening. all of their eyes turn towards the entrance of the hallway to see you emerging. no words are spoken because all of them still want to give you space as you’re the one now reaching out to connect to them after their trials and tribulations.

chaeryeong pats the seat between herself and ryujin as you let out a chuckle, letting them see just how big your belly is getting for carrying your still ever-growing babies. ryujin gives you the burger plate as you give a warm yet solemn smile, making chaeryeong lean close to you as minjeong turns off the lights and lets chaeryeong press play.

the movie starts with a scene on a train. a green filter filled the screen as only the white noise from the moving train filled the room. a young girl and young boy sit across from each other, a large suitcase in between them. and the boy whose clothes are similar to the suitcase—tattered—clutches onto it so gently.

to say that the movie is profound is an understatement. it is filled with wholesome scenes of children—siblings—playing with each other. that is, before the realization hits all of you as they had to fend for themselves to live. but it definitely hits you hard as you lean against ryujin’s shoulder, her hands in fist because of how furious she is while watching everything is going badly for the children. while you, you are actually sobbing. maybe because you have a profound relationship with children, and are a future mom yourself, your emotions exploded as you felt the despair, happiness, and rage all throughout.

it definitely is cathartic to you because you have been burying your feelings back. to see the children being abandoned is hurting you because you have seen children like them firsthand when you are volunteering in your second year. you definitely are mad at yourself for putting nobody knows in your watchlist, but you can now say that you’re grateful for minjeong to remember it because it is definitely the cathartic release you need after burying so many emotions at the same time.

as the credit rolls, you can feel the way your babies are moving inside of you. as if to remind you to at least, please, don’t abandon them.

the waterfall of tears as you sob caught the attention of your friends, who are also in various levels of tearing up in the eyes to full-on bawling with rage. you can only let out a small smile as you hear minjeong sniffle before standing up, making you open your arms to let her into your embrace. you can sense actual warmth for the first time in a while as it shields you from the cold, literally and figuratively. more arms come to wrap around you as you felt both ryujin and chaeryeong’s faces beside your ears. to know that they understand it hits you more because you are with a child.

maybe, there is still warmth in life than what you expected. after contemplating so much about the actions that you’ve done—ranging from the earliest memories of when you and heeseung were young to the way beomgyu broke your cracked heart into pieces when you confessed—you realized that you are selfish. that you haven’t got the ability to step back and take in everything and to find your priorities, because now with babies growing inside of you, your priorities are changing as you start to love them more and more.

the pettiness that you and heeseung have for each other really shielded you from what heeseung truly is: a good man. a man who cares for others. a man who is willing to trust you, even with the amount of history you both have. how he also has his own priorities and needs, but he decided to give them to you—well, your babies. sure, he’s not perfect. his anger making him say something that is so out of line in your relationship. but you understand where he is coming from. you understand the amount of jealousy seeping through when the doula gives you instruction yet he is just there, doing nothing other than being reminded to always have a good communication line with you.

maybe, it is the time for change. because if you can allow yourself to have his children, you should also allow yourself to let him into your life.

so that your children will not be abandoned by both of their parents.

-

to learn that his mom is so excited is an understatement. to know that both his and your moms have been planning for your joint gender reveal and baby shower—because of your busy schedules—is like seeing them being kids once again.

heeseung looks to the backyard of his house, the venue of the event, which is filled with more neutral earthy color from the theme that they asked you about. he didn’t chime in because he is busy—but he also wants to at least forget the way genuine hurt show up on his face when he called you a slut. to then lose contact with you for the past month as he is frustrated. yet again, you were the one blocking him from the information he has the right to know. and with the way you try to avoid him as much as possible on campus, you are now entering your third trimester, the end of the year is near, and both of your families believe that you both are together, all of those complexities are swirling in his head as he has to try his best to face one by one.

“heeseung!” he heard his dad speak loudly from outside the room, “the guests are here, come greet them. it’s your party to host.”

“coming.” he took one last look at his outfit, a simple creme-colored shirt tucked into his black jeans, as he walked outside of the door towards the living area and the backyard when he caught the appearance of the table with shiny bracelets and flower-charmed bracelets: a jewel for a boy and a flower for a girl. he could see that some of his boys were there, picking between two types of bracelets so they could guess what are the genders of both of his babies.

“come on! the idea of heeseung hyung having two boys will be scary.” jake says towards jay who picked up gold and silver bracelets, respectively.

“but it’s plausible…”

“so is hyung having two girls, right?” jake replied as heeseung looked down to find the different color flower-charmed bracelets in his hand. the other guys are also talking to each other as sunoo was the one who approached him first.

“hey, heeseung hyung. how are you feeling?” the kind boy asked as he could feel his emotion lighten up when seeing the younger boy’s eye smile.

“oh… you know, a bit nervous actually.” heeseung chuckled as he looked at the boy’s wrist, seeing both kinds of bracelets on each of his hands.

“i’m team ‘heeseung hyung is boy-girl dad’ and the guys don’t believe me actually.” sunoo replied, seeing sunghoon turning to him and saying, “that’s cause it’s rarer, sunoo-yah.”

“i know,” said boy replied as heeseung chuckled, looking towards another table that is full of gifts often found in baby showers. since nobody knew of the genders of his babies, he saw all different types of clothing of all colors there, a few baby diapers, and essentials that would be helpful to stock at home. most of them are gender neutral but he sees a few of specific gender ones he has to think to give away if his pair of kids will be only gender specifically–or he could hold on to it so that he can make them dress neutrally.

“we didn’t give much other than two sets of baby clothing. broke college students, after all.” sunoo speaks as if to explain the situation he recognized so much.

“that’s definitely enough, sun.” heeseung chuckled as he patted sunoo’s shoulder. that’s when he heard the commotion from inside the living area from behind the glass doors, the room where his mom is with his extended family and a few mutual friends of his. he looked through it to watch a crowd coming inside; what looked to be your side of the people—your friends from college like yunjin and kazuha, your roommates of course plus sungchan who is bringing eunseok too, to what it seemed like your extended family before he sees you coming in: taking his breath away.

you are bigger than the last time he saw you. you are also wearing a color similar to his, but in a midi dress style, and he sees his mom hugging you before holding onto your belly. he let his eyes watch you comfortably as you looked around the familiar and unfamiliar faces before you connected your own sight with his.

heeseung thought you had almost forgotten the fake dating aspect of this whole fiasco you are in with him. but when you open the sliding door and in a one-way direction towards him, he lets himself being embraced by you as his hands automatically move to wrap around you. he couldn’t lean in closer because of your pronounced baby bump, but you moved back a little to look at him. a smile on your face as he sees you seemed to be more at ease, maybe because of your classes being finished and such, but you are on a completely different side of the spectrum because he is here, still struggling to juggle all the things.

“you okay?” you are the one that asked as you gaze at heeseung’s unreadable expression, making you chuckle as you can’t help the influence you have on him, but also the influence he has on you as you could pick up your heart beating faster.

“yeah…” he replied, making you lean in.

“follow my lead 'cause your mom literally introduced me as your girlfriend. unless you get a grip to know what it implies, hee,” you whispered as his eyes changed, his hand now traced down to your lower back as he stayed by your side.

acting with himself is something so easy for him. after all, he has to act while in front of your parents when he is facing you, which he has done since he knows how. but, now, acting with you seems so natural. too natural, actually. how you’re bringing him around as he introduced yourself to your aunt and your now first-grader cousin—"that’s the kid that i babysit for the first time" you added—and the way you acted like nothing happened for the past month stuns him so much.

the way your facial expression moves along as you and his friends seem to be low-key teasing both of you—he caught a glimpse of jimin recording him being dragged by you past the crowd on video—just seemed so much more than acting. but you are acting, correct?

well, that was when you caught onto beomgyu’s gaze that he could see your expression chipping away; when you returned him with only a small smile before pivoting towards heeseung as he could see your nose crunching while smiling. with that, lee heeseung actually kind of regrets by telling that to you. he kind of regrets that he hurt you.

the festivity was very modest to say the least, especially since both of your parents are the ones paying cause they’re just too happy to have grandchildren with each other. the pile of baby items is stacking up as more people are picking their guesses. all the party needs is the arrival of your coworker and it’s done.

when said coworker arrives with what looks to be a bag of crowns: a pair of faux gold crowns and a pair of flower crowns. he looks towards you who is smiling before biting your lips as you approach her and give her a hug, bringing her to him.

“this is yoonah from the daycare, well technically, she’s my boss,” you spoke, introducing the woman who is older by a few years.

“and this is heeseung, the baby daddy.” yoonah pulls out her hand as heeseung shakes it, pain surging through his hand as the grip on it is so hard.

“listen to me, heeseung. if you ever hurt her again, i swear to any kind of god out there that i will hurt you first.” yoonah said with gritted teeth and menacing eyes before pulling back, making heeseung’s doe-like eyes turns towards you who was giving him a shrug as you tell your mom on the main event.

“gather around, friends and family. the main event is going to start!” she said so giddily as his mom brought both of you to the other side of the backyard, facing towards the house where the people you invited were in front of both of you.

“thank you so much for everyone for coming to the baby shower/gender reveal combo for (y/n) and heeseung’s babies.” yoonah hosted with both poise and excitement in her voice—no wonder that she also works in a daycare. “i have here two pairs of crowns that will show the genders of both babies, which i know since (y/n) asked me to be with her for her latest appointment. i will put the corresponding crown on the two parents’ heads.”

heeseung can see the crowd gleaming at the thought of seeing both you and heeseung wearing the corresponding crowns according to their guesses. he glances at his boys who are sporting all the flower-charmed bracelets; except for jeongin, who has one silver bracelet and one flower bracelet on his wrist. and then to your girls who are sporting mostly both kinds of bracelets except for ryujin who wears two gold bracelets.

“(y/n), heeseung, please close your eyes and take a bow,” yoonah said as he turned to you, who gave him a subtle nod. your hand reaches to grab his as you both face forward and he closes his eyes before bowing his head forward.

all he could feel was the way the cold breeze blew against his skin and how his grip on yours tightened as he could feel something on his head, making the sound of the crowd growing before the grass ruffles in front of him to where you at as the crowd lets out a huge ovation. he can hear his friends’ laughter when he picks up yoonah saying, “you both can open your eyes.”

lifting his eyelids, he lets the shiny view come in as he turns towards you, seeing the shock on your face as he gazes at you wearing a golden crown. he grabs onto his own crown as he touches the petals of flowers on it, picking yours up also to show you what’s on your head. you can’t help but step towards him, taking in a big embrace that heeseung reciprocates as he sees both crowns on his hands behind you.

a boy and a girl.

heeseung was actually speechless when he retreated, letting you take the flower crown before placing it on his head, scrapping around his hair so that it looks better as he lets the gold crown glide on top of your hair where he puts it.

he could see the way his friends crumble and glee in excitement because of the revelation. sunoo’s cackling comes from the basketball guys and it combines with jeongin’s who is also recorded jimin and beomgyu, jokingly weeping because they’re wrong. your friends are also teasing ryujin for picking the wrong combination as heeseung rests his hand on your back.

“ok, sorry, one last thing everyone.” your mom interrupts the total chaos of emotions being spilled before turning towards you two. “i know that we have the gender reveal and baby shower together and we have so many outfits and items that will be useful for you to raise both of your babies. but you might be asking ‘where are we going to put this?’ well…”

your mom opens her arm so that his mom comes into her hold. the grin that they are trying to say signals that they're now fully loaded for something.

“we don’t want you two lovebirds being apart while raising babies. well… let’s just say that your parents and (y/n)’s parents have paid the down payment on a new apartment…”

heeseung actually reacted the same way as you, jaw dropped, eyebrows scrunched as you and he turned your heads at the same to face each other. you mouthed a ‘what the fuck’ towards him as he shakes his head, saying to you he also don’t know shit about this.

you and he are going to live together.

he could actually read your face this time, the face that he has already recognized for a long time—the face of when you want to refute. but, with the way your eyes seemed to crease as the rest of the bafflement poured out, you realize you couldn’t refute back to them unlike how you do to him. your eyes, though with the same sparkle in them as he sees you throughout the day, seemed to tell a different story. a story that he also seems to recognize.

that’s what he thinks as he says the goodbyes to the guests departing, leaving only your family, his roommates, and your roommates behind as they all gather to help clean up the props and bring the stuff inside. heeseung carried the last of the two baby carry-ons for the car inside the house as it is stacked by the garage door so he could pack them up and carry them to your new shared apartment.

“i swear, gang. i don’t know shit about, fuck, this,” he says as he walks back and forth to the two groups sitting in his proximity.

“also, ‘lovebirds’? the last time i met you, i don’t think (y/n) is dating you.” ryujin called back to what his mom said. but she still understood it was the message you and he sent when you were walking around together to greet the guests.

“well, we imply to them we are together to let them know of our situation so that’s where that actually came from…” heeseung replied when he caught beomgyu who was looking at ryujin’s curious and furious combo face as he could feel the awkwardness of the moment is. since the last time you left his room, he never hangs with your roommates anymore, nor did they come to his apartment to play. sure, he has met all three of them as he became the one to give the box full of ingredients, but the situation is so awkward that after he asks for your well-being and is given the answer, he instantly speed walks to the elevator because it triggers him so much.

he really realized just how interconnected you are to everybody. he can see with the way beomgyu arrived home on the same day you left from him—whom you presumably talked to—and discover how his usually giddy face now has a small stain of sadness in it before going back to ignorance. how jimin never heard of chaeryeong again as she is working with her main crew on a routine whilst jimin is focusing on creating a choreography. all because he wants you to explain from your side.

to heeseung, he had let the things that created a plaque in his heart alone by themselves: seeing you being too selfish of your own self that you couldn’t find any priorities for even your babies and how he said it to you seemed to besmirch him more. yet, he also takes to the heart what you say on the basketball court: that he is miles ahead in front of you and how tired it is staying in the rivalry. that there is a side of him capable of competing, yet he pours it into your petty rivalry. he has already implemented the side of him you were talking about on his day-to-day after it, mostly during basketball, as he seemed to be some sort of assistant coach to coach min as he helped with training the junior players. he sure hopes that you get what he meant on why he asked for you two to talk after every factor created changed him in a way.

because he cares for you.

“the boys are staying with me,” beomgyu said as he stood up along with the others while the girls also stood up, presumably to stay the night with ryujin because she is also from here—alongside heeseung, beomgyu, and you. heeseung brought them out of the front door as they went their separate ways, closing the door as he walked deeper into the house.

he heard the sound of the sink running when he found his mom cleaning the utensils. your mom is packing up the leftovers as the sound brings him towards the kitchen.

“hey, bambi.” his mom greets him as heeseung lets out a small smile. your mom opening her arm so he could come into the conversation that is now being talked about.

“i sure do hope that you and (y/n) like the apartment we picked. it’s a two-bedroom one, but it is big enough because i know you have your exercise equipment and that gaming pc of yours that you will have to reassemble,” his mom said from behind him as he stared at the leftover food on top of the kitchen island, standing beside your mom.

“that’s more than enough, mom. thank you.”

“you gotta have to say thank you to auntie as well. she helped to pick the location so that it is pretty close to your campus and your friends.” his mom told him as he took a peek to see your mom, catching onto the similarities both of you have.

“we have the rent up for a year so we can give you freedom if you wanna move away from it after it is done.” your mom continued to talk as heeseung nodded. his head turned downwards as he tried to pick out the right words to say. instead, he literally blurted out something that came out first from his mind.

“(y/n) and i don’t get along with each other.”

he stares at the two women who turn their heads to face each other. both of them sharing a look before your mom replied, “we know.”

“well… both of you used to get in trouble with each other a lot at school that it makes us realize that you both don’t get along with each other.” his mom added, making heeseung’s face return to the shocked face as he can’t help but laughs. why would he and you hide it if they already know? oh, young minds…

“i, i, okay…” his stammers died down as he couldn’t help but bite his lips, “then why i do seem to care for her so much?”

he’s able to hear his mom chuckle as she turns the water tap off before standing on the other side of his figure, seeing how he is taller than both moms who are looking at him so expectantly.

“the line between love and hate is so thin it’s actually near existence.” his mom said first, “and don’t worry about that, the rivalry doesn’t actually start with you.”

“what?” he retorted as he watched the two women communicating through a glance shared between them.

“your mom and i are actually rivals in our school basketball athlete days.” your mom said, “we used to trash talk so much at each other that our teacher had the smart plan for us to do something for detention together.”

“cleaning out that forsaken storage filing room.” his mom cuts in as she helps to collect the leftovers and grab the plates they were on so she could wash them.

“arranging them up and all. good thing during your time now you have online databases because, i swear, those teachers just blatantly putting the documents down so that they can make a student clean it up somehow as punishment.” your mom adds as his mom just laughs about it, thinking of said memory as heeseung could picture a large dim room full of shelves with stacks of papers on them—not arranged into a certain manner at all.

“but it works. after that, we became closer and we don’t see each other as rivals, but as equals.” the tap is turned off as his mom’s words go back to his ears, “and we become the best friends you now see us as.”

heeseung can’t hold back his laugh as he imagines his mom being in the same position as he is during school—cursing your mom’s ears off or even tugging the ball from each other to show who is the better player. but to know that they resolute it so fast makes him feel shame for actually allowing such rivalry to grow for more than a decade. it’s because you and him don’t see eye to eye, but sometimes you do. it’s because of the ambition you both have to also be like your parents. but growing up changed that. there are many ways to resolve such rivalry, yet he chooses the having-a-baby-together-route; the extreme challenge mode out of all.

“since you stayed at our house, (y/n) is now staying in your room for the night, heeseung.” your mom said as she gathered the leftovers, which were divided into two for each household. “also the apartment already has a bed complete with the frame and mattress and a wardrobe big enough for both of you. so you can move in if you want by tomorrow as you gather your items from your rooms at each of your apartments.”

“alright, thanks for telling me,” he said before your mom jumped with realization one last time, picking up the white envelope that he remembered yoonah brought.

“this is from the last doctor’s appointment (y/n) went to with yoonah. she knows you will ask her for your own copies.”

the word “third trimester” is spelled out on the front as heeseung pulls out the content. a few ultrasound pictures grace his vision as he gazes at the visual of his babies inside of you, the word markings at the top now assigned them as baby a and baby b grazing his touch as he sees one of them each in their own scan and both of them together by their heads. he felt someone standing behind him and a finger pointing something out in one picture of the individual baby.

“you can see baby a has a nub protruding. that’s the penis, so he’s the boy.” his mom has spoken, making him let out a small “wow” before seeing that baby b has no nub. she’s the girl.

“well, all the leftovers are split up, so i think we’re going to get going. we don’t want the husbands to smoke one more stick of cigarette.” your mom says as his mom laughs in reply.

heeseung adds after tucking the pictures in the envelop, “i also want to go to bed.”

“you absolutely should. you have to pack the baby shower gifts and bring it to your new apartment in the morning. or let it stay in your trunk until you move it in. you’ve done so well as a host,” his mom responded as he nodded, saying his last “good night” before retiring to his room.

his nightlight on the bedside table is on when he gently opens the door, he looks at the silhouette of you lying down on your side facing away from him. a duffle bag stands in front of his wardrobe which he presumes is filled with your clothes as he can identify you wearing a headset while the light of your phone shines your face. for him, it’s the correct time to freshen up as he had to come to terms that you will stay in the same bed as him—because he couldn’t bear himself to push you off his bed especially with you being in the third trimester, where he has learned from haseul is when your back pain is at its worst.

drying the droplets of water and tucking his sleeping outfit on, he walks back into the dim room to find your headset and phone on the bedside table. you have moved to sleep with your left side up; the only space for him is on the right of the bed beside his desk. though the weather outside is cold, the heater is still on as the heat exudes out to balance the temperature. he walks towards the empty bedside when he can’t help to make out the sound that is so much more noticeable in the quiet air’s white noise.

the sound of sobbing.

heeseung sits down on the bed, his back facing you while he looks one last time at his phone before putting it away when he hears you talk.

“do you know about beomgyu liking ryujin when we talked a month ago?”

his head turns to the side, taking a glimpse behind his shoulder. he can see the fragment of your expression in the darkness, making him want to make his eyes adapt to it faster.

“ever since high school, (y/n).” he acknowledged. of course, he knows. he had seen that lovey-dovey look every time he and beomgyu moved past you and ryujin in the hallway. he still has it—the subtle version of it—when his gang hangs out with yours. to be that naïve wasn’t heeseung’s forte, but he does realize just how naïve you could be.

“and is that why you commented on my crush on him? because you know that i’ll be hurting at the end?”

heeseung let out a small hum as he pushed himself off the floor and looked to the front, extending his legs as he sensed the similar, albeit lighter, pain from walking around and standing up too much as he let his legs stretch out to make him relax and let the blood flow clearly. you chuckled as he helped to pull the comforter on his childhood bed on top of him and your figure. if he could communicate with his younger self that he has you in his room and in his bed, he could see young heeseung strangling him, complaining to his older self about why he allowed that person to even be in his room.

he sees movement from your end when he lets himself lay down on the mattress. your hand brushing against your face as he turns his head towards you.

“well… you won, lee heeseung.”

your words caught his attention as he let his head be on the same level as you, shifting so he could finally see your face clearly with the nightlight still on. you have another pillow wedge between your legs, something he knows can make you feel more comfortable as he had also learned about pregnant woman’s sleeping positions. yet, your face tells him and the world that you aren’t 100% comfortable.

“i went to him, wanting to make what i felt come true because i truly, truly thought that he felt the same way. then bam! another gutter punch to me and that’s a freaking k.o,” you informed him, letting him experience the rest of the day from your view as, at that time, he was wallowing in disappointment and shame for using a wrong word to describe what you are doing with his friends.

“that fucking broke me. and i still remain in that belief even with the catharsis of watching a japanese movie about child abandonment makes me fracture and heal myself at the same time. now, with our parents renting us an apartment…” he could hear the pitch of your voice rising alongside how many words you had spoken. heeseung turned his whole body to face you, making you exhale and inhale, “i think it’s going so fast. too fast, i mean.”

your breathing makes you a bit hyperventilating as you want to turn some other way from him because you can’t bear to see his doe-like eyes staring at you with concern. you try your best to calm down, looking at the slam dunk poster on one of his walls while blinking your eyes to get rid of the glistening eyes. that’s when you sensed a hand on your cheek. heeseung’s hand reached out as you let his fingertip graze near your eyes, wiping away the single tear that came out after enough of them accumulated on the corner of your eye.

“you don’t think i’m not also scared? that my life is also going too fast?” he asked in such a warm tone. “you think that i’m not also broken? with how you and the world had shown me so much knowledge i have to expect to understand quickly, it also broke me. i can see what a positive influence you have over our friendship as a group and with you being idle for the past month, it has affected everyone. it affects beomgyu too, you know?”

you push your lips to one side, feeling your cheeks getting warm as you frown while taking in the words he had meant. that even if you confess just how much you have lost in this eternal battle with him; for the first time, he confesses he is the same.

that you are now equal to him.

“i don’t know. i retreated to being an egotistic antisocial while thinking about all of that. i’m glad you’re not like me then.” heeseung giggles as he overhears you uttering such a depressing sentence. but he continues to caress your face as he tugs himself closer to you, sensing his bent knees touching your own and the pillow that is wedged between the legs. he is the one to lean in first.

the kiss feels all too familiar now, the same as the one you had while conceiving your babies, the same as the one at the basketball court. but months have passed since those two moments, yet it only becomes richer as it goes. your hand lifts to grab his luscious locks and cradle it so you can bring him closer, tilting your head as you feel his breath right against your philtrum. yet, when you let go to take a breather, he leans in closer to connect your foreheads, lips right in front of each other’s—hovering so close that no one could able to steal each other away from the moment.

“you have me, (l/n)(y/n). we can heal together, if you want, of course. or else, i just take care of myself better an-“

you playfully roll your eyes as you meet his lips once again, feeling both of your pairs already knowing the right ways to satisfy both of your needs to sense each other. you nodded your head—hoping he felt it too—even with your lips on his. and he seemed so as he traced his hand down to your side.

“let’s heal together,” you answered, breaking the string of saliva that connected both of you as you grabbed heeseung’s hand on your body to let him touch your bump. sure, you are used to them kicking inside you now. but, heeseung never felt them when you discover them during your hermit days. to see just how the sparkles in his bambi eyes increased when you could feel one of them kicking to your uterus wall so hard, you let out a chuckle as he let you move his hand and press down to sense the movement inside you.

“i have to be angry at you because both of your babies are kickers. it triggers me to vomit just how much they kick me.”

“sorry for that!” he takes responsibility with a grin as you let his hand go, letting him have the free rein to press up against your womb where your babies are in.

“also, you’re going back with me to campus tomorrow. should i just bring you back to your apartment? the parents expect us to set up the place with the baby shower gifts.” heeseung asked as you let his hand roam to press against the bump. at the same time, it was your turn to caress his cheek, feeling how he wanted to stay in your touch when he unconsciously leaned in, but his head seemed to be too heavy to lift from the exhausting day that is today.

moving in with him is going to be hard. other than the knowledge that you learned about him which you can take advantage of, you don’t know who heeseung is as told by himself; only from his friends and parents. but with the more contact you both have with each other during this phase of both of your lives, you can tell that he is decent. you can already figure out how to rearrange the domestic chores you and him have to share. and to learn that the apartment is semi-furnished with the kitchen, bathroom, and main bedroom in place, you could actually go and live with him as fast as possible.

you’ve made up your mind.

“you know what? you don’t have to bring me back to my apartment.”

“hmm?” he questioned, lifting his eyebrows.

“i’ll help you unpack the baby shower gifts at our apartment.”

-

4. mended broken hearts

“thank you so much!” heeseung spoke with a sense of gladness as he took a last glimpse at the crane beside the balcony, watching it being retreated down to the truck that is part of the moving truck ensemble for his apartment. the officers there were so helpful as they didn’t mind being moved around between three different apartments since the morning. the machinery always fascinated heeseung as it’s not the same when it comes to houses. to use a crane to help move boxes easier at the same time is stunning heeseung; because he didn’t get the same luxury when he moved into the boys’ apartment. that’s when you told him that that kind of service actually exist too.

turning around inside his still blank living room, heeseung scans boxes upon boxes of his and your stuff, some are inside suitcases—which is mostly clothes—and boxes are filled with stationary and other items you both owned. the kitchen where the island counters are and a few sturdy boxes you both haven’t unpacked become your dining area as—other than the bed frame, mattress, and wardrobe both your parents have bought alongside the apartment rent—they want you two to decorate the apartment to your heart's content. that means buying pieces of furniture and assembling them yourselves.

heeseung still remembers how his dad arrived to tell him the different tools in the toolbox that he gave him as they both assembled a few pieces themselves. you stood on the side, sometimes helping with bolting something with a screwdriver in your overall get-up that he seemed to not get enough of. with your shelves done for the living area, you both focused on the babies’ room rather than your own room first. knowing how to assemble things now, you both choose the cribs, changing station, and cabinets for your both of your babies’ needs. viewing the room in the default look without more color is enough because you don’t know if the landlord allowed for any modifications of the apartment. so you both waited for customizations when you decided on a much more permanent residence after you graduated.

but, overall, the way you and him work together in creating a liveable place for yourselves for the next year is something to be proud of. how you and he bounce each other’s thoughts as you think of using the boxes of the new furniture bought to your advantage, making a makeshift cabinet you can put the unnecessary stuff you have while you allow heeseung to buy a desk for his gaming pc setup and some stools in making the kitchen island your permanent dining table. none of you are thinking about buying tvs or sofas, so a few beanbags and a futon is enough with a mini projector that can be useful for projecting the movies or shows you want to watch.

it’s admirable honestly, just with how open you are with each other after having such an emotionally charged seven months along with years upon years of bad blood to see you and heeseung actually working together and not complaining much about it. your friends even tease that maybe bodysnatchers caught both of you and you both are some alien species who don’t know the complex history of the humans they’ve abducted. yet, you both beat the allegations when you still have fits against each other in front of your friends. though in your domestic life, you try to dim it down by doing the relationship exercise haseul has taught you. twice a week, just you and heeseung sitting across from each other on your bed, holding hands, and looking at each other—building that connection.

heeseung placed the aptly label pc box on top of the desk he had assembled yesterday after he and the moving worker helped in organizing which boxes were yours and his. two beanbags are sitting by the front door as he will wait for you to discuss how to rearrange them for both of your liking. the boxes create some sort of half-wall maze he has to navigate to find your shared bedroom, the babies’ room, and the bathroom where some of your dirty laundries are piled he has to remember to bring it to the laundromat. he remembered that you have your own ironing kit so that you don’t have to pay more to iron out the creases of your clothes. he had already talked to the landlord about how to connect to the internet as he has his own router that he just needs to connect. and voila, a living place enough until the next year as you both awaited your graduation and your babies.

the sound of a muffled ringtone rings from another room as he walks towards his bedroom, seeing the tall box from the crib becoming your bedroom table as it rattles against the material. he looked at the screen to see the alarm reminding him of what you told him. picking the phone and some necessary items up, he left the apartment to go to his car in the basement, turning the engine on as he left the building.

the road is empty enough for him to arrive early to the daycare—even earlier than the guardians of the children who are finishing their day so they could pick their kids up. heeseung turns the car off as he stares at the entrance because you’ll probably be far from being done, yet something in his mind tells you to just wait inside rather than be left in the cold in the car; also to save the gas. locking the car with the remote key, he walked towards the daycare as he stared at the trees around that were shedding their leaves in the mid to end of december date it is currently in.

he hears a twinkling jingle when he steps inside the heated lobby area of the receptionist area, seeing it empty as he could observe the walls of the various playrooms that are there; all of them leading towards the outdoor playground that seemed to be closed out because of the snow falling a few days before. heeseung sees the children doing their various activities, some are playing around by drawing and some are playing with dolls and figures while an attendant takes care of each area. that’s when he saw you, sitting cross-legged in another overall outfit as he could see the large bump you’re sporting whilst sitting, reading what is supposed to be a children’s book for your audience of 4 to 6-year-olds—though you also have the experience of taking care of younger when you told him of your babysitting experience.

your eyes gaze between the writing of the book and your audience of children intrigued by what you are saying. your free hands move animately whilst describing what you are reading, making a few kids holding onto their plush or blankets so hard as they imagine what you’ve said. every time he sees you like this, he can’t help but be enamored like you. like you are a goddess of storytelling and your stories capture people’s attention in such the right way that it influences them too. why did he think about that? because he had seen it. he had seen his friends being influenced by it, and he had felt it himself.

your gaze breaks between the two planes of existence towards the window where heeseung is standing behind, making him chuckle as he sees you startled. eventually making some kids turn around to look at him. he can read the changes in your face as you realize the time, looking at the other areas, before pushing your hand as you point to where you at, mouthing,

“you want to come in?”

“right now?” he also expresses as you read his mouth and answer by nodding. he slowly tugged his shoes off and put them beside the shelf where the employee’s slippers were as he pushed the door open after turning the handle. softly—from the little pairs of eyes looking at him—he settles down beside you as some kids are looking at him with differing emotions, some with admiration, some with jealousy, some with timidness; especially because of how much of a giant his own body is compared to them. that is before one boy spoke up,

“miss (y/n), is that your king?” he says, making you puff out laughter as heeseung’s eyes widen before looking at you. with the way the other children seem to realize what the boy implies, he realizes you have told them something before about that.

“i think you’re right, woonhak oppa.” a girl said before she reached her hand out, “queen (y/n) is going to have her babies soon.”

“okay, kids. hyunseo…” you gaze at the kid who is giving you a cute eye smile. you know just how brutal it is for kids to tease you about your relationship; even kids are having a more dramatic love life than you are here. but with heeseung here, after they believe you don’t have your own king or queen, you understand just how confused they’ve become.

glancing toward him, you open your hand and whisper, “the floor is yours.”

he gazes at the kids before letting out his signature charismatic smirk, “well, you are correct, woonhak and hyunseo.” the two names mentioned now have sparkles in their eyes. “i’m queen (y/n)’s king. my name is heeseung.”

“heeddeung?” you listen to hyein trying to pronounce the name, making you chuckle.

“it’s heeseung, hyein. with a sssseu…” you tried to help her pronounce the s sound in heeseung’s name as the kids were now singing the chorus of heeseung’s name, making him giggle.

“you’re so cool, mister.” another boy spoke out as heeseung seemed to be taken aback, doing some theatrics with his expressions before bowing down and saying a “thank you”.

“then, you have been lying to us, miss (y/n)?” rami’s question makes your eyebrows crunch as you don’t know how to word out your complicated relationship in simple words.

“king heeseung has been here the whole time, actually.” you lean forward with your hand covering one side of your mouth so that heeseung can’t see, “but i hide him so that his awesomeness doesn’t compete with mine,” you said yet still with your normal volume, making heeseung snicker before he tried to remove your hand. the children nod their heads as they’ve been in on a little secret of yours.

“both miss (y/n) and mister heeseung are awesome.” you heard a girl said at the back, making you let out a thumbs up before you saw the boy beside her refute her answers; making them bicker about who was more awesome between the two of you. you exhale such a big breath as you shift your head to face him when he sees you with a look of horror—him realizing just how loud children do when bickering with each other. you stretch your arm upwards before slowly scooting yourself towards heeseung and place your head on his shoulder, making you pick up his giggle as he brought his hand behind you to stabilize your gravitational pull because of the weight.

“let’s hope that our babies are not gonna argue like that when they can talk.” heeseung mumbled, making you glance at him.

“arguing like us too, you mean?” you nudged his rib, finally knowing his opinion on the topic you voiced out months before. “i know you’ve felt tired of that like i am.”

heeseung hums before he sees a boy raising his hand toward you two, making you say a "yes" as yujin asked you an unexpected question.

“since queen (y/n) has king heeseung and they have the baby on the way…”

“oh no…” he caught your mumble.

“where does the baby come from between the two of you?”

if heeseung’s horror gaze doesn’t turn into dread, he must be sick or something because you even have a similar look showing on your face before it went away a few seconds later. that’s when you heard your own alarm from your phone ringing; making the kids let out such a chorus of disappointment because they have to go home.

“your family can definitely help you answer that, kids. let’s prepare your belongings so you can go home, okay?”

“okay!” they said in their various voices as heeseung sighed so large, avoiding such a lightning bolt because if you couldn’t answer it, then how could he do that? of course, he doesn’t want to imprint the idea of copulation on them at such a young age. and he is glad as the bell saved him.

heeseung helps to stand you up and you walk towards the lockers for the kids before glancing outside to see the familiar faces of their guardians picking them up. he even helped with a few of them before he felt a tug on his shoulders when crouching down. turning around, he sees the same girl that had pronounced his name wrong giving him a paper. he remembers the girl has a few sheets of paper and crayons when she is there with the crowd, hearing your stories.

“for you, mister heeseung…”

he sees the picture of a simple drawing of three figures: a smaller triangle with a circle and smile and hair, a larger one with the same as the little figure with a crown on her head, and beside it, a stickman with a black rectangle filled and the same circle as a head with face and another crown. the color of their triangles corresponds to the girl’s purple outfit and your own light blue denim.

the girl, you, and himself.

“thank you, uhh…”

“hyein.” she smiled.

“thank you, hyein.” he replied correctly before turning around as he saw her retreating body to you who was holding her purple backpack strap, giving him a knowing look before you focused on hyein as he stared at the drawing in his hand.

after you send the kids to their respective guardians with coats that appear so big on them as they have to traverse the cold weather, you say goodbye to yoonah and your other coworker; seeing her nodding her head at heeseung who is picking you up as she mentioned, “you almost forgot to send me the complete research so i can give it to sohee in marketing.”

“will do it right away,” you said as you tugged your puffer coat, said your goodbye to her, and entered the warmth and comfort of heeseung’s car.

after sending yoonah the file of your final research work that could help with helping in promoting the daycare, you lean back on the seat as you let heeseung’s r&b-based playlist flow through the speakers.

“what are we having for dinner?”

“what are you craving?” he asked before turning to you, who had a smile on your face. he already knows what it is.

“what’s with you and jjampong?”

“gochujang is my craving now and jjampong, being the soup food it is, helps with making my insides warm from this cold weather.” you hummed, thinking just how satisfying to consume jjampong again for the past three days. well, what gives. it is what you are craving.

“yet, you don’t want kimchi jjigae? they’re similar.”

“but jjampong has seafood, heeseung. plus jjigae is too thick and it’ll feel weird on my tongue.”

heeseung could only sigh as he smiled to himself, knowing that he had to call the chinese food delivery when you arrived at the basement of your apartment building.

a shower and the clean empty bowl of chinese foods you and him bought later, you and him are doing your nearly-regular routine of sitting and staring at each other. because it is nighttime, you let your lamp light the room in its own dim brightness as you see it being reflected in heeseung’s eyes.

when you smile, he follows. when he moves his lips a certain way, you follow as best as you can. but you can feel how both of your pulses are syncing up from you both holding your hands. thoughts are running in your mind about him, mostly the ones you have an obvious answer to. but there is one that is stuck that you just remember.

“why?”

“hmm?” he hummed, eyebrows lifted.

“why did beomgyu mention to me that he can’t be with me because of you?”

heeseung tries his best to not break eye contact even if he wants to, having the answer showing up clearly in his head because of the vulnerable stare he is in.

“did you tell him something, seung?”

but he just can’t say it, still holding it back even with the way you stare at him with such glistening eyes. your hormone seizing the wheel as you let go of your hand to wipe it before holding it again. he shakes his hand as you just let out a disappointment tight-lipped smile. but you didn’t expect heeseung to also ask,

“why didn’t you stop me that night?”

your eyebrows are lifted. that night has been a while and the last time you spoke of it is when you mentioned how you are pregnant with his child. sure, why didn’t you stop him? why didn’t you stop yourself? you are also wondering that.

and because of that, you lean forward as your lips meet heeseung’s. the kiss is so light yet loving. and even that, it’s enough to answer the question for your own self. well, it’s now his turn to think…

“why didn’t you stop me just now?” you questioned back.

near the end of the 5-minute-ritual, heeseung finally understands why he didn’t stop himself today and why didn’t he stop himself and you that night.

-

the end of the year is today and here you are, tucking yourself in one of your flowy maternity dresses as you pull the straps up so you can put your hands through the sleeve and tug the dress so it adjusts to your own liking. your makeup has been sitting on your face for five minutes now as heeseung is preparing himself in the bathroom. you tie the strap of the back of the dress as best as you can when you can feel yourself stretching your back, making you groan at how satisfying the feeling is. the sun has already set outside as you clasp your small black-colored chain necklace at the front before rotating it behind your nape. you glance at how cute you look as you can’t help but take your own photo in the mirror that you brought from your old room that is leaning against the wall corner.

the door of the bedroom opens and you find heeseung in a white shirt and black trousers ensemble, “you ready?”

“i guess, can you check if the ribbon of my dress is straight?”

heeseung steps closer to you as you puff out the sleeve of your dress so that the seam can be placed correctly. a slight tug comes from behind you as you glance at heeseung repairing the ribbon of your dress. after it’s done, he leaves the ribbon as he looks up at you, who is staring at him from the mirror, a sheepish smile on his face as he glances at your phone in your hand.

“you want to take a picture of the occasion?” he asked, gently tucking his head on your shoulder.

