#so he did it in secret and had the bike sent to dads place

[slashingdisneypasta]

Oh lord, my brother got a loan and bought a motorcycle.

No he doesn't have a motorcycle licence (not even a full driver's license, he's probably got about 10 full minutes behind the wheel).

I am a little worried about that...

[theroyalsims]

IBRAHIM DENIED ENTRY INTO AL-SIMHARA; ANYA TO REPRESENT BRINDLETON

Reports from both Al-Simhara and Brindleton confirm that Ibrahim, the late King Phillip's eldest son and former heir was denied entry into the country.

Ibrahim reportedly flew using a close friend's private jet immediately after he found out about his father's passing. A source reveals:

"He just dropped to his knees and cried. What's really sad is no one from the family contacted him. He learned that his father died on TV. He couldn't even confirm things with his siblings, his family, because no one took his calls. After he composed himself, he asked to borrow a good friend's jet so he could fly to Al-Simhara to pay respects to his dad. When the plane landed, however, he was turned away, and was denied entry to the country.

The 'ban' has to do with the fact that he was officially banished by his father for relinquishing his titles and later, for marrying Eleanore. Besides, Ibrahim now holds Brindleton citizenship, and since he did not have a valid visa or travel documents, he was denied entry. He asked to speak to his little brother, the new King, but his request was firmly shot down. He was forced to fly back to Brindletonn, more dejected, more depressed than he already was."

(Above: File photo - the father-and-son duo used to be thick as thieves during happier times.)

Prior to all the drama surrounding his abdication, Ibrahim had a very good relationship with his father. The late King often referred to him as his "good son." It was also no secret that Ibrahim was his favourite child:

"He was very much King Phillip's favourite. His Majesty recognised that he would be a good King and would continue the legacy of the Al-Simharan Royal Family. But with how things unfolded, there was just no going back, especially for Ibrahim."

It was confirmed via an official statement that the late King died earlier this week from a freak motorcycle incident. The King, an avid motorcycle collector, enjoyed riding his 'toys' whenever he had free time. Over the weekend, he reportedly rode one of his dirt bikes along a trail at a nature park. However, the King lost control of his motorcycle and fell off a ravine.

The King's unexpected passing has sent Al-Simhara into a month-long period of mourning, headed by its new King, 18-year old King Hakim. A state funeral will take place next week, and heads of state from all over the world are expected to attend. It has been reported that Crown Princess Anastasia will be representing Brindleton for the state occasion.

(Above: File photo - Crown Princess Anya often represents Brindleton on various state occasions whenever The Queen is unable to attend.)

The Crown Princess' supposed attendance has already caused quite a stir, with a lot wondering if a Brindleton representative is welcomed in Al-Simhara considering the mess caused by Eleanore and Ibrahim's relationship. The furor was loud enough that even Al-Simhara was cornered into issuing an official statement:

"Al-Simhara is known for its world-class warmth and hospitality. In true Al-Simharan fashion, our doors are always open to visiting members of the Brindleton Royal Family. We are happy to welcome Crown Princess Anastasia as she pays tribute to our beloved late King."

Despite the statement, many are convinced that Anya should not attend for the sake of her sister and her brother-in-law who have been treated poorly by the Al-Simharan royal family. However, it being a state occasion - with diplomatic implications -does Anya actually even have a say in it?

[thecoolerlucky]

I Got Roped Into Being A Hero

Chapter 1: Kidnapped by The Hero

Contents (Warnings/Mild spoilers): Introducing Matchbook and how he became a sidekick to one of the strongest hero in the world.

Wordcount: 3,300+

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

Some believed everyone's sudden gain in unique powers or features was due to the next step in evolution. Others said it was a crazy attempt at making a zombie apocalypse. The work of gods, a meteor that changed their biology, or the results of a secret alien invasion.

No one really had an answer. As far as everyone knew, it just happened. 

It sent the world into chaos, and it took a long time for it to be calm again. Not that it was without turmoil, but they had systems in place for that. All mighty heroes watching over the cities all over the world, helping take down those that decided to use their powers against the less fortunate like...

"Hey, Match, can you give me a light before you go?" The grungy, pot bellied guy with a toucan head said as he wiggled the cigar in front of him. 

You can't even use them right.

"Sure," Matchbook sighed as he let go of the sandwich shop's back door. The heavy weight of it slammed it shut behind him.

He put his fingers together and in a single snap they created a flame atop his middle finger. He offered it to Little Oscar's cancer stick. 

Little Oscar chortled the best he could and lifted his cigar to meet it. "I get it, you hate me asking." He jested, poking fun at the lad. 

"It's the easiest finger to light," he explained  and saw himself explaining hundreds of more times in the future.

After Little Oscar lit it and nodded gratefully, holding it between his beak, Matchbook left. 

He shook his hand to put out the tiny flame. He couldn't make flames bigger than that of a match hence the nickname he had since elementary school. 

He wasn't as gifted as his parents or sister. His mom was a fire manipulator and conjurer, while his dad could heal from injuries at a near instantaneous rate. And his little sister was a fire breather. 

She created sparks much like their mom, except in her mouth. They learned this when she accidentally sneezed as a kid and set Matchbook on fire. 

On the same day, he learned he was immune to heat, just like his mom and sister.

He kicked up a pebble as he strode the sidewalk. He struck it as much as he could on his way home, avoiding the construction specialist setup repairing a damaged city block from a recent villain attack. Most people didn't have too many powerful abilities, but those that did didn't hesitate to make a mess. 

He lost the poor pebble on the way when he kicked it into the fresh and still drying cement. He picked up his pace after that.

It was a long hour walk before he saw his apartment in the distance. If I still had my bike I'd get home so much faster. He recently lost it during a jelly Villain attack and the collateral claim had yet to go through for a replacement. I should move closer. 

Matchbook worked at that shop for a year and enjoyed the mundane task of making sandwiches. It made it easy and gave him time to think about-

"HEY!" A feminine voice shouted far behind him. 

He thought about looking back until a nearby  RuuMmbBBleEe of the destruction told him to head home instead. He subtly picked up the pace. I'm not getting caught outside during a fight. 

"HEY, SIR!"

Sir. I'm barely 22. He pretended he didn't hear them but they were getting closer. He wasn't good at power walking. I can't break out into a full sprint.

A hand firmly gripped Match's left arm to seize his motion.

Oh great. He turned around, holding a forced friendly half smile like he wasn't trying to ignore them a second ago. 

“Oh sorry, I didn't…” He trailed off. 

She let out an exasperated huff in front of him and hunched over to catch her breath. The parts of her blond bob cut hair that didn’t stick to her face from sweat fell forward as she did. 

It wasn't that hot outside, it was a crisp cool sixty degrees, with a light breeze through the buildings. Has she been chasing me for a while? I didn't hear her. 

His eyes drifted to the notepad in her one hand, and as she lifted her head, she smiled. Her glimmering determination reminded him of his little sister.

“Are you alright?” 

She nodded, stood up straight, and adjusted her white blouse. “Yes, sorry, sir.” Do I really look that old? You look the same age as me!  “I’ve been chasing The Hero around all day, and lost him, have you seen him?” 

“Which one?” He mentally kicked himself when he asked. Why did I ask which one? I hadn’t seen a hero all day. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, “this always happens. Why did he pick such a vapid name?” She removed her hand from her nose, “The Hero is his superhero name.” Matchbook heard the hint of disdain for that hero's name. Although he recognized it, he didn't keep track of any other hero's besides his mother and sister.

She rolled up her sleeves, unintentionally drawing his attention to her forearms. He took note of her muscles. More defined than I ever had. She’s in pretty good shape for a journalist? If that’s what she is.

He guessed by her question and notepad. 

“He's one of the strongest heroes in the world, the one who..." she curled her fist, and much like an elderly man complaining about his lawn, shook it at the sky. "Somehow has a backstory that can’t be traced back past surface level research. A person born with a power like him would have been talked about for years, glorified in the media, but it’s like he appeared out of thin air."

She continued her spiel and Matchbook bobbed his head, trying to think of the best way to get out of this conversation. He didn’t know this woman, he barely said a sentence to her and she explained all the inconsistencies with The Hero’s story. I’m not big into hero scandals. 

Regardless, Matchbook politely replied. "It sounds like you have a vendetta against him." I want to go home and relax, no matter how nice you seem.

"I do." She held up her notepad, "I have been chasing that idiot all over the city! So again, have you-" There was another loud bang, and turning back, the two could see the furrow of smoke not that far away. "seen him…?"

He glanced back at her. She looked ready to run toward it.

She's going to get herself hurt. He tugged her attention back, "I haven't, but by the sounds of it, if you don’t live nearby you should get to a shelter.” He noticed the few people on the streets were doing just that. There wasn't one that far from his apartment.

"No way, it might be linked to the hero!" If she’s willing to run into danger, she probably has a power to back herself up. 

He lifted his hand and the next eruption stole his chance to say goodbye. On the fifth floor, overhead, an object crashed straight through the building and partially into the one next to it. They both instinctually ducked at the noise, Matchbook covered his head and saw whatever the object was, it brought some of the second wall down with it and landed in the alley a little bit further back from where they currently stood. 

The woman’s arm whipped up and grabbed at his shirt. She got him by his uniform and yanked him into her. She threw them both back. Neither of them fell, only stumbled as a few pieces of the apartment came down. They fell into the sidewalk where he once stood, exploding into dust upon impact near his shoes. 

That wouldn’t have been a fun trip to the hospital. 

The streets were empty, everyone either got home or went to a shelter. He looked up, seeing that was his apartment. So, unfortunately, he didn't have a room to hide in. He ran around her, expecting to hear her steps behind him. She didn’t follow.

You gotta be kidding me. “Lady, we should get to a shelter! If there’s a villain we can get hurt!” He wasn’t quite running yet—he was slowly moving toward the direction of the shelter a few blocks away. 

She ignored him. She went toward the alley. What is she doing! 

He followed her. His objective was to pull her like she did him. 

Matchbook barely caught her whisper. “Which hero is that?”

He felt his eyes drawn to the entity standing there. The man was in a luchador wrestling outfit, adorned with a sparkling cape. Though, Matchbook tore his eyes away as it looked very very ‘form fitting’ bright red suit. That's a colorful outfit, he's probably some hero?

The man smiled, leaned at them, and threw himself forward and into the woman. Matchbook couldn’t track the speed he moved. Nor did Match move fast enough to get out of the girl's way when she went to dodge. 

The man got the woman with both of his meaty hands. He squeezed at her waist and she ordered him to let her go. His muscles and body looked to swell the longer he held her. His uniform threatened to tear at the seams.

He cackled as he shook her like a toy. “You're gonna be my little hostage.”

What should I do? I can't fight him, he's huge. He was bigger than most body builders, muscles the size of Matchbook's head. 

When he got close enough to her face, she threw a punch. It connected with his nose, making him coil back and cuss.

She whined as he squeezed tighter. 

He might kill her. Matchbook thought, his heart pounded in his head, along with a giant whistle from farther behind him. What if it's another Villain? He didn't want to turn around and find out. 

I don't know her. He heard the woman whine out again as the man laughed, ignoring Matchbook's pathetic presence completely. 

He threw himself forward, snapping the fingers on his right hand, and moved his tiny flame near the villain's cape. It didn't take long for it to catch fire.

He jumped back and shouted, "OH NO, Your cape's on fire!"

The fire spread faster than Matchbook expected, bringing that man's attention off the woman. She took her opportunity while being dropped to hit the hulking guy with a firm blow to his crotch.

The man hollered, weakly undoing his cape from the ground.

The whistling behind Matchbook got louder, he ran to her and got her arm. “Come on!”

She followed his tugging and the two could hear the villain getting up. “YOU BRATS!” He shouted. 

His feet pounded against the street like he grew with their fear, or at least Matchbooks. 

“TO YOUR RIGHT!” A voice yelled.

They ducked to the left as another being slammed into the paved streets. His palms collided with it first and he ran on his hands for a few extra feet, making humongous hawk wings that protruded from his bare back melted quickly and rejoined his flesh. The helmet clad, muscle ripped individual threw himself up and into a standing position. 

He stood much taller than the average hero, more the size of a villain. He dusted himself off, unscathed after his theatrical landing. He pressed a button on the side of his visor, staring directly at the woman and Matchbook, as them and the Villain were motionless during the escapade. His eyes were a vibrant, shimmering purple with meshes of pink. 

He walked calmly to them.

“Are you two citizens, alright?” His voice carried the same sweet sincerity as a grandmother who happily overfed her grandchildren. 

Match nodded.

"The Hero! I need to talk to you." She declared, forgetting about the trouble behind them. Not that Matchbook was any better.

The villain snapped out of his trance. Matchbook didn’t look back in time for the hunched man to hook his arm around his neck. He brought him up, “you stay back or I’ll kill him,” He flexed his much smaller muscles. Dangled up, unable to move out of fear that the grip would crush his windpipe, he felt small and helpless.

The Hero put up his hands and didn’t move. “Put him down.” He advised, keeping his eyes tracked on Match. I gotta do something.

Matchbook snapped his fingers again and put the flame to the man’s arm. He had never used it against someone like this, but he didn’t see much choice. The man cried out, dropped him, and the Hero snatched Matchbook up and brought him to the woman. 

“Is your throat okay?”

Once Matchbook was safely on the ground, he rubbed it. “I’m okay.” He was lucky the Villain didn’t put too much pressure on it.

The Hero sighed with relief, “good. Now, you two, stay back.” His eyes shifted, though his head barely turned. His pupils looked to expand as they twisted in the villains direction. “I’ll handle the villain.” The tonal shift made him jump.

The Hero’s face rose in a smile, revealing sharp incisors that Match didn’t see before. The wrestler, or villain dressed as one looked thinner. Matchbook didn’t know if it was because he was being compared to the Hero, or because of something with his ability. 

“You destroyed property, attempted robbery, and threatened a civilian’s life.” The Hero’s voice boomed, silencing everyone's hearts and breath. His statement was followed by an air vibrating laughter. 

It knocked the man on his butt. His muscles were reduced so much that he looked like he had been starving for two weeks in the tundra. 

“I’m sorry- I’ll g-go quietly.” 

The Hero grabbed his helmet, he tossed it off. It bounced on the floor like a toy as his own size increased. His white hair flourished in the open. 

“You’ll go quietly?” The Hero mocked as he swayed like a drunkard. 

The fear-stricken villain tried to rise to his feet, he bumbled to stand. 

The Hero stood over him, crouched down to grab him. He got the villain picking him up with one hand, wrapping it around his waist. 

“They’re never quiet.” 

The villain pushed desperately at his hand as the steadily growing Hero brought him close to his head.

Matchbook’s eyes couldn't look away when The Hero's mouth opened wide. It made the villain frantically yell, and it was quickly silenced by The Hero's tongue at his face. It partially coiled around the man's head before bringing him inside his maw.

Matchbook’s mind was blank. He could only watch The Hero swallow down the villain, his throat expanding as he did, and what was left outside flailing helplessly in the air.

The act disturbingly reminded him of a nature film, where a snake slowly, surely, and efficiently gulped down its prey. 

Except this man was very much alive. He kept struggling even though he was pretty much fully inside him. 

Match didn't know how long he watched. It felt prolonged but in reality it took a minute. The last bit of the villain vanished and The Hero exhaled into the air afterward.

The Hero’s previous devilish demeanor dropped and he smiled, childishly. He glanced down at his middle, "Secured.” He said a loud, while his midsection was lively from the movement within it. “Calm down, Villain, I'll take you in soon."

Villains eat people. Not Heroes. Matchbook thought still awestruck by disbelief. 

His shoulders then rose when he saw The Hero was walking to him again.

The woman's voice, slightly perturbed, but determined to talk to him rushed forward, "YOU'RE GOING TO ANSWER MY QUESTIONS THIS TIME!" She bravely stomped to him, disregarding the massive height difference between them now. She barely came up to his knee, if at all. 

She got within a few feet of him, so his stomach wouldn't obscure either of them from seeing the other. How can she even talk to him like that? Did she not see him eat someone? Does she not see the human-like shape inside him?

Matchbook took the opportunity to start walking backward from the madness.

The Hero put up his hands, as if she held power over him and his smile wavered anxiously. “I think you have mistaken me for someone else…” He poked at his stomach, “and even if I was the right one, I need to finish talking to my sidekick and get this criminal to the authorities.” 

“Sidekick?”

The Hero looked over at Matchbook and so did the woman, he froze once they did. Why are they looking at me? Why is The Hero looking at me!

Matchbook hunched inward, afraid of the approach. He stumbled over the curve and The Hero loomed over him. He dropped into a squat, used to the moving weight, and harmlessly smiled at Match. 

They were nearly level with one another—it didn't stop Matchbook's eyes from continuing to trail away from his face. 

“I saw your heroics while I was overhead trying to find this dastardly Villain.” Matchbook didn't need The Hero to gesture anything. “You did great.”

His hand reached out to pat Match’s head. The best he could do was tap it with his finger tips. “Are you another hero’s sidekick in training?”

He heard his question, his attention was too drawn to the woman who willingly tugged at the pant leg of his stretchy costume. Why is she okay with this? It’s not like he hadn’t heard about another person getting eaten but never had he seen it outside of shows. 

“HELLO?” The Hero waved his giant hand before Match’s face. “You didn’t get hurt did you?” 

The concern shoved Matchbook from his thoughts. “N-no.” His brain processed everything that had been said. “To both questions.” 

The Hero’s hands slammed onto the ground, eagerly. “That’s perfect!” His hand came up and grabbed Matchbook before he could react. “I’m in desperate need of a new sidekick!” The Hero, leaving little room for Match to rebuttal, threw him over his shoulder and held his hand over him securely. 

What is he doing?! Matchbook could barely wheeze out a, “huh,” as the ground was farther from him. 

“Don’t you dare run off again!” She said, as The Hero hunched back down, his body tensing as he did. 

“Now, citizen, please stand back.” 

The Hero nudged her with his leg and she complained further. “Quit it!” 

Matchbook’s vocabulary returned, “Hold on, I didn’t agree to be your-” The next thing he knew, the air was knocked out of him as they shot upward. Matchbook couldn’t hold in his scream as the contents of his lunch threatened to come back up.

He sealed his lips, still held and feeling the incredible force against his body. His eyes, barely open, saw the beautiful city they flew over. Something he would have admired if he was looking at it through a computer screen on the GROUND. 

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, clutching as hard as he could into The Hero’s flesh. Please, please, PLEASE put me down nicely!

The wind whistling fast past his eardrums slowly dissipated and he finally heard The Hero’s voice. “Whoops, I overshot the docks again!” 

He opened his eyes, squinting, as they were across the water. The docks were in the distance and they were flying much slower now.

“Just fly us back there! You have wings!” Matchbook whimpered, still clutching what he could.

The Hero laughed, “Ha, you’re right!” Then the force shifted and Matchbook felt his body being pulled upward, away from him as they were falling. “How do I do that again?”

“WHAT!” Matchbook shouted. They were rapidly approaching the water.

The Hero twisted himself and Matchbook in the air, He swung Matchbook in front of him, pushed him with whatever force he could, and got his back ready to strike the water. 

And the last thing Match saw before they struck was The Hero mouthing the word, ‘sorry’.

…

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

Next Chapter

Catch up, see some art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 

I Got Roped Into Being A Hero!

[invisibleraven]

"the world wouldn't be this bright without you, you know?" Reggie & anyone?

Alex entered the studio, noting that Luke had done a somewhat decent job decorating; banners, balloons, and some streamers all around the place. Bobby had snacks laid out on the table, mostly made by Celia, but there was also some chips and soda as well.

Alex himself had a gift bag and the cake, laying both down. They were ready. "Alright, time to go get the birthday boy."

"Problem," Bobby said. "I called his house and he's not there."

"Well that's not surprising," Luke commented wryly. "You try his pager?"

"No answer," Bobby replied.

"Well I guess we should go look for him. Can't really have a birthday party without Reggie," Luke said.

"I'll stay here in case he comes back," Bobby volunteered. "Or if he calls, I can answer the phone."

"I'll search the boardwalk and the arcade," Luke offered.

"Well at least when you get lost I'll know where to look," Alex snarked, grinning even as Luke stuck his tongue out at him. "I'll look at the pier and at the beach, those are his usual haunts."

"Meet back here in an hour if we don't have any luck?" Bobby proposed. They nodded and broke off, Luke to his bike, and Alex in his car, cruising down to Silver Lake.

He wasn't surprised to find Reggie sitting amongst the dunes, staring out to the waves, paying no heed to the happy families playing around him. Alex slumped down next to him, eyes on the horizon. "Hey Reg."

Reggie grunted in response, chin resting on his knees, hugging his legs to his chest.

"They forgot."

"Who?"

Reggie gestured to his house, sitting back beyond the road, and suddenly Alex understood. "Man, fuck them."

"I reminded them and my dad... he told me that maybe it would be better if I'd never..." whatever else Reggie was going to say was lost to sobbing, Reggie's face buried in his arms.

Alex froze for a moment. For all his problems with his parents, they had never said anything so cruel. And well, Alex had a thicker skin, so their insults didn't slay him so. But Reggie was sensitive-all heart, and his parents hatred had yet to stamp that out.

"What do they know?" Alex asked. "The world wouldn't be this bright without you, you know?"

Reggie sniffled, lifting his head, giving a weak smile. "You mean that?"

"Have I ever lied to you?" Alex asked, and before Reggie could list off all the occurrences of Alex being less than honest, pressed on. "About anything important?"

"No," Reggie admitted, his voice small. "It still hurt though."

"Of course it fucking did, he's your dad, he's supposed to love you, support you. Celebrate you. You're worth ten of him," Alex stated.

"You're a good friend Alex," Reggie said, eyes back at the ocean. "But I don't really feel like celebrating now. Sorry to ruin the party."

"Who said anything about a party?"

Reggie shot his a sideways glance. "Please, Luke can't keep a secret to save his life."

"Fucking Luke," Alex swore. "Okay, how about this; we go play some games at the arcade and then we can go back to the studio where there just happens to be snacks and cake and gifts?"

"That sounds good," Reggie admitted.

Alex pulled out his pager and sent the others a message, then helped Reggie up from the sand, dusting them both off. "Come on birthday boy, let's go show Pac Man who's boss."

Reggie grinned and took off over the beach. Sure, nothing was solved, those words from his dad were still swirling around his brain. But it felt good to have friends who cared about him so much, and who were genuinely happy that he was here.

Plus he knew Alex had made the cake, something he only did for someone he loved, and for that, Reggie would always be grateful. After a few games of Pac Man of course.

[luckyshotwrites]

Chapter 1 - Kidnapped by The Hero

Contents (Warnings/Mild spoilers): Introducing Matchbook and how he became a sidekick to one of the strongest hero in the world.

Wordcount: 3,300+

Side note: ENJOY!

_______________________________________________

Some believed everyone's sudden gain in unique powers or features was due to the next step in evolution. Others said it was a crazy attempt at making a zombie apocalypse. The work of gods, a meteor that changed their biology, or the results of a secret alien invasion.

No one really had an answer. As far as everyone knew, it just happened. 

It sent the world into chaos, and it took a long time for it to be calm again. Not that it was without turmoil, but they had systems in place for that. All mighty heroes watching over the cities all over the world, helping take down those that decided to use their powers against the less fortunate like...

"Hey, Match, can you give me a light before you go?" The grungy, pot bellied guy with a toucan head said as he wiggled the cigar in front of him. 

You can't even use them right.

"Sure," Matchbook sighed as he let go of the sandwich shop's back door. The heavy weight of it slammed it shut behind him.

He put his fingers together and in a single snap they created a flame atop his middle finger. He offered it to Little Oscar's cancer stick. 

Little Oscar chortled the best he could and lifted his cigar to meet it. "I get it, you hate me asking." He jested, poking fun at the lad. 

"It's the easiest finger to light," he explained  and saw himself explaining hundreds of more times in the future.

After Little Oscar lit it and nodded gratefully, holding it between his beak, Matchbook left. 

He shook his hand to put out the tiny flame. He couldn't make flames bigger than that of a match hence the nickname he had since elementary school. 

He wasn't as gifted as his parents or sister. His mom was a fire manipulator and conjurer, while his dad could heal from injuries at a near instantaneous rate. And his little sister was a fire breather. 

She created sparks much like their mom, except in her mouth. They learned this when she accidentally sneezed as a kid and set Matchbook on fire. 

On the same day, he learned he was immune to heat, just like his mom and sister.

He kicked up a pebble as he strode the sidewalk. He struck it as much as he could on his way home, avoiding the construction specialist setup repairing a damaged city block from a recent villain attack. Most people didn't have too many powerful abilities, but those that did didn't hesitate to make a mess. 

He lost the poor pebble on the way when he kicked it into the fresh and still drying cement. He picked up his pace after that.

It was a long hour walk before he saw his apartment in the distance. If I still had my bike I'd get home so much faster. He recently lost it during a jelly Villain attack and the collateral claim had yet to go through for a replacement. I should move closer. 

Matchbook worked at that shop for a year and enjoyed the mundane task of making sandwiches. It made it easy and gave him time to think about-

"HEY!" A feminine voice shouted far behind him. 

He thought about looking back until a nearby  RuuMmbBBleEe of the destruction told him to head home instead. He subtly picked up the pace. I'm not getting caught outside during a fight. 

"HEY, SIR!"

Sir. I'm barely 22. He pretended he didn't hear them but they were getting closer. He wasn't good at power walking. I can't break out into a full sprint.

A hand firmly gripped Match's left arm to seize his motion.

Oh great. He turned around, holding a forced friendly half smile like he wasn't trying to ignore them a second ago. 

“Oh sorry, I didn't…” He trailed off. 

She let out an exasperated huff in front of him and hunched over to catch her breath. The parts of her blond bob cut hair that didn’t stick to her face from sweat fell forward as she did. 

It wasn't that hot outside, it was a crisp cool sixty degrees, with a light breeze through the buildings. Has she been chasing me for a while? I didn't hear her. 

His eyes drifted to the notepad in her one hand, and as she lifted her head, she smiled. Her glimmering determination reminded him of his little sister.

“Are you alright?” 

She nodded, stood up straight, and adjusted her white blouse. “Yes, sorry, sir.” Do I really look that old? You look the same age as me!  “I’ve been chasing The Hero around all day, and lost him, have you seen him?” 

“Which one?” He mentally kicked himself when he asked. Why did I ask which one? I hadn’t seen a hero all day. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, “this always happens. Why did he pick such a vapid name?” She removed her hand from her nose, “The Hero is his superhero name.” Matchbook heard the hint of disdain for that hero's name. Although he recognized it, he didn't keep track of any other hero's besides his mother and sister.

She rolled up her sleeves, unintentionally drawing his attention to her forearms. He took note of her muscles. More defined than I ever had. She’s in pretty good shape for a journalist? If that’s what she is.

He guessed by her question and notepad. 

“He's one of the strongest heroes in the world, the one who..." she curled her fist, and much like an elderly man complaining about his lawn, shook it at the sky. "Somehow has a backstory that can’t be traced back past surface level research. A person born with a power like him would have been talked about for years, glorified in the media, but it’s like he appeared out of thin air."

She continued her spiel and Matchbook bobbed his head, trying to think of the best way to get out of this conversation. He didn’t know this woman, he barely said a sentence to her and she explained all the inconsistencies with The Hero’s story. I’m not big into hero scandals. 

Regardless, Matchbook politely replied. "It sounds like you have a vendetta against him." I want to go home and relax, no matter how nice you seem.

"I do." She held up her notepad, "I have been chasing that idiot all over the city! So again, have you-" There was another loud bang, and turning back, the two could see the furrow of smoke not that far away. "seen him…?"

He glanced back at her. She looked ready to run toward it.

She's going to get herself hurt. He tugged her attention back, "I haven't, but by the sounds of it, if you don’t live nearby you should get to a shelter.” I noticed the few people on the streets were doing just that. There wasn't one that far from my apartment.

"No way, it might be linked to the hero!" If she’s willing to run into danger, she probably has a power to back herself up. 

He lifted his hand and the next eruption stole his chance to say goodbye. On the fifth floor, overhead, an object crashed straight through the building and partially into the one next to it. They both instinctually ducked at the noise, Matchbook covered his head and saw whatever the object was, it brought some of the second wall down with it and landed in the alley a little bit further back from where they currently stood. 

The woman’s arm whipped up and grabbed at his shirt. She got him by his uniform and yanked him into her. She threw them both back. Neither of them fell, only stumbled as a few pieces of the apartment came down. They fell into the sidewalk where he once stood, exploding into dust upon impact near his shoes. 

That wouldn’t have been a fun trip to the hospital. 

The streets were empty, everyone either got home or went to a shelter. He looked up, seeing that was his apartment. So, unfortunately, he didn't have a room to hide in. He ran around her, expecting to hear her steps behind him. She didn’t follow.

You gotta be kidding me. “Lady, we should get to a shelter! If there’s a villain we can get hurt!” He wasn’t quite running yet—he was slowly moving toward the direction of the shelter a few blocks away. 

She ignored him. She went toward the alley. What is she doing! 

He followed her. His objective was to pull her like she did him. 

Matchbook barely caught her whisper. “Which hero is that?”

He felt his eyes drawn to the entity standing there. The man was in a luchador wrestling outfit, adorned with a sparkling cape. Though, Matchbook tore his eyes away as it looked very very ‘form fitting’ bright red suit. That's a colorful outfit, he's probably some hero?

The man smiled, leaned at them, and threw himself forward and into the woman. Matchbook couldn’t track the speed he moved. Nor did Match move fast enough to get out of the girl's way when she went to dodge. 

The man got the woman with both of his meaty hands. He squeezed at her waist and she ordered him to let her go. His muscles and body looked to swell the longer he held her. His uniform threatened to tear at the seams.

He cackled as he shook her like a toy. “You're gonna be my little hostage.”

What should I do? I can't fight him, he's huge. He was bigger than most body builders, muscles the size of Matchbook's head. 

When he got close enough to her face, she threw a punch. It connected with his nose, making him coil back and cuss.

She whined as he squeezed tighter. 

He might kill her. Matchbook thought, his heart pounded in his head, along with a giant whistle from farther behind him. What if it's another Villain? He didn't want to turn around and find out. 

I don't know her. He heard the woman whine out again as the man laughed, ignoring Matchbook's pathetic presence completely. 

He threw himself forward, snapping the fingers on his right hand, and moved his tiny flame near the villain's cape. It didn't take long for it to catch fire.

He jumped back and shouted, "OH NO, Your cape's on fire!"

The fire spread faster than Matchbook expected, bringing that man's attention off the woman. She took her opportunity while being dropped to hit the hulking guy with a firm blow to his crotch.

The man hollered, weakly undoing his cape from the ground.

The whistling behind Matchbook got louder, he ran to her and got her arm. “Come on!”

She followed his tugging and the two could hear the villain getting up. “YOU BRATS!” He shouted. 

His feet pounded against the street like he grew with their fear, or at least Matchbooks. 

“TO YOUR RIGHT!” A voice yelled.

They ducked to the left as another being slammed into the paved streets. His palms collided with it first and he ran on his hands for a few extra feet, making humongous hawk wings that protruded from his bare back fizzle out and back into their flesh. The helmet clad, muscle ripped individual threw himself up and into a standing position. 

He stood much taller than the average hero, more the size of a villain. He dusted himself off, unscathed after his theatrical landing. He pressed a button on the side of his visor, staring directly at the woman and Matchbook, as them and the Villain were motionless during the escapade. His eyes were a vibrant, shimmering purple with meshes of pink. 

He walked calmly to them.

“Are you two citizens, alright?” His voice carried the same sweet sincerity as a grandmother who happily overfed her grandchildren. 

Match nodded.

"The Hero! I need to talk to you." She declared, forgetting about the trouble behind them. Not that Matchbook was any better.

The villain snapped out of his trance. Matchbook didn’t look back in time for the hunched man to hook his arm around his neck. He brought him up, “you stay back or I’ll kill him,” He flexed his much smaller muscles. Dangled up, unable to move out of fear that the grip would crush his windpipe, he felt small and helpless.

The Hero put up his hands and didn’t move. “Put him down.” He advised, keeping his eyes tracked on Match. I gotta do something.

Matchbook snapped his fingers again and put the flame to the man’s arm. He had never used it against someone like this, but he didn’t see much choice. The man cried out, dropped him, and the Hero snatched Matchbook up and brought him to the woman. 

“Is your throat okay?”

Once Matchbook was safely on the ground, he rubbed it. “I’m okay.” He was lucky the Villain didn’t put too much pressure on it.

The Hero sighed with relief, “good. Now, you two, stay back.” His eyes shifted, though his head barely turned. His pupils looked to expand as they twisted in the villains direction. “I’ll handle the villain.” The tonal shift made him jump.

The Hero’s face rose in a smile, revealing sharp incisors that Match didn’t see before. The wrestler, or villain dressed as one looked thinner. Matchbook didn’t know if it was because he was being compared to the Hero, or because of something with his ability. 

“You destroyed property, attempted robbery, and threatened a civilian’s life.” The Hero’s voice boomed, silencing everyone's hearts and breath. His statement was followed by an air vibrating laughter. 

It knocked the man on his butt. His muscles were reduced so much that he looked like he had been starving for two weeks in the tundra. 

“I’m sorry- I’ll g-go quietly.” 

The Hero grabbed his helmet, he tossed it off. It bounced on the floor like a toy as his own size increased. His white hair flourished in the open. 

“You’ll go quietly?” The Hero mocked as he swayed like a drunkard. 

The fear-stricken villain tried to rise to his feet, he bumbled to stand. 

The Hero stood over him, crouched down to grab him. He got the villain picking him up with one hand, wrapping it around his waist. 

“They’re never quiet.” 

The villain pushed desperately at his hand as the steadily growing Hero brought him close to his head.

Matchbook’s eyes couldn't look away when The Hero's mouth opened wide. It made the villain frantically yell, and it was quickly silenced by The Hero's tongue at his face. It partially coiled around the man's head before bringing him inside his maw.

Matchbook’s mind was blank. He could only watch The Hero swallow down the villain, his throat expanding as he did, and what was left outside flailing helplessly in the air.

The act disturbingly reminded him of a nature film, where a snake slowly, surely, and efficiently gulped down its prey. 

Except this man was very much alive. He kept struggling even though he was pretty much fully inside him. 

Match didn't know how long he watched. It felt prolonged but in reality it took a minute. The last bit of the villain vanished and The Hero exhaled into the air afterward.

The Hero’s previous devilish demeanor dropped and he smiled, childishly. He glanced down at his middle, "Secured.” He said a loud, while his midsection was lively from the movement within it. “Calm down, Villain, I'll take you in soon."

Villains eat people. Not Heroes. Matchbook thought still awestruck by disbelief. 

His shoulders then rose when he saw The Hero was walking to him again.

