#staring at my clock as the seconds pass until next thursday

[tsangredulce]

genuinely upset at how much helena has taken and will take away from helly

[ultralightpoe]

Pinky Promises - Chapter Two

Authors Note: Another Part in the series is up, I am very excited for their story.

Word Count: 8532

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October 13th, 1977 - Thursday 

“Both of you need to be on your best behavior.” Charlotte Fraser warns, watching as the two children in front of her give each other wide smiles that she knows firsthand will only cause trouble. “You hear me?” 

They nod, staring blankly back at her before turning to each other and giving that same smile once more. Before she can call them on it another figure emerges in the kitchen, limping slightly as she laughs at the scene before her. 

“Lottie, dear. They are just getting ready for the day. Take it easy on them.” Nana defends, coming to kiss her granddaughter's head lightly. “Are we doing pancakes for the birthday girl then?” 

Everyone blinks, and Steve watches as Lottie tries coming up with an answer to her mothers question. But Ollie is quick to beat them too it. 

“We already ate breakfast Nana. I wanted you to sleep because you stayed up late making my dress.” She smiles, spinning to show her the work she had done. “Thank you so much by the way.” 

Nana blinks, looking at the clock before realizing what time it is and nodding slowly. “Right. I must have overslept. Silly me. Alright. Let me say goodbye at least.” 

She kisses Ollie’s head, and then kisses Steves before limping off to find where Wiley ran off to in an effort to flee from his father and school. The second she turns the corner Lottie bends down to fix Ollie’s dress a bit and wipe some of the hair out of her daughter's hair. “You’re such a pretty birthday girl. Let’s get you to school.” 

Steve watches in silence as Ollie runs to grab her backpack and Charlotte wipes the tears before everyone is being ushered out the door. 

“I have your gift.” He mumbles to Ollie on the way to the car. “I’m giving it to you later.” 

“Are you going to have dinner over here tonight?” 

“My mom is going out with an old friend so yeah. That and I want to come celebrate your birthday.” 

“I know.” She smiles, leaning to hug him. “You’re my best friend.” 

“You're my best friend.” He sighs, hugging her back, nerves filling his body. 

- 

October 13th, 1983 - Thursday 

“I am so irritated with you right now I can’t even begin to describe it.” Cece snaps, her hand slamming into the locker next to the one Via currently stood in front of, shuffling through to find her lighter as her friend went on a rant. “It’s not even worth arguing over.” 

“Good because-“ 

“You know what? I changed my mind. It is worth arguing over because how dare you? How. Dare. You.” The brunette seethes, eyes narrowing as Via’s fingers finally wrap around the lighter and drag it out from the abyss of a locker. “I’ve been your best friend for how many years now?” 

“4 I believe. Might be 5.” 

“And this is the treatment I get?” 

“Okay, let me get this straight. You’re mad at me because I accepted a shift tonight? I need money and Thursday nights are the best since it’s just a bunch of middle schoolers and their parents.” Via mumbles, exhaustion coating her every movement. It had been a rough couple nights, spent unable to sleep and so she crammed herself in that tiny desk and tried drawing or painting until she got tired enough to pass out at the desk until her father woke her up for school. All. Week. 

“It’s your birthday, Olivia.” A couple people turn their heads to them at the tone which makes Via panic and shush her. 

“Not so loud. Alaska can probably hear you.” They glare at each other for a moment, both unwilling to give up on their stances. 

Finally, with a growl of frustration, Cece stomps her heel into the ground. “We should be celebrating tonight Via.” 

“I need to work.” Via huffs, rolling her shoulders to release some of the tension that had built up. “Besides, Hartson wasn’t really offering it. It was more of a ‘I need this shift covered so do it’. And so I agreed.”

“He can’t do that. That’s not legal is it? He can’t do that.” 

“I’m not sure but it’s already been done so who cares-“ Before she can finish her sentence a body shoves into her, wrapping her in a hug that sends them both careening into the lockers by them. 

“Gareth.” It’s a warning enough, but the brown haired boy doesn’t listen to Eddie and continues hugging Via with a big smile. 

“You smell like fish.” She scoffs, trying to push him away. 

“It’s my new deodorant. I call it sweat.” The fool smiles, lifting his armpit for her to smell which leads to her gasping and pushing him harshly. In their little scuffle they both accidently push into another figure that had been at her locker. 

A soft grunt of pain could be heard as Barb dropped the books she was holding, making the group in front of her stop quickly. 

“I’m sorry.” Gareth blushes, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as Barb nods, doing her best not to make eye contact. 

Relatively Barb and the group before her sat at the same rank on the food chain of this school, barely making it by with Tommy Hagan. And yet their groups sat on opposite sides. 

Via and her friends were considered ‘burnouts’ whilst Barb was considered….a ‘goody two shoes’ not that there was anything wrong with that. But it’s safe to say they all normally avoided each other. 

“We didn’t mean to do that.” Via confirms, bending down to grab the books for her as the redhead keeps nodding. 

“No it was me. I was in the way.” Barb tries a laugh, grabbing the books back from Vias outstretched hand slowly. 

“Hey I saw you in the hall the other day while I was ditching. You told the teacher the wrong way when they asked where I went.” Eddie smiles, and Via watches in real time as her cousin does what he does best. Break tension and make people feel comfortable. “That was totally cool. You rock for that.” 

Barb's face turns a deep red as she ducks her head a bit, fighting off a smile. “Oh that was nothing.” 

“And that top is extremely cute.” Cece smiles, reaching forward to feel one of the ruffles between her fingers. “Have you ever seen Vogue magazine? It’s got a top that looks a lot like this-“

“I just got it from my moms closet if I’m being honest.” Barb admits. “It’s hard finding sweaters that fit me sometimes.” 

“Oh here we go.” Eddie rolls his eyes, watching Cece’s face light up with excitement as Gareth groans out when she shoves him out of the way to get closer to Barb. 

“I can make you something out of any sweaters you don’t like anymore. I actually think you would look so good in-“ As she starts going on and on Gareth groans again and Eddie reaches out to shove him and give him a death glare as Via shuffles to make her escape. 

She normally waits until her free period to sneak out and smoke near the track field, it was the perfect time of day to do so. No student or teacher traffic, she didn’t have to worry about missing class and got the perfect amount of silence to work in her sketchbook. Not that she needed silence, she just liked letting her thoughts run free without anyone near. 

She would miss math class, and her dad won’t like that call when he gets it later but she’ll say she wasn’t feeling well and lie about going to the nurse. It was her birthday after all. So she takes a sharp breath in and walks through the halls while patting her jacket to make sure she had everything she needed before taking the side exit out of the school and heading to the weird alley left between the gym building and the main building. 

The gravel digs into her legs as she sits on the ground, shuffling around to get comfortable as best she could before dragging out her sketchbook and lighting a cigarette as she begins working. 

Via liked to follow her instincts when it came to art, she trusted her imagination more than anything else, and it had never really caused a problem before. If a project wasn’t working then she moved on to the next. 

But this one had been killing her, and she had no clue why. 

It was a rough sketch, shadowed figures all huddled in the forest. There were four young boys, and Via kept seeing images of her brother flash in her mind as she detailed them out before she finally gave up and focused on the fifth figure but that was the thing that caught her the most. 

She couldn’t tell if she had been drawing a boy or a girl, the images flashing in her mind were always hazy and undistinguished and yet it was so clear. The hospital gown that reached their knees, torn a bit on the right. The hair cut short, a sort of buzzcut that reminded her of Eddie back when he was in middle school. The nose was bleeding, but there was something on the wrist that she could never make out. A tattoo of sorts that-

“Are you smoking?!” An angry voice snaps her attention quickly, she had been so involved in the sketch that she didn’t even hear the person exit the gym, a soft curse falling from her lips as panic claims her, making her drop the cigarette to the ground desperate to stomp it out until she sees Steve there with his hands on his hips. “Really, Ollie?!”

“Someone needs to put a bell on you.” She snaps, her skin flush with heat as she tries to glare at him while he shakes his head gently. His face is puckered between amusement and shock, his eyes bright with something that makes Via nervous. “What? You going to run and snitch on me now?”

“First you shoplift-”

“So did you.”

“And now you’re smoking on school property. What? You buy eyeliner and suddenly feel like a bad girl?” His tone is teasing, but Via stays on edge. Teasing probably means his friends were soon to follow and she would become the butt of the joke. 

She had to get out of here. Her eyes narrow in on his slow shuffling, like he was trying to move closer without her knowing. His shoulders tense and he is messing with the white towel balled up between his hands as he begins looking everywhere but her. 

Without another thought she grabs the handle to her bag, keeping her sketchbook gripped in her hand as she gets ready to jump up and scram. 

“Don’t you know those cause cancer?” He asks after an awkward moment of silence passes, laughing a little under his breath. She goes rigid, turning to glare at him rather than her exit. 

“So does your hairspray, you don’t hear me raggin on ya.” 

“My hairspray does not cause cancer.” He argues, eyes snapping to hers. “It is completely safe to use-”

“That’s such a lie, Harrington.” His face falls slightly at the last name, blinking as he nods. “What? I offend your hair?”

“I just can’t get used to my last name.” He admits, shrugging a bit. 

“You’ve had it since you were born.” 

“Yeah but you never used it.” And the silence that follows that sentence is deafening, it settles between them like a wall and Steve inhales quickly. “I just figured you would be the most cautious about cancer and-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snaps, sitting up quickly as his eyes widen in fear. 

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything-”

“You really want to bring up my nana, you little shit?!” 

“I’m a little shit?! You’re a little gremlin!”

“Oh I’m a gremlin now?! Listen here you half baked ken doll, you are the most annoying person on this earth. You walk into a room and your ego sucks out all the air in it!” She stands to be at his height, the sketchpad dropping from her hand. 

He’s quick to snatch it up, when she moves to snatch it back he turns his back to her and keeps it away. “If I’m a half baked Ken doll then you're a metal melted barbie.”

“Give it back Harrington.” She seethes, trying to jump over him to grab the book. Doing so she wraps her arms around him and just hangs from his back as he laughs. Dropping the white towel to reach his free hand up to hold her arm there so she doesn’t fall from his back. She reaches out once more, face heating as she catches a whiff of his overly priced cologne. 

“Jesus, Ollie…via. This is really good.”

“Yeah, right. Okay.” She rolls her eyes, diving for the book once more. He slips a bit, and they both panic. She wraps her legs around him to stop from falling and he catches himself on the wall. 

“Your dad said not to koala me!” He gasps, still gripping her arm to keep her up. “This isn’t fair.”

“Give me the book then!” “No!”

“Yes!” “I just wanna see it!” 

“You are such a pain in the ass-”

“Who is the girl?” He asks before gasping for air a bit when her arm tightens around his neck as she begins sliding off. “Ollie-”

The strangled sound of his voice makes her let her legs to, moving to unravel her arms from his neck, too focused on what he said about the sketch to care about grabbing the book back. He keeps a hold on her arm though, and a part of her feels like he just wanted to keep her near him while the other part of her knows he’s getting ready to block her again. 

“Girl? What makes you think it’s a girl?”

“The eyebrows? A random feeling? How am I supposed to know? You’re the artist.” He scoffs, keeping a hold on her elbow as he pulls the book closer to himself. “Is that…that’s Wiley right?” 

“I…. don’t know.” She blinks, suddenly feeling way too exposed and snatching the book finally. “Just get on with the mocking already-”

“I’m not here to mock you-”

“Here, I’ll even get it started for you. ‘What are you doing in the alley you freak?’ or ‘It’s creepy to draw people you stalker’ or-”

“Can I have a cigarette?” He interrupts her, wiping his palms on his shirt as his eyebrows pinch together, a look of pain passing across his face so fast that she thinks she must have imagined it. 

“And then I say something like ‘why don’t you go make out with a mirror you narcissist?’ and-”

“Olivia, can I please have a cigarette? Please?” He tilts his head, holding out a hand as she rolls her own eyes and reaches into her pocket to grab one for him. She freezes halfway through, blinking up at him with suspicion which makes him smile slightly. “I’m not trapping you to snitch.”

“Fine.” She pulls out the box and opens it to him, he is quick to snatch one, their fingers brushing together a bit which makes her pull her hand back quickly with a sneer, the heat from his touch rising up her arm and somehow sending chills down her spine. 

“How bout a light?” He asks with it between his lips, hands on his hips as she pulls out her lighter and tries to hand it to him. After a moment of standing there she realizes he won’t grab it so with a huff she flicks it on and leans to light it for him. He shrugs and leans his head forward so she can light it while it’s still between his lips. A cocky smile spreads across his features. . “Remember when we used to talk about stealing our first cigarette from your dad when you hit high school?”

“No. I don’t.” 

“Liar.”

“Jackass.” Her words were supposed to piss him off, and she gets aggravated and annoyed when it seems to have the exact opposite reaction and instead drags a smile onto his face. 

She didn’t understand why he was even bothering to bring it up, it obviously never happened. Whispering their plans of sharing their first cigarette and first drink had been useless. He had started his freshman year without her and somewhere along the way she had completely been dropped from his life. 

Eddie’s warnings from middle school are still right there in her ear as she watches him now. 

“I know you both are close but…. He’s not the person you think he is you know? He hurts people. You’re not like that.” 

She hadn’t understood then, hadn’t been able to process that her very best friend in the world was a bully. But the second she moved up to the same school as him once more it all made sense. And the betrayal of finding out who he really was hurt like a bitch. 

The apologies she had to give Eddie for not believing him tore at her chest. 

As if he knows what she is thinking while she stares he awkwardly clears his throat before taking a drag from the cigarette and shuffling to find a spot. 

After a few moments he leans against the brick wall, trying to seem relaxed as he smokes while she shuffles to the opposite wall, moving to pick up her bag and toss all her supplies in. The sketch pad is thrown in, and she fights a cringe when the pages bend against the other books but she’s too interested in getting the hell out of here. 

“What are you doing today?” He asks after yet another minute of silence, his voice a little cracked, almost as if he was desperate to keep the conversation going before she could escape. Alarm rings through her, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to reveal what he actually needed. 

“Oh just the usual, plotting your murder and then robbing a bank after school.” She scoffs, trying to fix the hair that had fallen out of her bun when she attacked him earlier.  “Any requests? I’m partial to the throwing you down a well idea but I would also be willing to set you on fire.”

“Oh. Interesting. I think I’m gonna go with Plan B.” He smiles, shuffling closer once more and she finds herself trying to find something to say that would piss him off. Anything that might shred his heart the way he shredded hers, but the words get caught on her tongue whenever she thinks of something close.  “Seriously, what are the big plans tonight? For Ollie’s birthday extraordinaire?”

There’s a bite to the words, and she tries not to scoff at it, noting the small tinge of jealousy. 

“I have work. And I already told you not to call me that. ” She admits, shrugging a bit. Torn between dashing away and or staying near him. Why was it so hard to leave? She hates him. 

“You work at the theater, right?”

“Yes? How did you know that?” 

“I’ve seen you there. Not in a stalkerish way but like- you work the snack counter. Why are you working on your birthday? That is the biggest sin known to man. Especially in your family.” 

“I…..” For a second the words almost tumble out, desperate to finally rant to someone about the situation. For a second it’s not Harrington and Via, rather than Ollie and Stevie and she feels the emotions hit her chest as she breathes in air for what feels like the first time in forever. 

She wants to tell him that she hasn’t celebrated her birthday without her Nana before, and explain that her family had no money to do a warm dinner or cake so what was the point of making them feel guilty? It wasn’t worth it anyways considering she wasn’t anything to celebrate over. 

For a second she almost slips and admits her sad thoughts to the longest friend she ever had. 

But his laughing face appears in her memory next, and she could just about vomit all over the gravel beneath them as it engraves itself there in the forefront of it all. 

This was not how it used to be, and she needed to remember that. 

It finally made sense why he was out here, he was looking for things to throw at her. Looking to trick her into talking to him so he would have fresh material. 

“Why am I wasting time talking to you?” She scoffs. “You’ll just throw it back in my face the first chance you get. Fuck off Harrington.”

She storms off after that, and she should have felt victorious because she got to tell Steve to fuck off. But she didn’t, she only felt lame and hurt. 

And the worst part was she knew exactly what to say to hurt him in the way he had hurt her, but she didn’t have the guts to do so. 

She was pathetic. 

- 

October 13th, 1977 

Ollie’s birthday dinner was spent with her family, just as it always was, elbow to elbow as they poured over the meal before them. 

Nana, who sat at the head of the table, was recounting her trip at the store earlier to the little ones who had been in school, watching their faces as they listened intently. 

“And the damn price of corn went up again. By the time you bunch are grown it’s gonna be damn near 5 dollars for one stock of it.” She grunts out, rolling her eyes gently. “You better become rich.” 

“I am!” Wiley yells, raising his hand. “I’m gonna go to space!” 

“Ollie is going to be a famous painter.” Stevie smiles, leaning forward. “She’s gonna be in a museum one day.” 

“No I’m not!” Ollie laughs, shaking her head at her friend as he turns to her shocked. “They only put the really good ones in those museums. There is no way I make it.” 

“They have to! I’ll make them!” Stevie snaps, his face thrown into one of disbelief. 

“How are you going to make them?” The adults can do nothing but watch as the two turn to face each other, all aware just how this process goes with them. 

“I’ll….. I’ll….. break their kneecaps!” Stevie rushes out, face growing red as Ollie gapes at him. 

“You’re going to break their kneecaps to get my work in a museum?” She asks, her face melting into one of giddiness as Steve nods aggressively. 

“I’ll break the museum's kneecaps. No question.” He confirms and his best friend shoves forward to hug him tightly. “Who even works at a museum anyways?” 

“I have no clue. But they better watch themselves.” Ollie giggles with her arms still wrapped around Steve. 

“I pray for them.” Flip mutters, shaking his head at the two kids. “I pray for anyone who bothers you two.” 

“Do you believe in god?” Wiley blurts out, fully staring his father down. 

“Eat your mashed potatoes, Wye.” Flip grunts, going red in the face himself at his youngest son's attention, flustered. 

-

October 13th, 1983 - Thursday. 

Standing outside Hawkins Theater, Steve Harrington shuffled about on his feet awkwardly with his hands in his pockets debating whether he should be here or not. 

He knew, deep down, that this was a bad idea. Like pouring gasoline on himself and then lighting a match. And yet he stood there, wanting nothing more than to light the match. 

It was an addiction, he was sure of it, having to be near Ollie. One that he had managed to avoid so well, until that night at the Mini Mart gave him a taste again and he found himself looking for her throughout the day. 

It made sense, this was his best friend at one point. He used to spend nights at her house and eat with her family. This was the person who taught him to ride a bike and dared him to eat a worm. It’s only natural to miss her….. right? 

He messed it up earlier, he moved too fast and asked too many questions. He made her paranoid, and that was on him. This time he would be more careful, ease into the conversation. He would-

Jesus when did Ollie go from his best friend to talking about her like she’s a scared kitten in an alley?

This was a bad idea, he knows this, the sinking feeling in his gut making him turn to walk away. He’d go to the store and get something for dinner and forget all about this. Go back to the way it was, completely ignoring her existence. 

But her face flashes in his mind and he finds himself turning right back around and facing the theater. It was her birthday. He missed it last year, an away game for basketball, and even if he was in Hawkins he didn’t know what he would have done for her. 

And the year before that had been the year when Cece emerged, the girl hating him through and through. He remembered her narrowed eyes as he carried the painting set to the house, the look of distrust. 

He had gotten to watch from the sidelines last year just how close Cece was to Via, a firm layer of annoyance lacing his mind every time he saw them hanging out. Steve liked to blame Cece on Via's new look, the new shorts and dark colors. The chopped and bleached hair. Via looked completely different than what he was used to. 

And it wasn’t bad, she was still beautiful, always had been. Even he could admit that as her best friend. But it was a shock to the system seeing her now. The first day of school this year he had kept an eye out for long brown hair and one of Nana's signature creations. 

He had not known what to do with the new Via, or how to stop his heart from racing through his chest when she walked by with her middle finger pointed at his group. 

But that didn’t matter, he had spent the year avoiding her, and had missed her birthday. 

“Come on Harrington. Just get it together.” He mutters to himself, wiping the sweat from his palms down the front of his jacket before hopping on his feet a bit to hype himself up before he finally makes his way to the ticket booth. 

“What can I do for you?” The kid sitting in the booth huffs, staring at Steve like he was crazy. 

“Oh um. My friend is working. Can I just come in? I don’t really need a ticket.” He explains, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. 

“Can’t get in without a ticket.” 

“Okay. Fine. Just a ticket to a movie then.” Steve rushes out, grabbing his wallet and paying for the ticket before he heads into the building and takes a deep breath in. 

The smell of buttered popcorn fills the air, the red decorations around mixed with the maroon carpet and warm lighting making everything about this place feel so welcoming. It almost manages to ease all his anxiety as he shuffles to the snack counter, wiping his palms one more time as her voice fills the air. 

“Just this today Miles?” She asks, even though she is already grabbing the money like she already knows it will be. The taller figure nods quickly, grabbing his snack and turning to walk away. 

He makes quick eye contact with Steve before he whirls around and bends his head in thanks and blurts out a fast. “Thank you Ms. Olivia.” 

With that he walks away, back ramrod straight and not making eye contact with anyone as he passes. And while Steve was busy watching him walk away he completely forgot that Ollie could see him. 

“What are you doing?” She snaps out and he whirls to meet her eyes quickly, suddenly feeling insane. 

“I’m….. here to see a movie.” He lies, stepping forward until his fingers touch the counter. “Obviously.” 

She blinks up at him, her lips shut in a thin line. “Then go see your movie.” 

“Well I need snacks.” He smiles, pointing behind her at all the snacks displayed on the shelves and the large popcorn display. “What do you recommend?” 

“Popcorn.” She keeps her face bland, it makes his chest tighten as he panics for ways to make her smile. 

“That guy before me was a little weird, huh?” 

“Miles is really nice.” She rushes out, standing to grab a bucket and fill it with popcorn quickly. “He comes every Thursday for that Star Wars movie. And he always says thank you. So leave him alone.” 

“Right. Got it.” He rushes out, nodding a little too much as he tries to come off relaxed. “So…. Nice hat.” 

Her work uniform was a yellow button up with a red tie, and Steve was a bit frustrated by the fact that she actually managed to make it look good. With bracelets stacked on her arm and black nail polish. But the thing that caught his attention was the birthday hat on her head. Blue with the words ‘happy birthday’ printed all over it but it printed wrong so it mostly said happy with only about 3 birthdays. And there was so much color on the hat that he had to blink to focus. 

“My manager gave it to me. Get your jokes out now.” She snaps, slamming the bucket on the counter. “And my ears were cold because they blast the ac so people don’t fall asleep.”

“People fall asleep a lot?” 

“More often than not.” She hits the buttons on the register before looking at him with a raised brow. “Anything else?” 

“A drink. Please.” Anything to stay here a little longer. 

“What are you seeing anyways?” She asks and he struggles to pull the ticket out of his pocket to see. 

“The… last Jedi?” 

“Oh fun! You should sit by Miles.” She smiles, pointing to the soda machine and waiting for him to answer what he wants. 

“Coke please.” 

“The theater is almost always empty now. That movie came out in like May and we were packed back then for weeks and now it’s just Miles.” She explains, filling the cup. “He comes every Thursday. He used to come with his brother but I haven’t seen George in a minute. I think he got married and moved to Nebraska.” 

Her voice holds a dreamy tone in the end, one that he catches a little too quickly. 

“You want to move to Nebraska?” 

“Not specifically. I’d like to move one day though.” She snaps the lid on the drink, coming back over to set it down, she’s close enough that he can smell the perfume she wore. It wasn’t too flowery or strong. Just a nice sage smell that had him at ease. 

“Why would you want to leave Hawkins?” 

“It’s…. Hawkins. Who wouldn’t I?” She laughs, slamming the buttons on the register once more before the total pops up. He pulls the cash from his wallet and sets it down gently. 

“I like it here.” He mumbles, shrugging a bit. He always thought she liked it here too. 

“It’s different when you’re the king.” She snaps a little, and he registers that wall building back up before his very own eyes. He had to switch the topic. 

“Where were you from originally? Denver?” 

“Yup. But my parents were from here.” 

“I remember. Your mom got accepted into college out there? Right? She studied… history?”  And Flip had followed her. From what Steve could remember of their story Flip had graduated a year before Lottie and he got a contracting job here in Hawkins. When Lottie left for Denver he stayed for a bit before he moved out there to be with her. He got a job with a construction company out there and they lived in a small one bedroom apartment when they got pregnant with Ollie. 

Lottie had been 18 and in college but the way his mothers friends talk about it makes it sound like she had gotten pregnant in high school. And as a kid he never understood the big issue, and now that he can do basic math he knows that his own mother had gotten pregnant senior year. 

She would never admit to that, too busy harping on everyone else. 

“She studied history and artifacts.” Ollie answers, seeming to be a little more at ease. “But right now she’s working as a temp in a legal aid office.” 

“Really? Wow.” His fingers tap against the counter as excitement courses through him. “How’s Wiley?” 

“Good.” That answer comes out clipped and he sees red flags in his vision. 

“Right. Well if you could tell him hi-“

“You’re gonna miss your movie.” She mumbles, pushing the popcorn and drink forward. “Wouldn’t want that.” 

“Right. The movie….. that I came here to see.” He nods, picking both of the containers up and moving to leave before turning back once more. “They are playing trailers though. I don’t mind missing those. What was that thing you were drawing earlier?” 

“I’m not sure. It just kinda…. I don’t know.” She answers truthfully. 

“Have you seen those murals all around? Of the famous people?” He asks, leaning against the counter easily. “There was one recently of Marilyn Monroe. It was really cool.” 

“Yeah I’ve seen them. My parents keep an eye on the paper for articles about the tagger.” She shrugs, cheeks turning red. 

“It’s not tagging though….. technically.” 

“Its not?” 

“Tagging is like…. Graffiti. The paintings are nothing like graffiti. They are really good. They are murals.” He explains, feeling proud of the fact that he is getting her to smile a bit. Truth was he had studied different art topics all week knowing she would be interested in them. Art was her weakness. “And I think whoever is doing them knows that. They hit popular spots when they are mad, like the store. But most of them are for fun.” 

“Who would think spending hours outside in the cold weather painting a wall would be fun?” 

“People with something to say. I would if I had any talent. And I know for a fact you would if you knew how to paint faces.” He smiles and her head tilts a bit which makes his heart speed up. 

“Who says I can’t paint faces?” 

“You always struggled with it growing up. Remember that one you did of��. Oh what was his name? You know with the-“ his hands puff out around his head in attempt to show poofy hair. “With the- damn it. You obsessed over him.” 

“Bob ross. And I didn’t obsess I just…. Liked him a little.” 

“You drew picture after picture of him. You planned a wedding.” Steve laughs. 

“I did not! I planned a proposal. You called me a donkey before I could start planning the wedding.” She huffs, her cheeks bright red. “And yes. I struggle with drawing eyes.” 

“Struggle? Struggle?! You can’t do it period. He looked like a lizard. One eye staring at me and the other trying to find the lost treasure of Atlantis.” He laughs, trying to cross his eyes the same way that drawing had. 

“Ohhhh you wanna talk about drawing. Let’s talk about-“ 

“Please don’t bring it up. I already know what you’re going to say.” He huffs. 

“The family portrait! The one you drew with nanas colored pencils of all of us. But it was just stick figures, and you overdrew dads and it looked like-“ 

“I didn’t mean to give your dads stick figure a dick! I didn’t mean to do it!” He laughs, rubbing his eyes as he remembers that drawing. “It wasn’t my intent.” 

“And you gave Wiley a unibrow.”

“The kid always had his face scrunched in confusion at the time! It looked like one eyebrow every time I saw him!” He tries to explain. “I’ve never seen a baby more confused.” 

“He was always so confused! And so curious! Every time you came over he stared at you like you were some ancient mystery!” She laughs loudly, snorting a bit. “Remember the day you tried making him laugh and got mashed potatoes up your nose?” 

“Oh my god! And then when I laughed it hit his face!” Steve cackles, bending over to try and catch his breath. 

“You scarred him. I swear. That’s why he’s always so nervous now.” 

“Always on the lookout for nose mash now.” He chuckles. “That was your 10th birthday. Right?” 

“I think so, Wiley got so mad that he refused to let me blow out the candles.” She remembers with a laugh, before the sound of blasters fills the air. “I think your movie is starting-“ 

“HARRINGTON!” The voice sounds out from the doors, drawing both their attention to the doors as a couple of the boys from the basketball team show up. “What are you doing here?” 

“W-watching a movie.” Steve rushes out. 

“Nice man.” Nicky laughs, shoving past him. “Nice hat.” 

His tone is sarcastic and the bitter laugh that falls from his lips makes Steve tense. 

“Thanks.” Ollie sneers. “What can I get you?” 

The next couple minutes pass way too slowly, the snarky comments from the boys as Ollie gets their snacks. He laughs, of course he laughs every time they make a comment because he is a coward. Always has been. 

Ollie knew that. And judging by the look she gives him as he is dragged off by his friends he knows she’s remembered why. 

All that work he did over the past 30 minutes ruined. 

- 

October 13th, 1977 - Thursday 

Wiley gets cranky halfway through the dinner and he begins staring at his plate which makes Steve feel bad. He didn’t like when Wiley got upset. He elbows Ollie to get her attention and then leans in to whisper in her ear his plan. She nods with excitement as they both turn back. 

Wiley gives them a skeptical look, casting a brief look to Nana then back to them. Steve scoops up a bunch of potatoes in his hand, rubbing it all over his face as Ollie does the same thing, both of them moaning out like zombies. 

“Me like potatoesssssss.” Stevie groans. 

“Eat brains.” Ollie groans back and Wiley starts laughing which makes the other two start laughing. But it slowly starts turning out of control, all of them laughing a little too hard. 

Then it happens, Steve snorts and a bunch of the mashed potatoes fly across the table and hit Wiley in the face. Chaos breaks out quickly. 

His face falls quickly, a scream tearing from his mouth as he swipes his face quickly, already crying for their mom. 

“I didn’t mean to!” Steve rushes out as Ollie cackles loudly, barely breathing which just makes Wiley cry more. “Ollie!” 

“I HATE YOU STEVIE!” Wiley screams, picking up a handful of mashed potatoes from the center bowl, and throwing it right at Steve only for it to hit Ollie. 

“Enough!” Lottie yelps when her daughter reaches for the same bowl. “How about some cake?” 

“No! I’m gonna kill them!” Wiley yells. 

10 minutes later as the family sings happy birthday to Ollie, Wiley keeps leaning over to blow out the candles before Ollie can, which makes Steve laugh. All three of them huddled around the cake and beginning to hit each other as the adults try to keep them all contained. 

Ollie leans forward to blow out her candles but when Flip lifts the cake to avoid Wiley’s attempts he accidentally smashes it into her face. Another wave of laughter hits all of them as her face is covered in chocolate. 

“Happy birthday Ollie,” Steve mumbles with a mouthful of cake, sliding his gift over to her. She unwraps it quickly, smiling from ear to ear when she sees the pack of colored pencils. 

“50 colors?!” She yells out, already standing. “I can’t believe it!” 

-

October 15th, 1983 - Saturday - Wiley 

“Are you serious?” Flip asks, blinking slowly at his son from his spot on the couch, trying to glue a chair back together as the sounds of Via slamming things in her room fill the air. “You’re not messing with me are you?” 

Wiley can do nothing but blink at his father, feeling nervous and excited in the same moment. 

Another thud comes from Via’s room followed by a muffled “FUCK-“ 

“Olivia! Language!” Flip huffs, shaking his head before setting the remains of the chair down and looking at his son. “Go get your shoes. I’ll get my keys.” 

Wiley dashes to go grab a pair of shoes that she shoved in his closet earlier, struggling to put them on because he was moving so quickly as he hears his dad knock on Via’s door. 

“Hey Via? I’m running your brother to the store. You need anything?” 

“No!” She snaps back, followed by another thud. She had been in a mood since her birthday, had come home and marched straight to her room. Not saying a word to and from school the next day and remaining in her room at every other moment. 

Mom said to leave her alone, telling both Wiley and his dad that it was probably girl stuff and it would all be fine. 

What Wiley didn’t admit was he snuck into her room yesterday while she ate breakfast and walked to her desk to see that she had drawn a very detailed flower with teeth on the petals and sprawled across the paper she wrote “Fuck Steve Harrington.” 

He wasn’t stupid, he knew something happened between them last year, but Wiley would ve the first to admit he missed the older teen and he missed the way things used to be. 

“Wiley! Come on let’s go!” 

He doesn’t respond, prefers not to, and rushes down the hall to meet his dad at the door with a wide smile. One Flip matches with his own excitement. 

“I’m about to drop my boy off to hang out with a friend.” He narrates, huffing a bit. “Can’t believe it.” 

Wiley’s eyes narrow at the slight diss hidden in the words, but they were also the truth so he shuffles past his dad to get to the car. 

The ride to the Hawkins comic store was long, not because of the actual ride but more so because Wiley was so excited to get there. When his dad parked the truck in front of it he hops out and meets him around the front. 

“Okay. I’m gonna head to the general store and grab your ma’s prescription. You good here?” 

A nod. 

“No talking to strangers. If you need me then come get me okay?” Another nod. Flip smiles, ruffling his hair before nodding his own head in the direction of the door. “Go knock ‘em dead kid.” 

And he makes sure Wiley gets in the building before walking down the block to the store, leaving his truck there so Wiley would have somewhere to run just in case. 

The bell to shop rings out, causing Wiley’s cheeks to heat as he shuffles inside, looking around at everything within the building. He begins to panic, what if Lucas didn’t show up? What if this was all a joke and -

“Wiley! Hey you came!” Lucas Sinclair smiles, coming around the corner with another smaller figure in tow. “Was that your dad?” 

“Y-yes-sss.” Wiley answers, hand coming up to rub his chest as a form of anxiety. He just had to remember to talk slow and breathe. It would be fine. 

“Dude he’s tall.” Lucas laughs. “Mike has a tall dad too but he doesn’t ever talk to us. His name is Ted. He’s kind of boring but your dad looks cool. I like his truck. Have you read the new Wolverine? I just found it, we can go find a spot and read it.” 

“Are you actually gonna let him speak airhead?” The smaller of the two sneers, her eyebrows pinching together in anger. “Or keep talking over him?” 

“I’m f-f-fin-ne.” Wiley smiles, moving forward to take a closer look at the comic in Lucas’ hands. 

“My parents made me bring her so she can play Pac man. Which she promised to do once we got here so scram forehead.” 

“Whatever Buck teeth.” She snaps back before heading to the pac man game while Wiley and Lucas dash to find a spot to read their comic. 

