#sometimes I would check the eyes in the back of Mom's head and then run to Grandma's

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

We probably did meet at Walmart years ago

Not officially but enough for a couple kids to share a few grins in the toy aisle

[eomayas]

distracted • hjs

pairing: husband&dad!joshua, wife&mom!reader, established relationship

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!! fluff, parent au, non-idol au

synopsis: reader is literally just feral for joshua

warnings: pwp, p in v, oral (m receiving), riding, praise, dirty talk, soft!dom!josh, breeding, josh calls reader a ‘slut’ (lovingly) once, reader & josh are parents, reader losing her mind over josh mainly. JOSHUA ARMS. unedited ;)))

a/n: i’ve experienced extreme joshua brainrot lately then did an extreme deep dive of jarms (joshua arms) until 2 in the morning. i am unwell and need him like a fish needs water

joshua pushes the shopping cart that holds groceries, and your daughter in the front of the basket, down the aisle. you trail a step or two behind them, mind a bit foggy and… distracted. you don’t know what it is, he’s just wearing a plain, white tshirt and blue jeans—he’s worn it before—and you’re running errands together like you always do. but today is different, and you can’t seem to comprehend a single thing going on around you, or really look at your husband without feeling mild insanity.

first, you’d wandered into the store in a daze, forgetting that joshua was grabbing the shopping cart with your daughter, after having sat in the front seat watching him drive for twenty minutes. his hand sat steady at ten and two, ever the safe driver when your daughter was present, though at stop lights he would sometimes grab your hand or settle his palm on your leg. you felt lost since the morning, woke up with your mind cloudy and your brain foggy just at the mere sight of him.

then, you couldn’t remember a single thing on your grocery list. in your clouded state, you must’ve forgotten the list in the kitchen; it wasn’t a big deal, except for the fact that you literally couldn’t think about a single thing that you needed to buy, and you are usually the one leading the pack around the store. so the three of you have been wandering around the grocery store for longer than you want to be, circling back to the same aisles you’ve already been on because you can’t remember what it is you need to buy.

now you’re back in the dairy aisle, unsure of why you’re back because youve already grabbed milk and cream cheese, so you’re just standing in front of the cold, double doors without a single thought in your head. “yogurt, maybe?” joshua tries, pausing his conversation with your child to help you out. you blink once, twice before mumbling out a ‘right’ and pulling the doors open and grabbing a container.

“mommy, that’s not the right one!” your daughter whines when you drop it in the basket. she’s frowning at you, eyebrows crinkled the same way joshua’s do. god. you make the mistake of looking up at him, and your entire body flushes you meet his gaze. his eyes are soft but questioning, asking if you if you’re alright without actually saying it. no, i’m not, you think to yourself, discreetly sweeping your hand up your neck to check your pulse. it’s fast, and you’re definitely still alive.

joshua watches you with mild concern; he’s noticed your strange, avoidant behavior since this morning when he got back from the gym. you had looked almost surprised when he walked into your bedroom, like you weren’t expecting him back. your eyes widened, and your lips parted like you were going to say something but nothing came out. he beat you to words, anyway, giving you a soft ‘good morning’ that made you blush—he’d ignored it because you seemed… off—and kissed you on the lips. he thought he really smelled with the way you rushed your lips off of his and rolled out of bed, nearly tripping over your own feet. joshua grabbed you so you wouldn’t fall, and he felt you tense in his hold, a frown etching on his features. he brushed it off and asked if you wanted to shower with him, expecting a ‘yes’ from the look that flashed through your eyes, but you instead mumbled something about having to make breakfast before hurrying out of the bedroom all together. you basically avoided him all day since then, never really looking at him or talking to him directly—none of which you do on a constant basis.

the yogurt was, in fact, incorrect down to the brand and flavor. “i’m sorry, baby,” you say to your daughter, running a hand over her hair before grabbing the yogurt to swap it out for the correct one, this time taking a few seconds to scan everything in the fridge. you appreciate the cold air from the refrigerator, as it cools you down from the rush of heat you feel along your face and neck. you take a breath and tell yourself to get a fucking grip before dropping the correct item into the cart.

“daddy, can i get ice cream?” your daughter asks joshua as you start ambling through the grocery store. you cut your eyes at your daughter for not asking you, but you know it’s because joshua never says no to her.

“of course, princess,” and you watch with pure adoration as he places a kiss on her forehead and she just giggles, scrunching her shoulders up to her ears. joshua is a good husband, but he’s an even better father, and you love watching him interact with your daughter. they have a special connection that you love to witness, a secret language just between the two of them. it’s moment like this where you want another kid—or maybe it’s part of the hazy mess you’re in because of his sheer existence.

you follow behind joshua towards the ice cream aisle. the shirt he wears is tight on him, straining against his biceps and shoulders. you can make out his back muscles depending on how the light hits the fabric, and you feel even crazier than before. his muscles have been the source of your you distracted state today. joshua has always been muscular, and he’s always worked out, but something about him recently has flipped a switch in your brain that has made you feel absolutely feral every time you catch a mere glimpse of his arms—which is quite literally every day. this morning it was too overwhelming, him coming home and shedding his jacket to reveal himself in a simple black tank top that looked a size too small, and gray sweats that made you feel like you needed to go to confessional.

another rush of cold air pulls you out of your lustful daze and you stand at the back of the shopping cart as joshua shuffles through the cartons of ice cream, asking your daughter her input. you try to keep your eyes focused on your daughter, anything else, but cant help when they drift over to your husband, his arms flexing each time he grabs a pint and displays it to your daughter. joshua casts a glance at you, a smile that says can you believe this? when you daughter shakes her head for the fourth time, despite not asking to look for herself. you blush under his gaze, heat spreading down your neck and chest before settling in your stomach.

"i thought you liked the oreo one?" you say to your daughter, voice slightly hoarse. you smooth a hand over her hair to give yourself something to do, hands a little clammy from all of your nerves working overtime.

"i do..." she trails off, turning to look at you with a tiny pout on her lips.

"tell daddy before he freezes," you say, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. just the mere reference to joshua feels heavy in your mouth, makes your stomach flutter for reasons you can't really explain.

joshua places the pint of oreo ice cream into the cart, circling around to the front and playfully ticking your daughter under her chin. she giggles loudly and you smile as you watch her become a spitting image of her father. arms cage you between the carts handlebar and a firm chest, and suddenly your eyes are no longer on your kid but on the strong, veiny forearms that belong to your husband. “excuse me,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt to his voice like he knows that you’re losing your mind at the simple sight of him.

wordlessly, you gently grab his right arm to remove yourself from his entrapment. “hey,” joshua says softly, reaching out for your wrist as you move swiftly to get away from him. turning, goosebumps arise on your skin, and you tell yourself that it’s because his hands are ice cold. “you okay, honey?” your stomach flips and you press your lips into a small smile, nodding.

joshua stares at you for a beat before leaning down a few inches, silently begging for a kiss. you nearly combust at the thought, not trustworthy of yourself to behave normally in public. but his eyes are fond, and you love him so much and want him so bad that you raise up on your toes and brace yourself on his shoulders before delivering a soft, quick peck to his lips. you’re proud of yourself for holding back, but joshua isn’t satisfied because he stays leaned over in the spot you kissed him in for a few seconds after the fact that you’ve pulled away. if you were at home, he’d yank you back to him but because you’re in public he files that grievance away and straightens up.

“i want a kiss,” your daughter pouts, cutely crossing her arms over her chest. since she doesn’t specify from whom, both of you lean in and press kisses to her cheeks. her giggle ripples through you, filling your stomach with butterflies and your chest with a type of love reserved only for her. you’re momentarily pulled away from your joshua shaped daze, until his hand is settling on your lower back. it chilling, his touch, and it’s not because his hands are ice cold from standing in the grocery store freezer for two minutes.

a shiver runs up your spine and you slip out of his grasp, not paying attention to where or what you’re walking into until joshua is pulling you back into him, his hand splayed across your stomach and your back colliding with his chest. “babe, watch out,” a woman pushing a cart stops short, a look of remorse on her face.

“oh my god, did i hit you?” she asks, and you figure you must look injured or something, because she looks genuinely concerned for your wellbeing. the flush on your face is not due to the fact that you were almost ran over, but because joshua hasn’t moved his hand from your stomach and hasn’t put any distance between your back and his front. he stays pressed against you, holding you firmly in front of him, his hold tightening ever so slightly.

“n-no, i’m alright,” you manage, lips tingling. “i swear.” you add when her eyebrows don’t drop from her hairline. at that, she seems to believe you enough snd offers you a smile and a curt nod before hurrying down the aisle.

“are you alright, honey? you’re trembling,” joshua says, his deep voice like melted wax running down your back. you make the mistake of looking up and over your shoulder at him, his palm pressing into your lower belly.

he peers down at you with soft eyes, ready to question you again until your tongue darts out to wet your lips before you tuck your bottom lip under your top one and nod. he knows the look in your eyes all too well—hunger, but not for food—and heat pools in his chest. joshua is much better at hiding his desire for you, especially in public and in front of your child, and he’s able to keep his expression the same, pretending he never saw that look in your eye. “i’m fine,” you’re shuffling away from him again, this time checking to make sure you’re not seconds away from being ran over with a shopping cart.

somehow, you three mange to finish your shopping trip without anymore mishaps. it requires circling back to the same aisles more than once because neither you nor josh can remember what you wanted to buy, but at least you can say you’re done. joshua loads the groceries into the trunk while you buckle your daughter into the backseat. she yawns, stretching her little arms up and out. “sleepy?” you ask her, a small smile on your face.

“no,” she says, vehemently shaking her head. you chuckle hum a sound of disbelief before dropping a kiss on her forehead and going to the front seat. the trunk closes and you suck in a breath as you watch him in the rearview mirror. he brushes his hand through his hair, and even through the mirror and the tint of the trunk window, you can make out his bicep muscle flexing with the motion.

it’s nearly pathetic how horny you feel just looking at him—like an overgrown teenager who just got into their first relationship. except you’re an adult, married to this man, and this behavior is no longer considered ‘cute’.

joshua gets into the front seat and smiles at you, leaning over the console to give you a kiss. his hand rests on the side of your neck, and you wonder if he’s trying to check your pulse, to mess with you. you keep your hands to yourself, because if you touch him, you might never stop.

pulling back from your mouth, he looks into your eyes before flicking them back down to your lips. joshua starts to lean in but seems to remember you’re not alone, and sits back in his seat, his hand lingering on your neck for a moment before he starts the car and asks your daughter if she’s ready to go.

the car ride is quiet, save for your daughters yawns and insistence that she is not tired. she makes most of the noise, talking about random things that you and joshua entertain with ease. he watches her in the review mirror with real, unconditional love in his eyes. it does nothing to help your situation, and just makes you want to give him another baby.

when you arrive back at your house, you quickly get out of the car, grateful to get out of the stuffy, suffocating feeling of being in the front seat. you walk around the back and help your daughter out, ready to carry her inside until she exclaims, “i want to help!”

you ser her down on the ground and she runs over to joshua. you watch him give her two of the lighter bags of groceries, and raises her arms to show you, a big smile on her face. you smile back and press in the garage code and tell her to go inside of the house, seemingly leaving you and joshua alone. you sidle up next to him, and joshua lightly bumps his hip into yours. “hmm?” you question without looking up from the numerous bags in the back of the car.

“why are you avoiding me?” he asks, and the directness makes your hands clam up.

“i’m not avoiding you,” you say, taking a few grocery bags and backing up from him.

“you quite literally are.”

you stare up at him, his eyebrows knitted together in slight irritation. “i still love you, if that’s what you’re asking,” you clarify. his features soften and his shoulders relax a bit. those shoulders. your eyes drifts down his figure, lingering on his flexed forearms, veins bulging out from the tension of carrying the grocery bags.

joshua watches you obviously ogle and check him out, his entire figure relaxing at his realization. “oh, i get it now,” he teases, a slow smirk sliding across his lips.

“get what?” you play dumb, taking a tentative step backwards before turning around and trying to keep your walk casual as you walk through the garage. it’s so obvious you’re trying to keep space between the two of you, putting anything in the way to keep you off of him.

“that you wan-“ joshua cuts himself off because you push open the door that leads you into the house. he clears his throat and closes the garage door before following behind you into the kitchen. your daughter is standing on her tippy toes trying to reach a cupboard that’s way to high for her, concentration etched on her face. “need help, bub?” he asks, setting his bags down on the counter.

“i can’t reach,” she whines, yawning immediately after. joshua lifts her up into his arms and opens the cupboard for her abd allows her to put the item away. “i’m tired, daddy.” she rests her head on his shoulder, tiny arms encircling around his neck.

you watch them and you feel your heart grow three times in size, like the grinch. joshua coos at her and pats her head before agreeing to put her down for a nap. you busy yourself with unloading the groceries, stomach flipping at the thought of having at least an hour alone with your husband. you can’t believe how depraved you feel.

joshua comes back downstairs a few minutes later, right when you’re putting the last thing into the fridge. “you finished?” he asks. you nod, heart hammering in your chest as he walks over to you. his hands drop onto your hips, pulling you flush against him. you keep your eyes straight ahead, leveled wirh his chest, and joshua dips his head down to meet your eyes. “see: you’re avoiding me.”

hear creeps up your neck and you shake your head. “i’m not.”

“don’t try to gaslight me,” he teases, making you roll your eyes and finally look up at him. “there she is.” he murmurs, leaning down a few centimeters to connect your lips. your hands flatten against his chest, and he walks your backwards into one of the kitchen counters. joshua leans over you, trying to press you flat against the surface despite the lack of space.

“shua,” you breathe once you pull away when he unbuttons your jeans.

“what, you’ve got somewhere better to be?” he asks, arching one of his eyebrows.

“i… i have to do laundry…” you say halfheartedly. joshua laughs at this, dropping his forehead against yours. “i’m serious!” you say, but you’re smiling too. “i want to go back to avoiding you.”

joshua pulls back to look down at you, making a face that says for what? “i thought you wanted me to fuck you?”

“yeah, i’m afraid nothing will keep me off of you if we start,” you say honestly. joshua blushes deeply, a boyish grin on his face. “i want you so bad—i think i might be ovulating? i don’t know. i just want you so. bad.” you punctuate the last part with the press of your knuckles into his chest.

“you’re ovulating?” it’s like bells went off in his head.

“maybe, i don’t know. i don’t keep track of that shit. i just need an explanation for how i feel,” you say, hands sliding along his chest absentmindedly.

joshua raises both of his eyebrows at you, fake shock on his face. “maybe because you have a super hot and sexy husband who is also a really good father? just a hunch.”

“no, i don’t think that’s it,” he rolls his eyes at you and you giggle, balling his shirt up into your fists and pulling him down to you. joshua grips onto the counter to steady himself, his hold tight enough to turn his knuckles white. he presses his pelvis into yours, his his erection pressing against your leg.

joshua wraps an arm around you and splays his hand across the small of your back. he presses you down onto the counter and you grip his shoulders tightly, craning your mouth away from his to breathe out, “not here.” he pulls you up from the counter and looks down at you, his chest moving up and down quickly. you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he thinks about a place to fuck you that won’t bring attention to the two of you. “laund-ah!” he swoops you up into his arms easily, already carrying you in the direction of your laundry room before you can even get the entire word out.

you wrap your legs around his waist as you buzz with need and anticipation. you let yourself revel at being carried by him after lusting over his arms all day. he carries you like you’re weightless, with his his hands resting under your ass for support. “god,” you whisper to yourself, pressing a kiss into his neck.

“i love you,” he rasps as he enters the laundry room. he shuts and locks the door behind him before dropping you onto the washing machine. his hands are flying to undo the buttons of your blouse and you pull him closer using your ankles that are still wrapped around him.

“love you more,” you murmur, helping him with removing your top. “your turn.” your urge, pulling the hem of his shirt.

“sure you can handle it?” he teases. you flush and lightly push at his abdomen. “don’t wanna make you pass out or anything.” he smirks at you, loving to watch you squirm.

“i can handle it,” you say, feeling so embarrassed to even be in this position. luckily, joshua is sweet to you above all and draws you in for a kiss. you skate your hands up underneath his shirt, nails lightly scratching against his torso. “take it off.” you mumble against his lips, hands pushing up the material of his shirt. you feel like you could rip him out of the fabric.

joshua pulls back and makes an entire show of getting undressed. he runs a hand through his hair and purposefully flexes his bicep as he does so. if this was any other time, you’d roll your eyes and call him annoying. but today, all you can do is watch and try not to drool.

he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it into an empty laundry basket nearby. you waste no time leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. you move to kiss his jaw and then his neck, your hands sliding down his body. you kiss across his chest, going lower until the position becomes uncomfortable. lightly shoving him, you hop off of the washing machine and drop to your knees in front of him.

joshua watches you with dark eyes, holding onto the edge of the machine. you fumble with his belt, hands shaking with anticipation of finally having him, and he makes no effort to help you out. your hands work too fast, and you mess up when you try to pull the buckle open for the second time. “i’ve got all day,” he say smugly. you ignore him, and finally pull his belt free. you work his pants down to his ankles, leaving. him in just his briefs. you let out a breath and look up at him with pure lust. “as pretty as you look right now, you’d look much better with my cock in your mouth.”

quickly, you pull his underwear down and let them pool together with his pants, hands flying to grab ahold of his member. you pump him a few times, flicking your eyes to look up at him. joshua gives you a slight nod, signaling you to start sucking, and you eagerly oblige. sticking your tongue out, you lick up the precum that dribbles out of the tip before you wrap your lips around the head and push him into your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you go. a groan escapes joshua’s mouth and he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you drag him into your mouth inch by inch, your eyes never once leaving his. his chest heaves up and down, moving faster and faster the closer you get to taking him all the way. tears prick in your eyes when he hits the back of your throat, but you keep going until your nose nearly presses into his hips. “shit,” he whispers, leaning more of his weight into the washing machine.

you bob your head up and down, pulling back and stroking what doesn’t fit. you swirl your tongue around the tip, cheeks hollowing to create more suction when you suck on the tip. joshua moans lowly above you and tells you how good you’re doing. his eyes flutter shut, squeezed shut in pleasure and his chin drops down to his mouth. you want his eyes on you, want him to watch you as you make him feel good, so you purposefully scrape your teach against his dick to get his attention.

his eyes fly open as he jerks back from you, glaring at you when you smile around him. “brat,” he spits and tightens his grip on your hair. you sigh through your nose and press your thighs together, cunt throbbing with need. you keep bobbing your head, speeding up slightly and taking more of him into your mouth. when joshua presses your head down, you relax your throat and let him take control, hands moving to hold onto his thighs. “good girl.” he grunts, holding your head down on his dick for a few seconds until you gag, and then he pulls you off of him.

he does this a few more times, his cock twitching against your tongue. tears gather in your eyes but you power through, determined to make him cum. he pulls you down onto him, cursing each time he hits the back of your throat. “fuck, you take me so well. i’m c-close,” tears slip down your cheeks and mix in with the spit and cum. your face is a mess, but neither of you care.

joshua fucks his cock into your mouth, holding your head steady in his hands. you dig your nails his thighs to combat the ache in your jaw. he thrusts into your mouth until he can’t take the feeling of your warm mouth around him anymore, his cum shooting into the back of your throat. you keep your mouth open to catch all of his seed, some of it gathering around the corner of your lips. “s-swallow,” he demands when he pulls his cock away from your mouth.

you obediently swallow, and he whines in the back of his throat. “goddamn, i love you,” he holds his hands out to you and helps you up onto his feet. he wipes the corners of you lips with his thumb and shoves it into your mouth, lips parting when you suck on his thumb like you just did his cock. “youre such a slut.” he murmurs, a loving gaze in his eyes.

a trail of saliva connects your lips to his thumb when you pull it out of your mouth. “promise?” you ask.

joshua smiles and pulls you into a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. his hands make use of unbuttoning your jeans and shoving his hands down your pants. your panties are damp, and he’s a bit shocked and honored that you’re this wet for him. “i need you,” you whine, peppering kisses down his neck. you don’t even want his fingers, just want him inside of you.

“i know,” he rasps, slipping a finger between your folds. you shudder when he touches you, his finger playing with your arousal and brushing over your clit, just to make you jump. you clench around nothing, and it’s nearly painful how turned on you are.

“joshua!” you whine, nipping at his neck. his hand immediately grabs onto your hair and yanks, a hiss emitting from your lips followed by a smirk.

“needy brat,” he grumbles, walking the two of you over to the work bench in the room. he drops onto it and spreads his legs invitingly. you quickly step out of your jeans and underwear, his eyes roaming over your body. “you’re a beautiful, y/n.”joshua says sincerely; at the end of the day, he is simply a lover boy.

you smile at him and quickly drop yourself onto his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck. you reach between the two of you and position yourself over his cock. his hands grip onto your hips tightly and guide you down onto him, bottom lip drawing in between his teeth.

“ah-fuck!” you cry when you sink onto the tip, the initial stretch rippling through you.

“you’ve got it, baby,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing sift circles into your hips. you bite down on your bottom lip, hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders as you sink lower and lower onto him. “goddamn, girl.” he grunts, hips bucking when you clench around him.

when you manage to take all of him, you sit still and catch your breath, head resting on his shoulder. joshua unhooks your bra and you lean back to slide it off your arms. “you okay?” he asks, hands groping your chest.

“uh huh,” you rasp, taking it as a sign to start fuckign him, licking your lips and raising your hips before dropping onto his lap. “fuck, shua.” whimpers leave you lips as you fuck yourself onto him, using his shoulders as leverage to move yourself up and down. joshua relaxes into the wall, his grip on your hips loosening as you gain momentum and find a rhythm.

“you’re so tight,” he groans, one of his thumbs finding your clit and rubbing slow circles around the sensitive nub. “been thinking about fucking you all day.” joshua sighs and rubs your clit quicker, eyes peering up to watch your facial expressions. “you need me as bad as i needed you?” he mumbles, voice low and husky.

“more,” you pant, still bouncing up and down on him. your cunt clamps around him like it’s trying to keep him there. “shuaaa!” you whine, thighs burning. you sit on his lap, rolling your hips into his.

he chuckles breathlessly, rolling his other thumb over one of your nipples. “yeah? tell me,” he grins at you devilishly, this side of him only coming out in your intimate moments.

“so bad,” you cry, grinding down onto his lap. “w-wanna give you a-another baby.” you squeeze around him involuntarily, a knot forming in your stomach. joshua twitches inside of you at the mention of having another child.

“yeah? want me to fill you up?” you whimper and nod, legs starting to shake. “want me to fuck you full of my cum until you’re pregnant again?” he lets go of you breast to place both hands underneath your ass. he lifts you up and drops you down, a show of his strength as he fucks you up an down onto him.

joshua grumbles filthy things into your ear; tells you that he’s gonna fuck you until you can’t walk, that he’s gonna stuff you full, that’s he’s going to give you another baby tonight. “f-fuck! i-im gonna cum,” you cry, throwing your head back in pleasure. he bucks his hips up into you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly.

spots blur your vision and your cunt spasms around him as you reach your climax. it hits you like a thousand bricks, and you’re shaking in his arm and crying out his name. you expect him to stop, but he keeps thrusting up into you, drawing out your orgasm further. you can hardly think through the waves of pleasure, which is why you hardly register that he’s lifted you up until you’re placed on a cold surface.

joshua drags you to the edge of the washing machine and slams his cock into you, nearly knocking the wind out of you. “o-oh my god,” you gasp, tears brimming in your eyes for the second time tonight. “you feel so good!”

he drives his hips into you brutally, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. “f-fuck, i’m not gonna last,” he groans, dropping his head into your neck. he kisses your skin and lightly bites, though not hard enough to leave marks. you cling to him, arms secured around his shoulders like you may fall if you dont hold on.

his thrusts get sloppier by the second, indicative of his nearing climax. “i love you,” you breathe, nails clawing at his back. he grunts, whining out curses as he cums inside of you, his dick twitching between your walls. he stills, fingers applying bruising pressure to your hips.

after a few moments, he lifts his head from your shoulder and looks at you, a tender smile on his face. he presses his lips to your gently, sighing against you as he goes soft. “shit,” he pants, followed by a light chuckle.

you can’t help but giggle back, running a hand through his hair. he doesn’t want to pull out, not yet at least, wanting to make sure his cum stays inside of you as long as possible. he lets go of your thighs and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you into his chest. you kiss the column of his throat, right on his adam’s apple and rubs soft circles into your back.

“we should clean up,” he murmurs, starting to draw back from you. you make a sound of disagreement and squeeze around him on purpose. “b-brat.” he stammers, curling away from you.

he pulls out of you with a lewd squelch, both of you turning light shades of pink at the noise. he helps you off of the washer and you lean against it. he finds a random towel and comes back to wipe between your legs before cleaning himself off and tossing it in the same basket he threw his shirt in. “i guess i could start a load,” you say, looking at all of the discarded clothes, making joshua laugh.

he helps you gather them up and drop them into the washer. you add in the detergent and slam the top closed. except, when you go to start the washer, joshua places a hand on your back and presses you flat against the washer and slots his knee between your legs to spread them open. you don’t get a chance to prepare yourself because he’s pushing into you again, a strong arm wrapping around your middle to hold you steady as he fucks into you from behind, determined to get you pregnant tonight.

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader

Amends, Simon learns, are harder to make than he thought. 

At first, he tries to catch you in the hallway, or in the lobby of the building. It’s started to get cold, and you’re not out on your balcony much, so he resorts to sulking around like building like a ghost, miserable and downright creepy, waiting. Watching. 

He begins to memorize your routine. It's not intentional, just a hazard of his profession, but he can't help but work everything you do into a schedule that looms at the back of his mind. What time Emma wakes up, what time you usually take her somewhere with you on your lunch, what time the sound of your dryer buzzes to signal it's cycle complete, what time you turn the TV off and the lights go out for bed. Knowing your schedule so well relaxes him, makes him feel reassured, and he waits for every part of it with bated breath, ensuring you're home and safe with each mental check in.

He tries to sync with you, run into you in the hall or outside the building somewhere, but you're elusive, and at night, before he falls asleep, he resorts to daydreaming about a future where he didn't screw everything up, and you already lived with him. Where you shared a bed with him, where Emmaline slept in her room down the hall. Where he has his girls under one roof with him, his roof, safe and tucked away from the rest of world. He can't fall asleep without it now, this daydream, and sometimes, if he's lucky, it stays, gracing his subconscious with beautiful false memories, the kind that linger a little, in the morning when he opens his eyes.

Still, he can't have any of it, dreams or reality, without making amends.

His first real try, after the initial failure, is when he manages to catch you in the lobby. It's right before your lunch is usually over, and he strategically positions himself to enter the building around the same time as you would. Emmaline is in your arms, and when she catches sight of him, she squeaks, swinging a chubby little fist in his direction. You look over your shoulder at whatever has caught her eye, and when you see him, your face twists, smile shifting into something full of apprehension and worry.

“Hi.” You say, when he gets close, inching towards you like you might run off. Emmaline coos, arms stretched out towards his body, and he lets his hand drift, pointer finger finding the grasp of all five hers, wrapped around him.

“Hey.” I miss you, he’s desperate to say, I’m so sorry. But nothing comes out, and something sad stretches across your face when Emma smiles so big at him.

His phone rings, loudly. Johnny. When he looks back up from the screen, you’re gone.

The next time he tries, is in the supermarket.

You’re pushing Emmaline in the buggy, leaning forward to talk to her in the soft little baby voice that you make, and he stops himself at the end of the aisle, just out of sight. You look exhausted, eyes tired, moving slowly, and his heart aches.

“What about some yogurt?” She bobs in the stroller, and you smile. “Yeah! Yogurt! It’s good huh?” You're not paying attention at all, not cognizant of your surroundings, or his proximity to you. If he was someone else, someone who wanted to hurt you, take you... it'd be a non issue. The back door less than ten meters from where your back is turned, someone could have you incapacitated and vanished before you even knew what was happening. His stomach flips uncomfortably just imagining it, anxiety tossing his breakfast around, everything in him screaming at him to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go again.

You turn the corner to his position, still focused on the baby, half paying attention to where you're walking. You manage to glance up once, right before you nearly run into him, and you jerk backwards in confusion, surprise. "Hey."

"Hey, sorry. I uh... wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

"That's alright." He scrounges around in his empty fucking head for something else to say, before landing on: "How are you?"

"Oh, good. Alright, yeah. We're... we're alright."

"That's good." There's a beat of awkward silence, and you chew on your bottom lip for a second.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine." Just do it, he screams at himself. Just say it. "I've been thinkin' about you." Your eyebrows raise.

"You have?" What? Of course I have, sweetheart. You're all I ever think about now.

"Yeah. A lot, actually." He says softly, like you're not standing in the middle of a grocery store, in between the hustle and bustle of everyone else. "I ah... I know this really isn't the place but I wanted to talk to you. It's... I have something I need to tell you. Are you... free tonight? Can I make you dinner?" He practically rushes it out, like water from a spigot, flooding free, too fast and without aim. It's a cautious request, more of a hopeful thing than anything else, and when you take so, so long to respond, he prepares himself for the disappointment.

"Okay." You whisper, with a nod. "Yes. We... we're around tonight."

[jiminiecrickets]

DOUBLE TEAM. JJK / M!READER

summary. vigilantism comes in many flavours. jungkook, you, and your parasite come together like a neapolitan sundae.

wc. 17k

tags. smut | mcu spider-man!jk, venom!reader, loootta plot. top reader, bottom jk, established relationship, college au, bloody violence at one point, basketballer!reader, sex toys, mention of handcuffs (on reader), oral, rimming (jk receiving), multiple orgasms, manhandling, venom takes over sometime so it's basically a threesome, size difference, rough sex, lots of come

note: here, the venom/reader biology is less of a suit and more like they morph between shapes at a molecular level to whatever extent they want (bit of body horror)

"wow, he's so handsome..."

"yeah, did you see his results last semester? i can see why he managed to get that internship so young. crazy."

"internship? i heard he was given a job there. like, actually – not as a coffee-and-clipboard boy. proper stuff."

dappled under the shade of a large oak tree, jungkook fixes the earbuds in his ears, scrawling down a few lines for his chemistry homework. he pauses to close his eyes, head bobbing as he jams quietly along to his music. he pushes his soft bangs back from his eyes, a breeze running its fingers gently through his loose locks.

"god, gorgeous and a genius... d'you think my mom would like him?"

"girl, go tell him your name before you start planning the wedding! he's not with anybody. it's the perfect time!"

a slender girl in a pleated tartan skirt and a cropped black vest top sidles up to the end of the bench. she tucks her hair behind her ear and smiles shyly, tilting down slightly in an effort to maintain discretion. "hi... can i talk to you for a moment?"

jungkook shuts his folder and rises to his feet, dusting off his blue jeans. he tosses his backpack over his shoulder and hurries down the small grassy mound, checking his cracked phone screen for the time. he slips past a girl in a tartan skirt and places his hand on your shoulder.

"hey, yn," he greets. "we still on for tonight's study sesh?"

you beam, brightening at the sight of him. you prop the basketball on your hip under your arm. "hey! yeah, of course. oh, i was thinking of bringing some sausage rolls to do in your oven, a chicken salad for 'dessert' – it's more chicken than salad, though, i gotta admit. you mind?"

"no, 'course not – as long as you share. speaking of, i'm starving." casually, he leans up and drops a kiss on your cheek, cupping your jaw. he begins to move off, walking backwards to give you a pointed look. "remember: my place, five-thirty! be there or be square!"

you roll your eyes, smiling fondly. "yeah, yeah – i love you!"

he turns around, forming a heart with his hands and pursing his lips. he nearly bumps into someone, apologising profusely with animated hands. you scoff and roll your eyes, shifting the basketball in your grip and turning back to the girl.

"sorry about that. what did you want to talk about?"

her face is beet red. "o-oh – um, i-it's okay. nothing. sorry to bother you."

you frown, inspecting her with concern. "are you sure? it's not a bother."

behind you, your teammates holler at you to get back in the game. you toss the ball at one and give them the finger. they 'ooh' back at you, laughing amongst themselves as they dribble the ball between them and take lazy shots at the hoop.

"they're animals. don't worry about them." you smile encouragingly at her.

she shakes her head, long hair swaying around her cheekbones. "n-no, it's okay! um – have a good day!"

before you can get another word in, she scampers off to her gaggle of friends, clutching her bag to her side as they engulf her and begin moving off to the library.

you scratch your head but shrug, turning back to the court. you jog towards the others, and they offer every greeting from 'good trip to venus?' to 'get off the fucking court'. you just huff, punching their shoulders, and catch the ball with a soft thump.

"sorry, sorry. i'll send them your way next time."

after your decidedly unrelaxed game, chasing jungkook into the campus centre's cafeteria is the next priority. you find him alone at a round white table, staring at his phone, held landscape.

you pull out a seat from a neighbouring table and flip it around, straddling it backwards as he takes out one earbud and smiles up at you. you nudge his arm and grin, tilting your head at his phone. "finally tracked down your scent. what're you watching, sweetcheeks?"

"local news." he squeaks his chair closer to yours and unplugs his earbuds from the jack, letting them dangle from the neck of his science pun shirt under a zip-up hoodie. "you know the new guy around these parts? a couple of criminals are saying his name is venom."

"venom? is he?"

"is he what?"

"venomous," you clarify. "he's certainly got the teeth for it."

jungkook snorts, grabbing his bottle of iced tea and balancing his phone against it. "i don't think so. he just scares the crap out of people. heard he used to make snacks out of people, though. metal."

"shame. venom powers would be neat," you reply, crossing your arms over the back of the chair and propping your chin on them. "what's the news talking about?"

"mostly, it's just gossip." he shrugs. "'is venom the new spider-man?' 'are spider-man and venom working together?' they say it's 'cause they share some similarities – methods of movement, areas of control. thoughts?"

you inhale deeply. "well, i can't say much, but i will admit that venom does look pretty damn sick." you point at the video clip the news story plays of a huge black figure loping along the sides of buildings. he grabs a cop cruiser in one clawed fist and hurls it at a supervillain, who currently rots away in the raft. "ooh, shit!"

jungkook scoffs, shoving your shoulder. he grins. "so you only like him because he looks cool? not because of his ideals or worldview or anything? i understand, i like 'em big, but you're being a little reductive."

"i'm just a pretty face. i am completely unable to consider anything deeper than the cool factor." you rake his lean body with your gaze and smirk. "have i told you how good you look today?"

"baby, you can't abuse your boyfriend privileges to get out of this debate," jungkook murmurs, leaning in against your lips with a smile. "what do you think of spider-man?"

"eh. six outta ten."

"six?" jungkook sputters, jerking away. "what? you – but he's totally more than a six! eight, at least! do you realise how much math he has to do on the fly while he's swinging around? and i think he looks pretty cool, y'know. the fact that his ears don't stick out of the mask is pretty high-tech, if you ask me."

"easily recognisable, unique silhouette, cool colours." you list them off on your fingers. "both spider-man and venom fit these categories. venom, however, has the intimidation stat maxed out."

"spider-man is totally intimidating," jungkook protests. "i don't like spiders. what if he has secret spider-controlling powers and can corral them into doing his bidding? that's terrifying."

"sure, if you have a thing against spiders. i will say, though: i like that he deals with petty crime. the avengers aren't gonna bother themselves with purse-snatchers and bike theft."

jungkook hums. "finally – something we can agree on. aliens aren't falling from the sky every day."

you share a smile and jungkook shuts off his phone, leaning closer and placing his arms across your part of the table. your noses touch, and he giggles softly as you capture his lips in a tease of a kiss. he tastes like the white icing of his bakery snack.

"wanna go back to yours early?" you murmur, nosing at his neck. his cologne is faint, light and fresh. he's always been sensitive to smell. "we can go out for dinner instead. or take out – i'm easy."

"yeah, i know you're easy," he teases, nibbling on your lower lip. "one kiss and you're already begging to come home with me."

you gasp, offended. "how dare you! just because i am captain of the basketball team and extremely sexy does not mean i am an expert in mattress brands. apologise."

"mm... no."

"apologise!"

"do you take cash," he rests his palm against the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his, "or card?" he ghosts his palm over the front of your pants.

"oh, you little minx," you growl playfully, grabbing his phone off of the table and him by his wrist. "c'mon. you got your helmet?"

he grins and nods, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. "right here."

"good." as you run out of the cafeteria, dragging your giggling boyfriend after you, you lean in, kissing the apple of his cheek. his skin is warm, flushed and pretty. "i'd fuck you in it if it didn't stop me from kissing you."

he gasps. "come again?"

"oh, you know i will be. now, on the bike – hold tight onto me. no hands in the pants this time."

he blows a raspberry, swinging your hands between your bodies. "buzzkill."