The woman's voice, slightly perturbed, but determined to talk to him rushed forward, "YOU'RE GOING TO ANSWER MY QUESTIONS THIS TIME!" She bravely stomped to him, disregarding the massive height difference between them now. She barely came up to his knee, if at all. 

She got within a few feet of him, so his stomach wouldn't obscure either of them from seeing the other. How can she even talk to him like that? Did she not see him eat someone? Does she not see the human-like shape inside him?

Matchbook took the opportunity to start walking backward from the madness.

The Hero put up his hands, as if she held power over him and his smile wavered anxiously. “I think you have mistaken me for someone else…” He poked at his stomach, “and even if I was the right one, I need to finish talking to my sidekick and get this criminal to the authorities.” 

“Sidekick?”

The Hero looked over at Matchbook and so did the woman, he froze once they did. Why are they looking at me? Why is The Hero looking at me!

Matchbook hunched inward, afraid of the approach. He stumbled over the curve and The Hero loomed over him. He dropped into a squat, used to the moving weight, and harmlessly smiled at Match. 

They were nearly level with one another—it didn't stop Matchbook's eyes from continuing to trail away from his face. 

“I saw your heroics while I was overhead trying to find this dastardly Villain.” Matchbook didn't need The Hero to gesture anything. “You did great.”

His hand reached out to pat Match’s head. The best he could do was tap it with his finger tips. “Are you another hero’s sidekick in training?”

He heard his question, his attention was too drawn to the woman who willingly tugged at the pant leg of his stretchy costume. Why is she okay with this? It’s not like he hadn’t heard about another person getting eaten but never had he seen it outside of shows. 

“HELLO?” The Hero waved his giant hand before Match’s face. “You didn’t get hurt did you?” 

The concern shoved Matchbook from his thoughts. “N-no.” His brain processed everything that had been said. “To both questions.” 

The Hero’s hands slammed onto the ground, eagerly. “That’s perfect!” His hand came up and grabbed Matchbook before he could react. “I’m in desperate need of a new sidekick!” The Hero, leaving little room for Match to rebuttal, threw him over his shoulder and held his hand over him securely. 

What is he doing?! Matchbook could barely wheeze out a, “huh,” as the ground was farther from him. 

“Don’t you dare run off again!” She said, as The Hero hunched back down, his body tensing as he did. 

“Now, citizen, please stand back.” 

The Hero nudged her with his leg and she complained further. “Quit it!” 

Matchbook’s vocabulary returned, “Hold on, I didn’t agree to be your-” The next thing he knew, the air was knocked out of him as they shot upward. Matchbook couldn’t hold in his scream as the contents of his lunch threatened to come back up.

He sealed his lips, still held and feeling the incredible force against his body. His eyes, barely open, saw the beautiful city they flew over. Something he would have admired if he was looking at it through a computer screen on the GROUND. 

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, clutching as hard as he could into The Hero’s flesh. Please, please, PLEASE put me down nicely!

The wind whistling fast past his eardrums slowly dissipated and he finally heard The Hero’s voice. “Whoops, I overshot the docks again!” 

He opened his eyes, squinting, as they were across the water. The docks were in the distance and they were flying much slower now.

“Just fly us back there! You have wings!” Matchbook whimpered, still clutching what he could.

The Hero laughed, “Ha, you’re right!” Then the force shifted and Matchbook felt his body being pulled upward, away from him as they were falling. “How do I do that again?”

“WHAT!” Matchbook shouted. They were rapidly approaching the water.

The Hero twisted himself and Matchbook in the air, He swung Matchbook in front of him, pushed him with whatever force he could, and got his back ready to strike the water. 

And the last thing Match saw before they struck was The Hero mouthing the word, ‘sorry’.

…

THANK YOU FOR READING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY!

Next Chapter

Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 

I Got Roped Into Being A Hero! (Synopsis/Chapter List)

[angelguk]

→ on my mind 02 — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 25.6k

genre: domestic!au + established relationship + fluff + smut + mild angst

warnings: slow build / oral sex (f & m receiving) / multiple smut scenes / over-stimulation / breeding kink / creampies / mentions of infertility / pregnancy is a central part of the story line / pregnancy sex / jeongguk just wants to be a good dad / i am so sorry if the editing is not up to par i tried my best / mild possessiveness / mentions of misogyny and an asshole manager

soundtracks: (they long to be) close to you, carpenters + to you, yoona & lee sang soon + someone’s shining, wisue + who knew, chloe x halle, + but i’m trying to tell you how much i love you, saevom + pretend, lee aram + when the wind blows, yoona + meet me in amsterdam, rini + she, jannabi

special thanks to: @gukkheaven for seeing the baby version of this fic <3 / @a-life-thats-next-to-normal for sharing some much needed baby info with me!

header credit @dee-ehn <3

read the first part here

The first time you buy a test, you don’t tell him.

It’s a Thursday afternoon and you arrive home first. Jeongguk had texted you that he would be late today because Namjoon needed him to work overtime on a file that was due. You had taken the rare opportunity to scurry to your local chemist and purchase a handful of pregnancy tests. You’d dumped the pink boxes on the counter, trying in vain to avoid the blatant stare of the cashier as she packaged them into a small black bag. The trek back home nerve-racking. Your heart pounding painfully against your chest, the scruff of your sneakers against the pavement the only accompaniment to the tension you felt weighing over your body. It was only when you had passed a playground, eyes skimming over the hordes of children joyously dandling from monkey bars and slipping down sliders with wide grins on their faces, did your heart momentarily calm down. Lulled by the sound of their laughter until your pulse was relaxed once more.

You could do this — it’s just a test.

The apartment is eerily silent when you click the door closed behind you. You heel your shoes off, sliding your feet into the downy slippers Jeongguk had picked up for you a while back. You dump the bag on the dining table, hands shaking as you dig for your phone in your bag. Your fingers tap on the familiar pink app on your screen and you read the text that you’ve been subtly denying for the past week. Your period is late. Sometimes you miss a day or two but a whole nine days had passed and mother nature hadn’t sent you the usual reminder that indicated that you were not with child.

For some reason, the words sent a thrill through your body. It wasn’t like you were taking precautions to avoid pregnancy - quite the opposite. Ever since Jeongguk had admitted his secret wish to you, you’d both taken every opportunity to make sure you’d get knocked up. Most of the apartment had been rechristened during those activities, particularly the couch. The moment you’d told him you wouldn’t mind carrying his child a spark of desire had reignited in Jeongguk that you hadn’t seen since you started dating five years ago.

But for some reason, nothing was working the way you’d expected it to be. With Jeongguk’s new robust sex drive, you expected to be pregnant within a month tops. Yet, your period appeared each month without fail and it hurt to see the doubt creep onto his face every time he brought you a hot water bottle to lessen the cramps wreaking havoc in your stomach. For a while, you thought you were infertile. You considered taking up the issue with your doctor but it was hard to acknowledge that you may be. That either of you may be. Not when both of you wanted this so bad.

The fact that your period had been missing for a significant amount of time in your perspective was both thrilling and alarming at the same time.

When you finally pick up one of the pregnancy tests, you take your time, reading over the instructions. Three times exactly. One-line means not pregnant, two lines indicate that you are. Not hard, right?

In the bathroom, you struggle to pee. Your hand is trembling as you hold the collection cup and your flow is unsteady despite the two bottles of water you’d chugged on the train ride home once Jeongguk told you he’d be late. Things work out, regardless of your nerves.

Once everything is done, your hands are clean and the two pregnancy tests you’d unwrapped are sitting flat on the counter of your bathroom, you fiddle with the timer app on your phone, setting it to five minutes.

Those are the longest five minutes of your life.

You leave the bathroom, unable to look before the set time, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. You can’t sit, so you pace around, slippers slapping the hardwood floorboards as you try to attempt to calm yourself down but fail miserably at it because the clock hanging in the living room is ticking too loud; it echoes in your head matching the beats of the seconds you’re mentally counting down. Outside of your apartment, someone’s shouting a passing greeting across the street, there’s the tickle of a bike bell and a gruff woof echoing from the throat of a dog. The sounds of life outside the panic bubble you’re currently in draws you to the window. You pad over, lean down to rest your elbows against the sill as your eyes take in the sight of the evening sun dipping behind the silhouettes of buildings. The sky bleeds orange and red, bright fuchsia pink and cornflower blue trailing behind their wake like silage. The view is partially obscured by murky grey clouds but beyond them, you can still spot the lavender tone the two colours create when they flux into each other.

The sight slows down your heartbeat, a sense of tranquillity washing over your body as if you’d been dipped into the ocean. It reminds you of the sea view both of you had left behind when you’d moved to Seoul four years ago. You can’t help but slip into a reverie, nose full of the ghost-like remnants of salty air, the sand you’d played in as a child a phantom caressing the soles of your feet. The sunsets in Busan were better but Seoul is where Jeongguk and you had crafted life together, even if you sometimes wished you had never left your hometown at all.

The alarm going off in the bathroom yanks you right back into your quaint little apartment. You take a deep breath and then rise. Your knees wobble as you walk to the bathroom, a sheen of sweat building in the palms of your hands. The sudden urge to just get this over with steadies your steps until you’re standing before the counter again, staring at your reflection in the mirror. There are dark bags underneath your eyes and your face carries the worries of the day. You look worn and you feel it too. Coupled with the extra pressure of trying and failing to get pregnant, there’s so much on your back right now it feels as if it’s bent over. You sigh, eyes still refusing to falter and look downwards at the results on your counter.

It takes you a moment to gather the courage to pluck up the first test.

Your breath is trapped in your throat and your eyes suddenly feel hot and wet. Your vision blurs up and your hands are shaking but even despite the tears falling down your cheeks, you can see the results.

It’s one line. Negative.

The other one reads the same and all you can do is try to remember how to breathe as you roughly wipe away your tears. Your hands are trembling as you wrap up and dispose of the two tests, shoving them into the trash before you pile more tissue on top of it, wishing you could hide from the shame you feel too. The black bag with the other tests gets tucked behind your pads in the cupboard. Jeongguk won’t question that, so it's the safest place to store it.

You head to the shower next, allowing the rushing water to sweep away the dried tear stains on your face, hoping it erases the crushing feeling of disappointment sitting on your chest too. But it doesn’t and even as you move around the kitchen to make dinner, your actions seem slow, languid in a bad way, held down by the fact that no matter what you can’t seem to get pregnant.

Jeongguk knows right away something is off.

He came home late as he said he would, pressed a kiss to your cheek and muttered a small greeting before heading to the shower. When he emerged once more in grey sweats and a worn white t-shirt, he’d plopped himself down at the dining table, gave you a quiet once over and then opened his mouth to gently say, “Your eyes are red.”

“Bad day at work,” you lie, placing a bowl of rice before him.

“Seungmin?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

You fall into a silence that should be comfortable but it isn’t. Every time you glance up Jeongguk is staring at you with a worried expression that makes your heart heavy. Even between bites of food, you can see his brain working, mulling over a way to make you feel better. Which sucks because Jeongguk shouldn’t be worrying about insignificant issues like this. He had a lot on his plate anyway. His extra hours at the office were taking a gradual toll on him. His eyes seemed hollower and he’d had to skip a couple of gym sessions so he didn’t even have his usual outlet for stress. There was a vein surfacing on his forehead and it pulsed every time he was thinking too hard about something. Like it was now. It hurt even more when you knew Jeongguk was putting all this stress on himself because he wanted to find a bigger place for his future family. The spare room you owned had long since been converted into his game room and he wasn’t about to give up that little luxury just yet. He was only taking on more responsibilities at the office because he believed that his future children deserve a place to run, play games, to just be a child. The image of the two negative tests linger before your vision and your heart breaks a little more because it feels like Jeongguk is working hard for something that’ll never become a reality.

He cleans up while you take your place on the couch. Even with the drone of the drama on the television and the clinking of dishes as Jeongguk washes up fills your apartment, you still can’t settle in and shake off the cloud that’s hanging above your head. When he does join you, Jeongguk lugs over the soft black blanket you’d whisked from Yoongi’s apartment, carrying his favourite bar of chocolate in his hands.

He shoves it in your direction, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “Here, take this.”

“Why? It’s yours.” But you clasp your fingers around the plastic wrapping, the warmth of his lips against your skin ebbing through you.

He shrugs, shifting against you so that your legs are thrown over his and the blanket covers both of your bodies. Beneath it, his large warm hand searches for yours, latching around your fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze. “Take it. You said you had a bad day and chocolate always makes you feel better, doesn’t it?”

The corners of your mouth are lifting upwards as you tear the package open. It's mint flavoured. Jeongguk always had an affinity towards sweet mint flavoured things, and the chocolate melts on your tongue with ease. Slowly, the tension within you abates, your mind vaguely focusing on the screen before you, Jeongguk’s warm firm body burning beside you. You melt into him, breaking off pieces of chocolate and nudging them against his mouth until he parts his lips and allows you to drop them inside. His tongue trails against your fingertips despite the ‘gross’ you mutter into the evening air. All he does is laugh and pull you closer, brushing another swift kiss on your cheek. You settle against him, resting your head against the curve of his shoulder before the drama takes your attention. One of the characters had made a joke and the rise of Jeongguk’s chest beneath your head as he laughs calms you down so much that you can’t help but laugh too.

The evening winds down in this manner. Jeongguk unknowingly melting away the tension that had built up within you with each soft smile and laugh that he gives you as he talks about his day over the voices of the actors on screen. You listen intently, hoping you can take away some of his stress too until you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. He gently shakes you awake, taking your hand to guide you into bed where you promptly collapse between the sheets. You can hear his footsteps as he moves around, checking the doors and switching the lights off, but your mind feels foggy and your eyes are heavy.

When he settles in beside you, shirtless and having tucked away from the semi you don’t know he’s sporting, your breaths are slow and slumber is slipping over you. His arm finds its way over your waist and his chest is plastered against your back. You’re about to fall asleep, the dark deep wonders of rest right on the edge of your vision but you’re wiggling around, slotting the curve of your ass against Jeongguk’s crotch and that’s when you instantly wake up.

His erection is nudging against your ass and you can tell he’s still awake from the rise and fall of his chest behind you. He thinks you’re still sleeping because he doesn’t say anything, just trails a finger against the curve of your hips. The touch warms you even through the fabric of your pyjamas. But you’re suddenly on edge again, the negative tests flashing before your eyes. You were going to book an appointment with the doctor soon but would it hurt to try one more time before you did so? It really wouldn’t.

You wiggle against him harder, the growing curve of his cock against you eliciting a rush of slick from your cunt. When you grind into him, Jeongguk groans, a low rumble that slips from his throat. The grip on your hip draws taut. He knows you’re awake.

“If you keep doing that, we’re going to have a problem.”

You grin, hips still pushing backwards. “What if I’m willing to solve it?”

“I wouldn’t let you.”

You halt, ass still pressed against his crotch, the smile falling from your face and your arousal rapidly dissipating. Jeongguk’s pulling away before you can say anything, rising on his elbows so that he can look at you.

“I know Seungmin isn’t the reason why you were sad today. I saw the test boxes in the bathroom.”

It’s so quiet that you can hear the rush of blood filling your head. The tears you’d thought you’d run out of, reappear instantly, dripping down your cheeks. He wipes them away with a forlorn smile before shifting to wrap you in his warm arms. Your chest shudders with every breath you take but Jeongguk holds you together, whispering words of comfort against your ear.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” He holds you a little tighter when you start to hiccup against the crook of his neck, rubbing a large hand against your back.

When you finally calm down, you pull away, cheeks wet, to find that Jeongguk’s own eyes are tinged red too.

“Were they negative?” You nod, still, a little bit choked up. But then he smiles and moves to press a tepid kiss between your eyebrows. “Stop stressing. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“Getting pregnant shouldn’t be this hard. All I have to do is open my legs.”

“Hey,” He pats your damp cheek in chastisement. “Stop talking like that. You don’t have control over your body. Don’t blame yourself for things you can’t help. For all we know, this could be my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault.” You mutter. “I just - we’ve been trying for three months now and I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“We could go get checked. Both of us.” He’s pulling you closer again. “Don’t blame yourself, baby. Please.”

“I’m trying not to,” you whisper back, falling back into the comfort of his body. Jeongguk is like a pillar of strength for you, particularly when you feel like you have none left within you. And right now you don’t. But he holds you up, his hands caressing your skin softly, pushing off the worries that plague. You fall asleep like this, eyes crusty from crying and Jeongguk’s loving gaze watching over your features.

The next day, you book an appointment and try to ignore the nervous thoughts gnawing at your conscience.

Your period comes three days later and all that does is build on to the new feeling of resentment that you were developing against your uterus.

Jeongguk buys you your favourite chocolate, keeps your supply of hot water bottles going, cook’s dinner and tells you to stop worrying.

→

The late August afternoon sun warms your back as your drag Taehyung through the lake. You’ve got your arms wrapped around his neck in a playful choke-hold and despite his wild thrushes you manage to dunk him into the tepid lake water — retribution for what he did to you earlier. He’d shoved you right into the lake from atop some boulders, leaving you shocked and with water filling your nose for most of the afternoon. Somewhere in the background, you can hear Seokjin screaming at his twins because they’re copying your actions on each other and Jimin is hiding Bora from the two homicides about to take place in broad daylight.

You let go of Taehyung when he elbows you roughly and watch him rise to the surface, face tinged rose, but a good-natured boxy grin plastered on his features.

“If Jeongguk wouldn’t be able to beat my ass, I would end you Y/N,” he says.

You roll your eyes, playfully punching his arm. “Sure you would.”

Taehyung’s grin broadens. “I’m tempted to prove you wrong but you should get the boys before they murder each other.” He says before shaking his head. The droplets that fly from his mane obscure your vision so you twist around, waddling through the water, just in time to catch Minho body slam Minjoon into the water.

“Minho! You’re going to kill your brother!” Seokjin sounds beyond distressed, so on his behalf, you swim further into the water, and pull the two boys apart only to find them grinning wickedly at each other. They had just turned five and had reached the age where morbid violence was amusing instead of alarming.

“Boys, can we find something else to play instead? You’re going to send your father to an early grave.”

“What’s a grave?” Minjoon inquires, clinging to your waist as you haul them back to shore. Taehyung’s already out, meandering back to the cabins that belonged to Jimin’s affluent family. It was his idea to have a quick weekend getaway at the lake. He insisted that the kids needed to go out and play in the wild but he wanted to get everyone out of the house. The stress from work and studies were taking a huge toll on the relations within your group. You’d seen Yoongi and Namjoon argue for the first time in a while and it had been over whether Marvel was right in killing off Tony Stark. Yoongi had nearly thrown a plate at Namjoon’s head when he insisted that Tony deserved to die. That alone instantly made you agree to Jimin’s plan. You had to pack for Jeongguk too since he was swamped with work, another reason why everyone needed this mini vacation.

The man in question is nursing a beer by the grill, a languid grin on his face as he chats with Namjoon. The smile on his lips sends a rush of affection flooding through your heart because you hadn’t seen it for a while now. What with your uterus refusing to do its duty and the workload he was dealing with; you were glad he was taking a break now. He deserved it.

“A grave is where people go and sleep for a very long time,” You carefully respond, running a hand through Minho’s wet hair. They both have Seokjin’s bright eyes and the curiosity within them slightly unnerves you. “You should go ask your dad, he can explain it better.”

They shot off at that, sprinting to their father who’d given you a grateful smile when you’d dragged them out alive. Unfortunately, he was now trying to feed his third son Chansook, who was a stubborn eater according to his wife Seoyeon and coupled with the insistent pestering from the boys you could see him slowly going mad.

Instead of helping, as you should, to diffuse the situation, you head towards the kitchen, snatching up an oversized t-shirt on the way there. Seoyeon’s dashing from place to place, checking pots and pans with the help of Jimin’s wife Bora and Namjoon’s wife Eunbi. Yoongi and Hoseok take it upon themselves to cook the near twelve-packs of ramen needed to feed all the mouths present. You leave them to it, aware that Yoongi makes his ramen in a specific manner and you’d rather stay away than help him in case you ruined it. Seoyeon shoves a chopping board and some vegetables in your direction which you gladly take, settling beside Soomi.

“Is Bora outside?” She asks, slicing up a melon.

“Jimin’s got her. She’s fine.”

“Surprised she hasn’t cried yet. She hates being away from home for long periods.”

“Three days isn’t long,” You comment.

“It is in her world,” Soomi remarks, her laugh gentle. You glance at her, taking in the new wrinkles on her face due to being a mother and working at the same time. You don’t know how she handles it, especially because Soomi inherited her father’s dramatic and clingy traits. But even despite the stress, there’s a soft smile on her lips. You know she’s thinking about her child. The whole concept of infinite love that a mother possessed for her children was still lost upon you. You loved Jeongguk to the Sun and back but the love lingering on Soomi’s face at the simple thought of her baby was entirely different. Some part of you longed to know what that felt like.

“Can I ask a question?” You carefully pose, slicing the radishes Seoyeon handed you earlier.

“Go ahead.”

“How long did it take for you and Jimin to conceive?”

“With his stamina,” she scoffs, “Not long at all. I was pregnant by the end of our honeymoon. Why are you asking?” Her eyes are on you, shining with curiosity eerily similar to the twins’ gaze.

“No particular reason. Just curious.”

“Are you pregnant?” Her blatant question has your cheeks heated and you pray the rest of the occupants in the kitchen didn’t catch what she said.

“No,” you hastily reply. “I’m not. But we are trying.”

“Oh.” Soomi’s staring at you with a gaze you can’t decipher. “You don’t want to get married first?”

“We talked about that. We’re in no rush for marriage. We’re both it for each other as far as we’re concerned and a piece of paper won’t change how we feel about it. So we’ll skip out on marriage for the time being. Our parents know how we feel about marriage too. Even if they don’t exactly agree, it’s our relationship.” You make your tone firm on purpose. This question has been posed to you too many times, so the defence in your words is natural. But the look Soomi gives you is sharp enough to crack through the thin glass that constructs your resolve. Her gaze isn’t mean, but there’s a clear judgement in her eyes. She pauses, a gentle sigh slipping from her lips before she slowly opens her mouth.

“If that’s what you want, then do it. But I have to warn you, kids do shake up the picture quite a lot. Soomi taught me so much about Jimin already, things I would never have known about him. Some of them I didn’t like and others I loved and I bet she’s shown Jimin things about me that I never knew too. It’s a lot to have a kid and you need to make sure your relationship can handle the extra stress and responsibility you’re about to put on it.” She’s not looking at you, instead focusing on tying up her dark locks in a neat bun, but her last words linger in your head. “Don’t do something that might push you further away from each other. You love Jeongguk, but will you love him as a father when he messes up? Because he will. You’ll mess up a lot too. Parenting is one big learning curve that never stops curving. Even if you feel ready, Y/N, your relationship might not be.”

You move to interrupt her, a rebuttal resting on your tongue. But Soomi halts it, shooting you a glance that makes your heart halt.

“Have you thought about the pregnancy too? How your body will change? The mood swings, the morning sickness? How crappy you are going to feel? And for nine months too. That’s a lengthy time. Even with Soomi I was counting down the days until I hit the next week. I wanted it over and done with so bad if I’m being honest with you. Every pregnancy is different; I understand that — you might even be lucky and have a great one. But most aren’t a walk in the park. It’s a big commitment to make, with a lot of serious risks. Not that I want you to reconsider your choice, I just think you really need to think it through. Weigh the reasons you want this. You may want a kid right now but are you in the space to have one in nine months? That’s just something to keep in mind, Y/N. It’s not an easy thing, pregnancy or parenting.” She’s staring at you hard now, gaze earnest. “I just want you to consider that. You should talk to Jeongguk about it.”

You mumble a noise of agreement, your heart suddenly heavy in your chest. There’s a numbness that creeps from there, in the pit of darkness that now consumes the light that had once resided within you. You cut the ingredients they had you absentmindedly, Soomi’s words ringing in your head.

Even when dinner is set, memories and laughter have been cast across the table and everyone’s had their fill, you’re still mulling over Soomi’s advice. She was right, you hadn’t thought about the toll a child would take on the connection between you and Jeongguk. Or on you. You’d only focused on the happy little moments that would await you as new parents instead of the rough, ugly parts of the journey. There was a sudden panic gripping your soul instead of the familiar warmth you’d become accustomed to when you thought about having a child. Jeongguk had sensed there was something off with you too, because when you climbed into the sheets that night he’d wrapped you in a tight embrace, carefully resting your head upon his upper arm.

“Care to share what’s on your mind?” His voice is a whisper in the dead of the night, breath warming your forehead.

“It's nothing really. Just thinking about… the whole pregnancy thing?”

His body tenses. “Oh... The doctor said we’re fine though. Both healthy and fertile. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“No. Not that,” you retort, twisting in his arms. You tear yourself away, rising upright, the blanket falling from your bare shoulders. Jeongguk stares at you, eyes wide open and full of alarm. “Jeongguk.” There’s a tremor in your voice. “Do you — do you really think we’re ready for kids? I still work under a shitty manager. We live in a small apartment. You’re — you’re working so hard it’s practically killing you. We’re not even married—”

“Quit your job.” He says it firmly, rising up beside you. There’s a fire in his eyes that riles you further into the panic that’s overwhelming you.

“What are you even suggesting? I quit my job? So what? You can continue working yourself to the bone? Are you even thinking?”

“I am!” He slams back. “You hate your job, so quit! You’re talented and skilled and you deserve to work at a company that appreciates you! And where is this coming from? You don’t want to have kids anymore?” His voice faltering at the end, pandering out into the air that’s filled with tension.

“No. I — I want to Jeongguk. I just don’t know if this is the right time. There’s so much that’s not settled, we shouldn’t be straining ourselves any further.” Your throat is thick and your head is hot, unshed tears brimming within your eyes. He reaches out for your hand, rough large palms enclosing your own. You can’t look at him, staring hard at the wall instead, trying to swallow your sadness. “Maybe I’m not getting pregnant for a reason.”

“Don’t say that.” His voice cracks. “If you want to wait, that’s fine. Just know that you’re the only person I ever want to take that step with. Whether we’re married or not. I love you. I love you so much. I don’t want you to be sad about something that’s meant to make you happy. We can stop trying.” There’s a hand on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the hot tears that you weren't even aware of. When you finally look up, there’s pain glimmering behind his brown eyes and it shatters your heart into thousands of little shards.

He holds you as you cry, rocking your huddled figure lightly. His shirt is drenched in your sorrow, a growing wet stain spreading over his chest. There are hiccups stuck in your throat when you finally draw away, eyes hot and puffy. There’s matching wet stains on his own red cheeks. You brush them away, staring into his red eyes, hoping he can feel how sorry you are for giving him hope that his deepest desire could come true and then snatching it right back,

When he kisses you, there’s silent tears still streaming down your cheeks. It’s slow, gentle. The words that are stuck in his throat are communicated through this kiss. Like he needs you to know it’s okay. Your worries are valid and even though he’s hurt, he still loves you. Still needs you. And you kiss him back with the same intent, your heart aching in your chest because Jeongguk had been so happy when you’d agreed to start a family with him. A life that wasn’t just about the two of you as individuals, it would have been about the two of you as one. But that’s no longer a reality, merely a castle in the sky now.

The pillow is soft beneath the dip of your head. Jeongguk’s above you and you hold onto him like you’re afraid you might lose him, your mouths still attached. You’re terrified this might push him away, that he might find someone else that can give him what he really wants. Someone who will trust his intentions instead of doubting him.

He pulls away, eyes glossy, a look in them that tells you he can feel the fear in your kiss, the desperation to keep him closer. “I’m here.” His voice is thick, still heavy with heartbreak. “You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere.”

The urge to prove that makes your fingertips twitch. You’re yanking at the hem of his shirt, your heartbeat pulsing in your throat. It comes off immediately, followed by his shorts and your own t-shirt. He’s not hard but there’s a sizable bulge nudging against your clothed core. You pull him down, revelling in the way he caves you in, and kiss him until he’s grinding himself against you, little gasps spilling from his swollen lips. Your fingers are tangled in his long hair and even though you’re hurting your heart settles. This is yours. No matter what happens, this belongs to you.

Jeongguk must feel the same because he’s coaxing a dark bruise on your neck, the need to display his love for you making his tongue swoop across your sensitive skin, teeth nipping when a rush of desire slithers down his back. His hips move harder now and he’s leaking in his boxers, the damp stain of the fabric matching the one on your panties. The air still feels heavy, but your joined pants now fill it. There’s a hand on your hip, pinning you down to the bed and at some point Jeongguk had kicked the sheets to the floor. You’re at his mercy, taking the rough grind of his crotch against your own. There’s a sting on your clit from the material rubbing you the wrong way, so you gently push him off, slipping off your underwear. The cool air hits your slick folds, making you feel more exposed and vulnerable than you’ve ever felt before. He doesn’t say anything, just slips down your body, draping your legs over his shoulder, his warmth breath grazing your thighs.

The first lick of his tongue against you has your toes curling. You watch him spread you apart, firm tongue dipping into hole, toying with it before sliding back up to your clit. When his lips latch onto it, sucking it hard, your back lurches off the bed. The noises that fall from your mouth spur him on, tongue moving quickly now, alternating between precise quick licks and slower ones, tongue spread against your pussy. You take it, staring at him as he devours you. The usual fire you’d become accustomed to during sex doused from his eyes, the brown softer now, almost calm. But there’s an urgency in the way he eats you out, your slick coating his lips, as his tongue flicks against your clit.

It’s hard not to grind against his face, but you’re still holding yourself back, despite the rush of pleasure that’s creeping into every muscle, every nerve and piling in your gut. When his tongue swirls around your clit, before dragging down your folds and dips inside you hard, that resolve you were desperately clinging on snaps. You roll your hips against his mouth, back arched and your head pushing into the pillows. The knot in your gut is tight. You’re close, eyes closing involuntarily and your thighs twitching under the firm grasp of his hands. Jeongguk can tell because his tongue is against your clit once more, flicking hard, coaxing the orgasm out of you. You want to push his head away, the need to snap your legs closed making your thighs tense but he doesn’t care, fucking your clit with his mouth until you unravel beneath him.

It hits you slowly and then all at once. A build-up that has your squirming beneath him, trying to get away, then your muscles lock. Mouth wide open and words falling from your throat that you can’t decipher because there’s blood rushing in your ears. Your walls clench around nothing and you wish he’d slipped in a finger or two but then you glance down, Jeongguk still lapping at your pussy with vigour, his eyes on you and your whole body just dissolves. Your bones feel like they’re melting into each other, eyelids heavy but you force them open and lock them onto his. When you finally muster the strength, you push his head away and drag him up to you, slotting your lips together. He tastes like you, and you’re fully aware of his erection, the bulge grazing against your sensitive nub.

He cups one of your breasts as you kiss, his thumb brushing against your hard nipple. You jolt, a sudden rush of wetness gushing from your cunt. Your hands trail down his body without thought, gingerly digging into the band of his boxers but then he’s pulling away, mouth latching onto your nipple and your brain short wires for a second. The drag of his tongue against your chest makes your gut feel strange, another knot settling despite the orgasm you had moments ago.

He comes up, mouth shiny with your slick and your chest heaving beneath him as he stares at you in a way that makes your heart seize. “I love you too.” It hits you then, what you’d been repeating when he was going down on you. You said you loved him. And it’s true - you do. You love him so much it hurts sometimes. It’s the most overwhelming, intense emotion you’d ever felt. It makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode sometimes. And even though you’re not sure you can give Jeongguk what he wants anymore, those words lessen the worry and guilt you feel. He loves you. That’s all that matters.

His boxers find their way to the ground when your lips latch onto each other again and then he’s guiding himself into you, groaning against your mouth as you squeeze down on him. It’s slow, his hips rising and falling onto yours in a steady rhythm, cock stretching you out. It feels so good and you let go now, moaning into his ear as your hands settle on his hips urging him into you, faster and harder. Jeongguk complies, your name stuck on his lips as he fucks you into the mattress, the curve in his stomach telling him he’s close. You clench around him, loving the way Jeongguk feels buried inside you, filling you up like no one else can. You’re tight and wet and he can’t help but lift your hips, grasping the back of your thighs so that he can pound into you the way he wants too. He’s hitting deeper now, the curve of his cock rubbing against that part of you that has delicious tingles vibrating through your body. It’s heady, the way he fucks you. You can feel him twitching, thrusts in precise, the need to cum driving his hips. When he moves to pull away, you push his hips back down.

“I — oh,” He says, breathless when you squeeze around him, ribbed velvet walls clenching on his veiny cock. “I’m close.”

“Inside,” you murmur, “Cum inside.”

He stares at you, eyes glimmering. But his hips come slamming back down hard and he fucks you like he never wants to leave your cunt. It’s exactly what you want and you’re not worried. After three months of trying what could happen now? So you let him have his way with you, his harsh thrusts bruising your hips. His own falter against you, warm cum spilling inside. Jeongguk’s panting beside your ear, your sweaty skin sticking together. His hair is dishevelled, ruined and damp. But there’s a soft smile on his face and when he pulls out, cum making your thighs feel grimy. He pecks your nose gently. It makes your heart calm. Then he rises, moving to the bathroom and returning with a wet cloth. He cleans you up in silence but it’s content, not tense. Your eyes are closed when he slips into bed again, the mattress dipping under the weight of his knee. He drags the sheets he’d plucked from the floor over your body and you burrow into his side, the thrumming of his heart in his chest a serene euphony to your ears. You fall asleep like this, the melancholy that was weighing over your heart temporarily subsided.  

→

There’s a faint ding from your phone. You pick it up, sliding down the notification bar to see a reminder from your period app. You’re three days late. You choose to ignore it, tossing the phone back onto your desk because there’s a file you urgently need to complete. Seungmin’s been breathing down your neck about it. Coupled with the fact that Jeongguk’s birthday is next week and you’re still trying to plan his party out, your brain felt like it was about to combust. Your period is probably late because you were stressed. Jeongguk had been swamped with work too and after the mini holiday at the lake house you’d barely seen him. So obviously, it’s stress.

You leave the office late, putting down a reminder to book an appointment with your doctor in your notes app as you exit the building. You’d been mulling over going on birth control for a while now. It seemed like the most logical approach. Partially because you’d grown accustomed to feeling Jeongguk’s cum inside you and also because you thought it was better to wait a little bit until you were both more settled and ready for kids. Some part of you still longed to have them now but Soomi’s words haunted your thoughts every time the idea popped into your head. You had no doubt that you loved Jeongguk but the negatives of parenting heavily clouded over the pleasant scenarios you’d imagined.

The apartment is empty when you get home. You shower first and then head to the kitchen, your phone in your hand. There’s a text from Jeongguk telling you he’ll be late. He’s close to a promotion thanks to all his hard efforts even if it means you spend less and less time together. You settle on starting dinner, so that he’ll have something warm to eat when he comes home. He was notoriously bad at remembering to eat enough while working late.