The friendship with Lucas was new. After school a couple days ago Wiley ran into him at the comic book store and at first he avoided him like he usually does. It had taken one bad play date with the wheeler kid to know that he would not belong in their group. They talked fast and often talked over each other.  He wouldn’t be able to keep up and he knew that his stutter bothered Wheeler. So he had never gone out of his way to talk to them. 

That is until Lucas saw Wiley holding a comic he was looking for and they ended up talking about marvel for a while….. Lucas talked and Wiley tried here and there. 

But he slowly realized that when he did choose to talk that Lucas was willing to wait, and he never talked over him to finish the sentence, he just waited. 

“I invited Dustin but he’s in a bit of trouble because he threw his bike in front of his garage and his mom nearly ran over it. Do you have a bike?” 

“I hav-ve my-my sist-ters old bike.” He explains, shrugging. “S-she spr-spraypaint-Ted it for me.” 

“You should ride your bike to school with us! Dustin passes my place and we normally meet at 7:40.” 

And just like that Wiley Fraser was making friends, and he barely had to talk. 

- 

October 15th, 1983 - Saturday - Steve 

It’s not like he planned on wasting the past two days thinking about Olivia Fraser. That’s just what happened, which was embarrassing considering the fact that he spent most of Friday afternoon sitting with Nancy Wheeler at the picnic tables outside after school. 

She was cute, in that nerdy notebook way. She made him smile and all things considered she wasn’t the worst he had flirted with, that prize went to the muppet from study hall. 

But Nancy Wheeler, as pretty and smart as she was, could not compete with Ollie in his mind. Ever since that interaction at the theater he found that she coated his mind like an oil spill. 

Hey, my tire on the car looks flat; suddenly he remembers the year his bike broke and she had to help him limp home. 

He needed to study for a history exam, suddenly he thinks back to the time they were doing homework at the table and she realized that she had been misspelling her name for years. Which had led to a full blown meltdown and she decided that she would steal his last name. 

Her teacher had sent back all her work with the last name Harrington crossed off on each and every one. And Ollie learned that her name was Fraser and not Frazier. 

Over and over and over. 

But it got bad when Barb reminded him of Nana. That is what hurt his heart the most. 

It was while he and Nancy were packing up after pretending to study and the redhead had come out to take her friend home. 

It started off easy with a simple “can we stop by the craft store on the way home?” 

And Nancy had simply responded “yeah. I love that place.” 

Steve hadn’t even realized the connection, and had been partially listening when Barbs next words made him stop. “Remember that older lady that used to work there? I miss her! She owned the house on Steves street didn’t she?” 

And just like that he is seeing Nana, the very last time he saw her. So frail and tired, so ready for the end and yet still so welcoming. Suddenly he is back to being that bloodied up kid who just needed to be near them. 

“Yeah I think.” He mumbles, snatching his books. “How am I supposed to know?” 

But it clung to him, of course it did. And he was still bothered by it a day later as he pulled into the general store with a bad attitude. 

His mom would be home that Wednesday, so he just needed groceries until she got back and he figured the best time to do so would be early afternoon when the store was at its peak so he wasn’t trapped in the silent house all day. Peak hours meant he could browse the aisles without having to worry about being stopped since everyone was in a rush. 

That was until he saw Flip with a basket in hand grabbing a box from one of the shelves near him. The man still wore his classic flannel, and his mouth was set into a from as he read on the box while Steve tried to figure out what he should do. 

Say hi right? Or had Ollie told him what a dick he had become? He should just walk away and pretend he didn’t even-

“Stevie! How ya’ doing pal?” Flip smiles, coming up to shake his hand. “It’s been way too long, bud.” 

“It’s good to see you Mr. Fraser.” He smiles awkwardly, his hand shaky in the hold of Flips. 

“Oh? Long enough to go back to the Mr. Fraser then? Or am I just that old now?” 

“No no. I just- I don’t know.” Steve laughs, moving out of the way of an older woman passing by. “It’s been awhile. I miss you guys.” 

The admission makes his skin heat up, still nervous about it all. 

“You need to come by for dinner. We haven’t had you over since we moved.” Flip mumbles, setting his basket down and pulling out a small notepad. Steve recognized it as one of the ones he used to carry around for contracting, so he could write down measurements and such. 

Taking the tiny pencil Flip sprawls something across the lines on the paper before ripping it out and handing it to the boy. 

“November 2nd we are making dinner for Lotties birthday. You should come over. That’s the address.” The man smiles, patting his back once more before heading to checkout while Steve stares at the paper in his hands with wide eyes. 

It was like a golden ticket had just been handed to him, a chance to be near the Fraser’s again and be near Ollie again. 

It was obvious he would go for dinner. The only problem was how mad Ollie was going to be when she found out.

{New Chapter out Monday}

[scarlett-vixen]

This is the second request in @ari-shipping-stuff request. I know I did E already but it’s my event I make the rules this was too cute to not do another one💖 I’m sorry this took so long 🥺 I thought about it every day though!!

Prompt: E - Excited

Pairing: Beelzebub x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff!

“Four hours, twenty-six minutes and twelve seconds…”

Though you were living rent free with the brothers you still needed a source of income to afford all the cool things you saw in stores…even if Asmo and Mammon were constantly trying to pay for you.

“Four hours, twenty-two minutes and three seconds…”

Days like this you regretted getting a job down here and not just living a spoiled life at the hands of seven demon lords.

Business had been slow and the store was practically empty yet your boss wasn’t willing to let you leave early. You stared at the clock counting the minutes until your shift ended, thinking of all the things you wanted to do once you got home.

Take a quick nap, check in with Levi and play a round or two of the current game you guys were tackling, seek help from Satan with that unfinished essay sitting on your desk, but more than anything you just wanted something to eat!

Mammon had offered to bring you lunch two hours ago and you turned him down, not wanting to owe him more than you already did, that was now on the long list of regrets plaguing your mind.

Solomon had stopped by earlier to do nothing more than harass you for being stuck behind a counter. You had shooed him out but now wished he was here again to entertain you.

You checked your phone.

“House of Lamentation (New): 75 unread messages”

“Nnnnnnnope! Not opening that right now.” Even with the boredom digging deeper into you, you were not about to skim through all those messages about who knows what.

You reached the point where you actually wished you had that essay here so you could finish it…this had to end soon.

***

After an agonizing four hours finally passed, you headed back to the house, stomach rumbling on the way. You considered just grabbing something from the kitchen but told yourself you deserved a reward for surviving total boredom all day.

You swung open your bedroom door and tossed your jacket on a nearby chair, quickly finding the sixth born sitting on the couch in your room. A massive grin on his face, a sweet sparkle in his eyes, you swore if he had a tail it would be wagging right now from excitement.

“Beel? What are you doing bud?” You chuckled as you asked. You didn’t really care, the sixth born was always welcome in your room since he always cleaned up after himself and respected your space.

“I was lonely so I came looking for you, but you were gone…I got worried so I decided to wait for you!”

“You— how long have you been here?” Noticing a small pile of empty chip bags next to him; neatly stacked as to not make a mess.

“About six hours now I guess, are you okay? You were gone for a long time!” His beaming face quickly turning to a look of concern.

“Six hou— Beel I was at work! It’s Thursday!” You were both stunned and impressed at his ability to sit here that long by himself. It comforted you to know that he was worried about your absence though.

“Oooooooh that makes sense…I guess I forgot, sorry” a small blush appeared on his cheeks.

“What do you normally do while I’m at work?” You questioned.

“Wait for you to come home…” The blush on his cheeks growing rapidly. He was so damn cute it would kill you eventually, before you could comfort him though you felt your stomach rumble.

“Well, since we both had to sit alone for a stupid long time why don’t we spend some time together and go get food?”

“OH! That reminds me!” Beel dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. “I had a coupon to Hell’s Kitchen and originally came looking for you to ask you to go with me…do you want to?”

You watched the excitement come rushing back to his body, eyes lighting up once more as he waited for your answer. You couldn’t blame him, after a day like this you were more than excited to spend time with him as well as fill your empty belly.

“Absolutely!”

[angelguk]

→ on my mind 02 — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 25.6k

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

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

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

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

header credit @dee-ehn <3

read the first part here

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

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

You could do this — it’s just a test.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Those are the longest five minutes of your life.

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

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

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

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

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

It’s one line. Negative.

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

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

Jeongguk knows right away something is off.

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

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

“Seungmin?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wouldn’t let you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

→

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jimin’s got her. She’s fine.”

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

“Three days isn’t long,” You comment.

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

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

“Go ahead.”

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

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

“No particular reason. Just curious.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Inside,” you murmur, “Cum inside.”

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

→

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two lines. On all three tests. Positive.

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

Pregnant. You’re pregnant.

→

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

It's Soomi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tears reappear, dripping down your cheeks fast.

“We stopped,” You croak out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really? Why? If I may ask.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

→

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

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

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

You’ll tell him tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

→

“You stink.”

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

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

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

“That bad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“....Bread.”

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

“No. Just plain bread.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

→

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you say. “We’d like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, that’s our baby.”

→

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeon–”

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

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

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

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

“But I want to you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All of this, only for me, right?”

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

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

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

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

“Forever.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

→

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

Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

→

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be nice, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He does.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You miss being pregnant?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

→

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Girl? Did my mom tell you?”

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

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

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

“And you called her stubborn.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She,” you return.

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

“Jeongguk!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not helping. Jeongguk!”

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

“Second drawer. The light blue ones.”

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

“Jeongguk,” you whisper.

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

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

“I am calm.”

You give him a look.

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

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

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

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

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

→

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

→

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course. Aren’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We should.”

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

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

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

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

“I love you too, Jeongguk.”

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter Five}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta’s time for mourning was up.

As she pulled into Elain’s driveway, reality set in. It would be her first day back at the restaurant since the accident, since her life was thrown completely upside down.

She wasn’t ready

But, she had no choice.

Elain was already smiling when she opened the door, reaching out to take Nyx. “Hi, my baby! Aunt Lainy and Seph are so excited to spend the day with you, yes we are.”

“I’m glad, because Aunt Nesta isn’t so excited to not be spending the day with him,” she said, sighing.

Elain gave her sister a wistful look. “I get that. How about Cass, how did he feel going back to work last night?”

Nesta snorted. “Don’t know. He never came back. They started inventory around two this morning after last call, according to the short text I woke up to. He says he’ll be there for most of the day.”

Elain lifted a brow. “Wow.”

Nesta blinked. “He’s a bartender, what do you expect?”

“No,” Elain chuckled. “I meant: wow, looks like you two are actually communicating. I’m shocked.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “We’ve been living together for three days. If we weren’t communicating, what exactly would we be doing instead?”

Elain carried Nyx into the living room, sitting him down in the playpen she’d set up in the corner. “I mean, honestly, Az and I just figured you were pretending each other didn’t exist.”

For all intents and purposes, they had been, but they had made sure to talk about important things. Like whether Nyx had been fed, when he needed to go down for his nap and what the schedule for the next day would look like.

To be totally honest, she hadn’t even realized Cassian had her number until she’d woken up to a text from one she didn’t have saved in her phone.

“We’re…adjusting,” she finally said, watching as Nyx crawled over to the pile of toys in the corner of the playpen. “I gave him a bath last night, and he said he would handle the next one, since he had to go to work. But… Gods, Elain, giving a one-year-old a bath is exhausting. I looked like I’d just left the pool, not to mention the entire bathroom was soaked.”

Elain chuckled and shook her head. “Seph loves baths, but we’re still having them in the sink right now. She’s not quite ready for the bathtub yet.”

The baby in question was asleep in a bouncer, resting on the floor by the couch.

Nesta glanced at her watch, whatever reply she had falling from her lips. “Shit, I have to go, I’ll be late.”

“Go,” Elain said, wrapping her sister up in a hug. “The day will fly by and you’ll be home with Nyx before you know it.”

Nesta nodded, even though her core was filled with dread.

Nonetheless, she was across town in fifteen minutes, hurrying into the café just before nine. She tossed her purse behind her desk after she unlocked the door to her office and looked around, only to find everything exactly where she had left it.

With a sigh, she pulled a bottle of water out of her mini-fridge, only to find it completely warm. They must have unplugged it when they were cleaning. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She didn’t have time to think on it too much, though, because there was a knock on her office door, her manager’s voice calling her name through the wood.

Her first day back had officially begun.

*

Cassian was exhausted.

For the past couple hours, he felt like he was lost somewhere in a dream. Now, as he continued to stare at the shelves of liquor in the back room, he debated curling up in the corner and falling asleep.

He’d messed up so many drink orders the night before, worrying about whether Nyx was okay or if Nesta had forgotten to do anything for him. He knew Nesta was perfectly capable of taking care of Nyx, had been doing so since Rhys and Feyre had died. But he still worried about him constantly.

He yawned as he shoved a box of tequila up onto the top shelf, turning to see how much was left.

Only to find the store room empty of boxes. He let over a relieved sigh, pulling out his phone.

10:37

He knew the opener would be in at eleven, a shift that was usually his, but as the manager, he preferred to ensure inventory was done correctly, and with such a big shipment, thanks to his unexpected time off, he told them he would work the night before.

His feet damn near shuffling across the floor, he made his way into the office and sat down at the desk, to wait for Kallias. He didn’t see a reason to lock the place up when Kal would be here five minutes later to start setting up.

He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he heard a knocking on the office door and sat up quickly, his feet falling from where he’d propped them on top of the desk.

Cassian found Kallias standing in the doorway, a small smirk on his lips. “Baby keeping you up at night already?”

He yawned, dragging a hand down his face. “No. Well, sometimes, but not this time. Didn’t finish inventory until about fifteen minutes ago.”

Kallias whistled. “Damn. You should’ve called. I would’ve come help.” Cassian shrugged. “No use having both of us exhausted.”

Kallias just shook his head. “If you say so. Go home, Cass. Get some sleep. I’ve got everything under control.”

Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. He stood, clapped Kallias on the shoulder, and walked out to the parking lot. After hopping into his truck, Cassian dozed off.

And six hours later, he woke up, his head against his steering wall, his neck hurting like hell, and his chin glistening with his slobber.

It wasn’t an attractive sight.

After a curse, he looked at the clock on the dash, and swore again.

It was just after five.

The truck was in gear and he was speeding home seconds later. When he rounded the corner, Nesta’s car was already in the driveway.

He parked beside her, hopping out and hurrying to the back door. When he threw it open, he found her standing at the stove, stirring something in a pan. It smelled delicious.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, collapsing in the nearest chair at the kitchen table, his head dropped into his hands in exhaustion. Even after his impromptu nap in the truck, he still felt like he needed another eight hours sleep. “Inventory took way longer than usual and then I passed out in the truck.” He shook his head, letting his obvious exhaustion explain the rest to her.

“It’s fine.”

He looked up and glanced at her stiff back. She hadn’t turned back to look at him, was completely focused on whatever she cooked on the stove.

Her tone said it absolutely was not fine.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I’d been awake for over twenty-six hours.”

“Elain had to reschedule a shoot with a client tonight. She was expecting you to come pick up Nyx after you got off and got some sleep.”

He cringed. Nesta had texted him around ten, while he was still focused on inventory, asking him to get Nyx from Elain before three. He didn’t ask why, had honestly forgotten she’d even texted him.

“I’ll call her later, I’ll apologize,” he sighed.

Nesta turned abruptly and tossed the towel she was using to hold the warm handle on the counter. She was pissed, he’d seen that look in her eyes more than once. “I get that you worked and you were tired, but you have to be more responsible, Cassian.”

“I said I was fucking sorry,” he said, standing. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep in my truck, but I did. I’m fucking sorry.”

She rolled her eyes, but turned back to the stove.

Cassian scoffed, and was nearly ready to bite her head off, but then Nyx’s soft cries came from the living room.

“He fell asleep in the pack and play,” Nesta said, continuing to stir what she had on the stove.

Cassian took that as his dismissal. He hurried into the living room and picked up Nyx, who was standing up in his pack and play, gripping the edge. When he saw Cassian, his hands shot straight in the air.

“Hey buddy,” he said, quietly, as he lifted Nyx out of his pack and play. Nyx instantly relaxed in his arms, laying his head on Cassian’s shoulder.

“He’s probably hungry,” Nesta said, as the boys made their way back into the kitchen.

“I’m aware,” Cassian snapped.

Nesta’s shoulders tensed.

Cassian said nothing more as he opened the fridge and took out some leftover mashed potatoes, Nyx’s favorite.

“He should have some kind of protein with that,” Nesta said, her back still to them.

Cassian spun around, exasperated. “Shit, anything else you’d like to add?”

She said nothing, pretending he didn’t even speak. Cassian didn’t say anything else, but he fixed him a bottle, and set Nyx in his high chair. As Cassian shook it, Nyx held out his hands, reaching for it. He gave it to him, turning to the microwave to heat up the potatoes.

He heard plates being set down at the table and found Nesta setting two plates full of stir fry on the table.

He hesitated, but moved Nyx’s high chair closer to the table. He took the already empty bottle from him and got a small spoonful of potatoes for him. He quietly said, “You didn’t need to cook for me,” as he fed Nyx.

“I made too much,” she replied, simply, sitting across from him. She didn’t meet his eyes as she took a bite.

He watched as her eyelashes fluttered in satisfaction.

As Nyx grabbed his bowl from the end of his high chair and stuck his face into it, Cassian looked down at his own plate, at the steak, broccoli, peppers, peeled carrots, and snap peas that sat before him.

It smelled delicious.

He hesitantly took a bite as Nyx clapped his hands and began to babble.

“Afraid I may poison you?” Nesta asked.

Cassian blinked, meeting her eyes. They remained like that for a moment, staring at one another, then Cassian took another bite. “It’s good. Thanks.”

“I made too much,” she repeated. “Cut Nyx up some of the steak. It’s tender enough for him to eat, just make sure the pieces are tiny. The broccoli, too. He likes broccoli.”

Cassian did as he was told without a word. He set the food in front of Nyx, who instantly had his chubby little hands on them.

“Don’t think I’ll be cooking every night,” Nesta said, in the middle of their otherwise silent meal.

“I wouldn’t think of it,” Cassian said, then cleared his throat. “I can cook sometimes, too. I’m not bad in the kitchen.” A look crossed Nesta’s face that said she didn’t quite believe that statement.

“I make a mean breakfast,” he said, after chewing through another bite. “I’ll show you. We’ll do breakfast for dinner one night.”

Nesta nodded, but Cassian couldn’t tell if that was confirmation or just agreeing to shut him up. After a minute, she set down her fork and cleared her throat. “Speaking of breakfast, I’d prefer to not share the table with any friends you may bring home.”

Cassian’s brows lowered, not fully understanding. And then what she was saying clicked and he was coughing around the bite of food he’d been swallowing. He drank from the glass of water he’d grabbed, and cleared his throat, ensuring he could breathe. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

“If I live here, it is my concern,” she said, going right back to eating, as if she hadn’t just brought up an extremely unexpected topic. “I don’t want Nyx to see a revolving door of women leaving either, he doesn’t need to get the wrong idea.”

Cassian could only stare at her, though when Nyx heard his name, he paused his eating to look up at her. He finally said, “He’s one, first of all, so he has no idea what that would even mean, and secondly, I can have whoever the hell I want here, and they can stay for breakfast. I live here, too.”

“Would you care to see an endless string of men coming out of my bedroom every morning?” Nesta asked, her tone light, but her eyes full of hellfire.

Cassian’s chewing slowed. No, he wouldn’t care to see that, but he’d never admit it. He wasn’t even one to bring women home...well, at least not often, but apparently she thought of him as some unhinged casanova.

“As long as you ask me to join, I don’t care who you bring home,” Cassian said.

Now it was Nesta’s turn to choke on the bite of steak she just took. Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red as her eyes watered. After catching her breath and taking a long drink of water, she said, “That’s inappropriate.”

Nyx giggled, his lips covered in mashed potatoes, as if Nesta had just said the most hilarious thing in the world.

He took one last bite of his food before standing and carrying his plate over to the sink. “You don’t bring up my sex life and I won’t bring up yours. Deal?”

“Fine,” she said, picking up her plate as well and dropping it next to his on the counter. “You take care of the dishes, I’ll give Nyx his bath.”

“Fine.” That seemed to be their word to end conversations, as most of them ended with one of them snapping the word at the other, and it being repeated right back to them.

He wanted to fling more insults at her, wanted to snap that he wasn’t the man-whore she apparently thought he was. He never had been, despite the obscene amount of those stupid condoms she’d seen in his glove box all those years ago. But he knew she wouldn’t believe him.

He heard her unclipping Nyx’s high chair and then she was carrying him upstairs. Cassian was already wrist deep in soapy water when he heard the bathtub running from upstairs.

It was then that he realized he had originally told Nesta that he would give Nyx a bath tonight.

He didn’t pick him up from Elain’s.

He didn’t give him a bath like he said he would.

Maybe Nesta was right.

Maybe he was just setting himself up for failure.

As he scrubbed at the dishes, Cassian felt that sense of failure wash over him and sent a thought to Rhysand, wherever he was, hoping that his oldest friend wasn’t as disappointed in him as he was.

[diegos-butt]

Unnoticed (chapter four)

Summary: He had watch her grown up. He had seen her transform into a beautiful woman, with a strong will but insecurities. Despite being away from time to time, he had fallen for her, hard. She on the other hand, had seen him become a big, strong man. But deep down she knew he had a soft side. She had fallen, hard, for him too. Another thing they have in common? The believe that the other will never feel the same. Will their feelings for each other always stay unnoticed?

Captain Daniel Syverson x Kathy Davis (plus size/curvy/thick OFC)

Warnings: attempted winking, filthy thoughts. Just the usual guys, no worries.

Wordcount: 5.9k

A/N: I hope you like this ✨

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three

•••

I had been trying to distract myself all week after the little incident with Sy. Yes, I had declared it as a little incident, and I had been avoiding talking about it. Which, obviously, failed since I didn’t show up for the Friday night dinner at the pub, so my phone had exploded with texts from Brianna, Holly and even the guys. I assured them I was fine and I just had a headache.

Brianna and Holly didn’t buy it and they came to visit me on Saturday. They tried to tell me Sy didn’t meant what he said, that he just had misphrased his words. I really wanted to believe them, but the self-doubt in me wouldn’t allow it.

The week passed slowly, I kept myself busy with work and chores. On Thursday I had literally finished all my work for the week, so Brianna insisted I’d take a day off from work the day after.

“Seriously Kathy, you are going to take a day off tomorrow. Relax a bit. Talk to Sy. Clear the air,” Brianna said as I walked inside her office for no reason for the fifth time that day.

“Fine, I will take a day off, but I will not talk to Sy,” I answered and sat down in a chair in front of her desk. But maybe I should? He has been texting me every day. Maybe I should hear him out?

“Look, if you don’t talk to him tomorrow, I will make sure it happens this weekend. And I’ll be there. I doubt you want to discuss your feelings for him with me next to you,” Brianna smirked. The minx.

“You’re threatening me now?” I laughed but I knew she was dead serious. “Maybe, maybe I will talk to him tomorrow, okay?”

“It is not a yes, yet, but I’ll do for now.”

Soon after our conversation ended, we both went home. Feeling restless, I spend my Thursday night cleaning the house. That did mean I had the entire Friday to do nothing, to relax and sleep in. Well, that’s what I thought.

I woke up to the loud ringing of my doorbell. Confused I sat up, I wasn’t expecting anyone. Slowly I walked to the front door, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I unlocked and opened the door to see a large man in front of me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Sy.

“Good morning darlin’, Brianna told me ya had a day off so I thought we could have breakfast,” he said and held up a basket filled with different kinds of bread, fruit, and other delicious food.

Even more confused I kept staring at him. He cocked his eyebrow and gestured me to let him in.

“Oh, yeah sorry, come in,” I muttered and let him walk past me. Suddenly I realized I was in my pyjamas, a cami top and shorts. It was a little revealing, but since I grew up with him, he had seen me in my bikini multiple times, so I didn’t care.

I watched Sy march into my kitchen and unloading the basket on the small table. He stood with his back to me, and I nearly drooled. That ass is illegal. Really fucking illegal. That back also. God, it just begs me to leave scratch marks with my fingernails on it.

Sy coughed and I realized I had been staring a little too obvious. Feeling my cheeks heat up, I walked towards him.

“Having breakfast is nice, but why on earth did you have to show up this early?” I pointed at the clock on the wall.

“It’s not early. It is already 8.30am,” Sy said and pulled out a chair for me. I sat down, and his fingers grazed my shoulders softly.

“That’s early. Especially on a day off. I’m allowed to sleep until 10am, at least.” I yawned excessively and watched Sy sat down opposite of me. He chuckled and poured me a cup of coffee. “You even brought coffee?”

“Figured ya needed it, to wake up,” he said and poured a cup for himself too. I took a sip, and it was delicious. Immediately I felt a little more awake, and a bit more aware of how I looked. I placed the cup down again and tried to fix my hair the best I could.

Sy had started eating, so I did too. We ate in silence, and I tried to make eye contact with him, but he kept looking away.

“Sy, why are you here?” I asked after we finished eating. I hated arguing, but I hated not expressing emotions even more. Kind of ironic, I know.

“Well, I think this not speaking to me thing of ya has lasted long enough,” he started. “So, I thought we could talk about it. And since ya let me in, and haven’t scratched out my eyes, I think ya wanna talk too.”

I took the last sip of my coffee and pushed a piece of pineapple around on my plate. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” Sy said softly. His eyes met mine and for a second, I thought I saw he was a bit scared. What the hell are you scared of?

“Okay, maybe I have overreacted a bit. Maybe,” I whispered.

“And I should have phrased my words differently. I like being around ya and I prefer your company over everyone else’s.” He grabbed my hands and held them tight. My heart skipped a few beats and a smile formed on my face.

“I like being around you too captain,” I smiled. “But maybe don’t phrase your words like that again, okay?” He squeezed my hands one more time and let them go again.

“I’ll try my best darlin’,” he winked. Well, he tried to wink. I snorted out loud and nearly knocked the coffee cup off the table.

“You’re really doing this on purpose now don’t you?” I said and wiped a tear away that was rolling down my cheek. “You’re really so stubborn you’re not going to admit you can’t wink?”

“Be careful darlin’, you’re quite stubborn yourself,” he laughed and stood up to clear the table. I helped him and together we placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

“So, what are ya plans for today?” Sy asked while he was leaning against the counter.

“I don’t have plans honestly, you?”

“I was planning on helping my momma in the garden. Ya wanna help?” he said. I thought I could sense an undertone of uncertainty, but it was gone the second the sentence was over. Spending the day with you. In the garden. While you’re probably going to sweat. Oh god what if he takes his shirt off. Kat, keep it together.

“Yes, of course! I just need to get dressed, I’ll be back in a second,” I said and started to walk away but turned around as I heard Sy speak up.

“No need darlin’, ya could wear this,” Sy smirked.

“Very funny captain.” I shook my head and walked out of the kitchen, but before I was out of the room, I looked over my shoulder. I caught Sy looking at my ass and licking his lips. Quickly I looked in front of me again and walked to my bedroom, giggling. Please tell me I am not just seeing what I want to see. He really checked me out right?

I quickly freshened up and got dressed. I wore a pair of jeans that accentuated my ass even better. If he’s gonna stare at it, might put them of their best display.

Sy was waiting for me on the couch, he stood up as soon as I walked in the room. He smiled at me and followed me to the front door. I locked up behind us and he guided me to this truck. Sy opened the door for me, and gratefully I climbed in.

During the short drive to his parents’ house, we talked like nothing had happened. I was happy about it; I wasn’t one to keep hanging on to the past. Soon, he parked the car in front of the house. We stepped out, only to meet his parents.

“Kathy! Sweety, how lovely to see you!” Sy’s mother said and gave me a kiss on my cheek.

“It’s really nice to see you too!” I said and nodded at Sy’s father. You could easily tell they were Sy’s parents. He had his mother’s eyes and nose, while he had his father’s physique.

“I would love to chat with you, but we are on our way to meet some friends. We will catch up soon, okay?” Sy’s mother continued.

“I thought we were gonna work in the garden?” Sy asked, and I could see the visible confusion on his face. I might be crazy but are his parents trying to set us up now too?

“Yes, but Jane called if we would like to have lunch. Who are we to decline such a lovely offer? But you and Kathy could work in the garden!” she said, and I noticed Sy’s father walk towards his car. Was he laughing?

“Come sweetheart, let’s go,” Sy’s father said and held the car door open for his wife. She gave Sy a kiss on the cheek and stepped in the car. Sy’s father did so too and started the car. Before he drove off, Sy’s mother opened her window. “Have fun you two!” she yelled and winked at us. Definitely trying to set us up.

“At least your mom can wink,” I deadpanned.

“Oh, shut up,” Sy groaned, and I laughed out loud. He turned around and walked around the house to the garden, I followed close behind.

“So, what do we need to do captain?” I asked Sy as we walked into the large garden. Most of it covered with grass, the areas on the outside were filled with different types of flowers and plants.

“We need to remove the weeds between the plants and flowers,” Sy said and walked into the little shed to collect some tools for us to use.

After an hour of working hard, pulling out weeds, I started to get a little tired. Sy and I didn’t talk much while we worked side by side. I did look at him from time to time. I watched his big arms pulling the weeds out effortless and I noticed he had started to sweat a little. The sight of it made me nearly faint. Sy also let out a few grunts every now and then. Are you trying to make me jump you Sy?

“You want something to drink?” I asked Sy as I was starting to get a bit thirsty. Not only thirsty for something to drink though.

“Yeah, thanks darlin’,” he answered and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

I nodded and stood up. I proceeded to walk to Sy’s cabin, which was practically hidden in the far back of the garden between trees. I wasn’t even three steps away from Sy when I stepped on an uneven patch of grass. My ankle twisted and before I knew it, I was on the ground.

“Ouch!” I murmured and grabbed my ankle.

“What did ya do?” Sy said as he kneeled beside me. He placed one of his hands on my shoulder and looked at me worried.

“Just sprained my ankle, it’s no big deal,” I said. Sy held out his hand for me and helped me get up. I hissed in pain when I tried to stand on the sprained ankle.

“Yeah, right, no big deal uh?” Suddenly Sy lifted me up bridal style, and I let out a squeal.

“Sy, what are you doing?!” I clasped my arms around his neck, worried for a second, he might drop me, but then I remembered he was more than capable of carrying me.

He didn’t answer me, he just placed me on one of the lounge chairs and walked inside his parents’ house to grab a pillow from the couch. In mere seconds he returned and placed the pillow under my sprained ankle. He had also bought back two bottles of water and handed me one.

“Ya stay here and let that ankle rest for a bit. I might not be able to wink, but you can’t walk apparently,” he mocked.

I laughed and watched him walk away, to finish our work in the garden. While sipping from my water I admired him. His shirt now sticking to his body from the sweat, accentuating his physique even more. That man sweating and grunting above me? I might not survive that. Not that I would complain though. Maybe we should start with a kiss. Oh my god I wanna kiss him so badly. Is he licking his lips? Sy don’t fucking tease me.

After 30 minutes of me obviously checking out Sy, he stopped working. I guessed he was finished. His eyes locked with mine and we both smiled. He walked over to me, and I sat up a bit straighter.

“How’s that ankle doing?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s alright. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”

“How can ya know when ya haven’t stood on it since it happened?” Sy cocked his eyebrow. He did have a point, but I wasn’t one to admit I was in pain.

Sy held his hand out for me, I took it and he helped me stand up. Once I stood on both feet again, it was obvious my ankle still hurt.

“Ya are clearly not in pain anymore,” Sy pointed out and chuckled. “Come on, I’ll wrap it for ya. I have an emergency kit in my cabin.” Next thing I knew I was in his arms again, bridal style.

“Sy! You know I can walk!” I yelped and wrapped my arms around his sweaty neck. “Also, you’re sweaty.”

“Ya can’t walk with that ankle. And don’t pretend ya mind I’m a bit sweaty darlin’, I saw ya staring at me.” I felt my cheeks burn and was lost for words for a moment.

Sy carried me inside his cabin, he even managed to open the door while still carrying me. He walked inside his bedroom and placed me on his huge bed. He went into his bathroom and returned with the emergency kit.

“Come here,” Sy said and kneeled in front of me, placing my foot on his knee. He carefully started wrapping my ankle with a bandage. His large hands managed to make my foot look small in his hand, and I let out a giggle.

A few minutes later he was done. He stood up again and pointed at my jeans. They had grass stains on it from my fall. “If ya want, ya could wear some of my sweats,” he offered.

“Very nice offer captain, but in case you haven’t noticed, my ass won’t fit into those,” I smirked.

“Yeah right, I have a big ass too,” he huffed and turned his back to me to wiggle his ass.

“Oh, you do, you really do. But mine is still bigger,” I laughed. Sy shook his head and a playful smile formed on his face.

“I wouldn’t mind helping ya change into my sweats though, maybe they’ll fit with my help,” Sy smirked.

“You’re just trying to get me out of my pants or what?” I laughed. I could tell he wanted to say something, but he shook his head again and grabbed to emergency kit. He walked inside the bathroom, leaving me alone on the bed.

I reached down to touch my ankle. He had wrapped it nicely. I was about to retrieve my hand when I bumped into something underneath the bed. Curious about what it was, I grabbed it. It was a box I had never seen before. I hesitated to look inside, but then the lid popped open. My letters were inside. The letters I had send him while he was away. He kept my letters? Underneath is bed?

A cough caught my attention, and I saw Sy standing awkwardly in front of me.

“You kept my letters?” I asked him, still a bit surprised.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I like them. I like reading them. They are kinda comforting,” he said and scratched the back of his head. I could tell he was a bit uncomfortable. “I sometimes read them before I go to sleep,” Sy continued.

“That is really sweet Sy,” I said and stood up. Quickly his hand grabbed my elbow, to make sure I wouldn’t have to stand on my sprained ankle. His eyes locked with mine, and suddenly my heart was beating faster than ever before.

We stood in front of each other, unsure of what to say next. Awkwardly, I looked at the ground until he lifted my chin up with his finger.

“You know what? Fuck it. Kat, darlin’, would ya like to go on a date with me?”

The whole week was dreadful. Ever since Friday I felt like an idiot, and everyone told me so. Friday night dinner at the pub was not she same without her. As soon as I had finished my meal, I went home. I had hoped she would’ve showed up so we could talk it out. Unfortunately, she didn’t. Kat also didn’t answer my calls or messages. I hated texting, but I tried it anyway.

Working with the guys had been quite annoying the last few days. They used every opportunity to call me out of my actions and told me I just had to go see Kat. They thought she would talk to me if I’d just show up. I had thought about it, and Tuesday late in the afternoon I drove to her house. I waited in my truck but when she came home, I could tell by her movements she was not in the mood to talk. Sighing, I drove back home.

Now, on Thursday, I was starting to get fed up with Kat still ignoring me. I promised myself I would go see her tonight. That was until I got a call.