—

with a heavy thump, you drop your bag and jungkook's at the base of his desk. his tiny studio apartment is sparsely decorated, but you've come to view it as a place of simple peace and comfort. he clings to you easily, arms wrapped around your shoulders as you carry him to his king-single bed. it's not large enough to fit both of you side by side, meaning that jungkook tends to stack himself on top of you when he snoozes.

"i'm noticing you like to carry me everywhere these days," jungkook whispers, grinning as he sucks on your neck, bruising the skin.

"mhm," you reply breathily, placing him down on his bed and hovering an inch over his body. he wraps his legs around your thighs and pulls your crotch against his. "i've been working out my core. results are finally showing."

jungkook grins darkly, pushing your dark grey letterman jacket off of your shoulders. you help him, shrugging it off. "really? let me have a look, baby."

you kneel back and tug your shirt over your head, revealing planes of soft warm skin. jungkook moans at the sight, tossing off his own clothes all over his apartment in his hurry. he sits up, wrapping his arms around your middle, and plants kisses up your stomach and chest, leading to a soft peck on the bulb of your throat. it bobs as he tucks his face into the side of your neck, breathing in your scent with a soft hum. he draws back slightly.

"did you change your cologne, honey?" he lowers his face again, a cute furrow between his brows and a thoughtful pout on his lips. "you smell different."

"uh – no, i don't think so," you reply, struggling to keep your head on straight when jungkook's hands are venturing down the front of your pants. "could be a new formula."

"mm, yeah, you're right," he whispers, licking his lips as he grips your bulge a little harder, making your hips jolt into his palm. he grins, eyes twinkling with innocent amusement. "hah. you're cute when you're sensitive."

your cheeks warm at the sound of his smooth, lilting voice, dropped lower than usual. arousal stirs deep in your gut. "shut up..."

he coos, gazing up at you as he rests his chin on your sternum. "unused to compliments, baby?"

"n-no, i'm just... not used to people calling me cute."

jungkook's grin widens and he nibbles on his lower lip as he gropes your hardening length through the thick denim of your jeans, his own straining against the zipper. "big boys like you need more love. can i... give you some love?"

his cheeks tint pink when he says that last part, barely a whisper. he's so flirty, yet so shy, and it's a dichotomy you have yet to figure out. still, it's so endearing watching him blush at his own flirtations.

you nod wordlessly, only finding your voice after a moment or two. "yeah. please."

he giggles and tucks his knees under himself to touch his lips to yours. it's surprisingly chaste despite the way he's feeling up your cock, trying to locate every vein and curve through thick denim.

"i bought something the other day," he begins, stroking your hip as he grinds the heel of his palm into your bulge. "i was wondering if you'd like to try it out with me right now."

"you bought something...?" a dark urge to encircle his tiny waist with both hands and fuck him stupid nearly makes you black out. it fills you up from the centre outwards and rams against your ribs like taking huge lungfuls of air, one after another, without allowing yourself to breathe out.

the pressure vanishes as soon as it comes, simmering instead in the pit of your stomach. you kneel on the bed with shaking hands, reeling inside your mind.

"yeah. something for us to play with." he smiles. "or, something for me to play with and for you to enjoy."

"oh," you exhale, barely a wisp of a breath. "you want me to watch?"

your cock stirs at the idea. he's shown himself off for you before using just his hands, and even that felt thick with sin and filth. you don't know how you'd react if he used something else.

"yeah, but it isn't quite what you're thinking. you always please me and forget about yourself, and i wanted to do the same. it's really self-indulgent for me – i've been imagining this for a while. ah, maybe i should just show it to you instead of trying to be all cryptic and mysterious." he laughs at himself and motions for you to stay put. he swings his legs over the small bed and reaches for his bedside drawer, atop which lies a shoebox-sized black box. he picks it up and places it on the sheets in front of you.

with one hand on the edge of the lid, he lifts his gaze, which flickers nervously over your features. "if it's too much, you can just tell me and we won't ever have to talk about this again."

you shake your head. "it's okay. i just wanna know what it is. i can't stop staring at your lips."

with a chuff of laughter, jungkook licks his lips, a little shy. you've never been one to mince your words, and it's rather soul-baring. he can't help the flutter of his heart when he catches your quick glance down at his lips. "alright, alright... somebody's hungry tonight, isn't he?"

"mm, just for you."

jungkook lifts the box's lid and extracts, with only a second of hesitation, a clear silicone fleshlight.

you always please me and forget about yourself.

i've been imagining this for a while.

"you… want to use that... on me," you say, but it's almost a question with how your voice wavers on the last word.

jungkook nods silently.

"but... what about you?" your eyes widen slightly. "wait – is this because i've been really needy recently? are you tired? i'm sorry, i don't know what's gotten into me lately."

he shakes his head quickly. "no, not at all, baby! you could never tire me out – i think your neediness makes you cuter. yes, you're cute, don't give me that face – we went over this already. i just... want to see it more."

"that's why it's transparent?" you ask, unable to hide your amusement. "you want to look at my dick?"

he blushes all the way down his chest. "it's as good a reason as any! can you kiss me? my face is hot and i need a distraction."

like the good boyfriend you are, you oblige, cupping his cheek and drawing him into a slow, deep kiss, prodding your tongue into his willing mouth. he moans as your tongue slides against his own, soft and wet and hot. he places his hands on top of your thighs, your open jeans hanging low to reveal your apollo's belt cinching your hips. he ghosts his palm over the bulge in your boxers as he sucks lightly on your tongue and your whole body shudders like a ship crashing against rocks – the animal, guttural growl that bubbles from the pit in your stomach rumbles in his skull, ferocious lust nearing fury so intense and primal that for a moment jungkook doesn't think it comes from you. as if on instinct, you wrap your arms around jungkook's torso and yank him towards you, pulling his front against yours.

"f-fuck," jungkook nearly whimpers when he pulls away, lashes fluttering as he stares up at you, dark pupils swallowing his irises. he arches his back. you press the flats of your palms against the bumps of his spine. "i didn't know you could make a sound like that..."

"like what?" you murmur, panting softly as you slide your hands under his jeans over the curve of his ass. you push his pants down hurriedly, sloppier than usual. you just... really can't wait.

he shifts his knees to let you take his blue jeans off, his underwear tangled somewhere in the legs. he tilts his head as you bury your face in his neck and shuffle out of your own pants, leaving you both naked on jungkook's single bed – except for your socks. his bed's barely big enough for one person, and with both of you, you're struggling not to slip off. you'll have to be careful if you roll over.

"like... never mind." he shakes his head, staring down with tangible anticipation at the thick length bobbing between your thighs. he's not small, but fuck, you make him feel that way. "just c'mere, please."

"so polite," you chuckle, watching him squirt a generous amount of lube into the toy.

"only for you, honey," he hums. he holds the toy slightly away from his stomach, as if suddenly unsure what to do with it. his indecision only lasts for a moment before those big brown eyes raise to yours. "lay down. we'll do it this way."

"mm. can't refuse the view you'll give me."

he swings his leg over your lap, smiling shyly as he grips your length in one hand. he tears his gaze from yours to sink the entrance of the sleeve down around your cockhead, teasing the glans. he takes about a third of your cock into the toy, glancing up to gauge your reaction. he finds only pleasure in your expression and, emboldened, moves the toy faster, rolling his wrist the same way he strokes you. the toy squelches as it slides down around the middle of your shaft, lube dribbling down the veins of your dick.

"fuck, that's cold," you whisper, acutely aware of how your cock pulses.

jungkook places a soothing hand on your tense thigh, rubbing what you think is meant to be relaxing circles into your skin – except he does it a little too high, a little too close to your dick, and relaxing's the last thing on your mind.

"it's alright," he hums, "you'll warm it up."

you huff at his nonchalance but lay back down, tucking one hand under your head to help bolster his cloud-soft pillows. you could sink in his pillows, drown in them. your other hand rests on his bare thigh.

"good boy," he says cheekily, fucking your cock with the slick toy. it's knobbly on the inside, and almost too tight – but the pain's pleasurable, especially when he gazes down at you with such loving eyes.

"call me that again and i'll out-brat you," you mumble, hissing softly as he slides the toy all the way down. your throbbing cock leaks, and watching it through the silicone makes your skin flush. evidently, he feels the same, staring at it with such intensity you're not sure whether you should feel afraid or aroused.

you decide on the latter.

"you? a brat? you don't have it in you," he says dismissively, stroking and squeezing your balls. he pulls the toy off and swipes his thumb over your leaking slit, gathering all the precum he can. he brings his thumb to his lips and licks it clean.

god, it's always the quiet ones – always the shy ones. your boyfriend, with his alliterative name and baggy jeans and zip-up hoodies, used to be too nervous to initiate things with you – what if you weren't in the mood? what if you didn't find him attractive? but after the first time, after you worshipped his body and got drunk off his pleasure, you seemed to unlock something in him – something dirty and saccharine.

"what – mm – what do you mean?" you ask breathily, closing your eyes as he returns the toy to your length, the squelching lube and precum dripping down your shaft.

"you're too in love with me and too soft. you couldn't hurt a fly. besides, big boy, i noticed how you tensed up when i told you how good you were being for me. did you learn something about yourself?" he teases.

you shake your head, flushing slightly. "i just... like pleasing you."

jungkook's smile grows softer, less coy. his eyes crinkle as he leans down to kiss you briefly, humming gently. "i like pleasing you, too. you can come when you want – don't hold back for me, m'kay?"

"okay."

fuck... you've never seen a prettier sight than this, the angel on your lap totally focussed on making you feel good. he shuffles down your body until his face is level with your cock, and you give him a little more room to lay down by shifting to sit against the headboard. he smiles up at you gratefully, watching closer as the fleshlight swallows up your thick cock again and again. arousal swirls low in his belly as you groan lowly, head tipping back.

bent at the knee, his feet kick absently behind him, ankles crossed. he takes your balls into his hot, wet mouth, sucking softly at the velvety skin as his wrist twists firmly around your dick. he looks so innocent, but the things he's making you feel certainly aren't.

"you're... you're gonna make me come," you groan softly, "doin' that with your pretty mouth..."

"oh? so soon? are you just exceptionally pent up," he drags his tongue against the veins of your cock, "or are you more into this toy than i am?"

"no, you just – oh, shit – you look so good like that. you're so fuckin' pretty with those eyes, those gorgeous lips that i know're so soft – drives me damn near crazy, jus' wanna fuck you all the time—" you're babbling, you know that, feeling your high creep up on you mercilessly. it's almost embarrassing, you can last longer than this, but something inside you is just so damn hungry, so eager. it draws in your lust to a dark bottomless pit in your stomach, gorged with all the pleasure jungkook's giving you but still greedy for more, more, more.

you reach down and hastily twirl jungkook's hair into a short, messy ponytail. you pull him into you, making him moan and his hips jerk – he sucks on your balls, taking each into his mouth one at a time, pumping your cock until the toy leaks with your precum, dripping with it. he licks it up wantonly, gliding his hot tongue over your veins until the whole thing glistens with saliva and lube.

he pants softly, stroking your cock faster until your whole body aches with the will not to give in – you grip the wooden headboard above you to ground yourself, struggling not to lose to the heat and wetness of jungkook's mouth and touch.

you can't. you're better than this. but god is your mind foggy with lust, feeling him lap at your balls like an overexcited puppy, feeling his toy grip your cock so enthusiastically. you want to feel him around you, feel his heat, his walls, real tight and greedy – want to taste him, lick the sweat off his hips, taste your own come on his lips like some filthy exchange of power, prove to him that you're the only one he wants, the only one who'll take such good care of him—

the dam crumples. your spine arches; the world goes white.

when your eyes flutter open – you swear you didn't close them – jungkook's sitting up, dazed and wearing the heaviest blush you've ever seen on him, red from his chest to his ears. his chest heaves, his breath shaky, and a few smears of what looks suspiciously like come cover his cheeks and neck. he hasn't wiped it off yet.

"b... baby..." jesus, your voice is fried. you clear your throat, rather painfully, and try again. "why're you lookin' at me like that...?"

he doesn't say anything for a moment, those huge doe eyes stuck on you. finally, he tears his gaze away, covering his mouth slightly – a jerky half-move that suggests he doesn't really know what to do with himself.

"um," he says softly, his voice a little unsteady, "th-the... the toy – it broke..."

after a second, you frown, still dopey and cotton-brained. maybe you should've done something in the last two weeks instead of postponing it until you could next get jungkook alone. "what? what do you mean, it... broke?"

he extends it to show you. down the side is a long crack, and the closed end is split open. you don't know what to say – you don't know what anyone would say – but by the way jungkook's looking at you, it's clear he wants something.

"do you think they'd refund us for a faulty product?"

clearly, that's not the right thing to say, because he pouts aggressively.

"you got bigger when you came," he mumbles, sweeping his index finger over his cheek and sticking it in his mouth as he glances up at you. he doesn't know how much that casual motion affects you. "like... real big. i didn't know your voice could get that deep, either. it was... kinda hot..."

you don't... remember talking... "did i say something?"

"mm. you pushed my head down and told me i looked good like that. that i was good to you – to us."

"us?" you repeat, an empty dread dropping in your stomach like a stone. you try to hide your dismay, but jungkook has always been particularly receptive to your emotions. either that, or you're just really easy to read.

"it's okay, why are you afraid? it didn't hurt, if that's what you're worried about. i like it when you're rough."

something in the back of your mind preens at that. you shake your head. "alright – yeah. just – i'm sorry for ruining it. i'll pay you back for it."

"don't worry about it. you paid for our last few dinners, so think of this as my turn to pay." he giggles and flushes, leaning closer and straddling your waist. "besides... i got something out of it, too." he takes your hand and places it on his toned stomach. you have to think past the firm muscle of it to notice that it's warm and sticky. he slides his bottom lip between his teeth to hide his flustered grin. "i really like it when you're rough."

it's enough to make your dick twitch to life again, but part of you is still rattled by how easily you just... gave up control.

"i'm glad you liked it," you say softly, "but i don't want to do that again. i don't want to hurt you."

he scoffs, grinning as he comes to sit beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip in his narrow bed. "you couldn't hurt me if you tried, baby. i'm stronger than i look. but okay – i get it. do you wanna cuddle in bed for a while, catch our breath?"

you hum softly, burying your head in his shoulder. he strokes your hair. "yeah... but maybe after a shower."

he laughs softly, pushing you off the bed towards the bathroom. he splays out on his back to make sure you don't come creeping back into his arms. "what, city boy, can't handle a little mess?"

"of course, hate that shit. i'd live in a lab if i could."

"how scientist of you. i can see why you joined the life foundation – the entire place looks like a hospital, just with more skylights."

"mm, definitely feel like a doctor, scrubbing my arms up to the elbows every day." you pick up a towel from the stack in jungkook's wardrobe.

"sounds fun. maybe i'll join you, scrub your arms for you."

"don't," you say quickly. you clear your throat, wiping the panic from your voice. "you'll ruin your pretty hands working there. all the soap makes even moisturising painful."

he arches a brow, but doesn't say anything. instead, he hums and turns his gaze to the ceiling. "guess i'm stuck with mister stark, then."

"hey, they're doing some cool stuff with prosthetics right now, and you get to fix the avengers' gear. the avengers, man. you shouldn't sound so sad. have you met thor yet?"

"not yet. the guy's a prince – pretty sure he was better things to do than say hello to some puny human."

"ah, well. at least you're doing something – i'm wasting my life away being someone's assistant."

he watches you for a while as you gather new clothes from your drawer in his wardrobe. he rolls onto his side to keep watching you when you move out of his vision.

"are you okay, honey?" he asks quietly, gazing up at you. "are you still upset over the toy? i told you, i don't mind. it was kinda hot, to be honest..."

you glance over your bare shoulder. he bats his eyelashes and winks. you huff. "you think everything i do is hot. i could sit down and you'd drool over my posture or something."

"how'd you know i like the way you sit? you take up so much space. in a good way, of course! i – i wish i had your confidence."

you soften at the very real vulnerability he displays. not just everyone gets to know his thoughts and feelings. you glance at the towel in your hand and back at him – with a soft sigh, you set your clothes aside and return to the bed, smiling as jungkook's face lights up like a star.

"oh, that was easy," he says flirtatiously, stroking his fingers up and down your chest as you lay down next to him on the pillows.

"i'm your boyfriend, i'm trained to do this," you hum, bearing the discomfort of the chilly stickiness for jungkook's soft gaze, trained on you. the playfulness falls from your tone as you reach up and brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. "you're so beautiful, you know that?"

he giggles bashfully and turns his face into your shoulder, shuffling closer to hide his red cheeks. "gosh, what a charmer. did i do something to turn you all mushy?"

you shrug, cuddling him close to your chest. "not particularly. looking at you just makes me really, really happy."

his eyes crinkle as he smiles, leaning up and kissing your throat. "you big sap... i love you, too."

you bury your nose in his soft dark mop of hair and close your eyes. you don't want to think about how small he feels in your arms, your little finely-muscled dancer. you don't want to think about how easily he can take over now, and how fragile jungkook would be if he wrapped his hands around him.

you only let the feisty parasite stick around so you can better protect jungkook. sure, you have to keep it well-fed with brain matter in exchange, but anything's a fine trade if you can keep your darling safe. with all these genocidal aliens and egomaniacal scientists running about, to make sure this one particular civilian doesn't get trapped under a fallen building, you can't count on anyone else except yourself.

—

no matter how many times jungkook gets slammed into concrete, getting mashed through three floors of an office building in lower manhattan will never stop hurting like hell. even his pride is a little bruised – getting so beat up by the scorpion was almost embarrassing. he'd managed to subdue mac gargan – again – but his mind had been elsewhere during the fight, leading to gargan landing more than a few avoidable hits.

he stumbles slightly when he lands on the fire escape with a soft thump. gripping his bleeding side, he pushes his bedroom window up and slips inside, hissing as a broken rib pokes a nerve. he shuts the blinds of his window and pulls off his mask, breathing easier without it.

finding the time to fix his suit is going to be a pain. he has so many assignments due and so little time.

he limps out of his darkened bedroom, bracing against the door frame for support. he flicks on the bathroom light with a sigh and wanders over to the sink, sparing a glance into the mirror.

great: a big ol' bruise on his cheek, little cuts all over. nothing would heal in time for his chem lab the next day.

he peels the suit off his upper half, too sore to even attempt bending down to pull it off his legs. turning in the mirror shows him the massive purple bruise covering his back and shoulders, green around the edges. he makes a face and it hurts.

guess he's sleeping on his stomach tonight. he pulls the mirror forward, opening up the cupboard behind it, and raises himself onto his toes to reach the first-aid kit on the top shelf, right next to your shaving razor and other bathroom essentials. the small green bag is stuffed full to bursting with gauze, antiseptic, and thread, and maybe it was a blessing to live in criminal-infested new york because you never asked why he had so much on hand.

keys jingle. "hey, baby? are you home already?"

shitshitshitfuckshit—

you peek around the bathroom entrance, your hoodie singed around the edges and smelling faintly of rocket fuel. you frown at the opened first aid kit, cotton pads and saline sitting by the sink, and turn briefly to set the groceries down in the kitchen behind you. you enter the bathroom and glance around at only white tile and glass.

you glance up behind the door and jump three feet out of your skin.

"jesus christ—! what the fuck?" you shout.

jungkook motions haggardly, pressing his finger to his lips with wide eyes. he's backed into the corner of the ceiling – what the fuck – wearing the red-and-blue suit of new york's spider-man – what the actual fuck– and looks like he lost a fight to a brick wall.

what. the. shit.

"pleasepleaseplease don't scream," he whisper-shouts. "sh-shh-shh – let's be normal about this!"

"normal?" you hiss, aggression bleeding into your fear. "ex-cuse me?"

"just don't yell! please." he drops down from the ceiling with one hand and you jerk back, the scene in front of you proven real. "you weren't supposed to find out this way."

"weren't supposed to – this way – what?"

he presses on the spider in the centre of his chest and the whole thing loosens like a deflated balloon, hanging off of his bruised arms. "honey, please don't be angry—"

"angry? angry?" you bark out an incredulous laugh. "i'm fucking furious! you're spider-man? my boyfriend is spider-man?"

he swallows harshly, lowering his gaze to stare at his feet. he nods almost imperceptibly.

"spider-man's been around for years. how long have you been doing this? since fifteen, sixteen?"

"four – fourteen..."

silence.

"you're mad," you say flatly. "actually mad. fourt—" you pinch the bridge of your nose. "you know what, instead of getting upset about how young you were when you first went about punching bike thieves for funsies, i'm going to get upset about the fact that you're bleeding all over yourself. what happened to you?"

"it wasn't for fun," he mumbles. "it was a morals thing. and, um, scorpion tried killing the ol' triple-jay, so i had to step in. the police should have him by now."

"the scorpion? well, we'll be seeing you on tonight's news, then. i'll be able to see exactly how he got you so messed up."

he flushes at your accusing tone, rubbing the back of his neck. "i'm sorry, honey. i meant to tell you… i just didn't know how, or when. i was so scared of the wrong people finding out and… and hurting you."

slowly, you release a deep sigh, and with it goes your anger. "the last thing you should be worried about is anyone hurting me. you should be worried about you. is this what you look like after every fight?"

he shakes his head. "it's not usually so bad. he just got some lucky hits in. i heal quickly, anyway."

placing a tentative hand on his cheek, you turn his face this way and that to examine his wounds. your hand shifts to take the point of his chin under your thumb and he stares up at you with such sweet, sorry eyes, brimming with glossy apologies.

"can't you put down the mask?" you almost plead. "let someone else do it. someone who's got more help than you do."

"who, like the avengers? they only really do world-ending threats, and for all gargan's bluster, he's not that."

you cup his neck and gently run your thumb over his jawline, careful of his wounds. "you… you mean so much to me. i love you something crazy," you whisper, voice dropping to a raw, almost tired rasp. he closes his eyes and wraps his arms around you, resting your foreheads together. "i know i'm selfish, but i don't want to lose you."

"i'll always come home," he murmurs. "i promise. for you, nothing could keep me away. someone has to keep greedy people out of your pants."

you can't help but loose a weak chuckle at that. "i'm yours, baby. will you let me patch you up?"

he nods, gripping your shoulder as you help him step out of the suit. he sucks in a breath when he bends too far in a certain way but attempts a smile when you glance up at him.

"don't worry about it. you'll make me right as rain in no time, won't you, doc?"

"you're going to make me grey with worry," you mumble, straightening up and reaching for the cotton pads and antiseptic. those cuts need tending to. you dab the damp cotton pad onto his brow, gently holding his head in place by cupping the nape of his neck. "hold still, baby."

"'m sorry. stings a little."

"how's it going to feel when i get to that massive scrape on your side?"

he winces at the idea. "if you leave it alone, it'll heal by itself…"

"you beggin' me to not touch it? thought you were the amazing spider-man."

"spider-man eats punches and springs back up with a quip. jungkook gets sweaty hands when approaching the cashier. jungkook's a bitch when it comes to pain."

your hand pauses slightly, then presses harder than necessary on his busted lip. he flinches and whines. "you're still you in the suit, sweetheart. if spider-man can take it, so can you."

"thure," he mumbles thickly, the cotton pad obscuring his words. you move onto the tiny cuts caused by flying shards of glass and he braces himself, gripping your forearms tightly. "so… you're not mad anymore…?"

"no, i'm still furious," you reply. "i just want you in one piece before i rip into you."

he has the gall to giggle nervously. "that's a joke, isn't it?"

you glance down at him and he quietens, suitably chastised.

eventually, after taking care of his wounds and sitting him down at the small dinner table to make him a cup of hot chocolate, you speak up. "every time you came home with a black eye or split lip and told me you got mugged on the way home or tripped on the stairs, it was because of spider-man, wasn't it?"

jungkook fiddles with his sweater sleeves. "yeah."

"you lied to me."

he picks at a loose thread and swallows. "yeah…"

"i always wondered how you healed so fast." you set down the steaming mug in front of him and take a seat across from him, watching him cup the mug in both hands and take tiny sips from it. you cross your arms and look away.

that's the last thing you say for a long while. you stare at the table, mouth twitching every so often as if you want to say something but can't find the right words for it.

"i want to go to bed," you say suddenly, rising to your feet as if pulled by puppet strings. "it's been a long day. come… come join me when you're ready."

jungkook nods and his throat bobs, turning his gaze into the swirling whirlpool in the mug. he whispers, "okay, baby. i'll be there."

you nod and take a step backwards, then another, before turning around and heading into jungkook's bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

jungkook stares at the closed door for a while. he can hear you mumbling, then pausing, and mumbling again, but even for his enhanced hearing, it's too quiet for him to discern. he doesn't know if he wants to know at all – it's probably better if he doesn't know what you're thinking.

he sighs softly, swirling the remnants of his not-so-hot chocolate in his mug. at least you don't hate him, which is more than he could have asked for. you're sleeping in his room, too, and that must mean something.

he hopes you won't leave in the morning.

—

it always starts as a normal day. things don't turn out as you hope they will.

"spider-man's here! spider-man's fighting the sandman!"

you'd been sitting in a ramen restaurant, sipping a pineapple smoothie with your noodle bowl, when the ground-shuddering booms grew close enough to be noticeable. the tv wired up against the wall showed the developing story, with helicopter shots showing flint marko's massive sandy form, bellowing in fury at the tiny red-and-blue figure thwipping around the skyscrapers to avoid hurled cement and rebar.

you can see the same thing out the restaurant window.

civilians scatter, panic and chaos causing a din. people shove past you, and the smart ones don't hang around to whip out their phones. you can taste the dryness in the air, the thick desert-like heat compressing inwards and crackling in your fingertips. sand-marko roars in rage and surges forward like a wave, crumpling cars like tissue paper.

YN.

the low, grating voice is loud in your head, overruling every scream in every direction.

THAT'S A BIG BAD GUY. LET'S FIGHT HIM.

"i'm looking at that church tower, man. he's getting close. the bell's the perfect shape to throw."

COWARD, venom roars in your head. YOU WON'T FIGHT TO SAVE OUR SPIDER?

"i'm not a coward," you snap, dodging an i-bar thrown like a javelin. it pierces the restaurant window. "he's got it covered. he's fought sandman a few times, knows his weaknesses."

if he could, venom would narrow his eyes at you. WE KNOW WHO HE IS. WHY CAN'T HE KNOW WHO WE ARE, YN?

"because we've killed people," you hiss, sprinting towards marko's mammoth form. a barefoot woman in a business suit screams for help, fruitlessly tugging the arm of another woman pinned inside the foyer of a law firm's brick building. "heroes don't do that."

venom forms a simple black face mask and cap over your face to hide your identity a little more. a large pile of concrete chunks from the caved-in floors above trap the woman in a tiny space under a table, where she'd dived for cover. you reach out and an oily black tendril shoots out, smashing a falling chunk of concrete to dust before it can crush the barefoot woman. she doesn't notice among all the other falling debris outside and spots you.

"please, help us!" she cries with a face smeared with ash. "her leg's pinned!"

you run up to them, gripping the edge of the largest chunk of concrete, snapped steel bars sticking out at angles. venom envelops your fist and spreads along the underside of the chunk, giving you more leverage to push it high enough to allow the woman to crawl through. her left leg is smeared with blood, soaking into her pantyhose. she limps out, leaning heavily on the other woman, who stares mutely as you set the concrete slab back down with a grunt and venom slinks back into your skin.

"thanks," she whispers, finding your eyes under the cap. you nod silently, and she helps the other woman hobble out of the ruin that once was a building.

you turn your attention back to the sandman. he's further away, and you notice how jungkook's leading him towards buildings with water towers. most of them are apartment complexes, and with the speed they're moving, there's going to be no shortage of civilians in danger.

"we'll focus on getting people out. spider-man will focus on wrangling the sandman. teamwork makes the dream work." you race towards marko, dodging all the people running the opposite way. if you were smart, you'd follow them, but you're not smart, and venom roars encouragement and puppets your body in the direction of civilians in need when you miss them.

with a bellow like a thousand boulders through glass, marko smashes jungkook through the roof of the train station, the famous, golden grand central terminal. you happen to be there, helping a family find each other through the chaos.

when jungkook wheezes and struggles to his feet, his gaze passes over you – then snaps back. the eyes of his mask widen, and he looks as if he's about to run to you – before marko slams him along the ground with a huge fist of sand.

there are still civilians in the station, trapped underground where the floors have caved in on the stairs to the platforms. on the lowest level, you manage to nudge aside a large piece of steel and concrete, reaching down to a terrified father cradling two little boys in his arms. they flinch back when the debris shifts dangerously, sand swirling in the air above.

"take them," the man pleads, "take my kids – please! i'll wait it out down here. i won't make it through that gap."

"are you kidding?" you shout above the din of battle and distant sirens, eyes widening. booms shake the ground and the walls, reverberating in your bones. "the tunnels might collapse!"

"i'll take that chance," he calls back, ushering forward his older son. he turns to him and grips his shoulder. the boy's in tears, babbling to his dad not to leave him. grimly, he pushes him towards you, and the boy hangs off of your arm as you lift him next to you through the gap in the debris. it's barely big enough for the width of his shoulders, and it'll take too long to clear it all before marko might do something that'll crush or suffocate you all.

the man lifts the infant towards you. you strain to reach for the crying baby, hidden tendrils of black mass extending out of your back and shoulders focussed on keeping the weight off of you and the child sobbing next to you. you take the baby under the arms and hold him to your chest, feeling venom form a wrap carrier around the child. he has enough foresight to turn your jacket into the wrap for appearances later.

the air is getting hot, hard to breathe through the dust, and venom shapes a simple face mask over the baby's mouth and nose to filter the air. the baby stops crying almost immediately with his influence.

with another rattling boom shaking your roots, you peer through the hole, gripping the back of the older boy's sweatshirt to keep him close and steady. "i'm coming back. stay alive."

with that, venom leverages the steel frame away, allowing you to crawl out from beneath it. the young boy clutches your belt as you hurry up what remains of the stairs, coughing in the dry, sandy air.

"vee, how's the baby?" you mutter, running along the lengthy platforms while the fight rages overhead. with every heavy smash, concrete and tiling dust your shoulders, trickling from hairline cracks in the ceiling.

CALM.

"okay… kid, when we get up there, you have to close your eyes and mouth, alright? try not to eat any sand."

he sniffles and nods, his grip tightening with resolve.

grand central and several nearby blocks are ruined with huge piles of sand blown into the corners, making the ground hard to run across. the boy slips a few times but you're always there to haul him back up.

half of your attention is on spider-man. even as you're lifting a displaced i-bar from a nearby construction site from the entrance, one eye is on the tiny red-and-blue figure zipping around and a shrinking sandman. marko's patches of dark sand slough off in heavy cascades, enraging him – making him desperate.

you run the children to a nearby police blockade, which is little more than two or three cars parked haphazardly across the road. a fire engine is parked nearby – the older boy screams, "mom!" and stumbles towards a woman in firefighter gear. with the way they embrace and the woman checks him for injuries, you don't have much worry bundling the now-crying infant up in his blanket and pressing him into her arms. you don't wait for swapped words or even eye contact before spinning on your heel and running back towards the ruins of the train station.

"flint! you have to stop this!" jungkook shouts, crashing another water tower down onto him. "what's going on, man?"

"i can't stay here!" marko bellows, his voice like the whip of a hurricane. he flings a billboard at jungkook, which he deftly dodges. "i won't!"

"what are you talking about? why not?" he threads the needle between slabs of debris swirling in marko's storm. "marko, you're going to hurt people!"

in response, he roars, whipping up a sandstorm into a single spear-like point, and hurls it down towards jungkook.

he dodges, pulling himself out of the way just in time, but you don't have his spider-sense. the shaft of the beige spear thrusts through your heart.

jungkook's senses explode until his ears ring. he looks back and screams.

the father's hand slips in yours as your grip loosens. he cries out in horror and blood stains the compressed sand, dripping from the tip.

you can't breathe. the sand collapses where it sits, including in the gaping wound the size of a beer bottle. frantically, venom floods the wound, pushing out the contaminants and creating and stitching your cells back together. but with his attention already divided through holding two tonnes of steel off your back and bolstering your strength to lift the man with one hand, he has to choose his battles. he chooses you – you can feel the power draining from you, your hand slipping around the father's.

you blink, hard, to rid yourself of the dizziness and nausea rising in your gut as venom stitches your heart and lungs and bones back together. you stare down at the man, whose terrified face is splattered with your blood. "i'm going to pull," you rasp, blood spilling from your lips. "your family's safe."

and you pull. you pull and pull, twice as hard because your hands are wet with blood and sweat, and the man finally manages to grab the edges of the hole and clamber out, collapsing beside you.

you push him weakly, hands feeling fat and rubbery. "go," you cough, able to feel the air on your exposed heart. you push him again. "go."

the floor of the station crumbles into a sinkhole over you, blocking you into a tiny space. you slump over, blinking hard with your forehead against the ground to rid yourself of the black spots swimming into your vision.

a cry of your name, and light spears down onto you. jungkook roars with effort as he hauls six feet of steel and concrete off of you and it crashes into the wall of the train station, crumbling into pieces.

he wraps an arm around you and webs the ceiling, lifting you out and hiding behind a corner. he falls to his knees, dragging you towards him by your shoulders with a sob.

"b-baby," he sobs, tremors wracking his shoulders. "baby, no, no, oh, god, i'm so sorry – baby, please—"

he peels back your black jacket and a wail rips through him at the sight. you keep your bleary gaze on the red of his mask, feeling venom squirm inside your cells, beating on the walls to let him out, to heal you. by sheer fucking willpower you manage to hold him back, burning him whenever he comes too close to the edges of your wound. he roars inside your head, slamming his will against yours in an effort to subdue you, knock you out of the driver's seat.

NO! STOP FIGHTING ME!

he can't know. it would break him.

your lips part to speak. your throat is dry, your tongue too big for your mouth. "you sh-should… go fight that bad guy…"

NO!

jungkook rips off his mask. he can't breathe, and his world crumbles around him. tears stream down his cheeks and throat. he gasps, breaths short and wheezing, and cradles you close, rocking your body against his. "no," he hiccups, gloved hands shifting down your chest to clear the cloth around the hole that goes right through. he can see the blue of his suit through it and bile rises in his throat. "no!"

"it's okay," you sigh raggedly, reaching up and groping for his face. you can't see much in the blurry darkness invading your vision. "s'okay… 's okay. you can win this. c-come find me… later…"

"fuck that!" he cries, gripping you tighter and obsessively running his hand through your sandy hair, pressing his lips to your temple. his tears are wet and cold against your skin, a small reprieve from the suffocating heat.

he clutches your hand to his cheek, pinning it there. his dark eyes glimmer with fat tears, and you can't help but think it's beautiful how his lashes clump together and the reflections waver in his eyes like the starry sky in a lake. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry," he whimpers. "i love you. i love you. please – p-please don’t go, please don't leave me – don't close your fucking eyes!" he screams when your gaze slips from his to blink slowly up at the ceiling, each blink getting heavier and heavier; the voice in your head gets harder to ignore. he presses his palm over the gushing wound. "no, no, no, no, no—! i-i can fix this, okay, you'll be okay! i can fix—"

a massive sandy club slams into him. he cracks the wall with the force and he groans as he peels himself out of the crevices, his limbs wobbly and his head ringing.

sandman is smaller now, human-sized. he grips his weapon, and in his hands it transforms into a battleaxe, the blade edges gleaming as he compresses it to razor-sharp glass.

jungkook glances aside, where your body lays crumpled and limp, dark oily blood pooling under your shoulders. he looks back at flint marko and all he sees is red.

he doesn't use his webs, doesn't wall-crawl. he lunges like a panther and drives his fists into his face, his screams of agony tearing his throat up ten times over.

over and over. over and over.

marko groans weakly, his face swollen and bruised. his lips are thick and purple, blood and saliva spilling onto the floor.

jungkook knows the bones of his hands are cracked. he can feel them grinding against each other, but the pain doesn't register. all he knows is that a villain is still alive, and that his best friend is not.

he raises his fist, flexing his hand. his chest heaves. he wonders what sandman would look like if he didn't hold back. he might knock off his head.

that sounded good.

his fist comes down – and halts.

jungkook tugs. a large hand tightens around his wrist. he raises his eyes.

large, filmy white eyes stare down at him, a grinning mouth like a red slash filled with too-big teeth widening slightly.

"HELLO, PRETTY SPIDER," venom purrs, eight-foot-tall body blocking out the hazy sunlight. "LET'S TALK."

jungkook makes a sound between a gasp and a retch as he pats his face and finds only skin. "my mask—"

"DON'T BOTHER," interrupts venom, tugging jungkook's wrist and pulling him off of marko's limp body, whose chest still rises and falls shallowly. "WE ALREADY KNOW WHO YOU ARE."