“if you want to,” you reply as you catch him nod his head. his hands that are on your back move forward and rest on your large pregnant belly. you took a few pictures of the two of you—something that past you couldn’t see yourself in—as you put it on your instagram story and typed the caption, “night out (+ 2)”.

“you want me to tag you too?” you peek at heeseung, who has moved one of his hands to be in front of your clavicle, seeing the black necklace adorning your skin next to the rolled-up sleeve of his white shirt and the veins protruding on his forearm.

“of course,” he said as you typed in heeseung’s username and pressed send.

“we haven’t updated much of our instagram and i surely know that our old friends will be shocked to see us together.”

heeseung’s muffled laugh comes from behind your head as you follow, wiggling yourself out of his hold as you pick up your bag and strap it on across your body. you glance at the living room that still has boxes left but with the beanbags and projector set for your usual game night set up—courtesy of heeseung’s nintendo switch—as you see his rgb light inside his pc crate lighting the dim living room by the balcony. walking to the fridge, you open its door and pull out a flask of your own lemon-infused carbonated water so you can pretend to at least be drunk for the new year’s night. you feel your coat being hanged on your shoulders by heeseung as you tuck the flask inside your bag; slipping on a pair of ballet-style shoes as you both walk down to the lobby.

“you sure we don’t have to use a car? don’t want to make you too tired…”

“yeah, i’m sure. i gotta have to stretch my body to exercise, hee.”

you were glad that it hasn’t snowed for the past few days as the pavement is all dry and safe for you to walk. the apartment complexes are close enough to each other and you want to use that as an advantage to move your body so that it doesn’t lock and make you too stiff. your fingers are interlocked with heeseung’s as he allows you to guide him through the shortcuts on your way to your old apartment; where the new year’s eve party is at.

“one last reminder: you’re allowed to drink tonight. you deserve to have a break time,” you said as heeseung glanced at you.

“then, who’ll be taking care of you tonight?”

“i can take care of myself, you doofus,” you replied to him, “and i’m most certainly could take care of you too.”

you glanced up at the apartment you moved from as you greeted the security guard, who is still greeting you even if you’re not the tenant here anymore. bringing yourself to the elevator as you press the familiar button, your eyes stare at the changing numbers on the way to your floor as it opens when you both arrive. you could hear the muffled loud voice that you’re hoping would be alright—"it’s okay! the neighbors are away for new year’s eve so we can party all we want" minjeong reassured you—as you approached the familiar door and put in the keypad: they still didn’t change it.

the door opens as you pick up the speaker playing in your small get-together with your people. you can hear the shout of yours or heeseung’s names as you slowly pull your shoes off by the door that has already littered with so many shoes of other people. the get-together is only for the seniors in hybe uni who are linked to your friend circle and, not going to lie, you didn’t expect for it to still be this many.

you see chaeryeong approaching you as she tugs your coat off before hugging you, already knowing that she is tipsy just by looking at her.

“you’ve come back, mama,” she teases you as you hug her too while you can pick up jeongin’s voice greeting heeseung with their usual bro hug. ryujin comes in as she brings a bucket of popcorn to be given to the crowd gathering by the tv that is playing a playlist of kpop songs. minjeong and sungchan come to hug you together as you find eunseok and chenle behind you.

“i’m so sad that you can’t drink.” sungchan said as he gently touched your bump. “she’s carrying my niece and nephew, of course, i don’t want her to drink,” minjeong cuts her boyfriend off as you playfully pull out your flask, making them widening their eyes before you say, “it’s just lemon soda water. i’ll be okay.”

you let them move away as you glance at yunjin, who is now using your room after you moved. she seemed to scream when she saw you as you instantly hugged her, “look at you, mommy.”

“thanks, jen.” you replied, “how’s it been living here?”

“fun as fuck. i don’t care that i only have 6 months of uni to live here but anything i would do to allow boys in my room-“ you playfully nudge her forehead as the laughs between the two of you combine with the sound of the people talking in the apartment. the boys greet you now as jimin and jeongin let heeseung talk with keeho, jiung, and theo.

“how have you been with heeseung?” jeongin asked genuinely as he got cut off by jimin, “hopefully his snore doesn’t turn you off much-“

“aish. YA! don’t cut me off.” jeongin nudges him away as jimin shows his own grin towards you as you ponder.

“he does snore, but i’m getting numb to it-“

“i don’t snore, (l/n)(y/n).” heeseung shouted from the other side of the room.

“you do!” you heard yourself, jeongin, jimin, and somebody—somewhere in the apartment—replying. knowing the strength in power, you and jeongin giggled as you continued to catch up.

“who’s having heeseung’s room?” you questioned, making jeongin pull someone out of the conversation as you see the familiar face that makes you giggle.

“yoon jaehyuk?”

“hey, (y/n)!” he hugs you as you pull back, confusion on your face.

“i thought you were still rooming with asahi…”

“ahh… yeah… so he decided to do an internship back in japan and he’s not coming here often unless so that’s why i room with the boys. gotta have to thank seung again for telling me the vacancy,” he said as you saw him smirk. you nod your head as you allow yourself to be taken by the flow of the conversation. conversing with the likes of hyeju, yerim, wonjin, and hyunsuk, before you can feel yourself getting tired as you walk towards the sofa, seeing beomgyu being left alone with one plastic cup in his hand and the other on the remote control—as if he is the music man of the night—as you can see him changing the playlist to play a sing-along playlist for songs of 2000s emo alt-rock.

“can i sit here?” beomgyu lifts his head from your question. you want to ruffle his hair for it being too messy, but knowing the aftermath of your last duo interaction, it feels totally different.

“of course,” he replied as you sat on the space beside him. he seemed to notice just how messy his hair was as he moved it so you could notice his flushed face from the drinking.

“oh yeah, apologies. you can’t drink-“

“nah, i can.” you pulled the flask out as beomgyu widens his eyes. “lemon in soda water. so that i can feel the festivity alongside all of you.”

beomgyu lets out a sheepish smile as he nudges his cup out, “cheers?”

“cheers.” you meet the cup with your flask as you both drink from it, feeling yourself sigh as you thank yourself for finding such a safe remedy so that people know you can still “drink”. but when you retreat your thoughts back to beomgyu, you can still see a familiar tinge of sadness on his face.

“what happened?” you decide to throw away any leftover feelings just so you know he is alright. beomgyu scoffed as he wanted to answer.

“i confess to ryujin and guess who got denied?” he points his thumb toward himself and you can’t help but let out a pout. you can think of so many reasons why she rejected him, but you know she might be doing that because of you and your unresolved feelings for him—especially since you’ve learned she is sexually attracted to him because they hooked up.

“you gotta have to be patient with that. she’s a demiromantic, so you have to coax her into that part of the relationship. make her trust you enough.” you decide to lecture him. many people have been trying to get with ryujin even when you both are in high school, but because of terrible experiences, you understand how she realized who she is now. you were with her through thick and thin at that time and you know that if beomgyu is the one asking her out first, it’s definitely a legit attraction from his side because ryujin remained romantically single for her nearly 4 years of college life.

“and i should tell her i gave the blessing. she might still be holding back because of me and my feelings towards you,” you say what you thought out loud, showing beomgyu just how effective his rejection is not only to you but also to himself.

“i’m sorry once again, (y/n). i shouldn’t have used you like that,” he said as you blinked your eyes, letting out a hum as your answer.

“but truly, i couldn’t reciprocate your feelings because-“

“because i’m your best friend’s baby mama. i remember.” you slice his sentence and put in your own. but you didn’t expect him to add to it more.

“yeah, that but also,” beomgyu lifted his head towards one point in the room as you followed, finally letting the sound of the fall out boy song in your hearing as you listened to heeseung singing along with it with a similar cup in his hand, taking a deserved break just for the night to let loose. that is when after he sang the high note that he caught your gaze and you see the corner of his lips tugging upwards.

“it’s heeseung too. he had never been this caring towards someone. even to his previous girlfriends where he only dated for like three months top.” he said as you can remember heeseung dating in high school and he had only had a girlfriend for like a month before they broke up. it’s a teasing material you and ryujin used and you can remember how fuming he became before beomgyu calmed him down. beomgyu’s word makes you realize something as it definitely is a fragment of the answer that he couldn’t answer when you asked him nights before.

“i have a guess that he has been having feelings towards you that he is willing to monetarily fund you throughout your pregnancy. it’s hard to find a guy like that unless he is honest and sincere.” beomgyu continued as you jumbled the words to find the answers hidden in them because—true to what the boy beside you said—if he is not sincere, he wouldn’t be leaving you alone to face this phase of your life. your mind suddenly thinks of a world when you say nothing to him about you being pregnant, letting it be a secret that he might only know after you give birth to the twins. but, you still won’t lie the sexual attraction is there to make them in the first place.

“thanks for answering the age-old question, beomgyu.”

“you’re welcome,” he said as he saw heeseung approaching the two of you. you can see with the way he has a little sway in his movement that he is definitely tipsy: nearly drunk. he pulls you up before sitting down on your previous space and tugging you down so you sit on his lap. his hand moves towards your bump and you can feel the babies reacting by kicking around the skin where he puts his palm.

“oh yeah, txt’s coming back with a gig. would love to see you both there cause we might spoil a new single for our next album.” beomgyu said as both you and heeseung stared at him.

“no shot. we’ll be there, right, hee?”

“uh huh,” he replied as you could see the cringe on beomgyu’s face, not used to seeing his best friend being disgustingly lovey-dovey towards his partner as he stood up from the couch.

“i’m gonna grab more snacks. hold the remote for me, won’t you?”

you picked the remote from his hand as you replied, “good luck on ryujin. be patient.”

“i will!” you heard beomgyu reply as heeseung’s nose seemed to distract you by tracing it against your cheek.

“what was that?”

“you know the love triangle i mentioned?” he hummed to your question.

“beomgyu got rejected by ryujin, so i was giving him tips to get into her heart romantically and i have to give a blessing to ryu if she wants to pursue him.”

“ah... that. well finally. beom’s brave enough to actually confess.”

“how is he like about her during high school?” you turn to examine heeseung as he sways your body on top of him.

heeseung chuckles before answering, “he is definitely whipped for her. he was so angry for being late to confess when ryujin suddenly got a boyfriend…”

“that guy was a bad boyfriend in the end.” you fill out heeseung’s story as he let out another hum.

“speaking of high school, i’m guessing i’m not the only that is having my phone setting off so much from the story i repost?” he squinted his eyes, making you let out a sheepish smirk.

“ooh, let’s actually see how they react!”

you and heeseung see the messages that are being exchanged of how you both are together and some congrats to the people who notice the baby bump. but still, the overwhelming census says “HOW ARE YOU TWO TOGETHER” exactly with the caps on. all you and he could do was laugh as you waited for the next year to start in just a few minutes.

the new year that you are ready to face with him.

-

you are rummaging through heeseung’s side of the wardrobe as you hopefully don’t want your expectation to be wrong. that he, AT LEAST, still has the uniform from the last season in his wardrobe.

heeseung left hours before to train some more for the championship finale tonight and as a former basketball player and his “partner”, you gotta have to show him support—"or i will actually kick you out" he jokingly said. you knew of his predicament so well, being the captain of the team but also as the versatile player who his teammates have to rely on. but you definitely can trust him for this because, of course, he wins against you when it comes to the basketball category.

you can feel the vibration of the notifications on your phone, telling you that your friends are here to pick you up at the arena as you let out the breath you were holding and tug your tank top lower to cover your bump. you have finally found last year’s decelis basketball uniform as you see the words “h.s. lee 01” so clearly on the back. it still smells so clean because he probably has not worn the top in a long time—but you have seen him wear the bottoms as some house clothes. you tug your head through the collar and put your hand through the sleeveless strap as you pull the top down, seeing the excess of his clothes covering the rest of your bump as it hangs on the end.

when you hear the sound of the doorbell ringing, you quickly walk to the door and open it, turning off the bell from the intercom before you are met with ryujin hugging you.

“you look sexy. i didn’t know you were that possessive, (y/n).”

“oh shush, the babies have to know that i’m also rooting for their daddy, of course. now, can you help me put on my shoes, please?”

after all of that is done and none of your things are left behind, you tuck your jacket as you enter charyeong’s large-ass van—probably from switching the car she brought from the previous semester back home during the break—as you are greeted by the whole gang when you enter with beomgyu driving and ryujin on the shotgun, noticing just how comfortable they are in conversing with each other now. you could see just how fast they’ve been getting it on as you don’t want to comment on it that much.

“tickets are with me.” jimin said in reply ryujin’s worrying scold when you let beomgyu drive the van towards the arena. you recognize the large arena from the many times you went by it, but also the distinct yellow neon color of hybe uni’s university color as it is the town’s signature arena. stepping out of the car, you felt the winter air hitting you as you and the rest are going inside the arena with jeongin holding some banners they made for heeseung that you don’t know shit about.

but the thing is: heeseung doesn’t know all seven of you will be here. because you didn’t tell him you don’t have work today when he thought you had.

well… that’ll be a major surprise for him.

you greeted a few of the juniors you recognize as the people who you worked with for in uni events or your junior in the business major. many of your peers’ juniors are also here as you discover some of them fangirling about beomgyu and how they are excited for his next album coming soon from the single they have released. even jeongin got recognized even if he is a small-time streamer. but he was raided by a bigger streamer during his subathon at the start of the year and has more collabs with the stray kids collective. safe to say he is set in his pursuit to be a streamer—"or a pro gamer if that doesn’t work," jeongin had said to you.

you recognized some of the cheerleaders as you have pretty good ties with them too when you helped one of them in bringing them to the hospital because of an injury during outdoor practice. though, you might not be as famous as your friends—you and minjeong actually—you are pleasant enough to recognize the satisfaction of your balanced socialization but also be at home watching movies with her for your 4 years of college.

“gosh, has it gone that fast?” you think to yourself. there’s a sense of melancholy towards it as you are here to do your last semester. to separate from the friends you made whilst being here as you open a new chapter, which you decided it will be with heeseung as you only have a month until your babies arrive.

the arena lights dim as you can hear the mc introducing the teams, both universities are cheering for each of their team until it’s decelis’ time.

“decelis number 1, playing in his last season before graduating, it’s lee heeseung.”

you actually let out a scream that shocked your friends as you watch heeseung coming out and stand in front of the opposite’s no. 1. then you pick up the recognizable names of heeseung’s teammates, mostly the juniors, sophomores, and freshmen, coming to take their place beside him. the names that you’ve heard so much is because of heeseung who was asking about on how to position his teammates in the right way with you—who will be ones in the court first and how can they do in facing the opponent. you actually had to use the basketball insight you haven’t used in a while to help him strategize, making you recognize just how well the players are in each category.

with his hands behind his back, heeseung’s gazes at the bleachers where the decelis supporters were. he was hoping he could see jeongin on the right side of the bleachers, but not going to lie, he wanted to see you in his game—answering the joking taunt he gave. the strategizing you help with is being taken seriously by coach min as he agrees to let the first people you helped him pick to be the one on the court first. the spotlight blinded him but he could see someone wearing darker clothing than the yellow and white colors of decelis is using this season.

as the light’s brightness increases, his eyes stay on that certain spot as he recognizes it is you. he can feel his heart pulsing swiftly when he recognizes the top you are wearing, scanning the number 1 on the front: his last season’s uniform. you stood right beside the aisle of the bleachers just three rows back from his own benches. he could definitely bring himself to you right after if he wants to.

after the players shake their hands and return to their benches, you finally notice how heeseung recognizes you as you catch his sight, but then he lets his eyes trail to the people beside you to see the gang fully completed when he actually does a face-palming motion. you turn to view the banners the boys are lifting, “DECELIS’ KAEDE! ALL OF US ARE HERE NOW!” the little inside joke that you and the girls also understand as none, and yes, none of the games heeseung played has all the gang there to watch. only this one: his final one.

heeseung steps out first alongside jaehyun, niki, jake, and sunghoon. niki is at the front as he waits for the referee to blow the whistle. he jumps and uses his long limbs to push the ball towards the decelis side as heeseung gets it and immediately passes it towards jaehyun. the screeching sounds from the shoes make the quick side stepping and pivoting be picked up as you listen to the sound of the supporters fighting against each other in how loud and united the support is. jake got the ball as he easily slips under the reach of the opponents and he halts and quickly shoots, an easy two-pointer at the start. but the opponents: they are not that easy to beat.

8 minutes in, the score is so tight at 17:15 to decelis. niki and sunghoon have such a good time as they successfully dunk an alley-oop together. jake is killing it with the lay-ups while heeseung has gotten one three-poin- wait no, make it two three-pointers as the score rises to 20:15. but you realize just how weak the defense is as you can actually hear coach min saying to focus on offense on one timeout still in the 1st quarter. and they still focusing on the offense, making the current score for the 1st quarter being 20:17.

heeseung rested out for the 2nd quarter as coach min let a few nimble ones play on the court such as jungwon and sunoo. lay-ups and shoots scored the most in this round but jay was the primary target of the opponent as he always got free throws. maybe because they just recognize how good jay is at scoring three-pointers but if he is inside near the ring, he could do a backboard bounce or even a dunk. you actually feel your body sweating as you understand just how worrisome the situation is. it makes you pull off your outer jacket as you can pick up gasps and surprises to your wearing heeseung’s uniform. you look at his side profile as you sit behind him, discussing with taesan on what to do about this as coach min seems to get taesan out after calling another time out. the score at the end of the 2nd quarter is 34:32.

“i swear to god, (y/n).” you heard minjeong said beside you, “why is this so high school musical 3 vibe?”

you actually let out a pout whilst holding your laughter, because what she’s saying is so true. during your winter break—because you and heeseung are “home”—you and him binge-watch the high school musical trilogy. the way, you remember, heeseung cackling as he watches how the bleachers sit down to show gabriella as troy was having this existential moment when they only have 16 minutes on the clock is ridiculously funny. but you can see him bopping his head to the basketball practice song that is “get’cha head in the game” that you might believe it’ll be his guilty pleasure practice song. “please, bet on it is so good though.” he also said as you watch the second movie, and how he is shocked to watch you remember the lyrics of “gotta go my own way” with how you karaoke the shit out of it. yes, both troy and gabriella’s parts.

to experience similar moments being imitated in life makes you rethink how it happens in the first place. like, no, you aren’t gabriella and heeseung isn’t troy and you both are not in high school when all of this is happening. but you’re thinking about what could’ve been. but, as many people have said, high school isn’t like high school musical.

the 3rd quarter started and you watch heeseung playing once again, focusing on his part as a forward but also helping in defending because of his tall body that can shield the hoop from the opponent. but, the morale seemed to have dimmed down as you see the way the opponent’s score now flips over decelis’ even by one point. but then the gap widens as both teams are doing well with defenses. however, decelis seemed to have some slip-ups. you can see the opponent’s player with number 2 on their back—seemingly the ace of the team—that is put in this round is turning the tides, focusing on quick motions, passes, and attacks. and just like that, the 3rd quarter ends with a score of 42:44. just one shot of difference.

and, unlike those 2000s rom-com movies you watched that have a couple with one of them being an athlete, you go down the bleachers as heeseung watches you when coach min is telling of the plan with the rest of the team. you grab his hand towel and help to dry the drops of sweat dripping down his head. a loving gesture that is hiding something as you lowly whisper to only him.

“target number 2. making him tired.”

heeseung nods his head—as if he is thinking of the same thing—when you let yourself lean in and give him a kiss on his forehead before letting the towel go so you can return to your seat. his eyes follow your retiring figure before turning towards his coach, who is tracing the board with a marker.

“i think we also have to target their number 2. if he plays.” heeseung said, making the others turn to him.

“we need someone with a wide reach and nimble enough to catch up to him. someone who hasn’t had a foul yet to stick right to him. he’s good with his lay-up but he has taken a few inside shots and misses, which means he might be weaker at free throws. so you need someone who doesn’t have any fouls who isn’t scared to bump into him when he starts doing lay-ups, then we can score through rebounds,” he stands beside coach min as he puts his forefinger on the board, tracing the path of one of the pins as he continued, “we do a two-time pass and maybe the forwards will be on standby as they can do a layup or dunk.”

the coach glances at him, rethinking of the new information the captain gave him as he nodded, “who doesn’t have any fouls?”

heeseung sees sunoo, riwoo, and leehan raising their hands as the coach continues, “i’ll be switching you up every four minutes, and remember what heeseung says: take the foul. as long as you don’t have five fouls, you are alright. we have to be brave enough to play dirty. i’ll be having taesan, sunghoon, and niki switching between each other for the center and power forward positions. jake, sungho, and jungwon will take over for point guard and heeseung, jay, and jaehyun for shooting guards, okay?”

“yes, sir!”

“team!” the coach pushes his hand in the center as the rest put their hands on top of his. coach min nods towards heeseung.

“decelis!”

“dece- dece- fighting.”

the supporters roar as he see the opponent doing the same thing to taunt them. heeseung has his eyes on their number 2 before looking back at you who is standing up as you give him a thumbs up.

10 more minutes.

1 time of 10 minutes and it is done. for heeseung, it will be the last time he played as a college basketball athlete as he will graduate later in the year. for him, it is now or never.

“heeseung,” coach min’s hand on his shoulders, “thanks for telling me about number 2.”

he lets out a smirk before answering, “you should thank my girlfriend for that.” and he walks to the court, seeing leehan placing himself right by number 2 with the ball at their side as taesan passes it to niki. niki dribbles forward as heeseung and sungho is at the front near the ring. leehan sticks by number 2 with taesan now by the ring, but niki notices how sungho is empty as two people are trying to defend taesan. he passes it towards sungho who immediately dribbles inside, not scared to move in as he finds the right path to the hoop and does a layup.

score!

heeseung pushes his hands out so he can high-five sungho as they retreat behind the center line. he notices the opponent’s forward passing to number 2 who is so fast and already in a way to do a layup where leehan pushes him, making him prematurely shoot and miss the backboard. a foul given by the referee.

heeseung stood near number 2 as he hoped his theory would come true. number 2 shoots his first free throw and misses. his eyes are on niki and taesan nearest the ring, telling them to pass the ball to him as they read his signals, nodding in return. number 2 shoots his second free throw and misses when taesan rebounds the ball and passes it to niki as heeseung runs backward to the outside of the half circle. the ball flies up as niki passes towards heeseung, who feels someone near him as he jumps and quickly pivots away from the opponent behind him. he sees the small sliver of empty space outside of the half circle and dribbles there before shooting his shot.

a three-point score!

with the opponent’s plan to use number 2 becoming a failure as there is a three-score gap in the scoreboard, the decelis team remains in the same strategy of guarding number 2 and fouling to fail their attempt to shoot. heeseung sees coach min tally up their scores when he calls for a timeout, changing all five of the players with their replacements in their assigned positions. heeseung sits down on the bench as he stretches his legs, wanting to look back to gaze at you before he feels a tap on his side to see jungwon smirking.

“girlfriend, huh?”

heeseung raises his eyebrows.

“you said to coach to thank my ‘girlfriend’, since when is (y/n) noona your girlfriend?"

“honestly, i don’t know.” he looks to find you before fully focusing on jungwon, “something just tells me that it’s correct to refer to her as that.”

“also, did she play basketball? how does she know that number 2 is their ace?”

“well…” heeseung smirks as he leans towards jungwon, basking in the way his team has found the right way of play as the gaps between the teams are getting longer and longer. jungwon also has an air of surprise when heeseung tells him that you were a former basketball player—a point guard like the boy he is talking to.

“but why did she stop?” jungwon genuinely asked, making him chuckle.

“let’s just say that she knew she wouldn’t beat me when it came to playing basketball.”

the opponent team did a timeout as heeseung said “good luck” to see jungwon now being called to play on the court. seeing jay, the three-point master playing on the court when there are 2.5 minutes of the match is done as if to terrorize them more. not only did they have riwoo who hadn’t had a foul yet, sunghoon and taesan are now playing as they have used their tall arms to defend and attack successfully, and jungwon who is ready to be the point guard. heeseung can feel the pride oozing out of him at how unstoppable his team is. coach min seems to contemplate whether to put him on or not, but heeseung shakes his head.

“let them be. it’s their chance.”

and it’s their chance indeed, as he sees the time counting down at rapid speed. when it is under the 30-second mark, the opponent successfully gives another score but they are too far from decelis as all they have to do is defend the hoop. one of them takes their last chance, watching the ball hitting the rim as sunghoon grabs it—10 seconds left—before passing it towards riwoo who is moving on the court, doing an ankle-breaking turn to his opponent before passing it to jay, who instantly shoots the ball as heeseung sees the perfect arch. he heard the siren calling the end of the game and the ball falling perfectly into the opponent’s basket.

they won.

all the decelis players approach jay on the court as they hug him, but heeseung is nowhere to be found.

instead, he jumped from the bench and climbed up the bleachers where he saw you cheering. your expression changes when you notice him approaching, a euphoric smile on his face as he grasps your cheeks and brings his lips to yours, making you instantly close your eyes as you move your hand to caress his sweaty-ass nape. you can hear the cheer of your friends beside you as you remember they were recording, making them record both of you as you felt heeseung’s hand drops to give a gentle grip on the bump.

you could see heeseung’s hooded gaze as he didn’t hesitate to crouch down and give two kisses to each side of your bump—for his two kids—before he stood up and gave you another peck on the lips.

“go down to the court!” you push him away from his celebration as he sees his team already gathering, waiting for him. he approaches the court with a sheepish smile as they seem to chuckle while seeing their captain so in love.

you wait as you eye heeseung’s figure that is being embraced by his teammates. minjeong showing you her point of view of the kiss as you can sense how passionate the two of you are; reminding her to send it to you as sit down and lean back, feeling a weight from you also falling down alongside heeseung’s.

the mc talks about who the player of this match is and the team was so excited to know that jay won for his numerous scores in the three-pointers—he deserves it after all. but he also had one more thing.

“at the end of every season, we also have the most valuable player of the season and for this year, for the third time in a row, mvp is decelis’s no. 1, lee heeseung!”

heeseung does a deep bow as he gets the mvp trophy and he sees some package for him that he could give to his teammates and bring the rest home to share alongside you. his vision looks at the mvp trophy, tracing the figure of a basketball player in action when he sees his reflections on its golden sheet surface. his smiles dropping as he can feel contempt.

“any words?” the mc asked as he was being offered the mic.

heeseung grabs the mic and rests it in front of his lips, finding the right things he will say as he utters, “i would like to thank my decelis family for being with me since i started my college basketball career, the hybe uni supporters for cheering us on, and to my friends who are here all complete with all 8 of us here.”

he sees how beomgyu seems to shrug as he wants to hide–cause beomgyu, especially, has only been to heeseung’s game once every season.

“to our opponents, you have done such a terrific job and i see you, number 2. you’re going to do so well.” said number 2 also bowed his head, knowing just how highly regarded heeseung is—one for the legends.

“this is also my last season with decelis as i’ll be graduating this year. thank you for having me and i’m sure the decelis will be in safe hands with them.” he turned towards his teammates as they looked at him with glimmers in their eyes and flatters in their hearts. heeseung gave one more deep bow before giving the mic to the mc as they waited for the medal ceremony.

heeseung could sense the festivity floating around in the locker room as he felt the hug of each of his teammates. he could see the enormous bags of snacks from the package beside him on the bench, as he knew he wouldn’t be eating them all anyway, giving it to the rest of the team as he packs a few of the little snacks in his duffle bag.

jake approaches him and asks, “so you really aren’t going pro?”

“hmm… nah… but i might be still seeing you if i got the right job to discuss college basketball.” heeseung answered as niki approached, “gosh, you are light years older than us, old man.”

“i’m only 4 years older than you, nishimura. you were supposed to be in high school if you didn’t have an accelerated class.” he nags as the others still basking in the euphoria of winning the medals. he, of course, wants to celebrate, but he has another thing to do in his mind that is much more important than celebrating with the guys.

“the victory party is tomorrow, right?” heeseung asks.

“yeah, it is hyung.” jaehyun answered, “all of us needed a rest after that shit.”

“i need a soak!” heeseung hears taesan complaining as all of them change from their shoes to their respective sandals.

“rest well then we can have fun tomorrow,” jay answers as he gently grabs his player of the match package and puts it in his duffle bag, making heeseung pat his shoulder. while preparing their bags as they left the arena to go home for the night, heeseung glanced at his phone to see the numerous notifications from social media of his victory and retirement speech before he landed on your simple notification.

(y/n) :P : i’m by your car.

he lets his feet bring him to where he parked his car hours prior, seeing you leaning against the front of it with the light of your phone shining on your face. you lifted your head as you heard the sound of his footsteps approaching. put the phone away, you brace for his hand holding onto yours, gripping you hard as he gives you a long, breath-taking kiss.

“congrats,” you say to him as his nose touches yours, bringing you in for another kiss as both of you are moving your lips around to adjust, earning a muffled moan from you as he felt your hands scouring around on his body.

“where’s your car key?” you whispered to him as you saw him shake his head, making you frown.

“if you genuinely want to take me tonight, you have to be strong. let me drive, heeseung,” you asked with your voice tone lower, making him flow into a dazed state as he zips open the front of his duffle bag and dropped the car key in your hold, making you push past him as you open the driver’s seat. heeseung instinctually walks to the backseat as he places the bag in the center. the sound of the car engine starts after you push the start button. heeseung closes the door and gets in the passenger door as you still adjust your seat. you knew you wouldn’t see your legs, but driving is a muscle memory thing so you hoped it would kick in you.

from your perspective—and because you have a smaller car—his car is massive. but as you adjust all the mirrors to your liking and with the new sensors on the side mirror to help detect blind spots, heeseung’s car is definitely more technologically advanced than yours.

moving the gear to drive, the car stumbles forward as it pulls out of the arena’s lot with headlights switched all the way on. heeseung has his seat leaning back, cannot wait on what he’ll get and be getting back at your home as he places his hand on your thigh.

-

why is the elevator ride so long?!

you stare at the rising number with both of your hands behind you, not even minding slipping on the coat that you were wearing because you can feel how hot heeseung’s touches are the whole time you’re driving back to your apartment.

speaking of heeseung, you took a peek from the corner of your eyes to see him staring at you, not breaking away as he trails behind you after parking the car in the basement and going to the elevator. both of you in your decelis’s lee heeseung basketball paraphernalia when you can feel the tension steadily building. because you know from the hooded eyes he gave you in that arena that he wants to celebrate his last victory with you.

the sound of the medal hanging on his chest creating thuds that harmonically tie with both of your footsteps. none of you said anything as heeseung lets you lead the way to your shared apartment. you can still imagine the distinct image of when you turn your head towards heeseung to see him biting his lip lower lip under the shining red traffic light, teasing you throughout the drive as he trails his hand up and down your thigh, closer and then farther to your core.

you can sense him leaning his figure on the wall beside the door, enclosing you with his body as you type in the keypad to unlock the door. the ringing chime tells both of you that the door is unlocked as you push open, already swiftly pulling your shoes off because you just know that it might slow you down with whatever you’ll be doing if you take your time. tugging your bag off of you as you walk and drop it with your coat on the nearest beanbag, the eerie silence makes you alert on every step you take.

“heeseung-“

you felt your body being turned around as heeseung pushed you to the wall. your breath being taken away by the small thud as he pushes his lips to yours, finally showing that passion he is holding back when he gives you his victory kiss. his hold on your cheek is gentle, but the way his lips mesh and move against yours is the opposite. you can feel the desperation and pent-up emotions flowing out, maybe because that’s one reason you never heard of him hooking up with someone as you can sense the frustrating grit of not getting off showing in his performance during his ball game.

your hands reach for his back as you playfully caress and tug the hair falling on his nape, making him gasp and let out such a hot low-toned chuckle before slipping his tongue into your gaping lips, exploring your mouth and trying your best to hold you close. to hold you and both of your babies close to him. he leans back and lets his forehead and nose caress against yours. both of your eyes close as you bask in his touch.

“you look so fucking good in my uniform.” he pecks your lips before giving kisses all over your face.

“your uniform is so comfortable to wear,” you reply as he groans, trailing his hand down your sides before resting by your waist with the bump, gripping it hard.

“all of my babies look so beautiful in wearing what’s mine.”

his words making you giggle as you grip his chin to make your lips connect, biting lightly on his pouting lip as you can sense his hands now underneath your top, feeling his touches on the skin that is two layers deep of tank top and bra you are wearing.

“sorry, kids. but i just have to thank your mom for sticking right by me,” he says a bit loudly as he caresses the bump before his hands move to your hips and thighs, lifting it up and making you gasp as you can feel how you are slightly lifted off of the floor.

“heeseung, aren’t we too heavy-“

instead, he lifts you higher against the wall and you can feel your top being dragged by it. cutting your words off as he connects his lips and grinds his crotch against yours.

“i can definitely lift heavier than you, woman. believe me and wrap yourself around me so i can ravage you.”

“shut the fuck up, you aren’t a literature student.” you giggle at his uncalled pretty words when you wrap your legs and arms around him, taking all three of you with him to your shared bedroom that is only being lit up by the orange-tinged lamp—making the entire atmosphere a bit more romantic. you try to move your weight to help him balance before he drops you down in front of your shared bed.

linking his lips with yours once again, his touches becoming more vulgar as he is not embarrassed to touch your breasts, making you gasp as you caress the exposed side of his uniform to feel the ridges of his ribs. his hands are raised as you tug his uniform off of him. the last time you looked at him this way was that night you two fucked and he look a bit more ripped than 8 months before—his muscles seemingly thicker from the workout he had to endure to maintain his body. his biceps and triceps are more pronounced from dribbling and shooting the ball to the basket as you can feel the cool traces of his skin because of his sweaty sheen meeting the cold weather. your lips trail from his to underneath his jaw, giving little suck as you trace them to his pronounced clavicle, remembering his sensitive nipples from the last time as you can hear his small moans from the combination of light pinching and sucking that blooms small but many amounts of your marks on him.

you turn both of your figures as you sit on the bed whilst heeseung peers down; him shaking his head at realizing what you're doing as you trace your fingertips on his abdomen.

“it’s your fucking victory, heeseung. you deserve it,” you mumbled as you give a kiss to his growing cock before tugging the band of his underwear down, seeing it bounce up in its semi-erect glory. you didn’t hesitate to spit on your palm and wrap your hand around it, stimulating his tip as he could feel the shivering spreading in his body.

“fuck-“ he spoke near a whisper as he leans his head back, showing the expanse of his neck from your position because you also can’t wait to ravage it with your marks. one hand stroking him and the other stimulating his own balls, he hisses as he felt your warm mouth taking him in, making him looking down to see you with your eyes close as you wet him, opening your eyes as you move your head back to examine his cock glistening with your saliva. his hand caressing softly of your hair as you continue to take him.

“ah hah…” heeseung moans as he has one hand on your head and another by your cheek, feeling it hallowing as you take him. the way you gag before pulling back as you cough makes him lean down to kiss your spit-covered lips before you push him away as you take his dick in your mouth once again. you can sense him getting longer and thicker as the blood flows into his dick when you push him deeper into your cavern once again, feeling the tip of your nose brushing his pelvis as you heard his groan getting louder, making you moan as it also stimulates him more.

the hand that was pushing your head suddenly pulled you away as heeseung went down on his knees to connect your lips, making him taste his own pre-cum that was ever-flowing as he felt the sliver of skin when both of your tank tops rested just above your belly. he lifts both his uniform and your tank top underneath off of your body as he is met with you in your black maternity bra and your bump where you have been incubating his kids for the last 8 months.

“ah…” you moan out as heeseung’s hand caress your sensitive nipple while he focuses on kissing your bump and the stretch marks it produces. he remembers clearly how you are always wearing the skin lotion that could help with your stretch mark after showering before going on your bed, making him stare at you who is in front of the mirror as he sees you gently spread the remedy on your skin. he also remembers how your face sometimes falls as you see the thick stretch marks, making him also pull out a little frown.

“you’re so fucking beautiful.” you heard his muffled words against where your stretch marks at as you reached behind you to unclasp your bra, letting your girls breathe as you try to rub them as you sensed how tender they are. dr. park said that it’s because you are on your way of producing milk and it is very normal to feel it so tender and full.

putting your hands behind you to support you upright while you push your upper body towards the bed, heeseung’s hand playfully snaps your underwear band before tugging it down along with your socks, taking in your naked self that he couldn’t help but think even in such situations as when he is practicing and even during the doctor's appointment as he sees you getting your ultrasound done.

“lay down for me,” you caught his voice as you turned your body and stretched to get a pillow so you could support your head. his touches and kisses litter your thighs as you feel his fan of breath on your moist core that dripping down your essence. you felt one of his fingers picking the dropping pre-cum before pushing into your opening.

you can’t see him from this angle—the baby bump not allowing you—as you can only feel and listen to what he is doing to you. the finger pushes past the opening and you can hear him let out an exhale from the way your walls engulf him.

“how are you still so fucking tight?” heeseung seemed to also wonder as he felt his finger being covered in your natural lubricant, hearing you say from the bed.

“it feels so wrong to fuck people when i’m pregnant with your child.”

“me as well.” your eyes widen as you hear his nonchalant confession before you can feel him pushing in and out his sole finger from your core. that is when you feel the wet muscle of his tongue flicking your clit before giving the nub its own suck. your legs curl as you put your legs on top of the mattress, making him groan as he pulls your hips so your legs don’t have anything to support on before he lets you wrap them around his shoulders.

your bump doesn’t allow you to tug on his hair as he deliciously devours you, making you grab onto your sheets until your knuckles turn white while one of the hands stimulates your lips to make it seem like he is kissing you. another moan is out of you as heeseung adds another finger and interchanges his fingers and tongue into your hole. you can feel yourself getting tight as the band of your stomach is so close to being snapped.

“i’m going to fucking cum-“ you said in such a raspy voice as heeseung doesn’t stop, teasingly adding a third finger as you feel the band snap and you cumming on three of his fingers, making it much easier for him to penetrate you when you heard him hum as he licks the spillage from your cum. the sound of his heels planting on the floor makes your breath hitch as he rises from the floor, wiping the corner of his mouth as you can’t help but giggle and roll your eyes.

“take me like this.” you moved the pillow from your head to your hips as heeseung stood in between your legs that he was holding in both of his hands before leaning it against his torso. you can finally feel the head of his cock as it nudges your entrance, making you roll your eyes back as he kisses the calves of your outstretched leg against his body. when you sense his head pushing to stretch your lower lips, you let out a huge exhale and feel your arousal slowly being satisfied. your natural lubricant easily takes him in as he moves his body forward. both of your jaws slack as you sense him inside you, making you feel full once again after a long time.

“you’re so tight, mama,” he spoke in such a pet name that you could feel your warm face getting warmer with the rush of blood. heeseung’s gentle touches contrast with the rough ones he gave during your one-night-stand as he is reminded of the babies now existing between the two of you. you nodded your head as you reached for his hand that was gripping your waist, making him move in and out of you at a faster pace.