“Brianna?” I answered the phone.

“Sy, hi. Thank god you picked up,” Brianna spoke.

“Why wouldn’t I pick up?”

“You never pick up, but never mind. The reason I’m calling is Kat, obviously,” she continued.

“Is she alright?” I asked.

“She is fine but could do better. That is actually why I’m calling. I think it is time you two talk this thing out.”

“I’ve been trying, but she wouldn’t answer my calls or texts. I’m gonna go over tonight.” I mean, I should, right?

“Good! You definitely should go see her. You know how stubborn she can be,” Brianna laughed. “But I just tried to talk some sense into her, and I think she is ready to talk to you. She is taking the day off tomorrow, so maybe you could see her then?”

“Yeah sure. Thanks for calling Bri.” After we said goodbye, I hung up the phone. Guess it’s better if I go see her tomorrow, maybe we could spend the day together?

The next morning, I woke up early, really early. I twisted and turned in bed, but I couldn’t sleep again. I wanted to see Kat and talk it out. She couldn’t stay mad forever, right? With a groan I climbed out of bed and took a shower. While I was showering, an idea popped up in my head. Maybe I could surprise her with breakfast?

Satisfied with my plan, I quickly got dressed and went into the kitchen to search for breakfast food. I opened the fridge, and noticed it was nearly empty. Shit. Luckily, I knew I could find everything I needed in my momma’s kitchen.

A few minutes later I stood in the kitchen in my parents’ house, a small perk of living in the cabin in the garden. Hopefully, I would have a house of my own soon. I better make this right with Kat if I wanna buy a house with her.

“What are you doing honey?” I heard my mom’s voice behind me while I had collected a nice pile of food.

“Uhm, grabbing breakfast,” I answered.

“That’s a lot of food for one person, even for you. Spill it,” she said with a stern voice.

Knowing my mom, I knew she would keep me here until I told her the truth. “Made a mistake, so I’m gonna make it right.” She simply raised her eyebrow as she handed me a basket to place the food in. “Fine, I need to make something right with Kat.”

“Ah, I see. Well, you better make it right indeed if you ever intend on marrying her,” she spoke while she helped me fill the basket. “I like that girl, and so do you honey. Don’t mess it up with her, would you?”

After a monologue from my mom why I had to make it right with Kat, I finally managed to leave the house and drive to Kat’s after I promised to help her in the garden later that day. A little nervous I parked the car in front of Kat’s house. I stepped out and grabbed the basket, slowly I walked to her front door. What if she doesn’t want to see me?

I rang the doorbell and knocked on her door. Well, I don’t care if she doesn’t wanna see me, we are gonna talk this out right now. If she wants or not. The door opened, and a very sleepy Kat appeared in front of me. She looked adorable while she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” she asked me.

“Good morning darlin’, Brianna told me ya had a day off so I thought we could have breakfast,” I said and held up the basket filled with different kinds of bread, fruit, and other delicious food. Confused she started at me, I cocked my eyebrow and she stepped aside to let me in.

“Oh, yeah sorry, come in,” she muttered, and I walked past her. She was in her pyjamas, a little cami top and shorts. Ya teasing me on purpose? I tried to not stare at her cleavage too much as I was passing her. I wanted to take her in my arms, and let my hands wander over her body. To prevent myself from grabbing her right there, I walked into the kitchen and unloaded the basket on her little table.

After I was done, I turned around and saw her eyes were glued to my back. With a simple cough, I gained her attention again and she walked up to me. Was she checking me out?

“Having breakfast is nice, but why on earth did you have to show up this early?” Kat pointed at the clock on the wall.

“It’s not early. It is already 8.30am,” I said and pulled out a chair for her. She sat down, and I couldn’t resist to touch her shoulders softly. Just let me place kisses all over ya soft skin darlin’.

“That’s early. Especially on a day off. I’m allowed to sleep until 10am, at least.” She yawned excessively. I chuckled and sat down opposite of her. I grabbed the thermos and poured her a cup of coffee. “You even brought coffee?”

“Figured ya needed it, to wake up,” I said and poured a cup for myself too. We both started eating, in silence. I could tell she was looking for eye contact, but I wasn’t quite sure of what to say yet, so I kept avoiding it.

“Sy, why are you here?” she asked after we finished eating. Well, here we go.

“Well, I think this not speaking to me thing of ya has lasted long enough,” I started. “So, I thought we could talk about it. And since ya let me in, and haven’t scratched out my eyes, I think ya wanna talk too.”

She took the last sip of her coffee and played with a piece of fruit on her plate. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” I whispered. Do I tell her what I feel now? Or are we gonna play pretend for a little longer?

“Okay, maybe I have overreacted a bit. Maybe,” she whispered.

“And I should have phrased my words differently. I like being around ya and I prefer your company over everyone else’s.” I grabbed her hands and held them tight. Her large hands felt good in mine, like a perfect fit. A smile formed on her face. Okay playing pretend for a little while longer it is. I didn’t want to ruin something when I wasn’t sure she felt the same, but I wasn’t sure for how long I could keep this up.

“I like being around you too captain,” she smiled. “But maybe don’t phrase your words like that again, okay?” I squeezed her hands one more time and let them go again.

“I’ll try my best darlin’,” I winked, well knowing I couldn’t. I knew she would laugh about it. and I was right, she snorted out loud and nearly knocked the coffee cup off the table.

“You’re really doing this on purpose now don’t you?” she said and wiped a tear away that was rolling down her cheek. “You’re really so stubborn you’re not going to admit you can’t wink?”

“Be careful darlin’, you’re quite stubborn yourself,” I laughed and stood up to clear the table. She helped me and together we placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

“So, what are ya plans for today?” I asked while leaning against the counter. Ya better have none.

“I don’t have plans honestly, you?”

“I was planning on helping my momma in the garden. Ya wanna help?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if she would want to help, but I just wanted to spend time with her without it being forced or feel awkward.

“Yes, of course! I just need to get dressed, I’ll be back in a second,” she said and started to walk away. Get dressed? Ya better don’t wear more than this. I’d prefer ya clothes on the floor.

“No need darlin’, ya could wear this,” I smirked. A little teasing wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“Very funny captain.” She shook her head and walked out of the kitchen. I watched her walk away, admiring her ass and thinking about how I’d want to slap it. Wait, did she just saw me staring at her ass? Oh, who cares. She has a nice ass, so I am obliged to look at it.

I waited on her couch, and a few moments later she returned. She wore a tight pair of jeans, hugging her figure and making her behind look even better. Her ass would look better naked though.

She smiled at me as I stood up and followed her to the front door. She locked up, and we walked to my truck. I opened the door for her and helped her get in.

While chatting, I drove home. It felt like nothing ever happened, which I was glad about. After a couple of minutes, I parked the car in front of the house. I immediately saw my mom and dad come out of the house. Oh no.

“Kathy! Sweety, how lovely to see you!” My mom said and gave Kat a kiss on her cheek. She better not embarrass me in front of Kat.

“It’s really nice to see you too!” Kat answered and gave my dad a nod. My parents had always liked Kat, and they had told me many times. At one point, I thought my mom would force me to marry her. Not that I would mind marrying her.

“I would love to chat with you, but we are on our way to meet some friends. We will catch up soon, okay?” my mom continued. They did not have any plans today. Are they trying to set us up now too?

“I thought we were gonna work in the garden?” I asked confused.

“Yes, but Jane called if we would like to have lunch. Who are we to decline such a lovely offer? But you and Kathy could work in the garden!” she said, and I noticed my dad walk towards his car. Was he trying to supress a laugh?

“Come sweetheart, let’s go,” my dad said to my mom and held the car door open for her. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and stepped in the car. My father started the car and wanted to drive off, but my mom opened the window before he could. “Have fun you two!” she yelled and winked at us. Oh, come on.

“At least your mom can wink,” Kat deadpanned.

“Oh, shut up,” I groaned, and Kat laughed out loud. I turned around and walked around the house to the garden, Kat followed close behind.

“So, what do we need to do captain?” she asked me as we walked into the large garden. Most of it covered with grass, the areas on the outside were filled with different types of flowers and plants my mother had planted over the years.

“We need to remove the weeds between the plants and flowers,” I said and walked into the little shed to collect some tools for us to use.

@We worked next to each other for the next hour. We didn’t talk but, it was comfortable. I watched her whenever she couldn’t see. She looked pretty, as always. She licked her lips every now and then, almost like she was begging me to kiss her.

“You want something to drink?” she asked and pulled me out of my thoughts. Yeah, I’m thirsty but not only for a drink darlin’.

“Yeah, thanks darlin’,” I answered and wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.

She nodded and looked at me. She walked to my cabin, but before she could reach it, I saw how she twisted her ankle and fell.

“Ouch!” she murmured and grabbed her ankle.

“What did ya do?” I said as he kneeled beside her as fast as I could. One of my hands found its way to her shoulder, the other hovered above her ankle.

“Just sprained my ankle, it’s no big deal,” she said. I held out my hand for her and helped her get up. Immediately, she hissed in pain when she tried to stand on the sprained ankle.

“Yeah, right, no big deal uh?” I spoke. No way she was going to walk right now. She needed to give her ankle some rest. I lifted her up bridal style and she let out a squeal.

“Sy, what are you doing?!” She wrapped her arms around tightly around my neck. If ya wanna choke me, let’s do that in a different situation darlin’. I might let ya.

I didn’t feel like she needed an answer to her question. Instead, I placed her down on one of the lounge chairs. I quickly walked inside afterwards and grabbed a pillow from the couch. I also grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge. When I came back, she was still seated on the lounge chair. Good girl. I was afraid she might have tried to stand up again.

“Ya stay here and let that ankle rest for a bit. I might not be able to wink, but you can’t walk apparently,” I mocked. She laughed, and I walked away to finish the work while chugging down the bottle of water.

It was hot and I started to sweat more and more. I wanted to take a nice, cold shower. Maybe I could persuade her of taking the shower with me? Shaking the thought off, I focused on pulling out the weeds.

After 30 minutes I was done. I had noticed Kat had been looking at me the entire time. That has to be a good sign, right? I looked at her and our eyes met, quickly I walked over to her.

“How’s that ankle doing?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s alright. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore,” Kat answered.

“How can ya know when ya haven’t stood on it since it happened?” I cocked my eyebrow. She hadn’t stood up since I had laid her down there, there now no way she could know the pain was gone.

I held my hand out for her. She took it and I helped me stand up. Once she was on both feet again, it was obvious that she was still in pain.

“Ya are clearly not in pain anymore,” I chuckled. “Come on, I’ll wrap it for ya. I have an emergency kit in my cabin.” I picked her up in my arms again, enjoying having her close to me.

“Sy! You know I can walk!” she yelped and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Also, you’re sweaty.”

“Ya can’t walk with that ankle. And don’t pretend you mind I’m a bit sweaty darlin’, I saw ya staring at me.” She gasped, and I chuckled. I carried her inside my cabin and sat her down on my bed. I walked into the bathroom and grabbed the emergency kit.

“Come here,” I said and kneeled in front of her. I gently grabbed her foot and placed it on my knee. I started to wrap her ankle carefully with a bandage. Her ankle was a little swollen, but it would be fine.

Soon, I was done. I stood up again and noticed the grass stains on her jeans. “If ya want, ya could wear some of my sweats,” I offered.

“Very nice offer captain, but in case you haven’t noticed, my ass won’t fit into those,” she smiled.

“Yeah right, I have a big ass too,” I huffed and turned my back to her to sway my ass.

“Oh, you do, you really do. But mine is still bigger,” she laughed. I laughed and shook my head.

“I wouldn’t mind helping ya change into my sweats though, maybe they’ll fit with my help,” I smirked. I really wouldn’t mind helping ya out of those jeans.

“You’re just trying to get me out of my pants or what?” she laughed. Yes. Fuck yes. I shook my head, grabbed the emergency kit, and walked back inside the bathroom.

I started in the mirror and noticed my sweaty face. I grabbed a washcloth, and quickly washed my face. Keep it together Sy. Or maybe I should just tell her. Maybe I could just ask her out? Don’t tell me she looks at me like that and not feel what I feel.

With a boost of confidence, I walked into the bedroom again. Kat is still on my bed, but this time she is holding the box with her letters. She was not supposed to find those. I coughed awkwardly, and she looked up.

“You kept my letters?” she asked me surprised.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I like them. I like reading them. They are kinda comforting,” I said and scratched the back of my head. “I sometimes read them before I go to sleep,” I continued.

“That is really sweet Sy,” she said and stood up. Seeing she was unsteady on her feet because of her ankle, I grabbed her elbow. Our eyes locked, and my heart skipped a beat. I thought I saw hope in her eyes.

We stood in front of each other, unsure of what to say next. Sy, it’s now or never. Just fuckin’ ask her. She was looking at the ground, so I lifted her chin up with my finger, making her look at me.

“You know what? Fuck it. Kat, darlin’, would ya like to go on a date with me?”

•••

> chapter five

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I’m Not Afraid - Chapter 4

Word Count: 3,616

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 4/?

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 4

After the eventful day yesterday, I could say that today was extremely boring. For some unknown reason, Stiles and Jackson had not shown up to school. But, after what happened I would have missed too, but I left my bike here and I needed to get it back. I wasn’t planning on staying longer than needed. Once the day was over and the clock hit three, I sped off to my house. I was still tired from yesterday and all I wanted to do was take a big long nap. My body felt heavy, and my head hurt like hell. 

But once I got home, I knew that I wouldn't be sleeping like I wanted to.

"What are you doing here, Derek?" I asked as I took off my helmet.

"We need to talk."

"No, we don't. There's nothing to talk about."

"(Y/N), please. You have been avoiding me for almost two weeks now. I need to know why." He sounded desperate. 

"And I want to know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop. Guess we won't be getting any answers today." I tried to walk to the door, but he grabbed my arm. "Let. Me. Go."

"Please, just talk to me. Give me a reason." His stare burned a hole in me. "Please."

"Seriously, Derek. Just leave me alone." He finally let me go, my arm feeling cold missing his touch.

"I won't stop until you talk to me and explain."

"Then get comfortable, sour wolf, you'll be waiting a long time." I entered the house and locked the door, finally letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

I changed into comfortable clothing and started cleaning the house. My parents would be here tomorrow, and I wanted to make sure the house was spotless. Truly, I just needed something to take my mind off Derek. Why did he make me feel this way? Yesterday the only thing I was wondering was why HE was there. And I didn't want to think that way. I didn't want to care about him. Not now, not ever.

After I finished cleaning, I found myself with nothing to do, so I ran upstairs and took a shower. I tried to take all the time in the world but there wasn't enough. I got out and went to bed thinking of the events of yesterday.

I was running through the forest and I felt someone chasing me. No matter how fast I ran, the creature ran faster. Before I knew it my body had collided with the floor and towering above me was the thing that had screeched last night. It looked lost, like it needed to find his purpose. His slit eyes stared down onto mine and his sharp teeth expelled a sort of saliva that trickled down to my face. His tail was moving up and down my legs teasing a cut. I wanted to move but I knew if I did it would try to kill me, so I stayed put. I closed my eyes and awaited what would happen but instead of death, a roar sounded. Startled, the creature screeched, and I screamed back.

I woke up screaming and sweating just 5 minutes before my alarm would make a sound. I got out of my bed and went to take a shower to relieve me from the dream I just had. It sounded just like the screech from two nights ago. My body felt cold, and I had goosebumps everywhere. To calm my nerves, I put the water in a hot temperature and let it ease my muscles and relax my body. I would have maybe called Isaac but, after knowing he's somewhat involved with whatever is going on and him being a douchebag the last few days, I didn't even bother looking up his contact. Maybe it was for the best. After the year ended I could cut ties without any remorse.

Once I was done with my shower I changed into comfortable clothes once again and ran down the stairs. For more than an hour I was enjoying a horror movie on TV when I heard the doorknob rattle.

"Mom! Dad!" I ran and jumped on both.

"Hey, munchkin." My dad ruffled my hair and hugged me.

"Hey, darling. How did your week go?" My mom asked. How could I explain to her something I didn't know?

"Pretty uneventful. Just hanging out around the house, organizing my room and stuff. But, enough about me. Come in, settle down, tell me about your week."

"Honey, why don't you go sit down, we need to talk about something." I looked at my mom weirdly and went to the kitchen to sit down.

"What's going on?" I looked at my parents who were fixing up dinner.

"Munchkin, you know how each year we have to move due to my business. Well, this year is gonna be different."

"We're not moving. Dad, you've said that before. How do I know you're not lying again?"

"We took this week kind of on a trial basis. You’re getting older and can handle bigger responsibilities like taking care of yourself and the house by yourself. So, it seems that we can be away for elongated periods of time and you’ll be just fine. And in any case, your uncle is here to take care of you."

"We will be living here in Beacon Hills and any business that needs to be taken care of we will just leave town for a few days. Are you okay with that?" My mother smiled. 

"Okay?! I'm beyond okay!" I jumped up from the stool and hugged my parents. "This is the best news ever!"

"That's great, honey. Now go do something while I start dinner."

When my parents told me the news that we were staying the first person that came to mind was Derek.

I had been avoiding him for such a long time and he did deserve some answers and maybe I could get some from him about what was going on in this freak show of a town. I decided to text him and told him to meet me at his house in the woods. I awaited his answer and rode my bike down the now familiar trail. And just as he had said, there he was, waiting on the front steps of the house.

"Hey, Derek," I said softly. It was hard to swallow my pride after the way I had been acting. 

"Hey, (Y/N). Are you finally ready to talk?" He said in a calm and soothing voice. Absolutely the opposite of what I was expecting. I nodded my head and sat down next to him. "So, why have you been avoiding me? Is it something I did?"

"No. I just had to."

"You had to?"

"Look, all my life I have had to pack everything up and leave behind a whole life. Every time the year ends, I need to forget about one life and start another. I have ignored so many people that have only been nice to me because I don't want to grow attached. Cause when I leave, I know I will never see them again and I'd rather be alone than have to pass through that heartache."

"So, once we started growing close you had to cut ties so you could forget about me." I nodded and he let out a sigh. "I get it. But you could've told me."

"Yeah? How? Hey, I'm gonna start to forget you now so I don't have to later. Wouldn't be too sensitive, would it?"

"No, but I would have understood." He looked at me. His eyes held kindness and understandings, things I didn’t deserve for my actions. "But why are you telling me now?"

"My parents told me that we're not leaving this time. We're here for good."

"So that means you'll stop ignoring me?"

"Yes." He smiled and gave me a hug. I hugged him back. "Now that I have given you answers, I need some in return."

"Like?"

"What the hell happened on Thursday?"

"Oh. That." He paused for a second and groaned, but I motioned him to answer me. "Of course. But what I tell you right now must stay between us, and you must give me your word that no one will know that I was the one who told you. Not Scott or Allison, not even your parents."

"Is it that important?"

"Absolutely. Look what's happening here, it's not normal nor human."

"What are you talking about, Derek?" I chuckled.

"Everything around you are not what it seems. There's just no easy way to say this."

"Derek, ballpark it."

"I'm a werewolf, an alpha. And so is Scott, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, they're betas. Your family, including Allison, are hunters. They kill people like me and the others. That screech you heard yesterday, it came from a Kanima. A walking snake-like creature that kills people, murderers exactly, after paralyzing them with a type of venom it creates." He looked into my eyes trying to search for something. An answer, a sign, anything. It just wasn't there. "(Y/N), please. Say something."

I tried to speak up, but nothing came out. Maybe it was the shock, maybe I wasn't ready to hear this, maybe I didn't want to know that everyone around me was different. Out of this world, sort to speak.  Everything was changing and I couldn't do anything about it. I saw Stiles' jeep coming closer. Out of it came Scott, Allison, and, obviously, Stiles. I got up from the steps, ignoring their calls and Derek calling my name.

"Where are you going, (Y/N)?"

"Home." I turned on the motorcycle and tried to leave but I couldn't. I was frozen, listening to their conversation.

Derek's POV "What's happening?" Stiles asked.

"She's leaving, dimwit. Don't you have eyes?"

"Why would she leave like that?" Allison questioned and directed her sight to me. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. We were just talking."

"What exactly where you guys talking about?" Scott asked.

"Everything."

"As in." I stared at him and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, everything."

"Derek, why the hell would you do that?! It was not in your place to tell her about that." 

"Oh, like you would have told her anything. Just like you're telling Lydia. She came to me for answers, and I gave them to her."

"That is none of your business."

"I was not going to continue to lie to her. You do whatever the hell you want but I couldn't go on like that."

"Honestly, Derek. What is your problem?! She's nothing to you so I don't understand why you had to bring her into this twisted world." Allison screamed.

"You know why she has to know. I accept that it's not my place, but I knew you wouldn't say anything and, also, I didn't bring her into this. Your bloodline did. Don't pin this on me." Allison starts fuming and closing the gap between us but stops dead in her tracks when she heard the same thing all of us heard. (Y/N) falling off her bike.

"(Y/N)!!" I ran towards her and picked her up.

"Don't touch her!" Allison screamed.

"You can't tell me what to do." I bumped our shoulders and headed towards the house. "But if you wanna help out you can follow me."

Fuming, Allison followed me into the living room with the trail of puppies on her back. She helped me gently lay down (Y/N) on the couch whilst Scott found some gauze and alcohol for a scratch on her face and hopefully what would wake her.

After cleaning the wound, I held a gauze dripping with alcohol under her nose, but nothing happened.

"This is what I wanted to avoid. She seems so strong, but she is so fragile too. I wanted her to find this all out through her parents. Not some stranger she just met." Allison spoke to Scott.

"I think you underestimate the strength she has. And trust me, I am no stranger to her." I spat at her. "At least I was the only one brave enough to give her the answers she was seeking."

"Derek, honestly I could give two shits about what you think right now. It's your fault she fainted. Again, you had no fucking right."

"Look, Allison, I get it. You don't want her in this world because she's better than you. I get it." I smirked at her and she lunged at me. Scott held her back but I wanted the reaction. I was completely fuming, (Y/N) deserved better than lies. 

As she struggled, Stiles’s words brought us back from the fight. 

"Guys, she's waking up."

I directed my gaze again to (Y/N) and noticed her eyes fluttering open. "See, she's fine."

"But she wasn't."

"Well, she is now." I gritted my teeth.

(Y/N)'s POV

"Um, guys, yeah. I'm still here stop talking about me as if I were gone."

"Are you okay? How are you feeling?" Allison asked as if I had hurt myself.

"I'm fine. My body is functioning normally, my legs are moving one after the other, my lips are opening and closing, and my tongue is moving, and my arms are flailing. I'm super."

"Take it easy, (Y/N). You just found out a lot of stuff." Scott said.

"Yeah, you two are werewolves." I pointed at him and at Derek, then at Allison. "And you, along with our family, a hunter." I looked at Stiles. "And you're human, like me."

"And?" Derek asked in a harsh tone as if trying to keep up the mean façade he had. It made me angry, but the worry was evident in his eyes.

"It's fine. It's weird but fine." This time I did get on my motorcycle and started it.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Stiles tried to stop me midway.

"Um, as I said before, home."

"You can't drive in this state, especially in a motorcycle. You could crash!"

"Allison, I have never in my life of driving crashed a motorcycle whereas cars, enough to start a small dealership, and some of them weren't even mine. I think I'm good." As I tried to leave, once again I was stopped. This time by Derek.

"I'll take you home."

"Um, you've done enough. I'll take her home." Allison stepped in. They got in each other's faces and I had to step in between them.

"Mom, dad. Stop. I hate when you fight." I snorted. "Sorry, but I'll take myself home."

Before any of them could answer I got on my motorcycle and sped off the same way I came through. When I got home, I was out of breath and dizzy. Everything Derek had said kept replaying in my mind over and over, like an endless loop of unimaginable words that seemed to be part of a dream. The front door of my house seemed so far, and it felt like almost half an hour had passed until I got there. Everything passed by slowly and blurry.

My father called out to me and it felt like I answered but I had no idea what I said. Maybe something in the lines of I'm tired, I'm gonna go to bed. I ascended the stairs one step at a time until I reached the top. It felt like climbing the Great Wall of China, but finally, I made it to my bedroom. Once I entered, I got the scare of my life and everything went back to normal. Derek was in my room.

"What the hell are you doing here, Derek?!" I yelled in a soft whisper.

"I wanted to see if you were really okay. You didn't seem good when you left."

"I'm fine," I said in a cold voice and started looking for my pajamas. He wasn't believing me, and neither was I. "Seriously, Derek. I am."

"You don't seem or sound fine. I heard you when you got here, you were out of breath and you took your time to get up the stairs as if it was the biggest climb of your life." It was evident that he was worried about me but there was nothing to worry about. I may still be in a bit of shock. He just needed to chill. Deep down I knew how scared I was. The world had turned into different stop frames. I could see everything pass me by inch by inch. I had time for everything. I could easily have gone to the other side of the planet and back and not more than a minute could have passed.

I went to the bathroom and changed in hopes that he would leave, even though  I didn’t want him to. He didn't. He looked around my book collection which, I may add, is quite big. My father had some people make a built-in bookcase and desk. It was probably my favorite place in the whole house, the kitchen ended second. Derek had taken one of my favorite books in his hand.

"Pride and Prejudice? Hm, never would have pictured you to read this kind of book."

"There's many things you don't know about me, sour wolf."

"Seriously, you're gonna keep calling me that? Even after you know it's true."

"That makes it more fun." I smiled weakly. "So, werewolf, huh?" He nodded. "And my family is filled with hunters." He nodded again. "And they hunt you."

"(Y/N), if this is too much for you, we can leave you out of it."

"It doesn't matter if you leave me out of it, I'll still be involved. I just don't want anything to change."

"I know. Me either." He said looking down. I walked over to him and hugged him needing some type of warmth. His arms engulfed me, and I felt relieved, completely forgetting how mad I was at him for being a dick not a few hours ago.

"It's just for the first time in my life I thought I cloud have a normal life with my family and new friends. I hoped to settle in a normal town where it's so boring, but you fall in love with the people there and never want to leave. I guess I just wanted normal."

"And I just ruined that." He sighed, his chest rising and falling against my head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't blame yourself. My parents would have brought me into that world soon enough. I think that's why they've had me working out and training for no apparent reason. They were hoping I would join the family business."

"Would you?"

"Huh?" I looked up at him.

"If they asked you to become a hunter, would you?"

"If I hadn't met Isaac, or your pack, or Scott... or you, I probably would have. But I can't be a part of something that hunts innocent creatures just because they believe the whole species is bad." He nodded but stayed quiet.

I went over to my bed in hopes he would stay but he made his way to the window. I don't know what came over me, but I called out to him. "Don't go. Stay, please."

Without another word he turned off the lights and sat next on the chair that was in the corner next to my bed. Finally, I drifted off with the possibility of words flowing from his mouth. 

Derek's POV

"I'll never leave you." I whispered to her as she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep. After some time, she started squirming and her heartbeat began to race. I sat next to her, and without waking up, she got closer and snuggled into my chest. I put an arm around her and heard her heartbeat slowly go back to normal. 

At around midnight I heard voices arguing downstairs. I didn't mean to overhear but I couldn't help it.

"You went looking for her again, didn't you, Henry?"

"Of course, I did. I'll look for her until the day I die."

"You know you'll never find her. That was the point. You told her to hide, and she did. So much that not even you can find her. I guess she didn't love you enough." She sighed. "And even if you found her, your father would use all his power to kill her."

"At least I loved her more than I'll ever love you, and that's enough for me."

 After that, a long silence. 

Then, a door slammed shut. 

Moments after I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.I tried my best to move in case they decided to check in with her, but (Y/N)’s grip on me only tightened. I had no escape other than to brace myself for whatever could happen. 

My heart started to race faster and faster as the steps became closer to the room. 

Step.

Step.

Step.

Her mother was right outside her door, probably debating waking her daughter up to wish her a good night. My breath hitched in my throat when the door handle started to softly turn; the gears in my brain turning, looking for the quickest escape. The door handle had turned completely and I prepared myself to run. But, it was let go. The footsteps receded and ended in the room next to (Y/N)’s. Once I heard her settle in bed I finally relaxed. I curled (Y/N) onto me and wrapped her tight. Something in me just wanted to protect her and let her know she’s not alone. I hadn’t felt this way in a long time and for the first time I wanted to see where it could lead.

<-Previous

Tag list: @hellowinterlane​ @lokisgoddesofpower​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

The Hard Things

Doing the right thing is never easy. Calum and Freya have a lot going for them. But what happens when fear gets in the way.

Inspired by I Follow Rivers by Marika Hackman and Starting Line by Luke Hemmings.

Calum X Black Female OC.

I cried once writing this. 7.4k words. Angst. Just angst and sarcasm.

@notinthesameguey is personally responsible for this. So blame her.

The Hard Things--Alternative Ending

Masterlist (on semi hiatus)

___________________________________

If Freya were going to be honest, she would admit that the second she saw Calum and his friends walk into the building she knew things were going to be bad. But Freya’s not being honest. Because being honest would almost include admitting just how too easy it was that day. How if those particular sequences of events hadn’t happened that specifically, then she wouldn’t be here--trying not to watch the quiver in his chin or the way he blinks rapidly. Then she wouldn’t be trying to forget the way his voice quakes.

But they did happen in that particular order. On a Thursday afternoon, he and his friends walked through the door. And here, here at this part, it’s easy to be honest.

Honestly, she is staring--way too hard and way too long at the rag-tag gaggle of people, but especially the man pulling up the rear of the group with a bright red hat snug on his head and covering his eyes, though not even the brim can hide the plump full lips pulled up into a tiny grin at something that must’ve been said. Because another guy, this one fairer-skinned in a hat too and a baggy t-shirt is also laughing. And of course, this group would enter just as Tre stepped away to check on the lanes already throwing. Vanessa wasn’t too far from the desk, but she was trying to help some parents figure out when they could schedule an event for someone’s birthday in the coming weeks.

This only leaves Freya as the only person available right now until rounds were completed to handle any new patrons. With a glance down to the clock on the computer, she could see that a couple more folks would be coming back to the front at any point. But clearly, that point wouldn’t come quick enough.

“Hi,” Freya greets flicking her gaze back up to the group with a quick smile. It’s the training. The fact that more than once she’d been told that customers liked her, especially the way she gave instructions but she needed to smile more. And if this weren’t the job keeping her afloat during her time of getting her degree, in addition to the administrative desk work she did at the university, she would leave here in a heartbeat. Possibly even in the blink of an eye. Whichever was faster.

“Hey! We were hoping you had a couple of lanes for us.”

Freya counts the head. “Just you seven?”

The guy that spoke initially turns the man in the back with the bright red hat on. “Still no word from her?”

The guy shrugs. “Don’t sweat it.” And Freya clings to every syllable. The almost sleepy drawl to his voice lined with a twinge of an accent. She can’t place it at first. But all of them share slight variations in it. The man in the red hat’s voice is low but smooth.

“Yeah just the seven of us,” a taller man pipes in.

“Okay, we can only have two people throwing on a lane at a time. I can put you on neighboring ones but we’ve got very strict rules about how many people can throw at a time.”

There’s a murmur amongst the group but eventually, it comes back to Freya that they’re okay with it. She runs down the safety rules, the forms they have to form out, and checks their IDs. She notices the man with the red hat’s name is Calum and though she knows she shouldn’t, she tries to commit it to memory. It won’t last long. She forgets names all too fast, but she never forgets a face.

“Nessa, watch the desk for me!” Freya calls out as she collects the cases with the axes and directs the party to their lanes. There’s a table for convening and a separate for the axes to rest. “Alright,” she starts with a quick whistle to settle the group. They get chatty but are quick to turn their attention back to her. “I don’t want to kick anyone out, but I will. So one last recap of the rules.”

When Freya finishes, she has the entire group repeat the rules back to her. When they return it to her all correctly, she smiles. “I appreciate y’all already. There are several range officers. They monitor carefully from several posts,” and she points them out as she speaks. “The shift rotates out in an hour. Meaning you’ll have to pause let the old shift go and let the new shift jump in. You’ll hear beeps to signal you to stop and start. If you have any other questions or concerns, you can find me at the front or a range officer. And we’ll be happy to help. Let’s keep all fingers, toes, extremities, and eyeballs intact and we can have a great day together. Enjoy.”

Usually, in her safety spills and best way to throw, Freya makes sure to keep eye contact with everyone in the group. However, she places a purposeful gaze on Calum when she tells them to enjoy. It’s reckless--she knows that. A little flirting hasn’t hurt her. Besides, she knows the moment she walks away, he’ll forget about her. They always did and she likes it like that. Flirty enough to keep good reviews, but never too flirty to insinuate anything more.

In her departure, Freya feels eyes on her, lasting longer than usual. And maybe she put more emphasis behind the swish of her hips and maybe she hoped it was Calum watching her walk away. But she doesn’t dare turn around. No matter how much she hopes in a fleeting second that maybe she had flirted just a little too much, Freya does not turn around to confirm or deny anything.

Back at the front desk, Freya takes a look at the cameras. Anyone at the front can see the lanes too--it’s for safety when you have live blades. Her gaze travels over each one though just out of the corner of her eye she catches the bright red hat. A few guys clasp him on the back but she can’t hear whatever else is said. The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly. As people leave, few come in to replace them. The weekend will be busier--it always in. And Freya knows that soon too, once the afternoon becomes evening things will pick up just a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Everything okay?”

Freya barely sees who it is talking before they’re out of the door. Calum, phone pressed to his ear. She watches him for a beat as he paces near the front windows of the establishment. Her gaze doesn’t linger long before something on the floor catches her eye. She sees it’s black and square. When she gets closer it looks like a wallet. Clearly used and loved by the creases in it. She glances back up to Calum to see him still on the phone and peeks at the ID just to make sure who it belongs to.

With the blank stare of Calum’s ID photo looking up at her, Freya takes it back behind the desk. She’ll wait until he gets off the phone. A minute or two later, the door chimes again with Calum reentering.

“Hey, you dropped this,” she calls out, stepping out from the desk to hold out the wallet.

Calum pats his pockets and a split second panic causes his eyes to go wide. “Oh shit, thanks. I-I didn’t even realize it fell out of my pocket.”

“No worries. Just glad to get it back to you.” Calum takes it and slips it into his pocket, hands patting the outside to make doubly sure it’s secure. “You guys doing okay back there?

“Yeah, we’re good. Though I think somehow the girls are kicking our asses.”

Freya smiles with a small tuft of laughter escaping her. “It’s power and finesse. You can tear down brick buildings but if you don’t get the release right so it’s not twirling over the axis too many times, you’ll come up with nothing.”

“So says the expert?”

Her cheeks heat for a second at the raised eyebrow Calum gives her. Running her tongue over her teeth to hide the smile, Freya nods. “Yeah, I’ve thrown an axe or two in my lifetime. So I guess that counts as me being an expert.”