"you do?" jungkook rasps, on his knees and still swaying dangerously. "'we'…?"

venom's long scarlet tongue lolls out of his mouth as he grins. those murky white eyes are hard to track. "HE DOESN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW HIM. EVEN NOW HE SHOUTS AT ME." his eyes narrow and he glances aside. "BUT I CAN PUT HIM BACK TO SLEEP IF HE WANTS IT."

jungkook swallows, his eyelids heavy and his body begging to lay down and rest. he cradles his ruined fists, blood seeping through the cloth.  "i don't… i…"

the monstrous, grating voice almost seems to soften. "ALLOW ME TO HEAL YOU."

he offers a large clawed hand. his skin is black and oily, somewhere between flesh and liquid. it never stays in one place for long, swirling and smoothing over in faint patterns like mixing thick paint. heart in his mouth and mind in pieces, jungkook places his hand in venom's.

the black oily goo begins to spread over venom's knuckles, seeping into jungkook's suit and skin. the feeling is cold and damp and jungkook panics, scratching at his skin and yanking his arm back, but venom holds fast, and his inhumanly bulky body begins to shrink – down, down. oily blackness gives way to soft human skin.

you gaze back at jungkook, eyes apprehensive and sorrowful. his hand lays in yours. you lick your lips, glancing down at the black shirt and jacket over your heart. like it never even happened.

"hey," you greet softly, your voice a comforting low rumble.

jungkook stares up at you: still, silent, unseeing. his eyes well with tears, and he doesn't move, his gaze doesn't shift, as they slip down his cheeks, creating new clean tracks over his dusty, bloodstained cheeks.

your lips quirk up mirthlessly. "look like you've seen a ghost."

"no," he whispers in a voice like sandpaper. he yanks his hand away and rubs his eyes roughly until stars and colours bloom in his vision. "no, no, i'm going crazy, oh, god—" his voice cracks on the last word, his shoulders shaking.

you fall to your knees, taking his hands firmly in yours and pinning them to his sides. "look at me. look at me, baby," you whisper, "open your eyes."

stubbornly, they remain screwed shut. he shakes his head constantly, his shoulders hunching over. venom returns to you, black tendrils trickling back between the cells of your body.

you sigh, glancing down at your entwined hands. you link your fingers with his. "you're probably disgusted with me, i know. you've read the reports, watched the news. you know what i am – what we are. we're not a hero like you are. i understand if you don't want me to be your boyfriend anymore."

at that, he lets out a terrified little gasp and his eyes shoot open.

"there we go," you murmur. "but i was telling the truth. we aren't compatible."

"shut up."

you glance up. "what?"

"shut up," he repeats, louder. his voice is shaky. "i'm… you're… i'm still processing the first part. slow down. please."

"what first part?"

his head snaps up, the anger in his expression taking you by surprise. "the fucking part where you aren't fucking dead!"

his voice echoes in the empty train station, half-ruined and buried in sand. his chest heaves after the outburst.

he exhales shakily and sits back on his heels, turning his hands over and pressing his thumbs against his knuckles. there is no pain, no grinding broken bones. "i… just let me…"

he sways on the spot and keels over. you rush forward and catch him, cradling him in your arms.

"baby," you whisper, shaking him slightly. "baby."

the sirens of police cars swerving on the gritty roads outside catch your attention. once they've secured the civilians, they'll be closing in on marko quickly, and he doesn’t look like he's in any position to wake up soon, let alone fight back. you glance down at jungkook's limp body, his eyes closed and lips parted slightly.

you shift him in your arms and lift him easily, walking past the pool of your own blood. the red spider-man mask sits crumpled on the ground, and a black tendril scoops it up as you move past it. with each step, venom grows, engulfing your body until it's just him cradling jungkook's small body in one muscular arm. he exits the train station and lifts a hand, shooting a thick black webby tendril into the air and launching himself up, away from the sirens and the journalists' chatter.

—

when jungkook opens his eyes again, he's staring at the golden sky. the sun is about to touch the horizon behind pillars and pillars of glassy skyscrapers.

a hand cards through his hair, gentle and familiar. he turns his head.

you smile down at him, hair tussling in the wind. you're wearing a different set of black clothes. his zip-up hoodie slips down his shoulder and you pull it back up.

"morning, sleepyhead," you hum, combing his unruly hair with your fingers. "feeling better?"

he blinks, bleary-eyed, at his shoes. "what…? how did i…"

"you passed out after fighting sandman. we headed home long enough to grab you a jacket and then we decided to bring you up here, away from the hubbub of the city streets. thought you'd appreciate it." you glance up, gazing at the sunset. "can't deny that view, either."

"'we'," jungkook repeats, his thoughts chugging slowly. he blinks and shoots upright, staring back at you with huge brown eyes. "oh my god. you're that guy. you're venom."

"half of him, yes," you agree, watching him carefully.

he turns back around, staring at his lap. part of him wants to throw up. another part wants to scream, and yet another wants to leap into your arms, cry, and pass out again.

instead, he turns back to you. "tell me how it works."

"how venom works?"

jungkook nods, turning to face you fully. he folds his legs under himself.

"well—" the words get jumbled up in your head. where could you even start?

THE BEGINNING.

so you do. the lab breach, the symbiosis achieved, the fight with riot and the rocket. jungkook listens attentively, nodding along but otherwise quiet. sometime during your recounting, he slides closer to you, sharing the air conditioning unit as a backrest. he tucks his knees up against his chest and wraps his arms around them, resting his head against your shoulder.

when you finish, you sit in silence for a time, wondering if you've missed anything. venom doesn't think you have, so you glance down at jungkook, searching him for a response.

"so…" he begins quietly, "is that why you never carry a bag around anymore, yet always seem to have a laptop and pens when you need it? venom has freaking hammerspace?"

you chuckle, resting your temple against the top of jungkook's head. "no, interdimensional pockets of spacetime, obviously. yeah, it's how he can get so big despite originally being the size of a large bag of chips. he pulls our mass out of… somewhere."

"somewhere," jungkook echoes, thoughtlessly. despite the tone of his voice, you can feel him tensing up against you, all his muscles like steel corded rope as he leans in. new science never fails to excite him, and he's always been a hard-science kind of guy with physics and chemistry. your specialisation in alien biochem opens a new world to him, and it doesn't help that he loves hearing you talk.

you wrap an arm around him, kissing his temple. "i'm not really sure how it works. that was one of the things we were looking into when the lab, er, went kablooey. maybe vee could tell you about it."

his eyes widen. "would he really?"

DON'T LOOK AT ME.

you clear your throat. "uh… he doesn't know how it works, either. i don't think they had scientists on their asteroid."

jungkook visibly dims at that, but shrugs and nuzzles into your shoulder with a sigh. "it's okay. i just think that's so cool. i could finally stop making a point to take my camera out with me – and i'd never run out of film." he jerks back, staring up at you with wide eyes. "you could take all you wanted with you on planes! no more stupid weight limit. man, that would have been so helpful in italy."

"yeah, but bad for your bank account, baby," you tease, nudging him with a grin.

"shut up. like you didn't wear that necklace for two straight years." he gazes up at you with gentle brown eyes. they flicker down to your lips and back to your eyes. he leans in.

you meet him halfway, cradling the back of his head and curling your fingers in his hair. you groan softly as he nips at your lower lip. a low, pleased rumble reverberates in your chest and stomach as he swings his legs over yours, straddling your lap and tilting his head to kiss you deeper. his lips are soft, if a little chapped. luckily for him, you're wearing chapstick.

he sits back with a hum and smacks his lips. "mm. cherry?"

"guess again," you murmur, and his brow pinches slightly. he leans in, capturing your lips, and when he parts, he takes your heart with him, comfortingly sitting behind his teeth.

he frowns, deep in thought. "is it… cola?"

"no. it was cherry," you admit, sliding your hands up his thighs and squeezing. "i lied – sorry. i wanted another kiss."

he laughs and thunks his forehead against yours, pecking your lips. "i knew it. nothing else quite captures the flavour of synthetic cherry like chapstick. it's super sweet. like you," he adds cheekily, eyes crinkling. "you're so stupid... you could have just kissed me again. i wouldn't have minded."

you hum quietly, avoiding eye contact. you lift your hands off of him. "i just… are you faking it right now?"

his smile vanishes. "faking what?"

"you're acting like you don't care about what i've done. i'm a murderer," you implore, "you shouldn't want me anymore. you're spider-man and the best hero we don't deserve. can we at least talk about it, rather than pretending as if nothing happened?"

he sits quietly on your lap for a while, shifting his weight to fully rest on you. he stares down at his hands and plays with the zipper of your jacket, wiggling the metal tag up and down about an inch either way.

"i don't know what to say," he whispers eventually, not lifting his eyes. "i love you. you know that. i really, really do. i just never thought we'd have such… fundamentally different takes on vigilantism."

he chuckles at himself, a little self-deprecating. "you make me really happy, and it might be cruel, but i don't want to give you up for anything. not even if you, um, bit people's heads off… you don't do that anymore, right?"

"no," you reply quickly, shaking your head. "no – no. it won't happen again, either. we've found a better way to sustain him. he especially likes those little… hershey's kisses."

"he likes kisses?" jungkook sounds surprised.

"yeah, i know. i had the same reaction." you shrug, cuddling jungkook's waist and pressing your cheek into his shoulder. he drapes his arms over your shoulders. "anyway. thank you. for… for being selfish."

"you say it as if you expected differently," he says softly, gaze searching and imploring. "you really thought i'd hate you?"

silently, you nod. your hair tickles jungkook's cheek.

"i could never hate you," he says firmly, cupping your face. "we've been through so much together. we can – we can get through this. maybe you guys can just… tone down the violence a little, maybe?"

"we'll try our best," you whisper. your gaze flickers down to his lips. "thank you."

he hums softly, pressing his forehead against yours. he closes his eyes, the gentle breeze loosening his hair from behind his ears. you tuck them back and cup his jaw, bringing him in for a deep, hungry kiss. he moans into it and wraps his arms around your shoulders, the raised black webbing of his suit bumping over the base of your neck as he cups it.

you part with a sharp gasp as he nips your lower lip with his teeth, the sting only serving to deepen the hunger gnawing in your lower stomach.

jungkook jerks back, eyes widening. hastily, he wipes the blood from your lip, already babbling apologies. "o-oh, crap, i'm sorry! i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to – does it hurt—?"

"fuck, we liked that," you rasp, gazing up at your perfect pretty boy in your lap, and you swear you can see your own pupils blow with lust in some strange godly out-of-body vision. you grin up at jungkook and pull his arms back around you, hearing his already-quick heartbeat pound.

"i… i don't – why do you want to bleed?" he sounds so clueless, so worried, and a deep, pleased rumble escapes your chest. no one knows who it comes from.

"i like anything you give me. 'sides, it's not like you can really hurt me, you know? since you know my big dark secret, and all."

he glances away. he tugs at your jacket's lapels, straightening them for the sake of it. "i don't… i don't really like the taste of blood," he mumbles, rubbing his cheek with the back of his knuckles to brush away the tickle of hair. "i like it when we're rough, but – but just no blood, please. i like anything until that point."

your gaze softens. venom seals the two edges of the nick without having to be asked, and you dab away the remaining blood with your sleeve. "does it remind you too much of bad fights?"

he nods, exhaling shakily. "and you. today. i can’t – i really th-thought you were—"

you hush him as he leans into you, gripping you tight. he buries his head in your neck and you kiss his shoulder, cradling him as he curls into your embrace. "you wanna head home? make some waffles and cuddle?"

"n-no. i'll deal with it later when my brain catches up, so let's pretend like it didn't happen. right now, my suit is so painfully tight and i really want you to fix it."

"sure, yeah. but you know venom controls our suit, right?" you say, lips curving into a soft, half-teasing smile. "i'm no seamstress. tailoring anything but the inseam is a challenge."

"shut up," he groans, grabbing your hand and pressing it against his bulge. you can feel the stiffness of a cup, thin enough to keep his silhouette clean and flat. "you're gonna put me out of a job if you get any quippier."

"i'd be a pretty sick spider-man." suddenly, you push him down, flipping him onto his back as you slide between his warm thick thighs. you cradle the back of his head before resting it against the concrete rooftop, careful with him as you always are. his eyes widen and he flushes dark as your clothes melt into an inky black layer, skin-tight, just like his. as venom hems off the neck, black tendrils sinking into the skin behind your ears and nape and below your adam's apple, a flourish of white spreads across your chest like a lily unfurling.

"h-hey," he protests weakly, though he reaches up to trace the slender spider motif embossed into the suit. "i designed that."

you scoff, rolling your hips against his teasingly. "can you even enact intellectual property laws if you've got a secret identity? mine now – finders-keepers." you nip at his neck and kiss your way down the centre of his chest, feeling his breaths stutter as you press the spider emblem in the middle of his chest. "now, that is some view…"

softly, he whines and kicks your thigh, petulantly covering his bare chest. all it does is tense his biceps and squeeze his chest together, all impossibly chiselled. fuck, why couldn't you have gotten bit by a radioactive spider instead of playing host to an alien who exacerbates your worst instincts?

"not fair," he huffs, pushing your face away from his washboard abs. he tugs the suit back over his arms and smirks when you groan at the loss. "mm… i can't take your clothes off, so you shouldn't be able to take mine off. what if i wanna see you, too?"

"what, not a fan of the black suit?" you pout, flexing an arm teasingly. you don't miss how his eyes snap to it, his pink lips parting slightly.

"don't make me lie to get it off you." he taps the emblem at his chest, tightening the suit, and swings his legs around so he can mirror your kneeling position. he glances down and hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and propping his chin against your chest as he gazes up at you. "might be a literary message here. anti spider-man versus the original… morals, outlooks, aesthetics?"

"i'll go back to my normal look if you suck my cock in your suit," you offer.

jungkook's cheeks darken as he giggles, embarrassed. "y-you're serious?"

"yeah. we'll even do it now. think of it as a down payment." the suit shifts and billows – and you're wearing jeans and a leather jacket again. you exhale softly, palming your hardening cock, and jungkook's dark eyes can't tear themselves from devouring the sight. "so? thoughts?"

"i wasn't talking about your outfit," he murmurs, sliding his gloved hands up over your knees and thighs. he shifts, pressing his nose into your bulge, and gazes up at you through his long lashes. "you really wanna fuck me… i-in the suit?"

"shit, fuck yeah," you breathe, carding your fingers through his hair. "that's so fucking hot."

he giggles again, already reaching for your belt and zipper. if venom unentwines your belt for him, he doesn't mention it. "naughty, naughty… what does venom think?"

"he thinks you're our pretty spider, but you already know that," you huff, closing your eyes as he mouths at your boxers. "he's dirty-talking. no, i'm not telling him that. you can do it yourself later if he wants to hear it."

"so, my boys are happy, yeah?" he purrs, nuzzling into your twitching cock. "mm, i can tell. you're drooling, baby."

"because you're being a damn tease," you groan, tipping your head back against the concrete block forming the roof access. you buck your hips into him – THAT IS PITIFUL – and jungkook moans softly, teasing the band of your underwear. "please, nnh, please…"

"didn't quite catch that. you want this?"

"shit, yes, i know you heard it. fuck me, my dick's gonna fall off from how fucking hard it is," you complain, swallowing harshly as he accepts it with a proud little smile on his lips, tugging your underwear under your shaft. he hums, pleased, as he gazes up at it, stroking the base lazily.

"has venom made you more impatient? try to relax, honey… don't want you bursting in my mouth after three seconds, now, do we?"

"you're such a jerk…"

"mhm, yeah. venom's made you less patient. do you remember when we used those handcuffs? you were so good for me then." he licks a long, flat stripe up your cock from base to head and flicks the tip of his tongue over the glans rapidly, moaning softly as your hips jerk into his mouth.

your nails dig into the rough concrete below you, cold under your shoulders. they crumble slightly under your touch. "oh, fuck… those were real, weren't they? where'd you get them?"

"they tried to arrest spider-man once, way back. but i have a detective friend who happened to be nearby, and she helped me out. didn't take the cuffs from me, though."

it dawns on you like a bucket of ice down your neck. "that's why we never used them again. you snapped them to get me out of them."

jungkook glances up at you, mouthing at your balls contentedly. his eyes crinkle when he grins. "smart cookie."

easily, he takes the head into his mouth, suckling wetly as he strokes the rest in his hand. he pulls away briefly to spit on your cock – jesus fucking christ – and his pink lips stretch pale around your shaft as he lowers his head, swallowing several inches in one motion.

your head tips back and a drawled moan escapes your lips. you chuckle lazily, twisting a hand in his hair as he bobs his head, gradually taking more into his mouth. looking at him, that shiny skintight red-and-blue – you could burst right there.

fucking a superhero. you never could have dreamt it. a superhero is giving you head so sloppy it's dripping down your balls.

hm. maybe venom is influencing you more than you thought, because two months ago such a thought would've set your face on fire, yet all it does now is lead you to imagine what new positions you could try with your pretty spider, how else you could have him swallowing your come.

popping off with a wet gasp, jungkook grins up at you with half-lidded eyes, panting for breath. he nibbles his lower lip as he pumps your cock steadily, his gaze glued to how the generous precome drips over his knuckles and down the web-shooters of his suit. he giggles and shivers with a thought – how full would he feel if you finished inside him? has that changed?

he stuffs your cock into his mouth to hide his blush.

"fuck, sweetheart, 'm gonna come if you keep sucking like that," you groan, the filthy schlk-schlk of his hot wet throat bubbling arousal in your gut. his nose brushes the warm skin of your lower stomach and his gaze is dark and clouded when he gazes up at you, his throat constantly constricting and loosening as he swallows around your throbbing dick.

he doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. his grip tightens on your thighs, digging into your skin, and he swirls his tongue desperately over the veins, flicking and curling as he feels your rapid, booming heartbeat in his mouth.

saliva drips down his chin as you thrust sharply into his mouth with a hissed curse. his eyes roll back as hot, thick come bursts down his throat and he can't even whimper – no room to. your fist yanks his head closer and he drools as what feels like gallons of come warm his belly. your hips grind roughly against his lips.

when your grip finally loosens, jungkook collapses backwards onto an elbow with a raspy gasp, chest heaving. he's never had much of a gag reflex, not since the bite, but fuck…

when his eyes flutter open, he wipes his slick, swollen lips and sits up, skin too hot for his suit. his cock throbs against the cup, wet and aching. he nearly collapses, arms unable to hold up his own weight, but you're there to catch him, one hand twisting in the back of his jacket to hold him up by the scruff like a kitten. he whimpers, fingers tugging ineffectively at your clothes.

"thanks, baby," you say huskily, pulling him into your arms and crushing your lips to his. the taste is sweet with a slight salty tang and he moans as your tongue pushes against his, messy and animal. he melts into your arms, limbs like noodles as you kiss him and lap up your own come from the corners of his mouth.

he nearly cries when you slip your thigh between his legs. he grips your shoulders for balance as he ruts against your thigh, needy gasps and moans spilling freely from his lips – you rumble your approval when he wraps his arms tightly around you, temple pressed against yours and lips right by your ear. his hips lose their rhythm until he's practically humping you, the stinging pleasure of his trapped cock spiking hot desire up his spine.

with one hand, you grope his ass, rumbling purrs sighed from deep in your chest. you can taste the embarrassment sweetening his eager moans – how lucky you are to have such a cute little spider.

but you are HUNGRY.

thick black claws shape your fingers. jungkook squeaks at the sharp riiip of cloth and he gasps, stiffening and twisting around to check the damage instinctively. you kiss his shoulder placatingly as you slap his ass, squeezing the soft meat and muscle.

"fuck—! it's cold," he whines, gripping your wrist. "oh, man, my suit's already torn from earlier – you couldn’t've just waited until i took it off?"

"wouldn't that just make you colder?" you reply, amused.

"well, now i have to replace the entire blue section from my hips to my knees! i can't just sew a line up my ass, now, can i?"

"yeah, yeah, you can bitch to me later. i'll fix it," you huff, grabbing him by his little waist and pushing him down beside you. you flip him over onto his stomach and tug his hips up. you take a moment to admire your boyfriend. how nice that is to think – your boyfriend. "mm… just wanna eat you right up."

tucking his head against his forearms, he gazes over his shoulder at you, face flushed and hair mussed. he grins, a little breathless. "please don't eat me, mister venom…"

your other half growls, his hunger overtaking any reservations you have about prepping jungkook properly. you move before you can think, your lips parting and your clawed fingers pulling to reveal his twitching asshole.

your long, long tongue pushes into him, saliva squelching obscenely as it wriggles inside him, flicking and curling against his tight, gummy walls.

he squeals, his heart jumping into his throat with shock, fear, and a healthy dose of burning liquid desire. he knows what it is before his brain can make a thought out of it. it's so deviant that the shock and shame make his tip drip faster. he tugs his jacket sleeves over his knuckles and hides his face in the soft pools of cotton, biting down harshly on his arm to muffle his wanton cries and helpless moans.

"mmgh – ngh! oh fuck. holy fuck, b-baby—! baby, n-not so fast, i'll – 'm sensitive…!"

hot and thick, thick as a cock, your tongue worms its way into him, thrusting and writhing relentlessly. he is plump and soft and utterly delectable, a sweet tasty treat you'll hunger for long after you pull out from his clenching walls.

you can't think – your dick throbs – you see the world through a faint filmy white. you're more monster than man, able to taste the wine-heavy sweetness of jungkook's arousal in the air. it is hard to breathe through his scent – you have to push against it, like wading through waist-high water.

his hips jerk away from you and you growl in warning, yanking him back towards you with a squelch of wetness. your saliva drips down his ass and thighs – thick thighs that quiver like leaves – and jungkook cries, his eyes rolling to show their whites.

somewhere in the back of your brain, you think he came. probably hard. obsessed with his sweet, soft taste as you are, however, and unable to see his cock because of his suit – it makes no difference to your animal indulgences.

jungkook babbles half-words and nonsense, punctuated by shouts of pleasure as your tongue wriggles and glides against his swollen prostate. he comes again with a cry, the stickiness between his thighs only growing with every passing minute.

he presses a shaky hand to his stomach, gasping for breath. he feels so full…

eventually, when jungkook's whines start to quieten, exhaustion making him sway, you begin to slow. your vision starts to clear. your jaw moves lazily against his puffy asshole and his whole body jerks, his hole clamping around your tongue. it feels more human, now.

slowly – somewhat reluctantly – you pull away, panting. his hole gapes slightly, dark and shining with saliva. you dip a clawed thumb against the edge, pulling gently, before pulling away to pat his ass. the motion is so different, so fond and strangely innocent, that it hard-reboots jungkook's half-melted brain. he blinks away the tears and the fog of lust, lifting his head from his arms.

"mmph… baby…?" he mumbles, his words slow and slurred. you tuck your nose into his warm neck, the bulk of your body heavy and comforting. your breaths are slow and steady and instinctually, he tries to match them.

he giggles, ticklish, as you nuzzle into his shoulder, a satisfied sigh fluttering past your lips. he strokes your hair, pressing his ass teasingly against your cock, still hard and heavy. "hah… you 'n' venom're gonna wear me out one day, y'know?"

his voice is wobbly, but pleased. you like it. "sweetheart, you don't have to. we can deal with it alone. you've already done so much for us."

"and let you waste your come? uh-uh. wanna feel it inside me." he wiggles his ass, making you groan. "c'mon, big boy… i'm getting soft."

"you're hard already?"

jungkook laughs at the surprise in your voice. "now that you know who i am, i don't have to hide it anymore. maybe you can even keep up with me."

lifting him up to kneel, you tug off his jacket and lay it down on the concrete. he hums and turns over to lay on his back, spreading his legs to give you room between them. he smiles sweetly up at you – your heart races.

you trace his suit's web patterns with a slight frown. "wait… so – this whole time, you've never really finished?"

"i finish. i just get hard again really quick." he blushes. "it's kinda humiliating, honestly, so i really want you to put it in before the clarity hits me like a truck. shit, was your cock always this big…?"

"you wish it was," you scoff, gripping the base and tapping the head against his hole. "you're such a size queen."

"m-mm, no, really, i seriously think it's – fuck!"

his head falls back as your cock pushes into him with minimal resistance. his walls clamp around you like a vice, drawing groans from both of you as you push in deeper, firm and steady in your pace. his hole swallows you up, and it's so damn warm and wet that you feel your control slip for a single frightening moment. jungkook moans sharply, back arching, as your claws dig into his skin hard enough to snap a normal person's bones.

jungkook's gasps are short and rapid in quick succession. he goes lax in your arms, arms limp above his head. you have him in your lap, his thighs resting atop yours.

"fuck," he hiccups after a giggle. you glance down, away from his drunken expression.

you shift your hips, drawing out, then push back in. a bulge in his stomach follows the motion. in your head, venom purrs at the sight, curling around your senses to feel what you feel like a lazy, satisfied cat.

"yeah," you whisper, experimentally setting a slow pace to really see it. you press your palm against the firmness of your cockhead. "yeah. fuck. you're so fucking hot, driving us downright crazy…"

you sound like an idiot, saying things that a high school jock would say to his cheerleader girlfriend in a teen movie. it's so shallow and repetitive that it makes you embarrassed, but jungkook's moans are extra loud after it, so it can't be all that bad.

still, you'd rather call him beautiful, if only to have him bury his face in your chest and laugh.

"fuck me," he breathes, reaching down and caressing your hands, black and clawed as they are. "fuck me hard – please, don't stop."

he gives you an addicted, lopsided grin, dark eyes blown with want. he cries out as your hips slap his ass, grinding into him. you pull out until the tip rests against his twitching hole and grin, sharper than usual. briefly, your eyes swirl white. "your wish is our command."

you drag him towards you as you thrust forward, your skin meeting with an obscene clap. through your lungs, venom groans, halfway between a growl and a catlike purr. your dick throbs inside his clenching walls, lining his insides with an audacious amount of precome… he'll have to do more than patch up his poor suit.

jungkook's eyes are squeezed shut, a hand planted firmly over his own mouth as your thrusts ravage his body. his hair bounces over his flushed cheeks, locks sticking to his temples with sweat. he seems to shimmer with it in the afternoon light, so unfairly pretty, as if he's dusted with crushed pearls…

you tug his hand away from his lips, parted with need, and your fingers twist through his own, clasping tightly. you rest your weight upon the first joint of each finger – you wouldn't want to rub the backs of his hands raw, after all. it's an easy feat with venom's claws creeping over your fingers from the knuckles like twisting vines.

"c'mon, spider," you purr, relishing the way his eyes flutter with each rough thrust. your balls slap against his ass. "don't be shy. we want to hear you BEG FOR IT."

when you slow down, really making him feel every pulse and twitch of your veins, he manages to crack his eyes open, though they flicker anxiously over the sky and glass towers surrounding you before landing on your face. he swallows, and a defiant glimmer shines in his eye. "no."

"no?" you chuckle. "gettin' cold feet? scared to make a whore out of yourself when you know we're both watching?"

"no," he repeats, a little harrumph passing past his lips. "i don't wanna work for it. you're my boyfriend – you're supposed to make me happy. are you slowing down because you want to tease me, or because you're too tired to keep up?"

a growl. "OH, YOU…"

grip tightening, you shift forward on your knees, hiking his thighs higher over yours – he gasps as your cockhead scrapes against his tender prostate on its way in. he sucks in a deep breath as you bottom out, his lashes fluttering, and the bulge in his belly moves as you do. "babe—"

"does it hurt?"

he shakes his head minutely. his bitten red lips part and he wraps his legs around your waist, digging his heels into the small of your back impatiently. "t-told you not to stop…"

you hum softly and resume a rough, steady pace, the obscene sound of wet skin slapping skin echoing far too loudly with his enhanced hearing. it's hard to ignore and he realises, suddenly, that he's still in the suit – maskless.

"h-hurry – hurry up," he whimpers, a shred of panic fluttering in his belly – or maybe that's just you. "if someone sees—"

"then they'll know how well spider-man takes cock." you smirk with a gloating glint in your eye.

"i'm being s-serious," he whines, breathless. unable to inject any sense of urgency into his words, he settles for squeezing your hands tightly, feeling and hearing the crack as venom imbeds himself into the concrete like tiny harpoons for support. you're trembling slightly – he can feel it in your legs – and he has an inkling that you're holding back more than your own urges.

"SO ARE WE," you reply as if it's obvious. you roll your hips tauntingly into his ass and his back arches, his hole clamping down around your veiny shaft. you hiss and the smirk on your face drops to make room for the irritated twitch of your brow. "fuck. don't squeeze too hard – i'll come early."

"e-early, he says! like you haven't been wringin' me of everything i have," jungkook huffs, squeaking in surprise when you let go of one of his hands to grip his waist and heft it higher, helping you to thrust deeper. your thick cockhead kisses his tender prostate, again and again and again – hot, sticky come drips down your shaft and balls and jungkook's suffocating cock throbs with a pulse of wetness when your claws dig into his skin in warning for his cheek.

you tap his hip absently, surveying your damage. "not everything."

you pause just long enough to seize his suit in both hands, and in one smooth motion, rip his suit to free his cock.

"honey—!"

with a quick swipe of your claw, his underwear falls apart and his dark, throbbing cock springs free. his underwear, looped around his thighs and waist like a jock, held the protective cup in place. you tug it out of his suit impatiently and toss it aside, much to his embarrassment, but he doesn't have long to stutter about it because your big hands close around his neck and your cock slams into him.

he wails. he lets out a bone-searing string of breathless cries and moans, tears welling up on his dark lashes as he grips your wrists and bounces with your rough primal pace. your thumb shifts over his adam's apple. you purr at the feeling of his moans, your name vibrating against your skin like a prayer and burning up your veins to settle in the base of your stomach, hot and coiled.

"SO PRETTY FOR US, SPIDER… SO TINY AND OBEDIENT. your cock is drooling – ALL FOR US," you rumble, shifting one hand to grip his shoulder instead. you cradle his head, turning it slightly to one side. you swear you can hear the blood roaring through his jugular and down, down, down to his heart, through it, and back up again, rushing rushing rushing through his arteries…

"mhm, f'you…! more – more, more," he babbles tearfully, his hard cock leaking a puddle onto his stomach. it leaks down his sides with your harsh thrusts, bouncing him off of your lap like a pretty little toy. your hips quicken, your grunts rumbling out as animal snarls as his cock smacks his stomach and yours throbs deep inside his trembling wet hole. "more! please, baby, fuck, feels so good! so fucking good, 'm gonna – yes! 'm coming—!"

you GROWL as his cock explodes onto his chest, sticky translucent come streaking his suit and dribbling down the black spider emblem. your thick cock pulses in his quivering heat and your orgasm crashes onto you in thundering waves, harder than anything you've ever felt. it feels a bit like dying: the way your thoughts melt into one another into a slosh of raw animal emotion, the blurry white-out vision, the feeling of every nerve and neuron firing at once in a desperate last hurrah that burns you up and shaves the meat off your bones for what seems like an eternity.

your eyes flutter open. the filmy white has receded.

jungkook hangs off of your cock, his hands loosely pressed against your chest. his head rests in one massive inky black palm, his back in the other. he gazes up at you with glossy, dazed eyes, something like awe glimmering in them as he pants, hot breath fanning your kiss-bitten lips.

like a dog satisfied with an under-the-table steak, venom slinks back into your skin, and jungkook shifts his quivering thighs around your hips to accommodate you better between them. he leans in and cups your cheek with a shaky hand – you don't think you'd notice it if venom wasn't boosting your senses – to kiss you gently, his soft slick lips moving against yours with lazy contentment.

you blink slowly at him, your brain still pulling itself together, and finally notice the state of him: sweat-damp hair, marked skin, bruised lips, ruined suit.

ruined suit…

"oh, shit," you croak, reaching between jungkook's legs to collect the thick white come dribbling down his thighs, still red with the imprint of your grip. it's starting to turn purple in places. "shit."

"it's okay! it's okay," he soothes, cupping your face. his voice is raspy and his chest heaves. "i can fix it. it's just a bit of thread."

"n-no, it's more than that," you whisper urgently, eyes widening as you hug jungkook to your chest. your cock shifts inside of him. it's almost tender. "i hurt you."

"i heal fast, honey, remember? tomorrow morning, i'll be right as rain. you'll see." he shifts on your lap and winces softly, inhaling sharply. "j-just – mm – pull out slowly, please. and lay me back – i can't feel my legs…"

"o-okay. okay. sorry," you mumble, being as gentle as you can. once he's comfortable, you reach down and slip yourself out little by little.

the head pops out, and a thick gush of come pools around jungkook's ass.

he groans at the feeling, his gaping asshole clenching futilely as it leaks your come like a damn waterfall. one of his hands presses against his stomach, the phantom feeling of you devastating his insides impossible to overcome. the other hand flicks lazily over his shaft a few times as he pants and regains his breath, his thighs trembling even as you try to comfort him. he's never looked so… drained before after nights together. not like he could fall asleep at any moment.

after a while of cleaning up – to the best of your ability – you find yourself sitting cross-legged by jungkook as he lays his head in your lap, halfway there to nodding off as the warm breeze musses his hair.

jungkook plays with your fingers as venom slowly stitches together shorts and a hoodie for him. black, of course. he insisted you all have to match. he's been rather quiet for a while, and when jungkook teased him about being so vocal just minutes ago, he'd huffed something about being hungry. the lack of energy was his reason for why he was threading the clothes onto jungkook's back so slowly, but you saw right through his excuses.

"how are you feeling?" you ask softly, fluttering your fingers at him.

he huffs and catches your hand without looking, glancing up at you. "honey, stop making it sound like i'm sick – i'm fine. a little achy, but nothing worse than hitting your funny bone on the edge of a door. the only thing that's taking its time is my voice. i sound like i've just gone to a club – nightclub, i mean – and had an hour-long conversation."

you chuckle, watching as venom finally finishes the sleeve he'd been working on for the last few minutes. after a moment, the surface of the hoodie ripples like water, and a white spider symbol, sharp and long, blooms from the centre of his chest. it settles back into simple cotton and polyester.

you touch the mark, tracing its edges. "i think it's a nice design. maybe you should try a new suit for the next one, since this one's pretty messed up."

"and whose fault is that?' he snarks, sliding his palm beneath yours and shaking it slightly. he glances down and nibbles on his lower lip. "it's nice, i admit… but it might be dangerous. i could remember i'm wearing it and get distracted, and then i'll smack into a crane or something."

"spider-man gets distracted?"

"only for big boys with big you-knows," he whispers, blushing and giggling to himself. he props himself up and reclines in your arms, humming contently and sighing as your arms wrap securely around him, heavy and warm. "i'm kidding. not really, but i'm kidding. i'd love you even if you took over the world and made us all subjects to your dark dominion. please don't, though, because i'd be morally obligated to stand up for the little guy and i don't wanna hurt you, y'know?"

you nod with a smile, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. he purses his lips against it for a little kiss. "i promise i won't go crazy and become a supervillain."

he falls quiet for a while, settling his head back into your lap. he closes his eyes, dark lashes brushing his cheeks, and brings your hand up to rest on his chest. his heartbeat is slow but sure, and you can feel your muscles relaxing just by the sight of his serene expression.

he doesn't hate you. he doesn't hate you.

he won't leave you alone. not ever – you understand this now. in this world of gods and aliens, you couldn't be happier with anyone else by your side – you are just mortal, just human. so very human. even if a planet-eating god sticks their fingers into the threads of the multiverse, melting existence as you know it, at least you'll be able to look into his eyes and know that at the very least, you were loved – and that is worth more than anything.

[steddiealltheway]

Steve glances down at his watch and looks around at the kids anxiously awaiting Eddie's arrival. He's five minutes late. In any other situation, this wouldn't be a lot, but considering that Eddie makes it a point to be either on time or (most likely) early to anything involving D&D with the party... it's highly concerning.

Steve glances at his watch again just to give himself something to do when Dustin finally bursts out, "Okay! This has to be a prank, right? Like someone has to be in on this."

Steve glances at all the other kids staring blankly at Dustin and finally decides to take matters into his own hands. "I don't think that's what's going on, Henderson, but thanks for the input. You guys stay here, and I'll go check on his place."

"I'm coming with you," Dustin states firmly.

Steve furrows his brows. "No, you're staying because if Eddie gets here and you're gone then that just means more waiting." When Dustin crosses his arms and continues staring, Steve sighs, digs his wallet out of his pocket, and hands Dustin a few bills. "Order a pizza and hang out for a bit or something. Walkie me if he gets here."