When you’ve finished cooking, you settle into the couch, laptop open on some random show so that you have background noise as you eat. But it’s not enough to entertain you and you find yourself swiping through your phone. You scroll through Instagram feed, pausing over a picture of Yoona’s new-born. He’s a cute baby even with all the wrinkles and scrunched up face. His name is Jonghyun and Yoona hadn’t been able to stop talking about him. Baby this, baby that. It was cute, her unadulterated love for her child. Even when he puked over everything and refused to sleep.

Your heart feels heavy now, ears focused on the incessant ticking of the clock instead of the chattering of the actors on your screen. The memory of your first time taking a test comes stinging back hard. How nervous you were, how disappointed you felt when it was negative. It all seemed like wishful thinking now but something about it had you sitting upright, empty bowl discarded on the coffee table and your laptop nearly tipping onto the floor. You open the app again, stare at the three days’ late notification and then run to the bathroom.

The tests are still packed in the black paper bag. Your rummage through it, yanking out three in your trembling fingers tips. For some reason, it’s easier this time. You pee, dip them in the cup and leave them lying horizontally on the bathroom counter in what feels like seconds. Your heart pounds every step of the way. There’s no way you’re pregnant. It wouldn’t make any sense. Your legs jitter when you sit back onto the couch and everything feels like it’s going in slow motion. Or are you just moving really fast? You can’t tell, setting a timer on your phone before pressing your palm against your heart, trying to calm the drumming against your ribs. Time goes quickly and there’s a familiar buzzing signifying that your results are ready. You can’t walk. You don’t want to walk. It would be better not to know. But what’s the harm in knowing when you already know they’re negative. It’s just a confirmation. You’re not pregnant.

When you finally rise, your breath is shaky and your legs feel like logs as you drag yourself to the bathroom. The counter beckons you towards the tests, bright white light shining down upon them.

Two lines. On all three tests. Positive.

You can’t breathe. Your hands are shaking so much and suddenly the floor feels closer than it should. Your heart threatens to burst from your chest and there’s blood roaring in your head. You steady yourself against the sink, chest heaving beneath the loose shirt that you're sure belongs to Jeongguk. It feels surreal. The harsh light of your bathroom is hurting your eyes but you keep staring at the tests, the new information sinking in slowly. Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of your stomach, how the band of your underwear digs into the flesh of your hips. You can’t think about anything else because it hits you then. What those tests mean apart from the positive two lines, you keep blinking at.

Pregnant. You’re pregnant.

→

The first person you call isn't Jeongguk. It isn't your mother either or Yoona.

It's Soomi.

She picks up on the fourth ring, mumbling a hello that you struggle to hear over the sound of Bora whining in the background.

“Bora! Sit down!” Soomi’s not focused on your conversation yet. Her voice is tight, clear irritation radiating through her words. Something hits the floor and there’s a shrill echo of Bora’s cries ringing through the line. Soomi sighs heavily. “Give me a second. I’ll call you back.” And then the line goes dead.

Is that your future? Is that what you really want?

For some reason you’re crying. There’s a hot heaviness in your eyes that throbs dully in your skull, the coming of a headache. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, the lump in your throat making it hard for you to speak. Why did you even call Soomi in the first place? You can’t remember why the panic you’d felt had driven you to dialling her number. Especially when she planted that seed of doubt in your head in the first place.

When she rings again, you’re tempted to decline the call. Soomi would even question why you’re telling her first instead of your mother or Jeongguk. But you don’t know what else to do right now. You can’t just throw all the tests away and act like this isn’t happening. There’s a being developing inside you right now. A person that is both you and Jeongguk. And quite frankly you’re terrified.

“Hey, sorry for that. Bora’s started throwing tantrums now. I just had to talk to her.” She sounds exhausted.

You nod, realizing a second later she can’t see you. “Uh, yeah.” Your throat is clogged. “It’s fine, don't worry.”

“How are you then?” There’s a click of a door closing behind her.

“Um…” You can’t say it out loud, the words crawling back down your throat. Soomi’s quiet down the line, like she can feel the fear in your hesitation.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you alright?”

You still can say anything, a tremble in your fingers that you can’t control. “I’m…” She waits, patient, and you know her eyebrows are furrowed together like they usually do when she’s concerned.

Wouldn’t it be easier to just say it all at once? Rip it off like a bandage? You settle for that, forcing the rushed sentence out of your mouth. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?” You open your mouth again but Soomi beats you to it. “You’re pregnant?” There’s an incredulity there like she’s still trying to process what you’d said. At least you are in the same boat.

“Yes,” You reply, finally stepping out of the bathroom. The tests are shoved far into the back of the cupboard. You’d taken care to store the boxes away too instead of dumping them into the trash. But now you long to sit, and the couch seems incredibly inviting. It’s weird to crawl under the blanket, knees curled into your stomach. There’s a life blossoming there. A whole life.

“Oh my god! Congratulations!” She’s practically vibrating down the line and her happiness has you pausing. Why is someone else more excited for your pregnancy than you? “How far along are you? Does Jeongguk know yet? I’m so happy for you!”

“...I don’t know how far along I am. I just found out.” Your voice is monotone in comparison to her bubbly questions. She catches on quickly, falling silent at the lack of joy in your tone.

“Oh. Are you alright? Weren’t you trying for kids?” Now she’s confused, hesitant to be happy when you’re not. The problem is, there’s a small part of you that’s elated. Finally, after all that time, here’s what you wanted. Handed to you on a silver platter. But you’re too wary of it all right now. There’s ominousness creeping into your beautiful vision of a family, staining the picture dark. What if this rips you apart? What if it makes you hate Jeongguk? What if this is the wrong time? What if you’re a shit mother? There’s too much worry looming over parenthood. And it’s sitting on your shoulders.

The tears reappear, dripping down your cheeks fast.

“We stopped,” You croak out.

“Oh.” Soomi’s silence leaves your head throbbing. You know why you called. For reassurance. Someone needs to tell you it’s going to be okay. Not Yoona. Not Jeongguk. Not your mother. Soomi was the only one who could provide the reassurance you desperately needed. “Y/N, are you happy?” She asks a heartbeat later, like she knows your thoughts.

You hiccup. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel or what to do.”

There’s a small hum from her lips. “Okay. How about you get a glass of water first. Anything you want to drink.” She’s right. Your hiccups keep interrupting her and they’re uncomfortable. You leave the phone on the couch, returning after you’d chugged some water. “You’re back,” She sounds relieved, sighing through the line. You mumble a sound of affirmation, digging your cold feet under the fluffy blanket. “Remember what I said about parenthood?”

“Yes.” Of course you do, you hadn’t forgotten a word she’d said.

“I know I mentioned all the negative things but I don’t want you to lose sight of all the little wonderful things. Having a child is both a blessing and a nightmare — and I know it sounds hypocritical of me to be talking about all the nice things that come with being a parent when I just had an argument with my daughter, but I promise you, there’s so many moments that you’ll cherish during this part of your life. It’ll change a lot, some for the worse, some for the better. But it’s worth it. So worth it.”

You stay silent, shuffling in the cushions. There’s an urge to touch your stomach and you give into it, feeling the warm skin beneath your palm that’s going to stretch out, making room for the child within you.

“You know,” Soomi continues, a waver in her voice. “I cried the first time Bora could walk without support from either of us. She wasn’t that big and I was so proud of her but it felt like my baby was getting too old already. And now I can hardly get her to sit down.” She laughs softly. The memory she’s shared warms you. You can see it now, the tiny little feet, the unsure steps. “You know that’s waiting for you, right? With Jeongguk’s energy, that kid will never be able to stay still.”

And then you’re smiling, an easy one that tugs at the corners of your mouth. The pads of your fingertips trail along your stomach. “He’ll be so happy,” You murmur. There’s not even a slight bump but you already feel different, now that you’re aware.

“I know he will. I saw him staring at all the kids when we were at the lake house. He really wanted this.”

You hum again, but the mention of the lake house makes you heart break. “I told him I wanted to stop trying then.”

“Really? Why? If I may ask.”

You want to say it’s because of her, but you bite your tongue. Soomi may be a bit harsh sometimes but she was a sweet person and didn’t need to have that held over her head. “Just rethought it.” You settle for that instead. “Wasn’t sure if I was ready for parenthood just yet.” She’s quiet, like she can tell it was because of her.

“Are you happy, Y/N?” She asks again, not addressing the elephant in the room

You pause to think about her question. Really think about it. Jeongguk would be ecstatic. Over the damn moon. Yoona’s been nudging you to join her in this next stage of life and your parents would be overjoyed too. And you? What are you feeling?

“I’m happy.” There’s a sense of surety there. No matter what happens, you longed for this just as much as Jeongguk has. It’s a blessing. Even if it’s hard at the end of it all, it’s worth it. “I’m really happy.”

Soomi’s voice has a lilt in it. “I’m glad for you. You know it’s going to be okay. Jeongguk loves you too much to ever let either of you go.”

“I know,” You mumble, gaze on the door. “Do me a favour, don’t tell anyone yet.”

“Of course! My mouth is shut. Call me if you need anything, love. I need to check on Bora before she puts herself in danger.”

“Hmm, alright. I’ll call. And thank you Soomi.” You’re warm all over, skin buzzing with an emotion you can decipher.

“Anytime. I need to run. If you need a good doctor, I can refer you to one!”

“Thanks, I’ll let you know. Bye Soomi.”

It settles in when the line cuts, the feeling in your bones seeping into every limb. You are pregnant. There’s a miniature version of you and Jeongguk sitting inside your uterus. Evidence of your devotion to each other. Your love. You can’t stop touching your stomach beneath the safety of the blanket, the sheer wonder of it all still lost on you. Then Jeongguk is pushing the door open, and your hand drops from your abdomen. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, tie loosely pulled from its knot and there’s a glow in his brown eyes. You haven't seen them shine like that in months.

He toes his shoes fast and then he’s launching into the living room, a grin on his face that reaches your heart.

“Hello, my love. What’s got you so happy?" You tentatively ask. Jeongguk doesn’t reply, instead tackling you into the couch, firm arms wrapping around you. He holds you tight, this face buried into the hollow of your neck. You can feel his smile on your skin and your heart keeps fluttering. A wild butterfly caged in your chest.

“I got the promotion.” The alcohol reaches your nose then, remnants of his celebration still on his tongue. The words you want to share dance on your own tongue. But you keep them in check. Not now. You know when you’ll tell him. Soon, but not now.

“Really! I’m so proud of you. You deserve it, baby. You’ve worked hard.” You say into the tuft of his dark hair. He sighs against you, heart drumming against your chest. Content. “Let me warm your dinner. I’ll spoil you tonight.”

“I can think of other ways you can spoil me,” He grins, shifting so he can cup your chin, gently pulling you closer. You give in because you long to kiss him too. Have the surety of his warm mouth against yours, feel that love echo when you slip your tongue against his. He tastes like soju. But you brush it off, it’s probably not bad for the baby anyway. It’s not like you can tell him to stop and google whether this is safe for you. He’ll ask and you’re not ready to share this with him just yet. So you let Jeongguk push you onto the couch, mouth still latched onto yours. It’s easy to let go, lose yourself in his touch for a bit. Because it’s Jeongguk. The love of your life, the person who keeps you grounded, your best friend, and now the father of your child.

→

Soomi keeps an eye out for you at the party. She quietly orders virgins with you and the only person who seems to catch on is Jimin who keeps staring at her stomach with fear. But no one else is concerned, too busy exchanging stories over the table, their glasses clinking every once in a while. Taehyung keeps the liquor flowing, racking up a bill that’s going to bite your wallet. But you’ll let it slide for tonight — after all it is Jeongguk’s birthday.

The man in question is glowing, a never ending smile gracing his cheeks. The promotion at work came at the perfect time. He’s on a high, radiating pure unadulterated happiness. His joy spills over onto you and you can’t help but stay beside his side all night, eyes locked on his bright face. The laughter of your friends feeds the love blossoming in your heart and it positively combusts with joy when that sheepish smile creeps onto his face when everyone sings to him ‘happy birthday’. You leave the restaurant late; stories still being shared in the parking lot despite your friends halfway into their cars. Soomi sends you a wink as you carry Jeongguk towards the car and you catch the suspicious glance Jimin sends the two of you. They’ll have an interesting discussion later, you bet.

Jeongguk lets you drive, still woozy from the shots Taehyung urged down his throat. He doesn’t question that you hadn’t drank anything. You’d had a few bouts of morning sickness since you’d found out so avoiding alcohol in this situation was logical. Jeongguk thinks you’ve got a stomach bug. He accepted that explanation so easily, not remembering the last time you’d had unprotected sex. The ride home is content and quiet, Jeongguk cuddled within himself in that passenger seat. He’s beyond happy and it’s evident in the fond gentle glances he’s giving you. You pretend to not notice them, vibrating hard in your seat from the nerves wreaking havoc in your guts. Your fingers tap incessantly on the driving wheel, an accompaniment to the drumming of your heart.

You’ll tell him tonight.

The package is already at home, hidden in your underwear drawer. It's simple enough. A white ribbon tied neatly over the thin velvet black box and within it a positive pregnancy test, placed neatly inside a plastic zip bag, the cap on the tip on.

You’d thought about how you wanted to tell him over and over again but this seemed like the best idea. It’s not extravagant or dramatic and yet, for some reason you’re still so nervous.

When you kill the engine, your car now nearly slotted in the underground packing of your apartment, the silence is replaced by your rapid heartbeat. You turn to find Jeongguk staring at you, doe like eyes glimmering in the harsh glow on the parking lot lights. His mouth is turned upwards, cheeks flush from the alcohol in his system. Before you can say anything, distract yourself from your nerves, Jeongguk’s tugging off his seatbelt and leaning into your space, mouth moving onto yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that has you buzzing like you’re a teenager again, falling in love for the first time. He keeps a warm palm on the nape of your neck, deft fingers gently pressing into the sensitive skin there. You can’t help but curve into his caress, moaning quietly against his warm lips. When he pulls away you move to chase for it. He stops you by pecking your nose, leaving you blinking at him, hands clenched in your lap.

“Thank you for tonight. I love you,” Jeongguk murmurs against your forehead, fingers weaving towards your own seatbelt. He unbuckles you quickly, hands now on your waist as he urges you into his lap. You clamber on top of him, mindful of the gears that hit your knees. It takes a while to settle but when you do Jeongguk holds you to his chest, fingers running along your side. Your heartbeat is in your stomach now and you long to blurt it out. He catches your mouth against his before you can say anything, tongue coaxing you open. You kiss because if you try and reply to his statement now you’ll end up crying.  You don’t know how long to stay like this, making out in the basement of your apartment building like teenagers trying to hide from prying eyes. It’s nice until your hip starts to hurt from the uncomfortable position.

“Let’s go inside. I have a present for you.” You’re breathless in his arms, mouth wet from his lips against you. Jeongguk quirks an eye at that, shifting so that his crotch brushes against your stomach.

“Really? What kind of present?” He asks it slyly, hips rolling against you. You reward his bluntness with a smack on his shoulder, before opening the car door. “Ow! You can’t hit me, it’s my birthday.”

“Hurry up or you won’t get your present,” you reply, slipping off of his lap.

“Not far.” He whines, but he gets out anyway, shutting the door behind him.

“I don’t care.” You say, smiling back at him. “It’s a good one I promise.”

The questions start there and Jeongguk doesn’t stray far from you as you head towards your apartment. He keeps a palm pressed against the small of your back, pulling away only to give you space to open the door. Inside he latches himself onto you again, dropping kisses along your neck until you gently push him on to the couch.

“Wait here. Let me get the present.” He stares after your retreating figure when you head for the bedroom, curiosity making him finally stay silent. You return with a small black box and his mind starts guessing. A tie? The box isn’t big enough. A toy? What toy is that small? A pen? Why would you give him a pen?

He accepts the box cautiously, fingers immediately tugging at the white ribbon knot. He can feel your eyes on him as his fingers close around the lid. It makes him pause, gaze flickering towards your face because he isn’t sure what this is at all. Then he yanks the lid off, vision landing on the object within the box.

It takes him a moment to realise it’s a pregnancy test.

“Are you serious?” His hands are quivering but he plucks up the plastic bag that contains it anyway, dropping the box to the ground. His eyes are on you and there’s tears welling within your own. Jeongguk’s head feels hot and his chest is too small, heart widely slamming into his ribs. “Are you actually serious? You’re pregnant? You’re pregnant!” The smile that breaks onto his face makes you laugh with joy and all you can do is nod your head. Jeongguk moves so fast from the couch, wrapping his arms around in. Your chests are pressed against each other, hearts communicating through rapid thumping. He keeps murmuring it against your ear, like he can’t believe just yet.

“You’re actually pregnant. Oh my god. We’re having a baby.” He’s trembling in your arms and when he pulls away to look at you, you hold him steady. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes your heart stop and then he’s kissing you. It’s soft and sweet but there’s an urgency with every press of his lips against yours, one that you feel too. You long to have him closer, fingertips already digging into the fabric of his shirt. It should be off on the floor right now. Jeongguk groans into your mouth when your hands slip underneath the fabric. He’s practically levitating right now. It’s impossible for him to get any happier. And then a thought hits him so hard he’s left breathless when he pulls away from your lips.

“I’m going to be a father? Holy shit — I — you’re actually pregnant?”

“Yes, Jeongguk.” The shock on his face makes you giddy. You gesture to the test still clutched in his hand. “I really am.” You catch the wonder that whispers in his eyes when he glances at the test once more.  And then he’s on you, hands settling on your waist as he kisses you like you’re oxygen and he’s drowning. His erection keeps nudging against your stomach and the movement has you dripping instantly, panties sticking to your core. When you naturally roll against him, you don’t expect Jeongguk to pull away.

“What? What’s wrong?” He swipes his tongue over his rose lips, looking abashed. His eyes are still glued to your stomach.

“Shit — sorry. I didn’t mean to rub against you like that.”

You blink at him. Hard. Was the man who literally fucked a baby into you apologising for rubbing his erection against you? Really?

“Jeongguk,” You begin, attempting to sound patient. “Are you not going to sleep with me this whole pregnancy?”

“Can we do that though? Have sex? It won’t put the baby at risk?” He’s genuinely concerned, a hand coming out to brush against your tummy.

“I’ll be fine, Jeongguk. The baby’s only five weeks anyway.”

“You sure?” The warmth of his hand against you has you radiating, glowing bright like a star in the middle of the dark galaxy. You try not to preen under his attention, but the concern colouring his honey eyes makes your heart ache with fondness.

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” You try to hide that emotion with a nonchalant roll of your eyes. He notes it with a gentle scoff, the palm on your hand stills though.

The firmness in his voice makes your cheeks warm. But then he glances at you again. “You’re not tired? You don’t want to sleep?”

“Jeongguk, I suggest you take advantage of my libido before it disappears. You’ve already put a baby in me, what’s stopping you now?” He must read the irritation in your voice well because he stops being coy and settles a hand on your hip to pull you closer.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” He murmurs against your ear before easily lifting you up. The grin tugging at your lips is blissful, the feeling of Jeongguk’s sturdy arms guiding you to your bedroom licking at the flame in your core. You cling onto him, giggling in time with his slippers faintly pattering against the floorboards. You don’t know how he flicks on the lights in the room but he does so without letting you go, the smile curving at his own lips pressed against your chest.

Your back touches the mattress gently, the act tender in itself. The look Jeongguk gives you makes your heart flutter, a soft warmth building in your gut has his hands wander across along your body, pausing at your waist which he clutches firmly. He fits perfectly between your spread legs, the silk dress you'd donned for tonight hitched up your thighs, revealing spans of skin that Jeongguk keeps staring at. His eyes roam over your body, glittering in a manner that makes your fingers itch to close the distance between your bodies. You can't help but stare at back him, a stupid grin on your lips because this is really all yours. He's yours and you love him. And he loves being yours too. You can tell it by the way Jeongguk leans down, slotting his lips against yours, his body pressed firmly into you. The twitch of his clothed cock against your core has you groaning into his mouth, the sparks that journey across your skin from every slight touch he gives your body intoxicating. Your hands are on him a beat later, slipping into his soft brown curls. When your nails scrap against the nape of his neck Jeongguk shivers, a minute movement that has his hips driving harder into yours. The grip that lands on your bare thighs triggers an arch in your back, lining you perfectly against him. There hasn't been an exchange of words yet but you can feel it in every roll of his hips, in the way his lips slip down to your neck, painting purple and blue marks along your skin and in the way he glances at you when he finally pulls away, petal lips bruised and a glaze in his honey eyes that makes you want to do dangerous things.

"I love you." There's another kiss on your lips. His hands are in your underwear, fingertips toying with your wet folds. "I love you so much. So much." Another kiss and an expert flick against your clit. You think your heart might burst. It feels too full of adoration, bruising your ribs with every erratic thump inside of your chest. You just tug him closer, directing his mouth towards yours again and kissing him hard enough to leave a print of your ardour for him on his lips for eternity.

"I love you too." You mumble it into the air, the sentence soft and warm, containing all the adoration you feel towards him. Jeongguk beams, brighter than the sun. Your love for him blinds you but you don't mind it. No one has ever made you as happy as Jeongguk has. No one has ever made you feel like Jeongguk has. You love him so much that it hurts. And you know he loves you just as much too.

It comes easy, the way your clothes fall off your body as he kisses you. Suddenly your bare bodies in a bed, the desperation in your touches heady. He leaves you breathless when he finally settles himself between your legs. The first lick of his tongue against your dripping core has your hands balling into the sheets. Jeongguk doesn't wait for you to register the feeling of his mouth against your cunt. He hikes your legs over his shoulders, tongue slipping deep into your cunt. You jolt from the intrusion but Jeongguk pins you down, grip firm as he forces you to take every deft swipe of his tongue against your pussy. He knows how to unravel you, and he does so quickly, not holding back anything as he licks you open, groaning deep into your cunt. It's the little sighs that do you in, the mumbles of praise that he murmurs into you that spark something in your gut.

"Jeongguk." It's hitting you fast, a tremble in your thighs that you can't control spreading warmth throughout your body.

He hums, parting from your cunt with his mouth covered in your need. It gives you a moment to breathe, but then he plants a kiss on your folds and you feel your brain melt into mush. "You taste so good," Jeongguk murmurs, before swirling his tongue around your clit - a skilled motion that elicits a rush of slick from your core. "So fucking good," he reiterates, despite you protesting squirms, the hands on your hip unforgiving. And then his tongue is back inside of you, fucking you open with a vigour that leaves you heady. There's nothing that can stop your fingers slipping into his hair, nails scraping his scalp with how hard you grip at the locks on his head. Your hips rise subconsciously, grinding his face into your cunt and slipping his tongue deeper and deeper until you feel it snap. He reads your body too well, the heave in your chest enough indication that your high is hitting you. And just before it does, his tongue is on your clit, licking at the sensitive bud the way he knows you like it. It happens all at once, a heat bursting through your system and your thighs suddenly begging to be clamped shut. But Jeongguk keeps them open, laving at your core as you shudder beneath him, vision blank and your nerves tingling with pleasure.

The waves barely subside, but you force your eyes to focus, the gentle press of Jeongguk's lips on your cunt making your toes curl. When you glance down, gaze floating over Jeongguk finally departing from between your legs, your heart bursts. His face is flushed rouge, a pretty tint over his golden skin, and his curls are tumbling into his face mussed from your fingertips racking through his hair. Even from here you can see how hard he is, straining against the fabric of his boxers, the print of his cock reigniting a fire in your gut that blazes through your nerves straight to your core. He notes the direction of your gaze with a loop-sided grin before he's descending onto you, trapping you within his sturdy arms. His mouth is on yours a second later, tongue slipping against yours. The groan that melts down your throat has your heart thumping, and your hands travel down his back, yanking him down until his crotch is pressed right against your own. You like the way you taste on his tongue, and it shows by how you kiss him, lips eager for more and more. The moment wraps itself around you, needs forgotten for a moment as you learn each other through your kisses all over again. It leaves you breathless, a tiny sigh drifting from your mouth when you finally part, and the look in Jeongguk's dark eyes evoking a thrill through your system. It's the instinctual thrust of his hips into yours that has the mood changing, like a trigger has been set off because suddenly you're needy, pawing at him until he gives in. You can feel him against you, twitching into your heat, the damp spot building on the fabric a result of both of your desires. There's a chaste kiss along your neck, Jeongguk slowly working his hips into you, but the pulse inside of your core demands for something more. Your fingers tug at the band of his underwear, impatient as you push down the fabric. He just laughs, mouth pressed into the hollow of your neck, hips raised to assist in your ministrations. It takes some wiggling before they're off, discarded someone off the edge of the bed.

"Aren't you needy — oh fuck." Your hand is wrapped around his length; the twists you give around him shallow but you know him well enough to know where to apply pressure. It doesn't take long from Jeongguk to crumble into you, the breaths against your neck shallow and quick and his cock leaking all over your hand. He feels good like this, thick and velvet-like against your palm, a weight you ache to have in your mouth. But then your walls flutter, clenching on nothing as Jeongguk groans into your shoulder, his hips pistoning into your hand and your brain can focus on nothing but having him inside of you, filling you up like he should.

"Baby." There's a careful edge to his tones. The profanity he whispers a moment later melts into the heat of your skin. "Keep doing that and I'll cum." He feels taunt above you, like a string on the verge of snapping.

"You could do that inside of me," you retort, twisting your hips up. It's only a slight brush but Jeongguk is swearing into the heat of the air. His hands are on the back of your thighs in an instant, hoisting you up to meet him as he settles himself between your legs, the head of his cock nudging against your core.

"You're a menace," Jeongguk retorts, pressing his length into you. His eyes are on your core, marvelling at how wet you are, practically drenching his cock in your slick. It doesn't help that you look gorgeous like this underneath him, his hands wandering back to your waist as he tugs you closer. The soft smile gracing your lips makes his heart ache. He pushes in without really thinking it over, the urge to fill you up overriding any other thought in his brain. The gasp you let out urges his hips to hit deeper, the feeling of your tight wet walls fluttering around his length euphoric. He loves every part of you but your cunt has a special place in his heart if he's being honest with himself. You fit around him perfectly, like you were made for him. Even after years of being with him it still takes him breath away, how easy you welcome his length into you, the noises you make when he's inside you. The first time you'd had sex Jeongguk had nearly cried. He'd never reached his climax that quick and it hit him hard, slamming into his body as he fucked you into the mattress. For some reason he feels the same way now, balls tight with his release, begging to coat your walls in his cum. He tries not to stare at your tummy but it's instinctual.

You sigh when he bottoms out, the curve of your bum pressed neatly against his balls. "But you love me."

Jeongguk scoffs lightly, rocking his hips hard. "I don't."

You ignore the butterflies that erupt in your stomach because you know he's lying. The look in his eyes as he gazes at your stomach says something else entirely.

"You do," you retort, raising your hips to match his thrusts. "You love me." The curve of his cock rubs right where you need him most, but it's not the hard pounding you expected from him tonight. He's going uncharacteristically slow, the drag inside of you steady but not fierce. Like he's purposely prolonging this, hanging onto the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him. There's a distance in his eyes that makes you clench your walls on purpose, hard enough to yank Jeongguk back into reality. He responds with a hard thrust, one that coaxes a low moan from your lips. He hums low, hips still driving you into the sheets.

"Yeah I do." It makes your heart swoop, the heat that envelopes your body intoxicating.

The sound of you meeting fills the room, your slick dripping over Jeongguk's length. For a moment you watch how he disappears inside of you. It leaves a tingle travelling through your body, to see how well you take his cock, how he groans deep every time he buries himself inside of you. But then your eyes flicker back to Jeongguk and his unwavering gaze on your stomach. Even the hands settled on your waist are ginger, gripping you like you're fragile. It's only then do you remember the concerns he'd voiced.

"You can go harder," you murmur, the tremor in your voice a result of how good he's fucking you despite the gradual pace he'd opted for.

Jeongguk hums, still driving his cock deep into you. He's not really concerned about that. His hips move slow because he's still marvelling at the fact that you're pregnant. That the child developing inside of you belongs to the both of you. That he fucked a baby into you. It sets off something oddly primal in his brain, dragging up an urge that he has to bite down on. That's why he goes slow, savouring every whimper and sigh that falls from your bruised lips. Etching the way your body feels under him, pliant to his desires. How you stare at him with that soft look clouding your gaze. He doesn't want this to end. Even with the pressure in his balls tight, he drags it out, drowning the words that threaten to torrent from his heart with the sound of your meeting. It echoes in the room, colouring the air with your mutual love for one another. He lets it wrap around him, revels in it. But then you're wrapping an arm around him and tugging him down. His face lands into your shoulder and his palms get lost in the sheets. He feels your legs straddle around his waist, drawing him deeper and deeper and Jeongguk feels his resolve crumble into dust.

"Oh." The little exclamation fluxes into the crook of your neck, lost into the heat of your skin. It ignites something in your gut and your hips rise to meet his quickening pace. There's an edge lingering behind your eyes and you want it so bad. Jeongguk hears the desperation in the way you whine his name and he moves with purpose now, pounding you hard into the sheets mercilessly. It's what you want and Jeongguk intends to give you everything and anything you desire. Especially now that you're the mother of his child.

His high hits him quick, a fast sweet thing that zips down his spine has your walls cling around his length, holding him in like you need him there. There's nothing that can stop it, but you join him a beat later, your bodies moulding into each other, space nonexistence as your rapid heartbeats fall into sync. You feel him twitch inside of you, cum pooling around your entrance, and your brain short circuits for a moment.  There's a warmth ebbing from your core, echoing deep inside of your bones and the added feeling of your boyfriend caging you in his arms, his cum slipping from your core, unlocks something in your brain. It makes your heart fall into ease too, and you can't help but cling onto the security of his being even when he's mumbling about cleaning the two of you up in your ear.

"No.” The protest falls from your pouty lips, a neediness colouring your voice that Jeongguk can’t help but smile at. The glitter of his brown eyes leaves you swooning, but not as hard as the quick peck he delivers on your check a second later.

"Please," He reasons, voice gentle. "You're gonna feel gross tomorrow."

Your legs are reluctant but they fall away regardless. "Be quick."

He plants another faint kiss to your lips again before rising. "Of course I will."

→

“You stink.”

Jeongguk laughs at the grimace painting your features as he dives into you, smashing your nose straight into the pit of his armpit. He reeks, skin still slightly sticky from putting his muscles to work in the gym downstairs. Normally, he would prefer to drive out to the gym he’d signed a membership for. He’d usually shower there before heading home. However, since the news of the new addition to your family Jeongguk had been adamant on staying near home. Though the equipment in your building was arbitrary Jeongguk refused to go out further than needed. Even when you desperately wanted him to. For instance, right at this very moment. You can feel the revulsion forming at the back of your throat as he nuzzles you into his arms. You gag on it, shoving him off harshly. You can’t even muster a playful smile when he stares at you in confusion, face downcast.

“What’s wrong?” He says it innocently, oblivious to the stench that’s emitting from him. Normally, you don’t mind Jeongguk post work-out must. But something in your brain has registered his current sweat drenched body as the vilest thing on Earth.

“You stink,” You reiterate, shifting away from him. Jeongguk pouts, sniffing at the tight fabric that stretches over his firm muscles.

“That bad?”

“Like a pig. Please go shower.” You snap, snatching up the bag of salt and vinegar chips you’d left behind in you flee from Jeongguk. Usually you didn’t like the way this flavour lingered in your mouth, yet somehow with the past couple of days you’d demolished more packets of them than you’d ever eaten in a single month in your entire life.

“That is not the food a pregnant woman should be eating,” He comments, voice coloured with disdain. He attempts to pluck it out of your hands, but the sharp glare you target at him halts his movements immediately.

“Don’t talk to me when you smell like that.”

He frowns, raising a hand to rake through the damp brown curls sticking to his scalp. “You hate the way salt and vinegar crisps smell. Why the hell are you eating them at this rate?”

“Why are you not in the shower yet?” The eyebrow raised directly at him pokes at his composed temperament.

“Y/N. Apart from those, what else have you eaten today?” When you don’t answer Jeongguk evades your space once again. You cough back the bile that’s coating your throat.

“We had breakfast together, you know what I ate.” He doesn’t take the retort well, sighing heavily as he blinks at you.

“Breakfast was hours ago. What did you eat in between that? I want a serious answer.” There’s enough gravity in his words to make you mumble out what he’s asking to hear.

“....Bread.”

“Bread?” He repeats it like he can’t believe it, tone coloured with incredulity. “Bread. You just ate bread. Was there anything on the bread? Tell me it was a sandwich at least.”

“No. Just plain bread.”

The sigh he emits now is loud and full of frustration. “Bread? Y/N, you’re pregnant. You can’t just eat plain bread that’s not enough for you.”

“I know,” You snap back, a harshness in your voice that even surprises you. It makes Jeongguk pause for a moment, but you’re already too worked up to care about backtracking your thoughts. “I know that I should be eating nutritional stuff Jeongguk but I can’t. I literally can’t. I feel like I’m going to throw up over everything. It’s so hard to force food down my throat when I feel like it’s going to come right back up. So stop getting at me for that. I’m trying, I really am. Just let me be.”

He tilts his head, the perturbation in his eyes tangible. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you that lingers, Jeongguk’s gaze unwavering. It makes you feel uncomfortable, and you squirm away subconsciously. The minute moment has a dark cloud settling over Jeongguk’s features.

“I’m sorry,” He doesn’t make a move to kiss or hug you - which you’re both grateful for and irked at. It’s a peculiar feeling, repulsing your partner.  “I get that your sensitive right now. I’m just worried. You know tomorrow is our first prenatal visit. You’re still taking the vitamins right?”

“I am,” You affirm, sticking your hand back into the packet of crisps. “And stop worrying. You’re making me nervous.”

He sighs again, rubbing the nape of his neck with unease. In one fluid motion he’s off the couch, taking the atrocious smell with him. “I’m sorry again. I’ll go shower. Please, just consider eating something that isn’t salt and vinegar chips while I’m gone. And drink some water. Please? For me?” The pleading look he gives you, doe eyes wide, plasters itself into your brain. You mumble a noise of agreement, waiting impatiently for him to walk away. He does so with one last long look at you, his eyes holding a miscellany of emotions that you can’t decipher. You don’t want to either, but the feeling they give you creeps through your chest, sneaking its way into your heart.