Calum laughs. Whether it’s at her or not, Freya’s not sure. But she likes the sound of it. “Tell me what else the expert suggests.”

A moment passes where Freya’s watching his gaze. Wondering if an anime glint will twinkle over his brown eyes because it’s a smooth delivery. Smoother than some of the stuff she’s done. There’s no way he’s fucking real.

Freya takes a half step back, slipping through the threshold that separates the front desk from the main lobby and the hallway to the back where the lanes are set up. “This expert suggests that you try her advice and impress all your friends.”

“More finesse. In the wrist, right?”

“In the wrist.”

A shy smile is shared between the two of them. It borders telling everything and saying nothing at all, borders on giving away on how much Calum might’ve considered concocting a ruse just to get her attention and how much he did backtrack on his plan because it was his sister calling and that shocked him. The smile borders on Freya twirling the Havana twists around her finger and her rolling her eyes at Calum’s thinly veiled attempts at flirting.

Both of them are saved by the front door chiming and Freya gives a nod to Calum before turning her attention to the person now entering. But Calum watches the way she leans into the counter and smiles down at the small child standing next to their parent. “Oh my god, you’re getting so big,” Freya comments and then walks back around to settle next to them.

“No, Fre, I’m not bigger dan yesterday,” the kid responds.

“Huh, could’ve fooled me. Your dad will be out in just a second. Shift change had to wait for one more person. Anything cool happen at school today?”

Calum leaves then, though he can catch the small boy gush about the races he won at recess. It’s probably crazy of him to try and find some sort of way to come back here again soon, but Calum’s already trying to put together an excuse.

When Calum heads back to the front with the group, laughing at Michael’s utter disgust at the way the last few throws went, he does look for Freya. A girl with red hair is sitting at the desk instead. And though a little bit of disappoints settles into his stomach because he wanted to tell her how well her advice worked, he finds himself resolved and it wouldn’t be broken.

******

Calum told himself whatever Freya had to say during this talk wouldn’t break him. Hell, if he were honest, he didn’t think it would go like this. “You know, I used to say I was no good for people all the time,” Calum laughs. He sniffs hard and wipes his noses on the back of his nose. “It was a clean get-away line.”

“I’m not giving you a get-away line. I’m giving you the truth,” Freya returns.

“No, I’m-I’m not saying you’re giving me bullshit. You’re setting a boundary and a good one at that. I respect it. I’m just saying the irony. The same thing I used to tell others is coming back my way.”

“Karma’s a bitch.”

“I don’t regret it.” Calum shakes his head, not because he’s lying. But to emphasize his point.

*****

Calum doesn’t regret going to the Yelp, Facebook, or Instagram page of the business to see if she had liked it or appeared anywhere on their social media. And luck would have it, he manages to find her. The owners like to show off their employees. Their preferred form of employee appreciation appears, in Calum’s investigation, to be a quick bio of new employees along with a video of them throwing. He nearly misses Freya’s post because of his quick scrolls. The bottom of the page comes up quicker than the app could handle and just as the new page loads that he notices it. The thick twists and black lipstick sitting on her cool dark brown skin.

He doesn’t regret it when he followed the account that was tagged, or the message he sent her from his finsta, or the messages they exchanged for a few days. And he for damn sure can’t find himself to regret it when he came back to the place a couple of weeks later to see if Freya was working.

There’s no regret when she smiles at him and laughs. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to test your theory yet again. It worked last time. But I want to make sure that it wasn’t beginner’s luck.”

“You doubt me. You dare doubt me? I’m offended.”

Calum laughs briefly as he leans into the counter of the front desk. “It’s more like I’m testing a theory. Making sure the results can be recreated.”

“Oh, I promise you my results are valid.” She reaches out for his ID and every so gently their fingers brush. Calum can’t tell if that’s intentional or not, but it doesn’t the slight shiver that runs down his spine. “So just you today, huh?” Freya continues on, grabbing a clipboard, some forms, and a pen.

“Just me.”

“Rest of your friends scared.” Her gaze falls to the stack she’s gathering, checking something off on the top page and then sliding the ID back to Calum.

“They’d probably laugh at me if they knew I was here.”

“Laugh at you?”

“Tell me--why do you think I’m here?”

A moment passes between them. Though it takes up more like several seconds, time feels froze as Freya studies his face. Calum wants to reach up and readjust his hat out of a nervous habit. He wants to take it back. But more than anything, he wants to know if he has a shot. If it’s worth really pursuing.

“I think you’re here to test a theory. Maybe, just maybe you’re here because of Vanessa too,” she smiles as it says. Like she knows that isn’t the truth but she doesn’t want to give into Calum.

And while it’s not the answer he was hoping for, Calum takes it. She wants to play a game and he can be down for that.

*****

She wants to reach out for his hands. They sit next to each other in the lounge chairs Calum keeps lined around his pool. But Freya thinks twice about it. The bulbs dangle above them casting an amber hue onto the water, a stark contrast to the twilight pressing evening closer to night’s full darkness. Freya does regret it. She regrets not leaving her teasing response just to testing a theory. She knew what Calum was fishing for, what he was hoping to confirm when he came back by himself.

Maybe it was just where she was then. Then she thought she could give more. Now she realizes she can’t. She likes it when she’s dating someone and they can decide on a random Sunday for errand runs. She likes having them around. And not that Calum wouldn’t be around. Tours didn’t happen all the time. But they did run long. And who the hell knows where she’d be in eight months after she graduated. Her life wasn’t stable--she wasn’t tied to the West Coast like Calum was.

Her life was full of variables. Ones that she didn’t really plan on trying to solve until closer to Christmas in the spring right before graduation. And she didn’t want to give Calum any more false hope. It wasn’t set in stone that she’d be staying in LA and it wasn’t set in stone that she could handle the long departures. Calum deserved someone that was more sure of themselves.

“I think having regrets is no good anyway,” Freya says, finally breaking the long silence between them. “Having them doesn’t change what happened anyway.” But that doesn’t change the fact that you still regret this, Freya thinks to herself.

“I used to believe love could overcome any obstacle.”

Freya turns to look to Calum and catches thhe way the stubble on his chin from the few weeks he’s gone without shaving halos just a little in the lights. “Used to? The right person, the right love--”

Calum shakes his head. “Now I think people loving me means that they love themselves and they can tell me what they want or need. No guessing. No games.”

“Still sounds a lot of a hell lot like overcoming obstacles.”

“But it’s not a dream. It’s tangible. It’s not me daydreaming up in the clouds. It’s me--right here. Right now. Knowing seeing what it means more than anything else that all the shit I was thinking of as a kid really needed just to be put on the ground level for me.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“I mean as much as it fucking sucks that you’re telling me no, I know you’re doing it for the right reasons. I-there’s like this thing with me. I watch people. I don’t walk into a room of strangers and become the center of attention. I don’t like people all that much, but I care. You know? I care about the people I put into my life and I want them to do well and succeed. I want what’s best for them. It’s not always easy to want that, but innately, I do, I think. Deep down I want what’s good for people. And maybe love is doing the hard things, you know.”

He pauses. Freya watches the way he drops his head, fingers threading through the curls. She keeps quiet. There’s something more, something deeper to the words. “And you’re doing the hard thing. Whether it’s for me or not is debatable,” Calum continues. “But I think love is doing the hard things.”

“You said that having some space was important to you. And while I understand that, like you do need to be your own person in a relationship--”

“Your reasons or how you want to justify it to yourself for me isn’t something I need. You already said that you know what you expect and like out a relationship and that the touring would be too hard for you. Set boundaries for you. What good does it do to justify it to me?”

“So you know I’m not being an asshole, Calum. For fuck sake.”

“No, no, I-shit. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant--who are boundaries really for? What do they do?”

“I guess they do protect the person making them. But I’m not trying to be an asshole to you. I swear.”

Calum looks up from the cement of his background lining the pool to the glossy sheen coating Freya’s eyes. They’re black in the settling night. But Calum knows they’re more like a medium brown--dark enough to get lost in them, but when they catch the light just right, they can feel like an enchanting spell sucking him in.

“Freya, you are a sarcastic son of a bitch. But an asshole to those that don’t deserve it, never.”

She sucks on her teeth, swatting at his bicep. “Take that back.”

Calum leans onto his left elbow, closing the gap between them just a little. A smile lifts his lips gently. “Never.”

“We’ve both been burned. Is it bad I didn’t want that again?”

“No. I used to say love is a scam. So I don’t think I’m necessarily the poster boy for relationships.”

“But admit it, you hoped this was the one so you wouldn’t be the odd man out.” His brows furrow at her comment. Freya gives him a soft smile. “Two of the guys are engaged. But all three of them are in a relationship.”

He sighs, gazing dropping from her face. “Maybe I was hoping so. Is it bad of me to want to be in love?”

“No. I told some kids that my boyfriend was Shermar Moore,” Freya admits with a laugh. “I was working at a summer camp and one girl saw his picture on my phone. It was my lockscreen for the longest time. So I just went with it. Well, I was spurred in part because of Drew who was a fucking creep and wouldn’t leave me alone. But I did fantasize about it. Dream of being in love with some famous and the limelight. Shit at that point, I hadn’t even dated anyone either. So another part of it was a desire too.”

“Is that part of it too? Worried about what trolls and whatever will say?”

“Oh, no one who doesn’t know shit about it can make me get outside myself.” Freya laughs but reclines into the cushions of the chair. “But maybe it’s a little bit of it. That’s too many voices talking all about you. It’s a lot of noise and some of it has to bleed through you know. Even if you’re careful and you work not to take it in, some does, right?”

“I don’t think humans were created to be able to handle that much criticism or even love and adoration. Our brains can’t handle it. So yeah, a little bit seeps in. But you keep that door closed as much as you can. You talk to people that also get it. Fuck, you even get a therapist.”

“Or a dog,” Freya says before turning her head to watch Duke laying inside next to the back door.

“And a dog,” Calum corrects.

“Excuse me, you get a therapist and a dog.”

“Tell me something.”

“I’m listening,” Freya returns, looking back to Calum.

“Before you go tonight, tell me the thing you’re going to cherish between us.”

“Will you do the same?” Calum nods at the question but doesn’t respond verbally as he gazes at her.

“Do you want to answer now?”

“Are you leaving now?”

“I-I didn’t think you wanted me to stay.”

“I want you to stay as long as you feel comfortable. And then when you leave, the parting thing we have is the good, the best of us.”

“What if I stay until dawn?”

“Then you stay until dawn. Though, I think it’s safe to say both of us will pass out by 3 AM.”

“That was the most ridiculous thing I think I’ve ever done,” Freya laughs. Remembering the same she spent a Friday night after a shift at Calum’s place. He had a birthday party on Saturday along with a vet appointment with Duke. And then Sunday, Freya had we weekly lunch with her friends that she couldn’t miss. So Calum asked her if she wanted dinner Friday night at his place. Which she said yes to, but then it turned into them doing a movie marathon. Which then turned into Calum betting her that he could stay up longer than her. But they ultimately passed out around 3 in the morning on Calum’s couch.

“Thankfully, I did not miss Duke’s vet appointment that time,” Calum tacks on.

“Yeah, no thanks to me waking you up half an hour before it.”

“That darlin’ is what I call details.”

“No, I call that a very important fact,” Freya defends sitting up. “Duke would’ve been late twice if not for me.”

Calum giggles at her incredulous look. She always got heated fast, though she knew when it was serious things and when it wasn’t. “It wasn’t him paying for the visit.”

“So you ought to kiss the ground I’m standing on right now because you didn’t have to pay anything like a cancellation fee.”

“You’re not standing on any ground right-” the sentence doesn’t get the wind to complete itself when Calum watches her stand up. “Or maybe you are standing up.”

Freya hears him, but she gazes up to the sky. Trying to look past the twinkle of his backyard lights. There’s not much to see due to the light pollution. But the sounds capture her attention next. His neighborhood’s almost been mostly quiet. But with the twinge of the summer’s heat fading, Freya can hear the last bit of people outside. A dog barks into the night and there’s the crunch only tires on gravel and asphalt can give. There’s a hum in the night that Freya can feel in her bones.

It’s hard not to fall in love with the sounds of the night. It’s hard not to romanticize this, how possibly if things were different she could find herself at some point always standing in the middle of this backyard listening to the sounds of the night, having Calum beside her or maybe Duke when he’s gone and just letting herself go to the buzz. In all honesty, Freya craved stability. Always having something to come back was her dream. But in that dream it was a partner who would be there for every dinner. A shared space that was full with both of their presences.

“When you think about coming home what’s there?” Freya asks. “Like, in ten years, what’s in your home when you walk inside?”

Calum closes his eyes, bringing the picture to his mind’s eye. “Like, the truth of what I see?”

“The truth,” Freya confirms.

“Two kids, a dog for sure. Maybe two. A wife. A lot of laughs. Being knocked over with hugs. Maybe a movie that hasn’t quite been paused catches my ears. Maybe it’s summer and my mum’s over too. Because she wants to be around the kids as much as possible. And my sister--she comes over when she can too. So we have to figure out what to cook because it’s a family dinner night. I’m mostly likely in Australia. But I could be somewhere else. Just not LA. I don’t think I could have kids here.”

“That sounds lovely, Calum.”

“But I am scared. My parents divorced. What if it doesn’t work out?”

“That wasn’t your fault. And if we heal from our trauma before having kids then maybe some of our fears won’t come to reality.”

“And if it does.”

“Then we know the boogeyman is real and sometimes we can do our best but things that are meant to happen will still happen.”

“Your parents are divorced too, right?” Calum remembers her mentioning a distinction between her mother’s house and her father’s house. But she hadn’t outright stated that her parents were divorced, just alluded to it.

“Yeah. My dad remarried. He seems happy.”

“What about you? If you closed your eyes and thought about yourself in 10 years, where are you?”

“I technically asked what do you see in your home when you walk inside 10 years from now.”

“Oh, come off it,” Calum laughs, throwing a dismissive wave her way.

“But,” she giggles and then closes her eyes. The breeze blows across her face and she lifts her chin up to catch as much of it as she can. Then she speaks, “I don’t know. Home’s full of the people I love. And I feel stable. I’m not worried about what I’m going to do weeks from now when something inevitably has to change. Because nothing’s going to change. Or at least, I’m not anticipating change. I think that’s what I’m sick of. I’m sick of dealing with change and constantly moving around and not knowing what the next year is going to look like. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder and planning. I just want to be still.”

“You did the whole back and forth between houses, huh?”

“Yeah. I always felt like I was playing two versions of myself when I was younger. I had to be one way around my mother and one way around my father and according to my therapist, the constant games of charade fucked me up a little.”

“How often did you go between their houses?”

“Every weekend.”

Calum sucks in air through his teeth, “Yikes. Yeah, no wonder you want stability.”

“Oh, thank you Dr. Hood. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Well this is a question so it’s not something you don’t know, but is the thought of me being gone for months at a time remind you of that? Like, you’d have to be one way while I was here and then another way when I was gone?”

Freya shrugs. But it’s right on the nose. “I’d have to learn to be with you and then be without you. And all I have are switches. No dimmers. I’m either on or I’m off. And I-I’m working on it. But I’ve got a long way to go.”

Calum scoffs, whispering mostly to himself. “All I have are switches. No dimmers.” It’s not a taunt to her. It’s not him blowing her concern off. It’s recognition that colors his tone. It’s the sigh when hearing something that connects so deeply it takes all the oxygen from lungs with it.

“And I swear to Christ, Calum, if you make a Lowe’s or Home Depot joke, I will extract your ankles from you right here right now.”

“Extract? What the hell?” Calum laughs.

“Broken ankles heal,” Freya returns with a smirk. Her face is lit mostly from above due to continued standing position but Calum catches the way her lips move.

“Remind me to really never piss you off. Between your ability to throw axes and the time you told me about putting ham on a girl’s car, I don’t think I want that kind of trouble in my life.”

“I only put the ham on the car because my friend was heartbroken and she was a cunt for cheating.”

“Yeah, see that’s what I mean,” Calum points out, his index finger swirling in a circle in front of her.

“I could’ve slashed her tires too.”

“I think ruining her paint job was more than enough.”

Freya places her hands on her hips, looking down at Calum. “I’ve got some anger issues too. Did I mention that?”

They laugh but Calum recovers first to speak. “I hadn’t noticed it before. Thank you for telling me that. But in all seriousness, Freya, the boundaries you have make sense. I hope you continue with therapy as well,” he states with a giggle. “But it’s not easy to look back at yourself and realize ‘Oh shit, maybe I don’t want that thing again because that actually fucking hurt’. And do something about it. That takes a lot of strength.”

“Thanks, Calum. And I will continue with this therapist for the rest of the school year because it’s free. Shoutout to some universities for having really accessible mental health resources.”

Freya finally sits, facing Calum. He keeps his gaze averted. But it doesn’t bother her. “What’s the intention behind telling me I can stay as long as I want? Is it to get me to change my mind? Just earlier both of us were near tears and now we’re walking down memory lane. Sharing things we hadn’t shared yet.”

“I want as much of you as I can get before you’re gone. Selfish, right?” The tears are back, she can hear them in his voice.

“No. A bit of your masochism showing, certainly.”

“You ever know something’s bad for you, but you want it anyway? You want the pain anyway?”

“I mean considering both of us are littered tattoos, pain’s not something we’re too worried about.”

Calum wishes he didn’t laugh, not even the short burst of laughter. “Someone’s coping with humor.”

“Someone’s self flagellating.”

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want you to go. But I don’t want you to hurt yourself either.”

“Maybe love is doing the hard things. You said that yourself.”

Calum swallows hard and his voice only comes out in a whisper. “I know I did.”

Freya blinks away the blur of tears. But as soon as they clear, more replace them. Her voice is tight as she speaks. “Doing the hard things suck though. Don’t think this is easy.”

“It’s because it’s the hard thing,” Calum returns. He wants to smile and manages to get a small one but he knows. Freya’s going to leave. She won’t stay.

“My favorite thing,” she starts and Calum exhales hard. There it is--the confirmation. The sentence gets caught in her throat so she pauses to clear it, work the tears down to at least speak. God, why couldn’t it have been easy. “My favorite thing between us, about us, whatever you want to label it as, is that we could also be honest. And even if it was burning waffles or ducking paps to watch a movie for an anime that you had no idea anything about because I wanted to go desperately and you had to Google a summary during the previews, we were always honest with each other.”

“I want to put it out there that you only told me that it was for an anime as I was buying the tickets. So I had zero time to prepare beforehand.”

“I told you the name of it the Monday before we saw it.”

“And admittedly, I forget it the second after you said it.”

“Fair enough, Calum. Fair enough.”

Calum spins in the chair and takes her hand. The first time they’ve touched today. Normally, Freya was more than happy to give out hugs but when Calum opened the front door, she have a half smile and stepped inside. If he could go back to earlier, he’d tell himself that was the first sign.

His thumb passes gently over the butterfly on her left hand. “The thing I’m going to cherish is that you made me feel sixteen again. My entire life changed at sixteen and I felt pretty invincible. I was also scared and excited. I was going to be in a band, like a one with lots of records and I don’t know--I only had that dream to believe in because I damn sure did not have a back up. It was before the downs. And I don’t regret the hard times either. But you’re the first person in a long time that gave me those butterflies. Assumed I was just never going to feel them again and I wasn’t a good person before, not as good as I could’ve been. But you gave me something to be good for again. Getting your text made my whole fucking day. And you-god, you cared about so many things. I bought books you recommended and couldn’t wait to talk about them with you. I remembered the kind of person I want to be. So thank you. For making me feel sixteen again in the cheesiest way possible but also in the best way possible too. That things are worth giving a shit for and that we can let people in and it won’t always burn.”

“Just a little sting.”

Calum nods. “Just a little sting.”

Freya brings his hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the right one. Her sniffle is loud amongst the hum of the night. “If it weren’t for the fact that my eyeliner is tattooed to my face it would probably be running. I’m sorry it has to hurt at all. But-but I’m hopeful.”

“Hopeful?”

“Hopeful that we’ll get what we need out of life.”

He nods again, watching the tears track down her cheek. “We will.”

Her hands gently slip back out of his grasp and she uses the back of her wrist to press under her nose. The tremors shake her hands, so she shakes them before standing. Calum cranes his neck up, words about to fall from his lips. But she cups his cheek and smiles at him. “Don’t. There’s nothing else to say.”

It happens just as he blinks. He sighs, eyes closing to steel himself. Because there’s always so much else to say. And then her lips are pressing to his forehead. It last long enough for Calum to take hold of her thighs instinctively want to pull her in closer to him.

Then she’s gone. His hand slides down the rough denim and Freya’s walking to the edge of the backdoor. Duke picks up his head but doesn’t move much else. “Oh yeah, you don’t need to move. You know everyone comes to you, huh?” She gives him a few pats and scratches. “I’ll send you something for your adoption day, okay, love? And you might hate wearing it or you might love eating it. But be on the lookout for the mailman. He’ll have something from me.”

Calum doesn’t say anything as she says her goodbyes to Duke. She kisses the top of his head too and he thinks she might’ve whispered something else but he’s not certain from his spot on the chair. The swish of the tassels on Freya’s jeans signal her and the click of her heeled boots tell Calum she’s walking farther from him. The latch in the fence clicks and the wood around the hinges creak as she presses into the door. There’s a soft thud as the door shuts and then Calum can’t hear anything over the cough he uses to try and cover the tightness in his chest, can’t see anything in the blurry vision of his tears

She’s just gone.

******

When the front door bell sounds, Calum doesn’t think much of it. It could be a package or someone selling something. So he pushes up from the kitchen table and heads to the door. There on his porch is a light blue box with white bones on it. The subscription box that Calum gets already came. But then he notices an index card with a handwritten address on it. He picks it up. Right there in the return address is Freya’s name. He sucks in a breath and then looks to see who it’s addressed to: Duke Hood + Calum.

“Duke,” Calum calls out, stepping back inside to the house. He closes the door with his foot. The click of paws let him know the old man’s heard his call. “A little early birthday present has arrived just for you.”

He walks deeper into the living room and sets the box on the coffee table. Inside holds an olive green harness, treats, and a card. Calum laughs as Duke presses his snout against the bag of treats. “Alright, alright. I get it.”

Duke happily munches on one of the chews from the bag and Calum opens the card. A different letter slips out into his lap. He can see the ink and lettering pressing through to the other side. His heart hammers, but he forces himself to turn back to the card. “Dear Duke,” Calum pauses to see if Duke responds but his investigation continues on the treat. “I mean, fair enough.” Calum continues to read the card written by Freya, “Even though only the universe knows your true birthday, this card, harness, and bag of treats is meant to mark you sticking it out with your pops for yet another year. To spare you the grumps about a very cute hawaiin shirt I, instead, got a badass harness. Now you’ll be the coolest guy on the block. Happy Birthday/Adoption Day. With Love, Fre.”

Duke, done with the treat, looks to Calum and settles next in front of his folded legs. “Oh, so much work eating a treat.”

But Calum reaches down to gently pats at his tummy. The front of the car is cute, Calum finally recognizes. A cartoon white dog is drawn on it with large pink glasses against a yellow background. There’s no telling where she found it at. Calum looks down to the handwritten letter on printer paper. What would Freya possibly have to say?

Calum hadn’t had the guts to press send on any of the texts he drafted in the three months since they last talked. He wasn’t sure if he could. He is sure that if Freya hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, she would’ve said so, and she wouln’t have sent this box for Duke. His fingers tremble as he unfolds the letter.

Calum,

I figured you heard me tell Duke he was going to get a gift. And I knew I couldn’t not deliver on my promise to him. But I do apologize if it crosses any line. Please let me know too--if it crossed any boundaries.

I hope you’re well. Congrats on the latest album too.

With Love,

Freya.

P.S. I saw you a couple times drafting a text to me but never seeing one go through. And if you’re asking why I hadn’t sent a text either, know it was fear too. And me not being sure if keeping it open like that between us would only do more harm than good. So I’m sorry. But I am here, in the sense that to the best of my capacities, I can try to be here.

*****

Her bag’s slipping off her shoulders but she finally gets the key into the lock and gets her front door open. She sighs as she falls into the ugly blue apartment door and all but flings herself into her place. The stack of mail in her hands barely makes it to the edge of the kitchen counter too. It was just one of those days and Freya couldn’t be mad at herself. Everyone had days like this.

Putting her keys up and getting her backpack next to the couch, she settles into the stools at the kitchen counter to sort through the mail. One’s a bill from the dentist she visited a few weeks back. The one thing her student health insurance didn’t cover. But she couldn’t complain.

There are few junk flyers that she immediately tosses. And it’s her name scrawled in a almost all caps that catches her eyes before she even gets finished with the rest of the pile. In the top corner for the return address she catches the name: Calum Hood + Duke

“Mail from Duke, what a surprise.”

But the real surprise is Calum’s name. It’s just a plain white envelope with a stamp and the city mark it was mailed from. Freya pops it open and sees a sheet of legal pad paper folded up.

Freya,

Thank you for Duke’s gift. The chews are a hit. The harness is much appreciated for our walks. Though, I think they’re more like walks for me. And Duke gets a little exercise in before he tuckers out. But I don’t fault him. No lines were crossed. So no need to worry about that.

I think I like the idea of mailing letters more than I do like texting. But I understand. Doing the hard thing sucks. It always has and always will. Do what you need to for yourself.

Thank you. I wouldn’t normally do this. But there’s a couple songs--they’re about you. I wanted to give you a warning before you listen to it. If you listen to it, I guess I should say.

Best of luck with your last year of school. You’ll have that Master’s in no time and then maybe soon you can take over the Library of Congress like all your evil plans have laid out. (I know, I know. Not what your Library Studies degree does. But I still think you should.)

With Love,

Cal

Freya chuckles at the Library of Congress comment. She picks up her phone and finds Calum’s thread. It’s easy to want to tell him that she can’t take over the Library of Congress and that she’s glad the treats went over well and that the harness was really more of an accessory to make sure Duke looks like a badass.

But she knows--she knows the ease got her into a pickle before. It’s why she stopped things before they got more serious. But was fear going to always predict what she was going to do in her life? Maybe the ease of things was a sign to continue. But if what if things got too far? WOuld be able to handle Calum being gone? Would she inevitably get her heart broken? And sure no amount of contemplation can predict things like this, but she did want to play with that risk no matter how fucking easy it was in the moment.

With a frustrated sigh, Freya drops her face into the forearms. Her phone is still in her grip with the movement. “It’s never fucking easy is it!” she shouts into her apartment.

There’s silence that engulfs her but it gives no response.

[heavenlyhaechan]

The Road Not Taken

Pairing: Kevin x Gn!Reader 

Genre: exes to almost lovers, angst, fluff

Word Count: 2k 

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, alludes to explicit content, not a happy ending

Rating: PG 

Note: Based on ‘tis the damn season by Taylor Swift. Look for the lines inspired by the Queen’s Gambit.

The cafe was the same as it’d always been. Big windows looked out onto the wet street, sacks of coffee beans lay along the back wall, their sweet aroma filling the air. You breathed in deeply, letting the smell fill your lungs until your body forced you to exhale. 

You ordered a plain black coffee at the counter, turning to lean against it as you waited. A baby looked at you in the curious way babies do, and you returned their stare. Their hair stuck up in curls that bounced around as they giggled. You smiled, averting your gaze as you heard the bell on the door jingle. 

His hair was longer than you remembered. It threatened to fall into his eyes as he surveyed the room, eyes that froze the second they landed upon you. For a moment you were tempted to try and hide, abandon your unmade coffee and run as far away from here as you could. But he was already making his way past the cashier and the cases of baked goods, only slowing down when he reached you.  

“Kevin Moon,” you said as he came to a stop in front of you. He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“It’s been a while,” he replied. 

“I like your hair.” 

He thanked you as you turned to accept your coffee from the barista. 

“Where are you staying?” he asked as you took a sip of the dark liquid. 

“My parents house.” 

“How long?” 

“Two weeks.” 

He nodded again, fingers playing with the silver chain of his necklace. 

“Aren’t you gonna order?” you asked after a moment of silence. 

“Oh yeah. Wait for me?” 

“Of course,” you said, but in your head all you could think was: did you wait for me? 

“You still drink that bitter stuff huh?” he asked as he walked you back to your parents house. 

“You still drink that glorified milk huh?” you shot back. 

He made an indignant sound as he held his coffee cup close to his chest. “How dare you disrespect my latte like that.” 

For the first time in what felt like forever, a genuine laugh bubbled up in your chest. Soon enough you were both laughing, high on the cold air and the nostalgia of each others company. It felt so natural being with him, laughing with him, like four years hadn’t just gone by without a word from either of you. 

“So what are you up to these days?” you asked when you’d recovered. 

“Well I’m a uh, teacher. For first graders.” 

“Oh?” you said. “You went through with it huh?” 

“Yeah,” he laughed again, quieter this time. You remembered how easily laughter had always come to him, as well as the days when it had come easily to you too.

——

Thursday morning you sat up in your childhood bed to find the world outside coated in a thin layer of snow. By the time you made it downstairs for breakfast it had begun to fall again, the wind sending white flurries of it dancing across your parent’s lawn. 

At eleven o’clock you answered a knock on the door, only to find Kevin standing on your porch with a navy blue beanie pulled over his hair and a sled under his arm. 

“Are you serious?” you asked in place of a greeting, trying and failing to hold back a smile as he nodded enthusiastically. 

“It never snows here, so we are obligated to take advantage of it!” he said as he quirked an eyebrow at you comically. 

You didn’t need any more persuasion than that. 

Half an hour later the two of you stood at the top of a hill in your neighborhood park, surrounded on all sides by people twice your age. Not that Kevin seemed to care. A flipped coin resulted in you sitting on the front of the sled with Kevin behind you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. 

The butterflies that were conjured at the feeling of his chest pressed against your back (albeit separated by quite a few of layers), were blown away as he sent the two of you hurtling down the snowy slope. You didn’t know whether to laugh or scream, so you did a bit of both. It was over in a flash however, as the two of you came to a smooth stop at the bottom of the hill. 

“Again!” you shouted elatedly, laughing as you pulled Kevin to his feet and started back up the incline. 

Once, twice, three times you repeated the process, until on your fifth run your luck ran out and you were sent toppling off the sled as you reached the bottom of the hill. You lay still for a moment, trying to catch your breath, before you realized the position you’d landed in. Kevin hadn’t let go of your waist once, resulting in the two of you falling onto the snow covered ground in a pile of limbs, your cheek pressed to his chest. 

“Are you okay?” you asked as you scrambled off of him hurriedly, blaming his newfound blush on the cold. 

“Yeah, are you?” he asked as he sat up slowly. 

“Yes, you’re good landing pad.” 

“Glad to be of service.” He looked around for a moment before laying back down and shouting, “Snow angel!” His arms and legs moved sporadically in the snow, sending you into another fit of laughter. 

——

The next week was spent both with and without Kevin. During the day you would go explore art galleries, cafes, and parks, or just go for a drive in the old truck he’d had since you were seventeen. At night you would spend time with your family, trying your best to pretend that your mind wasn’t elsewhere. 

New Years Eve arrived sooner than you would’ve liked, as it meant your trip was coming to an end. That night Kevin showed up on your doorstep yet again, this time carrying a bottle of champagne. 

“Might I uh, steal you away from your parents for a bit?” he asked when you answered the door, his smile as big and lopsided as ever. You found that you couldn’t help but smile back. 

——

“This is it; home sweet home,” he said as he closed his apartment door behind you. It was small but cozy, with little bits of Kevin everywhere. Boxes of beads were spread across the kitchen table, and some of his students drawings were pinned up on the white front fridge. 

As Kevin went to get some glasses for the champagne, you found your eyes fixating on the piece of art hung on the far wall.

“Do you like it?” he asked as he set a pair of champagne glasses down on the kitchen table. 

“Yeah,” you said, although honestly you weren’t sure. The piece sent a strange sense of loneliness streaking through you. 

“It’s mine.” he said. “I made it I mean.” 

“I didn’t know you were an artist,” you said as you ripped your eyes away from the piece and moved to where he stood at the table. 

“I’m not really,” he deflected, lifting his hands to gesture towards the bottle of champagne. “Shall we?” 

——

A few glasses of champagne later you found yourself laying on Kevin’s couch, legs resting on his lap. His hands tapped an unfamiliar beat on your thighs, the beads on his bracelet creating a makeshift song. 

“You know, this isn’t technically champagne,” you mused, your fingers playing with one of the couches loose strings. “It’s just sparkling white wine,” you continued, lifting your head to look at him. 

“Is it now?” he said to show he was listening, his eyes not straying from where his hands rested on your legs. 

“Yes,” you sat up properly now, your head spinning a bit as blood rushed from your brain to the rest of your body. You watched the clocks hands tick the seconds away, counting down to midnight. 

——

It was 11:57 when he asked you if you still liked his hair, the words heavy with meaning. His breath ghosted across your lips as you pondered for a moment, leaning forward to twist a lock of his pitch black hair between your fingers. You noticed then that his eyes had glazed over, although whether it was because of the champagne or the close proximity you weren’t sure. 

“Yes,” you said finally, and he smiled. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked this time, leaning just a hair closer. 

“Yes,” you said again, barely loud enough for him to hear. 

Four years had passed, but he tasted the same; like that peppermint gum you’d loved in high school, with remnants of coffee from the place down the street. You wondered if you tasted the same, if deep down you were still the same naive school girl that he’d watched leave all those years ago. 

You thought back to the last kiss you’d given him before you’d left, and realized that this felt exactly the same. The only difference was that this time you thought you might finally drown in your guilt. 

But then you felt his teeth dig into your bottom lip and you stopped thinking anything at all. 

——

You awoke to the scent of him on your skin and in your lungs, the warmth of his presence permeating your very being. You were enveloped in it, and for a moment you wished you could stay there forever, wrapped in the warmth of his blankets.

But no. You rolled onto your stomach, not wanting to look him in the eye as your mind grappled with the conflicting bitterness of the truth. Goosebumps rose on your skin as he trailed his fingertips over your bare shoulder, up to your cheek, before coming to rest in your hair. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” you murmured finally, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere of the morning. 

“Wow,” he said. “Time flies.” 

A few moments passed, and part of you lit up with the hope that he might ask you to stay. But then the warmth of his hand left your head, and the warmth of his body left your side. You kept your face buried in the pillow, eyes screwed tight against the tears that you felt rising in you. You could feel the strain in your throat as you forced yourself to hold them back.

“Why didn’t you,” he started and then stopped as his voice wavered. A moment passed, and the another, and then another, until you thought he might have decided to leave it alone. But then he began again. 

“Why didn’t you keep in touch?” 

The question felt like salt added to an already aching wound. You forced yourself to think back to the day you’d left. You’d been eighteen then, ready to get out of your hometown and explore the world. Ready for new adventures in unfamiliar cities. And that’s exactly what you’d found. 