Dustin smiles brightly and takes the money immediately rushing off to Mike who is already on the phone calling the pizza place. Steve puts his hands on his hips and asks, "And what do you say?"

"Thanks, Mom," Mike says flatly, raising his eyebrows and looking entirely unimpressed.

"Thank you!" Lucas says as Will smiles and gives him a quiet, "Thank you, Steve."

Steve waits for Dustin who rolls his eyes and says, "Thank you. Now check on Eddie." Steve raises his eyebrows. Dustin sighs, "Please."

"You guys are going to be the death of me," Steve says as he makes his way up the Wheeler's basement steps. He wishes Max and El were there to have his back, but they had taken the chance to have a sleepover while the guys were too distracted to interfere with their girl time. He thinks calling Max to ask her to check on Eddie would also count as interfering.

It's not that Steve minds too much. Really, he rarely gets alone time with Eddie, and it's been a while since he's truly checked up on him. After the bats, Steve often went to his place and helped with wound care since he personally knew what he was going through. But as time went on and their injuries slowly turned into scars, it was harder to find excuses to see Eddie alone.

So, Steve settles for seeing him when the kids invite them both to something, and he's started to even hang around during their D&D sessions, soaking in all of Eddie that he can. He still refuses to play, too afraid of the kids making fun of him for getting confused, but he easily gets lost in the campaigns through Eddie's storytelling.

He thinks it's easy to get lost in anything Eddie's passionate about. It may go right over Steve's head, but he would do just about anything to listen to Eddie ramble - sometimes it might just be an excuse to stare at his lips, but no one (except Robin) needed to know that.

Steve nearly misses his turn while thinking a little too hard about Eddie's lips, but he makes it, turning into the trailer park and parking outside of Eddie's place fairly quickly. He sees Eddie's van in the driveway and takes a deep breath, hoping Eddie just somehow lost track of time or something.

Steve quickly rushes out of the car and knocks on the front door, waiting to hear Eddie's footsteps or grumbling as he makes it to the door.

But silence is the only thing coming from the other side.

Steve knocks harder, hoping the neighbors won't start snooping with all the noise he's making, especially when, a few seconds later, Steve decides he has waited long enough and pulls the door open. He quickly closes it and locks it on instinct as he calls out, "Eddie?"

The living room and kitchen are empty, but Steve doesn't hear the shower running, so he quickly bursts into Eddie's room calling out his name again.

His eyes fall on Eddie lying in bed with the covers tucked all around him, but his pale face is slightly visible through the dark strands of hair covering it. The last time Steve had seen him like this was in the upside down when...

"Eddie!" Steve says, rushing to the side of the bed and brushing the hair out of his face. He cups Eddie's face in his hands and nearly shakes him before he sees his brows twitch as he begins frowning.

"What..." Eddie groans out, eyes squinting open.

Steve breathes out a sigh of relief as he nearly tackles Eddie into a tight hug, ending up nearly on top of him.

"Good morning to you, too," Eddie jokes, squeezing Steve back. "Wait, what time is it?"

Steve pulls back and looks down at him. He runs a hand over his cheek, feeling the warmth of it against his palm, a reminder that he's okay. "It's past five, and it's Friday."

It takes a few moments before a look of realization crosses over Eddie's face, his eyes widening as he curses, "Shit! I couldn't sleep last night, and I decided to take a nap around... three? Maybe?" He shifts back on the bed and starts trying to sit up.

Steve places a hand on his chest and pushes him back down.

"Hello," Eddie says as a blush spreads across his face. "This is fun, but I have a dungeon to master," he jokes, showing off his dimples.

Steve nearly forgets how to breathe for a second, but he finally gets it together enough to say, "You and I both know how hard it is to sleep after everything, so if you're able to sleep now, then you're sleeping."

"I'm fine, re-" Eddie yawns and covers his mouth. "Really."

Steve raises his eyebrows at him.

Eddie sighs and turns on his side to directly face him. "Steve, the kids will kill me if I don't do this session tonight."

"And I'll kill them if they give you shit about it. Does tomorrow night work?"

"I mean, yeah, probably but-"

"Great," Steve interrupts as he stands up and grabs the walkie Eddie keeps on a designated shelf. "Hey, Dustin, this is Steve."

"Is it a code red? Over." Dustin immediately replies on the other side.

"No, everything is fine here. We just need to postpone until tomorrow night if that's fine with everyone."

"There is no postponing D&D!" Dustin screeches.

Steve sighs and replies, "If you complain again I'm giving you no rides or money for a month."

There's a long pause from the other side before there's a response, "Tomorrow works! See you then!" Lucas answers.

Steve looks back at Eddie and gestures toward the walkie. "See?"

Except, Eddie is already beginning to doze off again, head nodding and snapping up every few seconds.

Steve smiles and slowly makes his way back to the bed, gently guiding Eddie back down before tugging up the covers and leaning over to press a gentle kiss against Eddie's forehead. "Goodnight."

As Steve begins to move back, Eddie's hand latches onto his wrist. He stares up at him sleepily and asks, "Stay? You need the sleep, too."

And he's right. He absolutely does need the sleep, and there's no way he's going to turn down the offer from Eddie, but... "Eddie, you're half asleep, you don't know what you're asking."

Eddie looks him in the eye and says, "I know exactly what I'm asking, and if I read the signs wrong then sue me."

Steve's heart beats a little faster in his chest. "Eddie..."

"Let's talk about feelings and everything when we wake up, okay? If you don't want to stay, that's okay. But know that I would want you here no matter what."

Steve looks down at him for a few seconds before he turns to take off his shoes. When he turns back, Eddie is smiling and holding the blanket up.

Steve accepts the invitation and finds himself wrapping his arms around Eddie and pulling him against his chest. Steve gently runs a hand through Eddie's hair, only stopping when Eddie grabs his hand and presses a gentle kiss against it.

Steve responds by bending down and planting a kiss on Eddie's head. He smiles when Eddie happily hums.

As Steve focuses on Eddie's breathing evening out, he finds himself matching it and slowly starts drifting off, falling asleep easily for the first time in a long time with happy thoughts of what's to come when they finally wake up.

[gatitties]

Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: forced to abandon your family and being spit out into a world of curses where everyone seems to gravitate towards you

─Warnings: a little angst¿ obsession, toxic behaviors, yandere stuff

Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

The blank pages: Part One / Par Two

ok I had a burst of inspiration and I needed to write also need more platonic yanderes for jjk 😔 (I'll probably write another part because I left out many characters and villains… 😈)

SOMETIMES you think that you had to do something very terrible in your old life, something unforgivable and unimaginable to be punished right now, sometimes you think that the easiest thing would be to bang your head against the wall until you are stupid enough to have a caregiver and stop worrying about many things.

You just wanted to help your parents with the family business, being a time of high demand in the hostelry sector, taking advantage of your school holidays, you loved your family very much and helping in the business was the least you could do.

But the moment a group of children come in screaming excitedly and running from one side to the other you lost your nerve, yes, they are kids celebrating a birthday, but so much activity, noise and annoyance made a vein swell on your forehead, you were reaching the limit, but at least there were only a couple of hours left to be able to close and surreptitiously remove the last people with brooms.

You swore you were losing years and hair, that the minutes passed slower and slower as if you were stuck in an endless hour.

"I think if you keep squeezing the tray like that you'll break it, honey."

Your mother squeezed your shoulder, you turned to look at her, she was behind the bar, cleaning with a cloth while she glanced at you from time to time, she certainly knew how to detect when you were losing your temper, after all she saw you have many crises nervous before.

"Sorry, you know I can't stand so much movement and annoying noises, it's exhausting."

"Oh, I think you can go home if you want, you've done enough for today miss."

A new voice joined in, your father made way with a couple of plates, he left them on the bar to place his hands on your shoulders and rub circles on them, calming you with his touch, you smiled in agreement, your mood improving as you heard that you can go home once and for all, they wouldn't have much work at this hour.

"Don't forget the jacket love, it's already night and it's cold outside!"

"I know mom, bye, love you two!"

You shouted as you were already walking through the door, you waved to both of them before walking out onto the lonely streets, luckily your house wasn't too far from the family business. Without wasting time you grabbed your faithful life companions, your headphones, connecting them to your phone to listen to music at a ridiculously high volume. You let music be your final destination, if you ever suffer an accident, at least it'll be listen to something you like.

Moving your head slightly to the rhythm of the sound, looking at the ground as your legs moved on their own, knowing the way back by heart, you concentrated on drowning out the thoughts leaving your mind blank, it wasn't very difficult since you barely had enough active neurons at this time to have too deep thoughts.

"Huh?"

Some mist came out of your mouth when you felt something tiny cling to your leg, confused, you looked down with a blank look and an imperturbable face, you saw like a kind of fairy-bug, a strange thing was sticking to your leg, looking at you with eyes of a kicked dog. Oh yeah, you started seeing these kinds of creatures, monsters, whatever they are, a couple of months ago when you decided to walk into a 'witchcraft' shop just because a bracelet seemed cute to you.

When you wanted to question the old woman who sold it to you ─after checking that you hadn't spent too much time on the Internet to be hallucinating─ she was no longer there, as if she had disappeared from the face of the earth, no one seemed to remember her except of you.

You grimaced, holding the little thing carefully, pushing it away from you as if you had just taken unidentified food out of the sink after having washed the dishes, without hesitation you threw it like it was a snot, you didn't even hear the squeal that came from it as it crashed to the ground because you hadn't turned the music down.

You continued your path, ignoring how more of those monsters began to appear, larger ones, with more or less human shapes, you didn't know if you had reached the point of emotional exhaustion that you no longer cared about those things, or you were so desensitized to certain things that you barely changed your expression.

"Help… help please… my son- oh- it burns…"

Your feet stopped suddenly, almost falling face first to the ground as you felt one of those monsters cling to your arm like an old woman crossing the street with a helper, looking at you with tears flowing down her cheeks, murmuring things you wouldn't understand if you weren't able to read lips, her hand went higher and higher, absorbing your body in a kind of wrestling-like lock-hug.

If you could you would pinch the bridge of your nose, you started to struggle with the woman, she started screaming the further you got away from her, you cursed silently when you couldn't get her off. This was it, the only thing that bothered you about seeing strange things was that they clung to you as if you were some kind of helper or salvation, you are not a saint, you are not a savior, you were nobody, but they kept coming to you like bees to pollen.

"Looks like you need some help"

You turned your head slowly, dramatizing the side eye you gave to that familiar voice, you heard by chance because of the song change and the small silence, but you could feel his presence for miles. Your frown deepened as you saw the albino look at you with a smile, oh, not only did you have to deal with these curses on your own, as if that were not enough, being one of the few people capable of perceiving these things certain people became interested in you. Sorcerers, it was funny, you didn't believe in magic until you saw this albino lunatic exorcise a curse in front of your eyes, even though you were somewhat skeptical, you refused to attend his institute, but they kept showing up to persuade.

"No, I can take care of this."

"Aw sure, go ahead then, I want to see how you do it."

This time you didn't listen to shit, but his shit eating smile told you everything you wanted to know, you started to struggle with the cursed woman again, it didn't work until you started talking to her. You found it was easier if you tried to give comforts to the poor cursed souls, and you had to do it reluctantly on these types of occasions, removing your headphones for greater concentration. You were terrible at comforting people, so it was like an uphill climb to get that curse to leave you alone.

"And that was ten minutes, you could have done it in twenty seconds if you knew how to use cursed energy."

"Just get lost, I already said no."

"We are offering you free knowledge, how can you refuse it?"

"Aren't public schools there for that?"

"There are no exorcization courses that I know of."

You rubbed your face desperately, you didn't want to learn sorcery, you didn't want to get in trouble, you didn't want to have to comfort anyone, you wanted your simple life, helping your parents, studying, getting a decent job. What kind of future would guarantee you knowing how to control that cursed energy? Clearly nothing good.

"I'm going to put it another way… you attract cursed energy, until now you have been lucky enough to find desperate souls in search of comfort, but what will happen when something much worse is stalking you? Something that seeks blood, your blood."

"Then I'll die, isn't it obvious?"

You raised your thumb with a sarcastic smile, you were too tired to continue a conversation, unfortunately Gojo's next words resonated in your head like a scratched record.

"What if they were your parents? They will not be safe by your side, as I said you attract bad energies."

A lump formed in your throat, letting a shaky breath escape your lips, he watched in silence as he had managed to hit your weak spot, your family, it was something you wouldn't change for the world, they were people who would die for you without a second thought, and just like them, you would give your life for them, they showered you with love and affection, the least you could do was protect them from your own problems.

As annoying as it was to give Gojo an affirmative answer, you had to swallow your pride for a greater reason, and just a week later you were already making the move. Covered as a kind of “Erasmus”, your parents were happy that you were going to explore and meet friends on your own, you wanted to tell them that you didn't want to go, that they would refuse to allow that decision, but that wasn't the case.

Then began what seemed like torture for you, as if you had fallen into a spider web and the more you struggled, the more you got caught in the webs. It was strange, everyone there seemed to have knowledge about who you were and where you came from while you were completely uninformed, it felt strange to be greeted so warmly by unknown people, inside you it was stressful to receive such a degree of attention, but you kept your expression unfazed.

You were like an extension of Megumi, only less expressive and definitely more stupid, you had no thoughts beyond your lost eyes staring into space, nothing made you flinch, nothing made you laugh, nothing made you have a hint of emotion that wasn't nervousness or tiredness. And yet the three first-year students, your classmates, could hear how you tried to drown out your nightly sobs, longing for your home and your family, how you secretly laughed lightly when you saw something stupid on your phone. Why didn't you want to share your emotions with them? Weren't they good enough for you?

You don't know what you triggered by strictly trying not to get emotionally close to people who from one day to the next could be in a grave, just because you couldn't stand it, just because you couldn't stand giving up more parts of your little heart to have them break later.

Itadori started to stick to you like a sticker, are you going for a walk? He needs to stretch his legs, do you want to laze around? He too! He is new to this world of curses like you, so he thinks it is better that you help each other in the face of complications and training. The first time he saw how a curse clung to you for comfort it almost gave him a seizure, he would never think he would be able to exorcise something so quickly, it worried him how used you were to being 'attacked' like that constantly and it only increased his worry, he needed to keep you safe from this dangerous world, it was a promise.

Megumi felt sorry, unlike him you had a normal and happy family, people to turn to, a little envious, he wasn't going to lie, but he tried to make you as comfortable as possible, maybe a little too paranoid about your well-being now that you were a novice unwilling to learn, he felt like he was your big brother, he wasn't going to take an eye off you even for a second, you could get hurt or worse and he had already experienced the bitter feeling.

Nobara was persistent that you open up to her, after all girls should be close, maybe she got too obsessed with that phrase when she watched suspiciously as Itadori dragged you to do something stupid ─against your will but without the energy of to refuse─ and you weren't going with her to have a snack or shopping, she felt a pang in her heart, what if she's not there and something happens? She doesn't trust anyone to take care of you, everyone is inept in her eyes.

Gojo proclaimed himself your fake father, no matter how hard he tried, he would in no way replace the real one, but if he wanted to play the family game you would let him if that made him happy. His attitude was the one that bothered you the most because it made you look like a helpless person at his side, he made you look like you needed him to take care of you. You accepted being the weakest link, but you could fight your own battles, especially after discovering some of your abilities, but he wouldn't allow it, you're too adorable to let go.

After some tests, missions and training, they discovered that your cursed energy acted like an antenna, attracting all curses that wanted to be forgiven or sought freedom. You were cursed with the 'gift' of forgiving and freeing from torture curses that wanted to cease to exist, and you acted as a peacemaker on some occasions. Luck was definitely not on your side or it was kicking you for having laughed at so many other people's sorrows on the internet, couldn't you punch? Kicks? Do voodoo? Summon shikigami? No, you had to pat and release cursed souls.

You didn't have enough suffocating attention from the sorcerers that you also had to have that from the curses. You were going to look for the old woman who cursed you the day you entered her store in another life and you were going to sacrifice her in the name of barbatos.

"Hey there you were! We're going out to dinner, are you coming?"

Nobara opened your door without knocking, you didn't stop looking at the ceiling while you lay motionless in your bed, you shook your head slowly in denial, you weren't in the mood, you were never in the mood.

"Don't talk nonsense, there is no way you can stay here alone, come on, come on! Gojo will pay for everyone."

Itadori entered immediately, pulling your wrist to drag you, you slid off the bed like a dead body, looking blankly at the boy who was giving you a puppy dog look, it wasn't that that made you accept, but if you didn't accept you would pass more time arguing with them in a useless way. You had learned to accept your destiny, you had learned to stay still in that web, maybe if you manage not to move you can free yourself, just maybe.

"I'm glad you decided to accept! It is good to have bonding time with your classmates and teacher, it encourages communication."

You nodded, looking absentmindedly at your phone, scrolling through the screen without looking at anything in particular but not wanting to have to look at the albino's expression, he knew you were going to accept, he knew you were going to go with them because they wouldn't give you any other option. He put his arm around your shoulders dragging you towards the car while he chattered things that went in one ear and out the other.

"Will you sit next to me?"

" No way, she will sit with me!"

And the tug of war began between Itadori and Nobara over who you would sit next to, too stubborn to 'share' if you sat in the middle, they would prefer to be the only ones next to you, Megumi on the other hand was the smartest when entering the first, if he sat in the middle he would assure him that you would sit next to him, however, absorbed in the discussion, they did not notice how you moved towards the passenger seat, end of the discussion and the headache, now you just had to rack your brain thinking about how to solve the fight next to who you would sit at while eating without giving anyone the benefit.

Sometimes you think that you had to do something very terrible in your old life, something unforgivable and unimaginable to be punished right now, sometimes you think that the easiest thing would be to bang your head against the wall until you are stupid enough to have a caregiver and stop worrying about many things, now you had four caregivers but no concussion, for now.

[liillyliilly]

take me home, please? sugawara koushi x reader content; helping out a co-worker when he had a headache really makes you feel like his mom sometimes- aka pure fluff words: 1120

Just how did you end up in these situations? Likely due to who you chose to be friends with.

So as you stood in front of Sugawara’s third grade class, talking about the school library, you couldn’t help but notice the shit-eating grin Koushi had on his face. The exact same face from high school. He had a raised eyebrow, and was jutting out his bottom a little in amusement at your dialogue.

You clasp your hands together, “Does anyone have any questions.”

In the back, Sugawara raises his hand while sitting at his teacher’s desk. You rephrase your statement, “Which of you students has a question about our school library?”

The bug-eyed seven and eight year olds looked at each other for a moment, then just blankly stared back at you.

You slowly nod, embracing the awkwardness. As the librarian at Ohya Elementary School, you weren’t really ever in charge of teaching lessons, you just talked to students about books when they would come for library time during the week. But Sugawara, your high school friend, now co-worker, had asked- no, practically begged- you to come and teach his students about all it takes to be a librarian.

Sugawara stood up, clapping his hands three times and his students copied the motion.

“Alrighty, Rose class, we’re on lunch duty today, go wash up. Make sure to thank our lovely librarian for teaching us a little bit about her job.”

The littles ran up to you, forming a single file line. One would bow, before rushing out the classroom to wash up. You kept repeating small slight bows with just your head. After 20 nods of your head, you felt a little dizzy, but could manage.

“Koushi, if you surprise me with having to talk to your students again, I won’t hesitate to complain to the administration. You’re the teacher, you’re the one who's supposed to teach.” You sit down on one of the little desks, your feet comfortably reaching the floor due to the lack of height to the small table.

Sugawara tucks his hands into his pockets, shrugging. He sits down next to you, on a separate desk, stretching his legs out across the rainbow carpet below your feet.

“I like it when you teach though, your eyes get that mix of fear and excitement.” He chuckles.

“Because your kids are freaking scary!” You whisper-yell, throwing a hand up in exasperation. “Ever seen a seven year old not act like an ankle biter? I don’t think so.”

You shiver a little, thinking about the grubby fingers. But all the students made up for the childish grossness they carried when they would hold a book up to you so you could check it out for them. The way they’d say thank you for helping them find a good book to read, or even when they’d ask to hold your hand when walking into the far back corner of your library. Those were the moments that made your job worth it in the end.

“Still, thank you for teaching a lesson. My headache is still pounding.” Sugawara holds a hand up to his temple, rubbing it in circles.

Even though it had been a shock when Sugawara poked his head into your office a few hours ago, you accepted his request fairly quickly. Because you could see the clenched jaw and squinted eyes he had in reaction to the brightness in your office.

“Mrs. Ito is going to take your class for their lunch duties yeah?” You ask, standing up from the table. Sugawara had asked the fellow third grade teacher to watch his kids for the rest of the day so he could go home to rest up. Mrs. Ito was a very no-nonsense woman, she would run his class like the army, but hopefully tomorrow Sugawara would be able to have an easier day.

You lean forward in front of Sugawara, place a hand on his forehead, and it burns. “Koushi, you’re running a fever!”

You keep your hand on his forehead, using your other hand to cup the back of his neck to tilt his face up to you a little. Then his neck starts to heat up under your fingers.

“Your neck is boiling, are you having a heat flash?” You lean closer.

Sugawara chokes on his saliva slightly, trying to put some space between his face and yours. The smell of your floral perfume, the soft touch of your hands, the criminally adorable nametag you had on your white cardigan, not to mention the baby blue dress you had on. It was all too overwhelming for him.

Clearly the blush was misinterpreted by you, which gave Sugawara some leeway. He put his hands on your hips and stood up, twisting you around so your calves hit the back of the small desk.

“I just need to get home, I think.” Sugawara loosens his hold on you, but keeps his hands hovering around you. Until you shake your head in understanding and slide out from between him and the desk.

“Are you good to drive home?” You grab your purse from the coat hook near the entrance of the class and pull it over your shoulder.

Sugawara sighs a little, putting on his best act to win over your pity. “I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

You frown, sad for Sugawara. He continues putting on his best portrayal of sickness- even though his headache was only a mild migrane and not one that required a trip to the hospital.

He pushes a little further into your friendship with him when he asks, "Take me home, please?"

It had become habit for him now, to request little things from you. He hoped that somewhere along the way, that his requests would endear you to him. Making you like him more and more, even if it was just out of friendly obligation sometimes.

“Ah, well, I can drive you then. Let’s go.” You always found yourself taking care of Sugawara one way or another, and this was just one of the ways you expressed your friendship and kindness for him.

Sugawara follows you to your car like a puppy.

Mrs. Ito has Rose class scooping up rice and putting it onto their peers plates. When she pauses to have the kids swap jobs, she gets a glimpse of you opening the car door for Sugawara through the window. Your head was down and focused on unlocking the vehicle.

Sugawara had his head in his hand, looking at you lovingly as he leaned against your car. Mrs. Ito almost, but didn’t, smile at the way her fellow third grade teacher was acting so twitterpated for the school librarian.

[darkeralmond]

cam cameron and the readers first time?

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST I LOVE U BAE!!

First Time

Cam Cameron x fem! Reader

synopsis: after your date with cam, things escalate when he decides to stay with you at your house

warnings: 18+, smut, first time sex, fingering

word count: 1.3k

a/n: I LOVE CAM SO MUCH!! i’m gonna need AE to come out with team cam shirts ASAP!! also spoiler alert for season 2 episode 4 BUT HAVE U SEEN JEREMIAH AND BELLY OH MY GOD THE HAND HOLDING CAUSED ME TO SCREAMMMM. TEAM JEREMIAH!! mark smut coming out soon!! (i hope)

masterlist | request info

“I can’t believe you beat me in ski ball,” you giggled as you looked over at Cam. “I’m like the reigning champion.”

He shrugged. “Turns out working at an arcade does come in hand sometimes.” You cracked a smile before letting out a snicker.

You were a debutante last year which is where you met Cameron. Both your guys' moms worked at the country club that hosted the ball. You would run into him often because of this. After a while, you developed a little crush on him and had asked him to be your escort since you didn’t have one.

It wasn’t until this year you actually decided to pursue something with him. You finally asked him out on a date and he picked the location, which was the arcade he worked at since he got a discount.

Cam had just dropped you off at your house and refused to let you walk up to your front door alone. He was truly a gentleman who was adorable and he knew it.

You grabbed your key out of your pocket and unlocked the door. “Can I come in and say hi to your mom?” he asked, peeking his head through the open door.

You giggled and looked back at him again. “No, my parents aren’t home.”

“Oh.” He then looked down at his phone, presumably checking the time before tucking it back into his pocket. “You sure you don’t want to come back to my house? I don’t want you to be here alone.”

You shook your head. “No, my dad wouldn’t like me going over to a boy’s house at night.” He nodded his head and flashed a quick smile, agreeing with you. “But you can stay here and keep me company!”

You didn’t even think twice about the offer, you just said it. His eyebrows raised slightly as his cheeks dusted a red tint. “Okay,” he gushed.

You let him into the house before shutting the door behind you two and locking the door. You watched as he admired the interior of the house, his mouth slightly hung open. “What?” you laughed.

“Nothing!” he said as he looked back at you. “Your house just looks like a beach house.”

“Well it is on the beach.” This won a chuckle out of him as he continued looking around. “You want a tour?” you asked as you walked up to him.

“Sure!” he answered as he nodded his head.

You grabbed his hand and led him around the entire downstairs. According to him, his favorite room was the living room due to the fireplace. You then led him upstairs and showed him every other room before leading him to your own room.

You opened the door and led him in. “Here’s my room. Sorry, it’s a little messy.” There was a t-shirt and a pair of socks lying on your unmade bed. You quickly took those off and threw them in your laundry basket.

At least your room smelled good because of the essential oils you had just purchased. “I like the vines on the wall,” he commented as he pointed at them.

You giggled, “Put them up myself.” You then plopped down on the bed and looked at him as he took in every corner of your room. “You wanna watch something? I can pull something up on my Mac.”

He nodded his head and sat down on the bed next to you.

…

You weren’t sure how it happened, but one thing led to another and now you were on top of him making out. You pulled away and looked down at him as his chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths.

“Have you done this before?” he asked. His eyes reminded you of a puppy. There was so much innocence in them and his lashes gave his eyes a more doe look.

You were tempted to lie and said you had, but staring into his eyes just poured the truth out of you. “Uh… no,” you answered. “Have you?”

“Nuh uh,” he said. You licked your lips and looked off to the side. “Do you… uh… want to?”

You looked back at him and hesitantly nodded your head. You could hear the beating of your heart in your ear, the silence between you two was deafening.

“Okay,” he breathed out. His hand met the side of your face before tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

He smiled at you and gently leaned forward to capture your lips in his once more. You sighed against his lips, his touch sending chills down your spine.

Your hands slid up his shirt causing a groan to escape from his lips. He kissed you harder and deeper this time. You could feel his tongue poking at your bottom lip, hoping to meet yours. You let him do so, his tongue danced with his.

You felt his hands run up your shirt, his hands felt cold against your heated skin. It made you shiver a bit but you enjoyed every second of it.

You pulled away again and let him take off your shirt. He stared at your topless body, drooling over your figure.

You gasped softly, your breath hitching when his fingers brushed across your breasts. Your hips jolted as your nipples hardened beneath your bra.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

He noticed your reaction and stopped what he was doing. “Is this okay?” he asked. You nodded your head, leading him to cup your breasts again.

Him touching you felt nice, but you wanted to do more than that. You were just too nervous to ask. You didn’t want to obviously have full on sex, but you at least wanted him to do more.

Your face must’ve given that away because he asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“Uh,” you thought about it for a minute. “Can you… uh…” Your face turned bright red as embarrassment washed over you. “Finger me?”

His cheeks flushed crimson and his eyes widened. He pulled his finger away as he nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. You hopped off of him and laid down on the bed next to him.

His gaze softened and you gave him an encouraging grin. He swallowed hard before he slid his hand down your shorts.

Your breaths hitched as your eyes fluttered close. His fingers moved in a circular motion around your clit. You opened your eyes as you held back any sounds that may escape your lips.

He pulled you back into a kiss, it tasted like vanilla ice cream and mint toothpaste. He moved a little faster, rubbing your clit with his ring and middle fingers until you let a moan slip in his mouth.

He then inserted his fingers inside you, your wetness made it easier for him. Your back arched as you let out a louder moan.

His kisses became more frantic, almost desperate. Every time he moved his fingers or thrust into your depths you would squirm. A small whine left your mouth as your hips bucked upwards.

You finally pulled away since you needed to catch your breath. His fingers sent a wave of pleasure through you. “Cam,” you whimpered. His wet fingers pulled out of you and continued to massage your clit until you finally came undone.

Your whole body felt drowsy but still buzzing with excitement. When your orgasm had passed and your breathing returned to normal you rolled onto your side. “Do you want to do it again?” you asked him with a grin.

He nodded and crawled back on top of you, but before anything could escalate, the sound of jingling keys and the front door opened echoed through the house

“Fuck,” you mumbled. “My parents.” You rolled your eyes.

He chuckled, “Now I can say hi to your mom.” You rolled your eyes and pushed him off you.

[narumi-gens]

Platonic

Miya Osamu x f!Reader

summary: Osamu knows that there’s nothing going on between you and his brother. And yet, he still can’t help but be jealous.

warnings: minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, don't let the summary fool you – this is basically just 4k words of fluff, jealous!osamu, slightly insecure!osamu, married!osamu, dad!osamu, very normal relationship problems, the importance of communication, kita is always the voice of wisdom, osamu is really just a simp for you, reader and osamu are #CoupleGoals

notes: whenever I’m trying to get back into writing, stealing plots from sitcoms is always a guarantee so everything from the title to the banner to the plot is at least 80% lifted from platonic (which is such a wonderful show).

words: 4k

part of the Meet the Miyas series

Osamu is jealous. And he hates it. He hates the word. He hates the feeling. He hates what it says about him. He really hates how irrational it is.

But what he hates most is that the person that he's jealous of is his own brother (that scrub).

But maybe he's the scrub. Because it's dumb. You've been together for years. You trust him. You love him. You're committed to him. You're married to him. You’re the mother of his child. You're happy with the life that you've built together. 

And he knows that Atsumu is your best friend. You were Atsumu's friend before he even met you. Atsumu is the one who introduced the two of you, who set you up — which he'll never stop taking credit for if his speech at your wedding was anything to go by. So of course you spend a significant amount of time with his twin. 

It’s never really bothered him before. If anything, he’s typically relieved that you’re so close with Atsumu. The more you occupy the setter’s time, the less time he has to annoy Osamu. 

And you’re allowed to have friends and a life outside of being a wife and mother. He wants you to have fun and to be your own person outside of your relationship with him. He doesn’t expect you to go from home to work and back to repeat the cycle all over again the next day. Not that you would ever allow it. 

It wasn’t easy and it took a lot of hard work, but over the years, the two of you have built a happy balance between him running the restaurant, you pursuing your own thriving career, being doting parents to a three-year-old son, and still managing to keep your marriage healthy. So this gross feeling of jealousy has no place in his life, especially where Atsumu is concerned. 

But it creeps up on him slowly, needling its way into him before he even has a chance to stop it. He first feels it over something so small that it embarrasses him. 

He asks you if you want to go see a new movie that’s been advertised for months. His mom and yours are always eager to babysit — sometimes eager to the point of forcing you both out of the house for what’s declared “much-needed grandparent time.” 

“Oh, I promised Atsumu that I’d see it with him,” you reply with a slight tilt of your head before picking up your phone. “Let me check with him about us all going together.”

It’s a simple and obvious solution. You’ve already sent your message to Atsumu and are looking up showtimes for that weekend. But there’s a small voice in the back of Osamu’s head insisting that you should be asking him if Atsumu can come with the two of you, not the other way around. The unfamiliar thought makes him feel uncomfortable and he quickly shoves it away.

But just that small, intrusive voice is like a spark and it isn’t long before he finds himself hearing it again, fanning the pathetic, weak flame into something stronger.

One morning, he’s pulled from sleep by the blankets lifting and the mattress dipping. When he cracks open a bleary eye, he sees you doing your best to slip into bed without disturbing him. He can’t check the time on his phone without giving away that you’ve already woken him up. But from the pale grey light of early morning that’s already beginning to brighten the bedroom and the fact that Reiji isn’t already awake, Osamu guesses that it’s between five and six. 

He knows that you had plans with Atsumu last night. You told him that you would probably be back late. But “back late” feels like an understatement considering the joys of parenthood usually have both of you up in about an hour whether it’s a workday or not. 

When you come down a few hours later, the bags under your eyes and unkempt hair point to your inability to sleep in even after what he can only assume was an all-night rager. You pepper your son’s cheeks with exaggerated kisses that have him giggling over his breakfast as Osamu pours you a cup of what he’s sure is much-needed coffee. 

“Ya got home late last night,” he comments as you take the mug that he passes you.

“Ah, yeah. Just ended up going a little harder than I meant to,” you reply and something close to embarrassment seems to cross your features. You glance at Reiji, making sure his attention is on his food before you lower to voice to a furtive whisper. “I threw up in a karaoke room and had to sleep it off at Atsumu’s.”

His immediate instinct is to laugh in your face and he has to bite his lips and quickly look away from you to keep from doing so. You weakly punch his shoulder in response before sitting down at the table. 

But the amusement at your misfortune slowly starts to fade, replaced instead by that same voice, which is growing steadily more familiar. He can’t remember the last time that the two of you had a night like that together. He tries to think back on if it was before or after Reiji was born. And while you certainly don’t make vomiting in karaoke rooms a habit, it’s not at all rare for you and his brother to have a wild night out. 

When the voice asks why you’re having them with Atsumu but not with him, the only thing he can focus on is the knot in the pit of his stomach and how it only seems to grow tighter. 

He hears it again when he’s with Atsumu one day and he asks Osamu what he thinks about you rejecting a new job offer. The question is offhanded — he’s looking at his phone when asks it, barely even giving Osamu a fraction of his attention. 

But Osamu freezes. This is the first that he’s heard about any job offer. He didn’t even know that you were interviewing somewhere else. 

“What job offer?” His voice sounds thin and Atsumu seems to realize that he’s unintentionally stumbled into something much bigger because his thumb stops scrolling and there’s a line of tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there only moments ago. 

“Uh, it’s nothin’ big,” he quickly tries to assure his brother as he puts down his phone and turns to face him fully. “It just happened this week. Some new place made her an offer and she turned it down.”

Osamu merely hums, his expression betraying nothing, but his twin brother knows him too well.

“Look, I’m sure she just hasn’t gotten ‘round to telling ya,” he offers and Osamu can see the slight panic in his eyes. “She had that big meeting. And she’s been lookin’ after Reiji-kun since he’s been sick, right? Things’ve probably just been too crazy fer her to even think about it.”

Every excuse only digs the hole deeper. It’s not just this apparent job that you’ve been pursuing only to turn down that Atsumu knows about. It’s also your hectic work week and how you’ve been taking care of Reiji since the restaurant’s been too shorthanded for Osamu to stay home. 

What’s next? Is he going to mention that you’ve also been so busy the two of you haven’t had sex in almost three weeks? From the guilty look in his twin’s eyes, Osamu would bet good money that he’s already aware. 

On his way home, he tries to think about the best way to raise the subject with you and ultimately decides that there’s no good way to ask, “Hey. Why are ya tellin’ Tsumu things but not yer husband?”

(He knows that’s definitely the wrong way to phrase it, but that little voice won’t say it any other way.)

But when he enters your bedroom he finds you slouched against the headboard, fully passed out with Reiji sprawled on top of you as he clings to you even in his sleep. The light and tv are both still on. You’re obviously exhausted and stretched thin, while Osamu is looking to pick a fight. The guilt he feels is almost crippling. 

It probably hasn’t even occurred to you to mention the job offer with everything else going on. Atsumu is right, which only makes him feel worse. 

He comes toward the both of you and carefully tries to pick Reiji up out of your arms without waking either of you. But he’s only just managed to pry the sick toddler loose when your eyelids flutter open.

It takes you a moment to register what’s happening, still feeling the dregs of sleep, but when you do, you give him the softest smile and it makes him feel like an even bigger piece of shit.

“Did you just get home?” you whisper as you help him lift Reiji off of you. But before he can take your son too far away, you shift over and gesture for Osamu to place him in the middle of the bed. “He’ll cry if he wakes up in his room alone.”

“He doin’ any better?” Osamu quietly asks and does as you ask, gently putting him down before sitting down on your other side on the edge of the mattress. 

“His fever broke a couple of hours ago, so he should be back to normal in a day or two.” The news is a visible relief to you. It’s not just the amount of effort a sick child takes, but also the worry that’s been weighing you down. 

“Wish I coulda been ‘round more to help ya,” he tells you, his guilt about both doubting you and leaving you to take care of Reiji by yourself beginning to peek through.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” you assure him, lifting a hand to run your fingers through his hat hair. “I know that you’re in a bind since Kimura-san quit. I’m the one with the flexible hours and schedule. I really don’t mind. We’re a team.”