When he's gone, you dig into your crisps unabashedly, yet for some reason the taste of them leaves a film of disgust in your mouth. You try to chug it away with a bottle of water but it lingers, provoking a wave of nausea that has you taking deep breaths. The show playing on the television is monetarily forgotten as you wander into the kitchen in search of something to calm your unsettled stomach. The cluster of bananas sitting in your fruit basket catch your eyes simply because the vision of Jeongguk staring at you with that imploring gaze is still vivid in your memory. He’s right though - you’re not eating enough healthy food to sustain the current exertion your body is undergoing. Making a whole human being is incredibly difficult and it was taking a huge toll on your body. From the constant nausea to the back pain and sudden scent sensitivity, you were feeling overwhelmed. Your moods had suffered too, your patience running thin with Jeongguk more often than not. The lethargy your body feels seeps negativity into every aspect of your life - and it didn’t help that Seungmin was still breathing down your neck asking for reports left right and centre like you had nothing better to do with your time. There had been a couple of close calls at the office this week we’re you’d nearly snapped at him, but you’d managed to hold yourself back in time. However, all those repressed emotions are following you, reappearing in the way you flare up at Jeongguk for the slightest mistake. It’s starting to eat away at you, this guilt that you’re treating him like this despite your boyfriend trying his best to provide you with everything and anything you wanted. That’s why you grab one of the bananas, swiftly peeling it open.

But then the smell hits you, quick and hard leaving no room for you to force back the vomit that nearly spews from your mouth. You barely make it to the toilet in time, head held over the bowl as you hurl out the obscene amount of carbs you’d consumed for the day.

You don’t even hear his footsteps but the sudden hard gently rubbing on your back isn’t unwelcome. He murmurs softly over the sound of you heaving, crouching next to your huddle figure, worry violently radiating from him. It’s a few more retches before it passes, you mouth bitter with the remnants of salt and vinegar crisps. It makes your eyes sting, and suddenly your throat is clogged with a devastating despondency that swallows you whole. You don’t even feel like you can move from the toilet, holding your head in your hands as you choke back tears. You feel discomfort everywhere, and this is merely the beginning of your pregnancy. Seven weeks in and a part of you is ready to quit it all already.

Jeongguk coaxes your head up, gently urging a glass of water into your hands that you use to rinse your mouth out. The distress in his eyes doesn’t help quell any of the negative thoughts swimming in your brain.

“Are you okay?” He murmurs, voice soft in the echo of your bathroom. His hair is still damp from his shower, golden skin on display - evidence he didn’t have enough time to tug a shirt over his head before he came to your aid.

“Obviously not,” You bite back, and then immediately regret it when you see the fall on his face. “I don’t think I’ll throw up again, but I really want to lie down.” He nods, evidently glad you’ve given him something to work with.

“C’mere.” You make a motion at the mess in the toilet but he brushes it off. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it.”  His arms lift you up easily, gingerly guiding you to the couch where he nestles you in the soft cocoon of pillows and blankets, fretting incessantly over whether you truly feel comfortable or not. And then, he’s gone. You hear the sound of the toilet being scrubbed even though you’re in the living room and your nausea rears its ugly head for a split second. It’s a dangerous lurch in your stomach that thankfully subsides when you close your eyes and breath slow. Jeongguk walks in on this, shirt soaked with the droplets of water slipping from his curls and his phone in his hand. You don’t see it but he’s staring hard at his phone, eyes swiftly reading through a series of web-pages, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He wishes he could just text his mom the question plaguing his brain but he can’t. You’d both decided to hold back the pregnancy announcement until the first ultrasound. But in situations like this Jeongguk wishes that his mother knew. Or anyone he could trust for advice really. He feels like he’s waddling blindly through deep waters, constantly making the wrong decisions because you keep snapping at him. Even now that you’re reposed on the couch, face lax, he can still see how dull your skin is. It makes his heart ache. For the duration of your pregnancy the morning sickness had been present - but it had never been this bad. Coupled with your other symptoms, Jeongguk truly feels like the worst partner in the world for not being able to alleviate somewhat of your troubles.

That’s why he heads to the kitchen with purposeful steps, snatching up the half peeled banana you’d deposited on the counter before fleeing for the bathroom and dumping it into the trash. You blink your eyes open to the sudden sound of Jeongguk knocking pots onto the stove and rummaging deep through the fridge.

“What are you doing?” You croak, voice weak over the droning of the television.

Jeongguk twists to face you, a tiny smile on his lips but his eyes are nervous. He asks it anyway because if he does nothing he’ll feel useless. “How do you feel about ginger tea?”

“I’m listening,” You say. The smile on your lips is tired, but the fact that it’s there is enough confirmation to ease the worry that had become a permanent fixture in Jeongguk’s heart.

→

His jittering is getting on your nerves. Jeongguk’s always been one to move around to alleviate his anxiety but by doing so at this very moment, he’s adding to yours. You already feel sick to your stomach, the candescene of the clinic lights sparking an ache in your eyes. Instinctively, you reach out from your perch in the leather chair, giving his jerky knee a firm but tight squeeze. The movement halts immediately and from your peripheral gaze you note the sheepish smile that spreads across your boyfriend’s lips.

“Sorry,” he whispers into the sterile air. Hospitals always have that sharp alcohol smell and you’re quickly coming to the conclusion that you don’t like that smell at all.

“It’s okay,” you return. “You’re just making me nervous, babe.”

He’s got your hand in his a second later. “I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t believe this is real.”

You huff. “Well you better start believing. This is very much real.” Maybe that’s what’s causing the mini freak-out in your mind. The gravity of the situation was slowly starting to dawn on you. Maybe it was the smell of the clinic, or maybe it was the equipment surrounding both of you. But it was all becoming very real that this was happening.

Jeongguk seems to have noted the flash of panic flooding your features but before you can say anything the door clicks open and a sharp lady with pin straight hair walks in.

“Good morning, Mr and Mrs Jeon. Apologies for keeping you waiting. I hope everything is alright.” She moves quickly, dropping a chart on the counter beside the wall before turning to face the both of you. You quirk an eyebrow at how she addresses you but Jeongguk doesn’t make a comment, instead quickly rising to give her a small bow.

“Morning Doctor Lee, everything’s alright. Just some morning sickness and fatigue but otherwise she’s doing okay.”

She grants you a small glance, the smile on her face gentle. “That’s to be expected. There’s some remedies I can suggest but for the most part you just have to work through it. Otherwise, we can get into the first ultrasound.”

You give her a nod, hand still intertwined with Jeongguk’s and a strange knot tight in your throat.

“Alright, go ahead and lie down for me,” Lee says, dimming the lights in the room. She raises your shirt up when you’ve gotten comfortable, handing you a paper sheet to prevent the gel from staining your clothes. Your exposed belly in the faint glow of the monitor screen ticks of something in your head. But you bury that feeling away, focusing on the feeling of Jeongguk’s callused palm against your own.

“Okay, just undo your pants and tug them down for me.” You do as instructed, wiggling in the seat until the curve of your stomach is out for all to see. You can feel Jeongguk’s eyes on it, the sudden squeeze he bestows your hand a clear indicator.

“The gel is warmed but it still might be a little bit uncomfortable,” Lee continues. She’s right, but you let her spread it around anyway, the pounding in your heart frantic. “So we’re going to do a simple heart-tracing,” she says as she presses the probe into your skin. “This is just a general check on how your baby is developing.” You nod again, ignoring the deft hard press of the probe and she shifts it around

“See if you look here.” Your eyes snap right to the monitor, mind trying to decipher the blobs on the screen into a person growing inside of you. “There’s your baby’s arm, and right there is the head and neck. They’re developing very well. Look there’s the rib cage, and there’s the spine.”

“Wow,” Jeongguk murmurs into the silence of the room.

Lee laughs, pressing the probe in a little deeper. “There’s the heart, and if I go down… Yes, there’s the stomach. And right there is your umbilical cord. Everything seems to be coming along well. Oh, look!” You can’t even rip your gaze away from the screen if you wanted to. “There’s the baby moving, see how the arm is raising?”

You can see it, a tiny slight movement that you don’t even register happening within you. Your baby is moving. Maybe you let out a little gasp, maybe your grip on Jeongguk’s hand goes taunt, but suddenly this seems real with a clarity you’ve never felt before.

“Alright, so I’m seeing no anomalies. So we’ll do a crown-rump length measurement. This will give us a possible date of birth for your baby. But from the information you gave you’re thinking you’re around nine weeks along, right?”

“Yes.” Your voice feels far from your body.

“Okay, let me just take a look at the rest of your body. I can see that your bladder is full, that’s good,” she says. You zone out then, lost in the sudden violent realisation that you’re growing a life inside of you. It feels slightly terrifying in the faint blue glow of the room. And it worsens when Jeongguk starts asking questions, mumbling about your food aversions and diet. Doctor Lee responds in that calm collected tone of her’s, giving him suggestions that you see him eagerly internalise. Yet you don’t hear much of what she says, too busy staring at the image on the monitor.

“Would you like me to take a picture?” Lee suddenly states. “We can’t determine gender at this stage but I could take a few pictures of the baby and have them printed out for you.”

“Yes,” you say. “We’d like that.”

Lee nods, the softness of her gaze enough to ground you for a moment. “Let me just move this around here. We’d like one with the baby up and in a good position.” You can’t tell if Jeongguk is breathing beside you, his sudden silence vaguely concerning. But this his fingertips feather down your side, reassuring, a reminder that he’s here for you.

“Alright then, that sums up what we’re able to do for your first ultrasound. I just need to check some of the reports and then I’ll get back to you. Here’s some towels so you can clean yourself up.” She leaves you buttoning your pants up, the lights back on and a weight sitting heavy on your shoulders.

“Our kid is gorgeous.” Jeongguk breaks the silence with that, tugging your hand into his once more.

“We haven’t even really seen him, Jeongguk,” you return. There’s a delirious smile pulling at your lips. Yes, you’re worried about this new challenge. Parenthood truly did not feel like a joke, but every time you look at Jeongguk. See the bright adoration blooming in his eyes, that fear can’t help but subside. It virtually disappears when he brushes a kiss against your forehead, plucking up the tissues you’d used to wipe the gel off.

“Him? How do you know our baby is a boy, hmm?” There’s the thud as the tissues hit the bottom of the garbage can. You shift to help him clean up but Jeongguk stops you with a firm palm against your belly, honey eyes staring at you with tenderness.

“I don’t know,” you return. “I think it’s a boy. But I don’t really care. I just want a healthy baby.”

He flicks your nose fondly. “I feel the same way, my love. Everything seems to be going well so far. I just need you to eat a little better. You heard what Doctor Lee said.”

“I know,” you groan. “But the baby hates everything! It’s not my fault I’m not hungry.”

“I know, my love. But you still need to eat. Where do you want to go for lunch today? I’m thinking Paul’s.” Jeongguk sweeps the rest of the mess up, ever so diligent and nit-picky. “I’m craving pasta.”

“Fine, but don’t expect me to finish anything. Those portions are always too —”

“Mr Jeon?” The door swings open, Lee striding in with an envelope and her chart tucked underneath her white coat. “Here’s the ultrasound photo. As for the estimation date, we’re thinking around May 17th. If you have any other questions we can discuss them now.”

“I think we’re clear of any questions right now,” Jeongguk responds, gently taking the envelope from her outstretched hand. “Thank you, Doctor Lee.”

“Alright, let me know if anything happens or if any questions arise,” she says. “I’ll see you at your next appointment.” She sends you off with a smile, and the worry that claws at your insides ebbs away the moment your feet leave her office.

It’s in the car that you rip open the envelope. It feels weird, holding the picture in your hands. Because that’s your baby. That’s something you and Jeongguk made together. A life forming inside of you. Jeongguk leans into your space, a hand on your thigh as your both stare at the picture together, attempting to pinpoint where the arms and legs are forming. It’s surreal, knowing that this was happening inside of you right now.

“That’s our baby,” you whisper. Jeongguk grins, planting a warm kiss on your check.

“Yeah, that’s our baby.”

→

Your bump grows steadily over the course of your pregnancy. Suddenly waist bands are too tight, jeans don’t clasp shut, and you’re left rummaging through your closet for anything that sits loose enough to alleviate your discomfort. Jeongguk’s sweatpants swiftly migrate to your closet becoming a favourite item for you to don until one day Soomi insists on taking you maternity shopping. It’s not your favourite activity, to be honest. The harsh lights in the changing rooms illuminate your drastically changing body, bouncing off the roundness of your belly. It’s surreal, to see yourself alter like this, a totally new person staring back at you from the reflection. But you amuse her regardless, not minding the loose fitted clothes she swamps over you with that delicate smile of hers.

You and Jeongguk tell your parents first, during one late afternoon lunch, before announcing the news to everyone else you know. There’s hesitation in the initial reception, expected comments at the lack of your matrimony being muttered amongst your grandparents and parents. But that quickly dissipates when you hand them a picture of a recent ultrasound. They fall in love immediately, cooing and simpering with adoration for the child growing within you. It’s around then that the glow sneaks around, your skin vibrant and the smile on your lips unwavering. But the pregnancy isn’t perfect, there are still bouts of morning sickness and a growing pain at the base of your back that refuse to disappear despite advice for others and consistent care from Jeongguk himself. You manage through it though, a strange feeling blossoming in your chest whenever he places an absentminded palm against your belly, like a security blanket shielding you away from the bitter coldness of the world.

You can’t help but think about that feeling as you stare yourself in the mirror, sans clothes, tummy spreading far from body. With your first trimester essentially over, the changes in your body have become more rapid. It’s been odd to glance down and find a swell there instead of your usual tummy with its rolls and softness. Your fingertips give in, poking gently at the skin there. It’s still soft — just different, a firmness that tugs at your heart meeting your fingers. You should have gotten into the shower ages ago, a meeting awaiting your morning at the office. Jeongguk’s up too, the faint padding of his slippers echoing through the walls. You don’t realise how close he’s drawing until the door slides open, brown curls and wide eyes appearing from the sudden gap. There’s no need to hide, his gaze falling on your bare skin gently.

“Are you going to get in any day soon or is your body more fascinating to look at?” He’s annoyed. Despite your insistence Jeongguk doesn’t like the idea of you going into a stressful environment that you hate on most days, especially when his new position covers both of you. Seungmin doesn’t know yet too, and your manager is still a pain in the ass on good days. He doesn't want that around you when your body is preoccupied with creating life. But the idea of wasting away on the couch watching reruns of sitcoms and shunning away the comfort foods you once enjoyed sounds abhorrent. You’d rather be in the office while you can, and your colleagues are wonderful to — better company than a television show.

“You don’t think my body is fascinating?” He sees your pout in the mirror, shifting forward with a small smile on his own lips.

“I never said that.” The words wrap around you the same time his arms do, strong and firm but delicate in how he handles you. His lips meet your neck a beat later, the adoration they leave sinking straight into your heart. It warms you from head to toe, burning when his hands fall to your belly instinctively. “It’s more than fascinating.”

You hum, rocking into his chest. “Is it?” Your eyes don’t leave the mirror, engraving this image into the base of your mind where it will live with a clarity as clear as the sky. Jeongguk on the other hand is too busy looking at you, eyes trained on your face like he’s staring at a constellation hanging high in the velvet of the night. His hands travel, dropping low to settling at your hips. His own brushes against you, want evident through the loose fabric of his shorts.

“Do you want me to show you how fascinating it is?”

“I'm gonna be late for work, Jeongguk.”

“You don’t have to go at all,” he returns, a gentle press of his lips on your neck accompanying the statement.

“And why would I want to do that?” You retort, but your resolve is weak, body already pliant to the gentle shift of him as he draws you close.

“You don’t have to want to not go – I can just make you.”

“Jeon–”

His wandering hand is now at your chest, the fingertips that trail along your skin are delicate and yet they leave blazes of heat in their wake. “Please,” he burns the word into your skin, lips leaving a soft mark. “Just for today.” You feel it then, the crumble of your resolution. It happens the moment his hand slips low, right between your legs, grazing soft the way you like it. His other hand stays at your chest, squeezing soft before he catches your nipple between his fingertips. A precise flick, and the press of his tongue on your neck has you succumbing faster than the shore does to the hungry tide.

“Jeon–” He makes you watch, fingers landing right where you need them, sure deft presses against the nerves there. Your thighs are drawn taunt already, heightened by the sensitivity of your newfound body. It catches you gaze in the mirror, that bump, peaking forward as he works your open with his fingers. You can feel his muscles shift, ready to spin you, lift you up onto the counter like he’s done before and find his way between your legs. But you decide then, that you don’t want that just yet.

“Wait – wait, Jeongguk. Wait, I want something else first.” He halts, pauses with a curiosity in his dark gaze that makes you nervous for some reason. In baited silence you turn, shuffling away from him and sinking on your knees in a fluid motion.

“You don’t have to –” He starts, but you don’t let him finish.

“But I want to you.”

“Baby.” It’s laced with apprehension, but his cock is hard at the sight of you like this, pliant and on your knees, a pretty picture burned into his memory. “Your knees,” Jeongguk mumbles, gripping the counter when your mouth his dick through the fabric of his shorts. “You’re going to be in pain.”

“You know I like pain, Jeongguk.” And then your tugging the fabric down, sighing when he springs out, hard and needy. He’s already leaking, tip red and wet. He wants to say something, but it vanishes when you swallow him whole, head bumping into the back of your perfect throat with an evil ease. The groan that falls from his mouth and unearthly, painting the air warm. He’s forgotten how good your mouth is, how eager you work your tongue around him, fast and quick over delicate nerves that fall victim to your ministrations quick. He’s not normally this fast in reaching his edge, but the sight of you, naked and full in the mirror plague the back of his mind. It shouldn’t be hot but that fact that you’re carrying his child does something to base part of Jeongguk’s brain that he can’t put into words. It’s what drives his hips forward, motions muted because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. But you don’t care, forcing more of his length down your throat until you gag, lips glistening bright under the bathroom lights.

“Baby,” Jeongguk mumbles, his hand reaching to pull you off his cock. “Baby – please – gonna cum if you don’t stop.”

You pull off with an obscene wet pop, licking your lips sinfully. “But that’s what I want.” You see him twitch, length dripping wet.

“No,” Jeongguk whines. “Not when I wanna cum in you.”

“Really?” He doesn’t even know why you’re surprised.

“Yes,” he answers anyway. “Really.” You’re pulled from the ground softly, and spun to face the mirror with care. His clothes hit the ground then, firm tan arms wrapping around you. They bend you forward, rest your hands onto the counter so you have support when he sinks down behind you, nudging your legs open with purpose.

“Thought you wanted to – oh fuck.” Jeongguk hums at that, tongue slipping right between your folds. He licks you open with a fierceness that has your knees shaking, deft movements filled with urgency. It sparks that heat in your gut, allows to spread fast through your body as his face burrows deep between your legs. His hands hold you still though, carefully protecting your belly against the bathroom counter. You can’t focus on anything but the feeling of his tongue sliding in deep, coaxing your walls apart eagerly. When he finally parts from your cunt you’ve forgetting how to breathe, forehead pressed against the cool counter and your lungs heaving.

“Good girl,” Jeongguk comments, dropping a swift kiss on your core. “Wet like this just for me, right?”

You sigh, a tiny noise of agreement. “Just for you.”

Jeongguk doesn’t comment, gripping you hard as he rises again, cock nudging right against your cunt with ease. He doesn’t move though, hands coming to gently lift your head. He forces you to look, honey eyes coloured dark even in the glimmer of the lights. His fingers journey along your features, quietly claiming the skin they touch.

“All of this, only for me, right?”

“All for you,” you immediately comply, hips shifting back. You want him so bad it hurts.

He pauses at your belly, settling at the base of it, swell cupped in his hand. “Only for me.” You don’t reply at first, because it feels like something Jeongguk is saying to himself. But then he looks at you, waiting, the grip on your body firm and unforgiving.

“Yours.” It’s whispered into the morning, like a secret of the night instead. Jeongguk smiles, that bright grin you’ve grown to love feeding the fire that burns fast within you.

“Mine,” he brands the word into your skin with a kiss on your neck. “Forever?”

“Forever.”

He buries himself deep them, splitting you open with one sure thrust that coaxes a moan from the back of throat. It melts into the air, walls already adjusting to his length. You can feel the slick coating your inner thighs, tainting the base of his crotch and dripping down his length. You sway, but Jeongguk holds you up, keep your gaze focused on the mirror as his hips draw away, before returning back with a force that catches your tongue between your teeth. He fucks you hard with a need you’ve never felt before, a purpose driving his hips forward until you feel your body given way, the sound of your meeting resounding through the room, hard and fast and wet. And yet his hands hold you together carefully, delicate with your fragility but firm like he needs you to know something. You think you do, and this side of him is both pleasant and terrifying. Nobody has ever touched you like this before, fucked you open like this before. But then again Jeongguk did say only him. And he meant it, judging from how his hand snakes to your cunt, landing right where you need him as if he’s memorised your body, engraved parts of him into his brain forever. It feels like he wants you to do the same, with how hard his hips drive forward, moaning low in your ear as his body tenses. You’re close too, but not there yet. Jeongguk can feel that, knows that tremor in your thighs is not enough. So he bites it back, holds that drop in his gut as he moulds your body into his, thrusts deep and slow.

“God – Jeon – J-Jeongguk – I can’t – can’t–” You look gorgeous like this, head lolling back and your hips shift to meet him.

“You can,” his fingers move faster, determined. “Be good for me, hmm?”

“But–” It appears faster than you’d like, a violent flash that pulls from within as Jeongguk unravels you. You can still feel him, buried deep and throbbing hard against your walls. Your legs want to give in but Jeongguk holds you up, forces you through it with shallow bucks of his hips against your heat, groaning low when your walls tighten around his length. He falls then, right into the heat of his want, spilling deep inside of you with choked whine and a kiss against your shoulder. It feels long and like it happens in a blink at the same time, but even as he stills you can feel him inside you, twitching around the pool of cum dripping from your cunt.

There’s another kiss on your shoulder as Jeongguk slowly pulls himself out. His cum follows quick, slipping from your cunt with is. You note how he watches it, how his fingers twitch with the instinct to stuff it back inside. You can’t help but roll your eyes. That was something you did when you were trying and there’s already proof of that effort right in your belly. He moves to plant another kiss though, right on your cheek while his hands sneak down to fulfil their desire. You halt them with a gentleness.

“I need to shower, Jeongguk.” The comment produces a pout on his lips. You kiss it away. “You have work too, babes. Get in with me.” He complies, still insistently drifting his hands downwards. A simple man honestly. With very simple needs.

→

With Jeongguk’s new position and your new predicament changes have rapidly happened. The search for a bigger apartment commenced right after your birthday announcement. At first, you didn’t find it necessary to uproot your whole life from your current apartment, with its quaint location and scattered memories. But Jeongguk wasn’t thinking about that, mind already focused on the future. He wanted a better district, closer to primary schools and day cares with stellar reputation. It was mildly unnerving, to see him come back from work, tie loose and his cheeks flushed from walking up the hill to your home with a list of new places they should go to, recommended by his colleagues. You’d asked around too, and slowly seeing one or two new places jumped from five to ten and eventually thirteen. All of them were disappointing in some way; either Jeongguk or you weren’t satisfied with the garden space, or he found the baby’s room to cramped, or the apartment too close to the main roads. Or the furnishing would not be adequate enough for the rent the landlord was charging. He also wanted benefits, perhaps a gym in the apartment complex or space to build one for himself in a private home. It quickly became apparent to you that Jeongguk wasn’t just looking for a new space, but rather the perfect forever home for him and his family.

Family.

A word you’ve slowly become accustomed to saying in your head. Jeongguk was your partner, and for the most part your family – but this, the baby in your belly. That was your family. A child that belongs to you as much as they belong to Jeongguk. It’s a foreign concept, but your heart swells in anticipation for it every time Jeongguk comes home for work, exhausted by lightening up the second his eyes fall on you and your stomach. It deepens during your doctor’s appointments, quietly observing the attentiveness Jeongguk directs to those meetings, how he notes down every bit of advice the doctors suggest. And its blooms when you begin find copies of parentings books around the house. You’d bought a few of your own for your journey but the shiny novel labelled: ‘Parenting Guide: For New Fathers’ sitting on your kitchen counter does something to you. Jeongguk wanted this more than he let on, and the fact that he was willing to give it up when you felt reluctant shows just how much he loves and cares for you. It feels like a blessing that everything aligned in its own way, perhaps drawn into your life by the desires of your boyfriend and partially by your longing for them too.

You’re lucky enough to find the perfect place thanks to Seokjin. A modern high-rise with the perks Jeongguk wants and enough room for your family to blossom, plus a playground space for your baby to grow in. It’s an arm and a leg to afford but Jeongguk was adamant to provide, and in the back of your head you were already thinking of side-things you can do to support your devoted lover. You move in towards the beginning of January, your previous lease drawing to an end at the perfect time. The new year is ushered in with new furniture and kisses in empty rooms, your sweaters stretching hard over your growing tummy. The journey feels both long and short, marked by moments with your mother, friends and Jeongguk and most importantly by yourself. Hours spent in front of the mirror observing your body change and transform into something new – something strong enough to create life within. Perhaps it’s always been that, yet seeing it occur right before your eyes has been astounding. Jeongguk keeps a steady eye on you, a weight lifting off his shoulders when you finally hand in your resignation letter. Seungmin is surprised, but he stares at your stomach with grudgingness that makes you feel sick.

(And you are the moment you get home, even with the first trimester over).

“Women,” he had muttered under his breathe. “Good for nothing but having babies and abandoning work.”

At first you’d wanted to ignore it, have your final day in the office be a pleasant calm one. Your co-workers were pretty nice, albeit occasionally annoying and deriving too much gratification in gossip but they were nice. Yet how could you, when the source of your stress and anxiety had the nerve to speak to you like that.

“You’re a real fucking piece of shit, you know.” And just like that Seungmin had shut-up, narrowed eyes staring at you in disbelief. “What the fuck have I ever done to you? My work has always been excellent unlike the subpar shit you usually get from everyone here. And yet you’ve been nothing but an annoying piece of shit to me and half your employees here. I don’t know who made you like this but I suggest you leave that shit at the door when you walk in – or else you’ll be dealing with more than just an angry pregnant lady. I’ve heard some pretty interesting harassment lawsuits have been springing up.”

He hadn’t said anything, mouth agape as you’d gotten up, your bag tight in your arms. “Learn to fucking respect the people you work with, or else someone will teach you that lesson.”

You’d stormed out, passing quick goodbyes as your stomach swayed with dread. It had taken more from you than you’d expected but it trepidation had passed as quick as your head hitting toilet the second you’d gotten home. Jeongguk considered buying you a cake just for that, and you’d told him to shut-up. But you could feel like pride and relief in the hug hid given you after you’d told him, and that was all that truly mattered in the grand scheme of things. Not life-sucking leeches like Seungmin.

→

You never really wanted a baby shower. It just felt so overwhelming and attention-seeking to demand that everyone in your life pays mind to you and the baby you were growing, but as pregnancy went on, Yoona and Soomi couldn’t help but insist, taking on the burden of planning it. Jeongguk has helped too, picky over the food and colour co-ordinations to the point where Yoona is considering never talking to him again.

“He’s going to be a nightmare when you plan your wedding,” she says it over a mouthful of rice, swiping through flower arrangement pictures. “Why the hell does he know the difference between gold and rose-gold I can’t even get my husband to figure out two different shades of blue.”

You’d shrugged, the smile on your lips small. “He really likes art, maybe that’s why.”

“A designer’s eye,” Yoona comments, sweeping over the apartment. “I knew they was no way you were responsible for this. Remember when you wanted to paint your apartment walls orange… I’m so glad you met him.”

“Hey! Orange is a really nice colour, it’s very warm and welcoming.”

“Orange is gross and gives people migraines – who have you ever seen purposefully paint their home in the shade of bright orange?” The quirk of her eyebrow makes you laugh, but your still adamant like always.

“It could have been me; I could have been the first.”

“And the last if anyone was smart enough. How’s the baby room coming along.”

You’re up in an instant, partially weighed by the new heaviness in your stomach and chest. “Wanna see? Jeongguk did most of it.” She nods, following you through your new home to the room right beside yours. It opens up to reveal a wide room, painted a pretty pastel yellow, tiny birds and flower wreathes lining the walls. Jeongguk had done it himself, along with the images of Bambi placed on opposing walls. It was his favourite Disney movie after all, and if he aimed on converting your child into loving it too you don’t mind. The crib is adorned with pillow and plushies, carefully picked out for their softness, along with a faded blue blanket that belonged to Jeongguk. His mother had kept it, somewhat pristine for its age and former use. The rest of the room was filled with paraphernalia; a rocking chair given by Namjoon, an assortment of toys partially handed over by Seokjin as his kids have aged and pretty star mobile swaying over the crib.

Yoona’s delight is evident in her smile, padding around the room with the movement of something you can only describe as mother-like. “I could give you baby clothes by the way – Jonghyun is growing so fast and I don’t know what to do with them.”

“That would be nice, thank you.”

“You’re okay with boy clothes? Wait – are you having a boy?”

You roll your eyes, moving forward into the room. “No, we decided to keep it a secret from ourselves, you know this I bet Jeongguk told you.” From the sly shift of her gaze he did. “Soomi is the only one who knows.”

“Why Soomi and why not me?” Yoona pouts, looking exactly like her high-school self.

“Because,” you respond, “Soomi can keep a secret and you can’t.” Her laugh is soft and good-natures because she knows it’s true too.

You fall into small silence, one that feels like memories. How you’d met this girl at the tender age of ten and kept her in your life as you’ve grown from young and wild teenager, confused and reckless adults to this. Mothers. A part of your future that you never truly saw coming.

“He did all of this?” Yoona supplies into the silence. You hum a noise of agreement. “He really cares.”

“He does.”

“I think that’s nice. It’s good you meet him that day – and if I recall when you called me right after you were already calling it the worst day of your life. Now look.”

And you do, fondness creeping forth from your chest. “It was the worst day of my life. He cost me an important job.”

“And he ended up giving you this,” Yoona returns, moving to slip her hand into yours. “A fair trade doesn’t you think.”

“Not a bad one at all,�� you say. Your laughs are as light as the dawn sun just breaking beyond the horizon, coloured bright like the paint on the wall of your child’s future room.

“You’re gonna miss this,” Yoona says, squeezing your hand softly. “Once it’s all gone and everyday feels like a challenge… These moments you’re gonna miss them.”

“You miss being pregnant?”

“Maybe,” Yoona wonders out-loud, the look she gives you sneaky. “Jonghyun needs a sibling.”

“God please, give yourself a break. And besides,” You glance at your tummy. “He has a friend on the way.”

Another moment of silence falls, as you both stare at your future while your hand clings to your past and present.

“Remember what I said, at my baby shower?” Yoona whispers, her fingers gripping onto you.

“I remember.” It’s funny that she brings it up, considering what happened that night.

“Well… I’m happy we’re doing this together.” You pause, turning to face her, the smile on her hips matching yours.

“I’m happy we’re doing this together too.” And when she pulls you close for a hug, you remember the girl you once were, unsure and stumbling. It feels nice to know that Yoona was there for you then, and she’s here for you now.

(The shower is more than a success, filled with memories you’ll treasure for ever – and images of Taehyung in a diaper stamped into your memory forever. Yoona and Soomi were right through; having one gave you moments to remember and it felt warm, to be surrounded by the tender adoration and love for your family celebrating the start of something new.)

→

Your baby is late. It’s fitting actually, because that’s something you would do if you were about to be born. But it’s starting to get on your nerves. There’s an unspoken edge hanging in the room, amplified by the constant concerned looks Jeongguk has been throwing your way since your child decided to hang in your womb for a little longer. You’ve been trying to ignore it, but it’s hard when he’s checking up on you for contractions and when the hospital bag has been sitting beside the door for three whole days now. You drown his concern (and yours) with bowls of popcorn and a strange new-found interest in watching old romantic comedies. Jeongguk paces around the apartment while Bridget Jones gets locked in a Taiwan jail for attempted drug smuggling. It would have been a funny moment, expect Jeongguk’s pacing as has the baby moving too and now there’s a tiny foot trying to murder you from the inside. So much energy, an obvious mark of Jeongguk’s genes because any child of yours would definitely prefer to not move instead of brutalising their mother’s insides.

“You’re sure we shouldn’t just go in? Get a check-up or something?” Jeongguk heads peaks from the living-room door frame, locks tousled from the fretting of his fingertips.

“No,” you return, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth. It’s more for the effect rather than from enjoyment because for some reason it tastes weird. “We called already, babes. It’s okay, leave the baby alone they’re not ready for the world yet.”

A hard kick into your ribs and you immediately regret saying that. Maybe the baby should just come out – you’re ready for them to.

There’s a line of worry digging into his forehead. “Are you sure? I don’t like this – what if something’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say. And fortunately as far as you and the doctors know, nothing is. All the ultrasound and check-up appointments had confirmed that your baby was growing steadily and healthy inside of you. Maybe they just wanted to stay in for a little bit before meeting the word.

“Y/N…” He shifts into the room, beautiful face weighed with concern. “We can go just to check–”

“I’m not doing that Jeongguk.” It’s firm and a little mean but he was fussing like he was the one with a huge baby sitting on his bladder.

“Alright.” It’s a quiet resignation. He moulds into the pillow beside you, careful not to brush against your belly. During the early stages you didn’t mind but now there was a sensitivity that left you irritated and vexed if his hand lingered for longer that five seconds. But you can feel him staring at it and a part of you feels bad for dismissing his concerns. You reach out without a second thought, guiding his palm to the side of your tummy where the kicks echo through.

A huff drifts from his mouth, soft and wondrous. “Strong little girl,” he mumbles, following the pads of the kicks as they breach from under your skin.

“Girl? Did my mom tell you?”

“It’s definitely a girl. She’s stubborn for staying in there when I want to me her. Exactly like you.”

You flick his forehead, caught off guard by the awe sitting in his wide doe eyes. “Mean.”

“How?” Jeongguk whines, petal lips forming a pout. “Bubba, your Mom is calling me mean. Imagine – me!”

“And you called her stubborn.”

“I called you stubborn, she’s a by-product of you so it’s still really your fault.” That playful glint surfaces with an ease that shouldn’t leave you breathless. You hope she has his eyes

“Jeon, shut-up before I something terrible happens to you.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? It’s been six years of empty threats. If you wanted me gone you wouldn’t have had my kid.” You close your eyes in frustration, missing the very important airport scene that all romantic comedies tend to milk to the point of death. Jeongguk laughs at your misery, cooing with the baby kicks against your belly again, as if she’s laughing with him.

She. You’ve been avoiding any gender nouns since the baby shower but now that word seems fitting. A little girl. Your daughter.

“You’re both horrible people,” you return, idly dropping popcorn in your mouth.

Jeongguk gasps, as false as the acting displayed on your television. “Bubba did you hear that? Mom called you a horrible person and she was calling me mean!”

You whack his head, whining when the baby responds to his silly comment with a fist into your stomach. “God, Jeon stop. She gets hyper when you talk to her.”

“She?” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow, still smiling.

“She,” you return.

He falls quiet, staring at your stomach with careful consideration before you see it click in his head. “Anyway, as I was saying –”

“Jeongguk!”