“fuck, you make me full, daddy.” you see how heeseung grins as he continues to thrust into you. he has his lips move from fully open to biting as he looks at your face reacting to each movement, wanting to kiss your delectable lips but knowing that he can’t because he doesn’t want to press up his kids. so, he lets his body move that thought to how he thrust in you and feeling how you reacted to that. your legs curling from the sensation as he moves his hand to your boob, groping it as you grab the hand to lock it with yours. you let out similar doe-like eyes like what he usually shows as you let out a raspy sound every time he plunges deep inside.

with your mind slowly floating from your head, you can feel the dizziness associated with laying down on your back for too long as you let your fingers out from his and wrap them around his wrist, hard.

the tight grip alerts heeseung as he sees you trying to push yourself up to sit down. pulling himself out as you felt the air in your gaping hole from his thick dick, you sit on the bed and grab his cheeks to bring his lips to yours. finally tasting him once again as you both tease the heck out of each other when both of you bite your respective bottom lips to make you both counter with something else. heeseung doesn’t hesitate to let his teeth bite your bottom lips before you let your tongue slip in and push into his mouth so you can battle each other.

letting him go and with a push so he steps away, you turn your body around and fold your body as you rested both of your feet on the ground and your upper body on the bed. your belly hanging from the suspension as you present yourself to heeseung who is groaning behind you.

“look at you, nasty girl who is slutting yourself for me,” he words out as you feel his slap on your ass, making you wiggle your hips.

“i’m your fucking slut, hee,” you said with your head turning towards him, a smile growing on your face as you felt the familiar sensation of his head plunging through your lower lips. you lean your head down on the pillow as he drives into you, making you let out a muffled moan as heeseung traces his hand down your spine.

“my slut who allows me to breed her.” you moan out as you listen to how his breeding kink is coming back. your belly jiggles along with each thrust as you lay your head on the pillow, turning your head to the side to watch your hand forming a fist before a hand reaches down to open the curled up fingers and place it down flat on the mattress: his hand enveloping yours as he curls his fingers into you. you can feel breathing against your ear as heeseung bites into your shoulder, marking you down as his while his thrust doesn’t stop.

“i’ll gladly breed you again and again.”

“fuck, daddy.”

“yeah, you like what daddy tell you, mama?”

you hummed as heeseung had his other hand pressing down your upper back so you could feel his tip kissing your cervix that is protecting your babies. yet, it still stimulates you so much that heeseung sees tears falling down the corner of your eyes, licking it up with his tongue.

“don’t hold back, shit, breed me, hee.”

heeseung—excited—grasps underneath both of your elbows as he pulls your limp body back, making you arch towards him as he makes his pace faster. your head leans back as you can’t even close your jaw, silent screaming coming out of you as he takes you in its entirety. you feel his lips kissing your head before you limp forward to let your head hang as he rests his own just behind your nape.

“you’re taking me so fucking well, (y/n). body just for me.”

he spoke as you felt your walls clamping up against him when his kisses contrasted with his thrust. heeseung feels your body trembling as he reaches his hand around to rub your clit, making you squirm once again as you mumbled, “c-cum…”

“cum for me, baby.” that is followed by your exasperated, pornographic moan as you can see white flashes while you cum, feeling heeseung’s thrust slowing down as he wraps his hand across your body now. with his own moans entering your ear, you can feel his cum staining your walls. both of you have to slow down to breathe well when you felt him kiss your shoulder blades before he pulls out, making a few of both of your cum fall down to the floor and trail down your thighs.

yet, your libido is still ongoing as you tug on his hand that is wrapped around your body. you turned around between his arms, thighs closing in on each other as you kissed his swollen lips so none of your essences would fall out again—because of your kink.

“sit down against the headboard for me,” you whisper against his lips before lazily kissing him once again as you let go to see him climbing on top of your shared bed and resting right in the middle of it. sheets already crumpled as he rearranged the pillows for his head and back on the headboard. his legs are stretched out in front of him and his arms resting behind his head. his face tells you to take him like he takes you, especially with his cock that is getting erect once again after seeing your hungry eyes.

you slowly crawl up to him on your hands and knees and widen your legs to slot him in between you. in the kneeling position, you crawl to his lap as his hands shoot to grab your waist, helping you as you grip his thick cock in your hand and bringing him to your entrance, slowly sinking down as your hands move to grip his upper arms. with such a fast pace coming from the last round exhausting both of you, you wanted to make this one slow—reminiscent of the unspoken tiebreaker between you two when you can feel a different feeling you have of him from the familiar ones you always get when you argue the hell out of each other. that feeling has bloomed throughout this journey as labels changed in so many turns and iterations. and here you are, sitting with heeseung inside of you, just taking in your feelings for each other as your zen mindset comes back to the ones you usually have during your daily ritual.

your hands wrapped around his back as you slowly move against him, not breaking eye contact even with how good the feeling of him rearranging your walls again, feeling every ridge of him against you. this position finally allows him to caress your body more, allowing his hand to softly soothe your bump as he can’t imagine how shocking this might have been for the babies. it allows him to hold on to your growing breasts that are producing milk for them, making you hiss as you continue to let him message them so that they’re not too stiff. it allows him to lean forward and kiss your own swollen lips with his, seeing the excess of your eyeshadows being smeared by your tears from how hard and delicious he had fucked you. it allows him to make hickeys on you, indent from bite marks alongside the skin turning dark littering the neck and collarbone, showing people you are his. it also allows you to do the same, creating abstract art between the two planes of his skin from the promise you made to yourself.

when he leans back to rest his upper body against the headboard, you ask him the dreaded question—not even slowing down your pace as you still continue to move.

“what are we?”

heeseung stops you from moving, knowing the severity of the question as he seems to read your face. you could see his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed down, all of your senses seemed to become so hypersensitive that even you could feel the small pinprick of pain in your skin cells at the way heeseung broke it to create one hickey on your neck. you see his eyes darting to different points of your face, also trying to read what you’re thinking.

“from the rivals to future parents to fake dating, i, i can’t pinpoint one.” you tried to voice out your answer, making heeseung seem much more comfortable in doing his bid.

“i refer to you as my girlfriend multiple times since it’s easier for naïve people to understand. but, i agree with you 100% that defining us.” he points between the two of you, “it’s hard.”

“hmm…” you nodded your head before lolling to the side, moving your hips so slowly just so that you also don’t make limbs too numb. “well, do you actually like me?”

“like you?”

“romantically, do you?” you let out a pout that makes him poke his finger to your cheek before you return it by scowling. it takes long for him to reply. a few breaths are taken and leave as you also allow yourself to match his rhythm as you slowly chase both of your highs. the way your facial changes expresses what emotions you are feeling: wonder from the way your eyes seemed to sparkle, fear as he sees that light dimming down, anger at how long he replied as he sees you wanting to poke tongue to your cheek. it switches even in such a minuscule way. but heeseung got to be reminded as to why he didn’t stop you or himself from following on this path.

“i do like you like that. romantically.”

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, feeling the weight transfer to yours as you think of the past months, the ever-changing label, and the ever-changing feelings you have for him.

“me too. i do like you like that too.” you start to move faster as your grip on his torso tightens, “but calling us boyfriend and girlfriend will be too inappropriate cause we don’t have dates.”

“what about when it’s just the two of us?”

“the appointments, really heeseung?” you can see his smile widening, “you call those dates?”

“i can call that a date because we usually eat after each appointment,” he answers with the right vigor as you change the way you see. that, hey, maybe they are dates.

that’s when you laugh right in front of him, “we’re really doing it backward. the have-a-baby to can-i-have-this-date route.”

heeseung also laughs at your new phrasing, trying to define what your relationship is as he helps move your hips faster with his hold. yet, not wanting to make you two seem so haggard to discuss something so vulnerable.

“maybe companionship is the right word,” he said, lifting his hand to brush away the hair that is sticking to your skin. he sees you gnawing your lips as you nod, bringing him to your embrace as you move faster, feeling his shortness of breath by your skin as you nip on his earlobe.

“companionship is a great phrase,” you sense heeseung’s head nodding beside your own head. yet, you continue, “but i’m also ready to fall in love with you.”

heeseung pulls your chest off of his as he looks into your eyes, your lips parted as you breathe out, not wanting to stop because you can feel just how tight your walls are sticking onto him. he leans his head close to you, rubbing his forehead on yours as he brushing his nose tip with yours, one of his hands moving from your hip to your belly that is carrying his children. your children.

our children, heeseung corrects himself.

“i’m also ready. if you let me,” he replied, making you nod your head as you leaned forward to connect your lips to his. he leaned back and brought you along so he could sit against the headboard, helping to hold your hips as he helped his hips move to chase down both of your climaxes. you stare at each other in proximity, a smile growing on your face as you kiss his temple, enveloping him in your arms.

“i’m close-“ your breath hitches as he doesn’t stop. you helped by rubbing your fingers to your clit as your mouth widen, a silent moan coming out of you as you kiss him while you heard his muffled groan, feeling your walls a tad bit relaxed as he rides your climax and chasing his own. his grip on you is so tight that you can sense the weight of gravity that seems to bring you and him down, feeling his release within your walls as it drips onto his lap. you lap his lips with your tongue like before when heeseung then connect it with his, pouring out the remaining unspoken emotion you felt for each other before you both retreated, feeling his breath combining with yours.

“whose gonna shower first?” he asked.

“of course you. you are so grimy it’s actually disgustin-“

he pushes you so you fall from his lap and land on the empty space on the bed, making it easier for you to push him out as he had tired you, body and soul. as you see his butt naked self walking towards the bathroom outside of your room, you still think that you can’t believe he calls you his and how he allows you to call him yours.

-

5. that's our lamp and that's where you love us

you know that you’ll not be getting the whole 40 weeks of pregnancy experience when you have twins. average twins are born in week 37 to 38. well… you are now in week 36 and you just want the babies to come out!

the braxton hicks contraction is driving you crazy as you can see heeseung panicking beside you whenever it comes. with the postponement of your internship—allowed by the uni—you just want the babies to come as fast as possible that you might want to come to the hospital so that dr. park can break your water. heeseung sits beside you, letting out his hee hee hoos as you follow along with the exercise before you change your sitting position to feel it disappear.

“another fucking braxton hicks, goddamnit.”

heeseung can only shake his head, seeing his companion wanting to let it end and actually getting crankier every day when it is getting closer to the due date. he has been helping with the living situation, especially when it comes to cooking based on the recipes ryujin gave to him when you just seemed to not be able to cook anymore because of the sudden contractions. but your appetite is getting lower because you don’t have the thought of it with the pain you are in. he has tried contacting the doula for questions but her answer is to try to calm you down and make you relax. or to distract your crankiness towards something else. for him, his answer is mario kart 8.

“can it get any faster?” you are practically screaming as you sit on the beanbag with heeseung sitting on his own. the projector between you projecting his pc’s desktop of mario kart 8 as you race through maple treeway track.

“babe, we’re already in 200cc. you’ll get a bullet bill and it’s going to be okay.”

“i fucking know,” you answered, but he didn’t reply as hard because he knows that it was just your hormone reaction. you can watch your wiggler racing through the position as the number rises. the box on the corner shows that you’ve gotten a star and you don’t hesitate to use it; making the likes of donkey kong, mario, and baby bowser bounce out of the way as you are approaching heeseung’s yoshi who is in 1st place. going up the half-pipe of the maple treeway track is when you get the three red shells by being in 3rd place, knocking princess peach out of 2nd place as this is the final and tiebreaker course for both of you.

you almost want to press to throw your red shell when you see a blue shell flying, aiming towards heeseung.

“blue shell!”

“oh fuck-“ heeseung can’t avoid it as the blue shell hits him while he is gliding to the last section of the course, making you fly past him as you have the red shell prepare to throw backward. you quickly drive above the tree roots and throw your red shell behind you, hitting heeseung one last time before crossing the finish line.

“YES!”

you cheer from your beanbag as you lean back, feeling it soften your impact as you close your eyes and rub your face with your hands. you can hear heeseung’s voice when he tells you “good game”.

“gg to you as well, babe,” you replied, feeling yourself much more relaxed than ever as you felt the fake contraction gone.

but that’s also when you feel your crotch is wet.

as you see the projector showing you the trophy of your win, you don’t hesitate to plunge your fingers in between your thighs inside your pants as you can feel the overwhelming wetness coming out of you.

“heeseung?!”

“what? you’ve won-“

his eyes gaze at your glistening fingers to your shocked yet measured face.

“it’s time.”

“it’s time?” heeseung asked, his mind’s wiring not right as he saw you standing up, wobbling from your weight. but he also sees the front of your crotch all wet and the beanbag being the collateral damage.

“oh fuck, it’s time- okay.”

he rapidly moves to the babies’ room where he already has the bags packed for your hospital trip as you turn off his nintendo switch. he helped you wear one of his sweatpants to cover the stain as he brought you out of your apartment and brought you to the elevator. you can feel one contraction coming as you hold on to the elevator wall, eyes on your phone as you count the seconds in your head.

“40 seconds…” you mumbled as you arrived in the basement, “remember it’s 40 seconds…”

“yeah yeah. stay here, i’ll bring the car to you.” heeseung ran towards the car as you stood there, eyeing the phone as you called dr. park to tell her you were on your way to the hospital. you can hear the ringing of the phone by your ear before the call is picked up.

“hi, (y/n). i was just going to go back home-“

“my water broke, and, and, we’re on our way to the hospital.”

“oh my- okay, we’re having the room prepared for you.”

“thank you.” you hang up the call as you then move to call haseul when you hear the wheel skid in front of you as heeseung helps you in the car before scurrying away to the hospital.

“how’s your contraction?” you hear her ask.

“it’s in 40 seconds and- ugh…” you can feel another contraction coming as heeseung takes one glance at you before going to the road. you see the minute from the clock on the center dashboard of the car console as you mentioned to haseul, “10 minutes.”

“you’re in early labor. i’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?”

“great, thank you.”

heeseung had his eyes on the road as he overheard you calling your parents and his parents, not stopping until he had parked in front of the ICU to call one of the staff.

“my girlfriend’s in labor.” he voices out in panic, seeing a few staff gathering around you as heeseung leaves you alone to park the car.

you were brought into the vicinity by a wheelchair as you mentioned your name to the receptionist. recognizing your name, one staff told you that your hospital room is currently in preparation as two nurses come to take care of you. the nurse brings you to the room as you are greeted with dr. park who is asking you for your contraction, which you have counted to make you sane as you can feel the expanding pain across your body now.

“last time, it was 40 seconds and 10 minutes. the last contraction is 35 seconds-“

“okay, okay. let me check your dilation okay? your bathtub is being prepared as well as the midwives,” the doctor said, making you nod your head as she helped undress you and put you in the hospital gown.

now you understand why people want a fast and safe labor. it fucking hurts as hell, like a tiger munching away through your hip joints kind of hurt—not that you have experienced it yourself, but any kind of hyperbolic phrase you could think of cannot compare to this amount of pain. you had no other choice but to exaggerate because this is the most pain you have ever felt in your life.

“3 cm in dilation…” dr. park mentioned as you see one nurse helping you with checking your pulse when you feel yourself getting another contraction, sensing your womb’s clenches so hard against itself.

“8 minutes…” you voiced after looking at your phone. the doctor nodded her head as she went out of the room to check on the other things for your active labor. the nurses helping in prepare the room as you asked one of them, “when is it the right time to move to the tub?”

“usually when you’re in active labor, it’s 10 cm in dilation. but we can put you in the tub by 7 cm,” she answered rapidly, preparing the machines near you for later as you are prepared to go to your waterbirth room soon. you hear the swift footsteps approaching your room from outside as you see haseul alongside heeseung there. he instantly drops the bags to the side as he grabs your face, giving you a few kisses to pacify you as you can actually see tears also running down his face.

“what’s the dilation?” haseul questioned, furrowed eyebrows showing as she sees your body curling up from the pain.

“3 cm,” you replied, holding onto heeseung as you could feel another contraction incoming.

“we have to make her dilate faster cause she’ll be going into active labor in minutes now. can you dance with her, heeseung? just slowly.”

“i’ll try,” he said as he held you by your waist, swaying you from side to side as you heard him hum a song.

ever since your revelations towards each other, most of your time has been spent with him. sometimes you even dance around in your living room just because you want to, letting him know the mitski songs you have inherited in your mind and heart. how you also cathartically sing to them as heeseung has to take in the lyrics, because of how complex it is with its layers of analogies and metaphors. though slower, you let him guide you into a state of lull as your face shows him just how in agony you are to him.

heeseung feels guilty as fuck seeing you like this, knowing that you are the only one who holds onto the pain to deliver his children. he had wished there is some technology out that could let him share the pain to help alleviate yours because seeing you only mumble out words as haseul help you sip on your sippy cup while trying to make you ready is hard to look at. heeseung holds you so close, feeling your body quivering as you let out another moan from another contraction. with haseul beside you, she helps in counting down the contraction while the nurse you asked for information is standing by as they will help in checking your dilation. he could help distract you by nipping your earlobe as you gaze at him, making him caress your face so softly when he can hear the vibrating phone coming from his and yours as your family and friends are on their way to the hospital.

“6 cm.” the nurse checked your dilation as haseul added, “50 to 60 seconds every 4 minutes. do you wanna go to the tub, (y/n)?”

“yes, please.” you take a sharp intake as the nurse helps to bring you to the waterbirth labor room. haseul walks beside you as she elaborates on a few more important things because she can’t be with you during it as it is only family, talking to both you and heeseung.

“since you’re going to have twins, they’re will be a 3 to 30-minute interval between your labor. i’m hoping that after baby 1 is born, you can push out baby 2 immediately if the midwife gives you the ready sign to know if the baby is positioned correctly. we will be more concerned with baby 2 and we can give you an option to do partial waterbirth so you can birth no. 2 outside the tub. luckily, the midwives here have numerous water birth experiences and have the skill to give birth to multiples with water birth. will that be okay for you?”

“most definitely okay,” heeseung replied for you as the nurse sped to the room first when he stopped haseul, “how can i help?”

“when it comes to water birth, the midwives usually allow the partner to step inside the tub to help them. an advantage for the partner that normal or caesarian birth doesn’t give. are you okay with being in the tub with her?”

“i’m okay with that.” heeseung doesn’t hesitate to reply, making haseul taps his shoulder as she tells him to call him when you’ve given birth before she is leaving. heeseung watches the woman who has helped both of you so much walking away before bringing himself to you once again.

inside the labor room, he could see the hecticness of the midwives and nurses as they helped to pull your gown off your body, leaving you in your bra as he saw dr. park giving you an injection in your lower back before turning towards him.

“this is anesthesia to help her feel less pain. are you here to be with her?”

he nodded before saying his complete answer, “please let me in the tub with her…”

“of course, you can. we can help bring you water and such for her.” dr. park said as the nurses seemed to pick up what she was saying—already on their way to prepare for the stuff that can help him and you. heeseung walks to where you are, seeing one midwife checking your dilation before nodding her head to the doctor. he takes off his top and lets his shorts on as you feel his touch from behind you, seeing him stepping inside as well after you.

“slowly…” he whispered to your ear as you tilt your head to him, seeing him guiding you to kneel into the bathtub.

“hi…”

“hey,” he replied to your weak greeting.

“i don’t think you want to join me in the tub. it could get bloody and it’ll be pretty disgusting.” you slur out your words as heeseung sees the midwives preparing on the other side of the tub. both of you kneel as you feel the water rising to your waist before he is the one laying down first, tapping his thighs so you can sit down on them.

“i’ve seen you bloody before when you got a nosebleed after i threw the basketball too hard at you and we have showered together before. this definitely will be the highlight of our relationship,” heeseung jokingly said before tugging you into his embrace, feeling your body shaking as another contraction is currently ongoing.

“remember your hee hee hoos, babe,” he whispered to your ear as you nodded, the midwives checking in on you as you are now in active labor.

“i will signal you to push when it is time, miss (l/n). do your breathing exercise,” the midwife says beside you as you see dr. park in her surgeon outfit, ready to help you as best as she can. your tired eyes are now wide open as you feel a surge of force within you from hearing what she said, enough force that turns into strength as you have one mission blaring in your mind.

to deliver your babies as safe as possible.

“okay, when you feel your muscles contracting, count down and push okay?” you nodded your head as you felt heeseung kissing your temple to soothe you. his eyes full of admiration as he can see your face being alive once again. you grunt as you feel the contraction—starting your breathing exercise.

“this one is a push. 1, 2, push.”

you let out a scream as you can feel the movement from underneath you, trying your best to push with your might as you can feel the weird sensation of pushing out like you were called by nature. but this, now this actually hurts.

“good job, two more pushes. ready when you are,” the midwife continues as two of them inspect from the side. heeseung has his lips near your ear. you can hear him whisper.

“they’re almost here, you can do it, (y/n).” his voice sounded so soft, rather low timbre as he helped you relax.

you’ve gone through the next two pushes, and are now on a pause as you awaited your next contraction before pushing again and again. right now, you feel both the most powerful and most helpless you have ever been. everything depends on you and the way your body’s primal instinct kicks in as you just want baby no. 1 to get out. blood has mixed with water as your mucous plug broke making you feel helpless once again because you are the only one being able to deliver the birth. all the others—including the midwives, dr. park, and heeseung—are there to support you in your painful moment. that’s when you feel it, the dreaded ring of fire that haseul has told you about.

you let out such a primal scream that you can feel your voice box getting sore as the ring of fire burns with your skin stretching from it, hearing the midwives and doctor talking about the crowning as heeseung focused on giving you water to drink from behind you. he could only be there as a hand to hold from you, feeling your nails breaking through his skin as he also bleeds. but he has all his focus on you.

the burning hurts so bad but when you feel the big part coming out from one final push, the rest feels like a slug as you see one of the midwives have their gloved hands inside the crimson water. your head leans back against heeseung’s shoulder as he sees the other midwife bringing the surgical scissor when he sees a blurry small silhouette of a grayish being. the other midwife immediately clamps the cord that is hanging out of your canal as you are reminded of how twins share a placenta.

heeseung’s eyes seemed too focused on the small figure being carried away when he felt your trembling body slow as the other midwife pressed her hands up against your belly, feeling if baby 2 was in the right position or not. the midwife gave him a nod as he looked down to see you nearly passed out; your eyes were blurry as you looked at the shining light from above you before it was covered by his face.

“you’re doing so well, baby. one more left,” he said as he eased to pivot your head, letting his lips placed against you as you could feel yourself waking up. that and the loud sound of a baby crying as you and heeseung look towards the source. seeing the crowd opens up as the midwife and dr. park helps examine the baby to see if they’re healthy. he can hear your exasperated laugh as you let out such a wide smile that makes his heart calm, making him rub your bump carefully as he also stares at the location of where his baby is.

the midwife responsible for them approaches you with a bundle in a towel, making your weak body sit up as you carefully position your hands so that she can put the baby into your hold. when you look at them, you can’t control your tears as the midwife helps to push the towel to let your skin touch the baby’s.

“it’s the boy…” the midwife says as the other ones are talking with the doctor about your second twin’s condition. his eyes are open and you can’t help but coo when you look at him, hearing his cry calming down when he senses your skin. the color coming to his skin as you heard heeseung gasp from behind you while you felt your heart beating faster as you watched his little face. heeseung’s head rested on your shoulder as both of you were speechless.

his head nudges to yours as you can feel the familiar contraction building up once again. your head already has one thing in your mind as you stare at baby no. 1. that you are going to deliver his sister as safe and clear as he is.

-

“she’s sleeping right now.” heeseung said as he turned around to see you sitting with your back leaning against the lifted upper half of the hospital bed, suspending you as you unconsciously hold on to both of your babies who are resting their cheeks against your skin.

your parents and his parents arrived on time when the nurses escorted your sleeping self to your room. heeseung beside the two incubators with a towel around his torso, gazing at the two newborn babies as they move around and wiggle their limbs, seeing their chubby cheeks as they gaze around the room with both confusion and wonder. to see the light outside of your womb for the first time while the nurses and midwives check their conditions and record them as part of society. he sensed his mom’s hand wrapped around his shoulder, hearing her sniffles as she cooed at the baby.

“be patient, dearest. you’ll be brought to your mama soon,” he recalls hearing his mom say while her son can only stare at them, a smile urging to come out as he can feel the tears of joy forming once again.

turning to face the people, he watches the faces of his friends gazing at their new niece and nephew with various versions of happiness—some including tears. he sees ryujin having both arms behind chaeryeong, who is looking giddy, and minjeong, who is snorting into the tissues she’s holding.

“what are their names?” he hears jimin say, seeing his rare pout as he eyes all three of the sleeping figures.

“we’ve decided on it and we named them siwoo and siah,” heeseung replied with the names you and he had chosen together nearly two weeks before their arrival.

“lee siwoo and lee siah…” minjeong mumbles out, hearing the pitch of her voice rising before she weeps once again to her tissue, making ryujin tug her head to the crook of her neck.

“how are you feeling, hee?” jeongin innocently asked before beomgyu cut him off.

“what do you mean ‘how is he feeling’? he’s freaking crying,” the boy pointed out as heeseung sensed the dried tear tracks on his cheeks before another set seem to threaten to fall. yet, it is still vague for them to actually read what they meant.

“aww, heeseung…” chaeryeong coos as heeseung walks to the extra bed beside yours and sits down, rubbing the areas near both of his eyes with his hands as he felt chaeryeong sits beside him and soothing him down with a hand on his back—he now understands why you seem to love chaeryeong’s hugs so much. he bites his bottom lip to hold himself to not let a tear fall again. yet he failed once again when he looks up to see you holding both of your babies in your arms.

“i’m so fucking proud of her and i just feel awful that she’s the only that could feel that immense amount of pain,” he said his truth, wiping the tears with the hand that has a bandage brandishing his lower arm from the scratch you gave him as you gave birth. the only physical evidence of your pain that he can fully feel. chaeryeong’s soothing hand continues to calm him down as he senses another weight sitting by his side when a hand comes to push him closer to that side, smelling the familiar fragrance of beomgyu as he tucks heeseung’s head to his crook while he lightly messaged his arm.

“you’re going to be the best dad, hee,” beomgyu said as he watched the rest of them nodding their head. yet his eyes are stuck to your sleeping form, feeling the spark now catching fire as he had found the light at the end of the tunnel of guilt, shame, and despair for not being there enough for you for the past months and especially today.

to be the same dad for them and the best boyfriend for you.

-

the same thing couldn’t be said to you as you can feel your mood swinging about when you come home with the babies.

haseul has been helping you within the apartment as she teaches you to use the milk pumper and prepare the breastmilk for them, teaching you various tips to get your pre-pregnancy body back as you felt the belly wrap bound tight around you when you sleep in your shared bed. that’s when the baby monitor turns on when you hear the sound of one of the babies waking you up from the room across yours.

you sit up on the bed, no wick of sleep clear on your face, as heeseung stirs in his sleep when the baby’s cry gets louder from the speaker.

“whose turn is it?” he mumbles, as you stare down at him beside you. you have done graveyard shifts of taking care of your babies numerous times as heeseung couldn’t keep schedule because of his internship. so it is supposed to be his turn now to care for them.

“it’s my turn,” you replied, letting him sleep once again as you heard him hum and slip away into the slumber. his hand reaching to grasp yours before letting out a “good luck” that he has always given to you when it’s your turn to take care of them on the latest of nights.

you step out of your shared bed as you make your way across to the babies’ room to see siah wriggling in her crib, making you walk quickly so that she doesn’t wake her brother up. slowly picking her up, you lift your oversized t-shirt as you brought her lips to one of your nipples.

“come on. latch,” you mumbled as you support siah’s head as best as you can when you felt her latch onto your boob, sucking on the nipples as you feel the milk coming out so she could consume it.

“you’re a hungry, hungry baby, are you?” you lightly nagged her as you stood still, looking at siwoo who was sleeping peacefully with his pacifier even though his sister was crying her heart out. you eyed the room that you and heeseung had decorated as best as you could with the budget you set and your unpredictable schedule of staying here longer or leaving within the year of the rent. in one corner of the room sits the baby gifts people brought to the baby shower. you see the silhouette of the baby car seats you can imagine them using when they’re older so you can take them out and the set pajamas that were bought by heeseung’s family member before you turn to look at the decoration hanging from both of the cribs of animals and stars. another gift from the pile of gifts.

you rested siah’s head on your shoulder and you lightly pat her back, helping her to digest the milk she was drinking—doing everything haseul, mama, heeseung’s mom, and jeongin’s mom have told you. hearing the small burp coming out from her, you wanted to put her down so she could sleep when you sensed her gripping onto your lifted shirt, not wanting to let you go just yet. you sigh as you step to one of their cabinets to find the baby wrap, placing her on the changing station as you wrap the soft, stretchy fabric around your upper body before placing her in her designated slot; securing her legs with the wrap holding onto you tight as taught by haseul who teaches you the right way to use it.

heeseung’s hand reaches for your side, expecting to meet your body or at least your hand in his touch when he feels... nothing.

nothing but your unkept side of the comforter and the creases of the bedsheets as they are the remaining of your being.

he remembered he was woken up by the sound of the baby crying from the monitor. but with it now gone, he was already expecting you to come back to him. yet when he taps more around the surroundings of your supposed side of the bed, his eyes instantly open to see the dark empty space where you should’ve been. he doesn’t care that he has such heavy lids and wobbling steps, he just wants you back in his arms as he sleeps through the night.

opening the door to the babies’s room, he didn’t find your apparatus by the crib soothing one of the babies. heeseung lets his body glide towards the cribs, rubbing the edge of his eyes to make him awake. he eyes siwoo’s crib to find him there, looking like a cute sleepy angel. but he can’t call the same about siah’s as he finds it empty.

“(y/n)?” he calls for you, voice so small with a raspy throat as he didn’t hear your answer, waking him up with a jolt as he realizes that both you and siah aren’t here in the room.

his feet—still wobbly as fuck—brought him to the hallway as his eyes adjust to the dark; seeing the nightlight and his rgb light turned on in the living area helps him to search easier. that’s when he picked up such a clear gush of wind when he turned towards the balcony to see its sheer curtain flowing inside. he then scanned the room to discover one beanbag missing from the other as he approached the window to see it being sat by someone. someone who is sobbing.

drifting the sheer curtain away to the side, heeseung finds the face of his daughter on top of the shaking shoulder wearing a familiar pajama set. head leaning down to the front as the figure adjusts its weight on the beanbag. your hands covering your face as heeseung figures out the sound of the muffled sob coming from you.

“(y/n)?”

you jumped and turned your head around to find heeseung’s alert figure, feeling the weight of siah on you as you wrapped the cloth so tight that it was secure for you to move safely before turning back to gaze at the 3 am sky on the balcony.

“go to sleep. you have work in the morning,” you mumbled out, rubbing your hands against each other.

“i will not sleep if you aren’t,” he answered, joining you as he stepped forward to lean against the railing. the cold wind woke him up as he heard your remaining sniffles, eyes gazing at you as the tranquility seemed to turn your tear’s faucet on once again. he hasn’t noticed just how deep your panda eyes have become, knowing that the babies have awoken you for feeding time at ungodly hours. but that’s when realize how jittery you also become, how you don’t eat as much as you focus on returning your body back to how it was before you’re pregnant; how you can’t seem to define yourself after giving birth.

“i don’t think i’ll be anything other than a mom.”

his ears perk up and he swallows his saliva, processing just how concise yet poignant your words are. reminding him that you have your own perspectives, too.

“i, i don’t know. how can i be anything other than a mom when i’m here, even with all the preparation we've done, still isn’t ready to face it…”

baby blues, he remembered the doula told him as he saw you taking care of the two babies while haseul helped in cleaning the baby bottles up for you.

“you have to be prepared if she got baby blues, heeseung. especially since she’s taking care of two now. she may be hiding some things for you, but you can see it when you see it.”

“how could i help her?” heeseung said, seeing you with siah wrapped with the stretchy cloth on your back as siwoo is currently feeding off of you. a slight glow on your skin as you seem to lightly rock your body to satisfy both of them at the same time.

“help her make time for herself. she is also human with her own mind, body, and soul. help her take care of herself first by taking charge to care for both siah and siwoo.” haseul replied, turning her head so he could see her smirk of acknowledgment—heeseung is one of her students that she is proud of alongside you.

“i know you can.”

“you are also everything including being a mom, (l/n)(y/n),” he spoke, kneeling down beside your figure on the beanbag as he watched your eyes swell.

“you are your parents’ daughter. you are getting a degree in business. you are part of the most chaotic group of friends in the existence of the world. you are a caretaker of so many children who would remember just how fun you are. you’re a guitarist who can keep up and jam out with musicians. you’re a mitski fan who likes to cathartically sing your heart out to her songs. you’re a film watcher and you love japanese movies so much.” heeseung gently grasps both of your chilly hands as he monologues, seeing your swollen eyes closer under the light from the balcony’s ceiling.

“and, you’re my girl. i’m your boy. and i do think you need to embrace that more. let me take care of you.”

you let out a big exhale as a smirk pulls out of you. “if you do, well, take care of me. who would take care of the babies?”

“i would, your parents and my parents would,” he answered, big doe-like eyes trying his best to convince you, “share your burden with me, especially when i’m under your arsenal. i can definitely ask my supervisor to allow me parental leave so i can have time to take care of you and the babies. you can even apply for work-from-home internships during that.”

“then our rivalry will just… stop?” you jokingly asked, but genuinely.

“make it more of like a friendly or romantic rivalry,” he says, leaning upwards as he pecks on siah’s sleeping head on your shoulder. “besides, how could i compete with you if we aren’t on equal terms?”

you hummed as you felt him moving towards your face, kissing your forehead before trailing down to your nose bridge, your eyelids, your cheeks, then your lips—feeling the flattery jump-starting inside you.

“you’re stuck with me now, lee,” you mumbled against his lips, feeling his hand helping you to stand up from the beanbag as he gently held you, foreheads connected as he stared into your eyes that are also sparkling like what the night sky has.

“i’ve been stuck by you for years now and i’ll gladly stick onto you until the fucking heat death of the universe.”

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @heesw1fe @aloverga @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @reallysmolrenjun @stelanity @deobitifull @mheretoreadff @gandaengene @amaraeofsunshine @possibly-zoe0218 @enhypenilycometoaus @jaysupremacy @jungwoneez @iwuvjay @erenshawtybae @nctislifue @vixensss @smilefordongil @lhspeachie @b9chira

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[suguwife]

Executive Tensions. (one)

tags: exbf!Gojo Satoru x f!reader, CEO x secretary, porn with plot, 18+ explicit sexual content, mdni, masturbating, slow burn, mentions of cheating, forced proximity, mini series

- 9.7k wc

a/n: this is the backstory to reader x gojo - angry heated one shot for this is in part two !!

(part two)

You had just posted a story on your Instagram, a picture of flowers that your new boyfriend gave you. Baby pink peonies, a big bouquet of them in the shape of a heart.

Only a few minutes after posting the photo, your phone vibrated, and your heart skipped a beat seeing your ex boyfriend’s name appear on your screen, Satoru. The message was simple and yet it made your heart beat faster. You shouldn’t be feeling like this, you hate him.

“He doesn't know that you prefer actual luxury gifts?” Was the first message he sent you in months, four months since the breakup. Why is he viewing your story?

You respond after a couple minutes with “I like flowers now.” Its an obvious lie. You knew he’d know. You had always been materialistic, you found gifts and money more efficient over flowers that would die anyway.

“You're lying.” He replied within seconds, obsessed much.

He had to admit, after stalking your socials for a little while, your new boyfriend seemed to make you happy, or at least that's the image you projected.

It was annoying, it made him feel sick to think that someone else could make you smile like that, or even more.

You reply after a couple minutes again, “Well I like flowers now. Stop texting me I already removed you as a follower.”

His jaw clenched and his grip on his phone tightened, seeing your reply, he wasn't expecting you to be so cold with him. But of course you would be, in a way he deserved that. “You didn't remove me, stop lying.”

“I just did.”

“Why? did your new boyfriend tell you to do that?”

He double texts another message, “Is he that insecure? Does he not want you interacting with your ex ‘cause he’s scared?”

You scoff a laugh in disbelief at his accusations, ironic coming from him. He seems to be the insecure one here. “No, I decided to remove you. Stop being so irritating.”

He doesn’t respond to that, he just re-reads over the conversation on his phone a couple times like an obsessive freak before throwing his phone on the bed and running his hand through his hair, “Fuck..”

Laying on his bed, he stared up at the ceiling and clenching his jaw as the image of you with your new boyfriend danced in his head.

The next day, Satoru sat in a black seat behind a long desk, a few of his assistants on either side. In front of him, the candidates for the new position that had just been opened in his company were standing before him, one after the other. The interviews had already been going on for quite some time, he was just beginning to get bored, until you walked in.

Honestly, you had no idea that Satoru would be here, until you saw him sitting on the main seat. The seat for the CEO of the building. You knew he was a CEO, but he had worked in a different building whilst you were dating. Despite the sudden shock running through, you remain calm and composed.

Your parents were bugging you to do something with your life and that you can’t live in their luxury for the rest of your days without working towards anything so, here you are. Applying for a boring office job, just so your parents would see you as a hard working woman. A useless thing, you believe. You’re fine as you are, perfectly financially stable.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw you, you were even more beautiful than the last time. He had only seen you off your socials since the breakup, but in real life your beauty glistened the entire room from boring and dull to bright and refreshing. He blinked a few times to recover from his surprise, before straightening up in his seat and looking at the papers in front of him.

Trying to ignore the hammering in his heart as he focused on the papers, he couldn't deny it now. He hadn't forgotten you, not at all. He never could. No amount of hookups would get his mind off you. In fact, during all those times he’d have sex with other women after the breakup, he’d only see your face despite how bratty and argumentative you became with him.

Little did he know that the only reason you became so hostile towards him was because he had cheated on you with a prostitute. He doesn't know you know. You didn’t bother to explain, wanted him to realise himself. But he clearly didn’t.

He was just about to say something when one of his assistants spoke up. "Excuse me sir, this is the last candidate to be interviewed, y/n l/n.”

Nodding in acknowledgment, he eyed you up and down. He tried to control his emotions and remain stoic, but in reality, it took all his self-control to stay that way.

He gestured for you to sit in the chair in front of him, his expression bored.

You keep your poker face plastered on as you take your seat, questioning yourself. When did he start working here? This building is #1 in Tokyo, he had been working a little lower before. Unless he owned this building too and just never told you?

God, this is so embarrassing, interviewing to be a low class assistant for your ex boyfriend just to please your parents.

You furrow your brows ever so slightly but regain your composure again, you needed this job. You needed to show your parents that you can do anything, you just choose not to. And it’s true, you can do anything, because now everyone beside him is smiling and whispering with amused expressions as they tick all the boxes near your name. Only Satoru had been staring into your eyes, like a staring contest between the two of you.

He cleared his throat before finally speaking up, his tone neutral. “Alright then, you may leave for now.”

After politely saying your goodbyes you make your exit, his pupils stalked you until you left the room and the door closed behind you. Letting out a slow sigh once you were gone, he felt his heart rate calm down to a normal pace once more.

“I think she did pretty well, sir.”

“One of the best from today, sir.”

He nods at his assistants, trying to play it off like he was unfazed by your presence. But deep down, seeing you again after so long in real time was like an electric shock to his heart. A reminder that he never got over you at all. Ugh, what was he thinking? You became a bitch, you broke up, the decision was mutual.

The assistant's voice pierced his thoughts. “So, what do you think sir? Should we hire her?”

He hesitates for a moment, his mind torn between his emotions and his rationality. He wanted to say no, to reject your application, but he couldn't seem to do that either, he knew you were qualified.