Nevertheless, you’d promised Kevin that you’d keep in touch, keep whatever it was the two of you had back then alive. In this you had failed. You’d been too wrapped up in your luxurious new life, meeting luxurious new people and seeing luxurious new places. 

“I did at first, I just-” you stopped yourself when you heard, more than felt, your voice crack. What good were excuses anyway. 

“Yeah,” you heard him sigh. “At first.” The bed moved underneath you as he stood up. You opened your eyes then, only to feel any lingering hope that you had left being ripped away as you watched him turn towards the door. 

“I’m going down the street to get breakfast,” he said, but you knew what he really meant was: you better be gone when I get back. With that he left the bedroom, his bare feet making so little noise on the hardwood floors that it was like he was a ghost. 

You wanted to call his name, ask him to stay a little longer, but that was too selfish even for you. You couldn’t ask him to wait for the same reason you knew he wouldn’t ask you to stay. 

——

As you stood in the airport saying goodbye to your parents a strange wave of deja vu washed over you. Four and a half years and almost nothing had changed, except this time he wasn’t here to say goodbye. 

[everybodyscupoftea]

the plug

college au jj x reader

word count: 3025

warnings: drinking, cursing, mentions of jj’s dad, four year age gap (20yo jj and 24yo reader)

synopsis: you’re the pogues’ alcohol plug and jj’s favorite person

a/n: this was an anonymous request, age gaps are kinda sensitive, nothing here happens until jj is almost 21 but please be careful out there folks; also i got kinda carried away 

You grew up in the Outer Banks, spent most of your time surfing or playing soccer for the local school’s team. Your house was near the Heyward’s shop, and you picked up odd jobs working Kook events all throughout your high school years. When college rolled around, you started working at the Wreck with Kie.

The Pogue and Kook rivalry never particularly interested you, it seemed frivolous, and after a brief stint on the mainland, you realized the world was so much bigger out of the scope of the Outer Banks. Your refusal to participate was what originally drew Kie to you. The two of you hung out after work on Friday nights, you had access to good weed and were willing to share. Eventually she invited you to a party her friends were throwing.

Honestly, you weren’t exactly over the moon at the idea of partying with a bunch of 17-year olds, but the idea of free beer and a night on the beach seemed promising. You figured you could say hey to Kie’s friends and slip away to walk by the ocean.

Until the afternoon of the party rolled around, and you found out that they had no alcohol. Kie scrambled to explain that the guy who normally sold them beer underage had moved and someone stricter had taken his place and refused their fakes. You sighed and stood, “How much do you need me to get?”

“Wait, what?” Kie asked, taken aback.

“Beer. You want packs or a keg?”

She blinked a few times, “We normally get a keg or two.”

“Let’s go.”

You led Kie to your car and cranked it up, immediately turning up the AC as high as it could go. She plugged her phone in to play some music as you drove to the nearest liquor store to the Boneyard.

“Stay here, I’ll be back,” you told her, and she nodded, promising to sit still. The guy inside was in fact different from the guy who used to sell to you and your friends underage, so you fished out your ID. You knew you looked pretty young for your age and had to resist rolling your eyes when he stared at it intensely for a few seconds before charging you for the keg.

When it was filled, he helped you carry it to your car and the two of you set it in the back. Kie stayed still and quiet in case he tried to card her for some reason too, but you weren’t too worried. Soon enough the two of you were back on the road, heading toward your house for a quick change of clothes.

“Can I borrow something?” Kie asked, looking a little nervous.

“For sure, Kie, take what you want.”

You were only there for about 30 minutes before leaving to get the keg to the Boneyard before party time. Kie was really excited to introduce you to her friends, they’d been hearing all about the cool college girl she’d been hanging out with in her spare time, and they were really interested to see who had her so enthralled.

Pope was the first to greet you, recognizing you from when you worked with him and his dad. He nodded at you with a small smile, and you returned it. John B shook your hand with a huge grin, babbling on about how awesome it was to have someone willing to buy them alcohol again. The last of the group, JJ, was the quiet one.

You weren’t sure what he thought of you at first, it was easy to see he was hesitant to just accept anyone, but you did buy him alcohol. He offered you a fist bump and a small smile before telling you, “Really appreciate the plug.”

“No prob, new guy was pretty suspicious, sorry for your loss.”

JJ let out a loud laugh and warmed up to you instantly. From then on, he followed you around. Whether it was hanging around the Wreck while you were working and he was free, or asking to smoke with you some weekends. Kie thought your new shadow was hilarious and she would send you videos of JJ talking about how funny you were or how pretty you were. It was…endearing.

And then you graduated college and got into grad. You wanted to finally move off the island, and with the money you’d saved up from the Wreck, you finally had enough money to rent an apartment just off Chapel Hill’s campus. The Pogues came with you to help you move all your stuff, which you were grateful for.

You let them handle pizza and went to go pick up alcohol for the group as one last hurrah before they left. John B picked through the bag you brought back with a watery smile, “Gonna suck throwing parties without our favorite plug.”

“Aren’t you dating Sarah Cameron now? Get Rafe to buy your alcohol.”

“He hates us,” JJ whined, “not everyone is cool like you.”

You pointed the bottle in your hand at him, “That’s right, don’t you ever forget.”

And then that was it. You were onto the next, without the Pogues. Or, so you thought.

You’d gotten a job at a coffeehouse just off campus while working through your grad degree. It was easy and brought in a surprising amount of tips, and the atmosphere was really chill, so you loved it. Mostly you dealt with regulars, until one morning. You had your back to the door when it opened, making another coffee, and you called over your shoulder, “Be with you in a sec.”

A familiar, slightly deeper voice, answered back, “All good.”

Whirling around, you grinned widely at the boy, “JJ! Long time no see, bud.”

His eyes widened and he laughed, “Holy shit, dude, you work here?”

“Have for the last few years. What can I get you?”

JJ smiled widely, “Actually, just got hired, I’m here for training.”

You passed the customer their coffee and wished them a good day before turning back to JJ, “Okay, go wash your hands and I’ll grab your hat.”

The rest of your shift was spent goofing off with JJ, every so often interrupted by a customer, and you showed him the ropes. He picked up on it pretty quickly, only stumbling through using the register a few times.

“What brings you here?” you finally asked.

JJ took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair a few times, “Family shit. My dad was an asshole and I wanted to get out. I started picking up extra hours at the hotel, but my dad knew where I was, so I decided to just move to the mainland and start over.”

“Fuck,” you muttered, “sorry to hear that. Everything okay now?”

He nodded, “Yeah, um, started taking a few classes at Chapel Hill, and Pope’s family is helping me keep rent until I get my feet under me.”

“That’s nice of them.”

“Yeah, I just, I needed to start over. And I saw the hiring sign on the door, so I stopped in a few days ago to apply.”

You nudged his shoulder gently, “If you need anything, gimme a call, yeah?”

JJ blushed and nudged yours back, “Yeah.”

Because of the small number of customers, most shifts at the coffeehouse were solo shifts except for opening and closing. You and JJ both had mostly afternoon classes which meant that the two of you were scheduled several times a week together opening and closing.

One night you had soft music playing while he was doing dishes and you were sweeping and mopping the dining area. JJ watched you dance around with the broom, small smile on his lips, and when you caught his eye, he looked away with a blush.

“J,” you called out, trying to catch his eye again.

He looked back, blush still present on his cheeks, “What?”

“You hungry?”

“Oh, um, yeah, I could eat.”

You motioned out the window, “That place has fire po-boys for cheap if you want to get one with me after.”

JJ stared at the lit-up restaurant across the street before shrugging, “Sounds good.”

Thursday closing shift dinner became a thing after that. One of you would call in your food and pick it up before going back to one of your apartments to eat and do homework. JJ had a quiet focus to him that you liked, it helped keep you calm while scrolling through mounds of research you needed for your final paper.

He had one afternoon shift a week, unbeknownst to you, and walked in for it one week to see you laying face down on one of the tables near the counter. JJ paused, glancing over at the guy he was replacing in confusion. Your coworker shrugged and clocked out without saying anything else.

You felt someone crouch down next to your table a few minutes later and he softly called your name. Opening your eyes felt like a chore since you’d had them squeezed closed for so long to block out the anxiety over your paper that for some reason wasn’t writing itself.

“Want some coffee?” he asked, as soon as he finally saw your eyes.

The thought of caffeine made you want to throw up, and you made a face before finally responding, “How about some tea.”

“What kind?”

“Surprise me,” you told him tiredly.

JJ squeezed your shoulder once and walked back around the counter to start making you a drink. You woke your laptop back up to see the word count of 406 staring you straight in the face, and just as you went to put your head back down, a steaming mug of tea was placed in front of you.

“That should help,” JJ told you, smiling softly.

And shockingly, it did. It was warm, and with JJ’s steady presence, you were able to knock out over 1000 words before you had to leave for your afternoon class. He called your name just as you went to push the door open and you turned around, “What?”

“Text me if you need anything else, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Unintentionally, you let JJ worm his way back into your life. One of the classes he struggled with you’d already taken so you fished out your old notes and tutored him for the rest of the semester through it. Sometimes he’d show up at your closing shifts he wasn’t scheduled on and sit at the bar doing schoolwork and distracting you. He did at least always help close which was a huge improvement from when you worked at the Wreck and he showed up to cause problems.

One night was interrupted when the door swung open five minutes from closing. You sighed, not wanting to dirty anything you’d just cleaned, and forced a customer service smile on your face. To your surprise, Kie walked through the door, beaming widely at you.

“Long time, no see!” she called out, opening her arms for a hug.

You beamed and set the rag down on the counter, wrapping her up tightly. She squeezed around your middle hard and you sighed, “Missed you, Carrera.”

“Missed you too.”

She sat next to JJ and the three of you caught up while you and your coworker finished the closing duties. You nodded at her to leave when she held up the garbage bag to let you know she was heading out after a trip to the dumpster.

Kie stood, “Okay, we have to meet up with everyone else, none of us have seen JJ’s apartment yet.”

“Hope you cleaned, JJ,” you told him, bumping your elbow into his side with a laugh before continuing, “last time I was there it was questionable.”

“It’s clean,” JJ defended himself, “you caught me on a bad day.”

“Bad month, more like,” you retorted, laughing when he flipped you off in response.

Kie watched the two of you, amused, “Wow JJ, you’ve come a long way.”

John B and Pope stepped out of the restaurant next door, hands full of food bags, before you or JJ could respond and greeted you just as eagerly as Kie had.

“Getting the gang back together,” John B cheered, lifting two of the bags in the air.

You originally had plans to drink wine and watch the new season of Stranger Things, but the prospect of seeing some of your old friends was too enticing. JJ’s eyed you as you shifted on your feet, “You sure you guys want me butting in.”

Kie rolled her eyes, “We thought you knew we were coming in. JJ said he’d tell you.”

“Hey, don’t pin this on me, I wanted it to be a surprise!” he defended.

Pope spoke in what you think was meant to be a mockery of JJ’s voice, “Don’t bother bro, I’ll just text her and let her know.”

With a laugh, John B added, “It was just like old times whenever we needed alcohol and you’d be all ‘I’m going to visit her at work today, we’ll just swing by and get some after, I’ve got this’. The nostalgia was overwhelming, J.”

JJ scowled at his friends as the teasing continued. You’d known about his crush on you back then, tried not to encourage it because you knew you were leaving and because of the underage situation, but it was funny to hear about it from the other side.

“Okay, so we headed to JJ’s place?” you finally interrupted, saving him from the merciless teasing.

“My place,” JJ confirmed and you broke apart into two separate groups, one in JJ’s car and one in yours.

Kie rode with you and took control of the music, like always. You smiled, “Really is just like old times, huh?”

A few weeks later, one of the Thursday night shifts, JJ seemed less enthused than normal. You didn’t want to pry but you were worried about him. After a few more half answers from him, you finally stopped drying the dishes, “Maybank, what’s going on?”

“My fucking-“ he trailed off for a few seconds before shaking his head and continuing, “my dad called asking for money. Apparently, he’s broke and he owes his dealer. I just can’t, god I can’t fucking escape him.”

He wasn’t crying, but you’d never seen JJ’s jaw so tense before and your heart ached for him. You dried your hands off and pulled him into a tight hug, “Your dad is a piece of shit and you deserve better.”

“Do I?” he asked, almost hysterically, while he tried to pull away.

You didn’t let him go far, “Yes, you do. You’re a good guy who deserves to be happy and successful and far away from his dad’s reach.”

“I wish I could see it like that,” he murmured, voice breaking halfway through. JJ’s whole body shuddered a few times as he fought tears harder than he ever had before. He didn’t want to break down in front of you and look like a child.

“How about you go get dinner, I’ll go buy some alcohol, and we meet at my apartment and watch movies tonight.”

JJ’s lips quirked up into the briefest smile you’d ever seen, “Stepping back into that plug role, huh?”

“Turn 21 then,” you told him, shoving him away gently.

“Two months, and then I’ll finally be able to start repaying my alcohol debts.”

“You’re going to be buying me drinks for years, J.”

He held his pinky out, looking significantly more cheered up, “I promise.”

You linked pinkies with him before pulling him into one more hug with one last thought, “You’re going to have to stick around for a while to keep that promise.”

He cleared his throat, almost nervously, and you pulled away, confused. JJ wouldn’t look you in the eye when he spoke, “Surely you knew.”

“What?” you weren’t really prepared to have the conversation that seemed to be happening.

“That I liked you, idolized you practically. You were so cool and older and you dealt with all my shit.”

“J,” you warned, not sure if you liked where it was going.

He let out a sad laugh, “Please just be honest with me, you knew right?”

With a sigh, you pulled your hat off and clutched it in your hands, “I knew.”

“Fuck,” he mumbled, hands shoved deep in his pockets. JJ looked up at the ceiling with a sharp inhale before continuing, “Fuck, I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. And then I came here and started doing it again.”

And you had to stop that train of thought right there, “Woah, wait, it doesn’t bother me, JJ, you know that right? Like I do enjoy having you around.”

Eyebrows raised, JJ finally made eye contact with you, “What?”

“Well I mean,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly unsure how to continue, “I guess it was a little weird when you were in high school, but it’s not so bad now.”

“What?” he repeated, faintly this time.

You rolled your eyes, “Fucking hell, JJ, really?”

He held his hands up in defense, “Hey, I was walking into this conversation ready to get rejected, let me be surprised.”

“I cannot deal with you, go buy the food, oh my god.”

JJ grinned at you cheekily, “Is this a date?”

You hated him. So much.

He grabbed your hand and squeezed, “Are you asking me out right now?”

“I’m about to rescind the offer if you don’t quit.”

“I can’t believe the day has finally come. Kie is going to flip her shit,” JJ told you, leading you out of the empty shop.

“God, what have I gotten myself into,” you muttered.

JJ stopped walking and looked at you with a soft smile, all traces of teasing gone, “Hey,” he got your attention, “thanks for everything, now and then.” Before you could answer, he continued, “Best plug I ever had.”

“God dammit, JJ!” you exclaimed and his laughter echoed down the empty street as the two of you walked to the po-boy place, hands swinging between you.

[sunflower-swan]

Title: Stay Author: sunflower_swan (me!) Fandom: Harry Potter (Next Gen) Rating: G Pairing: Scorpius/Albus Severus Tags: Pre-Slash, Friends to More than Friends?, mentioned drinking WC: 713 Summary: Scorpius is having a long week, Al saves it with a fantastic proposal.

@ziggystardustminifest Day 4!

This one had me stymied for a few days because I’ve barely read and haven’t written any Next Gen characters at all. So I had to do some research (reading). Then I started something and scrapped it because it wasn’t going to fit the song prompt. Might keep that one in the WIP folder for the future though; I liked where it was going.

Anyway, this is for @keepcalmandexpectopatronum934! You are an amazing human and a fantastic writer, and I’m so pleased to know you!

Read on AO3 or below the break.

With every passing second, the tick-tock of the clock on the wall drove him slowly into an insanity spiral. Scorpius stared at the never diminishing pile of paperwork and groaned.

Was it only Thursday? Why did this week feel like a month?

Before he could get too lost in ruminations about time flying and having fun — or, in this case, crawling to a boring halt — a little tawny owl swept in through his open office door. It dropped a small letter and landed on his desk, puffing out its chest with pride and importance.

Scorpius recognized Al’s inelegant handwriting and adrenaline coursed through his limbs. He ripped open the envelope to find a scrap piece of parchment bearing the words,

Hang out tonight and skive off work tomorrow? 

Scorpius held his breath, the idea rejuvenating him from his previous stupor.

A three-day weekend would be nice. Plus, that mountain of work wasn’t going anywhere; it would still be there on Monday. Ignoring the nagging voice telling him to be a responsible adult, Scorpius flipped the parchment over and wrote,

You read my mind. My place, 7.

After accepting an owl treat and a pat on the head, the owl flew away to deliver Scorpius’ response.

If it had been difficult to focus before, it was now next to impossible. In a few short hours, Al would be at his flat and he wouldn’t have to worry about work for three whole days. Excitement pulsed through Scorpius until the end of the day; it would be just like old times.

While at Hogwarts, they would play hooky on the occasional sunny Friday afternoon — like the first warm day after the long Scottish winter when no one could be expected to focus on schoolwork anyway. Fueled by sweets and laughter, during those stolen moments in the lesser-known recesses of the castle, Scorpius and Albus’ friendship grew and blossomed into an everlasting fondness for each other.

Since they’d graduated and started big kid jobs, and acted like they knew what they were doing, opportunities for goofing off were few and far between. So before he left his office to floo home at the end of the day, he mussed up his hair and dishevelled his robes. As he passed his boss, he mimicked a terrible stomach cramp and muttered an incoherent, Not feeling well. Running the best he could while hunched over and fake moaning, Scorpius hastened to the fireplace and home.

The act was childish and immature, sure, but no one would question the Sick Day Owl tomorrow.

All that was left to do now was wait. Scorpius hated waiting.

Sitting on the couch and holding a book, reading but not comprehending the words, he attempted to not count down the minutes until Al arrived. Though his father disagreed, Scorpius was thankful for a friend as impetuous as Al. The pressures of being a Malfoy would have otherwise resulted in a breakdown long ago. Al helped keep life in perspective.

At seven on the dot, a green flame roared in Scorpius’ fireplace. Albus stepped out with a wide grin and dusted soot off his zip-up hoodie.

“Long week?” he asked.

“The fucking worst,” Scorpius replied with a laugh. “Firewhisky?”

Al wandered over to the bar cart. “Thought you’d never ask.”

He poured two generous servings of the amber liquid and joined Scorpius on the couch.

“Here’s to…” Al lifted an eyebrow held his glass aloft toward Scorpius. “...being a responsible adult most of the time—”

Scorpius chuckled but mirrored the gesture.

“—and a callow urchin the rest of the time,” Al finished.

“I’ll drink to that.”

The rest of the night slipped away in a tangle of drinks and laughter. All of the happiest moments in Scorpius’ life, when time lost all meaning, was when he and Al were together.

A peaceful and contemplative lull settled over their conversation.

Al leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

“It’s pretty late. I should probably—”

“Stay?” Scorpius, acting on impulse, interrupted him. His heart palpated, awaiting Al’s reply.

Opening one eye, Al glanced over at Scorpius. “Ok, Scorp. I’ll stay.”

Releasing a breath, Scorpius did not ponder Why he asked Al to stay, he was just relieved that he said Yes.

[chibsytelford]

Battle of the Alphas - Angel x Miguel x Reader NSFW

*** GIF CREDIT TO CREATORS ***

Authors note - Okay me and @rebel-without-cause-x​ decided to write another threesome fic following on from our Chibs x Jax x Reader one. The idea literally came from nowhere and like 2 hours later we had finished it. We both really love this and hope you all do too!

We are both posting it so it’s easier to just whack it onto our masterlists so sorry if some of you get 2 notifications as I know we have a similar taglist. This was also my first ever time writing smut and I must say I’m really proud of myself. Loved writing this with you @rebel-without-cause-x​

Word Count - 3945

Warnings - swearing and smut. that is all.

Taglist - @agirllovespasta​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @whyisgmora​ @starrynite7114​ @jadesamhart​ @fangirlingaesthetics​ @angelreyesgirl​ @blessedboo​ @sheeshgivemeabreak​ @elcococruz​ @lady-pswrld​ @talicat713​ @angelxshiba​ @xx--day-dreamer--xx​ @thisishowdynastiesareborn​ @trulysuccubus​ @scuzmunkie​ @sadeyesgf​ 

The only sound that could be heard in the coffee shop was the stupid clock ticking, you were so bored as you sat on your stool with your feet up on the counter scrolling through your phone. It was the same every single Wednesday at 11am. Dead.

You were in your own little world as you scrolled through your social media whilst sipping on your iced coffee, you didn’t even hear the bell ring, signalling someone had entered the shop.

 “Not very hygienic querida” the voice of Angel Reyes boomed through the shop.

 “Unless I’m going crazy I don’t see anyone in here” you shrugged placing your phone on the counter but not moving.

 “Hello I’m stood right here you goof” he grinned waving like a kid

 “Right what can I get you” you sassed rolling your eyes.

 “Don’t sass me”

 “Or what?” You smirked, biting down on your bottom lip, leaving him all flustered. 

 One thing you enjoyed in life was leaving two men in particular flustered by your actions.

 “Wrong time, wrong place” he mumbled rubbing the back of his neck.

 It was a rare sight for Angel Reyes to be shy and quiet, but you would be lying if you said it didn't turn you on just a little bit.

 "Can you say that a bit louder?" You were determined to get him to repeat what he had mumbled.

 He stepped forward never taking his eyes of yours. He knew what game you were playing and he wasn't going to let you win.

He was now standing in front of you behind the counter and just as he reached out to place his hand on your leg the bell on the door went signalling you had another customer.

 Looking over you saw it was none other than Miguel Galindo. Now things were going to get very interesting, albeit a bit awkward too.

 You lightly shoved Angel back and smiled at the man in the suit who was looking at you both with a hint of jealousy and anger in his eyes.

 "What can I get you?" You knew Miguel's order as he came in everyday but the awkward silence was unbearable so you needed to say something.

 “Angel" he nodded at the man who was now at the right side of the counter standing inches away from Miguel.

 “Urm no sorry” Angel spat venom laced in his voice “I was here first”

 Rolling your eyes at the two men you dropped your feet off the counter grabbing two takeaway cups and simultaneously made both of their coffees at once, leaving both men standing in awe.

 “I do have two hands you know” you said in a totally innocent way but as you spun round both of them had their eyebrows raised.

 However neither of them had a comeback.

 It was now Thursday and the shop was stupidly busy, seen as the colleges had started back this morning and you were a staff member down because of the flu so stressed was an understatement.

 As if on queue both Angel and Miguel walked in at the same time.

 Turning your back you looked up at the ceiling raising your palms up.

 “Really testing me today big man” you muttered rolling your eyes, you weren’t religious but right now you were praying neither of them started shit especially when you didn’t have time to deal with it.

 “Morning mi dulce” Miguel said, flashing his smile as he leaned against the counter.

 You turned around giving Miguel a smile. "Morning, the usual?" As you asked him you gave him a quick look up and down noticing his hair was more neater than usual and he had a different colour of suit on. Secretly you wished he did it for you but you knew the chances were very slim.

 "Please" he replied rolling his eyes and clenching his jaw as Angel now stood right beside him.

 "Again Reyes? Really?" You noticed the harsh tone that Miguel used when speaking to Angel and you wondered what was going on with the two of them. It was a small town and you knew that the pair were in business together so you figured they'd be friendly or at least civil.

 "I'll take my usual too mi amor" Angel winked at you.

 "Coming right up gentlemen, also can you move over to the side so I can take the next customer's order please?" You kindly asked them.

 The next customer was a good looking middle aged man. He was a different type of handsome compared to Angel and Miguel but he was still attractive nonetheless.

 "What can I get you sir?" You asked him.

 "A toffee latte and your number please" he replied flashing you a smile.

 Before you could answer you saw both Angel and Miguel move towards the man at the same time from the corner of your eye. You needed to diffuse the situation and fast before there was a fight.

 You quickly hopped the counter before the two men reached the customer. You grabbed Angel by his kutte and Miguel by his shirt and led them both outside the coffee shop, but not before gesturing to your only other colleague that you'd be back in a second.

 “Seriously today of all days you both decide to act like fucking top dog” you spat running your tongue over your teeth as you shoved them against the wall. “I have had it up to here with you two pendejos”

 They were both shocked at your outburst.

 “For the last 6 months it’s always the same when you both come into the shop” you glared “always at each other’s throats, I don’t care what is happening with your little business partnership but you sure as hell don’t bring that into my grandpa’s shop”

 Both of them looked guilty.

 “Sorry” Angel mumbled.

 “Yeah I didn’t realise this was affecting you querida, so I’m sorry,” Miguel nodded.

 “So with that being said neither one of you can step foot in this shop until you sort your shit out” you scowled crossing your arms across your chest. “Now if you don’t mind I’ve got a shop to fucking run”

 Leaving both of them standing there you stormed back inside. Linda shot you a worried look.

 “Don’t worry about it Lin, just the two biggest pains in my ass but I’ve sorted it” you nodded as you pulled your hair into a messy bun getting back to work.

 The next couple of days had passed and it was boring without Angel or Miguel coming in to flirt with you, however they had both been blowing up your phone non stop. Texting them both telling them to meet at your house at 8pm. You were going to end this shit today and it was happening tonight.

 If they couldn't come into the coffee shop without being civil to each other then they both deserved what was coming. You were going to act as a mediator and you weren't letting them leave your house until they sorted their shit out.

 Miguel arrived first being punctual as always. You opened your door before he could knock and you waved to Nestor as he drove off.

 You were nervous having a man like Miguel Galindo in your home and you couldn't believe you hadn't invited him before. But there was no good enough reason before whereas now there is a perfect one.

 "Come in, make yourself comfortable" you gestured for Miguel to enter and he did so whilst buttoning his suit jacket. You had made coffee and had put it on the living room table. Miguel noticed there were 3 cups instead of 2 but he didn't say anything, instead plopping himself down on your sofa.

 "Why did you ask me over querida? Not that I'm complaining" Miguel poured himself a cup of coffee and poured you one out too.

 A knock on your door saved you from answering his question and you told him you'd be back in a second. Opening the door Angel Reyes was standing there wearing his red and black checkered shirt with some jeans. He looked delicious and you momentarily forgot why he was here.

 "Who is it?" Miguel's voice pulled you back to reality and you saw Angel clench his fists.

 "What the fuck is he doing here?" Angel questioned you.

 “Please just come in, for me?" You gave Angel puppy dog eyes and were not surprised when they worked.

 You both entered the living room and the tension could be cut with a knife.

 "For fucks sake" Miguel muttered as he held the bridge of his nose. "You have got to be kidding me".

 “Nope” you said, popping the p as you sat on the other sofa, grabbing the pillow as you sat crossed legged, trying to protect your dignity, in that moment you felt severely under dressed in your over-sized baggy Guns N Roses shirt and a pair of bright blue fluffy socks.

 “Right” you said taking a deep breath “this ends tonight, whatever beef you two have got going on you will sit and talk about it like grown adults and neither one of you will leave until it’s done. And if either of you raise your voice even a little bit I will fucking punch you”

 “Are you being like 100 percent serious right now?” Angel asked, staring into your eyes.

 “Deadly” you said no emotion in your voice “now talk, clear the air and if you manage to do that I will make it worth both of your time”

 "Fine you want us to clear the air then I'll start" Miguel sat forward and cracked his knuckles and turned his body to face Angel who was sitting on the sofa to the right of him. "If it's not your father fucking with my life it's your brother, and if it's not your brother it's you" Miguel pointed at Angel.

 “Me? And what did I do Mr Mighty Miguel Galindo?" You glared at Angel who held his hands up in defeat. "Sorry, what did I do Miguel?"

 "I saw her first" he told the Mayan. "You know I saw her first and still you continued to go in and flirt with her"

 "I'm not a fucking mind reader" Angel laughed. "I didn't know you saw her first, but to be honest if I did know it wouldn't have stopped me anyway" he shrugged.

 You were gobsmacked. The men didn't fall out over business. They fell out over a female.

 “So hold on a second” you said running your hand over your face. “None of this was over business and it was over me the whole damn time”

 “Yeah” they both shrugged as you took in the information.

 “I mean who wouldn’t want a goddess like you on their arm” Angel smirked.

 His words did something, your skin suddenly felt hot, like you were on fire. Shifting in your seat as both men stared at you.

 “Now that is something I can agree on” Miguel smiled leaning forward resting his arms on his knees “so mi dulce, now the truth has been laid out on the table, who do you choose? Me or him?”

 It’s like you forgot how to speak as the words got lodged in the back of your throat, you couldn’t really tell them you wanted both of them, could you?

 Just the thought alone made your skin tingle and a familiar heat between your legs. Every time you tried to speak the words wouldn’t fall off your tongue.

 “Urm..I...er” you stuttered.

 "I need some water" you managed to choke out before you abruptly stood up from where you sat and practically ran to your kitchen. You heard the chuckles of the two men and you knew you were in trouble.

 Downing a glass of water you felt a bit cooler but you were not ready to face them yet. You didn't need to be because they both entered your kitchen with their arms folded looking at you expectantly.

 "I don't have all night princesa" Miguel practically purred at you. He knew what he was doing and it was working. The effect the two men had on you was ridiculous and you didn't know how much longer you could last.

 Taking a deep breath you decided you would just be honest and tell them you wanted them both. You figured one of them would back down and give up but little did you know they had other plans.

 "To answer your question from earlier" you said "the choice is impossible and I've always been a greedy person, so I want you both". You didn't know where the sudden confidence came from but the truth was out now and there was nothing you could do about it.

 Angel was the first to make a move, literally taking two large strides until your back was pressed against the worktop.

 “I think we can work something out" Angel said, his tone husky as his fingers played with the hem of your shirt grazing against your soft skin.

 “And you did say if we worked things out that you would make it worth our time” Miguel smirked running his tongue across his bottom lip. “I mean you invite us round to sort this mess out and all your wearing is that shirt, that tattoo peaking out, you knew what you were doing princesa”

 Both men stood in front of you, grinning down with lustful looks in their eyes. They hadn’t even touched you yet and you were aching at the thought of both of them having their way with you, and there was that familiar feeling between your legs.

 “Well what are you waiting for” you giggled biting your bottom lip earning what you swore were growls from both of them.

 Miguel took your shirt off in one go and you cursed yourself for not wearing a bra and pants. They hadn't even properly touched you yet and your nipples were already hard begging to be sucked.

 As if he read your mind Angel took one nipple between his fingers and one in his mouth and sucked and rolled them gently. The feeling was magical and you could barely stand up.

 You pulled Miguel down to your face and smashed your lips against his, immediately putting your tongue in his mouth. You moaned into his mouth when he brought his hand up to your neck and wrapped his fingers gently around your throat.

 You managed to pull away from Miguel long enough to take his suit jacket off followed by his shirt leaving him in only his suit trousers. He was a sight for sore eyes.

 Reaching out you dragged a finger from his chest all the way down to the waistband of his trousers. You could tell he was hard just by looking at the solid shape in his pants. Not wanting to leave Angel out and wanting to touch him aswell you pulled his head away from your chest and discarded his shirt leaving him in nothing but his jeans.

 You couldn’t believe your luck, as you looked up at the men through your lashes, you literally had two of the most alpha males waiting to pleasure you and you wanted to tease them a bit more before you let them have their way with you.

 Jumping up so you were now sat on the work top, legs spread giving them a clear view of the prize they so desperately wanted. Running your hands down your body you squeezed your boobs.

 “Right enough play time princesa” Miguel growled as he threw you over his shoulder carrying you back to the living room. He wasted no time dropping you on the sofa.

 “Final chance to back out sweetheart” Angel said as he ran his fingers down your cheek “you sure this is what you want?”

 Biting your lip as you nodded sending them a pleading look, you were so turned on right now it hurt, squeezing your thighs together to try and release some pressure. Then Miguel pulled your legs apart, running his fingers across your core making you whimper at the sensation.

 The sound of a belt buckle dropping on the floor made you open your eyes to see Angel stood there now completely naked, your mouth watering at the sight of his thick cock.

 You waggled your forefinger at him gesturing for him to come closer. You were desperate to have his cock in your mouth and you didn't want to waste another second.

 Angel smirked at you shaking his head but nevertheless he obliged and he stood in front of you. You immediately took his dick in your hands pumping it a few times before opening your mouth and putting it in. He was big but you managed to get him all the way to the back of your throat even if you did choke on it a few times.

 He closed his eyes and grabbed a fistful of your hair encouraging you to keep going faster and deeper and you did.

 Whilst sucking Angels cock Miguel had planted his mouth on your clit and was now rolling his tongue across it causing you to moan on Angels dick. The vibration from your moan caused his dick to twitch in your mouth and you looked up at him and gave him a wink.

 Miguel was a pro when it came to eating you out. He used his tongue perfectly and within seconds you had your first orgasm of the night.

 Your screams were muffled with Angel still fucking your mouth, tears were streaming down your cheeks as well as saliva running down your chin.

 This was better than you had ever dreamed of and you knew by the end of it you would be completely spent.

 Suddenly Angel pulled out making you whimper.

 “Unless you want me to cum right now it’s for the best” he winked before nodding at Miguel, silently telling him it was his turn.

 Within seconds you now had Miguel’s dick in your mouth, using your hand to play with his balls whilst Angel slipped two fingers into your entrance, moaning at the feeling of being stretched out as he soon reached his knuckles, curling his fingers perfectly, hitting your g spot. You were still sensitive from your first orgasm and were honestly so close to another.

 Your breathing became erratic as both men continued with no signs of stopping.

 “That's it princesa” Miguel grunted “god you look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock, now the final question is who gets to be the first one to feel you wrapped around their dick?”

 There was the alpha-ness coming out to play. You pulled back slightly so you could talk.

 “Don’t know” you moaned as Angel continued fingering you “don’t care. Just need to be fucked”

 "So needy" Angel murmured.

 The two men looked at each other and seemingly decided between themselves as Angel removed his fingers from your soaking folds and lifted them up to his mouth tasting you.

 "Delicious" he said as he moved away from you, letting Miguel take his place.

 You expected Miguel to use his fingers but he lined up his cock at your entrance and looked at you for approval.

 "I'm on the pill" you told him and that was all the confirmation he needed. He sunk his cock deep into you and thrusted slowly at first but quickly picked up the pace. The sound of your bodies hitting against each other echoed around the room.

 Miguel pinned your hands above your head and hoisted your legs over his shoulders so he could go deeper if that was even possible. You were having the best fuck of your life so far but Angel was still to have his way with you.