He doesn’t deserve you.

“Well, the new part-timer starts next week so things’ll finally calm down,” he offers and something mischievous sparkles in your tired eyes.

“Good. Because when you can finally take some time off, we’re gonna pawn Reiji off on the grandparents. Then you’re gonna make it up to me by spending the entire night making me cum so hard I see stars,” you tell him, your tone leaving no room for argument, as if he would ever want to. 

“I can do that,” he agrees with a grin.

“We haven’t fucked in weeks,” you pout and Osamu can’t hold in his laughter, only for you to slap a hand over his mouth to keep him from waking up Reiji. 

Your own quiet giggles are able to momentarily drown out the small voice reminding him about the job offer that you’ve yet to tell him about. 

But a few weeks later, even after having the house to yourselves for an entire weekend and spending it fucking on every surface that you could like you used to do before Reiji came along, those embarrassing feelings of jealousy are still as present as ever.

You post a series of photos of you and Atsumu at a restaurant. The first picture is of your happy, smiling faces and the matching pair of five-pound gyoza on the table, one in front of each of you. As he swipes through the series, you both look worse and worse as you try to finish your gyoza. When he gets to the final one, you’re proudly holding a certificate from the restaurant for having finished yours in an hour, while Atsumu looks like he’s on death’s doorstep.

He’s so preoccupied swiping back and forth through the photos that when the restaurant door slides open, it startles him so badly that he almost drops his phone entirely. He doesn’t know whether or not to be relieved that it’s Kita coming to drop off a new order of rice rather than a customer who didn’t read the closed sign. 

On one hand, he doesn’t want to deal with a customer while he’s in the midst of indulging that voice that’s slowly becoming a companion. But on the other, dealing with Kita when he’s in a jealousy spiral is even worse.

“Is everything alright? Ya look like ya just got some bad news,” Kita observes with a small frown of concern.

As Osamu assures him that nothing’s wrong, he tries to hurriedly shove his phone into the pocket of his apron. However, it slips from his sweaty hands and skids across the floor of the restaurant where it comes face-up to a perfect stop right in front of Kita’s feet.

He picks it up and when he sees the final picture of you and Atsumu on the screen, he shakes his head in amusement. 

“Atsumu only sent me the picture of them at the start of the challenge,” he wryly says as he slides the restaurant door shut behind him and joins Osamu at the counter. He takes a moment to swipe through the rest of the photos in your post before passing the phone back. “I’m surprised ya didn’t go with ‘em.”

“I wasn’t invited,” he mumbled, vocalizing the bitter thought that’s been taking up so much space in his mind ever since you and Atsumu originally made the plans. But as soon as the words leave his lips, he knows he’s given himself away because he can feel Kita’s heavy gaze on him.

“Did ya ask if ya could join ‘em?” is Kita’s annoyingly reasonable response. After a few moments, Osamu gives the smallest shake of his head, confirming that no, he didn’t ask if he could go with you and his brother. 

“Y’know, yer wife is an amazing woman,” he finally says when it’s clear Osamu has nothing else to offer. “But fer all of her talents, she’s not a mind reader. Just talk to her.”

Osamu groans loudly at how rational Kita is being. He drops his head down to rest his forehead on the countertop, his Onigiri Miya hat flopping off in the process. While he agrees that it’s good advice, there’s still one problem.

“Kita-san…it’s embarrassing,” he protests childishly and he turns his head to the side to look up at his old team captain. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Stop spendin’ so much time with that scrub!’ I’ll sound like an idiot.”

“Just talk to her,” Kita repeats calmly and Osamu can only sigh. “Why don’t ya tell me how Reiji-kun’s been?”

For the rest of the day, Osamu finds himself trapped in an internal debate over whether or not he should take Kita’s advice. The ugly voice in his head insists that he shouldn’t have to say anything at all. If you really love him then you should already know. The more self-conscious part of him keeps warning him of how embarrassed he’ll be when he tells his wife, the mother of his child, the love of his life, that he’s jealous of how much time she spends with his brother. 

But a new voice, one that sounds exactly like Kita, simply asks him if he’s tired of feeling like this. Does he really want to keep harboring this resentment? It’ll only continue to fester and grow until it explodes, hurting everyone he loves. 

So that night, after he’s put Reiji to bed and the dishes are done and the laundry is folded and he has no more excuses left to procrastinate, he collapses next to you on the couch with an exaggerated sigh. You look up at him from your phone with an amused smile, only for it to slightly fall when you see how troubled he looks. 

“What’s going on? Did something happen at work?” you ask, turning to give him your full attention and scooting closer to him so that you can rest a gentle hand on his thigh. 

He shuts his eyes and gives himself a single moment to steel himself before finally letting out the poison that’s slowly been building inside of him for the last few months. 

“I have somethin’ to tell ya and it’s gonna make it seem like I’m fifteen or somethin’,” he says and he knows that if he didn’t sound so serious then you would be making a joke about him having some sort of wet dream and ruining the sheets. Instead, you give his thigh a reassuring squeeze. 

“Lately…fer the last few months…I’ve been feelin’ kinda…jealous.”

There. The words are out there in the world. You’ve heard them. He can go crawl into a hole and wait for the embarrassment to kill him. 

“Jealous? Of what?” 

He hates how concerned you sound. You’re not making light of his admission. You’re not confused. You’re being patient. You’re gentle. You’re so much better than him and his childish pettiness and resentment and jealousy. 

“You and stupid Tsumu,” he grumbles, slouching down even further into the couch. He glances over at you from the corner of his eye and sees the look of surprise on your face. He shuts his eyes again, balling his hands into fists, and tells himself to man the fuck up.

With his nerves now steeled, he takes a deep breath, sits up straight, and turns to fully face you. 

“Look, I know that ya got this weird friendship with Tsumu and that he’s yer best friend. And it’s never been a big deal before, but lately, I dunno…,” he trails off, his gaze darting down before he forces it back up to meet yours. “I’ve just been feelin’ a little…cut out.”

“Osamu,” you murmur, lifting a hand to his face but he quickly takes it between both of his so that he can hold it tight and keep himself steady. 

“I love you and our family and the life we’ve built together. I wouldn’t change any of it fer anything,” he’s quick to assure you, needing you to know that you make him happier than he ever thought he could be. “But sometimes I see ya hangin’ out with Tsumu and havin’ fun and it sounds dumb but, I wish I could see more of that part of yer life.”

You softly repeat his name before you climb into his lap. You wrap an arm around his shoulders to hold him close and pull your other hand from his grasp so that you can cup his cheek with a loving touch. 

“I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel that way,” you tell him. “You’re always gonna come first. I don’t ever want you to feel excluded or like I’m trying to keep the different pieces of my life compartmentalized.”

Just hearing your apology and acknowledgment of the irrational jealousy that’s been plaguing him soothes his insecurities and embarrassment. 

“I want ya to be able to go do things on yer own and do things with Tsumu without feelin’ like ya gotta bring me along every time. But ya just look like yer havin’ fun when yer gettin’ up to stupid things together and I guess, I just wanna have fun with ya too,” he shrugs. Despite how true it is, he hates how cheesy he sounds. But from the way that you’re looking at him with so much affection, you clearly find it touching. 

“I love having fun with you, Osamu,” you smile back at him and his cheeks start to feel warm. “I’d love to do more stupid things with you.”

“Even if that stupid thing is spendin’ 20,000 yen at an arcade to beat a bunch of teens for the high score?” he asks and it comes out shyer than he intended. “Or buyin’ out every flavor of chips and every type of snack from the konbini just to rank ‘em?”

“Even then,” you nod with a grin. “Even if it’s needing to make a cab pull over to throw up after a night of drinking.”

“I thought it was the karaoke room?” he frowns in confusion.

“It was the karaoke room for me. The cab was Atsumu,” you tell him with a laugh and he snorts in response. 

But then, since this is a time for honesty, he decides to bring up the question that’s been weighing heavily on his mind for the last few weeks. 

“Why didn’t ya tell me about the job offer?” he gently asks, the question curious rather than accusatory.

“Job offer?” The line of your mouth twists down and your eyebrows knit together as you try to understand what he’s referring to. 

“Tsumu said ya turned down a job offer. It was around when Reiji was sick,” he explains and his tone turns slightly hesitant. “Did ya feel like ya couldn’t tell me?”

Your eyes spark with recognition before you roll them in annoyance.

“Atsumu’s an idiot. He never listens,” you begin to rant and he’s not too proud to admit that hearing your irritation directed towards his twin extinguishes the last remaining embers of his jealousy. “It wasn’t a job offer. A recruiter reached out about a job opening for a position that involves more work for less pay. I didn’t even reply.”

He feels an odd mixture of relief, guilt, and frustration. He’s relieved that this was just some misunderstanding, but he feels just as guilty for jumping to the worst conclusion and thinking that you were something big from him. The frustration will be dealt with when he next sees his twin and gives him an earful and delivers a slap to the back of his head.

“I’m sorry fer not just askin’ ya ‘bout it sooner,” he says and you just give him a look of understanding. 

“You and me, we’re only human. There are just gonna be times when I forget to tell you something or just don’t think to bother with it. But I’ll always do my best to make sure you know when there’s something going on. We’re a team, remember?” You run your fingers caringly through his hair with a soft smile and he leans eagerly into your touch.

“We’re a team,” he repeats quietly, finding the words comforting. He then gives you a slightly embarrassed look. “Hey, don’t tell Tsumu, okay? He’ll just call me a scrub.”

You place a reassuring kiss on his lips before nodding. 

“Don’t worry. You’re a scrub, but you’re my scrub and I love you.” He can’t help but laugh as he wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you close. “But, you wanna do something crazy, huh?”

When he looks up at you, it’s to find a hint of wildness creeping into your expression. It’s the same wildness he used to see when you first started dating — before you both became adults and spouses and parents with real responsibilities. 

The next day, Atsumu stops by the restaurant in the late afternoon during a lull. His appearance is unannounced, meaning that Osamu hasn’t had a chance to prepare himself for what he knows is to come. It’s as bad as he imagined because as soon as the setter walks in, he freezes, his expression going slack in shock at the sight of Osamu.

Or more correctly, at the sight of Osamu’s hair, which has been amateurishly dyed to be the same shade of grey that he used to wear in high school. 

“Don’t even start,” he warns but doing so is pointless because Atsumu immediately bursts into laughter, finding it so funny that he has to clutch his stomach as he bends over. 

“Who’s idea was this?” he manages to ask in between his gasps for air and his cackles. “Ya look so stupid!”

Osamu just stares at him blankly, not bringing up the fact that Atsumu is the one who’s been wearing the exact same hairstyle since they were sixteen, and isn’t that even more pathetic? 

Because for all of the mocking that he receives, he knows it was worth it for the time he spent joking and laughing with you into the late hours of the night in your tiny bathroom as you did your best to dye his hair without burning his scalp.

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley understands more each day what it means to be Everett's dad. He's ready to do all of the fun father and son stuff, along with the important things that will keep Everett safe and happy. The three of you are ready to become the Bradshaws.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, fighting

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

The white board on your refrigerator had been updated by Everett. There was only one day left until Bradley was going to adopt him, and your body was thrumming with anticipation. The three of you were about to become the Bradshaws, for real.

Your husband made your home so much warmer. His big shoes were lined up next to yours and Everett's inside the front door. His schedule was hanging next to the white board so he knew which days he needed to wear his flight suit. His favorite beer was in a battle for precious real estate against your cold brew coffee. For someone who claimed he never had a real home before this since his mom died, he was doing a great job of making yours even better. 

"We're heading to the park for a bit," Bradley said, wrapping his arm casually around your waist from behind as you made dinner. "We'll be back in less than an hour." He kissed the side of your neck and held you snug against him for a beat. "I love you."

How was living without him ever supposed to compete with this? You turned and watched him take Everett by the hand, and they walked out to the Bronco talking a mile a minute about math homework and batting averages. 

You were trying to make a special dinner, because Molly was coming over with Bob. He'd arrived back in San Diego earlier this morning, and Molly texted you to let you know she was taking Bob home for a long nap, and then they would be over. A long nap sounded like a euphemism for some freaky sex, but you were just pleased that he was back and that Molly was happy. 

Your sister and Bob walked in at the same time that Bradley and Everett returned from the park. "Uncle Bob! I missed you!" your son shouted, running across the living room to his former tee ball coach and perhaps someday uncle. Bob knelt down and collected him in a tight hug. "And Aunt Molly missed you so much. She ate a lot of chocolate and cried sometimes."

You watched Bob glance up at Molly with such a lovesick expression, you had to turn away. "I missed you too, Ev," he replied. "And I missed your Aunt Molly and the baby. I heard you shared your candy with her."

"I did," he said proudly as you walked dinner over to the dining room table. Bradley pulled Bob into a brief hug, and then you kissed him softly on the cheek.

"How was your deployment? Uneventful, I hope?" you asked him with a smile.

"Another woman kissed him," Molly said, casually slipping into her usual seat and scooping food onto her plate as you gasped. "He doesn't understand how handsome he is."

"Mo," Bob groaned, sliding down in the seat next to her while his cheeks flushed pink. "Why are you telling them this?"

You made eye contact with Bradley across the room, and he shrugged, just as confused as you were. "Is everything okay?" you asked cautiously. 

But Bob was kissing Molly's fingertips as she ran her nose along his cheek as if she hadn't just made that announcement to the room. They still looked as in love as they always did, and Molly's face was placid as she started scooping dinner onto Everett's plate. 

"Everything's fine," Bob said, nodding at you. "I had no idea anything like that could even happen. I'll be more proactive in the future."

"Yes," Molly agreed. "No more gray sweatpants on deployments. We both learned our lesson."

"Gray sweatpants?" you asked as you sat down across from Molly. "You wore gray sweatpants in front of someone other than Molly?"

Bob cradled his face in embarrassment, pinching his nose just below his glasses. "I did. I told you it was a bad idea from the start, Honey," he whispered to Molly. 

"You wore them in public?!" Bradley nearly shouted. "Bob, that's bedroom attire."

"I know that now," Bob bit back. "Nothing happened. Nothing else is ever going to happen. Can we eat dinner and stop talking about it?" he asked, wrapping his arm around Molly's shoulder. "I missed being here. I'm happy I made it back in time for Bradley and Everett's big day. I just want to be with my family."

Molly pecked him on the cheek. "You're hot, Cowboy Bob. You can't afford the luxury of making late night friends on deployments. It doesn't matter who they are, they probably want to fuck you."

"Molly!" you growled, tossing your fork down and glaring at her as you nodded to Everett. 

But your son just shrugged. "It's okay. I already heard dad say it before. I know it's an adult word. It's cool."

Bradley noisily dished more food onto everyone's plates as you shook your head at him. "This is delicious, Kitten. Wow, you've outdone yourself. You want more, Molly? Have some more."

You closed your eyes and sighed. Bradley and Molly were more similar than they'd like to think. And Bob was definitely a catch even if he didn't feel like one. And you were too thankful for all of them to put up much of a fuss. "After we eat, let's talk about a game plan for tomorrow."

"Adoption day," Everett said, all smiles for Bradley. 

"I love you, Ev," your husband told him, scooping a little more food onto his plate. You could tell your son would never get tired of hearing that, and neither would you.

--------------------------

"Are you guys nervous?" you asked as Bradley pulled into the municipal parking lot behind the courthouse.

"Nope," Bradley and Everett replied in unison. Bradley was ready for this. Any apprehension he'd felt leading up to this afternoon was related to Danny, but your lawyer assured you that there would be no contest over the state of Everett's adoption. 

"I'm a little nervous," you muttered, wrapping your hand around Bradley's after he turned the key in the ignition. "Why aren't Molly and Bob here yet?"

"We're early, Kitten," he muttered, leaning across the seat to give you a kiss. He turned around to smile at Ev, sitting in his booster seat. They were wearing matching blue dress shirts and jeans, and Everett was holding his Phillies cap. "Hey, kiddo. When I drop you off at school tomorrow, I'll bring the paperwork so they know it's okay for you to write Everett Bradshaw on your homework, okay?"

Everett nodded in response. "And do you think my teacher will change the name tag on my desk? I don't like my old name anymore."

You unbuckled your seatbelt and snuggled against his chest as Bradley said, "I'll make sure it gets changed. It's not going to be an issue."

The three of you sat there for a couple minutes as Bradley rubbed your back. He answered every question Everett asked him.

"What was your dad's name again? And didn't he have a call sign too? Was your mom's last name Bradshaw? How many Bradshaws are there?"

If only they could be here today, Bradley was sure he would get to see his mom doting on Everett. Goose would have been all too happy to spread the Bradshaw name around. He knew his parents would be proud of him. "My dad was Nick Bradshaw, and his call sign was Goose." Everett giggled, and Bradley laughed too. "It's even sillier than Rooster, huh?"

"I like my call sign better than the bird ones," Everett said. 

"Me too," Bradley whispered, registering that you were wiping your eyes. "Goose would have liked it the most." 

"Grampa Goose would have liked my call sign?" Everett asked in surprise, and Bradley nodded silently, taking a few breaths to steady himself. 

"Grampa Goose would have liked everything about you."

"Bradley," you whispered, squeezing him tight. His heart could only take so much before he started crying, too. So he kissed your forehead and wiped your cheeks.

"Let's start heading inside," he whispered. "Molly and Bob will be here soon, I'm sure."

When he opened his door and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, Bradley's eyes met Danny's from several cars away. He tried to ignore your ex husband as he scooped Everett out of the booster seat and set him down. He tried his best to avoid him until everyone went inside. But as you walked around the Bronco and took Ev's hand in yours, Bradley heard Danny laugh sardonically. 

"It's about time. I was worried you were backing out of getting this kid off my hands. I really don't feel like paying child support."

Bradley's vision wavered. He could hear a high pitched buzzing in his ears. He wanted nothing more than to permanently wipe that smirk off of Danny's face as he slammed the driver's door closed. 

"What did you just say to me?" Bradley snarled, rolling his neck as he strolled toward Danny. 

"You heard me just fine," he replied, squaring his shoulders and smirking. "But I wouldn't have blamed you for backing out. She's an annoying handful even without the kid. Should have used two condoms." But when Bradley got right up into his personal space, Danny started to look a little scared. 

Bradley had some weight on him, and he could take a few punches, no problem. His jaw flexed and he curled his hands into fists as he said, "Don't you fucking dare talk about my family like that." 

Chest to chest, he pushed Danny back against an SUV. Bradley could hear you calling his name, panic lacing your voice, but he couldn't stop now. Rage flowed through his body. If Danny didn't punch him, he was most definitely going to be the one to do it. 

"Your family is a joke," Danny said softly. "You tried sleeping with her sister yet?"

That was it. Bradley shoved him with his left hand as he drew back his right fist, but before he could do much of anything else, strong arms wrapped around him from behind and pinned his arms to his sides. Bob's voice was in his ear as he tried his best to pull Bradley backwards. 

"Come on, Rooster. You don't want to do this. Ev is watching."

Bradley let Bob yank him a few more feet away from Danny, and then he turned to see you, Ev and Molly all standing by the Bronco looking terrified. 

"You're not fucking worth it, you piece of shit," Bradley told Danny who was still smiling like a prick. 

"Thanks for giving me the best day of my life," he replied, straightening out his shirt and winking. Bob kept a good hold on Bradley until Danny was inside the courthouse.

"You okay?" he asked, and Bradley shook him off. The thing was this really was the best day of Bradley's life. Or maybe the second best. Either way, he didn't want to ruin it now.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice rough with emotion. And then he was scooping Everett into his arms. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I don't like my old dad," he replied softly, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck. 

"I promise, this is the last time you'll ever have to see him." Everett nodded against Bradley's shoulder as he leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours. "I'm sorry, Kitten."

"I don't want you to get in trouble, Bradley," you said, voice shaky. "He's not even worth it."

"I know," he replied softly, kissing your cheek and nodding at Bob. "He's so horrible, I can't understand how Ev is perfect."

You kind of shrugged and said, "It's like he was never there, Coach. It was like we were just waiting for you the whole time. You were tailor made for us."

Bradley wore those words with pride as Bob held the door open, and he carried Everett inside the courthouse behind you and Molly. He didn't even look at Danny again. Instead he focused on his son and his wife. He let Molly distract him. He kept his arms wrapped around Everett until the judge called them all up to the front of the room. 

And then it was scary how fast everything moved. It was unsettling how easily Danny announced to the entire fucking room that he wanted nothing to do with Everett. He didn't want his own son. Bradley listened to him say, "I contest nothing. I relinquish all of my rights." 

And even though Bradley knew Everett was excited that he was being adopted, those words from his biological father packed a punch. Maybe Everett didn't understand their full meaning yet, but Bradley definitely did. 

When the judge asked Bradley to confirm that he wanted to adopt Everett, he reached for Ev's hand. This perfect kid was looking right up at him with innocent, trusting eyes and a worried expression. Bradley felt your hand on his back, and he could hear you crying softly. 

"Do you want to adopt your wife's child?" the judge asked again.

Did he want to? More than anything. He could hardly believe he was even allowed to do something so grand and meaningful. It was hard for him to acknowledge that Everett wanted him. 

"Yes, I want to adopt you, Everett. I can't wait to be your dad. It kind of feels like I've already been your dad for months and months, kiddo."

That sweet face erupted into a bright smile. "Yeah, it's been a good couple of months, Coach."

Bradley laughed in spite of himself, and he felt your hand drop down to lace fingers with him. "The best. And now it's going to be forever. Yes, I want to adopt you." Then he turned to kiss your forehead before looking at the judge. "Yes, I want to adopt Everett."

"And you'll take full, permanent legal custody?"

"Yes. Happily." He smiled down at Everett before scooping him up with his right arm while still holding your hand with his left. He felt his eyes prickle with the feeling of unshed tears when Ev wrapped his arms around his neck, just knowing he'd be safe and loved. 

"Then I grant Bradley Bradshaw full legal custody." 

Even though Bradley expected to hear those words today, he felt his tears finally give way. "I love you," he whispered, burying his face against Everett. "Thanks for letting me be your dad."

Then Bradley's lips were on yours, and you wrapped your arms around both of them. And Bradley hadn't felt this much love since he was a little boy. He was getting a second chance at having a perfect little family of three. And he'd do everything he could to keep this feeling. 

"Thank you, Kitten," he gasped, letting you wipe his tears away with your soft fingertips. Bradley was vaguely aware that Danny had quickly signed a few papers and turned to stroll out of the courtroom, just going along with his day like none of this was important. But it was important to Bradley. And it was important to Everett. And he refused to release his grip on you or his son as he signed his own set of paperwork a little awkwardly fumbling the pen a bit.

"That's it?" he asked the clerk who collected the paperwork. "I'm his dad now, for real? He can change his last name to Bradshaw?"

And Bradley got the perfect response. "That's it. He's your son."

"He's my son!" Bradley shouted, releasing your hand and hugging a happy, giggling Everett. "He's my son." He carried Everett across the room to where Molly had tears streaming down her cheeks as she held Bob's hand. 

"You know, I'm not even going to call you a turd for the rest of the day," she sobbed, reaching up to give Bradley a kiss on the cheek. "I'm happy for you, Ev," she told her nephew. "We were pretty good before, but we're better with Bradley."

"And Uncle Bob," Everett added, reaching out to give Bob a high five.

"Yes," Molly agreed, "and Uncle Bob." She looked up at her boyfriend with adoration. "I love my family."

Bradley loved this family, too. And he was never going to stop talking about it. And he was never going to set Everett down. And he was never going to stop doting on the two of you. 

"I can't believe you're really ours now," you whispered as tears shone in your eyes. "Officially."

"You're the loves of my life, Kitten. Both of you."

-------------------------

As Bradley settled into a chair at the table with the paper tablecloth and crayons, he kept Everett on his lap. He didn't need to look at the menu. You already knew what kind of pizza and beer everyone liked. When the waitress came to take the order, Bradley added, "And some apple juice for my son, please."

And next thing he knew, Molly was crying in the seat across from him, insisting they were all just happy tears. And then Nat showed up with a bunch of balloons that said #1 DAD. And you kept calling him Everett's father and leaning in to kiss him. 

"Stop, please," Bradley said, holding a napkin underneath the piece of pizza that Everett was eating. He caught the sauce before it dripped onto Ev's lap and added, "I can only take so much before I start crying again."

He had cried in the Bronco on the way to the restaurant. Then he cried harder when Everett asked him, "Why are you crying, dad?" And now he felt those same happy tears once again. 

"I think it's sweet," you told him with a soft smile. "All the tears."

"I'm barely holding it together, Kitten," he whispered, catching more of Everett's sauce on the napkin. "It's overwhelming."

When everyone was finished eating, there was a battle over who was going to pay. Bradley watched everyone pull out their wallets and credit cards, a cacophony erupting about why each person wanted to treat him to his first dinner as a dad. But he stood up, still holding onto Everett. "I want to pay!" he said, letting Everett stand on the empty chair next to him. "Because until very recently, I never knew how badly I needed to treat my family to a pizza night." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Nat, you've been my friend and family for the longest. And I love you for that."

She smiled at him and nodded. "Love you too, Bradshaw."

Bradley reached out a hand to fist bump Bob. "And then Bob became a friend that morphed into family, all because of tee ball. And now I have a sister-in-law who likes to pick on me relentlessly. You better marry him, Molly."

She just kind of shrugged, but Bradley didn't miss the coy smile on her lips. "We'll see."

Then Bradley turned to you and leaned down to kiss your lips. "I never thought I'd have a sister-in-law, because I never thought I'd be lucky enough to get married in the first place. But I love you, Kitten. I'm gonna love you forever. Both of you."

"You're the best thing that ever happened to us, Coach," you whispered, brushing your lips against his again. 

And then Bradley turned his attention to Everett. "But you've made me feel complete, kiddo. A son? On top of everything else? It doesn't seem possible. But I can't wait to do all the father and son stuff."

Then Everett simply said, "I love you, dad." 

"I love you, too."

Bradley paid for dinner and carried his son out to the parking lot. And the whole way home, he held your hand. "What do the two of you think about Disney World for winter break? Or we could go to Phillies spring training? But we don't want to risk missing Ev's cousin being born. So I was thinking a trip to Philadelphia next summer instead? Maybe catch a Phillies doubleheader, meet the Phanatic, and eat some cheesesteaks. Just the three of us."

"Yes!" Everett cheered from the backseat, pumping his fists in the air. "I can get the Phanatic to sign my baseball card!"

"Well?" Bradley asked you as he pulled into the driveway while Everett sang the Phillie Phanatic song. "What do you wanna do, Kitten?"

You unbuckled yourself and crawled across the seat, wrapping your arms around his neck, and Bradley melted into your touch. Your lips brushed his, and he smiled as you said, "Anything. As long as it's the three of us."

------------------------------

THE BRADSHAWS! It has been a pleasure writing and posting this series for the past seven months! I loved all of the comments and reblogs and feedback. Part 33 will be the epilogue! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you for the banner @mak-32

PART 33

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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[luveline]

EDDIE AND ROAN , roan and eddie have a little “argument” theyre both so sad and r fixes everything 🥹🥹🥹

eddie and roan ♡ (almost) step mom!reader

“I can't give it to you,” Eddie says, shrugging, “it's for Christmas.” 

“I hate you.” 

You pick your head up from the book you're reading. Roan crosses her arms over her chest defiantly, and Eddie mirrors her pose. 

“That's not true. If I give it to you now, we won't have anything nice to eat on Christmas day. Then it won't feel special.” 

“Santa will bring more.” 

It's sound logic for a kid, but unfortunately for you and Eddie, Santa continues to be a work of fiction, and so he won't be replacing the expensive Christmas pound cake Roan wants to open. 

Eddie shakes his head. “He brings presents, babe. I pay for the food.” 

“You can buy more.” 

“Roan, I'm saying no.” 

Roan's eyes narrow to dark slits. “Dad, that's not fair.” 

“It is, babe. You can't have everything you want just because you want it, this is for a special occasion. We have to save things sometimes.” 

“Ugh,” she says, frowning deeply at him. She's adorable even like this, and you can't help smiling in your seat, watching her show off. “You suck!” 

“You suck,” Eddie says back immediately. 

Roan drops her arms from her chest. She stays quiet, perhaps hoping Eddie will say sorry, and when there's no apology to be found she takes off running up the stairs, huffing and puffing. The slam of her bedroom door shakes the house. 

You put your bookmark between the pages of your book and let it fall closed. You hadn't expected to get very far. “That's not very nice,” you say. 

Eddie groans and shoves the pound cake under a loaf of bread. “I'm not nice,” he says, dragging his feet to your chair, slumping over you, and shoving his face against your neck. You cradle his head instinctively. “I'm mean.” 

“I heard some guy up north has you on his shit list.” 

“Why doesn't she get that I want to eat it too? I hate saying no. I don't want to say no.” 

“But if you said yes to everything she wanted we'd be destitute,” you say, a sorry softness to it as you stroke his hair. He's very warm where he's pressed against you. 

“I know.” 

“Having a bad day?” you ask. 

“The worst.” 

“Want me to try and fix it?” 

“Would you?” he asks, pulling his head up, his voice full of awe as though it was the most generous thing you could have ever offered. 

“Not budging on the cake, right?” 

He shakes his head. “What will we eat Christmas day?” Eddie smiles hopefully, the doe shape of his eyes emphasised, as is the dark hiding of lashes surrounding them. “Tell her I was totally being cranky because she was cranky too, please. And call me a bitch or something, she loves that.” 

You tuck one of his curls behind his ears in goodbye, taking the stairs two at a time to check on your girl. 

Roan is upside down in bed, feet pointed at the pillow and head curled away from you at the bottom. She's got one sock falling off and her room is an explosion of toys as usual, but what upsets you most is the sound of weak sniffles smothered in her blankets. 

Poor girl. Eddie's repeated insult must've struck a nerve. 

“It's me, Roro. Can I come in?” 

“No.” 

“Just for a bit. We can snuggle or something, I…” You smile at her as she lifts her head. “I could really use one. What do you think?” 

You make yourself at home at the top of her bed. Her double feels like a queen size with just the two of you in the middle. Her sheets are flat and tucked still from the morning, and the springs chirp in protest as she waddles across them on her knees, dropping into the invitation of your open arm with a sniff. 

“Dad was so mean to me…” 

“He said something mean, huh?” you ask gently, bringing your hand to the back of her head. Her curls are thick as Eddie's with the same frizz toward the top of her head, soft and fuzzy to touch. “I think you upset him too, when you said he sucked.” 

“I didn't mean it.” 

“I know. Do you think daddy knows that? I bet he does.” 

She whines under your chin, her cheek sticky where it brushes your neck. “It's not fair,” she cries. 

Her sobs are easily soothed. You shush her, rubbing the flat plane of her back with a loving palm. These tears are a mixture of things, you reckon, hybrid crocodiles —she's not getting her way and she's not happy about that, but there's a real injustice there too. It's hard being little sometimes. You don't get to choose what you want, and you can't understand why, either. 

“Listen, babe, I think daddy was right, and we can't have the cake, because the cake cost money, okay? And me and daddy need money for some other things, like fish food for Lucky, and dinner tonight, does that make sense?” 

“But we have the cake,” she says, irritation seeping into her clumsy inflection. 

“We do,” you agree, pulling her up into your chest for a good squeeze, “but that's because we're trying to save it up. If we eat it now, we might not have enough money to buy it again. Daddy isn't trying to be mean, yeh? Just wants you to have a special day…” You run your fingertip down her back, laughing as she shivers, and again when she giggles. “‘Cos Christmas is so soon! And we're being good. So let's go make daddy say sorry, that way he can be back on the good list.” 

“Am I still on the good list?” she asks worriedly. 

You don't like that she's upset, but you like getting to be her mom. “You're on my good list. Let's go see dad and I'm sure Santa will put you straight back to the top.” 

Roan drags her feet just like her dad did, apprehensive on the way down the stairs and back to the kitchen. Eddie's waiting and pretending he isn't, leant up against the countertop with a candy bar in hand. “It's not cake, babe, but you can still have a treat?” he offers. 

Roan steps forward and drops her head into his thigh. “You're not nice.” 

“You said it first, baby,” he says, but he bends over her to kiss her forehead, the tip of his nose brushing her hair, “but you're right. I'm sorry, you don't suck.” 

“Well. You don't suck either.” 

It sounds like she's asking a question. Eddie smiles up at you, and then he drops his face into her completely and starts whining. “Why don't you love me anymore, Roly-poly? You used to be soooo nice to me.” 

“It's ‘cos I'm hungry.” 

He snorts and passes her the candy bar. “Why do I doubt that?” 

“I don't know… Do you want half?” 

“Better make it a quarter, bub. I think Y/N deserves some for being the best mom ever, don't you?” 

Roan turns to look at you. “How much does that leave for me?” she whispers. 

“Still half,” you whisper back. 

She smiles happily and forces the candy bar back into her dad's hands, demanding Eddie open it and break it up into pieces for her. He spares her the hard work, and everyone forgets about the Christmas cake for a few weeks. 

[thoughtsforsoob]

Hiii!Can I ask for "arguments with txt" with comfort at the end?

arguments with txt

a/n: I just made like a texts version of this so please check out my last post! I will fulfill this request by making a more long form version about what arguments with them are like/about. (I hate conflict. If people are arguing or fighting in front of me, I will run off or just straight up have a panic attack, it's happened before. trust me. witnessing school fights in hs was not kind to me). I hope this is okay too :) hehe you almost got 2 parts in a way. Please enjoy! I’m currently cleaning out my inbox so idk how fast it’ll get done but I promise im doing my best. Thank you!!!

Yeonjun

Argument’s with him are very uncommon. He often time doesn’t take them very seriously that frustrates you to no end. You and him tend to argue about little things which is surprise because you seem to talk out all of the big things you guys go through. It’s very confusing to say the least. He’ll get upset with you for little things like for example: leaving your dish in the sink for later. It drives him up the wall and it really shouldn’t. His tactics for when he’s upset is to just get away from you and ignore you for an hour or two. you already know his habits so you just leave him be. He’s not really good at admitting he’s wrong or that his behavior was pointless but he knows it in his head. Over time, he’ll stop doing things like this but just give him some time. He’s adjusting to being the both of you in the apartment and not just him.

Soobin

it's so hard to argue with him because he will never want to face your issues head on. he's shy in nature so any conflict makes him nervous and he retreats, avoiding talking about it. he would much rather forgive and forget without say much at all. sometimes, though, it's impossible to forgive and forget without saying anything. when those situations so arise, you have to sit him down and talk to him very calmly. he responds better to this type of conversations. anyways, he is very silent when it comes to arguments as well. you can tell he's upset because his responses are so short and cold. the best way to ask him to talk is just asking him straight but with a very calm voice so as to not make him upset even more.

Beomgyu

I would hare to argue with him. He's so unresponsive when it comes to arguments. The only things he does is sit there and listen to you talk to him about what he's done wrong, roll his eyes with a huff and then just spew out all kinds of meant things. He knows what he's saying but he doesn't;t think it'll affect you in the long wrong. During one argument, you were getting on him about picking up his game remote from the couch and putting them into the little box you bought him for all the cables and remotes to are stored in. you also threw in a little comment about picking his dirty clothes off the bathroom floor and he lost it. he said you were lazy and did the same thing too (leaving your clothes behind). he only realizes what he's done when you start to cry right in front of him. he goes nuts apologizing and will def come to his senses when he sees you this way.

Taehyun

he will sit there at argue with you for hours, upon hours, upon hours. he is not going to back down because he hates being wrong. even if he knows he's wrong, he hates admitting it. he always eventually admits his faults but it takes a while. he is so stubborn and it causes quite a few issues in your relationship. something this causes the both of you to fight over the most silly things ever. one of the silliest ones for example was when you were talking about how much you loved in actor in a movie you had watched he'd recently. he insists that it was someone else and eventually he realizes hes wrong but he hates to say he made a mistake. he gives you silent treatment for a few hours and when that time is up, he goes to look for you and tells you to get ready because you're going to get food with him. he is such a mom when it comes to apologizing (my mom loves to mend our issues with a trip for boba or a trip to target where she buys me snacks or a new shirt or something).