After some deliberation, he finally spoke up in a firm tone. “...Hire her for my secretary position. She has the necessary qualifications.”

As he spoke, a few of the people around him looked at him and each other with surprise visible on their face, but they immediately tried to mask it. They all knew that his position as CEO required a secretary, but they had been under the impression that he would never agree to hire someone for that position. Every time a candidate came in for the role, he’d always deny them. Clearly, you always got what you wanted and Satoru was willing to give you that, despite the fact you only interviewed for a low assistant role.

He could sense their surprise and knew that they had expected him to reject the idea of a secretary once again, but he didn't care. This time, he had a very selfish reason. He wanted you to be his secretary, so he could see you every day. Even if it was just for work.

He continued to look at the papers in front of him, pretending not to care about their reactions, his heart still pounding from the idea of you being his secretary.

Would you even accept the job? And if you did, what would happen between you two?

He didn't know and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out either.

“I expect one of you to alert her for her position and the expectations for it too.” He says coldly, standing up from his seat and fixing himself to head back to his main office. “Have her start her shift from tomorrow morning.”

He nodded to his assistants, indicating that he was done for today and didn't want to be disturbed, before leaving the room and walking down the long corridors to his main office. The thought of you working for him now excited him as much as it worried him. He would see you every day, but would he be able to control himself and remain professional...?

He arrived at his main office and closed the door behind him, heading to his desk and sitting down on the big leather chair. He placed his elbows on the desk and let his face rest in his hands, sighing deeply as he stared at the desk in front of him. This wasn't going to be easy at all.

Well, you knew you always got what you wanted, but you didn’t expect to be given the secretary role. You never even applied for that? Were the people around him just overly pleased by you so they convinced him or was he doing it out of the fact you're his ex?

Whatever the reason, you took it. You didn’t want to bother with anymore of those fuckass interviews. But you can’t believe he’s making you start the next morning, what a dick, as always.

Your black heels click as you enter his office dressed in dark tights, a dark grey pencil skirt and a sleeved white button up shirt, hair up in a French twist, just normal business attire. Oh but to him, oh fuck. As he sat on his seat, his dick sprung up to the sight of you, all dressed up like a hard working woman.

He mentally cursed himself, placing his hand casually as possible on his boner trying to hide the evidence even though you weren’t able to see anyway from his desk blocking your view.

He swallowed hard and quickly tried to compose himself, not wanting to let his surprise show.

Clearing his throat, he spoke up in a professional tone, “You're early, good. Have a seat in front of my desk.”

You want to mentally roll your eyes at him, of course you were going to take a seat. Did he just expect you to stand there until he told you what to do?

You keep your expression neutral as you take your seat and stare at him.

He couldn't help but study your features, the way your eyes landed on his, your hands folded on your knees as you crossed them over. Everything about you was exactly like he remembered.

He took a deep breath to recompose himself before speaking “You may be wondering why I hired you as my personal secretary.”

He leaned back, resting his arms on the armrests of his chair as he continued speaking. “I was going to pass on hiring one, but stocks have been rising lately so it’s been getting busy. And after the interview, I felt you were more than qualified for the job.”

His tone was professional, as if he were speaking to any other employee, but his dick was pulsing with its own heartbeat, faster than ever. It was painful, but he managed to remain stoic. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your face despite how hard it was making him. Would it be so bad if he wanked off to your pictures once you left? Maybe he shouldn’t do that. He carries on speaking. “But I'd better warn you, working as my secretary isn't easy. I have high expectations and demands-“

You cut him off, your tone blank and your expression still neutral. “I'm sure.”

God, he was infuriating to look at. You wanted to grit your teeth and roll your eyes or kick him but you remained professional and calm.

He was slightly amused by your response, your short, simple answer somehow satisfying him.

Leaning forward a bit in his chair, his eyes remained on you as he continued. “I have no doubt you can handle it.”

He paused for a moment before adding, “I hope you're up for the challenge.”

Tch, what challenge? The only challenge will have to be serving him for the next couple of months before you choose to quit.

His eyes lingered on your face for a few more moments, his heart still racing and the beat in his dick pulsing despite his calm demeanour. He tried to push the thoughts of your past relationship to the back of his mind, but being so close to you now was making it difficult. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but he knew he wasn't allowed to. He was your boss now, and he had to maintain a professional relationship with you.

“What do I have to do?” You question.

He sat back in his chair and picked up a folder on his desk, opening it and looking through the contents. You can’t deny how handsome he looks in his suit and his professional manner, it made you throb even though you despised him.

“Your primary job is to take and pass on my instructions, organise my schedule, arrange my meetings, prepare and take notes during business meetings, prepare reports, among other things.”

He glances up at you as he continues listing the duties of the position. “You will be in charge of handling my business calls and emails as well. Which means being available to me at all times.”

His eyes roam over your face, pausing for a moment on your lips before quickly looking back at the folder in front of him.

He closed the folder and placed it back on his desk, his eyes still on you. “Do you think you can handle this job? It can be demanding and time-consuming, not everyone is cut out for it...”

You inhale, exhale, and speak. “It's not that hard, just a lot of simple tasks to complete.” Really, it sounds like I’d be doing all his work for his lazy ass.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, seemingly entertained by your confident response. “You seem pretty confident in your abilities...” His arms across his chest, his voice suddenly more firm and serious. “But let me warn you, l have no patience for mistakes or incompetence. I expect everything to be done in a timely, accurate and professional manner. I'm not an easy boss to please, I demand the best of the best.”

“Yeah. I'm aware.” I state, a hint of irritating sarcasm in my tone. During our relationship, he'd always be toxic and impatient. Never understood the true meaning.. or even tried to understand the true meaning as to why you had become such a bitch towards him. Never came to the realisation that you were aware of his cheating.

He cleared his throat and sat up a bit straighter in his chair, trying to push those memories from his mind...

He kept his cool demeanour and spoke in a calm but strict tone.

“Good. As long as we're clear on that.” He paused for a moment, observing you closely as if trying to read your thoughts. He leaned forward a bit in his chair, his hands folded neatly in front of him on his desk.

“You start your first day of work today. I know that I’ve got a few meetings that need preparation and I need you to take on some duties today as well.”

He studied your face closely, taking in your reaction. He was still trying to figure you out, trying to figure out if you were hiding anything behind your neutral expression, but it was too hard. He always found it hard to understand you behind that expression.

“Okay. Do I get a written list or anything on what I need to do for each day?”

“Yeah, I have a list of assignments for you ready. But I'm also expecting you to keep up with daily tasks and schedules.”

He gestures to the laptop on the desk in front of you.

“There's a new file there. It's for all of the assignments and tasks you need to do, it's constantly updated and you'll find everything in it that you need to do for today and the future.”

You slide the laptop in front of you as you speak, breaking eye contact, “Okay.”

“Any questions?”

“Hm.. I’ll ask you when they come.”

“Can I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why are you applying for jobs? You don’t even need to work.”

You sigh, of course he’d ask that. You didn’t want to let him in on too much. “Why do you care?”

“Don’t get that tone with me, I’m just wandering.” He glared at you with a firm and cold expression.

You roll your eyes at him, finally. Your eyes were begging to do that from the moment you entered this room. “My parents wanted me to do something.”

“Ah.. They doing okay?” He questions, a little smile on his face.

You don’t respond, just stare at him with a bored expression because, why the fuck is he asking how your family is?

He nodded with a small smirk playing on his lips, the fuck is he smiling for now? God you just wanted to get up and kick his dick, make sure he’s unable to fuck any other woman.

“Alright then. I have a meeting in about an hour. Get started on those tasks. And do a good job. I'll be watching you.” He cuts off your intrusive thoughts as he speaks.

You grab your laptop and say your goodbyes, you can’t help but be irritated with the way he’s speaking to you. No please, no thank you?

“She's still as cold as ever...” He mumbled to himself, his brain replaying the look on your face, the sound of your voice. He knew you were intentionally hiding your emotions, putting up a professional front, but he couldn't deny that he was enjoying the game of trying to figure you out.

He leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply as he tried to clear his mind. But he couldn't focus on his work, his thoughts still lingering on you.

You make your way to a smaller office designed for the secretary, small yet simple and spacious. You browse through your laptop which had a detailed list of assignments and tasks, some assigned to you that day and some that you would be handling in the days to come. “Jesus. I'm basically doing his work for him. Tch.” You whisper to yourself as you prepare the meetings and documents for today.

Meanwhile, in his office, his dick was still hard. Punching through his pants aching for release, he had to place his sweating forehead on his desk to control his breathing. But it was futile. He contemplated whether it would be harassment to touch himself to you but fuck, he needed to.

He stood up, walked heavily with ragged breathing and locked his office door then made his way back to his seat, immediately unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down so he’d have access.

His mind ran back to the times he’d pound into you, the wet, filthy noises that would escape from your entrance and your tongue. His hands glided up and down at the thought. The words you’d say to him as he fucked you raw in his bed.

“Just like that toru.. mh…”

“Yeah? Like this?” And he’d slam into you balls deep, making you scream his name as he panted like a dog in heat “That feel good, princess?”

“So.. so g-goo- oh!” You were so drunk off his dick you were never able to form full words. He loved the way your soaked walls would clench him even though you’d whine, “T-too much.. no more!!” But no amount of your whining would make him stop, your pussy begged for him despite your words.

“Tell me how it feels.” He’d say through panting gasps as his fingers would rub over your clit rapidly whilst his dick hit your G-spot then pulled back out, then back in again, making sure to hit you well. He wanted to know how you felt as his dick would speed into you, wanted to raise his ego.

Then he’d push down on your abdomen, just where he’d bulge through your sweaty skin, “You feel that? You take me so well, baby..”

And the way you’d cry out in pleasure, weakly trying to push his hand away from pushing down but he’d just chuckle, pushing down harder as the sound of squelching wetness filled the room.

He can’t help it, mid-wank he picks up his phone from his desk, scrolls through his hidden images in his gallery and rewatches the clips he’d take of you moaning and whimpering his name as he played with your clit. He never deleted anything of you.

He panted heavily once he reached his climax, his hands filthy. Shit. He headed to the bathroom connected to his office and cleaned himself up. Was it harassment to touch himself to you.. without permission? I mean it’s not like you knew.. Shit, maybe he fucked up. Nobody will know anyway.

Time ticked by as you worked on the tasks for the rest of the week, diligently typing away on the keys of the laptop and sipping on the frappe you had bought. Whilst Satoru attended his meetings and completed his work in his office. Although, every time he’d walk around the building, he’d always steal glances of you in your office working. And god, you always looked as beautiful as ever to him.

His father, the former CEO, strolls into the building, his presence immediately commanding respect from all the employees as he walks by. He was a tall and dignified man, his presence alone enough to make everyone take notice. Every employee, including you bowed to him, paying respects.

Shit, this must have been the building he would talk about to you in the past. He’d always complain to you how his father wanted him to overtake his business, but he never told you the name of the building. Well, to be fair, you never asked. And now here you are, working as a corporate slave for your ex boyfriend of a dick.

“It's nice to see you again, y/n.” He says to you, standing before your desk, probably confused.

“Ah... you too sir.”

“I wasn't expecting to see you working here, it's been a while.” His tone was gentle, but there was an undertone of curiosity and concern in his voice.

You nod and offer an awkward smile, “Yeah... I didn't know Satoru was the CEO of this building.”

“Yes, he took over as CEO two months after you both... ended.” He pauses for a moment before speaking again, his tone slightly wary. “And you're working as his secretary now...?” He questioned, looking around the office.

Oh fuck, embarrassing. It sounds as if you’re desperate to be seen by Satoru. “Yes. I am.”

He nods again, his expression still neutral as he continues to observe you, “I see...”

Awkward as fuck. Not because he’s Satoru’s father, you and his family had a good relationship when you were dating. It’s more awkward that your specifically working for his son now.

“How are things between you and Satoru? You two are on... good terms?”

“...I guess.” You fiddle with your hands slightly, wanting to let out a long, deep sigh.

“You guess...?” He lets out a small sigh and continues, his tone slightly gentler this time. “Are you getting along with Satoru fine? No... issues, or arguments?”

“No, not at all sir. We’re okay now.” True, you aren’t. It’s more boring talk. But maybe it’s because you haven’t lashed out on him yet.

He studies your face as you speak, trying to read your expression. He can tell you're not being completely honest, but your words are spoken in a polite and professional tone. “I see..”

“So are you... enjoying working here? You're not feeling uncomfortable or anything?”

“No not at all, it's good working here. The building is amazing.”

“I'm glad to hear that. The building is quite impressive, isn't it? And I hope Satoru isn't... giving you too much work to do?”

You chuckle in response,”Well, I am working on tasks for next week so..”

“Ah, I see. So he’s already making you work ahead of time..”

As his father leaves your office, he makes his way to Satoru’s office, his eyes narrowing slightly as he sees him lazing around in his chair.

“Satoru...” His voice is a low, almost a disapproving grumble as he enters the room, closing the door behind him.

Satoru, hearing his father's voice, looks up with a slight expression of annoyance on his face. “Ugh... what is it?”

He lazily spins around in his chair, his body language oozing nonchalance and boredom.

His father doesn't look amused as he walks up to his son’s desk, a stern expression on his face. “We need to talk.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze fixed on Satoru as he continues. “I was just in your secretary's office, and you know who I saw?”

He raises an eyebrow at his father's words, a mixture of annoyance in his eyes. “Y/n?” He says in a bored tone, as if he's already expecting some sort of lecture from his father.

“Yes, why?”

“Oh, yeah. I hired her.” He responds casually, as if it’s normal to have your ex girlfriend work for you.

His father lets out a sigh, his expression becoming more agitated. “Anyway, you need to get married soon. You're already 28.”

Satoru groans and rolls his eyes at his father's words. He's heard this lecture from his father numerous times, and it always irritates him. “You're still on about that?”

His father remains stern and insistent, his arms crossed over his chest. “Yes, I am. You're at the age where you should be looking for a suitable partner. You can't just keep playing around forever and hooking up with random whores. It's time for you to settle down.”

Satoru lets out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Ugh, can we not have this conversation right now? I'm busy.”

His father's expression hardens even more at his dismissive attitude. “No, we're having this conversation now. And you're not going to use the ‘I'm busy' excuse this time. You've been putting this off for far too long, Satoru. It's embarrassing to have a son who has sex with prostitutes. You need a wife to put you in your place. You need to have kids so you remain a good man.”

Satoru's eyes narrow at his father's words. He knew it was pointless to argue at this point, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of irritation at being lectured like a child.

“And who do you expect me to marry? Do you have someone in mind?”

“Well, if you're asking for my opinion, yes I do have someone in mind. But knowing how stubborn you are, you're probably not going to like it.”

He raises an eyebrow again at his father's words, curious. He lets out a sigh, resigned to having this conversation. “Fine, spit it out. Who is it?”

His father takes a deep breath, bracing himself for Satoru's reaction. He knows what he's about to say will probably not go over well with him.

“Even though she’s your ex now.. y/n. She's a good girl and she comes from a respectable background and we liked her. You two were together for a while. Who better knows you? She'd be able to keep you in line. You're still hung up on her anyway, just stop fucking around and treat her well, then she'll be happy with you.”

His face immediately darkens at his father's words, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “You can't be serious. You actually want me to marry y/n?”

His father lets out a small chuckle at Satoru's protest, not taking his words seriously at all. He's clearly amused by his son's denial. “Oh please, I know you're still into her. And she doesn't hate you, she's just mad at you because you messed up. And her boyfriend? Pfft, I saw him, he's a pathetic waste of space. She deserves someone better, someone like you. Just stop being a coward and admit you still like her.”

He lets out a scoff at his father's words. He can't believe his father is talking about y/n like this, as if he knows better than him. It's pissing him off, even though he’s right.

“You're seriously overstepping your boundaries, old man. I'm not a damn teenager who can't make decisions for themselves. I'm the CEO of this company, and I have a private life. No, I'm not marrying y/n. It's not happening.”

“You're acting like a child, Satoru. And don't give me that CEO bullshit, it won't work on me. You're still my son and I'm still your father, and I'm telling you to marry her. End of story. I'll arrange the marriage even if I have to force it, I'll get y/n to agree.”

Satoru's jaw clenches, his patience reaching its limit. He can feel anger coursing through him, and he has to force himself to stay calm. “You'll what? Arrange a marriage?! Dad, you're out of your damn mind. You know damn well y/n and I didn't end on good terms. We were constantly at each other's throats, it was a disaster. And forcing her to marry me? That's insane.”

His father scoffs, “Who else would you marry?”

“Anyone but y/n. Literally anyone. I’ll marry a stranger, I don't care. Just don’t push y/n onto me.” Satoru's voice is firm and unrelenting, but there's a hint of desperation in his eyes as he stares at his father.

His father lets out a frustrated sigh, seeing that his son is in no mood to listen to reason. He takes a deep breath and tries a different approach. “Alright then. I'll have a few respectable women, or girls your mother and I know come over to the family estate. They'll talk to you and you talk to them. Then come to me and tell me which one you prefer. Deal?”

Satoru’s expression softens slightly, his anger slowly subsiding. He doesn't like the idea of being set up with women he's never met, but it's better than being forced to marry his ex. “... Fine. But I'm not promising anything.”

His father smiles slightly, glad that he's finally getting through to Satoru. If he doesn’t prefer any of them, then he’ll definitely arrange you both. But he won’t mention that yet.

“Good. I'll arrange it then. And I better see you talking properly to these girls, got it? No snide comments or sarcasm. Just behave well. Don't embarrass me son.”

He rolls his eyes but nods reluctantly. “Yeah, yeah I'll be on my best behaviour. Don't worry.” He mutters, still not thrilled about the entire situation of marriage.

“Today, tomorrow, next week? When?”

“Next week. This coming Saturday. I'll have them head to your study room in the estate, not your apartment, so make sure you come over in the morning. Be ready.”

Satoru nods again, resigned to his fate. He knows his father is not backing down. “Alright, I'll be there.. Whatever.”

The next day, Satoru is bored in his office, idly scrolling through his social media feeds when he receives an email from you. He opens it up and reads through his schedule for the day, letting out a small sigh.

It's then that he suddenly remembers the conversation between him and his father, and the arrangement to bring the women over to their estate next week. He groans inwardly, not looking forward to it at all.

He could just do as his father's says and marry you instead. but you're his ex and you hate him because he's apparently toxic. and he doesn't even like you anymore since you became so bratty. At least, that what he tells himself.

As his thoughts swirl through his head, an idea starts to form. He glances at the door to his office, considering it for a moment. then he calls out to you through the phone speaker. “Hey, come in here for a moment.”

You hear his voice over the alert system in your office room and head over, once inside you speak, “Is something the matter?”

He motions for you to close the door behind you and sit down. “No, everything's fine. Just sit down.”

He waits for you to sit down on the chair opposite him, his eyes studying your face as you do so. He's not sure how you're going to react to what he's about to say.

“I need to ask you something. And I want you to be completely honest with me.”

Okay, you can do that.

He leans forward slightly, his hands resting on the desk in front of him as he looks you in the eye. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

You respond immediately, “No.” Did he expect you to be open considering our history? What an idiot.

He chuckles as he looks down, “Damn, you're still as bratty as ever.”

He leans back in his chair and looks at you again. “You still hate me, huh?”

You stare back at him, a bored expression on your face, “Obviously.” You hated his guts and he knows that.

“Yeah, I figured. We did end on bad terms after all, didn't we?” He speaks with a hint of arrogant irritation in his voice.

You sigh before you speak, “What do you want?”

He leans forward again, resting his elbows on the desk and entwining his fingers in front of him. His gaze is steady and intense as he looks at you. “I need you to listen closely to what I'm about to say and try to keep an open mind. Can you do that?”

“What?”

Inhaling deeply, he prepares himself for your reaction. He knows this is going to be a difficult conversation. But he should at least ask before closing off the option.

“I'm going to ask you something... a little... hm. I don't know what's the word but, don't get all mad at me. It's just an offer from my father. it's not that I want to but I'm just letting you know.”

You groan in irritation at him, “Okay, so what is it?” He’s taking too long and you’re becoming impatient.

He almost chuckles at the frustration on your face. But he knows better than to make any dumb comments if he wants to even have a chance to explain himself.

“Alright, alright. I'll get to the point.” He clears his throat, preparing himself for your reaction. “My father wants me to get married. He gave me the first option to marry you but I denied it because, well I thought you'd say no anyway. So instead he arranged some women for me to meet next week at our estate.”

“Okay? What do you want me to do about that?”

He sighs, “You're really making it difficult for me to talk to you." He rubs his temple with his fingers, getting annoyed with your stubbornness. “Alright, I'm just gonna say it then.”

He takes a deep breath and looks at you straight in the eye. “I'm gonna ask you again. Do you still hate me, yes or no?”

“Yes. I hate you.”

“You really are damn stubborn, you know that?” He sits back in his chair, studying your face for any signs of weakness or doubt. But your expression remains icy and impenetrable, just like it always was before you broke up with him..

He leans forward again, his gaze never leaving your face. “Fine, you hate me. But that's not the question I'm asking.”

But that was the question he just asked?

“My father was going to arrange our marriage forcibly, but I told him not to because I thought you'd disagree. If you could, would you agree to the marriage?”

You contemplate for a moment, would you? You hate him, you can’t trust him anymore. Not when he cheated with some random prostitute. “It depends.”

He quirked an eyebrow at your answer, intrigued and slightly amused that you're actually considering the possibility. “Depends on what?”

“Money.” You say blankly. Hypothetically, at least. You weren’t being serious but if it were to happen you’d marry him for money. Because only money could make you get back with a cheating ex like Satoru.

He scoff at your response. It's so typical of you to think of the financial aspect first. But he doesn't seem too surprised. “Oh, you're such a greedy little gold digger. I'd be paying you to be married to me, huh?”

“What's the problem with that? I have money and come from wealth too, it’s only obvious I’d still want more. If I married you I’d want to be paid weekly.”

You watch him shake his head and chuckle, both amused and annoyed at your audacity. He never expected you to actually admit to being a gold digger so shamelessly. “Damn. You really have no shame, do you?”

He looks at you as he considers your proposition for a moment, “Weekly payments, huh? How much are you thinking?”

“Hm. To get married to you and leave my boyfriend... £100k to get married to you, then £2k weekly sent to my bank. I'm only saying that because it's not gonna happen.” You say the last sentence firmly, standing your ground as you glare at him from your seat.

He grins at the ridiculously bold request, “£100k to marry me? And £2k weekly? You're really trying to milk me for everything I've got, huh? You're fuckin’ expensive.”

“Those are reasonable offers if your rich. You have the money to give that.”

He can't deny that you're right. Though he finds your demands amusing and frustrating at the same time. "You really have no shame to ask for that much money, don't you?” He mutters under his breath.

“And why do you want £2k weekly? wouldn't I be providing you with everything as your husband?”

Ugh, he’s asking as if I’d ever accept him as my husband.

“What do you plan to do with the £2k weekly payments?”

“For myself, obviously. You’re questioning me as if it'd actually happen. I'm not marrying you.” You chuckle as you speak. “Was just answering your question from before.”

“I know you're not gonna marry me, it's just a damn hypothetical question.” he mutters, his voice edged with frustration. “But I'm asking why you'd want that much money for yourself?”

“Why wouldn't I? Plus If I had left over money, l'd pass it down to my children for inheritance.”

“Of course you're thinking about inheritance for your children,” he says in a sarcastic tone. “You know, most people get married for love, not just for money.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn't be marrying you for love, it'd be forced if ur father went through with it for real. Anyway, good luck to the women you're meeting next week. I have work to do and this conversation is annoying. I'll be taking my leave.”

He eyes you as you stand up and head toward the door, slightly annoyed and amused at the same time by your bluntness. “Right, right," he mutters, leaning back in his chair again. “Run off to do your work. Maybe you'll find another guy to milk for money while you’re at it.”

You roll your eyes and scoff as you exit the room, shutting the door behind you.

He lets out a long, heavy sigh and runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head at the crazy idea that he even considered discussing the possibility of marriage with you. “Damn it...” he mutters to himself, “What the hell am I thinking... Tch. annoying bitch.”

Saturday finally rolls around, and Satoru finds himself sitting in his family's grand estate, waiting for the women his father had invited. He's sitting in his study room, tapping his fingers on the armrest of the couch with growing irritation. He still dreads the idea of having to meet all these women, especially after the conversation he had with you a few days before.

Hours passed by, but to no surprise, all the women were either bratty, annoying, clingy, boring or ugly. He heads to his fathers study room, his frustration growing with each step.

He had hoped at least one of the women would pique his interest, but they were all lacking in one way or another. Finally, he reaches his father's study room and knocks on the door. He waits a moment before hearing his father call out from inside, “Come in.” A small smirk playing on his father face.

He steps into the room seeing his father sat smoking a cigarette, his expression a mix of irritation and disappointment. As if he knew that you wouldn’t like any the women. He closes the door behind him and stands in front of his father's desk, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Judging by your face, I'm guessing the meetings didn't go well?”

Satoru lets out a heavy sigh “You could say that. None of the women you picked out were my type. Honestly, they were all damn awful to be honest.”

His father lets out a small chuckle at Satoru's blunt assessment. He leans back in his chair and looks at his son “I see. Well, I guess that's expected, given your picky taste in women. So marry y/n. I'll arrange it.”

His eyes widened at his father's words. He hadn't expected him to bring up your name again so casually.

“What? Wait, hang on I told you we shouldn’t-“

Cutting him off, his father waves his hand dismissively. “I know what you said, but you didn't find anyone suitable so there’s no other option.. You're not that old, but you should start thinking about your future. I'm tired of you always spending your time with prostitutes. Y/n’s a good girl, and she's from a good family that I know well. It's the perfect match.”

“That's bullshit, I don't care if she’s a 'good girl' we don’t like each other anymore, and you know that.”

“You can't just rely on picking women based on your taste. You have to consider the bigger picture, Satoru. Y/n is from a wealthy family, and a good partner for the future. You can't just dismiss her because you don’t like her. You have to think about how this will benefit you and your future. And don't lie to me, you loved her until you both started arguing constantly because of your behaviour. Fix yourself up. I'll speak to her and arrange the marriage, I'm good at persuading.”

Satoru clenches his fists, trying to keep his cool “Damn it...I can't just agree to marry her because it's convenient. What about my own feelings and preferences? I don't care if she's from a wealthy family or a 'good partner for the future.' I'm not some damn chess piece in your grand plan. Why the hell can't you just leave me alone about this? I don't want to be stuck down to one women I like my fucking prostitutes and why does that even bother you?! The public don't even know.”

His father slams his hand on the desk, his patience wearing thin at Satoru’s vulgar and immature words.

“Enough nonsense, Satoru! I'm tired of your selfish attitude. You're not a child anymore, you're 28 years old, it's time you start acting like an adult. Marriage is not just about your feelings, it's about responsibility, legacy and power. Y/n’s family status and background will bring stability benefits that will outweigh your damn personal preferences. I don't care how many damn prostitutes you sleep with, you're marrying y/n.”

“I've already spoken to her, I gave her a hypothetical question, and you want to know what she said?”

His father looks slightly surprised at his words, but he quickly regains his composure “And what did she say?”

“She said, if she did marry me it would be for money.”

His voice is laced with frustration and anger as he crosses his arms, his glare fixed on his father.

“She was only interested in the damn money. Nothing else. Told me if you forced her to marry me, she'd only go ahead with it if she was pre-paid £100k and then paid a further £2k by me weekly. then she said she's only saying that because it'd never happen and she won't marry me.”

His father's expression remains neutral, “What's so bad about that? We have wealth and so does she. it's only normal for her to want more, especially if your her ex. I don’t blame her.”

His anger reaches a boiling point at his father's nonchalant response. He leans forward, his eyes blazing with frustration, “You're goddamn right she's my ex. And that should be enough reason for you not to try to force me to marry her against my will.”

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down, but his frustration is evident in his every movement.

His father leans back in his chair, his expression still calm, “Listen, I understand that you have your reasons for not wanting to marry her. But you have to understand that I'm only thinking about what's best for you. She comes from a wealthy family, and she shares similar values to ours. She'd be a valuable addition to our family, and I'm sure you'd be able to find happiness with her if you stopped your toxic behaviour.”

Satoru's jaw clenches as he listens to his father's words. He can't believe that his father is still pushing this idea, despite his objections. “You just don't get it, do you? It's not just about your stupid values and wealth. I have my own life, my own preferences, my own damn desires.”

He shakes his head, feeling a mixture of anger and frustration. “You can't force me to marry someone, my ex, just because it's convenient for you or our family reputation.”

“Satoru, stop being so goddamn egotistical. This isn't just about pleasing me or our ideals. It's about doing what's right for your future. And let's be honest, your current lifestyle isn't exactly sustainable in the long run. You need a partner who understands and respects you, whom you can share your life with. And someone who can keep you in check. Leave my room. I'll arrange you and y/n. That's the end of it.”

“Ugh, fine! but don't expect me to treat her like a goddess wife.” He was tired of these lectures, tired of his futile defensive arguments.

“Trust me, after spending a few days with her as your wife, you'll come to appreciate her, she was always a good daughter figure when she’d visit whilst you dated.”

He leans back in his chair, folding his hands “And I expect you to be on your best behaviour. No more womanising or hookups, got it?”

He rolls his eyes, feeling frustrated but also resigned to the situation “Yeah, yeah, I got it. No more women, no more hookups. You want me to be a damn saint, I'll be a saint.”

A day later, his father calls me, telling me to visit their estate and that he has something important to discuss with me. I head over and enter the family estate, a butler leading me to his fathers study room. Am I going to get fired already? No.. if I were to be getting fired I’d be called to Satoru’s office.

Satoru sits in his father's room, staring out the window as his father sits beside him. His thoughts still swirl with anger and frustration but he knows he has no choice to argue with his father.

Suddenly, his father's butler knocks on the door and enters the room. “Excuse me. Miss l/n is here saying that you called for her?” He steps aside, revealing you standing in the doorway.

“Hello..”

His father stands up and smiles at you warmly

“Ah, y/n, please come in. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

I enter the room, closing the door behind me and glance at satoru confused, his expression neutral, only with slightly furrowed brows. Then I returned my gaze back onto his father.

His father gestures for you to take a seat across from him and Satoru. “Please, have a seat. There's something important we need to discuss with you.”

After taking your seat, His father leans forward, his tone serious “Y/n, I've called you here because Satoru and I have had a chat recently. And we both agreed that it would be beneficial for all of us if you and Satoru were to get married.”

Oh god, he can’t be serious. “Mr. Go-“

His father continues, ignoring your reaction

“I understand that this might come as a surprise, but hear me out. Satoru needs a partner who can help him grow and mature. And I believe that you are the perfect candidate for that. You come from a good family and have a strong sense of responsibility. You can provide the stability and guidance that Satoru desperately needs.”

“I... thank you for the offer but I-“

His father holds up a hand, stopping you from protesting further “You'll be given the money you want. £100k beforehand and £2k weekly by this idiot here, right?”

You part your lips slightly and your breath catches in your dry throat. You weren’t being serious with that amount, simply stating it because you didn't expect it to happen. You wave your hands in protest as you smile awkwardly “No, No I-“

His father raises an eyebrow, clearly sceptical of your protest, “You were the one who suggested the money. Don't try to back out of it now. I’m offering a significant amount of financial security. Not to mention, being married to Satoru would mean a life of luxury and comfort.”

Satoru, who had been silent until now, finally speaks up. He leans back in his chair, a mix of irritation and resignation in his voice. “Just take the damn deal, y/n.”

“Tch, don't tell me what to do.”

“Why are you being so difficult? we're offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity here. You'd be a fool to reject it.”

You roll your eyes, looking away and sighing. He's right, but it would be hell for you. Get back with the ex who cheated on you with a prostitute..? It’s crazy.

His father clasps his hands together, sensing that you're starting to give in, “If that's not enough, £200k beforehand, £3k weekly.”

“You're serious...? About this?”

“Absolutely. I've already spoken to your parents and they agreed, but do you?”

Satoru watches you intently, waiting for your answer. He's starting to feel a sense of annoyance at your hesitancy, but he tries to hide it.

His father leans forward, “Y/n, you won't have to work another day.”

"You'll have access to the best of everything, a life of luxury, and you'll be a part of a high-profile family. Think about it, you'll never have to worry about money or anything again."

“I mean I already don't... have to worry…” You’re starting to give in. Oh god this can’t be good.

“Yes, but the offer is still there. You'd have more. You know our family is #1 wealthiest in Japan, your family is #50 wealthy. Think about it.”

Satoru can't contain himself anymore, he leans forward, his irritation evident in his voice “Damn it, you're being stubborn for no reason. Just take the deal already.”

You scowl at his words and tone, giving a dirt as you furrow your brows.

Sator glares right back, his irritation at your defiant attitude growing.

“Just take the fucking deal you love money anyway!”

“Fine!” I yell back with a frustrated groan.

His father lets out a satisfied exhale, a small smile on his face.

“Excellent. I'm glad you came to your senses.”

Satoru leans back, a mix of frustration and resignation on his face. “Finally, you gave in.”

His father’s tone became more serious as he speaks, “Now that that's settled, there are a few conditions that we need to discuss.”

He pauses, looking at Satoru, “First, Satoru. You will not contact any of your former lovers or hookups. The public and our family would look down on that. You must maintain a clean image as a couple.”

You scoff a laugh. “Tch. Of course you had prostitutes right after I left you.” He really was a damn sex freak. You can’t believe he didn’t catch on to the fact you knew he cheated on you. What a dickhead.

He rolls his eyes, feeling a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment at being called out on his behavior.

“Yeah, I did. So what? I had em before you and had em after.”

The audacity for him to blatantly admit such a disgusting thing makes you stare at him in both disbelief and disgust. You hid it well, but it did hurt you. It was like as if he poured acid onto your heart.

His father shakes his head, his disapproval evident

“Satoru that's exactly the type of behaviour that needs to change, immediately. You are a part of a powerful family, and your actions reflect on us all. No more of that immature behaviour.”

He rolls his eyes as he leans back on his seat, looking away, “Yeah, I know.”

“Second, y/n, you will be expected to support Sator in every way possible. This means attending family events and public appearances with him, offering him emotional support, and generally acting as a supportive partner.”

“Of course that's basic stuff, I can do that.” You respond softly, and maturely.

“Good, I'm glad you understand.” He clears his throat,“Onto the third condition. This is the most important one.

His voice takes a firm, serious tone “It involves the matter of heirs. You'll be expected to have children within the next 2 years of the marriage. Ideally, a son and a daughter.”

You should have expected that as a condition too.

“This is non-negotiable. We want to ensure the continuing of our family line, and we expect you two to fulfil your duty.”

I smirk slightly as I look down at my lap, “Do I get paid for pregnancy too?” I ask sarcastically.

"Actually, yes. You'll receive an extra £80k for each pregnancy, and £150k for giving birth.”

Your breath hitches once more, he can’t be serious.. “What?” That amount is far too ridiculously huge, even for you.

His father smiles slightly, seeing your surprise. "That's correct. We understand that pregnancy can be a difficult and exhausting experience, both physically and mentally. That's why we're willing to offer additional compensation as a token of our appreciation for your efforts in continuing our bloodline."

“Wait I was just joking-“

His father chuckles slightly, dismissing your protest.“Oh, I know you were joking, but we take this seriously. The compensation is non-negotiable. We want to ensure that you and Satoru have all the support and resources you need to start a family.”

“But that’s not necessary I promis-“

“It is necessary. He’s our only child, it’s only right that we gift his wife and mother of his children. And you’ll be keeping him in check from his…. Behaviours.”

To think you’re actually agreeing to this is mental. If you were to speak to yourself a week ago you’d be laughing hysterically.

“Right.. right. Next two years..”

“Yes, within the next 2 years. We want to ensure that the family line is continued in a timely manner.”

Satoru remains mostly silent in his seat, a hint of irritation in his expression at the conversation's direction.

His father continues, a stern tone in his voice, “It's not solely your responsibility dear, of course. Satoru will also be expected to play an active role in the child-rearing process, but you will be the main caregiver and nurturer.”

I mean, it’s not so bad. But it’s Gojo Satoru who will be your husband and father of your children. What if he just cheated again? How does his father expect you to keep him in line?

He looks back and forth between you and Satoru

"You both will work together to raise your children, providing them with the love, care, and stability that a family should have. It won't be easy, but we believe that you're both capable of it."

Satoru bristles visibly at his father's words. The thought of having children so soon with his bitch of an ex, is far from appealing to him. Yes, he still has a few feelings for you, but not enough to want to be forced with you. Not like this. But he bites back any protest, knowing it's fruitless to argue with his father.

"Also, if you hate each other behind closed doors, expect you both to appear as a loving couple for the public.”

“Yes.. we will.”

"And Satoru, you better stay behaved. We don't want any more scandals that might embarrass the family's name.

You're lucky they haven't seen you with those whores you've met."

He grits his teeth at his father's comment, feeling a mixture of anger and embarrassment at his indiscretions being brought up time and time again. "I already told you, I'll stop those hookups. There's no need to constantly bring it up."

"I'll believe it when I see it. Just remember, your actions reflect on this family.”

His gaze shifts back to you.

"And y/n, I know you’ll keep Satoru in line. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

“I will.”

"Good. I have faith in you to keep Satoru in check."

His expression suddenly turns serious again.

“One more thing, both of you. Absolutely no infidelity after marriage. I expect absolute loyalty from both of you.”

“Say that to him not me” I mutter, rolling my eyes towards Satoru’s direction.

Satoru clicks his tongue at your words.

His father sighs, directing his gaze at Satoru. “Satoru, I expect complete loyalty from now on. No more flings or hookups with anyone else. Your marriage is solely with y/n now.”

Satoru scowls at his father's words but doesn't argue. He knows that resisting is pointless. He turns his gaze to you, his expression a mixture of irritation and resignation. “I understand.”

[theonottsbxtch]

99 PROBLEMS PT2| MV1

an: after many requests, i've changed up our beloved max. this has not been proof read so pls don't judge i am tired and have had the shittiest week of my life i swear but im slaying i promise!

wc: 5.5k

part one

The morning after was a slow burn of pain.

Noah woke up with a headache that felt like someone was hammering on his skull, each pulse a reminder of his poor life choices. His mouth was dry, and the room seemed to spin even though he was lying still. The sunlight creeping through the curtains made his head throb even harder.

He groaned and pulled the blankets over his head, trying to bury himself in the comfort of the pillow, but it was no use. The light was relentless.

With a resigned sigh, he threw the covers off and staggered to the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror was enough to make him want to crawl back into bed—hair a tangled mess, his face pale, and his eyes bloodshot. He splashed water on his face, feeling the coolness settle his nerves slightly, but he still wasn’t ready to face the world.

A thought occurred to him—he hadn’t eaten last night, and he needed food if he was going to survive this hangover. He stumbled toward the kitchen, squinting against the light.

The kitchen felt like a foreign land. The open windows made it bright, the kind of brightness that seemed determined to make him suffer. Noah squinted, trying to locate anything he could eat without being blinded.

Lights off, he thought, grumbling. He reached up, turned off the overheads, and then fumbled his way around the counters until he found the stove. The dim light coming from the street lamps outside was barely enough, but it was better than the harsh sunlight.