It’s too late and your girl is already awake, kicking and punching every which way like you’re not the sole thing keeping her alive. Jeongguk just giggles but moves with to resettle the pillows behind your back, alleviating what discomfort he can. The tension that gripped the air suddenly lets loose, a calmness filling your head as the evening draws to a close. You only get anxious when you have to slip into bed with him, stomach too far stretched out for you to attain any source of ease. Jeongguk’s already learned to read you well, giving you space and extra pillows where he can, the only thing you hold onto during the night his hand. Somehow, you fall asleep, until your body jerks you awake, a searing pain bleeding through your lower limbs. The ache eats through your grogginess, pulling you up and out of bed where you find with a sudden violent shock that your pyjama pants are soaked. And yet you never panic, fumbling for the lights and heading to the bathroom to pat yourself awake before the next wave of pain stings through.

You poke Jeongguk awake, his eyes snapping open with an urgency that startles you.

“What’s wrong?” His back rips from the mattress as he twists to take you in. “Are you hurt? Sore? Hungry?”

“None of those. I think my water just broke though.”

“Your – what? W-water? You think?” There’s a pause, and then Jeongguk is bounding from the bed like he’s being hunted down and chased. The paleness that sweeps over his face coaxes a giggle out of you, which is immediately washed away by another brief bout of pain.

“Shit,” the word is mumbled again and again under his breath as he runs through the house, collecting last minute things. In a moment he’s guiding you to the door with no shirt but shoes on, keys gripped tight in his hand. “Do we do the breathing thing now? And when was the last contraction? I need to time them.”

“Jeongguk,” you sigh, “Could I change first. I don’t think going to the hospital in Micky Mouse pyjamas is very fitting. And you need to put a shirt on.”

He freezes, spine straight and forehead beading with sweat. “S-sorry–shit. I’m just freaking out let me help you.”

“I’m freaking out too, Jeon. But let’s be calm about it right?”

“Right,” he returns. “But we seriously need to get to the hospital because of the baby comes right now I might faint.”

“Not helping. Jeongguk!”

“Yeah, of course. You put out the set you wanted in the first drawer right?”

“Second drawer. The light blue ones.”

He leaves you staring at the hard wooden floors of your home as he runs to get them, a slight sweat building down your back. The contractions are still spread out, not frequent or concerning just yet. You wanted to stay home for a little to be frank, but judging from the frazzled nature of Jeongguk’s movements you’d rather not ask your boyfriend to wait before rushing into the hospital. You watch him with fondness as he dresses you in the living-room, doe eyes wide with concern and stuck on your stomach. There’s a shirt over his head at least, and a change from his sleeping sweats into clean dark ones.

“Jeongguk,” you whisper.

“Yes?” It’s said with high-alert. “Does it hurt? Should we do the breathing–”

“Jeongguk,” you interrupt. “I think you need to calm down.”

“I am calm.”

You give him a look.

“Okay, I’m not calm,” Jeongguk returns. “But I’m also facing the very real fact that our baby has decided to come into the world in the middle of the night and you’re not freaking out at all which is making me very nervous.”

“I am,” you reply. “I’m just trying to contain it because I don’t want to make it worse. And while I love you Jeongguk I need you not to go crazy on me right now. And I thought you wanted to meet her, she’s decided to come today since you were complaining about it.”

He frowns, lips puckered in an exasperated pout. “Sorry–just–it’s just–I didn’t think it was going to be this scary.”

“It’s not. We just need to get the hospital and everything is going to be okay. So let’s focus on getting into the car first and then we can do the breathing practises, okay.”

Jeongguk stills, eyes drifting to your stomach. You see his shoulder fall lax, a sudden protectiveness lingering on his face. “Okay, let’s start with that.”

→

You were wrong. Very wrong. About everything. Staying at home for even twenty minutes more would have been the worst decision you had ever made because when you baby decided to come into the world, she decided she was coming in fast. Viciously fast. Maybe Jeongguk’s crazed concerned was warranted. Your contractions speed up and get worse during the brief trip to the hospital, and by the time you’re walking in past the doors you’re considered maiming Jeongguk so that he never gets the idea that you want a child again. The staff is incredibly helpful, leading you to your room and bed while Jeongguk calls his parents and yours. It feels both rushed and like everyone is taking their sweet time with you, as if there was a baby literally trying to rip its way out of you. The nurses take the noting of the times Jeongguk recorded, immediately pointing out that your contractions have speed up but not enough to head down to the theatre. Soomi arrives during the two hours they give you to settle, occasionally popping into the check your dilation and contractions.

Her hair is a mess and you can hear the faint sound of Jimin consoling Jeongguk in the hallway. Which is stupid because he’s not the one giving birth, you are.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Soomi starts, drawing near with a container of food. She notes the look of disdain you throw it’s in direction, quickly discards it on a nearby stool.

“Thinking about killing Jeongguk,” you respond. The epidural you requested is not kicking in fast enough.

She laughs, a bright thing that eases you edges a little. “I said the exact same thing when Bora decided to come.”

“Where is she?” You ask, forcing a smile when Jimin walks in the stupid spawn of evil who put you in this hospital bed.

“Taehyung’s. Seokjin and Yoongi are coming tomorrow morning. You think she’ll be here by then? Soomi inquires. You catch the slip of her tongue, a faint smile spreading on your lips as you mumble a greeting to Jimin.

“So it is a girl,” you comment. Jeongguk halts beside you. Maybe you won’t murder him just yet.

“W-well, I – I mean – well, yes it is.”

You’re glad Soomi was the only one who knew. A secret kept right until the last minute.

“I told you,” Jeongguk interjects. “I had a feeling.”

“And I’m feeling like ending your life, so maybe don’t talk right now.”

Jimin’s laughter is loud and unabashed, a direct contrast to the nervous blush staining Jeongguk’s cheeks.

“And now you know why I was scared of Soomi, right?” Jimin comments, ignoring the threatening glare his wife spears into his head. “Have you picked a name yet?”

“Not really,” you return, noticing Jeongguk’s sudden silence. You reach for his hand, heart aching with the fear you might have heart him. He responds automatically, clinging right back onto you. “But there are ideas. We’ll know when we see her.” You say the last sentence while staring at his face, mind already conjuring the image of your girl. Will she have his nose? His cherry cheeks? Will she smile like him? You hope she does – Jeongguk has the best smile in the world. He’s staring at your face like he’s wondering the same, gaze flicking over your features with careful consideration, a gentleness in his eyes that warms you heart even when your contractions decide to resurface, clamouring to be heard in the waves of pain that follow.

“Hey,” there’s a soft hand on your head. “You’ll be okay.” Jeongguk looks worried but you can see him trying to hide it, shoulder tense but his eyes soft.

You respond with a mumbled noise of agreement. “Yeah, when this baby gets the hell out of me. Can somebody call the nurse; my beeper isn’t working.”

Jimin does, leaving Soomi and Jeongguk to hang over you like grey clouds in the sky. You stop focusing on them, letting the murmurs of their encouragement fade into the distance as your focus settles on the bright luminescent hospital lights. Everything shifts into a state of surrealness, marked by moments of doctors prodding you and Jeongguk catching your gaze from his place at your side. Eventually you’re pushed into the theatre room, followed by a trembling Jeon Jeongguk in scrubs and a mask. Soomi and Jimin linger in the hallways while the only thing you hear is one stupid word.

You push until you think you’ve split into two, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand because he should go through this pain too. He doesn’t protest, mumbling words of comfort in your ear while you attempt to crack the bones in his hand.

“You’re doing so well – see look she’s almost here,” he murmurs, hand a grounding force when he strokes your cheek. “Just one more, my love. One more push.”

And then finally, finally, you hear that cry, the pressure in your hips waning. It’s immediately replaced by a quiet awe descending on your both. The nurses congratulate you, cleaning and swaddling your baby up before hastily placing her on your chest. If the tears on your face are from pain or love you wouldn’t know. They are one and the same right now, the splitting of your heart aching in your chest as the love for your child pours out. She’s got his nose. You see it instantly, her eyes are still shut, but you think she has his eyes too. She’s so adorable and too tiny for the world. You feel it then, the fierce need to protect her from anything and everything. Jeongguk’s drops down to your level too, enclosing you both like he feels it too. There’s no need for words to be said, the silent exchange of wonder between you two enough as your baby breaks into weak forlorn cry.

Her name is a quiet decision, vocalised by Jeongguk reaching to graze his thumb across her small cheek. “Hello Jieun-ie…. Hi baby... Don’t cry bubba, we’re here. Hmm, we’re here my love.”

→

Jieun is a blessing. There’s something about her gummy little smile and those chubby mochi like cheeks that makes your heart warm with adoration. She’s got Jeongguk’s eyes too, little stars trapped in her loving gaze. It’s almost addictive, how soft and plush she is in your arms. You want her to stay small and tiny forever, under the protective gaze of her mother. Even the slightest thought of anything negative happening to her, makes your heart seize with terror. You didn’t know it was possible to have space for this much love in your heart but Jieun’s carved out a place just for her, a home in your heart besides Jeongguk.

You try and think of that love and warmth during moments like this - when she’s up all night, screaming her lungs out. You’ve checked her diaper, nothing. You’ve gently directed her wailing mouth to your nipple, immediate rejection from her chubby hands. You’ve rocked her around the room for the past forty minutes, softly bouncing her against your hip, but to no avail either. She’s not hungry, or dirty or tired. You’re lost on how to ease her back to sleep and your patience is quickly wearing thin. The gurgle of spit on your shoulder isn’t making the situation any more tolerable either anyway.

“Why’s my baby crying,” Jeongguk coos from the bedroom, voice groggy with sleep. You’d left him in bed and taken Jieun out when she’d gotten fussy, afraid to rouse him. He’d picked up some long shift once again and it pained you to see him shuffle to work early in the morning with barely any sleep on his face.

“I’ve got her; you can go back to sleep.” You try to reassure him but the incredulous look he gives in you in response has your put together facade crumbling. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” It’s mumbled in the cool air of your apartment, the shame in your tone drawing him closer.

“Hungry?” He says, there’s a hand against the small of your back, warm from the bed he was wrapped in.

“No,” You whine back, briefly closing your eyes when Jieun lets out a particular ear splitting wail.

“Oh no, baby. Don’t cry. Daddy’s here.” You press her into his hands wordlessly, a heavy weight on your chest when you finally take a look at him. He looks like he’s been run over by a truck, skin pasty and flat from sleep. His hair sticks out haphazardly from his head, a wild brown mane that’s overdue for a cut. There’s shadows under his eyes and a deep line forming between his eyebrows. A consequence of how often he frowns at things. Like he’s doing at Jieun now, eyes barely open in the dim light filling your living room.

You subconsciously reach out, pressing the pad of your thumb between his brows and massaging until his gaze relaxes. Jeongguk looks at you perplexed, murmuring sweetly into Jieun’s ear while he stains his shirt with her snot.

“Premature wrinkles,” you softly mutter. His eyes flash and then he’s shaking his head, gaze focused on Jieun.

“Bubba, why do you keep crying? Hmm?” He lifts her up gently, sniffing her bottom while she protests violently. “You’re not dirty either.” He cradles her tenderly once again and for a brief moment, she closes her mouth, wide eyes on her daddy. Neither of you move, frozen by the hope that she's satiated. And then her lips purse tightly, followed by them falling open with a thundering wail.

“Jesus,” Jeongguk whispers, hands gently running along her back. “Where do you get your lungs from? Huh bubba?” Jieun responds with a miserable cry, grubby hands flailing through the air. You catch one for her marshmallow fists, bemused when she smacks your hand away.

“What is wrong with her?” You can’t help but ask, feeling like you’ve been thrown off a boat and left to drown. Parenting shouldn’t be this difficult —  she’s only five months.

“Honestly?” Jeongguk's face seems down. “I don’t know either.” He rocks her softly and is rewarded by a softer cry. It takes a couple more minutes of bouncing from Jeongguk for her crying to wane away. You cautiously move closer, taking her hand into your own again, heart thumping when she grabs back at you tightly. You trail your thumb against her tiny fist, glancing up to find Jeongguk staring at your joint hands with a weird look in his eyes.

“Should we go to bed?” He asks, peering at you beneath his long brown bangs. Jieun hiccups at that, immediately falling silent when she nuzzles in her father’s neck. They have the same soft wavy brown hair, but Jieun’s is a little bit sparser, not as thick as her Daddy’s. You gently pry your hand away from hers as you nod, a pleased sigh coming from Jeongguk.

The bed is cool, sheets tipping towards the floor. There’s only a fraction of warmth against your skin when you finally crawl in, bones going soft at the touch of the mattress. Jeongguk makes a move to settle Jieun in her cradle but you shake your head, hand gesturing to the space beside you. He gets in without another word, gently resting her body between the two of you. Her breathing is even, eyes fluttering every other moment, teasing dreams you won’t ever hear and she won’t ever remember. You hope they’re good regardless.

You can’t help the wandering hand that settles on her plush little thigh, fingers grazing against the soft skin there. She’s so big already, it’s insane to see her grow so quickly right before your eyes. This was the girl who was kicking your stomach at every chance and sitting heavy on your bladder. The little baby that demanded you eat pickles with ice-cream and Cheetos dipped in chocolate syrup when she was in your belly. It’s surreal to see her sighing and gurgling outside of your body. It also makes you nervous, how little control you have over her environment. There’s no way you can ensure that she’s comfortable and safe at all times. Or happy and fulfilled. Which hurts like hell. This is your baby and you would do anything to protect her.

Maybe Jeongguk must feel the same because he pipes up, breaking the quiet of the night. “Are you worried? About Jieun?”

“Of course. Aren’t you?”

“All the damn time,” He mutters. You look up, eyes landing on the heavy gaze that’s directed at her sleeping face. “I’m so worried. What if we’re messing this up? I know we’ve barely started but sometimes it feels like too much. I don’t want to see her cry or you tired all the time. How do we know we’re doing the right thing? I want to make sure she’s stable and safe but there’s so much more to come and I’m going to mess up. I know I will.”

It’s a lot for you to digest. The way he blurts it out — it sounds like it’s been on his mind for a while now. It’s a stark contrast to the surety you were greeted with in the delivery room and the man who wanted this to happen in the first place. He doesn’t sound regretful, just terrified of the uncertainty of the future.

“Jeongguk,” You say, trying to wipe the exhaustion from your voice. He needs someone to lean on right now, and even if your heart feels heavy with the words he’s said, you’ll pretend to be that person anyway. “That’s okay. I’m going to mess up too. There’s no manual on how to do this. No one knows how to be a parent. Every child is different. We’re never going to be perfect. We just need to try our best at this.” You reach for his hand, intertwining your small fingers against his larger bigger ones. You give them a squeeze, pleased when Jeongguk looks up at you. “That’s all we need to do. Not everything will be perfect. We just need to try our best to make Jieun happy. Right?” He nods at that, holding your hand tighter. “And stop worrying. She loves you. You’re a great dad.”

He stares at you deeply, still gripping your hand. You watch that soft smile slip onto his face in silence, a warmth bubbling in your chest.

“And you’re a great mom,” He whispers back. You ache to lean over Jieun’s sleeping body, press a chaste kiss against your boyfriend’s lips. But a loud gurgle from her has both of you glancing down concerned. She’s kicking her legs gently, mouth halfway open and drool around her lips. You wipe her mouth fondly, letting go of Jeongguk’s hand to do so.

“We should sleep, shouldn’t we,” He mumbles, burrowing his head into the pillow.

“We should.”

“Hmm. Goodnight bubba,” He whispers at Jieun and then he glances up, eyes soft. “Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jeongguk,” You return, giddy for some stupid reason. “Goodnight Jieun-ie.”

There’s a beat of silence, when the air is only filled with the rise and fall of your chests in union, punctuated by the occasional sigh from Jieun. And then Jeongguk is kicking your feet beneath the blanket, eyes open and on you.

“I love you,” He whispers, crust forming around his eyes. You kick him back, a warm feeling settling in your chest as your eyes flicker between your baby and the love of your life. It’s oddly perfect, despite the lack of sleep, despite how groggy the both of you are, despite the uncertainty of the future. None of that matters at that moment. Because you’re here, in your home, in bed with the two people you hold near and dear to your heart. You’ll tackle it together, whatever challenges the future holds for you. Because this is your family.

“I love you too, Jeongguk.”

[sinner-as-saint]

Poison Paradise.

Requests were sent in for fratboy!Bucky, tattooed Biker!Bucky and modern Bastard son!Bucky so here’s everything, in one. 

Themes: smut, biker!bucky, fluff

This is how I picture Bucky for this   

Bucky Barnes is the most popular guy on campus. He’s arrogant, and proud and somewhat of a bad boy. He’s loud, and a well-known troublemaker. He’s every professor’s nightmare. But he’s also drop dead gorgeous, with the kind of charm which made him hard to resist.

He was beautiful, but also dark and dangerous, like a poisoned paradise. 

Frat house parties, getting wasted and then getting in trouble with his friends, always on his notorious loud bike which made all the girls almost worship the ground he walks on. 

You always kept a safe distance from him and his friends. However, little did you know that he always kept an eye on you. After all, you were his step brother’s best friend. 

Bucky hated his step brother with a passion. Mainly because the latter was the only legitimate child to their dad and due to that, Bucky sort of became the black sheep of the family while everyone else idolized his step brother - Steve. 

Bucky always tried to stay away from Steve; never wanted to get in his business, stayed away from his friend group, and vowed to never talk to any of Steve’s friends. But that was until the day he saw you at a party. With Steve. 

He managed to find a way to come up and talk to you. And he was aware that the whole room stared as he made his way over to you. Sleeves of tattoos on both arms, ears pierced, dogs tags dangling and bringing more attention to his broad, muscular chest and tan skin. 

You had to admit, although an incorrigible fuckboy, Bucky Barnes was gorgeous. And those steel blue eyes of his made you weak in the knees. “So, are you Steve’s girlfriend?” He asked, all cocky as he leaned against the counter, facing you in the crowded kitchen. 

You blinked a few times, got over the fact that the most popular guy on campus was just here having a conversation with you. “Uh, no. We’re just good friends.” 

Bucky nodded, and smirked. “Good.” His answer made you frown. He took a step or two and leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Because else I’d have to get rid of him to make you mine.” 

His words sent shivers down your spine. And once you recovered, you pulled away and faced him confidently. Cocky little shit. “In your dreams, Bucky.” 

He chuckled, “Trust me babygirl, you don’t wanna know about what we do in my dreams.” he winked and gave you that smile which won over all the girls in a heartbeat. And although he was hard to resist, you found the courage to push him off and walk away. 

Since that first interaction, it began - the chase. Bucky loved it, because most of the time the girls threw themselves at him. But not you, you on the contrary were pushing him away. But even he hit his limit eventually. So when he found you walking back to campus from your shift at the bakery one night, he decided to give you a ride. You were walking on the side walk when you heard the roar of his engine, you walked faster but he was beside you in no time, causing you to stop and stare even though you tried hard not to. 

Fuck... he always looked so, delicious. The right amount of mysterious and hot. Bad boy charm which no one could resist. “Come on doll, it’s cold out. I won’t let you walk alone.” He persisted. 

You glared at him and tightened your jacket around you. “I’m not getting on your bike.” You had always feared his mean, dark and dangerous looking bike. 

He took his black helmet off and faced you again. His deep blue eyes looking deep into yours. “You’ll be fine doll, there’s not need to be afraid. All you have to do is hold me tight.” he spoke with a smirk. 

To be honest, he looked like he was warm too. Plus it began drizzling a little and if you didn’t accept to take a ride with him, you’d have a cold by the time you made it back to your dorm. “Fine.” you muttered and Bucky quickly handed you the other, matching, helmet he always kept. 

The ride back to campus was just how you imagined it would be; quiet with just the sound of the cold wind and light rain. Your arms wrapped around his torso instinctively and your heart raced as how close he was to you. His warm, hard and firm back pressing against you. You hated that you enjoyed the ride. 

“So can I take you out?” he asked, out of nowhere once you got off his bike. 

You eyes widened at him. “Give up Bucky. I won’t date you.” 

He smirked, like he had been ready for this. “Why? ‘Cause you like Steve?” He sounded all cocky again. 

“What? No. He’s a good friend.” 

“Prove it.” Bucky scoffed. And you raised your eyebrow at him. He spoke again, “Go out with me and prove it. Else I’ll just lie and tell everyone that you’re in love with Steve.” 

You sighed, annoyed and lowkey blushing. “What are we, five year olds?” 

Bucky smirked and parked his bike and got off. Watching him get off that mean bike of his and removing his helmet was no less than watching a strip show. It excited you just the same. The way his arms flexed, and how he secured that helmet under his arm and how his dog tags looked all shiny in the dimmed lights and the look in his eyes... oh the look in his stormy blue eyes... 

He approached you, leaned in closer, grabbed your chin in between his cold fingers and pressed his lips to yours. You were surprised, but once you got a taste of his lips, you couldn’t help but kiss him back. 

He kissed you deeply, taking his time and savoring you. His tongue stroking the top of your mouth and making you all crazy. He placed his hand at your waist gently, pulling you closer. He kissed you until the taste of his mouth was branded in your head.

Moments later, when he pulled away he looked at you and mumbled, “Gotta say, you taste sweeter than the goodies at the bakery.” He winked and left. Left you standing there and admitting that yes – you were indeed falling under his spell and you were diving in head first.

Fuck, this is gonna be messy.

First date, he came to pick you up and took you to a cozy, warm diner not far from campus.

Second date, at a beach just in time to catch the sunset.

By the third date, you began realizing that actually Bucky wasn’t as bad as everyone thought he was. Sure he was cocky and arrogant, but he was also a deep thinker and a little bit of a space nerd. He had conspiracy theories on almost everything.

You two kept your… close bond, if you will, a secret. Especially from Steve. How could you tell your best friend that you had been going on dates with his half-brother whom he doesn’t quite get along with?

“Why do you hate Steve?” you dropped the question one night, as you and Bucky sneaked out and went to get ice cream.

“He’s always had it easy. Too easy. He’s perfect, everyone loves him. For once, I… I just need to have something that he can’t have.” His answer rubbed you the wrong way a little.

“Is that why I’m here? Is that why we’ve been hanging out, just so you could show off to Steve?” you asked, and he got quiet. “Bucky?” you called out, ready to leave if he didn’t answer right away.

He looked up at you sheepishly. “In the beginning, yes. But then falling for you wasn’t in the plan, it just sort of happened.” He continued, lowering his eyes. “You’re amazing. You’re kind, and warm and you don’t sugarcoat shit. You say it as it is. You’re not afraid to point out my mistakes. I need that. I need you.”

Oh…

You initially thought you’d be pissed off, but instead, you felt really confident and cocky. “So you like me?”

From that day on, things changed between you and Bucky. You began meeting and going out more frequently. Whenever your roommate was out, Bucky would sneak in and stay the night. He was quite an affectionate guy, much to your surprise.

Lots of hugs and kisses

Even more bike rides.

Dating fratboy/biker/bastard son!Bucky would include;

Realizing how much cleaner and tidy Bucky’s room was compared to the rest of the boys at the frat house

Always being invited to the frat house parties

Eventually telling Steve about you and Bucky. He wasn’t the happiest person when he heard it, but he did tell you that if Bucky hurts you, he would kick his ass and would enjoy it.

Not talking about his family, especially his dad, because it upsets him.

Him ditching ‘the boys’ to come hang out with you.

Him scaring away any potential new friends of yours with his tattoos, dog tags and stand-offish manner.

Movie nights would mainly be him watching the movie while cuddling you, but all your attention would go to his sleeves of tattoos and you could spend hours and hours just admiring them.

Playing with his dog tags whenever you’re napping together and he falls asleep faster.

Stealing his leather jackets, thinking he doesn’t notice because he has LOTS of them. Him noticing but letting you take them anyways.

Him picking you up and dropping to wherever you needed to go on his sexy bike. Oh you loved it.

You being a positive influence on him, and encouraging him to get his grades up and stop messing around so much. He was still just as mischievous, only a much better student as well.

And lots of sex; Bucky Barnes was insatiable…

“Babe come on,” he’d whine each time he’d come over to find you studying. “You can study later.” Making his way over to where you were sat in your bed. He’d make himself comfortable beside you, pushing his face into your neck and kissing your skin until you could no longer focus on homework. He’d smirk each time, knowing he was successful in distracting you and that now he’d have you all to himself for the rest of the night.

Bucky was also very jealous. Territorial, he preferred to call it.

“You’re mine, and I don’t want you around other guys.”

“Steve’s my friend! He’s your brother for fuck’s sake!”

“Half brother! And no, he’s not your friend. He wants you.”

“Bucky, shut up-,”

He’d cut you off with a kiss, pushing you against the wall and pinning your hands above your head. Kissing you hard, and making you moan a little. “I don’t wanna argue. You’re mine, and that’s that.”

He’d undress you in less than a minute; his lips and hands never leaving your body. He’d have you gasping and begging for more before he even touches you properly.

His hand would find it’s way in between your legs, fingers slipping past your wet entrance. You’d whine and hold on to him as he finger-fucks you. “Whose making you feel this good, huh baby?” he’d ask, all cocky and being the little shit he is. You’d moan his name and he’d chuckle. “That’s right, I am.” He’d lean in to whisper, “You belong to me. Your sweet, pretty little cunt is mine, you hear me?”

Okay but imagine him fucking you right there against the wall because he just needs to hear to scream his name and he’s too impatient to walk to the bed.

Legs wrapped around his waist, his tattooed arms holding you up, his cold dog tags pressing against your bare chest each time he spreads you open and pounds into you; each thrust deeper and harder than the last.

He’d moan right in your ear, growling each time your walls clenched around him, fucking you hard and fast. “You’re all mine, you get that?” he say through gritted teeth as he rams his cock in and out of you; making you tear up and moan at how well he filled you up and stretched you out.

After making you cum around his cock, he’d probably take you to bed and fuck you again. Pinning your sensitive body down on the bed and pounding into you until you came again, and again. Or maybe he’d eat you out; gently teasing you with his tongue and tasting you until you were so sensitive and overstimulated that you’d have to push him off or beg him to stop.

“Will you be mine?” he asked one night as the two of you were tangled in bed, bodies warm and damp due to fucking like animals just minutes ago.

“Thought I already was.” you teased.

He chuckled and kissed your forehead. “I meant, my girlfriend. Officially.”

You looked up at him and leaned in to kiss his jaw. “Yes.”

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART FOUR

Pt1, Pt2, Pt3

Warnings: fighting with parents and some swearing

---

The bright sunlight hit your eyes and you squinted a little as your feet hit the driveway.

Julie’s song was still playing through your head, and so was your conversation with her last night. The passion in her voice when she sang was the same as when she talked about her mom.

You wanted to run in and comfort her somehow, but Luke seemed insistent on staying outside, making Alex grumble next to you.

“Dude, why did you stop me? Julie needs a hug.”

“A ghost hug is not the feel-good moment you think it is. Trust me.” Luke said. What Julie needs is some privacy.”

“I think you poofed us out because you can’t handle when other people cry.” Alex waved his finger in Luke’s face, making you frown at his words.

It wasn’t a secret that Luke wasn’t the best with feelings, but he had always been there for you. Last night in the darkroom, and again at the diner, and countless other times.

“I should know,” Alex continued, gesturing between Luke and Reggie. “I cried in a room for 25 years, and I didn’t get a single hug from either of you.”

Reggie sighed, opening his arms. “Bring it in.”

“Don’t touch me!”

“This is why no one but (Y/n) hugs you.” Reggie mumbled as you rubbed Alex’s arm.

“Okay.” Luke interrupted. “So, once we get the courage to go in there, we should ask Julie why she lied about playing the piano.”

Alex shrugged. “And maybe tell her how amazing she is?”

You nodded and Reggie exclaimed. “She’s legit! I got ghost-bumps.”

Just then, the gate leading to the house swung open and a girl made her way down the pavement. As she got closer, you could hear her sobbing quietly.

“Oh no, was she crying too?” You asked as the girl entered the garage.

“Yes!” Luke shivered. “We definitely can’t go in there.”

“No, but we can listen.” Reggie ran towards the door, standing on his tip-toes to peek through the window.

“Guys! We can’t eavesdrop, that’s creepy!” You whispered, but the boys ignored you and crowded the door.

Seconds later, they all ducked to avoid being seen and you couldn’t help but be curious. So you ran over and squeezed yourself between Luke and Alex.

“I’m not okay!” The other girl shouted. “You got kicked out of music! I’ve been up all night thinking about what I was gonna say, and I might’ve had seven sodas but I need to get this out.”

“Flynn-” Julie started but Flynn shook her head and started ranting.

“Jules, if you leave the music program, we’ll be apart forever. Sure, we’ll see each other in the hallway sometimes but we’ll make new friends.”

“That’s not true.” Julie said.

“You’re right, I won’t make any new friends. The only time we’ll contact each other is by liking each other’s posts on Instagram. Every time I hit that little heart, mine will be breaking because my best friend left me.”

“What’s Instagram?“ Alex whispered to you. You shrugged, making a mental note to ask Julie later.

Julie sighed. “I just played piano and sang again.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was trying but then your seven sodas kicked in.” Julie laughed.

Flynn squealed. “I’m so happy for you! Look at you, looking all alive again. What made you play again?”

Julie slid her mom’s song across the piano to show Flynn and you couldn’t help but smile. You obviously hadn’t known Julie for long, but you were so happy that she reconnected with her mom and music.

“I was so scared to play it, cause everything having to do with music reminds me of her. But I woke up this morning, realizing that’s exactly why I should play it. To keep her memory alive.”

“We need to tell Mrs. Harrison that you can play so you can stay in the music program. My girl’s back! Double Trouble lives again.”

“Not our band name.” Julie laughed as the girls started walking out of the garage.

“Shit, she’s coming!” You whispered. “Act natural.”

You and Reggie sank to the floor, Luke leaned on his arm and Alex pretended to inspect the light hanging above you. Julie made eye contact with you and smiled.

“Oh, hey!”

Flynn turned around and watched Julie expectantly. Julie laughed awkwardly and started skipping down the driveway.

“Let’s hustle!” She grabbed Flynn’s arm and started walking up the stairs, waving goodbye.

“We weren’t listening!” Reggie said, earning a pinch on the arm from you and a kick to the ankle from Luke. Julie started swatting the air, trying to play it off like there was a bug, and pushed Flynn up the stairs.

As soon as she was gone, you made your way back into the garage. You sat at the piano bench, mindlessly playing the few chords you knew.

“I wonder why Julie didn’t tell us she could shred on the piano.” Reggie said.

“It probably has something to do with her mom.” You guessed, your fingers gliding across the keys.

“Yeah, that must’ve been hard.” Alex added before climbing up to the loft. “I really feel for her.”

“Yeah, but now she’s got music back in her life. Just like us.” Luke said, reaching over and hitting the note next to your finger.

“Yeah, I’m not sure you can call what we have a life.” Alex said and you snorted. “Hey, I think some of our old clothes are up here.”

He threw down a black trash bag filled with clothes and you sighed in relief. The night you died, you wore a plain pair of jeans, and your favorite old t-shirt of your dad’s. You usually wore one when you played a gig, so that a part of him could be with you in some way and of course; Luke’s jacket.

And as much as you loved your outfit, being in the same clothes for 25 years was not exactly sanitary, even by ghost standards.

“Sweet!” Luke exclaimed, taking off his shirt.

Shit!

You tried as subtly as possible to look away before anyone saw the blush on your cheeks, and you thought you had gotten away with it until Reggie laughed from across the room.

You sent him a glare, but that only made him laugh harder.

Suddenly, the studio doors opened again and Julie’s dad came in. He had a sad look on his face and a camera in his hands. It had ‘Ray Molina’ engraved on the handle so you figured that was his name.

The man walked right through Reggie, making him shudder. “That was weird. But somehow I can tell this man has a kind heart.”

“So, how have you been?” Ray asked, his voice heavy.

“Honestly, not that good.” Reggie said and you rolled your eyes. “See, we ate these hotdogs and-”

“Julie sang for the first time again this morning.” Ray took a picture of the room. “She hasn’t done that in almost a year. You would’ve loved it.”

“Yeah, we heard cause we-.” Reggie wiggled his fingers in front of Ray’s face. “Oh, I get it. He's not talking to us."

"Dude, you are so lucky you play bass." Luke said.

"I think he's talking to Julie's mom." Alex sighed.

Ray started walking towards the piano. "She's such an amazing young woman."

He started running his hands on the keys so you slid off the bench. You knew you definitely shouldn't be listening, this was definitely not something you weren't meant to hear but you couldn't help your curiosity. "Everyday she reminds me more and more of you."

"Called it!" Alex cheered.

Ray shifted the camera between his hands. "I'm taking pictures for the real estate website. I don't really wanna move, but...it's what's best for Julie."

Alex came down from the loft and you all crowded around the piano. Luke stared at Ray with wide eyes. "Move?"

Ray gently played a few notes of a ballad before he spoke again. "There's so many memories out here. Like, Julie sitting next to you and Carlos trying to sing with his missing front teeth."

Luke let out a shaky breath and you realized he was crying. It wasn’t until a tear rolled down your cheek that you realized that you were too. You frantically wiped your eyes, doing your best not to break down.

Ray was exactly what you always pictured your dad used to be like, and his love for Julie was exactly the same kind you knew he would've had for you. Thinking about your dad made you think about your mom, and that made trying to stop crying a whole lot harder.

"Come on guys, not you too." Reggie said.

"It's just...he's talking about moving but the poor guy doesn't wanna move." Luke sniffled.

Ray stood up and took a picture of right where you were all standing. "It's like they grew up out here."

Reggie fanned his face. "Now he's got me too."

Alex scoffed. "Okay, how am I the emotional one?"

"Can we go see my family? See how they're doing?" Reggie asked, his voice shaking a little.

You nodded. “Yeah, listening to this doesn’t feel right.”

Just as you go to leave, Ray laughs. "Remember when the kids were at your sisters and we came out here on our anniversary..."

"Yeah, no! " Luke cringed. "Definitely wrong.”

-

The beach was where you spent a lot of your free time when you were alive.

Usually after a long day when you just needed a place to work on new lyrics in peace. But sometimes after playing all day at the pier, the boys would drag you down to the water and you would all stay there as long as possible. Away from parents and responsibilities.

But just like everything else, it had changed so much.

"A bike shack," Reggie sighed. "Right where my house used to be."

"I'm sorry, Reg." You rested your head on Reggie’s shoulder.

"Why couldn't they at least have turned it into something cool like a pizzeria or something?"

"They tore down the whole neighborhood." Alex said.

"I guess my folks are gone."

Alex kicked his foot into the sand. "Everyone's gone. Twenty-five years, gone. Friends, family, Bobby, everyone."

That was another person you hadn't wanted to let yourself think about. Even though you and Bobby weren't super close, he was still a part of Sunset Curve. He could be a little bit of an asshole sometimes but he was still your friend.

"Bobby, that's right." Reggie said. "Guess that vegetarian lucked out. Wonder what happened to him?"

"He probably just got old like everyone else and moved on." Luke grumbled.