Huening Kai

he is just like soobin in the aspect of a relationship. non-confrontational to the bone. arguments trigger his fight or flight and it frustrates him when arguments run too long. arguments with him are always about him putting himself down or not letting himself rest enough when he is clearly exhausted. thats all. you too can usually talk things out due to your extremely close bond but sometimes things get out of hand and you have to get on his case. it usually starts with him coming home in tears and beyond frustrated. this is almost always because he sat in the practice room and read comments left by mean people. or because ehe was struggling with a new choreography. you try to help him by telling him to wash up and get rest but he completely just blows up on you and tells you to butt out. you leave him alone but he realizes his mistake when he see you on the couch, covered with a blanket, watching tv without him. he sits next to you and apologizes. he is not someone who hates being wrong. if he's wrong, he'll apologize with no hesitation.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Steve and Chrissy as two internet-famous chefs/bakers, Steve with a channel focusing on (not always) easy homemade and nutritious meals, Chrissy with a baking channel full of body positivity to spite her mom.

They both get invited to something like Phoning It In from the Try Guys - a baking/cooking competition where they have to guide the actual chefs only through a pay phone. As the TG's show says: "the mind of a chef paired with the hands of an idiot". And the idiots in question are their best friends - Robin and Eddie. Which shouldn't be that bad, but then...they actually have to swap them. And they can't tell them what they're making.

It's a holiday episode so the theme is gingerbread.

Steve is slumped in the phone booth, sometimes covering the receiver and asking Chrisy why, why would her best friend refuse to measure ingredients in anything more precise than "a bit", "a bit more", "kinda enough", "oooh might be a bit too much" and "a fuckton".

Chrissy tries very hard to explain to Robin that artistic expression is an amazing thing, but hot sauce and gingerbread might be too artistic for the judges. Robin disagrees. Chrissy pleads with her and eventually talks Robin into just including some chilli flakes in her batter and not the hot sauce as a topping.

Eddie spends half of the prep time complaining to Steve that a gingerbread house is lame, it should have been a gingerbread castle. Robin agrees.

Robin deciding to give her tiny gingerbread men flannel shirts and spending way too much on decorating them. She runs out of time very soon and just writes "THIS IS FLANEL" into a shirt-shaped blob.

Steve and Eddie shamelessly flirting despite having never met each other and then threatening violence in equal measure to get the other one do what they want. "I bet your eyes are more beautiful than the entire sky full of stars Stevie, also I might have dropped one extra spoon of spices into the gloopy thingy and I don't want to get my hands more dirty than they are so I'll just leave it in-" "Eds, you vile seductress, your voice could charm many a seaman but if you don't get that spicy glob out of the batter I swear I will shave your head."

Robin somehow going from following the instructions into a full rambling mode and before they know it, she's just cutting hipster-shaped gingerbread flanelmen and telling Chrissy nearly her full life story, basically turning the prep into a therapy session. Chrissy listens and nods and just sometimes interjects with "people can be such jerks just because you're different, can you just quickly check that the temperature is still the same? Thank you Robs, now back to that asshole in your uni class-"

In the end, they finally meet at the judging table and present their work, bullshitting their way through explanations of many choices that were made (because the two actual chefs are not permitted to speak, only the great minds).

Steve almost sobs when he sees piped (and very melted) bats on toothpicks around the gingerbread castle, because of course Eddie made a castle. "I meant for that to happen, for the shock value" he announces when one of the bats starts a domino effect and knocks down the rest.

Chrissy's smile gets a little bit stiff when she sees attempted man buns on the gingerbread men's heads - ones which have unfortunately melted and they now have flowing ponytails. Slightly burned.

Steve confidently claims that the reason why his gingerbread house is black and has spires is because his little brother adores Dungeons and Dragons and he wanted to give him a cool prop for the final encounter with the big evil. When the castle crumbles because Eddie didn't bake it long enough, Steve just dramatically stands up and announces that the evil warlock has been defeated. Eddie almost faints behind the screen and unceremoniously asks Robin if that gem of a man is taken.

Chrissy explains how the gingerbread men are wearing flanel in honor of her best friend's uncle who is the flanel overlord. When the judges bite into the figures and taste the chilli flakes, Chrissy earnestly tells them that Eddie's uncle is a man with hidden depths and spicy personality (Eddie chokes on his own tongue at that) and Robin was kind enough to reflect that.

In the end, it doesn't matter who won. Eddie asks Steve (after he tastes the gingerbread bat, gingerbat) if he's still about to shave his head and Steve says it would be a shame, but he can make it up to him by inviting him for coffee. Robin awkwardly thanks Chrissy for listening to her and Chrissy admits she loved her rambling, that she hates it when it's quiet.

It all ends well (except for the gingerbread).

[lqveharrington]

Favorite Surprise | A.W.

summary: You and Lana surprise Aaron when you come home from a doctor’s appointment.

pairing: dad!Aaron Warner x mom!reader

includes: fluff, pregnancy hormones, kissing

a/n: i love my blonde husband 🤍

When you were pregnant with Lana, you never felt the need to throw up in the mornings. You always felt light headed and tired, but you never felt the need to empty your stomach. You always thought throwing up was something that a mother had to go through when pregnant, but your case proved otherwise. When you and Aaron were worried about the situation, you went to the girls about it. They assured you that all was well with you and your child and that sometimes women don’t feel the need to throw up in the mornings. You and Aaron thought it was because you hated throwing up in general, so your mind automatically would never do it unless absolutely necessary.

However, you were thoroughly surprised when you threw up this morning the second you woke up. Aaron was shocked to say the least. He immediately came to your side and held back your hair while rubbing your back as you emptied the contents of your stomach in the toilet.

“Love, what did you eat last night?” He pushed your hair out of your face. His eyebrows were pushed together and his eyes were darting across your face. “Do you remember?”

You shake slowly, feeling a headache approaching. You grab on of his hands and squeeze it, feeling for the pulse. “I ate the same things you and Lana did.”

Aaron sighed and kisses your temple delicately, “Maybe it’s just a stomach bug, love.” He thumbed your hand softly as you flush the toilet. “You’re okay, it’s okay…” He helped you stand, grasping at your hands when you stumbled. “Do you want medicine?”

“Yes, please.” You lean against the sink, needing to rinse your mouth of the horrid taste.

As he left the bathroom — albeit checking you once more before leaving — you let your thoughts consume your mind.

It felt so horrible to throw up in the morning, and you were so glad your daughter didn’t have that effect on you when you still carried her. And your headache that throbbed your frontal lobe just made you more nauseous, but there wasn’t anything you could if it truly was a stomach bug. You would just have to let it pass.

Over the next few days, your nausea wasn’t relenting. You threw up more and more each day. Your mind was reeling at the constant battle of getting up every morning just to throw up. Fortunately, Aaron had been gracious enough to take care of business whilst you stayed home from work, trying to get better from whatever was causing your morning sickness.

You would out that the sickness would only last for the mornings and you would be fine the rest of the day. That meant, you were still able to make sure Lana got to school and back. But the mornings would completely tarnish your mood for the day.

For instance, today you were helping Lana with her breakfast when you ran to the bathroom to throw up. Of course — like the sweet angel she was — she brought you a cup of water to help soothe your throat. She didn’t understand what was happening, but she knew if she saw you in a distressed state that she had to help.

“Mommy, what’s wrong?” She sat on the tiled floor beside you, rubbing your hand in confusion and slight distress. “You’re throwing up a lot now.”

You give her a weak smile and run your fingers through your hair, flushing the toilet. “I’m not sure, baby. I think I have to go to your Aunt’s workplace to check it out.”

“Are you sick?” Lana touched your cheek, something she gained from you and Warner when checking her temperature.

The look in your eyes softened at her action, “Maybe.” You squeeze her hand in reassurance. “But right now, you need to get to school, little miss.”

Like always, you drove Lana to school and pressed a delicate kiss to her cheek before waving her off, smiling as her blonde curls bounced with each step. You sighed softly and drove home. You called the girls on the way home and scheduled an appointment after you picked Lana up from school. They told you that your sickness was definitely not something to worry about.

When she hung up, you called Aaron and informed him of your appointment, allowing him to know that you were going to finally understand what was happening.

“Aaron?” You ask softly as the ringing stops, making you look down at your phone.

You heard shuffling coming from his side before he responded. “Yes, love?” He shifted around some more before speaking again. “Is something wrong?”

You put the car in park and sit idly in the leather seat, massaging your stomach carefully. “I made an appointment with one of the girls. I’m heading to their place after I pick Lana up from school today.” You rub your forehead again, “I’m tired of not knowing what’s happening to me.”

It gets quiet between you two before you pick up Aaron’s voice again, noticing the hesitation underlying the question. “You don’t think you’re pregnant, right? I mean, the girls said morning sickness is usually paired with pregnancy.”

The moment he mentions pregnancy, you think about your symptoms. Sure, you had similar symptoms when you were pregnant with Lana, but you didn’t think throwing up would ever be part of it because of your daughter. You spin your engagement and wedding rings, thinking about the possibility. You wouldn’t be mad at the idea. In fact, you would be elated yet heavily surprised.

“I… I don’t want to rule it out, I should say.” You murmur and move to get out of the car. You rub your stomach subconsciously at the thought. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

You and Lana patiently sat on the examination table, waiting for one of the girl’s to enter. She was telling you all about her day in preschool as you ran your fingers through Lana’s blond hair. She was in the middle of telling you what happened during recess when Sara walked in. Well, her godmother.

“Aunt Sara!” Lana giggled and hugged her aunt’s legs in excitement. She tugged on Sara’s white coat, bringing her closer to you. “Will you help mommy feel better?”

Sara looked down at her goddaughter and rubbed her cheek, “Of course. I’ll do anything to help your mommy.”

You mouthed sorry to her at Lana’s unexpected behavior before smiling. “Sorry for the rushed appointment. I just need to know what’s going on with me right now.”

“No need to apologize.” She helped Lana up onto the table and squeezed your arm in comfort. “Sonya said that if our powers don’t work, it might be something different. We have to run a few tests to be sure.”

Although you trusted Sara with all your heart, you were nervous. What if they were dealing with something new and couldn’t heal you? What if the tests say something horrid? What if—

“Have you tried testing to see if you’re pregnant yet?” Sara tapped her pen on the clipboard, reading your symptoms. “Morning sickness is common with pregnancy.”

You shake your head as you look over at Lana who was reading a book far advanced for someone her age. “Aaron thought the same thing… I thought that it couldn’t be because I didn’t throw up when I was with Lana.”

Sara felt your forehead slightly for any odd temperatures, “It’s always a possibility.” She glanced at your daughter before looking back at you with a newfound interest. “Why don’t you take a test here? We’ll run it for you before we try any other testing incase you may be pregnant.”

You flush red, “Uhm…” You watch as she moves to grab a cup and hands it to you. Looking around, you point down to the cup. “Do I just…?”

“Yup.” She gave you a humorous smile. “This could’ve been avoided if you took a test at home, love.”

Lana whipped her head up at the nickname as you moved to head to the bathroom. “Aunt Sara! You can’t call mommy love! Only daddy is allowed to call her that.” She glared at her godmother, making you stifle a laugh as Sara looked at her with wide eyes.

Sara raised her hands slowly and played into Lana’s thoughts, “Sorry, I won’t do it again!”

Your smile softens as you think about your life with Lana and Aaron. You thought it was impossible to love one person so much. But then Lana came into your life and you found it impossible to share your infinite love with the both of them. Truly, your heart was so full when it came to those two. From the second you met Aaron and the second you met your child, you were too far gone to see how madly in love you were with them and how you hold do anything to protect them.

When you returned with the cup, it seemed as if Lana made up with Sara as she spoke about her school day animatedly. You handed Sara the cup carefully and sat next to Lana, letting her climb into your lap.

Sara capped the cup before grabbing her clipboard and smiling at the both of you. “I’ll be back shortly.” She gave you one reassuring smile before leaving.

You ran your fingers through Lana’s blonde hair for a minute before she spoke up, curious to why you handed her godmother a cup of something.

“What is she gonna do with the cup, mommy?” Lana looked up at you with her bright green eyes, playing with your rings.

“She’s going to test if mommy has a baby growing in her tummy.” You respond softly and kiss her cheek. You watch as her mind processes the information.

“Really?” Her eyes shined brightly before confusion took over. “Wait, how would a baby get into your tummy?”

“Well we don’t know if—“

Sara rushed in the room with a smile on her face, handing you a paper. You took the paper gently and read its contents, eyes widening as Lana gave you another curious stare.

“You’re pregnant!”

You nod softly, hand going to your stomach in joy. “Oh my god…” You look up at Sara before looking back at your daughter. “Oh my god, I’m pregnant.”

Lana squirmed in your lap, not liking that she didn’t understand what was happening. “So… There’s a baby in your tummy?”

You nod again and kiss her cheek over and over again. “That’s exactly what being pregnant means, sweet angel.”

The second you parked the car and unlocked the manor’s doors, Lana came running into the halls, her voice echoing through the gigantic space. “Daddy, we’re home!” She giggled as she held a crème envelope in her arms, looking back to see you walking behind her. “Daddy?”

Aaron responds from his office down the hall, eyes darting across the many papers surrounding his desk. “I’m in here, angel!” His eyes snap up as he hears Lana burst through his office doors, practically bouncing off the walls with how much energy she had. “Did you have too much sugar?” He teased as she smiled up at him, leaning back in his chair. “Why are you so hyper?”

“Because mommy—“

You cover her mouth and shush her. You stifle another laugh at her muffled protests, rounding around the desk to press a loving kiss to Aaron’s lips. He smiled into the kiss and chased after your lips when you parted.

Snapping out of his daze, he raised a brow in your direction. “What was that for?”

“The kiss or this?” You gesture to your daughter licking your hand in silent protest for being shushed.

He shrugged as he took your other hand and guided you to sit on the desk in front of him. “Both.”

You blow him an air kiss and sit on the desk, releasing Lana from your hand and wiping it on your sweater. “I’ll let Lana tell you since she was about to spoil the surprise we had for you.”

The young girl immediately climbed into her father’s lap, holding a pretty envelope in front of his face. “This is from Aunt Sara!” Lana looked back at you and giggled, making you shush her again.

Aaron gives you a curious glance before opening the envelope. When he pulled a paper out, he was slightly confused before flipping it over. It was a sonogram. At first he thought it was an old one of Lana when she was still in you before he glanced at the date in the corner and the small dot in the middle of the picture.

Lana looks back at you again as she saw her father’s reaction change. You nod and Lana grins widely, “Surprise!”

You meet Aaron’s eyes as he looks up at you, tears in his own eyes as you say softly, “Surprise!”

Aaron smiles back at you and holds Lana steady in his arms. He moves to stand in between your legs and bends to meet you in a mind searing kiss, making you squeal in surprise. He separates and rests his forehead on yours, “You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant.” You cup his cheek as he kisses you again and again. You hum and continue, “And I definitely think it’s a boy because of how many times I’ve thrown up.”

He chuckles and continues peppering your mouth in kisses, “Oh god, you’re pregnant.” He shuts his eyes softly before opening them again, giving you more kisses. “I couldn’t love you more

Lana pouts as she doesn’t receive attention from either parents. She taps her father’s cheek, snapping him out of his small spell. “Daddy.”

“Yes, baby?” He parts from your lips and adjusts his daughter in his arms, putting her in between the both of you.

She smiles again when she realizes she has both yours and Aaron’s attention. “Did you like the surprise we had for you?”

“My favorite surprise ever.” He kissed her cheeks as she laughs. “I’m so happy. I’m so happy for mommy. And I’m so happy for you, Lana. You’ll be a big sister.”

“I am happy. I am very happy.” She nods as she processes his words before touching your belly softly. “And I think the baby will be happy too.”

more works of aaron warner found here !!

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[ghoststyles]

Meet Me In Augusta

A quick little check-in for Fairway to Heaven ❤️ inspired by my beefy hunky man at the Masters 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

SMUT. FLUFF. That’s all.

———————————————————————————

When Briar and Harry first got together, she thought she’d won the lottery. A doting, strong boyfriend who puts her needs above his own. He cares for her dog as much as she does, gets along with her family members, and donates to charity regularly. It’s like the heavens handmade him. And yes, the reverse is true on Harry’s part. She’s his dream girl, and the bloody best thing to ever happen to him. But, where he’d truly won the lottery differs slightly:

He won tickets to the Masters.

It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity to attend one of the four major golf tournaments, and when Harry entered his name in the lottery system the year before, he never thought he’d see the day where his bucket list item would be checked off.

Briar is lounging on Harry’s couch, watching old episodes of Real Housewives (NY, obviously) with Gus at her feet and a bowl of popcorn and M&Ms beside her when she hears a completely manly and dignified shriek from Harry’s office. Sitting up in alarm, she opens her mouth to yell back to him, to make sure he’s okay, just as the heavy oak double doors swing open. Shirtless and in his Calvin Klein boxer briefs and socks, Harry sprints down the hall, phone in hand as he leaps over the back of the sofa to stand beside her.

“What on Earth! Harry, you’re scaring me! Is there a mouse? Where are your clothes?” Briar screams, jumping up to crouch on the sofa and cocooning herself in her blanket in case there’s a spider clinging to him.

Harry is laughing maniacally, and every so often an oh my god leaving his mouth. He nods to whomever he’s talking to on the phone as if they can see him before thanking them and hanging up.

He drops the phone, eyes wide and meeting hers. Grabbing her shoulders, he all but tackles her back to the sofa, signaling Gus to bark at him for hurting his mom. They’re on the settee part of the sofa, Harry’s arms wrapped around her, preventing her from moving, even if she wanted to.

“Harry! Tell me what’s going on right now!” Briar’s shrill voice finally brings him back to Earth.

He peppers kisses on her neck before shouting in her ear, “I’M GOING TO THE MASTERS!”

She doesn’t respond, not because she’s not supportive of his enthusiasm, but because she has no idea what that is. Feigning a smile, she replies, “wow, baby, that’s great!”

Craning his neck, his brows furrow when he meets her gaze, a clear indicator she’s confused.

“Birdie, do you know what the Masters is?”

“Mmmm, is it like MasterChef?”

Harry squawks out a laugh, shaking his head, “No, my love. The Masters is one of the big four golf tournaments for the PGA. When you win, you earn a green jacket and become a member of Augusta National in Georgia. And then you get to plan a celebration dinner. Plus, you win like, $3,000,000.”

“Ohhhh, okay, yes. Uncle Patrick has gone to that, I think. He didn’t win, though.”

Harry’s brows furrow even more, a bewildered look gracing his features, “We’ll come back to that later. I have a lot of questions. But, you enter a lottery to win tickets and I won! Otherwise, tickets are almost a million dollars.”

“A million dollars!? The course better be made of solid gold. I can’t even believe the stuff people spend their money on sometimes.”

“Tiger Woods will be there. He hasn’t played in a few years because of injuries. Baby, I could be near Tiger!” he smacks her ass, eliciting a yelp.

He hops up from his spot on the sofa as he looks outside with the biggest smile on his face, running his hands through his not-so-there curls on his head. He’d shaved it a few months ago impulsively; that was a crisis Briar never thought she’d see the other side of. But his peach fuzzy head grew on her.

“When is it?”

“Second weekend in April. Are you doing anything?”

“Me? Why wouldn’t you take Niall?”

“He and Lydia already have a wedding that weekend back in Ireland. I already asked him.”

“So, I’m your second choice!?” Briar smacks the sofa cushion beside her, faking offense.

Harry rolls his eyes, “You didn’t even know what it was five minutes ago, brat.”

She parrots his eye rolling, leaning down to snuggle Gus. They’re quiet for a moment, letting Harry soak in the news.

“Wait, why don’t you have clothes on?”

“Oh, I stripped them off as they were telling me I got the tickets. I was just too excited,” he responds casually, as if the answer is obvious.

———————————————————————————

So the pair is in Augusta, Georgia, watching Harry’s childhood dream come true. The problem? No phones allowed.

To maintain their traditional values, Augusta National banned the use of cellphones. Briar’s lovely boyfriend failed to remind her of this fact until they were in the back of an Uber heading to the course.

“No phones!? I wanted to document this whole experience for you!” She whines, gently squeezing his wrist.

“Thanks for wanting to do that, Birdie, but it’s okay. My generation isn’t addicted to their phones. We like to live in the moment.”

“Oh my god,” she snorts, punching him lightly. If anyone is on their phone too much, it’s Harry. His entire day is determined by solving the New York Times Connections puzzle. What do you MEAN the theme was ice cream flavors without the last letter?

“What if we get separated? How will I find you?”

“Did you pack your leash?” Harry smirks, waiting for her to smack him again.

“H! Quiet,” she snarls, trying not to look if the driver is listening. “Fine. Do they collect the phones or do they just kick you out if they see it?”

“I think they kick you out and you’re not allowed back, ever. There’s also no running. It’s hilarious. When everyone is trying to follow around the big names, it turns into a speed walking competition to try and beat them to the hole.”

She hums, looking out the window at the gorgeous scenery. She hasn’t spent much time down south, but this trip has changed her opinion of this part of the country. They’ve had beautiful dinners at night on patios and taken walks on historic grounds.

“Good news is, the food and drinks are super cheap, and I think you have some French 75’s calling your name.”

“Yesss!”

The Uber turns, the beautiful gates to the course opening as they pull in. The white building before them is gorgeous and neatly kept, embodying the prestige of the entire event. For a moment, she thinks Harry is tearing up. Harry snaps a photo of the two of them in front of the building to send to Niall and Patrick.

He grabs her hand and squeezes gently as he flashes their credentials to the security guard.

“Lead the way, baby,” Briar whispers, linking her arm with his as they stand outside the car, taking it all in.

Like a kid in a candy store, Harry drags her by the wrist, slaloming through the crowds of people as they all try to make it to the entrance.

Harry looks fucking good today. He’s donning a navy blue sweater on top of a cobalt blue golf shirt. His taupe pinstripe pants are pressed perfectly. His fingers are decked out in rings of all different finishes, and his Prada sunglasses fit his scruffy face perfectly.

The finishing touch, his shoes, are what has Briar giggling to herself. His black Hoka sneakers are throwing off the whole vibe. She tried to change his mind as they packed, but we’ll be walking a lot, and I don’t want my plantar fasciitis to come back!

To make the occasion even more special, Briar let Harry pick out her outfits. She knew he’d pick out her lavender sports dress, a classic piece she whips out when they play on weekends so he’s frustrated and thrown off his game. She’s 3 for 4 on this strategy.

Harry loves the way it cuts at Briar’s strong thighs, and shows a little bit of her back. To elevate the look, she tied a white Hermes scarf around her neck just like Daphne! Her shoes are white Vince Camuto sneakers with no support. She knows she can’t whine later if her feet hurt, in fear of hearing a relentless, I told you so!

Before examining his choices in her suitcase, she zeros in on the lack of underwear and bras. She knows he also picked her floor length, black bodycon dress. He’s really pushing the limits of voyeurism with these picks.

They finally make it past security, thankful they didn’t confiscate her purse, a gift from Harry that is just a smidgen too large for their rules. He leads them to the main clubhouse to grab their first drinks of the day, and maybe even a breakfast sandwich.

They start off with mimosas to ease into the day drinking, because Harry is too fucking old for daydrinking and Briar is a menace when she drinks when the sun is up. By their third round, Harry is full on fangirling as all the players buzz around him. He’s allowed to fangirl all he wants, but when she wants to gush about One Direction for a minute, he covers his ears. Eyeroll.

Briar snaps out of her brattiness, deciding she needs some food in her stomach. As they’re gathered on the 8th hole, she starts to “koala” him, as he so lovingly calls it. She wraps her arms around him from behind, laying her chin on his bicep.

“What’s wrong, Birdie? Hungry?”

Briar lightly bites his arm, looking up to meet his sideways gaze. Part of her hates how well he knows her. She slides her hands in his front pockets, making him wiggle uncomfortably.

“Be good,” he says lowly so only they can hear.

“Okay, Daddy,” she says sweetly, smiling up at him. “But yes, I’m hungry.”

Briar can feel him hesitate, clearly conflicted in what to do next.

“Okay, baby, but,” he pauses. “Tiger is at this hole next, and I’d really like to see it.”

Briar slumps, making a slight hmmph sound. She knows better, and knows how important this is to him, so she shakes it off.

“It’s alright, I can go back to the clubhouse by myself. Will you stay here so I don’t lose you?”

“Of course,” he leans down to gently peck her lips, before his head whips around as Tiger arrives at the tee box just a few feet from them, sending the crowd into a chaotic roar. She reluctantly lets go of his waist, crossing her arms over herself as she walks away.

The crowd has only increased as they arrived, and she’s honestly overwhelmed. A staff member nearby can sense her unsettled demeanor, so he asks if she’d like a ride back to the building.

She smiles at him, “Yes, that’d be lovely! Thank you so much.”

Trey, the worker, doesn't say much, but Briar isn’t one for awkward silences. She tells him about Harry, Wynnewood, and how this is a lifelong dream for him to be here. He nods along, visibly recoiling after finding out Briar isn’t single. She hops off the cart as they approach the doors, and waves a friendly goodbye.

Perusing the snack bar, her eyes are bigger than her stomach. She grabs grapes, potato chips, a turkey sandwich, and even a pudding cup. A nice man helps her condense her items into a cardboard box for carrying. She grabs a fresh squeezed lemonade to finish off her deliciously simple lunch.

Slightly tipsy and overly giddy, she finds a bench to start eating. It’s amazing the different walks of life at this event; the die-hards who don’t care about the glamor of it all, and the ones that are here only as a status symbol. It’s honestly nice not having her phone; she’s a little more in touch with her surroundings.

Taking small bites of her sandwich, she’s startled when another man approaches her on the bench.

“Pardon me, miss. Are you Miss Barlowe?”

Taken back, she nods as she swallows her bite, “Yes, can I help you?”

“Mr. Styles is on the line over there,” he points to the hilariously old fashioned phone stand, where 3 mossy green phones hang on the wooden stand. “He just wanted to make sure you were doing alright.”

Briar smiles, patting her mouth with her napkin and rising to her feet, “Thank you so much. Do I have to do anything to connect to the call?”

“Just press # and it should connect. I’ll be right over there if you have trouble.”

She laughs to herself as she approaches and presses the ‘#’ just as he said, “Hello?”

“What are you wearing right now?”

“Who is this?” She plays along.

“Your handsome, charming boyfriend,” he muses.

“I have a few of those, so you’re going to have to narrow it down,” she fakes a sultry tone.

“Briar – come on, you know I don’t like those jokes,” he mutters.

She laughs, twirling the curly phone cord around in her hand, “I feel like Carrie Bradshaw with this phone, talking to one of my boyfriends.”

“Are you insinuating I’m Mr. Big? I’m Aidan at the very least. The good guy.”

“Of course you’re Aidan. But instead, we get married.”

“Yeah, y’wanna marry me?” Harry can’t contain his grin as he looks around to see if anyone can hear him. “I won’t say yes until you come back here and get down on one knee, Briar.”

“In your dreams, Styles. Why’d ya call anyway? I’m just sitting here eating my sandwich.”

“Just missed you. Tiger got a birdie on this hole, so it made me think of you.”

“Aw, you’re cute. You’re the first place boyfriend today. You were in third yesterday, for reference.”

“Glad to hear that. Finish up your lunch and come find me. I’m gonna go to the 17th hole to try and catch Justin Rose. He’s an old friend from home.”

“Okay, I’ll come find you. Love.”

“Love.”

Briar hangs up the phone, the butterflies in her stomach buzzing. Since returning home from California, she’s never felt so secure in their relationship. He’s balancing fatherhood, work and their everyday life with ease.

Readjusting her skirt, she walks back over to the bench, mouthing a thank you to the worker who let her know Harry was calling. She sips on her lemonade, the ice rattling as she finishes the cup. Tossing the remnants of her meal in the trash, she spots the beverage cart girl. Briar smiles as she approaches her, requesting another French 75 and a Casamigos on the rocks for her lover.

The 17th hole is a hell of a lot closer to the clubhouse, but swarmed with people. It’s going to be a needle in a haystack to find him. Briar scrunches her brows, scanning all the kinda old white men with brown hair. Where is her old man?

Panic sets in for a moment, until she feels two hands on her waist, lifting her off the ground slightly and kissing her neck where it meets her shoulder.. She squeals, reaching for her skirt to make sure nothing is showing. He didn’t pack her any underwear, after all!

“There y’are, Birdie. Wish I brought your leash to drag my cute puppy around. Make everyone jealous.”

“They’d think you need to be sent to jail, actually. Were you able to focus in my absence?”

“Yeah, but I missed your hundred questions and commentary. Is that for me?” he asks, pointing to his drink.

“Yes, but you made me spill it on my shirt,” she frowns, her gaze traveling down to the beads of liquid wicking off the fabric on her chest.

Without a second thought, Harry leans down, pressing his mouth to just over Briar’s nipple to suck up the dribbled liquid. Her eyes widened, in disbelief he just did that. She grips the back of his hair, pulling him out of her bosom.

“H! What the hell are you doing? We’re in public!”

“Mm, I know. I’m so hard right now. And thirsty. Saw an opportunity,” he smirks, his grip now around the back of her neck. “Wanna take you to the clubhouse and fuck you dumb.”

“Harryyy,” Briar whines again. Little does he know all he has to do is slip her skort to the side to reveal her soaking wet pussy. She does her best to drag her six foot tall boyfriend to the treeline, hiding themselves from prying eyes.

“Let’s go. We’ll find somewhere safe. Daddy needs you to do a favor for him,” he says low in her ear, his tongue touching her earlobe. “Did I tell you how happy I am that you came with me?”

“I’m happy you invited me,” she places a gentle kiss on his lips. “Love seeing you happy.”

———————————————————————————

The lovey dovey talk is how Briar got HOODWINKED into sucking her boyfriend’s cock in an administrator’s office at Augusta National Golf Course at the biggest event of the year. The door locked, thankfully, but the amount of foot traffic outside the door has Briar’s head spinning, even more than when his tip touches the back of her throat.

Harry lets out a guttural moan, “Oh my – fuck! Such a good fucking girl.”

Briar is pulling out her signature moves; cupping his balls with one hand, tweaking his shaft with the other when her mouth doesn’t cover it, and swirling her tongue along the ridge of his bright red, plump cockhead.

Briar bats her eyelashes and pulls off just as he gives his sign of completion; his left thigh muscle twitching. Harry’s eyes shoot open as he grips the desk to prevent himself from falling over. He was so, so close.

Before he can speak, Briar stands, pushing him to half lie on the desktop, opening his belt and pants wider. She climbs on the desk to straddle him, staring down at him deviously.

“Wanna ride you, Daddy,” she whispers in his ear. She sits back up, pulling her skort to the side to show him her pussy, spasming and begging to be touched. He reaches out to touch her, but she bats his hand away, instead placing her hand around his neck firmly. “Nope. No touching.”

Harry snorts, knowing anytime she’s tried to be in charge, she fails miserably. He knows she’ll be howling for his help in a few minutes. His smug look is wiped clean as she grips his cock again to line him up with her dripping hole. They moan in unison when he pushes through the tight opening as she squeezes him for good measure.

Briar bounces lightly, the skin of their thighs slapping together. She could listen to the sounds their bodies make for the rest of her life. He bottoms out a few times, puffs of air escaping his nose as he struggles to not cum immediately.

She starts to rub at her clit, her free hand coming up to tweak her nipple. His eyes are closed again, so she takes her middle and ring finger that are rubbing and sticks them past his lips. He moans, lapping up the wetness from her fingertips and choking on them a bit. She smiles before bringing the fingers back to her center and continuing to rub.

“Oh my god, baby. You taste so good,” Harry whines. “Want you to come. Then I’ll come in your little pussy. Don’t know how you’ll hold it all in there.”

Briar cries out, seconds away from tumbling over the edge. She leans forward, gripping the desk above his head. They’re making extreme eye contact now, the tension between them palpable.

“I’m cumming, Daddy. I’m cumming. Your cock feels so big in my pussy,” she cries out as Harry feels a tiniest bit of wetness expelled from where their bodies meet. She twitches, barely able to hold herself up. He sits up on the desk to support her and begins thrusting up into her with his hands wrapped delicately around her body, fingertips digging into the plushy skin of her ass and waist. He captures her lips in a deep kiss, her breath stuttering when he rams himself back into her.

The two remain intertwined, reality hitting them when Briar utters words he never thought he’d hear from her.

“Fuck me, Daddy. Fill me up. Make me yours. Wanna have your babies,” she fires off things he can’t even comprehend. “Want you to make me a mommy. Fuck – want it so bad. Fill me up, please!”

Harry’s breath is knocked out of him as he throttles upward, his tip colliding with her cervix every time. As he topples over the edge, he buries himself in her pussy – his eternal resting place, he’s decided he’ll request in his will – and releases his full load into her. He drops backwards, beginning her down to lie on top of him, his pants now hanging around his ankles.

“Oh my fucking GOD, baby. So fucking good for me,” he says into her ear, a shiver running down his spine.

“Love you, Daddy,” she says quietly, her ear pressed to his chest so she can hear his heartbeat racing.

“Love you so fucking much, Birdie,” Harry sighs, petting her back.

Harry smiles to himself. The diamond ring he has in his bag at the hotel is going to make an appearance even sooner than expected.

He’s sure of it.

[g0thc0re420]

Soulmates AU! Growing Pains: Leonard McCoy x Reader

Word Count: 17, 923

CW: age gap! slow burn, cursing, smut (choking), mentions death of parent. Dr. kink.

Synopsis: Maybe this was what you needed. A change of scenery, hopefully a reassignment to some other foreign planet where you could collect more samples. You rubbed the inside of your wrist. Another heartbreak, so far, the worst one of your Starfleet days. Taking a peek just to reassure yourself the mark was still there, still not yet able to make out the half image fully, you dropped your head and sighed. Maybe you were late. You had been in Starfleet practically from birth. Your mom was one of the best captains in recent Starfleet history, or depending on who you asked, she had already found her place amongst the greats, and in some instances even giving Admiral Pike a run for his money. You only hoped you could live up to what she had always imagined for you. You quickly pulled down your sleeve and stood, soulmate be damned, the stars waited for no one.

You traveled through the ranks of Starfleet quickly, as to be expected, and currently stood in front of Admiral Pike's office. You had no idea what this meeting could be about. You were on shore leave from your current assignment and you were hoping to be able to sleep in sometime this next week. You quickly shook those thoughts from your head as you raised your hand to gingerly knock on the door. Stifling your nerves, still feeling like you had been sent to the principal's office. 

“Come in,” called from the other side of the door and you took a breath to steady yourself. Entering the office you were taken aback to see a head of jet black hair already sitting in front of the Admiral. Waiting for his gesture before sitting, the two of you are too close for the formalities of Starfleet at this moment.

“I understand you’re on shore leave at the moment so we’ll make this quick. The USS Enterprise is getting ready to leave on a 7 year voyage, and Commander Spock has apparently waited until this very moment to choose his right hand,” You must have looked extremely confused considering the subtle taken aback look on Spock’s face. 

“I’ve kept quite an eye on you since you joined the Academy.” Spock finally spoke, and you allowed yourself to turn and look at him. “You hold a doctorate in botanical sciences and you wrote your dissertation on how we could take Hippomane mancinella and from removing one gene make a non-poisonous twin that could be used to restore coastal plains.” Spock paused for a second, glancing at Admiral Pike before continuing. “You are also my best friend, and I care very deeply for you. I hope you know that I have chosen you because you are the most logical choice for the job.”

You could feel a flush of heat spread rapidly across your face, slightly bowing your head towards him, “Thank you Commander Spock.” The slight twitch in the corner of his mouth was all you needed. 

“You also made Lt. Commander this year, you’re 24, certainly one of the youngest we’ve had in the current history of Starfleet,” Admiral Pike spoke again.

You looked back at him and cleared your throat, sitting up straighter in your chain, “Youngest to make Lt. Commander in the last 25 years,” a weight sat heavy on your chest as the sentence left your mouth. The real reason for your hesitation. 

“(Y/N) do you even realize how proud she would be of you even if you never joined Starfleet? You have her brains and her heart, and based on what I’ve heard from Spock here you’ve gotten one over on him more than once during sparring exercises.” 

“How long do I have to pack?” 

Three days later, you were before Spock once again. This time in an office of your own and quickly falling into a comfortable silence with the vulcan by your side. Both of your heads buried in your PADDS as you both had to finalize a few remaining documents and double check all incoming reports. You were tasked with helping Spock give out the assignments to everyone who stepped foot on the Enterprise. You painted a smile on your face and made sure everyone was where they were supposed to go. Noticing that your line was dwindling down you looked around for Spock, wanting to double check nothing else remained on your part before the USS Enterprise took off on her adventure. 

“(Y/N)?” A voice behind you half screamed your name and as you spun around your sights quickly fell on Nyota Uhura. You double checked that no one needed your assistance before sprinting over to her and enveloping her in a hug. “I thought you were away!”

“Admiral Pike called me back. I’ve been reassigned.” 