He opened the fridge and pulled out eggs, butter, and a bottle of orange juice, setting them on the counter. He moved with the deliberate slowness of someone trying not to trigger the next wave of nausea, and as he grabbed a frying pan, something on the counter caught his eye.

A small bag. A lipstick. A pair of earrings.

Noah froze.

He had no idea whose stuff it was at first, but the instant he saw the ID half-hidden under a paper towel, he couldn’t look away.

He reached for it cautiously, flipping it over to see the name on the card: Rosa, 21 years old.

He stared at it, blinking in disbelief.

Twenty-one.

His brain took a second to process the shock. He’d seen a lot of women come and go last night, but this was different.

His dad—Max—had slept with someone only four years older than him.

He shook his head, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered, making the room feel hotter and his stomach churn.

He bent down, rubbing his temples to stave off the headache, and that’s when he saw them—clothes strewn across the floor. A dress in a heap near the kitchen table. A pair of high heels kicked to the side like someone was in a rush to get out.

Eugh, Noah thought, feeling his stomach twist in disgust.

Thank god he’d come home early with Charles. He’d heard the stories—heard about what Max was like when he had a good time—but seeing it for himself, well, it was a whole different level of uncomfortable. He would’ve had to witness this, the aftermath, the leftovers of his dad’s typical antics.

Noah closed his eyes, leaning back against the counter as if he could shut out the entire night. He’d had enough of his dad’s antics for the next year—or lifetime.

Sighing deeply, he pulled the pan from the stove and cracked the eggs into it, the sizzling sound a small distraction from his thoughts. The smell of cooking eggs filled the room, but it didn’t do much to calm his nerves. It was just another reminder that life went on, even when things felt messed up.

As he scrambled the eggs, he couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d seen—the lipstick, the earrings, the stupid ID. Four years older than me?

He made himself a plate of scrambled eggs, avoiding the now-infamous counter, and took a seat at the table. He sat there quietly for a while, the silence pressing in around him.

Noah was just finishing his eggs when he heard footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, and to his surprise, Rosa—Max’s most recent conquest—emerged from the hallway wearing nothing but one of Max’s oversized t-shirts. She looked a little uncomfortable, and her eyes flickered nervously toward him as she stepped into the kitchen.

Noah immediately pointed toward the hallway. “The dress is right there,” he said flatly, trying not to look at her.

She hesitated, clearly flustered, and then lowered her gaze. “I—sorry, I just—uh…” She trailed off, clearly not sure how to act around Max’s son.

Noah watched her, already knowing the answer but still asking. “Why did you do that?”

Rosa bit her lip. “He’s... he’s Max Verstappen,” she said quietly, as if that somehow explained everything.

Noah felt a pit grow in his stomach. He leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “He’s at least fifteen years your senior,” he replied, his voice laced with disbelief.

She seemed taken aback by the bluntness, but nodded sheepishly. “I... know. I don’t usually—well, I guess I’m not exactly thinking straight when it’s him, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Noah said dryly, then added for her benefit, “It’s Max Verstapen, right?”

She bit her lip, then grabbed her dress from the hallway and quickly went to change. Noah couldn’t help but feel relieved—he had no idea what to say to her, and honestly, he didn’t need to.

The sound of footsteps coming from the hallway brought him back to the moment. A few seconds later, Max appeared, stretching lazily as he entered the kitchen. His hair was still a mess from the night, but his grin was as wide as ever.

“Morning mate,” Max said, ruffling Noah’s hair as he walked by. 

Noah just stared at him, unimpressed. “Twenty-one, really?” he asked, shocked.

Both of them ignored her as she walked out, Noah still in disbelief.

Max chuckled, clearly not fazed, and started rummaging through the fridge. He opened a carton of eggs, cracked a couple into a pan, and began cooking.

It wasn’t long before Max’s phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at the screen and swore under his breath, muttering, “Fuck.”

“What?” Noah asked, curious, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Max looked up, his face briefly reflecting an uncharacteristic moment of stress. “My personal assistant,” he muttered. “She’s off annual leave today.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “What’s so bad about that?”

Max sighed dramatically. “She keeps my life together, kid. Without her, I’d be completely lost.”

As if on cue, they heard the front door creak open. The sound of heels clicking against the floor echoed in the hallway.

Max’s face fell. “Oh, double hell,” he muttered.

Noah looked at him, confused. “Who’s that?”

The door to the kitchen swung open, and a woman walked in, looking both exasperated and amused at the same time. She was in her early thirties, with sharp features and a no-nonsense attitude that immediately made her stand out.

She didn’t waste any time. “Blocking me during my annual leave doesn’t work, Max Emilian,” she said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Max stood up straight, putting on his most charming grin, which, unsurprisingly, didn’t seem to work on her. “Hey, sweetheart, how was the holiday?”

She didn’t even look at him before turning her gaze to Noah, who was watching this whole scene unfold with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

She raised an eyebrow. “Who’s this?”

Max froze for a split second before clearing his throat. “Uh, this is my son... Noah,” he said, sounding almost awkward.

The second she heard “son,” her eyes widened in shock. “MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN,” she snapped, her voice sharp as a whip. “What on earth have you gotten yourself into now?!”

Noah couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the way she was laying into his dad. Watching Max get his ass handed to him by someone who clearly had authority in his life was, honestly, one of the funniest things Noah had seen in a long time.

He leaned back in his chair, his mouth twisting into a grin. “This is... amazing,” Noah muttered under his breath, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Max, on the other hand, looked like he was regretting every decision he’d ever made. “Sweetheart, come on,” he said weakly. “It’s not that bad.”

“No, Max,” she said, crossing her arms, unimpressed. “It’s exactly as bad as it looks. I leave you alone for three weeks, and you end up with a what? a 16 year old who clearly looks hungover!” She turned to Noah, her expression softening just a little. “Nice to meet you, by the way. But please—please tell me you’re smarter than your dad.”

Max groaned and rubbed his temples, clearly still nursing the hangover. “Ugh, I’m hungover,” he muttered, dragging himself to the kitchen table and sitting down.

She didn’t even glance up from the folder she was pulling out of her bag. “Don’t care,” she said with a roll of her eyes, clearly unimpressed by his state.

Noah snorted with laughter, the sound escaping before he could stop it. He couldn’t help it—there was something undeniably hilarious about watching Max get shot down so effortlessly. Watching the great Max Verstappen, the Formula 1 champion, get treated like an everyday guy was something he hadn’t seen before.

She caught the laugh from across the room and shot Noah a playful smirk. “You think this is funny, huh?” she asked, but her tone was light, not harsh.

Noah raised both hands in surrender, still grinning. “You have no idea,” he said, shaking his head. “This is gold.”

Max shot him a sideways glance but didn’t say anything—probably because he was too busy trying to drag himself through the worst hangover of his life. He ate his food silently, still looking miserable, while she—who, honestly, looked like she had her life together more than anyone else in the room—slid a thick folder across the kitchen table in front of him.

“Here’s the menu,” she said, flipping it open. “You’ve got a race in two weeks. Act like it.” Her voice was firm, almost maternal, but there was a certain softness to it that suggested she genuinely cared about Max’s well-being. And maybe Noah’s, too.

Max groaned again. “Really? The race is two weeks away. Can’t you just let me suffer in peace for one more day?” he asked, looking up at her with a feigned pout.

She didn’t even blink. “I don’t care,” she said again, flipping through the folder with surgical precision. “You’ve got media events, sponsorship meetings, and training sessions that you will attend. You can wallow later, when you’re not about to crash a car into a wall. So do me a favour and get it together, darling.”

Noah watched the exchange with a growing sense of admiration for her. She had a way of keeping Max in line that Noah hadn’t even thought possible. The pet names, the obvious affection she had for him, it was like a love language they both spoke—but she could flip into business mode faster than anyone he’d ever seen.

Max’s face softened, and he finally gave in, wiping his face and nodding. “Fine. Fine,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You’re right. Just... can I get through one cup of coffee before I start pretending I’m an athlete again?”

She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. “You’re not pretending, you are an athlete,” she said, her tone turning teasing, but still with that edge of authority that made her impossible to ignore. “But I’ll let you have your coffee.” She shot a glance at Noah. “Don’t get any ideas. You’re not allowed to slack off like him.”

Max snorted. “What ideas? He’s seventeen,” he shot back, clearly exhausted but trying to rally for the sake of their ongoing back-and-forth. “You think he’s gonna let me off the hook?”

Noah grinned. “If you can get away with it, I might give it a shot,” he said with a wink, feeling a rare moment of camaraderie with his dad—well, his dad when he wasn’t being an idiot.

She just shook her head. “I don’t get paid enough for this.” She pushed the folder over to Max again. “I’m serious, Max. The team’s not gonna wait for you to nurse a hangover. You’ve got a busy week, and you need to start acting like it.”

Max finally straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck, but then something like a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He looked at her with that familiar cocky glint in his eyes, a look Noah had seen a hundred times before. But this time, it wasn’t as obnoxious—it was affectionate.

“Alright, alright, you got it, princess,” Max said, using one of his usual pet names. She didn’t flinch, but Noah swore he saw the faintest trace of a smile tug at her lips.

Noah felt like an outsider looking in on this little dynamic, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously, princess? Can’t you do any better?”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Don’t get me started on the pet names,” she warned. “You’ll regret it.”

Noah chuckled, obviously enjoying the banter. He turned back to her. “If I call you princess, will you cut me some slack?”

“Not in a million years,” she replied with a smirk, her voice as calm as ever.

Max sighed dramatically, clearly not used to being outside of a joke, but he dropped the act, finally flipping through the folder in front of him. “Alright, alright. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Noah leaned back in his chair, watching the two of them with a mix of awe and amusement. It was clear—she wasn’t just a personal assistant. She was the one who kept Max’s world from falling apart, and soon maybe Noah’s, too. He’d never seen his dad so... well, manageable before. She’d probably seen it all—his dad’s hangovers, his cocky attitude, his late-night escapades—and yet she still kept things running smoothly.

Maybe that’s what he’d needed all along—someone who could manage the chaos, someone who could actually keep him grounded.

“Well, I guess I can’t slack off anymore either,” Noah muttered, pushing away from the table and grabbing his plate. “Guess I’m in this with you, huh?”

Max looked up at him and gave him a playful nudge. “You know it, kid,” he said, grinning. “The real work starts now.”

She stood at the counter, her movements fluid as she made a cup of coffee for Max. She placed it gently in front of him, then gave him a look that made it clear she wasn’t done yet.

“Your room,” she said firmly, raising an eyebrow. “Strip your sheets, air it out. It smells like sex in there.”

Max groaned, but his tone was playful. “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he muttered, picking up the coffee and winking at her as if it was no big deal.

Noah watched the exchange, silently chuckling to himself. It was actually kind of adorable how well Max and she worked together. They didn’t seem like just a typical boss-assistant duo—they had a rhythm, a comfort with each other that made it hard to believe they weren’t more than that.

She raised her eyebrows at Max, clearly not impressed by his teasing. “Go,” she commanded, making a shooing motion toward the hallway.

Max rolled his eyes but shuffled off to his room, his back already to them.

She then glanced over at Noah, her expression softening now that it was just the two of them. “Alright, kid,” she said, her voice changing slightly. “Now, how did you end up here?”

Noah hesitated, unsure how much to share. He wasn’t used to talking about his family—about his mum. But she had a way of making him feel safe. She didn’t press, didn’t rush him, but her eyes were kind, giving him the space to speak if he wanted to.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, trying to find the words. “I was an accident,” he finally muttered, looking down at the table. “My mum... she was one of the many girls in and out of his life. She never really stuck around, I spent more time with my grandma.”

She nodded, encouraging him with a soft, understanding smile. She was so good at making him feel like his feelings mattered, like he wasn’t just a burden. “And after that?” she asked, her tone gentle but full of curiosity.

Noah paused, swallowing hard. “She just had enough, I guess. She couldn’t wait until I turned 18, so she shipped me off here to my dad.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, a little embarrassed by how honest he was being. “I don’t know if she ever really wanted to be a mum. But when it came down to it, she couldn’t even handle me for a few more months.”

Her expression softened even more, and she leaned forward slightly, her voice low and comforting. “That must’ve been really tough on you.”

Noah gave a half-shrug, but there was a weight to it. “It was. But, I mean... what can you do? She made her decision, and now I’m here. With him,” he said, glancing toward the hallway where Max had disappeared, an almost nostalgic look on his face. He wasn’t sure whether it was disappointment or something else—maybe just the surrealism of the situation.

She watched him closely, like she was trying to read him. “Do you want to stay after your eighteenth birthday?” she asked carefully. “Or do you think you’ll go back to the States, I’m assuming that is where you’re from?”

Noah felt a tight knot in his chest at the thought. He hadn’t really thought about it—hadn’t been asked. His whole life had been in limbo for the past three weeks, ever since he’d arrived in Monaco. “I don’t really know,” he said, exhaling deeply. “I’ve only been here for a few weeks. I turn 18 in a couple of weeks... and I guess I’m still figuring things out. It’s... it’s a lot to take in.”

She nodded again, giving him time to process the weight of it all. “Of course,” she said, her voice warm. “But listen, if you want to leave, we can make up for the missed child support. If you don’t feel comfortable here, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, okay?”

Noah didn’t know what to say at first. He felt like he hadn’t even had time to adjust to life with his dad before people were talking about the next step. But then something in her words hit him. We can make up for the missed child support. She was offering him an option. She wasn’t trying to guilt him into staying; she was giving him a choice, and that felt... different.

“But if you want to stay,” she added with a smile, “we can make up for lost time. And I’ll take you shopping.”

Noah chuckled, feeling a little lighter at the thought of her offer. It was a small thing, but it was enough to make him feel like he had options. Like maybe, just maybe, he could make a life here.

“Shopping, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that the deal-breaker?”

She smiled knowingly. “A little retail therapy never hurt anyone. Plus, it’s a good way to build a real wardrobe.”

Noah smiled back, surprised by the warmth in his chest. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he wasn’t just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe—just maybe—he could find a place for himself here.

Over the next few days, Noah couldn’t help but notice the unique dynamic between his dad and her. It was almost like a carefully choreographed dance—Max would slack off, mess around, maybe even throw a tantrum, and she would step in like a well-oiled machine, putting everything back in order without missing a beat.

She was the one who could actually control him, Noah realised. Not that Max ever looked like he was being controlled—he had that cocky, self-assured air, like the world owed him something. But she was the one who could gently rein him in, who knew exactly when to cut him off, when to play the tough love card, and when to let him have his moment of weakness.

And Noah saw it. He saw how Max listened to her. He’d always thought that Max did whatever he wanted. But with her around, he noticed a shift. She was the one who could keep Max grounded in ways Noah never could, and in that, Noah saw something—something that made him wonder if, maybe, she was the only one who could be perfect for his dad.

It was race week, and everything was running at full throttle. Max was his usual self, the high-octane Formula 1 driver, constantly on the go, living off adrenaline and the expectations that came with it. They boarded the private jet with a few of the other drivers, and as soon as they were in the air, Max and his mates turned their attention to technical talk, while Noah, feeling out of place but not entirely unwelcome, found a seat beside her.

As the engines hummed in the background and the landscape below them blurred into a sea of clouds, Noah let himself relax for the first time in what felt like forever. She was reading through a set of files, occasionally glancing up at him with that comforting, steady gaze she had perfected.

“So...” Noah said, breaking the silence after a while, “How did you get this job?”

She looked up, offering him a warm smile as she closed the folder in her lap. “That’s a loaded question,” she said, her voice playful but still laced with that underlying wisdom. “How much time do you have?”

Noah grinned, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve got all the time in the world, it seems. Might as well learn something interesting.”

She chuckled softly. “Fair enough. Well, I’ve always had a thing for organisation. I’ve worked in a lot of high-pressure environments, but this—” she motioned around the jet, a flick of her hand that encompassed the luxury, the chaos, the busy hum of the race world “—this was different. I actually came into it by accident.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Accident? How does someone accidentally end up working with the best Formula 1 drivers in the world?”

She shrugged casually, like it was no big deal. “I used to be a personal assistant for a couple of big-name corporate execs, and after some... interesting situations, I realised I needed a change. My family had always been involved in motorsports, so I started working for a racing team, just answering emails, scheduling meetings. Then one day, Max’s manager called me in to help out with his chaotic schedule. The rest is history.”

Noah laughed. “I’m guessing Max’s schedule is a nightmare?”

She gave him a knowing look. “You could say that.” She lowered her voice as though she was telling him a secret. “Max’s not the easiest guy to manage, but we get along just fine.”

Noah nodded, his curiosity piqued. “What’s it like... working with him? I mean, really working with him?”

Her expression softened, and for a moment, she seemed almost nostalgic, like she was remembering the past. “He’s a pain, honestly. He doesn’t listen half the time, and he thinks he can do whatever he wants. But that’s Max, right? He’s got this fire in him, this energy that doesn’t let anyone or anything hold him back. And... well, someone has to keep the wheels turning when the engine’s running at full speed. That’s where I come in.”

Noah couldn’t help but grin. “Seems like you’re the only one who can actually keep him in line.”

She gave him a small smile, her eyes sparkling with that quiet confidence. “I don’t keep him in line—I just know how to get him to do what’s necessary. There’s a big difference.”

The jet hummed steadily, and Noah leaned back in his seat, thinking about what she’d said. She was good. Too good at her job to be just another assistant. She was like the secret engine that kept Max running, and Noah didn’t think he’d ever fully understand why she chose to work with him, but he didn’t mind. She clearly had everything under control.

“So, do you like it?” Noah asked, after a beat of silence. “The job? I mean, it’s got to be crazy, right?”

She smiled at the question, looking thoughtful. “It’s a lot, yes. But it’s also rewarding. I’ve always loved a challenge, and Max... well, he’s a big one. But he’s also got a heart under all that arrogance. It’s just buried deep. You’d have to stick around long enough to see it for yourself.”

Noah stared at her for a moment, absorbing her words. He wasn’t sure if he believed she meant that, but it made him wonder about his dad in a way he hadn’t before. Maybe she was the one person who understood Max better than anyone. Better than he did, that’s for sure.

As the flight continued, the other drivers gathered in the back, talking racing tactics and joking among themselves. Max glanced over at Noah, giving him a quick nod before returning to his conversation with the others. But even from where he sat, Noah couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but he felt... maybe a little bit more at home in this strange new world.

It wasn’t just about living up to the chaos or trying to impress his dad. It was about finding a balance between who he was and what this life could offer him. And maybe, just maybe, the one person who could make him see it clearly was sitting right in front of him, offering him coffee and a chance to truly know her story.

Race day had arrived, and the atmosphere was electric. The entire paddock was buzzing with energy as the team prepped for the race. Max’s PA was in the hospitality area, typing away at her laptop, responding to emails and making sure everything was in place for the post-race debrief. Her calm, focused demeanor was the eye of the storm, while around her, chaos seemed to swirl.

Noah had been lingering nearby, watching the action unfold. The race cars lined up, the drivers warming up in their suits, engineers giving last-minute adjustments. But Noah couldn’t shake the feeling that there was still so much he didn’t understand. Formula 1 was more than just fast cars; it was strategy, timing, and a whole world he hadn’t fully cracked yet.

She noticed him staring into the pit, looking like he was trying to figure it all out, and her lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. She closed her laptop and pushed her chair back, standing up.

"Hey," she called over to him, "You look a little lost. Want to get some fresh air?"

Noah blinked, his gaze lifting to meet hers. "Sure. I mean, I could use a break."

She motioned toward the balcony, a quieter spot away from the noise of the paddock. "Come on. Let’s go up there. I'll teach you a few things about the race."

They made their way out, and as soon as they stepped onto the balcony, Noah took in the view of the circuit below. He hadn’t even noticed the race started. Or was this the formation lap? He was sure he read something about that. The track was alive, filled with motion, the cars zipping around as the tension built toward the start.

She leaned against the railing, her arms folded as she studied Noah. “So, how much do you know about all this? The strategy, the pit stops, all that?”

Noah shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. “I know a decent amount. I mean, mum sometimes put on the race for me to shut me up, but I didn’t really get into the details. She wasn’t into it, and I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it.” He paused, then added with a bit of a sheepish grin, “So I know the basics, but it’s a lot more complicated than I thought.”

She nodded, a knowing look crossing her face. “Yeah, it’s a lot more than just fast cars and fuel. Let me give you the rundown.”

She began explaining the finer details of race strategy—the tire choices, how teams monitored fuel and tire degradation, the timing of pit stops, the importance of keeping track of the weather. As she talked, Noah found himself listening intently, his mind absorbing the information. She wasn’t just teaching him about the race; she was showing him how the puzzle pieces fit together.

“You’re getting it,” she said, smiling at him as he absorbed it all. “The strategy isn’t just about winning; it’s about staying ahead of the competition at every turn. A good driver can have the skill, but it’s the team that makes them successful.”

Noah nodded, feeling a new sense of respect for everything that went into a race. “I get it now. It’s more than just the guy behind the wheel.”

She grinned. “Exactly.”

The sound of the race engines revving up brought them both back to the present. The cars were lining up, and she could feel the tension building as the race was about to begin. She turned toward Noah, her tone shifting slightly. “Alright, time to get back to work. Max has quite a few places to make up.”

They both turned toward the pit, and with a knowing glance, she led Noah back inside.

The race was intense, but as the laps ticked down, Max started to pull away from the pack. Noah could see it happening before anyone else—his dad was dominating, racing like the champion he was. It wasn’t just about the car; it was about Max’s relentless drive.

And then, it happened. Max crossed the finish line in first place, and the entire team erupted in celebration. Noah felt a strange mix of pride and awe. This was his dad—he was winning, and it was like nothing else mattered in that moment.

She was already moving, heading straight for the garage to make sure everything was set for the post-race celebrations. Noah followed behind her, curious but also wanting to see what happened next.

As they entered the garage, Noah couldn’t help but ask, “Why are we back here?”

She turned to him with a knowing smile. “Away from the cameras,” she said simply. “Sometimes the celebrations should be private.”

The doors opened just as Max walked in, his face flushed with triumph, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on her. Without a second thought, he crossed the space in long strides, pulling her into a tight hug.

Noah watched them, a small smile tugging at his lips as he saw the chemistry between them. It was impossible to ignore—the way Max’s arms wrapped around her, how she laughed softly in his arms, as though they had all the time in the world. It wasn’t just the physical connection between them, it was the way they fit together. They had this unspoken understanding, this quiet intimacy that Noah couldn’t deny.

For the first time, he felt like an outsider—just a kid who had stumbled into a world he didn’t fully understand, yet somehow found himself caught in the middle of something bigger than himself. Watching them together, he couldn't help but think they were cute—and it was a thought that made him feel oddly warm inside.

Max pulled away from her, looking down at Noah with a mischievous grin. “Atta boy, kid,” he said, pulling Noah into a hug. The older man’s arms enveloped him easily, and for a second, Noah felt the weight of everything—his confusion, his place in all of this, but also the new undeniable love for moments like this, moments he never had. 

It was rare, moments like these, where Noah felt like he truly belonged in this world, like he wasn’t just a spectator in anyone’s life. The hug felt like a reassurance, like Max was showing him, in his own way, that he was happy he was here.

As they pulled apart, Noah found himself grinning, the rush of the race and the moment of connection filling him with something he couldn’t quite name. But whatever it was, it felt real.

She stepped forward, brushing off a stray piece of hair from her face. “Good job, Max,” she said, her voice soft but proud. “You didn’t screw it up for once.”

Max shot her a playful look. “Who are you calling a screw-up?”

She winked at him. “You, it’s just not obvious because I pick up your slack Max Emilian.”

Noah looked between them, watching the playful banter, and for the first time since he’d arrived in Monaco, he felt like things were... right. Whatever this was between his dad and her, it was something real. And maybe, just maybe, it could be the foundation for something that could help him find his place in this chaotic world.

taglist: @linnygirl09 @mirrorball-6 @miyasuni

[callsign-mayhem]

heartbreak feels so good (part 1)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 8081 CW: Shitty boyfriends, angst, fluff, slow burn.

Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.

Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.

Part Two Part Three

After another day of having your feelings totally ignored by your boyfriend, you were looking forward to some alone time. Elijah was so hot and cold that you felt as though you were in a constant state of fight or flight, just waiting for him to either make your day or ruin it completely. Most of the time, it was the latter, and although good days with him were few and far between, they were enough to make you stay. See, you didn’t half-ass anything—least of all relationships—so when you were in something, you were in it. You told Elijah that much after your first date. You’d been sitting in the front of his beemer eating ice cream, having the first of many deep talks. Between sweet, sticky kisses, you’d told him that you were dating to marry. He told you he was, too. 

He said, ‘I’m yours if you’ll have me, Y/N.’ And that was that.

And it was almost a year ago. You’d survived a somewhat tumultuous winter with him, desperately trying to cling on to the version of him he’d been during the summer. As time went on, he stopped putting his mask on, secure enough in your relationship that he no longer felt the need to pretend to be caring and considerate. The days were starting to get longer, and the weather was warming up again, but Elijah was so far from the man he was at the start that you might as well have been in a relationship with a different person. Every morning, you woke up with no idea what personality to expect that day, whether or not he was going to take all his personal drama out on you, even though you only ever loved and supported him. 

Today had been one of those days, and as you finished up with the F-18 engine currently in pieces in front of you, you silently prayed that he wouldn’t text you asking to come over. He was also a naval aviator, but you were working on different parts of the base today. Thank God. Elijah’s callsign was Viper, fitting since vipers prey on small animals by envenomating them and watching them die slowly. 

Coyote appeared behind you, helmet tucked underneath his arm.

‘Hey, we’re all heading to The Hard Deck for beers,’ he told you. ‘You comin’?’ You grabbed a rag and made an attempt to wipe some of the oil off. ‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘I want to, but then I’ll have to bring Elijah, and I don’t really wanna see him tonight.’ ‘Why do you have to bring him?’ Coyote frowned. ‘He’s a lousy drunk and never lets you have any fun.’ ‘If he finds out I went out with all you guys, he’ll think I’m up to something.’ ‘Like gettin’ with me?’ He joked, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Probably,’ you laughed. ‘You or one of the others. Or maybe he’ll accuse me of getting with all of you if he’s in a particularly bad mood.’ ‘Listen, if you wanna come, you’re welcome. We’ll just make sure nobody posts about it, and we’ll get you a fake moustache or somethin’.’

It broke your heart to think about all your closest friends having a fun night without you. Over the past year, you’d lost count of the amount of experiences you’d missed out on because you didn’t want to make Elijah upset or angry with you. The worst part was it was a double standard. He went out without you all the time, didn’t tell you where he’d gone or who he was with, and expected you to be okay with it. If you weren’t, you could kiss your peace goodbye; he’d spend the next week making your life a living hell, ignoring you entirely until you apologised to him for being hurt by his actions.

‘You know what Javy? Count me in.’ He grinned. ‘Thatta girl.’ 

It was hard to regret coming out when you felt this good. It had been months since you’d gone on a night out without Elijah, which was to say it had been months since you last enjoyed yourself. As you sipped your second sex on the beach, you mused that some kind of higher power must have been looking out for you because you’d yet to receive a single text from your boyfriend. Most of the time, when you spent the night apart, he’d call you incessantly. It was annoying, sometimes bordering on obsessive, and you didn’t need him to tell you he was checking on you, or rather, checking that you were alone in your apartment. That much was obvious. 

Dating an insecure man was not for the weak.

You were sat at one of the high tables next to the window watching Jake, Mickey, Javy, and Reuben play pool. Nat was opposite nursing a beer, glowing in the golden light of the evening. Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, smiling at the notification. 

‘Rooster’s on his way,’ she told you. ‘He wasn’t gonna come out tonight, but I told him he didn’t have a choice. It’s not every day Y/N Y/L/N leaves the comfort of her apartment.’ You scoffed. ‘That’s not exactly how I’d put it.’ ‘No?’ Nat raised a brow. 

You hadn’t drunk in months, and despite only being on your second drink, the booze had loosened your lips significantly. 

‘No. It’s not that I’d rather stay home, it’s that staying home makes my life easier because then I don’t have Elijah breathing down my fucking neck.’

Little did you know, Javy had told everyone about your conversation earlier. Not because he was a gossip but because he was worried about you. It was rare for you to open up to the squad about your relationship, but it wasn’t hard to guess what happened behind closed doors. They all worked with Viper, for one, and they were familiar with his temperament. Not only that, but you dropped off the face of the Earth a few months after you started dating him, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

‘I don’t know why you’re still with him, Y/N. He’s an ass.’ ‘I know,’ you sighed, frowning into your drink. ‘It’s just not as straightforward as just leaving. I still love him. If I can make this work, I don’t have to start all over again with someone else.’ Nat nodded in understanding. ‘I get wanting to make it work, but at what cost? You don’t see your friends, and he uses you as an emotional punching bag. You can’t even come to the beach with us without him checking on you every five minutes,’ she reached over the table and took your hand. ‘He’s killing you.’

This was the first time someone had spoken their mind to you about the situation. While you already knew all of it, hearing it from one of your best friends hit home. Vodka made you emotional, and if not for Bradley, you would have broken down there and then. 

He walked up to the table and engulfed you in a hug, practically pulling you off your stool. You pressed your face into his shirt, inhaling the scent of clean cotton and sandalwood. Half expecting Elijah to spring out and catch you in the act, you reluctantly pulled away. 

‘Hey, Bradley.’ ‘Hey yourself, stranger. Can’t believe you’re gracing us with your presence.’ ‘I know, it’s been a while.’ ‘A while? Try six months,’ he glanced at your almost empty glass and Nat’s empty bottle of Heineken. ‘Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?’ ‘Do you even have to ask?’ Nat retorted.  ‘What’re you drinking, darlin’?’ He asked you. You smiled sheepishly. ‘Sex on the beach.’  ‘I can make that happen.’ He smirked.

Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response to that remark because he turned around and headed to the bar. You locked eyes with Nat, and both of you burst out laughing.

Just like that, all the negativity you’d been feeling dissipated like rain against hot tarmac. 

Bradley came back with the drinks, and the three of you took the opportunity to catch up while the others finished their pool game. You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to find out that you’d missed a lot. Bradley had started dating one of the medics, but the relationship had crashed and burned almost immediately. He hadn’t bothered trying to meet anyone else since. Nat, after watching all her friends have such bad experiences in the dating world, had decided she was better off alone. 

‘Honestly, I don’t blame you.’ You told her. ‘You should dump Viper,’ she said with a devilish grin. ‘And we can have a hot girl summer.’ Bradley laughed. ‘Can’t say I ever imagined you saying that, Nix.’  ‘Isn’t that what it’s called now? We can’t be that out of touch, surely.’ ‘I don’t wanna think about how old I am.’ You said, picking up your phone to see if you’d missed any texts from Elijah. You hated to think what kind of argument missing one of his calls would start.  Nat and Rooster shared a knowing look. ‘It rings, you know? Out loud.’

Being this transparent was embarrassing. 

‘I think I’m going to confiscate this for now.’ Ignoring your protests, Bradley swiped your phone and tucked it into his pocket. ‘If he calls or texts, I’ll let you know.’

You were tipsy enough not to try and take your phone back but not tipsy enough to be unbothered by the idea of Elijah calling and you not picking up.

‘If he calls, I need it back straight away,’ you told him sternly. ‘If I don’t pick up, I’ll never hear the end of it.’

Bradley rolled his eyes, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He hated Elijah the most of all your friends. Perhaps sensing some tension, Nat slid off her stool and grabbed your arm, practically yanking you off yours.

‘Let’s go pick a song,’ she suggested. ‘We can get more drinks on the way back.’

Since it had been so long since you last visited The Hard Deck, she let you choose. You picked Rebel Yell by Billy Idol, your mum’s favourite. Admittedly, you’d been missing your home town a lot more than usual lately, perhaps because you were in such a weird place mentally. Things must be worse than you thought if you were considering running home with your tail between your legs. 

As the night went on, you got drunker and drunker. Bradley watched with a bemused grin as you dragged Bob off to the jukebox again, since he was the easiest person to coerce into doing things. How Bradley wished it was him you were clinging to. Not that he was jealous of Bob—because that would be like being jealous of a puppy—he just desperately wanted to be the object of your affection. 

While you and Bob went to change the music, Bradley struck up a conversation with Natasha and Reuben, who erupted into laughter when you pulled Bob’s arm so hard he almost toppled over. 

‘It’s nice to have Y/N out, huh?’ He observed. Nat looked at him like he was the biggest dickhead in the world. ‘Come on, Bradshaw. He might be an ass, but she’s got a boyfriend.’

Bradley sipped his beer, desperately trying to come up with a believable response. Reuben smirked knowingly, which only made Bradley more annoyed.

‘I don’t have a thing for Y/N.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, man.’ ‘Come on, Payback. You too?’ Reuben shrugged. ‘Doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You look at her like she’s God’s gift.’

The reason Bradley looked at you like you were God’s gift is because you were, but nobody was supposed to know that. 

‘Why do women stay with guys that treat them like shit?’ Bradley asked. ‘Depends on the woman,’ Natasha started. ‘But if you mean Y/N, it’s because she can’t do anything halfway. She told me earlier that it’s because she doesn’t want to start over with someone new, but I don’t think that’s it. She just loves so hard, and it takes a lot out of her. Why would she wanna start the process all over again if she already has someone?’ Bradley was incredulous. ‘Erm, I don’t know, maybe because he’s emotionally abusing her.’

You and Nat were close. In a way, she knew you better than you knew yourself, so she was the best person for Bradley to ask about things. Now, however, he was kind of regretting opening his mouth. Knowing why you were staying with a guy who treated you so badly didn’t make it easier to accept like Bradley thought it would; it only filled him with white-hot rage. 

‘It’s not as easy as just leaving. She has to come to it on her own.’ ‘Yeah,’ Reuben chimed in. ‘You can’t convince Y/N of shit.’ Natasha scoffed. ‘Yup, and believe me, I’ve tried.’  ‘So what, we just sit around and watch him ruin her?’ ‘Y/N’s a smart cookie and one of the strongest people I know. She’ll come to her senses, and when she does, we’ll be here.’ ‘You know, I read somewhere once that you can’t save anyone. You can only hold their hand while they save themselves.’ Nat raised a brow. ‘Damn, Payback. That might be the wisest thing you’ve ever said.’ ‘Hey, why do you sound so surprised?’ ‘You really want me to answer that?’

Bradley had a lot to think about. Realistically, he knew there was nothing he could do. His only option was to let things unfold naturally and have faith that things would work out exactly the way they were supposed to. The only problem was, that sounded too much like ‘sit back and do nothing,’ which didn’t feel right either. 

Bradley needed another drink. 

In fact, he was just about to head to the bar when you came bounding over, dragging poor Bob behind you. 

‘Roooooooooster.’ You cooed.

His heart just about melted when you started batting your eyelashes at him. 

‘What’s up, Y/CS?’

Everyone else was watching the interaction expectantly, waiting to hear what you were going to say next. 

‘You’re really pretty.’ Bradley laughed, hoping you were too drunk to notice the blush he could feel creeping across his cheeks. ‘Thank you. You’re really pretty, too.’ Nat, sensing the need to intervene, came around and gently grabbed your arm. ‘Hey, let’s get you a glass of water, huh?’ ‘But I need to tell Roo how pretty he looks.’

Bradley’s heart fluttered at your use of the pet name. He really didn’t want you to leave, but Nat was right. You needed some water and probably your bed. 

‘You told him already, Y/N. And when you get back, you can tell him again.’

She started leading you away, and Bradley immediately missed your presence. 

A very flushed-looking Bob took Nat’s empty stool. ‘That girl is somethin’ else.’ He murmured, pushing his glasses back up his nose. ‘I don’t think you should let her drink anymore.’ ‘I’m not her keeper,’ Bradley responded. ‘Can’t stop her from doing anything.’ Bob shrugged. ‘Maybe so, but you’re all she talked about. You and the fact that there’s no Fall Out Boy in the jukebox. Pretty sure she called it a ‘fucking tragedy.’’  Bradley leaned forward. ‘What did she say about me?’ ‘You know,’ Bob waved a hand dismissively. ‘You’re pretty. Her boyfriend is gonna kill her if he finds out she’s here with you because he thinks you have a thing for her.’ Bradley was at a loss for words. Reuben, however, was grinning like a fool. ‘What was that about not having a thing for her? Even her boyfriend’s caught on, man.’  ‘How many times do I have to say I do not have a thing for-’

An annoyingly loud ringing sound interrupted Bradley’s sentence. It didn’t sound like his ringtone, but the noise was coming from his pocket. It took him too long to remember that he had your phone in his pocket, and that it was probably Viper calling. Sure enough, when he took out your phone, he was greeted by a sickeningly sweet photo of you and your boyfriend on the beach. You and Nat were still at the bar, and he knew he should just let it ring so you could call him back later. 

But something had a hold of Bradley, and he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear before he could really process what he was doing. 

‘Y/N’s phone.’ 

A beat of silence, then some of the most colourful language Bradley had ever heard in his life. 

‘Who the fuck is this, and why the fuck have you got my girlfriend’s phone?’  ‘Y/N can’t come to the phone right now. She’s at the bar with her friend, gettin’ another round of drinks, and I just know hearing your voice would ruin her night. It’s ruined mine, that’s for sure. If you want, I can take a message, and she’ll get back to you in the morning.’

Reuben was nearly on the floor, trying desperately not to laugh in case Viper heard him. Bob had paled significantly, like he’d seen a ghost—or worse. 

‘That you, Bradshaw? I just knew something was going on-’

Bradley hung up. The severity of the situation was beginning to hit, and despite the sick satisfaction he’d felt when he picked up the phone, he was regretting his decision already. 

‘Y/N is gonna kill you, Rooster.’ Bob told him. 

Nat made the sensible decision to cut you off, but she said you could stay out with them until closing if you promised to keep drinking water and stop fucking around with the jukebox. That was how you ended up in the corner of a booth with Bradley next to you to stop you from escaping.

Not that you’d want to escape. 

Mickey had joined, and the guys were playing cards while you and Nat talked. She was catching you up on her life, and it made a change to think about someone other than Elijah for once.

That’s when it hit you.

You hadn’t checked your phone in hours, and you dreaded to think how many texts and calls you’d missed. 

‘Bradley, can I have my phone?’

He set his hand of cards down on the table and reached into his pocket. When you reached out to take it, he pulled away.

‘Before I give this to you, I need to tell you something.’

A wave of nausea hit you. 

‘What? What’s going on?’ ‘Viper called about an hour ago. You were at the bar, and I didn’t know what to do, so I answered it.’ Reuben leaned forward in his seat. ‘Oh, this is about to be good.’

You thought you knew what panic felt like, but up until this very moment, you had no idea. Bradley was lucky you didn’t throw up in his lap from the nerves.

‘What?’ ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I wasn’t thinking-’

You snatched your phone from him, ignoring the kicked-puppy expression he was sporting. A slew of angry text messages that were borderline abusive greeted you. You skimmed them quickly, not wanting to read too many in case you started crying in front of the entire squad. 

What started out as the best night you’d had in a while quickly turned into the worst. Your boyfriend's hateful messages reminded you why you never went out and why this was the biggest mistake you could have made.

The worst part was you saw it coming.