"Dude, how are you so chill about all of this?”

“Yeah, don’t you want to figure out what happened?” You asked.

“Let’s be real for a second.” Luke exhaled, clearly getting worked up. “It’s not like any of us were close to our families. My parents always regretted buying me that guitar. Reggie, your parents were literally a fight away from divorce.” 

Luke ran a hand through his hair as he ranted, talking with his hands the way he always did when he was upset. “Alex, I- Your parents were never cool again after you told them you were gay.”

His eyes landed on you and he seemed to ease up a little. “(Y/n), you practically raised yourself since your mom was gone all the time.”

“Yeah, okay.” You said. “None of us had it great.”

“But at least we had something! What do we have now?” Alex shouted. “And before you say cool teleportation, I’m not cool with that either. It tingles. In weird places.”

Luke sprang to his feet. “I’ll tell you what he had. It’s what we’ve had since the day we came together. Guys, we have us. We’re the only family we’re ever gonna need. You wanna know what else we got?”

“I’m gonna guess death breath?” Reggie said.

“Our music, you dork.” Luke laughed. “People can hear us play again! They can’t see us, whatever, but they can feel us. I wish I had my guitar.”

Suddenly, the air around you made a sharp ‘whoosh’ sound and Luke’s six-string appeared in his hands.

“Whoa.” You said.

“How did you do that?” Reggie asked.

“I-I don’t know. I mean I wished for it and then...” Luke played a few chords and beamed.

Reggie jumped in place with his arms open, trying to wish for random things before he eventually gave up and slumped into the sand.

“I think I know what will cheer you up.” Luke said. He played the opening of ‘This Band Is Back’ and you couldn’t help but smile. Out of all the Sunset Curve songs, this was one of your favorites.

“Come on, Reginald.” Alex said as he started hitting his legs and chest to make a beat.

You offered Reggie your hand and pulled him up as Luke started the countdown. Reggie took it and twirled you around, effectively getting sand in your shoes. You laughed and spun him around before dragging him up to the tables in front of the restaurants as he sang.

The people around you seemed confused by the sudden music, but they danced around anyway. You forgot how much you loved seeing people react to your music. Watching them dance and smile made all your worries float away, even if it was just for now.

And for the first time since the Orpheum,

It really did feel like the band was back.

August 1994

It was just after sunset when you called the Patterson house.

The sound of your mom slamming the front door was still fresh in your mind and before you could stop yourself, your fingers were flying across the buttons. Luke was the only person who knew about your relationship with your mom. 

You didn’t want to worry Cece, or Alex, or anyone else. But hiding things from Luke wasn’t easy, especially with how stubborn he was. So you told him everything, and he told you,

‘Call me next time, okay?’

The line only rang twice before someone picked up. “Hello?” 

It was Emily, Luke’s mom.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep from crying. “Hi, Mrs. Patterson.”

Emily laughed and you could practically hear her roll her eyes fondly. “(Y/n), sweetie, what did I tell you about calling me that?”

Even though you and Luke had been friends most of your lives, you had only met Emily a handful of times. Luke didn’t really like hanging out at his house, especially when he started fighting with them regularly. Still, Emily always treated you like her own kid whenever you were around.

“Sorry, Emily.” You said. “Is Luke around?”

You heard some shuffling as she called out for him and after a few minutes, Luke picked up the phone. “Hey.”

“Hi, are you busy?” 

“No, why?” He asked.

“Well, I made enough cookies to feed a small country and my mom’s gonna be gone for the night so I thought we could hang out.” You rambled. “Maybe finish ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

Luke laughed excitedly. “Yeah, sure! Give me like 20 minutes.”

Luke’s laugh was so infectious that you had to fight through a giggle. “Okay, see you soon.”

As you went to hang up, you hear Emily’s voice again. She was teasing Luke about something but all you caught was the word ‘Girlfriend’, making you turn bright red.

You put the phone back on the hook just as the oven beeped to signal that it was ready to bake the cookies. You put them in the oven and turned your attention to the huge bowl of cake batter in front of you. At this point, there wasn’t anything left in the kitchen you hadn’t baked.

There was no way you would be able to eat all of it, even with Luke’s help. But you needed something to distract yourself to keep your mind from overloading.

True to his word, Luke arrived twenty minutes later, bursting through your front door and screaming the Indiana Jones theme song at the top of his lungs. He skipped his way into the kitchen, immediately sensing something was wrong when you didn’t join him or even acknowledge his presence. 

“(Y/n)?” Luke approached you slowly.

“Hey.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, not looking up from the bowl. “So, you ready to finally finish this movie?”

Luke didn’t say anything as he scanned the kitchen. There were piles of cookies and cooking utensils all over the counter, and you had flour in your hair. You could see the realization flash across his face through your eyelashes.

“Okay, you’re baking everything in the house, which can only mean one of two things,” Luke said, his voice becoming more serious as he jumped up on the counter. “You either watched Sixteen Candles unsupervised again or…”

You stayed quiet as you slowly stirred the batter. It was ready to put in the pan ten minutes ago but you needed something to do to distract yourself.

Luke’s hand gently gripped yours before taking the spoon from you and letting it fall into the bowl. You looked up at him to find him already staring at you with a furrowed brow.

Damn it.

You should’ve known he would see through your thinly veiled excuses and promise of cookies. Luke was more observant than people gave him credit for.

“C’mere,” Luke said, opening his arms. You moved between his legs and buried your head in his chest, covering his shirt in tears, flour, and batter. But he didn’t seem to mind as he rubbed circles into your arm with one hand while the other cradled your head.

“She hates me.” You said through a deep, shuddering breath.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Luke reasoned. “It’s impossible for anyone to hate you.”

One of the things you loved about Luke was his protective streak when it came to his friends, and the way that no matter what, he could only see the best in them.

And as his best friend, you were pretty much perfect in his eyes. Which meant that when you didn't immediately agree, Luke launched into a rant.

"First of all, you're like the smartest person in the world. You manage to get good grades while also working at the diner three days a week which is nuts.

Secondly, your voice is insane! And your lyrics, (Y/n), we wouldn't even have half the Sunset Curve songs without your killer songwriting skills!"

"You done, Lu?" You joked as you pulled away just enough to look up at him, trying not to blush. No matter how hard you tried to play it cool when he complimented you, it always made you melt inside.

"I'm just saying," Luke laughed softly. “You are literally the best person I know, Squeaks.”

You let out a watery laugh at the mention of your childhood nickname. It was one that Luke had given to you in 4th grade after he put a bug on your arm and you had squeaked in fear.

“And just think,” Luke whispered, his voice sounding a little wistful. “One day, we’ll get signed to a label and end up somewhere far away from here.”

“We barely started making our demo.” You said, making Luke scrunch his nose in the way that always made you giggle. "Don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself?"

“Nope.” He smirked. “Okay, I gotta ask, were you planning on baking this or is this a new look you’re going for? ‘Cause I gotta be honest, it’s not your best.” Luke said teasingly as he swiped some batter from your cheek.

“Oh, really?” You asked, dipping your finger in the bowl and smearing the batter across Luke’s face, making him gasp. Then you took a slight step back and hummed thoughtfully. “Definitely looks better on me.”

“You know what?” Luke scoffed, trying to hold back a smile and before you could blink, he reached into the bowl and flung the spoon at you, splattering your shirt. “I think you’re right.”

“Jerk!” You laughed, wiping off your shirt as Luke tried to lick the batter off his chin but he only managed to make an ever bigger mess.

“Did I get it?” He asked, making you giggle.

“Not quite.” You reached forward and carefully wiped it off, desperately trying to focus on anything other than how close your faces were. But it was impossible when you could feel Luke’s breath on the tip of your nose. “There.”

Luke’s face was unreadable as he looked down at you. The playfulness had evaporated in the air and was replaced with something else that you couldn’t really read either. Just when you thought the moment would last forever, the timer for the second batch of cookies rang through the kitchen, and you practically bolted to the oven.

You pulled them out and put them on a plate. “So, you know that we have to watch Sixteen Candles now, right?”

Luke groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Even though he would never admit it, you knew he secretly loved romance movies. “Fine, but Raiders of the Lost Ark after?”

“Deal.”

As Luke went into the living room to start the movie, you sighed to yourself. Maybe you would never have a normal relationship with your mom.

But you had your band, your friends, and even if it wasn’t exactly in the way you wanted; 

You had Luke.

-

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @nxacomposts @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13

Let me know if you wanted to be added!

[laviefantasie]

140160 Hours

Pairings: Alive!Luke Patterson x Alive!Reader

Summary: What if ever since you were born in your wrist you had tattoed the counted time till' you met your soul mate? 

| MASTERLIST |

According to the internet, a soulmate is a person with whom one has a feeling of deep or natural affinity. This may involve similarity, love, romance, platonic relationships, comfort, intimacy, sexuality, sexual activity, spirituality, compatibility and trust.

That is why the numbers on your wrist that counted down the time until you met your soulmate were important. Everybody was born with them.

And you weren’t the exception. As soon as you were born the numbers 140160 hrs had been engraved in your right wrist.

The numbers changing as you grew up.

You didn’t believe much on the soulmate deal. How could something so so random as a number in your wrist decide who you spent the rest of your life with?

Your mom and dad certainly were a good example of why it wouldn’t work. Soulmates or not, life can still throw its punches at you and your parents weren’t able to fight through them together.

When your wrist had the numbers 61320 hrs engraved on it your parents filed their divorce, your mom taking your full custody.

That definitely made you not look forward to finding your soulmate, especially after you saw how it had affected your parents.

Because even when their decision had been the right one —the constant fighting you had grown around of not being your best memories— it had made them lose a part of themselves.

Their souls yearning for the other’s warmth to feel —to be— complete.

That was the problem with meeting your soulmate, once you did the before didn’t exist anymore.

As soon as you met them, that part of you that had been longing for them, waiting for them, wakes up not allowing you to imaging life without the other.

You didn’t want that.

You were fine with your life as it was, concentrating on what you were truly passionate about: your music.

Who needed a soulmate?

You stared at both of your best friends in front of you in disbelief. Since you had met your next-door neighbor, Julie Molina, when you were nine you both had become instant friends.

Both of you had a love for music and Julie’s mom, Rose, made sure to teach you both everything she knew about it.

That is why your friendship with Julie had grown so much, both of you soon joined to the hip.

Your friendship with Carrie, on the other hand, was due to your mom being her dad’s producer. You had basically known the strawberry blonde your whole life.

Yet, somehow, you had never noticed the way the number on either of their wrists was changing as the day you had decided on introducing each other got closer.

And that’s why right now you found yourself staring with wide eyes at both your best friends, who stared at the 0 engraved on their wrists in awe.

“I... I was not expecting this” you whisper.

Your words are enough to make Carrie snap out of her daze and smile at Julie, with a special glint in her brown eyes.

“I-I am Carrie” she smiles sweetly at the hispanic.

Julie blushes under the other girl’s stare, “I’m J-Julie”

You roll your eyes before excusing yourself, going to sit on the stool on the cafeteria’s counter deciding they should have this time to properly meet each other.

At the end of the day, you only met your soulmate once.

You stare at them across the room, seeing how their smiles are a little bigger and their eyes a little brighter as they stare at one another.

How did that happen? Was it the sole fact that they knew they were in front of their soulmate what caused that effect?

What made meeting your soulmate such a life changing event? Was it because of the way the people talk about it? What made meeting your soulmate so different from meeting someone else other than the fact that you knew they were —somehow— destined to be with you?

Your e/c eyes move to your right wrist, the numbers 35040 hrs engraved on it in a black bold handwriting.

Was it weird that you dreaded the moment you met him or her? Was it weird that you wanted to date other people and decide by yourself who you wanted to be with?

You were just twelve years old, you couldn’t imagine yourself meeting someone and just knowing you wanted to be by that person’s side for your whole life.

That was just nonsense.

You found yourself running to the music room with Flynn and Carrie by your sides, Julie just having sent an SOS text to meet her there.

That had gotten the three best friends out of their seats in their Algebra class, ignoring your teacher’s protests, and running to the class you all liked to fool around so much in.

You were expecting to find the brunette crying her heart out or for her to be anxiously pacing around the room, you were definitely not expecting to see her jumping in excitement.

“I have a band!”

Her words made the three of you go from being confused to jumping in excitement with her, knowing the girl had been having a hard time with music since her mother died.

All of you had it hard, neither knowing how to live in a world without the mentoring and warmth of Rose Molina, but you all had been strong to be Julie’s rock. God knows how hard it had to be for her.

So they were definitely trill to hear that the girl they loved so much was finally happy again.

Carrie soon pulling her girlfriend in for a sweet kiss, before all of them soon tackle the Molina in a group hug.

Julie Molina had been fifteen when she had lost her mom. She had been fifteen the last time she had sung. It was after a year that Y/N had finally helped the brunette find her way to music again after finding a song her mother wrote for her when finally cleaning the studio —as neither of the Molina’s felt they could do it— so Mr. Molina could take pictures for the state agent.

Needless to say, once Julie heard about the song she couldn’t stay away from music anymore.

She sang.

After that, the girl had slowly started to come back to them. Now? Now she seemed to be back completely as she explained to them how is it she now had a band.

Apparently, you weren’t the only reason why she had decided to sing again. She had met a boy named Luke in the diner you guys love.

Said boy had been writing a song when —without meaning to— Julie had seen what he was writing and had helped him out on a verse he was working on.

She hadn’t meant to do it, it had just happened.

But that had made Luke follow her around, annoying her until she admitted she used to do music. After that, Reggie and Alex —the other boys of the band and apparently Luke’s best friends— had join Luke in trying to remind her what she loved about music.

The passion in the way they talked about music had awakened Julie’s curiosity for it, and when Y/N told her about the song she couldn’t resist.

She had been meeting with Luke to write songs behind their backs, Carrie scoffing in jealousy at that, before the boys had asked her to join Sunset Curve.

“We’re gonna change the band’s name though” admits the latina “A lot of things have changed for them, one of their bandmates left with Luke’s songs before they met me and that messed up with their sound”

“What about Julie and her Ghosts? Can’t believe you kept these guys a secret”

Julie noticing the jealous tone in her girlfriend’s voice, smiles before holding the strawberry blonde’s hand. Carrie soon smiling happily.

“I’m sorry I kept them from you” she apologizes “I’ve just been wanting to see if it’d work first, didn’t want to get all of your hopes up for nothing”

Flynn sighs before smiling towards her best friend, “It’s okay, Jules. When can we meet them then?”

“Today is the day you meet the ghosts” she smiles excitedly “Afterschool at the studio, that okay?”

You share a look with Carrie and Flynn before nodding with a smile.

“Let’s meet Julie and her Phantoms”

Unknowingly, to you your right wrist now had the numbers 6 hrs 37 mins on it, the exact amount of time before you’d find yourself walking through the white doors of Julie’s studio.

You had decided to stop looking at your wrist as soon as you had turned sixteen, making sure to cover it with as many bracelets as you could to avoid looking at it by mistake.

You didn’t want a soulmate.

Carrie, Flynn and Y/N were riding their bikes to Julie’s house while talking about how they thought the guys looked.

You all had agreed to meet to go to Julie’s house at 4 o’clock after going to your own homes to change clothes and were happily making your way to the place you had all once loved.

The three of you were excited to be on the studio again, you had even brought with you your songbook. You were excited to show Julie the songs you had written.

It had been so long since she had read your songs. Hopefully, you’d both be writing songs together again.

“I’m pretty sure they’re hot”

Flynn’s comment makes you and Carrie laugh out loud before coming to a stop in front of the Molina’s home. The three of you throwing your bikes on their yard.

“I’m serious! I’m thinking we’re about to see some well done boys in there, we should probably stop to check we’re presentable enough”

“Flynn, we’re already late to Julie’s band rehearsal” Carrie points out “No time to stop”

You feel your wrist tingle weirdly as you position yourself in front of your best friends while walking backwards to the studio.

Not knowing your wrist was tingling because the numbers on it were going down.

20, 19, 18, 17, 16...

“And if I may add, I believe we’re already looking quite hot” You smirk teasingly at them “As a matter of fact”

You’re almost at the studio, as the sound of an unknown melody becomes louder with every step you give.

15, 14, 13, 12, 11...

“I think they’re not ready for us” You state sassily “And they’re teenagers, how hot can they be?”

Flynn and Carrie stop, so you do too. The one with braids widening her eyes at the sight behind you.

“I think very very hot”

10, 9, 8, 7...

Seeing Carrie nod her head in agreement, you turn around to see what they mean. You e/c eyes finding Julie’s figure as she sings her heart out, oblivious to the three new arrivals.

Your heart start thumping loudly in your chest as your wrist starts tingling even more, which weirds you out but you choose to ignore it. Not noticing the way the guitarists looks weirded out too as he tries to keep his focus on the song they’re playing.

Your eyes soon move towards the blond drummer before going to the dark-haired bass player.

6, 5, 4, 3...

You admire them for a while before moving your eyes to the lead guitarist, your breath coming out quicker against your control.

Black vans, black ripped jeans with chains on them, black Rolling Stone’s sleeveless t-shirt, different colored bracelets on his wrists and many rings on his hand.

2...

Your eyes go from well built arms to shaggy brown untamed hair. The guitarist’s head turning as he feels his chest tighten with an unknown feeling.

1...

Luke shakes his head before trying to focus on the song once again, turning around to go back to his microphone stand his eyes find the three new people standing by the studio’s doors.

His bright green eyes soon meeting enchanting e/c eyes.

0.

Luke’s hand stops playing abruptly, the rest of the band member stopping in confusion as the sound of the guitar fades.

Though Julie’s confused look soon becomes an excited one as she sees all of you by the doors.

“Girls!”

She runs excitedly towards you three, grabbing your hands not noticing the way your eyes don’t leave the ones of the green-eyed boy.

The tingling on both of your wrists gone.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here” she turns to the boys with a smile “Guys, these intruders are the bestest of friends in the whole world”

She points to all of you, “That is Carrie, my better half, that is Flynn, and this one over here is Y/N”

She then turns to the three girls, Carrie being the first to notice your wide eyes, “Girls, this Alex, Reggie, and Luke. Julie and the Phantoms, name credits go to you, Y/N/N”

“Y/N/N, you okay?”

Carrie’s question has your best friends looking towards you in worry, Alex and Reggie soon asking the same thing to a frozen Luke.

Though, it is Julie the one that notices the way your left hand grips your right wrist tightly. Getting close enough to you to pull your hand away and move your many bracelets.

A gasp escapes her as she graces at the black bold 0 on it.

Her brown eyes look towards your surprised ones as you still stare at Luke, not knowing exactly what is it you feel at that moment.

Reggie, being filled with curiosity, copies Julie’s actions with Luke. An awestruck look on his face as soon as he sees the 0 etched on his skin.

That seems to snap the guitarist from his shock, his green eyes moving towards his wrist in wonder.

As soon as you find yourself free from his gaze, you move your hand away from Julie and run out of the studio.

“Y/N!”

You ignore Julie’s screams for you and hop on your bike before pedaling to your house. Your heart beating loudly in your chest as you feel... empty.

Your eyes hadn’t become brighter and your smile hadn’t grown.

You hadn’t felt all the things they had ever told you you’d feel. All you had felt was fear. Fear of having a soulmate, fear of not knowing how to talk to said soulmate, fear of not being able to connect with said person.

A few days had passed since you had run out of Julie’s band rehearsal and you hadn’t bother to go see Julie when the band was there.

Your best friends trying to make you talk to Luke yet still supportive when you stated you weren’t ready. You wanted to believe it was because they understood but something told you it was because said boy probably didn’t want to see you just yet too.

That’s why you weren’t worried when you agreed to study with Julie that day, both of you finishing your assignments in record time before proceeding to look through your songs.

“These are amazing, Y/N/N” she smiles sweetly after finishing reading the song you never got to finish “Have you shown me this one before though? I feel like I’ve already read it”

You shake your head confused, you hadn’t shown that song to anyone. You had written it a long time ago when you had felt incredibly alone and had, for the first time, wished for you soulmate.

You hadn’t been able to finish it and soon you had forgotten it existed. Until a few days ago, meeting your —apparent— soulmate had made you look for the song.

You wanted to finish it but couldn’t for some reason.

“Never, Jules” she looks at you confused “Anyways, I had an idea for a piano intro for the first verse that I wanted to run by you first”

“Sure, just let me go upstairs to bring my stuff. And probably some snacks”

You nod your head before watching her leave. You sigh before gazing at the unfinished lyrics in your songbook annoyed.

Since when was finishing a song such a hard task?

With a scoff, you stand up from the couch and move to the piano with your songbook in hand. Soon accommodating yourself to start playing the song, hoping that would help you snap out of whatever writer’s block you had and finish it.

Softly, the chords you had in mind are played by you before your voice sings the first verse.

“Sometimes I think I'm falling down

I wanna cry, I'm callin' out

For one more try to feel alive”

Without your knowledge, a certain green-eyed boy stopped outside of the studio as soon as he heard you.

“And when I feel lost and alone

I know that I can make it home”

You look at the lyrics with a narrowed gaze before trying out the first words that come to mind when the memory of a pair of green eyes come to mind.

“Fight through the dark

And... find the spark”

The boy sneaks a glance at you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he remembers the unfinished song in his black songbook.

The song he had started writing after a fight with her mom concerning the band. He had felt so sad that he had yearn the comfort of someone who understood his pain without knowing it.

You stop playing then let out a frustrated groan as you come out with nothing to add before making your way to your —incomplete— chorus.

“Life is a risk but I will take it

Close my eyes and jump”

Your eyes snap to the owner of the unknown voice, finding the green eyes you had been dreading —yet longing— to see.

You see him struggling for what to come next, finding you actually know what would go right after what he had just sung.

“Together I think that we can make it”

He looks at you in surprise before smiling and singing the end of what would be your song’s pre-chorus.

“Come on, let's run”

Neither of you move, both of you staring deeply into each other’s eyes. Julie, who had just arrived with snacks, quietly leaves you both knowing you were just about to realize why you were soulmates.

Luke coughs as a blush makes its way to his face before moving towards his songbook —the reason he had come to the studio in the first place— on his guitar’s amp.

You watch him quietly, him soon making his way towards you hesitating before taking a sit besides you on the piano.

You ignore the loud thumping of your heart as you feel your knees touch his.

His green eyes find your e/c ones before he opens his songbook, holding it out to you once he finds the song he wants to show you.

Bright

In times that I doubted myself

I felt likе I needed some help

Stuck in my hеad with nothing left

I feel something around me now

So unclear...

Life is a risk but I will take it

Close my eyes and jump

Come on, let's run

And rise through the night

Bright forever

And rise through the night

Bright forever

You felt your breath catch in your throat as you finally understand what’s written in his awful handwriting. The lyrics and melody matching your song perfectly.

You, wordlessly, push your songbook towards him, Luke soon reading it in wonder.

“How do you feel about Julie and the Phantoms getting a new song?”

It was safe to say that it was that night that you finally understood why all the fuzz going around about soulmates.

As Luke and you worked Bright together your eyes shined brighter and your smile never disappeared from your face. You had never felt so complete in your whole life.

And staring at the boyish grin on the brunette’s face as you finished singing the newly finish soon-to-be hit of the band, you couldn’t help but think that maybe —just maybe— having a soulmate wasn’t so bad.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Surprise – Howlin’ For You – One Shot

Description: Bucky forgets it’s his birthday. But his wife and kids aren’t going to let that slide. 

Pairing: AU - Biker!Bucky x Fem/Reader

Howlin’ For You - Masterlist

Read the series or you will not know what the fuck is happening.

Bucky was so tired that a part of him was worried about getting home on a motorcycle without falling asleep. 

It was like the universe was torturing him with the day that he had. It seemed as if every customer he had to deal with at the shop today was a privileged asshole. All of them either pretended like they knew more about auto mechanics than him or yelled at him for the very reasonable pricing he gave them on their vehicles.

Customer service had always been the thing Bucky hated most about running his own shop. He tried to avoid dealing with customers at all cost. Steve was much more patient than he was – most of the crew was. 

But the whole reason they’d created the shop in the first place was to offer people realistic prices and to not rip off naive and unassuming customers.

Now Bucky was mentally and emotionally exhausted.

He’d sent a text to Y/N earlier, telling her how he’d become more and more irritated from work as the day went on.

She sent her support and promised she’d try to cheer him up when he got home.

Bucky immediately brought the conversation to more risqué suggestions, but Y/N didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

He also knew that a few minutes with his kids and he’d cheer up. Amelia would want to cuddle with him or the twins would show him their new model cars they built with so much enthusiasm that he wouldn’t be able to help but feel better.

When Bucky walked through the door, his shoulders immediately relaxed. He gave most of the credit to Y/N for making their house an oasis of comfort and warmth.

But then he noticed how oddly quiet the house was, which was a rarity with a 5-year-old daughter and 9-year-old, rambunctious twins.

“Doll?” He called out.

Suddenly Amelia came running to him, slamming into his legs with her tiny body.

“There’s my girl,” Bucky chuckled as he lifted her up to hold her.

She was already growing up so fast that he knew carrying her around could end at any moment – more from her not wanting him to than her becoming too big.

“Where is your pretty mama and your crazy brothers, huh?” He asked her after giving her cheek a kiss.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulders.

“They told me to come get you,” she informed him.

“Oh, yeah? What for?”

Amelia giggled. “It’s a secret,” she whispered.

“A secret? Sounds like trouble.” But now Bucky was getting a little suspicious. “Is this hide and seek? Are you here to help me find them?”

Amelia giggled again and shook her head. “No, silly. Th-They told me to say…ummm…” She was now have trouble battling the short-term memory that came with being 5 years old.

“Told you to say what, babydoll?” He encouraged her softly.

She smiled, not seeming to care that she wasn’t doing a good job of giving him the message. “The backyard,” she laughed.

“I’m supposed to go to the backyard,” Bucky confirmed with a slow nod.

Then he kissed her head. “Alright. Let’s go to the backyard.”

Bucky assumed the twins had Y/N hostage, showing her everything about the new dirt bike he’d brought home for them just a few days ago. While Y/N didn’t know nor care much about the mechanics, like her sons and daughter, she humored them by nodding and oohing and aahing at the right parts.

As soon as they were close to the door that led out to the patio and backyard, Bucky was surprised he couldn’t hear the twins talking Y/N’s ear off. Also the lights were off, making it hard to see anything through the windows of the house.

When Bucky pulled the door open, he was met with the backyard lights turning on and a crowd screaming, “Surprise!”

On instinct alone, he turned his body a bit so Amelia was shielded. But he quickly recovered, steadying his breathing and realizing neither he nor his daughter were in any immediate danger.

The whole week of work, specifically today, had been so hectic and stressful that Bucky kept forgetting his birthday was just around the corner.

Now he was facing what looked to be every person he’d ever met in his life.

All of the Howlies were laughing and cheering at his arrival. Someone had already started up the music again. People were talking amongst themselves now that the surprise had been delivered.

Grayson and Owen came running out of the crowd, Y/N slowly walking behind them with a warm smile.

“Were you surprised, dad?” The twins both asked excitedly.

“Sure was,” he laughed as he mess up both of their hair.

“Did you spoil the surprise, Amelia?” Grayson asked his little sister, who was still in her dads arms. His eyes were filled with suspicion.

She glared and shook her head before nuzzling closer to her father.

“No, she didn’t ruin anything. She could be a spy,” Bucky defended.

Now Y/N had made her way to them.

“You,” he playfully glared at his wife. “Come here.” She laughed and stepped closer, earning a kiss from him. “You plan all this for me, troublemaker?”

She barely pulled away from his lips, “Maybe.”

“Thank you, doll. You didn’t have to do this.”

Y/N shrugged. “I was just a little worried after you told me how bad your day was going. I thought maybe this would be all be too much.”

“Of course not,” he assured her.

He moved her lips to his ear. “I’m sorry about the lights and screaming, I tried to tell them not to do it. But everyone was really committed already,” Y/N muttered to him so no one else could hear, proving that she caught how he’d reacted to the surprise.

He kissed her again. “It’s fine, Y/N.” 

Even after all these years, Bucky was still amazed at how well they could read each other.

Then Y/N grabbed Amelia from his arms. “Now, I’ll take this one, because you got a lot of people who want to wish you a happy birthday.”

As soon as Y/N stepped away and took the kids with her, Bucky was bombarded with people giving him hugs and saying hi.

All of the Howlies were there, along with their partners and kids. He spotted his mom and sister talking to Y/N’s family. Some of Y/N’s friends who had become Bucky’s friends were there too. It was like their usual Howlie gatherings – but magnified and with all the attention on Bucky.

He could’ve gone without the attention, but he enjoyed having all the important people in his life all in one place.

An hour later, he found Steve running the grill.

“Alright, punk, I know you were responsible for this too,” Bucky growled.

They’d just seen each other at the garage a few hours ago.

“I may have helped a bit,” Steve confessed through a mischievous smile.

“How’d you all keep it a secret? Especially, Sam – that idiot can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“I fucking heard that!” Sam shouted from over Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky laughed and gave Sam an unapologetic shrug.

“That wife of yours did most of the work. I felt like I was back in the military with the way she had everything organized and dished out jobs to all of us.”

Bucky laughed at that, picturing Y/N giving out orders to his biker gang.

Hours later, Y/N had put the kids to bed and the adults really got down to celebrating. 

She was starting to get worried with the amount of shots and drinks people were thrusting onto Bucky. The man could hold his alcohol, but he was still just a human.

“I’m going to end up carrying that man to bed, aren’t I?” Y/N asked Sam and Nat as they sat around a fire.

The three of them drew their attention to Thor and Clint who were shoving another shot onto Bucky.

“Make him find his own way to the couch,” Sam chuckled.

“This is why you’d make a bad boyfriend,” Nat smirked.

“What?” Sam yelled. “I’m a great boyfriend!”

“Yeah?” Nat asked. “Where’s your girlfriend now? Oh, yeah, you don’t have one…”

Lo and behold, Y/N did have to practically drag her drunk husband to their bedroom.

Some of the Howlies who were more sober offered to stay back and help clean up. Even when Y/N turned them down, they ignored her and started getting to work. She wouldn’t be surprised if she came downstairs tomorrow morning to find her house cleaner than it was before the party.

Bucky’s arm was around Y/N’s shoulder as she navigated him through their home.

“You’re the best wife anyone in the world could ever have,” Bucky slurred to her.

Y/N laughed, “I am?”

“Of course.”

“OK. Well, your wife needs some help on your end to get you up these stairs.”

And to his credit, he made it up them without requiring much of Y/N’s help.

When they got to his bedroom, he flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Y/N started unlacing his foots and taking off his jeans.

“Shirt to bed or no shirt?” She asked him.

“No shirt!”

She smiled at him. “Shorts or sleeping in just your briefs?”

“Briefs!”

Y/N nodded.

“Well, I was planning on ending the night with more fun. But I don’t think you’re exactly in the right state for that…” She teased him.

Bucky chuckled. “Probably for the best.”

He was currently fighting the spins. So, as much as he wanted to have sex with his beautiful and sexy wife, it probably wouldn’t end well for him.

Y/N went to take off her makeup, wash her face, and brush her teeth.

She found one of Bucky’s old t-shirts and threw it on, forgoing any type of short or pants.

“Come here, doll.” Bucky demanded, sounding far more sober than he should. 

“Are you gonna behave?” Y/N asked him as she pointed a finger at him.

“Yes, ma’am. I just want cuddles.” Then he smiled like a goof. “It’s my birthday, so I get what I want.”

Y/N chuckled and shook her head at him, but did as he requested and climbed into bed with him. Bucky instantly pulled her on top of his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

“Thank you for tonight,” he sighed and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m glad you had fun.”

“I love you, Y/N.” His voice proving that he was just moments away from passing out.

“Love you too, Buck.”

And barely 30 seconds later, Y/N’s ears were filled with Bucky’s drunken snores.

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

Thank you to the anon who sent this in and inspired me.  Let me know what you guys think :)  

[waitimcomingtoo]

Wait For Me

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you tell Cap the story of all the times you and Peter waited for each other. Takes place during Engame

Listen to Wait For Me from Hadestown for the inspiration behind this story

Masterlist

6 years ago

“Whats the B for?” You asked as you traced your fingers over the shiny brass clasp of Peters suitcase. It was your first time hearing of his superhero abilities, and he had pulled out his suit to confirm his identity. You had always known there was something special about Peter, something that set him apart. Him being a superhero came as no surprise to you, so you were more distracted by the monogrammed suitcase where he kept his suit.

“Benjamin. Like my uncle.” He said as he watched your face for any signs of judgement. There was the slightest whisper of a smile on your lips as you rubbed your thumb over the engraving.

“I remember him.” You nodded and looked up at Peter, squinting your eyes to get a good look at him. “Benjamin. I like that for you. It’s fitting.”

“Is it? I always thought Benjamin was an old mans name.” He laughed shyly as he scratched behind his ear.

“No. It’s cute.” You told him and he flushed. “You look like a Peter Benjamin, you know? Some people just look like their names.”

Peters mouth opened and shut a few times and he tried to think of a response. He wasn’t used to talking to you everyday, much less used to how pretty you’d gotten. 10 years apart and suddenly you were hanging out in his bedroom everyday, catching up on the part a of each other’s lives that you had missed. Your delicate features, now more defined with age but still soft, made it hard for Peter to think around you. He thought he’d never see you again after you left but here you were, folded up in his bed and running you fingers over the material of his Spiderman suit.

“I’d say the same for you, but you never told me your middle name.” He said finally, thinking back in his memory for any indication of what it was. “It begins with an E right?”

You smiled softly at him, appreciating his keen memory.

“Eurydice.” You told him and he tilted his head.

“What?” He asked, not realizing that was the name.

“It’s Eurydice.” You repeated. “It’s from greek mythology. It was my mother’s favorite story growing up.”

“What’s the story?” Peter set the suitcase on the ground and scored closer to you to give you his full attention.

“You really wanna know?” You tested him, still able to tell when he was lying.

“With all my heart.” He said as he crossed his heart with his fingers. You rolled your eyes at him, not having seen that movement since you were litter.

“Okay. There are a few different versions, but this one is my favorite.” You began. “A long time ago, there was a poor woman called Eurydice and she was married to a musician named Orpheus. Eurydice knew they were gonna starve if they didn’t make some money and buy food, but all Orpheus wanted to do was make music. She ended up selling her soul to Hades-“

“Wait, you were named after a devil worshipper?” Peter cut you off with a laugh.

“No.” You shoved him playfully. “Hades is the god of the Underworld. He’s not the devil.“

“Okay. Go on.” He urged you, leaning his chin on his hands, unintentionally squishing his cheeks.

“So Eurydice sells her soul and gets sent to the Underworld. When Orpheus finds out, he goes on this long, dangerous journey to the Underworld to find her. He gets there and plays his music for Hades, the song he’s been working on instead of getting food. Hades was so moved by his music that made a deal with him: if he can walk out of the Underworld with Eurydice following behind him, they can both go free.” You went on, smiling at Peters squished face.