 Angel was standing over you watching the pleasure on your face stroking his own cock. He looked amazing and you couldn't wait until his cock was deep inside you. He again took your nipple into his mouth gently licking it causing you to moan.

 “Shit” you whimpered “Miguel, oh god, please don’t stop”

 “Don’t plan on it” He panted as he thrust into you harder, his name falling off your tongue.

 You were being pushed closer and closer to that edge again and you loved it, looking up you watched Angel tug at himself watching you getting fucked senseless, his breathing becoming erratic. Without warning you screamed, moaned and whimpered as another orgasm washed over your leaving your legs shaking, you knew you didn’t have much more left in you as Miguel thrust one last time shooting his seed into you.

 “You got one more in you” Angel asked as he bit his lip as Miguel moved out of his way. “I’m not gonna go easy on you okay”

 “Okay” you whispered, feeling your eyes starting to drop.

 “Come on princesa keep your beautiful eyes open” Miguel whispered as he palmed your breasts as Angel pushed himself into you with ease.

 “God you feel so good” he grunted as he grabbed your hips no doubt leaving bruises in his wake.

 "Tell me what you want querida" Angel wanted to go fast and hard but he knew how exhausted you were so if you wanted slow and sensual he would oblige.

 "Fuck me harder Reyes" you panted and he did. He intertwined his fingers with yours bringing your knuckles to his mouth and kissing each of them gently. The gesture took you by surprise and you smiled up at him causing him to slow down his thrusts considerably.

 "I'm gonna cum if you keep looking at me like that” Angel said.

 "You've done so well tonight mi amor" Miguel praised you now stroking your hair whilst slowly circling your clit with his other hand. He knew you were close and so did Angel.

 "Cum for us" they both said in unison and you did, spilling your juices all over Angels cock. He followed soon after and admired his cum pouring from your folds with a proud smile on his face.

 "Let's get you all cleaned up" Angel said removing his dick from you and heading to your bathroom to get you a wet cloth to wipe yourself.

 All you could do was lay there, with a mix of both men’s cum and your own pooling onto the sofa, your breaths were heavy, and so were your eyes. You had never experienced a high as good as this and you weren’t one to shy away from turning blunts down.

 “You did amazing querida” Miguel whispered kissing your head. You didn’t even have the energy to reply so you grumbled as Angel returned with the wet cloth, gently he ran the cloth against your thighs as he traced your tattoo with his fingers.

 One of them retrieved your shirt from the kitchen and pulled it over your head. It was only 10pm and you kind of expected both of them to leave pretty soon but they surprised you as they pulled their boxers back on before Miguel scooped you up in his arms as he sat on the other end of the sofa as Angel brought you a mug of coffee he just made.

 So you were now snuggled in between both men, completely spent from the activities of the evening, your eyes were getting heavier as Angel played with your hair and Miguel massaged your feet.

 “You hungry Reyes?” Miguel asked Angel and that was the last thing you heard before you drifted off to sleep.

[shattered-mirror-fanfic]

HAHAHA! I’M EARLY THIS TIME! Anyways, before you read: This is your warning about how in this chapter there’s mentions of child abuse, blood, death and scientific experiments on a child. You have been warned.

Ao3 Link: Chapter below cut for those who read it here on tumblr: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32206135/chapters/84899077

The walk home from school was dull as always, walking along the grey path, connected to a grey street, little color in the world. Despite being only six years old, Desdemona had many responsibilities, especially after their soul fully developed. 

The routine was simple: walk home, get homework done, change clothing, get a snack, curl up on the couch with the snack, a blanket, and their favorite doll until their dad got home. Usually on Thursdays like this, Desdemona feared when their dad would get home because he would yell at them and have them turn off the tv and get in the car. This new addition only started when their mom disappeared. One day, at 3:20 when she was meant to get home, she didn’t show up. It wasn’t Des’s fault, they were only a child and their soul wasn’t even fully developed, they were only wondering what if’s, it shouldn’t be their fault that it became real. 

No matter, they had other worries. They didn’t have any homework so they went straight up to their room, changing out of the light blue and white uniform shirt and white shorts into a comfortable black and white striped t-shirt and brown overalls instead. They grabbed a blanket and pink axolotl doll from their bed and went downstairs again. Before going into the living room, they popped into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of cheese puffs from the pantry that were hidden away at their height so their father couldn’t confiscate it. There weren't many of the puffs left so they took the bag with them. They went to the living room and climbed onto the grey couch, covering themself and their plushie with the blanket. They grabbed the discarded remote and turned on the tv, pressing random numbers until they got to the cartoon channel. 

Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to an hour, and the front door slammed open as the episode faded to black. 

“Turn that tv off right now! Get up and get in the car, traffic was held up enough already!” The tall man who entered had yelled. Desdemona hated their father on Thursdays, he was always so mean and would only let Desdemona eat stale animal crackers that tasted both bland and too sweet. Regardless, the child slid off the couch and went to the door, putting on some boots and grabbing their father’s hand to be led to the car.

They were set in a booster seat and buckled in with the stupid animal crackers and doll. Their father slammed the door shut and got in the drivers spot, driving off down the road to their destination. 

Roughly twenty minutes had gone by when the car stopped outside of a large grey building located along a dirt path. Desdemona dreaded this place, there were no good people there, only mean men in big white coats. The place was bland and basically greyscale, no pictures or paintings anywhere, it was like a prison. Desdemona’s father led them to a room with only a bed, a few chairs, some counters and cabinets. Without instructions, Des hopped on the bed and waited, swinging their legs while their father sat in one of the folding chairs in the corner of the room. The child held their plushie tightly, letting their dirty blonde hair fall in front of their face, hearing only their father wishing for a normal child before three of the mean men in white coats came in and began their tests.

~~~

Souls develop in a human by the age of five, beforehand their souls are usually white, empty and still developing their traits. For Desdemona, their soul didn’t develop correctly, and by the time the trait showed itself, it was too late to guide their soul differently. It was malformed and full of hate and malice, the only things they were shown before, not an ounce of KINDNESS was present in soul tests, the only trait that had developed into a positive range was DETERMINATION, and even then, it was very weak, and couldn’t manage being the dominant trait on it’s own. 

It was very rare for souls to be malformed, and even rarer to have all but one trait be malformed. Oddities like these seem to be caused from one parent having a malformed trait, which in Desdemona’s case, could be their father having malformed kindness, after all, he was a “businessman”. It could be possible for a soul to be malformed in another way, where all the traits exceed limits, the soul exhibits all traits to an extreme and displays all the traits equally among the heart. But this has only remained speculation. 

~~~ “Des, wake up.” They heard their father say. There wasn’t a clock in the room, but even then, they knew it had been at least five hours since the doctors gave them the medication that put them to sleep. Desdemona sat up and saw their soul was exposed, it was black and inky, with a little dot of red on the side where a doctor most likely had injected raw determination into their soul to make it normal. 

“Sorry dad, I’ll be better…” The child weakly said.

“Listen Des, I know you hate me, I’m just still upset about what you did to your mother.”

“I didn’t do anything! It’s not my fault!” Desdemona cried. Their dad sighed and picked them up and carried them to the car, putting them into their seat before settling into his own and beginning the drive home. 

“We’re having mac and cheese again, and I want you to behave tomorrow and remember…”

“No showing my soul to anyone.”

“And if someone asks?”

“Say it’s determination and dodge other questions...”

“Good, sorry the tests ran a bit late, your soul is just needlessly complicated.” 

The drive was boring as always, the sky was illuminated with the end of a sunset, but it wasn’t anything. Des fell asleep in their seat, only waking up when the car drove over a bump that jolted the end of it. 

Tomorrow is another day.

~~~

Stepping onto the schoolyard was a chore, it was tedious, unnecessary, the educational systems flawed anyway, and yet it is still done because in our minds we believe that we would not make it anywhere without wasting time here. Desdemona wished they could just stay at home and learn from the internet where they only learn what’s necessary for a future career.

But, no, the elder gods demanded that all children (which is all people under 18) are required to attend hell to understand what awaits them if they step out of line. Unfortunately Desdemona was not one of the “gifted” ones that were made to believe that they were smart when in reality it’s just a facade to let the parents know which kid needs therapy before 16. 

In reality, Desdemona was just standing paralyzed at the school gates, knowing nothing excited them. They were tired, full of hatred, and bored. They looked around, seeing all the happy friends playing chase and other games, no one was alone, this saddened the blonde child at the gate. Until a new face appeared next to them.

“Hi! Who are you?! Names [REDACTED]! What’s yours?!” A boy excitedly spoke. Desdemona stared at the white-haired boy, stunned. Someone wanted to talk to me?

"My name is Des...Desdemona."

"That's a cool name! Say friend, what's your soul trait? Mine's determination!" The boy continued to speak. Desdemona stared at [REDACTED] before answering.

"Determination...at least I think…"

"Well can I see?" Before Des could say no, the teacher came out and called the kids inside for class time. "Hey, we'll talk after class ok? Bye friend!" And the boy left. He was always interesting.

~~~

The school day was done in an instant, and Desdemona found themself walking back home. The clouds greying above, making the air cold and damp.

"Desdemona! You should wait here until your father can get you! It's going to be a downpour!" They heard the teacher cry. They were only a little out of the gate, so it probably was best to listen. They walked back to the roofed area that the teacher was under, along with their new friend [REDACTED]. "I'll call your dads, do you mind waiting here?"

Two shakes of the kids heads and she left.

"Hi Dessie! Can I see your soul now?" Desdemona's new friend asked. They were conflicted, but ultimately, they trusted [REDACTED]. They pressed and hand against their own chest and out popped the pitch black soul. "Wow! I haven't seen a soul like that before!"

"My dad doesn't like me showing my soul…" 

"It's cool though! Don't feel bad!" The comment made Des smile, it was great to have a friend that accepts their oddities. The two talked about all sorts of child nonsense afterwards. About ten minutes had passed when the teacher came back out, her face was one of distress.

"Desdemona, your father will be here shortly, [REDACTED], I'll walk you to where your mother is, ok?" The kids nodded. They waited a few minutes until a car pulled up and out stepped Desdemona’s father carrying an open umbrella.

“C’mon Des, I have to take care of paperwork before eight.”

“Dad! Can my friend come over? Please?” The blonde child asked, running up to their father.

“What?! N-...fine, whatever keeps you happy, but you know the rules. Ma’am, is that ok?” The grown man asked, directing his attention to the teacher.

“Well, I would have to inform [REDACTED]’s mother, but if she agrees, then it’s fine.” The teacher responded. Desdemona smiled and ran back to give [REDACTED] a hug while the teacher pulled out her phone again. 

~~~

The ride home wasn’t dull for once, this time, it was fun! Desdemona and their friend sat and chatted the whole time, talking about the most random of things. When they finally got home, Des bolted upstairs to change into their usual after school clothes as fast as they could so they could get back to their friend. They could talk and play for the rest of their short lives the whole night! It was so much fun, and it was only sunset when Des’s father said that [REDACTED] had to get ready to go home. 

“Des, can I ask you something?” Their father asked, leading them to the kitchen while their friend was packing their bag still. 

“Sure!” They had left the kitchen and went to the empty backyard with only a tree and some bushes. 

“When did you think you could keep it a secret that you showed your friend your soul?” Des choked at the sentence. 

“Father, I’m sorry, he didn’t tell anyone and no one else saw!” The child spoke, tears forming in their dark eyes.

“Well that’s where you’re wrong, as your teacher saw and informed me when she called to ask if I could come to pick you up.”

“Dad! I’m sorry! I’ll be better! I can make it up to you!”

“Too late, Desdemona.”

~~~

When [REDACTED] finished packing his bag, he slung it over his shoulder and looked around, not seeing their friend at all. 

“Hey Dessie?! Where are you?!” He asked to the open room. I should investigate! And off he went, looking around in every room for their friend, he never saw them leave so who knows where they went! Only after going downstairs again and seeing his friend’s father walk into the kitchen from the backdoor with red hands, did [REDACTED] figure out where their friend was. 

Into the back yard he went! Only after sneaking by Des’s father and opening the slightly ajar door, did his smile and his heart sank. There, laying on the ground in front of the willow tree, was Desdemona, unmoving, and in a puddle of a dark red liquid. [REDACTED] rushed over to kneel in front of their now deceased friend. 

“Dessie...please wake up, why won’t you wake up?!” He shouted while tears formed in his eyes. “Dessie! Please! You’re my only friend! Why can’t you wake up?!” He shook his friend’s body and noticed the black soul, shattered in half. The boy grabbed it and held it close. “Please wake up! Please wake up! Please wake up!” 

Then, the feeling of [REDACTED]’s skin being torn off in pieces hit, and he let out a sharp cry of pain. The shards of the black soul soared up and [REDACTED]’s red soul was drawn out. “I need you to wake up!”

Silence…

The screaming had stopped, the black soul was absorbing new determination provided by the red one. [REDACTED] fell onto his side and let his eyelids grow heavy. 