‘Move,’ you said, grabbing your bag. ‘Bradley, let me out now.’ ‘You can’t drive like this, Y/N. Let one of us take you home.’

Bradley sounded destroyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

‘Move.’

He nudged Bob, who stood up so Bradley could climb out of the booth. You were close behind him, and when your feet touched the floor, you nearly keeled over. Bradley reached out to steady you, but you shook him off.

‘Y/N. You can’t leave like this. How are you gonna get home?’

Ignoring his pleas, you made a beeline for the exit. Nat shoved Reuben into Mickey, trying to hurry them out of the booth so she could follow you, but you were surprisingly fast for a drunk person. Bradley was right about one thing: there was no way you could drive in this state. You ducked around the corner so Nat couldn’t see you and sank to the floor. Hot tears prickled behind your eyes as you did the one thing you didn’t want to do, but the only thing you could do.

You called Elijah. 

He didn’t answer the first, second, third, or fourth time. 

Half an hour passed, and you didn’t move. At one point, you heard Bradley, Nat, and Reuben talking around the corner, coming up with a plan for where to look for you. They knew you were on foot because your car was still in the lot, and since you’d disappeared so quickly, you couldn’t have gotten far. If the situation weren’t so tragic, it would’ve been funny that you were hiding ten paces away, and none of them could find you. 

It was getting very late. People were getting in their cars and leaving or jumping into Ubers. Soon, your Jeep would be the only car left. You couldn’t face the daggers, and you couldn’t drive home, so you picked yourself up and took a slow walk down the beach to where the water met the sand. 

What a beautiful night to have your heart broken. 

There was no way Elijah would ever forgive you for this, no way you’d ever be able to convince him that nothing had happened between you and Bradley. The sane part of you knew that it was crazy to feel guilty for simply enjoying a night out with your friends, but the sane part of you rarely won these days. The part of you that loved Elijah was always loudest and knew this could never have gone any other way. 

You were just about to resign yourself to calling a cab when you heard someone yelling your name from the top of the beach. 

You either had the best or worst luck in the world because it was Bradley. 

He made short work of the distance, giving you no time to come up with something to say. He looked otherworldly in the pale moonlight. His hair was slightly mused, and the same insane part of you that loved what it loved was whispering at you to run your fingers through it. 

‘We’ve been looking all over for you, Y/N.’ He sounded very concerned as he pulled out his phone and texted the others to let them know you were safe. ‘I’m sorry, I just needed to be alone.’

You hadn’t even realised you were shivering until Bradley draped his Levi jacket over your shoulders. 

‘You needed to be alone, or you needed to call Viper back?’ The tears threatened to make another appearance. ‘It’s none of your business.’ ‘What makes you think it’s not my business? I care about you and don’t want to keep watching you get hurt.’ ‘Then stop watching!’

Bradley recoiled, and you immediately felt awful. How Elijah spoke to you like that day in and day out without feeling guilty was a mystery to you. 

‘I’m sorry, Bradley,’ you sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around you. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just very drunk and very emotional right now.’

He softened immediately and seemed torn about whether he should let you stand there freezing or pull you close. You hoped he wouldn’t try to pull you close because you didn’t think you’d have the guts to tell him no. Good feelings had been so incredibly hard to come by as of late.

‘Why are you still with him, Y/N?’ Bradley asked almost pleadingly. 

Wow. He didn’t waste any time getting right to the point. 

‘That’s a loaded question.’ ‘I need you to explain it to me because it’s killing me.’

You thought about it for a moment, and Bradley waited with bated breath to hear what you had to say.

In the end, it was this: ‘I guess we accept the love we think we deserve.’ 

Until you said it out loud, this phrase held little meaning to you. Now that it was out in the open, it was very heavy. In the last few months you’d tried coming up with a decent explanation as to why you were staying with Elijah, and you fell short every time. Turns out all you needed to do was get drunk and have an honest conversation to figure it out. 

Coming to the realisation that what you’d just said was true felt like being in freefall. Everything in your life was changing shape to fit around this ugly truth. The good things in your heart shied away in the face of this monstrous fact. 

You didn’t think you deserved a healthy love. 

Somehow, Bradley was more hurt by this than when you’d snapped at him earlier. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet your eye like you’d just told him he wasn’t worthy of love.

‘You don’t think you deserve to be happy?’

Hearing him say it was somehow even worse.

‘Apparently not.’

You were both quiet for a moment, and then, for whatever reason, you laughed. 

‘This is news to me too.’

The waves crashed loudly, water lapping at your feet as the tide came in. You couldn’t stand out here having epiphanies all night. 

‘Listen, Rooster, I need to go home. I’m sorry for snapping.’ ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said quietly. ‘But we should talk tomorrow when you’re sober. Maybe we could get coffee.’ You shook your head. ‘After tonight, I don’t think that’s a smart idea. I’ll probably be spending tomorrow trying to salvage what’s left of my relationship.’ ‘You’re not serious.’ ‘I am.’

He opened his mouth to protest but then appeared to change his mind. You watched as all the fight he had left in him dissolved. There was nothing left for him to say, and he knew it. 

The irritating birds that constantly chirped right outside your bedroom window woke you up. It was too damn early, and your head felt as though it was splitting open. When you sat up, you were hit by a wave of nausea so strong that you had no other choice but to sprint to the bathroom, smashing into the corner of your chest of drawers on the way. 

Which was to say, it was a bad morning. 

After you had puked up the entire contents of your stomach, you jumped straight in the shower, brushed your teeth, and did your skincare. At least if Elijah showed up at your front door, you wouldn’t look like you got super drunk last night, even though he’d probably already guessed. 

When you checked your phone, there were still no notifications from him, and when you called, there was no answer. This wasn’t unlike him, but it had been almost twelve hours since Bradley picked up your phone, and you would have thought he’d have something to say by now. 

To distract yourself from your impending doom, you threw open all the windows in your apartment, made your bed, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher—all the usual morning tasks. It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful Saturday, but you doubted you’d enjoy any of your hobbies when you were this anxious and hungover. 

With nothing else left to do, you set about making some breakfast. 

Just as you put your bagel in the toaster, somebody knocked on the door. 

Your stomach twisted itself into an impossibly tight knot. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move until whoever it was knocked a second time. 

You looked through the peephole, expecting to see Elijah standing there with his dark eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It was the only scenario that had crossed your mind, so when you saw Bradley standing there, you were very surprised. 

You took a deep breath and opened the door, greeted by the warm scent of sandalwood once again. 

‘Bradley?’

He was holding two iced lattes, which you were betting were vanilla—your favourite. Elijah hadn’t done that for you since the first week of your relationship.

‘Hey, Y/N. Thought you could use this.’

He wasn’t wrong. You ushered him inside, and he headed to the kitchen, where he 

perched himself on one of the stools at your kitchen island. This morning, he was sporting one of his more toned-down Hawaiian shirts and dark jeans. His eyelids drooped, and you wondered if he’d slept at all. 

‘I was just about to make bagels. Want one?’ ‘Sure, thank you.’

You busied yourself, putting bacon and eggs into a pan while he sipped his coffee. He eyed you with the curiosity of someone who had come over to check that you were all in one piece. Once he was satisfied that you were, he relaxed slightly. 

‘Thank you for bringing me home last night. I really appreciate it.’ You told him earnestly.  ‘You don’t need to thank me. You’d have done the same thing.’ ‘True, but still. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.’ 

Last night was gradually coming back to you in flashes, like a supercut. Each time you remembered a new detail, you cringed internally. 

‘You also don’t need to apologise. Has he called you?’ 

While the eggs and bacon were cooking, you toasted another bagel for Bradley and buttered yours. Even though you’d known him for years and been quite close until you got into a relationship, you were struggling to admit that you were pretty much being ghosted. It was already hard to walk around on base knowing that everybody was aware of how Elijah treated you. When you didn’t respond, Bradley took that as a no. 

‘Well, that’s his problem,’ he spat. ‘You did absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe if he were less of a control freak, you would have felt like you could tell him you were out with us rather than hiding it, and then he wouldn’t have found out the way he did.’

The toaster popped, and you jumped. It felt like somebody had run a cheese grater over your nerves. Bradley ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, clearly trying to reign in his anger.

‘I should apologise too,’ he continued. ‘I shouldn’t have answered your phone. It was a dick move, and I regretted it the instant I did it.’ 

You buttered the second bagel, put one egg on each of the bottom halves, and stacked two pieces of bacon on top before adding the top part. You didn’t say a word the entire time, and Bradley was starting to get antsy. 

‘Y/N. Please talk to me.’ ‘I don’t know what to say, Roo. I’m struggling even to think straight right now. He knows it drives me fucking crazy when he’s having a go at me and doesn’t respond. I don’t understand why he does it, knowing how it makes me feel.’ Bradley sighed. ‘Because he doesn’t give a shit how you feel. He doesn’t give a shit about anything other than himself and how he feels.’ 

This wasn’t news to you, but again, it was more impactful to hear someone else say it out loud. Really, how long could you keep this up? Whether you thought you deserved it or not, you were starting to wonder if you might be better off alone than with someone who made living feel like walking next to a cliff with your eyes closed. 

You pushed Bradley’s plate across the counter and picked up your bagel. Eating felt impossible, but getting through the day with this headache would be excruciating if you didn’t at least try. 

‘Come and sit down,’ Bradley said. ‘It’s not good to eat standing up.’ Despite everything, you managed to laugh. And this time, it was a real laugh. ‘Why?’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I don’t know. My mum used to say it all the time.’

You did as you were told, and you walked around the island, taking the seat next to him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, periodically taking sips of your coffees. This was how easy it should have been with Elijah. 

When you were both finished, Bradley put your plates, pan, and utensils into the dishwasher. You were too tired to tell him to stop. 

‘Thanks for breakfast.’  You smiled. ‘Thanks for being you.’

Bradley’s smile mirrored your own. Unsaid words hung in the air, but you didn’t know what to say. His leaving didn’t feel right, but if he stayed and Elijah made an appearance, he’d most definitely break up with you. 

But wasn’t this radio silence all the confirmation you needed that things were pretty much over, anyway? You were starting to wonder if this weekend had all happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Your eyes were indeed open, that was for sure. Of course, you’d known that the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this weekend had really driven the point home. 

‘Do you wanna go for a walk along the beach?’ You asked, hopefully. ‘We could grab some ice cream at that little place next to the arcade.’

Bradley didn’t just look happy. He also looked relieved that you weren’t asking him to leave. 

‘I’d love to.’

It was a beautiful Spring day, perfect walking weather. Honestly, it was the last thing Bradley expected you to suggest, so he jumped on the idea before you could change your mind and send him home.

Because he really didn’t want to go home. 

He’d sensed that you didn’t want to talk about Viper, and you’d yet to bring up your conversation on the beach last night. Bradley was beginning to doubt that you even remembered everything you said—all that nonsense about not deserving a healthy love. Bradley didn’t take you as a liar, which meant you believed that you weren’t deserving of happiness. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite so sad and also angry at the same time. So many emotions were warring for the top spot in his heart, and as a result, his brain was incredibly foggy.

A walk along the beach with you was perhaps the only cure.

‘Did you hear about Hangman?’ Bradley assumed you hadn’t. ‘No?’ ‘He’s getting deployed. He’s leaving next month.’ ‘How long is he going for?’ ‘Six months.’ You whistled lowly. ‘Damn.’ ‘I know. I think he’s looking forward to it, though. I sure am.’ ‘You know, I don’t think you hate him half as much as you say.’ Bradley chuckled. ‘Maybe not, but being nice to him wouldn’t feel right. Even after everything that happened on the mission.’ 

The two of you walked down the beach, chit-chatting about anything that came to mind. You were about halfway to the ice cream place when your phone pinged. Bradley guessed it would be Viper, but he never could have guessed what the message said. 

It was a photo of you and Bradley walking down the beach, taken from behind. The picture had been forwarded to you from someone else. 

E<3: always knew you were a slut.

You inhaled sharply, obviously hurt by the words on the screen. Not two seconds later, he sent another text. 

E<3: PS: we’re fucking over.

The two of you had stopped walking. Bradley watched over your shoulder as you furiously typed a reply and deleted it again. You turned to face him, and his heart just about broke when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t need to say a word. He pulled you close to him, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You stayed that way for a while, sobbing into his Hawaiian shirt as he rubbed your back soothingly. When you eventually pulled away, the first thing you did was apologise. 

‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, sweet girl. He’s the one who should be sorry.’ You sniffled. ‘I don’t know what to reply.’ ‘Leave it for now,’ he said. ‘We can go get ice cream, take a slow walk back to yours. Then I’ll help you think of something.’ ‘I don’t know if I feel like ice cream anymore.’ ‘Well, that’s too bad because I do. Ice cream is the best remedy for heartbreak.’ ‘Did your mum tell you that too?’ ‘She sure did.’ 

It turns out Bradley was right about ice cream being the best remedy for heartbreak. The two of you sat on the wall, watching the waves while he munched on a mint chocolate chip cone and you butterscotch. It was hard to tell whether it was the best ice cream you’d ever had or if it was because you were with Bradley. If you remembered correctly, you’d had ice cream from this same place with Elijah before, and it hadn’t been this nice.

Thinking back on your memories with him only made you want to cry, so you did your best to shove them to the back of your mind. Despite the fact that he was actually a very shitty person, he’d been a dream at the beginning, and that didn’t just go away. The happy moments didn’t just suddenly turn to ash, as much as you wished they would. 

‘What are your plans for the rest of the night?’ Bradley asked around his ice cream cone. ‘I don’t know, Roo. I’m kinda working on a minute-to-minute basis right now.’ Bradley nodded. ‘Okay, well, what would you say to junk food run and a movie night?’ ‘With you?  ‘If you want to. I just don’t think it’s good for you to be alone.’ ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me.’ ‘Is that what you think this is?’ ‘No, but I don’t want to be a burden. Or a charity case.’ ‘Y/N, you’re none of those things. I always want to spend time with you. Just so happens I have a good excuse today.’ You frowned into your ice cream. ‘Okay. As long as you’re sure.’ 

The two of you finished your ice cream and took a slow walk back to your apartment. When you got in, the first thing you noticed was a framed photograph of you and your now ex-boyfriend on the side table in the hallway. When your bottom lip started trembling, Bradley picked up the photo, put it face down, and then proceeded to run around your apartment and take down any others. It didn’t feel like the same place you’d left a few hours ago. It was haunted by memories that would never look right in the light of day. Even the happiest ones from the start were tainted with the ugliness of his cruel words and actions. 

‘This place is so depressing.’ You grumbled.

Bradley stood in front of you with a stack of photos and one of Elijah’s t-shirts. 

‘It’s not. It’s your home, Y/N. We just have to pack away his stuff and put it all in a box.’ ‘An ex-boyfriend box.’ Bradley smiled sadly. ‘Yeah, exactly. It might be over, and he might be a dick, but it was still a big part of your life, and it’s important to keep the memories safe in case you wanna look back on them someday.’ ‘Or in case I wanna burn them.’ ‘That too.’ Bradley chuckled

So you helped him gather all the mementoes from your relationship and put them in an old Dr Martens box. It all looked pretty pathetic, packed away in a shoebox.

‘I found one of his hoodies and a few other things.’ You called from your bedroom. ‘Can you grab me a bin bag from the top of the fridge?’

You heard shuffling, and then Bradley was standing in the doorway holding out the bag you requested. 

‘Damn, he doesn’t even get one of the nice Trader Joe's bags?’ ‘No,’ you giggled. ‘He gets a trash bag because his stuff is trash, and he’s trash.’

You weren’t really at the stage where you believed that just yet, but saying it was really satisfying, and it felt good to laugh. Fake it till you make it or whatever. 

‘Want me to give it to him tomorrow?’ ‘Thanks, but I should really be the one to do it. I haven’t even texted him back.’ You thought about it for a moment and then continued. ‘Would it be cheeky of me to ask if you’ll come with me? Maybe Nat, too? I could use some moral support, and he’s less likely to make a scene if the two of you are there.’ ‘Of course I’ll be there. I won’t say anything unless you need me to or unless he starts. I can’t make that same promise for Nix, though.’ ‘I haven’t even told Nat yet,’ you sighed. ‘I don’t think I wanna talk about it right this second.’ ‘I’ll text her. Don’t worry about it.’

From your spot on the floor, you looked up at Bradley. The evening sunlight was streaming in through the windows, casting an ethereal glow around him. 

‘You should change your callsign to angel.’ A look of pleasant surprise flickered across his handsome features. ‘Why?’ ‘Because you’re literally my angel, Roo. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’

Half an hour later, Bradley convinced you to go on a junk food run with him in the Bronco. He said tonight was a mandatory, post-breakup wallowing sesh because if you bottled up your feelings now, you’d explode later at a much more inconvenient time. 

The two of you had been screaming along to all the classic breakup songs: All Too Well by Taylor Swift (yes, he knew all the words), Who Knew by Pink, What About Now by Daughtry… He’d driven the long way to the store because you got so into it. 

Now, as you scanned the shelves in Target, you asked: ‘What is it about screaming sad songs that makes you feel better?’ ‘It’s cathartic,’ Bradley explained. ‘Helps you relieve the strong feelings.’ ‘You know a lot about heartbreak.’ ‘Well, I’ve had my fair share of sadness.’ You froze. ‘That was insensitive of me, I’m sorry.’ Bradley took the packed of Reeses Pieces from your hands so he could hold them. ‘Can you make me a promise?’ ‘What?’ You asked sceptically. ‘Promise you’re gonna stop apologising to me all the time. You have nothing to be sorry for.’ ‘Sorry.’ You smiled sheepishly.  He shook his head. ‘That’s not what you’re supposed to say.’ ‘Okay, fine,’ you huffed. ‘I promise to stop apologising all the time.’ ‘Thank you,’ Bradley said, releasing your hands reluctantly. ‘Now, pick out five more things.’ ‘Five? There’s already five things in the basket.’ ‘Did I ask?’ ‘I’m gonna get fat.’ ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Wallowing means junk food, and I don’t know if you’re looking at the same basket I am, but that’s not enough junk food.’ ‘Christ Almighty, okay.’ 

He helped you pick out five more things, and then you headed to check out.

‘What movies are good for wallowing?’ You asked. ‘Well, we have to start with a couple of sad ones and then finish with a happy one.’

The cashier told you your total, and Bradley tapped his card before you could even get yours out. You gave him a withering look.

‘I would’ve paid for that. You paid for the ice cream.’ ‘So?’ ‘So we should take it in turns.’

Obviously, he carried the bags as well, and as you walked back to the Bronco, he couldn’t help but wonder if Viper made you take it in turns. If you were his girl, you’d never have to tap your card.

‘What’s your favourite sad movie?’ He inquired.  You opened the trunk for him so he could put the bags in. ‘Technically, it’s not a sad movie. But there’s this part in Inside Out…Wait, have you watched it before? I don’t wanna spoil it for you.’ ‘The part where Bing Bong gets forgotten?’ You gasped. ‘How did you know?’ ‘Because it gets me every single time.’

The way you looked at him in that moment, like he had hung the moon in the sky—God, it was too much. 

‘We’ll start with Inside Out,’ he told you, opening the passenger door so you could climb in. ‘And then we’ll think of something else.’

Without giving much thought to what he was doing, Bradley found himself buckling your seatbelt for you. You were holding your breath, and it dawned on him how easy it would be to kiss you if he were that sort of guy.

And as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was not that sort of guy. He wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that some asshole had just taken a sledgehammer to your very beautiful heart. 

‘Can we watch Bridge To Terabithia?’ You whispered.

Bradley hadn’t moved, and you were so close that he could feel your warm breath on his cheek. 

‘Are you trying to break my heart, Y/N?’ ‘Yes. I want you to feel my pain.’ 

He was grinning the whole way around the car to the driver’s side and still grinning when he got in the car. You already had his phone in your hand, searching for more sad songs so you could continue your car concert on the way back to your apartment. He drove the long way again so the two of you could finish your rendition of ‘I Don’t Love You’ by My Chemical Romance, which Bradley didn’t know the words to. He tried his best, though, because you seemed to love it, and he couldn’t deny you anything. 

By the time you got home, the sun had almost entirely set. While he set the snacks out on the coffee table, you went around lighting candles and switching on fairy lights. He’d never seen your apartment in the dark, and it was incredibly cosy. Even though it was relatively warm, you dragged all your blankets and pillows from your bed and made a little nest on the sofa. You were so adorable, it was hard to believe that someone could treat you badly. 

If you were his girl, every night would look like this—except you’d be a lot happier, and there would be no tears. 

Halfway through Bridge To Terebitha, you fell asleep. Bradley had been trying to keep his distance despite wanting to wrap you up in his arms, yet somehow—in your sleep—you’d ended up with your legs in his lap. He’d frozen at first, but once he realised you were dead to the world, he allowed himself to rest his hands on your knees. Really, it was that or sit with his arms crossed, and that would be silly. 

For the duration of the movie, his attention flickered between you and the TV. Every time he tried paying attention to what was happening, his eyes wandered back to your peaceful face. He marvelled at your astounding beauty, the delicate way your eyelashes rested against the tops of your rosy cheeks. Bradley had always admired you, and you’d been good friends for years, but what he felt in that moment was something else entirely. By the time the end credits started rolling, he knew without a doubt that he’d set whole cities ablaze to keep you warm. Feelings as rapidly growing as his should have been terrifying, but Bradley wasn’t scared. Falling in love with you seemed to be as easy as wading out into a calm ocean on a warm summer’s day. 

He knew you’d yet to learn that falling in love and staying in love should always be this easy. He knew it was going to take some time to convince you that you deserved healthy love, that the right person would never run away from you and keep turning around to make sure you were chasing them. 

But Bradley was a patient man, and he would wait as long as he had to.

End of part one.

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 2/?

This story is constantly on my mind these days. (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn

Wordcount: 2555

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

After running after Red and failing to catch up, you make some improvised bandages out of some dead guy’s shirt, which you do apologize to him for, it was a nice shirt, not that he can answer you. Maybe there was a med-kit somewhere, but you do not want to start wandering aimlessly around a big warehouse. The cuts on your arms, leg, and face are shallow, but the ones on your stomach and chest will need stitches. 

You steal more clothes from some more dead guys, your pants being the only kind of salvageable garment, but it looks better to have pants that don't have a hole in them with three bleeding cuts underneath. You bundle up your ruined clothes, and take them out with you, not a great idea to leave more of yourself behind. There is of course some of your blood on the floor, but you are sure it’s all mixed up with everyone else's, so that won’t matter.

Though all the cars tires are slashed, you are lucky that your ‘boss’ and his rival had a certain ‘style’ they followed, so all of the cars are the same, or similar enough that they use the same wheels. So after a lot of swearing and sweating and bleeding, you can drive one car out, all spare tires. It’s not the best thing, since the movement of switching out the tires pulls at your wounds, but the only other option would have been to walk to a main road and then hitchhike, which would have been a disaster. The fabric making up your bandages has to be switched out after you are done, and you try to pretend it doesn’t worry you about how much blood you’ve lost, and how you are feeling a little woozy as you sit yourself down into the driver's seat.

Also on top of it all you have a headache building, filled with anger, frustration, panic, sadness, and confusion. You are sure the anger is yours, not too sure about everything else though, as your soulmate’s feelings have been mixing in with yours. Sometimes they seem separate, other times they mix so thoroughly that it’s just a mess. You rub your forehead, willing it all away. 

It doesn’t work, at all, not that you really thought it would, but a guy can dream.

For now though, you have other things to concentrate on. Such as calling your vet friend Evelyn so you can come to her clinic, and she can stitch you up so you won’t bleed out before seeing your soulmate Red again. 

This whole soulmate thing is something you’ve never wanted, but you want to at least talk to him, and agree that the bond is strictly going to be platonic, or rather the closest thing to actual non-existence. Something that you both can learn to ignore and mentally suppress, leaving each other alone until whoever shuffles off this mortal coil firsts severs the connection. 

You swear to yourself, hitting the steering wheel a few times, before picking up your phone and dialing Evelyn.

—-------

Ditching your ride is easy enough, you park it a few blocks away from your Evelyn's clinic, and leave the doors unlocked. It will be gone by morning. 

Your feet don't feel the steadiest, but if anyone were to look at you, you would just look like another drunk stumbling home from the bar. Seeing the lit sign with the little smiling dog that marks the right place, you slink into the alleyway next to the building. Your fist on the metal door on the side of the building is heavy. Lucky for you, you don’t have to wait long until Evelyn opens it. She’s frowning, but waves you in none the less, waiting to comment until she locks the door behind you.

“Thought you said at my birthday party you were going to slow down with these kinds of visits.”

“Yeah, but you know, unexpected things happen.” You follow her down the hallway, a familiar route as she leads you into a room where they normally operate on pets, and certainly not humans (other than you).

“At least you are alive. How’s the other guy?” She pats the metal table, before starting to find equipment, some meant for animals, other stuff stashed away from earlier visits. 

“I killed him.” You say as you move to sit at the table. You conveniently leave out the part where he got back up and the whole mess that followed, but at least what you say is true.

“What am I working with?” Evelyn has her back turned to you as she asks, but turns around to look at you, observing your clothes that are this time in one piece.

“Chest and stomach, one cut to each, about 8-10 inches, deep.” She winces as you pull your shirt off, revealing the blood-soaked makeshift bandages. “Some others, but they just need a clean-up and something to cover them later.” The bandages come off, you bite your lip not to hiss in pain, not that it really matters as Evelyn has heard and seen a lot.

“Nasty. Lay back.” You drop your shirt and the bloody rags that can hardly be called bandages on the end of the table, knowing she will complain about having to clean the floor if you dropped them there. 

“Ay ay, mam’.” You swing your legs up on the table and lay down, Evelyn just rolls her eyes at you.

“Don’t call me that, I’m not my mother.”

“Ay ay, sir, then?” You joke, but clench your jaw as she pokes at the edge of your chest wound.

“Good thing the money is good and my wife loves your brownies, or else I might kick you out for that.”

“Tell your wife I’m flattered, but I am very gay.” And have a soulmate, but you leave out that part.

“And so are we.” She grabs a leash from a drawer, holding it in front of your mouth. “Bite down, chipping a tooth will not charm anyone.” You take it, teeth closing around the fabric as Evelyn starts on the wound on your stomach.

You are going to fucking kill Red again.

Soulmate bond be damned.

—----

After Evelyn patches you up, she orders you home to rest, which to be fair, you do. 

For a day.

While looking up a little more about soulmates on your phone.

It’s not like you know nothing, but not wanting one had led you to tune out when people were talking about it, so you know little outside the basics of touch triggering it. It hadn’t seemed useful at the time, because why in the fuck would you need to know about something that was never going to happen to you? Now that you are in it though, you skim through articles about it, because even though you need to know at least a little more, you don’t need to know too many details.

Though some are useful to know. Like the fact that if soulmates are kept away from each other for too long, it will give negative side effects, both physical and mental. The mental you had kinda guessed, but the physical was new.

Headaches, irritable mood, nausea, and aching joints. 

Not fun.

Jesus fucking christ. 

At least your brief reading makes it seem like it doesn’t take that much to keep it in check, just some touches here and there, and time spent together. You grimace, it could have been worse you suppose, but if you have to shake Red’s hand a few times a year, and stay in a room with him for a few hours to keep your life somewhat normal otherwise, you suppose you can manage.

As much as you don’t want to.

Even as much as all you want is to forget it ever happened and leave the man alone.

If you hadn’t touched him back, he wouldn’t have even known, but you suspect if you hadn’t touched him, he would have killed you then.

Like you had him.

But in your defense, you hadn’t known, and he got back up.

So maybe you are just a little messed up, and not a lot.

After reading some more, you find out that lucky for you, soulmates can use their bond, when it’s established, to pull themselves towards their soulmate. Though the article mentioned it’s something most people only do after their bond has been strengthened and developed over time. 

You ignore that last part.

At least the article helps you visualize in your head how your feelings look like in your head. Yours are a river of color, his feelings are a tributary river that flows into yours, with another river of your feelings flowing out towards the ether, or rather, him.

Closing your eyes, you concentrate on your bond to him, the river of feelings going towards him, and those being sent to you. The weak, but pretty constant stream of feelings coming from the other man now in your mind. 

It’s hard to concentrate on, any time you open your eyes it slips into something intangible again, something that is just there, not something that leads you anywhere. So, like a fool, every so often you close your eyes while you still walk, letting your feelings guide your feet. You are certain you look stupid, walking with eyes closed and arms in front of you to make sure you don’t walk into anyone or anything.

It’s not like you keep your eyes closed for long, but it still makes you feel vulnerable.

The pull eventually leads you to an apartment building in a pretty average looking part of the city. You stand on the other side of the street for a while, to gauge how easy it will be to get in.

You can tell Red is inside the building, not moving, so you assume he’s in his apartment. You focus on his emotions, nothing sparks out, just a baseline with some spikes of happiness mixed in.

In the end, you conclude the easiest thing to do is to just wait until someone careless leaves the building, and slip in before the door can close behind them.

You lean on a wall near the front door, pretending to be engrossed in your phone as you wait.

It only takes 10 minutes for you to get your opportunity, slipping in silently and unnoticed. You take the stairs, here and there taking two steps at once, following the pull as well as you can with your eyes still open, until you find yourself in front of an apartment door where you can feel Red behind it. 

Your soulmate.

You wonder what his name actually is.

You force yourself to knock, instead of just trying to open the door, just breaking in.

There’s shuffling of feet, and to your surprise, a black woman with a white afro and sunglasses opens the door.

“What the fuck do you want?” 

“Where’s Red?”

“Who?”

“Red suit, guns and katanas, black around the eyes, a mask that is surprisingly animated?” You feel yourself getting irritated by the silence that description is met with. You wonder how much of it your soulmate is picking up. His emotions are shifting, flowing into what feels like nervousness.

You hear what sounds an awful lot like a squeak and, finally, his voice again.

“Al, close the fucking door.” 

“What the fuck have you done now?”

“Al, please!” You try to look past Al, seconds later the door is thrown shut in your face, the noise of the lock turning quickly following.

Okay, so fuck being polite. 

One deep breath, and then you’re raising one leg up, and kicking the fucking door in. There’s a yelp from someone as the door swings open fast and bounces off the wall behind it. You get into the apartment in a few quick strides, ignoring Al that is cursing at you, something about getting ‘the damn bat’.

“Okay, that was unfairly hot.” You spot him a second after the words leave his mouth. 

At least you’re fairly sure it’s him. He’s not wearing a red suit, instead he’s dressed in grey sweatpants, fuzzy pink slippers, and a red hoodie, but you recognize the bumpy skin that covers his face and hands. Which you can barely see because he is hiding behind another man where they stand in front of a dining room table. Red’s hands are on the shoulders of the man clad in flannel with rolled up sleeves and jeans that is scowling at you; his stance tense with his arms at his side.

You ignore Flannel in favor of looking at your soulmate, meeting his eyes over the shoulder of the other man.

“You are a fucking asshole Red.”

“Well done assessment there, Stab.”

“Stab?”

“Well you did almost stab me through the head before giving me your name, which, count yourself lucky cause I usually don’t put out if I don’t know what name to scream.”

“Wade, what-” Flannel starts, but you cut him off.

 “Oh, so that’s your name.” You offer up your own name. “Which you would have learned if you hadn’t run away like a fucking pussy.” Wade gasps.

“Excuse you, pussies are fucking strong as shit, they can-”

“Both of you, shut the fuck up.” Flannel barks out, shifting both of your attentions to him. “What the fuck is this?” He shakes Wade’s hands off his shoulders, taking a few steps so he’s more in the middle of the two of you. Which is not much space really, the apartment is not big, but at least it gets a little bit less full as Al leaves out the broken door, purse under her arm and muttering something you can’t hear or care to.

“Wade and I need to fucking talk. About how he is a fucking coward for fucking running.”

“I am not, just made a tactical retreat from an enemy!” Wade protests.

“We are a little past that, soulmate.” You drip venom in the last word, Flannel goes stock still as Wade draws in a sharp breath. Panic is sent through your link, which for some reason makes you angry.

“Just fucking come here.” You start to stride over towards Wade, who is frozen now. 

You don’t get past Flannel though, as he grabs you, spinning you quickly as he pins you against the dining room wall with a hand on your shoulder, metal glinting from between his knuckles as it extends and pushes against your throat, not breaking skin, but threatening to do so. 

On instinct you grab at his bare forearm, trying to pull the knives or whatever the fuck those are away from your throat, but now it’s your turn to freeze, as for the second time in as many days, you feel the sizzle in your mind of a new link forming.

What.

In.

The.

FUCK.

You look up at Flannel, startled and with your mouth hanging open. He’s frowning, tilts his head and then, slowly, his hand shifts from your shoulder to touch your neck, the closest piece of bare skin.

His eyes dilate, then he licks his lips, and you know he just felt the same thing as you did.

“What the fuck.” All three of you say in unison.

(Part 3)

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 04 | myg

part four: a wish

Summary: Were you about to go crazy if you started to consider that Yoongi felt something for you?

<part three | part five>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!

—words: 9.6k

—a/note: hiiii friends!!! i'm glad to say that it didn't take me six months to post this :D. I genuinely went through the most stressful two months of my life so I'm really proud that I could finish this chapter while trying to survive this thing called being an adult!! Anywayy, I’m excited for this chapter but I’m MORE EXCITED FOR THE NEXT ONE… 👀 so please have patience with this story!!! I promise it’s worth it hehehe. As always, you are more than invited to discuss this chapter in the asks, feedback is always welcomed <3 this one is very fluffy i hope you enjoy ittt. (Also if you read a typo, no you didn’t)

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

Were you too naive to still believe your father when he said that you were granted a wish every Christmas? He used to say that every year when he was still around and you were still a kid, when the clock struck twelve you could wish anything you wanted, as long as it wasn’t something material or more presents, you had to wish for something special, something that made you happy. 

The last Christmas before your father passed away you were seven years old and still believed in Santa Claus. That year, for some reason, your wish slipped your mind, you forgot about it completely. You stayed at your house, watched movies the whole day in your pajamas and at midnight your parents let both you and Simon open only one present before sending you to bed. You remembered how your father chased you to the stairs to tickle you until you cried of laughter and how good the cookies your mother made that night were, perhaps that year you were too happy to remember making a wish, perhaps what you had was enough. When you woke up the next morning, you were sad that you had wasted it, but your father, wise as ever, told you not to worry. He said that it was like you were saving your wish for the next year — maybe then it would be stronger, and maybe, since you waited, you would have a better chance of it coming true.

By the time Christmas came the following year your father was already gone, and with him all the magic of the world. You had to grow up, you stopped making wishes and tried to stop believing in stories, but it was difficult when his words were still at the back of your mind like some sort of tradition every holiday season. Despite knowing that magic didn’t exist and perhaps not a single wish of yours had ever come true, you still couldn't help but believe you still had your last wish, and everytime the idea of finally making it crossed your mind, you stopped to tell yourself you could still wait another year, just to be sure. 

That morning you saw Yoongi leaned over his car, adjusting his cap as he saw you walking over to him and you thought about your saved wish for the first time this year. And then again when he grabbed your hand to drag you out of the room, or when he waited for you at the bottom of the stairs before leaving the house, but you wouldn’t admit it, not even to yourself. 

He dragged you all across your grandmother’s hometown as if you didn’t know it like the palm of your hand, as if the streets weren’t filled with kids running and whole families doing last-minute gift shopping, but he didn’t seem to care, so for once, you didn’t let it annoy you either. You observed the happy families and the kids playing in the snow, and sat in the park for as long as the cold weather allowed.

It was like you entered a trance, you tried to fight the urge to snap out of the moment and talked and talked the whole afternoon about everything and nothing at the same time, Yoongi listened and laughed while playing with the ends of your hair, pushing you closer to the edge of illusion. If you weren’t so adamant to stay in that blurry haze, you would’ve done something to stop him, you would’ve push his hand away when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, you would’ve hated how easy it was for him to play dumb, how natural it was to touch you without feeling something was wrong. You ignored it instead, you ignored him and his wandering hands and the fact that he didn’t dare to mention the moment you shared in the closet, nor the way your noses brushed together, or how his fingers hugged your waist as if you weren’t just friends. Even if you would’ve died for him to say a word about it, to tease you, to attempt to make fun of you just to know that what happened was real and not something you dreamt last night.

If you were really dreaming, you held on to your sleep for a while. When Yoongi found that secondhand bookstore five blocks away from the park, he grabbed your hand when you ran across the street before the traffic lights turned green and stayed inside wandering the aisles with him, you let him lean over to whisper jokes in your ear and you punched his arms when he made you laugh a little bit too loud. You tried to keep your voices low and made a list of books to read the following year. You didn’t buy any of them but you read the prologues and the author’s biographies like it was the most interesting thing in the world. You waited for Yoongi when he started to talk with an old man about a book he needed for college and, when he felt you drifting away, he hooked one of his fingers on the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you close to him again. You felt his hands on your waist, keeping you pressed against the side of your body while he pretended to be focused on the conversation, but he was focused on something else. His long fingers played with the waistband of your jeans as your chest felt tight and your breath felt heavier. Maybe you were beginning to go insane, maybe you had a fever and everything was just a product of your imagination, but a tiny voice inside your head quietly suggested that maybe this time you weren’t insane, maybe it was just him.

It was getting dark outside, and you were supposed to be home anytime soon, but he turned his head to you and whispered in your ear that you should save a seat at the coffee shop next door and wait for him while he paid for the book. Even if it was cold and snowing neither of you wanted to return home yet, so you agreed. You made your way to the cute little coffee shop adorned with Christmas lights and sat on a table to wait for him to arrive at the table, until you saw him entering the shop with a book wrapped in brown wrapping paper in his hands. 

You observed him approaching with your face on the palms of your hands, you watched his eyes scanning the place until they found you in some poor illuminated corner. He smiled, his eyes never left yours as he made his way to your table, and when he sat in front of you, he slid the book towards you. 

“This is for you.” He simply said, crossing his arms over his chest like it was no big deal. 

You frowned, confused. Did Yoongi get you some lawyer book? You didn’t know, you grabbed the wrapped book in your hands and scanned it as if you were able to see through the envelope. “The book you needed for college?”

“It’s not that.” He huffed. “It’s a present.” 

You tried to bite back a smile, but you failed. “Is this your way to tell me you forgot to buy me a Christmas present?” You joked, making him roll his eyes. 

“C’mon, you know me.” He said “I would never give you a Christmas present before Christmas, are you crazy?”

You laughed “So is this not a Christmas present?” You inquired, teasing him. 

“It is a Christmas present, but not the Christmas present that I got for you.” He tried to clarify, and it sounded confusing but you understood him anyway. 

You nodded, tearing the wrapping paper to reveal that Yoongi just bought you an Anne Sexton poetry book, the title “Love Poems” shinned in red on the cover, making you hold your breath for a second. 

You raised your gaze from the book to find his eyes, which were looking at you expectantly, the same way someone looked at the moon, yearning. The same way you were looking at him. 

“How did you know…?” The question died in your lips.

“I just know.” He cheekily said, and that was enough.

You know me, he said, and you felt your heart aching when you realized that Yoongi knew you too, and it was becoming impossible to escape from it.