“Sounds easy enough.” He shrugged.

“It wasn’t.” You held up a finger. “There was a catch. Orpheus was never allowed to look back and make sure Eurydice was still behind him. He just had to trust that she was. He wasn’t allowed to look at her until they were both out.”

“So what happened?” Peter leaned forward, eager to hear the rest.

“They walk the long, scary way back to earth, guided only by a lantern. Orpheus goes the whole way and never looks at her. But right as he’s about to make it out-“ ,You paused for effect and Peter whined in anticipation, “-he caves. He looks at her and she’s sent straight back.”

“He couldn’t do it? He couldn’t take that last step?” Peter exclaimed, frustrated with the ending.

“He couldn’t wait to see his wife.” You sided with Orpheus to defend him.

“But he was so close!” Peter whined, getting worked up over a fictional story.

“I know. That’s what makes the story as beautifully tragic as it is.” You told him.

“Orpheus was an idiot. You’re lucky she named you after Eurydice instead.” Peter grumbled and you laughed easily.

“He wasn’t an idiot. He could see the world for how it could be, in spite of the way that is was. He just couldn’t wait to see his wife.” You said softly, still taking Orpheus’s defense.

“I bet I could do it. I could’ve gotten us both out.” Peter said definitively after a beat of silence.

“Oh, yeah? You think you could be patient and trust your girl?” You challenged him.

“If I truly loved her, yes. I’d wait forever if I had too.” Peter said confidently. “Wouldn’t you?”

You thought about it for a moment, not blind to the irony of his question. You looked Peter deep in his warm brown eyes, the eyes of your best friend since you were little, and nodded.

“Yeah. I think I would.” You said softly.

1 month ago

“What about you? You haven’t move on?” A member of Cap’s support group sounded from beside you, tearing you away from the memory. You blinked as you came back to reality and saw the faces of the rest of the members looking at you expectantly, including Cap.

“Sorry?” You asked, not having heard the question when you were lost in your daydream.

“You mentioned in the first meeting that you lost your boyfriend in the Blip.” The member, a man who lost his wife and daughter, repeated. “Have you moved on from him yet?”

“No.” You said, sitting up and fixing your shirt. “No, I haven’t.”

“Why is that after five years of him being gone? You’re the only one in the group who hasn’t moved on.” He asked. He wasn’t being reproachful, just curious. You and Cap were the leaders of the group and watched each week as the members slowly got their lives back to normal after losing their significant other in the Blip. It hadn’t even occurred to you that you were the only one who hadn’t moved on.

“Because I’ve already met the love of my life.” You said confidently. “I know it’s been 5 years. But I have already met the man I’m supposed to be with. Now I just have to wait for him to come come. He waited for me, and now I’m waiting for him.”

“He might not come for a long time, if he ever does.” A woman in the group spoke up. She wasn’t trying to be harsh, just realistic. You gave her a tight smile and nodded.

“I know.” You said. “But that doesn’t matter to me. I’ll wait forever if I have too.”

The meeting ended shortly after a few more members told their stories. It was nearing the anniversary of the Blip, and everyone was on edge. You were quiet as you and Cap stacked the chairs up, obviously to his stare.

“What did you mean back there when you said he waited for you?” Steve asked gently as he pushed a row of chairs against the wall. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly aware of how long it had gotten, and leaned against the row.

“It’s kinda a long story.” You told him. He took two chairs off the stack and set them down, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“I have time.” He remarked as he took a seat. You laughed lightly as his action and sat down, picking nervously at your nail polish.

“I met Peter when we were 3, and we were best friends almost instantly.” You began. “We learned how to ride bikes together, started school together, basically made all our foundational memories together.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded, urging you to go on.

“My dad did a lot of business in California when I was little and when he got promoted, he decided to move there. My parents didn’t tell me about the move until the day we were leaving. I was crying my eyes out in the taxi when we passed Peter’s apartment building.” You said, looking up at Steve to see his reaction. He was looking at you intently, having never heard you tell the story before. “I pressed my hands against the window of the taxi and stared at his building, totally heartbroken, until an idea came to me. Mind you, I was 7 at the time and had a love of action movies.”

“You didn’t.” He smiled coyly, knowing what was coming.

“I did.” You chuckled. “I jumped out of the moving car and just booked it. I didn’t stop running until I got to his door.”

15 years ago

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Peter asked as he opened his door to you. You had done your secret knock so he knew it was you.

“I have to go, Peter. I’m moving. My daddy got a new job.” You panted, out of breath from running. Peters eyes widened, hearing the world possible news of his short life.

“Moving? Where?” He asked, suddenly aware of your red eyes and running nose, all signs that you had been crying.

“California.” You told him.

“Like with the movie stars?” He asked, childlike excitement replacing the pain.

“Yeah. That’s what my daddy said.” You nodded, remembering what your dad had told you to keep you from crying. You had to leave your best friend, but you’d be with the movie stars.

“When are you leaving?” Peter asked, picking at the paint on his door.

“Today.” You finally caught your breath. “We’re going to the airport right now.”

“But…but I won’t get to see you if you’re in California.” Peter mumbled, starting to get emotional.

“I know. I don’t want to go, Peter.” You shook your head, beginning to cry again.

“Then don’t go.” Peter protested. “You can stay here with me. Aunt May and Uncle Ben won’t mind.“

“Okay. Okay, and then we can stay together.” You agreed, liking his plan.

“Y/n?” Are you up here?” You suddenly heard your mothers voice and your eyes widened, as well as Peters.

“Get inside.” Peter pulled you in his apartment and slammed the door behind you, reaching up on his tippy toes to lock the door. You both panted from the quick move, the sound of the phone ringing get drowned out by your heavy breathing.

“I don’t want to leave you, Peter. You’re my best friend.” You cried, bunching the end of your dress in your fists.

“You’re my best friend too.” Peter hiccuped as he cried. You wiped your cheek on the back of your hand and used the bottom of your dress to wipe his face too. He smiled at you, giving you that warm feeling he always did.

“Please don’t fall in love with anybody else.” You blurted. “Wait for me to come back.”

“What?” Peter hiccuped again.

“I’m gonna grow up and I’m gonna make my own money and I’m gonna find my way back to you. Or, or I’ll run away and get on an airplane.” You plotted as Peter nodded along. “I’m gonna come back for you, Peter. I will, I promise I will. You just need to wait until I get back so we can get married.”

“Peter? Is Y/n here?” Mays voice called from the kitchen, making you both jump. You hugged each other and backed away as May came into the room.

“Go away!” Peter screamed, fully in hysterics now.

“Y/n, sweetie, your mom is on the phone. She said you ran away from the taxi.” May said gently as she bent down to talk to you. She noticed your scrapped knee, bleeding now, but you didn’t even seem to notice.

“I’m not going. I’m not leaving Peter.” You stated, clinging to him tighter.

“What’s going on here?” Ben asked when he heard the noise. He saw his recently orphaned nephew clutching his best friend and immediately understood.

“I can’t go to California. I won’t! I won’t leave Peter.” You cried, gripping the back of Peters overalls for supports.

“Aw, honey.” May sighed in sympathy as she out a hand over her heart at the sight of the terrified children. “It’s okay. You and Peter can write each other letters and video chat. You’ll still be able to see each other.”

“No! She has to move in with us.” Peter shot down Mays idea. Her heart broke for her nephew, already having witnessed him lose so much. The flowers from his parents were still on the table. She couldn’t bear to see him lose his best friend too.

“She can’t Peter. She has to be with her own mommy and daddy.” May tried to reason with him.

“Why? I’m not with mine.” Peter protested, making May tear up. Before she could respond, your mother knocked on the door.

“May? Ben? Is Y/n with you?” Your mother asked through the door. You and Peter began to tremble as you clung to each other.

“No!” You screamed, cowering into the crook of Peters neck.

“Ben, can you settle them down?” May asked as she went to open the door. You and Peter tried to run but Ben caught you.

“Now listen you two, if you really love each other and I know you do, you’ll find your way back.” Ben said prophetically, making you and Peter release your grip a little. “I met your Aunt May once when I was 7, and again when I was 17. I believe in you two. I believe you’ll be reunited one day. But for right now, Y/n has to say goodbye.”

You slowly let go of Peter and turned to face him, tears streaming down your young face.

“Goodbye, Peter.” You mumbled, dry heaving from how upset you were. Your mother and May exchanged glances, not being able to watch their children say goodbye.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” Peter whimpered, wrapping his arms around you and giving you the tightest hug he could.

“Wait for me?” You whispered in his ear.

“I will.” He whispered back.

“Promise?” You asked as you pulled away.

“Promise.” Peter said as he crossed his heart. You did the same before your mother took your hand. You cried as she dragged you out of the apartment, looking back and reaching for Peter the entire way. You broke free from her for a moment and ran to Peter, kissing him on the lips like you’d seen the movies stars do. His eyes were wide open the entire time, but he liked it. Your mother scooped you up, said goodbye to May and Ben, and left the apartment. May and Ben stared at Peter as he touched his lips, still feeling your kiss. He sniffled, trying not to cry again as he watched his best friend leave him for the next ten years.

1 month ago.

“So, yeah. That was the first time he and I were separated. I don’t know which time was worse. They both killed me, just with different weapons. At least when we were 7, I was able to say goodbye.” You shrugged it off as you finished telling Steve your story. He stared at you in awe as you kept your composure. He had listened to a hundred songs stories about losing a loved one, but none of them had moved him like that did.

“How did you guys reconnect? Did you actually run away?” Steve asked, fully invested in the story now. You chuckled softly as his keen memory.

“No. I tried to but I never got very far.” You told him. “I ended up moving back to New York for college. My friend and I rented an apartment instead of living on campus.”

6 years ago.

“Shoot. I’ll meet you up there. I forgot a bag in the lobby.” Your roommate sighed when she realized she was missing her carry on.

“Okay. Text me when you get it.” You told her. Instead of getting on the elevator, you decided to stretch your legs and take the stairs. You had lugged your suitcase up a long flight and were about to round the corner when you smacked into someone. You almost went flying down the stairs, but something grabbed your shirt, something you’d later find out was a web, and sent you in the other direction. You collided with the stranger, feeling their firm grasp around your waist to keep you from falling back. You both panted as you caught your breath, feeling the strangers breath fam your face.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking and-Y/n?” The man asked. You blinked a few times as you stared at his face until you realized you knew those brown eyes.

“Oh my God, Peter?” You whispered as your eyes scanned his face, memorizing every new line and crease. His eyes were just as wide as yours, studying your features right back. An unfamiliar feeling filled your tummy as you stared at your childhood best friend, now fully grown. You couldn’t find the words to express how you were feeling, so you let go of your suitcase and wrapped your arms around his neck. Peter hugged you back immediately, taking in your scent. You were wearing perfume, something you hadn’t done when you were seven, but his super scent allowed him to smell your usual smell underneath it. Hugging you now felt different than it had when you were younger. His arms were wrapped around your hips, something you definitely didn’t have before. Your forever messy hair was longer and neat for once, as he was always used to seeing it in two braids. He could’ve cried holding you, but he didn’t want to scare you off. You pulled away and cupped his cheeks, smiling at what you saw.

“You look exactly the same.” You let out a breathy laugh. He did. He still had the boyish features you loved. The only difference now was he was taller and incredibly fit.

“Is that a good thing?” He chuckled, pleased to see your smile was just as he remembered.

“It’s the best thing.” You nodded, looking him up and down. “I can’t believe you never grew into your ears.”

“And you! You finally learned to brush your hair.” He dished it right back and you realized how much you missed his sense of humor, even better now with age.

“Shut up.” You scrunched your nose and smoothed your hand down with your hair. “What are you doing here? Did you move?”

“You remember my old place?” He raised his eyebrows, suddenly aware that his was still holding on to you. It didn’t seem to bother you, so he didn’t move.

“Uhh, Lee Towers apartment building, room 4D with the little flower sign under the peephole.” You recited, the view of his apartment door forever engraved in your no memory. The door always looked so big when you went from your height. “How could I forget? I practically lived there.”

“I know you did.” Peter smiled brightly at the memory of all your days spent in his apartment, the apartment he said goodbye too once Ben died. “May and I moved here a few months after high school started for a fresh start.”

“And I just moved here for college.” You said, mostly to yourself as the wheels in your Brian turned. You looked at Peter fondly and a smile tugged at your lips. “Your Uncle was right.”

“What do you mean?” He furrowed his eyebrows as you his face flushed from your close proximity.

“We found our way back to each other.” You said softly, your breath ticking his face.

“Yeah. I guess we did.” He bit back a smile, still reeling that he had you back in his arms after 10 years.

“Come on. You can tell me everything that’s happened for the past ten years while you help me unpack.” You grabbed his suitcase with one hand and his arm with the other. “But first, I gotta see May.”

1 month ago

“We talked the entire day. The sun started coming up and I was still telling him stories.” You smiled to yourself as you remembered the reunion. “We bounced back so easily, I felt like I had never left.”

“When two people are that right for each other, time has no effect. I speak from experience.” Steve smirked, a knowing gleam in his eyes.

“I know you do, lover boy.” You teased him. “I’ve seen your lady. She’s absolutely gorgeous.” You commented, having seen the photo of Peggy he kept on him more than a few times.

“She was.” He agreed. “And I found her just as pretty as an old broad as I did when we first met. Time meant nothing to me.”

“See? Sometimes, moving on is the wrong way to go. Some people are worth waiting for.” You decided, happy to have someone who agreed with you.

“So what happened next? Did you guys fall in love right away?” Steve asked, curious in the ending.

“No. It took about 3 months for us to finally bring up that conversation from before I left. We focused on rebuilding our friendship first.” You explained.

“I tell ya, I haven’t been this invested in a story since my presumedly dead best friend from the war showed up with a metal arm and a bloodlust.” Steve chuckled. “Keep going. How did you get together?”

“Relax. I’ll tell you.” You chuckled easily. “He and I had just got home from a college party. There was drinking, but Peter and I stayed away from that. A boy in our biology class, however, did not. He was flirting with me a little too much for Peters liking. I didn’t flirt back, but that didn’t matter to Peter. Another boy was after me and he got upset.”

5 years ago

“Whew. I don’t know about you, but think I’ve hit my party limit for the next month.” You blew out a breath as you kicked your heels off into the corner of Peters rooms

“No, me too.” Peter agreed, admiring the way you looked in your party dress one last time before you changed out of it. You shut the door to his bathroom but left it slightly ajar as you changed behind it. Peter made sure not to look, happy that you couldn’t see the flush on his face. You emerged from the bathroom in a hoodie and sleep shorts, taking a seat on Peters bed.

“You’re quiet.” You poked him, tilted your head to meet his eyes. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head and took your feet into his lap to rub them, knowing they were aching from your high heels. “Did you uh, get Brads number?”

“He told me his number but there were letters and some movie titles in it, so I’d say no.” You laughed, wincing a little when he touched a sore spot.

“He was all over you.” Peter grumbled, moving your feet next to his lap so he could trace small patterns on your leg.

“He was also drunk on 5 Black Cherry White Claws and wearing his belt on his head.” You reminded him in an attempt to cheer him up. He was clearly upset over something, you could tell by the way he wouldn’t look at you.

“He’s on the soccer team.” Peter brought up and you looked at him strangely. “I heard he gets good grade too.”

“Are you trying to set us up or something?” You laughed him off as you pulled your knees up to your chest to lean your chin on them.

“No. No, I just…” ,he sighed, “do you like him? In that way, I mean?”

“Peter, I don’t even know him.” You dismissed the idea. “Plus, he made a total fool of himself tonight. He threw any chance he had with me away the second he opened his mouth to show me his Viking impression.”

“Do you like anyone else, then?” He asked with a shrug, slowly looking up at you.

“Why are you asking me this?” You asked him curiously. You never talked about things like this together, lest it lead to a conversation neither of you were ready for.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.” Peter admitted, looking down at his hands nervously. “Do…do you remember the last thing we talked about? Before you left, I mean.”

“When I asked you to wait for me?” You laughed softly, noticing the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Yeah, that.” He gulped.

“Of course I do.” You shrugged like to were not big deal, even though it was the biggest deal to Peter. “To this day, that’s the boldest thing I’ve ever done. Kissing you and then running away? I pulled a real Cinderella on you that night.”

“I thought it was sweet.” Peter defended, slightly offended that you were taking the situation as lightly as you were.

“It was stupid. We were kids and we had no idea when we were gonna see each other again. At the time, I had no idea how unrealistic I was being, or how much I was asking of you. Didn’t I propose to you or something?” You cringed at the memory. Peter stared at you in shock, angry that you were making fun of one of the most momentous moments of his childhood.

“I didn’t think you were asking for that much.” He said assertively. “Nothing I wasn’t planning on doing anyway.”

“What were you planning on doing?” You asked, finally noticing how upset he was.

“Waiting for my best friend to come back so I could be with her.” Peter said, tears stinging his eyes as he tried to compose himself. “Marry her, even.”

“Shut up.” You shoved him playfully, but he didn’t let up. Your smile faded when you realized he was serious.

“Why are you making this a joke?” Peter asked bitterly. “Do you know how hard that day was for me?”

“Do I know how hard it was?” You repeated in shock. “Peter, I had to leave my home and get on a plane to live in an entirely new state that I had never been to before, all with no warning. My mother had to rip me out of your grasp while I kicked and screamed. I know exactly how hard that day was.”

You turned away from Peter and folded your arms, glaring at his wall while hot tears streamed down your face. You had been trying to avoid this conversation in fear of how it would go. Fear he didn’t wait after all when you had turned down every boy who approached you in the past ten years because they didn’t amount to Peter. The fears were feeling very real in the moment and it overwhelmed you.

“Why did you kiss me?” He asked quietly. You looked at him over your shoulder and saw that he was crying too.

“Something inside me just told me I had to.” You shrugged slightly. “I had to give you something to make sure you wouldn’t forget me.”

“I could never forget you.” Peter said assuredly. “You don’t forget your first love.”

“I guess you don’t, do you?” You smiled softly and wiped your tears on your hoodie sleeve. “I loved you before I knew the meaning of the word. But I didn’t really need the meaning, looking back. The feeling was enough. Feelings for you.” You looked at him shyly. “Feelings that told me I needed to kiss you before I lost the chance. I guess that’s what happens when you’re 7 and in love with your best friend.”

“Well, I’m 18 and in love with my best friend. What happens then?” Peter declared, tired of beating around the bush. You turned to him and tugged your sleeves over your hands.

“Peter, what?” You whispered.

“That kiss you gave me was my first kiss.” He admitted.

“Mine too.” You said simply.

“It was also my last kiss.” He continued. You opened your mouth and shut it, taking on the weight of what he was saying.

“Mine too.” You breathed. You and Peter stared at each other, looking at the face of the best friend you’d fallen in love with, the one you’d always been in love with. You swallowed as you prepared to ask Peter the answer to a question you asked him when you were 7. “Did you-“

Peter cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, holding your face in place with his hands. You put your hand on the back of his neck and kissed him back, feeling a tear fall down your cheek as all your fears dissipated. Peter pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“Yes.” He mumbled against your lips. “I waited.”

1 month ago

“That’s how it started. We were only together about 9 months before he disappeared.” You told Steve. “You know, I still go home every night and hope he knocks on my door. I always expect him to burst through the door, his flannel flowing behind him like a cape and just pick me up and kiss me. He’d thank me for waiting and I’d tell him it was nothing, that I was happy to do it, because he was worth it.”

“You know, I used to think you were stubborn. But I get it now.” Steve looked at you fondly. “That’s a love worth waiting your entire life for. What I don’t understand is how you sat in that chair for 5 years and never told us that story. Why wouldn’t you say something?”

“Because it’s ours, and it’s all I have left of him.” You smiled sadly. “I don’t want to share it and make people sad, because it’s not a sad story. To me, it’s the greatest love story of all time.”

“We’re gonna get them back. One way or another, we’re gonna fix this. I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to reunite you guys.” Steve said definitively.

“Why?” You asked him.

“Because I don’t want your story to end like that. You’re 23. I can’t sit back and watch you sit on the bench for the rest of your life, waiting for somebody to come home. I’m gonna bring him home. All of them.” Steve declared.

“How?” You asked. It had been 5 years already and no progress was made to get them back.

“I have a friend I need to talk to. You’re coming with me. Come on.” He stood up and held his hand out. You looked him up and down before smirking and taking his hand.

Present Day

Since you helped bring the Avengers together to set the Time Heist in motion, Tony decided it was only fair to let you help out in the final battle with Thanos. He leant you an Iron suit that you were currently using against a slew of space dogs. The more you fought off, the more came to attack you. It didn’t help that your heart was beating out of your chest knowing that Peter was somewhere on the battle field. You didn’t know how long you had been fighting, but your arms ached with every movement. You sucked in a sharp breath as a space dog lunged at your uncovered face.

You were about to cover your face when you felt something attach to your suit from the back. Before you could react, you felt a tug and flew through the air. You landed in somebody’s arms and saw the battlefield upside down as they dipped you, just like in the movies. They brought you back up and you were suddenly face to face with Peter Parker.

“Is my damsel in distress?” His Queens accent filled your ears as your eyes fell on his smirk.

“Peter?” You said breathlessly, eyes filling with tears at the sight of your boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in 5 years.

“I think so, unless my dust particles reconfigured into Zooey Dechannel.” Peter said sarcastically, making you erupt in laughter as the tears fell down your face.

“Peter!” You squealed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him as tight as you could. His new metal suit made it different, so you restarted to running your hands through his hair, trying to touch any part of his skin that you could reach. In the distance, Steve saw the two of you embracing and smiled to himself.

“Hi.” He laughed in your ear, appreciating all the affection. In his mind, he had seen you just a few hours ago. He didn’t register how much this meant to you. You buried your face in his neck and took in his scent.

“You smell like a new car.” You laughed in happy surprise, looking him up and down to take in his appearance. He looked exactly as you remembered, every freckle and hair in the same place.

“It’s the suit. Mr. Stark made it for me.” Peter said excitedly.

“Its beautiful.” You breathed, not taking your eyes off his face.

“Thank you! I haven’t actually seen it yet but it feels really cool.” Peter said as he looked at his hands. He was obviously to the moonstruck look you were giving him, just happy to be near him. “Mr. Stark got really mad at me because I snuck on the spaceship after he specifically told me not to sneak on the spaceship but it was a good thing because I helped get rid of the bad guys using the technique we saw in Alien.”

“Wow.” You nodded, just happy to be hearing his voice again.

“And the bad guy was like this half squid, half person who spoke with a British accent even though he’s from space.” Peter went on, childlike excitement filling in the brown eyes you’d been missing for the past 5 years. “Y/n, I don’t mean to overwhelm you, but I’m pretty sure there’s a second Britain in space that we don’t know about.”

“Really?” You humored him, tears of happiness still rolling down your face.

“It was so cool, Y/n. Until I died, anyway.” He laughed. “I wish you could’ve been there.”

“I wish that too.” You cried. “I’ve really missed you, Peter.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He smiled brightly. Your lip began to tremble at how I overwhelmed you were and Peters protective boyfriend instincts took over.

“Hey.” He took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up. “Listen, I know it’s been five years for you and I’m a fool to even ask. But, by any chance, did you-“

You put your hand on the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. The feeling of his lips on yours after all those years triggered a waterfall of tears to flow. You wrapped both arms around his neck as he held your waist firmly against his, kissing you as hard as he could. You sobbed into the kiss before pulling away, peppering kisses all around his mouth and jaw.

“Yes.” You smiled as he wiped away your tears. “I waited.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @foreverxholland​ @writing-for-hours-on-end​ @lavender-writer​ @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @theolwebshooter​ @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human​ @celestial-skylines​ @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @delicately-important-trash​ @spideygirl2003​ @the-crazy-fanfictionist​ @maryjanee23​ @spacebitch2​ @geeksareunique​ @emmamarshmellow​ @jillanaholland​ @unbelievableholland​ @rebekkah4766​ @flixndchill​ @sovereignparker​ @wendaiii​ @thisisthebiplace​ @spideydobrik​ @every-marveler-ever​ @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e​ @eridanuswave​ @itscaminow​ @thegr8kush​ @solarxmoonchild​ @where-art-thau-romeo​ @canyouevencauseicant​ @probablyparker​ @illwritetomorrow​ @thehappygrungelife​ @saysomethingspiderman​ @parkerboop​ @smilexcaptainx​ @hes-amarillo​ @quaksonhehe​ @kelieah​

[jackiearbs]

things that rwrb characters have said that i will never forget, a thread:

alex claremont-diaz, giving off dumbass™ energy (he has the most on this thread, for obvious reasons) 

- "put them in my room, put them in my room, put them in my room-" 

-  “Jesus Christ, it’s like they can see into your soul. cornbread knows my sins, Henry. cornbread knows what I have done, and he is here to make me atone.”   

- "do it for the 'gram"

- "leading member of korean pop band bts kim nam-june" 

- "whatever, fine. henry is annoyingly attractive. that’s always been a thing, objectively. it’s fine.”

- "see attached bibliography"

- "i said, you look great, baby!”

- "yo there’s a bond marathon on and did you know your dad was a total babe"

- "awesome, fuckin' love doing things out of spite.”

-”Huge Raging Headache Prince Henry of Who Cares”

-”it is amazing you can sit down to write emails with that gigantic royal stick up your ass.” 

- “who names a dog David? He sounds like a tax attorney.”

-” “Do I go on your side of the cubicle and turn off your Dropkick Murphys Spotify station, no matter how much I want to?” Alex demands. “No, Hunter, I don’t.”

- “for fuck's sake, man, you just had my dick in your mouth, you can kiss me good-night.”

- “Bake Off makes Chopped look like the fucking Manson tapes.”

- “THEY KNOW. THEY KNOW I HAVE ROBBED THEM OF FIVE-STAR ACCOMMODATIONS TO SIT IN A CAGE IN MY ROOM, AND THE MINUTE I TURN MY BACK THEY ARE GOING TO FEAST ON MY FLESH.”

- “You’re from Boston, Hunter. You really want to talk about all the places bigotry comes from?” (he really hates hunter goddamn) 

-”so, what? you want me to quit politics and go become a princess? that’s not very feminist of you.” 

hrh prince dickhead😎  - "the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed. O, fathers of my bloodline! O, ye kings of olde! Take this crown from me, bury me in my ancestral soil. If only you had known the mighty work of thine loins would be undone by a gay heir who likes it when American boys with chin dimples are mean to him.”

-"“I’ve been gay as a maypole since the day I came out of Mum, Philip.”

-”i will turn this car around.”

- “yes, the cocaine, alex.” 

-”i am a delight!”

-”have i mentioned lately that you’re a demon?” 

- “are you psychoanalyzing me? i don't think royal guests are allowed to do that.”

- "i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.”

-“the phrase ‘see attached bibliography’ is the single sexiest thing you have ever written to me.”

-"i just mean to say, you know, Philip is the heir and I'm the spare, and if that nervy bastard has a heart attack at thirty five and I've got malaria, whither the spare?”

- “they wanted something less fruity than the truth, but truly, what is gayer than a woman who languishes away in a crumbling mansion wearing her wedding gown every day of her life, for the drama?”

- “You are a delinquent and a plague. Please come?”

- “fat and sexually conquered, snuffed out in the spring of my youth. Here lies Prince Henry of Wales. He died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.”

june:  “- that is a clear quartz crystal for good vibes do not @ me.” 

- “He’s just so frail, it’d only take one good push-”

- “ugh! men! no emotional vocabulary. i can’t believe our ancestors survived centuries of wars and plagues and genocide just to wind up with your sorry ass.” 

nora: 

-”sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again? my bad. hello, would you like to come out to me? im listening. hi.” 

“prince henry is a biscuit. let him sop you up.”  

- “you’ve been, like, Draco Malfoy–level obsessed with Henry for years.”

- “i don’t know, man. I was in my junior year of high school, and I touched a boob. It wasn’t very profound. Nobody’s gonna write an Off-Broadway play about it.”

dahra: 

- “You need to get back to fucking England now, and if anyone sees you leave, I will personally end you. Ask me if I’m afraid of the crown.”

- “both sides need to come out of this looking like your little slap-fight at the wedding was some homoerotic frat bro mishap, okay? So, you can hate the heir to the throne all you want, write mean poems about him in your diary, but the minute you see a camera, you act like the sun shines out of his dick, and you make it convincing.”

-”come on, you backyard-shooting-range motherfuckers,”

ellen (should i say PRESIDENT claremont) 

- “Diaz, you insane, hopeless romantic little shit"

-  “I had Planned Parenthood send over all these pamphlets, take one! They sent a bike messenger and everything!”

- ”where? Are you hiding a turkey habitat up your ass, son? Where, in our historically protected house, am I going to put a couple of turkeys until I pardon them tomorrow?”

-“As your mother, I can appreciate that maybe this isn’t your fault, but as the president, all I want is to have the CIA fake your death and ride the dead-kid sympathy into a second term.”

PEZ !!!

- “frolic naked in the hills, frighten the sheep, return to the house for the usual: tea, biscuits, casting ourselves onto the Thighmaster of love to moan about the Claremont-Diaz siblings, which has become tragically one-sided since Henry took it up with you. It used to be all bottles of cognac and shared malaise and ‘When will they notice us’-” 

-”-and now i just ask henry, ‘what is your secret?’ and he says, ‘i insult alex all the time, and that seems to work.’” 

**extra: nicer quotes from alex and henry 

alex heartthrob diaz  - "never tell me the odds"

-"we were not afforded that liberty."

-“I hate this so much. I know. But we’re gonna do it together. And we’re gonna make it work. You and me and history, remember? We’re just gonna fucking fight. Because you’re it, okay? I’m never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you. So, I promise you, one day we’ll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.”

- “On purpose. I love him on purpose.”

- “history, huh? Bet we could make some.”

- “But the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.”

-“Take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.”

- “Someone else’s choice doesn’t change who you are.”

- “I am the First Son of the United States, and I'm bisexual. History will remember us.”

- “America: He is my choice.”

- “Give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart, There's so much of you.”

- the entire list of the things he loves about henry. i would die 

henry: 

-”i’ll be damned but i miss you.” 

- “when you rang me at truly shocking hours of the night, I loved you. When you kissed me in disgusting public toilets and pouted in hotel bars and made me happy in ways in which it had never even occurred to me that a mangled-up, locked-up person like me could be happy, I loved you. and then, inexplicably, you had the absolute audacity to love me back. Can you believe it?”

- “it sounds like you did your best.”

- “I’ve bloody well had it. I’ve sat about long enough letting you and Gran and the weight of the damned world keep me pinned, and I’m finished. I don’t care. You can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse, Philip. I’m done.”

- “Should I tell you that when we’re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I’ve just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all?”

[solange-lol]

"why don't we be friends (why don't we make out)" - (1/1)

words: 2,373

read on ao3

—

There are very few people that Nico forgets about. At least, as far as the people that have stuck around with him for most of his life.

He’s known Percy and Annabeth since they were young, remembering watching the two of them chase each other around the schoolyard and purposefully try and get desks right next to each other before they were inevitably separated by alphabetical last name seating. He remembers trying to convince Piper to do his french project and Jason sitting in the halls with him outside of the music room when they wouldn’t want to go outside for recess in middle school. He can still hear the alarm when Leo accidentally knocked over a bunsen burner in their sophomore year chemistry class, and the feeling of paint on his skin when Hazel tripped and sent half of her palette onto him in their art class.

Nico can even recall moments with the people he was never particularly close to, like when Rachel told him she loved him backstage of their winter concert after only having known him for five minutes (in a very lesbian/gay solidarity way, of course), or when Grover spent an entire hour hiding out in their school library to get away from their math sub.

It’s strange now, looking across such a large circle of people piled into Jason and Thalia’s house. They’re all people from his grade (or class , he supposes, now that they’re officially graduated), Each one of them, Nico can remember at least one conversation he’s had with them, one story he’s passed into his closer friend group that is laughed over and then inevitably moved on from.

It was supposed to be a big party celebrating all their friendships throughout the years.

Ironically, so many people that had such little impact on him, in retrospect.

Which is why it comes as a surprise to him when he sees a flash of blonde curls and freckled skin among the sea of people. He’s hit with what feels like a wall of memories of the two of them, laying in the same bed trading quiet secrets, and walks to the store to get an inhumane amount of candy that they can go share at the pier. Images of blue eyes, warm hands in his, and the sound of stifled laughter at midnight feel all too familiar. Nico is stuck on them.

He hasn’t seen Will in years.

It wasn’t exactly his choice. It wasn’t either of theirs, really. They had gone to middle school together, and from the ages of 10 to 14, Will knew the most about him.

And then their middle school graduation came and went, and Will left for a boarding school. Nico remembers, vaguely, Will asking him to come with them.

“They offer more classes, and there are more opportunities for help,” they had said, or something along the lines of it. “And we could be roommates.”

Part of him wanted to. All of him almost went. But it was the same year he lost his sister, and while moving to another state for school sounded like a fantastic way to avoid all his trauma, he had to stay with his family. Not that his father would have stopped him, but Nico knew he couldn’t go. Not yet.

So he stayed, and Will left, and it all worked out fine. They texted every other day, facetimed once or twice a month when their schedules lined up. Will came home for Christmas that year, telling stories about the other kids on their floor and their girlfriend. Then, when he came home for that summer, about their boyfriend.

Nico would listen, then catch Will up about what was going on at his public school. He had gone out on a date with one boy which was nice but didn’t turn into anything, and Will told him he would find someone eventually. They took trips to the mall together instead of the pier, mostly just to get milkshakes and have a place to walk around.

One morning, Will convinced him to bike to the beach in the morning to see the sunrise. The sky ended up being too cloudy, but they still sat together on the empty lifeguard chair, swapped sweatshirts and bagels with cream cheese, and talking about summer jobs and college.

Then Will left for their sophomore year, and school caught up to both of them and whatever kept them going was lost. The most Nico talked to them was through the occasional Snapchat sent to each other or on a group facetime

The last time Nico had called Will alone, it was in a panic to ask advice on how to break up with the boy he was dating at the time because he realized that relationships weren’t really his thing, at least not yet. Will had sat quietly, giving him occasional advice, and mostly just comforted him.

And that was it.

Nico had gotten a new phone later that year, and all their call logs and long text threads were lost into the depths of his phone memory.

It was bittersweet, in all honesty, and pretty painless for the most part. Maybe it’s because Nico never really forgot about Will. There was never any clear ending; no hard feelings between the two of them. He still sees their posts on social media, sees their mom in the store on occasion. He remembers passing Will at their local fair when they came home again for the summer of their junior year with their boyfriend that they were still dating, and then later again the next when he noticed that all posts had been removed from their Instagram including the ones with said boyfriend and nothing but will - they/them in their bio.