The only other thing he could remember from that day were police sirens, an ambulance, and being paralyzed, forced to stare as his friend was covered in a white blanket, and carted off. 

~~~

That was the last of Desdemona, a child born with a destiny to die at the hands of a cruel father just because they had an imperfect soul.

Not even time remembers the life it took, the only one who could remember the blonde child was the one with their soul. The boy grew up on a quest to bring back their once friend, no matter how much their hate and death corrupted them. 

[doc-pickles]

what are you doing new year’s eve?

So this final fic of 2020 is dedicated to @odd-birds-and-booksellers for multiple reasons. Firstly she’s been my first friend in the Jolex fandom and one of the reasons the group chat exists. Despite how much we make fun of each other she’s truly become one of my favorite people (she knew I was pregnant approximately 15 seconds after I peed on a stick and hours before anyone else) and I wouldn’t have stuck around here without her.

Secondly it’s dedicated to her because my final fic for the year is an ode to the reason I’m in this fandom in the first place and the series she keeps begging me to write for. That’s right y’all, I’m posting a piece for my “It’s Nothing Funny Just to Talk/Little Pieces of You” universe! (she thought I was gonna kill someone... hehehe)

I hope y’all enjoy this cute and fluffy one shot! Thank you all for reading, commenting, and encouraging me to write this year!

also one million anons asked me for a birth fic... well here it kinda is

xoxo Nina

Maybe it's much too early in the game

Oh, but I thought I'd ask you just the same

What are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?

Jo was fine, really she was. She blamed being two weeks from her due date for the state of discomfort she found herself in. She’d been experiencing Braxton Hicks for almost a month already (something Alex loved to point out that he could always see as it happened, much to Jo’s annoyance) so the tightening of her abdomen wasn’t a new feeling. What was new was the aching in her back and hips that had prompted her to take a long steamy shower in an attempt to ease a bit of the pain and discomfort she felt.

The water had helped a bit, but all Jo really wanted was for Alex to rub her back and hold her while she napped. He had asked before he left for work if she was alright, but Jo had assured him she was fine. New Year’s Eve was always a long night for him at work with an influx of teenagers hurt by firework accidents or drunken mishaps. She has reminded him that she wasn’t due for two weeks and she would make it through one night without him there. Now though, Jo was regretting her decision as she struggled to get comfortable on their couch, her back aching as she shifted back and forth. 

“Hoooooly shit,” Jo gripped the armrest of the couch tightly as she attempted to sit up, a roaring pain ripping through her stomach as she desperately tried to get air into her lungs. The feeling passed after a moment, letting her take a deep breath as she settled one hand onto her stomach. “I need you to calm down in there, please and thank you.” Her phone chose that moment to ding loudly, a text from Alex popping up as she reached for her phone.

Thursday 4:39 PM

How are my girls doing?

Thursday 4:41 PM

all good over here :)

Deciding not to mention her pain, Jo set her phone aside and went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Whenever her Braxton Hicks got bad Alex would always tell her it was because she was dehydrated. He was usually right, though she’d never admit it, but the water usually calmed down the sensations flowing through her body. 

Slowly making her way to the kitchen, Jo grabbed a glass and sipped on the water as she tried to even her breathing. Her mind was already racing, heart pounding as she tried to keep her composure. She’d only had one bad spout of pain, it could be a fluke or a pulled muscle for all she knew. 

The searing pain she’d felt only minutes before returned again, the glass in her hands slipping from her fingers as a pained groan left her. Watching the water and glass splatter across the counter top, Jo realized how serious her pain was. Her eyes flitted to the clock, noting it was just hitting 5 PM. Alex would be home at 11, she would hold out as long as she could until then. 

-

Thursday 6:32 PM

Want me to grab a late dinner for us? Figure you’ll still be up anyways. 

Alex stared down at the text he’d sent almost 20 minutes earlier as if his staring would prompt a response from his wife. Logically he knew she was probably sleeping, but he’d been worried about her all day. She’d barely slept the night before and her back had been hurting for almost two days now. He wasn’t stupid he’d done enough rounds on OB to know that Jo was probably getting close to going into labor, a thought that both excited and terrified him. Erring on the side of caution, he dialed Jo’s number and waited for her to answer. 

“Hi you’ve reached Josephine Karev! I’m probably teaching right now so leave a message after the beep!”

“Hey babe, call me back whenever you can. Love you.”

Hanging up the phone and grumbling to himself, Alex begrudgingly turned back to his patient files. He had a lot of work to do, but his mind was currently occupied worrying about his wife and their unborn daughter. 

-

“Oh shit… oh shit no no no,” Jo’s panicked cries echoed across the empty loft as another contraction made its way through her stomach, her body curling in on itself as she struggled to lean against the couch. A glance at the clock in the kitchen told her it was only 7:19 meaning Alex wouldn’t be home for a few more hours. 

She knew she couldn’t last that long, her contractions were steadily growing closer together and more painful. Reaching for her phone, Jo sent off a quick text before focusing her attention on breathing through the steady flow of contractions now racking her body. 

Thursday 7:21 PM

in labor, moving fast. need drugs and husband. 

-

It was nearing 8 PM and Alex still hadn’t heard from Jo for the last three hours. He’d called twice to no answer and his texts were sent but not read. He was ready to jump in the car and rush home to check on her when someone called out his name. 

“Alex!”

Jackson Avery was jogging towards him, dressed in a button up and slacks with a six month old Harriet on his hip. He’d been talking about his mom’s New Year’s Eve party all week, so Alex was shocked to see him there. 

“Hey man, you skipping out on the party,” Alex searched Jackson’s serious expression for a moment, reading his best friend's face easily and letting a sigh out. “Where is she?” 

“April took her up to L&D while I came to find you. She was screaming at me the whole drive here,” Jackson smirked at Alex as they walked down the halls. “I’m sure you’re in for a fun night.”

Thanking Jackson, Alex headed towards the maternity ward with a sense of urgency. He knew if Jo had been worried enough to call April that she was probably pretty far along in her labor. Spotting the red head down the hall, he picked up his pace and stopped in front of her. 

“They’re just checking her out now, her contractions have been coming every three and half minutes but I think they’re speeding up,” April gave Alex a small smile as she made to leave. “She’s been asking for you the whole time.”

“Thanks April.”

“It’s the least I could do. When I was in labor she sat with me while Jackson was in surgery despite the fact that she was throwing up every twenty minutes from her morning sickness,” April shrugged. “Besides if I didn’t go she probably would’ve given birth on your couch.”

Alex chuckled, his hand rubbing his neck nervously, “I’ll text you guys when she’s here, thanks again.”

April left then, Alex taking a breath before entering the room that April had just left. Jo was laid in bed, eyes closed and curled in on herself as she struggled through a contraction. Surging forward Alex placed one hand on Jo’s back as the other moved to run through her hair. She instantly relaxed at his touch, eyes popping open to meet his. 

“I was wondering why you weren’t answering my texts,” Alex leaned down to press a kiss against her forehead. “You need anything? Water, ice chips, hard drugs?” 

Jo shook her head, breathing through the end of her contraction before speaking again, “No they said I’m too far along for an epidural. I just have to suffer until she gets here. My water broke as soon as I walked into the hospital, I think she knew you were waiting.”

Eyeing the monitor tracking her contractions, Alex realized that she was nearing the end of her labor, “You should’ve called me, I could’ve come to get you.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m here now,” Jo leaned against Alex’s hand as she struggled to pull a breath in. “Ow ow ow ow, holy shit mother-”

Jo’s next words were silenced as she pressed her face against Alex’s chest, fists clenched against the bed rail as her body tensed once more. Keeping his eyes on her monitor, Alex kept his fingers running through Jo’s hair in an attempt to comfort her, “Breathe baby, it’s okay just breathe.”

Once she finally took a deep breath Jo relaxed in Alex’s hold, her voice alarmingly calm as she spoke, “I really need to push. Like right now.”

“Let me get the doctor, just hold on a minute babe,” Alex couldn’t help the wide grin he sported as he left Jo’s side to call down the hallway for her doctor. In just a little while they were going to be parents… 

-

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Happy New Year!”

The TV played softly in the background as fireworks lit up the dim hospital room but Alex and Jo weren’t paying attention to the celebration of the new year. Both had their eyes firmly locked on the sleeping bundle in Jo’s arms, light curls peeking out of the pink hat on her head as her lips pursed in her sleep. 

“You do that when you’re sleeping,” Alex pointed out as he ran his finger down his daughter’s cheek. “You look like a fish, it’s kinda funny that she’s already doing it.” “She’s not even three hours old and you’re comparing her to a fish,” Jo chuckled as she looked from her daughter to her husband. “She needs a name still.”

“How about Goldie,” Alex’s suggestion earned him a slap on the arm from Jo, a laugh escaping him as she did so. “I was kidding! What about the one you really liked?” Eyeing her daughter as if testing out the name she’d brought up so many months ago, a grin settled on Jo’s face, “I like it. Annabeth Brooke Karev.”

“Glad we finally decided on that, I thought you were never going to choose,” Alex pressed a kiss to Jo’s lips, then another to the top of Annie’s head. “Happy New Year Annie.”

Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight

When it's exactly 12 o'clock, midnight

Welcoming in the New Year, New Year's Eve

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

The Hard Things--Alternative Ending

Doing the right thing is never easy. Calum and Freya have a lot going for them. But what happens when fear gets in the way.

Inspired by I Follow Rivers by Marika Hackman and Starting Line by Luke Hemmings.

Calum X Black Female OC. Angst with a happy ending. Because my characters should never be happy.

The Hard Things--Original Ending.

Materlist (on a semi hiatus)

___________

If Freya were going to be honest, she would admit that the second she saw Calum and his friends walk into the building she knew things were going to be bad. But Freya’s not being honest. Because being honest would almost include admitting just how too easy it was that day. How if those particular sequences of events hadn’t happened that specifically, then she wouldn’t be here--trying not to watch the quiver in his chin or the way he blinks rapidly. Then she wouldn’t be trying to forget the way his voice quakes.

But they did happen in that particular order. On a Thursday afternoon, he and his friends walked through the door. And here, here at this part, it’s easy to be honest.

Honestly, she is staring--way too hard and way too long at the rag-tag gaggle of people, but especially the man pulling up the rear of the group with a bright red hat snug on his head and covering his eyes, though not even the brim can hide the plump full lips pulled up into a tiny grin at something that must’ve been said. Because another guy, this one fairer-skinned in a hat too and a baggy t-shirt is also laughing. And of course, this group would enter just as Tre stepped away to check on the lanes already throwing. Vanessa wasn’t too far from the desk, but she was trying to help some parents figure out when they could schedule an event for someone’s birthday in the coming weeks.

This only leaves Freya as the only person available right now until rounds were completed to handle any new patrons. With a glance down to the clock on the computer, she could see that a couple more folks would be coming back to the front at any point. But clearly, that point wouldn’t come quick enough.

“Hi,” Freya greets flicking her gaze back up to the group with a quick smile. It’s the training. The fact that more than once she’d been told that customers liked her, especially the way she gave instructions but she needed to smile more. And if this weren’t the job keeping her afloat during her time of getting her degree, in addition to the administrative desk work she did at the university, she would leave here in a heartbeat. Possibly even in the blink of an eye. Whichever was faster.

“Hey! We were hoping you had a couple of lanes for us.”

Freya counts the head. “Just you seven?”

The guy that spoke initially turns the man in the back with the bright red hat on. “Still no word from her?”

The guy shrugs. “Don’t sweat it.” And Freya clings to every syllable. The almost sleepy drawl to his voice lined with a twinge of an accent. She can’t place it at first. But all of them share slight variations in it. The man in the red hat’s voice is low but smooth.

“Yeah just the seven of us,” a taller man pipes in.

“Okay, we can only have two people throwing on a lane at a time. I can put you on neighboring ones but we’ve got very strict rules about how many people can throw at a time.”

There’s a murmur amongst the group but eventually, it comes back to Freya that they’re okay with it. She runs down the safety rules, the forms they have to form out, and checks their IDs. She notices the man with the red hat’s name is Calum and though she knows she shouldn’t, she tries to commit it to memory. It won’t last long. She forgets names all too fast, but she never forgets a face.

“Nessa, watch the desk for me!” Freya calls out as she collects the cases with the axes and directs the party to their lanes. There’s a table for convening and a separate for the axes to rest. “Alright,” she starts with a quick whistle to settle the group. They get chatty but are quick to turn their attention back to her. “I don’t want to kick anyone out, but I will. So one last recap of the rules.”

When Freya finishes, she has the entire group repeat the rules back to her. When they return it to her all correctly, she smiles. “I appreciate y’all already. There are several range officers. They monitor carefully from several posts,” and she points them out as she speaks. “The shift rotates out in an hour. Meaning you’ll have to pause let the old shift go and let the new shift jump in. You’ll hear beeps to signal you to stop and start. If you have any other questions or concerns, you can find me at the front or a range officer. And we’ll be happy to help. Let’s keep all fingers, toes, extremities, and eyeballs intact and we can have a great day together. Enjoy.”

Usually, in her safety spills and best way to throw, Freya makes sure to keep eye contact with everyone in the group. However, she places a purposeful gaze on Calum when she tells them to enjoy. It’s reckless--she knows that. A little flirting hasn’t hurt her. Besides, she knows the moment she walks away, he’ll forget about her. They always did and she likes it like that. Flirty enough to keep good reviews, but never too flirty to insinuate anything more.

In her departure, Freya feels eyes on her, lasting longer than usual. And maybe she put more emphasis behind the swish of her hips and maybe she hoped it was Calum watching her walk away. But she doesn’t dare turn around. No matter how much she hopes in a fleeting second that maybe she had flirted just a little too much, Freya does not turn around to confirm or deny anything.

Back at the front desk, Freya takes a look at the cameras. Anyone at the front can see the lanes too--it’s for safety when you have live blades. Her gaze travels over each one though just out of the corner of her eye she catches the bright red hat. A few guys clasp him on the back but she can’t hear whatever else is said. The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly. As people leave, few come in to replace them. The weekend will be busier--it always in. And Freya knows that soon too, once the afternoon becomes evening things will pick up just a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Everything okay?”

Freya barely sees who it is talking before they’re out of the door. Calum, phone pressed to his ear. She watches him for a beat as he paces near the front windows of the establishment. Her gaze doesn’t linger long before something on the floor catches her eye. She sees it’s black and square. When she gets closer it looks like a wallet. Clearly used and loved by the creases in it. She glances back up to Calum to see him still on the phone and peeks at the ID just to make sure who it belongs to.

With the blank stare of Calum’s ID photo looking up at her, Freya takes it back behind the desk. She’ll wait until he gets off the phone. A minute or two later, the door chimes again with Calum reentering.

“Hey, you dropped this,” she calls out, stepping out from the desk to hold out the wallet.

Calum pats his pockets and a split second panic causes his eyes to go wide. “Oh shit, thanks. I-I didn’t even realize it fell out of my pocket.”

“No worries. Just glad to get it back to you.” Calum takes it and slips it into his pocket, hands patting the outside to make doubly sure it’s secure. “You guys doing okay back there?

“Yeah, we’re good. Though I think somehow the girls are kicking our asses.”

Freya smiles with a small tuft of laughter escaping her. “It’s power and finesse. You can tear down brick buildings but if you don’t get the release right so it’s not twirling over the axis too many times, you’ll come up with nothing.”

“So says the expert?”

Her cheeks heat for a second at the raised eyebrow Calum gives her. Running her tongue over her teeth to hide the smile, Freya nods. “Yeah, I’ve thrown an axe or two in my lifetime. So I guess that counts as me being an expert.”

Calum laughs. Whether it’s at her or not, Freya’s not sure. But she likes the sound of it. “Tell me what else the expert suggests.”

A moment passes where Freya’s watching his gaze. Wondering if an anime glint will twinkle over his brown eyes because it’s a smooth delivery. Smoother than some of the stuff she’s done. There’s no way he’s fucking real.

Freya takes a half step back, slipping through the threshold that separates the front desk from the main lobby and the hallway to the back where the lanes are set up. “This expert suggests that you try her advice and impress all your friends.”

“More finesse. In the wrist, right?”

“In the wrist.”

A shy smile is shared between the two of them. It borders telling everything and saying nothing at all, borders on giving away on how much Calum might’ve considered concocting a ruse just to get her attention and how much he did backtrack on his plan because it was his sister calling and that shocked him. The smile borders on Freya twirling the Havana twists around her finger and her rolling her eyes at Calum’s thinly veiled attempts at flirting.

Both of them are saved by the front door chiming and Freya gives a nod to Calum before turning her attention to the person now entering. But Calum watches the way she leans into the counter and smiles down at the small child standing next to their parent. “Oh my god, you’re getting so big,” Freya comments and then walks back around to settle next to them.

“No, Fre, I’m not bigger dan yesterday,” the kid responds.

“Huh, could’ve fooled me. Your dad will be out in just a second. Shift change had to wait for one more person. Anything cool happen at school today?”

Calum leaves then, though he can catch the small boy gush about the races he won at recess. It’s probably crazy of him to try and find some sort of way to come back here again soon, but Calum’s already trying to put together an excuse.

When Calum heads back to the front with the group, laughing at Michael’s utter disgust at the way the last few throws went, he does look for Freya. A girl with red hair is sitting at the desk instead. And though a little bit of disappoints settles into his stomach because he wanted to tell her how well her advice worked, he finds himself resolved and it wouldn’t be broken.

******

Calum told himself whatever Freya had to say during this talk wouldn’t break him. Hell, if he were honest, he didn’t think it would go like this. “You know, I used to say I was no good for people all the time,” Calum laughs. He sniffs hard and wipes his noses on the back of his nose. “It was a clean get-away line.”

“I’m not giving you a get-away line. I’m giving you the truth,” Freya returns.

“No, I’m-I’m not saying you’re giving me bullshit. You’re setting a boundary and a good one at that. I respect it. I’m just saying the irony. The same thing I used to tell others is coming back my way.”

“Karma’s a bitch.”

“I don’t regret it.” Calum shakes his head, not because he’s lying. But to emphasize his point.

*****

Calum doesn’t regret going to the Yelp, Facebook, or Instagram page of the business to see if she had liked it or appeared anywhere on their social media. And luck would have it, he manages to find her. The owners like to show off their employees. Their preferred form of employee appreciation appears, in Calum’s investigation, to be a quick bio of new employees along with a video of them throwing. He nearly misses Freya’s post because of his quick scrolls. The bottom of the page comes up quicker than the app could handle and just as the new page loads that he notices it. The thick twists and black lipstick sitting on her cool dark brown skin.

He doesn’t regret it when he followed the account that was tagged, or the message he sent her from his finsta, or the messages they exchanged for a few days. And he for damn sure can’t find himself to regret it when he came back to the place a couple of weeks later to see if Freya was working.

There’s no regret when she smiles at him and laughs. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to test your theory yet again. It worked last time. But I want to make sure that it wasn’t beginner’s luck.”

“You doubt me. You dare doubt me? I’m offended.”

Calum laughs briefly as he leans into the counter of the front desk. “It’s more like I’m testing a theory. Making sure the results can be recreated.”

“Oh, I promise you my results are valid.” She reaches out for his ID and every so gently their fingers brush. Calum can’t tell if that’s intentional or not, but it doesn’t the slight shiver that runs down his spine. “So just you today, huh?” Freya continues on, grabbing a clipboard, some forms, and a pen.

“Just me.”

“Rest of your friends scared.” Her gaze falls to the stack she’s gathering, checking something off on the top page and then sliding the ID back to Calum.

“They’d probably laugh at me if they knew I was here.”

“Laugh at you?”

“Tell me--why do you think I’m here?”

A moment passes between them. Though it takes up more like several seconds, time feels froze as Freya studies his face. Calum wants to reach up and readjust his hat out of a nervous habit. He wants to take it back. But more than anything, he wants to know if he has a shot. If it’s worth really pursuing.

“I think you’re here to test a theory. Maybe, just maybe you’re here because of Vanessa too,” she smiles as it says. Like she knows that isn’t the truth but she doesn’t want to give into Calum.

And while it’s not the answer he was hoping for, Calum takes it. She wants to play a game and he can be down for that.

*****

She wants to reach out for his hands. They sit next to each other in the lounge chairs Calum keeps lined around his pool. But Freya thinks twice about it. The bulbs dangle above them casting an amber hue onto the water, a stark contrast to the twilight pressing evening closer to night’s full darkness. Freya does regret it. She regrets not leaving her teasing response just to testing a theory. She knew what Calum was fishing for, what he was hoping to confirm when he came back by himself.

Maybe it was just where she was then. Then she thought she could give more. Now she realizes she can’t. She likes it when she’s dating someone and they can decide on a random Sunday for errand runs. She likes having them around. And not that Calum wouldn’t be around. Tours didn’t happen all the time. But they did run long. And who the hell knows where she’d be in eight months after she graduated. Her life wasn’t stable--she wasn’t tied to the West Coast like Calum was.

Her life was full of variables. Ones that she didn’t really plan on trying to solve until closer to Christmas in the spring right before graduation. And she didn’t want to give Calum any more false hope. It wasn’t set in stone that she’d be staying in LA and it wasn’t set in stone that she could handle the long departures. Calum deserved someone that was more sure of themselves.

“I think having regrets is no good anyway,” Freya says, finally breaking the long silence between them. “Having them doesn’t change what happened anyway.” But that doesn’t change the fact that you still regret this, Freya thinks to herself.

“I used to believe love could overcome any obstacle.”

Freya turns to look to Calum and catches thhe way the stubble on his chin from the few weeks he’s gone without shaving halos just a little in the lights. “Used to? The right person, the right love--”

Calum shakes his head. “Now I think people loving me means that they love themselves and they can tell me what they want or need. No guessing. No games.”

“Still sounds a lot of a hell lot like overcoming obstacles.”

“But it’s not a dream. It’s tangible. It’s not me daydreaming up in the clouds. It’s me--right here. Right now. Knowing seeing what it means more than anything else that all the shit I was thinking of as a kid really needed just to be put on the ground level for me.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“I mean as much as it fucking sucks that you’re telling me no, I know you’re doing it for the right reasons. I-there’s like this thing with me. I watch people. I don’t walk into a room of strangers and become the center of attention. I don’t like people all that much, but I care. You know? I care about the people I put into my life and I want them to do well and succeed. I want what’s best for them. It’s not always easy to want that, but innately, I do, I think. Deep down I want what’s good for people. And maybe love is doing the hard things, you know.”

He pauses. Freya watches the way he drops his head, fingers threading through the curls. She keeps quiet. There’s something more, something deeper to the words. “And you’re doing the hard thing. Whether it’s for me or not is debatable,” Calum continues. “But I think love is doing the hard things.”

“You said that having some space was important to you. And while I understand that, like you do need to be your own person in a relationship--”

“Your reasons or how you want to justify it to yourself for me isn’t something I need. You already said that you know what you expect and like out a relationship and that the touring would be too hard for you. Set boundaries for you. What good does it do to justify it to me?”

“So you know I’m not being an asshole, Calum. For fuck sake.”

“No, no, I-shit. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant--who are boundaries really for? What do they do?”

“I guess they do protect the person making them. But I’m not trying to be an asshole to you. I swear.”

Calum looks up from the cement of his background lining the pool to the glossy sheen coating Freya’s eyes. They’re black in the settling night. But Calum knows they’re more like a medium brown--dark enough to get lost in them, but when they catch the light just right, they can feel like an enchanting spell sucking him in.

“Freya, you are a sarcastic son of a bitch. But an asshole to those that don’t deserve it, never.”

She sucks on her teeth, swatting at his bicep. “Take that back.”

Calum leans onto his left elbow, closing the gap between them just a little. A smile lifts his lips gently. “Never.”

“We’ve both been burned. Is it bad I didn’t want that again?”

“No. I used to say love is a scam. So I don’t think I’m necessarily the poster boy for relationships.”

“But admit it, you hoped this was the one so you wouldn’t be the odd man out.” His brows furrow at her comment. Freya gives him a soft smile. “Two of the guys are engaged. But all three of them are in a relationship.”

He sighs, gazing dropping from her face. “Maybe I was hoping so. Is it bad of me to want to be in love?”

“No. I told some kids that my boyfriend was Shermar Moore,” Freya admits with a laugh. “I was working at a summer camp and one girl saw his picture on my phone. It was my lockscreen for the longest time. So I just went with it. Well, I was spurred in part because of Drew who was a fucking creep and wouldn’t leave me alone. But I did fantasize about it. Dream of being in love with some famous and the limelight. Shit at that point, I hadn’t even dated anyone either. So another part of it was a desire too.”

“Is that part of it too? Worried about what trolls and whatever will say?”

“Oh, no one who doesn’t know shit about it can make me get outside myself.” Freya laughs but reclines into the cushions of the chair. “But maybe it’s a little bit of it. That’s too many voices talking all about you. It’s a lot of noise and some of it has to bleed through you know. Even if you’re careful and you work not to take it in, some does, right?”

“I don’t think humans were created to be able to handle that much criticism or even love and adoration. Our brains can’t handle it. So yeah, a little bit seeps in. But you keep that door closed as much as you can. You talk to people that also get it. Fuck, you even get a therapist.”

“Or a dog,” Freya says before turning her head to watch Duke laying inside next to the back door.

“And a dog,” Calum corrects.

“Excuse me, you get a therapist and a dog.”

“Tell me something.”

“I’m listening,” Freya returns, looking back to Calum.

“Before you go tonight, tell me the thing you’re going to cherish between us.”

“Will you do the same?” Calum nods at the question but doesn’t respond verbally as he gazes at her.

“Do you want to answer now?”

“Are you leaving now?”

“I-I didn’t think you wanted me to stay.”

“I want you to stay as long as you feel comfortable. And then when you leave, the parting thing we have is the good, the best of us.”

“What if I stay until dawn?”

“Then you stay until dawn. Though, I think it’s safe to say both of us will pass out by 3 AM.”

“That was the most ridiculous thing I think I’ve ever done,” Freya laughs. Remembering the same she spent a Friday night after a shift at Calum’s place. He had a birthday party on Saturday along with a vet appointment with Duke. And then Sunday, Freya had we weekly lunch with her friends that she couldn’t miss. So Calum asked her if she wanted dinner Friday night at his place. Which she said yes to, but then it turned into them doing a movie marathon. Which then turned into Calum betting her that he could stay up longer than her. But they ultimately passed out around 3 in the morning on Calum’s couch.

“Thankfully, I did not miss Duke’s vet appointment that time,” Calum tacks on.

“Yeah, no thanks to me waking you up half an hour before it.”

“That darlin’ is what I call details.”

“No, I call that a very important fact,” Freya defends sitting up. “Duke would’ve been late twice if not for me.”

Calum giggles at her incredulous look. She always got heated fast, though she knew when it was serious things and when it wasn’t. “It wasn’t him paying for the visit.”

“So you ought to kiss the ground I’m standing on right now because you didn’t have to pay anything like a cancellation fee.”

“You’re not standing on any ground right-” the sentence doesn’t get the wind to complete itself when Calum watches her stand up. “Or maybe you are standing up.”

Freya hears him, but she gazes up to the sky. Trying to look past the twinkle of his backyard lights. There’s not much to see due to the light pollution. But the sounds capture her attention next. His neighborhood’s almost been mostly quiet. But with the twinge of the summer’s heat fading, Freya can hear the last bit of people outside. A dog barks into the night and there’s the crunch only tires on gravel and asphalt can give. There’s a hum in the night that Freya can feel in her bones.

It’s hard not to fall in love with the sounds of the night. It’s hard not to romanticize this, how possibly if things were different she could find herself at some point always standing in the middle of this backyard listening to the sounds of the night, having Calum beside her or maybe Duke when he’s gone and just letting herself go to the buzz. In all honesty, Freya craved stability. Always having something to come back was her dream. But in that dream it was a partner who would be there for every dinner. A shared space that was full with both of their presences.

“When you think about coming home what’s there?” Freya asks. “Like, in ten years, what’s in your home when you walk inside?”

Calum closes his eyes, bringing the picture to his mind’s eye. “Like, the truth of what I see?”

“The truth,” Freya confirms.

“Two kids, a dog for sure. Maybe two. A wife. A lot of laughs. Being knocked over with hugs. Maybe a movie that hasn’t quite been paused catches my ears. Maybe it’s summer and my mum’s over too. Because she wants to be around the kids as much as possible. And my sister--she comes over when she can too. So we have to figure out what to cook because it’s a family dinner night. I’m mostly likely in Australia. But I could be somewhere else. Just not LA. I don’t think I could have kids here.”

“That sounds lovely, Calum.”

“But I am scared. My parents divorced. What if it doesn’t work out?”

“That wasn’t your fault. And if we heal from our trauma before having kids then maybe some of our fears won’t come to reality.”

“And if it does.”

“Then we know the boogeyman is real and sometimes we can do our best but things that are meant to happen will still happen.”

“Your parents are divorced too, right?” Calum remembers her mentioning a distinction between her mother’s house and her father’s house. But she hadn’t outright stated that her parents were divorced, just alluded to it.

“Yeah. My dad remarried. He seems happy.”

“What about you? If you closed your eyes and thought about yourself in 10 years, where are you?”

“I technically asked what do you see in your home when you walk inside 10 years from now.”

“Oh, come off it,” Calum laughs, throwing a dismissive wave her way.

“But,” she giggles and then closes her eyes. The breeze blows across her face and she lifts her chin up to catch as much of it as she can. Then she speaks, “I don’t know. Home’s full of the people I love. And I feel stable. I’m not worried about what I’m going to do weeks from now when something inevitably has to change. Because nothing’s going to change. Or at least, I’m not anticipating change. I think that’s what I’m sick of. I’m sick of dealing with change and constantly moving around and not knowing what the next year is going to look like. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder and planning. I just want to be still.”

“You did the whole back and forth between houses, huh?”

“Yeah. I always felt like I was playing two versions of myself when I was younger. I had to be one way around my mother and one way around my father and according to my therapist, the constant games of charade fucked me up a little.”

“How often did you go between their houses?”

“Every weekend.”

Calum sucks in air through his teeth, “Yikes. Yeah, no wonder you want stability.”

“Oh, thank you Dr. Hood. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Well this is a question so it’s not something you don’t know, but is the thought of me being gone for months at a time remind you of that? Like, you’d have to be one way while I was here and then another way when I was gone?”

Freya shrugs. But it’s right on the nose. “I’d have to learn to be with you and then be without you. And all I have are switches. No dimmers. I’m either on or I’m off. And I-I’m working on it. But I’ve got a long way to go.”

Calum scoffs, whispering mostly to himself. “All I have are switches. No dimmers.” It’s not a taunt to her. It’s not him blowing her concern off. It’s recognition that colors his tone. It’s the sigh when hearing something that connects so deeply it takes all the oxygen from lungs with it.

“And I swear to Christ, Calum, if you make a Lowe’s or Home Depot joke, I will extract your ankles from you right here right now.”

“Extract? What the hell?” Calum laughs.

“Broken ankles heal,” Freya returns with a smirk. Her face is lit mostly from above due to continued standing position but Calum catches the way her lips move.

“Remind me to really never piss you off. Between your ability to throw axes and the time you told me about putting ham on a girl’s car, I don’t think I want that kind of trouble in my life.”

“I only put the ham on the car because my friend was heartbroken and she was a cunt for cheating.”

“Yeah, see that’s what I mean,” Calum points out, his index finger swirling in a circle in front of her.

“I could’ve slashed her tires too.”

“I think ruining her paint job was more than enough.”

Freya places her hands on her hips, looking down at Calum. “I’ve got some anger issues too. Did I mention that?”

They laugh but Calum recovers first to speak. “I hadn’t noticed it before. Thank you for telling me that. But in all seriousness, Freya, the boundaries you have make sense. I hope you continue with therapy as well,” he states with a giggle. “But it’s not easy to look back at yourself and realize ‘Oh shit, maybe I don’t want that thing again because that actually fucking hurt’. And do something about it. That takes a lot of strength.”

“Thanks, Calum. And I will continue with this therapist for the rest of the school year because it’s free. Shoutout to some universities for having really accessible mental health resources.”

Freya finally sits, facing Calum. He keeps his gaze averted. But it doesn’t bother her. “What’s the intention behind telling me I can stay as long as I want? Is it to get me to change my mind? Just earlier both of us were near tears and now we’re walking down memory lane. Sharing things we hadn’t shared yet.”

“I want as much of you as I can get before you’re gone. Selfish, right?” The tears are back, she can hear them in his voice.

“No. A bit of your masochism showing, certainly.”

“You ever know something’s bad for you, but you want it anyway? You want the pain anyway?”

“I mean considering both of us are littered tattoos, pain’s not something we’re too worried about.”

Calum wishes he didn’t laugh, not even the short burst of laughter. “Someone’s coping with humor.”

“Someone’s self flagellating.”

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want you to go. But I don’t want you to hurt yourself either.”

“Maybe love is doing the hard things. You said that yourself.”

Calum swallows hard and his voice only comes out in a whisper. “I know I did.”

Freya blinks away the blur of tears. But as soon as they clear, more replace them. Her voice is tight as she speaks. “Doing the hard things suck though. Don’t think this is easy.”

“It’s because it’s the hard thing,” Calum returns. He wants to smile and manages to get a small one but he knows. Freya’s going to leave. She won’t stay.

“My favorite thing,” she starts and Calum exhales hard. There it is--the confirmation. The sentence gets caught in her throat so she pauses to clear it, work the tears down to at least speak. God, why couldn’t it have been easy. “My favorite thing between us, about us, whatever you want to label it as, is that we could also be honest. And even if it was burning waffles or ducking paps to watch a movie for an anime that you had no idea anything about because I wanted to go desperately and you had to Google a summary during the previews, we were always honest with each other.”

“I want to put it out there that you only told me that it was for an anime as I was buying the tickets. So I had zero time to prepare beforehand.”

“I told you the name of it the Monday before we saw it.”

“And admittedly, I forget it the second after you said it.”

“Fair enough, Calum. Fair enough.”

Calum spins in the chair and takes her hand. The first time they’ve touched today. Normally, Freya was more than happy to give out hugs but when Calum opened the front door, she have a half smile and stepped inside. If he could go back to earlier, he’d tell himself that was the first sign.

His thumb passes gently over the butterfly on her left hand. “The thing I’m going to cherish is that you made me feel sixteen again. My entire life changed at sixteen and I felt pretty invincible. I was also scared and excited. I was going to be in a band, like a one with lots of records and I don’t know--I only had that dream to believe in because I damn sure did not have a back up. It was before the downs. And I don’t regret the hard times either. But you’re the first person in a long time that gave me those butterflies. Assumed I was just never going to feel them again and I wasn’t a good person before, not as good as I could’ve been. But you gave me something to be good for again. Getting your text made my whole fucking day. And you-god, you cared about so many things. I bought books you recommended and couldn’t wait to talk about them with you. I remembered the kind of person I want to be. So thank you. For making me feel sixteen again in the cheesiest way possible but also in the best way possible too. That things are worth giving a shit for and that we can let people in and it won’t always burn.”

“Just a little sting.”

Calum nods. “Just a little sting.”

Freya brings his hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the right one. Her sniffle is loud amongst the hum of the night. “If it weren’t for the fact that my eyeliner is tattooed to my face it would probably be running. I’m sorry it has to hurt at all. But-but I’m hopeful.”

“Hopeful?”

“Hopeful that we’ll get what we need out of life.”

He nods again, watching the tears track down her cheek. “We will.”

Her hands gently slip back out of his grasp and she uses the back of her wrist to press under her nose. The tremors shake her hands, so she shakes them before standing. Calum cranes his neck up, words about to fall from his lips. But she cups his cheek and smiles at him. “Don’t. There’s nothing else to say.”

It happens just as he blinks. He sighs, eyes closing to steel himself. Because there’s always so much else to say. And then her lips are pressing to his forehead. It last long enough for Calum to take hold of her thighs instinctively want to pull her in closer to him.

Then she’s gone. His hand slides down the rough denim and Freya’s walking to the edge of the backdoor. Duke picks up his head but doesn’t move much else. “Oh yeah, you don’t need to move. You know everyone comes to you, huh?” She gives him a few pats and scratches. “I’ll send you something for your adoption day, okay, love? And you might hate wearing it or you might love eating it. But be on the lookout for the mailman. He’ll have something from me.”

Calum doesn’t say anything as she says her goodbyes to Duke. She kisses the top of his head too and he thinks she might’ve whispered something else but he’s not certain from his spot on the chair. The swish of the tassels on Freya’s jeans signal her and the click of her heeled boots tell Calum she’s walking farther from him. The latch in the fence clicks and the wood around the hinges creak as she presses into the door. There’s a soft thud as the door shuts and then Calum can’t hear anything over the cough he uses to try and cover the tightness in his chest, can’t see anything in the blurry vision of his tears

She’s just gone.

******

When the front door bell sounds, Calum doesn’t think much of it. It could be a package or someone selling something. So he pushes up from the kitchen table and heads to the door. There on his porch is a light blue box with white bones on it. The subscription box that Calum gets already came. But then he notices an index card with a handwritten address on it. He picks it up. Right there in the return address is Freya’s name. He sucks in a breath and then looks to see who it’s addressed to: Duke Hood + Calum.

“Duke,” Calum calls out, stepping back inside to the house. He closes the door with his foot. The click of paws let him know the old man’s heard his call. “A little early birthday present has arrived just for you.”

He walks deeper into the living room and sets the box on the coffee table. Inside holds an olive green harness, treats, and a card. Calum laughs as Duke presses his snout against the bag of treats. “Alright, alright. I get it.”

Duke happily munches on one of the chews from the bag and Calum opens the card. A different letter slips out into his lap. He can see the ink and lettering pressing through to the other side. His heart hammers, but he forces himself to turn back to the card. “Dear Duke,” Calum pauses to see if Duke responds but his investigation continues on the treat. “I mean, fair enough.” Calum continues to read the card written by Freya, “Even though only the universe knows your true birthday, this card, harness, and bag of treats is meant to mark you sticking it out with your pops for yet another year. To spare you the grumps about a very cute hawaiin shirt I, instead, got a badass harness. Now you’ll be the coolest guy on the block. Happy Birthday/Adoption Day. With Love, Fre.”

Duke, done with the treat, looks to Calum and settles next in front of his folded legs. “Oh, so much work eating a treat.”

But Calum reaches down to gently pats at his tummy. The front of the car is cute, Calum finally recognizes. A cartoon white dog is drawn on it with large pink glasses against a yellow background. There’s no telling where she found it at. Calum looks down to the handwritten letter on printer paper. What would Freya possibly have to say?

Calum hadn’t had the guts to press send on any of the texts he drafted in the three months since they last talked. He wasn’t sure if he could. He is sure that if Freya hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, she would’ve said so, and she wouln’t have sent this box for Duke. His fingers tremble as he unfolds the letter.

Calum,

I figured you heard me tell Duke he was going to get a gift. And I knew I couldn’t not deliver on my promise to him. But I do apologize if it crosses any line. Please let me know too--if it crossed any boundaries.

I hope you’re well. Congrats on the latest album too.

With Love,

Freya.

P.S. I saw you a couple times drafting a text to me but never seeing one go through. And if you’re asking why I hadn’t sent a text either, know it was fear too. And me not being sure if keeping it open like that between us would only do more harm than good. So I’m sorry. But I am here, in the sense that to the best of my capacities, I can try to be here.

*****

Her bag’s slipping off her shoulders but she finally gets the key into the lock and gets her front door open. She sighs as she falls into the ugly blue apartment door and all but flings herself into her place. The stack of mail in her hands barely makes it to the edge of the kitchen counter too. It was just one of those days and Freya couldn’t be mad at herself. Everyone had days like this.

Putting her keys up and getting her backpack next to the couch, she settles into the stools at the kitchen counter to sort through the mail. One’s a bill from the dentist she visited a few weeks back. The one thing her student health insurance didn’t cover. But she couldn’t complain.

There are few junk flyers that she immediately tosses. And it’s her name scrawled in a almost all caps that catches her eyes before she even gets finished with the rest of the pile. In the top corner for the return address she catches the name: Calum Hood + Duke

“Mail from Duke, what a surprise.”

But the real surprise is Calum’s name. It’s just a plain white envelope with a stamp and the city mark it was mailed from. Freya pops it open and sees a sheet of legal pad paper folded up.

Freya,

Thank you for Duke’s gift. The chews are a hit. The harness is much appreciated for our walks. Though, I think they’re more like walks for me. And Duke gets a little exercise in before he tuckers out. But I don’t fault him. No lines were crossed. So no need to worry about that.

I think I like the idea of mailing letters more than I do like texting. But I understand. Doing the hard thing sucks. It always has and always will. Do what you need to for yourself.

Thank you. I wouldn’t normally do this. But there’s a couple songs--they’re about you. I wanted to give you a warning before you listen to it. If you listen to it, I guess I should say.

Best of luck with your last year of school. You’ll have that Master’s in no time and then maybe soon you can take over the Library of Congress like all your evil plans have laid out. (I know, I know. Not what your Library Studies degree does. But I still think you should.)

With Love,

Cal

Freya chuckles at the Library of Congress comment. She picks up her phone and finds Calum’s thread. It’s easy to want to tell him that she can’t take over the Library of Congress and that she’s glad the treats went over well and that the harness was really more of an accessory to make sure Duke looks like a badass.

But she knows--she knows the ease got her into a pickle before. It’s why she stopped things before they got more serious. But was fear going to always predict what she was going to do in her life? Maybe the ease of things was a sign to continue. But if what if things got too far? WOuld be able to handle Calum being gone? Would she inevitably get her heart broken? And sure no amount of contemplation can predict things like this, but she did want to play with that risk no matter how fucking easy it was in the moment.

With a frustrated sigh, Freya drops her face into the forearms. Her phone is still in her grip with the movement. “It’s never fucking easy is it!” she shouts into her apartment.

There’s silence that engulfs her and then her phone chimes. She doesn’t halfway pay attention to it but her phone almost never makes a sound because she keeps it on vibrate. “Who knows what I’ve done now?” she mutters but doesn’t look. Whatever it was she should explain it away for sure. “Why wasn’t there a guarantee money back or some shit with love? It would make life a hell of lot easier for fuck sake. I mean the reward was a lot bigger if I did decide to date Calum. But the fucking risk. Where’s a genie or some fortune teller when you needed it?”

With the frustration dissipating with every shout, she finally lifts her hand and looks to see what caused the noise. Her fingers slip across the screen and she watches a message lift up before settling down with the delivered underneath it. “Whoops,” she mutters. And starts drafting a message in response. Sorry, didn’t mean to send that. Was just venting and must’ve hit something in my blind rage.

She sets the phone down without another thought and then goes back to sorting out her mail, though she glances down at the yellow page that Calum wrote his letter. She’d all her best friend in a bit to talk it out with them. A buzz sound--no doubt some sort of alert. She listens for how many buzzes. A text coming through.

Turning over her phone, Freya reads who the text is from. The name barely registers before her heart goes into a frenzy. Calum--New iMessage. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, why is he texting me?”

A warranty on love is definitely a new concept. I assume you got my letter. You made it clear that you still weren’t sure where the boundaries were, I just wanted to say thanks. Or Duke did, I should say. You said you cherished our honesty and I’m going to be honest. I wrote a lot of different letters before sending the one I did. I’ve drafted a text to you nearly every day but never sent it because I didn’t want to put you in a predicament. But maybe we’re both at a point where maybe the risk might not be all that bad.

Freya exhales reading the text. How do you feel about splitting a pizza at my place tonight?

The message lifts and then settles again. The moments stretch for minutes. The bubble pops up and she watches the dots cycle from light to dark gray. I would love to.

Her hands shake and for a moment she wishes she hadn’t quit cigarettes. They weren’t good for her and she knows that. But god, right now with the shakes, she needs something to bring her down from the edge. The picks at her pinkie nail, leg bouncing. A knock at the door sounds and Freya freezes. The pizza’s already delivered, arrived maybe two or three minutes before this knock.

Another moment, maybe two passes, and then another knock sounds. She pushes up from the couch and heads to the door.

“Hi,” Calum exhales.

“Hi,” Freya returns. “Oh, come-come in.” She steps aside and waves Calum further inside.

As he steps through, he turns, keeping his back away from her. The door closes and he unveils a tiny pot, a greenish-purple plant staring back up at Freya. “I know you’re sensitive to flowering plants--like sunflowers or carnations. So I went to a local nursery, one that my gardeners recommended and one of the workers recommended succulents. They told me the name and I have absolutely no memory of what it is. Echev-I don’t know.”

Freya steps closer, gingerly taking the terracotta pot from him. It sits in the palm of her hand. “Echeveria. I think this one is a Black Prince.”

“Yeah, yeah, that.”

“Thank you.” It falls from her lips in a whisper. “Really, I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“It shall live,” she says after a big exhale, “right here on the kitchen window sill.”

Calum grins a little watching her open the blinds to set the plant in. “How-how have you been?” He knows he came under the guise of pizza. But that’s not even close to the truth. So he closes the distance between them, crossing the kitchen. One hand settles on her hip.

Freya turns in the inch or two she has. His gaze is sincere but hesitant. Like there’s more he wants to say, but not sure if he can say it right now. His cheek is a little stubbly when she touches it, settles her palm into the warmth and squish of his face. She hadn’t expected seeing him in person would stir her gut like this. Maybe it’s because she was only giving excuses. Good ones, but still excuses. “Tell me something.”