You spent these past weeks trying to make it disappear, but there it was again, that strange feeling you felt in your chest, like something tugged from a string tied to your heart to try and steal it away. You were sure Yoongi thought he had his ways with you, that he was some kind of genius that knew exactly what to say and what to do to erase the frown from your face and make you laugh, but the truth was that he didn’t need to do much effort to win you over, the truth was that he already had you. He had you then, and he had you now and you weren’t sure if that was ever going to change, but today you didn’t care, you let him walk you home as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like that warm wouldn’t chill you to the bone when he left. 

You had successfully gone through dinner without having to answer questions about college, or your future, or anything about yourself at all, part of it was because your grandmother didn’t ask any questions to begin with. Maybe you were a bit jealous that she seemed more interested in Eva, your cousin, who was a biochemist and just got engaged, or Aidan, your other cousin, who was just admitted into college, or even Yoongi, who was about to graduate, however, you felt relieved that the attention was not focused on you. You were used to your family thinking that you were a thirteen year old teenager and not a twenty one year adult, the attention was never really on you, sometimes it bounced on you accidentally like a ball and, from time to time, you got to share a glimpse of information about your life, but most of the time your mother answered for you as if you were a kid in the hospital room, trying to include you in conversations and talking about your own projects, and that was enough for everyone. 

In the past, your mother had sat you down several times to explain that your grandmother was never an easy woman, she reassured you that her judgmental behavior was a reflection of herself, not of you. She always offered to let you stay at home if you wanted to, but you refused only for the rest of the family, you could stand being with your grandmother if that meant being with the rest of them. And you learnt to endure it all: your grandmother’s judging look, all the talking about your cousin’s achievements, their goals, projects, flawless record, and the fact that everyone seemed to be finding their paths except for you. You had to learn to pretend you were happy for them and not jealous, you took several breaths and moved on, and for a while you thought that after two decades of your life you had finally mastered the art in not giving a fuck about what your family thought about you, until today when you ran to hide in the closet so they wouldn’t find you. 

You had to work on that, you knew that, but at least for now the blatant disinterest for your life spared you from having to explain your life crisis, at least Yoongi was by your side, redirecting attention to him and the real question everyone wanted to ask but no one dared, a question that eclipsed any other topic of conversation: what was happening between the two of you? 

You looked at him next to you, charming as ever, talking with your uncle across the table. He decided to put on his glasses, his cheeks were pink and the sleeves of his blue sweater were rolled up to his elbows, his arm was casually resting on the top rail of your chair and every time he made a joke he looked at you to check if you were laughing. Every attempt he made to try to make you part of the conversation made your heart swell, but you were more than happy just observing him blending into your family as if he were part of it; you wanted to be as clueless as everyone on the table and believe that Yoongi could be sitting next year at this very same table to be there for you, for a moment you allowed yourself to dream of a reality where he saved you from every family gathering like he was doing tonight.

From the tip of your nose to the tip of your toes you felt warm, almost as if you had a fever. It was probably because you were still wearing your black sweater inside the house or because the memory of the book Yoongi gave you kept your cheeks burning red, or maybe because when dinner was over and your family lingered over the table for the longest time they could, you saw Yoongi tilting his head towards the stairs, meaning it was time to go to bed. 

There was a couple differences between this weekend and the night Yoongi slept with you after coming back from The Alley, that night you wouldn’t have ask him to stay over if you were sober, and he most likely wouldn’t have stay if he wasn’t high, tonight you had to share the room, but it was impossible for you not to be dramatic and always make big deals out of small things. Unlike you, Yoongi didn’t flinch when you told him you were going to sleep in the same room, you failed to remember that you were the one who had a decade-long crush on him and not the other way around.

Now the house was quiet and everyone was scattered around the floors, your cousins were in the living room with your uncle, your grandmother was already in bed, your mom was in the kitchen washing the dishes and Yoongi was upstairs, waiting for you. Before going with him, you changed into your pajamas and went to the kitchen to steal a few cookies that your mother cooked for tomorrow morning. You could wait a few hours more to eat the cookies, but you were desperately trying to look for an excuse to prolong the moment you entered the room you were sharing with the man upstairs. 

You entered the kitchen, making your mother turn around from the sink to take a quick look at you before coming back to the dishes. “Are you already going to sleep?” She asked, a curious tone on her voice. 

“Yeah, but I wanted to grab a few cookies first, is that okay?” You inquired, already opening the cabinet above her head to grab a big plate.

“Just a few, remember they’re for everyone.” She warned, and you hummed in response, knowing that you were going to grab more than just a few. 

The room fell silent for a moment, you heard the water running and your dragging feet making their way to the cookies on the counter before she raised her voice again. “Are they for you and Yoongi?” 

You hummed again “Yes, just a few, I promise.” You said, grabbing what it seemed to be a whole batch of cookies to put on the plate. 

You tried to be quick, putting an extra cookie for the road between your teeth and turning around to escape from your mother before she could see you and scold you for stealing way too many cookies. Trying not to make any noise, as if that could make you invisible, you made your way towards the door to escape, but when you thought you were about to succeed, you heard the nickname your mom used for you from the corner of the room, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Wait, darling.” You heard her tone of voice, surprised that it wasn’t annoyed, but rather motherly. 

You turned around slowly with your guard up, as if in that way she wouldn’t notice the cookie between your teeth. You took it out of your mouth, hiding it behind your back.

“Yes?” You answered, remaining calm. You would not give yourself away when you already made this far. 

She closed the faucet, turning around to face you. Her eyes fell upon you, offering you an apologetic smile, which was weird, it was the kind of smile she gave you when she knew she was about to upset you. It wasn’t the kind of face someone who was about to scold you would make, she looked hesitant, almost worried. 

“I wanted to-... I mean, I wanted to ask you about something.” She said, stumbling with her own words. Her eyes were not focused on the plate on your hands, not even in your face completely, like she was trying to avoid your eyes. You felt a rush of nervousness running down your body and quickly dissipating, you didn’t know why. 

“About what?” You inquired, wiping the crumbs from your mouth. 

She sighed, playing with the towel in her hands to keep her hands busy. “I know you don’t want me to be all over your business, and I’m aware you are not a teenager anymore, but I can’t help worrying a little bit.” She explained, or at least she tried.

You frowned, more confused than ever. The conversation seemed to be taking a completely different path than you thought five seconds ago. 

“What do you mean, mom?” You said, taking a step forward, what did this have to do with the cookies?

Your mom pursed her lips, hesitating for a microsecond until the words finally came out of her mouth. “You are already a woman, darling, so I wanted to know if you are… cautious.” She pronounced, making emphasis on the last word and letting it sink in the air, but you still didn’t understand what she was talking about. 

“Cautious with what?” You must've looked like a total fool, asking once again what she meant, but your mother seemed to want you to understand without having to explain. 

She shifted in her place and you saw a flash of embarrassment in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “With Yoongi, I mean.” She said, making the name resonate in your ears “I know you’re both adults and you can do whatever you want, but I wanted to make sure that you are using protection.”

The realization fell upon you like a ton of bricks, each word she uttered felt like a different punch to your stomach. You opened your eyes widely, almost choking with your own spit.  “What? No, mom-” You wanted to interrupt her, but she was quick to talk over you. 

“I just want to make sure!” She said like she was apologizing “I don’t mean to be invasive, but it’s important to me that you’re being safe.”

You winced, feeling your face burning as you began stuttering “Me and Yoongi…-We are not, I mean-”

“Honey,” She stopped you, looking at you like she was a sex education teacher trying to explain why you should use protection. “I was not born yesterday, I see things happening, and believe me, I have no problem with you sharing a room, but I can’t help but ask.”

You were left completely speechless, and her constant interruptions while you were trying to finish a sentence were not helping. You racked your brain to find a logical explanation, but you were incapable of forming a decent sentence when she was looking at you like she was a doctor. The fact that your mother thought that you and Yoongi were having sex made your stomach squirm, and how she stated that it was obvious left your head spinning. Did she see you today in that closet and immediately assumed you were… fucking? God, that sounded so bad, so incredibly embarrassing. You still felt yourself blushing when you thought about that moment, you couldn’t even fathom the idea of seeing him without a shirt, less alone having sex with him.

“Mom, please. You don’t have to worry, really.” You tried to explain, but that was not enough to leave your mother content, by the look on her face you knew she didn’t believe you one bit. 

“I know I don’t have to worry!” She defended herself “Yoongi is a great boy, and I trust you… But you know, if things get a bit too frisky...” 

You closed your eyes shut, trying not to picture that in your mind, “God, mom, don’t use that word!” 

“Sorry! I mean… You know what I mean! I hope you’re using protection, no matter the circumstances.” 

You took a deep breath, ninety percent sure you were about to die of embarrassment, but with your last breath you made sure to be clear with your mom so tonight she would sleep peacefully “Believe me, mom. You don’t have to worry, nothing happened between Yoongi and me, I mean it.”

You could see it in her eyes, she was not convinced, and she was right to be so. That was a lie, and she knew it. What happened today was not “nothing”, and your mother knowing that only made your cheeks burn.

“Fine.” She said, struggling to let the conversation go “But if something does happen… Be safe, okay?”

You nodded repeatedly, trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. “Yes, of course.” You promised, but the idea of that ever happening sent a chill down your spine, you tried to shake that thought as far away as you possibly could. 

Your mom smiled and you took it as your cue to go. You tried to walk away, but before you reached the door, she spoke again. 

“And darling?” She said, making you turn around to see her. “I know you don’t like coming here without your brother, so thank you for coming anyway.”

“It’s fine, mom.” You said, and it was true. “At least Yoongi made up for it.”

She smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, in disbelief. “Yup, I’m going now, goodnight!” You said, finally escaping from the conversation. You heard your mom’s laugh in the distance as you closed the door behind you to run upstairs. 

Present

When you visited Simon’s apartment for the first time you could clearly notice it was a boy’s apartment from the lack of decoration, the lack of food in the fridge and the amount of boxes still unpacked weeks after moving in, but after you entered through the door tonight you saw a completely different version of it. It was a part of him that you missed out when you were gone, now there were plants on the living room and traces of Florence all over the place, like her purple slippers on the door and the purple toothbrush on the bathroom, her scrunchies on the entryway table and the framed picture of her beside them. You found it endearing, it was like a secret world made just for the two of them, a proper home. 

“When is Florence coming back?” You asked, leaving your bag on the couch. 

Simon took off his shoes, wandering through his house as he turned all the lights on “On Monday.” He replied.

You made a mental note to leave on Monday, even if Simon repeated a thousand times that it was okay for you to stay there on the way here, you didn’t want to intrude in his life. Instead you decided it would be easier to intrude in Minnie’s life, who’s apartment was big enough for the two of you, the only person she shared her apartment with was not an actual person, it was just her orange cat. 

 “I was supposed to go with her.” Your brother kept talking “But me and Yoongi are behind on some work and I had to stay… Well, I’m the one who’s behind, really. Yoongi is just helping me.”

You did not forget that Simon and Yoongi worked together at the same law firm downtown ever since they graduated. You knew that Yoongi got the job as soon as he graduated and then he was followed by your brother, after years it was still impossible to keep them apart, which had become a problem for you. 

You nodded but didn’t say anything about it, you reasoned that Yoongi was still working before arriving at your house, that explained the clothes, the shoes and the messy hair. You sighed just by thinking about it, at least dinner was over, at least your first encounter with Yoongi after four years wasn’t the worst thing that happened tonight. 

It was impossible, but you tried not to think about it too much. Yoongi’s presence was some kind of collateral effect that came with your life, it was too late to detach him from it, but you still tried to run away from it for years and years, only to come back and still find him here, talking to you like nothing ever happened, like you were still friends. 

Yoongi and you were always on different stages of your life, on different places, on different paths, but you seemed to agree on one thing: keep everything secret, no one needed to know what happened between the two of you, that was why Simon was always talking about Yoongi when you called him, that was why he couldn’t stop talking about it him now, he didn’t realize that you didn’t want to know anything about his best friend, you could never told him why.

You followed your brother to his guest room as he talked and talked about how smart Yoongi was and how he was capable of taking so many different cases and not dying in the process, how nice it was to work with his best friend and blablabla. You swore that if you heard the name one more time you would explode, so you decided to drastically change the subject of the conversation, you were willing to say anything to take his name out of your brother’s mouth. It took a second, but when the room fell silent, you looked at your feet, a bit unsure, gathering enough courage to finally say what you’ve been meaning to tell him since you arrived home.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about the proposal.” You softly spoke, and Simon, who was looking for a blanket in the closet in the corner of the room, turned his head to look at you. “I wanted to tell you in person, but I wasn’t planning for that article to come out, I didn’t want the whole world to know.”

Simon left the blanket on the bed, turning his body to look at you more clearly. “Mom told me that you think Ian leaked the news” He mentioned, and you nodded, at the risk of looking crazy. 

“Sally suggested it.” You confirmed, sitting on the bed “And if he didn’t, he’s fine with it anyway. He doesn’t care if people see me as this bitch who broke his heart, I might as well be.” 

He looked at the wall behind you, confused. “I think I missed a chapter here.” He said, sitting on the edge of the bed “Maybe more than one. Weren’t you in love with him?”

You wanted to grab a pillow, bury your face on it and scream as loud as you could, but for the sake of looking like a sane person you contained yourself. “I thought I was.” You said sincerely. you believed there was a time when you were sure you were in love with Ian, there were moments you thought that the good things about him could outweigh the bad things, but deep down you knew that if you were really in love you wouldn’t have to do all that math, you wouldn’t have to fight to ignore his arrogance and his big ego. 

“And when did you realize that you weren’t?” He continued to ask “Or when did you realize he was a jerk?”

You scoffed, bitterly. “I guess I always knew both, I tried to make it work regardless. I enjoyed being with him for some time, but then he planned an engagement party full of people I didn’t even know. He didn’t care to call any of you and expected me to say yes… Does that say more about him or me?”

He kept quiet, not knowing what to say, but you already knew the answer. 

“Ian was an asshole, kid. He was jealous of you, of your family, of your job, none of us understood why you were with him.” 

“That was not what I asked.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Ian was a prick, I get it, but I wasn’t much better either.”

“You can’t make me think you deserve each other, are you kidding?” He said. 

“I can’t blame him for everything, I made my own bed.” You huffed “I was terrible and it took me almost four years to snap out of it, that was not his fault.” 

“You are right, but you’re here now, aren’t you?” He reminded you, calmly. “Isn’t that what’s important?” 

You began to become exasperated “C’mon, Simon, don’t try to be nice, you’re supposed to be mad at me.” 

“I am mad at you.” He corrected you, sending a chill down your spine “You’re working all the time, you never call, never text back, we barely see you and the only way to know about your life is when we read some article saying you broke up with your boyfriend because he proposed to you, are you kidding? Of course I am mad, but because I miss you.”

You felt a wave of regret hitting all your senses, suddenly your eyes were burning with tears and you are not supposed to cry, you knew that, but the single tear that slid down your cheek was quicker than any thought that could cross your mind. Somehow, you wished your family hadn't noticed how absent you'd been these past few years, that they just shrugged and said “that’s just her” and forgot about it, it was not necessary to look at Simon’s face to know that he couldn’t just forget about it. He loved you, your mother loved you too, you didn’t have a family that you would want to run away from, but you did it anyway,

“I’m sorry…” You murmured, looking at him with eyes full of regret. “It wasn’t you, it wasn’t any of you, it was me. I was so angry when I left, I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You wouldn’t trade your career for anything, it was one of those few things that made you happy, but after years of trying to convince yourself that every decision you made for the last few years was the right choice, this was the first time that you admitted that maybe you weren’t thinking clearly when you decided to move to the city and never look back. 

Simon frowned, thinking about it twice before asking “Were you angry, bug?”

You tilted your head, giving him a sad smile, hoping that it could explain everything.”I was quite angry, yes.” You answered “Not at you, though.” 

“At mom?” 

“Maybe a little bit at mom, yeah.” You laughed, shaking your head. You sighed deeply, letting the silence sit in the room for a moment before you could put in order all the things you wanted to say. “I remember when I told her I left college she looked at me like I finally lost my mind, it was like she saw it coming, you know? Me, again, being lost, it was not a surprise, but rather something she would expect of me. I know she was just worried and I know I can be a lot sometimes, but it hurt anyway. I don't blame anyone, Simon, but all I needed was someone to believe in me and no one did. I had to leave.” Something ached inside your chest because that was not the whole truth, but it was all you could say tonight, you couldn’t say that Yoongi was also one of the reasons. “I’m not trying to justify myself.” You mumbled “I’m just saying that I was so angry that I didn’t realize how many mistakes I made.” 

The silence that took over the room was so strong it made your stomach squirm. You shifted in your place, but Simon stayed there, with his gaze lost somewhere in the room as he processed what you just said. 

“I always believed in you, you know that?” He spoke, causing your head to snap up towards him. “I know a lot of people tried to tell you that you weren’t, but you’ve always been special and I’ve always seen it.” 

“I know you did.” You sighed. “But I was being so stubborn, I walked away and I’m so sorry.”

“I know you think you’re too much, but you’re not.” He continued talking “Maybe mom just wanted everything to be simple, for her kids to go to college, graduate, get a job and a home and never have to worry about whether they are choosing right or wrong ever again. But you’re not simple, bug, you’re extraordinary and talented and too brilliant to stay still, but you’re not too much, not for me.” 

You held back a sob, feeling ridiculous. “I’m sorry.” You said, once again, because you haven’t said it enough times.

“It’s okay now, I mean it.” Simon reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly. 

You sniffed “God, I should be comforting you for being a bad sister, not the other way around” 

“I don’t need to be comforted, I’m okay as long as you’re here.” He tried to cheer you up. “And you were not a bad sister, you were sad and acted shitty.” 

You smiled, because you told Simon that you were angry but instead he heard that you were sad, you didn’t feel like correcting him because he wasn’t so wrong about that. 

“I’m sorry.” You repeated once again like a scratched record, making him laugh. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No.” he replied, “But only if you promise not to disappear again.” 

You raised your hand, extending your pinky finger in front of his face. “I promise you, Simon, I will not disappear again.”

Simon tangled his pinky with yours, making your promise impossible to be broken, and your soul felt at ease for a moment.

“Fine, good enough for me.” he said, throwing himself back onto the bed. “Now I want to hear everything about the proposal, and I want you to describe to me exactly the face he made when you said no.”

You laughed, throwing yourself on the bed the same way he did and tried to summarize the last three years in just one night. Only for today, your body did you a favor and your head stopped spinning at least for now. Something began to feel right.

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

You could hear the radio at the end of the hallway in your grandmother’s room, softly playing jazz to cancel out the outside noise. Not everyone in the house liked the radio, your cousins always said that it was annoying and kept them awake, but it was still one of those old habits of your grandfather that remained in the house even if he was no longer here, so you liked it. The music inevitably seeped under the door of your room, Yoongi hummed some Frank Sinatra song as if he knew the lyrics to it, making you laugh and beg him to stop. 

You know it’s almost midnight, as your roommate just informed you, but you didn’t want to turn the lights off yet. All of the cookies already disappeared from the plate, Yoongi was laying on his side the same way you were and the lamp on the nightstand warmly lighted up his brown eyes, you couldn’t help but feel you were not supposed to be in such presence, his messy hair and the loose white shirt he wore to sleep, his sleepy eyes, his pink lips; it looked just like the kind of view that was bound to haunt you forever. 

The nightstand that separated you was not far enough to stop that pull from the string in your chest, not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze fixated on yours like he didn’t want to leave you awake alone, and neither did you. You felt yourself shaking because, what was the version of you that existed when you were asleep? And what happened inside his head when you were not there? What was happening inside his head right now?

Did you cross his mind the same way he crossed yours? When you finally fell asleep, would he remember that moment in the closet or would it be just water under the bridge? Did he spend every waking second of the last seven hours thinking of that fleeting moment when you could almost feel his lips on yours?

Or was that just you?

The night was fading away, your eyelids were getting heavy but you still couldn’t find the will to sleep. 

“I’m sorry for today.” You almost whispered, gathering enough courage to mention the little accident “I’m sorry for dragging you with me to the closet.”  

He smiled softly, closing his eyes for a second. “It’s okay, it was cozy.” He teased you, making you groan in annoyance. He laughed loudly at your reaction, annoying you even more. “I’m serious, it was okay.” 

“Was it really?” You asked him “Wasn’t I being silly?”

“It's okay being silly sometimes.” He assured you, but that did not ease that anxious feeling in your stomach. He seemed to see it in your face. “What’s wrong with being a little silly? I would’ve run from your grandmother, too.” 

You bitterly laughed, covering your face with the palms of your hands “Stop, I’m being immature.” You groaned “I’ve got to get my shit together.”

“C’mon Pinky, you have to stop with that.” He said. 

“I would if I could.” You remarked.

“Didn’t you say you were going to get your shit together after the holidays?” He reminded you “Why are you worrying right now?”

Yoongi was right, that was the initial plan, but ever since you came back home everything was pointing in different directions and it was beginning to drive you crazy, it was like the universe was forcing you to think about it, it was not letting you run away from it, not even temporarily. First, it was Yoongi, showing up every few days at your doorstep, grabbing your hand, squeezing your legs, whispering things in your ear like he wanted you to go insane, it was Minnie, offering you a job, talking about The Alley, saying you were supposed to be on the big screen, and then it was your mother, expecting you to make up your mind once for all. And still, you had your whole life ahead, why were you worrying right now?

“I don’t know…” You sighed “What if I come back next year and the plan was not good enough? What if I end up hiding again from everyone?”

Yoongi shifted in bed, curious “Do you have a plan, Pinky?” The nickname rolled off his tongue softly, you swimmed in the tenderness of his voice, something about it made you want to tell him everything.

“Not really, I mean… It all sounds so bad.” 

“You have a plan.” He affirmed, smiling “I want to hear it.”

“It’s not a plan.” You contradicted yourself “If it were a plan, it would suck.”

Yoongi hummed “It’s something like a plan, then.”

You scrunched your nose, unsure. “Yeah, but not quite like a plan, something like a…” You said, but the words died on your lips before you got the chance to finish. 

“Something like a dream, then?” He continued to ask, but you shook your head.

“Something close.” You expressed, unable to find the right words to explain your thoughts. You stayed silent for a second, believing he was beginning to lose interest in the topic, until the words slipped past his lips like a spell.

“Something like a wish.” He pronounced, and he was not asking, it was almost like he knew. 

You thought there was not much difference between a dream and a wish, but in this case, there was. 

You smiled at him, nodding, somehow you felt you could trust him with all your secrets “Yes, like a wish.” You affirmed, and it felt like a confession. “I don’t know Yoongi, have you ever stayed up late and planned something but when you woke up next morning you felt it was stupid? Well, I do that every night.”

“I’m sure that whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” He said, making your heart swell.  

“I would like to believe you…” You murmured “Do you have a dream, Yoongi? Something you’re too scared to wish for?”

You could see him think about it for a moment, but his eyes were still connected with yours. Oh, how you wished to be inside his mind right now, read his thoughts, witness his dreams, know all his secrets.

“Yes.” He confirmed, “But I can’t talk about them out loud right now.” 

You laughed, biting your bottom lip. “Okay, fair. What about those you can say out loud?”

“I’m not going to tell you because you’re going to laugh.” He pouted, making you frown. 

“Laugh?” You repeated, sounding more offended than you actually were. “I would never, c’mon.”

He raised an eyebrow, testing you “You sure?”

“Of course, don’t piss me off.” 

“Fine, fine.” He let out a long sigh, believing you. “My wish would be… to stop time for a while. Sometimes I believe I can’t think when time’s running, all I do is study and come home to my mom, there is very little time that I have for myself.”  

You felt your chest tighten, but it didn't surprise you that Yoongi felt this way. He already mentioned to you that, even if taking care of his mother didn’t feel like a burden, he still felt he was missing out on so many things. 

“And what would you do if time stopped right now?” 

Yoongi shifted his eyes for a moment, and you almost missed it but you saw it, the urge to hold back and the words getting stuck on his throat. 

“Mmm…” He hummed, “I’ll go to the beach.”

“In winter?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t care.”

“And where else?” You continued to ask.

“Honestly? I’ll go anywhere but home.” He confessed.

“What’s wrong with home?” You of all people knew exactly what was wrong with home, but you wanted to hear why he thought that. 

“Home it’s okay,” He waved off. “It just feels like I spent my whole life there. I went to college expecting something to change, and a lot of things did but I still feel like something else is supposed to happen, like there's something else for me to see.” 

It was looking in a mirror, it was the same thing you’ve told him a few days ago but in other words, in another tone. Yoongi sounded resigned, like his wish was clearly something that was not meant to happen and he needed to come to terms with it, nothing could ever make you more sad. 

“There’s plenty for you to see, Yoongi, are you kidding?” You chuckled  “You’re twenty five, you’re barely grasping life.” 

He scoffed, bitterly, “It’s not that easy.” 

“Of course it is easy, do you know it’s not necessary to stop time to go to the beach?” 

“I know, Pinky.” He agreed, “But what does it feel like running away?” 

“Running away would be so bad?” You asked, hearing the question echoing in the room, letting you know that maybe it was something you weren’t supposed to wonder out loud. Yoongi didn’t dare to ask such a question, but you seemed determined to make his wish come true, maybe you were the only one who could do it. 

“Don’t ask me.” He said, looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.  “Don’t act like running away isn’t your wish as well” 

You snorted, immediately grabbing a pillow and threatening to punch him in the face with it, but Yoongi is quick to cover his face with his arms.

“Don’t!” He protested, laughing.

 “Don’t expose me like that!” You whined, embarrassed. 

“What, am I wrong?” 

“Maybe you’re not…” You dared to answer, leaving the pillow on the bed again “But how do you know?”

“I told you, Pinky.” He murmured “I just know.”

You shook your head in denial, how could it be? Were you really that transparent or Yoongi really just knew? 

“What else do you know?” You continued to ask, curious. 

He pretended to think about it, pouting his lips and looking at the ceiling as if the answers were to fall from the sky. His eyes shifted towards yours, tilting his head “I know that you would run away to the beach with me if I asked you to.” 

A giggle was built in your throat, you laughed nervously as you tried to decipher if he was joking or not, even if Yoongi could see right through you, it was a bit difficult for you to do the same with him. 

“I don’t know about that.” You said, ignoring the way your heart was beating against your ribcage. “Do you mean in… an hypothetical scenario?” 

“It’s a hypothetical proposal.” He answered.

“I’ll have to check my schedule first.” 

A smirk tugged from the corner of his lips. “What about… two weeks away from now?”

You did the calculation in your head, but you already knew that by then Yoongi would have to go back to class, so you doubted. “What about the semester?” You asked, trying to be the voice of reason. “Your last semester, might I add.”

“That could wait.” He did not hesitate “Isn’t it part of running away? Leaving things behind?”

You laughed “And what would people say about me, then? That I made you leave college, nuh-hu.” 

“Here we go again with that.” He rolled his eyes “I don’t care what people say and, besides, I’m not leaving college, I’m… postponing it.” 

That didn’t sound like the Yoongi you knew at all, but then again, this whole conversation didn’t sound like anything Yoongi from the past would say. A thousand questions crossed your mind, like what do you do on the beach in winter? Wouldn’t being alone be a problem? What are you going to talk about, where are you going to stay? If you say yes, would he grab your hand when you crossed the street, would he try to kiss you again? 

You crossed your arms, thinking about it, not daring to agree right away, but how could you say no? When he was looking at you, convinced that you would say yes. 

You opened your mouth, not sure what you were going to say but still ready to answer, and before you could utter a word, he interrupted you. “Run away with me to the beach, Pinky.” He asked in a soft tone, looking at you with warm eyes and warm words, making your heart shake violently in your chest “Only for now, I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

You smiled, ignoring that little person inside you that tried to warn you about something, but you weren’t sure about what because all you could feel was your heart racing. “Fine, I’ll follow you for now.” You simply said, trying to sound as cool as possible “Let’s run.” 

In that moment you forgot about years and years of disappointment and failed dreams, failed wishes, you ignored the reality, deciding everything was false and true at the same time. You didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was midnight, something inside your chest sparkled and told you it was time to make your wish, and for some reason, you listened. It echoed in every corner of your mind, your wish was the beach in winter. 

Four days before New Year’s Eve

Two weeks ago, when you bought Yoongi’s Christmas gift, you thought about it like a farewell. You stood in the shop and talked to the tall man with the long face and chose the gift as you tried to convince yourself this was a way of saying goodbye to him. 

That Christmas morning Yoongi tore the brown wrapping paper and opened the long box to find that you decided to give him a red tie. It wasn’t bright red, it was deep dark red, red like a rose. It came with a notebook and a pen with his initials on them. In your mind, you were giving away that version of him that lived in your head and clung to your thoughts and clung to your heart, that version of him you could never let go. Yoongi was about to graduate, he was about to become officially a lawyer, an adult, a man, he wasn’t that boy you fell in love with years ago, he was a wish you had to let in the past and your gift was just a way to remind you of it. You had a purpose, a plan, you had everything figured out until he decided to ask you to run away with him, until you said yes.

His gifts for you were a vinyl copy of Is This It by The Strokes, two tickets to watch When Harry Met Sally at the Alley the following week and a pair of red gloves for the rest of the winter. 

Yoongi looked at you and smiled like you both knew something everyone else in the room didn’t. “The gloves match with the tie.” He had said.

So now you had no plan, what you did have though, was a bunch of pictures of several locations Yoongi thought of booking for your trip to the beach. You were doomed. 

You thought the only person in this town who could possibly understand what you were going through was Minnie, the only person in the world who knew about your feelings for Yoongi, and the only person who you could call a friend at the moment. 

You weren’t expecting to see Minnie again when you saw her at The Alley a few weeks ago, but she had different plans; it was like she forced you to be her friend again. You tried to stop thinking you didn’t deserve it, you had to swallow your guilt and accept her friendship, and after a few five hour calls filled with gossip, you ultimately decided not to be against it, even if she called you everyday and still talked nonstop about that audition in the city, talking with her felt like you were still fifteen, and you liked it.

That night, as she raided her closet looking for a dress for you to wear at the New Year’s party at The Alley, you sat on her bed and gave her a run down of everything that happened with Yoongi since you came back home, it didn’t take her much to get you to admit that you were still in love with your brother’s best friend, so you might as well be honest and tell her everything. 

“You’re being stupid right now, sweetheart.” You heard her muffled voice from inside her closet. The next thing you saw was a piece of fabric flying in the air and landing at your feet. You grabbed it, putting in front of you to reveal a short pink dress that you would never, ever wear. 

You snorted, leaving the dress on the pile of clothes that you already rejected. You seemed to forget that Minnie was not the most adequate person to talk about “boy stuff”, perhaps because she was way too honest. You didn’t know whether it was a mistake or not to tell her about the trip to the beach, because all the questions she was asking and all the things she was stating to be true were thoughts you were desperately trying to avoid. 

“He wants to fuck you, I don’t know how else to tell you this.” She said, walking over the clothes to make her way to you. You threw yourself on the bed, covering your face with your palms “I mean, I wish I could only tell you that he’s head over heels for you, and honey, that he is, but he also wants to fuck you.”

You groaned, kicking your feet. “God, you make me want to throw up.”

“Of excitement, I’m assuming.” She affirmed “I’m telling you, there’s no way you’re going on a trip alone and come back without having fucked.”

You looked at her, begging her to stop talking, but she was not finished. “Stop!”

“Picture this.” She ignored you, forming a rectangle with her fingers and looking right through it as if she was directing a scene from a movie “First scenario, a storm causes the power to go out, there’s no electricity, you have no way to be warm so you sleep in the same bed to warm up, there’s tension, you look at each other and kiss, you fuck.”

“Okay, I don’t see that happening.” You shook your head. 

“Second scenario, you just finished showering, you go out of the bathroom wearing only a towel because you think he’s not there, but he is! He sees you, you kiss, you fuck.”

“That’s not… That sounds like porn.” 

“Third scenario!” She exclaimed. 

“Fine, that’s enough.” You stopped her, waving your arms in the air. 

“No, you have to prepare! And when it happens you will know that I was right.” Your friend insisted, but you refused to let any of those ideas in your mind. 

“What if you’re not?” You wondered “What if he just wants to be my friend and I’m just imagining everything?”

“But you are not, are you kidding?” She laughed “That man is clearly in love with you, why are you convincing yourself otherwise?”

You felt Minnie’s body sitting right next to you, causing you to sit back on the bed to look at her face to face. You were sure you were about to start crying out of frustration. “I don’t know, what if I get hurt?”

Minnie pursed her lips “Baby, I can’t answer that question at all, but you have to take the chance.” 

You groaned, annoyed. “I don’t want to take the chance.” You whined “I was fine before seeing him again, I wasn’t even thinking of him.”

“That is a lie,” She laughed, mocking you. “We both know you never stopped being in love with him, now you have him in the palm of your hand, do something.” 

Minnie stood up again, looking for another piece of clothing on the floor as you kept silent, wondering if any of that could be possible. Did you really have him in the palm of your hand? Was he in love with you and you were being stupid for believing that he wanted to be just friends?

“What should I do?” You asked her, hoping that the redhead in the room knew all the secrets of the universe. 

“Invite him to the New Year’s party and wear a hot outfit, how about that?” Minnie offered, like that could answer all your prayers. 

“Would that resolve all my problems?” You joked, talking to the sky. 

“C’mon, he literally asked you to run away with him, don’t you find that a little bit hot? Don’t you really think that was not code for ‘I want to fuck you’?” 

You laughed “Yoongi is not like that!” You protested. 

“I hate to break it to you, but you are hot.” She insisted, throwing another piece of clothing at your face. “And if Yoongi is not blind, he knows that, and let’s not forget the most important fact here.” 

“Which is…?”

“He’s in love with you, let’s start wrapping our heads around that.” She simply said “Once that’s done, you invite him to the New Year’s eve party at The Alley, you wear a hot outfit and confront him about it, tell him to stop playing around.”

You grabbed the dress Minnie just threw at you, which was another short dress, but this one was actually cute. It was black and was covered in black sparkly sequins with thin straps, you were definitely going to freeze to death if you wore that, but you were sure this fitted the description of “hot outfit”. 

Minnie was right, you couldn’t keep running away from the facts, everything was laid on the table, you didn’t need more proof to know that Yoongi felt something for you, even if you weren’t sure if it was the same that you felt for him, you needed to gather enough courage to find out what it was. 

You grabbed the phone in your pocket and opened Yoongi’s chat, you decided to invite him to the New Year’s party. 

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater

[kadwrites]

young love | T.S

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or check out the series masterlist

summary ; a person from your past makes an appearance.

warnings ; arranged marriage!trope , fem!reader , idk what the hell is happening , SLOW burn

a/n ; i promise that i have a plot but i keep getting side tracked????

-

"what the fuck are ya doing here?" you pull the front door shut

"hello to ya too."

you look at him again , brows raised "what brought ya here hmm?"

"ya didn't even invite me to your engagement party." he looks down at you, his voice teasing

"oh i'm sorry" you let out a small outraged laugh "i didn't know that inviting your ex boyfriend was an engagement tradition."

"aren't ya glad to see me?" he gives you a sly smile

"what brought ya here?" you grit your teeth , looking up at him

"i came here for ya."

"for me?"

"to save ya."

"from what?" your patience is thinning

"well i couldn't let ya get married to someone like 'im could i?" he chuckles "not after the love we had for eachother."

"jeremy." you pinch the bridge of your nose "that was years ago," you try to not raise your voice "do ya even know who i'm marrying?"

"oh i do."

"ya do?" you laugh "and ya thought trying to convince his fiancée to run away is a good idea?"

"you're making a mistake."

you just look up at him, laughing. "jeremy, ya slept with your sister in law, i don't think you're qualified to give me any kind of guidance."

"i'm a changed man" he leans down to whisper to you

"no you're not!" you let out an angry breath , trying to compose yourself "what do ya think tommy shelby would do if he found out you're here? hmm?" you hiss at him

"i love ya." he looks at you, his eyes bore into yours , inching closer

"oh my god" you put a hand over your face, turning,

"i do, i can't let ya go" he hand touches your arm

"oh my fucking god!" your voice becomes high pitched , your eyes opened wide "why are ya still talking? do ya want to get killed?" you whisper angrily, keeping your voice down

"i can't let ya do this" he begs , he pleads

"yes ya can, ya just walk away" your hands wave at the door

"did ya not hear what 'appened to his first wife?" his nostrils flare in frustration

your jaw slacks , you feel as if your eyes would bulge out of their sockets

"do ya know what would 'appen to ya if he heard ya say this?" your voice is low.

he closes his eyes, licking his lips before speaking "look..."

"no" you raise a hand , stopping him before he could get another word in "i don't particularly like ya, but i'm telling ya this as a favor for old times sake" you point at the door "leave , and never come back"

"i'm not leaving ya."

"this isn't a joke, jeremy" you can't help the angry chuckles that keep coming out of you "this is probably the stupidest decision you've ever made."

"do ya want to marry 'im?" his eyes scan your face, studying you

"this is none of your concern." infuriated wouldn't even begin to describe what you felt, "what i do with my life is none of your fucking concern"

"i know ya , this is not something ya would do."

"ya said it yourself, you're a changed man now" you try to explain, "we're different, ya and i are so different now, we are not the same kids we used to be. this isn't what it used to be."

he doesn't say anything else in return, he walks out, shutting the door loudly behind him

you have a hand over your forehead , pacing around the living room, renee is still in her place, watching.

"you brought him here didn't you?" your mother stood in the living room with her hand on her hips, looking you up and down

"mum ... please stop." you stop in your tracks , frustrated "how would i bring 'im here? with telekinesis? i didn't even know he still lives in birmingham for fuck's sake."

she comes closer , gabbing your shoulders "we need to forget this, never speak of it in front of tommy"

"what if he comes back again?" you start to panic "what if he does something worse than this?"

she closes her eyes at the possibility, she doesn't answer.

"this is just what i fucking needed" you turn, plopping down on the sofa

"jeremy is a sweet boy... he wouldn't do anything, would he?" your mum picks at her cuticles nervously ,

you look up with a raised brow "he fucked his brother's wife while we were dating, his brother who by the way raised 'im." you rub at your temple "his moral compass is as useless as that brain of his."

"god, now i know why i always hated him."

"and yet ya wanted us to get married at 17."

"well i didn't want him to knock you up."

"so ya tried to talk me into marrying 'im?" your mother's logic made your head spin faster than it already was "ya know what, forget i asked that" you wave a hand

"what are ya going to do now?" renee finally speaks,

you and your mother look at each other, before looking at renee

"i don't know.." you mumble "i 'ave to go see 'im today, to talk about the wedding venues" you groan, the stress of it all comes back to her

"okay" renee gets up, and sits next to you "ya just act normal, ya get this done, ya forget about it for today and then tomorrow ya try thinking about solutions."

you smile when you step into his office, your hands clasped in front of you, and he's on his chair, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"why do ya look like that?"

"like what?"

"ya're too happy to see me."

you raise a brow "ya don't want me smiling at ya?"

"ya look possessed." he deadpanned, exhaling a cloud of smoke, his thumb scratching lightly at his lips, hiding his smile

you kiss your teeth, "i hope ya choke in your sleep." you walk up the chair and sit down

he chuckles, looking at you with his head tilted slightly "you'll miss me?"