Her eyes widened as she stepped away from you in shock, “No way!” You frantically nodded as she let out an overjoyed squeal while dancing in place, “Thank god I'll at least have you for the next 7 years.”

After making a lap around the ship to make sure there were no stragglers you met Spock again, this time quickly falling in stride beside him and heading to the bridge. Quickly you were introduced to several faces you had never seen, before your eyes fell onto the man sitting in the Captain’s chair. 

A soft smirk fell on his face as he stepped toward you and pulled you into a hug, “Welcome aboard (Y/N). It’s good to have you home.” 

You pulled away from him, suddenly conscious of how many people were watching the interaction. “Thank you Captain. It’s good to be here.” Moving back to stand behind Spock you stifled the feeling of embarrassment that crept up within you. What would everyone think of you after that interaction? He was your boss. 

Pulling out your PADD you read through a couple new reports that had started filing in while waiting for James to finish his speech and by the end of his rambling when Spock looked at his PADD all he needed to do was skim the documents and provide a signature. As he went to comment on the way you gave clear and concise instructions in response to any remaining questions in the correspondence he noticed you were already gone and there was no trace of you on the bridge.

Moments later Spock found you, already diving head deep into the research you couldn’t wait to explore and prepping the built in greenhouse for any future plants that could cause significant problems.

“I see we are quick to begin our work,” Spock mused, hands behind his back as he stepped into what was now a barren tin can. 

“Yes!” You quickly stood from the container you were mixing starter soil in, “If we get to our next destination alive I want to be prepared,” You took a small step closer to Spock, lowering your voice hoping that no one else would hear. “I apologize for leaving the bridge so abruptly earlier. When Captain Kirk hugged me it made me extremely uncomfortable.”

“I understand the sentiment as I also do not fare well to public displays of affection.” Spock gave you that vulcan half smile again before walking over to where you previously were and picking up a pair of gloves.

*******************************

6 months in and Leonard was pissed. You had been a thorn in his side for 34 days now. For the last month he had tried hunting you down, but he didn’t even know where to start looking. Why did the enterprise even need a botanist? It was just one more patient that tested the remaining patience he had left. “Dammit Jim you promised me I would have (Y/N)’s physical exam done by the end of the week!” 

“I was just calling about that, if you want that done you’re going to have to make a house call.”

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because I might have not told them anything about being late for any sort of physical just to mess with you.”

Leonard sighed before bringing both hands up to his temples. 6 months in and he could already confirm he was going to die of a stroke. Jim was going to speed up that process tenfold if he continued with antics like this. There was some sort of virus going around the ship right now, he didn’t need to be making calls to random personal quarters. 

“When I get my hands on you.”

“Thank me later , Bones.” Leonard could hear the devious smile Jim held on his face through the comm and couldn’t help but instinctually roll his eyes as he was then told the two locations he could find you. Checking the time he was certain he would be able to find you at your quarters. He entered the turbolift and in his anger almost ran into Spock.

“Doctor.” Spock gave a subtle nod of acknowledgement.

“Commander.” The air was stiff around them. McCoy, not too sure why he didn’t like the Vulcan, maybe it was the coldness. He was so still in everything down to his breathing. Almost the complete opposite of the way a human reacts.

A lightbulb went off when he suddenly remembered that Spock was a science officer, the blue shirt had been in front of him multiple times this week and Leonard hadn’t made the connection until this very awkward moment.

“Commander Spock, one of the science officers, is late for their physical exam. I tried recruiting the Captain for his help in informing them, but apparently he’s just been playing games with me the entire time. Would you happen to know where I could find Lt. Commander (Y/L/N)?”

He didn’t miss the way the Vulcan’s eyebrows raised as he lifted his head from whatever he was reading on his PADD. Looking maybe a little too close, Leonard could see an almost quizzical look appear on Spock's face. “That is very unlike (Y/N). Some days I fear they may run a tighter schedule than me.” Spock only half spoke the latter sentence aloud, mostly musing to himself. Spock looked at the floor level the confused doctor chose and almost felt pity. Has Leonard McCoy really not met you yet? The thought was somewhat incredulous to Spock. You had to be the clumsiest human he had ever met. Sober you was almost as bad as an inebriated Jim. 

“You’re not going to find them in their personal quarters. I would start at the research library, if you don’t find (Y/N) there, go to the greenhouse.” The turbolift opened and Spock gracefully stepped out, “I wish you the best of luck Dr. McCoy.”

After getting somewhat lost from the library, Leonard finally found the greenhouse. He stopped at the door, not knowing what sort of protocol to follow, so he rapped on the door with the back of his knuckles. There was a moment of silence before he heard you call out.

“Come in,” The first thing Leonard saw when he stepped in was a giant computer system running a constant stream of intel from the plants you had collected on surface missions already. From soil hydrations, pH of the soil, humidity in different areas of the greenhouse. He looked around before seeing a pair of blue pants to his left and there you were, almost completely bent over. He didn’t even notice the trough like planter you were currently digging to the bottom of, all he could focus on was the way those blue pants clung to your body. From the roundness of your ass, his eyes trailed down to your thighs, further down to where your pants just ever so slightly flared at your calves.

“Need some help there Darlin’?

Your head quickly popped out of the planter, the blush you were currently experiencing, exacerbated the redness of regaining blood flow to your head again. Leonard felt his heart skip, his eyes grazed over you before he cleared his throat, “Are you Lt. Commander (Y/L/N)?”

“Yes I am, may I ask-”

“Leonard McCoy, CMO.” he stated gruffly before you could even finish your question, trying to push down the reaction he felt when he made eye contact with you. He didn’t need to feel anything for anyone right now. He had a job to do dammit and that job didn’t involve any sort of personal relationships.

“Oh.” You briefly looked down at your feet, the solid exterior slightly putting you off after the semi-sweet first impression he had going for him. “Well, if the CMO had to come all the way down to the greenhouse for me then it must be important. How can I be of service?” You moved closer to him, away from all the plants, and suddenly he could smell the florals on you. 

Oh god. Leonard definitely didn’t want to answer that last question. The imagine of you bent over that ungodly sized planter was almost enough to do him in. He didn’t know what was going on with him. “You’re late for your 6 month physical, and typically I wouldn’t hunt down a patient over something like this but you’re over a month late and you’re the last one.”

“A month?” You had to keep yourself from screeching, “I am so sorry. I can be up there first thing tomorrow morning? What time would you like me to be at med bay?”

Leonard scoffed, “Are you serious?”

“Very much so. Why would you think that I wasn’t being serious?” You looked up at him, before sitting at your desk and pulling up your schedule. “I’m assuming that 0600 is probably too early,” and Leonard couldn’t agree more, he would need to be wide awake when dealing with you. “I’ll be having my lunch around 1300 tomorrow, does that time work with you Doctor?”

Leonard felt a hitch in his breathing at the use of his title. Breathing has never been this hard for him, even when he thought he was head over heels for Jocelyn, “T-that works just fine with me, and I promise not to take up your entire lunch.”

“I’ll hold you to that Doc.” you winked at him and he watched as you added the appointment into your daily schedule. Leonard cleared his throat once again and quickly turned, leaving you back in the serene peace of the greenhouse. Realizing the time you started packing up your things, making your rounds through the nursery and checking all the levels one more time just to be safe.

***********************

Leonard had a hard time sleeping. You had a 3 minute conversation and yet you were now consuming his dreams. He kept getting pieces of what he saw last night flooding his mind as he had down time in med bay.

Checking your pulse he couldn’t ignore the feeling of your heartbeat increasing ever so slightly. “You sure you’re feeling okay Darlin.?” He couldn’t help but notice the blush that spread across your skin, covering your cheeks and nose. 

His fingers still resting on your carotid, you looked up at him from the examination bed you were currently sitting on, your eyes wide and playful, “I’m not too sure Dr. McCoy, that’s why I came to see you.”

“Is that right?” Leonard mused as he held eye contact with you, his hand slowly moving to grasp your neck, his thumb gently brushing against your lower lip-

“Bones!” Leonard was snapped out of relishing his dreams by Jim, yelling his name and flapping around his arms like he was on fire. Truth be told he didn’t even see his best friend walk in.

“Jim, what is so important that you had to come and bother me during the middle of the day?”

Jim softly slumped in the chair in front of his friend, feigning hurt at the abrupt shutdown of his antics. “So, did you make that house call?” Jim couldn’t help the smile that crept on his face. Being close to the both of you only made it easier for Jim to plan the beginning of his plan. 

Leonard hummed to himself, mulling over the question his friend had asked, “I did, in fact the Lt. Commander agreed to come in for their physical exam later today.” Leonard released almost a half smile as he thought of seeing you again.

“That's all?” Jim had stared at the man before him bewildered. “Bones! I was trying to set you up together! You’d be perfect for each other, and you never know, (Y/N) could be your-”

Leonard could already see where Jim was going with this and he didn’t need another lecture on his love life from Jim, “You know I’ve given up on that, besides…”

“Besides?” Jim waved his hand in the air, trying to coax the last of the sentence out of him.

“She’s only 24, Jim,” he lowered his voice, “What would everyone think of me? They’d never let me speak at the Academy again!”

“Bones, she’s a grown woman who can make her own decisions. Even if nothing happens between the two of you, you could still use another friend. I mean when I’m all you got,” Jim grimaced and shook his head. “It must be rough for you.”

“Thank you for that Jim. Now please, leave my office.” Leonard started on the paperwork he had waiting for him, not even really minding if Jim stayed, as long as he dropped the subject of you.

“Yeah, it probably is time for me to be somewhere else. I’m serious Bones, Maybe just try and get to know (Y/N) outside of the med bay. I think you’d be in for a pleasant surprise.”

Leonard couldn’t help but roll his eyes, ignoring the pit in his stomach as the scenes of you unburied themselves in his mind.

*******************

As much as you tried to focus on the report in front of you, you couldn’t help but think of the gruff doctor who visited you last night. The goosebumps that covered your body whenever he maintained eye contact with you made you want to jump him. A shiver rolled down your back as you were reminded of the southern drawl that hung in the air after he called you that damned nickname. Darlin’. Sighing you ran a hand down your face, trying anything to pull your thoughts away from the doctor who made a special late night trip just for you. 

“(Y/N) is everything okay?” Spock was now in front of your desk.

You let a tired smile hang on your lips and you rolled your eyes as the vulcan was still trying to decipher what human emotion you were feeling, “Just feeling a little worn down with the pace I’ve been holding the past couple months. I should probably try to slow down sooner than later.”

“Did Dr. McCoy find you last night?” Spock was now staring intently as you almost choked on the sip of coffee you were trying to enjoy. 

“I didn’t even know I missed the physical exam, how did you?” You stared back with the same intensity as your vulcan friend, before he finally caved.

“He almost ran over me getting on the turbolift looking for you. Apparently Captain Kirk was supposed to inform you it was due and Dr. McCoy suggested the captain had been avoiding telling you just get one over on our Chief Medical Officer.”

“Sounds like something James would do,” you ended the conversation and Spock was almost at the door before you spoke up again, “Commander Spock, I was hoping to take a few personal days at the end of this week. I can make sure everything is set and running on its own, but it’s…” you hesitated, not wanting to say the words out loud. It was crazy to you, still being affected by a day like this. To everyone else but you, two days from now would just be a regular work day. You cleared your throat, wanting to try to make it through the sentence without unleashing too many human emotions on the vulcan you held near and dear. Forgetting that if anyone understood what you were feeling, it would be Spock. “It’s her birthday.”

“I understand Lt. Commander. I also have times where the pain seems all too fresh. Your personal days are granted,  just send them to me in a formal request so we have the documentation.” You nodded your head in agreement, double checking the time, you were surprised just how fast it passed, and if you hurried, you could bring a coffee for the doctor.

Walking into med bay you held the hot coffee in your hand and smiled at the nurse who greeted you, you recognized her as Nurse Chapel, she did the exams for your transfer to the USS Enterprise. “I have an appointment with Dr. McCoy.” 

She smiled at you from the sign in desk and handed you a PADD to start filling out some general information on. “I am sure glad to see you Lt. Commander, Dr. McCoy has been going a little bit overboard trying to make sure everyone’s physicals are up to date. You’re the last one left.”

“Well hopefully once this is over Dr. McCoy can finally find something to help him relax.” You smiled at her as you handed the PADD back, she led you to a quiet exam room and assured you that the doctor would be in to see you in just a few minutes. You could feel the slight downward pull at the corners of your mouth as you glanced at the cup in your hand. “Please let Dr. McCoy know not to keep me waiting too long, unless he enjoys cold coffee.” Nurse Chapel laughed before patting your hand and walking out of the room.

You didn’t like med bay, hospitals, or anything that had to do with patching people up and hoping you’re fixing them. The white sterile room bringing up feelings of uneasiness. You looked around, setting the coffee down next to the PADD that was already in the room and taking a seat on the exam room bed. Sitting on the edge with your legs dangling you watched the clock on the wall tick. 

After two minutes of staring at the clock on the wall your comm went off. “Lt. Commander (Y/L/N)?”

You knew what it was, you had been eating lunch with Spock every day for the last 6 months. “I’m still in med bay, my appointment was until 1300 so I’m here just a little bit early. I promise as soon as i’m done here-”

Your voice faded out as Leonard walked into the room. “I’ll let you know when I am done in med bay Commander Spock.” Your eyes locked with Leonard as he stood in the doorway to the exam room, politely waiting for you to finish your conversation. Once he had your full attention you looked back at him giving a sheepish smile as he walked into the room. “I made you a coffee. It’s a flat white.” You gave a soft sigh as you revel in your thoughts for a moment. 

Leonard took in a breath when he saw the perfect white dot sitting in the caramel colored foam. “Flat whites are my favorite,” he turned to you as he took the first sip of his coffee. You were sure you were still in a dream when you saw the corners of Leonard's eyes scrunch, followed by a deep hum in his chest. Your eyes flicked down to his torso, admiring how the blue shirt clung to his broad shoulders. Following the lines of his body down you watched how his chest flexed as he turned to reach for the PADD behind him. 

“So, it says here you’re a month due for a physical exam. You’ve been on several away missions in the last 6 months, if you keep going at this pace you’re probably going to have to get a physical every 3 months.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, quickly apologizing once you saw the frown reappear on his face, “My apologies Doctor, it was just funny to me how I mentioned to Commander Spock that I needed to slow down. I’m not as spry as I was in my academy days.” 

Leonard couldn’t help but let out a deep laugh at your comment, “(Y/N) you’re 24, you’re still young and spry.”

“Dr. McCoy I was officially accepted into Starfleet Academy at 12, I have a PhD in botanical sciences and I’m the youngest person to achieve the rank of Lt. Commander in the last 25 years. I haven’t slowed down. I cut my month long shore leave down to 3 days to be transferred from the USS Scovil to the Enterprise. How many away missions have I been on?”

“43,”

“That’s 7 a month for the last 6 months. Honestly, Spock is surprised I didn’t end up down here sooner.”

“So am I, some of those away missions ended up hostile, how did you just dip under the radar?” Leonard was now taking the time to read through most of the reports on file for you. He didn’t even realize you had been on any of these, without any checkups in between.

“My mom was Captain (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N).” The prestige of her name floated through the room and you watched as Leonard took what brief information he had about you and put the pieces together, “I’ve been training in hand to hand combat since I could walk. I am perfectly capable of defending myself with every weapon on this ship. I’ve taken on Spock and won.”

Leonard was now standing in front of you, gently pressing his fingers to your neck, staring at the watch he still wore on his wrist, “What’s the deal with you guys anyway? Ya know the people on this ship don’t know how to keep anything to themselves, they like to whisper.”

“You should have heard what they were saying about Jim and I after he hugged me on the bridge in front of everyone,” you wanted to sigh at the feeling of his skin on yours, a tingling sensation seemed to linger wherever he touched you, “With Spock it’s different. We both have the same mark, like matching same sides, not opposite sides. One night I was studying for the Academy and prepping for my dissertation. I had a few and ended up laying on my balcony outside pondering the woes of life. It was the first time Spock told me I was his best friend, and I made a stupid joke about how we were halfmates. That was 5 years ago.” A fond giggle fell from your lips as Leonard removed his fingers. 

He pulled out his tricorder and started scanning you, “I know it’s weird for people to see a vulcan and a human so close, but that night Spock explained to me that finding someone with the same mark as you was almost as rare as finding your soulmate.”

A scoff fell out of the doctor’s mouth as he motioned for you to lay back, pulling out a hologram screen to run a full body scan, “You actually believe in all that bullshit?”

You could feel a blush creeping up your neck, you felt like you were on fire under his hazel gaze, “Yeah. My parents were, and from what I remember they were always so happy, my dad never remarried. He was her #1.  On and off the ship. I see the same thing in the way Spock and Uhura look at each other when the other isn’t looking. I hear the way Sulu talks about his husband. Besides,” you waved your hand in the air, needed to catch your breath as the doctor held your gaze, “They’re a soulmate, if I don’t find them in this lifetime, I’ll find them in the next.”

You wanted to disappear, watching the look on Leonard’s face morph ever so slightly into a different emotion as you explained yourself. You couldn’t help yourself from flickering your eyes down to his slightly parted lips. Never have you ever wanted to kiss someone as badly as you wanted to reach up and kiss Dr. McCoy right now.

“I guess I’ve never thought of it like that,” Leonard spoke his thoughts out loud while he looked at the reports that had generated in front of him. “I was married, she wasn’t my soulmate, but I loved her. Thought she loved me too. I think she did at one point, but from what I’ve heard, nothing’s the same after you meet “the one.”” Leonard placed air quotes and he turned to look at you, “You’re clear to go. Everything looks great.”

You sat up and Leonard offered a hand to help you down, “Thank you for the coffee, I’ve dreamt of having a coffee that good since we’ve been on this floating tin can.”

You couldn’t help but let a smile grace your features, “Thank you, it feels really great to be complimented on something that doesn’t revolve around my work  for the Federation.”

“Anytime Darlin’” Leonard let go of your hand to open the door, leading you back out to the med bay waiting area.

“I guess I’ll see you in 6 months,” you couldn’t help how your smile slightly faltered as you realized your time with Dr. McCoy was coming to an end.

“If you go on that away mission next week, then I expect to see you much sooner than that.” His eyes scanned your features, his hand still resting on the small of your back.

Thankfully the waiting room was empty and even though it was your second time meeting this man all you could think about was how intoxicating he was. His eyes seemed to drink you up, he smelled like whiskey and spice, like cinnamon and anise, and your back, it was still tingling from where his hand last rested. “Then I promise you will see me sooner than six months, Doctor.” Noticing how Leonard seemed like you hit the pause button after you used the title, it almost looked as if he was short-circuiting. 

You glanced at the time, noticing you only had half of your lunch hour left. Spock! You stepped away from Leonard and smoothed out your uniform. “Thank you for taking the time to see me today, and for informing me last night,” You gave him a soft smile, “Maybe I can bring you another coffee sometime.” 

Your nerves grew as you watched Leonard fold his arms over his chest before you saw a twinkle in his eye, “I think I would like that very much.”

“Great! Sounds like a date!” You called over your shoulder, you didn’t see the way Leonard flinched at the word ‘date, or the way he stared after you for a couple seconds longer than he should have.

**********************************

4 months later and you now had a pretty solid routine going, you and Leonard were spending more time together, mostly due to you. Every Friday morning you would meet him in his office, coffee in hand and the two of you would sit and talk about work, while you approved reports from the following night. This was an easy transition for you, and on fridays you couldn’t meet, it almost felt like you were going through withdrawals until you saw him again.

This Friday was different. The previous night you ended up spiking a fever along with a few other symptoms like chills and nausea. Spock knew you didn’t like the med bay but he also trusted you enough to know he wouldn’t need to restrain and carry you up to med bay, unlike the Captain. So he sent you away and let you know to contact him in the morning about how you were feeling.

From the second you opened your eyes it felt like someone had laid a 50lb dumbbell on your skull. All lights and sound hurt, even the dim lights around the floor in your cabin had you digging around, looking for a pair of sunglasses. You reached for your comm, “Commander Spock, are you awake?”

“Lt Commander, you know you can call me Spock when we are off duty.” There was a brief moment of silence before he started speaking again, “(Y/N) why are you whispering?”

“I have a migraine, and while my fever is gone for now, the nausea hasn’t subsided at all. I’m calling out sick today.” You chuckled as you reminisced the last time you fell ill during the course of your friendship with Spock. It was the week before you graduated with your PhD, he didn’t believe it when you didn’t show up to class at the Academy. He came home, expecting you to be out, prematurely celebrating your success. Instead he found you quite literally on death’s door. Meningitis, you had ignored the symptoms for about a week, something that Spock continuously lectured you on during your multiple day stent in the ICU. 

“If it gets any worse, I promise I will have you come drag me to med bay if need be.” It took all you could not to wince while you tried to smile at Spock through your comm, hoping he could hear the smile in your voice and not worry too much.

“I look forward to your recovery (Y/N), I don’t know how long I can handle Jim by myself.” The vulcan let out a very human sigh, and you felt a twinge of guilt roll through you as Spock went silent on the other end. 

“I promise Spock, I’m not going to let a migraine and some small stomach bug take me out. I’m resilient.” You turned off your comm before pulling the sunglasses off and laying back down in your bed, already exhausted just from walking across the room. You slowly sank back into your sheets, pulling both a pillow over your eyes and your comforter past your head, trying to drown out any ray of light that could attempt to sneak in.

******************

Leonard was becoming worried, you weren’t ever late for your friday coffee meetings. That’s what Leonard considered them. Meetings, you sat together, always drinking a new drink or new coffee from some of the friendlier planets in the solar system. Leonard was amazed when you told him about the multiple coffee plants you had in the greenhouse, hoping to one day be able to cultivate them. They were meetings, always revolving about what the other did the previous week or what new thing was currently bogging down your workload. Leonard was a gentleman, he wouldn’t consider the friday morning coffee ritual as a date, he had never formally asked you on a date, and at this point it was clear to him you didn’t seem very interested in taking this friendship any further than that. Just friends.

He debated walking back out into the waiting area to see if you were there. You didn’t even sign in on Fridays anymore, after the first couple weeks you would just walk into his office, coffee in hand, PADD tucked to your side. His thoughts were brought back to the conversation you had last week.

“Morning,” You greeted as you walked into his office, Leonard immediately noticed you looked off. Leonard didn’t know if he could tell because he was trained in recognizing the signs of when someone was sick or if he had just been around you enough to notice the subtle differences. You hair was thrown into a low bun, you seemed to be more slouched and you looked as if you were walking through mud. 

“Mornin’ Darlin’” Leonard echoed your sentiment back as you pulled one of the chairs from in front of his desk so you were sitting right beside him. A yawn pulled itself from you as you sat the mugs down on the desk. 

“It’s hot chocolate today,” you looked down at your hands, suddenly bashful at the thought of disappointing him with no coffee in sight, “I just don’t think I can handle the caffeine today, it’s practically the only thing I’ve consumed the past 4 days and I wanted something to make me feel better,” you were almost whispering at the end of your sentence. 

Leonard wrapped his arm around you as laid your head on his shoulder, finding solace in the crook of his neck. You were so still and quiet he could have convinced himself you had fallen asleep if it weren’t for the feeling of your eyelashes brushing the exposed skin of his neck every couple of seconds. He noticed how pale you looked, the dark circles forming under your eyes. 

He wanted to lecture you about taking care of yourself. You should know how much sleep you should be getting, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He knew it wasn’t what you needed. He was okay being your comfort at this moment, Lord knows you’ve done it plenty of times for him. Sneaking into his quarters after hours to listen to him rant after a particularly long day, He fell asleep on your lap once, he awoke to a note from you. It was an emergency, some ensign removed the wrong plant from the nursery and potentially exposed the entire staff in the greenroom to a noxious gas the plant emitted when it wasn’t mature enough to be transferred out of the nursery.

“Len,” You mumbled against his neck. He couldn’t help the way his heart swelled at the nickname. He hummed in response to you, “I grew the cocoa beans used to make that hot chocolate and if you don’t drink it I might actually cry from exhaustion. He couldn’t help the involuntary chuckle that bubbled out of him. He grabbed his mug as you sat up again, taking a sip, it was the best hot chocolate he had ever had the pleasure of drinking. He watched as you pulled out your PADD, checking the cameras in the greenhouse, before standing abruptly. 

“I have to go. I’m so sorry but if that ensign is about do what I think he’s doing then I could lose almost a year's worth of research!” You moved so fast you forgot all about the hot chocolate, leaving your favorite mug on his desk. 

Leonard still had the mug, he hadn’t been able to find an appropriate time to drop by your quarters to return it, but he also didn’t want to intrude on your work. You always made sure to come in before the med bay opened and unless you were getting back from an away mission, you didn’t hang around the med bay waiting for the chance of a quiet moment with Leonard. It was quite pleasant for him actually. Knowing that you could both go off and do your jobs, before reconnecting with each other gave him confidence in your relationship, friendship. He means friendship. 

Leonard wiped the tired from his eyes once again before stepping out of his office. Ready to take on the day, his light just slightly dulled this morning without his ball of sunshine bounding through the door before his work had to begin. Today was going to be a long day. He grimaced, his frown deepening and the lines on his forehead etching themselves a permanent figure of the day. 

**************************

It was finally lunch time, and Leonard had made up his mind hours before that he was going to use his lunchtime wisely and find you. His first stop was the green house, a couple of science officers were around as well as a handful of ensigns. He had walked the perimeter of the greenhouse, not finding you anywhere, not that he needed to look. Most of the time he just knew if you were somewhere. He was always able to find you. Even at the lavish holiday party the captain held for everyone Leonard was able to find you within minutes. He stayed by your side the whole night. He even danced with you a couple of times.

Lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice he caught the attention of Commander Spock until it was too late. “Dr. McCoy, is there anything I can help you with?” 

McCoy had a sinking feeling in his gut when he lifted his head up and saw Spock sitting at your desk, reading down a thorough check list to be completed by the end of the day. “I’m just looking for (Y/N). We usually do coffee in the morning on Fridays but they didn’t show up today. At all. Usually they’ve already contacted me and we would have rescheduled.” Leonard was still unsure how much he could trust the Vulcan so he wasn’t willing to go into further detail than that.

“(Y/N) has told me about the early morning rendezvous with you. They greatly appreciate them.” Spock straightened himself, separating the emotions from the conversation. “Lt. Commander (Y/L/N) is sick. I sent them to their quarters yesterday after they developed a fever. Today they told me their symptoms were a migraine and nausea. They are extremely prone to migraines, most days the Lt. Commander can just work through them,”

“(Y/N) is sick?” It’s not that Leonard didn’t believe the vulcan but he had even seen Spock sick during this last year on the ship, but you hadn’t even visited med bay once with even a case of the sniffles. Hell, because of Jim, even he had to be quarantined at least once in the last three months, “Any other symptoms I need to know about?”

“Not that I am aware of Dr. McCoy. However it seems the Lt. Commander’s migraines have become slightly more frequent in the last couple of months.”

Leonard took a mental note of what the vulcan was saying and his next mission was to get to your quarters. He had noticed last week you didn’t look like your usual self, now he was kicking himself for not pushing you to get checked out. He let his emotions for you get the better of him and he just focused on finding you. He was the CMO. He shouldn't be letting romantic emotions cloud his judgment when it comes to patient care.

Arriving at your door, Leonard gave a brief knock, waiting in the silence of the corridor to hear you call out, but there was no response, he tried his comm, “Lt. Commander (Y/L/N), Commander Spock informed me you were sick, I’m here to just make sure you’re doing okay.” No response, remembering the last time your comm went silent, a shudder ran through Leonard. 

Another away mission, Jim said he confirmed the planet was abandoned, the only forms of life the Enterprise found were plant and animal life. Of course that turned out to not be the case and soon everything went to shit. Leonard already had his hands full with red shirts needing stitched up when everything stopped. 

Jim and Sulu bust through the med bay doors, your limp body being held up by the two of them, “She was walking just a few seconds ago, but now she’s limp!” He watched Jim’s pleading eyes flickering around for anyone who was available to help. Spock was following behind and when it seemed like Jim and Sulu were about to lose their battle with supporting your dead weight, Spock stepped in and scooped you up. Cradling you in his arms like a child.

Leonard couldn’t do anything for the first 30 seconds, watching the way your body just hung there, no movement from you except the extremely quick and labored breathing you were exhibiting. He fully didn’t know what he was doing until he just left the red shirt sitting in front of him, having one of the nurses continue the stitches he was currently working on. When he finally reached you, it was hard to determine what blood was yours and what wasn’t.

Spock laid you on the closest open bed and Leonard began scanning you, with not only his tricorder but his eyes as well. He placed two fingers on your neck and closed his eyes, ignoring the tingling that started small in his fingertips and worked its way up his arm. Your pulse was strong and the sense of relief Leonard felt was strong enough to clear his head, though he still had to focus to not drop to his knees. 

Looking at the PADD with your scans, he had to have looked visibly confused, because both Spock and Jim had tried to peek over his shoulder to read your medical information on the device in his hand. “She has no external injuries, and I can’t find any internal bleeding. What happened out there?”

Jim spoke first, “It was an ambush, they were waiting to show themselves until we hit the ground. (Y/N) had already made a break for the treeline, she was looking for a specific plant. They came out of nowhere, and Scotty was trying to beam us all out but he couldn’t get a steady signal on (Y/N). They were engaged in battle, 3 on 1. It didn’t stop until she-” Jim suddenly stopped his account of what happened on the foreign planet, almost too afraid to finish his sentence. 

“We were finally able to get a steady signal and beamed them to the transporter, only after Lt, Commander (Y/L/N) had been thrown into a tree,” Spock finished for the Captain.

“I could have taken them if Scotty and Chekov hadn’t been yelling in my ear the entire time.” You slowly opened your eyes, bracing yourself for how bright the room surrounding you would be. “And it was 4 on 1 James.” There it was again, you were the only person who could get away with calling the Captain by his government name. 

The breath Leonard didn’t know he was holding released as he made his way to your side, “From what I heard, you kicked ass down there.” 

A sheepish smile was your response, he didn’t know why, but he needed to be close to you, he would have sat down on the bed and pulled you into his chest if he didn’t have his current audience. “You hit your head pretty hard (Y/N), and while it doesn’t look like a concussion I want to see you back here in 3 days just to make sure nothing else is going on.”

Leonard was pulled back into the present by your door opening, and there you were, gorgeous. Leonard couldn’t help the small smile he felt when he looked down at you. Noticing the way your messy locks fell around your face and the out of regulation pajamas you were wearing. The dark circles under your eyes more prominent now than they were last week.

“Len, what are you doing here?” You shielded your eyes from the brightness of the hallway. Wincing in pain when you tried looking up at him.

“Spock told me you were sick. I came to check on you.” A soft shrug from him and he didn’t miss how you seemed too tired to even roll your eyes at your boss for ratting you out to the CMO. You motioned at him with your hand before turning and walking back into your quarters. 

Leonard had never actually been inside your living space until now, and he couldn’t help but feel immediately at home. Photos hung on your walls, photos of you from medical school, at the academy, there was one that caught his eye immediately. You and Jim, while both younger than you are now, were instantly recognizable. Jim was holding you on his shoulders, you held your PhD in your hand. Your joy in the photo emanating into the real world. Then he saw it, your mark. 

Perfectly placed inside your wrist, he stepped closer, he could hear his blood swishing in his ears as he finally put two and two together. There it was, staring at him. He now had proof that his entire life you had been the one he was waiting for. An uneasy feeling sank over him. He just needed to push everything down. He was a doctor, he had a job to do, and he wouldn't let this discovery change anything.

**********************

You watched as Leonard looked around your small apartment, he was currently observing the photos on your walls. You were tired, you laid down on your couch and pulled a blanket up past your head. Your migraine now just a dull throb at the back of your skull. You could now hear Leonard shuffling around your kitchenette. When you finally pulled the blanket down you could see him standing in front of you.

There was a mug in one hand, and a tricorder in the other. “Leonard, I promise I’m fine. It’s just a migraine.”

Leonard scoffed before setting the mug down, “According to Commander Spock, your migraines have been more frequent lately, he also mentioned a fever and nausea.”

“Spock can’t keep his damn mouth shut can he?” You replied before moving into a sitting position and allowing the doctor to scan you. You hummed as his hand brushed across your wrist, immediately finding the spot to check your pulse.

“I was worried about you, ya know,” Leonard softly spoke. “When you didn’t show up this morning I knew something was wrong,” his sentence ended in a mumble of words. You couldn’t help but reach up and place a hand on his cheek. 

“I apologize for making you worry, Doctor.” This time, you could feel his jaw slightly clench and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. 

“(Y/N),” you noticed he was closer now, hovering mere inches from your face. 

“Yes Leonard?” You could hear the catch in your breath as you spoke. His breath fanned across your face, the mintiness from brushing his teeth still lingering. The proximity of being so close had your heart going crazy and you couldn’t seem to think straight. As quickly as the moment started, he ended it. Pulling away and tucking his tricorder into his hip. 

“Well, everything seems fine, and nothing is broken.” He made his way to your door. “Drink the tea, and take it easy for the next couple of days,” and with that he opened the door and walked away.

******************************

You hadn’t seen Leonard for two weeks, even on your last away mission he had someone else do you exam. He wouldn’t even come out of his office while you were in med bay. The daily throb in your heart of the rejection didn’t stop your stride but it definitely slowed it. You were second guessing yourself and you couldn’t seem to focus unless you had someone else to hold you accountable. You slept more these days, not being able to stay late in the greenhouse for the fear that your mind would start to wander and then you had your heart breaking all over again.

Sitting in the mess hall with Spock at lunch you were approached by an ensign. A yellow shirt, and when you looked behind him, you could see Sulu intently watching the interaction unfolding in front of him. “Lt Commander (Y/L/N), I was hoping I could invite you to the party we’re having tonight.”

You smiled up at him, intending to find a way to gently let him down, when the unsuspecting doctor walked into the mess hall, and you couldn’t help but smirk, motioning him closer to you, you decided to just be honest, “Listen kid, I’m sure you’re great, but someone already has my heart.” You watched their face slightly falter, “However, they’re too stubborn to admit it, help me make him jealous and I think I can talk to the Captain about your incredible performance.” 

You weren’t expecting the quick nod of their head or the salute they sent your way from the table, keeping the smile on your face, you couldn’t help but laugh as Spock finally made eye contact with you. “I don’t see how you attending a party with a member from the flight crew could in any way make Dr. McCoy jealous.” 

You could hear the ensign talking to Sulu as Dr. McCoy passed their table, “She said yes!” The ensign looked back over at you and waved, you made sure an enthusiastic smile was planted on face as you waved back, pretending not to feel Leonard’s glare boring into you as you turned back to Spock, “Just like that Commander Spock.” The vulcan couldn’t help the sigh of disappointment. Why must the two of you make things so complicated?

       “Lt. Commander, wouldn’t it just be easier to tell Dr. McCoy, how you feel about him?” 

     You sighed, eyes bouncing around the room before landing down at the plate of replicated food in front of you, “I wish. He’s been avoiding me for 2 weeks now. Hell, the other day I helped another science officer to med bay and he wouldn’t even look at me,” you shrugged your shoulders before collecting your belongings, “I think maybe I should turn my affections elsewhere as Dr. McCoy has made it clear to me that he would no longer like a friendship with me, let alone a romantic relationship.” You turned on your heel, already done with the conversation and quite frankly done with the way your thoughts were constantly brought back to the man who wanted nothing to do with you.

     You didn’t even see Leonard approach your table at the end of your conversation with Spock, determined to outrun the wave of emotions you could feel rising up in your chest. 

******************

    The party was great, it really was, but you felt so out of place. Parties weren’t usually your thing and the ensign who asked you to the party quickly forgot about you as soon as you defended Spock in the middle of a heated conversation. Sulu ended up having to coax you away from the group as the insults toward your best friend kept coming, and you quickly rolled up your sleeves. 

“Hey, you’re okay, anyone who really knows Spock knows that he’s actually a really great guy.” Sulu rubbed your arm as he led you to the bar. “Plus, it would be a little uncomfortable to end up in med bay right now.”

You scoffed and could help the incredulous look you gave him, “I wouldn’t have ended up anywhere but my cabin. The best part is none of them would have even known who I was until Captain Kirk inevitably got involved, and I also know that James would throw himself on top of a live grenade for me.”

Sulu couldn’t help but roll his eyes at you before handing you one of the drinks he ordered, “You and the captain are close too?” 

“Yeah, he’s like an older brother. My mom and his dad were close, so he was over all the time when we were younger, he’s the one who pushed me to apply for my doctorate degree and even filled out a couple of applications behind my back, and he protected me more than once from creeps when he would sneak me into the bar with him.” You downed another drink the drink and looked at the crowd opposite of where you currently were, “I could still take him,” 

“How many of those have you had tonight?” Sulu nodded at the empty glass in your hand.