He wondered, briefly, where Will had gone when he didn’t even see him in passing over the following summer. Was he still going to the boarding school? Had his family moved out of the state entirely?

It never felt like a friendship breakup. It was clear now, though.

Nico wonders at which point it became one. He didn’t mean to stare at Will as long as he did. Everything had just come washing over him at once, and he was frozen in place staring at the person Nico had once called his best friend.

He doesn’t even realize he was staring until Will looks back. Their blue eyes meet his brown ones, and reality sets back in. The loud music he had drowned out in his daydream came filtering back through his ears, and he stumbles as people shove past him towards the kitchen. Still, his gaze locks on Will.

Neither of them makes a move towards each other at first.

Then, a moment later, Will is right next to him.

“Hey,” they say it slowly, almost like they were testing the waters, like they knew how long it had been since they had spoken.

Nico doesn’t know what to say. His first instinct was to hug them.

He withstands it, though, instead grabbing onto their wrist and pulling them past the crowd of people and into one of the rooms off of the main hall, which was miraculously empty. He can still hear the pounding music, but it was a little bit quieter with the door closed. Quiet enough that he can think again.

“Uh, hi,” Will tries again, and god, their smile never changed.

“Sorry,” Nico says once he realized he had just seemingly dragged them into a secondary location with no explanation. “It was just… loud. Out there.”

“I get it,” Will says, sitting down on the couch pushed onto the far wall and looking back up at Nico. They were wearing a pinkish-orange button-up Hawaiian shirt that looked straight out of their dad’s closet (Nico would know, he’s seen it before) that was half-tucked into mid-rise light wash jeans that were cuffed just enough that you could see a glimpse of where their socks met their Converse. Yellow, possibly the same pair they had bought at the mall two years prior when Nico was there.

They got taller, he thinks vaguely. Nico had too, but Will still has at least half a foot on him.

“So, what’s up?”

“Not much, I guess,” he shrugs, twisting his ring. “I mean, I graduated. I assume you did too.”

Will nods. “I did. Lou Ellen invited me as her plus one. You know her, right? Friends with Rachel.”

Nico nods. Shoulder length, cloud-like hair that was a different color every other week. Wore lots of random thrifted t-shirts over big pants. Loud personality, even louder voice. Band kid. Friends with Cecil; her good grades probably being the only reason he hasn’t been kicked out of the school yet. Once debated the legitimacy of gender binaries with him in an English class.

“Sorry for, like, staring at you before,” he says. “It’s been a while.”

They nod again. “All good. I was staring at you before anyway.”

“You were?”

“Yeah,” Will shrugs. “You’re easy to look at.”

Then, a moment later, “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah. You’ve changed a bit.”

“Have I?” They ask. “I think just my look, maybe. I’m still just as obnoxious.”

Nico snorts. It’s comforting to know they could just slip back into it like this. Like no time had ever passed, and Nico is back in their bedroom creating each other in The Sims.

“Are you still dating Connor?” Nico asks, vaguely remembering the last conversation they had.

“Nah, we broke up last winter.”

“Any reason?”

Will squints a bit like they’re curious why Nico’s asking. It makes Nico blush, immediately regretting saying anything.

“Dunno. We just grew apart,” they say. Then, “Sounds kinda familiar, doesn’t it?” followed by a laugh.

“I didn’t mean to stop talking to you,” Nico says quickly because he didn’t. There are days where he sees Will’s Instagram story or a tweet and knows that even though he could still comment, it wouldn’t quite be the same.

“Life got busy,” Will says. “It happens”

“I didn’t want it to. Not to us.”

“So let's restart.”

Nico blinks. “Just… start over our entire friendship?”

“No, just pick up where we left off.”

“Just like nothing happened?” he asks, sitting down on the couch next to them.

“Just like nothing happened,” Will affirms.

They’re both quiet for a moment, then—

“Do you remember what you told me when you first came out as bisexual to me?”

It was in the basement of Will’s house. Nico had come out as gay a few weeks prior, and when he was talking about the boy he liked, they just casually mentioned it. Being with Will like this again reminded him of something they had said, and something he later found out.

“I think I just, like… told you, right?” Will smiles. “And I said you were a big part of helping me figure out.”

“Yeah. I always thought you meant because I had already come out,” Nico said. “It wasn’t until, like, last year that Piper mentioned you meant that because you liked me.”

Will laughed again. “I figured you didn’t. You were always talking about what bad of a couple we would make.”

“Yeah,” Nico said, and his heart picked up pace as his knee knocked against Will’s by accident. Neither of them moved. “I actually had a massive crush on you for a while. I think I just said that because I wanted to try and get over it, so I wanted you to indirectly reject me.”

“Did you ever get over it?”

Nico laughs. “Not really. But I moved on.”

He notices Will shift closer, notices how their hands are now on top of each other and their legs are fully pressed together.

“Same,” Will says, moving their head closer to Nico’s until their foreheads are pressed together and their breaths mingle. They look at him for any sign to stop, and Nico doesn’t move.

“Good thing we’re starting over then, right?” they continue, practically a breath of a whisper before their lips connect, and god Nico did not think this was where his night was going but no way in hell was he about to stop it. (He’s not sober enough to care, anyway, and seemingly neither is Will judging by the strong scent smell of weed coming off of his shirt.)

Their hands laced together, subconsciously, almost like muscle memory from all the days walking hand in hand down the dock. (Nico wonders if his younger self was ever trying to tell his mind something.) Nico’s other hand comes up to rest on warm skin, brushing Will’s cheek with his thumb like he’s trying to wipe the freckles off.

Will wraps one arm around Nico’s waist, pulling him closer until he eventually just shifts so he’s in their lap. Will certainly doesn’t complain, only tilting their head to deepen the kiss and breaking apart their hands so they can run one hand through Nico’s hair.

They have to break apart after a moment, and Nico can help it when he laughs.

“Guess we were a little dumb when we were younger, huh?”

Will’s breathing heavy, but Nico doesn’t miss the familiar playful glint in their eye. “I don’t know what you mean. You’re still an idiot,” they say, pressing a kiss to the underside of Nico’s jaw, and another one right next to his ear.

He wonders if Will has thought about doing this the same way Nico has.

“Says you,” Nico says. “You were far more oblivious than I was.”

“I’m not the one who said we would make a bad couple,” they remind Will.

“Yeah?” he says, then leans back in to kiss Will again. Their mouths slot together, and god, they’re an even better kisser than Nico ever thought they could be. Something in his mind tells him maybe it’s not relationships he didn’t like, maybe he just knew it wasn’t the right person.

Perhaps Will’s that person he was always looking for.

Nico leans back, just barely so he can mumble “Lucky for you, I’m willing to test that theory,”  against Will’s lips just before they pull him in once more.

—

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@unicornsgomooo @anxiouswinter @soulangelou @number-of-fucks-i-give-0 @underworldystuff @theeloquentsnake @solangelover@thefandomsaretakingover @internallyexplodingrainbows​ @hairasuntouchedaspartoftheamazon​ @motivatedcryptidtamer @emilyfairchild @wherethewildthingsare-nt @hetapeep41 @blavk-dahlia

[obxsummer]

Our Secret // John B. Routledge

word count: 2.6k

pairing: john b routledge x maybank!reader

warnings: lots of cursing, descriptive physical child abuse, mentions of sex, angry!JJ, angst

summary: you thought you were doing so well hiding your relationship from your brother. after an amazing day with your boyfriend, you come to realize that jj’s not as oblivious as you predicted which ends in the worst argument you’ve ever witnessed.

request: hiiiii a request where you’re seeing john b in secret because you’re jj’s sister and then jj finds out?

masterlist

ask me anything

--

“I swear to God if you leave a hickey, JJ’s going to murder your ass.”

John B laughed, his lips pressed against your neck as he hovered over you, one hand holding him up as the other rested on your cheek. “I’m not that dumb. Plus, he can’t murder someone if he doesn’t know who to murder.”

This isn’t the typical post-sex conversation most couples had but for you and John B, it was normal. The past five months had involved a lot of lying, skipping plans, faking sicknesses, and a lot of concealer to keep your relationship hidden from prying eyes. There were two main reasons everything was secret: one, no Pogue on Pogue macking and two, your brother would literally punt John B into another country. 

It wasn’t that JJ was against you dating anyone, but he definitely wouldn’t appreciate the fact that at the end of the day you were crawling under the sheets with his best friend. You couldn’t help it though. Being with John B was literally intoxicating and you found yourself needing more every single moment you were with him.

There had been many close calls, but somehow, you had managed to keep your secret thus far and you weren’t planning on spilling anytime soon. Although it sucked to keep your hands to yourself when you were with your other friends and your brother, it was worth it when the two of you spent time alone.

“John B? You here?” 

John B’s hand was over your mouth before you could even scream in surprise. He held a finger to his lips in a sign to be quiet as he pushed off of you. You quickly got up, pulling a shirt over your head as you snuck into the bathroom.

While your boyfriend left the room to confront your brother, you took a moment to adjust your appearance in the mirror. You rolled your eyes, spotting an already darkening mark on the dip of your collarbones where John B had definitely ignored your warnings, not that you minded, it just took a little additional effort to cover up.

Sighing, you leaned against the wall as you listened to the muffled conversation going on through the wall. After a few brief minutes, there was a knock on the door before it opened, revealing John B’s exhausted figure.

“He’s gone,” He mumbled as he walked towards you. “Sorry about that.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck before kissing him softly. “It’s my brother, my problem. I probably should be going anyway. He’ll get suspicious here soon.”

“Yet you’ll end up back on my couch around midnight,” He mumbled against your lips, hands rubbing your back. “I wish I could do more for you guys.”

“Letting us crash here is more than enough,” You responded, “It means I get to see you even longer.”

John B hugged you tighter to his chest and rested his chin on your head. He hated knowing that you and JJ feared going home. Even before the two of you were dating, he couldn’t stand the fact that you could possibly end up with a black eye or a bruised rib. Your dad always blamed harming JJ on the fact that he looked like your mom, but at the end of the day, you were her splitting image. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if it was actually her again or just you hiding in the shadows.

It freaked JJ out. Knowing that you weren’t safe from the hands of your own dad was hard, but for your brother, he couldn’t stand it. There were countless times JJ would walk through the front door so you could sneak in the window, or he would take the blame for a broken dish with the idea that your dad would react even worse if he knew it was you. You were overwhelmed with guilt knowing that your brother put himself on the front of the battle every single time to keep you safe. You hated knowing JJ was bruised and bleeding because of you.

“Be safe, okay? I’ll be here if you need me.”

Once you had all of your stuff and clothes were returned, the walk back to your house was one filled with anxiety and nerves. You knew JJ was home from the bike outside and you managed to sneak in without a peep, your dad crashed on the couch completely asleep. You exhaled and tiptoed to your room without another word.

“Where the hell have you been?” JJ hissed as he stood in the doorway of his room. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I told you I was going to the beach for a walk, chill. And what exactly do you want?”

“Did the horny seagulls give you a hickey?” His finger pressed against the dark spot on your neck. You rolled your eyes and shoved his hand away. He wasn’t actually looking for you, he just wanted to give you shit. 

“Fuck off, JJ,” You mumbled before going into your room and shutting the door without another word. You weren’t in the mood to deal with him, nor were you up to covering your tracks. You flopped on the bed with a groan, still sleepy from your day with John B. You closed your eyes and allowed sleep to take over.

--

Waking up was a whole new adventure. Voices were shouting, glass broke somewhere along the lines and it had you on your feet in seconds. Throwing open your door, you walked straight into someone’s back causing you to stumble slightly.

“What’s going on?” You mumbled, still half asleep. You had run into JJ, who turned to glare at you with an anger you haven’t seen before. You stood next to him so you could get a clear view of the scene.

“What’s going on is your brother is screaming like a maniac for no goddamn reason!” Your dad shouted, pointing at JJ who was already sporting a black eye. He had clearly been woken up from his nap early and one of you would pay for it with more than a bruised eye.

Your brother ignored your dad, however, and instead was still attempting to murder you with his eyes. “Wanna explain this?” The dark blue piece of fabric dangling in his hand sent a chill through you as you recognized John B’s bandana in between his fingers.

“It’s John B’s? So what?” You tried to play it off but deep down, you knew you were screwed. “We’re with him all the time, JJ. That’s not abnormal.”

“No, but it is abnormal that I’m finding his clothing in your room, hickeys on your neck, and you’re both coincidentally ‘busy’ at the same time on most days. So what the hell is it, Y/N?” JJ was yelling now and you were becoming increasingly terrified. Your brother never got angry with you, not like this. “What are you hiding from me?”

“Great, now I’m letting a whore live in this fuck up of a house!” Your dad reentered the conversation to give his two cents. “I fucking knew I shouldn’t have let your mother talk me into keeping you. You’ve turned into nothing but a worthless piece of shit who just takes up space and wastes money!”

His hand clamped around the collar of your t-shirt as he shoved you against the wall, his saliva landing on your cheeks as he continued to scream. A large hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your airway as he held you off the ground. “You’re a slut, you hear me? Fucking your brother’s best friend like the piece of trash you are.” 

“Dad!” JJ’s voice echoed in your ears as you struggled in the harsh grip, your vision spotty as you tried to kick your way to freedom. Your brother was pulling against your dad’s shoulder to get him to let go, a panicked look in his eyes at the image before him.

“Stop,” You gasped as you shoved your hand out, barely hitting your father’s chin as you attempted to get any air. “Please.”

Your weak body collided with the floor where you choked for oxygen. The battle wasn’t over until multiple harsh kicks were landed on your ribs and back. You cried out and curled into a ball. The world slowly became still as you managed to get to your feet before darting out the door without another look. Knowing running wouldn’t help your already damaged situation, you threw your leg over the seat of JJ’s bike, thankful that he left the keys in the ignition before speeding away towards the only place you could find help.

John B was swaying in the hammock when you pulled up in a frenzy, leaving barely enough time to kill the engine before you were scrambling towards him. “Y/N?” He was pushing himself out of the hammock to meet you halfway when you crashed into him, heavy sobs leaving your chest as you held on to him tightly. 

“I’m sorry! I tried to stop it a-and-” 

“Shhh,” John B held your head against his chest as he rubbed your back in an attempt to calm you down. “You’re okay, baby. I’m right here. Calm down.”

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, but it was enough time for your breathing to slow and JJ to get his ass over to the chateau. His heart broke as he watched you stand there and cry in his best friend’s arms. JJ never wanted to hurt you, and he never wanted to set you in a situation where your father could hurt you, yet that’s exactly what he did. He felt awful and seeing the already forming bruises around your throat made him want to throw up.

“Little?” The nickname left JJ’s lips unconsciously. He had called you that for years ever since someone said you looked like the smaller version of him as a kid. He never let you live it down, always calling you “little” or “mini-me”. JJ was so grateful to have you in his life but he hated that it took until now for him to realize how much he needed you.

At the sound of your brother’s voice, you hugged your boyfriend even tighter causing John B to look at the new presence. Seeing your brother, he frowned yet didn’t shift to remove you from his arms. Whatever happened upset you severely and if this was how JJ found out about the two of you, then this was how JJ was going to find out.

John B’s fingers tapped the side of your thigh, a signal between the two of you that was unspoken but simply understood. You jumped from the ground into his suspecting arms as he carried you like a koala back to the hammock before settling in. It took some adjusting before you both were comfortable with him laying on his back and you resting on his chest. His lips pressed against your forehead as he continued to rub your back in a calming manner.

JJ stood in shock as he watched the interaction between you. Never would he imagine this, but watching you and John B was like watching a cheesy rom-com. It looked so right, and it was this moment when JJ realized how badly he fucked up in reacting out of anger.

“Hey,” John B mumbled as he watched JJ lose his control on his emotions on the steps of the chateau. “Pretty girl, you gotta let me see what happened.” The bruises on your skin didn’t go unnoticed to him but he wanted to wait a bit before talking to you about it. With a shaky breath you sat back on the hammock and let John B pull your t-shirt over your head to reveal your bruised stomach and chest. Some spots were red where skin was torn and your neck clearly revealed the outline of a hand.

“Fuck,” JJ cursed at himself as he ran a hand through his messy blond hair, tears of his own falling from his eyes as he realized what just happened. At the sight of your injuries, he lost it. He swore to protect you, to keep you out of his father’s cruel hands if it was the last thing he did and he failed. He failed because he was so pissed over you having a relationship and not telling him. “Little, I’m so sorry.”

You forced yourself to look over at your older brother before carefully stepping down from the hammock. John B followed you, handing back your t-shirt as you walked over to JJ and wrapped him in a hug. “It’s not your fault.”

“But it is!” JJ argued as he let you hold onto him. “I shouldn’t have even brought it up in front of him, that’s so fucked up, Y/N! I stood there, a-and I just let him because I was so pissed that you were fucking John B behind my back. Fuck! I’m so stupid!”

You shook your head, tears falling again as your brother finally broke in your arms and hugged you back, the two of you crying together. “I should’ve told you,” You mumbled into his shoulder. “It’s not just fucking around, J. I promise. He makes me really, really happy, and I should’ve just told you from the start.”

“We both should have,” John B interrupted as he stood a few feet away and observed the scene. “I’m sorry, JJ. I promise you this isn’t just some hook-up thing. I really love her, man.”

You smiled slightly at his words. The two of you had yet to say I love you to each other, as cheesy as that was, but standing here in the moment, you knew you loved John B. You loved him more than anything, enough that you were willing to risk your relationship with your brother because of it.

“It’s okay, man,” JJ sniffled as he pulled away from the hug, instead adjusting to hold you to his chest so he could have the small bit of comfort knowing you were okay. “It’s not worth an argument over. I’m really happy for you, trust me. Just wish this could’ve been in different circumstances.

“And I’m so sorry for letting that happen, Little. I never ever want to see you in that position again, and I’m sorry I let it happen in the first place like. Fuck!” JJ pulled at his hair in frustration. “I’m such a fucked up brother!”

“You are not!” You defended as you stepped away from him. “JJ, there’s been so many times where you take the damage instead of me, even if I deserve it. You can’t blame yourself for our shitty dad. It’s not your fault, it never will be your fault.”

John B shook his head. “You never deserve it. Neither of you do. Just stay here, yeah? You don’t have to go back.”

JJ wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed the side of your head. “I’m sorry.”

You shoved him away and gave him a light punch to the arm. “Would you stop apologizing? It’s nobody’s fault. Look, let’s just go inside and chill, okay?”

“Fine, but if I find out that there’s more hickeys on your neck tomorrow, I will bust someone’s ass, you hear me, John B?”

“JJ! Shut up!”

[random-imagines-blog]

Promise Me Part 2 {Reggie Mantle x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2244 Summary: Some people aren’t taking the kindest to your budding relationship. Sequel to Promise Me, Part 1 Found Here (X)

The only thing better than hanging out with Reggie at school was the reactions from the other students. Especially your ex boyfriend Sweet Pea. Karma came around and knocked him off of his ass, just as you were hoping. Her summer fling, Josie, had dumped him for Archie Andrews, just the way that he had dumped you for her. A petty side of you was happy about that. He deserved it. He got to be grumpy around the halls of Riverdale High while you walked around with Reggie following you like some kind of lovesick puppy. After you had taken him out for his birthday, showed him a good time with a bunch of drag Queens and sugary alcohol-free drinks, he’d taken to you even more. Didn’t even complain when he had to ride bitch on the back of your motorcycle back to your snug little town.

“Are you ready for the test today?” Reggie asked, somewhat sarcastically. You had been blowing him off lately to study for this exam. You really needed to do well on it to pass this class, since you had been just cruising through it instead of trying. It was now or never.

You took your study notes out of your pocket, where they had been crumpled up for a couple of hours, and slammed them down on the cafeteria table. “You have no idea how ready I am, Mantle.” You said with a smirk. You flattered out the pieces of paper and went right back to studying them while Reggie sat beside you and made sure that your hair didn’t get into your food. You were eating without paying attention, and if he hadn’t stepped in, you probably would have eaten a lock or two. You were appreciative of it, but never knew how to show that sort of thing.

You never thought that this would have worked out. Reggie, with his range of emotions - most of them fueled by negativity, like jealousy and arrogance but once in a while, he showed you something nice. Meanwhile, your brother Jughead had once complained that you had the emotional range of a knife. But yet there was something between you two. Something more than you had ever felt with Sweet Pea. This in no way felt like a relationship out of convenience.

“When you pass, I’ll take you out to Pop’s, we’ll get milkshakes,” Reggie said, clipping your hair back for the upteenth time.

“Yay, another milkshake,” You said, deadpan as always. “We always go for  milkshakes, Reg, I think that this deserves something a little more special. What about our secret place?”

“What, you showed him your stupid secret place?”A voice came from behind you. You didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Sweet Pea. Now that he didn’t have Josie to focus on, his attention had been on you again. Love notes, flowers, trying to sit next to you in class. You had told him to fuck off so many times, it might as well have become your catchphrase. But there he was, always there, right out of the corner of your eye, listening to everything that you were saying. “I’ve known you forever and you never took me there.”

“Guess you just weren’t special enough,” You said with a shrug. You got to your feet, shoved your notes back into your pocket and smiled rarely at Reggie. “Come on, walk to me class.”

“Yes ma’am,” Reggie said with a smirk, getting to his feet. He purposefully pushed past your ex boyfriend as he followed behind you, neither of you looking back. The Serpent wasn’t worth it. That was something you had come to learn and fully believed.

-

You wore the top that your mother had gotten you and sent in the mail. It was plain, but flowy, and didn’t have the leather look that you had come to be known for. All black t-shirts and jackets, comfortable things. But this was a special night - even to the point where you were allowing Reggie to pick you up in his car. This shirt was a dark purple color, not quite black, but still enough to where you felt yourself while wearing it.

There was a honking noise outside the trailer. You still had never let  him come inside. You weren’t ashamed of the little home that you shared with your dad and your brother, but you also didn’t want to see the look of distaste that Reggie would no doubt have on his face.

With a last glimpse in the mirror, strange how feminine you looked today, you left the trailer and walked over to the car that didn’t look like it belonged in this neighborhood at all. It was too nice. And too clean. People were no doubt peeking out their windows to see who were there and who they were there for. With your usual level of confidence, you strode to the car and got inside, only to be greeted by a huge smile and an arm around your hug from Reggie Mantle. “ONE HUNDRED BABY!”

Yes, you had gotten a hundred percent on your test. That was the main reason why you were letting Reggie drive. Because you were so damn excited, that you might try to bribe one of the bartenders to put a shot into your drink. No one really messed with the gay bar, so cops were unlikely to show up. It was hard to ID people when they were dressed as the opposite gender, anyhow. “It’s not that big of a deal,” You said, shrugging his arm off and put on the seatbelt. What an unfamiliar feeling. You spent more time on bikes than you ever did in cars, and those did not come with seatbelts.

“You’re allowed to be happy and excited for things you know,” He said, his smile slightly faltering. “It’s just us. And I’ve seen you happy before.”

“It’s just embarrassing,” You muttered, sinking into the seat. “Having ... feelings.”

Reggie took that as a huge compliment, and it helped to boost his ego. “So you have feelings for me, eh?” He asked with a huge grin.

“Oh stop,” You said, rolling your eyes. “Is it such a surprise that beneath this hard exterior is just soft, pink flesh? I am still human, after all.”

“A bit,” Reggie said with a shrug, focusing his eyes on the row as he tried to find his way out of the trailer park. The streets were thin and like a maze. “You just hide them so well, it’s hard to tell you have any.”

“I wouldn’t be hanging out with you if I didn’t, you dolt.” You sunk into the comfortable leather seats of the car, letting yourself relax now that you were leaving the park. You still had to give him directions to the gay bar, but he was getting the hang of the journey. “People just suck. They break down your walls, just to hurt you so you have to build them back up and stronger. I don’t like being vulnerable.”

“People are assholes,” Reggie agreed, thinking of his on again off again thing with Veronica. He hadn’t thought much about it since you had come into his life, actually.

Rather than get into more conversations about emotions, you turned up the music and rolled down the window, sticking your head out. “Fuck standardized testing!” You yelled out as you drove past the school. Reggie laughed at that, wondering how you could go from steady as a rock to being this free and liberated within a matter of seconds. He’d never met anyone like you before. Never met anyone who truly did not give a fuck about what other people thought of them.

The bar was busy tonight. Friday nights usually were, but there wasn’t a single person there who you recognized from Riverdale. It would be hard for any of them to get in, considering you and Reggie were the only ones that were allowed in under age. Only when you weren’t around the judgmental looks of your peers did you really feel like you could be yourself. You didn’t care what other people said, it was just the fact that they were saying anything that bothered you.

You ordered more of the virgin cocktails that you liked so much, so syrupy sweet. You drained the first one quickly, and felt the sugar remaining in your system. “Dance with me,” You said to Reggie, holding your hand out to him. And he did. He came out onto the dance floor with you and the dressed up Queens and made sure that you had a damn good time.

So good a time that you didn’t notice that there was a familiar face in the crowd. And hand that was connected to the body that was connected to that face had his phone out and was recording video.

-

“Did you hear that they go to gay bars together?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if y/n was a lesbian. I wouldn’t want to date a guy again if he did what Sweet Pea did-”

“Reggie’s dad is going to kill him.”

“A hidden drag Queen?”

The words followed you and Reggie around the next morning as you met at your locker and he walked you to your class, just as he always did. His jaw was clenched, a vein popping in his forehead. You understood his anger - his dad would really would get pissed off about this sort of thing. You had heard the rumors. And you had seen the bruises that Reggie refused to talk about, but you never pushed the issue.

It was pushing at your own anger issues as well. You didn’t like this sort of attention - why the hell couldn’t Cheryl do something daring to get the attention onto her, the way she liked it? Burn down her house again or something. You’d give her all your money to do that at this point.

The most amazing thing though, was despite all of these looks and the rumors and the jokes, Reggie stood by your side. He picked you up from your first class, and took you to your second. And then he picked you up from there and took you to lunch. His shoulders were more tense than they usually were, and he had started to grind his teeth. Something would have to be done before both of you exploded.

Everyones eyes were on you when you stepped into the cafeteria. Even your brother’s, though they looked hurt - you never even told him about your special place. Sweet Pea, sitting beside Jughead, looked pissed. You stopped before you got in line, and Reggie bumped into you from behind. You turned around to face him, looking up into his dark eyes. You were always astounded by the sharp jawline that he had, and those cheekbones - he was a fuckin’ hunk.

“I’m bisexual, not a lesbian,” You said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Not that it’s anyone’s fucking business. And if you’re that damn concerned about Reggie, well...”

You had to stand on your tiptoes because he was so tall. You leaned against him, pressing his chest against yours, using him to steady yourself. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him in for a kiss that should ease any doubt in anyone’s mind.

There was a pounding sound on the edge of the room that made you startle yourself out of the bliss that Reggie’s lips had blossomed in you. Expecting it to be a teacher, you turned around, only to see Sweet Pea was raging his way towards you, the chair that he was sitting in pushed to the ground. You turned around, straightening your shoulders, ready to get into a fight with your ex-boyfriend if this was how it was going to end up. You weren’t about to let Reggie defend you, that’s not the sort of girl that you were.

“You don’t deserve her, Mantle,” Sweet Pea sneered, his nostrils flaring.

“Neither did you,” Reggie said in return. He put his arm around your waist, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Get over yourself, Sweet Pea,” You said, not liking the way that they were talking as if you weren’t even there. “So what, Kevin Keller takes a video of us dancing and that, for some reason, is all of your business? I’ll be the first to admit that we aren’t as interesting as you seem to think that we are. You really want something to focus on in that video? Learn some style from those Queens, you boring peasants.”

Reggie laughed for the first time that day at your comments. You leaned back against his chest, motioning for him to back up. “Let’s go to Pop’s,” He suggested.

“Anywhere that’s not here,” You said, exchanging his arm for his hand, holding it tight as you left the cafeteria, leaving even more gossip behind you but at least it was about the kiss rather than rumors of you both being gay.

Fuck the high school rumor mill.

[gumnut-logic]

“Hey, you comin’ over to Lila’s tonight? I’ve wrangled an invite and I know you’ve got a thing for her. Could be the night.”

Scott threw a leg over his motorcycle and unhooked his gloves from his belt. “I don’t know, Pete. Dad’s out tonight and I’m supposed to be looking after my brothers.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No.”

“Can’t you ask Virgil? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, man. Don’t sacrifice your love life for the brats.”

His fingers stretched out the gloves. “Pete, those are my brothers you’re talking about. Don’t make me kick your ass.” He didn’t bother to look at his friend. He knew Pete didn’t mean it, but there were times where he just did not understand. He shoved his key into the bike’s ignition and she came to life with a roar. “And no, Virgil has his own thing. This is my call.”

“But what about your thing?” Pete had to yell over the idle of the engine. “Lila seemed very interested.” An exasperated sound. “You’re not your brothers’ parent. What about your grandmother?”

He unhooked the bike stand and let his legs take the sway. “You’re stepping on forbidden ground, man. You watch what you say about my family.”

Pete stepped back, both hands shooting up defensively. “Okay, okay. I’m just trying to look out for you, bro. Don’t want you wasting your life stuck at home.”

Scott glared. The throb of the bike beneath him was almost an encouragement to the anger welling up inside. He let his hands drop to the handlebars. “They’re my family.”

He didn’t bother to explain further. A hand took the throttle and a foot the brake. A flick of the clutch and he tore away, leaving Pete in his dust.

-o-o-o-

It was probably an overreaction on his part and as his bike tore out onto the highway, he figured he would probably have to speak to Pete and smooth things over. He meant well.

He just didn’t understand.

Perhaps worrying about four younger brothers wasn’t usually the thing for a twenty-three-year-old. Hell, according to societal norms, he should be hunting down a partner, focussing on his career and looking for his own digs.

He had kind of done that with the Air Force. It took him away from his family, sent him across the planet to experience new things.

But that only made family more special. Was it wrong to miss his brothers?

Perhaps his circumstances were a little different from the norm. When they lost their mother seven years ago, Scott had been about to graduate high school. With Virgil traumatised – hell, all of them traumatised – Allie still in diapers and Dad…he couldn’t blame Dad, but it still didn’t negate the fact that his father had gone missing for over a year, disappearing into his work….there had been bonds built.

He valued those bonds. He valued being there the day Alan took his first steps, the day Gordon won his first trophy. He wasn’t a parent, but he was a big brother and as long as he drew breath, he would watch out for his siblings.

For his family.

If that made him odd in society’s eyes, screw society.

The bike’s engine dropped revs as he slowed and turned onto the dirt road that led to the farm. He loved the dirt and if he broke the safety limit just a little on acceleration, there was no one else on the track to care. The trail of dust the bike kicked up behind him was satisfying in its own way, even if his pants ended up coated in it.

The farm eventually emerged from its cluster of windbreak trees, an island amongst the fields. Turning into the drive, you would never have known it was the home of a billionaire. It looked the same as it always had. Neat, tidy, a little worn around the edges, but Joe from the local builders was due next Monday to fix the gutters again and touch up the paint.

It was home. A quiet place for his family to grow.

And he was going to miss it.

A sigh as he pulled the bike to a halt not far from the front door. He killed the engine and secured it. Climbing off the bike proved that yes, he did have half the dirt road on his pants and he took the next few moments to brush it off into the petunia bed.

Petunias? When had Kyrano planted petunias?

Thoughts regarding their security officer ‘come gardener accompanied him inside.

“Scotty!” A lightning fast ball of blond energy barrelled into him the moment he walked through the door. “You’re home!”

He caught his eight-year-old brother in a hug that lifted him off the ground and spun him around. The briefest of thoughts as to what Pete would think if he knew how much joy swelled in his heart each time Alan greeted him like this.

It gave him purpose.

“Heya, squirt.” He let his little brother down with a last squeeze. “How was school today?”

That prompted a grumpy expression. “Boring. Ms Jennings said I couldn’t write about rockets and had to write about worms in science. Worms are boring.”

Scott held back a snort. It was a familiar theme.

“They have their importance, Allie.”

“That’s what Virgil said. Then he blabbed about ecosystems and recycling...all boring!” Yes, that was a pout. A definite pout.

Scott folded down beside his brother and lowered his voice. “Would it help if I told you a secret?”

Of course, this immediately drew Alan’s attention. Secrets in this household were powerful things. “Yes!”

“Promise to keep it?”

Alan nodded. “Rescue scouts’ honour.”

“Okay...would it help if I told you that Dad is developing a rocket fuel that is made by worms?”

Alan frowned at him. “Worms make rocket fuel?”

“Yep.”

“Really? How?”

“Now that is a secret even I don’t have. You’ll have to speak to Brains about that.”

That caused a whine. “But Brains is on the Island. And he speaks gobblety-gook.”

“Then you’ll have to be patient and listen to Ms Jennings long enough to know enough to understand what Brains is saying.”

Blue eyes pierced him, suspicion at his tactics. “Really?”

Scott smiled just a little before hugging his brother again. “Really.”

He was still eyeing his brother suspiciously, but appeared willing to take it on board.

Scott had to hold back a grin. Perhaps, one day in the far future Alan might turn to him and call him on his bullshit, but that wasn’t today. And it wasn’t totally bullshit. Virgil had mentioned composting and renewable resources as part of the fuel making process.

There were worms in compost, weren’t there?

Still under eight-year-old scrutiny, Scott stood up. “So where is everyone?”

“Virgil’s in the living room hogging the ‘projector. Gordon’s in his room and Grandma says he can’t come out until he says sorry to Virgil.”

Great. “What did he do?”

“Messed with Virgil’s stuff. Virgil got really angry and there was yelling. Grandma got angry, too.”

Fantastic. “Where’s Grandma now?”

“Out the back. She has all her stuff packed.” And that was definitely a sour face. “Does she have to go?”

“Grandma has the right to do her own things, Allie. She does a lot for us already.”

“But I’m going to miss her.”

“It’s only for the weekend.”

“Why can’t we go with her?”

“Do you really want to go to a medical conference?”

“Nooo.” The logic cranking through his brother’s head was almost visible. “But we could go to Disneyland! That’s in California, too!”

“You’ve already been to Disneyland and you have school.”

“School’s boring.”

And they were back to square one. “Okay, squirt.” He ruffled his brother’s hair. “If you eat your dinner and help Grandma with the loading the dishes...without complaint...” Yes, there was the pout. “And you have your bath...without complaint...we can do some stuff before bed.”

His little brother’s eyes lit up like the stars he would no doubt be chasing one day. “Can we do rockets?”

“Maybe. If the weather holds.”

“Yes!” Alan actually jumped and fist-punched the air before running off down the corridor. “Virgil! Scotty says we can do rockets after dinner!”

Scott grinned after him. He shucked off his jacket and hung it on the hall stand. A brief thought of Pete and the possibilities with Lila. Sure, he was interested in Lila. She was gorgeous and smart with a beautiful smile.

But this?

Pete did not know what he was talking about.

-o-o-o-