“Anything.”

“When I asked you about what you say in your home 10 years into the future and you said wife, did you see me?”

It doesn’t shock him that she sussed it out. That even with his vague include of the term, Freya would still see between the lines. “Honestly?”

“I’m making you an honest man.”

“Yes.” He closes his eyes for a moment. Not out of shame or some need to hide from the truth. But to steel himself. “When I said wife, I pictured you. And two kids--who in my imagination definitely had your hair texture and that scared me.”

“Scared you?” Freya asks.

“I barely can do my own curls. Two daughters with your texture would feel like jumping into the deep end without a floaty.”

“But you, theoretically, wouldn’t have been in the deep end alone. Me, my hairstylist, my mom, and stepmom--a lot of Black women to teach you a thing or two. But specifically two daughters, huh?”

Calum nods, his second hand sliding up onto her right hip. He holds her waist and she holds onto his cheeks ever so gently. He smiles at her. “That’s not to say I didn’t ask to try for a son as a third. Now you tell me something.”

“Scouts honor.”

“Can you really give into the risk? If you can’t, I will walk out of here right now and I won’t bother you again. Because above everything, I want what’s best for you. As much as it’ll hurt not have you again, we can’t keep going back and forth. It’s not good for either one of us.”

Freya knows he’s right. Would she regret giving Calum up a second time? Was the universe trying to give her the ever elusive second chance? Getting into a defined relationship with Calum meant she would have to figure out what to do after graduation and if had to leave would he be able to handle that? Was the chance of heartbreak worth the moments of bliss?

“I want my PhD--and I don’t know where that’s going to take me. I might be leaving California and that would be years, Calum. Years of me in a different state. And I don’t know, California doesn't feel like the end game for me. And that could just be the now talking. Who knows? But a lot is in motion and uncertain right now, does that change how you feel? Because maybe--maybe I can take the risk for a few moments of bliss.”

Calum’s knees almost give up on him, but he squeezes her to keep himself steady. “When I said I wanted as much of you as I could have before you left, I meant it. I absolutely meant every word of it. I meant I would take days, hours, decades if I could with you.The last time I even thought about daydreaming about a girl was so fucking long ago. And when you asked me about my future, it shocked even me to see you. That’s when I knew. I knew I was a fucking goner.”

“But I don’t know if I can give all that to you.”

“I’ll take what I can get it, Freya. And I am sure that in the future one of two things is going to happen: it will either hurt like hell when you leave or we get more time. I don’t know how much more. But I do know that those are the two options. And I will gladly embrace whichever one of them comes our way.”

Freya doesn't miss the inclusion of the plural. “Our way,” she teases with a grin, stretching up just a little. “Our way, huh?”

“Yes, our way.” Calum watches just how close she gets before she pauses. Her breath tickles over his skin. “Now, either we’re kissing and then eating pizza, or we’re kissing and then--”

Freya’s lip sealing around his cuts off the sentence. They exhale into each other, Calum pressing in closer and pinning her to the edge of the counter. Freya slides up against his chest just a hair, hands sliding up and then tying her arms around his neck. As they part, Calum rests his forehead against hers. “What’s tomorrow?”

“Thursday. Why do you ask?”

“Because I wanted to gauge if I could keep you up until 3 AM again,” Calum giggles. “But not about a competition this time. Like possibly pissing off your neighbors.”

“But I have the 8 am shift at the office.”

“And homework that you’d kill me for keeping you from.”

“Not quite murder, but there is a paper I have about 5 pages left on and should submit because it is like a third of my grade.”

“But Friday night?”

“I’m free--I traded a Monday evening shift earlier this week to get Friday off.”

Calum kisses her, soft and slow. It makes his whole body electric, to feel her relax into his touch. “Friday night then.”

“Before a night of debauchery, do you think we should talk? What happens if it’s too much or not working?” Freya doesn’t want to be the barrier of bad news. But she does like having a plan, a clear path to follow.

Calum’s not way to think too hard about things, to worry about things until they come up. But he knows Freya’s not like him. Clearing his throat, Calum holds up his pinkie. “This a pinkie swear that on Friday when you come over to my place for a night of debauchery, we will talk all about contingency plans.”

“You make it sound--”

“No, I know. You want the air clear and you want it clear sooner rather than later. And though, I normally am very much against a lot of the feelings talk. But for fuck sake, I already admitted that I thought about marrying you, so I don’t think now is the moment to shy away from it.”

“When you put it like that.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Freya hooks her pinkie around his. “But it is Wednesday. So, pizza and then if you want to stay after you can, I’ll just be working on that paper.”

“If you don’t mind the company, I would love to stay.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

[jay-and-dean]

Black Hole

Dean x Reader

Summary : She saved his life, and since then, she doesn’t want to live anymore... That doesn’t make sense...

Warnings : ANGST, like massive angst, mourning, mention of depression, thoughts about suicide and if miscarriage is a big issue for you, avoid this fic. Blood and hurt!Dean, hurt!Reader. SMUT, unprotected sex (you’re smarter than this). Fluff. 

Words : 9.3k

Note :  This is written is both Sam’s Pov and Reader’s Pov. Dream/flashbacks in italics. Hope you like this one, it was a lot of work <3

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

______________________

Sam's Pov, Thursday

           What fucking happened down there...

           Hearing the calls in the nurse’s office just next door I sigh. The white lights of the hospital corridor burn my exhausted eyes. People come and go, passing by me with sad, kind looks.

           It's weird place, a hospital, especially in intensive care. Everyone standing here is either losing someone they love, has just lost them, or is hoping, praying, not to. They try to hold on to usual things, like buying a coffee from the vending machine, telling the person with them they miss a few coins, but they will give it back...

They will give it back...

Like anything like that mattered when the doctor can show up any moment, to tell you that you lost your wife, dad, kid... brother.

           Most of the time, they are not alone, and a sad smile appears on my face at the affection everywhere. Those friends there, they are hugging every five minutes, like the heat of each other's body could keep them safe, like puppies.

But I am…

Alone.

And I'm not losing someone, I'm losing two. The two most important people in my life, the only people that could actually warm me with their hugs.

           My brother, and the woman that I call my best friend, but that became like a sister to me, like a mother too when she watches what I eat or checks on the least tiny cuts I have twice a day. A tender smile appears on my face thinking of her protective tone.

           Of course, unlike those families around me, Death is one of my oldest friends. But if I lose them both. Really nothing is left.

             We were investigating a case, like we always do, a simple, missing person case. Nothing frightening for us, nothing worse than what we often had. We were having fun and I could even say that we were all pretty happy.

           Difficult to say for sure, because Y/n never talks about her feelings, hiding them to the world like she was afraid someone could use it to break her, or like she was ashamed.So, either she’s on the verge of tears -that never fall anyway- or dancing, she’s always just says she’s “Okay”.

           But she was annoying Dean all the way to Arizona, singing her songs loud in the car, living the lyrics with her whole body, kneeling on the seat to sing in my grunting brother’s ear, opening the windows to let half her body out of the car, her arms like hugging the rays of sunshine, putting her feet on the dashboard to feel the sun on her legs, making fun of me for trying to read about the case instead of relaxing... And it really looked like happiness to me.

           And Dean, the annoyed frown he tries to keep on his face when she’s doing all she can to make him crazy couldn’t last more than a few seconds, he was smiling. Smiling with his radiant hopeful smile. The one he had lost, the one she made come back. She has that effect on him, on us. Like we had been missing an annoying little sister to be finally happy...

             Then Y/n disappeared. How could that happen ? Dean and I looked for her under every rock, desperate and fighting each other, our fragile bubble of joy blowing up just like that.

           We couldn't sleep and Dean blamed himself and me.

           Then... he disappeared too.

           Probably one of the longest nights of my life, like the night after my brother went to Hell, like the night after Jess's death.

           They were found the day after in an alley of Phoenix, half dead from totally different wounds.

           She was holding him tight, bathing in his blood, covering his body with hers and his face with one hand. Probably to protect him from the burning sun, the docs told me...

           Her other hand was on his gun wound, like she had been pressing on it. She clearly did all she could to save him. But he was in aseptic shock...

           She has lost so much blood, the doctor said it's impossible that she could have stand, she was severely dehydrated and had anemia... Yet, she's the one that dragged them out of the building.

           My phone rings, waking me from my daydream.

"Agent Bonham ?" the police officer says on the phone.

"Yes."

"I have the videos from inside of the basement. It's pretty weird, I'll send it to you. That colleague of yours, she's a real wolf ! I hope she wakes up..."

"Thank you agent" I state, hanging up.

           Still no news from Cas...

           I grab my laptop and headphones. Tell me what happened there...

 Reader's Pov, another time.

             My eyes roam the library. When I finally find him, a wide smile automatically appears on my face. He smiles back. This wrinkled radiant smile that always makes my enamored heart melt.

           Walking his way to me, he keeps staring right at my face and I bite my lip. The second he reaches me, his arms are around me.

"I missed you" he says.

"In only half an hour ?"

"You know I did."

His lips find my cheek, and linger here like they do when they can't reach their favorite places, because we're in public.

"You two are so cute, it's almost disgusting" Donna laughs and I can feel Dean's lips turning to a smile against my skin.

"We're adorable" he hums.

           My pride is radiating of me, I know that, I also know I should let go of him from time to time, but I don't care what people think. I have no idea how I could be so lucky, I don't even remember how I got there, how he fell in love with me after all those years ; but I stopped caring about that a long time ago.

I look up to see his face. One year soon. It will be one year that my life is in order.

My Dean is mine, he said forever.

"What do you say, we find a more private place ?" he whispers.

"More private ? this is our home baby... More private than our secret bunker ?" I chuckle slipping the back of my index under his shirt like I often do, just to feel the very soft skin of his waist.

"Yeah like our bedroom..."

"Our friends came across the country to see us" I whisper, pointing at Garth with my chin.

"Yeah... And they saw us... They won't miss us if we disappear like an hour" he purrs close to my ear, his hips moving closer to make me feel him growing hard through his jeans.

I take a deep inhale, enjoying his smell and the hoarse sound in his voice.

"I guess..." I smile.

 Sam's Pov, Thursday.

             The black and white images show nothing for a few hours, according to the clock on it, so I accelerate them. When Dean appears, he's holding his gun, moving quickly to the next room, the one with no cameras.

           The room where Y/n was kept, a room where they found the DNA of all the missing people, but no lead to the killer.

           Then nothing for about an hour, until the door opens again.

It's her. Barely standing, dragging Dean, already unconscious. She's struggling so hard it's painful to see, falling heavily on the floor, she starts to sob, and I can hear her whines of despair and pain even through the mute video.

           She crawls on him and tries to press on his wound, bending to talk close to his ear. That's when I realize she's trying not to make too much noise. She's so gentle with him, so cautious. She's holding him, putting light kisses on his forehead and saying things. To him ? To herself ? Prayers ?

           Even on the black and white images, I can see how pale she is. Panting and her eyes rolling when she moves too fast.

           She manages to drag him more, to the foot of the iron stairway that leads out, and makes a pause. She takes off her flannel, struggling with every movement she makes, like it was the one move impossible to do. She slips it under him and tie it around him, to slow the bleeding.

           Then she seems to give up. Sitting behind him, she takes his head on her lap and starts to sob, one hand on his cheek, the other on her eyes. Her lips finally form a word I can read : Sorry. Then another one : Dean.

Sorry, Dean... Sorry.

           A tear rolls on my face at her despair, at this incredible battle she's fighting against renouncement. I am so grateful she's so strong.

           After only a few minutes clinging at his shirt on his bloody chest, crying and putting her crackled lips on his forehead and temples, she moves again. She would have given up if she was alone, but leaving Dean... She's just has stubborn as we are.

           She fails getting up three times. And when she manages standing, she starts to drag my almost 200lbs brother on the first step of the stairs...

           It takes two hours before she reaches the door outside of which we found them. Two hours that I have the chance to watch in accelerate... She didn't. She suffered and struggled beyond her own limits...

And now, after giving everything in her to save Dean, she won't wake up.

             I get up and walk to my brother's room. Sitting on the corner with a stupid coffee I got from this stupid vending machine ; I had the change, no one could have given coins to me anyway…

I look at him so pale, under those hose and tubes, dialing Cas number again.

“Cas, please, I don’t know if you got my 21 other messages… I’m just… Dean is… maybe he will live, but Y/n… They say she might not... It’s like she had given up… You don’t hear my prayers… You don’t hear your phone… I… Call me back.”

If they die…

           Suddenly, Dean starts to choke, the tubes in his throat making it impossible to breath. His arms search everywhere in panic, the machines ringing.

“HELP ! HELP !” I call, reaching him.

 Reader’s Pov, another time

             He’s panting, sweaty, his elbow holding his body, his head in his hand. I reach a drop of sweat rolling on his temple and wipe it with a lazy smile.

“You…” his breathing is short. “You know how to cheer me up.”

I bend my neck a little to kiss his chin, happy to see the worry gone from his face.

“Cas didn’t mean it, Dean… You were a little hard on him and… you know he does his best…”

He sighs and kisses my lips, his heavy breathing tickling me from his nose.

“I’m sorry I get so angry” he whispers, his hand finding my breast again, massaging it slowly and bending to put a wet kiss on it.

“I know you by heart… You often confuse hurt and sadness with anger, baby, it’s because you had to be so strong so young…”

“Mh… I’m just a stubborn jerk” he opens his mouth to suck at the delicate skin under my breast, moving to place himself between my legs again. “But you always find a way to make it sound cool” he chuckles, wiggling to spread my thighs with his hips.

“Literally everything is cool about you Dean” I kiss his shoulder and lift my knees, giving him the access he seeks : home.

“I’ll talk to him” he nibbles at my swollen lips. “Mh… We made a mess.”

I smile, my hands trying to rub is sweaty back, but sticking on his skin. He’s half hard again, his soft cock snuggling between my soaked, dripping with cum, folds.

“You want it again Dean ?”

“Little Dean can’t get enough, but if you’re tired of me, I can go take a shower and let you sleep” he murmurs, already biting at my ear, his huge body caging me in that way I love so much.

“I’m never tired of you, Love” I state. “I will never be… I need you baby, come home…”

He pushes in slowly, with more ease than the first two times, but less hunger. He’s not fully hard yet, and he’s in no hurry.

This is not about pleasure like the first time was ; this is not about passion, like the second. This is just about being together.

“Good because I’ll never leave you” he hums, pushing deeper, his powerful hand finding my jaw in a possessive but smooth way.

 Sam’s Pov, Friday

             Dean’s walking painfully, holding to his IV stand because I forbid him to rip it off of him, he needs the ABs, the doctor said ; he needs it or he will die…

“Son of a bitch” he grunts. “Why did they put her so far from my room…”

“Easy Dean…” I try to slow him.

I know he’s worried, terrified even, but what he will find in this room won’t help him. And he doesn’t know yet how much this will hurt.

           He finally enters the room and stops. Here it is, the heartbreak.

“Oh God, Y/n…” he grunts, getting closer to her broken body.

           She’s pale as snow, her lips so white it looks like she was dead. Her body is covered in bruises, her cheeks hollow, her under eyes light purple…

           He gets closer and his shaky hand barely dares touching her face.

“She almost died of exhaustion, of blood loss, and of dehydration and hunger… The mystery is, even with the water and vitamins… She doesn’t come back, like she had given up, her organs are shutting down” I murmur, knowing every word I say is killing him.

“Given up ?” he shakes his head. “She loves life ! Y-you know her Sammy !”

I nod. I had about the same reaction when the docs explained it. And I tried talking to her… But she keeps getting worse and worse...

“What happened Dean ?” I dare now the doctors stopped giving Dean pills to sleep, because of how restless he was.

           He sits on the chair next to her bed in a grunt.

“It’s a Djinn” he sighs. “I found her and… she was tied to this bed, being freaking bled. And before I could reach her, the bastard showed up and… I was ready to fight him but, there was another one, and he used my own gun to shoot me” his eyes search her face, like he had no idea what happened next. “I passed out… If I…”

“You couldn’t know” I try, knowing my brother is listing all the things he could have done different in his head.

 Reader’s Pov, another time

             I get out of the shower and put a towel around me as I can. Taking cream to put it on my hands and face before I walk to my bedroom.

           Entering it, I smile.

           Dean is listening to music, his headphones on his ears, his toes dancing at the top of his crossed feet.

           I close the door behind me and it makes a violent gunshot sound. I jump a little, looking back at the door making such a loud unexpected sound but everything seems right. Maybe my mind is just playing tricks.

           He opens his eyes and smiles, not taking the headphones off yet. So I walk to the end of the bed, putting only one of my knees on it. I let the towel fall.

           His pupils dilate, it always does. And even now, I can feel his love for my body irradiate of him. Just like I can see his love for me when we’re just talking, when I support him, when I make fun of him, even when we’re apart…

           I like that he still wants me so bad when even I struggle to recognize my own body. With those stretch marks on my lower belly, with the light blue veins appearing on my breasts. I put my arms on the side of my body and wait for him to move.

“I did that” he purrs, putting his headphones on the side of his bed, and moving closer.

“You did… And without my consent” I smile when he puts a loving hand on my stomach.

“Nature did things good” he sighs, putting a kiss on my swollen belly. “Because I would have never dared asking, and you never would have agreed.”

“I would have agreed to anything for you, you know that” I smile, my hand in his hair.

“Do you regret it sometimes ?” he frowns, his scruff tickling the side of my baby bump.

“Regret ?” I look down, pulling slightly at his hair to make him look up. “Baby… You wanted to be a father, I would have had regrets hearing that when we are old and you never said it.”

“I thought it couldn’t happen in this life, and you made it pretty clear that kids weren’t your thing” he sighs.

“It can, Dean, it will be complicated, but our little Bean will be loved so much… That’s all that matters, right ?” I smile tenderly. “And carrying your child, my love… It’s just natural to me” he puts his large hands on my lower back and starts massaging it softly. “And…” I chuckle. “Let’s be honest, with all those coming deep inside of me… even with birth control… it was going to happen…”

           Suddenly, a groan that sounds like Dean echoes behind me and I look back with a frown.

“What is it baby ?” he asks, looking where I’m staring.

But nothing seems anormal until I hear another whine, a pained one, and a beg of my name.

“Did you hear that ?” I ask, but my Dean frowns and shrugs.

“What Y/n ?”

“It’s like you were… in pain ?” I say, knowing how weird it sounds.

“I’m really good, maybe you need rest, baby” he assures me, getting up.

But goosebumps appear along my spine. Something is wrong, maybe something supernatural.

“Y/n… Please Sunshine… wake up…” I hear but Dean’s lips are not moving.

“Sunshine ?” I repeat, confused. “I remember that nickname…”

“Baby, are you okay ?” my boyfriend worries.

“You used to call me Sunshine” I state.

“Yes” he nods. “Now I call you baby. Do you miss it ?”

“When did you stop ?” I frown, searching his face.

“I don’t remember, baby” he sincerely answers and something cold hits my skin.

“Me neither…” I search his beautiful face. “I liked this nickname…”

“I can call you that all you want, Sunshine” he says and I frown.

It doesn’t sound right and… Why are my wrists suddenly bruised ?

           I put my hand on my belly in a protective gesture, trying to calm for the sake of the little Winchester treasure growing inside of me…

 Sam’s Pov, saturday

             The doctor keeps explaining how her liver is shutting down for no reason, and I can see the look in Dean’s eyes.

           He’s standing straight. His body strongly holding him, when his soul is clearly crumbling. Cas still didn’t answer and there is now no chance medicine can save her.

           They advised us to say goodbye.

           And once more… How absurd it is ?

Saying goodbye to someone you’re not ready to let go, and when ? In a few minutes ? Hours ? Days ? What if we say goodbye and she lives another week. I’m dizzy, and I have no idea how to be there for my brother, when the world is crashing down around me, I don’t know this kind of hell, this absurd, chaotic hell.

How do people do that ? Say goodbye to people still alive… Loosing someone slowly with the hands in the pockets and that stupid bleach scent mixed with bad coffee.

“I WILL KILL HIM !” Dean yells the second the doctor closes the door to give us some space.

“Dean…” I try but he is clenching his fists so hard his knuckles are white.

“I will find a way… I will…”

“Dean…” I repeat, knowing he could slaughter all Heaven’s angel if it bought her back right now.

“No Sammy, you don’t understand… I… I would sell my soul if it was still an option… I… I need to…” he puts both his hands on each side of his head, struggling to think though panic.

“Don’t say that please” I whisper. “I can’t lose the two of you.”

“Sam, Dean” Cas suddenly appears.

And before I can register his presence, Dean jumps on him.

“She could have DIE !” my brother yells pushing him against the wall violently.

“Dean !” I try to grab him by the shoulder but his rage makes his stronger than he usually is.

“Dean… I came as soon as I can…”

“WHAT WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN HER” Dean yells and I try to hush him.

“I was held prisoner, Dean… How could you thing I wouldn’t come right away for Y/n” Castiel grunts, his voice low and for a short while, they just search each other face, like they were trying to decide what to think.

           Dean lets go of the angel and eyes him from head to toe.

“What happened ?”

“I fell in a trap” Cas sighs. “I handled it.”

“Cas… Please” my brother’s voice suddenly breaks, a big single tear falling heavily on his hospital clothing ; because, well, we all know what’s under his anger…

           I stay where I am, watching my angel friend walk to her bed, a poignant guilt strangling me. Why an angel in her room, and not next door…

           Dean doesn’t seem to care about that right now, his insisting eyes going from the angel to our Y/n with a mix of hope, impatience and terror.

           When Castiel frowns, Dean grabs is arm strongly.

“What is it, Cas ?” he grunts.

With two fingers on her forehead, the angel frowns, even grunting in effort.

“What…” I take a step forward, something seems wrong.

“She’s… She’s fighting me” Cas states, his light finally bathing her.

“Fighting you ?” Dean gasps.

           The angel takes his hand away and nods with a strange light in his eyes, something sad, or sorry. Something worrying.

“I healed her body but… her soul is…”

“Her soul ?” Dean asks, a whine of despair hidden in his voice.

“She didn’t want to heal… The damages are unexpected. Her heart is broken” Castiel states.

“Her heart ?” I start but she moves and Dean bends on her.

“Y/n ? Sunshine ? Do you hear me ?” his eagerness hurts me deep, what if we can’t fix her ?

           She slowly opens her eyelids and he smiles to her but she looks away, her eyes empty.

“Y/n ?” he tries. “Are you in pain ? Talk to me.”

“No” she states weakly, her voice hoarse.

He bends to put a kiss on her head but she doesn’t react. No corner smile with her hand on his cheek as she always does.

She just doesn’t move at all.

 Reader’s Pov, Saturday evening

             They finally left.

           I let the burning tears run on my face. I’m not really crying just… letting them fall at last, overflowing.

           The hole in my chest feels like it is devouring everything around me, like a black hole ; and I’m not even trying to hold myself together anymore. Dean is safe... I should just have died.

           The room ceiling is the only distraction I need, the nurse offered TV, Sam offered his laptop… Why would I want to see what happens in the world ? Don’t they know ? It doesn’t matter anymore, the Sun can stop rising in the morning, what’s the point ?

           Someone, something, life, fate, whatever… ripped my heart out and I realize now that the novels were lying. Having their heart shattered, it’s not romantic or beautifully dark, this kind of shit… It’s not about crying with ice cream on the lap, it’s not about listening to sad music…

           That hole, it’s just a cold, cruel, lonely emptiness.

           It’s despair.

           I dare sliding my fingers on my flat belly, and the hole grows the size of the Universe. My little Bean is gone, my tiny miracle vanished and the man I love is not even here to hold my hand.

           The man I love… He never existed. Dean is alive, the strong man I fell in love with, the hero I worship from afar, he will live.

           But my Dean… The man who loved me, the one who built me, moments after moments, my partner, my best friend, my lover… He’s dead. I will never see him again, touch him again, hear him calling me baby.

           And I didn’t even say goodbye.

           I flatten my hand on my stomach, wallowing in the absence, because it’s a way to channel the pain. He never put a baby in me. His cum never invade me, driven by love, to force the ultimate marking on my devoted body. Our genes never danced together to create a whole new generation of Winchester.

           I will never know if baby Bean will have his eyes after all.

           It all never happened…

           Yet for me it did, I lived a year in that perfect dream. A year with the man I love. A year in my Dean's arms... And I lost it.

           My man, and my baby died. And I just don’t want to go on without them.

           If at least it was… I don’t know, a car accident, if I had died with them, if anything had a fucking sense.

           But fate is laughing at her own cruelty because for me they died, but in this life they just never existed. No one will bring me cake, no funeral, no widow shadow to hide into. And as if it wasn't enough... I have to live with Dean.

           Turning on my side, I let the tears fall, torturing myself with the memory of my man holding me from behind to stroke my belly, with the memory of his soft laugh in my ear, of his lips grazing my neck.

           I am so cold.

 Sam's Pov, monday morning

             My eyes stare at the ground while Dean's voice goes louder.

           He just can't hear what the doctor is saying, she won't be transferred in psychiatry ; and what does that even mean that her hormones are too high ? She will just heal, he keeps repeating. She just needs to come back home.

           The truth is I'm not so sure of that. This life can really be too much, and Y/n, she doesn't eat, she barely talks. She seems broken beyond what just time can heal... I remember what it is like to be locked inside myself, and I know that Dean, with all his willingness, won't be enough this time.

"She's coming home !" he states, and the doctor warns him.

"Please, if she doesn't eat, or if she shows suicidal risks, bring her back."

           My eyes stare at the floor, still, when Dean is talking to her, telling her he won't let her alone here, and that he will bring her home, with her stuffs, in her room.

           But some tears fall on her face at those last words and I can't help wondering what happened to her, what did the Djinn showed her during those three days, that could break her like this.

           My eyes are still in the ground when my brother help her in her bed, after he convinced her to take a shower, hoping it would help. She did, and her eyes are still lost in a void that seem to eat her soul.

           When Dean begged, she ate something, she bit in the sandwich he had made with all his affection, and she drank the fresh orange juice he made for her...

           But the void is still devouring her, and her eyes are empty and tired, this kind of tired that is not lack of sleep.

           Before Dean gets out the room, he smiles at her, a tender and kind smile, and he kisses her temple, swearing he will never leave her. But she doesn't answer.

           I finally look at him, when he closes the door and burst in tears like I have never seen him. His back slides on the wall and it breaks my heart in a horrible pain.

"I-I can't..." he says. "Sammy I need her to come back... I need her... please... Please I need her."

I have to sit on the floor to hold my brother in my arms. He's so broken, we all are.

"She doesn't even look at me Sam... I need her..."

 Reader's Pov, Wednesday

             Will I forget ?

           I heard people dealing with mourning struggled to keep memories of the smell, because that's the one thing you can't capture forever. Photos, videos… It can stay forever, yet smell always fades from clothes and sheets eventually.

But I have his smell all around me. No photos of our life together, of our trip to the beach, of that time we took drunk pics in the Dean cave... No videos of his birthday when I made him a giant pie… My phone is empty. But his smell…

           His voice I hear every day. I even have those little kisses on my cheeks or temples, but it's not from the man who loved me so much. And I can't borrow one of his shirts to cry on it, he wouldn't understand.

           How could I be so stupid ? Thinking Dean Winchester loved me back. And that much ? Like he could love me to the point of carving my name on the table next to him. Like he could trust me with his body like he did. Like he could be happy with me...

           Dean. The man that deserves the world and more. A soul so complex, a body so precious. How could a boring girl with an average face and an oversized temper could make his life complete ?

           I remember this time he had a bad nightmare, it was just after I found out I was pregnant ; he dreamed that Ben tried to kill the baby, and that he had to shoot him to protect his little Bean. He was sweating in my arms, telling me his dream... And while I was stroking his hair, he opened up about all that, about being a bit disappointed, when Lisa told him he was not Ben's father, about how he struggled with this feeling…

And about what it was, discovering that "normal life" didn't make him happy, after thinking hunting was everything wrong in his life for so long...

           This never happened either. Dean never trusted me that much. And he probably didn't feel that way at all, my brain made up this conversation, right ?

           How pathetic is it ?

           I’m so lost.

           Each time I try to focus on parts of it all to not become crazy, I just feel the stab of missing Dean’s kisses so much and how empty my belly is.

             I’m so angry at everything. Why was it on me to hear Dean’s screams for help, why was it on me to wake up from my own personal Heaven ? By myself ? To basically kill “my Dean” and his son growing inside of me. Why did I have to do that myself ?

Isn’t it the most cruel thing fate could come up with ?  

           No one should ! No one should have to choose between love in their life, and the life of the person they love.

           Forcing myself out of this was the most painful thing I ever did. And yes, I hate the fucking Universe for making me do this !

Fuck it ! Fuck them ! FUCK EVERYTHING ! I scream in my head, curling up in my bed. That’s so fucking unfair ! This is the one thing I wouldn’t have ignored, the one and only fucking thing !

Dean in danger.

I would do everything for him… Even losing him.

             Sam enters the room and I stop sobbing, choking on my tears with the greatest efforts to hold back the screams in my lungs.

“Y/n…” he closes the door behind him and sits on my bed. “It’s been a few days and…”

A few days… You have no idea Sammy.

“Yeah…” I just answer, knowing more words would make the dam break.

“I know you don’t want to talk about what happened” he sighs. “Probably because of how painful it is… But” his large hand pushes a strand of my messy hair out of my face. “We can help… Please let us at least try, Y/n. Dean is…”

“What ?” I ask a little too fast.

“Dean is not… he’s not okay, Y/n… And I know I have no right to put that on you, because you probably are already fighting the best you can” he sighs and my hand grab the sheets in pain. “You’re our best friend but… Dean he… He needs you…”

“He doesn’t” I whisper, pieces of my broken heart coming out of my throat.

“Please, Y/n… Look into his eyes, listen to his voice, I know you can read him like a book.”

He gets up and sighs, his hand gently lingering in my back.

           I want to die.

           That is the truth. And the truth is ugly. Since I woke up, I have no will to be alive at all.

           I want to join my love, but it is stupid because he is not dead, he just never loved me.

           Now I didn’t let everything fall apart to save him, only to make him suffer after. I have two choices : Die from the pain, or focus on Dean.

           The real one, the one that never loved me, but who has the undeniable advantage to exist, not just in my head.

           I told my Dean… the one that called himself my man, that I could suffer a thousand Hells for him. Well here it is…

           It is now.

           The first time I command my body to get out of bed, it doesn’t respond. At all.

           Why lungs are crushed in my chest, my muscles are sore, my bones seem cold and that black hole…

           I will have to live with that black hole, but I couldn’t live with making Dean suffer in any kind of way. He already lost so much, he won’t lose me.

 Sam’s Pov, Wednesday evening

             Dean’s eyes are glued to the bottom of his glass of whiskey. He didn’t eat today, at least I didn’t see him eat anything… Drink, that, yes.

           Each time he finally moves, suddenly restless, it’s because he thinks he found a way to “fix Y/n”.

           Spells, fairies, deals, the Goddess of happiness, even a spell that makes you see clearly people’s memory… He explored everything.

           But nothing sounds good enough, so he sits back at the table and empties bottles, his eyes red and his skin pale. Thinking at how he could have lost his best friend… Or maybe more.

           I see it now, and I’m pretty sure I’m right : Dean loves her. He loves her not like I do.

           When I’m about to ask him that, to finally dare suggesting he is in love, to take the risk he will get mad, break things or close up even more…

She enters the kitchen.

           She seems so weak standing in the door frame, so broken, her leaner legs pale, discreet light hair growing back on it, her oversized t-shirt falling lazily on her thighs, her hair messy, hiding her tired face.

           She’s adorable and I’m pretty sure my brother’s heart is beating so hard it threatens to open his chest.

“Y/n…” he says, getting up to take her arm, afraid she would fall or faint.

He helps her down the stairs and brings her to the table with a tenderness I have never seen him show.

“I’m so glad to see you” I say putting a hand on her arm cautiously. “Do you want to drink or eat something ?”

She looks around, her eyes staring at the bottle of whiskey, then at Dean.

“I… I could use a soda” she murmurs.

           I get up and turn around to look at them again, Dean pushes some strands of hair from her face and she looks at him, her eyes full of tears.

           When I bring the coke, she’s wiping away some tears.

“Thank you, Sammy” she says, clearing her voice.

Then she takes a sip and a deep breath. My brother has no idea what to say so he stares at her, visibly resisting the urge to take her in his arms.

“I… I’m sorry I w-worry you…” she finally speaks, needing all her strength to talk.

“Sunshine, just tell us how we can help you” Dean states, taking her hand in his.

“Sunshine…” she repeats in a whisper with a big tear falling on the table.

“I-I’m sorry” he frowns. “You used to like this nickname…”

“I do” her voice breaks. “Guys… I… I will need some time… I…” she closes her eyes like she was in great pain. “I lost something… V-very precious to me…” she wipes her face and lift her eyes to my brother. “But I don’t want you to suffer because of me” she whispers, bending to put a loving kiss on Dean’s hand.

He has to use the back of his other hand to stop the tears falling on his face at her gesture.

“Do you want to tell us what you lost, Y/n ?” I ask calmly. “Maybe we can help.”

 Reader’s Pov, that same Wednesday evening

             “Do you want to tell us what you lost, Y/n ?” I ask calmly. “Maybe we can help.”

I smile through the tears at the irony of his words. And in a reflex, I put my hand on my flat stomach, like I used to do to protect my own little treasure.

“You were…” Sam’s eyes widen. “That’s why your hormonal rates were so weird…”

I look at him and feel Dean’s hand leave mine.

“Sunshine…” I can feel him searching my face even though I’m looking down. “You w-were pregnant ?”  

I nod, the black hole in my guts devouring all the light in my vision, as I remember his voice saying “Baby, you’re pregnant ?” in the deep pitch dark of my memory.

“Why didn’t you tell me ?” his voice is shaking. “H-how did you get… I didn’t see you with…”

“Wh-what ?” I shake my head. “No Dean, I…”

He thinks I was really pregnant, and that maybe I lost it because of the blood loss and all. I look up to meet is eyes, somehow finding courage in the green of his iris. Because it’s the eyes of the man I love, it is his eyes, and they make me stronger.

“No Dean… In the…” How am I supposed to call it ? “Dream…”

“Oh…” he says, his eyebrows joining in a pained frown.

“S-so your big dream is to have…”

“No” I cut him. “It’s way more complicated than that. I- For me… It lasted a year. And…”

“A year ?” Sam gasps. “It usually doesn’t… I’m so sorry Y/n…”

           My eyes search Dean’s, they’re moving like he was reading something on the table. Then a silence falls on us but I still feel their warm affection.

           Just talking to them gives me the little strength I needed to at least try. I missed Dean, just Dean, not only my Dean or anything, but… this amazing man.

If I can’t fake it, if my heart keeps bleeding all over the place and my black hole threatens to touch them, I will just leave. I will lie, saying I found what could help so they worry less, and I will disappear. Cats hide to die, right ?

 Reader’s Pov, Friday morning

             I tried.

I tried with all is left of my heart.

           I got up at least twice a day, showered and ate, tried to talk a little when they checked on me. But the loss is becoming even more real as I’m starting to severely miss Dean’s touches.

           The more I find my friend again, the more my boyfriend seems far.

And I miss his kisses, his hands on my back, his nails gently scratching my skin. I miss the way he always randomly grazed my nipples through my clothes, knowing how sensible I am. I miss being able to scratch his scruff, to hold his hand, to kiss his freckles.

I miss his weight on me.

And I miss him inside of me…

Sometimes my hand just goes to him, and I have to stop myself from stroking his cheek or slip my fingers under his shirt.

Dean is just not mine.

 As he sits on my bed, I think of those times he crawled between my legs with a smile on his lips.

But he just sits there, with this caution like I could break and the bed dips a little.

Don’t bother I’m already broken.

           He looks at me and smiles, a sad expression on his beautiful face behind it. Giving me the sandwich he made, he takes place on the bed, like he does from time to time since I showed up in the kitchen, like he did very often before all of that.

           For him it was just a little more than a week ago, the last time he brought food in my bedroom to talk or watch a movie… For me it was more than a year ago. Because I though I was with him, but it was just our bedroom. It was different.

“They say it will be very sunny tomorrow” he states, his usually plumb lips forming a line.

I don’t care about sunny. The only source of light is you.

“Okay” I say, struggling to take a bite of the way to big sandwich.

“Maybe… maybe I could take you for a little ride, see the light a little. You love summer so much” he tries, his low voice falling on me like warm water in the shower.

He made me pregnant in his precious car, our shared cum kink finally winning when once more he came deep inside of me. It was a sunny day too, and his sweat was making his skin slippery as he nuzzled in my neck, groaning as he always did…

“No…” I grunt. “I’m sorry Dean, I’m not…”

And suddenly his fingers graze mine on my stomach, that’s when I notice I was stroking it again.

Stupid.

“Y/n…” he’s weighting his words now. “I have been thinking…” He rubs his neck, his eyes still on his hand touching my fingers. “Don’t… don’t get… offended but… If…” he takes a deep breath and my heart starts racing. “If you want a baby” He closes his eyes. “If it is what you need to be happy again… I… I could give one to you.”

My eyes widen and my breathing stops.

“Wh- what ?”

“I just… I’m sorry, I just thought… Listen. Maybe you want nothing to do with me… But I just… I would totally do that for you, whether you want me to be there after or forget it’s mine forever.”

“Dean…” I take his shaking hand in mine. “It’s not about the baby… I mean… Of course, I had time to… get used to that idea of having a baby… and it’s… yeah, so, so painful. But…” My voice breaks when I realize completely what he is offering me. “It is about the love…”

“Love ?” he almost whispers, holding my hand back in a loving gesture that makes me forget he’s not mine for a split second.

“Yeah…” I state, biting my lips.

“Was your dream like… Apple pie and baby showers ?” he murmurs and it seems like the room becomes smaller, but in the good way, I suddenly feel like in a pillow fort with the man I love.

“No” I chuckle. “You know me… I’m not really the baby shower type, baby… Deanie” I correct myself and the black hole seems to be burning now. But, as he doesn’t react, I continue. “It was just… all the same… the love on top.”

I fake a smile, hoping he won’t read my eyes.

“Oh” he looks up. “Hunting and everything ?”

“Yes, Dean. As you said… I was… I was pretty happy already you know... Sam and you, this adventure life… The only…” a single tear rolls on my cheek and his warm hand wipes it slowly. “I just had this radiant love. And I…” more tears come crushing on his fingers. “I miss him ! I… It’s like I had lost my husband or… All those memories, Dean.”

His eyes are wet, and he bites his lip.

“All those memories they seem so… so real and I have” I’m panting now, the pain crushing my lungs in the same time as talking to him feels like I was finally not so lonely. “I have this huge black h-hole in my heart… And” I start to be shaken by sobs as he takes me in his arms firmly, trying to help me hold together. “I crave his kisses… I-I crave everything s-so much… Everything hurts Dean…”

“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through” he murmurs giving me the perfect comfort of his body around me, his face against the side of my head. “I’m here, Sunshine… I’m right here.”

           That’s when I feel his lips grazing my cheek. I look up and he lets them slowly drift to mine, in a shy move.

           My heart misses a broken beat. He licks his perfect mouth and keeps his face so close to mine, the pillow fort is warm now…

“I can give you kisses, and love and even a baby if you want” he says against my lips and I swallow hard. “I know I can’t give you what you lost. But l-let me try to fix what I can fix… Let me fill a little part of this hole in your heart” his lips claim mine like he did this his whole life, so naturally, like kissing me wasn’t an effort at all… Like he wanted this.

And I feel whole for a second.

“Yes” is all I can answer.

           His kisses are perfect, and my body react to them so strongly. Goosebumps and heart racing and heat…

           His knee bumps mine when he turns on the bed to face me, his hands firmly grabbing my face, fingers in my hair, and his tongue reaches mine.

           It’s like I could breathe for the first time after holding my breath for days… And it’s both so new and so natural.

           He pushes me on my back, his lips still devouring me, one of his hand only letting go of me to catch us by leaning on the mattress before we crash too fast.

“Dean…” I murmur when his lips let go of mine to kiss my neck.

His smell, his weight, his kisses…

           And suddenly, I am ripped out of the dream again : Is he doing this without wanting it at all ?

“Dean… You” I sigh. “You don’t have to do this.”

But he doesn’t stop, and his hungry palm slip under my shirt to rest on my ribs, not daring to touch my breasts just now.

“Dean…” I insist, holding back my moans.

“Mh… let me enjoy this Sunshine.”

My head falls back on the pillow when his tongue tastes the skin of my collarbones.

           He never, not once, called me Sunshine when he was making love to me during this year and that feels even better because it’s Dean, it’s not a dream. He is the man I fell in love with.

           I struggle a little to put my right leg on the side of his body, spreading my thighs for him. And when I feel his crotch on the thin fabric of my panties, my body bursts in flames.

           His hands are everywhere and his mouth covers every inch of my neck. I reach his back, as I always did, to feel his muscles under my fingers, pushing his flannel and shirt up to reach his soft skin.

“You remember that day we danced in the library…” he whispers, his kisses reaching my stomach. “You were a little drunk… I found you dancing with a bottle of whiskey on that cheesy song and offered you a dance.”

I nod, a little moan escaping my lips.

“This was a real memory, Sunshine.”

As I close my eyes, one last tear tickles my temple.

           His eager hands lift my oversized t-shirt and put it above my head before throwing it across the room. I’m shaking although I feel unbelievably comfortable with him.

“God you are… Y/n…” he buries his face in my breasts, feasting on it, his strong arms holding me by the ribs, squeezing it strongly.

“I need you inside of me” I admit in a whine, like I did before, even if he never heard it yet.

He groans and sits. With his eyes on me, he grabs the thin fabric of my panties and tries to rip it, failing three times before the fabric gives way, earning a light chuckle from me.

“Skin baby, please” I plea, when he falls back on me like the tall beast he is.

He moans muttering “baby”, like this nickname was turning him on, and takes of his flannel and his shirt with one hand.

           In the dream… He did it with two hands, always, and I love that he’s so similar, but yet, that I can’t mistake him with a chimera anymore.

           He opens his belt and I arch my back, touching my breasts just to see if he like that as much as he did.

“Oh fuck… Sunshine, you…”

I smile and stretch my arms to reach his lower back, caressing him while he pushes the zipper down.

           He clumsily takes off his pants along with his underwear and I gasp at the sigh of his cock. Dean’s velvety length, not just what I imagined…

           My hand wraps around it and my folds start dripping. He’s a little wider than my fantasy was… He’s… different. His hand joins mine, encouraging me to grab him firmly.

“You remember when you pushed me in the fountain in Las Vegas, Sunshine ?” he moans, licking his lips.

I nod as his fingers graze my impatient entrance.

“Oh Dean !” sweat breaks through my skin.

“That is…” he moans again, offering a sound perfect enough to shrink the black hole. “That is a real memory too. We have so much great memories…”

           His fingers gently press against my entrance, and his thumb strokes my clit like it was in love with it. My walls let him enter and my hips roll desperately.

“And now…” he groans, bending to suck a mark in my neck. “This will be a real memory too. You like that ?”

I cry out when he crooks his fingers inside of me.

“I can give you all the love you can dream of, Sunshine” he whispers in my ear, and before I can register what he’s saying, he takes of his hand, and bring it to his lips to taste me.

“Dean, please.”

           He smiles against my lips and wiggles slowly between my thighs.

           When he kisses me, the black hole implodes.

           Just like that.

           Because no kiss was ever so intense, even from the man that loved me back. No kiss was so loving, ever. And when I thought I had the best… Dean shows me once again that he’s better than any dream.

           He guides his cock to my entrance and pushes in, kissing me all the way. Even panting, even grunting and shaken by spasms of his hips, he keeps his lips on me.

“I love you…” I mutter under my breath, making him look at me.

“That’s it, Sunshine, take all the love you need” he whispers, putting his face in my neck. “I’ll give you all you need.”

           He bottoms out and I could come like this, just feeling him filling me so perfectly, but I hold back, my thighs burning cold in the best way.

           His thrusts are shallow at first, but his hunger grows inside of him, and so, it grows inside of me. He’s slow, but his trusts are so deep I can feel him in my belly. And I have no idea where I stops and where I begin, but that has no importance at all.

“I love you” I repeat, knowing now that he’s okay with me saying this like that, knowing he doesn’t think I mean it. “I love you.”

           Hands on his butt, I encourage him deeper, like it was even possible, and he bites my shoulder in a growl.

“Let me love you, Y/n…”

My heart races, sending my pleasure-saturated blood everywhere in my body at light speed.

           I come so hard my nails dig too hard in his ass cheeks.

“JESUS FUCK !” he cries out when my walls contract so hard around him I fear it might be painful.

           And his hand suddenly wraps around my neck, not really squeezing, but holding me firmly while his hips piston at a breaking pace a few times before he fills me in a low growl, his thighs convulsing a little.

           The world is spinning and the high is the strongest I felt. My heart just can’t hold back so much love, so, as a drunk teen spitting the name of their crush… I open my mouth.

“I love you, Dean.”

He sighs and I still can’t see his face, hidden against my skin.

“No, for real… It was you” I whisper, my palm flat on his back, his cock still softening inside of me.

           The second he takes to answer is the longest second in the universe. A drop falls on my collarbone and I immediately recognize a tear.

“I’m sorry Dean… Just… Forget that.”

“It was always you too, Sunshine” he finally murmurs. “I love you.”

 Sam’s Pov, Monday evening

             Dean holds her from behind, his hips swaying a little on the Led Zeppelin song she chose to cook.

           She’s laughing at his clumsy movements, trying to hit him with a spoon when he puts his finger in the dough she’s making.

           And I remember when he started to call her Sunshine…

It was a sad day of winter, it was raining for days but she woke up excited by this idea she had, to buy a pop-corn machine for the bunker, as we could only watch movie lately.

She was poking him with her finger, to annoy him until he agrees to let her bring it with the Impala.

When he finally did, pretending to be grumpy, she left running, to get clothed, and he turned to me.

“Who needs sunny days when you live with a freaking ray of Sunshine like that” he said.

Now I think of it, he was telling me he was in love with her.

______________________

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