You shrugged, setting the glass back down on the bar, “I lost count about 30 minutes ago.”

The comment earned you another laugh from the man beside you and suddenly your comm went off, “Lt. Commander! It’s great to see you here!” Your head suddenly turned into a swivel as you scanned the party, looking for the biggest pain in your ass you had ever met. Someone grabbed your shoulder from behind you and reflexively threw them over you to the ground, before placing a foot on their chest to keep them on the ground.

The laugh that followed had smoke coming out of your ears and suddenly you were a teenager again, “Chekov! Don’t do that!” You couldn’t help but stomp your foot on the ground, “I could have hurt you!”

“Did you just stomp your foot? Are you throwing a tantrum right now?” You helped Chekov off the ground and you noticed how he had been grinning the entire time.

“How am I supposed to get any peace on this ship when I have a gaggle of men I have to constantly keep from killing themselves?” You feigned anger and dramatically threw your hand back to your forehead. 

“Well, who else would keep us in check if we didn’t have you?” The puppy dog eyes from both Sulu and Chekov broke past your resolve and you pulled both of them into a hug. Kissing both of them on the top of the head before pulling away.

“Who’s gonna take care of you when I’m gone? I’m 25 now, in my prime, someone could wife me up right now and I’d be whisked away in a flurry of love and babies.” You watched the horror spread over their faces and you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself.

Chekov quickly dropped to one knee and you couldn’t help the feeling of embarrassment that filled you, a pit in your stomach forming and even with the threatening look on your face, the ensign didn’t move off the ground, “Well, if you’re going to get married, I think we both,” he paused and nodded at Sulu who couldn’t help the comical smile on his face as he stared at the scene unfolding in front of him. “Would prefer if you did get married that you wouldn’t be whisked away from us.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the first real laugh you had experienced in weeks, and soon you were laughing so hard you had tears pricking at the back of your eyes, “You’re really taking marrying up to a whole new level,” you dropped into a squat, resting your body weight on your balls of your feet as you got within eye level of your friend, “You’re drunk Chekov, you wouldn’t remember this in the morning if you wanted too.” You gently pushed on him back by his forehead, as you expected Chekov, who was extremely drunk for this early in the night, fell backwards. What you didn’t expect was him flailing, grabbing you, and throwing you down the stairs from the bar after him. 

Everything that happened next was in fast forward as a group of people were on both of you, you could feel your face flush with embarrassment. As swiftly as the embarrassment settled, the overstimulation was sudden and you were going to freak out. There were too many people, people were trying to touch you, some trying to help you up, and everyone was speaking at once. You closed your eyes, you could feel an ache in your head, and something warm in your hair. You could hear James shuffling through the crowd, using his captain's voice to part the sea of swarming people. 

“(Y/N) are you okay?” You were lifted to your feet, wincing as he put pressure on your shoulder. James instantly repositioned the way he was supporting you. You quickly looked around and saw Chekov, he came bounding over to you as soon as you were up.

“Chekov, are you okay?” You reached up and started inspecting him, which earned you a laugh.

“I just tucked and rolled!” He spun in front of you as if to prove his point. 

“Yeah,” you suddenly noticed the pain in your shoulder was growing, “Wish I got a heads up,” you couldn’t help but laugh with the ensign and you rested most of your weight against your longest known friend. 

“(Y/N) you’re bleeding. From your head. We gotta go.” 

You looked up at him, trying to pull your best puppy dog eyes through the growing pain, “But James, it just got fun!”

“Remember when you said that after your commissioning?”

You groaned, you had been trying to forget about that night since it happened, you got drunk. Totally wasted with James at a surprise party he threw for you , cheering you on and even challenging you to go shot for shot. You fell off the second story balcony, thankfully into bushes, but nevertheless walked away with a concussion and a pretty nasty bruise that consumed most of your lower back. “Fine, let’s go.”

*********************

Jim regretfully walked you to med bay, he wondered if this is what he put Bones through everytime he got sick or injured, “What is going on with you tonight?”

“I really don’t want to go to med bay and I really really don’t want to see Leonard McCoy.” You automatically imitated the grumpy doctor, even furrowing your brows like he would.

“I thought you two were friends?” What had he missed, the last time Bones had talked about you, he thought the two of you had something, it was the most he had seen his friend smile in, well, the entire time he had known him.

You bellowed a dry, sarcastic laugh, “Yeah, me too.” You looked away from him, suddenly more interested in the floor than the conversation you were having, “I thought we could have been more,” you whispered under your breath. 

Jim stopped walking, turning your head so he could look you in the eyes, “(Y/N), Bon- Leonard is a complicated man. He doesn’t always know what’s best for him right away. Even when the best thing to happen to him is right in front of him.”

You shook your head, trying to break the look Jim was giving you, “No, it’s my fault. I thought he was going to kiss me. I read the signs all wrong, and now he hasn’t talked to me in 16 days, and now I’ve ruined a perfectly good friendship.” 

Jim wiped away a tear that started sliding down your cheek, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. You gently sobbed into his chest, trying to be quiet in the corridor with a few people still bustling around you. His heart breaking at seeing you this heartbroken. He had been there for other break ups, most of the time you rationalized it, even to him. 

‘It wasn’t meant to be’ was after Chandler, a snotty rich kid who tried desperately to buy his way into your pants. He tried using his dad’s rank to intimidate you, trying to use the power of someone else to make you do what he wanted. Even after you had broken things off, there were some nights you would still sleep on Jim’s couch, afraid to go back to your dorm. He wasn’t a problem for you much longer.

“She just wasn’t the one,” was after Savannah. Someone who you remained in contact with to this day. You were there when Savannah got her dream job, she thanked you in her speech when she graduated top of her class, and most importantly you were her daughter’s godmother. Every shore leave, every break from school, you made her and her family one of your top priorities. Jim had even seen you leave study groups or parties just to go spend time with her.

“My soulmate is still out there,” Was after Ashton. It had been a few years, Jim thought you guys were happy, but then came the inevitable. You stormed into his apartment, not even bothering to knock as there was nothing Jim was going to be doing that you hadn’t seen at least once already. He was married. You were humiliated, you didn’t go out unless you were going to school for weeks. Beating yourself up for not knowing. Jim had to remind you countless times that it wasn’t your fault, you had no idea of knowing that this man was married, hell Jim even did digging of his own after things got serious and he couldn’t find anything. 

He couldn’t help the look of pity he gave you as you pulled yourself out of his chest, wincing at the pain as he released you. “Whatever happened to the girl who could rationalize these things? Your other half is still out there,” he said softly.

More tears welled up in your eyes. You shook your head again, more violently this time, as if trying to shake the tears away. He couldn’t help but empathize with your sorrow. He would have put the pieces together himself if you had given him time, but you spoke again. “James, he is the one. And now he won’t even look at me.”

Jim’s eyes widened in disbelief. Never in the entire time of knowing you did he think you would ever say those words. It was supposed to be the two of you, lone wolves for the rest of your lives. “You really love him, don’t you?” he asked, pulling you into his side. You nodded, and he kept his arm around your ribcage for support, careful to avoid putting pressure on your shoulder. “And you should probably try to stop crying before we walk through that door.”

**********************

Walking into med bay, you couldn’t help but feel mortified at how you must look. You could feel the blood in your hair even more now, and you couldn’t even bear to lift the arm with the damaged shoulder. Not to mention how the makeup you wore for the night probably looked after you cried into James’s chest. You quickly glanced at him, stifling a laugh as you pointed at the mascara stain on the dress shirt he was currently wearing. 

“You think that’s funny?” You watched as he dramatically tried to wipe the makeup off his shirt. “Ya know, this better win me some brownie points.” 

You laughed harder at the comment, “Speaking of brownie points, I promised the ensign who asked me to the party that if he helped me make Leonard jealous I would put in a good for him with you.” You couldn’t help the dreamy smile that fell on your face just mentioning him, “Then he said Spock was an asshole and now I think we should just shoot him out into the void of space.”

“I forgot how mean you get when you drink.”

“Who else do we have tonight?” You didn’t want to turn around, the southern drawl in his voice was something you didn’t even notice how much you had missed until this very moment. You wanted to cower behind James, you wanted to run and hide. You wanted to beg James to turn around and patch you up in your quarters. Before you could speak, James did. 

“Well, I decided to throw a party and things got a little out of hand. The Lt. Commander was practically thrown down a flight of stairs. I think they have dislocated a shoulder and they’re bleeding. From the head.” 

You couldn’t stop yourself when you jabbed an elbow into his ribcage, pushing through the pain to let him know how you felt, “I’m fine, I just hurt a little bit.”

James poked you in the shoulder, using the littlest bit of pressure, causing you to rear back and stifle down a groan of pain, “You asshole!”

You didn’t miss the sigh or the eye roll from the handsome doctor in front of you, and now you were pissed. You were trying to have a good time tonight, and yet absolutely no one was able to take him off your mind, and now here you were, standing in front of him, looking like a complete mess, “Listen, you obviously don’t want me here, and quite frankly I don’t want to be here, so if you could just put my shoulder back in place so I can go away, that would be great.”  You sighed before turning away from them and finding the closest open bed, “Stop looking at me like that James, I can feel your eyes in the back of my head.” 

You couldn’t hop onto the bed without jostling everything that hurt, so you chose to plant yourself in one of the visitor chairs beside the bed. Your head resting back against the wall, closing your eyes and trying to prevent the tears trying to escape, the pain now moving toward the range of extreme and you finally touched your head. Pulling it away to inspect your fingers, there was the blood now sticky. You sighed, annoyed with the fact that showering after tonight was going to be hard.

********************************

Leonard pushed through the privacy curtain and for a couple of moments he just looked you over with his eyes. Jim had told him what happened. The thought of Chekov proposing, no matter how fake, seemed to enrage him. The thought of you with any man did that to him, not to mention the blatant flirting in the mess hall the other day. He wanted to track down the ensign who asked you to the party down, give him a piece of his mind. He wanted to let the ensign know that he shouldn’t be hitting on his woman.

But you weren’t his, were you? Jim let him know about the conversation in the hallway, how you cried after telling him how long it had been since he had been icing you out. Has it really been 16 days?  Jim told him he needed to fix it. Leonard wasn’t sure he could. How would he even go about letting you know that the only reason he was acting this way was so he didn’t break your heart. He was damaged, and had too much baggage for someone as sweet as you. He didn’t want to ruin you.

Looking at you now though, past the injuries of the night, Leonard realized that his way of trying not to cause you any harm was actually doing the most harm. Your eyes were closed, but still slightly puffy and tear streaks had etched their way onto your cheeks. The blood in your hair now drying and matting your hair together. From just looking at your current posture he wasn’t too concerned with any broken bones, but he suspected Jim was probably right about the dislocated shoulder. 

He cleared his throat to get your attention, watching closely as your eyes slightly opened. He didn’t miss the glimmer in your eye as you finally looked at him, and when you held his gaze Leonard let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. The need to be close to you reared its head again and it took all of his self control to not sprint the short distance to you. He sat on the med bay bed so he was closer to eye level. He didn’t really know what to say. 

“Hi,”

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open at his opening line choice. “Hi? Are you fucking kidding me? Hi?” You threw your good hand in the air, wincing from the sudden change in posture, as you whisper screamed at him. The both of you knew there was an extremely high chance Jim was trying to eavesdrop on the two of you.

“What else am I supposed to say?” Leonard almost couldn’t believe himself, who says hi?

“Maybe, I’m an ass for not talking to you for 2 weeks but let me stitch up your head.”

“I am sn sss.” 

You huffed, sitting up straighter, “Or maybe, it looks like your shoulder is dislocated, let's get it back into place and get you out of here.”

“If that’s what you want me to do.” 

“Of course I want you to fix me! Why else would I drag myself down here?”

So you wanted to fight, Leonard could do that, “Oh, so you have to drag yourself down here?”

“Right now, yeah? I literally have no other choice!”

Leonard wanted to smirk, “So you only wanted me because you had no other choice?”

You gasped and looked at the ground, “You know that’s not what I meant.” 

Leonard stood, grabbing the PADD he had with him, “I’m not the one who said it.” 

“Yeah, and I’m not the one who made me fall in love with you.” Leonard froze, just barely able to hear you, you had dropped into a barely audible whisper. Leonard didn’t know if it was from fear of saying it outloud or hoping he wouldn’t hear it.

“Yeah, well what are you going to do about that?”

He watched as your head snapped up, and if looks could kill Leonard was sure his head would have exploded right then and there, “You’ve obviously already made your choice, so maybe just get me the hell out of here and transfer my care to someone else. That way you'll never have to see me again.”

He sighed, not really wanting to do this now, but it looks like he was going to have no other choice, “(Y/N)-”

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it, now please, just fix me enough so that I can go back to my quarters and shower, I need to get this blood out of my hair.”

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m serious-”

“If you would shut up you would know that I’m in love with you too!”

Leonard had never raised his voice at you before, and the look on your face made him regret it instantly. He crouched in front of you and cradled your face in his hands, “I am so head over heels for you Darlin’” He looked into your eyes, searching for anything other than the rage they currently held, “It scared me. That night in your room, when I saw the way you were looking at me, I knew. I never wanted anyone to look at me the way you did. I panicked. I ran and hid, hoping that if I just pushed everything down for long enough then-” He sighed again, his breath feeling like a cotton ball in his throat.

******************

You were pissed. Angry at Leonard for ignoring you, angry that you were in med bay, angry that Leonard wouldn’t shut the fuck up. You were trying so hard to move past the feelings you had for him, but you always seemed to end up right back in front of him. 

“Why?” You couldn’t stop your mouth from moving, even though in this moment you desperately wanted him to shut up. You could hear how tired he was, making the southern accent more prominent, making your heart swell. 

“Well, I’m broken. Told Jim that Jocelyn took everything in the divorce. All I got is my bones.”

“So that’s where the nickname comes from? James tries so hard to call you Leonard to my face, like the nickname is a secret or something.” You could feel the way he looked at you, choosing to focus on the nickname instead of anything else he just told you. “Leonard, we can continue this conversation later, but my shoulder really hurts. Please help me.”

Leonard helped you onto the bed, and slightly straightened you up. “Um, I need to take your shirt off, I need to see-”

You couldn’t help but blush. You had thought this before, not in this context. Your fantasies usually revolved around his office, in the shower, maybe you thought about you and him in the greenhouse once or twice, but never like this, “I’m gonna need some help with that.”

Leonard slowly pulled your arm out of the sleeve, and you almost thought you could see him shaking, “Len, I’m not made of porcelain.” You could hear him release the breath he was holding, his thumb dancing over your wrist. Soon enough you were topless, you could see a bruise forming. Your shoulder felt so wrong. You almost couldn’t describe it. It felt taut like it was being pulled, but you felt like you had no control, you couldn’t shrug if you tried. 

“This is gonna hurt, according to these scans not only is your shoulder dislocated but you have a torn AC ligament.” He laid you down, placing your arm down over the edge of the bed, and quickly pulling your arm into a 90 degree angle, while rotating your arm. You felt the relief as you heard your shoulder pop back into place. Then the hypo, and if your shoulder still didn’t throb a little you would have hit Leonard.

“That’s gonna help with the pain and swelling, and this one,” He stabbed you again, “Is gonna help with that ligament, but you cannot lift anything heavier than 15 pounds until I clear you, and because this can still affect your range of motion, we’ll still have to keep a close eye on it. Usually for a dislocated shoulder we would recommend a sling, but we’re going to need movement if you want to be able to maintain your current quality of life.”

“Okay, and the treatment plan?” You sat up and gingerly pulled your shirt over your head.

“Well the fact you were able to do that is a good sign.” He took a step back from you, “Stand up and hold your arms directly out in front of you,” You did, your left arm not reaching quite as high as your right hand, “Now out to the side,” again, the left shoulder not quite as high. “Drop them to your sides and shrug,” You almost couldn’t. Trying with all of your might to move your left side up to your chin. The smallest inch of movement had you content. 

“4-6 weeks,” Leonard smashed the contentedness. “I know, it seems like a long time, but (Y/N) losing range of motion for your line of work would hinder you in more ways than one. Even with the medicine we have, we can only speed up the human body's healing time by so much. If it was any worse I would have said 8.” He took a step closer to you and took your hand in his. “Now stop pouting and let me check your head.”

*****************************************

It had been 3 days since the last time you had seen Leonard, the longest amount of time the two of you had gone since that night in med bay. You had even spent the night once or twice. However, this time you weren’t anxious about it. He didn’t consume your thoughts like before and for the first time in weeks, you finally felt like you were back in your groove. You were on the last 2 week stretch of desk duty, and not surprisingly you were spending most of the time following Spock around, or wandering around the greenhouse, trying to politely remind people that your way was the right way and you were actively writing the protocol for this.

However, right now you were moping. Looking like someone ate your candy and you couldn’t help it. Everyone who you could bother during the day was gone. A new planet, going where no man has gone before, or whatever the excuse was. You just knew you were bored and there was no one around to entertain you. You soon found yourself wandering to med bay, hoping that you could catch a moment alone with Leonard. You waved at the nurse sitting at the desk, before making your way to Leonard's office. You knocked on the door and when you didn’t hear a response you slowly opened the door.

Stepping into the office you glanced around, it was empty. You frowned even more, wanting to fold your arms over your chest and huff. You made your way back to the desk and faced the nurse. “Where’s Dr. McCoy?”

“The captain asked him to join the team going down the surface today.”

“Oh, okay. Can you let him know I stopped by? He wanted me to come down for a follow up.”

The young boy sitting behind the desk smiled at you and straightened his posture a little, “Yeah, can I get a name? Lt. Commander (Y/N). Thank you.” You smiled back before heading back out into the hallway. 

Back in the greenhouse you couldn’t stay focused, wanting to wander and more than enough times trying to sneak in and help with the rearranging currently going on. Every time someone caught you and every time they threatened to tell Spock. Eventually you conceded, holing yourself away in your office. You couldn’t help the way you stared off into literal space. Not being able to keep your mind busy with anything work related, you decided to give up. You pulled out your PADD and started drawing. Focus every bit of [ent up energy into the smallest details on the pages… 

Just wanting something to keep you busy. And you were now in a field, it looked like home. Yellow dandelions and honeysuckle sprouting up everywhere, you could feel the cool grass beneath your toes. The wind was warm and steady. The sky was cornflower blue and white wispy clouds were scattered throughout. You finally felt calm. You closed your eyes, trying to breathe in the moment. A hand grasped yours, you looked over and there he was. The man who completely consumed your dreams. You could see it. This is where you spent most of your time, the space you went to in duress. 

The image shifted, now you were in a house. Your mom’s home. It smelled exactly as you remembered. You heard the kettle on the stove and made your way to the kitchen, laughter floated through the air. The kitchen now in view, your mom was now at the counter, filling a group of mugs that sat on the counter. Behind you at the kitchen island, stood Leonard, chopping vegetables and bantering with your dad.

The image rippled behind you, changing the scenery and you were still on earth, but this was your home. The place you started and the place you would end. When you decided to move to Washington, James helped you. Packed only what you needed and took the road trip with you, only along for the memories. Your homestead spread before you. Your eyes automatically drifted to the chicken coop. Leonard was there, several of your hens grouped around his feet as he spread bird seed for them.

“I don’t think chickens would be that big of a fan of me,” You jumped as Leonard made himself known behind you. You slowly made your way to him, suddenly anxious about the interaction, “I heard you were looking for me?”

You almost forgot, you laughed to yourself before explaining, “Yeah, it wasn’t anything important. I was bored, and both James and Spock were gone! I can’t do anything with this damn arm and I needed stimulation. I didn’t know James stole you too!” You lightly hit him in the chest and scowled, “I thought we had a rule.”

The doctor suddenly looked bashful as he stared at your feet, “There was an exception to the rule,” From behind his back, he revealed a plant. It looked like a venus fly trap, but it was maroon. “ “It looks like dionaea muscipula, but I’ve never seen one this color. Or as large.” You gently cradled the propagate in your hands, breathing gently as you inspected it. “Usually 10cm is the largest they get. This one could be significantly bigger.” You finally looked up at him, tears slightly welling up in your eyes, “Thank you,” 

Suddenly you were surrounded by him. His hand on your face, his smell swirling around, and most importantly his lips on yours. They were soft, a complete contrast to the finger grazing over your cheek. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as you leaned into him. He wrapped his free hand around your waist and pulled you against him. You were hyper aware of the feeling of his chest against yours, you swore your breathing was in sync. 

Leonard pulled away first, deciding that air was actually a vital part of his plan to have a future with you. He rested his forehead against yours, placing a chaste kiss to your nose, “Maybe I can get used to the chickens.”

*******************************

Leonard practically dragged you out to the turbolift. Only giving you a split second to stop by the greenhouse to drop off your new favorite thing. Surprised you were able to make the short ride to his quarters without your hands all over each other. He held your hand the entire time and you couldn’t help but notice how opposite the two of you looked. Leonard with a determined look taking over his features, he was desperate to be alone with you and he couldn’t stop bouncing as you waited to arrive at the correct floor. You, on the other hand, looked completely love drunk. Still reeling from the kiss, just happy to be near him and along for the ride.

He pulled you down the hallway and you did everything you could to stay on your feet as you tripped after him. He turned back to look before picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder and he resumed his pace. You let a giggle fall out of you, hanging over his back, staring at the floor. He hummed in response, and you couldn’t help but shake your head, knowing he couldn’t see you, deciding to keep this to yourself. He stopped, arriving at his door, and soon you were in the darkness and privacy of his personal space. The room is familiar in the dim lighting from the late night visits that happened occasionally. He continued, moving to a space you had never seen before, his bedroom.

You couldn’t help the flurry you were feeling in your stomach, suddenly aware of everything around you. Taking in what the room looked like, you could definitely see Leonard in the space, it was nicely decorated. The sheets looked soft, a rich phthalo green with matching comforter. The night stands were simply decorated, with a single light on each, one of them holding a photo of he and James at the Academy. The rest of the room had small trinkets, and a couple of dirty clothes were sitting on a chair in the corner. What really caught your eye was the small purple succulent sitting on his dresser.

“You put him on your dresser?” You couldn’t help but ask, knowing he would know exactly what you were talking about. The succulent was your first surviving propagation of its kind. You had affectionately named him ‘Jim’.

“Yeah, I brought him home that very day. I’ve been following all your rules. Even had Scotty set me up special lights so the little could get the effects on sunlight.” He set you down on the bed and looked at you, before stepping forward and weaving his way between your legs, currently towering over you. You wanted to drool, you were sure this was heaven. He was kissing you again, this time deeper than before, his tongue already begging as you moved your lips against his. Ever so slightly you moved back onto the bed, slowly lying down as Leonard climbed on top of you. His hands slowly moved up your shirt and you couldn’t help but try and press your body against his hands. Trying to desperately communicate the need for his touch.

“Len,” you whispered and he looked at you. His eyes softened as he took in the sight of you, a hand coming up to cup your cheek, you couldn’t help but pull him into a hug, pulling him down until his entire body weight was on top of you. You couldn’t help the contented sigh that fell from your lips as you embraced this feeling. He felt like a weighted blanket on top of you, bringing a sense of peace with him as your breathing synced together,  “I missed you.”

“I missed you too Darlin’” Your hands grabbed the back hem of his shirt, gently tugging and trying to pull it up his body, Leonard picking up the hints. Moving off you, he finished the job you were working on, before you sat up, allowing him to pull your shirt off you. “You’re gorgeous,” again you wrapped up in a kiss, and it was everything you had been dreaming about since you met him. 

Soon enough, you were naked, your lower half dangling off the edge of the bed, Leonard stroking himself as he stared at you. You swore you could feel his eyes burning into your skin as he raked you over, looking as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your body, the adoration radiating off him made you want to cry. You couldn’t remember a time anyone had made you feel this way just from a look. You didn’t know why you were suddenly so emotional, but now you were worried you were ruining the moment. You saw Leonard’s face change as he moved toward you. 

“(Y/N)?” He scooped you up, sitting you on his lap, his thumb brushing away the one rogue tear that escaped, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head and smiled, “Nothing, it was just the way you looked at me.” You turned around in his lap, straddling him. You slowly kissed your way around his jaw line, up to his ear before gently nibbling on his ear lobe. You kept your lips pressed to his skin as you whispered in his ear, “Now, where were we Doctor?”

You shivered as he gripped your thighs, you slowly hiked yourself up placing one hand on Leonard’s shoulder to keep yourself steady using the other to line yourselves up. You didn’t miss the way he bit down on his lip as soon as your hand wrapped around his cock. Slowly easing yourself down onto him, you slowly stretched down until your thighs were touching his, placing both arms on his shoulders as you gave a few small bounces just to adjust yourself. Adjusting your knees, you started rotating your hips while setting a steady pace as you started to spring up and down. Having to quickly adjust when Leonard dropped to his elbows, and you came with him. 

He now had the upper hand, using one arm to wrap around your waist, keeping you in place, using the other to hold your chin, maintaining eye contact as he set a brutal pace, his hips almost smashing into yours. The new angle had changed and suddenly you couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your lips, seeing a smirk appear on Leonard’s face. “You sound so pretty,” He swiped his thumb over your lips and instinctively you slightly parted your mouth, “Say my name darlin.’”

You couldn’t help the heat that burned your cheeks, deciding to try and get back at him for the compromising position he put you in, “Leona-” You didn’t get to finish his name before his hips stopped moving. His arm is still locking you in place. You wanted to pout at the sudden loss of movement but didn’t have enough time as you were on your back now. Legs resting around his hips, his free hand now gripping one of your hips, as he slowly leaned in closer.

He adjusted the way he was holding your chin, he now rested your chin in the dip between his thumb and index finger, with each holding onto your jaw and adjusting your head to look at him, “I don’t think you heard me, what’s my name?”

“Dr. McCoy,” You looked at him through lidded eyes, eyes closing at his grip on your jaw tightened for a split second, before his hand on your hip pulled you closer to him. Settling a tortuous pace as he thrust into you, hiking your hips higher up as you started thrusting up towards him, desperate for more. He slowed down for a split second, a hand coming to rest by your throat. His fingers instinctively fell on your carotid. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Your heart rate seems pretty elevated,” He softly widened his grip, his hand now resting at the base of your neck.

“I was hoping you could tell me Doctor,” Leonard leaned down close to you, his fingers already slowly inching to either side of your neck, “Are you okay with this.” 

You quickly nodded your head and wiggled your body, closer to his, “Yes Le-” You swallowed, avoiding eye contact with him, “Yes Dr, McCoy.”

He applied pressure to the sides of your throat, you tilted your head back, almost as if you were presenting your neck to him and you could have died hearing the low moans Leonard was placing in your ear. You hummed as your eyes drifted shut, and you could feel the coil that had been tightening was ready to snap. 

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you (Y/N),” He thrust to punctuate every word and there you went. You gasped and drug your nails down his back as your thighs tightened around his waist. Leonard released his grip from around your neck and pulled away from you, spilling all over your stomach. He was gone the next second, before returning with a warm wash rag, practically wiping you down from head to toe. You couldn’t help yourself when you settled down under the sheets, face buried in the pillows that smelt like him.

Leonard soon returned, climbing into the bed beside you and pulling you into his chest. Kissing the top of your head before speaking, “Are you okay? I know that got intense pretty fast,” His fingers were absentmindedly running through your hair.

You yawned, moving yourself closer so your ear was pressed up against his chest, his heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You nodded against his ribcage, “I’m fine. I’m great actually…and the ‘Doctor Thing’ is kinda hot.” You could feel his chest shake with a silent laugh and you yawned again.  Pulling the blanket up to your neck and quickly falling into the best sleep you had received in weeks.

****************************

Leonard instinctively grabbed for you when he rolled over half awake in bed. He received no reprieve from the empty sheets, they were still slightly warm, and now he was wide awake. Scanning the room with his eyes, he couldn’t see you anywhere. There was something new on the dresser and he slowly made his way over to it. It was a note from you, and he couldn’t help but notice how elegant your handwriting was as it scrawled across the page. ‘I needed coffee, and you have none. Come find me if you would like a cup.” 

Leonard almost seemed like he was on autopilot as he dressed and brushed his teeth, leaving his quarters with only his comm and a mission to see you again. He quickly arrived in front of your door, and knocked within the same breath, realizing how desperate he was to see you. Now you stood in front of him, in a white t-shirt. He swallowed thickly as he could see your nipples pressed against the fabric, noticing how the pajama pants you stole from him hung around your waist.

He noticed the way you were looking at him, eyes still slightly coated with tiredness as they scanned his face, he tried to remain as untroubled as possible, trying not to give any signs of doubt as he stared back at you. He had something important he needed to tell you. You slowly reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him back into your quarters with you. Leonard could smell the freshly ground coffee and finally took a glance around now that he was here again. Taking in more than just the photos on your walls. 

He watched as you made your way across the room from him, back toward the espresso machine that sat on your counter, “Now how did you manage to pull that off?”

You looked over your shoulder as you giggled, “Listen, when it comes to Starfleet, I’m not dumb. I know that I’m a nepo baby and I know that I could have everything the easy way. I could take advantage of everything and everyone would let me. James could too.” Leonard scoffed as you started swirling and lightly tapping your steamed milk, “I know that my last name carries a legacy that I won’t ever feel I have earned.” You started slowly pouring the milk into a steel Starfleet mug, “However, almost everyone else thinks that just carrying her name is enough to give me the world. Spock knew that, he challenged me all throughout my time in Starfleet, and yes the age gap was definitely weird for everyone at first, but he sees something in me, something I never will.” You looked up at him as you started tamping your espresso, “Admiral Pike knew that. It’s because he knows me. I’ve called that man Uncle Chris since I could talk. He knew a pay bump wasn’t going to get me to leave my station. Especially to come to the ship he was the first captain of. So he gave me Spock, and a brand new espresso machine.” 

Your fingers tapped on the edge of the counter as you bit your bottom lip. You grabbed your finished espresso shot, holding it up to the light and inspecting it. “I was a barista once, and I loved it, it gave me something that made me feel like me. The other people in the coffee shop didn’t know who I was, or if they did they didn’t care.” You were practically speaking into the counter as you delicately poured the shot over your milk. “My mom would have loved it. If there’s one thing my dad drilled into my head, it’s that I didn’t have to choose Starfleet.” You now held a bottle filled with a purple syrup. You steadied your hand as you etched a simple crosshatch pattern into the top of the foam.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said in med bay for a couple days now,” You quickly sanitized everything, exchanging steaming pitchers, mugs, and even the shot glass, “My mom, is the reason I do anything in this life.” He watched as you started your process over again. Moving at a slightly quicker pace this time, “She died when I saw 5. It’s been 20 years and yet her birthday still feels like my day of atonement.” Leonard noticed how you adjusted the amount of coffee in the puck and the amount of water, “My last relationship ended because he proposed, and then I found out he had a wife.” You couldn’t help but happily gasp as you finally watched the shots finish pulling. 

“Just because you were married the person you, at one point in time, loved,” You were now steadily pouring the milk into the espresso that laid in the bottom on the mug, the stream of milk coming from your steaming pitcher couldn’t have been thicker than a pencil, “It doesn’t mean that you’re broken, and if you are, then so am I. And so is James. And Spock as well. Every single person on this ship,” You handed him the mug, “Is broken in some way, and it doesn’t make them any less worthy of love.” 

You cradled your mug in your hands before sitting across from him, in a small armchair you managed to tastefully squeeze in the small living room provided to you, “I love Spock, and I love James,” you swiftly pulled your legs underneath you, “And I love you, Leonard. And you are worthy of love.”

You slowly took a sip from your mug, watching his reaction as you tried to keep a somewhat safe distance from him, it wasn’t every day you could pull that conversation out of thin air. You became somewhat concerned as Leonard stared at his coffee, after a couple more seconds he looked at you and you felt like you could breathe again.

“Do you remember the first time you ever came to med bay? The conversation we had?

************************

Leonard couldn’t help but stare at the perfect white dot that stood perfectly in the middle of the carmel colored drink from the milk and espresso mixing together. He felt breathless. You remembered, this was the first time he had coffee made by you since he ran away. He swore he could feel his heart swell, looking at the act of love made right in front of his face. “And I love you, Leonard. And you are worthy of love.” He wanted to run. To move out of your eyesight, and if he could, out of your life.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t dare. You were here, why would he ever leave? He took in everything around him, trying to stifle his nervous system that was telling him to abort the mission. He swore he could see the flashing red lights in his vision. He finally looked at you and the room was alive and it was all because of you, you were the sunshine he so desperately craved. Like his own personal star.  “Do you remember the first time you ever came to med bay? The conversation we had?”

“I remember the big three,” you softly smiled at him, and he watched as you took another sip from your mug.

Leonard just needed a little bit more context, for his own peace, to make sure the both of you were on the same page, “The big three?”

 “We talked about how flat whites are your preferred drink of choice, we talked about ‘the deal’ with me and Spock, and we talked about how you didn’t believe in soulmates.” It almost seemed like you had a checklist to remember. Feeling quite pleased with himself that you seemed to be on the same page already. 

“I never believed in having a soulmate. Not just for me, but for everyone. I’ve always thought it was crazy to love someone based on a mark we’ve had since we were born.” Leonard finally took his first drink, appreciating the warm, velvety milk that soothed his groggy morning throat, “The idea that you can’t love someone just because you weren’t chosen for them was always ridiculous to me. I’ve always wanted to reject the idea that someone should love me just because of a damn sign from the universe I had no say in.”

His gaze seemed more intense now, hoping you would know the gravity of the words he was trying to muster the courage to say. He was in this for the long haul, for the rest of his life. ‘The night I came to check on you I saw it. In the photo of you and Jim.”

You smiled at him and Leonard took a shaky breath, “Your mark is the dendrites of a multipolar neuron,” He watched your face morph as you brought your wrist to your face, gently tracing the lines with your fingers. Leonard pulled his arm out of the black thermal he was wearing, and for the first time, he turned his arm, and just below the crease of his elbow, was the finishing piece of yours, “I got the terminals of the neuron,”

“They look like plant roots,” You mused from your spot on the chair, now leaning over the arm of the chair to get a closer look, “Everything clicked that night,” Leonard stood, moving in front of you and bringing your wrist to the inside of his elbow, watching as your bodies and the image connected, “I ran away that night because I was scared. The thought of you being mine was almost too much to handle, then I saw the way you looked at me. No one had ever looked at me like that.” He was now holding your hand, watching as a slight blush consumed your cheeks. “You still look at me like that. I love you (Y/N), and the only thing I ever want is to be yours.”

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You wanted to cry,you had been naked in front of Leonard before but now you felt like you had been stripped bare, you needed a break in this conversation. You could feel the heaviness in the air, making it hard to breathe. “People will say things about you Leonard. It’s happened before.” 

“What? They’ll think I’m with you for the status?” Leonard puffed his chest playfully.

“No, that’s not what I’m worried about.” You straightened yourself up, now on your knees as you locked eye contact with Leonard, “You’re the CMO of the USS Enterprise, you don’t need my status. No, what I’m worried about is that you’re one of the youngest men I’ve dated, and that’s still a 9 year age difference.”

“Youngest? I told Jim they’d never let me speak at the Academy again.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, pulling him in by the front of his shirt, “I’ll have you know I am a grown adult Dr. McCoy. With a fully formed prefrontal cortex. I think I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.” You were hovering in front of his lips when you saw a small smile make an appearance, a knock at the door pulled two two of you out of your reverie and you groaned. Pulling away from him and grumbling under your breath all the way to your door.

James was waiting, bouncing in place as he tried seeing into your room from his angle in the hallway. “Did Leonard give you his gift?” James bounced his eyebrows up and down at you. 

“If you’re talking about the potentially giant venus fly trap then, yes.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“So, it’s giant huh?” A smirk cracking his face as he watched yours morph.

“I mean…” you paused, not knowing if Leonard wanted to tell people, before shrugging your shoulders as you fully faced James, measuring the air with your pointer fingers.

“Are you serious? Tell me you’re joking?” You slightly jumped as Leonard placed his hand on your shoulder. 

“What are we joking about?” He yawned after he spoke and you knew it couldn’t have been any earlier than 0700. 

“James doesn’t believe you have a big dick.” You laughed as Leonard suddenly stood straighter and seemed to tense up, you turned toward him, pulling him down for a gentle kiss, “James didn’t believe that we actually told each other how we felt.”

“Thank god you did because my next plan was to strand the two of you in a desert at night.” 

“Goodbye James,” you briefly waved before closing the door and pulling Leonard into your bedroom.