"believe me , i won't."

"what's wrong?"

your brows pinch together "nothing is wrong"

"really?"

"yes."

"you're a very bad liar."

"i'm just ... tired" you shrugged, your voice squeaked

it's not that you're not used to lying, it's that you have a hard time lying to him

"how's your mum?"

a genuine amused smile pains over your lips, "she's good"

"who told ya?" he nods at you

"who told me what?"

"that i talked with your mother" he continues "was it your two nosy friends?"

"hey hey hey" you put a hand up "don't insult my friends"

"they are nosy, it's the truth"

-

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[tongue-like-a-razor]

Brother's Best Friend - Part 6

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who has sent in thoughts and ideas for this fic! It's so fun writing it in your vision :D Y'all are really good at this plot thing XD

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: Intoxication, swearing, slow burn, angsty but also a fluff factory

WC: 2000+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Masterlist

“Can you please stop swerving?” you whimper, clapping a hand to your already throbbing head.

“It’s called turning,” Jake responds sarcastically.

You stare ahead impassively. “You’re doing it a lot.”

Jake looks over at you with an amused grin. “You are phenomenal company, have I ever told you that?”

You eye him with contempt. “Shut up, Seresin.”

He laughs. “I’m not joking.”

“Whatever,” you say. “Make fun of me all you want. I’m not going to remember anything tomorrow, anyway.”

Jake considers your words for a moment. “You think?”

You close your eyes. “Who knows if I’ll even wake up.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

Suddenly, you jolt upright in your seat. “Pull over!” you command. “Pull over right now.”

Jake hits the breaks and veers to the side of the road and you’re pushing your door open before he even comes to a complete stop. You detangle yourself with some difficulty from the seatbelt and stumble out of the car. You’re barely out of the vehicle when you start puking all over somebody’s neatly trimmed lawn.

Jake jogs around the car to get to you, but you stretch your arm out to keep him back. He ignores your silent request and comes up behind you, grasping your shoulders tightly. “Go away, Jake,” you say in a shaky voice, feeling the onset of yet another attack.

Jake rubs your back gently while you liberate the remainder of your stomach contents. “Shh,” he says quietly. “Just let it out.”

When you’re finished, you pull away from Jake, teetering as you go. You bury your face in your hands, leaning into the side of his car with your hip, completely mortified.

“Hey,” Jake says. “You alright?”

You wipe at your face, nodding, and look up at him despite the sting behind your eyes.

“Woah, hey,” he says, brushing the hair out of your face as tears start rolling down your cheeks. “What’s the matter?” Then, more aggressively, he adds, “Did he do something to you?”

You shake your head, sniffling. “I didn’t want to throw up,” you say with a small sob halfway through the statement.

“Aw, c’mon,” Jake says, wrapping his arm around your neck and pulling you into his chest. “We’ve all been there,” he continues, rubbing your arm with his hand.

But you’re not so sure that Jake can truly sympathize. After all, not only did you ralph, but you also happened to do it in front of the one person whom you’ve loved for as long as you can remember.

…

Jake helps you stumble your way to the front door and then holds you up as you try to rip apart the straps of your heels to get them off.

“Need some help with those?” he asks, seemingly amused.

You huff in frustration as a wave of perspiration hits you without warning. “I. Can. Do. It!” you pant, clawing at the clasp.

Jake winces as he watches you struggle. Finally, he bends down and hooks his arm behind your knees. Before you know it, he’s lifted you off the ground. “We don’t have all night,” he says, carrying you, bridal-style, down the corridor. He starts for the second floor with you still in his arms as though hauling you up the stairs takes no effort at all.

“I can’t sleep in them,” you mumble, resting your weary head on his shoulder.

“Can’t you?” he responds, kicking lightly at the partially open door to your bedroom and walking inside. You brace yourself for an impact, thinking that Jake is going to toss you down onto the mattress but, instead, he squats to set you down gingerly onto the bed. He glances over your face and removes some of the hair that’s stuck to your cheek with either sweat or tears or – well, you prefer not to consider an alternative. “How’re you feeling?” he asks quietly.

You swallow uncomfortably, letting your eyes meet his despite the whirlwind in your chest that’s perpetuating the already pronounced nausea. “Uh,” you utter. “Dizzy.”

Jake nods with a sympathetic smile. He reaches for your foot and starts undoing the clasp.

“Yeah, good luck,” you say flatly and fall backward onto the bed with a groan.

Jake chuckles and, within seconds, removes your shoe.

You sit back up in a daze. “How…?”

Jake gives you a humorous look. “You’re going to laugh so hard about this tomorrow.”

Once he takes off your second shoe, you lift yourself off the bed and start to unzip your shorts. Jake promptly turns away. “Sorry,” you say, shimmying out of your shorts as Jake starts inspecting the frame of your bedroom door intently. He runs his fingers along the trim as though nothing has ever fascinated him more.

Normally, you’d never even consider changing in Jake’s presence but, in your inebriated state, you’re feeling far more brazen.

Once your shorts are off, you kick them aside unceremoniously. Jake’s head moves slightly as his eyes follow the trajectory of the flying shorts and you can tell that he’s very purposefully trying not to look in your direction. You start to pull off your top, certain that he wouldn’t turn around even if you yelled ‘Fire’. You toss your shirt into a pile with your shorts and grab a t-shirt out of the hamper, pulling it over your head and crawling back onto your bed. “I’m decent,” you say, dropping into your comforter.

Jake turns back cautiously, as if he doesn't fully trust you and, as he makes his way toward the bed, he’s distracted by your attire. “You’re gonna be sleeping in that?” he asks, somewhat surprised.

You glance down and notice that you’re back in his Pantera shirt. You shrug. “I guess.” You shuffle around the bed, swaying as you try to find the edge of the blanket so that you could crawl underneath. Eventually, you end up collapsing on the bed in frustration. “Everything is spinning!” you moan.

Jake reaches for the comforter. “You’re sitting on it, genius.”

“Oh,” you mutter as he helps you unravel the sheets and climb inside. “Thanks.”

Jake covers you up and says, “Turn onto your side.”

You sigh, having finally gotten into a semi-comfortable position on your back. “Why?” you whine.

“Just do it,” he says firmly, putting his hand behind your shoulder to turn you.

You whimper but follow his instructions. “Are you leaving to get Bradley now?” you ask.

“No,” he responds, lowering himself onto the floor by your bed and leaning his back against it.

You lift your head weakly. “Why not?”

“I told him to catch an Uber,” he says. “Besides, he’s probably not gonna be home for a while.”

You make an “mm” sound and lift yourself further off the pillow. “Jake,” you say curiously. “What are you doing?”

He glances over his shoulder at you. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you sitting on the floor?”

Jake sighs. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re very drunk.”

“So?”

“Just stop talking and go to sleep,” Jake responds grumpily.

You furrow your eyebrows. “Are you going to stay up all night?”

“I’ll sleep if I get tired.”

You narrow your eyes. “On the floor?”

Jake breathes out in exasperation. “Where else?” he says, turning his head to look at you again.

You glance down at the unused half of your bed pointedly. “I don’t think you have to stay,” you murmur, even though what you want to say is ‘There’s enough bed here for the two of us’.

“You want me to leave?” Jake asks and you’re forced to look him in the eye once more.

Slowly, you shake your head. “I don’t want you to have to sleep on the floor,” you respond.

“It’s not a big deal.”

You gulp. “You can come on the bed if you want,” you say hesitantly, dropping your gaze.

Jake lets out an uneasy chuckle. “Imagine?” he says.

You release a quick laugh because it’s all you’ve been imagining for years. “Jake?” you say quietly.

“Mm?” He turns to look back at you after repositioning himself on the floor.

“Thanks,” you say.

Jake watches you earnestly. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do.” You nod with your head back on the pillow. “You saved me.”

Jake scoffs. “Hardly.”

You reach forward and rest a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

Jake places his own hand over yours. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

You nod as your eyelids become increasingly heavy. “Will you give me advice on my sex life?” you ask sleepily.

“Anything but that,” Jake responds.

A smile spreads on your face and you shift your body closer to the edge of the bed so that you can more easily keep your hand on his shoulder. “We did the thing,” you mutter almost incoherently.

Jake’s posture stiffens as he lifts his back away from the bedframe.

“It was alright,” you continue without opening your eyes.

“Alright?” you hear a hint of distaste in his tone.

“Wasn’t as good as he said it would be.”

“Then he did it wrong,” Jake responds flatly.

You open your eyes minutely. “You don’t even know what it is.”

Jake is watching you soberly. “I don’t have to know.”

You shrug. “Guess I won’t know until I do it with someone else. To compare, you know?”

Jake cringes. “What will it take for you to shut up and go to sleep?”

You chuckle. “Why does it bother you so much?”

“It’s gross,” he responds curtly. “Anyway, forget about that loser. You’re obviously never gonna see him again.”

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, ‘why not’?”

“I’ll probably see him tomorrow.”

Jake stands up briskly. “Are you kidding me? He abandoned you at some random house party!”

“So? He was just pissed about losing to a girl. He’ll get over it.”

Jake puts his hands on his hips. “You shouldn’t.”

You gaze up at him sleepily. “It’s fine, Jake. He’ll call and apologize.”

Jake shakes his head. “Don’t you dare consider seeing him again.”

You grimace. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I can if you’re gonna be stupid about it.”

You grit your teeth. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“If you're gonna be seeing him again, then yeah. Very much.”

You seethe. “Well, maybe you're rubbing off on me.”

Jake stares at you coolly. “Very mature.”

You roll your eyes and turn away to face the wall. “Go to hell.”

Jake spins on his heel and heads for the door. “Whatever,” he grumbles, flicking off the light and slamming the door behind him.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you call after him, scrambling out of the bed and stumbling haphazardly to the door. “Why are you such a dick?” you yell, opening your door.

Jake gives you a harsh look from the top of the staircase. “You’re going to continue dating that shithead after all these red flags?” he shouts back. “Your brother told you to be careful!” he continues, pointing an accusing finger at you.

“Maybe I am being careful!”

Jake scowls, shaking his head. “It doesn’t sound like it.”

“Stop judging me!”

“I’M NOT JUDGING YOU!” he roars. “I’M WORRIED ABOUT YOU!”

“WHY?”

Jake exhales steadily as he tries to regain his composure. Then, he begins descending the stairs.

“Where are you going?” you say.

“Home,” he replies brusquely.

“I thought you were staying,” you say, making your way toward the stairs as he disappears down the corridor.

“You’re fine,” you hear him say.

You start down after him but, when the curve of the stairs starts to coil right before your eyes, you gasp and cling onto the banister for dear life.

Instantly, you hear Jake running back toward the staircase from the front hall. He arrives at the foot of the stairs and breathes a sigh of relief seeing that you’re still upright. “Why are you following me?” he asks aggressively, climbing back up the stairs, taking three at a time.

“I don’t want you to go,” you say desperately, sinking down onto the step you’re standing on.

When Jake reaches you, he kneels down, placing a hand on your leg and another on your arm as though he’s afraid you might lose your balance again, even as you’re sitting. He lets out a wavering breath. “Are you insane? You could’ve broken your neck,” he says.

You stare at the space between the two of you moodily. “I guess it’s just one poor decision after another,” you mutter irritably.

Jake sighs, brushing his hand over your bare thigh. “Tell me about it,” he says. You shoot him a dirty look and he gives you a tight smile. “I’ll stay, alright?”

You nod.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” he says, helping you to your feet. He leads you back to the bedroom in silence.

You aren’t sure exactly if the two of you have made up or if he’s just reluctant to leave because you’re being reckless. But, regardless, you’re relieved that he still cares enough about you to stay despite being angry.

Once you’re under the covers, he sits down on the edge your bed. “I don’t get it,” he says. “Why would you keep seeing this dumbass? You could do so much better.”

You sigh tiredly. The truth is, you weren’t entirely sure whether you’d ever talk to your boyfriend again. But Jake’s pushiness hit a nerve and you made your mind up out of spite. Now, you’re not really sure how to respond. “It’s just nice to be liked,” you finally say.

Jake lifts his eyebrows. “I like you.”

You shake your head. “Not like that, Jake. You know what I mean. It’s nice to feel…” you bite your lip, slightly more reserved now that you’re starting to sober up.

“What?”

You shrug. “Wanted,” you finish sheepishly. When Jake furrows his eyebrows like an idiot, you decide to elaborate. “You know – physically. To feel like someone needs to have me. An all-encompassing, mind-altering desire that can’t be helped.” You stop talking as Jake’s blinking eyes go round in his shock and decide to omit the fact that you basically just want someone to hunger for you the way you do for him.

Jake grimaces. “That jackass makes you feel this way?” he asks.

You purse your lips, realizing that you’ve never actually noticed. “Not really,” you admit. “I mean, he wants sex, I know that much.”

Jake cringes, bringing a hand to his forehead and rubbing at his brow. “I swear to god, if you mention your sex life one more time, I’m going to throw myself out your window.”

You snort. “You’re so dramatic,” you respond, repeating his own words from earlier in the night.

Jake turns around and lowers his back onto your bed to lie down next to you over the covers. He puts his hands over his chest, looking up at the ceiling. “I know it’s not my place,” he says, and then turns his head to look at you, his face barely six inches from yours. “But I am begging you, please dump his sorry ass.”

You sigh, contemplating his request.

“Trust me, sweet cheeks,” he adds. “You've got options.”

Read Part 7

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[mama2bears]

The Storm Of Life - Part 1

Warnings: mention of death (no main characters), tornado

Pairing: Tyler Owens/ F. Reader

Summary: You are a single mother, currently sleeping in your car and trapped in the path of a tornado when Tyler finds you. He will go above and beyond to help you put the broken pieces back together again.

A/N: I had this idea and so far it has been really easy to write. Please let me know what you think. I was thinking of just doing little chapters and maybe do a slow burn relationship? Let me know what you think and if you want to see more. I am still new at writing fan fiction, so I love your feedback! Thank you for reading.

Part 1

“THERE IT IS!” Boone pointed out the funnel, “Seems to be heading east.”

“I got it.” Tyler made a sharp right turn on the next road. The tornado was a big one and it was heading directly towards them.

“WOO!!!” Boone hanged out the window with the video rolling, “Are you guys seeing this!” he yelled for all of the YouTube followers.

“What the hell...” Tyler slammed on the brakes and Boone almost went flying.

“What the..” then Boone seen it.. A small car parked on the side of the road, hood up, smoke coming from under the hood and in the direct path of the oncoming tornado.

“HEY! You gotta get out of there! You okay?” Tyler yelled.

He saw you in the driver's seat and clearly you had been crying. You had your young son and daughter in the back.

In an instant Tyler was out of the truck, “Come on, get in my truck!” he yelled over the roaring winds. He ripped open the back door and grabbed your son while Boone ran to the other side of the car to get your daughter.

Tyler helped you in the the backseat of the truck and handed you the children, 'We gotta go!”

“LULU! My LULU!” your little girl cried.

“Honey we can't...” you say softly.

“What's LULU?” Tyler asked.

“Her stuffed bear.” you say

Tyler ran back to the car and grabbed the stuffed animal off the back seat.

“Here sweetie. We can't leave LULU behind.” he handed the animal back to your daughter and hit a button on the center console of his truck.

“What are you doing? The tornado is here!” you scream.

“I know...put those harnesses on and hold on. We don't have time to outrun it now. I've anchored the truck, we will be okay.” Tyler turned around in his seat to make sure everyone was getting seat belts and harnesses on before he slipped his own harness on.

The truck shook as the twister passed right though them. There was a loud bang outside the window and your son cried “Our car mommy! Our car is gone!”

“We're okay!” Tyler yelled in hopes of comforting them. “It's okay...tornado is passing...it's okay.”

As quick as it got started, the tornado was gone and blue skies began to appear.

Tyler turned around to speak to you and his heart broke, seeing you and your kids in tears, “Hey, hey....it's okay. I'll see if I can find your car. We'll take photos for the insurance. They'll help you get another one. In the meantime I'll give you a ride home.” he tried to comfort you.

“That car was our home. Now I really have nothing.” you cried.

Tyler sighed and his eyes meant Boone's. He knew he had to help you, but he wasn't sure how just yet.

“It's going to be okay.” Tyler opened his door. “You guys stay here. There's a lot of debris out there and I don't want anyone getting hurt. I'll go see how bad it is.”

“I am scared mommy.” Your daughter cried. Your son was looking out the window crying. Boone turned around and saw you trying your best to dry your tears and comfort the kids. He wasn't great with kids, he didn't really have any experience, but he had to try something. It was breaking his heart to see you all so scared.

“Hey...who want's some ice cream? There's a little shop right up the road.” he gave a soft smile.

The kids crying stopped. “ME! ME! ME!” came happy yells from the backseat. Boone grinned, satisfied that he had made the kids happy, at least for a moment.

Tyler returned, a heartbroken look on his face. He got in the truck and turns to the back to look at you, “Sorry miss...the car is totaled. It's wrapped around a tree back there. I grabbed some clothes and toys I found and I've put them in the back of my truck for you.

“ICE CREAM! ICE CREAM!” the children in the back were still chanting, despite you trying to calm them down and fighting back tears.

Tyler frowned, a bit confused on why the kids were cheering for ice cream.

“We gotta go get ice cream!” Boone grinned at Tyler, “And you're buying.”

“Who's idea was this?” Tyler asked the kids with a small smile.

“HIS!!!” Both kids pointed at Boone, who tried to put on an innocent face.

“Alright...Ice Cream it is.” he smiled, keying up the radio to let the rest of the team know, “We're making a emergency ice cream stop in town.”

“A what?” Lily asked.

“Just meet us at the ice cream parlor in town.” Tyler said before starting the truck and heading towards town.

“I'm Tyler by the way. This is my buddy Boone.” he said, “We're storm chasers. I am glad we came by when we did. What you doing out here?”

“I was heading into town to see about finding a new baby sitter. My old one just quite and and I can't afford to lose my job. But now I don't know what I am going to do.” you turned your head to look out the window so your kids couldn't see the tears run down your cheek.

“Hey hey now...it'll be okay...What's your name?” Tyler asked.

“I am Y/N. This is my son Billy and my daughter Harley.” you say.

“Hi Billy and Harley!” Tyler smiled, “How old are you guys?”

The kids were silent as they looked at Tyler and back to their mom, “Harley just turned 3 and Billy is 4.” you tell him.

“Four and a half.” Billy corrects. “I four and a half.”

“Four and a half.” Tyler nods and flashes you a grin, “Get it right Mom! He's four and a half.”

You give him a grateful smile as he pulls the truck into the local ice cream shop. Thankfully the twister had touched down outside of town and died out before reaching it.

Tyler opens the door for you and lifts both kids out. “This is a big truck! I love trucks!” Billy smiled.

“Really?” Boone said as Tyler opened the door for everyone, “You know T here shoots fireworks off the back of his truck.”

“REALLY!” Billy's eyes light up.

“Really,” Tyler said. “Hey, maybe later I'll let you hit the button that makes them go BOOM!”

“YAY!” Billy cheered.

“What about you, Harley?” Tyler looked at her, “You wanna shoot off fireworks too?”

She nodded, biting at her figure nails.

“She's really shy...until she gets to know you. Once she knows you, she'll be stuck to you like glue.” you say as your daughter wraps her little arms around your leg.

Tyler gives you both a smile just as the rest of the team arrived.

“Ah, here's my team! This is Lily, she operates our drone.”

“You got a DRONE too! Can we set fireworks off of THAT!”

Everyone laughs and Tyler shakes his head no, “Sorry little man. Can't set fireworks off the drone, but we can look on a screen and see some really cool videos. It will be almost like you're a bird flying.”

“COOL! I am a eagle!” Billy yells, pretending to fly around the ice cream shop.

“Billy, stop that and come here.” you scold, to which he comes over and stands next to you.

“This is Dexter. He's our scientist and weather watcher. He helps Dani with our merchandise sales.” Tyler points to Dani, “And that's Dani...she's scientist, sales, YouTube, photo taker, you name it, she does it.”

“Everyone, this is Y/N and her two little ones, Billy and Harley. Their car just got wrapped around a tree by the tornado so, we're helping them out.”

“Oh my God, are you guys okay?” Lily asked.

“Yes, Tyler got us into his truck just in time. Thank God he got there.” You were shaking, realizing just how close you and the kids came to losing your life.

“Hey, it's okay now. Don't worry.” Tyler gave you a small hug, “So, what is everyone having?”

“Chocolate.” Dani ordered, “Strawberry” came Dexter's order, “Rocky road” Lily chimed in.

“Banana Split” Boone said, “And T said he's paying for it!” he informed the team.

You and the kids are looking at the many different ice cream flavors when Tyler walks up behind you, “Know what you guys want?” he asks softly.

“Bent Socket Rip.” Harley smiles.

Tyler frowns for a moment, then catches on, “Mint Chocolate Chip, right?”

Harley nods with a smile.

“Mint chocolate chip for me too!” Billy adds.

“And what about for mom here?” he asks.

“Chocolate will be fine. “ you smile.

“Coming right up.”

Everyone gets their orders placed and takes a seat around one of the tables.

“So you're storm chasers...you do this for a living?” you ask.

“Yes..and because it's fun.” Tyler smiles. “We do this to collect data for varies weather teams and to try to approve the warning time for these storms. We go into towns and help out after a tornado. I enjoy my work, even if it's dangerous. I respect the storm, but I try to have fun with it too, that way other people will want to learn more about thunderstorms and tornadoes and maybe learn how to be safe in them.

“What do you do?” he asks.

“I am a waitress at the diner here in town. Or I should say used to be. If I don't find a sitter by tomorrow then I am fired. And now I don't even have a car...so. I don't know. If it's not one thing it's something else.” you shake your head and try to hold back the tears that want to fall.

“We'll figure something out.” Tyler promised. “I am not just going to leave you stranded.” he bite his bottom lip trying to think.

“Hey guys, once you all are done with your ice cream, why don't you take the kids out and show them all the cool stuff we've got.” Tyler told the team.

“Can I see the fireworks!” Billy asked.

Tyler laughed, “Not yet, buddy. No shooting off fireworks in the parking lot. But maybe we'll go off into a field later and fire some off.”

“YAY! BOOM BOOM!” Billy's eyes light up with excitement.

“Thank you.” You give a small smile to this guy who just happened to stop and pluck you and the kids out of a tornado's path, and now he was going out of his way to make the kids happy and try to keep their mind off of the serious of the situation.

Once the kids were done with their ice cream the team lead them out to explore all three of their vehicles and the equipment that made storm chasing possible.

“Do you have any place to go?” Tyler asked once the kids were outside.

“No...I don't even know anyone.” you turn your head away as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Hey, it's okay.” Tyler's voice was kind and gentle, “you know me and the team..that's something.” he placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort. “How about the kid's father? Is he in the picture?”

“No. He was killed three years ago in a tornado. Him and my parents. He went to get my parents from their house because they didn't have a storm cellar and we did. They were killed on the way back to our farm. The tornado blew the truck off the road.” you broke down in tears remembering that awful day. “Harley had just be born...”

“I am sorry.” Tyler pulled you into a hug. “No family or anything around?”

You shook your head, “My parents were my only family. His family had passed away before we met.”

Tyler took a deep breath, “Okay, let me make a phone call. I think I might have an idea.”

He stood and walked to the back of the parlor.

“Hey, mom?” he said when she picked up the phone.

“Listen, I have a lady here with two little children. Their car just got destroyed in a tornado. They were living in the car. She has no family and no where to go. That's about all I know right now, but she's gonna need a place to stay and maybe someone to watch the kids. At least for a little while. She's working at a diner here in town.”

“Okay, great. Mom, thank you. I love you too. Bye Bye.”

Tyler was smiling when he returned to the table, “Okay, my mom and I have a ranch about half an hour from here. We have two spare bedrooms and you are welcomed to stay there as long as you need. She even volunteered to watch the kids when you go to work. It's just her and the animals when I am not around, so I am sure she would enjoy some company.”

You smile and hug Tyler, “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Not a problem.” he smiled. “Wanna go shoot off fireworks on our way?”

You smile, drying your tears, “Actually, that does sound pretty awesome.”

“Hot dog, let's go do it then!” he stood and walked with you to the door, “Who's ready for fireworks!” He yelled as he pushed open the door.

The whole team screamed like kids, making you break out in laughter, for the first time in years. You didn't know what laid ahead, but at least now, you had hope that maybe you could get back on your feet again.

[bruisedboys]

over the influence — remus lupin x reader

summary: remus lupin is not your boyfriend, but he sure knows how to act like he is.

contains: friends to lovers, friends trying really hard to be lovers, fluff, mutual pining, lovesick oblivious remus, drunk!reader, modern!au, rugby!james cw implied fem!reader, reader wears a skirt, alcohol consumption.

note: um welcome to my first ever remus fic!? if I’m being honest I have no idea if it’s good but I’m posting it anyway yolo

fem!reader 2.9k words

You’re plastered when Remus finds you. Absolutely hammered.

He can tell because you’re giggling madly at one of Sirius’s jokes, which you never do, because Sirius’s jokes are awful and you thankfully have a good sense of humour. But, you’re a giggly drunk, who finds just about anything anyone says absolutely hilarious. It’s adorable, usually. But right now, it’s blowing Sirius’s ego out of the water.

Remus dives in to save you as Sirius roars with laughter at his own joke.

“Dove,” he says, clasping your shoulder. You’re slumped into the sofa, your head lolling against the cushions. “There you are.”

You twist to look who it is, your face all scrunched up as you take him in. You blink very slowly. Then, just as slow, your face lights up.

“Remus!” You gasp happily. “Hi, baby. I was wondering where you went!”

Baby. Remus’s face burns and his heart does a triple backflip. You’re drunk, he reasons. Super drunk.

“Are you okay?” He asks you, bending at the waist so you can hear him better. It’s loud, the music and the people and Sirius, especially.

“I’m perfect,” you say, words all slurry and sticky and ending in a sort of ditzy hiccup.

Well, you’re not wrong about that. Remus takes the seat next to you and your droopy eyes follow him down.

“How much have you had to drink?” Remus asks, trying for curious but coming out a bit concerned. “What did you even drink?”

You shrug and hiccup again. “I don’t know.” Your shoulders drop and so do your lips, a sort of confused frown washing over your features. “Sirius made me some weird concoction … it was kinda gross, Rem.” You look at Remus very seriously, your eyelids low. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Remus laughs and pretends to zip his lips. “Your secret’s safe with me, babe.”

Chances are it’s not, and Remus will mock Sirius about it endlessly. Not tonight, though. Tonight he’s mainly focused on making sure you don’t touch another cup of anything other than water.

You’re giggling again, though Remus isn’t sure what at. You’re just gazing at him and giggling your head off like a maniac.

“What’s so funny, pretty?” He asks fondly, a grin tugging at his lips. He knows you don’t have a chance of remembering any of this by tomorrow morning. Hence the pet names.

You stop laughing abruptly. It’s alarming and then not, because your big grin stays put. You lean in close, your chest pressing into his side. Remus smells all your smells, your perfume and your hairspray and the mystery drink you’ve definitely had too much of.

“You’re pretty,” you say, completely ignoring his question.

Remus flushes. You’re never this forward. It’s driving him nuts, the way you’re looking at him. How close you are. The way your scents wash over him and make him feel almost as drunk as you are.

“Whatever you say,” he says, brushing off your compliment because what the hell is he supposed to say to that? “I think you need some water.”

Remus gets up but you catch his wrist before he’s fully standing, your soft fingers pressing into his skin.

“Wait, don’t leave!” You sound desperate and you look the part, too. Your pretty eyes are blown wide as saucers.

Remus falters. “I’ll be five seconds, dove. M’just getting you a glass of water.”

You pout in such a way that makes Remus want to kiss you silly. “Take me with you, then?”

Remus finds he physically cannot say no to that look. He hauls you up by the forearm and you cling happily to his arm. Remus makes his way to the kitchen with you attached to his arm like a barnacle, your fingers pressing into the crook of his elbow, your thigh brushing his as you walk far too close to him. It’s dizzying, and Remus is surprised he’s managing to walk in a straight line.

In the kitchen, it’s much quieter but you’re not any less drunk. You detach yourself from Remus and skip over to the kitchen island. Before Remus can stop you you’re hauling yourself up onto the bench, so unsteady on your feet that you almost topple right off. Remus catches you by the elbow just before disaster strikes.

“Oops,” you giggle, breathless and totally out of your mind. “Sorry.”

Remus’s heart stops racing with worry and instead races with infatuation with you. Even in your drunken state.

“S’fine,” he says kindly, patiently, because you’re too sweet for your own good. You almost went toppling to your demise and you’re apologizing. “Just be careful. Please.”

You nod and sit pretty while Remus retrieves a glass and fills it with cold water from the fridge. When he turns back you’re making grabby hands for the glass. Remus looks at you, your wobbly state and your clumsy hands, and holds the condensation-ridden glass closer to his chest.

You pout and drop your arms. “Remus.”

“You’ll drop it, honey,” he says, as kindly as he can without sounding like he’s babying you. He is babying you, actually. Not that he’s gonna tell you that. “Let me.”

You let him. He brings one hand to rest at the small of your back, his fingers brushing the strip of skin just shy of your skirt’s waistband. He tries not to think about it as he brings the glass to your lips.

You drink like you’ve been stuck in a desert for six days, gulping like your life depends on it. Remus is grinning fondly until you finish and dip your head backwards. Your neck is bared to the kitchen lights and your chest is heaving dramatically, and Remus feels so lightheaded he actually has to grab the counter.

You notice, because of course you do, even in your tipsy state. You frown and put your hand on Remus’s where it’s gripping the counter for dear life.

“Remus? Are you okay?”

Remus blinks rapidly, hitches a grin onto his face. “I’m fine,” he says, fake grin at work. “Do you want more water?”

You think about it for a second. Then you look at Remus like you’re about to deliver the worst news of his life. “I need to pee,” you say solemnly.

Remus almost laughs. Almost. “Well, c’mon then.” He sets your empty glass down and grabs your forearm. “I’ll get one of the girls to take you.”

“No!” You say desperately. You throw your arms around Remus’s neck and tug him into you, and Remus is so startled he doesn’t have time to think about how close you are. You push your face into his neck. “No,” you say again, quieter this time. “I don’t want them to look after me. I want you.”

Your closeness catches up with Remus in a rush of heat all over his body. Your thighs press into his sides and your arms are like a vice around his neck. His heart thrums and his chest burns and it takes him a while to figure out what he’s saying.

“Dove,” he says gently. He pries himself off of you, albeit reluctantly, and puts his hands over your biceps, squeezing lightly. “I can’t take you to the bathroom.”

You frown. “Why not?”

Remus stutters. “Well, because. I’m- I’m not—”

“Please?” You beg, looking awfully cute when you clasp your hands together between yours and Remus’s chests. “You can just stand outside the door and wait. I’ll be fine.”

Half of Remus thinks it’s a bad idea, you might trip on your own feet and whack your head on the bathtub. The other half of him can’t ever say no to you, not even when what you’re proposing is totally dangerous and an awful idea. He’s not exactly proud of himself when he nods.

“Yeah, alright then,” he says, and you beam. “Come on.”

Remus ends up looking after you for the remainder of the night, you’re so drunk. He drives you home not long after your bathroom break. Sobers you up with some tea which you barely touch, and more cold water which you skull like you’ve been deprived of it for days.

He deposits you in your bed and you’re already half asleep by the time he does it, but you manage a sleepy, “Thank you,” that’s so sweet Remus feels his chest ache. He leaves you fast asleep in the comfort of your bed, ignores the urge to crash on your couch, and double checks he’s locked your doors on the way out.

Not that anyone’s asking, but he’s maybe just had the best night of his life.

-

Remus gets a call from you the next day and his heart skips. He thinks, stupidly, that maybe you’ve decided you hate him after last night. He picks it up anyway, because he misses you.

“Remus,” you say, as soon as the phone’s on his ear. You sound somewhat anguished. “Was I awful last night?”

He laughs, surprised. “What?”

“Was I awful to look after?” You ask like it’s obvious. “I barely remember anything. James said I was clinging to you for half the night.” You’re moaning like it’s a bad thing. For Remus it wasn’t. “And I’m sure I said some weird shit, I was so loopy off that stupid drink Siri gave me. I—”

Remus saves you before you fall into a self-deprecating waffle.

“Y/N,” he interrupts your rambling. “What’s gotten into you, dove? You were fine. It was fine.” I like looking after you, he doesn’t say.

“But—”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Remus tries not to laugh because you are being ridiculous, but you also really do sound quite worked up about it. “It’s fine. I wasn’t about to leave you to the crows.”

You giggle, thankfully. When you speak again you sound much happier. “‘The crows’ as in Sirius?”

Remus snorts. “Yeah. The crows as in Sirius. I think I’ll have a word with him about the drinks he passes around.”

You huff, and Remus can picture your pout. “Please do. I’m never drinking with him again.”

Remus laughs, a mixture of amusement and fondness and agreement. You’re much more yourself this morning, perky and a little dramatic and a bit of an over-thinker. Though admittedly, Remus didn’t mind loopy you last night.

“Are you going to James’s game tonight?” You ask, a smile evident in your voice.

Remus snaps out of his lovelorness long enough to reply, “Are you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“‘Cos I’m only going if you’re going.”

You laugh loud and the heat in Remus’s cheeks only grows. He loves making you laugh more than he’d like to admit.

“That’s mean, Remus,” you scold, with less heat than a block of ice. “Don’t you want to support your friend?”

“Friend isn’t really the right word,” Remus jokes. He’s happy to make you laugh at James’s expense. He’s sure James can take it.

You laugh again, and Remus knows you know he means it jokingly.

You’re still giggling when you talk again, breathless and adorable. “Alright, well. Would you mind picking me up?”

Remus agrees far too quickly to be normal, with far too much eagerness. He gets off the phone after agreeing on a time to pick you up, and knows he’s a total goner.

-

Remus isn’t your boyfriend. He’s your friend. And yet here you are, sitting very close to him in the stadium stands while you watch James’s rugby game. Only last night, he’d looked after you and driven you home when you got too tipsy. He’d also, at your request, given you a ride here, telling you all the while that you were the only reason he’s coming to the game at all. So maybe he’s closer to being your boyfriend than you think.

You watch James score a try and your row of seats erupts into cheers, Lily’s the loudest. The big screen above the field shows the camera panning to a close up of James. He whoops and pounds his fists in the air and blows a big smacking kiss in the general direction of your group of friends.

“He’s such a show off,” Remus drawls into your ear. You can hear him smiling.

You giggle and twist in your seat so you can look at him. He looks extraordinarily pretty tonight, in dark brown pants and a forest green t-shirt, his dark hair (in need of a cut) windswept and going in every direction possible. You want to kiss him so bad your chest burns. On the way here, he’d had his hand on your thigh for half the drive and you didn’t say a word the entire time. You think maybe you’re unhealthily obsessed with him.

“What?” Remus asks curiously, lips parted, and you realise you’ve been staring too long.

Heat washes over your cheeks. “Nothing,” you say as nonchalantly as you can.

“Have I got something on my face? You’re staring at me like I’ve grown two heads.”

The way he says it is like he knows exactly why you were staring at him. Desperate for an escape, you stand before you even know what you’re doing.

“I’m going to get more popcorn,” you declare to your friends in general. You purposefully avoid looking at Remus, afraid you’ll keel over and die. “Anyone want more?”

You get a few yes’s and one “I’m coming,” from Remus, which completely ruins the point. You’d tell him so but that would mean admitting you’re sickeningly obsessed with him. You allow him to tag along.

Sirius gives you a look as you leave with Remus, eyebrows raised like he knows exactly how much you like his friend. You’re sure he does. He doesn’t miss much, that boy. And he’s been giving you looks ever since you arrived. You flip him off behind Remus’s back.

Once at the popcorn stand, Remus insists on paying. It’s irritating, really, how sweet he is.

“Remus,” you groan, swatting his wallet away. “I can pay for myself.”

“I know you can, dove,” he says. “I’m just trying to be nice.”

And he gives you a smile so staggering that you let him pay for the popcorn. You’re still grumbling about it on the way back to your seats.

“You’re too nice,” you tell him, plonking down in your seat with a frown. “Stop being so nice, I’m sick of it.”

Remus laughs, really laughs, the kind that has you fighting a smile even though you’re annoyed at him. He’s got a lovely laugh.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding the opposite. He’s got a smarmy grin on his mouth, all teeth. You’d pummel him if he wasn’t so pretty. “Do you want me to be mean instead?”

You glare. “You’re mean to everyone else,” you say, which is entirely true and you both know it. He wouldn’t look after a drunk Sirius like he did you if his life depended on it.

To your surprise, Remus flushes. “Well, I—“

He’s interrupted by a yell of his name from Sirius, and then you realise they’re all calling your name, too. Shouts of “Remus!” and “Y/N!” and “Look!”

You twist in your seat, confused.

“What—?”

And then you see it. The kiss cam is on the big screen, colours and words blazing. And just your luck, it’s your face blown up ten times as big on the screen, your eyes wide and your lips parted as you stare back at yourself, caught mid-sentence. You think maybe you’re dreaming, because right next to your face is Remus’s. He’s just as shocked as you.

You turn to look at the real Remus, just as he turns to look at you. Your friends are having a field day, shouting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You ignore them.

“I …” You’re not sure what to say, your mouth filling with nothing but silence. You want badly to kiss him. You’ve always wanted to kiss him, and you think everyone but Remus knows it.

“We don’t have to,” he says quickly, mistaking your silence for unwillingness. “It’s just a stupid kiss cam.”

But you do have to, because he’s Remus, and maybe this stupid kiss cam is the only chance you’re ever gonna get. You swallow the nerves that are building up in your throat and ignore the fact that Sirius is practically screaming at the two of you from three seats down.

“I want to,” you say quietly, too quietly, and Remus doesn’t hear you over the hubbub. So you try again. “I want to.”

Remus goes very still, his lips parted and his chest heaving. Suddenly it feels like it’s just the two of you. He stares at you like you’re made of gold and your heart does somersaults.

Then he smiles. “Me too.”

He brings his hand to your jaw and you barely have time to bask in his touch before he’s kissing you. Really kissing you. He tastes like butter and sugar and he smells exactly like he always does. His hands are soft but sure where they cup your face and your chest is on fire, your heart is punching and kicking and you worry you might pass out in his arms you’re so giddy.

Your friends are screaming bloody murder, Sirius the worst of them all, and you’re sure the kiss cam has probably panned away from you by now but you can’t stop kissing him. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until you can’t breathe anymore. You’d go on forever but you’re losing breath and you really do think you’re lightheaded now.

You pull away before you pass out from lack of oxygen. Remus looks as frazzled as you feel, pink in the cheeks and his lips all swollen and his eyes are bright and burning and holy shit, you just want to kiss him again.

You almost do, but then Sirius and Frank and Lily appear and clap your backs, shout words you can barely hear and Sirius is so happy he looks like he might burst into tears. You laugh, half-delirious and sick as a dog in love with Remus, and somehow your hands end up tangled with his in his lap and your thigh is crushing his and he’s looking at you like he wants to kiss you again.

Lucky you, he does kiss you again. And many more times after that, no kiss cam needed.

thank you for reading! feedback & reblogs are appreciated 🤍